Character list (click to close)

Thinker: An overambitious storyteller, trying to lead the other personalities with an utter lack of concern for reality.

Worker: The reliable one. He single-mindedly follows schedules, and revels in busywork.

Gamer: Cynical and bored by life, he tries to get a sense of achievement and purpose from virtual experiences.

Programmer: Always up to a good challenge.

Person: A very awkward social creature. All other characters need to defer to him when a social opportunity presents itself.

Explorer: An overgrown child, with a passion for many things: design, film, music, and random nonsense.

Addict: Absolutely obsessed, though the subject of obsession changes from day to day.

Musician: A musician.

I Am Not...

The complete life and identity of Mory Buxner, ported to HTML.


I am not...
I see you're attempting to read my blog with Internet Explorer, a browser which is -to put it as delicately as I can- a worthless piece of crap. There are standards of web programming, standards which this blog follows, and every browser but Internet Explorer supports these standards. Microsoft deliberately does not support the standards, because they're the market leader and can therefore realistically hope to see web sites which are entirely dependent on Internet Explorer's unique quirks. But I am not willing to write each blog post twice: once for the working browsers and once for the chaos that is Microsoft Internet Explorer. So I am telling you right now: you will not be able to read this page properly from the program you're using. Even if you think it's displaying right, you're actually not seeing much of what I've written since May 2010. Please switch to one of these sensible options for exploring the web, all of which are perfectly capable of handling the experimental and interactive things I do here:
Mozilla FirefoxGoogle ChromeApple SafariOpera

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Moebius

Part 1: For Salvation Comes Through Blog

I wake up when Yardena wakes up. I make her coffee, sit by her as she browses her Facebook feed. I enjoy her company, even if she's not so conscious yet. I pick up my phone and go to a few websites: Ain't It Cool News, Bleeding Cool, Comic Book Resources, The AV Club's TV section. None of them contain anything that adds to my life. They're not expected to. Yardena tells me about something someone's shared on Facebook. I tell Yardena about something I see on The AV Club. We kiss. She leaves. She comes home. We watch TV and play videogames and eat ice cream and read comics and have a good time. As we get ready for bed, Yardena expresses reservations about my not having a job or much initiative in finding one. We talk for a while. I give her a foot rub. We go to sleep.

The less I think about it, the happier I am. I am loved. I am having fun. I am in a prison of my own making. It's all good.

It's only when I try to push back that I start to see the problem. Having conferences between my many personalities is still as much fun as it ever was, especially now that it's understood that all threats made there are toothless and all plans are mere suggestions. But sometimes I get the silly notion that I can actually control my behavior, that that's what the whole exercise was about. And that's when the accommodations start feeling less cosy.

I could blame it on the internet, which seems to suck in every unoccupied moment, but that would be neither useful nor particularly accurate. If I were able to detach myself from everything around me with a web browser (to wit: my computer, Yardena's computer, the netbook, the tablet, two game consoles, and most problematically, my phone), I would just waste my time in some other way. The issue is not the internet. The issue is that I never decided to spend eight hours of every day doing nothing that I can remember immediately afterward. And yet, somehow, I'm here.

If I were being passive because of stress, or because there were too many demands on my time, then I could pooh-pooh the situation and comfortably go back to doing whatever it is that I've been doing. But this is the bottom of the hill. I don't have a job yet. I don't have kids yet. I don't have a house, or a car. Those will all come, and they will undoubtedly cost me dearly in money, in time, and in energy. They will come, because I love Yardena, and Yardena wants all of these things. And when they come, I will have stress and demands and responsibilities to deal with such as I have never known in my very sheltered life.

I wake up with Yardena. She leaves, she comes back, we have a good time, we go to sleep. And all the while, the deadline ticks ever closer.

One morning, I decided that it was time to make a change. (Most of my efforts to overcome my basic nature take the form of decisions rather than actions.) And I decided that the means to this change could be learned from the blog. There's a heck of a lot of discussions, analyses and pronouncements here. Time for that wisdom to pay off, and fix my self-control problem once and for all. But where to start? Well, as the seventh 74 said:
The first day is frustrating, yes, but the seventh is satisfying.
And as the Thinker once commentated on that post:
When you put in an effort, it ends up more beautiful than you intended due to God's presence.
It follows, then, that if I put in a genuine effort to find answers on the blog, God will ensure that those answers can be found there. With this in mind, I clicked on the "random jump" button at the top right:
 

I saw just two random posts, and already I saw the full picture. This blog was a graveyard of ideas and ambitions. I am not capable of getting things done without external pressure. All attempts to externalize my internal pressure fell apart, as I realized (despite all my efforts to obscure the fact) that those attempts were, like the plans they served, of interest only to me.

So I'm here. Right where I started, eight years and seven months ago. And in retrospect, there's nothing surprising or complicated about it. I've explicitly given up on everything, taken away all the symbols of my growth as a blogger, stopped pretending this is going anywhere... and who cared? There was one anonymous commenter, bless their soul, who said that the story "went from interesting to boring fast.". That was the full extent of external concern that came my way. Because even among those who genuinely care about me, who have followed my journey thus far and who have been waiting this long year for substantial new posts, not one person seriously expects me to accomplish my crazy ambitions. Giving up on them is a sign of maturity, or something. That's a reasonable position to take. What isn't reasonable is thinking that in that freedom from external pressure, I could ever make something of myself.

I saw two random posts, and despaired.

But then I remembered what Yardena's brother Golan had said, the last time we'd all been at their parents' house for Shabbat. He was trying to get his mother to therapy, and was ranting in general:
"I don't understand why people try to deal with all their psychological problems on their own, instead of getting professional help. I mean, maybe they can be fine on their own, but it's like having one hand tied behind your back. You can do it, but it's stupid."
I thought about what he'd said, and what I'd achieved in trying to fix myself, and I decided that it was time to make a change.

1 Comment:

Blogger P.A.W. said:

I cared. I naively imagined that you weren’t blogging because you were busy accomplishing some of your crazy ambitions. If giving up is a sign of maturity, who wants to be mature? You have accomplished some of your ambitions – notably Gamer Mom, although that was before the system stopped working (the end of part 3?). Admittedly, some of the posts after that were a cause for concern, but I believed that you would overcome those problems and thought that they were possibly exaggerated to make the blog more dramatic. And then came the GDC poster session, which dispelled any worries I had that you had given up on your gamistic ambitions. (Even though I am sceptical about how interesting a full game using your dynamic interfaces would be (outside of character interaction, for which I think they work brilliantly) (but that is separate topic)) I imagined that the success of Gamer Mom might have helped you to externalize pressure somewhat (by you thinking that the people who were interested in that would be interested in other things you did).
I, also, sometimes have problems getting myself to do things; including writing, as evidenced by the lateness of this comment.

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Part 2: Formerly Creative, Available Now

I wake up when Yardena wakes up. I make her coffee, sit by her as she browses her Facebook feed. I pick up my phone and go to a few websites: Blastr, Eurogamer, Comic Book Resources, The AV Club. I play a quick round of Sudoku. I ask Yardena to tell me about something someone's shared on Facebook. We kiss. She leaves. I keep playing Sudoku.

An hour before she finishes work, I start to move. I scramble to clean a few dishes, throw on some clothes, then run out to catch a bus. I get to Yardena's work five minutes late. We hug. We walk home. I sympathize as she vents about her job. I hope she won't ask me about my day. We get home. We watch TV and play videogames and read comics and have a good time. As we get ready for bed, Yardena asks to watch an episode of Daria. We watch an episode of Daria. I give her a back rub. We go to sleep.

I dream I'm at a music festival, improvising on a keyboard along with a cellist and a drummer. They don't quite get what I'm doing, but that's okay. I'm having fun, and that's coming through. I leave to enjoy the rest of the festival. A manager calls me into his office. I sit down. That improvisation might have inspired him to give me a regular job. I need one. "What do you think that was?", he asks. "I think I was coming up with a fusion of classical music and rock, on the spur of the moment.", I answer. He consults his notes. "It was the most obvious thing you could possibly have played. You went from F sharp to B to C sharp. And then when you were done with that, you just did the same chord progression again!" So he begins, and continues with a barrage of musical jargon that I don't understand. "And then you'd left yourself nowhere to go, so..."

I wander through the festival. Yardena is here somewhere; we decided it was better to split up, do our own thing, and meet up at the end of the day. I sit down to a concert, and am called away by a phone call. It's someone from the Game Developers Conference. One of the prouder moments of my life. I had torn myself away from my friends there to perform a scheduled piano improvisation. Maybe they're inviting me back? No, they've called to yell at me about my performance there. Apparently it was something like watching a baby try to play Bach. I completely embarrassed myself, and they're only telling me now.

It's getting dark, and Yardena finds me. I try to tell her that I'm depressed. She interrupts me as soon I start talking, to tell me how tired she is. She doesn't want to drive home. She wants to get a ride with my sister, Dena. We leave the school, get in Yardena's shiny blue car and she drives the wide suburb roads to Dena's house. It's a big American house, with a lawn. Yardena gets out of the car and goes in to ask Dena to drive us. I wait for her. I sit around. I look at the silent neighborhood. I stare into space. I get out of the car and enter Dena's house, to find out what's going on. A bunch of Dena's friends are in pyjamas, walking past me to leave. Others are still standing around. Yardena is standing by Dena, who is in her own pyjamas looking annoyed. I decide that Yardena has it under control, and I go back out to the car.

The car. Where's the car? I see a car driving away quickly, and I try to run after it, but I can barely get myself to walk. As the car disappears from view, I realize that it looks nothing like Yardena's car. I return to the empty space where I'm pretty sure a car once was. Yardena hasn't come out yet, thank God. But a group of noisy people are walking toward me on the road, my father among them. He's holding car keys -- no, it's just a fuzzy-dice keychain that he's attached his smartphone to. He's just waving around his smartphone, trying to show something off on it.

"Where are the keys?", he asks. "THEY'RE IN THE FUCKING CAR
an e-mail from my mother, giving me a heads-up that someone she knew would be contacting me about something. And sure enough, they did. A married couple who'd been to my parents for a Shabbat meal were told about me, and so they saw my work, and were interested. They liked my music, they were intrigued by my other creative endeavors, they were sympathetic to my diagnosed social affliction and they wanted to talk to me. I wrote back that I was always free, and so Tuvia the music producer called me up and talked with me for a good two hours.



We batted ideas back and forth. It never went anywhere.

3 Comments:

Blogger Kyler Kelly said:

That was a roller coaster ride post.

 Mory said:

Thank you. :)

Anonymous Anonymous said:

so dizzy. but fun =)
new post now??? :-p

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Part 3: Terms and Conditions

I wake up when Yardena wakes up. I waste a few hours. I go to work. I come home to a tired wife, an eager cat and a neglected home. We go to sleep.



Our rabbi walked us through the text, word by word. Backwards concepts rooted in sexist norms, written in the obsolete language of Aramaic. The k'tubah is a legal contract which must be signed by the male spouse-to-be at every Jewish wedding.
...that Mordechai, son of Tzvi Eliezer... said to this virgin Yardena... "Be my wife according to the practice of Moses and Israel, and I will cherish, honor, support and maintain you in accordance with the custom of Jewish husbands who cherish, honor, support and maintain their wives faithfully. And I here present you with the marriage gift of virgins, two hundred silver zuzim, which belongs to you, according the the law of Moses and Israel; and I will also give you your food, clothing and necessities...
I was getting uneasier by the second. This was not a description of the relationship we had, nor the relationship that we expected to have. It did not reflect my attitude toward gender politics, which is that anything with a whiff of gender imbalance makes me uneasy, and it did not reflect Yardena's attitude toward religion, which is that it is invasive and demeaning and should be kept out of people's personal business.

But we could put aside our many and morally-repulsed issues with the text, for the sake of getting society at large to acknowledge and accept the relationship which we already had. I could even put aside the crippling fee of 120,000 shekels that the rabbi added on to the traditional 200 zuzim (whatever that is), promised in the present but paid in the case of a divorce or death (The rabbi advised me, ridiculously, to get life insurance as soon as possible, and sell whatever I needed to sell to afford it.), because I intended this to be an arrangement for life and Yardena would never pretend I had obligations past that. But what I could not put aside was the word "support", and the elaboration "food, clothing and necessities". While I had been working on the GDC presentation, Yardena had been supporting me. And I hoped to get a job shortly after coming back, but even if I succeeded in finding one, I had no confidence that it would be enough to pay my half of the rent for our small apartment, let alone food, clothing and necessities for both of us. She was the one with the money, and in all likelihood she would be supporting me for years. I couldn't sign something that claimed it was (or needed to be) the other way around.

The rabbi assured me that no one really looks at that as a legally binding requirement, and that plenty of yeshiva students get married with no intention of ever getting a job at all. I pointed out the clause at the end that explicitly says: "It is not to be regarded as a mere forfeiture without consideration or as a mere formula of a document.". I would be signing a document that not only asserts my agreement to things that I can't agree to, but which has me saying that I know it's a serious document, and that I'm signing it intending every word of it!

I don't remember the exact mind-game that I played on myself to get myself to agree (without reversing all my beliefs on everything) that it wasn't such a bad thing to sign. The mind is a stretchy thing, though, and it needed to be signed. We were deep into planning the wedding, we wanted to not feel like we were doing something wrong every time we were intimate, and all in all there was way too much pressure for me to fail to convince myself. So I did, and we have a lovely, decorated document with my signature on it which states in an obsolete language that I am to be an ancient archetype of a husband. (Hebrew word for "husband": "ba'al", which also means "owner".)



We got in bed around 1:30 AM. I had been in a bad mood all day, and that put Yardena in a bad mood. She was tired. So was I, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Too many negative emotions: dissatisfaction and shame at having done nothing all day, dread for the day to come, loneliness, hopelessness...

I should not have told Yardena of this. She wanted to sleep, or to be rubbed and then to sleep. I was not in the mood for the latter, but I should have allowed her the former. Instead, I got close to her and told her that I felt completely worthless, that I felt I had no control over my own actions, that I was scared.

Talk like that devalues me in Yardena's eyes, not because she doesn't have faith in me but because she doesn't have faith in herself to see me clearly, which might amount to the same thing at 1:30 AM. She asked me if my life was worse off since marrying her.

Life before (click to view)

I told Yardena that if it weren't for her, I'd probably be in a mental institution by now. I told her that I would have run out of money and moved back to my parents and ended up completely insane. I told her that I was useless when left to my own devices, that everything I had been doing on my blog was because I was supremely messed up and couldn't get anything done ever. I told her that even those experiments hadn't really been working, and were in danger of falling apart every day and ate up all my time and energy just to keep me from being a lifeless lump, and that for the past year I hadn't been able to write to the blog and couldn't keep myself going for even a few days at a time.

She turned her back on me and started crying. She didn't want me to touch her. I sat and watched her for a while, pondering what I'd said. And then I got up and left the room. I sat curled up into a ball in a living room chair, and cried for a while. It's all I wanted to do. I considered Sudoku, Super Hexagon, web-browsing, but none of it would be acceptable at a time that Yardena was against me. All I wanted was for her to come and hug me and tell me that it didn't matter how messed up I was, she would still love me. But I was also angry at her and wanted to keep my distance, because what I'd said, on reflection, was that I needed her, and she'd rejected that. And I was angry at myself, because it was 2:00 in the morning and I was expecting some sort of rational detachment from someone who clearly was too tired to handle what I was dumping on her in that moment. I wanted her to come and see me crying and feel sorry for what she'd done to me. I felt stupid for not moving and for thinking of manipulating her into pitying me. I was too sad to want to move. I wanted to go back and have a discussion. I wanted her to come out of the bedroom already.

I went to my computer, turned on the MIDI keyboard, opened QJackCtl and QSynth, put on headphones and started letting off some steam by playing the closest thing I had to a piano. Spooks jumped up next to me and I petted her for a while. She purred.

Calmer now, I adjusted to my new situation. Yardena loved me. Or she would, anyway, if I stayed strong for her. She needed someone she could rely on, not a basket case to take care of. I needed to always tell her that everything would be okay, that I would do whatever it took to ensure that. That we'd have the house and the kids and the car and everything she wanted. That we'd both be consistently happy for the rest of our lives, as long as we were together.

My feelings were petty. My memories and plans were a trap. How I saw myself, and how I wanted to see myself, didn't matter and wouldn't change anything. All that mattered was that I loved Yardena and needed for her to love me.

I went back to the bedroom, ready to apologize. Yardena was fast asleep, poor thing. She looked adorable.



I will go to sleep early in the morning and wake up when the sunlight comes in. I will struggle to make ends meet, the same as everyone else. I will come back from work as tomorrow turns to

today

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said:
Mon, 03 Mar 2014
Till death do us part..
Part 3 of Mory's latest Moebius post discusses with some frankness thoughts on togetherness and the challenges that come with it. I feel in many ways, his post is a partner to my "why marry" blog post (which apparently is one of the posts that has been lost to my disorganization and inability to keep a blog going for more than a few days without erasing it.)
Mory has a way of saying things (both visually and verbally) on his blog that makes it hard to respond to. I feel like I would need to make a post equally complex to begin to convey a meaningful response.
Marriage is one of those things that we humans has spent so much time defining, denying others, feeling good about, feeling bad about, worshiping and breaking up. You would think after all that we (as human beings) would understand it a little better.
Being a human – a person in this world with 7,217,092,578 (as of this writing) other people in it, is a surprisingly terrifyingly alone thing. We live in cramped cities, travel together on public transportation, yet deep down pretty much everyone feels somehow alone. After a while, some people learn how to share their lives with others and the “aloneness” is drastically altered. Not always removed, but dampened down to a minimum if not entirely gone.
The answer to "why marry" in my world has always been "because if/when you do, it will be because your life is a million times better for having done so." Yes, there are stresses associated with being together, but the warmth, meaning and closeness that a life-partner can bring to your life is indescribable.
Also: One of the things he illustrated well was the conflict between the social institution of marriage and what it really means to the ones getting married (kind of what I wrote about here, in a slightly different context). I think we do Marriage a great injustice by pasting pages of labels on it.
Posted at: 16:08 | category: / | Comments
 Mory said:

I really wish I could read that old "why marry" post, not least because I bet I commented on it at the time and it's so hard to know what my position is on things without being able to go back and read something to find out. Sadly your old blog seems to be gone and not archived, so there goes that.

My position on marriage is complicated, and it bothers Yardena that that's the case. I never had the same goals or values that Yardena did, but I made a conscious decision before I started dating Yardena to be interested in my goals and values only alongside hers. I wouldn't have pursued a relationship if I'd thought it was impossible to satisfy both of us. And I still don't believe it's impossible, just extremely difficult, and this after the relatively simple life plans I had for myself were already not going so well.

In other words, some day I'll have my games out, and I'll also have a wonderful family who I spend time with, and because I truly believe that that will happen, marrying Yardena was the best move I ever made. What I'm really hoping for is a 50/50 balance between family and creativity. The trouble is that with the way Reality is currently configured, it's looking more like 90% society, with family and creativity fighting for the scraps. I'll need to reconfigure Reality somehow, I guess.

Anonymous Anonymous said:

Maybe there is something between the two - some people like Avri manage to mix creativity, work and family.

Also, who knows? You might be teaching your kids all about game development before you know it!

Anonymous Anonymous said:

Also: http://rel.webmanfamily.net/writings/adulthood

 Mory said:

Great, I'll have a little videogame sweatshop. :D

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Part 4: Off-script

The first stop was a tired whine from a year and a half earlier, which might as well have been written in the present day, but for its faint remnants of optimism. There had been a road from here to there, I'd walked it for a time, and yet somehow, I was still here. What went wrong? Apparently, that I was fundamentally not capable of change.

I clicked on the watermark again:
 
This time, I was brought to one of my earliest crazy-ambitious "redefine everything" plans. A new language, but really a new way of thinking about languages, more sensible than what developed naturally. I'd looked at the task, considered it for a while, and then given up. No one could seriously expect a grade-schooler to invent a language, and the friends who I'd told about it had quickly stopped caring. The only person to whom it mattered was me, so it was easily discarded and quickly forgotten.
 

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Life Be For


Yardena


Monday, July 08, 2013

The Facebook Song

Sarah shared a thing that's trending
Kind of dumb but I'm amused
Isn't a forgotten friend an
Awful thing to lose?

Well, not friend, I guess acquaintance
Now I see she's bought new shoes
How did people live before they
Kept up with the news?

Bob is sick and Rosa hates
A movie that I haven't seen.
Barbara likes a post that states
A singer's just turned seventeen.

Here's a photo Marvin took
I'd want to hide a shot like that
Diaper coupons, politicians lied
Oh look, a pretty cat!

I've had enough
I'll turn it off
As soon as I know

What you're reading, how to make cupcakes,
How to fix a broken fuse
I need regular updates
To keep up with all the news

Every second I am beckoned
Back for knowledge I can't use
I can feel my mind expanding
Slightly nauseous but still standing

I think I'm a zombie

Tired people
Stop your sleeping
Post so I can
Work on keeping
Up with all the news

3 Comments:

Anonymous said:

Wow. even better in the final version!

Anonymous said:

so I posted a link to it on FB. Sorry?

Anonymous said:

very gilbert and sullivanesque, it suits you. i loved it!

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Monday, January 28, 2013

Wedding invitations

At the beginning of January, I had still not done much work on my ridiculously ambitious Game Developers Conference talk. This was a problem, because the deadline is February 25th. So I said, "No big deal. I spent a whole month on one project before, with Ruddigore. I'll just do that again.". The only problem: I hadn't made the invitations yet. I couldn't wait any longer to send those out (not if I wanted people to actually come), and I couldn't devote all my time and attention to the presentation while I was also dealing with those. So I met with myselves, and we decided that before getting started on the poster session and its complementary materials, we'd first take a day or two to get the invitations done with.

The idea for the invitation was a true creative collaboration between myself and Yardena. We knew from the start that we would be using Harel's system for online invitations (with included RSVP functionality), but that's all we agreed on. My initial idea was to write something to the effect of "We invite you to witness the union of Mordechai Buckman and Yardena Rosner to form the terrifying two-headed monster Mordena Buxner!". The idea was both to play with the idea that people might consider us weirdos, and to introduce our new family name in a subtle way. Well, she hated that idea, through and through. (Apparently, she doesn't like being called part of a terrifying monster.) I had spent a whole day coming up with various sketches of logos that could adorn the top of this invitation, where I tried every possible way to smush together my own logo with an image of a dragon. (Yardena loves dragons.) When I went to Yardena's workplace to go home with her at the end of that day, I eagerly showed her the symbol I'd settled on, and she just said "No.". She didn't like it, couldn't say why, and that was that.

My idea having been shot down, I didn't know what the invitations should be like, so Yardena proposed a Zelda-themed invitation. We'd have drawings of myself as The Wind Waker's Link, and her as Zelda. I said that would only be acceptable if she were the purple Phantom from Spirit Tracks, because that was the only time the two were complete equals (rather than a hero and a rescuer). She said she really didn't want to be a monster, so I said I could be the phantom and she could be Link. We compromised on Link and Tetra, but something bothered me about the idea of a Zelda-themed invitation to a non-Zelda-themed wedding. Certainly Zelda has a lot of personal significance to the two of us, but when it's just an image on an invitation, in the absence of any other iconography, it might have been too kitschy.

To cut a long story short, Yardena eventually came up with a new idea, of a declaration of the joining of our two houses, which I quickly co-opted into something that would introduce the House of Buxner, and we both agreed that the House of Buxner would certainly have a coat of arms, with my melded symbol on it and with the Master Sword behind it. Yardena said it should look like it was on a scroll. So after writing down the wording (and deciding on some design concepts in the meantime), I found a nice parchment image on the web, started making a page with it in CSS, and showed it to Yardena, who was very disappointed. Like any web site, it was built on rectangles. And so, she felt it didn't look as much like a scroll as a matzah. (I had to agree.) I asked her to show me what she was looking for, and she found (on Google's image search) a black and white outline of what a scroll looks like. So I took that scroll, traced over it in Inkscape, turned the parchment into a tile (which it was not) in The GIMP, used the tile on the parchment, used gradients to give the impression that the scroll was 3D, and got started.

Which brings us to the beginning of the new year, and my resolution to get the invitations done quickly. I really thought I could do everything in two days. I wrote out a list of steps to follow (There were thirteen of them.), with the Programmer yelling in my ear "45 days until the deadline, 47 days until the wedding.", and I really thought it would be done in two days. This is because I had never done any proper design work before, of the sort that people pay good money for. Turns out, there's a reason they pay good money: it's a lot of work to do well. And I was determined to do it well. I used manual kerning, I edited individual letters of the fonts I was using (when they didn't suit my purposes), I made sure the whole thing looked suitably dramatic, and then I started on the crest, and the symbol of the House of Buxner, and that's where I got very stuck.

I do not draw, you see. I can, however, move around points in a vector drawing to mimic a sketch. I know how to do this because it was how I was making Angles and Circles, my unfinished abstract exploration game. Yardena had given me a sketch of how the symbol should look, and I copied it point for point. Yardena came home, looked at my work, and declared that it didn't look like a dragon so much as a generic monster. So in a few seconds, she threw together another sketch for me, which I thought looked very ugly and not like a dragon so much as a dinosaur. (This upset her.) So I started researching what dragons look like, and got quite addicted to the challenge of drawing something new that looked similar to other dragon images while still blending well with my logo. Finally I felt comfortable enough with the design that I sent it to Yardena at work, who instantly loved it. I still think it's kind of awkward-looking, but Yardena says that's part of its old-timey charm.

Then I drew in all the other SVG elements (such as the Master Sword), tracing other images whenever I could, and the ribbon that said "The House of Buxner" on it, with all its shading, and then I drew my own letter X because it seemed like the X in Buxner should look just right, being the most prominent letter in the name, and then I corrected all the colors on the page because I remembered that my ancient computer screen displays colors wrong. And then I tried to seamlessly connect this image with the rest of the page (which would all be CSS), and I wrote out the invitation, worded very carefully, and I set up the page for getting directions, which Yardena had insisted should be linked to from a pirate compass in the corner of the scroll. Then a button to RSVP, a simpler and uglier Hebrew version of the page for non-English speakers, and I was ready (though it was now January 23rd) to write in the guests and their personal messages and send the thing out.

Well, I thought I was. Then I talked to Harel, and he pointed out that the RSVP feature was missing important functionality. What if people had said they were coming, but then changed their plans? What if we invited a whole family with one invitation, and only one person from that family was coming? So relying on my Javascript expertise and my gamistic interface design experience, I quickly coded a very intuitive system for RSVP-ing on a person-by-person level, with the proper grammar to deal with cases where we didn't know what one person's name was. It was proper, object-oriented programming, very clean, with instructions for Harel on what he needed to do in the PHP and AJAX, which he would be doing for us because I don't know anything about programming for servers. Then I translated all of the interface into Hebrew, which was difficult for me. (I took out the part that thanks the guest for keeping us updated. Israelis don't need to be thanked.) I proudly showed the system to Yardena, who was impressed... until she saw the Hebrew page.

She knew it was going to be uglier than the English, but I guess I hadn't told her it was also going to be incomplete. While I chose every word and vector of the English page carefully, the Hebrew page was thrown together in a hurry; and it just gave the basic information. It looked vaguely similar to the English one, and got the general point across, but it wasn't the same invitation. Why should it be? It was going to just a handful of extended family members! Except it apparently wasn't. It wasn't four or five people, it was the vast majority of people her parents were inviting, as well as a few of Yardena's own friends. Yardena demanded that I put in some of the functionality I'd taken out - for instance, the ability to give a personal message. I first said that that would be too much work, which was bullshit but I was angry that the invtiations still weren't getting sent out. This got her angrier, so I tried to placate her by putting that functionality back in, which took all of fifteen seconds.

Then my father called. And the first thing he asked was "Have you been working on the presentation?". And I started panicking, in a panic that kept building from moment to moment and minute to minute without stopping until later that night, when I simply could not function and Yardena offered to take over and I sat curled up for an hour trying to focus on Sudoku on my DS so that I shouldn't think about and when Yardena said things I couldn't quite make out what she was saying and when I spoke I stuttered and I was shaking and cold.

By the end of that night, though, we had the full list of guests, with their personal messages.

Harel was up all night coding, and then we needed to wait for him to finish working at his job at 14:00 (This was a Friday, and Shabbat started around 16:30.), at which point I could start sending out the invitations. Except I couldn't, because the AJAX wasn't working in Internet Explorer for reasons that had nothing to do with the code and everything to do with flaws in Internet Explorer. So I waited for Harel to write workarounds for that, and then I had a half hour or so to send out all the invitations while Moshe (who was over for Shabbat, his mother being in South Africa) kept trying to talk to me. Then Shabbat came, with half of the invitations left to go, and I realized that I had accidentally sent the English invitation to some Hebrew-speakers so that was hanging over my head for all of Shabbat.

Immediately after Shabbat, I sent apologies (with the correct link) to the Hebrew speakers, and then I finished sending e-mails to everyone else on the list, scared all the while that I'd accidentally send the wrong personalized invitation to someone. I was starving, because there hadn't been food over Shabbat because our fridge was supposed to come with a Shabbat switch and it didn't and they keep delaying giving us the bloody thing, but I couldn't eat or drink until I was finished with every last invitation. It took me hours, but finally I was done. And then I remembered that our parents had requsted print versions of the invitation, for reasons which I do not understand, so I started making an English version before remembering that it actually needed to be in Hebrew rather than English, and then I was done. And then my parents showed up to give me long-sleeved shirts that my mother had bought me (because I don't have many, since I don't like to wear them), and they started pushing me to get clothes quickly but not the clothes that I want because they'll be too expensive and hard to find and besides the clothes that they want me to wear are nicer. My father insisted on giving me money to buy new glasses with, since I had broken mine a week or two earlier and didn't have money or time to get them fixed, and I reluctantly asked for rent money from them because I had 15 shekels in my bank account, my last two employers hadn't paid me yet, and the rent was due at the beginning of the month. They agreed, and then left, so I could finally eat and sit with Yardena and play Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door.

Except that there were a few addresses that I hadn't had before, and had now received. So I sent those, and I was done.

And then I was asked by Yardena's father to make an English print invitation, so I was done.

And the next day I was sent three more addresses by Yardena's father, and ten more names from my mother, and one more from Yardena, and I was told that my baby sister Dena had decided on her own to invite three of her friends. So I started arguing with my mother, and Yardena started arguing with her father, and it was around this point that Yardena started worrying that despite all their support up until now, our parents might try to throw their weight around at the wedding (because they're paying for it) and nothing would be the way we want it, and this worry turned into a panic that has kept growing and growing and has been keeping her up at nights and I can't do much because I have so much work to do and both of us are running around for the wedding things and we're barely getting to spend any time together.

And all the while, the deadline ticks ever closer.

1 Comment:

Anonymous said:

You know, reading that makes me so happy you guys are married and the stress is down to.. well daily stuff.

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Sunday, December 31, 2012

This Post Is Significant

I don't know where this post is going, and the past few posts don't give me many clues as to where it's coming from. But by the time I reach the end of this post, my life will not be in the same place it's in now. It can't be. I'm not a gamist. I'm not a storyteller. I'm not, in my opinion, even that interesting. I keep looking for opportunities to remind everyone in the cast of The Gondoliers that I was in Ruddigore, and that I'm still hoping to do Trial By Jury, because it makes me feel important. I keep obsessing over the first few minutes of my GDC speech -the part before I get to my own ideas- because it makes me feel wise. I keep looking for any opportunity to play piano backstage, because it makes me feel creative. But at the end of the day, I don't feel important, or wise, or creative.

When Yardena's here, at least I feel loved. That counts for everything. But right now she's at a wedding in Netanya, wishing she were home. I wish I were there with her, sharing her boredom instead of experiencing my own. With her gone, I'm aware of my blog's stagnation, and my lack of exercise, and my lack of purpose, and the huge stack of dishes that need to be washed. I wish she were home.

It will be a while until she gets back. Maybe another hour and a half. So I have an hour and a half of self-awareness in which to change my life. It can be done. This blog has done it before. Blog, time me.

01:30:00


01:28:31

Wow, time moves quickly. Okay. The most obvious problem is that whenever a self-meeting is called, the immediate kneejerk reaction is to switch to another session, kill the conference room, and continue with whatever I feel like doing. I'm not naming any names here because I can't - without the conference room, there are no clear characters to blame or credit for anything. It's the conference room that provides the proper contextualizing of my actions.

01:25:07

The Programmer could change the way the conference room works to make it beyond his own abilities to kill the program, using that "crloop" script he experimented with that makes sure the program keeps reopening itself until it ends correctly. Complicated, but doable. That accounts for any self-meetings dictated by cron, but there are still the ones I schedule myself, which can be closed by simply foregrounding the counting script. I can bypass that by making an alias to cover over the fg command, making those processes inaccessible to me once I start them.

01:19:49

I've already gotten rid of the fg command, but I feel that this is a temporary solution. For one thing, since the conference room itself can be killed, all this does right now is delay my rebellion to the last minute. There will still be no conference if I don't feel like having a conference. So the crloop needs to be programmed. But even then, I can find a way around it. I'm pretty resourceful when I need to be, and perfectly capable of both finding and getting comfortable with roundabout ways of doing things.

01:16:46

So even if I outsmart myself for a little while, it's only a matter of time until I lose control again. In Windows it was a bit easier, because I didn't have control over Windows like I have control over Linux. I could let Yardena change my password and not tell me what the new password is, but then I could never install new programs or update anything without her being here, which would be tremendously awkward. Not to mention that she might forget the password unless it's written down somewhere, and if it's written I'll probably find it.

01:12:36

I'm thinking about this wrong. An obstacle will be overcome. But an unwillingness will halt me. I need to not want to break character, and so I need to recontextualize my insolence. Closing the conference room is not lazy. It is evil. To prevent my other personalities an opportunity to make themselves heard is to sin against those aspects of myself. It is akin to slavery. Fictional characters have rights, and by pretending to be a single, unified person, I trample on those rights.

01:05:15

The most important tenet of my philosophy must be: "Love myself like my neighbor". Just as I would not silence or subjugate another person, I must never silence or subjugate myself. To limit myself to one perspective is a sin, and needs to be dealt with harshly. Not through technical obstacles. Those are mere puzzles. Sin must be brought out into the open for all to see, so that it can be purged. Evil must not and will not be tolerated, and evil thrives in the dark and the quiet.

00:59:12

The appearance can be worked out later; the basic format is clear enough. The list of sins will take the place of the old Performance Reviews. Whether the Performance Reviews should continue is a matter best left for a Dialogue; personally, I'm not clear on why we ever stopped. But I have

00:56:34

fifty-six minutes in which to crudely implement the idea, because when Yardena gets home I will want nothing in the universe except to hold her. Equally important: she will want to be with me immediately, and would justifiably be hurt if I did not reciprocate.

She has texted me that she may be home in as little as 20 minutes. Better update the timer.

00:19:56


If I close a locked conference prematurely, that goes on the sin list. If I act counter to my plans for a day, that goes on the sin list. Can there be any forgiveness for a sin?

00:16:44


Well, I don't know. I don't want to make sinning and shame a matter of habit. I also don't want a mountain of five hundred sins, where it seems like one more won't make a difference. These are important questions which need to be addressed before I can start. If the characters are responsible for forgiveness, it makes forgiveness a matter of strategy and politics. I don't know what the outcome of that would be, and I'm scared to find out.

00:12:33


On the other hand, if I let the readers of the blog absolve me, they may do so carelessly. No one but us necessarily cares about this interpretation of the concept of evil. And if the blog itself absolves, it can too easily become a meaningless formality. No option seems acceptable.

00:10:46


Oh my God. She might show up any minute, and I've got nothing. Okay, forget the details. Let's get this going.

00:07:02

Okay, there's the barebones file. I could differentiate between cardinal sins and casual sins, with the punishment being different, but maybe it's best to paint all evil as equally unacceptable. There is something to be said for fundamentalism.

00:05:52


00:03:47

Okay, now to make it appear at the end of the post...

00:01:42


Okay, it works. Now there's just formatting...

-00:02:26

Oh, to heck with formatting. What difference does it make how the lines are spaced. She could walk in any minute now, and then I'll never want to publish this post! I need to finish right fricking now.

-00:03:24

-00:12:14



Yardena's home. I explained to her how this post works, and I just want to kiss her nonstop but she says I should publish the post. God bless Yardena.

1 Comment:

Anonymous said:

Interesting.
You need better enforcement though. Why not have the message appear at the bottom of the post in a more visually incriminating way?

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Wednesday, November 28, 2012

My Girlfriend Lives In Hyrule

"When he speaks, there is a phrase that Mr. Miyamoto always mentions that speaks directly to the very nature of the Zelda series. The phrase is: 'Zelda is a game that values reality over realism.' In the art world, realism is a movement to faithfully replicate the real world to whatever extent possible. Reality is not mimicking the real world, but rather making players feel like what they are experiencing is real.

...

"You know, when playing through the game there's no need to be aware of Link's age or what his ultimate goal is. But, when this happens, the things that the player is doing tend to become typical game actions and the awareness that the player is just playing a game becomes stronger. Players who need bombs to progress through the game, but don't have any, will by chance find themselves visiting the bomb shop in the middle of the night. When the shopkeeper says, 'Hey, you're just a boy!' the player who had not been consciously thinking that Link was just a boy realizes, 'Oh! That's right! I'm just a boy.' The player than reflects that he's walking around in the middle of the night and starts to feel the loneliness of the middle of the night. That leads the player to become one with the game world, and the player experiences reality."

-Eiji Aonuma, GDC 2004


I never understood the Forsaken Fortress. It's the first hostile area you reach in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and yet it always struck me as the hardest part of the entire game. You don't have a sword to fight with. There are no real puzzles to solve. There are no keys to allow more progress, or items gained to experiment with, or musical jingles indicating that you're on the right track. Everything I was comfortable with from the Zelda series was taken away. Except for the map, that is. So I studied that map, and set out to explore every single room until I figured out what I was supposed to be doing. In each room, I tried to understand the logic of the design. What were my options? What could I do that would lead to new opportunities? What could I do that would reduce my opportunities, and how could I avoid those situations? But the more I studied, the more confounded I became, to the point that I became convinced (and have remained so until now) that this gameplay was broken. Many hours into my expedition, I deduced that only one of the many rooms could possibly lead me to somewhere new, and so I memorized the path which I'd taken to get there (which was very complicated, and took around ten minutes to cover) and repeated it over and over and over until I made it through that room and on to the third floor.

I never understood the Forsaken Fortress, until I saw Yardena play it. Fighting my nature, I tried to be quiet and, as much as I could, just observe. This is what I saw:

A young boy named Pedro was at the Forsaken Fortress to rescue his sister. Most of the rooms had guards or rats or hoards of tiny monsters, so the frightened Pedro wisely avoided those rooms entirely. He snuck around outside, being very careful to never be spotted. And then, he noticed a window high up in the tallest tower, with a light on inside. Thinking only of his sister, he raced in that direction, and very quickly reached the third floor.

The logic of the design is perfectly simple: most of the rooms aren't very helpful because it's an enemy fortress. It's not a linear path of gameplay to follow, it's a hostile area that would exist even if the player weren't there. It's the attitude of the NES Legend of Zelda: "Here's a big and scary world, here's you, best of luck!". I saw Yardena sneak through the Forsaken Fortress, and I was humbled. I'd played The Wind Waker many times. But in all those times, I'd always thought of the Forsaken Fortress as a piece of gameplay that I needed to master, and I'd always gotten lost. Yardena, with her boundless imagination, gave in to the reality of the game 100%. And the game offered her a real world, the brilliance of which I'd never suspected.

Over and over, Yardena treated Pedro and his surroundings like they were real. Sometimes this led to small frustrations, as the rigid game systems displayed their lack of real-world logic. Sometimes Yardena ignored the game rules, pretending in funny little skits and voice-overs that they fit whatever narrative she wanted. And sometimes, the game astonished me by playing along. During one sidequest, we found out that a pair of Windfall Island residents had an unspoken attraction between them. It was one bullet point in a laundry list of cute interactions we were instructed to find, the completion of which led to the second phase of the sidequest. I had played through this optional sequence many times, and never thought much of it. But Yardena had the idea that if these two people were interested in each other, we ought to give them a little push in the right direction. She didn't seem to understand that once a non-player character has served its gameplay function, there isn't any more code to play with there. She was thinking of the characters as people, not parts of a game. So she took a picture of one of them, and handed it to the other. He realized he should make a move, and so he did. They went on a date. They ended up being very happy together. And I stopped seeing that a game was being played - I saw a reality.

I slowly came to realize that with all my praise of the Zelda games, I didn't have the connection to the series that I used to. When I played The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, it was with a buggy emulator that I played with a keyboard, but I believed in that world wholeheartedly. By the time I played The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, I was more experienced and jaded. I raced through that game, seeing what there was to see in the main quest and then stopping. When I tried replaying the game later on, I was disappointed. I was turned off by the excessive linearity early on, I gave up, and that has colored my opinion of the game ever since. I may have recommended that Yardena play The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks, and skip Twilight Princess entirely. But Yardena started Twiight Princess one day while I was away (She named the character Duncan.), and to her it was always a grand adventure. She hunted down the Poes, she explored every nook and cranny of the game, she collected every single bug, she spent hours looking for pieces of heart. And the game accommodated her. Yes, the first few hours are oppressively confining. But then it opens up. There are caves and pits all over the place, filled with strange challenges. There were mysteries that demanded to be solved. Pretty much the only thing we avoided was fishing. That did not interest Yardena.

In the Arbiter's Grounds, I told Yardena my opinion that the first half of the dungeon was a waste of time that you just had to slog through to get to the joyful second half of the dungeon. I remembered the thrill of speeding around on the Spinner (which you get in that dungeon), and my disappointment at never getting to use it again, though I would cheerfully have played a full game with it. So I braced myself for Yardena getting too bored of the dungeon's remixes of past Zelda experiences to get to the good part. But she loved it. She loved the puzzles and some of the fights and the clever exploration. And I kept waiting for her to get to the Spinner, and have the fun that I had. But the wait was long. I had forgotten quite how substantial the Ocarina of Time-referencing part of the dungeon was, since it had barely made any impression on me. And then we got to the Spinner, which immediately frustrated Yardena to no end. She couldn't manage to maneuver the speeding vehicle properly, so she gave up and handed it to me. Reluctantly, I played the first Spinner room for her. I couldn't manage to maneuver the speeding vehicle properly, so I had a blast for many minutes. Then I handed it back to her, but while she tried to take over, she had lost all her enthusiasm the game. She hated the Spinner with a passion. She couldn't understand what I had liked so much. And then we were already at the boss, because apparently this section which I had remembered being half of the dungeon was actually just the last two rooms. She asked me to fight the boss for her, and I did, but I was too depressed to enjoy it. Later on, we found plenty of Spinner tracks in the rest of the game that I'd been unaware of. Yardena always wanted me to deal with those, but Yardena reached one as she was playing on a Shabbat and had to face it herself. After much initial frustration, she eventually got good at it and had fun.

Shabbats were awkward, in general. Yardena always wanted to play Zelda on the day of rest, and I couldn't exactly say no. She's not religious, and if I weren't religious I'd say Zelda games were the best possible use of a Saturday.-------
Why were these people shouting?, Ariel wondered. He is not in our territory, and he understands what homes are made for. Should we not let him be?
Besides, I wanted to sit back and silently watch her while she played. She'd be playing anyway, whether I was there or not, so I didn't see any religious objections to this. And I never asked her to play, or to do anything in the game. I just did not explicitly object when she said she was going to play. Often this arrangement led to lovely afternoons. But just as often, it would lead to prolonged uncomfortable situations. Yardena would reach something that frustrated her, and I could have corrected her with just a word or two, but I felt that that would be equivalent to me taking the controller and playing for myself. So I needed to sit back and watch as the love of my life got more and more angry and stressed out, while I could do nothing about it.

"I don't know why I play these games!" was a cry I heard often, early on. The action and platforming elements were very stressful for her. The puzzles as well, if their solutions evaded her for very long. Every time she made the tiniest mistake, she took it as a sign of her own weakness and failure. And then I would sit by her as she calmed down, tell her that I loved her and that she was really doing quite well (which invariably, she was), and more often than not she would then return to the game and nail it. Sometimes it helped to turn down the volume on the tense music. You see, it was all a matter of confidence. Yardena was capable of overcoming everything the games threw at her. I never doubted it for a moment. But the question was whether she would know she could do it, and do well, or whether she would doubt herself, panic, and start losing control of her fingers. When she started playing Ocarina of Time, she had never played any games with direct control before. And when she got to the first boss of the first dungeon, she was terrified. She acted as anyone would act, were they trapped in a room with a big monster that was trying to kill them. It was one of the tensest fights I have ever seen in a game. At one point she was calming down, confident that the monster was on the other side of the room and she'd have time to prepare to retaliate, when the creature appeared right behind her. But I refused to take over from her. I gave encouragement, and some tips, but the issue was stress and I wanted Yardena to overcome it. Eventually she did, she defeated Queen Gohma, and it was glorious. If she were to fight that fight today, I suspect she'd be done in thirty seconds. She'd still feel intimidated, because she hasn't stopped acting like all of it were real. But she'd fight through it, because she is awesome.

(I should not have finished off the final boss of Twilight Princess for her. She had it. She had overcome every single stage of that battle up to that point all by herself, and all it took was another few hits to take Ganon down. But she had gotten paralyzed by self-doubt and frustration, I took over, and she ended the game with a very sour taste in her mouth. In The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks, by contrast, I did half the stages of the final battle, but I insisted that she finish the fight herself. She protested, but she did it, and was very proud of the ending.)

Watching Yardena play was a frequently inspiring experience. I've talked about the Reality Revolution, that point in the future where people will change realities as casually as one changes buses. I have never seen this concept illustrated as vividly as it was on the day that Pedro returned to the Forsaken Fortress. Yardena had been putting off the trip as long as possible, because she was scared of what she might have to face there. But one Shabbat, she decided that it was time to go. The Forsaken Fortress was a good five minutes' sail away. So she checked her map, set the boat on the right course, and started her lunch. Now, of course this is all perfectly natural. But there was just something in the way that she casually put the controller down, picked up her sandwich and started eating which blew me away. It was not the body language of a gamer, it was the body language of an experienced sea captain settling in for a long trip. The boat and the sandwich existed in the same reality, for her.

I don't know how long it took us to get to the Forsaken Fortress. It's hard to say sometimes, because after a while of playing we'd only recognize the cycle of days in the game, and not the changes in daylight outside the window. But eventually we got there, and Yardena suddenly was all business. She kept her distance, took out a telescope, and started scoping out the fortified island for a way in. When she didn't find one, she started circling around the island, without getting any closer, not ready to move in until she'd properly prepared her break-in. She found the wreckage of other ships which had tried to enter, and tried to climb on them so that she could glide across to the Fortress without being noticed. (If she moved in with her boat, it would tip them off, you see.) Now, the ships were just decorations, as far as the game was concerned. There wasn't actually any way to interact with them. And the way in was actually very simple: shoot the moat until it breaks, go right through. But Yardena gave herself in so fully to the story that she was experiencing a game better than what had actually been programmed. She added drama to everything she played, just by believing in it.

When she plays Zelda, I frequently tell her how much I love her. And sometimes she's confused. She thinks she's been playing poorly. She thinks, regardless of how many times I assure her otherwise, that I look down on her lack of experience and developing skills. But the truth is, I always admire her. Sometimes I even envy her. When I play games, I hope I can experience them the way Yardena does.

1 Comment:

Anonymous said:

Awww..
This is one of your best posts! I love it

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Tuesday, October 09, 2012

tick tock

So many things to do I can't keep them straight like for starters I'm engaged and I'm in Gondoliers and GDC is in March so "Adventure Games: Traditions vs. Potential" is the name of my lecture no poster session they're interested but not in the lecture format so here's the most ambitious thing I could possibly think of which I submitted at the last minute and I need to do it in little bite-sized chunks how do I do that and it's on Pessakh in San Francisco so I might need to give a lecture on a day when I can't use electronics or transportation or carry things around with me and what the hell do I do for the Seder but I want Gamer Mom in the Independent Game Festival so I need to run a booth with the game I've already paid to enter it which means I can't pay the bills and maybe Benjy will let me stay with him if I ask but I haven't spoken to him in years and maybe I can get someone to explain to me what a poster session at the Game Developers Conference entails but I don't have time because I need to update the blog which I've neglected for months because my life doesn't make sense it's all details and not ideas which I can comprehend and deal with it by regulating via rules and multiple personalities but they're quiet because the Person has taken over saying why would I want to do anything when Yardena is playing Zelda: Twilight Princess but I still hope she finishes the other games because I want her to see the end of Ocarina of Time and The Wind Waker but maybe she won't face the final dungeons herself so I'll need to offer to play them for her and then there's Choice of the Dragon which I thought would be right up her alley but she didn't finish it and how do I bring it up when she's trying to clean the house and make money and she's still at her job because even though it makes her physically ill it's money and I need money but audio transcription pays next to nothing so I really should apply for more transcription jobs if I have time between making a marketable web site so that I can start a web site design business with Yardena dealing with people because I can't deal with people yet they keep bothering me with "mazel tov"s and questions and demands and I just want to be married already so that our relationship is in a socially-acceptable framework and they'll all leave me alone already because I just want to curl up in a ball and watch TV shows with Yardena and never return until she's watched all of Babylon 5 which she just started but she wants me to spend this week making sure that I have the opportunity to go to GDC because that would be me following my dreams which I've only paid lip service to because the Rules don't work when there are obligations around so I need to rewrite all of those using the transition steps and I also need to add restrictions to the conference room so that I can never start a day without adequate preparation but I'd still need to know how to play the day which relies on the Thinker and the Explorer and the Programmer and the Musician taking a month or so to work out how to make my life work even though its natural state is as a lazy bum and I could be spending time with Yardena even though I'm afraid she may stop loving me if I don't stop wasting every single day of my life because who could love a person who's a hypocrite and a leech on resources so I need to find a long-term job which will also let me work on The Invention of Dance on the side which I haven't even planned out in broad strokes and anyway Angles & Circles takes precedence even though it's a complete mess that I can't give up on because I do love that world and I put hundreds of hours of work into that goddamned program which isn't coalescing though I'm very proud of the work I did so I need to figure out if it's possible to salvage any of it and still have the energy to get laundry done because right now I'm just sitting by the computer in a towel seeing as how I don't have any clothes left and I'd better be sure to wash my dress pants before Shabbat when we'll have a meal with my grandparents who are coming from America and then on Monday we're going to Beit Shemesh for the first meeting of the parents which is supposed to be a big deal for some reason though I don't see why because family has never mattered to me much but that'll need to change when we have our own family which we're leaning toward naming Rosebuck which is a portmanteau of our family names and Yardena wants kids in a few years which I know she can't be happy in the long term without and I desperately want for her to be happy in the long term no matter what it takes to get there but if it takes giving up on games then I've got only a few years to finish everything and then I need to spend all my time on loving and raising kids while Yardena makes money to support all of us but in the meantime she doesn't make that much so I need to be able to pay the bills which I'd do if I had any idea how to make money in this crazy reality I'm stuck in where effort doesn't pay off because you can prove yourself to be a reliable actor to work with but then you show one moment of weakness in an audition and they think they can string you along with hopes of roles you can't get but which need to be learned anyway because there might be a chance that the person they're interested in isn't reliable but I first need to show that I'm reliable by learning the music for tomorrow's chorus rehearsal even though I don't have the sheet music yet but when I get it I will totally learn everything they want me to learn because I still want to do Trial By Jury and Cox and Box with them someday so I can't show a moment of weakness or everyone might realize what a crappy person I am like how I haven't spoken to Moshe in months I need to call him right now or he'll get angry at me.

Ah, that was a very pleasant phone call. What time is it- oh dear. Can we just pretend this post is finished?

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

Much luck in this new stage of your life. May it live up to its potential. =) I hope we'll get to hear more from you, but I totally understand if we don't.

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Thursday, September 13, 2012

Yardena Is Home

My life revolves around my girlfriend now.

When Yardena left the country, I found myself unable to enjoy anything I did. I had plenty of time to be writing blog posts, but no interest in anything I might say. I tried to entertain myself with comics and TV and movies, but I only felt hollow. I tried getting back on track with a new version of The Rules, but I couldn't muster any enthusiasm for a version of my life that didn't involve Yardena most of the time.

I should note that these qualities in me did not start or end with Yardena's two-week trip to America. But when she's here, these don't seem like problems. My life was so empty before I fell in love, and I tried to insert meaning and creativity and other silly things to fill the void. But now what was missing in my life is here. If the emptiness had the potential to drive me, then completeness has the potential to freeze me in one state for the rest of my existence.

But what a state it is! I endlessly cycle between comfort, anticipation, excitement and gratitude. She played The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (in a way that I'd associate with the Platonic ideal of Zelda players), and is now addicted to The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. Every night before we go to sleep, she wants to watch an episode of Phineas and Ferb. Any time I act in a way that is odd and true, she loves me more for it. If I talk for hours about something no one but me cares about, she's genuinely happy to listen.

And maybe best of all, I can make her happy. I have never felt needed by another person before. Sometimes people appreciate the strange things I am so intent on purveying, but no one's ever really needed my presence like Yardena does. Heck, few people even tolerate my presence for long.

The love I get from Yardena isn't conditional on whether I succeed or fail at little social games, or how well I follow Rules, or what progress I have to report. Where there was darkness, there is now a light that shines on me brightly at all times. When I look at Yardena, I know that I belong with her, and I don't care about my selves cracking apart. The fog has faded away, and it is the day after tomorrow.

Yesterday, Yardena said to me that she prefers playing games with me around, because she feels like we're going on an adventure together. It's true: when we're together, we're not tethered to the Real World anymore. Time behaves differently. Existence behaves differently. All stories are real, and all of reality feels like a story we've been told.

My life revolves around my girlfriend now. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

2 Comments:

Anonymous said:

Awww.. :-)

Anonymous said:

Well, this blog went from interesting to boring fast.

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Thursday, August 23, 2012

Not Much Ado

Dish #1 out of approximately 25... so what have I been doing lately? A week ago I saw a production of Much Ado About Nothing. Turns out I don't like Shakespeare. I sort of knew that already, but I was told that it's not enough to read Shakespeare, you've got to see Shakespeare. So now I've seen Shakespeare. The actors seemed to be having a good time. Myself, less so. There are long parts where it's very clear what the point of the scene is, but it takes forever because everything is poetic and overwritten. The characters are really annoying and unlikeable. Shakespeare does not hold up. I'm just putting that out there. A play where you've got a character who is publicly humiliated by a guy, and yet you're expected to root for them ending up together, that does not hold up. In the year 1600 maybe what goes on between Claudio and Hero seemed perfectly natural -Hero faking her own death so that that asshole Claudio should feel -what, is that supposed to be love? What, if she's a corpse, suddenly he'll respect her? And then what's supposed to happen when she comes back to life? Will he like her as much, or will he say: "Eh, I preferred the corpse. The corpse I didn't have to do much to deal with, it was just grief. But you, you're work. I'm supposed to actually listen to you and ask you about things?"? Dish #3... I don't understand why people get taken in by Shakespeare. There's stuff you can find on TV these days that's so much more dramatic, and so much more plausible at the same time. Breaking Bad, now there's a great show. A creepy, creepy show. And yet you can believe it because ow! Better lower the temperature of this water.

Anyway, I saw Much Ado About Nothing because Dena did the costumes for it. Curse you, dish #4... I hope that doesn't start bleeding... Dena did the costumes, I don't know anything about costumes, so I can't say whether they were good or not. What do I know about clothes? And then I rushed back home because I didn't really feel like talking to anybody. I have those days. Sometimes I want to hang out with people, and sometimes I just want to be at my computer.

Speaking of which: two friends from Beit Shemesh told me to watch The Big Bang Theory. Now, The Big Bang Theory, as shown on TV, is unwatchable. It's kind of stupid, with its conventional sitcom plots and conventional sitcom characters. Sheldon does remind me of me, so I'll give them that. But it was unwatchable -that is, until I started watching it at 170% speed. That seems to be the perfect rhythm for the show. So much so that when I try watching it at normal speed, it feels like it's in slow motion. You have to wait for them to... slowly... say... each... little... gag... and... then... you wait... for... the... laugh... track.... And yet, for some reason, I've gotten addicted to it. I can't say it's very good. I don't like any of the characters except for Sheldon Cooper and Amy Farrah Fowler. Surprise, surprise, I like the characters who are like me. But the other characters don't have much going on. Leonard is annoying - his priorities are all wrong. He doesn't seem to care about his work much, he seems to only care about sex. Which I guess makes him relatable to the viewers, who also don't care about his work much, but very much do care about sex. It's always the same story with Leonard. "Ooh, a naked lady! I guess I suddenly have no control over myself, because that's how a man is!". Yeah, I dislike Leonard. Penny isn't as annoying as I thought she'd be from the beginning of the show; she has more of a tolerance for nerd culture than I would expect from a person like that in real life. The most implausible thing about the show is that she hangs around with them at all. She seems entirely too stupid, except when the writers suddenly decide she's smart because they want her to have a punchline. Ah, sitcoms.

Dish #9... I wish a show could start with those clichés, and then go somewhere interesting. You know, get you expecting something conventional and comforting, and then, once you're hooked, actually do something with it. I love the fact that LOST -whatever its many failings- looked like something that was going to be acceptable to the target demographic. And then it got weird. I like the fact that it pretended to give a damn about convention, and then didn't. I'm kind of hoping that The Big Bang Theory goes somewhere, but who am I kidding. There's no justification, it's a guilty pleasure. The fact is, I am watching The Big Bang Theory because I am lonely and my life is pointless. I would like to pass the hours with as little brainwork as possible. Not how my life was supposed to be at this point, but let's not think about that. Live in the moment, right? Each episode of The Big Bang Theory is just ten minutes long. Dish #14...

I hate doing dishes. This is why I buy plastic cups, but I forgot at my last trip to the supermarket. I'll need to go back, I forgot other things. I need a new pen, because the pen I use is running out of ink. I'll have to go to the pen store.

Life is good, I guess. I live in a great place, I've got some friends, most of whom are in America right now, but friends nonetheless. Sometimes I talk with them over instant messenger. "It is good to have friends, is it not?"... And I can do whatever I want, so naturally... I watched... The Big Bang Theory. Maybe I should play more of The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. It's bloated, but it has some good sidequests.

I have data entry work now, finally. I don't know what I'd do without this job. It's the only thing keeping me from not being able to pay my rent. I can't find any more jobs. Yardena suggested that maybe, come September, there will be more jobs available because half the workforce will have gone back to school. She may be on to something. I hope she is. I'm not looking for a career, but I'm looking for a way to pay the bills and come home and worry about things that are important. Like... like... Angles & Circles, what ever happened with that? That is a game that I need to make. I thought maybe I could get away with not making it, but all the other plans I have depend on my ability to have good world design. I don't know anyone who can do that -no, that's a lie, there's that one woman, what was her name... don't remember. Who married... that other one whose name is eluding me. Oh well. I'll have to do it myself.

I went to dinner with my family the other day, for Dena's birthday, and my father asked me why I haven't been doing much. And I had nothing to tell him.

Look at me, the big-shot gamist! Dish #19...

I tried to play music earlier. It was a mess. The MIDI keyboard does not inspire me. I need some good soundfonts, but where do I find them? I need better software, but it requires Windows. Eah, forget better software. I will take my freedom over good software! My freedom with Kubuntu, which gives me random errors all the time, and which doesn't have the features I need, with a terrible interface... ah, how I love Kubuntu.

I'm going to try out for The Gondoliers, so I should probably write out the accompaniment to Ode To Your Face for the audition. I've been putting that off for more than a year. This is more than 25 dishes, to be sure. [sigh] Dish #21.

So I have more data entry work coming up, and soon Yardena gets back from America. So actually, life won't be too bad. I like data entry. I'll be efficient. I'll be a machine. No emotions. No plans for the future. I'll just enjoy the work, go home, watch some TV... or maybe I'll go shopping. There are a few other things I need... what were they? Ah, yes. I need a computer mouse. Mine is eleven years old and it feels it. Ecch. Dish #22 is covered in ants. There you go, death to bugs. And plastic cups. Yes, I need to buy plastic cups.

Now that I've gotten used to watching The Big Bang Theory at 170%, I find that all 24 frames-per-second videos look extremely jerky. I'm looking at it and saying, is this what I've been used to all this time? And that's why I'm so disappointed about The Hobbit not being released in 48 frames per second. When I heard that, 90% of my enthusiasm went away in an instant. I wanted to see what 3D would look like when my brain wasn't struggling to make sense of the images because of the jerkiness. And then they decided, oh no, people don't like improvements, people don't like change. Let's not give them change. Let's pretend they can have change, and then jerk it all away and leave them with the same stupid 24 frames per second they've always had. Corporations suck.

In related news, I'm not hearing about any games that interest me. I hope I haven't turned into that kind of old gamer who just sits around saying "It was better in my day.". But it was better in my day. And it was better in the days before that. It just goes downhill all the way. But why do I care, I don't play games anymore. I watch The Big Bang Theory now. This is what my life has become.

Eh, it's good enough. I've got a nice apartment, I've got data entry work, I've got my computer, I've got my nice big bed, with a fan aimed at it. The weather isn't... quite so deadly at the moment, though I guess it is in the days. I'm living the dream! Whose dream, I'm not sure. I'll do the other dishes later.

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Show performance reviews for June 2012Daily performance reviews for June 2012:(Rules)

one anonymous comment
Anonymous said:

This is such a beautiful post.

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2012, July 12th, 22:05 and 55 seconds

Give up to win

I never got a chance to show
My class a single melody.
Never will I get to know
What they would have thought of me.
Since then I've had no teacher.
No notes.
I'm free.


I play piano often now-
Doesn't matter what or how.
I just sit down at the keys
And play exactly as I please-
It's just for fun, y'know?
Don't matter if it's new or old,
Don't matter if it's trash or gold,
Don't matter if there's anyone to show.
I don't care about the players above me.
I just play, and one day I realized:
It sounds lovely.

From my poem The Older Pianist

At the Friday night dinner table at my parents' house two months ago, my mother told me she had been playing Gamer Mom. I'd modeled the adventure game after all the frustrations I'd caused myself in obsessively trying to get my family to play games, for all those years I was living with them, so I naturally was curious to hear how they felt about my creation. I listened with fascination as my mother described trying to get the fictional family to play World of Warcraft, and failing (of course), and trying again, and failing again, and giving up and coming back more determined than ever and losing all hope and getting frustrated and asking me for a hint and being confused by my hint and continuing for hours. Yes, my mother played this depressing little game of mine for hours, far longer than I expected anyone to withstand the emotional abuse the game inflicts on its players. This is my mother, the person in my life that I would have rated the least likely to ever touch a computer game. She explained that on one day in her now-empty nest, she'd decided that it would be nice if she could send me an SMS saying that she'd beaten my game, and to that end she tried to brute-force the puzzle by taking notes of every path she took.-"Can I see it?", I asked. She seemed bewildered and hurt. Why would I want to see the evidence of her failure? But I kept insisting, and finally she gave me the four pages she'd filled out of branch after branch, all written out in her perfectly neat handwriting with an "X" following every line. (When she reached the winning ending, she would have instead drawn a smilie face at the end of the line.) I could see from the pages that she was not at all close to beating the game, because the depth of the characters' apathy was much greater than she might have imagined, and she had eventually come to that conclusion herself. She seemed truly hurt by how the experience had played out, which delighted me not only because for the first time ever she was invested in a computer game, but also because her short-term frustrations so neatly mirrored my long-term frustrations with her and the rest of my family. She did not seem overly interested in this parallel; she was just bitter that she hadn't succeeded in connecting with me like she wanted to. All she wanted was to send that SMS, and I'd made it so difficult for her... -"But these pages are the most touching thing ever!", I insisted. I didn't care whether she had beaten the game or not, I cared that she'd experienced something that was real to me, and which she had never understood about me. What I didn't bother to explain to her is that I only put the goal there to trap the player in an endless loop of trying harder, and not to provide an opportunity for fulfillment.

The Importance of Being Earnest was the easiest acting experience I've ever had. That wasn't due to a lack of depth in the source material, or a deficiency in the directing - I just didn't put much into it, and no one acted like I was expected to. Sura -the director- needed to worry about making sure the audience on all sides of the stage (which was in the middle of the room) always had something to be watching to pull them into the scene. Yardena -the assistant director- needed to make sure that the characterization wasn't lost in all the movement and gimmickry. But me? I just needed to show up, know my lines and have fun. I did not have any compelling insights into the character of Jack. The relationship between him and Algernon reminded me of the relationship between Moshe and myself, but I didn't draw any specific parallels to that in my performance. It's not that I couldn't have gone far with this character and opportunity. It's that I didn't care as much about theater as I have in the past. I'd always beaten myself up trying to create the ideal versions of characters, suffering with the realization that I wasn't even coming close to what I'd envisioned. But with this play, I didn't go beyond the surface of the character: stiff with a secret sense of humor, always aspiring to be authoritative but without really having his heart in the effort. All my costars were really nice people who were fun to be around and to work with, not to mention very competent actors (a rarity in community theater!). I paid attention to them, I played the scenes in ways that seemed to make sense (though I didn't think about anything too much), I listened to the directors (who didn't ever challenge me), and I never went the extra mile. The audiences loved it, and with good reason. The directing was fantastic, there wasn't a weak link in the cast, it was snappy and engaging and at the best moments we interacted with each other like we were just people hanging out comfortably. It was a really good show. My father enjoyed it, my mother (obviously) enjoyed it, my friends enjoyed it, my siblings enjoyed it, my peers in theater enjoyed it, my high school English teacher enjoyed it (and was laughing audibly through the entire show), random strangers told me that they enjoyed it. All this, from me not sweating the details.

I went to Beit Shemesh for Shabbat two weeks ago. I didn't have anything to talk to my family (including my visiting cousin) about, so I spent most of the day at the Feldmans, where Yardena was staying. Part of the reason I went to my parents' house that week was that without Yardena to talk to, it would have been a more than usually dull Shabbat if I'd stayed in Jerusalem. After Shabbat, and before the buses started running, I passed the time by talking about nothing with Harel. He showed me a little bit of the DVD of The Importance of Being Earnest, and I cringed. Seeing all the details in front of me like that made me notice all the ways in which they didn't add up. I plan to never watch that video again. We're going to have more performances in September (due to the show's success), and I don't want to feel like I need to work more. As soon as Yardena was ready to go, we got on a bus to Jerusalem. We sat in the back, next to a Kharedi man who evidently pushed aside his righteous horror at the sight of a man and woman sitting next to each other, in order to launch right into full-on glee. "I think it's from God that we ended up sitting next to each other!", he said. I tried to have a conversation with Yardena, and within thirty seconds it was apparent to me that this man was going to keep interrupting us until we listened to some lecture or other about sin. So the next time he interrupted us, I immediately said to him as bluntly as I could: "Please shut up.". And he did. Yardena said I was awesome for talking like that. I think most people would call it "rude". And certainly there are those who would side with the Kharedi, and say it was admirable for him to cleverly reach out to two so misguided folks as ourselves. But I don't care what other people want from me. I do what is right for me, and other people can live with it or get out of my sight. I don't need to argue with anyone except for my selves.

...though, I'm spending less and less time with them these days. I feel accepted nowadays. Content. I am not an outcast anymore, because I don't recognize the legitimacy of a society that would reject me. Who am I? Who cares. Life is good. I don't need to struggle. I don't need to argue. I don't need to change. I don't need to pretend. I don't need to perform, or create, or think, or write, or play. I'm happy just being me, and I don't care who that "me" is. It's not me vs. the world. It's not me listening to an older pianist. It's not even me doing what I'm told but not as I'm told. It's just me.

Hello.


2012, June 11th, 11:59 and 09 seconds

View the character-building of May 2012Daily performance reviews for May 2012:(Rules)

Reflections on May 2012

The Thinker's summary

May would have been a momentous month regardless of how we approached it -it was my first month of independence, and it was the month when (at long last) I released Gamer Mom to a very enthusiastic blogosphere. The sensible thing to do would have been to give as much control to the Worker as possible, so that he could get everything done with a minimum of wasted time. But after March we'd felt that too much control had been given to the Worker, and that the other characters were losing their independence as a result. So we decided to randomize the character-selection process: the conference room randomizes the order of the characters, and since we don't really trust the computer's pseudorandomness we'd pick a number from 1 to 8, then look at the list and see who that number represented. If that character refused the day, a different character would be chosen; but on the whole, characters wanted to play. This readiness to play any character gave a lot of energy when we were willing to take the game seriously.

Often we were not taking the game seriously, because there was an effect similar to that of March: one character ended up being dominant, that character being the Person, and his attitudes infected us all. Now, the Person did come up in the randomization a lot, but this effect would have happened anyway. We have a rule that says "If other people unexpectedly become involved in a day, immediately switch to the Person.", and apparently we've forgotten that the word "unexpectedly" is in there. (Oops.) Every single time Yardena was involved with a day -which was basically always, since we're living together- the Person took the initiative to take over. He does not technically have that right - any other character may choose to switch to the Person, but the Person (like any other character) does not have the right to take over on his own initiative unless the other person has entered the day "unexpectedly". I am not going to penalize the Person because I believe the offense was made based on an honest misinterpretation of the Rules. I should have noticed the problem during one of the scoring sessions, and I did not so this is entirely on me.

In any event, the Person has always had a very flippant attitude toward the Rules, and this comes across in the number of wasted days we had. But even ignoring that, there are problems in the Person having this much control. We watched very little TV which was not part of a social activity; but now that we're living with someone who watches all the same shows, all TV has become a social activity because every night she wanted to watch something. There is much less guilt felt while watching TV with someone else, as compared with watching TV alone, and I do think there is value in strengthening relationships through shared experiences, but a sense of proportion was desperately needed and not present. The time allocation tables were originally instituted to promote an understanding of proportion, and though the scoring has shifted away from that aim I think we should still try to pay attention to which activities are reaching the top. Being able to watch TV with someone else means that technically, every character (not just the Worker) is allowed to watch TV by switching to the Person. This destroys the balance between productivity and indulgence which was mostly achieved by restricting TV access to the Worker (who would be most responsible about enforcing its limits).

Going into June (or the second half of June at any rate, since this post is late), there are a few things we need to keep in mind. First, no character is obligated to switch to the Person. If Yardena comes home and we're in the middle of something, a judgement must be made whether or not to switch to the Person before joining her, asking how her day was, having long conversations about love, watching TV, etc. as the habit has become. If necessary, have a short conference to settle the matter. There is no need for the other characters to be entirely antisocial, but there is a tremendous gulf between complete antisocialness and switching to the Person at a moment's notice. Remember the word "unexpectedly". Yardena's presence -and even her willingness to socialize- will never be unexpected. Second, the conferences are there to allow you to see where you stand. If someone's getting too much power, call him out on it and demand your equal share. Musician, I see from the transcripts that you've given up on trying to get days. That's a problem, because if you don't stand up for yourself no one else will. Get angry again, get what you're owed, and don't let the Person push you around.

2012, June 15th, 17:34 and 37 seconds

Adulthood, month 01

01-05 May 2012

Started draining the money I got doing data entry in previous months. Haven't been paid yet for the work I did last month, or the beginning of this month.

Gamer Mom is almost ready. Need to add a few comments still, and it'll take a long time to go through button-by-button and make sure it works with oversized or undersized fonts. I also need to make the whole gamism.org site, which will frame the game in the appropriate context. I'll do it later.

No working internet connection yet. All my efforts have done nothing. To do: buy a different model of wireless card that's compatible with Linux.

The Importance of Being Earnest continues apace. We're figuring out the staging, which is unusual because the stage is in the middle of the room with the audience on four sides. It's a nice group of people to be spending this much time with.

06-16 May 2012

06-16 May 2012

The money in my post office bank account is running out very quickly. I won't be able to use that account to do anything on the internet, so I've opened a "real" bank account. I can't put any money into it yet, because the local branch doesn't have any tellers and I don't have an ATM card yet. Gamer Mom hosting will have to wait.

Did some adjustments to the Gamer Mom buttons, but it's too much work for not enough point. No more of this. The comments are complete, I'm making the site. Any day now, I'll be able to put Gamer Mom on the internet.

No working internet connection. There are no brands of wireless cards in the nearby stores that are compatible with Linux. I have no idea what to do.

We're restaging a lot of scenes in The Importance of Being Earnest, because no one remembers what the staging was. I'll have to write down what my staging is, so that I shouldn't forget.

17-22 May 2012

17-22 May 2012

Walked to the local bank to see if my ATM card had arrived. It hadn't. Walked to another branch of the bank, put in money. Came home to host Gamer Mom. I see PayPal doesn't accept direct deposits from non-U.S. bank accounts even though it allows withdrawals. Walked back to the local bank to order a credit card. Now I wait for it to arrive.

Harel came over to fix my internet problem. The live CD for Kubuntu 12 has no problem with my wireless card, so all that is needed is an upgrade (from Kubuntu 10). The upgrade, unfortunately, requires a working internet connection, which I do not have. Harel doesn't have time for the whole procedure, so he tells me to download the alternate installation CD from the live CD and run the upgrade program. I do that, and it says there are packages that it can't upgrade. I write a shell script to just uninstall those packages it's having trouble with, while creating a second shell script that would reinstall those packages. It turns out, the packages it has trouble with are somewhat fundamental. Every other package I've ever installed, including the base kubuntu-desktop package, gets uninstalled. If I turn off the computer, I will not be able to boot up again. I run the upgrade program, and it says I don't have the packages needed to upgrade. Harel tells me to boot into the live CD regardless, and we spend many hours manually upgrading. I reboot, it seems to go in, nothing gets displayed. What is the problem? Who knows. Harel tells me to copy my home directory, reformat the hard drive, install Kubuntu 12, and copy the home directory back. Yardena lends me an external hard drive, and I follow his instructions. I start staying up later, so that I'll have more time to fix everything. Finally I can boot into what looks like my desktop, but trying to run anything at all crashes the computer. Harel tells me to delete the KDE user settings folder, and I do. There is much that isn't set up right, and will probably not be right for months or years to come. But I can use my computer.

23-25 May 2012

23-25 May 2012

I buy the gamism.org domain, pay for hosting through pay-what-you-use hosting service nearlyfreespeech.net, I upload the files, and Gamer Mom is now on the internet. Before sharing it with anyone, I set up a button for donations (through PayPal), and put together a large page of behind-the-scenes materials from Gamer Mom to give to everyone who donates. This takes many more hours than anticipated. Then I link to the game from my blog, send out letters to friends, family, acquaintances and bloggers, and finally at 7:26 AM I can go to sleep. The following evening, Adam Smith of Rock Paper Shotgun (one of the bloggers I'd contacted) picks up the game and players come pouring in by the tens of thousands. Their responses are everything I hoped they'd be. But I had never actually done the math on hosting for that many people. Each time I reload the nearlyfreespeech.net page, the amount of money in it goes down by a few nickels. I have not been paid yet for the data entry job I did in April, so my bank account has just 200 shekels in it. But if the hosting stops, thousands of people who would have come and shared the game with others can't access it and the internet moves on. Their responses are so beautiful, I can't let that happen. So in a fatigued panic, I put half my money into the hosting. I can get by for a little while without food, but Gamer Mom needs to keep going. Only a few donations so far (I realize only after several hours of the game's popularity that I had messed up the donation link, and thousands of potential donors had not had access to that page.), but I decide that I'll put that money into hosting that isn't pay-what-you-use. I call Harel, he searches the web, and the only hosting service he can find which has reasonable prices for a terabyte of monthly bandwidth is vps.net, which he is not familiar with. I sign up, and cannot make heads or tails of it. But the money in the hosting keeps ticking down, and if I go to sleep before transferring the hosting, it may be offline by the time I wake up. Yardena plays Gamecube to keep me company, under the theory that having someone in the room with me will add pressure to get things done and not drift off. It is keeping me focused on my computer screen, but what is on that screen is making no sense to me. I don't know what "namespaces" or "virtual private servers" or "DNS resource records" are. I can't even figure out how to SSH into vps.net, let alone transfer the hosting there without downtime. Harel tries to explain basic internet concepts to me, but I have not had enough sleep and my brain is mush. After many hours of staring at what seems like a foreign language without any information entering my brain, I put even more money into nearlyfreespeech.net and go to sleep. The next morning I send the password to Harel so that he can do the work for me, and he can't get vps.net to work either because apparently it's just bad. So he recommends the ethically-dubious godaddy.com for its pricing, and at this point I will do just about anything to keep the game on the internet so I go through the setup process and discover that even with the donations and even with a 30% off coupon that Harel gave me, the money I have to my name is just a dollar short of being able to pay for a month of hosting now that I've fed all that money into the other service. With just hours to go until a two-day holiday in which I can't use electronics, I try to think of ways to get money. Is there any way I can get money into my account, or get money from my parents, or ask Kyler (on vacation in Europe) to pay for it, or...? No. Even running around like a crazy person, even with Harel doing nothing but helping me for all that time, even with people supporting me all over, I can't set up hosting in a matter of hours. I hadn't had time to make any preparations at all for the holiday! So I thank Harel, and tell him that I'm just going to let the game go down. I put an urgent message on the donation link's hover text, saying that we need money to keep Gamer Mom on the internet. If we get money it'll still go offline some time in the next day or two (because I won't be available to put the money in), but after that we'd be able to keep it up. Almost immediately after adding this message, I get a small donation which I put into nearlyfreespeech.net. Probably not enough to keep it up for two days, but enough for a few extra hours. With the rest of my limited time before Shabbat, I read all the nice things people are saying about my work.

26-27 May 2012

27-31 May 2012

I turn on my computer. Gamer Mom is still online - the money was apparently enough. Two hundred Canadian dollars in donation money, now. I take off the message saying donations are urgent, and the donations stop. I decide to leave the game on nearlyfreespeech.net, to not impose on Harel any more.

Jay Bibby of the major game site jayisgames.com contacts us, asking whether he can host the game. I provide everything he needs, and it is quickly added to the site along with a very positive review. Thousands of new players pour in at this additional address.

I get addicted to following the Gamer Mom reactions. Every plan I make gets interrupted by hours of scouring the web for reviews, discussions and idle references. God bless the internet, the king of all time-wasters.

I start having trouble remembering lines in play rehearsals.

01 June 2012

01 June 2012

I go back to Beit Shemesh for Shabbat, not because I want to but because I have no money for food and at my parents' house I won't go hungry. The rent is due.

Shavuot 2012

Shavuot is one of the few holidays I actually enjoy. The tradition of staying up all night, wandering from lecture to lecture, appeals to me more than maybe any other tradition in Judaism. It combines so many things I like: thinking about things, wandering around, staying up late. Even in Beit Shemesh, Shavuot was always an exciting experience. I expected that Shavuot in Jerusalem would be even better. It might have been, if I'd had the time to plan out my night. Unfortunately, I found only five minutes to hurriedly search Google for talks. The item at the top of the list was a series at the Shalom Hartman Institute, which (Google Maps informed me) is in walking distance of my apartment. I didn't have time to check what the Hartman Institute was, or what the talks were about, or even what language the talks were in. So I went, and it was certainly interesting if not prticularly convincing. It was a succession of talks about how really, any kind of Judaism you want to go by is perfectly fine, and let's not get too particular about which kind of Judaism makes more sense than others. I gather that everything at the Hartman Institute is like that.

It ended very early, so I went home and started looking through the Khumash for myself. I got stuck on the sotah section, which decrees that a woman who is suspected of adultery should be poisoned and declared guilty unless she's fortunate enough for the poison to not kill her. Try as I might, I couldn't find any way to interpret the section in a way that's not hideously wrong. It's so blunt about what it's saying that there's no room for any interpretations at all. It says that whether or not the woman actually did anything, her husband is right to put her through this and she deserves whatever she gets.

I started wondering whether the Hartman Institute was right, and we should pick and choose which parts of the Torah to follow. But then it all seems kind of arbitrary. "I need to make sure Gamer Mom stays on the internet, so I'll ignore Shabbat this week!", "I've decided to have another God, so I'll just overlook the place where it says that that's a problem.", "I see that guy cutting wheat on Shabbat, but I'm choosing not to kill him even though I really should!" (Wait a minute...). I don't know, maybe it is arbitrary. Certainly I'm not keeping what little I am from Judaism because it makes sense to me, I'm just using Orthodoxy as a place holder until the theoretical day that I try to figure out my own take on the Torah. The story of Sotah makes me think that maybe that's not even theoretically possible, though. I don't know that I'd be comfortable with a philosophy that's so internally inconsistent. I can accept internal inconsistencies only when I'm not thinking about them.

After these thoughts, I went to sleep. I desperately needed that sleep, seeing as how I'd been going to bed later and later in the preceding days. Say what you will about Judaism, but there's definitely something to the "day of rest" thing. This was the first time in my life that I actually looked forward to a two-day holiday (rather than dreading it). Even without having made concrete plans for food (For half the meals I just had bagels with cream cheese.) or socializing or really anything else, the fact that I couldn't work on the game meant that I could relax. I could read Lewis Carroll's Phantasmagoria (How had I never heard of such a brilliant story?), I could talk about Gamer Mom with friends of Yardena's, I could attend Yardena's pancake-fest, I could sit and do nothing; and through all of it, I didn't feel the need to be doing anything. It was lovely. Every previous holiday was spent in my parents' house, and while they were running around frantically beforehand and then feeling relieved to be starting, I always felt detached from the ritual and its purpose. Now that I'm living on my own (or to be more precise, with Yardena), it's different. It makes sense now.

(Maybe other parts of Judaism only make sense in context, as well. Can't imagine a context in which the Sotah laws make sense, though.)

The end of Shavuot felt like a ticking time bomb. As soon as the holiday ended, I'd need to learn what was going on with my site. And that would mean having to deal with what was going on with my site. I had no idea what that entailed, or whether I was capable of it. The specifics of my problems were far from my mind, but something of the tension stayed with me.

27-31 May 2012


2012, May 31st, 18:30 and 23 seconds

Hello, world.

So. Gamer Mom's been getting some reactions.

From Rob for the blog "World One Two":
Gamer Mom is one of the most important indies produced this year. It is a call for games to hold meaning, to be genuine, to say something.
axeman157

This is how I felt when I tried to get my friends into Dwarf Fortress.
doo dad wrote:
this game isn’t very interesting. i could tell it was written by some nerd by the writing. it just doesn’t feel real at all, felt more like the deluded reality of someone who feels they are victimized when really they’re actually confusing victimization with not getting their way all the time.
harald from the Adventure Gamers forum:
I remember your earlier posts about this, but I’m still not sure about the concept. It doesn’t feel like much more than a variation on my least favourite adventure game puzzle: the dialogue maze. It was fun to try out the different combinations for a while, but it gets old quickly. Also, it’s frustrating to get loads and loads of depressing endings but never be rewarded (if there hadn’t been a message assuring me that there was a way to get them to play, I would never have spent as much time with it as I did). Though I guess the “everyday blues” theme might just not be what I’m looking for in games, and I shouldn’t let that affect my impression of your concept.

But in the end all I see is a huge dialogue puzzle. Reluctantly, I’m reminded of my favourite adventure game series; the Tex Murphy games, whose dialogue trees could be terribly difficult to get through. In both cases there is too little indication of which conversation path the game designer wants you to take, so you end up either guessing or brute-forcing your way through. And with “Gamer Mom” the combinations are too many for these approaches to work. (I realise that was probably the intention.) I can imagine that it’s lots of fun to script a huge dialogue structure like this, but I’m having difficulty seeing where the entertainment value for me as a player comes in.
Patricia Hernandez for Kotaku: Gamer Mom is a short adventure game that puts you in the shoes of a mother just trying to have a conversation with her family. That alone is unusual—it's not a typical role to put a player in, after all. What is also curious about the game is that the mom is trying to rope either her husband or her daughter into playing World of Warcraft with her, of all things. Or, at least listen to her talk about it.

While the visuals may look rushed at first glance, they manage to capture the feel of the situation really well. The dialogue is also noteworthy, as its a poignant reminder of the difficulty in communication we sometimes have—even with those closest to us. What the game captures above all is nuance in conversations, particularly with creating a sense of futility in this case.
All I could think, going through this, is that if you are an adult who seriously thinks that your teenager needs to enjoy the same activities that you do, you are really not remembering at all what it's like to be a teenager. And the husband just seems to be a jerk. I've never played WoW, but I've been spending a good deal of my free time on the internet since the mid-90s, and I've never had anybody act like this about it who I would willingly spend more than ten minutes talking to about anything else in the world, either.

But if it was really put together by a guy who isn't living in this situation, it's no wonder. It's projecting how he *thinks* people are about things like WoW, without ever having experienced how people are about things like WoW. Any hobby can be overdone, but without ever having played, because my SO does, I am perfectly capable of understanding what it means when she says that she's frustrated because the person who was tanking for this raid is awful and they've wiped four times or whatever, and I can sympathize. I don't need to also play to say hey, that's cool, when she tells me her druid hit 85. She doesn't play so much that she ignores me, so I don't mind it at all that she plays, and I take the same kind of interest that she does in my schoolwork.

If you start resenting your family members for not taking your hobbies seriously when you don't respect what they do with their own time, then the problem is not wholly with them. I really feel for this guy's relations.
posted by gracedissolved
I love how intense these IF games can be, but this one is especially hard for me, simply because this scenario literally played out in my family, WoW and all. I'm a gamer who had previously avoided WoW, but otherwise I'm a good mix of the daughter and the husband. Our story ended a bit differently - I played, and I enjoyed it while it lasted, but it didn't fix anything. When I quit (and even while I played), everything was just as bad as before.

The thing is, this game takes a snapshot of a problem that has been developing in its characters' lives for years. And that problem has a lot to do with who the mother is, as well as her expectations and resistance to change. It's impossible not to empathize with the lonely mother. But it's almost certainly too late to fix what's been broken, and I'm afraid it's only going to get worse.

Either way, thanks for the replay. It's nice to know someone ruminates on these emotions and ideas thoroughly enough to encapsulate them in a game. Posted by: Mantus
Stephen Roberts says:

There’s something so remarkably human and empathy-generating about this game that I wonder what it is doing that other games don’t. It’s like other games are escapism and this is the very opposite, an examination of a fractured human interaction where incomplete control and identifiable characters plaster sympathy and empathy on the participant in heavy, oily blobs. The recognisability here is almost unsettling.

I don’t know if the ‘good’ ending is really a solution to what appear to be much deeper problems. And that makes it a very compelling little narrative.
Naomi Clark ‏@metasynthie
Sad games rooted in real life can be infinitely more soul-crushing than games rooted solely in escapism. To wit: http://adventure.gamism.org/gamer_mom/
anna anthropy ‏@auntiepixelante
so there's a lot of text in the source for gamer mom that makes the author out to be creepy, sociopathic and misogynist
Vaniver

Mory Buckman is eight people: the explorer, the worker, the gamer, the musician, the programmer, the thinker, the addict, and the person. (He's also not neurotypical.) It looks like a fascinating case study of Hansonian "model yourself as multiple agents and make deals between them," especially because he's been doing it for over a year, he writes quite a bit of notes, scores himself, and has regular conferences between the personalities that are posted to the blog. I haven't read enough to provide any intelligent commentary, but wanted to raise it to the attention interested in that sort of modeling.

He wrote Gamer Mom, an adventure game about convincing your family to share an experience with you, which is a design masterpiece (but also fairly depressing, so don't get too involved unless you're willing to take an emotional hit).
Apples says:

I actually thought the husband was a pretty sympathetic character. He’s busy, he has a distant teenage daughter who he can’t identify with and a wife who seems to only be interested in something that, compared to his work, looks incredibly trivial. He offers some compliments about food and responds to her talking about her day, so he’s not some evil monster. When she started crying he seemed genuinely concerned and worried, but I ballsed up it by bringing it back to WoW, and instantly realised what a complete berk she must look to him. Crying over a videogame while he’s trying to actually financially support the family.

Of course the videogame wasn’t the problem, it was the lack of cohesion as a family, but she wasn’t helping by completely failing to express that, and trying to force everyone into doing things HER way.

Are the source code comments part of the ‘act’ of the game or completely unironic? They paint a portrait of an absolutely horrible person.

edit: the daughter seemed like kind of a cock but we all were at that age, surely. I can’t blame her for thinking her mom is cripplingly lame, and actually I was on her side when she called her mom out on embarrassing herself by literally leaping up from the table in enthusiasm about WoW.
Muflax wrote:
The game itself deserves elaborate discussion, and is a true piece of genius, and if Mordechai lived anywhere near me, I’d go and play Zelda with him this instant for making something so beautiful, even though I don’t particularly like Zelda, but I won’t say much about Gamer Mom. I’m already writing a post about the movie Tangled, so I’ll address similar points soon.

But now, I’d like to comment on Mordechai himself, or rather, my past self wearing the mask of Mordechai. ... I’m deeply puzzled by this search for connection, and not just in him, but also especially in myself. It’s there, but I don’t know what it’s for. I wonder what the fuck I’m actually looking for because it sure as hell ain’t a soul-mate. The people who do think like me I ignore, don’t hook up with, don’t try to in any way deepen the relationship, in any kind of configuration whatsoever.

This here is the best-case scenario. People are connecting with the game, they're interested in me (which I thought wouldn't happen 'til I really got my act together), and when I release my next game "from that guy who made Gamer Mom" will have a little bit of weight with some people. Which means it can't be Angles & Circles or another experiment in that vein, it needs to be something people will care about. My life needs to meet a higher standard now; I can't have one great day surrounded by mediocrity when my performance reviews are actually being read by people all over the world!



2012, May 24th, 07:08 and 29 seconds

Gamer Mom

A character adventure game by Mordechai Buckman and Kyler Kelly

nine comments, the last one being from Holt
Blogger Rachel Helps said:

Is there a way to win this game? Or is it an exercise in saddness :-/?

 Mory said:

You can get them to play. It is as you say an "exercise in sadness", though, so I wouldn't advise getting too focused on winning.

Blogger Rachel Helps said:

I still haven't seen all the combinations! I did a little headliner on your game though http://killscreendaily.com/headlines/will-no-one-play-world-warcraft-gamer-mom/

Anonymous said:

pleaase release a guide?
I have the Obsessive Compulsive Syndrome and I can't sleep without finishing this. . .
please be considerate

 Mory said:

Well, if you donate you can download the original script. It's not quite a guide, but it'll tell you how to get to anything that's in the game.

Anonymous said:

Hi! I played "Gamer Mom" and I like it very much. It is very interesting when I see my mother and i can role play her in this game. My mother dont know WoW, but problems is this same.

Blogger Conzeit said:

You really need to re-read the conversation at Auntie's blog if that quote is all you can take out of it, some people there are actually genuinely concerned for you. I would like to talk to you about your view on games privately because I feel I've had that kind of inclination but the point to which you've become attached to it is not really good for you.

 Mory said:

I've reread the conversation on Auntie Pixelante's blog many times - I find it very entertaining. At first I was really angry that people could misjudge me so completely, especially after I'd been so bluntly honest, but now I'm just amused by how out of left field it all is.

I don't "respect women"? My roommate, who is a woman, has reassured me that she would strongly disagree with you. (Her wording involved a curse word, and I will not repeat it here. :) )
"Unable to practice empathy"? No, I quite enjoy listening to people and empathizing with them. Not many people will do the same with me because I am an unrepentant oddball, but I really am not that cold.
I "try to disseminate [my] favorite game like a religion"? Okay, guilty as charged. :D That shouldn't be offensive behavior, it's just a way in which I am weird. (And a way I am quite proud of, incidentally. My emotional attachment to games is what got me to start making games.)

There were a lot of comments in that thread that I wanted to reply to directly, but for some reason every time I tried to post a comment it gave me an error message. So I contacted Anna directly (This blog post has drawn my attention to her work, by the way, and I admire it a great deal.), and she told me that it's unreasonable to expect women to be perfectly honest when they've been conditioned by society to be scared of violent retaliation for honesty. It's a fair point, I accept it, and I've decided as a response to never get too attached to the idea of dating anyone. (The one awkward incident which has been discussed was my one and only dating/love experience.) The closer I get to someone, the more I'm naturally going to want for them to be like me. And that can be harmful, given that I may never meet someone who is actually like me, so I should keep my distance.

Anyway, I really do have my life under control, I don't have most of the problems that the commenters seemed to think I did, and I think my life is in a relatively healthy place right now. But I always welcome a chance to get to know somebody new, so if you'd like to talk to me about anything at all, e-mail me at Mory@TheBuckmans.com or call me on Skype (morybuckman).

Blogger Holt said:

You sir , you are a real artist ...... I didn´t finish the game (with the good ending) , but the way the comments in the source code enriched the story in a very delightful way ....... It was a journey. Cool songs too ...

Post a Comment


2012, May 11th, 14:00 and 08 seconds

1. Move2. Adjust3. Rationalize

Day 11 of living in Jerusalem, and I'm finding it hard to remember what the point of this move was. I'd been thinking about getting out of my parents' house for years, but deciding to actually do it was as impulsive as most of the big decisions in my life. I don't do things because there's sense to it, I do things because they seem like neat things to do. I try to find the sense later. And in this case, I'm not seeing it. To be clear: I'm not considering going back to Beit Shemesh. I'm going to stay here as long as I possibly can. I'd just like to find a good excuse for doing so, because right now I've got nothing.

The fact of the matter is, my life is basically the same as it was. I'm alone in the apartment for most of the day, but in my parents' house I had so little interaction with my family -and it was so usually quiet in the house- that I'm barely perceiving a difference. Sure, I can sing as loudly and as strangely as I want and I won't care about bothering anyone because I don't know or care to know the neighbors, but that's more than offset by not having a piano anymore. It's great to live in a city I love, rather than the middle of nowhere, but it's not like I'm going to be leaving the house for long most days. It's fun to be a ten-minute walk from the rehearsals, but it's a twenty minute walk to the local game night (while in Beit Shemesh it was next door).

There are only four significant things that have changed since the move. First, it is much more awkward to play videogames. There's an old TV here that Yardena was going to throw out, and when I connect my American consoles to this Israeli set they will only display in black and white. I received a helpful comment from P.A.W. right underneath this post, which told me how to switch my Wii's output to PAL and get the color back. It worked, but most of my Wii games don't actually support PAL. I will spare you the tedious details of the situation, but let's just say I can't really use my Wii the way I used to. Plus, the TV is quite broken -the only way I can even get it to turn on involves a piece of plastic placed just so with a heavy weight preventing it from escaping. I'm thinking I'll throw this TV out and get a different one. But for now, there's much awkwardness and frustration.

The second and more problematic change is that I have no working internet connection. I bought a wireless card, but as it turns out it doesn't really support Linux and now my wireless settings are so messed up from all the hours of trying to get this thing to work that I don't know if I'd be able to get any network connection set up anymore. After all of that frustration, I can sort of almost maybe connect to the internet. With enough patience, I can check my e-mail (in GMail's barebones HTML mode) and sometimes even respond. But I certainly can't download anything, or stream music, or update my blog. The only reason I'm able to upload this post here is because Yardena has been kind enough to let me use her computer.

Yardena is the third change. Everyone warned me that being a roommate isn't the same as being a friend, and that as soon as we were living together we'd be annoyed by lots of little things about each other that wouldn't otherwise have bothered us. That has not happened. Yardena and I are as close and as comfortable in our friendship as ever, and this may be a problem. I have a policy to never turn down an opportunity to socialize, even if it comes at the expense of my own activities. And now I have opportunities to socialize every single day, and for hours at a time. Whatever else I had planned gets put on hold so that we can hang out, talk about life, watch TV shows, play videogames, etc.. And I think it's really good for her to have someone to talk to regularly. She said to me at one point that she felt like I was the one part of her life that wasn't messed up. I don't need to talk to her that much because I always have my selves to keep me company, but it's nice to feel needed. Plus, I'm getting her to play videogames. How cool is that? She's like the sister I never had.

The last big difference between here and Beit Shemesh is that suddenly money means something. When I go to my data entry job, it's not primarily for the fun of it anymore. It's so that I can get to keep living here. The panic of needing to get more money quickly has not settled in yet, but I'm sure it will and I'll find a way to adapt. Hopefully a way which doesn't suck up so much of my life that between that and all the socializing there's no time for any of the things that matter.

Presumably the point of all of this is to learn to be independent. But this isn't quite the deep end of independence. My parents came to help me move, my father even assembling a computer table in the room. My mother keeps stocking me up with food, which I'm not going to say no to because it's less money I need to spend on shopping. (The only thing I've bought for myself so far is milk and cola from the minimarket across the street.) I know exactly what I'd need to do to stock up -there's a supermarket ten minutes away, a bagel store five minutes away- but I haven't needed to yet. And in the first week, my mother offered to wash all my laundry. I'm not going to have her do that again because it's a hassle to carry it all back and forth and it really isn't such a big deal to do laundry. My mother is alone in the house with her dog Fudgie now, and she wants to feel like she's doing something.

And then I've got Yardena on top of that. Before I moved in, she was talking about how she was going to try to make it really easy for me and I said to her: "I'm just going to be living there. You don't need to take care of me." She paused, considered, and replied that she'd never thought of that. She always tried to look after her previous roommates, she says. With me, that amounts to trying to give me food, which I always refuse because I don't want that kind of dynamic between us. She made some chicken last night which did smell really good, and she insisted that I should eat some but I said no. "You're taking away my motherly need to give people food!", she half-joked.

Everything is made so easy for me that there's been barely any difficulty at all in settling in. If I'm supposed to be learning some hard lessons about life that might help me later, I'm not sure what they are. Maybe it's an exercise in time management? In some ways I'm happier here, and in some ways I'm more frustrated. But for the most part, my life is pretty much what it's been for the past year. It doesn't seem like a change worth thousands of shekels a month. I could argue that it's less of an imposition on my parents, but my mother's spending so much time and money on food for me that that's barely true. I'm sparing them some electricity and water charges, I guess.

So I don't know why I'm here. But I'm going to have to figure that out, because I'm not leaving. This is home now. The day I left my parents' house, I pulled the dresser away from the door of my room. It was there to discourage people from infringing on my private space, but it's not my private space anymore. That room doesn't belong to me, it belongs to my parents. I've taken what I needed from it, and now they can do whatever they like with it. I still visit Beit Shemesh for Shabbat, because I wouldn't know how to make nice meals for myself and I'm more comfortable taking food from my parents than I am taking food from anyone here. I don't have much there. I play piano, eat with my family, hang out with friends, wait for Shabbat to end, and then return home.

I don't know why I'm here. But ask me again in a few months, and I'll have found a reason or two.


eight comments, the last one being from Daniel Meir
Blogger P.A.W. said:

Is the black and white problem caused by trying to use NTSC consoles on a PAL TV? If so, you could try using AnyRegion Changer (http://wiibrew.org/wiki/AnyRegion_Changer) to change the Wii's video mode to PAL.
For your other consoles a SCART RGB cable should work, provided that the TV has a SCART socket, the console supports RGB output, and the cable is carrying a RGB signal, not composite.

 Mory said:

Thanks, I'll try that.

 Mory said:

I used AnyRegion Changer, and it worked. Unfortunately, the majority of my Wii games do not support PAL, but a few of them (including The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) play in color now. And now that I see that the Wii can output PAL, I've taken to running my Gamecube games from Gecko to force PAL mode and all of them seem to work like that. Thank you so much.

I do think I'm going to get a different TV, though. This one causes way too many problems.

Anonymous said:

Ah moving out..
I remember discovering that living in dorms was the best time of my life. Not because I had better conditions (I didn't) but because there was something beautifully mine about the tattered mattress and bare shelves.
I felt like a real person in ways I never did before.

Anonymous said:

Re: your latest status update. well done on a productive day!

Tamir said:

It's funny, I just told someone today that Gamer Mom should be out in about a week before reading that post where you said the same.

I'm really looking forward to this! Gamer Mom being the first game you've made that (in my opinion) is widely accessible, I'm planning on spreading it to people I know. Is it weird that I'm excited about this?

Anonymous said:

Well, I decided to go through your source code after a tip from a game blog I was reading to do so. I just want to say this. Thank you for your writing and comments on your code. You have a gift to really express something beautiful, and really capture what people like myself feel in the dull world I live in.

Thank you so much.

Blogger Daniel Meir said:

Just wanted to second the post above me. Those javascript comments were the most meaningful thing I've read in months.

Post a Comment




2012, May 1st, 22:04 and 15 seconds

View the garbled remnants of April 2012Daily performance reviews for April 2012:(Rules)

Reflections on April 2012



2012, May 7th, 11:44 and 33 seconds

Yardena, part 2

I joined The Importance of Being Earnest, even though I didn't really have the time for it, because Yardena was the assistant director and I wanted to hang out with her more. That worked out very nicely - Yardena's apartment was only a twelve-minute walk away from the rehearsals, so even when she didn't come to rehearsal I would go to her house and talk for hours, only cutting it short because I was afraid I'd miss the last bus back to Beit Shemesh if I stayed any later. We talked about life and love and the play, and while Yardena talked more than I did, I was always happy to listen.

When Sura, the director of the play, said how many rehearsals there were going to be, I got worried and calculated an estimate of the money I'd be spending on transportation between my home in Beit Shemesh and the rehearsal space in Jerusalem. It amounted to over a thousand shekels. So Yardena offered to let me stay by her any time I wanted to avoid a trip. Her previous roommate had gotten married and moved out, and she didn't have a new roommate yet, so there was a nice room going unused. At first I was wary of the idea - the only reason I'd stayed over the first time (March 10th) was because Harel and Rachel were also there, and it seemed less inappropriate to sleep over at a woman's house if there was another man there too. But the endless bus rides were tedious, so I brought a change of clothes to rehearsal one evening and slept in Yardena's spare room. It was so convenient that I started staying over at Yardena's once or twice a week.

Any fears I had about the arrangement being awkward were quickly dispelled. Yardena was always really happy to host, and never treated my presence as an imposition. She was out working at her frustrating job all day, and she let me use her computer while she was out. At first I just watched the TV shows and movies she'd downloaded which I'd planned to watch at home, but eventually I did get some work done. And after a few times of staying over, I was comfortable enough with using her computer to install Braid (which I'd bought, but was unable to run on my own low-end computer) on it and start playing. Then I'd walk to the rehearsal.

While Sura was dealing with a wedding, Yardena took over the rehearsals and focused on characterization rather than staging (since Sura could veto any of the staging when returned). The atmosphere was a lot more laid back with Yardena in charge, which made for a very enjoyable social experience, though it wasn't ideal for the play. Being a group of people who generally like each other we were prone to going off on tangents, and Yardena was enjoying those tangents too much to pull us back to the scene. (When the rehearsal was moving forward, though, Yardena had a lot of good ideas.) At one small rehearsal, Josh mentioned a Game of Thrones season-premiere party he was attending that evening, and all of us -myself, Yardena, Lianne- were eager to join him. So we wrapped up the rehearsal a little bit early and had a good time at the party. Yardena wanted to leave before the Season 1 trivia competition, and I was staying over with her that evening (having another rehearsal the next day) so I left with her. We went home, chatted a bit, and then watched Mad Men together. From then on, any time I stayed over we ended the evening by watching TV together.

Yardena introduced me to Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I spent a week addicted to. I watched The Voice U.K. because an episode was sitting on her hard drive, and I wrote those silly little blog posts about it. The other priorities in my life were getting pushed down, but I didn't mind because they were such good shows. Not that quality was necessary - if I was over and the only shows she'd found to download that day were trashy, then we watched trashy shows. It's not like I had anything else to do there without a computer. (I hadn't been carrying my Nintendo DS much since the stylus had fallen apart, simply because it was mildly inconvenient.) I enjoyed the company.

I knew it couldn't last - it was a nice apartment right in the heart of the city, and even though Yardena kept putting off the search for a new roommate (due to a general lack of energy at this point in her life) I knew it would not be long until the empty room was taken. I asked her how much rent would cost, I knew I couldn't afford it for more than a month or two, and that was that.

We had a few bitter arguments, over these few weeks. They were my fault, of course -a result of my stubborn policy of always treating friends the way I would wish for them to treat me. If someone pointed out a problem in my life, I'd turn the idea over and over until I found a counter-argument or -failing that- agree with them. If the problem were raised in a reasonable manner, and not just used as a petty insult, I'd always appreciate the honest criticism. Yardena is more sensitive and has very low self-esteem, but I do not significantly alter my behavior for her. So I would mention problems in her life, and she would get hurt. I would then apologize profusely, ask what I could do to make it up, etc. -because I would hate to lose such a good friend. She would write a few letters, I'd write a few letters, we'd talk out the problem and come out of it with a stronger friendship.

What makes it work is that we're not pretending anything. I have been perfectly upfront about all my strange attitudes and behaviors, and she has been really open about everything that bothers her. We know that we can say anything to each other, without being dismissed as crazy.

One Shabbat at the typically-dreary dinner table, my father was prodding me to move out of the house. "Okay.", I said. This surprised him, of course -the teaser doesn't expect the tease-ee to actually do anything. But I knew I wasn't going to get another opportunity this good. After Shabbat I called Yardena and asked if the room was still available, she said yes, and here I am. It's very different, living with someone I like. It might not be good for my productivity to be this happy.

2012, May 1st, 1:37 and 58 seconds

The Cat's Away

Let's take a moment to recap the blog so far. At first I was a useless lump. Then I tried to force myself to get things done. This led to my first two games, but also much depression. Inventing a new personality for myself meant fighting the existing one, and that personality fought back. In the end there was a messy fight between versions 1.0 and 2.0 of me, and I decided that from then on I would be the type of person whose goals and nature were united. And if I wasn't that type of person, I'd fake it 'til it became true. (Why didn't I just let the "adult" version of me win, you ask? Because I don't believe he has it in him to hold on to childish dreams in the face of reality.) Then I had a profound experience in amateur theater, where I changed my personality and had one of the most meaningful months of my life because of it. I decided that the perfect version of me that I wanted to aspire to was actually lots of different personalities, which I'd switch between to achieve a kind of superhuman versatility.

But in most situations, versatility is not an obvious or easy choice. In almost every context, just getting the work done without asking questions is a perfectly effective approach. I call that side of me "The Worker", and we have been leaning on him more than anyone else. For the past few months the Worker has been taking more and more of our time and focus, because it seems like there's too much to deal with at any point and the Worker is so calm and confident and is always willing to bear the load. But we've been suffering for it. As we finish up Gamer Mom, we have absolutely no idea what we'll be doing next. Earlier that would have been unthinkable - there would be plans and dreams and excitement and the next thing would always be even more awesome than whatever it was we were doing. But we don't know what the next thing is, because in all the running around we haven't stopped to generate any interest in the future. The Musician and the Gamer, previously sources of inspiration, have been marginalized over the past few months because they just don't fit into the Worker's deadlines. The Thinker, ostensibly the leader of the group, allowed himself to become irrelevant by taking away the ambiguity from our collective identity. He hasn't had any meaningful thoughts in months. Our music has come to a standstill. Our gaming has become infrequent. Few ideas are occurring to us in any context. A decade ago I liked to say that I shouldn't grow up because adults are dead inside. Who knew?- I was right!

To the Thinker's credit, when the Worker demanded all of March, the Thinker offered him only half, and required the concession that the Worker would only be allowed on one or two days of April. We could not let the Worker control our future. The Worker, being an agreeable person, agreed. He did what he could in March (which was a lot), and then he left.

There were no real characters played after that. In the first week, I watched the entire series of Avatar: The Last Airbender. I also watched a dozen other shows, and when I wasn't watching I was waiting for more shows to become available. You see, the Worker was always Mory 2.0. And when he's gone, I'm just a useless lump again. It would be easy, and maybe even obvious, to say that this entire multiple-personality system is a sham, and that everything on this blog after March 2010 is an increasingly flimsy attempt to deny Mory 2.0 the unambiguous victory he deserves.

But I've been dreaming again. Not to the extent that I used to, I'll admit. But I've come up with some radical ideas for revamping the blog, which are so awesome in concept that chances are we're just going to ignore them until they go away. And I came up with a crazy idea for turning one of my Five Games into a potentially massive phenomenon with young girls without sacrificing one iota of artistic integrity. I used to come up with outlandish ideas for reinventing my other ideas every day, and somewhere along the way I just got comfortable with where my mind was sitting. That's the point where ideas die, sapped of all momentum and emotional investment.

Here I am, in a room in Jerusalem that is now mine, writing words that are flowing freely out of my fingers like they've been dying to come out all this time, even managing to work in a self-reference like the good old days without it being purely gimmicky, and I am here simply because I'm not working. There was no blog post at the end of March because there was no time in the schedule for it. Projects needed to be continued, deadlines needed to be met, perfection needed to be pursued. If the Worker had any say at all right now, I would be unpacking my things instead of following the Rules and being addicted to the creation of this delightful little post. If the Worker had had any presence at all in April, I would have responded to the idea of moving out with dismissal ("Eventually, when it works into my plans.") rather than saying "Okay.".

We've gotten too comfortable, fellas. And the blog, as always, puts us back on track. I am not the Worker. And I am proud of that.





Back

After writing "The Cat's Away", the Addict started a conference looking for some drama.
(character list)

The blog is essential. I hope you all see that now.

I do.

Excuse me? Is there something I'm missing?

Yes. Reflecting tells us where we're going, what's wrong. You, for instance.

Excuse me?

You just say the same thing over and over again. This is exactly what I'm talking about.

Let's please not do this.

I don't understand.

You wouldn't.

If you have something to say to me, say it.

Okay, I think I will. There has been no real progress on the blog in months, and it's your fault.

Mine?

Yes. You are just like Shoshana. You drag us all down with you. We repress ourselves to the point where we have nothing to offer, all because you are so certain of what it is that you know.

I think the Worker's certainty in his orders is extremely beneficial...

Ouch.

I have no idea what you are talking about. Have I done something?!

No, I have. I gave you too much power.

No more than you gave the Programmer in this past month. Not my fault he didn't deal with it properly.

I don't like ordering people around.

I was telling you how to be efficient!

Worker...

No, you listen to me. I have been the only one of this group to do anything at all. I have been pushing forward while all the rest of you wait for me to do the work. I got things done because no one else would step up and get them done. I was the only one who you knew would be reliable. And then you gang up on me, when all I did was what all of you should have been doing and what you were relying on me to do! How many times did all of you promise to do things and not do them? Well, I set goals and deadlines and for the most part I met them. I'm not perfect. I'm not good enough. But I am trying, and that's a damn sight more than any of you!

Worker, calm down. You still have a place in the group.

Damn your place in the group! None of you have ever respected me and what I bring to the table.

You were the only one who was ever respected. You "got things done", as you say. The rest of us are just ourselves.

What have I ever done to deserve this kind of treatment? Are you going to force me out of the group?

Or I suppose I should say "force me out of existence". That's what this is, let's not beat around the bush.

No. We are going to rely on you, but you are one of eight. You will not have preferential treatment. And in this month, I think we should resolve to find how we can manage without necessarily expecting you to do all the heavy lifting.

Man, go easy on him. Look, I'm sorry, Worker. You're right, this is all ridiculous.

Oh my god, you really are going to get rid of me.

No one's getting rid of you.

Are you hearing any of this?!

Do I even get a say in all this?

I am enjoying this.

I think there's a misunderstanding here. All we're talking about is shifting priorities around a bit.

It really isn't. The Worker gave us everything he had, and you're all acting like he's some kind of criminal.

Don't exaggerate. There was no hostility intended.

Oh no, go on. The hostility was good. Time it goes the other way for once.

What is your problem?

When's the last time I had a day? And recently I explained to the Thinker why according to the Rules I should get a day, and how I'd make more of it than anyone else, and he agreed and then proceeded to not give me the day. But you? You always get the day, even when your heart's not in it. What makes you so special?

I did nothing wrong.

And maybe if something makes me "special", it's that I don't sit around doing nothing all day.

Or I try not to, at least. Can't say I always pull it off.

I have some sense of a goal.

I always have some goal in mind. Always. Maybe it's the end of a level, maybe it's a high score, maybe it's saving the world. There's always something.

What? This is an okay attitude, but when I try to live in the real world suddenly I'm the crazy person?!

You are living in fiction. You run around in circles and pretend you're going places. When things are actually happening and require attention, I'm going to give that attention.

So could the Explorer, or the Addict, or the Programmer, or even the Musician possibly.

The musician?!

Why not? Maybe I wouldn't be so literal, maybe I would bring a more abstract touch to whatever it is that I'd be called on for.

What... does that even mean?

Yes, what does it mean, Musician?

Well, I for one look forward to finding out.

This is ridiculous. What, is he going to sing at problems?

Maybe I will. It might be effective.

The terrible thing is, I can't tell if you're serious. That's how crazy you all are, all the time.

You are not better than us. This sense of superiority you have is exactly why it's so nice to see you not being worshipped for a change.

I have never been given anything more than I earned through honest work.

I'm bored. Is anyone else here bored? I think we have a nice, long blog post and let's call it a day. Worker, love you.

I have no idea what is wrong with you people.

Then maybe we should try to explain ourselves better.

No! Gah. It's always talking with you. Enough talking! The talking just forces me to deal with all your annoying personalities. I don't want to talk, I just want to be allowed to show you that I am capable and reliable and I would like it if my work could be appreciated instead of spit on. That's all.

Oh, blog, how I've missed you. These are the glory days, after all.

And this is the sort of annoying talking I am referring to. Leave me alone, all of you.


This is where I'll put any posts related to the TV show "The Voice".
It's not one of my favorite shows, but it's a curious little thing and I enjoy talking about it.

Click a link on the left to read a post.

2012, April 1st, 02:56 and 55 seconds

View the Worker's month: March 2012Daily performance reviews for March 2012:(Rules)
I don't have time now to reflect on what happened this month. Maybe it was good, maybe it was bad; either way I'm stuck with the consequences. April will be interesting, and it's starting now whether I'm ready for it or not.

2012, March 16th, 0:27 and 19 seconds

The Dialogues

The Rules

As a way to make the most of the various facets of my personality, I have a system by which I daily choose one of eight characters to play, each one being some positive aspect of myself. We continually add new rules to this system, but we recognize that rules are not enough. Our personalities must be regularly sharpened through conversation between ourselves, to remind us of the differences between our world views and the particular skills that each of us brings to the table.

Character list (for reference)


Click a date to read the Dialogue.
  1. 2012, March 15th, 17:24 and 58 seconds
    Conclusion: To stay in character, actively reframe all activities to fit.


2012, April 10th

I want to be in a relationship with someone who will play our multiple-personality game with us. Not the same characters, of course, unless some of the characters suit her personality as well (and it would be awesome if some of them did), but a similar cast of characters modeled after her personality.

What would you get from this theoretical person which you don't get from us?

Multiplayer. It's really important.

When you're playing a solitaire game you can always quit in the middle, or cheat, or just not take the experience very seriously.

That's a problem. You should be taking these days as seriously as if we were all there in the room with you. That's what these dialogues are for.

That is what they're for, right?

Yes.

Fictional characters can't stand in for other people. They just can't.

I guess it boils down to the human brain not being capable of truly multitasking.

We can't really be all these people at once, so we take turns. And if we take turns, then we're not in the room with you.

If we came to this conference room more often, and respected it a little bit more, we'd be in better shape.

Sure, I'm sure, but you get more with other people. You get that objective voice which speaks up when you're not doing the best you could be doing.

I don't see any way we could simulate that without another person, as you say. The timing is important, that the message should come when there's a problem and not at some predetermined or arbitrary point.

It's not so much a message, more a sort of shared energy that keeps bouncing off one person and the other and keeps building and feeding on itself.

Oh my god, if there was someone else I could be myself with, and she were also an Explorer at the same time, can you imagine the sorts of adventures we'd have?

I've always wanted a band.

Two people can be enough of a band.

No it can't.

I think it actually could be. I just want the sense that I'm part of a group and we all exist just to make music as long as we're together.

Look, why can't we just have different people playing these different parts? We don't need one person who has everything, we could have musician friends and worker friends and explorer friends and gamer friends.

Not doable with the way the system is set up. We always switch to the Person when there are other people. It's always about interaction, or doing whatever they want to do. It's not about any particular personality.

That's just the way the system is now. We're redoing the system anyway, aren't we?

Maybe.

But there's a reason for the way the system is now. It's more honest. I don't want to be like my late grandmother, where all social interaction is actually some mind game designed to get something.

Honesty is overrated.

It absolutely is not. Honesty tells everyone where they stand, prevents misunderstandings and hurt feelings, and creates an open environment where any problems can be found and dealt with.

Let me rephrase, then: complete honesty is overrated.

Again, absolutely not. People who know me know that they can trust everything that I say, because I always say what I'm thinking.

Two points. First, few people trust us because we're so weird. The same way we can't 100% trust someone who doesn't think like us, most people aren't going to trust people who think like me.

The barrage of honest sentiments isn't helping, it's just letting people more clearly see the qualities that make them distrust us.

Well, I'd rather get all that mistrust out there at the start, then, and know exactly where I stand.

So you want knowledge, and think that's better than trust or forming relationships.

Whether we trust people matters.

Whatever. The other problem with what you said is that we don't say everything we're thinking. Only with Shoshana on that one date did we ever say absolutely everything, and that proved to be a horrific mistake.

I don't think it was. I think she reacted to it dishonestly and that messed us up for a while, but we didn't do anything wrong that day.

Fine, but we don't normally act like that.

The only thing we cover up is attraction. I don't want you going around telling everyone you're attracted to that you're attracted to them, because that would be interpreted as flirting rather than a statement of fact. At present there is no one we're interested in dating, so bringing up sexual interest would lead to misunderstandings. That is all. It's not like the attraction is such a key ingredient in our interactions, anyway.

Yes it is.

We'd more or less be acting the same way with everyone without the attraction.

Even if that's the case, it certainly is something these people might want to know to create that open and honest environment you were talking about, and we hold back. So the idea of holding back truths is not unfamiliar to us. Is it radically damaging our integrity that we don't say 100% of everything?

Perhaps. I hope not.

The question was rhetorical. We're fine.

If there were a person we could be ourselves with, it would be a bit stressful all the time because there would be so much pressure not to break character ever. (I'm assuming here that we would never be separated ever, which seems like a sensible idea.)

I don't think you're one to talk about sensible ideas.

Heh. Maybe not. But then we could release all that stress as the Person, and just have sex or whatever.

You have a sick mind. Can we please keep the blog a bit cleaner than that?

Sex, sex, sex, sex.

He's not sick, he's just a child.

I find the subject distasteful, in any event.

We don't need one person. We need many people. You're expecting something that no person we're ever going to meet could possibly keep up with.

I think what we're expecting is a clone of me.

Yes! Some daaaaay my self will come... some daaaay we'll meeeeet again...

[sigh]

But if my self-clone has a vagina, that's even better.

I'm going to leave now.

Thinker, back me up here. This person does not exist.

I'd like to think she does.

That liking is well documented. But in the real world, we're never going to find such a person.

Already we have the expectation of Jewish, English-speaking, Asperger, non-repressed, female; and now you're adding on top of that that you want someone who'd be willing to split her personality with me, and never leave my side for a minute.

Who would be the one earning money in this relationship, by the way?

We could play music together.

Fat chance. You'd just sit around messing around on your instruments, and you'd be satisfied with that.

All I need in life is myself and my self-clone.

So now she doesn't need to just be Jewish, English-speaking, Asperger, non-repressed, female, split personality, and not have any other life, she also needs to be a musician. Brilliant.

Orrrrr we could just admit that this person doesn't exist, or that if she does exist there's no way we'll ever meet her because the statistics are not in our favor, and we can be okay with the idea that not everything in the world needs to come from one person.

Part of the problem with Shoshana is that because we thought we'd get everything we needed from this one repressed person, we started repressing ourselves to make that idea more plausible.

The brain rewires itself, unnoticed...

The brain is always rewiring itself. The people you hang out with are the people you try to fit in with. And that means changing yourself on a subconscious level.

Our brain was rewiring itself in our sleep.

Yes, in retrospect that is what was happening with Shoshana. And it's a scary thought. But the Person is right, we're never going to find a person that we wouldn't need to limit ourselves for.

The Rules are too ambitious for that. This version of ourselves that we're constructing together is complex in the gamistic sense of the word, and who would be able to keep up with that?

So maybe we should take the Person seriously when he says that this one person we're looking for is actually many people.

And that means we should not lump all social interactions into one group, but actually be different personalities when interacting with different people.

Fine by me.

Yes, I know, all of you are fine with it. I wish someone would give the counterpoint, in favor of honesty.

Nope. No one cares about honesty but you.

Can we keep up a persona while making it clear that it's just a persona?

Not if we want them to treat us like the persona's real. It's better if those people don't know. Or even if they know, it's better if we don't emphasize it. They'll get used to the persona and just think of us as that one thing. We can limit ourselves differently depending on who we're interacting with.

And how can we possibly know which character is needed for interacting with which person?

Because everyone else in the world has a persona too, and it's generally not so hard to figure out which persona they're using.

I'll start the interaction, to see which character they're playing, and then I'll switch to whichever character I feel is the closest.

We'll need a more complicated system of character switching, though.

What - so we're always just mimicking the people around us? That's an awful idea! We need to bring diversity to the world, and that comes of being the opposite of the people we're around!

What are you talking about? Just before you were saying how you'd like to have the same "energy" as other people.

Sometimes, sure! But not all the time! Sometimes it'll be fun to bounce an Explorer off a Worker, or a Thinker off a Musician, or something like that.

"Infinite diversity in infinite combinations".

I'm not sure the Vulcans would approve of our system. :)

Then the Vulcans are lame.

Besides, they never really held that philosophy. We do a better job.

Geeks.

I don't think it's an option to start experimenting with social interactions. Every action we make with another person either helps build that relationship, or undermines it. There are always consequences.

If the other person senses that they're not getting what they expected out of a relationship with me, and this is true with any kind of relationship, they'll stop spending time with me.

That's why it needs to be one person who loves me no matter what.

We are not going to find that person.

Is there some other way I can say that, which will make it sink in? It is not going to happen.

Do you agree that having the one person that the Explorer describes would be the ideal?

...yes.

Then let's figure out what that ideal would look like, and then see how much of that vision we can achieve with people we know, how much we can achieve by meeting new people who are not unlikely for us to find, and how much we can achieve on our own.

Close

2012, July 5th

An excuse I've pulled out now and then for the Rules is that no one character is capable of doing everything we have planned. This argument can be shot down fairly simply. Without the Rules, we created Smilie, The Perfect Color and The March of Bulk - all very different kinds of experiences, created in different kinds of processes. So the argument that multiple personalities are needed for the Five Games is very flimsy. A counter-argument could be made, that since the Rules we've let Angles & Circles die out and haven't come up with as many new ideas for games, and that this might be indicative of a greater difficulty with being creative while so much energy is being devoted to the characters.

The question then needs to be asked: why are we doing this?

Finally someone says it.

Thinker, this was basically your idea. No one is more qualified than you to say why we're doing this

My original reasoning is laid out in the post I Am.... In short: when I get comfortable with a certain way of doing things, I will stop questioning my own behavior and will just follow that narrow road as far as it goes. The more focused I get on a particular way of life, the less I will be able to reflect on that path's failings. Therefore, I should be willing to change my personality regularly.

The eight characters are to make it easier to switch characters. If I needed to invent an entirely new character each time, it would seem like too much work and I would revert to the useless 1.0 version of myself. If I only need to switch to something which I know well and have built up a familiarity for, it will take less effort. That is the thought, anyway. In practice, this doesn't seem to work.

The problem is we don't have any sensory connection to the different characters. As far as it seems, all days are the same. So we act the same. We need different surroundings to have different attitudes.

We've already been over this, in Dialogue 1. A small pad, to be written into continuously, strengthening the sense of character. If none of you do this, that's not due to an oversight in the system.

Maybe each of us should have different pads! You could have a graph paper pad, I would have a blank one, the Thinker would have one with bigger lines, this little one could be for the Person, the Worker could have some sort of schedule-y thing, the Musician would have a music notepad, and the Gamer and Addict would probably be too busy to write anything down.

That way each of us has a pad that gives us a sense of being ourselves, plus we see everything we've done in previous days and have to live up to that.

That sounds brilliant. Programmer, is it realistic?

Maybe. It's worth a shot, certainly.

But are we accepting the argument, then, that the Rules exist to fight rigidity?

If that's the case, they're doing a pretty bad job of it.

Well, we haven't been following the Rules, have we?

But we've never managed to follow the Rules for more than a few months at a time.

It might just not be feasible.

And if that's the case, what would we lose by throwing out the Rules entirely?

We can go back to the one-character system from before December 2010, or even stop with the Performance Reviews entirely.

The value of the Rules can be very clearly seen, now that I think about it, in April 2012. We had gotten very comfortable with the Worker being in charge, we were content to just keep going with that, and then we broke out of it and had a paradigm shift that led to moving out of our parents' house and radically improving our life.

This is what you call a "radical improvement"? There's barely any music in our life at all anymore.

The Thinker has not been doing a good job of leading. He let the Addict take over yesterday, for instance, when he knew it wasn't a good idea.

My point is that our life is going in interesting directions, rather than staying fixed and miserable.

That's all on the Rules.

I should point out that the event in question -deciding to move to Jerusalem- was done on a Shabbat, while not in character.

But our thinking even then is shaped by the rest of the week.

Maybe the problem with the system is that we're switching too often. Maybe we should stick with a character until either they have a successful day or give up, and we should try to encourage them to push through and not give up.

Maybe we should repeal the Rule about needing a 7/10 day to be allowed to continue.

We have certainly seen that repeating a character over many days improves the quality and clarity of that character.

It also makes it hard to break out, though.

Is it ever hard to play the Gamer?

No.

Then we should switch to the Gamer after a long period of doing anything.

Why the Gamer?

Yes, why the Gamer?

Why not actually try to be productive, after wasting too much time?

Because it's an easy character to get back into. It's just a way of clearing out our headspace. I haven't checked the records, but I think the Gamer is the most consistently performing character we have.

If that's true, there's something wrong with the system.

It was just a thought that it could be the Gamer.

But more importantly, if we repeal the 7/10 rule, the difficulty of switching out of a long-running character won't be as much of an issue.

Perhaps not.

Here's the explanation you gave in the August 2011 self-meeting for the rule you're trying to get rid of now:
If the day's going badly enough to score under 7/10, there's some essential problem with the approach that's not going to be fixed by just carrying it on longer. We keep hearing the excuse "The day isn't good yet!", followed by the day getting even worse. This will stop that.

What's changed?

Hm. I'd forgotten that that was what happened before we had the rule. Certainly I'm not going to push for going back to a system that wasn't working. But by the same token, I can't condone keeping it like this.

It's not necessary to repeal the 7/10 rule; we can remove the repetition rule instead. But what goes in its place? The point of the rule was to prevent getting stuck in bad ways of being. But sometimes a single day isn't enough to show a path's invalidity. So we can change the rule to only relate to cases where there have already been several failures. Or we could remove it entirely - what if we come across some really difficult but necessary transition, and we just need to keep trying until it works? Such matters should be decided in Dialogues, not Rules.

I will remind you that August 2011 was before we had this conference room. Of course we got stuck in patterns; there was no regular oversight. Now there is, and the rule can be safely removed.

Well, I'm not sure we can call it "safe", given that we don't really know the outcome of any of these rule changes we make. But I hope you're right.

If not, we put it back and try something else. This is one of the most wonderful things about the Rules: the bureaucratization of life.

That sounds awful.

Don't knock bureaucracy: an effective bureaucracy is absolutely essential in any large-scale project. And life is a rather large-scale project, wouldn't you say?

No, I think it's pretty small scale. However we dress it up, we're one person.

I agree with the Thinker that Life is a complicated thing. But to reduce something so beautiful to such a cold system is a bit of a shame.

Then again, I suppose I can explore the system to my heart's content. You're not going to penalize me for looking for loopholes, are you? It's how I do things.

I'll only penalize you if you actually do things that harm us. If you're just learning the system, in your own way, and it's clear that that's your motivation, I don't know how I could possibly object to that. It does suit your character, after all.

Thinker, please don't give the Explorer ideas. He finds loopholes, tells everyone else, our job gets harder.

So you'll patch up the problems. I have the utmost faith in you.

This is not an efficient way to run a life.

Kind of awesome, though.

The initial subject of this discussion is the eleventh of March, 2012. It is my hope that studying the events of this day will lead us to many fruitful topics, but we will start with the literal. Worker, would you like to describe what happened?

Not particularly, no. I prefer doing things to talking about them.

Very well. I will begin the story myself by noting that this month was intended as "The Worker's month", in that there are a lot of things that need to get done and in past months the Worker has always been the model of discipline and productivity. I hesitated in the monthly self-meeting to allow him such a prominent position, given that the character of the Worker has been a fixture of the past few months at the expense of other worthy characters such as the Gamer and the Musician. But I was persuaded by the sheer number of things that need doing -our adventure game Gamer Mom (with Kyler Kelly), two plays, a Megillah reading, assorted writing and website work- to offer the Worker every other day of the month, which is a position of great authority though not complete focus. I further stipulated that should the Worker accept this role for the month of March, April would belong to the other characters; it was and is my goal to keep all the aspects of my personality in play in the long-term. The Worker accepted.

I've been making a mess of it, I know. There is so much to do and the month's half over and I've done almost nothing. And then next month it's too late. You know what I need? I need to set deadlines. I don't know why I haven't set deadlines already.

That is a very good idea, and I think we should certainly do that tomorrow morning before you start your next day. For now, I'd like to focus on yesterday, and if there are other tangents that we find along the way, we will certainly follow them. Though, I don't think the matter of deadlines is necessarily important enough to be put on the blog.

If it's on the blog, it's set in stone.

True, true. Okay, we'll have a conversation about the deadlines and connect it here.

To get back to the story: the Worker was making some slight incremental progress on Gamer Mom, when the planned direction of the month was interrupted by a social opportunity. Person, would you like to elaborate on the events of 08-10 March?

Sure, why not.

The eighth was Purim. I woke up early, read the Megillah, which was a little bit worse than usual due to a sore throat but in terms of storytelling it was fine, I took a nap, and then the rest of the day I spent hanging out with Moshe. The next morning I woke up early and joined Harel and Rachel, and the three of us drove to Yardena's apartment in Jerusalem (where they were holding Shushan Purim), where I stayed for the following two days. For that entire time, I was almost never not socializing. It was utterly fantastic. It was like the little bits of hanging out that I'm allowed to do on ordinary Shabbats, but without all the boring non-social stuff surrounding it and without having to ever stop.

You know, when I suggested we do The Dialogues, I didn't mean for it to be like an interrogation. Lighten up, guys.

What are you suggesting?

I'm suggesting you pull the stick out of your butt.

What are you suggesting, specifically?

I give up.

No, tell me what you'd like from this post.

I'd like more drama, and less courtroom procedure.

I'm getting to it. I think we can sum up the relevance of Friday and Shabbat on the events of Sunday (the 11th) by saying that the weekend felt like a major shake-up from our life. And of course when we got back both the Worker and myself were eager to resume the plan for the month, because three days is a major interruption.

The Worker started out well, but he started to get tired already an hour into the Gamer Mom work, and since the work needs to be done from Firefox, there was no barrier between the Worker and distractions.

I think it's worth pointing out how this usually works.

There are some limits in place on how the computer can be used, so that it is easy to lock ourselves out of specific activities. It is not that these locks can't be bypassed - it's that in the few seconds that it takes to bypass the locks we tend to rethink what we're doing and decide to leave the barriers in place. The trouble is, once Firefox has been opened there are no more limits to what can be done on the internet, because anything can be done from a web browser.

We may need an extension that prevents certain web sites from being opened.

We would only want that extension (if such an extension exists) on the copy of Firefox we work on Gamer Mom from. Currently that copy is connected to the buggy Ubuntu release which we use for everything else - it's a separate program file, but it uses the same extensions. So we may want to switch to the portable version of Firefox, if there still is one these days. We haven't used a portable Firefox since version 5.

I'm not entirely sure that will do the trick, though - it may still share the default extensions. We'll have to see.

Sounds like a plan. Anyway, the Worker spent the entirety of the day watching videos: mainly the Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged Series that Shoshana introduced us to.

Shoshana has good taste.

I expect part of the reason for this interruption of the Worker's usual patterns was the lingering feelings from Friday which had not been dealt with.

It doesn't help to bottle feelings up. You need to let them out.

But not in the middle of a schedule! A worker is supposed to be repressed!

I messed up, plain and simple.

Yes, you did. Are there some kind of repression exercises we could come up with for the Worker?

Interesting challenge.

Perhaps a program with some very simple task, like typing whichever letter appears on the screen.

The question I have is whether it should be increasing in difficulty, decreasing in difficulty, unchanging in difficulty, or entirely random.

The idea is to distract the Worker from whatever the rest of us are doing, right?

Yes. So there would be some sort of scoring system based on reaction times.

The more distracted the Worker is, the lower his reaction time. I'm leaning toward a decreasing difficulty level, since we're trying to maintain the focus through tasks which may or may not be complicated to carry out. This of course should not replace the playing of music during work, which helps repress the creative mind in any event.

If we're talking about making programs to get into character, should we be doing that for all characters?

It could possibly be connected to the conference room program.

What, it's not enough of a burden to have to get the Thinker sign off on a day? I need to play a game too? Shouldn't I just be getting to work?

Not if you're not in the right mindset. You clearly were not in the right mindset yesterday.

The Musician's first activity could be to write some little witty saying that we haven't said before. Just to get in a mindset where he's looking for originality.

I'd rather avoid the words and just get to the piano.

We really don't have time this month for any of this.

It's still worth discussing, for future months.

We need to figure out what went wrong yesterday, and how to avoid it in the future.

I messed up. I'm only human. I'll try to do better.

That's not really going to help. You feel what you feel.

I'll avoid feeling, then.

Right. Sure.

I am a machine.

The sentiment is admirable, but it is not backed up by your actions.

My sleep schedule had been interrupted a few times. I was still recovering.

I'm not comfortable with the idea that some tiny little change to our sleep schedule will make you utterly useless and unreliable. That is not a situation I am willing to accept.

I should have taken a nap in the middle of the day. I used to do that, but nowadays I avoid it because there's just so much to do.

There's something to that, but I don't think that explains why you didn't at least make an effort.

At the point where I saw the TV was going to exceed the work, I didn't see the point in trying anymore because the Rules say it's a zero-point day automatically at that point.

The Rules also say that I can give you a point for effort. 1/10 is better than 0/10.

Not really.

If I may step in here, I think there's a problem with the sharp transition between reality and virtuality. After spending all that time with real people, it might be difficult to see imaginary people as equals.

So you admit they're not equals!

No, virtual experiences are every bit as real as physical experiences. But there's a shift there that needs to be made. If my hunch is right, it really didn't matter which character took the lead on Sunday. It could have been the Worker, or the Explorer, or the Programmer, and the end result would always have been a zero-point day because we didn't make the clear shift from physical to virtual that's necessary for this whole multiple-personality game to work.

So what you're saying is that this "shift" as you call it takes place whenever we spend too much time in one place?

Exactly.

So it could just as easily be a problem the other way around, not being able to deal with real people after talking to ourselves for too long.

Absolutely.

Gamer, I have to ask: is this all just a lead-in to a pitch for you to have more days?

Certainly.

How shocking.

I'm just talking about a rule saying that if we go for longer than, say, 48 hours without talking to ourselves, you should let me take charge and get us back in a fictional mindset.

I could do that too!

Or you could just waste time like the Worker did. Passivity is not what we're looking for. You'd just watch movies all day.

I might not!

But you might.

Well, sure, movies are awesome.

Gamer, you already have a silly Rule that says you get a day if we haven't played games in a while. How many different Rules do you want that say you get a day?

This is an extension of the same idea. If we get too trapped in one world, everything falls apart. We get pulled along in the currents of one emotion or another, following the path of least resistance, and the end result is the most reliable of us producing a zero-point day.

I'm not talking about a full fourteen-hours deal. Just six or seven hours of playing Zelda and whatever else, and then I yield to whoever is next. And then, since we're already in the mindset of fictional situations, any character we choose will have more weight.

It's an interesting concept. Programmer, what do you think?

I think 48 hours is not very long. After every two-day holiday, we immediately follow with the Gamer? What if there are things that need to be done, because we've just lost two days?

I'm looking through two-day holidays in the past few months, to see if there's a problem in the days after.

01-02 October 2011 was right after a long holiday, and the Worker watched TV all day.

Actually, that's the only one I can find. Two-day holidays aren't so common.

There might be a simpler solution than giving the Gamer a day automatically. Right now we're locked out of using the computer until we have a conversation between ourselves for five minutes.

What if we change that to a variable length, based on how long it's been since we were last on the computer?

That assumes that every in-character day will be spent on the computer.

Usually it is.

You know what, we could even give you the control. When we enter the conference room, we ask how long it's been since we were in a comfortable rhythm, or something like that.

There's no guarantee that I'll be the one writing that in. I think the Person would likely just say "zero" and get straight into the computer.

Aaaw, you don't trust us?

No.

Not remotely.

I still think my idea is better.

You would.

I think it's worth checking whether the characters who follow the Gamer tend to do well.

If the Gamer is right about being so helpful to the integrity of the characters, then we should find that pattern.

No, I don't see it. Look at 21-23 November 2011.

Right after a solid Gamer, we have three days in a row with no character declared, and nothing of value done.

And the two days before me were zero-pointers, too. This was the month with your disastrous "Panic Mode" experiment, it's not on me. And anyway, I'm not claiming that whoever follows me will necessarily do well. I'm just saying that from either an extended Person or an extended break in the game, you need me to get us back into fantasy land.

You'd have the same thing in the other direction, where an extended day from me would need to be followed by the Person.

And it's not so different from what you already said to the Worker, that if he gets half the days this month he doesn't get a presence next month.

It's not entirely convincing, but next time we have a "shake-up" of some sort I'll keep in mind that I need to overcompensate in the other direction before getting back to normal.

There's still the other problem, that I gave the Worker this month and he's been acting un-Worker-like.

It might be a problem with giving assurances, in general.

If I can't give assurances, then what can I negotiate with?

I just mean that if you think you're getting the days no matter what, there's less pressure.

Lovely. If I can't give assurances, then what can I negotiate with?

It's just that I didn't have deadlines. That's all. I didn't think of it.

I don't know why we're doing this whole song and dance. I messed up, I've apologized, I'll do better. Not everything needs to be analyzed to death.

Hrmph. Without analysis, there's no progress.

With overanalysis there's no progress. There can be plenty of progress without thinking too much.

Close

At the end of every week, I want to be comfortable and off-book with whichever Importance of Being Earnest scenes I've learned.

By this Monday, we'll have two new blog posts up, including this one.

By next Thursday, I will have started on the shul website. By the following week (29) I will have a basic framework I can use.

Gamer Mom is the most important thing. Why are you forgetting about Gamer Mom?

I haven't forgotten about anything, I'm just getting the simple things out of the way first.

I'll find some date this month to work with Coren on Dungeon Master, making slight changes to episode 1 and starting to write episode 10.

Now - Gamer Mom.

My next node is 451. I want to get all the way to the end by the end of this month.

That's a hundred nodes, in roughly 16 days, only half of which are mine.

You're going to need to let me have a day or two to manage that.

Probably, yeah.

But ultimately it's the Thinker's call.

Hey, it's your month. If you feel the Addict is needed, the Addict will get his days.

I appreciate that.

By this Shabbat, I want to be finished (not counting art) with node 480. By Monday morning, node 494. By the 20th, node 508. By that Shabbat, 525. By the 26th, 540. By the 28th, 555. And by the 30th, 559.

That is not evenly distributed.

So?

Never mind.

In addition to all those deadlines, I have to work with Kyler at every possible opportunity. I can't set deadlines for that because I don't know when he's available, but the art will progress on a separate track and I hope to have most of it done this month.

That's the month.

I really should have done this from the start.

Close

This past weekend was a really unique experience in my life. First off, obviously I rarely sleep away from home. The last time I've slept somewhere that wasn't either home or in the same place as the rest of my family (direct or extended) was... um...

Sleepovers in elementary school?

You know, I really think I'd have to go back that far, yes. Probably the last time I slept away from my family and/or my family's house was when I was 8 or 9. Oh, no, there was that horrible trip with my 12th grade class. That's true. And there were a few nights that I stayed in the dorms in the Yeshiva in ninth and tenth grade. So really it's only been seven years. Still. Not something I tend to do.

Because it always sucked!

It always did.

In elementary school I'd be friends with one or two people there, and I'd be really scared of everyone else and worried that if I fell asleep there'd be some prank played on me because I irritated everyone. Not that that ever happened to me, but I never knew what to expect from my peers.

I remember one time I was at a sleepover birthday party for my then-friend Jordan, when we were very young, and I was thrilled when someone was willing to even play Backgammon with me because I was so bored and isolated otherwise. Or was it Checkers?... doesn't matter.

And then in high school I wasn't friends with anyone, and I didn't mistrust them per se because they all seemed like nice enough people, but I also knew that the more I talked to them the more likely they'd be to hate me. Which didn't stop me from talking to them, I must say, but it was more because there was nothing else to do and less because I thought they wanted to hear me.

Wow my world has changed since then.

I'm friends with Yardena. I don't know why she puts up with me, even though obviously my behavior is frustrating her all the time and I have never indicated (nor had) any intention of changing my behavior toward her. She's not normal, but she's normal compared to me. So she shouldn't want to hear me saying the truth all the time, and she's always acting like it offends her, and yet she keeps acting like she wants to spend time with me. It doesn't add up, and I know I'm there to listen to her moreso than she's going to listen to me, but it's never boring to have a conversation with her and I am thankful that she puts up with me for whatever bizarre reason.

So there was Yardena, and there were Harel and Rachel, each of which I could talk to for hours on end, because they're almost as abnormal as I am.

Then there was Josh, a huge geek who loves to talk about things that interest me, who I'm already friendly with because he's occasionally stayed at Avri's house. And there was Benny, who I was at the bottom of the cast of 1776 with, and was always friendly with even though we were never friends. Shoshana came to the party on Friday, and kicked butt at Apples to Apples (which I was terrible at)...

Ah, Shoshana.

Please don't get carried away, now. We've seen how this works. You start pining after her, the Thinker starts validating every random thought you have about her, Shoshana doesn't actually talk much so the hype keeps building and building, and the end result is that I can't get any work done because you loonies keep teetering on the edge of mental breakdown.

Shoshana is awesome.

Shoshana is trouble. Tell you what, why don't you wait until the end of this month and then start obsessing about her again. At least let me have this month to get some work done in. Or better yet, don't obsess about her.

You have no heart.

You have no brain.

Anyway, my point is that there were all these people, any one of whom I could have a long and satisfying conversation with without feeling guilty about it afterward.

Normally you'd feel guilty? About what?

About not noticing a lack of interest. I've gotten better about holding myself back, a little bit, because even with really tolerant people like Yardena we can't exactly relate to each other unless you pick a specific topic where we're on the same page.

But basically, there's guilt whenever I didn't play the scene correctly.

Ah. It's what you noted in Little Social Games.

Sure. Generally I feel guilty for going too far with a perceived opportunity. There was some little opportunity, I saw it as a big opportunity, and the person I was talking to never wants to speak to me again. Or at least I feel that way. With Shoshana on Friday I went to the other extreme, and I felt guilty for the rest of the night that I had pretended I wasn't particularly aware of her presence because I think that's what she wants from me right now.

If you're acting the way she wants you to act, what's to feel guilty about?

About acting how people want, rather than how I want to act. I wish the two were always on the same page, so that I could avoid making other people unhappy without being unhappy myself.

I don't think any of us will fault you for bending a little bit for others. It's sort of part of socializing. Not everyone will accept us exactly how we are at every given moment.

I guess. And it's not like it was so important to talk with Shoshana, I'd just been hoping... I don't know. Never mind.

Anyway, I had a good time even after she left. Though immediately afterward there was the whole drinking game - they were playing "I never" and it was just really pathetic because I've never done anything they'd use in that game (nor do I particularly want to) and they've never done the things I'm most proud of doing. And really what I wanted then was to feel like I wasn't just totally unwanted, but they were harping on all the ways I'm not like them. (Including my policy of not drinking alcohol.)

But then by the time we got into the meal I was just one of the group. I was accepted. I spent 48 hours around other people, and I don't think they wanted to get rid of me. I am a very lucky man to have been invited to this weekend, and to be allowed these friends.



My god, I'm ugly. Every time someone talks to me and doesn't cringe, they must be ignoring the way I look and just seeing the idea of me. Maybe people can only be friends with me if they don't judge people entirely by how they look, because I am going to look revoltingly un-me for the next three months thanks to The Importance of Being Earnest and its director's insistence that everyone look like their characters in all rehearsals. I swear, every time I look in the mirror it's a new shock at how ugly I am. And everyone says I look better like this. Why the hell does everyone not see that this isn't me? I don't look right moving around like this, I don't look right speaking like this, I don't look right existing like this. Without the beard, it's like I'm someone trying to be normal and failing. I'm not trying to be normal. I don't want to be normal. I want to be me. Yardena says I look much better like this. She told me that I look distinctive, which is nice of her to say but I can't agree with that. My only distinctiveness is in how utterly I fail to pull off this look. I'm just a cheap pretender.

We are pretty ugly.

Look, people like me better this way. So why complain? Does it matter what we think of how we look? No, it doesn't.

Do you think I actually get more social opportunities like this?

Oh, absolutely. With the beard people didn't want to talk to us in the first place.

There's quite a bit of fallacious reasoning in what you've said, Person.

If everyone says I look better like this, then how are we relying on people ignoring how we look?

Have you seen how we look?

To me, we'll always be the IMX symbol. That's what we really look like. The face, the body, none of that is real.

The face and the body is all anyone is seeing.

If we looked the way we want to look, Shoshana probably wouldn't have spoken to us in the first place.

You make a good point. Let's grow the hair out! Fewer distractions that way.

You're impossible.

Close

The Thinker didn't know what to respond to this, so he left, considered, and decided to set up a separate user on the computer for the Worker which would be free of distractions. But he quickly realized that this wasn't a good idea.

That's weird. Why did I think the Worker needed his own user?

Oh, right, it was because of the music on the bus.

I saw that not having my usual interface (the piano, in that case) made me unable to move forward. Which really just goes to show that my head is not a flexible place. I need tools to enhance it.

But the tool doesn't need to be a whole different user, and if it were then the Worker would be unable to continue what anyone else had started. We don't want our personalities to be separated from each other.

So let's think about other tools. The Worker needs to be constantly writing his progress.

No, progress is the Gamer's thing. Not progress. But he needs to be constantly writing something that tells him he's working.

It could be as simple as an OK!.

That's a very good idea.

Gamer Mom: OK!

Blog: Partial

Just write my progress as I go.

I'm not using that little notepad for anything.

Wait, I actually could use the little notepad. That's brilliant.

Even check marks could be enough.

Ah! I need new rules for each of us, regarding what we do on the little pad.

Hey, Person, what would you like to write down?

Excuse me? You think I need to be writing on some little pad while people are talking to me?

Yes.

Maybe you could make notes of what people are telling you about.

That would be interesting...

But I think that could freak people out.

Give it a try, see how it goes.

Let's see, the Explorer should be sketching things and jotting down ideas.

Naturally.

The Musician... well, I don't think he'll write out much there. Actually - he could write out any ideas that occur to him.

Structure, and things like that. And if there's a theme, he can add a line in the middle of two lines and he's got a musical bar.

The Worker obviously will be writing down how well he followed the schedule.

I'll write down my ideas.

It's the same thing for you, the musician and the Explorer.

Different sorts of ideas.

The Gamer might write down things to remember in the game.

The Addict will write down love notes to whatever he's working on.

That's creepy.

And then there's the Programmer. He jots things down anyway, on a different pad usually. That's fine, or he can make his notes and analyses on the same pad as the rest of us. Either way.

We're actually going to be going everywhere with two pads now?

Damn straight.

Isn't that, I don't know, cumbersome?

We'll try it out and see.

Okay, new idea. The Worker's already playing along, and I think it'll work nicely. The idea is to keep two pads with us at all times, instead of one.

The big pad is for keeping track of time allocation. The second pad is for staying in character.

I'm not using it for staying in character, I'm using it for keeping track of deadlines.

And for you, that's staying in character. We'll go through everyone and see what they want to do with it, but first I'll explain what the Worker and I have come up with for him, so that it'll maybe give you some ideas.

First off, the Worker is going to copy all the items from his daily schedule into the little pad, and when he finishes a task he set out he'll draw a checkmark. If he didn't deal with the activity the way he'd promised to in the performance review, he'll write an X. Or he'll write "1/2" if he did it, but not precisely how he was supposed to.

I haven't done this yet, but we've gone over it and I think it's a good idea.

The other thing the Worker will do with the pad this month, which he has started already, is to write out the deadlines to follow and writing checkmarks if he meets them properly. Now, I don't know if I'd want him to do this when he has a less prominent role in a month, but I imagine other characters could come up with similar planning methods.

What would I do with this little pad?

Well, you're always saying how you need paper to jot down all your ideas. Jot them down on the paper.

It's a bit small, really. And most of my ideas are more visual. The lines will get in the way.

Ah, I didn't think of that. Well, see what you can do with it.

You know what, maybe it would be cool if I wrote on it but not in order. Can I jump around?

Sure.

That will make it harder for the rest of us.

Not significantly.

Yeah, Explorer, you can use as much of the notepad as you like. If you use it up, we'll just get a new one.

Yay! This will be just like the notepads I had as a kid, where I was scribbling all over the place and I thought of it like a whole world to explore.

Oh dear lord.

Musician, do you think you could write notes on it? You can draw a line in the middle of two consecutive lines, and you can write sheet music.

It would be very awkward.

Then you can write out structure ideas, so that you don't forget them.

Generally when I come up with ideas, my fingers are on the piano. And I want to try them out immediately, I don't want to start writing.

Okay. Well, you don't have to use the pad if it's too awkward to, but you should carry it around with you anyway, just in case.

I just realized something. If we have the little pad, we don't need to bring the big pad with us while we're out. Generally we count it all as one activity anyway.

Okay. Well, try it out one way and the other and see how it works.

I'm fine with the notepad I have. I don't need another one.

Okay, fine. This is all basically what I thought you guys would say. Look, the pad's there, use it or don't. But I think it'll help us stay in character, in a better way than just making new games for first activities.

Hasn't that been the goal of every hare-brained idea you've had in the past year? To stay in character better? You'd think by now we'd be able to stay in character.

Being someone is not a passive state, it is a constant effort.

I'm not in the mood to talk about philosophy. Yardena gave us a nice little pad, it's a good tool, I'm going to use it.

That's all I ask.


Tuesday, November 5, 2013Thursday, November 14, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..." And there's a game I play with a friend of mine, where I play something which sounds really serious on the piano, and then just as it's reaching its climax, I switch to this cheery little "space battle" theme, dah-bada-da-bada-da-da-da. So there could be a "space battle" track which sounds like epic science fiction music -"Like John Williams"- Yeah, exactly, and then that resolves, but then I keep sticking in these tracks in between the other music, which sounds like totally new and serious compositions, but always turn back into the goofy little classical theme. Then, at the end, there's another one of these, and the listener knows exactly where it's going. But it reaches the climax, and instead of going back to the usual punchline, it just leads to another climax, which is even bigger, and that leads to yet another climax, because it keeps just building and building and it's getting ridiculous. And then it turns into Brahms' Lullaby!- duh-duh DEH, duh-duh DEH -and it's got little hints of everything else in the album, and then at the end, when the listener isn't expecting it anymore, there's the last few notes of the space theme and that's the end of the album.

The idea is to have an album of humor, lots of different kinds of humor which work through the music, rather than just through the lyrics. It would be half instrumental and half with lyrics, but even when there are lyrics, there's funny stuff going on in the way the music is composed. That's something which I haven't seen before, and which I think there would be an audience for.

So? What do you think?

Whereupon he asked me: "Could you do stage shows?" Well, yes, I guess so, I said, not sure what this had to do with the entire marketable vision that I'd just described. "You could do funny stage shows. That could be your thing. Like Victor Borge. People would love that. Just you on a stage with a piano, with all this inventiveness that you've got. Comedy with a grand piano. Or if you want something else to play with, I could get it for you."

Well, I said, I could do something with an N64 controller. And we could do the Jabberwocky gag live, by having a video camera recording me singing backwards, and then you play it in reverse on a big screen while I accompany on piano.



He said that I should sell my work to Cracked.com. He said that they've got videos and articles and pictures, but they hadn't done anything with music. That could be my niche. Well, no, I thought, I've got enough humor to make a single album, which was the idea, but I can't be funny in music, on cue, every week. But I listened as he tried to sell me on it.

And then my phone's battery died, and I needed to go home.

2012, March 1st, 22:55 and 16 seconds

View the eventfulness of my February 2012Daily performance reviews for February 2012:(Rules)

Self-meeting for February 2012

Each day, I pick a character to play, follow the Rules for that character, and score myself on how I did. After the month, all my personalities get together to figure out where we stand and where we're going.
Character list

The plan for February was ambitious. For the first half of the month, a succession of under-eight-hour days covering a wide range of attitudes and interests. And for the second half of the month, the Addict would work on Gamer Mom, write about adventure games, and in general live and breathe Gamer Mom until the game was done. It was a fine plan; however, life took some unexpected turns which we chose to play along with rather than following the plan too rigidly. Whether this was a good idea in the long run is a matter of opinion. My opinion is that experiences such as our first date, and the joy of doing Trial By Jury yesterday in friendly company, do not come along every day and will be remembered for the rest of our life.

During the first half of the month, we did follow the plan and jumped from character to character with consistent exuberance. The eight-hour rule had its pros and cons. On the one hand, the energy was high and we gave equal passion to such diverse activities as the cake awareness conference, finishing the first Sly Cooper game, and working on Gamer Mom. On the other hand, we were unable to go beyond the surface of the characters we played, to write blog posts or find opportunities which weren't spelled out. I think limiting a day to eight hours makes a lot of sense when there is not enough time and when a character is merely a pause between two other characters, rather than something we want to develop into a distraction. Expect me to be playing around with the idea on specific days from here on.

Halfway through the month we met Shoshana, and while it turned out she was not interested in me I feel like my world has gotten a little bit more exciting for having met her. We have not contacted her this week because Yardena said it would be a bad idea, but I expect the statute of limitations on required silence will pass soon and then we can just chat casually as friends. During the second half of the month, Shoshana temporarily became an obsession, and I will take the brunt of the blame myself. I was telling stories, as I do, and ignoring realities, and you can see that at the end of my day I was considerably more attached to the idea of a relationship with her than the Person had been after the date itself. It was always the idea of Shoshana that I was interested in, moreso than Shoshana herself, and I fear I drove the Person to the reckless behavior he did, taking over a day that was intended for the Addict and getting himself banned in so doing.

Am I allowed to be at this meeting?

That's a good question.

I don't know how he thinks he can show his face here, after what he did.

Addict, you yourself once stole a day from the Addict.

I would expect some more tolerance.

That wasn't me. Different Addict. I would never do that.

No, I get it. My being here is awkward. I'll go.

There were way too many distractions this month. It was supposed to be the crunch time for Gamer Mom, where we'd be working on it so consistently that we'd get it out on the internet by March 5th. But it's March 1st now and we've still got around 150 nodes to go, plus more when you count the art.

We should wrap up this meeting as soon as possible. The callbacks for The Importance of Being Earnest are tonight, and then we need to keep working on Gamer Mom. We also need to practice for the Megillah reading next week -it shouldn't take too long, because we've done this many times before, but without practice it'll be a subpar performance.

We must not rush this meeting. I'd like to go over rule proposals, come up with plans for the next month, etc.

Well, do all that in the next few minutes. In an hour and a half Kyler may be free to work on Gamer Mom, and we don't want to waste the opportunity.

Fine, let's just wrap up the summary first. The average score was 6.56/10, which is quite respectable.

About that. I do not like the lax attitude toward the Rules. No good can come of it. I understand that you want to seem like a benevolent leader and not punish people too much, but you've got to cut it out. It's gone way too far.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about people sneaking in TV as a "mundane activity". I'm talking about people wasting time for two hours, then starting the day and calling it a first activity. I'm talking about the fact that all month long no one exercised, and while you were entitled to take a point off each time that happened you opted not to. Another few months of this "nice parent" approach, and we won't be following any of the Rules at all!

 

What do you suggest?

You have the power, through the conference room, to deny any of us the privilege of a day, for any reason you choose. Do not allow anyone to begin a day if they are not going to follow the Rules down the letter. Do not let people off the hook if you know they've transgressed. And if someone has messed up, don't let it go the next day. Keep guilting them about it until they learn to stop cheating.

I don't think the hard-ass approach will work. We tried that, remember?

No one was doing anything. It was a complete break-down.

We thrive on arguing and challenging. If I set strict rules, they're just going to get broken.

We have strict rules, and they're good rules. If you want to use a positive tone when talking to us, that's fine, but privately you've still got to be a hard-ass.

It's not like I can practice deception when you all know my inner-most thoughts.

Have you tried it?

I understand what you're saying about the Rules needing to be followed. I'm not sure, at this moment, what I can do about it.

What if I enforced the rules? Have a little masculine/feminine thing going.

Don't ever use those words, please.

Call it what you like. Two leaders: one looking at the story, one looking at the rules. What do you say?

I will need at least a full day to consider your proposal. It is a fascinating one, to be sure.

Don't take too long.

We don't have unlimited time to discuss the nuances of management. We have a lot of commitments this month. First, there's Gamer Mom. We should be spending several hours a day on that, or it won't get done. Then there's the Megillah reading on Purim, which is in one week. Then there are all sorts of social gatherings which I expect the Person will want to attend around then, since he'll be back by then. There's D&D this Saturday night. There's The Tenth Man, where we're apparently going to be throwing out the entire performance we've worked on and starting over. And that all needs to be done on my own time, because there are only three rehearsals between now and the show. The next one is on Tuesday, and preferably we should work out a lot of the details before then. Then there will also be The Importance of Being Earnest, hopefully, and that will be a lot of work as well. We need to get back to Dungeon Master, because it is a project worth doing. And months ago we promised to make a fairly ambitious website for the shul. On top of that, we've been talking about continuing the old sections of the blog, and the Explorer's been talking about redesigns for the self-meetings. Bottom line: if ever there was a month that called for me to be in charge almost all of the time, this is it.

Should I even bother speaking up, at this point?

No, I don't think you should.

Worker, we have been over this. You are not taking over full-time. You need to accept the idea that the rest of us are not going anywhere.

Fine, you can back me up! I'll come to you guys when I have problems, as I always do. But if we don't approach this aiming for maximum productivity, it can't be done.

I agree.

We're talking about ten different projects, all of them complicated, in one month.

And don't forget Skyward Sword. I just opened a new part of the surface!

We don't have enough time.

No, we don't.

I'll give you every other day. That's as far as I'm going.

I'll take it.

And understand me: next month, we call you only for the data entry work. Otherwise, you sit out all of April.

Understood.

Okay. Well, as the Worker points out we really don't have much time, so let's not break this into sections.

Ummm... it's way too late to break this into sections. We've just gone through the plans for March.

Whatever. Does anyone have any rule proposals?

No rule proposals per se, just some advice for you. First off, don't go easy on us.

As I said, I'll think about that.

You don't have time for that, not this month. For now, just take my word for it that you need to be harsher.

What else?

Don't give the Addict a day when his heart isn't in it. During the Shoshana situation, we needed the Gamer to distract us, not Gamer Mom work. You tried to kill two birds with one stone, but I think you need to understand that really difficult, high-energy days like the Addict can't be used as distraction. It's hard enough to do a good Addict under normal circumstances; add emotional distress to that and it's hopeless.

I should really write this all into a post.

You should, but maybe not now.

Those are the only suggestions which come to mind at the moment.

Okay then. Let's get started on the month.

Not yet! First we need to make this into a post!

Ah, yes. Okay. Let's make March a good one.


2012, February 26th, 14:57 and 53 seconds

(15) Days of Shoshana

February 12th

February 23rd

1:38:15 Mory: Hello.

1:38:24 Deirdra: Hi. What's up?

1:38:43 Mory: I'm feeling kind of melancholy.

1:38:53 Deirdra: That sucks. :(

1:39:32 Mory: Yeah. It's about a woman, which is probably common for most people but this is a new feeling for me.

1:39:59 Mory: It's the first time I've met a female person (in person) who I believe to have Asperger's Syndrome.

1:40:34 Mory: I just met her a few days ago, but everything she does reminds me of my own personality traits, just sort of transposed a few scales over.

1:40:40 Deirdra: It happens. :)

14:37:57 Aviella: oy

14:38:00 Aviella: just got your email

14:38:03 Mory: Hello!

14:38:26 Aviella: Im at work so I might be on and off from time to time

14:38:28 Mory: After writing it, I realized that I couldn't leave things like that with her and I wrote a seventh letter begging her to please write me.

14:38:34 Mory: Okay.

14:38:46 Mory: I'm working too.

1:41:25 Mory: Well, not to me it doesn't. That's what I'm saying. And I want to just write her and say that I think she's awesome even though I barely know her, but I think that would just come off as stalker-ish.

14:39:56 Aviella: Mory - STOP writing her

1:42:13 Deirdra: Well, generally, the best way to go about it is to get to know the person as soon as possible so you don't spend too much time building a fantasy image in your head.

1:42:24 Mory: Probably a good idea.

1:42:41 Mory: It is certainly a fantasy that I'm chasing.

1:42:49 Deirdra: I think an innocuous "you're awesome" thing can be appreciated by everyone. As long as it's casual and not too intense.

1:43:07 Mory: There's a casual way to say people are awesome?

1:43:14 Mory: That is not a casual sentiment.

14:40:01 Mory: Sorry.

14:40:03 Mory: I will try.

14:40:10 Mory: It's not easy! :(

14:40:11 Aviella: you are coming off as desperate and annoying

14:40:17 Mory: Okay.

14:40:32 Mory: Thank you.

14:40:37 Aviella: she probably thinks you are quite nuts by now

14:40:41 Aviella: so stop writing her

1:44:12 Mory: The trouble is, it's possible I'm only ever going to see this woman at social events.

1:44:20 Mory: And I am terrible with crowded social events.

1:45:03 Deirdra: Hmm... that's a tough one. How do you know each other, and what do you have in common besides Asperger's?

14:41:11 Aviella: and probably resign yourself to the idea that you will never hear from her again

14:41:29 Aviella: I am being painfully blunt...

14:41:37 Mory: Thank you for that.

1:47:22 Mory: How do we know each other... I have a friend, who lives on my street. He got married to someone I really like talking to in her own right, so we're all friends. And then she has a friend who plays Dungeon & Dragons with us, who's also now a friend as of a few months ago. And she introduced me to this young woman I'm interested in because we were at the same social gathering, though she had mentioned her earlier because she said we were similar.

1:48:52 Mory: We're both actors. We both enjoy musicals, though she knows a lot more about that than I do. Beyond that (and beyond the Asperger's Syndrome which amounts for everything) I don't know of anything we have in common because we just met.

14:41:40 Aviella: I dont mean to hurt your feelings

14:41:48 Aviella: but just stop

14:42:10 Mory: Well, of course you are hurting my feelings, but maybe my feelings need to be hurt. Because you're right, I am acting nuts.

14:42:57 Mory: But seriously, I can't stop thinking about her.

14:43:01 Mory: I've tried.

1:49:04 Mory: But it's mainly the Asperger's Syndrome.

1:49:16 Mory: She'd probably be offended if I even brought that up.

1:49:20 Mory: But maybe not.

1:49:25 Mory: I have no idea.

1:49:41 Deirdra: Well, acting and musicals are both good starting points, I guess.

1:49:53 Deirdra: Is there a way you could both be at a less crowded social event?

1:50:15 Mory: Not likely.

14:45:38 Aviella: Im sorry, I hate that I have upset you

14:45:53 Aviella: but she seems to have made it pretty clear that she isnt interested

14:46:08 Mory: I don't know that for sure.

14:46:13 Mory: She doesn't communicate much.

14:46:24 Aviella: thats a HUGE sign, Mory

14:46:28 Mory: All it would take is a little e-mail, saying "I'm not interested, go away.".

14:46:37 Mory: Or it could mean she's busy.

14:46:55 Mory: She is getting a surgery today, after all.

1:51:10 Mory: That is, unless I actually make the first move. We don't exactly hang out in the same circles - like I said we live in different cities. She lives in Jerusalem and though I regularly commute to Jerusalem I don't spend much time there unless I have something to be doing there.

1:51:29 Mory: I'm just totally lost.

1:52:01 Mory: Like, maybe she isn't right for me. I don't know. But I think the alternative is to just go back to the idea of always being alone.

14:47:00 Aviella: "she gave me this lukewarm goodbye and said that there were a lot of fundamental things we clashed on"

14:47:15 Mory: Yes, she did.

14:47:22 Aviella: female translator: not happening, but thanks

1:52:28 Mory: You have to understand: this is the first person I have ever been romantically interested in ever.

1:52:42 Deirdra: *nods*

1:52:49 Mory: Because I simply have never met a Jewish English-speaking Asperger woman who isn't already taken.

1:53:23 Mory: I've been told that I shouldn't care whether she's Asperger. But it means everything to me.

14:47:44 Mory: She could have just said that, then. But she didn't.

14:47:53 Mory: If she had said that, I would have just moved on.

14:48:05 Aviella: because in "social norms" it is inpolite to be that blunt

1:53:42 Mory: Everyone else, I might enjoy hanging out with them and talking, but I always feel like we're different species.

1:54:03 Deirdra: Do you have any friends with Asperger's in relationships who could help you?

1:54:12 Mory: They won't really "get" me, I won't really "get" them, the most we can aim for is amusement and maybe some respect.

1:54:26 Deirdra: Right.

1:54:28 Mory: I don't understand your question.

1:55:15 Deirdra: Like, you've met "taken" Jewish English-speaking Asperger women? Are you friends with any of them?

1:55:38 Mory: Not sure.

14:48:10 Mory: If she were to say that now, I would just move on.

14:48:13 Aviella: so she tried to say it nicely

14:48:19 Mory: But she's not saying anything, and it's driving me crazy.

14:48:27 Mory: This is nicer?!

14:48:35 Mory: This is just cruel.

The Editor
The editor despises inadequacy, but seems to find it at every turn. The only pleasure he takes in other people is the satisfaction of correcting them, but to be fair, he takes a lot of satisfaction in correcting them. The editor is always on the move, to stay one step ahead of the invisible foe who'd have a more discerning eye (and more merciless tongue) than himself.

Friday, May 08, 2015

"Edit my son's book!", an online job listing says. It's not much money, but it's something.

I promptly apply. A week later, I get a mass e-mail notifying all the applicants that since there are so many of us, a further round of testing is required. The book is a horror-tinged fantasy story. Why am I uniquely qualified for this job, above all other contestants?

I do not respond.

1:57:11 Mory: The wife of my friend, whose friend's friend is this Asperger woman, may be mildly Aspergery but I don't know. She's certainly never been diagnosed. But she and her husband are the cutest couple ever, so I don't really care one way or the other.

1:58:08 Deirdra: Could you talk to her or her husband and maybe get some ideas as to what kinds of things you can do to get to know this woman better?

1:59:12 Mory: I could, and if I thought they had anything to tell me I certainly would have no shame in asking, but I don't see why they'd be able to help.

2:00:02 Deirdra: Well, they're in the same social circles, so I figured there'd be more specific ideas there.

2:00:02 Mory: This doesn't have anything to do with them.

2:00:10 Mory: They're not in the same circles.

2:00:17 Deirdra: Okay.

14:48:51 Aviella: "In all this time, she wrote back only once, to say very briefly that she'd hoped I'd enjoy the YouTube series."

14:48:53 Mory: I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and saying she's just too busy.

14:49:03 Aviella: there lies your answer, sweety

14:49:21 Mory: Because if she really does want me to go away, she's being really nasty not telling me so.

14:50:06 Aviella: Mory, you want her to behave in a manner which you can relate to and are refusing to take what she is giving you as her refusal

14:50:20 Aviella: but it is unfair of you to expect her to react the way you think she should

14:50:39 Aviella: she is her own person and will interact in her way

2:01:18 Mory: I don't know, I could talk to the woman who introduced me to her, I guess. But I don't want to dump this on her. She doesn't understand why I care that I think she's Asperger.

2:01:46 Mory: Maybe I should, though.

2:02:09 Mory: Its not a terrible idea.

2:02:10 Deirdra: Well, you don't really have to explain why you like someone; most people understand you just do, and don't care about the reasons.

2:02:21 Mory: Right.

14:51:00 Mory: Her way is mean, then.

14:51:02 Aviella: that is one of your fundamental differences

14:51:11 Mory: I would never do that to someone.

14:51:13 Aviella: no, her way is the "normal" way

14:51:33 Mory: Doesn't contradict what I just said.

2:02:41 Deirdra: You don't even need to mention Asperger's, except maybe in relation to yourself.

2:02:59 Mory: Sure, it makes sense to not speak of a "disorder".

14:51:36 Aviella: no, but your telling her that she has aspergers is also not normal and quite offensive

14:51:50 Mory: Why? It's the truth, and it's beautiful.

2:05:44 Mory: The trouble is I'm torn between all these different impulses. Mainly I just want to write the girl and say... I don't know what. Tell her I've never met any woman who's as much like me as she seems to be, which is true but doesn't seem very romantic. So I think maybe I should leave her alone, finish my game or be in a play I invite her to or something like that so that I'm not just some loser who wants to hang out with her for some strange reason. But then I think, no, if she really is like me then she'll understand bluntness and not want the silly mind games. And then I think, maybe she's not like me at all and I'm just seeing what I want to see.

14:51:59 Aviella: and she was clearly hurt by it - she told Moshe so

14:52:17 Aviella: its beautiful to you, but it is hurtful and offensive to her

14:52:26 Aviella: you are simply not willing to see things from her point of view

14:52:37 Aviella: that is a huge fundamental difference

14:53:00 Aviella: you have the right to your thoughts and needs, as does she

14:53:21 Mory: I don't know for certain what her point of view is. I understand your interpretation, and it makes sense, but I don't believe she's normal. If she's not normal, she might not be acting for the reasons you say.

14:54:11 Aviella: Mory, you know what her point of view is because you wrote about it in your email - I think you dont want to really see/understand it

2:07:04 Deirdra: Hmm, that's a good point. If she really is who you hope she is, a direct approach might be best.

2:07:20 Deirdra: And if she's put off, then you can remove all doubt.

14:54:44 Mory: Bleh. I need a hug.

14:54:51 Mory: :(

14:55:08 Aviella: sending lots of HUGS

14:55:16 Aviella: :(

2:07:42 Mory: http://xkcd.com/55/

2:08:23 Deirdra: :)

2:08:42 Mory: Thanks for talking to me. It helped me put a lot of thoughts in order.

2:08:51 Deirdra: Anytime. Glad I can help.

2:09:05 Mory: I have to write some letters. Bye.

2:09:12 Deirdra: Ta.

14:55:17 Mory: Thank you. This is just too much for me.

14:55:54 Aviella: its hard to allow someone to enter and see our close, emotional side

14:56:09 Aviella: we feel vulnerable and dissapointed when it doesnt work out as we had hoped

14:56:36 Aviella: and it hurts...

14:56:48 Mory: It's not hard for me to allow people to see my personal side. I let everyone see who I really am.

14:57:05 Mory: I just thought there was a chance here.

14:57:07 Mory: I really did.

14:57:24 Mory: Okay, thank you.

From: Mory
To: Shoshana

Hello. This will be a very awkward letter. I state that as a certainty, but I do not apologize for it because if I'm right about you, you may understand where I'm coming from and why I need to write this. And if you don't understand where I'm coming from, then chances are I've misread you (A very likely scenario, I must logically admit.) and I'll know to leave you alone in the future.

I will get straight to the point. I have been obsessed with the thought of you since Wednesday. I know this is not the sort of thing one is supposed to blurt out after two brief and unexceptional chance meetings. So I wish I could back up this sentiment with a long list of things about you which are awesome, as if what I'm saying is some sort of rational argument ("All I am doing is establishing clear facts about your indisputable greatness."), but I can't do that because the fact is I don't know you at all. All I have seen from you in fields where a concept of objective awesomeness would apply is that you have a lovely voice, you participated in a clumsy improvisation, and you seem to take great pride in your clothes, which is a subject I tend to neither notice nor appreciate. So I have no idea what your objective qualities might be, to praise or otherwise comment on them. All I know is what little I've seen of how you talk and how you act. More specifically, you talk with great passion of very particular things, and you act as if what is expected of you is not even a consideration. These are qualities which are not common, especially among women where (I believe) there is greater pressure than that placed on men to stamp out qualities which are not social in nature. Most people simply do not care as much about anything as you care about musical theater or geography. That level of energy is generally reserved for mimicking others, pleasing others, dominating others, etc. Most of the people I've met in my life bore me - I can understand why it's useful in society to have the priorities they have, but I can't relate to it any more than I could relate to the behaviors of some (albeit intelligent) alien species. My impression of you -and I may be totally wrong on this count, I don't know you at all- is that you're more like me.

I will elaborate on how I reached this conclusion, to minimize the risk of any misunderstandings. After all, I may simply be seeing what I want to see, and reading too much into little details which don't signify anything. On Wednesday, I noticed a number of times you responded to me or others very directly, without acknowledging the tone of what they'd said. For instance, I said (and I believe these were my exact words): "So what is it you do, and other generic forms of conversation.". And you simply told me what it is you do, straightforwardly but not brusquely. I think most people would have either accepted or rejected the bored tone of the question, in any event making that second half of the sentence the part they reacted to most, but you moved right past it. My hypothesis is that it did not concern you: you had an opportunity to talk about something you like to talk about, and the details of how you reached that opportunity were trivial. That is not the way most people think, but it is the way I think. If a casual acquaintance says to me "How are you?", only intending to be polite, but I have something interesting to say on the subject of my current well-being, I will damned well say it. If someone won't accept my disregard for social protocol, that's not a person I want to interact with.

For another thing, when you volunteered topics of conversation they were not fluffy ideas to be batted around but well-considered monologues. And you did this often, as though there were a tremendous number of things you wished you could be talking about instead of sitting quietly with minimal social opportunities... but here again I may be overzealous in assuming your motivation is similar to mine. All I know is that when you spoke I got the sense that these were things you had already analyzed and considered in depth privately, and that you could probably keep talking on the subjects for a long time if you believed we would let you. They were also often not topics which would have otherwise come up. This is where I get the idea that you are unusually passionate about unusual things, and that is something I relate to. For instance, I spend a lot of time privately going over the idea of videogames as a continuum of separate-but-linked art forms each with their own qualities and rules rather than a single medium, and when someone actually permits me to speak on the subject I never want to stop because I know it may be months before I am granted such an opportunity again.

There were many other little things you did that jumped out at me, but let's just say I got the sense that you're a lot like me, just transposed a few scales over. I don't know whether we share any interests, but maybe we've got similar personalities. I've met a few men who are like me, but never a woman (or at least, never in person) and I have to admit I never thought I would meet someone like you. That you exist changes things.

..or at least, it does if I'm right about what sort of person you are. I can only know for sure if you tell me, and this is why I am asking so directly. I have explained exactly why I am interested in you. And if you need to know more about me before responding to such a personal e-mail, you can find out everything there is to know about me by doing a simple Google search of my name. (I don't believe in privacy.) If you find my bluntness offensive, you can respond with a simple "Piss off." and I won't ever bother you again. I would understand in that case that you're not anything like me, and it's all in my head, because the idea of total honesty ever being worse than the alternative is not natural to me. The usual tactfulness is a frustrating attitude which I put up with only because the world is so overrun with people I can't relate to. And if you're one of those people who I can get to know but never really understand, then this is all simply a misunderstanding and I won't take any more of your time. But if you are like me, then I really want to get to know you better.

-Mory

14:58:04 Mory: I don't know how I'm going to continue my work now.

14:58:19 Mory: I just want to curl up in a little ball and stop existing.

14:58:29 Aviella: take a deep breath and eat some ice creams

14:58:37 Aviella: and watch something that makes you laugh

14:59:07 Mory: I had some ice cream already. I am full from ice cream. This goes beyond ice cream. And I'm not in the mood for something funny, except for the YouTube series Shoshana introduced me to. :(

14:59:46 Mory: Is it strange that I actually feel physically ill?

14:59:56 Mory: Maybe it's just too much ice cream.

15:00:24 Aviella: its not strange, its perfectly normal

15:00:32 Mory: Argh!

15:00:38 Mory: I don't want to be normal. :)

15:01:24 Aviella: ... too late

15:01:46 Aviella: you are experiencing shock and grief

15:02:06 Aviella: your digestive track is adjusting to the news and is still transitioning

15:02:32 Aviella: dont underestimate good, deep breaths.

15:03:26 Mory: Thank you.

15:04:58 Mory: I'm never going to meet anyone. Shoshana was one in a million, and she didn't like me.

15:06:19 Aviella: I know it feels that way now

15:06:29 Aviella: but I promise you, it gets better :)

15:07:25 Mory: You don't understand. I always assumed I was never going to meet anyone, because the odds of someone I'm compatible with both existing and meeting me are infinitesimally small.

15:07:40 Mory: It's not that it just feels that way now.

15:08:07 Mory: Now it feels like... I don't know what it feels like, certainly worse than the idea of being alone.

15:09:03 Mory: It's just that this feels so bad because even this wasn't supposed to happen. It didn't make sense that I'd meet an English-speaking Jewish Asperger woman who isn't totally repressed.

15:09:12 Mory: There can't be many of them

15:09:47 Mory: There are probably just hundreds in the entire world.

15:11:47 Mory: And I can live with the idea of always being alone, I've felt that way my entire life, it's just that I thought I didn't have to be. And that's why I've been holding on so desperately.

15:12:28 Mory: You're right, I don't want to believe there's no hope here. But you're also right that there's no hope here.

15:13:57 Mory: If you'll excuse me, I need to play my most depressing piece on the piano.




15:21:38 Mory: I think that helped.

15:23:00 Mory: You're not there. Okay.


15:36:56 Mory: Okay. I think I'll be okay. And in a few minutes when I have the urge to write her again I'll resist it, and in a few hours I'll leave her alone again, and tomorrow I'll hold myself back, and eventually maybe I'll be able to live my life. But this would be so much easier if she'd just be honest with me.

15:37:19 Mory: Are you friends with her, or just a casual acquaintance?

16:08:45 Aviella: casual acquaintance

16:08:52 Aviella: sorry, just returned to my computer

16:09:12 Mory: Right. I figured. I was getting some work done, so evidently the piano helped.

16:09:23 Aviella: good, get back to work :)

16:09:34 Mory: Yes sir.

16:09:36 Aviella: I am leaving the office in a few and have gotta finish up some stuff before I leave

16:09:53 Mory: Okay. Thank you again for being straight with me.

16:09:54 Aviella: hang in there, darling :)

16:10:01 Aviella: speak soon~

From: Mory
To: Shoshana

Thank you for writing. I'm fine now, after talking to a lot of people who explained to me (without my biased view) what was going on. I misunderstood your intent, and it is a huge relief to finally hear what it was that you were thinking.

What happened was this: when you said your problem with me was our differing philosophies as evidenced by our different attitudes toward popular culture (The two specific examples you used were Spike in Buffy, and the music on your iPhone.), I thought that made a lot of sense and explained your lack of interest. With all our pop culture-related disagreements, it was about either cliché or following plot convenience. You were okay with entertainment that followed simple patterns, while I wanted entertainment which was different and unexpected. And I observed that that disagreement applied to a lot of other things we "clashed" on, as you put it, since you try to follow social conventions and I reject them as a matter of philosophy. So I was thinking along these lines and I was absolutely ready to move on and hopefully be friends but not any more than that. But then I watched Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged, and I so thoroughly enjoyed it (even though it predictably repeats many gags and techniques) that the argument you had made no longer made sense in my mind. And suddenly I started noticing a lot of similarities between a lot of the things you like and some of the things I write, which I hadn't thought of previously. I started getting invested in the idea of a relationship again, and since you hadn't outright said that you weren't interested in me as a romantic partner, but had only used a tone which you explained as being because of our differences in regards to pop culture (which I no longer saw as relevant), I thought that was still on the table. So I was planning out how I could change my personality in order to make you happier, and stuff like that. It was all overboard, because since I've never dated I don't have any baseline for what's expected behavior.

It was all based on a misunderstanding, and while I have been going crazy ever since Monday I don't blame you for any of it. This was just me making a fool of myself as usual. You know what? The crazy thing is, even though a few hours ago I wanted to curl up into a ball and stop existing, and even though after each letter I wrote I wished I could "load the game" and undo it, I don't regret it. I never knew I could be so invested in the idea of a relationship, so it's an eye-opener if nothing else.

And I agree, now that it's clearer what was going on, that we'd be better off as friends, if you're not too embarrassed by this incident to see that as an impossibility.

-Mory

P.S. Have you been watching the TV show Smash? I'm really enjoying it; one of the songs from it has been stuck in my head for a week or two.

three comments, the last one being from myself
Rel, Of course said:

Ah - The "What if there is nobody else" trap is one to avoid. First of all, its not being fair to yourself or her if you give added weight to a relationship only because you think it might be your only chance.

also, what girl (or guy) would appreciate knowing that they were a last resort?
bad thoughts, bad.. :-p

It's both kinda cool and weird to see all the cards on the table the way you do yours. Not many girls could handle it, but the advantage of being out there and honest is that you should have a pretty great relationship when you do find the right person (her or otherwise)

Rel the Rambunctious Rasin said:

I think you are too hard on the worker and/or he is too hard on himself.

No matter how you try to slice up your psyche, you are still human - and that's a good thing.

being able to fully successfully divide your mind would greatly affect your ability to be creative and empathetic.

 Mory said:

We neither require nor tolerate creativity or empathy in the Worker. Both attributes get in the way of the work. Empathy, of course, is less of an issue because whenever other people get involved the Worker lets the Person take over. But in a work environment, the quality of the work should take precedence over how people feel, up to the point where the work suffers.

That we push the Worker as hard as we do is quite deliberate: I look at the people I know who exemplify all the qualities I need in a reliable worker, and the one element they all have in common is low self-esteem and the resulting need to prove themselves. Hence the Worker's catchphrase: "I'm not good enough, but today is going to be perfect.".

I'm not worried about what these attitudes will do to me, because we don't allow the Worker to take over full-time. (You will note in the self-meeting that any time the Worker suggests the idea, the Thinker unhesitatingly shoots him down.) We offset the Worker's productivity with other characters, so that no positive aspect of my personality is lost in the shuffle.

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2012, February 22nd, 13:49 and 36 seconds

Obsessed

It is not pleasant to be in a story and not know what kind of story it is.
Is it a romance?
A farce?
One of those independent films that takes itself very seriously even though it's nonsense?

It is new to me to not be the one writing the story.
Will she develop the story further?
Write me out?
Write me in?
There might not be a story here.
I might be imagining all of it.
Wouldn't be the first time.

I've been making a complete fool of myself.
My intention was to just be myself.
But maybe it was too much of myself, too quickly.
"Self" is a complicated concept.
Maybe it didn't need to all be spelled out at once.
If I were in her position, how would I react to this behavior?
I have no idea - no one's shown me anything like this behavior.
By which I mean, interest.
Except for you, you reading this.
You're cool.
You don't talk much, though.

My e-mail notification just went off and I jumped.
It was spam.
Of course it was just spam.
She's a busy person.
I can't expect her to keep up with someone who's just thinking about her all day.
But I can't not be thinking, and I can't not be waiting.
What if there's some bad impression I made that I can do something to fix?
What if there's some way I can start a relationship?
What if bugging her more is going to make her fed up with me?
She's a busy person, after all.
And I am wasting her time with my existence.
But she said I wasn't annoying her.
But she said that she likes to "reciprocate" feelings, even when it's not honest.
She doesn't have any feelings for me.
Or she might have only negative feelings.
Or she might be completely apathetic about me.
But if she does, it doesn't make her less awesome.
If she hates me, I still want to spend more time with her.
But if I think she's awesome and she thinks I'm a creep, then I need to get away from her.
But I need to see her again.
But if I see her again, she might tear my heart out.
But I enjoyed spending time with her.
But I don't think she enjoyed spending time with me.
I'm too bloody weird.
Why did I have to put all that weirdness on full display?
Because this is me.
But maybe she'll never like me.
Maybe she does like me and just hasn't said it.
Maybe I'm a deluded idiot.
No, not maybe.
One way or another, I am a deluded idiot.

We're not dating.
We had one date.
"Dating" implies that there will be more.
I have no idea if there will be more.
She doesn't talk much.
I hate this silence, but I have no right to.
She's never promised me anything.
She has no obligations.

This isn't going to work, is it.
A one-way relationship can't work.
Maybe it'll go the other way, if I give it time.
Maybe if I shut up about myself for a few minutes, this can be a relationship with her.
Not a relationship with the version of her in my head.
I've done the imaginary girlfriend thing.
Doesn't work.

I need to step back, give her some room.
I need to text her, right now.
I need to let her live her life without constant interruptions.
I need to talk to her.
What would I say?
I don't want to say anything.
I want her to say something.
I need to wait.
What if she never writes back?
She wouldn't do that.
I have no idea what she would or wouldn't do.

I just want to show her my music and my games and my screenplays and my comic book edits and my experimental blogging.
Is that so much to ask?
I've asked too much already.
I've asked her to care.
She has no reason to do that at this stage.
And because I asked, there might not be a next stage.
There probably won't be a next stage.
I'm an irritating person.
She's not going to accept who I am.
She certainly doesn't like who I am.
I need to stop thinking about her.

What if there's no one else?


2012, February 20th, 02:05 and 26 seconds

Waiting for the next big blog post

This is a transcript of a conversation on February 17th between the various characters I play.

I need to know where I stand with Shoshana. It's driving me crazy.

You know exactly where you stand with Shoshana.

That's not the point!

I can't... move forward.

This is a lot like Gamer Mom, isn't it.

Oh, spare me.

The 17th was the middle of the Addict's extended day, a marathon of Gamer Mom work which was unfortunately continually interrupted by TV shows and other distractions. The Addict put on a good show of enthusiasm, but there's only so much enthusiasm one can muster while in the mindset of nervous waiting.

It seems like there are massive opportunities within reach, opportunities which I've been dreaming about for years, and I can't shake the feeling that it's all in my head. There's precedent in this blog for imagined opportunities.

You know what, I thought I'd be subtle here and just stick the phrase "imagined opportunities" in bold and leave it at that, but to heck with subtlety. You should search the page (Ctrl-F in most browsers) for "imagined opportunities". Seriously, do that right now. Nothing particularly interesting is said in this dialogue here anyway. Looking back, I particularly like how the 74 post right above Imagined Opportunities totally backed up the argument Tamir was making in the comments, and I didn't even notice.

No, really, it is. Wanting to move forward, but trapped in a strange space where there is no way forward, or at least not yet. Gamer Mom traps the player in a few moments, and maybe life will get better shortly afterward but in those moments it seems like nothing's ever going to change.

This should be a blog post.

It should be called "Trapped in the Present".

There's a word for that - impatience.

You sucked the fun out of it. Good going.

And then there's Kyler, who I am completely reliant on, but he's a world away and there are so many images left.

This is exactly like Gamer Mom.

It's nothing like Gamer Mom. Kyler's on our side. So is Shoshana, apparently.

But I am so scared that I'll meet Shoshana and it will be just this long awkward silence where I have absolutely nothing to say.

So talk about Gamer Mom. Talk about how we're inventing a new genre of adventure game, and how the rest of the adventure games out there all suck by comparison.

That just sounds arrogant, when you put it like that.

It happens to be true.

We are putting a formidable amount of craftsmanship into this baby.

And there's the problem with Kyler, in a nutshell. What we are asking of him is ridiculous. Why is he sticking around? Doesn't he understand how much work there is for him? I keep trying to make life simpler for him, but then I keep running into problems I didn't anticipate, which I should have anticipated.

So let's sit down and figure out exactly what we want of Kyler for the next time we work together, which God willing will be Saturday night. (I hope no D&D session is scheduled for then.)

Let's go through node by node, and figure out how we'd act it out if we were acting it out. That way we can come to Kyler on Saturday night with a clearer idea of what he needs. Maybe write it out in stages - first a general sense of the emotion, and then if he's having trouble a more detailed description. We don't want to impose our own ideas in every single node, sometimes he can come up with something better. And if we don't give him room to have fun, he'll burn out for sure.

I am so not good at this whole "anticipating other people's needs" thing.

I think your attitude needs adjustment. Why shouldn't you be good at anticipating other people's needs?

No, let me rephrase that. From now on, you're going to be good at anticipating other people's needs. We've been going back and forth on what your personality is like, so there you go. You're welcome.

Okay, I'll do that then.

Thanks.



No, sorry, I'm getting nothing.

What, you expect this to be a superpower or something? You just sit there, and radio signals enter your head telling you what the people around you need?

If only.

Just figure it out.

Right. Figure it out. I can do this.

It might help if you analyze the chat transcripts from working with Kyler. See when he burns out, what frustrates him.

I doubt that'd help at all. When he's drawing, he's off drawing. He's not chatting. So if he's having trouble, the only indication I have is that he takes longer. But then sometimes he comes back after all the trouble with a brilliant image, and sometimes he comes back with something unusable. But most often I cause the problems myself, because he gives me an image and I say "That's great!", and then we see how it works in practice and it does not work in practice. Maybe I should just not react to things until I've considered all the angles.

"It is an image. Now wait there ten minutes so that I can decide whether it is a good image. Just sit there, don't move a muscle, I'll be right back with you."

I was serious about the note-taking thing. We should seriously do that.

Sounds better than what I was about to say. Okay, we'll try it and see how it goes.

And what about Shoshana?

Again, this is your job. We're supposed to come to you to figure out how to deal with other people, not the other way around.

But I don't know how to deal with other people!

You take that back.

Oh, okay.

I know how to deal with other people.

Now say it like you mean it.

I'm sorry, I didn't realize how boring this conversation was. It seemed kind of eventful when I was having it. But talking to yourself does magnify everything in your mind, doesn't it? I wish I had some fascinating story to tell you, instead of this. Why don't you go look at the post "Purveyor of Silliness". That's a fun one, I always like revisiting it. Or you can just keep clicking the "I Am Not..." logo on the top right, and chances are you'll get to something interesting. But don't keep reading this dialogue -just copying and pasting transcripts is the bottom of the barrel. This blog used to have ambition and class. Now it's just tired - I can't even do self-reference well anymore. Now, I vs. I - that was the high point. No self-referential post I'm ever going to write will be able to compete with that. It's sad, to have peaked so young. 24 in two days, and already I've said everything I have to say. A year ago, I still thought this blog was going to amount to something. Remember Sequential Motion Pictures? What a terrible post, but at least I had a vision of nonlinear self-expression; that was something interesting. And yeah, it was a failure, but what's come after that hasn't even been trying. I mean, it's all about the fake multiple personalities now. Just a total rehash. I wrapped up the character arcs for the other fonts for a reason. I'd brought it as far as it needed to go. Now I'm just doing it again, with more banal characters.

Is this necessary?

You know, restricting a player's options to just a handful of possibilities is instrumental in creating a clear character in interactive fiction. If the player can do anything, the character has no shape.

Would you please shut the hell up about Gamer Mom for a moment.

I was talking about you.

I know you were. Thank you.

It seems like it's pretty simple, really. The needs of other people (if I care about those people) go before my own needs.

And the game is more important than the people. Never forget that.

Don't be stupid, now.

This is of course a disagreement between the two of you, based on your characters' priorities. But for now the Addict is running the Gamer Mom progress, and the Person is called whenever other people are present. The Addict prioritizes the game over other people, and the Person prioritizes people over the game. So whenever we deal with one or the other, that one is greater than the other. And the priorities swap whenever we swap activities. To put it more simply: whatever we are engaging in in a given moment should be the most important thing in the world at that moment.

I'm sorry, was that supposed to be helpful?

We can't worry about Kyler's feelings if it means harming Gamer Mom.

If we don't worry about Kyler's feelings, there is no Gamer Mom.

That is also true.

Not that I'd want to hurt his feelings in any event. We are, after all, on the same side. I don't want to be the sort of director that I've had to work with in amateur theater, who makes ridiculous demands.

You said yourself a few minutes ago that Gamer Mom was a ridiculous demand on an artist.

Especially if we're not paying him. But hopefully there will be donations, and 50% of that (past what little it costs to keep the game on the internet on its own domain) will go to Kyler.

Maybe it should all go to Kyler. I don't need money.

We need money.

Okay, maybe we need a little money.

We need money.

You're a broken record.

Fine, we need money. I get it. Not that there will be much money coming in from this. Maybe a few dollars. Not enough to justify all the different kinds of hell I'm putting Kyler through.

I'm sure this isn't nearly as much work as some of the animation projects he's worked on.

I'm not sure about that. But also - those are his projects, or projects he's paid to do.

This is his too. Can you picture Gamer Mom without Kyler's designs?

Not now, I can't. They are great designs.

Look, maybe I can rewrite parts of the script so that we'll need less drawings.

Don't you dare change the script.

We just deviated from the script earlier today, when we added in a node to smoothen a transition.

The mundanity of it all! There is as much drama here as in a casual discussion on the intricacies of plumbing. I don't know why I'm continuing this blog, I really don't. There's no point to it anymore, it's become a formless mush. I'll have to ask the Thinker to come up with something new.

Yeah. I feel kind of guilty about that. It shouldn't have been necessary.

And that node there is purely following animation logic, there's not an ounce of gamism logic to it.

It's a problem, and I don't want to ever do anything like that again.

What, you mean a compromise?

I mean compromising the value of the game.

A certain amount of compromise may be necessary, in the name of getting the game released. The deadline is March 5th. We are not progressing at a corresponding pace.

I'm spending all my time on Gamer Mom!

No, you're spending half your time on TV shows which you hide under the title of "mundane activities". Cut the bullshit.

Is that actually how the Rules are being used? TV shows which just aren't getting specified? Something needs to be done about this. Perhaps disqualifying certain activities from not being specifically spelled out in the time allocation table?

No drastic measures are called for. The Addict has this under control, don't you, Addict?

Of course. There is nothing in the world that I care about as much as getting Gamer Mom completed.

Perfect. And Person, where do you stand with Shoshana?

See, here's the thing I really don't understand: why are you reading this? You can't possibly think any of this is interesting. Even I don't think it's interesting, and I love to hear myself talk. You're probably just waiting, same as me. Waiting for something interesting to show up in this silly post. So am I.

Heh. Tell you what. This next year of blogging is going to be awesome. It's going to build on everything I've written these past seven years, and it's going to go in new directions and do things you've never seen on a blog before. My eighth year of blogging is going to knock your socks off, and if (like me) you don't wear socks, the blog will first put socks on your feet, and then knock them off. That is how brilliant what I am going to write will be. Sincerely.

I'm going to be patient. I've gone about ten or eleven moves past what one might consider socially acceptable at this point in a relationship, and while I don't think I was wrong to do so I do think that the next move is hers. But I shouldn't think of it like that. I don't want to create any more pressure than I've already done.

I'm not waiting for her to do anything. We'll meet up, I'll just listen and get to know her better, and if there's something I can do that'll make her happy, rather than vice versa, that's what I'm going to pursue.

Likewise, we'll go over all the upcoming nodes of Gamer Mom so that we have what to say to Kyler if he gets stuck, but once he's pointed in the right direction we need to accept whatever he gives, whether or not it's what we expected. And that means that if there's an image he draws that could possibly be slightly better with an extra half hour of work, but it's decent already, we move on and we don't get Kyler burnt out. If he wants to fix it later, he can do that.

I should talk to him and confirm this way of working. Just keep moving forward, problems get fixed only if Kyler says there's a problem.

I think this attitude does a disservice to Gamer Mom.

Any other attitude would be doing a disservice to Kyler.

Excellent. See, you can handle this. Go on, off with you. Everyone with their jobs.


2012, February 1st, 20:41 and 02 seconds

View my reasonably productive streak in January 2012Daily performance reviews for January 2012:(Rules)

Self-meeting for January 2012

Each day, I pick a character to play, follow the Rules for that character, and score myself on how I did. After the month, all my personalities get together to figure out where we stand and where we're going.
Character list

The goal in January was balance between the play and the game. It is difficult to gauge whether we were successful, given that we did not mark down the time spent on the play that was not mandatory.

I counted up the times. It was 36 hours precisely on Gamer Mom, and 82:33 on The Tenth Man, with an extra 10:48 (not an exact figure) spent on the blog post about The Tenth Man.

Not remotely close to "balance".

Hard to say. Those figures ignore the time spent on Gamer Mom in between days, which was valid because the rehearsals and performances were "previously-scheduled social events". So that's another few dozen hours, possibly. And we estimated at the beginning of the month that over 100 hours would be mandatory for the play, none of which would be counted in the balance against the game. So really, it looks like the game has the lead. There was not all that much time spent on the play in our own time.

What is the point of keeping track of times, if we're not going to record the most relevant statistics?

The statistics don't matter.

We worked on the play and did a decent job, we worked on the game and made progress.

Most of all, I'd like to emphasize that the underlying attitude we were going for -"no time wasted"- was upheld religiously.

And it worked well, like I always said it would. We don't need the fluff, we just need to keep moving.

Music is not fluff. Worker, I thought you understood this.

Music can get us places. So can the game, and to a lesser extent the acting.

This wasn't nearly as clean a month as you're all suggesting. There was lots of time wasted on passive activities such as TV and comics.

That is my right. After a hard day's work, it is my right to relax.

And what's the Person's excuse?

I was... bored?

We may need to rewrite the Person's rules.

You can't rewrite something that's never been written in the first place. The Person has been vaguely characterized from day one.

No, I'm the one who steps up when other people are around!

Like how you blew off the cast party. Good going.

That wasn't me, that was the Addict!

You could have stepped up.

Okay, fine, I admit it. I didn't really want to be there.

How does a party compare to Gamer Mom, on our list of priorities? One activity is a new kind of story, which will be played over the world and needs to be done in this coming month. The other is a party. Kyler isn't always available, we need to pounce at the opportunity.

I just didn't want to go. I didn't think it would be worthwhile.

I have to agree with the Worker that the Person's behavior does not make sense. Person, you wrote the blog post "Yardena", which had no tact whatsoever and would have permanently destroyed our friendship with Yardena if she were even slightly less tolerant than she is.

She gets it. No harm done.

You can't act like that. You're supposed to be the ambassador here. You're not supposed to court alienation.

Can we please talk about my second-class status here?

One thing at a time. First, we will figure out what to do about the Person.

The Person

Summary

It seems to me that the Person should be required to be more sociable.

What, even with people I don't like?

Especially with people we don't like. If we don't like the other person, we get our Person to deal with him/her. It seems sensible.

It's a waste of time, is what it is.

I'm afraid I'm on the Person's side here. Some people, we're just incompatible with.

And for the record, if I had gone to that party I would have been perfectly sociable. But no one was requiring me to be at that party, so I didn't volunteer.

You do not post private things like the blog post "Yardena". That was a blog post about really personal thoughts about someone who did not know those thoughts previously. And then you sent an e-mail to her about the post. I could understand if it were a love letter or about how much you esteem someone, but this was a really messy letter

-post-

whatever, and there was no need for anyone to ever find out about these feelings.

I do think that is the whole idea behind a blog: letting the internet witness interesting aspects of your life. This plays off of Multiplayer in interesting ways, so much so that it could have been called "Multiplayer, Part 4".

And why wasn't it? Because I wasn't consulted. Oh man, what I could have done with this post. And it's just a white page. For shame.

Is there anything in particular I did wrong, or are you guys just ranting for the sake of ranting?

You spent a lot of time watching TV and comics. Don't do that without other people.

It is perfectly legitimate to watch TV and read comics. It gives me what to talk to other people about.

When was the last time you talked with someone about either of those things?

Even if I don't, I share the comics with Avri. So there's a social component to it, that won't be there if I don't read the comics in the first place.

Here's an idea for a rule: "If the Person has been in control for an hour and no social interaction (or direct preparation for social interaction) has taken place, the day must be scored immediately. The one-hour timer is not counting for any character but the Person, and is reset upon switching to the Person. (This rule applies even when the Person did not start the day.)"

Do comics count as "direct preparation for social interaction"?

No, they do not.

They might.

No, they do not.

We do share comics with other people. Avri, and now Yaakov, and whoever else agrees to read them....

Thank you.

Let's put it this way: if the main intent of reading the comics was to prepare for social interaction, for instance if the comics are being read only so that they can be burned onto a disc, then it's okay. But if these are new comics, or comics which are not going to be shared any time soon, then no.

I'll rephrase "direct preparation for social interaction" as "an activity whose main intent is preparation for social interaction". It's longer, but the meaning is clearer.

I think this will do fine. It'll keep the Person focused on other people, rather than using the Person as an excuse to do whatever we feel like doing.

What if the day hasn't been the minimum length yet?

Do we still score then, or does this rule not count yet?

Good question, and whatever we decide will apply to other rules as well, like the Addict's rule to stop when he can't think of anything to do.

I dearly hope that does not ever happen. If the Addict has a day with nothing to do for his addiction, you messed up giving him the day.

Not necessarily. It could be that we thought there would be a lot to do, and then after an hour or two it turns out there's nothing to do after all. What happens then? Do we score? Do we just ignore what we did?

Difficult questions.

I think the ideal would be to transition what's been done into a different character -say, the Worker. Give the Worker credit for what's been done, even though that was not the intent, and let the Worker write an opening statement late.

I don't know, it's a messy solution.

Do you have a better idea?

No. Okay, let's word the rule.

"If a rule requires that the day be immediately ended, but the day has not yet reached its minimum length of three hours, then a conference will immediately take place. During this conference, the Thinker will decide on a different character (or a different version of the same character) for whom the activities engaged in so far would not be out of character, but who would not (unlike the replaced character) be required (for whatever reason) to end the day yet. After the conference, this character will immediately write a new opening statement, which will overwrite the previous statement, and that character will take full responsibility for the entire day including the other character's actions. Use of this (rather obscure) rule must be listed in the notes for the day."

Perfect.

I should note that we have never encountered such a situation yet.

We may have. We may have forgotten about these situations because the default behavior up until now was to ignore activities that didn't neatly fit into the Rules. I'm not saying we did that, I'm just saying that if we did there would be no record and I for one wouldn't remember it.

Very well.

Can I go now?

Plans for February

Summary
The Person
Plans for February

The Person

Now that that's settled, the big question: what are we doing in February?

What's the question? January was excellent at getting things done, and we should have the same attitude going forward. Myself, the Programmer, and the Addict. We can throw out the Person, he wasn't adding anything. And then the Explorer giving some support when called for in the conference room. That's all we need.

Unacceptable.

I'm afraid I'm on the Musician's side here. We limited ourselves to just the four of you (Person, Programmer, Worker, Addict) for January.

For the record, I didn't do much. There weren't any significant challenges.

It was for one month. Now that month is over, and we need to go in the opposite direction. "I Am Not...", as we say.

The direction we were going in made sense. And it makes even more sense with the deadline for Gamer Mom being just one month away. The productive lifestyle is what we need here.

No.

What happens to our creativity, to our restless spirit, when we're stuck in a little cage for month after month?

It's really not so bad.

Worker, you are not going to pull us into yet another argument about productivity. We've been over this ad infinitum. You know the rest of us will never agree with how you see things, so just do your work and don't try to push your values onto the rest of us.

We have one month. One. That's not a lot of time. We need to average around six hours a day on Gamer Mom, at least.

And then what happens next month? What happens the month after that? There will always be important things to be doing; the question is whether we can maintain a complex personality despite that.

The purpose of a "complex personality", as you call it, is to get these things done. Or was that all a lie? You said we needed to be a bunch of different personalities, because no one personality could do everything you've planned. You've said this many times, in fact. So either cut the bullshit and admit this is for no good reason at all, or let us get things done which you've claimed is the entire point of this silly little game.

There's something beautiful about the multiple personality system. It's so different, and interesting.

And occasionally helpful, but let's not get so carried away that the multiple personalities become an end unto themselves.

 

 

I hear what you're saying.

And of course you'll have yet another month where the Worker gets most of the time, and I am left behind as though I'm not an important part of the character.

No. Whatever happens this month, you will have a place in it. The Gamer as well - I'm not going to ignore him just because he doesn't complain as often as you do.

Thank you.

One. Month.

I can work on the game. So can the Explorer.

Not nearly as efficiently as myself and the Addict.

Don't forget the rule that you're not to expect things which go out of character, like telling the Explorer that he must get such and such work done or else.

But I want to work on the game.

This minute, maybe that's true.

Well, maybe not this minute. It's raining outside.

That's exactly what I was going to say - you don't necessarily hold on to interests. You're like the anti-Addict.

Maybe the Explorer can be left out.

What? You told me I could have the first day of the month, and write comments into the Gamer Mom script!

I did tell you that.

We can certainly get more done without him. Same goes for the Gamer.

See if I help you again.

Gentlemen, let's not argue.

I'm no gentleman.

Be that as it may, it's not helping to get angry at each other. Explorer, the Worker has a point. This month may need to be almost as hectic as last month.

Almost? Try a lot more. Last month we didn't care about deadlines. This month, deadlines are everything and that's my time to shine.

Okay. I've been thinking about what you said -"cut the bullshit or let us get things done"- and I have a possible answer for you. Let's say we spend all month on Gamer Mom, at the expense of everything else.

As we should.

Let's say we spend all month on Gamer Mom, at the expense of everything else. Then what?

Then we work on the next thing.

Which is what?

I have no idea. Isn't it your job to figure that out?

It is. And I don't want to reach March 5th with no new opportunities, no ideas, no energy, and just a lingering obsession with this one game.

There are worse things to be obsessed with.

This is your argument? You can figure out what's going on in a week or two after that. There's no problem there. But you know what would be a lot worse? Reaching March 5th and not being finished with Gamer Mom. On March 5th, Kyler is no longer available. If there are nodes which haven't been drawn, those nodes will need to be cut out.

Oh my god no! You can't cut nodes out! The script is so elegant, it won't work if you cut anything out.

But what's better, sacrificing some pride and chopping it down, or not having it come out at all?

Not having it come out at all. Maybe in a year or two, Kyler will be available again, and then we'll release it and it'll be as good as it's supposed to be.

Stop! Stop.

We are not cutting anything, and the game will be ready for release on March 5th.

I propose a compromise.

 

The second half of the month -that is to say the 14th and later- will all be the Addict.

The Addict isn't allowed to have full-time control.

He is if he doesn't mess up. The day can just continue.

Not for two weeks, it can't. One week is the maximum.

We've done it before, with Ruddigore.

That wasn't a clearly defined character.

It was an Addict, pretty clearly.

Sure, but that was before the Rules. Now the Addict isn't allowed to have two days in a row. There need to be two other characters in between.

What is the reason for that rule, anyway?

To avoid situations like January 2011, where a project is over and we don't know what to do with ourselves.

That doesn't make any sense. If we're going to keep extending a day, how is that any different from having a lot of separately counted days?

We'll still have the burn-out next month.

(Which, just to remind you, is exactly what you were warning the Worker about a few minutes ago.)

Yeah. How does that work, exactly, that when I say the Addict should be in control most of the time you say it's stupid, but when you say the same thing suddenly it makes sense?

Because there will be more going on this month than just Gamer Mom!

Not for the second half, there won't. Not if the Addict wants to be able to look at himself in the mirror and not feel repulsed.

I am perfectly committed to Gamer Mom. Don't you worry about me.

The rule limiting the Addict is sensible. It prevents us from losing sight of what matters. Let's not ignore the spirit of the law, just because we've found a convenient little loophole.

The Addict is not guaranteed anything.

You just said he'd have the second half of the month!

Yes, but he still needs to earn it. There is that lovely little rule, which we brought up in the last section, saying that if the Addict can't continue doing what he's obsessed with he needs to end the day.

And then what? You let the Gamer and the Musician run loose, and to hell with Gamer Mom?

To hell with Gamer Mom.

No. No.

If the Addict can't continue, for whatever reason, we see whether a different character can take over.

If there's some other reason the Addict can't continue, like maybe there's something missing in our life and we need to fill that before we can continue, then we'll get whichever character it is that we need. Maybe the Musician, maybe the Gamer, maybe the Person, maybe myself.

No more than one day away from Gamer Mom, and then we give the day to someone who will be interested in continuing. Like you, Worker, or like the Explorer or myself or even the Person if Kyler is involved.

And that's two days, meaning we can resume the Addict. If he's up to it.

And if he's not?

Please. This is Gamer Mom we're talking about, I'll be up to it. This is all academic anyway, since I won't lose interest ever.

Of course not. But we need to plan for all possibilities.

We're not going to go past the one-week limit, are we?

No. After a week, we'll need to find some other outlet. I know the Programmer has a bunch of projects he's wanted to get to, as does the Musician and the Explorer.

I am in the middle of a lot of games.

Or the Gamer. You could even write a new Living In Hyrule post, it's been way too long since the last one.

Yeah, what are we planning for the blog, anyway?

None. Of. This. Matters.

Not your call, Worker. Not your call.

We can have the first official Dialogue, plus I'd like to write a new section of Rules for myself.

I'd like to write another post or two to "I Am Not Myself Today". Maybe one about structure.

Any other ideas?

Not yet. I'll think about it.

Good, tell me what you come up with.

Or I could just write it.

Or you could just write it, sure.

We have one month.

You have made that perfectly clear. Would you like to repeat a few more times? What's that, one month? One month? Just this month, and not next month as well? Maybe we can go until February of next year?

Don't mock me.

Then don't be so mockable. Yes, it's one month. Thank you, now stop annoying everyone.

Thank you for shutting him up.

Bleugh. For the first half of the month... I can't believe all that arguing was just about the second half... for the first half we'll do everything we weren't doing last month. But there's a twist: any day which is not the Addict (and this goes for the whole month) will be limited to eight hours.

What?!

Eight hours. You can do plenty in eight hours. This is how we're going to keep the energy high. Get on stage, do your bit, get off stage.

Okay. I can work with that.

Please, don't think you're obligated to use the full eight hours just because you can. If you're getting tired, stop. Score, take a nap, give it to the next guy.

Are the eight hours to be treated like a hard Rule, or is it just a suggestion?

Rule. Iron-clad Rule.

If you try to go over eight hours, I will kick you off. Just try me.

What if I'm in the middle of something?

Then you'll stop in the middle of something, and continue some other time. Maybe in March.

I don't like it.

Okay, but the next character will like that he'll have more time to work with. Dem's de breaks. If you're worried about going over, then aim for six hours instead of eight hours and you'll have plenty of time.

Time doesn't work like that.

Well, this month it will.

Ah, if only time were so malleable.

It is. Eight hours, strict limit. You start the day at 12:00, it'll be over by 20:00. Though really, be done earlier. It's just considerate.

I take it first activities do not fit into this counting?

No, they don't. But please try to keep the First Activities under an hour. Or if not, end the day that little bit earlier.

Or you can even continue your first activity into the time allocation table, if you like.

But not right away. You should continue the first activity only at the end of your day. Programmer, this is addressed specifically to you.

I have no idea why.

Yes you do.

Now then. Any questions about our grand vision for February 2012?

 

 

No? Excellent. Let's play!


2012, January 29th, 19:38 and 5 seconds

Yardena

I first met Yardena one Shabbat when she was staying by the Feldmans. (She's a good friend of Rachel's.) I enjoyed talking to her, because we have some shared interests -like acting, and the movie Singin' in the Rain. She joined our Dungeons & Dragons game, first taking over Tamir's character while he was away and later making a very complicated new character that she hasn't quite gotten a handle on yet. So I see her every few weeks.

During some D&D-related e-mails months ago, she asked (in Hebrew) what we were up to other than the game. I responded:
Well, right now I'm interrupting the first monthly meeting of my personalities to join this conversation. The others are going to be pissed at me, I'm always treating them like they're not real people. Last time I'm invited to run it, that's for sure.

Or were you asking more generally?
She clarified (Again in Hebrew, which she seems to be more comfortable with than English) that she was.
Adorable smilies, Yardena.

I make computer games, I write, I make music, I do web design, I entertain myself. I don't have any steady job, but I'm usually busy. I only have time to write all these e-mails today because of the meeting I mentioned. We didn't organize it very well.
Her response began with two smilies with hearts in their eyes:
thanks
bay the way... YOU SO COOL!
As I said, she's more comfortable with Hebrew. I try not to hold her writing against her. But how does one respond to something like that? I simply said:
Ummm.. okay. If you say so.
you do all that stuff - you know how to do all that stuff
and
YES IT IS SO BECAUSE I SAY SO
I think that pretty much sums up our relationship. She's very weird, in very different ways to how I'm weird, and she seems to not just respect oddness in its many forms but even admire it. With most people my unrepentant oddness is a liability. Even with some people who I consider to be good friends, I have the sense that my strange life choices are something they tolerate and are mildly amused by, rather than something they totally accept. So it's nice to talk to someone like Yardena, or Moshe, who sees me in a more positive light, even though it's sometimes embarrassing too because from my perspective I haven't accomplished any of what I'm aiming for yet.

I have to admit, I did wonder at first whether I should put aside my time-travel dreams (or the hope of getting as close as I realistically can to that) and figure on dating someone like her - someone who's not like me. I've never dated, partially because I'm too shy around women but mostly because I've never met anyone I consider to be worth dating. (I figure if I ever met someone worth dating, I'd push myself to get past the shyness.) I have yet to meet a person who meets these six criteria:
  • Asperger's Syndrome
  • Jewish
  • English-speaking
  • Accepting of my strange behaviors, like the multiple-personality system
  • Interested in men
  • Not already married or otherwise unavailable
If the person isn't interested in men, there's obviously nothing to discuss. Without English, it would be too hard for me to ever have a conversation. If I dated someone who wasn't Jewish, I'd be running into all sorts of social problems that I'd rather avoid. And if the person doesn't have Asperger's Syndrome, they're not like me and I'll always have the question in the back of my mind whether there was someone better.

My expectations are somewhat more specific than what most people are looking for. There probably aren't all that many Jewish English-speaking Asperger women with a tolerance for experimental identities out there. So I've resolved myself to remaining alone. I can talk to myself, which is rewarding and keeps me focused. But I'm not planning for anyone else to figure in my life too prominently. The more I listened to Yardena talk about herself, and understood how completely different her personality is to mine, the less the idea of dating someone like that seemed appealing. How long-term can a relationship be with someone who's not like me? I barely understand people who aren't like me. But I do enjoy talking to her, which may be all she had in mind anyway. I'm not used to being around people as shamelessly extroverted as Yardena, so I'm not sure whether the little things she says under her breath like "I love you." are totally serious, or (more likely, I think) exaggerations of casual fondness. She does have a marked tendency for drama.

The last Dungeons & Dragons session was at Yardena's apartment in Jerusalem. I had minimal contact with Yardena during the game: her character Lillia wasn't playing a prominent role in the story, and I had my hands full trying to maintain my character Len's diplomacy and leadership in a difficult situation involving impetuous teammates who dislike her, an opposing army she'd formed an uneasy alliance with, and a disapproving god she worships. Diplomacy does not come naturally to me, and it takes my complete and continuous concentration during the sessions to play Len at all competently. That it was in Yardena's apartment was not a particularly relevant part of the experience for me. After the game, Yardena said that as far as she remembered I don't have a religious problem with touching the opposite gender, so could she hug me? I said "Sure.", still bewildered by the question, so she hugged me fondly while I stood stiffly trying to decide whether it made sense to reciprocate or not. Then I pondered my stance on hugs, and Yardena was apparently watching me at that time because she asked me if something was wrong. "No, I'm just waiting to leave.", I said. And so I was, because Harel and Rachel were about to take me back to Beit Shemesh with them. But before I left, Yardena told me she'd come to see The Tenth Man, which Harel and Rachel had told her good things about. I was not willing to confirm that it was a good show (especially knowing that the tickets were too expensive), but she was very insistent that she would be coming anyway.

That night, I sent her an e-mail:
I hope this sounds like an odd question, but was I rude to you earlier? If so, I apologize. If not, never mind.
If I didn’t know you it would have been perceived as rude. But since I do know you, and know what a wonderful person you are (the fact that you sent this mail proves it) I wasn't offended. I generally hug people I consider my friends.
Okay, just checking. I'm not used to affection from other people, and I didn't know what the proper response was.

I was expecting to see her in the audience of the Wednesday show, a mess of a play which I think I gave a particularly strong performance in. When she didn't show up, I figured she'd decided quite sensibly that 80 shekels was too much to pay for a show that might be awful. But the next day, as I was standing around by the stage I heard "Mory!" and there was Yardena waving at me. I didn't recognize her for a few seconds because she was in the lighting booth and I didn't expect to see her there. I went up to talk to her, and she explained that when she'd asked Rafi if she could get a cheaper ticket, he'd told her she could be in charge of the sound for closing night and watch the show while she did that. We chatted for a bit, she wished me luck ("-I mean, break a leg!"), and I went backstage to get ready.

As we were waiting for the show to begin, my mother stormed into the backstage area angrily demanding that I tell whoever was in charge of the sound to play my piano improvisation, instead of whatever songs they were playing. This shocked me: I rarely think of her as being so similar to her nasty mother, who thinks she is morally entitled to infinite amounts of pride from her family and lashes out when anyone denies her that even in tiny measures. (My mother is going to America soon for my non-religious cousin's bar mitzvah a few Shabbats from now, and you can bet her mother is going to make the day a living hell for her because "it would make her happier" if her daughter didn't follow the Shabbat restrictions.) Yardena apparently had nothing to do with the music not playing - it was far back in the playlist, so that it would only play if we started late. Anyway, the play went fine, and Yardena came backstage to congratulate me. She hugged me, and I hugged back because I'd decided that all things considered, hugs are nice. We started talking about the play, and my mother snappily interrupted that we were getting a ride and couldn't let the driver wait. (This, despite the fact that the driver was in the middle of praying in the hall.) So Yardena and I agreed to talk later by phone, and I got ready to leave.

At home, my mother asked me quietly: "Who was that woman you were talking to? Is she... your girlfriend?". (She must have seen the hug.) Embarrased by the question, I began babbling like an idiot: "Girlfriend? Me? Pfft! You think I would have a girlfriend? She's a friend. You don't need to get your hopes up, she's not my type." All I meant by "not my type" was that she doesn't have Asperger's Syndrome, so my mother's reply surprised and intimidated me: "I don't have my hopes up, she's really not your type at all. For a lot of reasons.". "What does that mean?", I demanded, "What sort of person do you think she is?!". "I don't think she's any kind of person", she answered, "She seemed like just a person.".

Yardena called me later, so I went outside (to not wake up my parents) and talked to her for two hours at which point her cell phone battery died and we both agreed it was too late to keep talking. It was a good conversation. She told me what was wrong with my performance, gave me really good ideas about what I could improve, gave me some compliments which frankly I haven't earned yet, etc.. I don't have a girlfriend, but I do have people I enjoy talking to.


2012, January 17th, 15:35 and 41 seconds

The Tenth Man

After two and a half months of rehearsals, Paddy Chayefsky's The Tenth Man is going on stage at Ramat Rachel in Jerusalem. I am playing Arthur Brooks, a troubled agnostic Jew who's pulled off the street by a bunch of strange old men who want a minyan in their dinky little shul in 1950s New York. It's a darn good script, letting some profound ideas emerge from within the banal details of everyday Jewish existence. The question is whether we can do it justice. There will be just four performances in this venue, and after each one I will post how it went. If you're looking for a diplomatic "It was nice." bit of fluff, there's an insubstantial interview Harel did with our assistant director Jeremy that may be more up your alley. I'm going to tell you what I actually think of how we're doing. (Click a date to see its post.)

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April 9

Performance


2012, January 21st, 18:40 and 19 seconds


When I left the house to get to the show, my father said to me: "Enjoy yourself! That's the most important thing.". And I responded "It doesn't matter if I enjoy myself. The important thing is that I give a good performance.", which should give you some sense of where my head was at. It's not that I was nervous -I knew exactly what I'd be doing, in broad strokes and in tiny detail- it's that the play was an obligation and little more. Since I have put myself into this play, after making a small name for myself in other shows (The Matchmaker and Ruddigore), I need to give a performance on the level I've set for myself. I have the utmost confidence in my ability to entertain the usual audience for Jerusalem amateur theater, who are generally surprised and delighted when they encounter even the tiniest hint of competency. (They have seen too many shows which lacked this.) I have less confidence in my fellow actors. My preparation in the day before opening night involved going over the play in abstract enough terms that if they should mess up every line, I'd still be able to convey Arthur Brooks' character arc to the audience and give the play some emotional weight. In this sort of situation, there's not much hope of enjoying the process. But when I participate in amateur theater, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at having to work with amateurs.

When Lulu showed up, I chastised her for her quote in the Jerusalem Post article: "It’s not a very easy role to relate to.". When she defended herself, saying that she'd said lots of things and the journalist had for some strange reason picked that statement, I explained that I was jealous she got to be quoted, when I would have had something more interesting to say. I like to think my quote would have been: "It's a portrait of Judaism in galut which is as relevant today as it was in the 1950s. I don't think Paddy Chayefsky was a very religious man, but he saw something sad in the deterioration of Jewish spirituality. The generation that still remembers the traditions is dying out, and all their experiences have been reduced to silly anecdotes. Meanwhile the new generation is not interested at all, because they see all of Judaism as a bunch of archaic superstitions. The leadership is entirely disconnected from the people, and aren't doing anything to right the course. What the play is saying, I think, is that underneath all the tedious little details of Jewish life there's something that's worth preserving.". But the chance has gone, and all because I didn't make conversation with the pretty young woman at the dress rehearsal. I tell you, my lack of social initiative is going to get me in trouble some day.

My costume consists of my father's shirt, my father's shoes, my father's socks, my father's watch, my one pair of black dress pants which I bought at a store my father brought me to (and which I only wear because my father likes to see me in "Shabbat clothes" on Shabbat), and a black necktie Rafi gave me which neither he nor Jeremy (the director and assistant director, respectively) actually like but which is apparently the only black necktie they could find. To me it just looks like a necktie - what do I know about clothes? I tied it five times (I read the Wikipedia page for "Windsor knot" to prepare -it's really not as complicated as I thought, it's just a sequence of hand motions like solving a Rubik's cube.), and each time it was either slightly too long or slightly too short. Finally I got it right and Jeremy said it looked better than it had in the past. Good. Jeremy is overly diplomatic, being a politician, but he does have opinions on everything and I respect that.

Somehow the topic came up of the April performance, and Jeremy started explaining that when Rafi left and he took over things would be a little different. He told me I'd get a line put back in which shouldn't have been taken out in the first place, knowing that would make me happy. I said he was like a parent trying to gain his kids' favor to make sure he was the "preferred parent" in advance of the divorce. He didn't care for that comparison. I still maintain that it is a wonderful analogy. Right now, he is winning that competition for me. He missed a bunch of rehearsals, but when he showed up his directing was solid. Rafi's been doing all the work for the play and always keeps his cool, but he's made a lot of missteps. In retrospect, I wish that rather than starting his rehearsals with demoralizing improv games, he had instead challenged the actors to be faster and more comfortable with their lines.

As I got into costume in the bathroom, I heard Neil going over one of his monologues in the next stall. "It needs to be faster.", I called over. "Even here, I can't get quiet?", he said, and I simply reiterated: "I hear how you're doing it, and it's too slow.". Ten seconds later, Neil started over more quietly but at the same speed.

From backstage before many people had started arriving, I heard Harel in the lobby and came out to say hi. "You look like an adult.", he said, with me dressed in the coat and hat I enter with. I attempted a few different "little kid" reactions to this sad statement, and Harel interrupted: "There's only so much you can do, dressed like that.". I turn 24 next month. How did I get so ridiculously old?

On stage after the warm-ups, Rafi continued a tradition of his by giving each of us lottery tickets. It has something to do with having good luck, or something. One person won five shekels, and another won twenty. I refused my ticket: I do not care one bit for gambles. Gerry handed me my kippah: "Is this yours?". "Why do you have that? That was with my stuff!", I demanded. "I've been stealing your things.", he said, and I wasn't sure whether he was joking. At a different point, Lulu joked that she was going to change some of her lines and I should just run with it. Again, I didn't know whether she was serious or not until she reassured me. There are things which one does not joke about!

Lulu told me she heard my musical improvisation from a few days earlier (which I basically sent out because with so much frustration during the dress rehearsal, I wanted to feel like I had something I could actually make good. It wasn't very good, though.) being played as part of the music when the audience came in. I hoped Rafi had used the second improvisation I'd sent him (recorded after he expressed an interest in using the music) rather than the first. The first (fifteen minutes long) was a bit of a mess, and the second (nearly twelve minutes long) incorporated a lot of tunes from the davening, to set the mood. I put my ear to the door, but I couldn't hear the music.

I stayed in that position by the door when the show started. While everyone else was either on stage or having whispered conversations in the lobby (which becomes an extension of our backstage once the audience is inside), I stayed on my own with my ear to the door, listening in for anything I could use as material for this blog post. I heard how the first few lines were delivered, and I ran to Jeremy to say that it was too slow. "When they were just speeding through lines in the last rehearsal, it was really entertaining. They need to be going faster.". The impression the script is supposed to create is that all these lines are very lightweight and trivial, all just forming an atmosphere of mundane realism which gradually reveals the complex truths underneath it. Of course, Rafi had gone in entirely the other direction with the... um, direction, pushing us toward more theatricality. (I went along with this direction by running with his oft-repeated mantra of engaging the audience directly, and making that character/audience dynamic a major part of my performance.) But even Rafi had agreed with me that the beginning of the play works much better when it's fast. Jeremy listened to my criticism and nodded diplomatically.

I ran back to the door and heard the audience laughing hysterically. Even though in my opinion the beginning of the play doesn't work at all if it's paced wrong (and my family, who were in the audience, had a similar impression), the audience was eating it up. They loved all the little bits of banter between the old men. Marvin, who has a tendency toward hammy performances, was having a blast performing for them. One line which he slightly reworded to make it funnier got a huge burst of laughter, and when the laughter died down he gave the second half of his reworded line and got just a chuckle because the audience had already gotten the joke and didn't need it explained to them. (I just sent him an e-mail asking if he could cut out the second half. He probably won't, if only because it's a cue-line for someone else. It should really be the directors telling him, rather than me.)

Some lines were missed, some lines were said twice, some lines were said out of order, but basically the play held together and the audience enjoyed it. Meanwhile I stood outside staring at my reflection to get my not-quite-smile face right, a nuance which I've spent a lot of time practicing at home but which I wasn't sure if I was doing right with the make-up covering my face slightly changing the way it felt. I've never done "subtle" before, and it's trickier than it looks. I wish I could see a video of my performance, so that I'd know whether I took it too far during Act I (which I've decided needs to be much more restrained than the rest of the play). I know I have a tendency to go broad, afraid that the audience won't "get it" otherwise, but I think I was okay here. I hope. I'll try to do less next time.

As I'm on stage I'm kind of lost in my character's own little world, so it's hard for me to know how anyone else was doing. I do know, however, that Marvin ad-libbed at one point "Well, first of all, Foreman's gone alreaady. My name's Zitorsky. Second...", because (as Marvin explained later) Avraham had been using the wrong name so many times when talking to him. That was kind of jarring. Avraham apparently also called Foreman's son Foreman's father several times, which is a mistake he'd been making in rehearsals a lot. "It's always the same problems!", he lamented after the show when it was pointed out to him.

But I think I was fine. I got in all the little nuances I'd planned out, including one bit where I pull my neck backwards as I'm talking which feels really awkward, but doing it to a mirror told me that it's what I need to be doing there and I'm not one to argue with a mirror. Actually, no, I am exactly one to argue with a mirror, so it's good that I listened to my notes instead of trying to act naturally. My Act I monologue was the best it's been, with the presence of the audience pushing me to find new levels of energy. But there were a few points, during the show, where I needed to change the staging slightly, on the fly, to less than ideal situations because the other actors weren't standing where they were supposed to.

I will always remember Gerry as the waiter in The Matchmaker who on one performance forgot his cue to come on stage and left a thirty-second silence. Here he is well-cast as a confused old man. He has few lines, which he usually says wrong, and he's always complaining that his role is too small. My only interaction with him is a bit of goofy staging which Rafi threw in to keep the audience amused, which goes very much against the tone of the play. (When I asked him why he did that, he said: "Something you should know about me is that I always add some craziness into the plays I direct.".) This time Gerry forgot the second half of the little wordless scene between us, and started uncertainly heading back toward his seat early. It's just as well- the gag goes a bit too far for my liking.

There's one sequence toward the end of Act I which has caused so much confusion that on the 17th and 18th we spent hours running through the lines on those pages repeatedly. I'd asked Rafi if we could spend three hours straight just on those pages, but after going through several times Rafi was getting restless and wanted to move on. Now, I know what is necessary for memorizing things, and I know that just because you're able to get through it once or twice it doesn't mean you're ready to perform it. We needed to go through short sections over and over again, because if you do five pages of script together it is too much to process. This is also why I was frustrated that Rafi insisted on doing full runthroughs of the play for all of January, instead of focusing on the scenes that desperately needed focusing on. The issue with the specific sequence at the end of Act I is that it's chaos on stage. By design there is no rhyme or reason to the sequence of lines- everyone is talking at the same time, following fractured trains of thought, and the sense the audience is supposed to get is that everything is moving too fast for anyone to keep under control. In retrospect, we should have seen that there would be a problem there, though I for one did not anticipate it. The actors weren't slacking - they were trying to learn their lines, and they just barely almost knew them. So when we reached that section, rather than trying to maintain the energy on stage I tried to help the other actors get through the scene. This was probably a mistake. I should have barreled through, running over everyone hesitating to remember their lines, and creating the kind of chaos that the scene demands. But instead I played nice, and while almost every line was in there the scene was completely dead on an emotional level, and certainly did not serve as the climax of Act I it's meant to be. I waited seconds (which might not sound like a lot, but it's a lot) for actors to remember their lines, and I overplayed certain emotions because I knew they would remind Joel what his next line was supposed to be and I didn't want him to miss them. I did get every little nuance of my intended performance in there, because it's a lot easier to hit all the beats when you're going in slow motion. But I don't think the audience got much out of watching some old men try and eventally succeed to remember their lines.

My scenes with Lulu went well. Due to the awkward staging, I was never able to actually look at her when I was talking to her, or the audience wouldn't see my face. So I didn't notice that (as she pointed out later) her eyes were literally pink and tearing up the whole time, either because of the make-up or the lights or something. She covered for it well, and if I didn't notice anything was wrong I doubt the audience did.

Later in Act II, there was an awkward pause when Joel forgot a cue. I didn't know whether I should skip to my next line, because I didn't know how much exactly that would be skipping. But after what felt like ten seconds of nobody doing anything at all on stage, I just went for it and the play continued. Apparently I only skipped three or four lines, thank God. I don't actually know every other actor's lines in the script to know when it's okay to do something like that.

Zusha left out a few lines, including my favorite line in the play: "Distribute the macaroons, that all may share this exalted day!". But that's understandable, under the circumstances. The excellent actor who was cast in the part quit two weeks ago because his mother in America was sick. The directors couldn't find anyone to replace him, so Zusha, who has little experience and had been given a tiny part, took over and Jeremy took Zusha's old part. What Zusha did in a week and a half was astonishing. Not only did he remember the vast majority of his lines, but he did a very good performance with it, which (together with a lot of make-up) almost made up for the fact that he's 50 years too young for the part. Word is going to get out of how much he was able to do with so little time, and he is deservedly going to be getting much bigger parts from now on.

During a particularly sentimental scene for my character, I heard a loud snort from the audience. I recognized that snort instantly: it was my father. I think I was doing a fine job with the character in that moment; he just doesn't like sentimentality. Maybe I should do that part better.

The rest of the play was pretty solid. Still too slow, but people remembered their lines and the emotion was carried by my big scene with Lulu which went quite well indeed. The one problem, which Rafi informed me of after the show, was that I wasn't pausing for the audience to laugh. I guess I got carried away. I'll have to be careful of that. At the end of the show, a coat I was supposed to get wasn't where it was supposed to be, so I awkwardly ad-libbed that I couldn't find it. It slowed down the play a bit, but I don't know what else I could have done. Regardless, the play ended on a fairly strong note, I think.

After the play, I asked what people thought of the show. I didn't hear anything particularly negative, which tells me nothing. I was happy that Harel and Rachel said they liked it, even though Rachel must have already known what was going to happen: when I told her the basic synopsis of the play months ago, she immediately guessed exactly what the ending was. Harel said there were moments during my monologues where it seemed like I was talking about myself, rather than the character I was playing. I don't know which parts he was referring to, but he may be right - there's a lot of Arthur Brooks in me, and there's a lot of me in my Arthur Brooks. The pad and pen I use as a prop in the show are the pad and pen I use to record all the details of my life for my performance reviews. And I've caught myself using certain Arthur Brooks mannerisms in my own life. Plus, there's the fact that I normally speak in pompous monologues. So no question, I understand what I'm doing here. I will be glad to be done with this character, though. He is depressing.

Minutes after the show, my father took the initiative to put together a minyan in the lobby for Maariv. Normally I'd avoid davening, since I don't see the point in speaking to an abstract entity, but I'm a sucker for symbolism. The meaning inherent to putting on this particularly play -about not being able to get a minyan together- in Jerusalem is not complete until we see that we're not like that here. In our production we expect that everyone in the audience knows a lot about Judaism, and so it's a lot more heart-warming than cynical in this group.

2012, January 25th, 01:54 and 22 seconds

I can't take it any more. I just want out of this stupid, stupid play.

Excuse me? The script is excellent.

For all that's worth.

It doesn't matter whether it's good or not. You need to do your job regardless.

Right. So maybe I'd feel considerably better about this if I hadn't botched "the job", as you put it.

Did you not remember to keep your expressions restrained?

I didn't remember much of anything.

Please don't say you forgot your lines.

I didn't forget my lines, I just... agh.

Talking will help.

I have no motivation.

That should work for the character, shouldn't it? He has no motivation either, at the start. Just be yourself, and see what happens.

Maybe. It certainly felt forced today.

Let's get some semblance of order to this conversation. Now, we need to build up motivation for the next performance. So the way I see it, putting ourselves into a grouchy mood is counterproductive. We need to be happy about what's going on, so that tomorrow evening we can get out there and do a good job, like we did on opening night.

People are coming to see tomorrow's show. People I know, I mean.

I'm sorry, I don't exactly understand what went wrong tonight. Did you take my advice of aiming for naturalism?

Who can do naturalism, when I'm not getting anything from the other actors?

Please, don't blame them. This is between me and myselves.

No, it's not. We can't just ignore everyone else, we need to react to what they're doing.

And if they're not doing anything we can work with?

Please don't blame them.

Oh, fine! I admit it! I suck. I've always sucked, and it comes out now.

We don't suck.

I do. I suck. We suck. I obsessed about the particular positioning of my face-

Oh no.

Yeah. Maybe naturalism is a good idea.

Maybe, maybe not. I don't know if losing control is necessarily the right approach.

Let me ask, since no one else is, are we actually going to be posting this conversation? I ask because there's really not much time until tomorrow, and I don't see anyone taking charge and writing up some post. So that must be the plan.

Shh. We need this to be authentic. Stop being meta.

I'm just saying, maybe we should spell out what happened.

I suck, is what happened.

Oh fine. This is something I do, talking to myself because no one else cares quite so obsessively, yadda yadda yadda. There are a bunch of personalities - Explorer, you're just going to put a character list up, right?

The same one from the last post.

Fine, so there's no point talking about it.

I meant we should say what happened tonight.

I suck! I suck I suck I suck! How many times do you want me to say it?

That's not true. You did a good performance on Thursday. Or rather, the Addict did a good performance. Where is he?

We should get to work on the game right away. The play's a loss, but at least we can use these hours at home for something. We're halfway through the game, and we just need to keep working at it.

Yes. This makes sense. Enough time on the Person's moping, let's get something done. Either that, or just go over the lines of the play, but the game would fit the whole "balance" idea for the month.

Forget balance. And Addict, you're not who we need. I know I told you we might be able to work on the game this week, but that was when I assumed we'd be able to crank out good performances without trying. Maybe that attitude was to blame. We're not a good actor naturally. We need to work at it.

Our instincts are fine.

We should go with those.

I don't know, we'll need to figure that out. But we'll need the Addict in here, because I don't want a negative attitude. Tomorrow is going to be great, the final performance is going to be great. We need someone to take over those days who understands that.

I think it's a mistake to neglect the game. The play is not one tenth as important as the game.

My god, you're just like Shai! He didn't cut off my line, leaving me to do a solid thirty seconds of adlibbing apparently without him noticing that he was not saying his line which he was supposed to say, and when I confronted him about it backstage he simply didn't care. He said to me "In the grand scheme of things...", and I said he should take it more seriously, and he told me to get a life.

This story does not matter.

What? He treats the play like that, and it doesn't matter? That is exactly what is wrong with the play- people who are just not determined enough to do anything with it.

Like you, today, from the sound of it. What a hypocrite.

You take it back. I was doing my best.

It was an overly controlled performance. Be real.

That's not what we practiced!

Okay, okay. We need the Addict here.

Yes.

The other Addict.

Hey.

Nice color.

Here is the problem. How do we give a performance-

I've already answered this question. Don't act so much. You can work in little bits of theatricality here and there, but for the most part you need to just trust that we're similar enough to Arthur Brooks at this moment to make it work. The aggravation doesn't hurt.

It does hurt if it decreases energy on stage. Let's go through this beat by beat. We came in with too controlled a half-smile. Don't get it just right, just act polite while you're actually miserable.

This is actually going to be you, tomorrow. That's why I'm calling you in here.

Okay, I'll act polite while actually being miserable.

It won't help. Don't you understand, they're recording tomorrow! And my friends will be there, and we can't risk it all on some artsy experimentation!

The logic is sound. Naturalism will make Arthur more relatable.

Oh my that's interesting. This can go together with what Rafi said about talking to the audience.

Let's just go through the problems. First we came in, thinking we knew what we were doing. We never want to do that. Then we ran through the lines because we had this idea of "fast=good", which isn't right at all. Yes, everyone else is slower than molasses. But we need to feel it out.

Again, it'll be you.

Please don't bother me with pronouns, who cares.

So we just sped through the lines, not feeling the meaning behind them. If I see that I'm not feeling the lines, I will slow down and figure out what I am doing.

What, while the audience is watching?

Yes, while the audience is watching. Arthur Brooks is figuring out what his next move is, while the audience is watching. It's not a race.

It should be, the other actors would be more entertaining.

It's not a race. So that's already two fundamental problems in the first few minutes.

Then we exaggerated the smiles. We never want to do that. Keep the smile steady.

You said it needs to be naturalistic!

I don't know. Maybe.

Okay, this isn't helping. We need to figure out which part of the performance was the problem, and which should be kept.

I told you-

I know what you told me. And you're not an expert on acting, you just posed a theory.

The logic, as I say, is sound. If you didn't want to hear it, you didn't need to give me the day where I came up with it.

I don't think I'm going to go for really exaggerated facial expressions naturally.

That just comes of not being confident enough. I am a professional -by "I" I mean Arthur Brooks- and I don't care what anyone thinks. I mean, sure, I care what everyone thinks. But I want everyone to think I don't care what they think.

Is this really the personality you want controlling the Wednesday show?

Let's keep going through what happened. Came in too forced, sped through lines we didn't feel. Then we went too fast inside the rabbi's office, again with the speed issue. It's not speed so much as just phoning it in and not taking the time to care about the performance. That's the real issue.

And why should I care? It's not a good show!

But it can be.

No it can't! Even with all my mistakes, I was still...

 

Okay, I wasn't better than anyone else on stage, I admit it.

Arthur Brooks is a central character. He has a compelling arc, from not caring to getting slowly pulled in to rejecting all of it to being set free. Bring the audience on that journey, and no one else on stage matters. We can carry this fucking show all by ourselves.

Did you not hear me when I said how much we sucked?

Which is why we're going through, and figuring out what went wrong.

We were going through the motions of the phone conversation, rather than imagining someone on the other line. The audience can feel the other character through the phone, and when that character isn't there in my head it looks amateurish. Here there is naturalism, of a sort, but what I'm reacting to is someone who's only in my mind. That shouldn't be too much of a stretch for me. But today, it was a one-sided telephone call. We can't have that.

I think the end of Act I was perfectly adequate. No complaints there.

Wait, so is the idea that the Addict knows everything that happened with the Person? Because earlier, we were pretending we didn't know what happened at the play, so that the Person would have to tell us...

Shhh.

I mean, everyone else messed up their lines, but we covered for it as well as we could have.

So it's "we" now.

I don't care about pronouns! Shut up, we.

In Act 2 the staging was absolutely awful. We started leaning against the wall, and then very awkwardly moved to the front, drawing all the audience's attention and all so that Lulu could move to our right.

And we moved through the invisible wall at blackout! Rafi said not to do that.

Fine, I won't do that. The bigger problem was the improvised staging, and you know what? It is not my fucking problem where Lulu stands. If she's been practicing it a way that doesn't fit how we're doing it, then she'll have to figure out something else. I am going to stay by the door.

Not quite reassuring enough on "I'm sure he will be back soon.", the meaning of that's been lost. Then in the scene in the rabbi's office, I didn't care about what Lulu was saying, and that's a problem.

You know, you keep acting like it's so easy to pretend we're getting energy from the other actors that's just not there. Not once has Lulu spoken those lines there with any sort of passion, even though our next line is "It's nice to hear someone talk with passion about anything". And I get the desire for passion. It's why I don't have any healthy human relationships. But the passion was not there.

Yes it was.

What are you going on about?

The passion was there. And the lines were all there, and it was an excellent play.

What planet are you living on?!

Exactly the planet I need to live on, to make sure that tomorrow isn't like today.

Those poor people, who paid 80 shekels for this...

The people who come tomorrow will get their money's worth. That is my promise to them as an actor, and in order to do that I need to not be reliant on anything at all. This is going to be a great play because I fucking say it will.

Is it necessary to keep swearing?

No.

So we didn't listen to the analyst on the phone, and we didn't pay attention to the astonishing amount of passion in what Lulu was saying.

You can't even remember what she was talking about.

She was talking about her entire life, as one does. Moving on.

The monologue was bad.

What was bad, specifically?

We didn't feel it. Same problem.

Not easily fixed.

Very easily fixed. These are wonderful words we're saying, I plan to internalize them. And to hell with the pauses complaint. Let there be pauses, if I feel like there should be pauses. This is one of the best parts of the entire play, and I am going to give the audience every last drop of resonance from it.

So that was a problem. And then when Avraham cut my line off, I continued saying the line instead of running with it.

It's a very controlled line.

Avraham does not exist, to mess up that line. And the second half of that line does not exist, if it is interrupted. I'm going to flow with whatever happens, and find a way to make it a great performance instead of beating up both myself and the other actors if I miss some little detail we planned. The details don't matter. The broad strokes of the character gradually learning to enjoy life despite himself, that matters.

That's not what's happening in the play.

It's happening deep down.

Again, are we sure we want this guy controlling the day? I think I could do a competent job.

We don't want competent. Today was competent. It sucked.

Thank you.

It was good enough.

Thinker, do I have permission to kick Worker out of here?

No. But Worker, please keep your opinions to yourself.

Then there was the debacle with Shai.

Should we end the line there, or just keep talking endlessly until he deigns to cut us off?

What a ridiculous question. Shai, you see, does not exist.

Of course he doesn't.

No. Him not knowing his cue is not a problem in this show. If the line is not interrupted, it continued and ends: "anything like this nonsense. I mean, for heaven's sake, an eighteen year old girl. There should be laws against being like that, with such an innocent thing..." - ooh, you're right - it is fun to ad-lib! I'll have to do that.

That's just showing off. It could backfire.

It's me having fun.

A good idea. Anything that will make this fun is a good idea.

So yes, I'll give him a moment's pause at the end of the sentence but then I'm continuing and I'm never going to stop. An hour later, they'll still be watching me ad-lib, having the time of my life.

So you're not angry at Shai.

Furious. That'll be the fun of it.

This does not sound healthy.

Oh fine, I won't adlib anymore. It is awfully risky. And also unnecessary.

Come to think of it, it could also spark retalitation, where Shai just cuts me off at the beginning of my line.

Fine, I've already agreed I'm not doing that again.

Then there's the end of the scene, where I entered a bit too late. So just keep that in mind, while I'm running around.

The running was a bit lackluster, too. It doesn't matter if anyone's watching, I need to go back in out of breath.

After the intermission it was a bit of a mess - Zusha had read my blog post, and was so careful to get in the wonderful line "Distribute the macaroons, that all may share this exalted day!" -which did get one laugh, actually- that he threw off a bunch of other people... come to think of it, I don't know what that was all about. Was it him that forgot a line, or someone else messing up cues, or what? But I was fine there. Which begs the question, where did I go wrong?

Ah, yes.

Straightening.

It's so controlled, and all the real emotion which had been there was lost. It needs to be more real, while also being spoken to the audience.

That'll be tricky, but I'll work at it.

And if that line doesn't work, for whatever reason, I'll get right back into it with the line to Joel. Why didn't I do that today?

What went wrong?

Timing.

Yes, you're exactly right. Timing. That's it precisely. I've been afraid of giving that line too slowly. I'm going to take my time, it's a meaty line. That was the problem. And it was all downhill from there, because the emotion that was supposed to be underneath all the rest of the play was missing.

Do we really need to go through this entire thing? It would probably be better to let the Addict start a day, or even better to go to sleep early and start promptly tomorrow.

Let me just keep going for a bit.

The bit with Zusha was fine, the rest of the scene was okay, though I don't know about the ending position and the smile should not be brought back there.

But it's like a leitmotif, throughout the show!

I'm pretty sure you're misusing that word.

What, leitmotif?

Never mind.

I didn't get upset enough at Lulu.

I should have been really upset with her for not letting go of her silly little idea. Instead I forced the energy without the emotion, and the result was some annoying shrieking. Ouch.

Then the little face-off with the Cabalist was a little bit off, but really I think the rest of the play was okay, for my part. Get Act I right, and the rest will follow.

2012, January 26th, 02:50 and 1 second

Backstage during the intermission, I couldn't contain my excitement at what I'd just accomplished. I said to Rafi: "What do you think of how I improvised all of Act I?". He seemed unimpressed. "It was just a few lines.", he said. "No, it was all out of order so I needed to redo all of the staging and add in lines!". "Well, that's why we trained you in improv!".

I have to admit, he had a point. I was so annoyed at all those little improv games, when we could have been focusing on all the fun little details and gotten the play under control. But here I am, after a show which went spectacularly off the rails in Act I (if proximity to the script is your measure), and I had an absolute blast. And so did the audience, all of whom seemed shocked when I said that what we were doing was not what Paddy Chayefsky wrote and what we practiced. This morning, I spent hours going over little details: refreshing the little details I'd come up with before, adding in new details. And on stage, all those details went out the window in a few moments of actors saying the wrong lines. And yet, it was a very good show. The energy was there. The characters, for the most part, were there. The humor was there. All we lost was all the details, and really, who cares about those?

When the show started, I had my ear up to the door listening to my music playing (which I am very proud of), so I heard how the play began. I ran over to Jeremy, who was still having his make-up done. And I said to him: "They're going faster! And it's especially going to be quicker because they're skipping half their lines!". He responded bitterly: "You should not be telling me this before the play's over.". "No, but the audience loves it! It's just inessential lines they're missing, it still makes sense.". He did not seem entirely reassured, but he should have. The play was working. And then of course Neil came in and slowed down the show, as he does. But the pace had been set. I tell you, when we reached the final scene the audience was totally engrossed in the story, you could feel the anticipation. Not bad for a bunch of guys who don't know their lines. I take credit for holding the thing together.

Here's what happened in Act I. I walked in, so happy to be on stage that I may have forgotten to do the little polite smile I'd practiced. But I was acting fairly naturally, so I had complete confidence that whatever I was doing (and I wasn't quite sure what I was doing) would work. I went off to the corner, and found that the door to the rabbi's office hadn't been closed. There was an insane girl on the other side of the door who I wasn't supposed to know about yet, and I was standing right in front of the door as it was open. And I figured, okay, this will be kind of funny for the audience. All I'd have to do to notice her (and send the plot off the rails) is glance to my right, but I'm so absorbed in my writing that I don't see it. Good, let them hold their breath for a bit. But then I remembered that Gerry was going to come over and try to get past me, and I had no faith in him to come up with some clever reason why he can't get past me even though the door was wide open. So I absent-mindedly closed the door without looking through - sure, it was awkward, but better some slight awkwardness than the entire show getting derailed.

So I was standing there, Gerry came in, forgot all the details of what he was supposed to be doing (a very simple bit of staging where he tries to get past me, and ends up silently fighting with me), but bothered me enough that I figured, okay, the audience is seeing Gerry's character being an ass so he's served his purpose here. And then the scene was supposed to move on with Joel coming in to get Gerry out of trouble, and starting to talk to me. Then I sit down (I'd arranged with the directors today that I'd sit in the back row because the other actors were always standing right in front of the seat I was supposed to sit in.), they talk about me for a bit, I ask to make a phone call, they direct me toward the rabbi's office, and then there's a whole bit I'd planned out where I reveal to the audience for a moment how miserable I am, before noticing the girl and recomposing myself, then slowly deciding what to do about her before sitting down and making a phone call. During this whole silent bit in the office, the audience is listening to Avraham give a monologue occasionally broken up by other characters reacting to him.

That's what's supposed to happen. What actually happened after Gerry's botched confrontation with me was an awkward pause, followed by Avraham giving that monologue that was a few pages too early. Don't ask me how it happened, I was writing away and couldn't tell you. But it happened, and I started writing in my pad (without changing my facial expression): "How the heck are we going to get out of this?". Thank God when Joel reached the end of the section, instead of reacting in horror to the realization that I was in the rabbi's office (which would have been horrific, because I was not in fact in the rabbi's office, but was still just wasting time by the door), he segued into his dialogue with me. I took my time with the lines, enjoying what I was saying. And then I was supposed to sit down, but all the seats were taken because everyone was in the staging for later. So I simply stood on the side, and continued the scene as though I wasn't meant to be sitting down. When I went into the rabbi's office, I skipped all the waiting and just jumped straight from beat to beat to beat without waiting for a cue. (The cue lines had already come and gone during the monologue.)

I perhaps took longer than I should have - it takes entirely too long to call a number on a rotary phone, when the entire audience is watching you and nothing else is happening on stage. But without relying on anyone else (because I understood what they'd done, and why they couldn't join in without making everything worse), I kept the play moving forward. I gave my phone-conversation monologue as I'd practiced, and it went well. Then I left the room to rejoin the other actors.

The play kept moving -don't ask me if it was on script, I was in my own little world- and then we reached the problem pages where no one ever remembers what they're supposed to be saying. I moved around the stage more (in patterns I had not planned out), to create a sense of movement despite the long pauses which I anticipated between the lines. I looked in at the girl, came out, and gave my line: "What have you been doing to this girl?", to which the response is supposed to be "The girl is possessed by a dybbuk.". But instead the reply I got from Avraham was "Nothing.". Ah, but I was ready for him! This is not the first time he's made this mistake, so earlier that day I decided what I'd do if he messed it up again. Without missing a beat, I responded: "What sort of nothing are we talking about, specifically?", which got him back on track and we continued. ...until Joel's line, which he confused with another line, so I cut him off with a line that related to what he was saying, and we kept moving from there.

Then I tried out a little bit of staging I'd come up with where I'm about to leave, and it didn't go quite so well because Joel, following me, had his back to the audience. I wasn't able to go as far upstage as I'd intended, for fear that his positioning would get even worse. Still, I think I gave the audience the impression that I wanted to get out of there, so as far as I'm concerned it was fine.

Then in Act II scene 1, in the part I have with Shai, he cut me off too soon (overcompensating for not cutting me off yesterday), and then tried to combine his two lines, so that I needed to cut him off, but it almost worked. Then Joel didn't come in on cue, and when I left the room he started saying his line while forgetting to enter the theater, before deciding to say the rest of his line inside to whoever happened to be there.

So this is the class of problem we're having. And yet, I legitimately think this was an entertaining show, if only because of what a strong reaction we got from the audience. Because the energy was there. If I'd waited for Joel to remember to come in, the show would have died a little there. But I didn't wait, I just kept the show moving and whatever happens happens. And yes, I am going to take credit for the show being at all watchable. If I hadn't planned on everyone else failing, if I didn't know and accept that that was an option, the show would not have been watchable even if I got in every nuance of what I'd prepared. I got in maybe 75% of what I'd worked on. And it was enough.

Here was my opening statement for the day, which will appear in the performance reviews at the top-right of the page as soon as this extended day is officially over:
"Paddy Chayefsky wrote a wonderful play. People are paying good money to see that play. And I have the capability and determination to deliver as much of the brilliance of the play as I can manage. The other actors do not exist. The directors do not exist. All there is is Arthur Brooks and the audience, and they will enjoy the show."
This is what happened. I totally ignored Rafi's instruction of speaking toward the audience. I cut off other actors when I needed to, I covered for them totally messing up Act I, I rearranged all my staging around whatever nonsense they were doing. Arthur Brooks was Arthur Brooks, minus a few tiny nuances which weren't critical, and the audience enjoyed the show.

(There were no horror stories from the second half of the show, which is mostly driven by myself, Lulu and Zusha. We know what we're doing.)

And you know what? I enjoyed it as well. I am proud of this show we put on tonight. I am not proud of my fellow actors, with the exceptions of Zusha and to a lesser extent Lulu (Her crazy stuff is great, but I think there's a lot more she could be doing with the lucid parts.), and I suppose Kalman as well because Kalman's always reliable. But I am proud of my own contribution. And even though Rafi wasn't able to pull the play together exactly, he did at least show me how to have a good time in it.

2012, January 27th, 15:06 and 53 seconds

The last performance was very good. Not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, though in retrospect it could never have been a masterpiece with this direction, but it was actually close to script and there was energy and the sizeable audience was very responsive. My performance was a bit weaker than the third -the problem with extended days is that my enthusiasm gets diminished as they continue- and my first monologue with Evelyn was a little bit off. Plus, I got a bit confused at times and put my hands in the wrong direction or little things like that. But it was a pretty good performance, and everyone else was as good as they've been, except for Kalman who I think wasn't having quite as much fun with it as he'd had previously... you know what, none of this matters. It came together, most of the audience was satisfied, and now everyone's talking about the cast party which I'll probably blow off. I've got more important things to be doing now.

Now that I'm looking back, the play looks very different. It all looks poorly-conceived, even the parts that I thought made sense. When Rafi said he wanted me to have a prop, I pulled the pad and pen out of my pocket that I never leave home without, and he said that was great. It didn't strike me as odd to be writing things all the time, because this is what I do and I don't even think about it any more. All eight of my regular characters write down everything they're doing -even the Person who we really had to force into it. But apparently the way it came off was that I was a journalist of some sort, writing down notes about the people around me. This was completely at odds with the impression I wanted to give, that I was disinterested in everything around me. And I'm finding out now. Why am I only finding out now?

I'm remembering a lot of reservations I had about the show a month ago, which I pushed out of my mind because there was nothing I could do about them. I think the tone of our production was completely wrong, aiming for theatrical silliness instead of emphasizing the realism of the setting. I think the staging was haphazard throughout, and the characterization was barely there for most of the characters. I think it was much too slow, consistently - Arthur's scenes should have been the parts where the play slowed down to catch its breath, not the parts where the audience woke up because the play was suddenly moving more quickly. I look forward to watching the DVD at 1.5x speed, and seeing how much that improves the show.

Looking back, I can't think of a single decision of Rafi's (past the casting) that I agree with. There must have been one, but I've been running through the experience in my head and nothing's coming to mind. I think Rafi completely misjudged the tone of the script, I think he overestimated the competence of these actors left to their own devices, I think he was careless about important details, and I think he didn't push any of us (myself included) as hard as he should have.

I'm not sure I like what I was doing either. I had an idea I liked for the part, and Rafi said it didn't work. So I came up with another, more complex idea (It took me around five minutes to get into character before entering the scene.), I wrote out details for the entire script based on that idea, and Rafi wanted more of a straight man so I threw that all out and tried to be more normal most of the time, letting the depressed parts be little scary bursts of manic energy tht are then repressed. I don't think I pulled it off. I won't know until I see the DVD, but I retained a lot of little ideas from the first and second versions of the character, which probably don't fit anymore. I barely know who the character is, he's such a hodgepodge of different acting styles and plot functions. But I do know who he is as a person, I think, so maybe what I need to do for the April performance is to throw out everything I have worked on -absolutely everything- and just be on stage.

I suspect it'll be easier to be real when everyone knows their lines better (which Jeremy is going to focus on) and it's not just a big improv game. Maybe that's just an excuse. I don't know.

Thank God the play is over. ...sort of. Whatever.

2012, April 11th, 01:33 and 17 seconds

On Sunday night, I got fewer hours of sleep than I usually do. (Six, compared to the eight and a half that I need.) This was deliberate. Once Rafi left, I threw out my performance of Arthur Brooks and started over. Instead of being a surprisingly controlled person as I tried to portray in January, I played Arthur as a person who is coming apart at the seams. And I can do that more authentically when I'm exhausted. I also was careful not to drink too much on Monday, because it was a hot day and I wanted to be a little bit dehydrated. When Arthur comes on stage, he is not (as Rafi suggested) an enigma to the audience. He is hung over, he is miserable and he is cranky. I couldn't actually be hung over because I don't drink, so I hoped that tired and dehydrated would be enough.

I made a few other changes from the first time. For one thing, I wasn't using my regular voice anymore. This is because I found in rehearsals that when I did use my regular voice, I was apt to reuse other elements of my January performance: intonations, facial expressions, hand gestures. And this Arthur Brooks was an entirely different character: different physicality, different attitude, a whole different acting style really. None of what I had practiced all those times still fit, and slipping into those habits would damage the new character. Doing a different voice helped me get out of that mind-space. So I spent much of Monday, as I had a few days earlier, going over the voice I was going to use.

Well, no, that's a lie. I spent most of the day watching TV shows. I finished watching Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I'd been addicted to, and I watched Game of Thrones and Mad Men. But every now and then I'd talk to the screen, reacting to what had happened, in my Arthur Brooks voice. It's a gravelly voice, very tired and unmusical. But the problem was, when I chose to talk I accidentally used my natural voice half the time and needed to correct myself. I'm not used to using strange voices in normal situations. When I first woke up I spoke to my family in my Arthur Brooks voice and I think they figured I just sounded like that because I was tired, but later on in the day when I didn't feel that I had that excuse I reverted to my usual voice, and indeed when I came to the theater I was talking to everyone normally.

I showed up right on time (two hours before the show), which meant I was one of the first actors there. Jeremy asked me how I was doing, and when I said I was half-asleep, he said "Just the way I like it!". Dena did my makeup and did a very good job of it; then I waited around until the show. There was no warmup, which led me to worry that the actors would have no energy, but they started at a good pace.

I wondered whether I should abandon the voice, since I'd never gotten it right yet, but I decided to try for it anyway. This was a mistake: when I first spoke, I didn't get the right sound but just did my deep Ambrose Kemper voice from The Matchmaker. I suspect I spoke out of the side of my mouth at some point during this performance, though I am not aware of any specific point at which I did so, because that odd bit of facial manipulation was tied to that performance. Once I had committed to the voice, though, accident though it may have been, I knew I needed to keep going with it or disorient the audience. It sounded pretty fake, but it was better than discarding it in the middle.

All my staging was improvised, because Jeremy had not told me any staging and the staging from January didn't fit anymore. There are little things I regret doing -I moved at a few points when I should have stayed still, for instance- but for the most part I'm happy with how it worked out. I also improvised the details of my performance, playing off of what the other actors gave me, which was good because I couldn't have any idea what the other actors would be doing. They made some interesting new mistakes with the script, saying lines out of order and repeating lines and skipping lines and what have you. I tried to keep up with the changes, cutting people off when they were getting themselves into trouble and sometimes letting them cut me off when we could get away with it. (There were other times when I chose to continue saying my line even though someone was trying to cut me off, because the audience would have lost something important if I didn't get those words in.)

But you know what, almost everyone was on their game. It was quite a show. The audience clearly enjoyed it, and I don't think it was an unmerited reaction. And then they'll all have an anecdote to share about this performance, which is that Shai (with Jeremy's permission) added in a fake scene at the end to propose to his girlfriend in the audience. That's what people will remember, moreso than the problems like the unreasonably long pause between Act I and Act II (while the actors got their tefillin on onstage) or the places where people didn't know their lines. I think this was by far the strongest of the five shows we did.

And on that note, may I just say good riddance to this show. We finally got a good show out of it, but it took way too long and had too many frustrations without enough enthusiasm. For my part, I came up with a decent performance but if I had been at this state months ago (instead of being led down the wrong path and having to start over) it could have been something really special. I hope that is the last I will ever have to think about The Tenth Man.


two comments, the last one being anonymous
Harel said:

I love it!
It remains to be seen how tonight will go.
will it be ad-libbed?
will it flow?

I'm waiting to know!

by the way, it was weird and cool seeing our conversation from your perspective.

Anonymous said:

Finally!
Thanks for posting about it.. I wasn't sure that you would and I really wanted to know how it went.

Post a Comment




2012, January 5th, 15:40 and 07 seconds

View my slow crawl out of the gutter in December 2011Daily performance reviews for December 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for December 2011

Each day, I pick a character to play, follow the Rules for that character, and score myself on how I did. After the month, all my personalities get together to figure out where we stand and where we're going.
Character list

My personal goal in December was to be a more benevolent sort of organizer, not being too harsh about failures and trying to understand my companions better. It is not my place to say whether or not I was successful. What is clear from the performance reviews is that self-improvement was achieved in small measures, and that this self-improvement -like most self-improvement- was slow and gradual. Comparing the first few days of the month which dragged on pointlessly with the last days of the month which had a lot of energy and enthusiasm, it is clear that there has been a noticeable change. And though I said it was a gradual process, and this is true, we can also see one particular event in the middle of the month which turned things around. I am speaking, of course, of the conference room program, which we will be writing this self-meeting in for the first time today. The ability to speak to each other is key to having a successful relationship with each other. Without the ability for casual conversation, the Rules are abstract to the point of being academic for all except myself and possibly a few others. If we can actually talk to each other, as we would talk to other people via the internet, suddenly our characters and situations require significantly less suspension of disbelief to engage with. If there was one mistake I made this month, it was not prioritizing the conference room above all else -even Gamer Mom, which is by far the most important thing we're doing in the bigger picture. The conference room, in focusing our personalities and decision-making processes, allows us to achieve all the other things on the agenda. From the plan, there were two elements we did not get around to: creating marketable music and building a blog post to house debates between us. The other half of the plan -Gamer Mom and the play- were reasonably well-represented. If we had started the month with the conference room, I believe we would have dealt with all the bullet points on that list.

Not on the list, but also on display in the time allocation tables: The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks, which reversed the trends we criticized in the "Living in Hyrule" chapters (which we ought to get back to), the social protest and its continuing debate, and some confusion regarding the Person's place in the group, which was addressed in the last blog post(s).

I didn't get a single day.

That's true. But it's not like we haven't been playing piano.

We haven't exactly been pursuing it.

I would like to point out that this conference room program is incomplete. I raised some issues, and they have not been addressed. In addition, we have not implemented several simple but important features from the design document.

This will all be dealt with next month.

No, it won't.

There is absolutely no time, with everything we've got planned. There's a March 5th deadline for Gamer Mom, which means at least a week of being addicted to that. And the play The Tenth Man opens on the 19th, so we should have a weeklong addict for that as well.

We don't necessarily need to have a full week for each. In general, I'm hoping to have shorter days in January.

That might not happen. I don't like ending a day before I'm done.

If you're not done, but you've fulfilled your obligation to work on the challenge for three hours, end your day and come talk to me. I may give you another day right away to finish up what you're doing, or I may decide that something else is more urgent but you'll get another day immediately after that. I'm not looking to leave everyone with unfinished business.

That is a sensible recommendation.

I'd like to point out that through no intent on our parts, the month was fairly symmetrical. It's like the seventh 74.

"The first day is frustrating, yes, but the seventh is satisfying."

I was speaking more to the convenient coincidences behind that post, but yes.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

What the Explorer is saying is that when you put in an effort, it ends up more beautiful than you intended due to God's presence. It's a religious statement.

I wish you'd stop speaking in riddles.

I just explained what we were talking about.

You shouldn't need to explain anything. If there's something that's so obscure it needs to be explained, it probably shouldn't be brought up in the first place.

Bl'bah.

Whatever.

Rule proposals

Summary
Rule proposals
Plans for January

Summary

Okay, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. I'd like to propose a new rule for the Worker. He shouldn't be able to watch TV or read comics if it's not in the schedule. We've had too many occasions where there's a free minute somewhere, a TV show sneaks in and there goes the rest of the day.

"When adjusting the time allocated to passive entertainments in a previously-declared schedule, the starting time can be made later (but not past the declared end time), and the ending time can be made earlier (but not before the declared start time). However, no passive activities may be added to a previously-declared schedule in time which had not already been allocated for the purpose."

I'm not sure I even understand what that means.

Don't move lengthen or add time for comics or TV. If you want those activities, you're going to have to allocate them.

Oh, also: "The first activity of the day may not be a passive activity."

I have no objection to these rules.

Excellent.

And I'm glad you brought up first activities, because I'd like to change the idea there. I think what we've been doing is clumsy. There is no reason to declare a first activity both on its own and in the time allocation table. But I do like the idea of starting the day on the right foot. So let's separate the first activity from the time allocation table.

The question, then, is how that fits in with the strict list of what may be done outside of a day.

It's not outside a day, it's just a part of the day that's not in the time allocation table.

Though, since you bring up the permissible activities outside of a day: we need to add conversation as an acceptable unrecorded activity. That way the conference room becomes a safe place, where we're not worried about going over the mundane activities quote but we can take as long as we need to get our heads on straight.

It's a fine idea, but entirely separate from the matter of unrecorded first activities. I will need to consult The Rules.

Okay. This isn't complicated, but it requires some editing of the "Activities" section. I will do that now.

Done.

Could you also write up the other rules we discussed?

Of course.

Done.

Okay. Are there any other proposals?

I propose you let me have a day.

Any other rule proposals?

No?

We will move on, then.

Plans for January

Summary
Rule proposals
Plans for January

Rule proposals

Let's figure out what we're doing in January.

Well, it's obvious, isn't it? We've got the play. That is set in stone. And we've got Gamer Mom, which is also set in stone. That doesn't leave a lot of time.

How much time would you estimate we'll need on Gamer Mom?

200 hours, I'd say. 200 hours by March 5th.

That should be 100 hours in January, and 100 hours in February.

That seems sensible.

No, that seems ludicrous. This is the time to be dealing only with the play. How is it that two weeks before opening night, so many of the nuances of the character are just idle thoughts, and not actually represented in the performance? We have two very different ideas here: the man who is completely broken and fools the world into thinking he is okay, and the everyman who stumbles into a scene of weirdos and provides someone for the audience to relate to. The first is my take, the second is the director's. I need to find a middle ground, so that we can both be happy and have a play better than either one of us sees it. This takes a tremendous amount of time. This is the time to be committing all available hours to the play.

The play must not come at the expense of the game.

The play is just a hobby; games are our life.

Speak for yourself. I really believe The Tenth Man can be something special.

Of course. I wouldn't claim otherwise.

There really isn't much time.

13.5 hours in a day, 23 days left to January. That's a total of 310 hours we have to work with if we waste no time at all in an entire month. Which honestly, is impossible.

100 hours on Gamer Mom. And a bare minimum of 104 hours on The Tenth Man, if you do the math. That's assuming we spend no time on it at all at home, but just go to the rehearsals and performances and call the job done. So that leaves 106 hours left in the month. I can understand spending 30 more hours on the play. Maybe 40. But if we leave ourselves only 50 hours of recreation and unanticipated activities over the course of an entire month, we are going to go insane.

Insanity would work well for my performance of Arthur Brooks.

Tempting, but it would mess us up in the future months. Plus, it would harm the Gamer Mom work. So no.

Addict, would 35 hours be enough?

Three days' worth? Heck no.

Look, those are the numbers. So either we push some of the Gamer Mom work to February, which seems like a bad idea, or we don't go on stage with the absolute ideal performance we can possibly have.

That is unacceptable. Over the last two shows, I have acquired a reputation for daring performances. If I give a performance in The Tenth Man which is underachieving, I lose that.

I really think I can get audiences to like this unlikable person. I think I can have people rooting for the impossible romance he finds himself in, even though it makes no logical sense. Or maybe because it makes no logical sense. I can create a character who seems like he came from an entirely different world than these old men, a world which is more sensible and yet empty.

You'll have to do that in 30 hours.

Let's not jump to conclusions. We're talking about options.

What if it turns out that Gamer Mom is actually more work than the Worker anticipates? Kyler starts another project on March 5th, it never gets done, and everything gets derailed for years.

Nothing is getting derailed. Calm down, everyone. We can figure this out.

I feel that I am owed.

Then you will be sorely disappointed. January is not your month.

I have yet to have "my month". The implicit policy from the old blog of treating music as an addiction akin to TV is still in full effect.

There is simply no time, Musician. I have no days to offer you.

I am going to lower your score each and every time you have a day, Thinker.

Fine! I don't expect I'll have any days this month, either. We can only have people who will make progress on our practical goals. That leaves just the Addict, the Worker and the Person.

What? How did I get into the list of productive people?

These two activities have social implications. That means you're part of the discussion here. Musician, you are not. Go away.

You may regret this.

We did promise to work on the website for our shul. How is this not also "set in stone", as the Worker put it?

There's no deadline.

Then we should set a deadline, no?

Fine! The end of February. That's the deadline.

In the meantime, you can be helpful by figuring out how to resolve the two visions of Arthur Brooks.

I think I can handle that, thanks.

I think the Programmer's challenge-oriented approach might work better, sometimes.

I'd be willing to give it a shot. It does sound like an interesting problem.

Fantastic! Then we have four characters, who will be the only ones in January.

A little piece of ourself died as you typed those words.

None of this is actually addressing the problem.

Yes, it is. With the other four characters out of the discussion, we now have a greater chance that whatever we decide here will not be strayed from, which means we're using every last bit of time available for the task at hand.

We could make up a new character who can handle Gamer Mom and The Tenth Man. It worked in December 2010.

That's an interesting idea. Who would you be thinking of?

Someone very interested in drama, and in the potential of little moments. Someone with an eye for the visual and the emotional. Actually, forget the new character. I volunteer to run the entire month.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You'd watch movies and act random. We need someone reliable.

So let's make a new character, who's exactly like me but reliable?

That doesn't even make sense. Your whole nature is as an agent of chaos.

I prefer to think of myself as... no, actually, that's good. Agent of chaos. I want to be an agent of chaos.

Excellent. Then you have no place in this conversation; come back in February. And we're not making a new character, because we don't have the time to tweak and test him. We're working with who we've got.

Suit yourself.

Okay. Four characters: Addict, Worker, Person, Programmer. But mainly the Addict and the Worker. The Person and the Programmer are just to keep the month from getting stale, really.

Gee, thanks. It's so nice to feel wanted.

Think of yourselves as understudies.

It does make sense to have understudies.

But mainly we're relying on the Addict and the Worker. The Addict is only allowed to return after two days of other characters, so the Addict's days should be as long as possible and the Worker's days should be as short as possible.

I don't understand.

That way we can squeeze two Workers in between Addicts, and have flexibility about which activity each Addict is pursuing. But "as long as possible" is going overboard. I'm afraid that after reaching an average of over 7/10 for the month, which is quite necessary in January's case, the Addict will simply take the rest of the month without needing to worry about quality.

Fine. Not as long as possible. But on the long side. We'll keep in conversation during the day, and see when it's best to end.

We're still not addressing the problem. It's simple math. There are not enough hours.

We could sleep less.

No, we could not. I know what you're like without eight and a half hours of sleep. I'm not interested in going there.

You know, most people don't sleep so much.

Maybe they don't put as much energy into each day as we need here.

Or maybe they do, and we've just gotten too used to having this much sleep.

It doesn't matter if you're right. We can't risk it when so much is on the line.

Fatigue would become Arthur Brooks.

No.

Please stop dancing 'round the issue.

Let's figure on 85 hours of Gamer Mom.

Oh, damn. I messed up my calculation. I forgot the last day is a self-meeting.

 

 

Right.

Oh, and also I wasn't accounting for mundane activities.

For God's sake!

I think whatever we decide on, by the way, should leave in time for TV and comics.

And we can't neglect the blog for another month. We just can't.

People! We do not have an infinite amount of time!

This is why we are looking to you to decide how the time will be spent.

Now, let's do the calculations properly.

Let's figure that we have an average of ten hours per day (not game-day, but "day" in the conventional sense) that's not claimed by sleeping, eating, other mundanity, brief lapses into addiction and unexpected events.

That seems high. What if some social opportunity comes along?

Let's say an average of nine hours per day that we can actually plan for. We have 23 days, not 22, and the self-meeting will be the first of February. So we have 207 hours to work with.

That is nothing.

Now you're catching on. If it's a hundred hours on The Tenth Man just with the transportation times and not even adding in all the extra work of trying to do a good job, then 100 hours of Gamer Mom is a fantasy.

I don't want to leave it all for February.

We don't need comics and TV.

Sherlock is awesome. I would like to watch it.

And that's not an option. We're forgetting about the transportation. During that time, we'll be playing games on the Nintendo DS. That will serve as the entertainment this month. No comics, no TV, no music, minimal internet use. The purpose they serve is not needed when we've got another kind of entertainment available.

There still aren't enough hours.

Gamer Mom has to go.

No.

Gamer Mom stays.

You're making this very difficult. This plan is absurd. We cannot give equal attention to the game and the play. We simply cannot, and no amount of stubbornness will change the fact.

I'd like to sleep on it. We'll meet again in the morning, and conclude this meeting so that the Addict can get started with Gamer Mom.

Good night.

Good morning.

Have you come to a decision?

Good morning.

I have not quite decided yet.

Let's put all our energy into the play, like the Explorer suggested. December 2010 showed results.

It showed results because there were no distractions at all. Nothing but the play. That is not an option in this case. Gamer Mom is a higher priority than the play. If I were convinced that we could not do both to the expected level of quality, I would say that the play should suffer for it. Thankfully, I am not convinced of this.

Now, let's rethink our calculations one last time. December 2011 started late. January 2012 is also starting late. It's not the end of the world if we decide right now that February 2012 will be starting late as well.

This doesn't match up with how the rest of the world calculates time.

Nor does our use of the word "day", but that's not hurting anyone.

We really shouldn't be calling those "days".

I know it's shocking that I of all people would suggest such a thing, but this is not the time to discuss semantics. There is a precedent for lengthening months when the work is not done. It will not be possible to do a hundred hours of Gamer Mom by February 1st, for all the reasons brought up and others. But doing it by February 5th is quite a different matter.

If that's the case, then we can stop at February 1st and simply do less this month.

Yes, I suppose we could do that. That way we get a coherent story of February as a focus on Gamer Mom.

Actually, yes, that does work much better. Thank you.

Here, then, is the plan. We will not worry about the number of hours as we go.

We really should.

We will instead worry about maintaining balance between the play and the game. They are equally important in this month, and to neglect either is inconceivable. So if we feel that we've been spending more time on the play than the game, we shift our focus to the game. And vice versa. On the subject of vice, I will allow comics and TV for the simple reason that if I ban it, there will be a flood of wasted time just as we're starting the critical month of February.

Thank you.

Of course, these activities are only allowed for the Worker, and the new restriction which the Worker has kindly agreed to means that all such time needs to be scheduled so that it does not get out of control. I will expect every schedule to be run past me before it is declared. I will be generous in the first half of the month. Possibly less so as we get to crunch time.

You're talking about just twenty or thirty hours of private work on the play, if we follow that strategy.

I will not deny that the time on the play will be limited, especially since we do have other concerns: the health of the blog, adding the final touches to the conference room which should have been in last month.

We do not have time for the blog.

We will find time for the blog.

Nothing fancy, no interactive posts or really ambitious ideas. But at least we can write about Fear Itself, about Ocarina of Time, and about adventure games.

That's an extra forty hours tacked on, easily.

And what of the changes to the way we run the blog? Shouldn't those be done as soon as possible?

Absolutely not. That will be February, or maybe even March. For now we coast on what we've got.

I don't like it.

Noted.

What about the shul website? We did promise.

Again, not this month.

It's bad form to promise to do something and then not get around to it.

I am aware of that.

Basically, what is going to keep us focused on Gamer Mom and The Tenth Man is not any policies I set, but simply the influence of the Addict and the Person.

The Person is not known for getting things done.

He will be now.

You can't simply make up new personalities to suit a single month.

It fits with where the Person has been. These are important social obligations, as I have previously pointed out.

And what if he decides to spend an entire day just hanging out instead of working?

Person, please do not spend too much time with other people (other than Kyler and the Tenth Man cast) during January.

I can't guarantee that they'll be enough.

This is why you have Shabbat.

Okay. What of game night? Can I try to catch the tail end, as we did this past week?

Yes, okay.

You are imagining that there is more time than there truly is.

End your days quickly, except for the Addict. Don't sleep for longer than 8 hours. And never mind the numbers. This is going to be a fun month, for all of you.

That's it, then? "Balance"? That's your plan?

Yes. We'll see how it goes.

Have fun.


2012, January 4th, 12:15 and 27 seconds

261211002.htm

Humankind, I can explain...

I'm not sure what I should be doing now.

I guess I could end the day, but I feel like there's something I'm forgetting to do.

You were going to write to the blog.

Yes, I was.

People are actually reading the blog, which is really odd.

And it's a problem, because there's nothing new there.

But I don't remember what it was I wanted to write.

Well, look at what's going on right now. You're basically-

"Cheating on the Human Race", that was it.

Yes, that was one idea for a title.

Was that the social game?

Yes. The idea is that you're trying to figure out how to approach normal people, when you've essentially replaced them with yourself.

Yes. Is there a way I can word this, so that it won't have a creepy sexual undercurrent?

No. Embrace the sexual undercurrent.

[shudder]

:)

"cheating" is the right word. It creates a sense that what we're doing is taboo.

It sounds like bestiality.

Nonsense.

Well, it does.

The title gives the wrong idea.

No better title is popping into mind. We can think about it.

But no implications of bestiality.

Fine.

Are you sure you want to write this post yourself? It takes a long time to write an interactive post.

Well, it's best if I do it. But honestly... no. I'm not sure this is what I want to do with the rest of the day.

I have the sense that there was something else, some simpler post I had in mind.

Maybe you should have written it down.

Sure, but I didn't.

You know, I really like "Cheating on the Human Race". It's catchy, it's provocative.

No bestiality!

Fine, fine.

This is yet another reason why I should write it myself.

So do that.

Maybe I will.

Look, this is obviously a turning point for you.

Guh. Don't remind me.

It was a lot easier to just ignore you guys.

What's changed?

I don't know. All I know is that when I tell people about this program, they don't react like I thought they would.

What is it you thought they'd think?

I don't know, that this is a bit of strangeness that intrigues them. Or something. I don't know.

What difference does it make if other people are interested? Is our entire life just an amusement for other people?

Well, yes.

I mean, don't get me wrong, it would be great to actually do things. I'm all for working on Gamer Mom, for instance. That can get me actual respect. But while I'm not being respected, sure, I'll settle for amusement.

Interesting.

Oh, go on, say it. You think that's pathetic.

No, actually I'm not sure how I feel about it. I guess I just never considered the idea of creating amusement being such a goal of being strange. But maybe that's all it is.

Of course you're trying to amuse people. What's the whole blog?

It's a story I'm telling my future self.

Sure.

Then why is it on the internet?

The public nature of a blog gives the story legitimacy in my eyes. But the intended audience is not the public. It never has been.

"Legitimacy"?

Yes. It says that this is not a story I'm ashamed in. And that creates expectations about how this story is going to be ending, i.e. there will be a point to all of it.

Most blogs on the internet don't have a point.

Their writers are treating them as tools of communication. I Am Not... is a story.

And the purpose of a story is to entertain, no?

Point taken.

 

I suppose strangeness is about eliciting reactions, in a way- by seeing something that you don't expect, it expands your worldview a little. [The Trip: Diversity (and lack thereof)]

Citations, now. What the hell have I gotten myself into.

There's something inherently idealistic about nonconformity.

See, that I don't buy. I could be okay with conformity.

Really?

Sure, why not?

All that work, to end up as someone who'll always be second-best next to the natural normals.

No one's naturally normal. You learn it as you go along.

True enough.

But better to aim higher, no?

I don't know. I really don't.

 

Then why are you here? Why did you vote to keep this game going?

I don't know.

I was really surprised, I've got to be honest. I thought you weren't interested in any of us, because we're not "real" people or whatever.

You're not.

And yet...?

And yet nothing. You're not.

I don't get it.

You know, when I tell people what I'm up to and they practically back away because they don't know what to make of me, I should want to throw away everything that's causing that. I should want to reassure them that it's not so weird really. It really is very awkward to tell anyone about this. I mean, I can't quite claim to have multiple personalities because that implies a lack of control. And this is all so rigidly controlled.

All multiple personalities might be something like this. [Semantics, Part 3]

You can't actually believe that.

There are some things about this text entry which need to be fixed. First, only the part of the line which is visible should be drawn. Drawing so much offscreen is slowing the program down. So we'll need to figure out which part of the line actually needs to be drawn. Actually, that should be very straightforward. Second, when switching characters textX should immediately be set to textGoalX without the scrolling. There's no sense in thinking the caret is in the same place for two characters. A separate problem is that when a new character is brought in while another character hasn't finished typing, the program thinks the text is for the new character. That's just a simple oversight.

It makes sense. If it were an act, in the same way that any persona is a controlled act, I think multiple personalities might look exactly as they do. Which is not proof of anything, but it means that this isn't an outrageous idea. Regardless, what we're doing is in some ways unique.

There are plenty of people who talk to themselves on the internet. We didn't invent the idea.

Most people don't take it this far.

This is true.

Most people are content with a little bit of quirkiness. This here is full-fledged uberquirk.

The word "quirk" doesn't even belong here. I think the word you're looking for is "insanity".

Or possibly "disorder".

Ugh. Don't even joke. This is all a conscious decision, we don't need to make a new category just to make people feel better about being quote-unquote "normal". This is a choice.

The program is slowing down. We've never had a BlitzMax program run for such a sustained time, and maybe this just happens. Or maybe I need a new graphics card. Or more RAM.

We'll manage.

I was saying that it's awkward to tell people about this "game", or whatever you want to call it.

And I'm really embarrassed when they react like that, but somehow it feels right, you know?

I don't know what it is that you would consider "right" about this situation. Like I said earlier, I didn't expect you to be onboard.

It's just, like, maybe this is who I can be. I can be that weird guy.

That doesn't sound dignified.

But maybe it's enough.

Maybe it's enough if I'm really, really, really weird.

We are that.

You know, there is a goal in all this.

We're not just being weird for weird's sake, I think we can actually accomplish great things like this.

Maybe. Maybe not. For now, all there is is the scared look on people's faces when they hear.

And there's this conversation.

Yes! And there's this conversation. And y'know, one on one you're not so bad. In the whole group it was like this really aggressive "Fictional Character Pride Parade", and I just wanted to run away. But in the moment to moment of this thing, it's really not so bad.

I don't understand you. Having pride in this system is going to alienate you from other people. That's obvious. You can't say "I spent two hours talking to myself yesterday.", and expect the person to still see you as someone they can relate to.

So, what? I should hide my face?

At very least, you shouldn't go around announcing the most extreme examples of your strangeness to the world. You're out leading the parade, and it just doesn't add up in my head.

I can't tell whether this is a lapse in your characterization, or if you're lying, or what.

Don't insult me. I know who I am.

Then explain it to me, because I don't know who you are. I... I ought to know who you are, but I have no clue. Give me something to work with.

"I spent hours talking to myself today." There you go.

:D

I don't get you at all.

Well, it's the first date.

I guess it is.

 

Do you have any idea what you're going to be doing next?

Not a clue.

Figures.

If I might interrupt...

By all means.

The Rules let you switch to any one character. Switch to me. I'll start by working on Gamer Mom from 21:20 to... say, 23:00. Then we'll write out the post together until 1:00. I have no hesitation about working on things like this, and you are the one who actually wants to write it. Let's work together, and see what happens.

We can split the post into two sections, so that you have this big open dialogue between Person and Thinker on the one hand and then a "normal" conversation on the other with a normal person.

Working this conversation into the post, to give a frame of reference. I love it.

Do any of you have an idea for a better title than "Cheating on the Human Race"?

That's a good title.

How about "Humankind, I can explain..."?

That's not bad.

It's a bit informal, no?

No, that's fantastic. We can have two titles for two connected posts. One formal and comfortable, the other informal and awkward. It's perfect.

You mean that the other title would be the filename.

Exactly.

It's already 21:21. We should move this along. And then at 1:00 I can watch Doctor Who-

Ha! An ulterior motive!

Always.

Okay, let's get going then. Don't want to keep the Doctor waiting...

Good luck.

Judging by the reaction it provoked, I probably shouldn't have blurted out that I regularly chat with myself and have made a computer program which has no other function than to enable this behavior. Ah well, the cat's out of the bag. The truth about me would have come out sooner or later. How do I play this?

"Doesn't everyone talk to themselves, now and then?"
"I'm not crazy. I just find that it's a good technique for planning and managing my life."
"Yes, I'm crazy."
"I was joking. Ha ha."

"I don't."

"You should try it some time! It'll change your life."
"Oh, you're one of those."
That was an exit line if ever I've heard one.

"You know, I can't say I've ever considered that. That is an interesting suggestion. But I don't know how long I could stand talking to myself. Otherwise, a very.. um, yes. Interesting suggestion."

Wow, talking to oneself as a burden... this is a person who needs help.
Maybe multiple personalities aren't for everyone.

I advise: "See, that right there is the sign of an unhealthy relationship with yourself. Like any relationship, it all starts with communication. If you're not willing to talk to yourself, how can you work out your problems?"

"Well, some people go to therapists. Me, I'm not crazy, so I don't think I have anything to worry about."

"Bah, therapists. They don't know you like you do. Think about it."

I admit: "It is a struggle sometimes, to face myself and be totally open about everything. It's always worth it, though."

"I'll just take your word for it."

"One of what?"

"A normal person. Shudder."

"What's wrong with normal people?"

"You mean besides the lack of personality, the mindless conformity, the all-consuming greed and the pointlessness of their existence?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm joking."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing! I am a liberated oddball, do you hear me?"

An awkward silence ensues.

This is excellent. I've efficiently established myself as a weirdo, and if I don't press any further on this subject I may even be seen as the harmless, noncontagious kind. A change of topic is needed, right away.

"So... play any videogames?"
"The play I'm in is coming along nicely."

(Oh my god that was the worst thing I could possibly have said. What is wrong with me?)

"Sometimes.".

Oh, how delightful. I think we'll call this interaction a success.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I pretty much know what I'm doing. I thought I knew what I was doing before and the director didn't like it, so I've diluted it to fit in with his vision, and now it's fairly easy and simplistic so I'm looking to see if maybe I can find new challenges in the nuances of the voice of it. I'm not entirely sure what he should sound like. Maybe I should record myself doing the lines a bunch of different ways, and see what works best. But I don't really have time to do that this week, because I've got to finish the blog post I'm working on first. There's never enough time."

I'm not getting a response here, having not left an opening for one. So I continue. This person has obviously become a third wheel in my conversation, but it's better than awkward silences, right?

I continue: "There are so many things you think about that you don't know you're thinking about, just because it doesn't seem important enough to reach your consciousness. But the other thoughts all affect what you're doing, whether you like it or not. By defining eight aspects of my personality and then having those aspects talk to each other as fictional characters, I'm taking everything that I might not have been aware of on a conscious level, and putting it out in the open as a debate."

"I don't think you can reduce a person to just eight personality traits."

"That's true, but it's a good shorthand."

Uh oh, I think there's something to that criticism.
Show how the Rules have improved my life.
Concede that I might be full of shit.

Maybe this isn't about my real subconscious. God knows I'm having to fight aspects of my personality which I never put there. Maybe this is all just fooling myself into thinking I have control.

I should defend the practice. I can work out the ideas as I'm talking.
The world doesn't need to hear my nonsense. I should keep it to myself in the future.

"Even if this isn't a perfect representation of my psyche, truth comes out in fiction. And with a fiction as diverse as this, with eight different sides all with different perspectives, I always find a way to put the truth into someone's mouth."

Hm. I don't think anyone's very interested in whether I'm a hypocrite or not. Shame- I would have enjoyed a rigorous argument. Maybe later, with my selves.

I remain silent after that, thoughts floating around in my head and getting lost because my brain doesn't keep HTML transcripts. I have no desire to stop playing at multiple personalities, and I will defend my right to irrationality if necessary. But I don't need to get into this argument if I'm going to lose it. What I do in the privacy of my home is my business, and I need to stop trying to make it others'.

"Sometimes I get stuck in one way of thinking. And that's a trap. After a while your habits and attitudes become a hindrance, when you're trying to do new things. So I switch to whatever character will not run into those pitfalls, and either I let that character take over or I let that character argue and advise the character in charge because they're coming from a different perspective."

"You are a very strange person."

I don't think I've explained the idea clearly.
We're ending at "strange". Not "crazy". That's a win.

"Every day, I pick one of these characters to run the day. And there are specific rules for those characters, and at the end of the day I score on how well I represented the behavior of that character. It's just acting, really. Just without a stage. Well, my blog's the stage. Anyway, what's improved since I've made this new computer program is that in the moment to moment of life, whatever rules I've set can seem kind of abstract. But characterization in a dialogue is a lot more clear-cut. I can easily see whether I'm losing the character, and try to get into the head of this character better if that happens. So that bleeds out into the rest of my life, that understanding of who I am that day."

"Most people don't need to go to such lengths to know who they are. And who they are isn't some made-up character."

"All personas are fictional. And most of them aren't really being controlled on a conscious level. This is better."

"Thanks."

"On the other hand, I might just be rationalizing a silly idea." Why did I start this, again?

Because multiple personalities are awesome.
Because my plans are too big for any one personality.

"Multiple personalities are something that I've thought about for a long time. Like eight years, or something like that. And at some point I just decided to stop thinking about it and go for it. And because I'm insanely analytical I decided to do it systematically, and here I am now." That sounds kind of pathetic, now that I say it out loud. "It's not as dysfunctional as it sounds. We actually get things done... on... rare occasions."

"Sounds brilliant."

"The... core of my rationalization revolves around the idea that my plans are too massive to handle unless I split my personality. I mean, I am planning to invent or reinvent five different art forms. And I actually have plans, going decades into the future, to pull that off but it just seems like it's too much for any one version of myself to pull off. So maybe if I keep switching between characters, and find or... unlock all the potential there, all the different potentials there, then maybe I can do what I feel like I need to do."

"You know, having multiple personalities generally doesn't lead to reinventing art forms."

"Okay. Well, we have plans."

"Okay then. It's good to have plans."

"Well, at least you know you're crazy. That's good."

"Oh yes, I have no illusions or desires about being what most people would consider sane. Being crazy is way more interesting. I never know what I'll do from one moment to the next!"

Elaborate on that thought.
"There was one time..."
Pontificate on the virtues of being crazy.

"It's like... my parents were wondering why it is that I don't consider any woman I've ever met to be dating material, and I told them -truthfully- that I'm only that interested in people like me, and that I haven't met any other people like that except for me. So they said that I shouldn't hope for someone like me, because that can get boring. That it's better to be with someone who surprises you. But the thing is, I always surprise me. When I'm talking to myself, it's magical because I actually do not know what I'm going to say next, but when I say it it feels like I've always known."

"You've... always known what you were going to say next. I can't imagine how that works out."

I haven't made myself clear.
I've said too much already.

"Well, yeah, obviously these characters and the things they're saying and doing don't come out of thin air. But when I'm limiting my perspective to one character or the other, that character doesn't necessarily understand any other character. He's in his own little world. They're like different colors that the light is passing through, losing some of what it had along the way so that it can have a solid color on the other end."

Judging by this awkward silence, I don't think I'm getting through.

"It's like I'm actually removing aspects of my personality, because it's like something in my game The Perfect Color. If you try to do everything at once, you end up with a gray mush. So you actually need to decide what you're going for beforehand, and not pay attention to anyone who doesn't like what you're doing or thinks they know better. Life is like that."

Nope. Still not getting through.

"Do you know the Legend of Zelda series of videogames?..."

"Whatever, you know what I'm saying."

"I think you were saying you're crazy."

"Yes. That. And also other things, but whatever."

"There was one time I wrote an interactive blog post that contained every other blog post on my blog as its choices. It took me two months, and that was after a year of laying the groundwork and preparing. The idea of the post was that it was just me arguing with myself, revealing the subtext behind everything else I'd written and presenting it all as this big argument between different versions of myself taken from different points in time as I was writing the blog. I'm not sure if it's a very good post, but I just like the idea of a blog post which contains the entire blog it's in. Sometimes I can't see whether what I'm doing makes any sense on a basic level because I'm so fascinated by these high-level big ideas. It's a failing of mine."

"Uh huh."

Say more about the blog.
Say something else that's crazy.

"Now, of course, the blog is a lot more sensible. It's all the eight versions of me arguing about where we're going, in an orderly fashion at the end of each month and also making statements at the beginning and end of each day. The whole multiple-personality idea that the program's a part of is just because I wanted more material for my blog. My blog took over my life quite a while ago. It's why I've ever done anything."
"Uh huh."

"It's true. Without the blog, I wouldn't be where I am today. Which is not much of anywhere, really, but I am doing things like making games and acting in plays and writing screenplays so there is that."
"Okay."

"I still would have been composing things without the blog. That has no connection."
"Naturally."

"My blog is at www.thebuckmans.com. You shouldn't go to it, you probably wouldn't like it."
"Okay."

"I have a piece of music that's called "Variations On V.O.V.", which is made up of seven variations on its own structure. It's so complex that when I was writing it, I had a piece of paper which was a key to the structure of the whole thing, and without that piece of paper I didn't understand anything I had done but with it it all seemed elegant, like the whole thing made perfect sense and couldn't possibly have worked any other way. I wish I had a key like that for life, where I'll see what the brilliant idea was that led to all the things I'm doing now. I should have written down a clear mission statement when I started all this, but instead for some reason I wrote it all cryptic and incomprehensible. So only that version of me understands what the hell we've been doing all this time, and honestly I'm a bit skeptical whether even he has any idea or if he's just making it up as he goes along like the TV show LOST. I'm honestly a bit afraid now that I'm saying this that maybe there isn't any big idea, or that maybe it's even worse if there is a big idea but no one will ever see it because it's too abstract. So in the end all it is is random notes being played."

I have nothing more to say on the subject, nor (apparently) does my companion. I suppose we'll have to leave it there, then.

"I don't understand why everyone chases this ideal of normalcy like it's something to be proud of. Congratulations, you are just like everyone else in the world. You could die tomorrow, and no one would notice except the standard role-fillers who will find someone else to replace you in their lives. I mean, sure, they'll grieve, but then they'll move on because there's no shortage of boring people out there. The world is positively littered with them. But if you're crazy, then you're one of a kind. No, I guess that's not true either. There are categories of crazy. I guess I don't know what I'm talking about."

"What's wrong with categories? I have no problem with any of the categories I'm in. And if I did, there's no one forcing me to do anything. But I don't generally think to myself: 'If only I were less normal and more crazy.'"

That is insulting!
Just answer the question: "What's wrong with categories?"

I snap back: "No, of course you don't! You'd have to not be exactly like other people to not be comfortable with being a cliché!"

"Hey, you don't know me."

"And I don't think I want to. Good... day. Good day."

"There's nothing wrong with categories unless you're not precisely the kind of person that the category was invented for, to such a degree that the stereotype actually is your path to self-fulfillment. If you're even the tiniest bit different from what's expected of you, then you just throw away what you really want to be doing and replace it with what you think you're supposed to be doing so that everyone you know can think of you as just another member of a group they think they know well instead of actually getting to know you as an individual. And as it happens, I don't believe anyone in the world actually is who these groups are supposed to be to such a degree that it's not stifling, so yeah. Categories suck."

"The majority of people are perfectly happy. If you're crazy, I can see how you wouldn't be happy. But that's not because of the people around you. It's because you're crazy."

Well, I walked right into that one. Touché, or something.

"Were you joking, really?"

"No."
"Yes. I am normal. I am a manly man who drinks beer and talks with friends about sports. I leave the toilet seat up, and am mocked for it."
"Does it matter? Chances are you've already made your mind up about me, one way or the other."

"Then why did you just say you were joking?"

"I don't know."
"Because I thought it would be funny? Clearly I was mistaken."

...and that's the end of that conversation. Good going.

"Alternatively,", I offer, "you might have no sense of humor."

"I have a sense of humor. You're not being funny. More like disturbing, really."

"Okay then."

"You leave the toilet seat up."

"No."

"Sorry."
"At some point, you should probably stop repeating what I'm saying and say something for yourself."

"Would it be any better if I said I watch popular TV shows regularly?"

"Hey, it's none of my business if you say you talk to yourself. I don't really care what TV shows you watch."

"So it wouldn't be any consolation if I said I watch The Simpsons?"

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, we're just having a conversation."

"Okay."

"I... would have no idea what to say to someone like you."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry."

"Hey, I didn't say anything."

"You don't need to. I see what you're thinking."
"But if you were to say something, what would it be?"

"Don't drag me into this. If you want to talk to yourself, that's fine. But don't pretend you know what I'm thinking. I didn't say anything to you."

"No, you didn't."

There is no reply.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"I'm not going to tell someone they're crazy. That's between you and a psychiatrist."


eight comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger Kyler said:

I was thinking about scheduled gamer mom work time as well.

Blogger The Reish Galuta of the Geula said:

Doesn't the conference room slow down your thought process? I mean you can think a lot faster than you can type, so in order to have a proper conversation you need to slow down your thoughts.

 Mory said:

It does slow down my thought process, but it also focuses it. It's an acceptable trade-off.

Blogger Kyler said:

Can you provide an easy to find legend for all of the characters' colours on your blog. I can never remember who is who.

Blogger Kyler said:

"Bah, therapists. They don't know you like you do. Think about it."

Hilarious line

 Mory said:

Thank you. And thanks for suggesting a reference. I'm going to include one whenever it's called for from now on.

Blogger zusha said:

hey! ya it's zusha the dude from the play ;) can i ask a new comers question..?
when you write in this program, then the program is the one that responds to you or is it you breaking up your thoughts into many characteristics?

 Mory said:

Hello, Zusha. I'm not entirely sure I understand your question. It's just a chat room where I talk to myself. If you're asking how I think of these personalities -myself vs. others or different versions of myself - it's more like I'm splitting my opinions. We all can see things from lots of different angles, but we limit ourselves to one way of looking at things because that's the persona we've chosen. By switching back and forth between personas, I'm not dismissing the ideas that occur to me but engaging with them and seeing where they lead.

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2011, December 6th, 13:37 and 39 seconds

View the colossal shark-jumping of November 2011Daily performance reviews for November 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for November 2011





Well? Say something. Let's see what new string of nonsense will come tumbling out of your mouth as justification for choosing this over letting me have a decent life.

I'm not sure I want to hear this. I think it might just make me sick.

The problem was the Panic Mode rule. It's as simple as that. I recognized last month that it was not having the appropriate effect, and we tried it for another month but it was still a bad rule.

I had a decent month.

Look, it's just... god.

Yeah? Let's hear it.

The problem was me.

You don't say.

Please. This isn't easy for me. Why do you think I've put off this post for almost a week?

Because your entire game has collapsed, inevitably.

A vote.

What?

I would like to put it to a vote. The whole system. We will vote on whether or not to continue playing as these eight characters. The alternative is to go back to where we were in the performance reviews a year ago, and find a different way forward. A less radical way, perhaps. This is all my idea, to treat life as though we have multiple personalities, and I am failing to make it work. That becomes more apparent from month to month. So we will vote. Of course the Rules will change drastically if we choose to continue, because there must never again be a month like November 2011. We spent more time out of character than in. We watched TV for days on end, without even acknowledging the problem save for late-night bouts of crippling depression. The Panic Mode rule would go, replaced with rules that give positive reinforcement rather than punishment. Some more rules would be added to my character page as well, because my self-centeredness is the reason we are in this mess. In retrospect, asking the rest of you to come up with your own plans for the month and stick to them was an admission of defeat on my part. I didn't understand or care about any of you enough to be the proper leader you need, who you can trust and feel comfortable with. I tried turning the Musician, who is frankly a genius, into a simple productivity tool, and when he was not the character I wanted him to be I was angry. I did not allow for failure, which is a terrible attitude. Even in failure, I need to be accepting. Only then can there be a healthy group here. I came to these conclusions in talking to our mother and to Moshe, and it is my hope that if we finish the conference room program quickly we can talk to each other in ways which lead to such understandings. This sense of isolation that you all had, and the fear of stepping up to the plate that ultimately brought down the entire system, all of that is on me and I would need to change that about myself. But first we need to put the system to a vote because we never have voted on the system itself. We just moved forward, with me assuming that we'd all be on the same page. But that kind of team can only come through honest and constant communication. We start today, with this vote. If we vote to stop, we stop. I'm not going to be a dictator. Now then: Do we continue with The Rules?



Everyone will need to vote, even the Addict.

I vote no.

He speaks!

I'm not interested in music, or games, or acting. I want to watch TV. It takes minimal effort, but lets you believe -for however long you're watching- that there's a whole world that continues from episode to episode and is still there even when you turn the show off. Even the most lightweight shows can give a sense of comfort that actual life takes years to reach, and when we're talking about the really great shows of today (and today's television has a lot of bright spots) there's also much to think about, and discuss, and write about. I could fill twenty posts just with thoughts from the TV show Homeland. And don't get me started on the strained relationships of The Amazing Race- there's truly fascinating drama ther. For instance, back in season six-

Please don't ever speak again.

Whatever. My vote is no.

What we are doing is unnatural. We need to be open to all opportunities at all times. By deciding at the beginning of the day what sort of day we should have, we are guaranteeing that much of the day's potential will be completely ignored.

If you're referring to the restriction on piano, I imagine we'd be taking that out as it was part of the Panic Mode rule. I still wouldn't be playing any music because it just doesn't interest me, but anyone else could come up with themes and count that as "mundane activities".

And be penalized for it. No thank you.

Only if mundane activities exceed one quarter of the day, which is a generous allowance. Any more than that and music can become a dangerous distraction.

I was a more prolific musician, once.

What if I made an exception in my own rules for music?

Programmer, that will be entirely unnecessary. The Musician has made his feelings clear, and we're going to accept them.

Well, I don't give up just because things haven't gone my way immediately. This is a very interesting project we're engaged in, and I think with continuous tweaking it can work. We had one bad rule which wasn't discarded quickly enough, and we'll need to be willing to make drastic changes during the month to deal with things like that. But let's not hrow out the baby with the bathwater, eh?

Is that a vote for the Rules?

Yes, it is. I vote to continue.



Explain to me what it is that I can possibly get out of pretending to have dissociative identity disorder.

Certainly. I mean, it's not truly split personalities, but that's neither here nor there so I'll just tell you what the benefit is. During the course of whatever you work on, occasionally you reach problems you don't know how to deal with. Correct?

Yes. That's when I ask other people.

Instead of other people, you can ask us.

It's a poor substitute.

Hello, Person.

Other people will actually know the answers. You guys only pretend to.

Exactly.

Everyone just pretends to have the answers.

Spare me the philosophizing.


Please, let me think for a few minutes.

It seems like this is all just crazy for crazy's sake.

It's not. There's logic to it. Just give me a minute to find it. Honestly, I was expecting you to just vote "no" offhand, so I didn't think about this from your perspective. But if we continue I'll need to be taking everyone's perspective into account on a regular basis.

Well, you know exactly what my perspective is. I want to work, I want to be happy, I have no use for stories and silliness. Sell me on this. What do I get out of being one of eight?

You get a team backing you up. Everything you need, everything you can't get by yourself, we're here for you.

So if I say that I want to be making money, on a regular basis? What if I point out that that is a universal necessity in this world? What will you do to get money?

I don't know. It's a tough question.

It's not tough at all. It's called a regular job. If I tell you that I need a regular job, with regular hours and a steady paycheck, what do you say?

I say okay.

What?!

Really.

Really. I can't get out of the common sense that we do need to be making money somehow.

Thinker, what are you doing?

I'm trying to not ignore a position that makes perfect sense in favor of holding onto the status quo.

It's funny you put it that way, because I think holding on to the status quo is exactly what you're after here. You see you might lose the Worker, so you're making unrealistic promises to keep him in your good graces.

Making money is unrealistic?! What planet do you live on?

Programmer, this isn't about "losing" anyone. It's either all of us or none of us, but the Worker raises a good point.

I can't believe I'm hearing this. You know that a 9 to 5 job is unfeasible while we're following the Rules!

Then we need to find a way to make it fit!

I am not going to restrict my activities to the end of a day, when I have no energy left!

A rigid schedule takes out all control over what we accomplish in life. You must see that.

I do. But we can't keep leeching off of others forever. We've been saying as much for months.

Yes, we need money. But within this system we're building!

And how is that supposed to happen, when apparently making money doesn't fit in your system?

We can talk about this later, my point is that I am open to all possibilities.

We won't have many possibilities if the Worker gets his way.

It's odd, don't you think, that I'm expected to work for all of you and be what basically amounts to your slave while even the tiniest thing I say is ignored and I'm made out to be the enemy. To hell with all of you.

If this is the sort of organization that we're going to have from now on, then I won't be a part of it. I change my vote to no.

Same here. I'm not going to be stifled under a suit.

Calm down, please. Everyone calm down.

No, I will not calm down. There needs to be logic underneath what we are doing. We can't just be throwing in ideas and seeing what happens, or we get to situations like Panic Mode.

That was your idea!

Yes, and after seeing how it worked in practice I said that we should get rid of it because it wasn't working.

So let's get a job, see how it goes!

You can't back out of that so easily. We could be losing months.

You mean we could be making money for months. Or do you want to be living in someone else's house your whole life?

Please calm down.

I'm not going to just fill in the cracks in the Worker's life. No way. I'll be voting no.

Calm down! I would like to talk!

No, this is great. If everyone backs out, it means I win. Well, the Addict and I.

Musician, you are not helping. Now this is all really a misunderstanding, so if everyone would please calm down long enough for me to explain, that would be terrific.

I'm listening.



I did not mean to say that we'd just get a job and damn the consequences.

And there it is.

The Worker wants a way to make money on a steady basis. We can help him get that.

That is not what you said.

Then forget what I said! It was poorly stated.

You were perfectly clear:

If I tell you that I need a regular job, with regular hours and a steady paycheck, what do you say?
I say okay.

Not much ambiguity.

Okay! I get it! I suck! Fine! I am trying my best here, same as any of you.

Their best? Did you see the performance reviews?

I wrote the damned performance reviews!

I don't know if you can be in charge if you lose your temper like this.

You're right. You're all right, I need to try harder.

So when the dust settles, you're back to completely ignoring me again. What a surprise.

I'm not ignoring you. We need money. But we're not going to work for someone else.

Then how will we get money, pray tell?

Music.

No! What the hell is wrong with you, that you go back on every single-

Let me finish. Worker, you will deal with musical arrangements. I thought I could get the Musician to do that, but his heart isn't in it. But surely you recognize that some of the Musician's themes are marketable.

I do recognize that.

Then the two of you will work together. He comes up with ideas, you work on them until they're ready to sell. There's your steady money.

And why is this better than a desk job?

You're not getting a desk job, as everyone has just made perfectly clear. I'm sorry about that.

Sure you are.

I want you to be happy, and not just because we're ostensibly in the middle of a vote. But you need to understand that without the multiple character system you're not going to have more control. You're going to have much less, because you won't have a voice. If Mory Buckman is one character, rather than eight, then that is not a character who will be satisfied with a desk job.

He can still work on music, the same as I can.

You are reliable in a way that we never were before splitting into different characters last year.

What about the old Thursdays?

In which we looked for ways out of having to work, and then begrudgingly got some token work done before rushing back to addictions? That was the prototype. You are the real deal, and we'll be lost without having you on some days.

Okay, fine, there's no need to flatter me. I vote yes.

For the record, if you had given me some time to think about my answer instead of bombarding me with questions, I could have told you why this is better for you an hour ago.

I'm agreeing, I'm agreeing.

Okay. So let's see where we stand after all that. Programmer, what is your vote?

To be clear: we're not going off to get a job that'll eat up all our time?

No. We control the schedule. We're agreeing that we will make money, for now, by having the Musician and the Worker produce music together.

That sounds like a good plan to me. I want to continue with the Rules.

Excellent. Explorer, you said you were voting against The Rules, but that seemed to be a reaction to the idea of a job.

It was. The fact is, I think this game we're playing is one of the coolest things we've ever done. It's exciting.

That's a yes, then.

You'd better believe it. I think we're just getting started here.

I agree. So that's the Addict and the Musician against continuing, and the Explorer, the Worker and the Programmer in favor. I also vote yes, which puts the vote at 4 to 2.

I vote no.

Really?

Why?

Because we don't play games anymore. Games used to be a regular part of our routine.

I don't remember that.

Now there are so many restrictions on who can play what that most of you don't play games at all. And our life is all the poorer for it.

In November 2010, there were 11 hours and 39 minutes of videogames, not counting Wii Fit which is no longer included in time allocation tables. In November 2011 I count 23:54. More than double the specifically allocated videogame time from this time last year, and that's despite all the days we lost. So I think you're remembering games being a bit more central than they actually were. What's changed is, before there were ten minutes of a game here and there. It was spread out. Now it's mainly you, playing for many hours at a time. But the actual time spent playing videogames per month hasn't gone down.

This was an uncharacteristic month. What about last month?

Let's see... I count 19:54. But there were also quite a few hours of playing together with other people, which were not always differentiated from other kinds of socializing. We're not gaming less.

Okay, I stand corrected. I vote yes.

That makes five to two. The only one left is the Person.

I'd like to change my vote to an abstention.

That's surprising.

I'm just thinking that it would be nice to have someone do the annoying work of making music.

And back to making me the slave.

Worker, you know you'll probably enjoy the work.

Harrumph.

Musician, if you want someone to help you, that sounds like a vote for continuing the multiple personality system.

Except that it still means listening to you.

I touched on this earlier, but our relationship is going to be very different from now on. I tried treating you like you only existed to make money, and I profusely apologize for that.

Nothing's changed. You still just want me to make money.

No, that's the Worker's job. You just do what you do, and don't even worry about the score.

Thinker...

Okay, what I mean is that you shouldn't worry about the two points given for quality. If you aren't particularly inspired one day, just end the day early and I'll give you another one soon after. You have nothing to prove to me. The burden of proof is on me, to show you that this system can work to your benefit.

Oh, what the hell. Yes. Let's try this crazy thing.

So again we're left with just the Person. You've been very quiet.

Yes.

What is your vote?

I don't know.

Thoughts?

I've been screwed by you guys before, and I can't say this past month hasn't been a mess. Along with that, my life is kind of awful because I don't spend much time with other people and it seems like your solution is just to force me to spend more time with all of you with this conference room that seems like it's just going to pretend we don't need other people. And we do. We need other people. The Thinker wouldn't even be having these little epiphanies of his about positive reinforcement if not for other people's advice.

But I should have seen that negativity wouldn't work. Our father was always negative in our childhood, and it didn't get us to do things. If we had talked it out, I might have thought of that sooner.

I don't care. Just let me finish. I want to be with other people, and as long as you hold on to this silly idea that all we need is fictional characters to talk to, it'll be harder for me to get to that point. With that said, there is something I like about being able to tell people about this gloriously bizarre life. The sorts of people I like to be around don't see a problem with defying the norms, they find it interesting. And tha tells me there's something to it.

What if I said we could try to meet new people?

Don't bother. I'm not that gullible. But seeing as how I have no ideas of meeting people for myself, I say let's keep going. Also, having so many different kinds of experience in a month means more topics of conversation with people. So, like I say, there's something to it. And I have to be honest, you guys are really good about letting me take over whenever there are other people. So that's yes.

Then the vote is... seven to one. I really didn't picture it going like this.

The Addict only voted against because he's still in TV mode. On a different week, he would have voted differently.

Never mind the Addict. The clear consensus is that we're continuing. Then let's get to work. First, the Rules.
...Done. I'm not going to provide a link, because with one edit going on top of another the Rules have gotten really messy and I'm not sure how to deal with them. Programmer, I'd appreciate it if you could look for a more elegant way to organize the thing.

Okay. But I've got some more important things to deal with first.

You mean the conference room.

Yes.

I think we'll get the Addict to do that. Anyway, I've taken out Panic Mode and eased up some rules here and there on the condition that the average score for the month is above 7/10. Whoops. I forgot to change my own rules.

I'll do that.

No, I've got it. Give me a minute.


Okay, I've changed my rules. None of you will have to worry about the details, but I'm going to be a lot less selfish and hostile from now on.

I'll believe it when I see it.

Yes. We have not much time and much to do, so we will start with the Worker. You ready?

Always.

Then let's get started.


2011, November 25th, 2:16 and 52 seconds

Back to Kyler's comment

Dear Imaginary Friend...

Well, since you ask. Everything's awful. It's nothing.

I'm supposed to be playing eight different personalities on a regular basis, because I have ridiculously ambitious goals and I've fallen in love with the idea of a coordinated team of different versions of myself tackling the challenges together. I think that would be a clever story. But I look at the characters I have to work with... I look at myself, for that matter... and the whole thing feels like nonsense. What keeps me going is blind faith in my blog; that is to say, blind faith that when people look back at my life it'll be a story worth telling. But I'm telling you, I really don't see how we get from here to there. I keep trying new ways to push us in the right direction, and somehow it all ends up with me as a single personality, the same one I've had for close to twenty-four years: I am, in fact, a lazy bum. I don't like that person. I have no respect for him whatsoever. I want to see the oddball gamist who looks like he can do it all, because he's got a personality for every occasion. I want to see the person who rises above the usual restrictions of human behavior, so that he can reshape the landscape of art and entertainment and actually make it stick. I want people in the future to wonder why they're not as awesome as that Buckman guy was, and in reading this blog, understand that he was not really a person at all, more a fictional character who was constructed piece by piece from a lot of different kinds of personalities.

Well, I'm not happy with these personalities I've come up with. The Explorer -my God, I hate him so much right now- he's supposed to have this child-like exuberance, to cultivate enthusiasm and fresh ideas which can trickle down to everyone else. But the Explorer days have been out of character: it's basically just giving the old lazy version of me an excuse to not care about anything for a few hours or days. Then there's the Musician, who I thought was going to be our way into some money, except that he refuses to work on anything commercial. Well, that's not accurate. It's more like, he refuses to treat any of what he's doing like work. He just sits around all day waiting for inspiration to hit. Sometimes it does, and something moves forward, and sometimes inspiration doesn't hit, and a day is wasted. And even if something does move forward, it's a crapshoot which piece of music that'll be. Maybe something I can sell, but more likely some random musical idea that's never going to go anywhere.

Then there's the Worker, on the other end of the spectrum. He's reliable, he's efficient, he doesn't get distracted easily, he is everything I thought I'd be building when I was writing part 2 of the blog. And he keeps saying we need to step back and let him take over full-time, which drives me crazy. As soon as he doesn't have the rest of us pulling him back, he'll throw the Plan to the wind and settle down into a normal happy life. That is unacceptable to me. What, my entire point in life is just to serve society in some small capacity while churning out some Jewish Asperger kids? With all due respect to the majority of civilization, I'd rather die. ... Well, it's just not enough, is it? I went through a decade of suffering in the school system, and this entire character arc on the blog involving fictional characters and all these years of soul-searching and whatever the hell it is I'm doing now, just to be yet another interchangable "productive member of society"? Can you see how that might be just a tiny bit of an anti-climax to the story I'm telling here? No, a Worker life is out of the question. I'm not even going to take the idea seriously, sorry.
I've been going to a lot of rehearsals for the play I'm in, The Tenth Man, and I have no idea how I'm doing in that but I suspect the situation is not good. The directors are probably wishing they'd gone with someone else, someone who actually knew what he was doing. Or someone older, maybe, who could convince the audience that he's a successful lawyer. Or someone more normal, so that when I talk about how depressed I am the audience would sympathize instead of just wanting me to stop whining. Or someone who's actually felt things like love in his life, so that the scenes where I say I'm not in love would look like a guy who's in love but doesn't understand that, rather than a guy who legitimately is not in love, never has been in love and possibly never will be. Seriously, the three laws of Nonazangian Nonoccurence apply to my personal life. You remember Nonazang, right? No? Never mind. The point is that it really shouldn't be a stretch for me to be this character because hey, it's just a bunch of aspects of myself, right? It seems like every night I'm on the verge of breaking down, questioning what the meaning of all of it is and knowing there's no one that's going to answer because the other characters only hang around at the end of every month, and other than myselves there's really not anyone. No one actually cares whether I post to the blog, no one cares if I tell my silly story about abstract concepts. I guess I just like to... imagine there's someone here, or something here or whatever. Because if there isn't, I've got nothing.
That's nice of you to say. But what good is potential, without being able to fulfill it? That's what the Rules are supposed to be for. They don't work, and for the life of me I can't tell why. I tried being really strict about planning, and everyone ignored me. So this month, I thought, I'll be a benevolent leader. I'll create a group based on trust. Everyone will set their own goals, I won't force them to do anything they don't want to, and then when everyone works together nicely we'll all have this nice loving relationship where we know we can't live without each other. I'm just doing this because the other way didn't work. 13-20 September 2011. 26-27 October 2011. When I push for something, but I can't muster the enthusiasm for it, it not only doesn't get done but it also makes me so depressed that I can't do anything else, either. Because then I'm face-to-face with my own lack of self-control, and if I back down from the planning it's breaking character but if I stick with the plan it'll only be paying lip service.

Bullshit! I have to believe that that is complete and utter bullshit. The problem is that I'm not trying hard enough. My god, I've turned into my father. "Stop blaming ADD, the problem is you're not trying!", "But I can't!", "I don't want to hear that! You can't leave your room until you've finished your homework!". Did I ever do my homework? Not a day in my life. I would sit in my room twiddling my thumbs and feeling alternately sorry for and angry at myself, I'd wait an appropriately ridiculous amount of time, like an hour and a half or something like that, and then I'd come out and lie and know that if I sat there once I could sit there again so it wasn't the end of the world if he caught me. I have turned my entire life into that grade-school experience, with this "Panic Mode" rule that I thought was oh so clever. The Programmer said at the last meeting that he thought it was a bad idea, and I didn't listen. Stupid! Well, I guess I have no one to blame but myself. As always. [sigh]

The idea was that there should be penalties for not being consistently excellent. That way, I have no choice but to excel at whatever I do. Except, no, there is another way it can go, which is that I stop caring about everything and then life is easier. More miserable, but easier. Yay. I'm sorry, I don't know why you're even listening to me, no one should have to ever put up with this nonsense.

I want to get my life together. I want to have self-control. I do not want to watch TV. I want to be rational about things. I have no clue what that last sentence means so scratch that. I want nothing more than to create. There is no satisfaction in all the worlds to rival the joy of creating a new experience. This is truth. This is fact. Tomorrow I am going to be great, not because I am telling myself this, but because the things I legitimately want to do: work on Gamer Mom, work on the conference room program, create music I can sell, just to name a few random thoughts off the top of my head, these things that come from my basic nature as a creator are my god I can't even make it to the end of the sentence it's all such poor writing. Do you think you could possibly put in a period somewhere in that string of words?!

No, I'm sorry. Really. I don't... I don't blame you for leaving. I would have left. I wish I could leave. But, if you don't mind, I'm going to keep pretending, just for a little bit, that there is someone on this blog who cares. I need this. Just... I just think it's great, to have someone who cares. Ugh, this entire post is just a rehash of "the mundane and The Imaginary!". But written worse. I'm sorry for having wasted your time.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

I sing the melody line for the first four bars of "A Lonely Journey", quietly, very slowly and with minimalistic accompaniment. That gets the audience familiar with and interested in the main theme. Then I stop singing and switch to piano. I don't shy away from the tedious repetition at the end; I make it longer, and speak over it: "It's over as quickly as it began."...

I talk about The Rules, and then play "Variations On V.O.V." and the three following movements...

I play "Fugue State", with expert precision due to the eight hours a day I spend working on it. It repeats the rhythm with entirely different notes, in a difficult bit of composition which took me a long time, with one small comic tangent which is the same note-for-note in the two versions. Then it starts on a third melody line with the same beat, and at that comic interlude it drags it out immensely and ridiculously...


2011, October 31st, 21:01 and 10 seconds

View the struggle of my October 2011Daily performance reviews for October 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for October 2011

I think this was a mostly successful month.

Please tell me you're kidding.

Not at all. It's a redemption storyline, as I told you was an option after the first day. The theme of the month was panic, and how that precipitates a downward spiral into the usual addictions and lack of control. We started out with no control at all, our failures feeding on each other until it seemed like there was little to life but the failure.

You're exaggerating.

I'm dramatizing.

Could you possibly "dramatize" within the confines of what actually happened?

Okay, I'm exaggerating. It wasn't as bad as I make it sound. But certainly we were losing control. The new rule -that if we go under 6/10 for the month, we can't have certain kinds of entertainment-

I'm starting to think that was a bad rule.

It's a wonderful rule!

You came up with that rule!

Yes, but now that I see how it works in practice...

What happened this month won't happen again.

Let's recap what happened and not get too sidetracked. We're in danger of making a post that doesn't stand on its own.

Very true. We started out with little control. I'm sure we all had the feeling that panic mode wasn't going to end, and that we therefore would not get the entertainment we sought, and it followed that there was no harm in entertaining ourselves -prolonging panic mode in the process!

I would like to say, for the record, that I didn't mind. I just do my thing, I don't care about comics or the web.

That is true. You had four days, with an average of 9.25/10! Truly remarkable.

I'm sure you will take that into account when allowing days in this coming month. If the characters with higher scores don't get to play more than the characters with lower scores, then what is the incentive for any of us to do well?

We're getting sidetracked.

But you know I'm right.

Yes! Yes, you will have at least 60 hours in November. You have my word on that.

Where is that time coming from, exactly?

Getting back to my summary, the failures fed on each other but we started taking our days more seriously and got back into the mindset where the average score from the month actually mattered. We worked our way up, and then we fell back down, and then we finally made it past 6/10 and ended with our heads just barely over the water - an average score of 6.11/10. If the last day had gone under 4/10, which it almost did because of a lack of desire to exercise and deal with hygiene, we would have ended still in panic mode and the story would be very different. But we did make it through, by the skin of our teeth, and that's the important thing.

Plans for the month aren't the important thing?

No.

You've never acted like that before.

I can't force anyone to do things they don't want to do. The plan was good, and it would have been great if everyone played along from the start, but it took some time for some of us to get into the mindset where the plan seemed like a good idea, and I respect that. At the end of the day we did accomplish what I wanted us to.

Did not. "whimsy and entertainment will need to (temporarily) take a backseat to efficient productivity." Those are your words. I don't see that.

By the end, we were avoiding comics entirely. That's not as far as I wanted to go, but it took effort and next time we'll go farther. One step at a time.

"Efficient productivity" is my department. I was called on three times. How do you explain that?

You're not the only one who can make progress! We had a sextuple Addict!

Yes, FreeCell is exactly what I think of when I hear "productivity".

You're being petty.

Speaking of "progress", I'd like to either get rid of the rule that says I can't be productive, or take my game-restriction out of the panic mode rules. As it was, I could find absolutely nothing I was allowed to design a day around during panic mode.

It was an oversight. I'll change your rules so you can be productive from now on.

That would take away something that sets the Gamer apart from the group. This world doesn't matter to him as much as virtual worlds. It adds a different perspective to the group, and I don't want to lose that.

If I take him out of the panic mode rules, like I did with the Person, it takes away the motivation for him to get out of panic mode. If the score stays low, he keeps playing games forever.

True.

I'm not opposed to the idea.

Then definitely true.

Hey!

I've got it. The Gamer's days during panic mode will be no longer than 12 hours in length, and must be immediately followed by the Worker.

What?

Clever. You restrict it, and you pair the Gamer with the character who will balance him out.

Wouldn't one of those be enough? I'm okay with the twelve-hour thing, really!

He can't take a day without giving me one as well? I love it.

Can we talk about this?

The pairing with the Worker is what actually makes sense for panic mode. The idea is that to get out, we need to be more productive than usual. Which I admit, I am reconsidering...

No, see, this is what I'm saying. It's absolutely perfect. After this past month, everyone is going to be taking the threat of panic mode very, very seriously. We know how bad it is. We know the constant guilt we've felt.

Again, for the record...

Not you! I get it! Anyway, even the... you know, I didn't even say we all felt it! I just said "we". That applies to me, and at least a few others.

Okay, sorry.

I liked you better when you were stoic and mysterious. Anyway, even the Gamer now is afraid of panic mode, because of the new psychological component where he doesn't want the Worker to get a day. I hope this doesn't backfire and get the Gamer to ignore the Rules altogether.

Well, that's why I threw in the twelve-hour thing.

Ah, excellent.

I'll go ahead and add it in.

You all suck.




Over the course of October, we:
  • Reached node 86 in the programming of Gamer Mom
  • Started on a new tune
  • Posted not one but two interactive blog posts
  • Strengthened a few relationships

That's not a very long list. What about Angles and Circles, which you said you'd figure out what to do with? What about the plays? What about finishing Gamer Mom, instead of just taking a few steps with it? I could have accomplished more than this, all by myself.

You probably could have. But we're doing more than just accomplishing things. We're still doing character-building.

Enough with the character-building! You really think the Musician and the Programmer are better off now that they've had days where you conveniently look the other way if they mess up? If you want this ideal get-together thing or whatever it is you want, stop talking about it and do it already!

Okay, how about this. For November, we'll each write our own parts of the Plan.

Great, more Randomly Capitalized Words. That'll make what you're saying more worthwhile, for sure.

I would like to figure out where Angles and Circles is going. I don't know if that'll take one day or five, but that's my goal. I'm going to declare that intention at the beginning of the month, and you can all join me. My thinking is that you'll care more about the plan if it's your plan.

I'm not much of a talker. Just give me the days, and I'll use them.

That's fine. But the thing is, if you say what you want, the rest of us can help you get it. So, for instance, the Worker can spend some time on your music as part of his "helping other people" goal. But no deadlines this month. Or at least, no deadlines that we all have to listen to. You can make your own deadlines, but we don't have to listen. I'm just finding that when deadlines are missed, it creates a depression that outweighs the motivation the deadline created in the first place.

Without deadlines, we don't get anything done. We just sit around doing nothing, like we did this month.

Well, we'll see. I'm still new to this whole planning thing, and I'm feeling it out as I go. But like I said, I think this was a pretty successful month. We're in a better place emotionally and as a group than we were at the beginning.

Whatever.

From now on, I want all of us to remember what it felt like to be stuck in panic mode, and how hard it was to get out. And I want all of us to do our hardest to never have to panic ever again. Agreed?

Sure. Give me some days, no panicking necessary.

Oh, would you please shut up.

The Programmer
The programmer has a keenly analytical mind, and relishes the opportunity to test it. If he finds a challenge he can't overcome, he turns it over and approaches it from different angles and searches the web for ideas and runs experiments until a solution has been found. The programmer is frustrated by unclear goals, and delighted by rule system games of all kinds.

Friday, May 08, 2015

Harel gives me the contact information of someone who wants to make an online "name necklace" store. I contact him with some URLs of my work. A month later, he writes back asking how much it will cost to imitate another site of the type, with various kinds of necklaces and a preview of each one. The "preview" part has me excited -a chance to show off not just my HTML5 <canvas> skills, but also my interest in typography. Not too difficult, really, to create a font for use in necklaces and Javascript live previews.

I write back with a list of questions that I need answered before I can estimate the price: Are they making the jewelry themselves? Do they already have a font, or are they looking for an original one? (The font used by the site they cited as inspiration has some clear deficiencies for use in such a necklace, with some letter combinations turning out nearly illegible. I'm looking forward to the logistical challenge of making all possible names look good.) Are we talking about English only, or also Hebrew? How many different types? (Each extra design will naturally lead to extra programming.) Are they only looking for the Javascript script, or would they also like interface design for the page? Is it important to provide support for Internet Explorer 7 and 8?

Three months later, he writes back with answers to my questions. I sum up the work involved, and offer my estimate of 3 weeks and 1,400 shekels for the job, which strikes me as very reasonable. He says that's a steep price; they were expecting more in the vicinity of 700 shekels. Surprised and disappointed, I say I'm very sorry, but I don't think anyone will do what they're looking for at that price, and we part ways.


2011, October 24th, 01:46 and 22 seconds

Advanced Freecell

Here's a little variant of Freecell which I play with a Sticheln deck when I've got nothing better to do. The deck is 1-12 in six suits. Instead of red going on black and black going on red, each color can go on the two other colors that are related to it. That is to say, purple can go only on red or blue, and blue can go only on purple or green. The deck is dealt into nine piles rather than eight, and you can hold five cards instead of four. Here's a quick and dirty computer version. I know some of my readers are colorblind, so I included symbols for the suits. Click to select a card, double-click to send a card either to the foundation or the free cells. You can only undo one move at a time, so be careful.


seven comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger The Reish Galuta of the Geula said:

Advanced freecell is quite fun. This could actually be a commercial success as an app I believe.

Forget your 6 month projects, this one is going to be your first big hit. :)

I love the symbols by the way, they are great.

Tamir said:

I was enjoying this until I lost because I couldn't hold more than four cards. I'm confused. That's a bug, right? You said I could hold five, and there's that fifth empty rectangle...

 Mory said:

You can hold five cards. I don't know what the problem was, but let me know if you encounter it again and I'll look into it.

Blogger Kyler said:

Hey Mory,

I feel like I can relate all too well to your Dear Imaginary Friend...

I guess in some sense I am the Imaginary friend. I exist on the internet, providing some art and responses to emails and things of that sort. There was even the brief Skype call. But I am not that far off from being an Imaginary friend. I read your blog. I imagine what your life is like and what is happening on the other side of the earth, so in a sense, you are my imaginary friend.

I suspect that your blog is one of the most monumental pages on the internet. The more you add the better it gets. Sometimes I wish that my blog could be as interesting as yours.

But back to how I feel I relate.
Right now I too am feeling like I am in a rut.

I finished school. I finished as well as I possibly could. I am really good at school. But real life has little to do with school. I am getting a few odd jobs. Not enough to really sustain myself, but enough drag on the time that I can try to be an independent artist.

And I feel like I have every possibility open to me. The possibility of the dream of just being an artist, full-time and independent is right in front of me for the taking, but I don't really know how to grab at it.

I apply for festivals and get rejected, and I tell myself that rejection is part of the process, that I just have to try harder and submit to more places.

But than the motivation runs out and I feel like I am stuck in one place and don't know where to go.

I have a few projects that are all crawling forward, with tiny spurts of progress, but I can't pick up momentum.

I'm thinking about posting the Summit online publicly because it has been lazing around way too long and I don't believe that the festival circuit is going to bring me any meaningful success.

I know that I am going to get out of this slump and that is what keeps me moving forward. I'm learning little bits of stuff everyday, and making little bits of stuff too. And that will get me through.

Well that was a long blathering comment.

Kyler

Anonymous said:

Re: Imaginary friend:

First of all, I wish it were easier to post comments on the relevant posts. but its not my blog, its yours.

I'll spare you the platitudes on what kind of life is worth living and stuff.

I've always been impressed that you actually DO things. You say you develop games, and then make them. You say you compose music and then do it. you decide to write a blog of the likes hasn't existed and do so.

I was thinking about Kyler's comment about how he wishes his blog was your like yours. well, i wish mine was more like yours too.

Anonymous said:

the previous comment was unfinished and this stupid thing posted it. I hope it made sense, because i have no idea where i left off.

 Mory said:

Sorry, I should have put up a new commenting section a long time ago. I'll add a new one now. I used to have comments for each post (way back when I used Blogger instead of writing the blog with a text editor), but I was always disappointed when no one wrote. I feel like this is better. Though, if the comments really start pouring in all of a sudden I'll have to rethink things.

If you'd like to make a change to a comment, write me the corrected version at Mory@TheBuckmans.com and I'll be happy to edit the text.

Post a Comment




2011, October 23rd, 13:20 and 4 seconds

A Matter of Control

Many people have their lives chosen for them. God gives 'em a handful of personality traits, society gives two or three tracks that mesh with those qualities, random happenstance narrows the possibilities down to one which seems to work well enough, and there goes life. That's not me. The plan I've chosen for my life (which includes inventing or reinventing a minimum of five art forms) doesn't mesh with my personality traits, and I've decided that that doesn't matter. Chance does not govern my life, nor does society. Some people run through their days on autopilot, because their lifestyle is preset. But for me, every morning is a new life decision: who will I be today?

I will be the productive Worker, following a rigid schedule with robotic efficiency.
I will be the carefree Explorer, moving from place to place in search of interesting experiences.
I will be the meticulous Programmer, hungry for a new challenge.
I will be the single-minded Addict, who knows what he loves and won't waste time on anything less.

What activity goes first? (This one will get the biggest burst of energy.)

Gamer Mom is my highest priority, being a game that so many people will be interested in.
I haven't worked on Trial by Jury much. Gilbert & Sullivan will be a fun start.
The blog needs work.

I watched two episodes of Phineas and Ferb. Now how should I start the day? It ought to be something exciting.

Gamer Mom is exciting. It's the most exciting thing in my life right now.
I'll watch one of the twenty movies sitting on my hard drive.
I'll walk to Tel Beit Shemesh, and sit in one of those ancient caves for a few hours.

Mental warm-up! Which puzzle game should I play?

I'll continue the second Professor Layton. Not particulary challenging, but varied.
SpaceChem will be a real challenge.
"Advanced Freecell" is always fun.

What will be the subject of today's addiction?

The blog
Gamer Mom
The works of Gilbert & Sullivan

I watched two episodes of Phineas and Ferb. Don't worry, the episodes are short. Carry on.

Three hours of Gamer Mom, then Trial by Jury for 1:30, and finally the blog for 1:15. Then two hours of TV to unwind, and we'll score early.Three hours of Trial by Jury, then Gamer Mom for 1:30, and finally the blog for 1:15. Then two hours of TV to unwind, and we'll score early.Three hours of the blog, then Gamer Mom for 1:30, and finally Trial by Jury for 1:15. Then two hours of TV to unwind, and we'll score early.
Five hours of Gamer Mom, the blog for four hours, Trial by Jury for 45 minutes, and then three hours of TV.Three hours of Trial by Jury, then a quick runthrough of Cox and Box, a little more work on The Tenth Man, and then Gamer Mom for four hours and we'll finish with TV.Five hours on the blog, then Trial by Jury for two hours and Gamer Mom for three hours. We'll finish with 2:30 of TV.
Six hours of Gamer Mom, four hours of organizing and editing comics, 45 minutes of Trial by Jury and 3:30 of TV.Two hours for each of the three plays I'm in, then the blog for four hours, and finally two hours of TV.Six hours of the blog, four hours of organizing and editing comics, 1:30 of Gamer Mom and three hours of TV.
One hour of Gamer Mom, then an hour and a half each of all three plays I'm in, three hours of comics editing and two hours of TV.Three hours of Trial by Jury, four hours of organizing and editing comics, then write a blog post about comics for three hours and end with two hours of TV.One hour of blogging, then an hour and a half each of all three plays I'm in, three hours of comics editing and two hours of TV.

Well, I don't really have the energy to do that right away.

Find some energy, deep down!
It's the Explorer. Just do whatever you feel like; this shouldn't be difficult.

Well, I don't really have the energy to do that right away.

If I try hard enough, I can convince myself that the blog isGamer Mom is19th century comic operas are the only thing in the world I care about!
I can't be bothered.

I watched two episodes of Phineas and Ferb. Not really enough time for a puzzle game now, so I'll just go ahead and declare the challenge for the day.

Find a way to figure out in Javascript whether a font has loaded, so that I can program "Living in Hyrule"'s resizing function more elegantly.
In Angles and Circles, if you get too close to a line you start sliding for no apparent reason. I know that game's been shelved for now, but we'll probably get back to it eventually. And anyway, I'm curious why that's been happening.
I'll look into ways to limit program access during panic mode or for certain characters, hopefully which won't require regular root user shenanigans.
Figure out how to connect Linux to Windows printers via a network.

"I'm not good enough, but today is going to be perfect.". By the way, it's getting kind of late to eat lunch, since I've watched another eight episodes of Phineas and Ferb. (Good show.) Should I bother starting the day yet, or should I have lunch first?

Lunch first. After all this time of breaking the rules by watching TV without keeping track, an extra lunch thrown in won't make a difference.
No, protocol matters. Just one more episode to get the show out of my system, and then Gamer MomTrial by Jurythe blog without delay. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.

It's getting kind of late to eat lunch, since I've watched another eight episodes of Phineas and Ferb. (Good show.) Should I bother starting the day yet, or should I have lunch first?

Lunch first. After all this time of breaking the rules by watching TV without keeping track, an extra lunch thrown in won't make a difference.
No, protocol matters. Just one more episode to get the show out of my system, and then Gamer Mom. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.some highbrow movie that'll get me inspired. I can have lunch a few minutes into that.I'll go. I can bring a sandwich with me.straight into programming. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.straight to the Linux thing. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.the blog without delay. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.Gamer Mom without delay. I can eat lunch once I've gotten back on track.I'll start with, say, The Gondoliers. I know nothing about that one, and I may be in it next year. Ooh, I can listen to the phonograph record!

This is getting a bit silly- it's 5:30 PM, and all I've done today is watch Phineas and Ferb and eat lunch. This is what I underwent that whole long character arccharacter arc for?!

I can still salvage my plan for the day. I'll start now, do everything I would have done if I'd started six hours ago, and just end the day tomorrow afternoon. Nothing happened here.
But there are things I was planning to do tomorrow... why does this have to be so complicated? Okay, I'll just get a few hours of Gamer Mom in, a few hours of Trial by Jury in, a few hours of blogging in, a few hours of Gamer Mom in, a few hours of "exploring" in, a few hours of exploring in, a few hours of programming in, in a few hours of fighting with Linux, a few hours of blogging in, a few hours of Gamer Mom in, in a few hours of Cox and Box and Trial by Jury, and that'll be it.
Not good enough... maybe I should ditch the plan entirely?
This isn't right, and I don't understand how I got here. I need for the Thinker to take over.

What a delightful show. How do they stay so consistently entertaining?

Enough Phineas and Ferb already!

What a delightful show. How do they stay so consistently entertaining?

Enough Phineas and Ferb already!

I think I started on the wrong foot. Let's try this again. What will be the subject of today's addiction?
Gamer Mom is what I decided I was going to work on. Trial by Jury is what I decided I was going to work on. The blog is what I decided I was going to work on. I'll just do some Gamer Mom, like I said I would. I'll just watch a movie, like I said I would. I'll just sit in a cave, like I said I would. The fontAngles & Circlespermissionsprinter thing should only take a few hours. The blog Gamer Mom The works of Gilbert & Sullivan
Forget Gamer Mom, I'll practice Trial by Jury. Forget the play, I'll give my neglected blog some attention. Forget the blog, Gamer Mom is more important. That moment has passed. I'll replay Flower instead. My head's really not there right now. I'll just set up the printer, play some puzzles and call it a day. I haven't officially allocated any time yet. The printer can be handled just as well by the Worker, so I'll pass the day to him. The works of Gilbert & Sullivan The works of Gilbert & Sullivan Gamer Mom
I haven't worked on the blog in a while. I really should do that. Neither of those is nearly as important as Gamer Mom. Trial by Jury would be more entertaining, so it's more likely to lure me away from TV. Neither of those sounds quite awesome enough. I need to think of something else, something really mind-blowing. There's nothing in my Rules that calls for a practical task, so SpaceChem (if I may indulge in a bit of selfishness) actually is the most surefire way to get a good score for the day. Maybe setting up the printer is just too boring a "challenge" to fill a day. I should pick one of the more interesting problems to deal with. Gamer Mom The blog The blog

Enough messing around. Let's play the Thinker.
I'll just read blog posts for hours until my life makes sense.
I'll close myself in my room and not let myself out until I've figured out what's wrong with me.
I'll browse the web.

A wise decision.Sounds good.Makes sense.I think that's probably the best choice. If I gave up the most basic part of my plan, I'd be demotivated from making a plan tomorrow! Rigidity would certainly have led to burn-out. With less time left, it's necessary to be more careful in selecting activities.That's the spirit. Everything will be sorted out in no time! On an unrelated note, I've watched the rest of the season, and am now in the middle of the first episode after that.

Numbskull!
Nitwit!
Ne'er-do-well!

It's getting close to the end of the day. But according to the Rules, the "day" hasn't actually begun yet.

By the Rules, the day was supposed to start at the instant I started watching TV this morning!
If I overlook these hours, I might be able to recover from this lapse of control.

Yes, but I didn't start the day then, and that provides a neat little loophole now.

This is a zero-point day. Period.
If this is a zero-point day, and tomorrow happens to be a zero-point day, that screws us for the entire month! Or you could just look the other way, we'll give you your lovely "Mory 3.0" day, and no harm's done.

If we just "overlook" lapses in control, that'll become acceptable behavior. And before you know it, the entire set of Rules has lost all its usefulness.

Settle down, 3P0. It's just a bit of entertainment.
We're scoring. Now.

Let's see... UltraEdit, new day, 0 points, notes: "I didn't make any formal notation for the day, and did nothing other than watching TV. I deeply apologize"... am I wording that right?

Well, the day's already screwed. Might as well watch more Phineas and Ferb.
No! Under no circumstances am I to watch more TV! I am in control of my life!

It's decided, then. Today never happened. (Great episode.) Now then, there's another two hours until I go to sleep. What should I do with it?

More Phineas and Ferb?
No! I am in control of my life, and I'm going to make something out of it!

I watch another episode.


2011, September 28th, 17:41 and 10 seconds

View the well-meaning awkwardness of my September 2011Daily performance reviews for September 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for September 2011

This is going to be short, not because there's not a lot we need to talk about but because there are less than four hours until the Rosh Hashana holiday that will take up the rest of the month.

It's a shame you didn't remember that at the beginning of the month.

Yeah, he's a bit of a moron.

It's especially a shame because if the musician had more time he might finally come up with some music that's marketable. We don't have anyone else who's allowed to make money on a regular basis.

You make money.

I rely on other people's schedules. You won't let me take over full-time, so there you go.

And if you took over full-time, you wouldn't be able to protect yourself against the big bad Addict.

Low blow.

I apologize, it was a mistake, it happens.

It wouldn't have happened if you'd actually taken your job seriously.

Point taken.

Don't just say, "point taken"! That's meaningless!

I'm sorry. Calm down.

You let me down.

I know, and I'm sorry. I was making an effort to give the explorer opportunities this month, and there's not time for everyone.

But apparently the Addict gets as much time as he wants.

Enough. We don't have time for bickering. I set 11 objectives for the month, and we've hit 4 of those. Four.

I don't like Achievements.

I don't care. I want to know what went wrong.

The Addict went wrong.

No, that only happened because the worker was overstressed because we saved everything for the last minute.

I have a solution for that. Or at least, something to try. I've noticed that our average scores for the month aren't what they were in earlier stages of the game, when we tried to hit 7/10 each month to "level up". That was a good incentive, which had us scrambling desperately to reach 7/10 and stay there.

I could do without that hanging over my head.

I think what we're doing now is ten times crazier than what we were doing then. Of course we're not getting the same scores - we've fried our head.

Don't be cute. Programmer, continue.

I'd like to institute a "panic mode", to be activated any time we dip under 6/10 for the month. Until we get back over 6/10, there will be no TV (whatsoever), no comics (even editing), no movies, no music for anyone other than the Musician, and a strict limit of two hours of gaming per game-day.

Wow. I vote yes.

There are legitimate reasons to watch things with other people sometimes.

Then we'll leave you out of the rule.

And me too. I can't make progress with a two-hour day.

You can make progress on other things. It doesn't have to be gaming.

I hate this rule.

Okay. Shall we vote?

Yes, of course. I vote yes, obviously you're voting yes, and the worker has already voted yes which makes three out of eight.

Seven, really. The Addict never shows up.

I don't care either way.

One abstention, and I take it the Explorer votes against?

Right.

I'm torn. On the one hand I see the idea behind it. But on the other hand I like that other guys can give me music to work with. I guess I have to vote no, unless you take out the bit about music.

Music can be an addiction like any other.

That was my thinking.

Then my vote is no.

Same goes for me.

Then the vote is tied, three to three.

Like I said, if you take out the bit about music you have my vote.

If that's the game we're playing, then you'll have my vote if you take out the ban on movies.

Why would I take out-

It makes the most sense to take out the limit on games. When have we ever gotten too addicted to games to do other things?

These all seem just as arbitrary.

I don't want to take out any of these things! The rule is defined correctly. If the musician gets what he wants, he doesn't have an incentive to push the average score up to 6/10, which really isn't so high when you think about it. If the explorer gets to watch movies, he doesn't have an incentive to be more creative. And if the gamer wants to lose the limit on games, he'll do things other than gaming to get to the point where the limit's gone. And if any of you is the one that gets us out of panic mode, and it's clear that it's your high scores that did it, don't you think we'd be thankful enough to give you a few more days? You're all coming out of this with more opportunities.

It does make sense. I'll change my vote to a "yes".

Then the vote is 4 to 2. Would anyone else like to change their votes, before we wrap this up?

What's the point? It's over.

Okay then. The rule will be added. Programmer?

On it.

You didn't say anything about web browsing!

I didn't think of it until just now. Does it change your vote?

I voted no!

Exactly my point.

People! Must we be so petty? Regardless, it's possible that this might change things for someone. Does anyone want to change their vote?



No? Okay then. Programmer, I think it's a good rule and hopefully it'll discourage us from having more months like this.

What, these meetings weren't enough?

Please cut it out with the crabbiness, all of you. It's quite irritating.

But justified, in some cases.

Fine! What would you like?

I would like for you to not promise me I'm going to get days, when you have no intention of letting that happen.

Now, you know very well that's not what happened. It was an honest mistake.

The fact that you were able to make such an obvious mistake, which a double-check would have revealed immediately, shows how much you're committed to leading us.

I will double-check my decisions from now on.

That's all I ask.

You're right.



Okay, anything else anyone would like to bring up?

What, you're going to ignore the big elephant standing in the room?

What, the Addict?

No, not the Addict. I'm talking about the fact that we had 11 objectives, and we did 4 of them.

I mentioned that. But if you're saying that we should talk about that more-

That's what I'm saying. How is it that we messed up so spectacularly?

The new rule will help.

To hell with your rule. I mean, don't get me wrong. I shouldn't say that, it's a good rule. But it's not enough. It was the end of a week, and still no one had lifted a finger to meet the deadlines because apparently I'm the only one who cares about that.

Apparently.

That's not what happened. You need to look at the performance reviews before making accusations like this, Worker. We're talking about the 11th to 15th, right? I had a few character-building days-

What a waste of time.

I had a few character-building days, and during one of them (though I had no obligation to do this) I met one of the goals.

No you didn't.

I most certainly did, I finished Uncharted.

You finished a game. Whoop-dee-doo.

Again, I do not appreciate your tone.

What about the actual goals? By which I'm referring mainly to Angles & Circles.

I ran into a problem. I needed the addict to figure out how to get around it.

If I may speak on behalf of the Explorer, I think it turned out to be an unrealistic goal and it would have been fine if we'd continued without making it.

What? You said the deadlines were set in stone!

Are you talking about this?:

Plans may be added as the month advances and throws life's randomness into the equation, but these deadlines will stay fixed. This is going to be the sort of month that proves the value of the game.

Well, you were right. We proved how much the game was worth this month.

We did a few things...

Those were your words. What do you think we've proven?

That we still have a lot of work to do.

Understatement of the year. But let's focus on the fact that you said the deadlines were fixed, and then totally left me thinking there was more than I could possibly deal with!

Programmer, do you have any ideas?

Could you possibly be specific about the problem?

Certainly. I set a goal for the month which turned out halfway through the month to be a bad idea. But that was seen to be the case on the Explorer's day, and he has no obligation to worry about such things. So the next character suffered because I hadn't had time or reason to notice a problem. Now the Worker feels that he should have been informed of a necessary change, and I don't see how that could have been possible given the situation.

Uh huh. Couldn't the Worker have paused the day, thought about it, and recognized the problem? Planning is allowed during breaks.

The worker wouldn't necessarily have recognized the problem.

What was the problem?

We couldn't continue on Angles and Circles without deciding what we're doing with the game in the big picture.

That sounds like a job for the Thinker, not the Addict.

Sure, whoever.

It's really simple. The Thinker should have noticed a problem during the performance review. The Thinker has control for a few minutes every single day for the performance reviews - he should be able to deal with things like this and warn the others about necessary changes.

That would require the Thinker to act like he's responsible for all of us.

Sure.

I'll do my best to keep an eye on all of you.

That's not good enough.

It's all I can do. If you think I'm not doing my job properly, you can always take off points during my own performance reviews.

I think I'll do that.

What, and push us closer into panic mode? You wouldn't dare!

Panic mode has nothing to do with it. If I'm doing something wrong, it's your obligation to the group to let me know.

Well, it's kind of hard for me to notice you're doing things wrong, when I don't get even a single day!

I think it's time to wrap this meeting up -we're running in circles.

No plans for the month?

Plans for the month. We're running into all the holidays now, so we'll need to make the most of every minute. I'm thinking the Worker on Motza'ei Shabbat, to do Gamer Mom, post the Hyrule post, and maybe start learning the plays if there's time. I don't want to tell you how to manage your time, you'll see what you've got.

I should be able to do all that.

Great. After that I want a triple day for the Addict, to do things on the blog.

You can't be serious!

There's too much that needs to be done on it for a short day. I'm not satisfied with the pace of two posts per month. Don't worry, we've taken out the loophole in the day-extension rule, so we won't have a repeat of the Phineas and Ferb incident.

I think we could be using our time better.

Then make the most of the time you've got, and that'll make me more likely to put you in control more often. Beyond that, it's not your call.

You owe me three character-building days.

I was supposed to get, as well.

Programmer, I think we can skip you; I don't think you've ever had trouble staying in character.

I guess you're right. Though, I'm never called on much, so who knows.

If we start seeing a problem, then we'll talk. Musician. I know I owe you... no, you know what? The Programmer has every bit as much to gain from this as the Musician, I owe you both. But I can't give either of you 48 hours in the coming week. It'll have to be after that, but I promise I won't forget about you.

And what about the rest of us?

Wait for your turn. I'm sorry this is taking so long, but we only have so many days to work with.

Maybe we should cut back on social days. Like, maybe we don't need to put everything down every time Moshe wants to come over.

Hey!

Worker, you are out of line. It is the Person's right to get control whenever a social opportunity arises. I'd like to get back to the plan. Please don't interrupt me.

After the Addict, I'll come in to figure out what we're doing with Angles and Circles. Then the Explorer, maybe dealing with Angles and Circles but definitely continuing Gamer Mom.

If I feel like it. Not promising anything.

You want to work on Gamer Mom because you recognize its importance. Don't be a troublemaker. After him, we'll have two Worker days in a row because there will be so much to get caught up on. After that the Musician gets three days in 48 hours, and then the Programmer gets three days in 48 hours. I don't know specific dates yet, I'll need to sit down with a calendar. Though, maybe I shouldn't say specific dates because we saw how that can backfire. My plan for this next month is to focus primarily on Gamer Mom, but to be making significant progress on everything else as well: the blog, Angles and Circles, "Eshet Chayil",

I'll need you to take a look at that before I get my three days.

Fine. Then somewhere before, after or between the Worker's two days I'll take another. As I was saying, we'll work on Gamer Mom, the blog, Angles and Circles, "Eshet Chayil", the three plays, and Dungeon Master, in that order of importance.

It's too much.

Of course it's too much, but this is the life we've picked.

What about the Fear Itself editing?

Are you kidding me?

No. I'd like to do that.

And what about me?

I don't think Marvel Comics, or Uncharted 2, should be very high on our list of priorities right now! We're coming into Tishrei now, the month of all the holidays! Even without any distractions and interruptions, which isn't going to happen, we don't have a tremendous amount of time! Maybe we should just be focusing on Gamer Mom, and forgetting about everything else?

We need to work on the plays.

And we need the musician to get a good start on making something we can sell!

Eagh! There are fifty minutes left in the month. I would like to wrap this meeting up.

You can't avoid your responsibilities.

I know that, damn it! Over the holiday I'll think about our priorities, and then immediately after Shabbat and before the Worker starts, I'll take an hour and write out what I've decided.

Conveniently enough, that takes all of us out of the discussion.

How meaningful a discussion do you think we're going to have with fifty minutes until the holiday?

You're right, let's wrap it up.

Thank you. If you have more objections to my leadership, bring it up at my next perrfomance review! That will be all.


2011 September 11th, 04:12 and 27 seconds

Perpetual motion


four comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger The Reish Galuta of the Geula said:

Septamber?

Are all months getting colours now?

 Mory said:

Yes, I've been doing that for three months to make the old months look different. Thanks for catching the typo.

Blogger The Reish Galuta of the Geula said:

The link to the Deku nuts post is missing from the Living In Hyrule title page.

It's secret functionality hidden in plain sight (like the deku nuts).

 Mory said:

No, it's there. You might be loading from cache; if you reload that frame, you'll see it.

Post a Comment


2011, September 9th, 00:18 and 22 seconds

A Light Unto The Nations

Last month, I had a conversation that completely changed my political leanings. It was the 9th of Av fast, commemorating the destruction of our holy temple in Jerusalem two thousand years ago. Common religious thought says that we lost the symbol of our religion because we didn't have enough love in our national character to deserve it. When I was in high school from seventh to ninth grade, I was in the Yeshiva run by Rav Yisrael Ariel of the Temple Institute, which actively prepares for the building of the third Temple. He instilled in me a yearning for the Judaism of old, centered aroud a physical and cultural landmark. But still I find the 9th of Av fast a hollow experience, in that it suggests a sadness without calling for any corrective actions. I don't want to sit around and mourn, I want to stand up and rebuild. I want to immediately respond to all the crying about the glory days with the question "What are we going to do about it?". So when the city organized a panel talking about social issues, I walked to it (in my uncomfortable, acceptable-for-the-fast shoes).

The discussion centered around the recent protests all over the country. I first heard of the protests from my mother calling the protestors "spoiled" Tel Aviv kids. I didn't understand what all the hoopla was about: ostensibly these protests were about the price of housing, but it was getting a disproportionate amount of press for the subject. After a while I'd started hearing both sides of the argument: there were a lot of legitimate social problems that were being protested, but the protestors were also using the opportunity to try to knock the current politicians out of power, and replace them with more left-wing candidates. There was some idealism on display, but also the desire to attend a fun social event during the summer vacation. The class split is wider than in other countries, but the economy is doing well by capitalistic standards. I found that my view of the protests changed depending on who I was talking to, because everyone seemed to be making sense to me. The protests have ended now, and still I have no idea where I stand on the subject. Not only do I not know if they were a positive development, but I don't know if they made any impact at all. They were huge protests by any measure, and politicians will be making reference to them to back up their rhetoric, but I suspect the next elections will be between all the same parties with all the same platforms (or lack thereof). Or maybe this really has changed the whole discussion, by making the issues about us rather than about an external threat. Then again, there was a terrorist attack toward the end of the protests.... At the end of the day, I don't know what the story was.

So when a panel of people more qualified than me to understand what's going on all disagreed with each other about what was going on, I felt more confused than ever. When it ended, I started chatting with a neighbor named Itzik. The details of the conversation elude me, but as we walked back to our street, and then for an hour afterward, we tried to make sense of what the point of Judaism is, and where Israel fits into it. We talked about the anthropomorphization of God, and Jewish values in law, and the religious landscape as it exists today and as it used to be, and where we might be going. I brought up the common idea of Judaism as "a light unto the nations", and Itzik threw me for a loop with his follow-up question: "What if we've already achieved that?". If the idea of Judaism is to spread ethical values and social justice throughout the world by setting a good example, then mission accomplished! Compared to the world of antiquity, our modern world is very humane. Most of the western world are built on a foundation of rationality and Judeo-Christian ideals. But if Judaism has fulfilled its purpose, I countered, then why aren't we at the end of the story already? Where's our Messiah? Where's our Temple? And he laughed at a little at the childishness of the remark. Itzik does not place much faith in an "end of days" scenario to magically solve the world's problems.

But then, what's next? If we've already served our purpose, then maybe the Kharedim with their radical isolationist attitude are actually making sense. The work in the world is done, and now our reward is to sit around learning Torah all day, not needing to worry about anything going on outside. Replace "Torah" with "The Legend of Zelda", and I can get behind that attitude. But then Judaism is no different from any other selfish lifestyle out there. It's not about any particular religious purpose anymore, it's just a culture. (I do not consider "preserving and enforcing the arbitrary status quo" to be a valid religious purpose.) Itzik told me that the idea of being so rigid about Jewish practices and so obsessive about studying is a fairly recent historical development, trying to undo the damage to the Jewish people inflicted by the Holocaust. If that's the case, then Kharedi Judaism may have outlived its usefulness. And on the other end of the religious spectrum you've got the secular Jews, who want Israel to be a social-democratic country like any other. But then, why here? Why not just move to anywhere in Europe or North America?

I have this underlying axiom, that Jews are not supposed to be like everyone else. With all the sexist, racist and conformist elements in Orthodox Judaism, the idea of a "chosen people" has me holding on to the Jewish story as a worthy cause. Not to suggest, God forbid, that we're somehow superior to anyone else, but just that we've been given a unique burden of being an example for the rest of the world. Every move we make is scrutinized by the rest of the world, and our job as Jews is to make sure that our example makes the world better rather than leaving it in the same place. That's all. Orthodox Judaism will hopefully lose its prominence over time, giving way to more inclusive and enlightened denominations, but the one idea that must always hold is the "light unto the nations" line. As long as the world isn't entirely just, our job isn't done yet.

And where does that leave Israel, a tiny Jewish country in the middle of a region that mostly hates us? Well, that's the most important part of the religion, isn't it? Israel is the representation of Judaism on the world stage. It was founded so that we'd get some peace and quiet free of all the persecution, but if that's the whole plan then it's doomed to destruction again. If we wanted to be ignored, maybe a predominantly Muslim area wasn't the best spot. Antarctica might have been a better choice. In the Middle East, minding our own business and hoping everyone leaves us alone isn't an option. It's simply not going to happen. We'll keep fighting for our lives until one day we lose, and then a majority of the Jewish people will all be wiped out at once. If the plan is just to keep pushing off that event for as long as possible, I'd rather be living in America like my brother with his nice job and his boring non-Jewish girlfriend. I don't care for no-win scenarios. But if the plan's to make Israel an extension of the "light unto the nations" principle, then maybe we've got something to offer the world.

The third Temple can't be exclusive to Jews. I think that would be a fundamental misunderstanding of the point of Judaism. We need to have people coming from all over the world, from all walks of life, to recognize the glory of God and bring some of that goodness back home with them. On second thought, maybe the Temple Mount wouldn't be quite big enough for that. But the country is. The State of Israel should be our third Temple. Israel isn't about learning Torah, it's about looking after the civilians in war and providing a reasonable life for the poor and taking in refugees from Africa and sending humanitarian aid wherever it's needed. We've started in that direction, but there's so much farther to go. Our politicians are good with strategy, but short on compassion. And as the people who've democratically elected those leaders, the same must be said of us.

If Israel and Judaism are to actually do God's work, I can't hold on to my old political positions. I've always just wanted to be left alone. I voted Yisra'el Beiteinu in the last national elections, because they seemed to have the harshest stance on how to deal with the Palestinians and I wanted to get rid of that safety risk. In the last local elections, I voted for the guy promoting unity only because there wasn't a candidate who was strongly anti-Kharedi (which I would have preferred). But if this isn't just any old country, I can't be thinking like that. As an Israeli voter, it is my religious obligation to keep the bigger story in mind. The Muslims are our enemies right now, but they won't always be. These are our cousins and our neighbors. They share our core beliefs, though they might be losing sight of those ideals under all their cultural aggression. And we can't be an effective example of what is good and right in the world while the best-known fact about Israel is that we're fighting the Palestinians. That we're justified in our fight is irrelevant - we are under greater scrutiny than other countries, and we must do better.

The two-state solution is un-Jewish. These are people who are living in our land, and we're aiming to turn a blind eye to their abuse by their rich little would-be dictators. The Israeli majority seems to be okay with the idea of declaring borders between us and them and then letting them all suffer like all the other countries in the Middle East. It's not going to work out for us, either. Do we really want a country with a lower quality of life sharing space with us? I don't know much history, but I find it hard to imagine that that wouldn't lead to violence. And on the other side of the political spectrum are the people like my mother, who'd love to just bomb 'em all and send them running to the other Arab countries. "This is our country!", such Israelis cry, "Get out of it!". No one has an actual solution that's going to work out for the local Arabs, it's all just about getting them to stop killing us.

We need to stop thinking like that, right now. They are living in our country, and it is the compassionate (and therefore Jewish) thing to do to make them feel welcome. We need to immediately, and very publicly, offer full Israeli citizenship to every Arab who's been living here for a while and hasn't been involved in any terrorist activity. We need to take responsibility for the so-called "Palestinian Territories", and the longer we wait the harder it'll be. Their leaders' efforts to declare statehood at the UN this month can't result in anything good for either side, and I wish we'd give them Israeli citizenship to preempt that. The oft-mentioned "demographic threat" to Israel doesn't concern me: if this is a country of ideals (as it should be) rather than bloodline, the existing laws rooted in Jewish values ought to be enough regardless of the demographics. And if Jewish values aren't strong enough to make this a uniquely Jewish country, then why the hell not? As to the threat of Palestinian nationalists undermining the country from within, Moshe had a very good idea: we should have a law stating that traitors to the country will automatically have their citizenship revoked. I would extend that idea to include all people who organize violence for any reason, be they Arab or Jewish. If someone sets aside rocks for the express purpose of throwing them at people on Shabbat, as far as I'm concerned that person has permanently given up his right to be a part of this holy country.

In the first year or two of integrating with the Palestinians we'll need to be prepared for a lot more terrorist plots in our borders, and that means that a lot of the money from the defense budget needs to be moved to the police. Maybe some of the people drafted into the army can be put in the police instead. We're really good at defending ourselves from outsiders, but not as good at maintaining order and enforcing laws. That needs to change. That'll take a lot of money, and the recent protests have brought to everyone's attention just how much of the country's wealth is controlled by a handful of rich families. We need to tax them more.

All of what I'm saying boils down to: we need to start acting like the Jewish people we tell stories about, and not the Jewish people that other people tell stories about. That goes for myself (as self-absorbed a person as I know) as much as anyone else: I have no excuse to put my silly little life in front of worthy protests that I might help with. (People who know me, you may hold me to that.) I need to stop thinking the world revolves around me and start acting like a part of the world. And the same goes for my political leanings. I'm not pining for the good old days anymore. They might have been good for us, but the rest of the world was a mess. That's not good enough. In the next elections, I'll vote for whichever party supports inviting the Palestinians into Israel and aggressively upholding a high standard of ethics and justice as befits a Jewish country.

Hmph. That party doesn't exist, does it.


Monday, November 4, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

2011, August 31st, 18:50 and 59 seconds

View the utter mess that is my August 2011Daily performance reviews for August 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for August 2011

Perspective
New rules

Last month it seemed like the worker had gotten under control. So this month, the plan was to keep going with the other characters, and to give each character the chance to figure out who they are separate from the group. But here we are at the end of the month, and instead of having gotten comfortable with all the characters we've lost the perfect worker. What happened?

It was a bad plan, is what happened. There's too much to do to waste time thinking about things.

That is not a helpful attitude.

I see two problems. The first and most significant is an addiction to comics. The second problem is going to sleep too late, and being tired all the time. This is tied to the first problem, since we all stayed up late reading comics. Clearly addictions are the absolute evil we need to avoid, because they break down everything we build up. I propose a new rule: if in a performance review we ever see that some activity is turning into an addiction, we're not allowed to do that activity for a week afterward, with no exceptions.

Useless. I mean, it's a fine rule, but it changes nothing. I first noted the comics addiction on the 25th, and I said we shouldn't read any comics for a while. We kept reading comics anyway. What good is making it a rule going to do? Anyway, I'm not sure that's the problem. It is a problem, and we do need to be more careful, but it doesn't explain... yestrday, for instance, where there was no comics activity and the worker couldn't keep it together.

I was very tired.

Okay, so that is a major problem, and the fact that the computer shuts down automatically at 3:00 ought to help in that regard.

Unless you stay up reading, like you did last night.

Point taken.

The problem with the month is I didn't have any say in it. You gave me one day, where my activities were dictated by the schedule. If I'd had other days, I would have given you all ideas on how to be less stuffy.

Again, I don't think this is the main problem.

The main problem was a lack of enthusiasm, and the explorer could have helped that.

Thank you.

Without enthusiasm, none of these rules and none of these plans and none of these characters are worth anything at all.

The explorer was criticized for a lack of enthusiasm in his one day.

I already said that that was because my activities were dictated to me, instead of arising naturally from my personality.

I suppose it's possible.

Let's please not take this idea too seriously. We are very very busy these days. I know it doesn't look like it from the sluggishness of this past week, but let's not forget that we are in the middle of no less than eight projects of various types.

We need deadlines.

Yes, we do. We also need to be always moving forward. How's this for a theory: we lost interest in the game because the entire point of the game this month was about wallowing in our own flaws instead of moving forward.

That's an interesting thought. Just as you need to "stick to the plan" precisely or lose all your momentum, so too should we never waver in following the direction for the month. Once we feel like what we're doing is separate from the plan, we lose the plan. That means that the monthly plan needs to always be flexible enough to allow for changes. Maybe that was the problem.

That was in no way similar to what I was saying.

Are we giving up on the character exercise, then?

No, I still think it's important to get each voice right. But let's make that just a small part of the month, and we can include deadlines for everything else.

What if each day of the exercise is just a few hours, and you immediately follow it with another exercise day? It could be the same character, or a different character...

I like the idea of having two instances of one character in a day. Cut the personality down to the essentials, and come up with different variations.

We have to restore the rule about not following a bad day with the same character. It's an important rule.

Okay. No exceptions this time.


I think I understand what everyone wants here. Deadlines, shorter character building, a more active role for the explorer, a limit on comics, and sufficient attention given to everything we need to be doing. I'll write up the plan for September tonight.

We were going to capitalize the names of characters.

That's true. I guess I've gotten used to writing the characters' names uncapitalized, and I didn't even think about it. But it should be capitalized, Explorer, you're right. Should I edit what we've written?

Just move on already. No one cares.

I'll move on. I know the programmer had some rules he wanted to run past us, so we'll let him do that.

Perspective
New rules

The first rule I'd like to suggest is a point incentive for staying in character. For a while now we've been losing points for breaking character, but that's been a one-way street. Now if you particularly excel at playing your character, you get one point.

Just one?

Just one. I don't want to give the impression that as long as you're being yourself, you don't need to care about any of the other rules.

A wise precaution. I doubt anyone will object to this rule. How will you word it?

It'll go after the line about losing points for breaking rules or principles. "Conversely, if the activities of the day present a particularly believable representation of the character, one point will be added (with the maximum still not exceeding ten)."

Did we need to hear that?

No, I guess not. Just add it in, then. No need for the whole fancy arrow business; this is the sort of rule that should have been there from the beginning.

Thank you.


Okay, next rule. We should only allow a day to be extended if it's going well.

That's not a clear rule.

Can you word it more clearly?

Oy, again with the wording!

You said it wasn't clear.

Never mind. Spend fifty years working on getting the words just right, I don't care.

Ignore him. Can you word the rule more clearly?

"If twenty-four hours have passed since the last scoring period, the score for the day must immediately be estimated. (A precise calculation may not be possible before the closing statement and performance review.) If it is estimated that the score for the day (were it concluded immediately) would be 7/10 or higher, then the day may continue. Otherwise, the day must conclude immediately, and the formal review will take place."

Fascinating. There, I think we did need to hear the precise wording.

Isn't that backwards? If you don't have a good score yet, maybe you need the extra time to get it up there!

That's not what we've seen happening in practice. If the day's going badly enough to score under 7/10, there's some essential problem with the approach that's not going to be fixed by just carrying it on longer. We keep hearing the excuse "The day isn't good yet!", followed by the day getting even worse. This will stop that.

I love it.

It does seem like it might work. Any objections?



Seriously, this is a big change. If you don't like it, now's the time to speak up. There won't be another chance.


My scoring goes by progress. With a longer day, I necessarily make more progress. And I'm not sure if I'll always be able to get a seven in twelve hours.

It's more than twelve hours. It's twenty-four hours from the last scoring. So let's say you get eight and a half hours of sleep, you take a half hour to start the day, we'll take off another hour of expected mundanity, you've still got fourteen hours. If in fourteen hours you can't get things done, you're playing the wrong games.

You're right, I take back what I said.

Any other criticisms or concerns?

What if I'm out with friends, and there are more opportunities that I'll miss out on if I don't keep going?

If you're out with friends, you should be having a meaningful enough time to get that 7/10.

Maybe not. Maybe we're just starting out.

In this hypothetical situation, what were you doing for a full day up to that point?

Maybe it was a decent, but not a stellar day so far, and this social opportunity will push it over the edge. Maybe it's a solid six-pointer so far.

He has a point. Six out of ten is respectable.

If it's 6/10, you're still allowed to repeat the character. You can end the day with six points, start a new day as the person, and have a full twenty-four hours to do whatever it is you're doing.

What if it's five out of ten?

Then you've screwed yourself out of the opportunity. Play better, and that won't happen.

I don't like it.

I don't care. It's a good rule.

Programmer, could you possibly lower the cut-off to 5/10?

Five out of ten is a mediocre day. We don't want to extend that.

Okay, I understand what you're saying, but it's not a huge difference.

Seven is the right number. Do you think five makes more sense?

No, but maybe a compromise would be in order.

"Compromise". I can see why you didn't get anything done this month, you don't hav much intellectual integrity.

That is not called for. That is really not called for.

I say we put it to a vote. Musician?

Yea.

Explorer?

I have no problem with it.

This isn't right. You're voting because you know you'll win this way!

You're damned right. Worker?

Anything to reduce wasted time.

I vote for it.

Thinker?

Fine, I get it! You can have your rule.

I vote yes, if anyone cares. Let's put in the rule.

Now if we're done with that little drama, I have a rule of my own to suggest. I would like to formalize a policy we've already been following but could pursue more rigidly: whenever our plans rely on other people, we need to confirm the schedule shortly before relying on it.

Now that's a rule I can get behind.

Like I said, this is nothing new. So let's just add it in. Programmer, do you mind if I just add it in with yours?

Sure.

Done. What do you think of the wording?

It's fine.

Okay. Does anyone have anything else to add to this meeting?



Then we'll end it here.


2011, August 8th, 02:46 and 7 seconds

This needs to be said.

Today I allocated eight hours of my day for data entry work. It was as rewarding as always, with a bunch of new forms thrown in with fun new rhythms to learn. I was working (as usual) on the opposite side of my boss Hadas's desk, and she noted at one point that as I was copying data I was swaying around as though I were playing piano. I hadn't noticed I was doing that, partially because I was too tired to be particularly self-aware and partially because I was just absorbed in the work. I told her that data entry uses the same skill as piano, and she laughed. But it's true: my practice with using my fingers quickly in piano and computer games make me uniquely qualified for this little job I've got. I don't need to look at or think about the keyboard to know exactly what I'm pressing on, so that I can be typing 6 digits per second in a brisk 4/4 meter without having looked at where I'm placing my fingers, and I'll still feel instantly if I've pressed the wrong key. Two women came in at one point to ask Hadas a question, and when they saw me typing away furiously with my head buried in the paper I was copying from one of them asked "Don't you need to see what you're writing?". Having not been aware enough of their presence to immediately process the auditory data of the question, I turned to her and said "What?" while my fingers finished off the string of numbers I was on. She laughed, and Hadas said I was one of a kind, to which I gave a dismissive wave.

Later, in between two files, I got a text message from Dena asking if I could go with her to a movie (Captain America: The First Avenger) next week. I responded that as it happens, I'll be within walking distance of the theater at that day at that time, since I have a rehearsal of Cox and Box scheduled, so that would work nicely. I kept working for a few hours after that, until Hadas wanted to leave. I estimate that there are six and a half hours of work left on this particular group of subjects, so next week after the movie, I'll set my alarm to wake me up early again and put in another day of work. As Hadas and I drove back to Beit Shemesh, she told me what she thinks of the current protests (essentially, that it's political mudslinging masquerading as a social agenda), to which I have no opinion. When I got home I opened the check from my work in the past few months, had dinner and read a short letter from Aviella, who I've continued to correspond with regularly since we starred in Ruddigore together. Then I took a two-and-a-half hour nap, woke up, planned out the rest of the evening, bought the latest "Humble Indie Bundle" collection of independent games, studied the programming techniques I'll need to know for the adventure game Gamer Mom which I'm doing with Kyler, practiced Cox & Box for an hour, and then sat down to write this post. In ten minutes I'll be done with this and I'll go back to working on my collection of backup stories from The Avengers, which often have incorrect chapter numbers that I need to fix in an image editor. And finally I will award myself the perfect-10 score that I deserve for today's work, and go to sleep content.

By any measure, this is a great life. I am happy. I am productive. I have social opportunities equal to my current interest in social opportunities. I feel that my work is not only rewarding in itself, but also rewarded with money and new opportunities of all sorts. I want to wake up tomorrow, and have another day just like this one. I want to make the most of the day after that as well, and the day after that, and so on for the rest of my life. I am satisfied here.

Let me tell you what tomorrow is going to be like. I'm going to wake up at 12:30. I'll get out of bed and head toward the TV to exercise, but get sidetracked by the computer. I'll sit down and waste two hours browsing silly web sites that I've been to thousands of times before. Then I'll begrudgingly get dressed, eat lunch and go back to web browsing. At a certain point I'll be too depressed to go on, so I'll read a book or some comics or play a game or something. I'll keep looking for more distractions and time-wasters, believing in the absence of common-sense that there's enlightenment to be found somewhere in the tedium. At the end of the day I'll put off writing a closing statement because nothing I can possibly say will make that day seem worthwhile, but maybe if I give it a few more hours in the day after that my thoughts will come together and I'll see that I haven't just wasted twenty-four hours. What's actually going to happen is that the few hours in the next day will drag on, until I've wasted two full days and have absolutely nothing to show for it.

I know there are reasons for this behavior. But they're stupid reasons, detached from any kind of reality I'm familiar with. And even if there were a legitimate excuse for it, it still couldn't live up to this life I've carved out for myself which is pretty damned close to perfect. I've figured out how to live, and there's no use wandering around aimlessly any more.


2011, August 1st, 02:34 and 42 seconds

Show the very slow progress of July 2011Daily performance reviews for July 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for July 2011

Not much to say, because the month has gone well.

I haven't gotten a turn yet.

Yes, well, progress has been slow. But character building takes the time it takes, and then you have it for life.

I would think it's a constant effort.

Sure, but it's like riding a bicycle. Once you can do it, you never forget.

It's not worth arguing.

Why, is there something you'd like to say?

No.


Okay. I have to congratulate you on becoming the character we needed you to be.

There's more work to do.

Good attitude.

I think if you gave me more time, I could get everything in our life under control.

Shut up!

I think what the explorer means to say is "no". But it's good that you want to keep going. That's exactly the kind of self-confidence I was hoping for.

I'm serious.

Shut. Up.

Good, very good. Worker, do you have

By the way, are we capitalizing our names now? It seems inconsistent.

You know what, yes. From now on, our names will be capitalized. We should have been doing that from the beginning.

Okay, Thinker.

Unless... I guess we could hold off on capitals until we earn them.

Names Capitalized. Move on.

Oh fine. Worker, is there anything you can say that you've learned about how to play your part? Because it would be best if we could take that and make a rule out of it, so that you never have trouble remembering your lines.

No rule. I just try to do what needs to be done.

I like that, very... what's the word.

Stoic.

Are you sure? Let's see... "one apparently or professedly indifferent to pleasure or pain"

I have a complaint. Your "moments of reflection" make no sense at all.


Explain.

Well, if I'm in the middle of doing something, suddenly stopping in the middle is just an interruption, just because it's 7:40 PM or whenever.

I did notice that you weren't pausing the game.

It's a waste of time.

What if there were some sort of script to follow, so that you're checking whether you're still in character?

It's a waste of time.

Explorer, do you have any thoughts?

Butterflies.

Excuse me?

I'm picturing butterflies fluttering by. It's very dreamy.

Any thoughts that are relevant to the three "moments of reflection"?

It's a waste of time.

You've said that already.


Oh, fine, I'll take the rule out. But I haven't given up on the idea, it just needs more tweaking.

Another complaint I'd like to make is the schedule. There's no reason that we should be ending days at 3:00 while the rest of the world is asleep by midnight. We should switch to a more normal schedule.

It's... hm. I don't think "normal" is necessarily something we're going for.

Don't be repressing me, you.

It's just causing friction between us and the rest of the world, for no good reason. It makes it awkward to do things like go to work and not be tired all day.

You are free to go to sleep whenever you want. And so are we.

Well, that doesn't exactly work, does it? To keep changing sleep schedules?

You never know. Maybe it would.

No, but you know, that's ridiculous. Usually I won't be following myself, which means someone else will be going to sleep at some godforsaken hour, like you going to sleep at 5:30 some nights, and then I'm going to be tired all day.

I think we're all capable of being considerate of such considerations... that's a terrible wording. I think we can take into account such-

It's ridiculous.

Noted. I don't think you'll find anyone with your point of view, though.

What about the Person?

I don't know. Person?



What?

Would you prefer to go to sleep at a normal hour?

I don't know, I generally stay up late on Friday nights talking to people. But I guess during the week it could be cool to be awake in some different hours, sure. I rarely chat with people out of the country, anyway. But right now it doesn't make too much difference. Maybe when you give me enough time to myself to have a social life, I'll care one way or the other more.

Thank you.

Weirdos.

Let's move on and talk about the blog. I'm disappointed you didn't write on it more. It's there for you.

Is it?

It's there for all of us.

Here for all... never mind.

I had more pressing things on my agenda.

Why don't you quickly run through what you've accomplished.

I don't know. I guess I got some work done on Gamer Mom, and Angles and Circles. I probably should have done more.

Mm hm. Well, I guess we can wrap this up.

You haven't been exercising.

That's true. I should have.

Yes.

But I get so tempted by the computer, and I get stuck there instead of going to the Wii.

I was like that too. But you have to push past it.

But what if there's something really interesting in my inbox?

There isn't.

Or some blog that's updated? And here we'll imagine it's an interesting update, and not something silly.

It's always silly. But even if it isn't, you don't belong on the computer until you've started the day properly.

See, I don't think like that.

You should.

I'm always looking for things that might get some thoughts out of me.

Are you thinking particularly profound thoughts immediately after waking up?

Sometimes.

No, you need to be more awake than that. Look, after exercising and showering and what have you you've got hours and hours to read your precious blogs.

That is true. It's just an addiction, isn't it.

Exactly. Some habits are useful. That one isn't.

So just push past it. I'll try to do that.

Maybe you should try doing stranger things, instead of always relying on habits.

Not a very good cake if it's made from stale ingredients.

Right. And I'm saying this because I want my turn already.

I know. Thank you, I'll try.

You'll try what?



I'll look for insight in new places.

Good.

Thursday will be yours whether I'm done or not, so that you can see... what's the name of the movie?

The Tree of Life.

Yes. So I doubt I'll be done in just two days, but you will get a day regardless.

I don't want a day. I want to have a lot of days. I'd do more for the blog than you do.

Let's please not forget how much work there is to be done in Gamer Mom and Angles and Circles, and soon Cox and Box as well. Life goes on whether or not you're playing an exercise.

We'll have to call you and the addict more often, then.


I mean, the addict.



So. What are the things I need to remember?
  1. Look for insight in new places.
  2. Start the day with exercise and hygiene, rather than thoughts.
  3. Make use of the Worker and the Addict frequently.
Am I forgetting anything?

No, I don't think I am. On to August, then.


two comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger P.A.W. said:

I’m curious: in choosing a non-Nintendo console, why did you choose a PS3 over an Xbox 360?

For PS2 compatibility old PS2s are cheap (in the UK; but maybe not in Israel?)

 Mory said:

In a word: Flower. The downloadable game by Jenova Chen is one of the main reasons I'm buying a PS3. But there's also Heavy Rain and Uncharted 2, both of which it seems from internet chatter like I have an obligation to play as a gamist involved in interactive stories. The XBox 360, on the other hand, has no exclusive games I'm interested in. Buying the Playstation 3 wasn't (just) about being fed up with Nintendo, it was about wanting to play particular games.

As for PS2 compatibility, which due to a mistake I don't have, it's not as big a deal as I thought. The main games I wanted for PS2 were Ico and Shadow of the Colossus, which are being rereleased as a bundle for PS3. There are a few games I want from PS2 that I won't be able to play, but not enough to buy a system over.

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2011, July 31st, 21:36 and 55 seconds

Nintendo stretches itself too thin

Nintendo's 3DS system was expected to be a hit. It was the successor to their massively popular DS handheld system, with a neat new feature -a 3D screen!- and more modern technology powering it. But just five months after launch, Nintendo is already reducing the price from $250 American dollars to $170.

This is shocking for a few reasons. Firstly and most obviously, to cut the price this soon is an admission that the launch was an utter failure. I don't know sales details, but obviously these are not happy numbers. And the 3DS isn't that radically different in its business strategy to the DS, so the question is "Why is this necessary?". In CEO Satoru Iwata's statement to the press, he vaguely alluded to the difficulty of selling a 3D screen that only impresses "those who have experienced the system". Around the internet, I've seen a lot of people saying that the price cut is a response to Sony's announcement of the Playstation Vita, a more powerful (and expensive to manufacture) system whose price has been set at $250 to undercut Nintendo. One site actually blamed the relative strength of the Japanese yen for Nintendo's financial problems. And I'm sure all three factors contributed to Nintendo's decision. But it's not like any of these issues were wholly unexpected for a company paying attention to its product, its competitors and the world economy. You don't suddenly reduce the price five months in, which Nintendo has admitted "may cause ... the loyal fans who supported Nintendo 3DS from the beginning, to lose trust in us", because you suddenly noticed some variable that could reasonably have been predicted before launch.

The second thing that's shocking about the price cut is that as I'm learning now from sites doing the math, $250 was actually a reasonable price from Nintendo's perspective. When they announced the 3DS, I was certain it would be sold at $180. But evidently the technology behind it is advanced enough that they couldn't set it at that price and still make a profit. When Sony sells their Playstation Vita, they'll most likely be losing money for each and every system they sell just to have that $250 pricetag which makes them look good next to Nintendo. Once they've got their market share, they'll make the money back with the expensive games they sell. I don't believe that business plan will work in this instance, but it's how both they and Microsoft have done things for years. Not Nintendo, though. As a matter of policy, Nintendo has never sold hardware at a loss. Sony and Microsoft are huge companies who don't blink at financial risks in one of their many divisions. But Nintendo doesn't have that mindset. Or rather, they've never had that mindset until right now. Apparently at $170, they'll be losing around 15 bucks on each sale. Clearly this is not a typical price cut.

This last business-quarter was the first in Nintendo's long history in which they failed to make a profit. Generally when a company's not doing well, they start firing employees to save money. Nintendo is taking a different and altogether more likable approach. Along with the price cut, the bosses at Nintendo have apparently volunteered to take massive cuts to their paychecks. Iwata's salary has gone down by a whopping fifty percent. The other managers lose thirty percent, and all the directors lose twenty percent. This is being framed as a way "for the management to show its accountability for the level of the operating loss of this time and the prospect of no interim dividend".

They seem to be doing everything right to deal with this situation. They're taking a loss to gain new customers, they're appeasing their shareholders, and they're even reassuring their fans by giving away twenty old Nintendo classics as free 3DS downloadables (which most likely costs Nintendo absolutely nothing). But the fact remains that Nintendo is not doing well. The company that created the Wii, which still (as far as I know) has more of the console market than either Microsoft's XBox 360 or Sony's Playstation 3, somehow isn't making a profit. And if you think that's because of what Sony's doing, or because the 3D screen is too hard to sell, then you're not seeing the big picture. This is about the iPhone. Every single decision and announcement Nintendo makes these days is a reaction to the iPhone, and it's not enough.

The 3DS is taking an early price cut because without it, their hardware business will be dead within a year. And the bosses all took pay cuts because Nintendo can't afford to lose a single employee right now. If the company doesn't expand dramatically over the next few years, Nintendo's business model will quickly prove to be unsustainable.

By my estimation, Nintendo has around thirty games in active development at any given time. These range in scale from cheap experiences that can be completed in an hour or two, to Super Mario and Legend of Zelda games with big budgets and generous helpings of content. These games are made by a wide variety of studios, most of them owned by Nintendo but some simply working under Nintendo's supervision. These studios are not all equal in size or ambition. Handheld titles which will be played for just a few minutes at a time aren't given the same budgets or lengthy development schedules that, say, a role-playing game from Monolith Soft. A game that's going to be played on a small screen during a bus ride isn't as polished and deep as a game you spend hours playing in front of the TV.

Expensive games for consoles aiming for technical excellence, and cheaper games for handhelds. This approach has served Nintendo well for decades. But then the iPhone/iPad happened. Suddenly there's a huge market of people wandering around with powerful internet-enabled computers in their pockets, with a built-in store that sells simple and addictive games for a dollar a piece. Nintendo tried to compete directly, by selling their DS update DSi entirely on the basis of their online store. It didn't take off, not to anything near the extent of Apple's offerings. It's hard for me to say why, given that I neither have nor have ever seen a DSi. Actually, that there might be a hint. The gamers most likely to be interested in downloadable Nintendo games likely already owned the DS or the DS Lite, and the DSi, with its internet access and camera, might not have seemed like a necessary purchase while all the new DS games in stores could be played with an earlier model. But like I said, I don't have any experience with the system. It may simply be more awkward to connect it to the internet than an iPhone bought from a cell phone company.

For whatever reason, Nintendo's online store never got big enough to be the bulk of their business. So while they're still steadily releasing downloadable DS games -at the expense of the online Wii store, which has completely dried up- being an iPhone-wannabe isn't their goal. The only way to compete in the long-term with Apple is to go in the other direction. The games need to be so clearly superior to iPhone applications that no one will even consider them to be in the same category. Hence the 3DS and its 3D screen which -for technical reasons involving viewing angle and the limitations of touch screens- Apple is not likely to ever compete with in their handheld products. With the 3DS screen seeming like a window into another world with depth, every game played on it might be a special experience in the way that Avatar was a cultural event. (Well, maybe not that special. But that's the hope.) Consumers will continue to pay a premium despite the much cheaper competition, because they're getting a different class of experience. It's a fine business plan. Just one problem: Nintendo isn't built for it.

The 3D hardware is not enough in itself to impress people. To make the 3DS seem special you need software that shows off the 3D effect with dazzling imagery. If you put a 2D game on there and throw in some 3D gimmickry, gamers start making the Apple comparison again, in the same way that cheaply-produced 3D movies are turning moviegoers off of expensive 3D tickets. Good graphics require powerful hardware, so the 3DS is powerful enough that $250 dollars seemed like a reasonable price. And graphics are expensive on the software side as well. The reason videogame teams these days are so much bigger than in ten years ago isn't because the gameplay is so much more sophisticated - it's all about the presentation. So 3DS games, fitting the "premium" theme, are more expensive than DS cartridges at $40, which is just ten dollars cheaper than a Wii game. When you're talking about a game that's forty times more expensive than the most popular handheld games of today, you need a really high caliber of gameplay to justify it.

There aren't many teams at Nintendo capable of consistently producing large, technically-accomplished and excellent games. There's the EAD team in the Kyoto headquarters which makes Zelda, there's the Tokyo team that does Super Mario Bros., Project Sora (also in Tokyo) which is known for Super Smash Bros., Retro Studios in Texas that revives whatever series Nintendo's not interested enough to do themselves, and maybe a handful of others. These are the guys who have always worked on the console side while the larger number of small teams made handheld games. Now Nintendo has the console people working on the 3DS. The Tokyo platformer experts are making the sure-to-be-lovely Super Mario 3DLand, Retro Studios is helping out on Mario Kart 7, Project Sora is making Kid Icarus: Uprising. Each of these games will be what the 3DS needed at launch.

But while all the big teams are working on 3DS, who's making console games? Well, no one, as it turns out. There's The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword coming out later this year, but other than that the Wii release schedule is almost empty. There are a bunch of small throwaway games like another Rhythm Heaven, a new standard Kirby and some Mario Partys. Few third-party developers make games for Wii because the system is so different from the other two systems and the Wii fans are such a different audience to what they understand that it's barely worth the hassle to make a Wii version of anything. So for hardcore gamers like me awaiting the next big thing, there's nothing. There aren't even many small/quirky experiments coming for Wii to fill the gap, which might seem strange. But I strongly suspect that most of the small teams are now being given projects larger than they've ever done before, and it would surprise me if Nintendo hasn't been hiring a lot of entry-level progammers and artists to fill their ranks. Small teams are fairly useless to Nintendo's new strategy, and until those small teams get bigger the company is relying on a mere handful of studios to meet all their demand.

If you only look at the handheld side of the equation, it was absolutely wrong to release the 3DS when they did. All they had for launch titles were fun but small and unimpressive games like Pilotwings Resort and Steel Diver. It was vital to have Super Mario 3DLand at launch, which with its midair floating can really show off the appeal of 3D. But they weren't ready with it yet because it had only been a year since the Wii's Super Mario Galaxy 2 and it takes the Tokyo team longer than a year to make a great game. The 3DS was launched early, I am convinced, to distract from the Wii. If they waited until they were actually ready, Wii fans would practically forget Nintendo existed and jump ship to Sony and Microsoft. Getting them to buy a new and exciting system, Nintendo hoped, would build momentum through the empty months until the cool 3DS games came out. Launching the 3DS without its games was a calculated risk. It didn't work.

And what of the Wii owners who weren't interested in handheld games? For them Nintendo "announced" the Wii U, a name which sounds like something you'd say upon smelling something nasty. It wasn't a real announcement, because they had absolutely nothing to show. They hadn't finalized the hardware, they hadn't decided how they were planning on selling it, and they weren't ready to announce any games for it! Nintendo's always internally throwing ideas around for their next systems, and then they throw most of those ideas out and stick with whatever seems best. For E3 they just pulled out one of their prototypes -a controller with an iPad-style touch screen- and hoped that would be enough. To their credit, very few journalists seem to be paying attention to the fact that the Wii is being ignored, so I guess Nintendo was successful in changing the message.

To say that the Wii U announcement was premature would be an understatement. Nintendo didn't seem at all sure whether Wii U games would actually use two screens, or if they'd just use one screen but you wouldn't need a TV, or if the touch screen was meant to be used separately from the games themselves. (These are incompatible ideas.) They sent mixed messages about whether the use of multiple controllers (for multiplayer) was actually technically possible using their hardware. There was no attempt at new branding, so many people walked away with the impression that it was a new controller for the Wii rather than a whole new console. Iwata wisely did not point out that everything they were describing could be done right now: the Wii and the DS can communicate wirelessly, so the only thing stopping developers from making Wii games with a touch-screen controller is that no one cares. Nintendo tried this sort of thing with the Gamecube-Game Boy Advance connectivity. It was fun, and no one cared, so Nintendo hasn't made a big deal about connectivity since.

But whatever. Nintendo didn't need to present a coherent launch plan for Wii U, they just needed to reassure the world that they're still alive and kicking in two separate markets. But that's not really the case. The 3DS is DOA, and the Wii has been abandoned. The best studios Nintendo owns are currently rehashing old ideas to keep the company afloat in this transition period. The next step, which Nintendo wants to reach as soon as humanly possible, is to promote all their smaller developers to the same status as the big guys. They want everyone who was previously working on handheld minigame collections now working on new, exciting and big projects. That means combining departments, promotions everywhere, new hires, expanding the group that handles outside companies, etc. This doesn't happen overnight, and you don't want to tell shareholders that you're going to be sacrificing a year or two of profits for the long-term, so the only options left are empty gestures: cut prices, cut paychecks, give out lots of free games. (And if those games get more people to notice the online store, all the better.) Don't get me wrong, they're nice gestures. But they're not going to change much. In order to not be seen as irrelevant at this point, Nintendo needs to restructure itself from the ground up and launch the Wii U with five new games like nothing they've made before, all while simultaneously saving the sinking 3DS from being another Virtual Boy. Best of luck with that. I'll be buying a Playstation 3.


2011, July 3rd, 18:20 and 47 seconds

View the embarrassment that is my June 2011Daily performance reviews for June 2011:(Rules)

Self-meeting for June 2011

I'm just going to start, and whoever pays attention pays attention. I'm going to be in charge here, because this entire multiple-personalty system was my idea and I'm more invested in its success than the rest of you. However, I recognize that as I am now, I am not worthy to lead you. I have been disrespectful, distracted and lazy. And my rules, rather than helping me to overcome these traits, allow me to indulge them. So before I spend even one minute as the self-appointed leader of our life, I'm going to rewrite my entire character page. Please wait for me.



Excuse me, programmer? I need your help for a minute.

Of course.

Thanks for your patience, guys. We'll be done in a few minutes.

Wait'll you see how the rule change works. It was my idea.


Thank you, programmer. At the rules, you'll have to go all the way in to see the new version.

That's so that you can compare the new rules to the old ones. From now on we won't lose anything when making edits. It'll just keep getting deeper and deeper. Which it how is anyway, in real life, but now the format reflects that.

Please take a minute to review the changes, and then we'll begin.

I like the part where you say you won't go over fifteen hours. We'll see if you can stand by that.

Oh, now I realize I should highlight the changes when you get to them. But that means I'd need to use <div> tags instead of <spans>.

We should be doing that anyway, it's bad code.

Does anyone have any problem with me, assuming these revised rules, deciding on how we move as a group? You can rest assured that it's in my best interest to let all of you be the most extreme possible versions of yourselves, because that will make the best story.



Okay then.

June was a disaster. The goals were to be distinct and coherent characters, and to reinvent the blog as a home for all of us. Instead we devolved into an amorphous lump. If the first month of The Rules had gone like this, we would have immediately declared the game a failure and gone back to one personality. Which is essentially what we have here anyway, because if you take out the names, colors and statements from the performance reviews you can barely tell who's who. Despite the scoring, despite the opening statements and despite the shell script, the multiple characters are becoming a thin façade for the person I was at the bottom of this page.

The most important cure to this problem is belief. True belief, the kind that shapes worlds, is not something which can be established once and then forgotten. It is an act of willpower that must be constantly maintained. If we do not believe we exist, we will not exist and all that will be left is the ambiguously-defined person.

Hey!

I call it like I see it. We still need to work on you.

You don't even have a color yet! You're just there.

Anyway. In order to remember the rules at all times, I'm instituting a new rule about "moments of reflection". At three preset times each day, we need to stop whatever we're doing for a few minutes and ask ourselves whether we're satisfied with what we're doing. Hopefully this will cut down significantly on out-of-character behaviors.

You didn't tell me about this.

I wanted to move quickly and the details weren't challenging. It would bore you and be a waste of your time to have to deal with this. And it would slow us down. We need to be speeding up. I've already set up an alarm on the computer, and we'll see how it goes. Anyway, what was it I was talking about? ... I see I mentioned the blog.

Did you?

One of the goals for the month was to make the blog a place we could all live in. But that didn't happen, even though the ingredients are all there. Ultimately we were all too lazy to make that a reality.

Some of us have more important things to be doing.

Okay, let's move into the review for the month, and we'll start with you. You had two days, with an average score of 2.5/10.

That is a lie! A ridiculous lie. I had a perfectly good day, and because the programmer has a stick up his butt I got a zero.

You didn't write anything down.

So what?

So you got a zero.

The programmer should never have been put in charge. He doesn't understand us.

Hello, musician. I understand what you're saying, and I do think the 5 you got for your only day was unduly harsh.

I was following the rules.

So we'll change the rules. That's what these meetings are here for. But let's save that for later. Programmer, you had two days with an average score of 3.5. The explorer had two days with an average score of 4. The gamer had two days with an average score of 6, the addict had one day worth 7, the worker had two days of 6 each, and I had three days with an average of 4, which included both the only day above 8/10 and one of many zeros for the month. Overall the average score is 4.25/10, the lowest of any month since the beginning of the performance reviews. Hence my introduction: June was a disaster.

This reflects on the programmer more than on me.

It reflects on all of us, as a group. If you mess up your day, you're hurting every single one of us because we won't think you're there to be counted on when we need you. On page 4 I'm going to propose a plan for July to scale back in the short-term, but for right now we are going to look at what went wrong, and how to prevent it in the future. Programmer, I'm going to need you to pay close attention to what everyone says here, so that you can come up with the rules we need.

You're giving him more control over us?

We are a group. The programmer won't do anything that goes against our natures, I promise you.

Person, you say you were fine and the programmer scored you wrong. But a close examination of your days shows that you've been misplayed. On your first day, you sat by yourself and practiced your "bored" pose, and then you wondered why it was you hadn't formed a connection with anyone. If you're going to be antisocial, what's the point of having you? The rest of us are antisocial, we don't need you to step in to be antisocial for us.

I'm not antisocial.

Debatable. Regardless, for your character it's unacceptable. What the hell were you doing playing Lode Runner while your grandparents were downstairs?!


In your second day, you ignored all of us by not holding yourself accountable to our standards. And then you act indignant when you're scored accordingly?

It wasn't important to write anything down. I was doing things with people.

And that's your strength, or at least, it's supposed to be. You need to show us that you're good at dealing with people, or else we'll let you take control less and less. Tell me, do you want interactions with other people to be handled by me, or by the addict?

Okay, I see your point.

If you want to get anywhere at all, you need to be a lot less self-absorbed.

I have a suggestion.

Excellent. Let's hear it.

Well, first of all I think we need to write the interactive post I planned. But we can also add a line into the person's rules saying he always needs to put real and fictional people ahead of himself.

I don't know how effective that'll be, given that that's supposed to be obvious anyway.

Obviously it's not so obvious, or he'd be acting like that. I can't give you anything more specific, because the scoring rules already reward proper socializing. I don't know why this line is needed, but we can add it in anyway.

Do you have any objections, person?



No.

Good.




..It's Asimov's laws of robotics. You expect me to follow the laws of robotics.

Sure.

Is this a joke?

A more methodical approach to life won't hurt you. You've been coasting, and that's no use to anyone. This is better.

How am I supposed to function as a member of society when I'm following rules like a robot?

By introducing new rules whenever they're needed. Try these out for a few months, and we'll see how it goes.

It's demeaning.

Let me make your position perfectly clear. On June 22nd I went to see Carousel, with all the people from Ruddigore starring in it. And while I was there I was able to recall the actor character I'd built up there, with whom conversation with absolutely everyone was easy and enjoyable without losing a fundamental honesty even in the face of social etiquette. This is the character you are competing with. He has made friends. You have not.

I have plenty of friends.

Not since The Rules. That's what I'm looking at.

Can we please move on? We are ridiculously late. Again.

From now on, the addict should always have the last day of the month to manage the self-meeting. It should be unscored and should not take into account the once-in-three-days limitation on pulling out the addict.

Okay. Write it up.

I don't know, you want to leave it unscored?

If it's scored for the previous month, it changes the numbers so we can't discuss them at the meeting. If it's scored for the following month, it means that every single month is going to be starting the same way, and I know you're not the only one here who'd have a problem with tha. So no score. Thankfully the addict is entirely trustworthy. Even if he's not scoring, if he's writing it down and staying in character we don't need to worry about him.

I'm not sure about this, but we need to move on so I'll let it stand for now.
Programmer. Let's continue with you, because you've got the opposite problem to the person. You need to be more self-centered.

Why?

Because dealing with us is not your forté. I appreciate that you stepped in when I left, and under the circumstances I think you did a fine job. But that's not who you are. In your days, you were so worried about what everyone else might want that you entirely ignored your own self-fulfillment. Put frankly, the "challenges" you've given yourself this month were not challenges. They were busywork of the sort you should have left for the worker, and storytelling of the sort you should have left to me. If you are specifically requested to get something done, and it seems like they actually need you for it, by all means help out. But otherwise you're better off working on your own projects. Do you understand?

Yes.

Good. I don't think we need to add a rule for you.

I'm going to make an edit anyway.

Gamer. Gamer? I guess he's not coming. Well, his rules are fine but he didn't follow them. They explicitly say no reading, which he was guilty of in both cases. These are very common-sense rules, but he doesn't understand them because he's not nearly as rushed as he should be. I don't know what else I can say about that except that if he doesn't stick to the script he'll find himself being called upon less and less.

This page is entitled "New rules". If you're not going to put in new rules, don't waste our time. I would like to remind you that it is July 3rd already. What the heck?

I had D&D.

What a shocker.

I was playing.

Worker, your point is taken. These comments should have been on the first page, so I'll just hurry up and then get on to my last proposed rule. The worker needs to take mid-day naps when he's tired, the explorer needs to be more lively and enthusiastic, and the musican should stand up for his deserved time more. If we still see a problem we may need to write rules to encourage these attitudes, but for now I trust you all to make the necessary changes to your lifestyles.

How do I differentiate between a day where I'll be able to keep going without rest, and a day where I need a nap?

Good question. Programmer?

You don't know when you're tired?!

If your usual sleep schedule was disrupted, you can automatically assume you're going to need a nap and plan accordingly. Otherwise, you can rely on the thinker's moments of reflection: if you see that you've been drifting off of the plan, don't even bother to write up a revision. Just go to sleep, wake up an hour later and figure out what you're doing then. You are not expected to keep going if you're falling asleep.

I would actually emphasize that you're not just not expected to keep going, you're actively discouraged from continuing if you're tired.

That doesn't make sense. If he's being paid for his work, he shouldn't take a nap in the middle. Consistency in rules is important.

Fine, maybe you can take a nap unless there's money involved.

I'd rather say that naps are always okay at home, but out of the house you need to keep yourself awake.

If you're tired, sleep! This isn't rocket science!

Worker, are you going to be okay?

Yes.

Good. The last rule I'd like to propose is that the thinker, gamer and explorer are all off-limits when there's any sense of urgency in the month.

I don't like this rule.

It applies to me as well as you. I just see that we don't thrive under pressure.

What if I have a deadline for Angles & Circles? I can only get the addict to work for me once every three days!

The worker can do the work.

It's not a good idea to keep rushing all the time. You need a break now and then.

So we can give you the day!

Music can be pretty intense.

No moreso than the gamer.

But more than me.

Sorry, you're outvoted. It's a bad rule.

Can you reword it, then?

I have no idea what you're trying to accomplish with it, so I can't accept that challenge.

Fine. I just thought I'd put it out there.

Overview
New rules
Grievances
Plans

I'll give the post over to the rest of you now. Any problems during the month, other than what we've gone over?

Yeah, the programmer had no right to ignore our personalities when scoring.

What, you should be given a free pass whenever you want it?

He's just doing his job. I don't see what this argument is about.

Enough of this! Your personalities are tied to the rules. If you're not happy with the rules, now's the time to suggest changes. If you don't want to change them, you'll follow the rules as they stand.

I see absolutely no reason why I should need to exercise.

You're sitting down all day, playing piano. You need to exercise or the next personality gets an atrophied body to work with. Any other stupid questions?



You'll deal with the rules, all of you.


Our life is getting stale. Where's the excitement and spontaneity?

Excitement and spontaneity don't get you anywhere.

But they do inspire and reinvigorate.

If you want to do things that are different, no one's stopping you.

No, it's a good point, and I think we should make a rule about it. The whole point of this game is to avoid falling into repressive patterns of behavior. If we're falling into a routine, the whole system is pointless. Explorer, do you have any ideas?

Me?

Sure, you're the one who raised the issue.

I don't know. But I'm thinking that the general behavior section of The Rules is going to get awfully crowded soon.

We can hide the ones which aren't active. They're not huge edits, anyway.

Okay, do that. No, but wait. If you click on the links before this, they'll reappear. So what good is that doing? Better we should put all the rules for one section at once.

But we've already put all of them.

Fine, for now let's just put the rule without a link. I'll have to figure out how to clean it up later. Maybe I can use the sidebar. I don't know if there's enough room there under the SVGs.

But we haven't decided anything yet!

How about this: every week, something unexpected... no, that's too hard to define.

I've got an idea. This is the explorer's idea. So every time the explorer gets a day, he schedules strange days for the rest of us.

I could do that.

Excellent, it's settled.

Anything else?

Yes. How much longer is this break in the game going to be, exactly?

Let's wait and see if anyone else has anything to say.

I think everyone needs to be a lot better. I'm getting embarrassed by the lack of things to talk about.

Yes, well, we're not going to be writing any rules about that. That's broader strategy.

Whatever it is, just do it. Be better.

Yes. We can all take that advice. Thank you.



Okay! If there's nothing else, we'll move on.

We've spent months building up these characters, getting comfortable with the rules, etc. But we've gotten complacent, and even though we're each of us very far from where we're supposed to be we use the fact that it'll be someone else tomorrow to not stick to the script and not care. So let's forget everything we've learned, and start back from square one. We'll cut back on the number of characters this month, and no one goes anywhere until they show that they can repeat their performance consistently. For this month, we're going to cancel the rule that you can't keep going if you get under 6/10. If you absolutely can't proceed without one of the other characters' input, ask for them and you'll get one day off. But then it's back to you, and you'll have to get it right. Does everyone understand what we're going to be doing?

Yes.

I don't like the idea of everyone being on their own. I can handle that, but sometimes other personalities need me. And you're saying that I can't go to help them unless they specifically ask for me.

That is what I'm saying.

Honestly, that scares me.

Good. That shows that you need this. Learn to exist on your own, without expecting anyone else to take over. Once it feels like you could keep being yourself forever, that's when the next personality steps in.

Neat.

We're going to start with the addict and the worker.

The addict doesn't need the strengthening, does he?

No, but I'd like him to spend a day playing Zelda. We haven't been active enough in the community playthrough, and there's an opportunity there that's lessening each day we wait. As soon as he finishes with Zelda, you get your chance to show us what you can do. And then you'll keep going until we see that you're stable.

That sounds like fun.

Then I'll join, because I'm behind on the blogging. So far my only successes have been in telling the rest of you what to do.

I'd object if it weren't true.

I'm looking forward to using my new ruleset to figure out who I am and what I can do when I'm on my own. After me, the explorer.

Yay!

I'm hoping you'll work on Angles & Circles, but of course you're free to do whatever you want. About the scheduling rule: you don't need to follow it this month.

But I want to.

Well, yes, but we can't keep up with all your requests because you might have a lot of days.

Don't worry about that. I'll get it right quickly.

We'll see how it goes. After the explorer, if there's still time in the month we'll do the gamer and then the programmer and finally the musican.

There's no way we can do all this in one month.

This will likely continue into August and even September. We need for every single character to have a chance to shine.

What about me? You didn't mention me.

You can't really be scheduled, since you rely on other people. If an opportunity should arise, you'll have the day. By the way, everyone - if days need to be put in which don't fit the plan, it's recommended that you use the addict or the worker.

So that's why the worker is going first.

Yes. But also, there are some work days coming up. That could be the addict, but I think it's healthier if it's the worker.

We'll see how much we can get done this month, and then we'll continue where we left off the next month. So the next self-meeting will be shorter than usual.

Thank God.

Or it could be the same length, if something's going horribly wrong. But I think we'll be fine.

Past this prolonged exercise, the focus of the group will be 80% on the musicians' more marketable projects, Angles and Circles and Gamer Mom. Beyond those three things we'll just be worrying about maintaining sanity and energy.

And chaos!

That's what I meant by "energy".

There's going to be a new D&D game starting while the other one is on break, and we'll probably be meeting more often.

We'll figure out how to deal with that when we come to it.

And what about Dungeon Master?

Good question. We can have some addict and worker days this month, and I'll work on it myself. I guess we can add that in to the category of things we'll be focusing on. I think four main subjects of focus is plenty.

Will that keep everyone involved? The musician, the explorer with Angles and Circles, I have Gamer Mom, the thinker with... hm, what will you be doing?

This doesn't have to work like that. We're not always going to be involved equally in a month. Sometimes one personality is needed more, and sometimes he's needed less. For instance, the person won't have much to do while we're heavily working on the creative things, but once we're done or farther into it, there may be a lot more socializing as a result of the work or of the resulting self-confidence. Everyone will have their day, and the exercise now is to make sure that when that happens we know exactly how to deal with it, almost like an instinct.

I'd like more games.

Now you show up? Last page would have been the time for comments like that. We're ending the meeting now.

Darn.

I think we're done here. See you all next month.


four comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger Kyler said:

What software are you working with for your piano piece?

It is a really nice piece. It feels a lot like your other pieces but with more nuance and depth.

 Mory said:

I use QTractor. Hopefully I'll be able to get more "nuance and depth" into all my recordings, now that I'm one step closer to knowing how to use it properly. The piano soundfont is something I downloaded off BitTorrent; I don't remember what it is exactly.

Anonymous Anonymous said:

Interesting Fear Itself article, could you post your full reading order? I'm about to take the plunge and like your take.

 Mory said:

Wow, I didn't notice your comment until now. Not good; I'm putting the verification back on. The trouble is, I've been getting so much anonymous spam every day that I've been ignoring anonymous comments. I imagine you'll have already read Fear Itself by now, and you probably won't even see this response, but here's my reading order anyway. I made edits all over the place, so just reading the issues in this order isn't necessarily going to make any sense. But it's not as heavily edited as, say, my Avengers Vs. X-Men edit, so here you go:

Part 1: A Stone's Throw From Chaos
1. The Avengers 13
2. Fear Itself Prologue: The Book of the Skull (just an abbreviated version of the flashback, ending with edited narration; nothing set in the present)
3. Fear Itself 1
4. The first part of the Speedball story in Fear Itself: Home Front, starting with a two-page flashback to Civil War that I put together.
5. Fear Itself 2
6. Iron Man 504
7. Youth In Revolt 1

Part 2: First Responders
1. New Avengers 15
2. Alpha Flight 1
3. Thunderbolts 160
4. Thunderbolts 161
5. Thunderbolts 162
6. Fear Itself 3
7. Avengers 15 (I made significant edits, but it'll sort of work in its original format. I recommend ignoring the talking heads under the big establishing shot of Red She-Hulk running away from Hulk.)
8. Avengers Academy 15
9. Iron Man 505

Part 3: The Fear
1. Fear Itself: Spider-Man 1
2. The second part of the Speedball story in Home Front.
3. Avengers Academy 16
4. The first five pages of Black Panther: The Man Without Fear 521 (I titled this "The Hate-Monger", and added a "To Be Continued" at the end.)
5. Speedball from Home Front 3.
6-11. Youth In Revolt 2-6. (I put page 18 of issue 1 -the page that starts with "Good god! It's one of them!"- with edited coloring and a Fear Itself-themed header saying "Previously:" at the beginning of issue 2, because so much has happened then that the reader may have forgotten what's going on. Just look back at the last three pages of the first issue before moving on.) This goes all the way past the end of Fear Itself, but this is intentional. It spoils very little, and gives a small sense of resolution for this part of the story.

Part 4: Loki's Quest
1. The Mighty Thor #7. DO NOT LOOK AT THE RECAP PAGE, it spoils the end of Fear Itself. I removed it in my copy.
2-5. Journey Into Mystery 622-625

Part 5
1. The Avengers 14, edited to take out all the talking heads. You can get a similar effect by just ignoring them and looking at the pretty pictures. :D
2. Fear Itself: Spider-Man 2, without the last page.
3. Black Panther: Man Without Fear 521, starting from page 6.
4-5. Black Panther 522-523
6. Speedball from Home Front 4
7-10 - Uncanny X-Men 540-543
11. Speedball from... okay, this one is tricky. I mixed together the last three issues of Home Front. If you're reading from the original issues, just read through until you get to a part that's all optimistic and about people getting together to help each other out, then immediately stop. It's not how I did it (I had a smooth transition to the last page of Home Front 7's Speedball story, through a little bit of Home Front 6.), but it's close enough and it's the only way to avoid spoilers from the last issue.
12-14. Avengers Academy 17-19
15. New Avengers 16
16. Fear Itself: Spider-Man 3
17. The Avengers 17

Part 6: Humans and Gods
1. Fear Itself 4 (I think there was a page here showing Attuma that I took out to preserve continuity, but since I don't have the original issue anymore I can't say.)
2. Fear Itself 5
3. Iron Man 506
4. Journey Into Mystery 626
5. Iron Man 507
6. Journey Into Mystery 627
7. Iron Man 508
8. Fear Itself 6
9. Iron Man 509
10. Journey Into Mystery 628
11. Fear Itself 7, but only up to page 30 (the page that ends with Odin saying "No.")
12. Journey Into Mystery 629
13. Fear Itself 7 pages 31-38, which I call "The Days After". The "epilogues" which are actually just teasers for other series, I left out. The story ends when it says "End".

Part 7: Comic Book Heroes
1. Journey Into Mystery 630
2. Avengers Academy 20
3. Fear Itself 7.1
4. Fear Itself 7.3
5. Journey Into Mystery 631


It's amazing how proud I was of this collection at the time, when looking back at it now it seems so simple. I made some significant edits, but only a few. With Avengers vs. X-Men, it's a whole different reading experience in my version, complete with ten pages recapping the state of the Marvel Universe at the beginning and completely removing the original miniseries' ending. (It was redundant, with the other things I included.) It's not just an order, but an actual linear edit where I disassembled every issue and reassembled the whole thing into something structured more like a novel. I don't think Fear Itself could have been edited that way, though - it's not nearly as tight a plot.

I should probably put my edit of Avengers vs. X-Men up on BitTorrent.

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2011, June 17th, 4:28 and 30 seconds

My latest piano composition

My earlier post showed how this piece developed. I finished it earlier this week, and by "finished" I don't mean that every note is in place, but just that I can start playing it and get to an ending. This is usually where I stop the composition process.

You'll note that this sounds a lot better than all my earlier MIDI recordings (not that there isn't a long way to go still). I've learned that I was going about the recording process backwards. I was connecting the MIDI data to the synthesizer program to make it sound like whatever instrument, then feeding that into the recording program. At the end of the day I'd an audio file that I couldn't do much with. The proper way to do this (which I used here) is to connect the MIDI data to the recording program to save the performance itself rather than the audio. Then the recording program's output is connected to the synthesizer program, to make it sound how I want. What this means in practice is that after recording, I can edit the performance on a note-by-note level without messing up the sound of it. I can change the lengths of notes, take out notes that weren't meant to be there, change the dynamics... that last part is the biggest deal for me, since I can never get the dynamics right with my keyboard. What I did here was play it consistently loud the whole way through, then go back through note-by-note and add the right dynamics. It took a long time, and I could spend a whole week on this recording just tweaking the volumes and lengths of each note. The rhythm is still crap. I haven't figured out how to use the metronome yet (Not sure if I could keep up if I did, though.), and in any case the tempo is supposed to keep changing here so I don't know how much use it'd be. I should be able to change the timing after the fact -the trouble is, I don't know how to move the pedal presses along with the notes. So when I tried shifting the notes to compensate for my bad rhythm, the pedal was being pressed in all the wrong places. So I've left the rhythm how it was (blecch).

About the composition itself, I'm of two minds. After all my experimentations and that little music-box improvisation, a lot of ideas were on the table and I don't feel like I've left any there. I think that was probably a mistake. The word that was floating through my head as I compiled the thing was "definitive". I wanted to make this the only version of the two themes that I'd ever need, and I wanted for all my fond memories of playing with the theme to fit in directly instead of just being forgotten or alluded to. I did accomplish that, and by the end of it I have said everything I want to say on the subject. But I only managed this by radically switching styles in the middle World of Goo-style. That game at least had the structural sense to integrate the two halves together in the end, but the jazzy style I'm switching to is totally abandoned in the end. It's one piece which is wrapped up, then I jump into a second piece which sounds completely different, and then I awkwardly transition back into the first. That's the structure of my first composition ever. How is it that after eleven years, I'm still using the same ridiculous format?

I may need to rewrite the ending some day.


This is where I'll put any posts related to the Marvel Comics crossover "Fear Itself".

Click a link on the left to read a post.

A second look at Avengers #15, which is essential more for Spider-Woman than for Fear Itself

This post contains spoilers for Avengers #13-15, Secret Invasion, and some older Bendis stories.

I recently had an interesting argument with Colin Smith of the blog "Too Busy Thinking About My Comics". I carried it on too long, to the point where he threatened to ban me if I didn't retract and delete what I'd said (I honestly had no idea that the term "mud-slinging" was offensive to some people.), but it started with a legitimate clash of ideas. Smith's philosophy holds that each and every issue of a comic should strive to be the best entertainment it can be. In commenting on his posts, I've crystallized my position that much of modern pop culture relies on faith in delayed resolution, and that the entertainment landscape is better for it. This line of argument began during his scathing review of The Mighty Thor #1 by Fear Itself's Matt Fraction, where he condemned the issue (fairly) for failing to provide any entertainment, while I argued that the story's continuation might justify the long set-up. (Since then, it has.)

The argument this time around was centered around The Avengers #12.1, which spends a considerable amount of time showing Jessica Drew (Spider-Woman) tied up while naked. In isolation, I understand how someone could take issue with that. It certainly seems like a sexist statement, if you don't know that in New Avengers Annual #3 a few years back Bendis had a whole issue where Clint Barton (Hawkeye) was tied up and naked, until his female colleagues in the Avengers came and rescued him. Having read more Bendis comics than Smith, I know that stripping, tying up and torturing enemies is just the sort of thing that Bendis villains do, regardless of their victims' gender. That certainly is disturbing, and I confess I'd never noticed before how often he wrote that sort of thing, but I don't see how the label of "sexism" can be applied to perversion that doesn't take gender into account at all. The bigger problem with Avengers #12.1 when read as a standalone story is that it had no resolution. Jessica Drew is tied up, the Avengers come to rescue her, a plot is set into motion, and... that's the issue. It's not a particularly good read, if you don't read any more after it. But if you choose to stick around, the very next issue is Avengers #13 which puts a spotlight on Spider-Woman's frame of mind, and in Avengers #15 there's some emotional pay-off.

One issue of a Bendis comic, taken on its own, is nearly meaningless. There will be fun dialogue, some cleverly gimmicky storytelling, and really good art (since Marvel gives him their best pencillers). But you don't start to really appreciate what he's doing until you take a step back and look at the big picture. This is a writer who has complete job safety for as long as the comic book market still exists (which is to say, another year or two), and who has patience to match. He's been writing some of these characters for seven years, and every line of dialogue he gives them is shaped by those earlier stories.

I didn't give Avengers #12.1 any thought when it came out four months ago. The "point one" issues are meant to get new readers up to speed. It did that, and not in the most engaging of ways. So I didn't even intend to include it in my collection, let alone refer to it in blog posts. But when Colin Smith put a spotlight on the way Spider-Woman was humiliated there, I had to take a step back and ask what Bendis's bigger picture was. And just like when I reached the last issues of Dark Avengers and suddenly understood the genius of Bendis's long-running Sentry story, it was only when I took that step back that I noticed just how consistently miserable Spider-Woman has been for the entire time Bendis has been writing her. It's a story which I've never paid much attention to until now. And when I noticed that, suddenly I thought back to my post about Avengers #15 and realized I'd missed the point of it.
Next page
I've never read Jessica Drew's old stories. The first I saw of her is when she joined Bendis's Avengers team. He wrote her as a spy who'd gotten in over her head and needed the help of her friends in the Avengers to cope with being a triple-agent. But then it turned out (in Secret Invasion, also by Bendis) that that wasn't really Spider-Woman, but an alien shape-shifter queen that was fooling everyone. The truth came out, the whole world saw "Spider-Woman" leading an invasion force, the Skrull queen was shot, and then the real Spider-Woman was found. She didn't know anything that had happened since the beginning of Bendis's Avengers run, but suddenly she was back in the world and everyone thought of a supervillain when they looked at her. (I don't understand why she didn't change her look. If I were her right then, I'd definitely change costumes and possibly hair color.) Wolverine invited her to join the Avengers, for real this time, and the initial reaction of her new teammates when they saw her was irrational anger. That sort of reaction messed with Drew's head. Here's her internal monologue two issues later in New Avengers (vol. 1) #50:
"I don't know how this turned into this, but it's my fault. And everyone hates me. One day as an Avenger and I fail completely. Why am I even here? These people hate me. They look at me and they see Skrull and loser and Skrull loser ... I hate that this is the sum of all the parts of my life. Well, if this is how I gotta go, I'm taking as many of them with me as I can!"
Ouch, that's bad narration. So over-written. Now I remember why it was that I edited that page out of my copy of the issue, and why I didn't collect Bendis's seven-issue Spider-Woman: Agent of S.W.O.R.D. Skrull-hunting angst-fest. That series was more of the same, only more so. And every single time she's on panel since she got back three years ago, there's some variation on "I'm really not good enough, I don't understand why you keep treating me like your friend.". She's been angry and reckless, running off on a bunch of suicide missions that the Avengers need to bail her out from.

I like that after Siege, Bendis put her not on the Secret Avengers team where her spy skills would come in handy, or even the gritty street-level New Avengers team, but on the main Avengers team alongside Captain America, Thor and Iron Man. They've got a god, a billionaire, a historic soldier, a Hulk, an alien who builds time machines between panels... These are the guys who save the world from threats of preposterous scale. So far in this volume of the series they've prevented their entire timeline from collapsing and stopped someone from gaining absolute control over all the abstract forces of the universe. And Spider-Woman's one contribution to the story was choosing to go on a dangerous mission on her own, getting kidnapped and stripped naked and tied up and needing to be rescued by the others. Over and over she's been saying that she's not cut out to be an Avenger. And Ms. Marvel, who's always strong and noble and an all-around role model in this comic, keeps trying to reassure her that they're all equals and friends. But Spider-Woman doesn't actually fit into this group at all.

In personality, Bendis has been writing Jessica Drew like Adam Warren's parody character Empowered, whose specialties are getting tied up and losing her powers. Bendis should probably be aiming for more subtlety than that. I expect Spider-Woman will have an Empowered-ish long-term arc of slowly gaining self-esteem, but first there's this romance with Hawkeye. And that is an interesting pairing.
Clint Barton died in Bendis' first Avengers story, Avengers Disassembled. It was a silly death. To be honest, I don't like Avengers Disassembled at all. It's all shock value, without a story attached to it. The five-issue arc was titled "Chaos", and it is that. In my collection I edited the whole five-issue arc down to a 56-page prologue for House of M, because chaos isn't entertaining on its own but it can make for a good opening to an action movie. I'm really proud of having come up with an edit that makes the material readable (which it wasn't), by cutting it down to the bare minimum of random chaos, and letting the focus of it be the character of Wanda Maximoff. (I think that was the first time I'd done such a significant edit.) Anyway, the idea there was that Wanda Maximoff went crazy and started reshaping reality in ways that killed her friends. Hawkeye was one of the casualties, and the token attempt to make it seem like a heroic sacrifice wasn't successful. It just felt arbitrary and cruel.

In House of M, Wanda brought Hawkeye back to life, for no more reason than she had for killing him, and his story continued in New Avengers #26. That issue was Bendis and Alex Maleev, same as Spider-Woman: Agent of S.W.O.R.D., but the tone was different. Jessica's return to the Marvel universe was overloaded with self-hating narration. Clint's return was... quiet. Much of the issue was silent, and when people talked they didn't say much. Hawkeye was too lost and confused to have any coherent narration. He gave up the brightly-colored costume, searched for Wanda (for "closure", as he put it), found her having no memories or powers, had very confused sex with her, and left. That was the entire issue. So basically, Clint had gone through such random nonsense that he couldn't make heads or tails of his life anymore. In a superhero universe there must be some clinical term for the psychological condition where you're emotionally unstable on account of living in a freaking superhero universe. That's what Hawkeye's been going through, and he's "dealt" with it by sleeping with everything that moves, fighting a lot and being the first to volunteer for each opportunity to torture bad guys for information. At least, that's my interpretation of his motivations, from how Bendis has been writing him. But maybe he's just overcompensating for not having any superpowers.

For whatever reason, he is angry and impatient - just like Spider-Woman. I'm expecting this relationship to be really messy. It got off to a good start in Avengers #13, where Spider-Woman used her pheremone powers on Hawkeye because she couldn't imagine that anyone could like her without being manipulated into it. These characters are seriously messed up. Both of them were raised by super-villains, and I think Bendis is trying to bring out that latent craziness that other writers might try to downplay.

The first page of The Avengers #15 (yes, I'm actually going to talk about this issue) is priceless. Spider-Woman mopes about how worthless she thinks she is for nine panels, and then the angst is deflated with two panels of Hawkeye's comments:
"I don't know what it is about her... she's so angry all the time, but it's so damn cute. Don't tell her I said that, it'll just make her angry.
Also adorable was the moment where Hawkeye, upon being saved by Ms. Marvel, playfully says "I love you.", and Jessica looks like she's trying to escape off the side of the page. That Bachalo is a clever one.
I've edited a few pages out of my copy of this issue. First off, there's a page of interviewing where everyone chats about The Protector, which is so out of place it's bizarre. Noh-Varr is not a major part of this story, and no one has anything interesting to say about him on that page. I notice the issue is 23 pages long, one more than the usual. What I suspect is, that page there was a last minute addition when it occurred to the editor that any new readers joining for the Fear Itself crossover would have no idea who this guy in a ridiculous costume who saves Spider-Woman is. The other part I've taken out is the establishing shot of the Hulk's rampage. It's a lovely image, but underneath it is tedious exposition reiterating the Fear Itself status quo for the benefit of newcomers. The issue doesn't need or benefit from that when in the context of a comprehensive Fear Itself collection. But now that I'm looking back at that page, I'm thinking, it is a very exciting picture. I'll have to play around with the pages to see if there's some non-awkward way to cut out the talking heads but keep the establishing shot. Otherwise, there's another establishing shot right after it so it's not needed.

The talking heads didn't work for me in those two cases, and it does bother me how neatly all this documentary footage fits together, but there is a fun idea behind it that comes across in this issue. During Civil War, Secret Invasion and Siege, Bendis's Avengers tie-ins were fairly disconnected from the action of the crossovers. The rest of the crossover might have been a spectacle, but Bendis carved out a little quiet corner where he could push his characters forward without interfering with the plot. Here he's trying to make his little story more connected to the whole. His characters are right at the front lines of the battle - what's that like for them? The trouble with characterization during a battle is that it tends to get drowned out by the noise. There's all this intense emotion the characters are going through, moment by moment, but after so many punches and explosions we're not exactly in the right frame of mind to appreciate it. That's what the documentary style is for. We jump away from the battle for just long enough to understand what was going on in the battle. If you just see Spider-Woman save a bunch of kids, it's another beat in the battle with no significance to the plot. But if you stop and reflect, you see that maybe that's kind of a big deal for her. Finally, she's not totally useless in a fight. In her long-term arc, that's an important moment.

I don't think the documentary style has completely worked so far except for Avengers #13. I have that as the first chapter of Fear Itself because I like the thoughtful tone it sets for the rest of the crossover. Issue 13 worked because there was only a hint of the plot. But the plot itself, once we get into it, isn't at all engaging. It's a bunch of monsters on a rampage. Wow, that's creative. #14 tried to make it seem epic by taking the battle seriously, and Romita knocked that out of the park. But it was totally undermined by some attempted character-building which fell flat. (I wish I had access to the unlettered art, so that I could include that fight without any dialogue at all.) #15 has the opposite problem, where the character stuff is fun but the battle feels so generic that you could swap the Hulk with any other enemy in any context and it wouldn't change the issue much. (I have a similar gripe with the New Avengers issues.) #16 was awful, existing only because Bendis felt like it should exist (showing Steve Rogers' emotional state) but without any good idea of what he should be writing in it. Coren and I wrote a script like that recently; we threw it out and started over from a different direction and now it's pretty cool. That's what Bendis needed to do there, but he has way too many commitments per month to be willing to do that.

 2011, August 31st


2011, June 2nd, 20:32 and 59 seconds

Self-meeting for May 2011

Okay, let's call this meeting to order. The first order of business

Hey, who elected you?

Well, I can't wait around for the rest of you to get your act together. We're just wasting time.

Cool it. We're not gonna get anywhere with an attitude like that.


This is silly. Let's get started already.

You're not in charge here.

Actually, the question of who runs the meeting is of vital importance. The whole nature of the discussion will be dictated by the faux-social hierarchies we decide here, and this will apply in the future

Does anyone object to the person running the meeting?

Why the person?

Because he'll be unbiased. I doubt he cares one way or the other about anything that happened this month.

The person would be interesting.

You're wrong about the person's interest. The people most creative will give the person more topics to socialize about with other people.

That'll be good for me.

Actually, that could make for a fitting perspective, given the intentions for this past month.

Great. Any objections? No?

I want to make it clear, though, that this agreement only extends to this particular meeting. We will need to speak about more permanent faux-social hierarchies soon.

Fine. Whatever. I'd just like to start this as soon as humanly possible, because it's 1:43 AM on June 2nd and ideally this should already have been written by the end of May 31st. I don't want to drag this on any longer.

Incidentally, no one's officially been in control since the beginning of the month. This is a problem.

I'm not certain what we can do about that.

Honestly, this is utter chaos! Is the person here?

I'm here. Hi.

Would you mind starting this meeting already? It's obvious no one's going to let me do it, and I can't take one more minute of this time-wasting.

Sure. Is everyone here?

I'm here.

The programmer.

I think our names ought to be capitalized. That should be the first thing on the agenda.

The thinker's here, and I heard the musician and the gamer earlier. What about the explorer?

What?

Okay. The addict?



Has anyone seen the addict?

He's sleeping.

That's no good. This meeting can't start until we have all eight of us. If even one of us isn't present, this isn't a fair system.

For God's sake.

Let's just start. If the addict needs to say something, he should be here.

And what if we have something to say to him? What if we're not happy with his performance?

We're going to start. Please be quiet for a moment.

Excuse me, but we aren't displaying properly here. This should only take a minute to learn to fix.

Fantastic.

We'll wait.

Okay, it's displaying now. But it's not exactly pretty. I may need the explorer's help later to get it set up right.

Yay!

Okay. Thank you. Worker, you can stop glaring now. In fact, stop trying to rush us along. We have absolutely nothing planned until Friday, when Dena will be home and I'm hoping to watch The Voice with her. It's 2:14 now, and it looks like we'd be best off continuing this meeting into tomorrow. The alternative is to keep pushing on until it's way too late, and we'll all be too tired to have a decent conversation. Would you prefer that?

I wonder which of us could stay in character most effectively while tired. That would be useful information.

We should start with a summary of the month's goals.

Okay. Let's see... I'll just copy and paste what I said.

Each day, I'm going to pick a different character. At the end of the month, when I look back at who I've been overall, I want to see a cohesive character who is defined first and foremost by his creativity. The nature of that creativity should be very diverse. I want to get the impression of a person so multifaceted and strange that one never knows what he will do next. This is not my natural state -I am a person prone to easy and repetitive patterns of behavior.- so the performance will likely require the careful and respectful collaboration of all eight of my personalities.

The post should be a fixed width, to give a sense of us all shoved in here together. And there shouldn't be the usual margins.

This isn't the time. You can fix it up tomorrow, before we publish.

Okay. And I haven't made up my mind yet whether there should be spaces between us. I need to play around with it a bit to find out.

It seems to me that there are four components to the plan.

I'm going to make the blockquote bigger.

It seems to me that there are four components to the plan.
  1. The eight of us should in retrospect, together form one cohesive character.
  2. This unified character should have no attributes more prominent than "creativity", which is a complicated word. This may actually be two separate points depending on how we choose to define the term.
  3. The output of that "creativity", whatever that means exactly, needs to be diverse.
  4. Finally, a suggestion that the first three are probably only possible through respect between characters.
Those are the key points we'll need to review.

I don't like how the blockquote just sort of sits there. It definitely needs to be a different color, something that stands out but doesn't look too out of place here. Do you think it could be a shade of pink?

You fascinate me. Tell me, what is it about this post that so engages you while bigger projects like Angles & Circles don't seem so urgent? Is it just the quantity of work?

I don't know. I do love Angles & Circles. So what do you think, could pink work? I'll need to test it out.

Not now you won't.

Thanks for stepping in, I might have had to kill him otherwise.

I'll bet.

What is that supposed to mean?!

Would you please all stop attacking each other?

We can start from the fourth point -respect between characters- by noting that there's not much of it.

Wrong. We are all sitting here, putting our plans on hold for a few hours, all for the sake of a dream of something halfway between multiple personalities and a single definitive self. We're engaging each other's ideas. Accepting each other's existence. This is respect. Now, working like a well-oiled machine, that's what you actually want but that comes with time. It starts with respect, and we've got that in spades.


No, I don't see it. The exact phrase was "respectful collaboration", and the context was the two pieces of music in "The Rules".

I know that.

I'm sure you do. The idea is that we shouldn't just be thinking about ourselves, we should care about each other. I think about everyone, as does the programmer and the worker.

Excuse me. How does you taking forty hours (plus sleeping) on conversations about comics, after you specifically and personally said that that time would be assigned to me, the musician and someone else... how does that count as "thinking of everyone"? That is thinking of you. You stole that time from us.



You're right. I shouldn't have taken so long, especially right after I had the addict doing what I wanted. But what I said was a suggestion. I understood that things could change, and we'd already gone off script from the day that was supposed to be the explorer's.

Yeah, what was that about? I didn't get enough days this month!

It was urgent that I get in there before any more bad days happened. The worker seemed totally lost, so I wrote the "sd" script to give quick guidelines and point people in the right direction.

There, you see? Respect.

You lost a day yourself!

Does it sting that I only got one day this whole month? Yeah, it stings. But I knew that when I had a day, I got a day. I was able to just run with what I was doing and no one said to me "My turn now, get off the stage.". So you want a few extra days? What do I know, maybe you need it. And if I have some prolonged musical inspiration, you guys can wait a while until I'm done. Respect.

I have two things to say. First off, I didn't properly get even a single day this month, because the day that was supposed to be mine kept getting interrupted by you idiots. So respect? Not so obvious that it's here.

Ouch.

Secondly, it's 3:38 AM and I am falling on my face. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

It is 3:23 PM on June 2nd and still we haven't finished this post and gotten back to life. This is absolutely unacceptable.

I agree. The trouble is, the next month hasn't really started yet and the last month is over already. So if someone's running a day by the Rules, where does the score go?

Does it matter? There needs to be a day in progress.

Tell me, what were you doing earlier today?

There is no "today" because we're not keeping time!

You were reading comics, that's what you were doing! I saw you! How you can be entertained by such passive activities, I have no idea.

Well, what am I supposed to be doing? There's no schedule, no plan, no discipline... Where is the person, anyway?

Just a second.


Sorry, what were you asking?

What were you doing just now?

E-mails. There's a big battle going on, with a giant worm about to devour a nearby building.

Dungeons and Dragons.

It's better than comics!

Shut up.

Ah good, we're here. So yesterday we were discussing the concept of respect between characters, and what that entails.

What do you guys think of how the post looks?

Pretty darn good.

Yeah. I left out the borders, so that the person would just sort of be part of the background.

Speaking of which, can I take back my vote for the person to run the meeting? He's driving it into the ground.

I volunteer to take over.

Back to "Yardena"

Just a second, someone wrote another e-mail.

I don't believe this!

Hee hee. She said I'm cool.

Yeah, the person can't be in charge. Terrible idea. Neither can the thinker,

What?

because he's just going to keep talking forever without taking any of us into account. We can't have a meeting where no one is willing to listen to anyone else.

I'm listening.

No, you're not. You deal with flesh-and-blood people, that's all you know. Fictional characters are just imitation-people, as far as you're concerned. The first thing we need is a schedule for the meeting. That's the worker's department. We need to give him points to include. I'd like to specifically focus on creating rules to maintain momentum throughout the month. Anyone else?

First off, I'd like to get back to the May 2011 plan, and assess whether or not we've achieved anything. Secondly, and maybe this should even be first, I set more specific goals for everyone at the start of the month and no one seems to have really followed them. We've also drifted off the general structure of the month, in which the worker and addict were supposed to be a lot more prominent. The addict ended up only being used for the blog

Keep your talking points for when we're all thinking about them. Does anyone else have anything to suggest?

Yeah. Each one of us needs to quickly say what they've done this month, one after the other. I don't know what that's gonna sound like, but that's the point of all of this.

We need to get out of this house. Immediately.


Why?

Yesterday I wanted to play around with accents, and I needed to be careful not to be too loud because someone might hear me.

I'd like to sing.

I can't dance, I can't talk out loud, I can't play music while I'm doing other things...

Sure you can.

A building dictates how it's used. And I have been in this one building for too many years now.

Just now, this lady was saying that I'm cool for doing lots of different things, and I was thinking: "Me? I live in my parents' house, I don't have a job, I spend more time talking to myself

Selves.



I spend more time talking to myself

You mean selves.

It's not a good situation. How is it that Dena's already moved out, and I'm still here?

Whoa, whoa. Ageist!

I don't see how we can get out.

We just need to do it. There's too much thinking around here.

Okay, well, we can talk about this when we're planning for next month. Are there any other points to raise?

Why didn't I get a day?

Because we didn't need you.

And what about what I need?

You have Shabbat. Every single Shabbat, a seventh of our entire life.

Okay, I don't think we can squeeze anything else into this meeting. If there's anything else, it'll have to be next month. Now, worker, I know you want to get out of here. That makes sense. So let's plan out the rest of the post, and make it as few sections as possible while working in everything everyone wants.

Okay. I'd like to be out of here by 7:00, so how much time does that leave for each section...?

In the interest of expediency, I'll do it myself. First we'll each summarize the month. Then we discuss what we've said, and why some characters get more days than others. That's the first section. Then in the second section we'll figure out how that fits in with the general and specific plans we had for May. The third section is about what we can do in the future to fix the problems. And the fourth section plans June, leading straight into the next performance reviews. Does anyone have any problem with this plan?




There should be a menu, with links to each of the sections.

That's a very good idea. It should only take a couple of minutes.

No! No. Let's just get started.

Are you sure? I'd really like to do this.

We've wasted enough time. It can be a linear post, no one cares.

I notice the gamer hasn't said much.

Nothing much to say.

Here's how this works. You say what you've done, and then you give up the mike. I want a real stream of back-and-forth, back-and-forth, rapid-fire cutting. Okay, I'll go first.


Well?

Hey, don't underestimate the value of silence for setting a mood!

This is so cool.




I improvised a bunch of Zelda variations.

I drew in the top of Angles & Circles!

I only got one day, for playing D&D and going out with the family, and the worker watched TV because he thought I wasn't "busy" enough or something. Who gives him the right?

Sh, keep it moving, keep it moving.

I did what everyone else wanted.

All right.

I wrote a chapter and a half of a book, and played a lot of Fluidity, which is

Keep it movin'.

I programmed sd, then I improved sd, then I did the whole new PR system.

Yeah. That was good work.

No commentary yet!

Well, I don't think I can properly review everything that happened this month under these restrictions.

No! You've got this, keep going.

What is the point of this exercise?

There's a beat. You gotta go with the beat, feel the beat... thinker - go.

I co-wrote a very short screenplay, and, um, I invented a good character for Dungeons & Dragons, and I wrote a review of Secret Avengers but the programmer seems to think it's not ready to go up yet.

It's not. But it'll be awesome. Trust me, I'm doing it justice.

It shouldn't be too difficult. It'll mostly be the same code as Living in Hyrule.

The addict. The addict should be here, where's the addict?

Sleeping.

Still?

So what was the point of this whole bit?

Be quiet for just a second. I'm rereading the session. I need to see how it sounds.




Yeah. Awesome. Look at this. You don't know what the next line is gonna be! Is it going to be a gamist, or an awesome musician, is it gonna follow the plan or take a weird left turn... if we're one person, we're one person who can do anything, and knows it, and loves it.

O-kay. Are you just going to go praising yourself here? Because it's kind of painful to watch, and you could have done that without putting us through that tedious silliness. Can we just review the scores and move on?

You're a buzzkill. And I love you anyway.

The average score for the month is 6.75/10, just barely too low to level up. I got five days, with an average of 5/10.

Wow. That's pretty bad.

Yeah. I'll do better.

You've said this before.

Well, this time I mean it.

You've meant it before.

What do you want from me?

Excuse me, but this really is very simple. You did badly because you were too vague. Plan with more specificity, and you'll be fine.

Specificity. I'll do my best. (Specificity.)

I got three days, with an average of 8.33/10.

Very respectable. I had four days, and my average score was 7.75/10.

I didn't get a day.

But that day you supposedly didn't get was a big zero. Passivity builds on itself, this is a problem you're going to have to deal with. It's no one's fault but your own if you can't keep control of a day. I got a 5 and a 9, for an average of exactly 7.

Average score: 7.5/10
(2 days)



And the addict got an average of 8/10, for following up on all our blog projects. That was much appreciated. In fact, I think we should all give as many of our days as we can to the addict. He's reliable, he doesn't get distracted, he's capable of anything.

Out of the question. He'll burn himself out. It also is the equivalent of wandering around in a fog, since the addict is only ever capable of thinking of one thing at a time.

How many simultaneous "things" do you think are needed for most activities?

No. It's out of the question to rely on the addict like that.

I had a problem I couldn't deal with.

What's that?

The bottom of Angles & Circles. I gave it to the worker, and he kept trying it over and over but it didn't go anywhere. And now I'm scared to go back to it.

I'll figure it out.

Really? That's not the sort of thing you usually think about.

I promise you, by the end of my next day, you'll have a way forward.

Thanks.

So that's why you weren't working on it. Interesting. In the future, you should definitely hand things like this over to me.

I'll keep that in mind.

By the way, I would like to point out the obvious and say that the programmer has won the month. 8.33? Kudos.

I just dealt with the problems in front of me.

That's a good attitude. I wish others here had acted like that, just doing what needed to be done instead of acting like children. The thinker made reasonable demands

Oh, are we on that already? New section.

You were talking about the thinker's plan.

Really? I had no idea.

It's just good form to repeat that at the beginning of a page.

I was supposed to keep all of your projects going. I did that, to the best of my ability, but it got a lot harder when your projects all mysteriously dried up. The explorer should have been working on A&C, the programmer should have been programming a rename function, the thinker should have written the second Dungeon Master script by now, and the musician should have worked on something a little bit more substantial than an improvisaton! Oh, and the addict was not meant for the blog. He was meant for everyone! This has just been a complete failure of a month.



I disagree.

What happened this month was a progression from a scattershot approach (which is what my plan was calling for) to a more unified "team" approach that revolved around the blog. Until very recently, there was no place on the blog for you, or for the gamer, or for the programmer, or even the explorer once you get down to it. It was one stream of thought: mine.

I had the performance reviews.

Yes, given a lesser status and maintaining the dualistic "1.0 vs. 2.0" conflict. The unified person, comfortable with all his many aspects, was not welcome in his abstract home until just now. Can you imagine this post right now being written in February? Unthinkable. It's a regression

It is a regression.

It's not a regression, I meant it would have seemed like one. The problem with the old blog wasn't that it sense of self was fractured, it's that those pieces kept arguing with each other and insisting that there's only one "right" way to think. Here we are, having a frank discussion about where we're going, and each of us has different ideas but we're willing to listen to each other. So yeah it's actually the second day of June already, and during May we didn't have the kind of understanding that would have the explorer pass his things to me, and the gamer helping others, and all of us willing to end our days and "pass the mike", as musician put it. (Those names really should be capitalized. Can we take a vote on it?) But we were going for a character who was creative but also cohesive, and that took a month just to put into position. It's the blog that's the glue. The blog needed to be set up just right, so that every single one of us will have a place here. That's what's going to make this version of life different.




Does anyone have anything to add to that?

It was well said.

I still want to know why I only got one day.

You only got one day because you weren't needed. The worker was carrying everyone's projects. So he got five days. I was trying to set a course for all of us, so I got four days. The programmer was helping with the blog. The gamer was contributing to the blog as well. You were giving us nothing. If you want us to stop treating you like you're wasting our time, stop ignoring us.

You're going to need me.

I'm sure that's true. So I hope for all our sakes that you learn to fit in somehow. We're people too. You need to accept that.

So, what, you want me to put aside what real people want from me because it clashes with what you want?

Yes. That is exactly what we want.

I don't care. You're right, we're going to need you to deal with the outside world.

Have we come to any sort of consensus about May?

No.

Let's move on. It bothers me that we haven't been exercising.

Well, that's fixed simply enough. A penalty for not exercising?



Does anyone object to a penalty for not exercising before the day?

Sometimes it's not an option.

That's rare, and I'm talking about a penalty of one point. Hardly a day-killer.

That would do it.

Excellent. I'm also going to apply this to general hygiene and not staying awake past 3:00 AM. Objections?

I can live with that.

I'm editing the Rules post to fit.

There should be a link between here and there, but I want this post to end already and it has been going for soooo long.

You too?

You know, this has taken a lot longer than I thought it would. We've spent enough hours on this; the rest will have to wait for next month. Also, I'm anxious to take the new PR system for a drive already.

No! We still haven't decided where we're going from here!

Fine. Any quick thoughts?

Quick?

You can say whatever you want, but say it in the plans for the month. We're going to end the meeting here.

Thank God.

Please, if you have comments for each other, pass them back and forth during the month. We can't wait for the meeting to do everything. Also, come to the next meeting prepared. We should schedule it for the last day of June, so we don't run into this time-wasting again. And we should all come prepared, so that we have a decent shot at actually getting through everything. And another thing I've decided during all this: attendance is not mandatory. If you've got nothing to add to the conversation, don't wast our time. Okay, let's publish the post now.

The Designer
The Designer is fascinated by human nature and aesthetics, and in particular by how the former may be directed and shaped by the latter. But being a pragmatist, he is careful to back off before getting too attached to a concept. Abstract philosophy is all well and good, but acceptance by others is more important and, ultimately, rewarding.

Friday, May 08, 2015

A friend of Coren's has a nail art blog and business under the name "Fedora Harp", and is looking for a logo. The name is so evocative, I'm instantly inspired.

I get to work in Inkscape and quickly come up with an initial sketch of something that is either a harp or a fedora with wonky perspective, depending on how you look at it. I use Helvetica for the name, and put the harp-fedora on the F's head. I proudly send my work to the blogger to ask if she's interested in paying me to flesh out the sketch to the point where it can be used commercially. She tells me she already has a logo that she made herself, so I was just wasting my time.

Also, she doesn't like the sketch.


2011, May 26th, 00:21 and 29 seconds

start day

mory@Mory:~$ sd explorersd workersd gamersd musiciansd programmersd thinkersd addictsd person Be quick and playful. Whatever you write will set a direction to start in.



Look around you: you're trapped in a small box. Get out!
Keep some paper handy- you'll need it. No boredom allowed today.

mory@Mory:~$
Be extremely specific about the times. If you can't, don't even start. Prioritize wisely, as more energy goes to the earlier activities.



You're not perfect, and today you get better.
No time wasted, no distractions, no lingering.
Go!

mory@Mory:~$
Don't plan on anything too passive or practical.



The plan, in itself, is worthless.
Make this a day to remember.

mory@Mory:~$
Any thoughts?



Forget the past, present and future. You know exactly what to do.

mory@Mory:~$
What's the challenge today?



Analyze, plan, succeed.

mory@Mory:~$
Hey. How's it going?



Step outside of yourself for a moment. No, you're not there yet. Keep going.

mory@Mory:~$
I am obsessed with
Why?



Tomorrow, this won't matter so much. So don't hold back, and don't wait. Today, there is nothing in the world as important as

mory@Mory:~$



Have a nice day.

mory@Mory:~$
Who will I play?

explorer
worker
gamer
musician
programmer
thinker
addict
person

Opening statement:

Opening statement:

Opening statement:

Opening statement:

Opening statement:

Opening statement:

What should I need today?


Opening statement:

Opening statement:


2011, May 16th, 15:36 and 29 seconds

MIDI experiments

Monday, September 19, 2013

The idea

It's a Legend of Zelda fan-fiction concept album, entitled "And Then The Princess Is Kidnapped...". The idea is, using mostly instrumental music, to tell a full story which might have been a Zelda game, but wasn't. At first it's mostly variations and mash-ups of themes from the entire Zelda series, with little bits of original thematic material mixed in. The farther the story goes, the more the original pieces take center stage. But of course, this is just a dream of mine.
  1. Prologue: The Deku Tree's Prophecy
  2. Kakariko City
  3. The Curse
  4. The Chase
  5. Radulf the Librarian
  6. Princess Zelda's Theme
  7. An Afternoon with Zelda
  8. Vanishing
  9. Escaping the Guards
  10. The Pool of Reflections
  11. Secrets of the Underworld
  12. Boss Fight
  13. The Hunt (reprise)
  14. Fairy Kingdom
  15. Spirit Launcher Track
  16. Norog Mines
  17. Ainurad, Norog Overlord
  18. Spirit Convoy
  19. Death Mountain Outpost
  20. Requiem of the Wind Fish
  21. Hero's Theme
  22. Happy Mask Shop
  23. Radulf's Plan
  24. Forest Mini-game
  25. The Infinite Battlefield
  26. Ganon Battle
  27. Finale
  28. Epilogue


Tuvia listened to this idea, and asked me whether I had specific imagery in mind for these pieces. I did. Great, then there can be video clips. He said that acquiring the rights to the music would be too expensive to be worthwhile, but that if it's in some way promoting the game series, maybe we could get Nintendo to pay me to make it. What I heard as he spoke (having some familiarity with the way Nintendo does things) was: "Not a chance in hell, kid. What else you got?"

I've had my MIDI keyboard for a while, but for the most part I've just used it as a way to record audio files that sound vaguely like they came from a piano. I downloaded a collection of other soundfonts, and have been playing around with the various "instruments". The first thing I recorded with them was an improvised duet on my recent work in progress, with the "string ensemble" and "music box" voices. Well, to be more accurate, I started by improvising randomly with the music box voice just to see what I could do with it, but I quickly realized that what I wanted to do with it was play that theme. I tried playing it the way I do on the piano, but I immediately understood that that wouldn't fit. The piano is a very versatile instrument (though I've fallen into a bit of a rut in how I tend to use it), in a way that the music box is not. For that matter, most of the voices I'd downloaded had a particular personality to them. That personality would dictate what I played on them. The music box had a very hollow sound which was charming and fit the theme well, but its simplicity would not suit any complicated harmonic progressions. At least, that's what I felt. So I picked a different key from the one I normally use (to break out of that thinking), and recorded a duet between that and the strings (to add texture).

I didn't want to upload this file, because I don't like it very much, but I've been talking about it so much that I'm going to have to now. I'm not going to embed it, and I'm warning you now that it's four minutes long and is the equivalent of an old man rambling on and on because he's forgotten what it was he wanted to say. But if you want to hear it, here it is. Anyway, what I learned from playing that is that it's not easy making music by yourself. If the other voice were being played by another person, I'd react to him and he'd react to me and together we'd get somewhere. But when I'm on my own, communication only goes one way. So for instance in this file I first recorded the beginning of the music box's melody, and then I came in with the strings afterward (while listening to the first track) and accompanied. I was going for "mysterious", but I think I ended up with just "messy". It keeps running into situations where one instrument thinks it's finished but the other one wants to keep going. Also, I wasn't using the sustain pedal because I wanted to get away from the piano kind of thinking. That was a mistake, and there's a lot of awkwardness here in the strings (as I try to hold down all the notes with a limited number of fingers) that was wholly unnecessary.

I liked the aesthetic of what I'd done, but not the structure (as haphazard as anything I've ever done). So I started playing something which I know like the back of my hand: my variation on "Zelda's Lullaby" from the Legend of Zelda games:

The idea was a good one. When I know exactly where I'm going, it's a lot easier for various instruments to join in. I first played the piano accompaniment, then the strings, then the flute with the melody, and finally a pan flute adding in little bits of emphasis just because I felt like it was missing something still. Here, for comparison, is the original version of the tune from A Link to the Past. You can see that I've taken it in a totally different direction. This is a variation which I've played countless times on the piano, just because playing it makes me happy. I'm really happy with how this arrangement turned out. Part of that was due to letting the piano do all the work holding the music together. I'd have a much harder time trying to come up with an arrangement for Zelda's Lullaby which didn't have the usual piano arpeggios.

I didn't intend to keep going with the Zelda themes, but the next voice I tried on was called "Tremolo Strings", and when I played an octave in the bass with that I immediately thought of how cool the Dark World theme from A Link to the Past would sound with it.

This isn't a theme I've played with much, so my comfort level was much lower. That's why the beginning is almost exactly the same as the original, unlike my usual Zelda variations which are different right from the start. The thing at the end feels like an afterthought. I should have ended the improvisation earlier. Also, I need to hold back a bit with how I use the strings in the future. Some things which would have sounded perfectly fine on a piano sound painfully shrill with synthesized strings.

And since I already had enough Zelda music to make a blog post, I threw together one more improvisation:

Here's the original. You can see that I've diverged from the original more than with the others, to the point that I could imagine some people not hearing the resemblance between this and what it's based on. That's because the original is limited by its context. It existed solely to give a quaintness to The Wind Waker's opening cutscene, and has never (as far as I can recall) been used since. My version, being much simpler in its style, could be expanded upon and reused in other games in many different contexts. (Usually when I play this tune, I imagine it being peaceful and quiet. With a harp, say.) The original tune didn't have a name as far as I know, but for some reason I think of it as being called "Legend". It needs drums here, but I couldn't find a good drum soundfont on short notice. The voice I'm using for the melody is "Blown Bottle", because I tried just about every single soundfont in the collection and that was the only one that had any "chemistry" with the electric guitar.

Overall, I think these are excellent first steps into music with different kinds of sound. At some point I should try using these soundfonts on something that's less of a known quantity.





2011, May 4th, 21:20 and 44 seconds

Hey. I don't have that much to say, but I figure - I've got as much right to write on this blog as anyone. We're working on that new idea for format and everything, and I really need to have a presence here moving forward because otherwise I'll get drowned out by all the others with their big loud ideas. I've only had one post so far, and I was just writing that on behalf of the person. I just want a blog post for myself, and I'll finish it up quickly and get back to work. Don't worry- I made a spot in my schedule for this. I'm not slacking.

So what I'm going to talk about is just what life is like (Where else would I start blogging?), and for that I really need to back up to yesterday so you get some context of how this works. The gamer got yesterday, taking his sweet time playing through the Legend of Zelda series, when a letter from Hadas came saying there was data entry work today. Of course this changed the plans, because the gamer was supposed to keep going for a few more hours and then today was supposed to be the programmer, seeing if we can switch to Fedora from Kubuntu because Kubuntu is way too buggy. (I need to know what all the other personalities are doing, because I'm kind of working for all of them this month.) That involved getting Harel's help, and he was only free today. Thursday was supposed to be the explorer making the game Angles and Circles and Friday/Saturday night would be me continuing each of those three projects. I think the thinker came up with an elegant plan for the first week, taking into account a lot of variables of where I need to be next week, but then you get e-mails out of the blue and all that planning isn't worth much anymore.

Well, if I had data entry it meant I needed to leave the house at 8:45 AM to get a ride to work with Hadas, and that meant switching time zones again. (I normally go to sleep at 4:00 AM and wake up at 12:30 PM.) So I left games night early, and when I said I was leaving someone looked at me with thtis look of utter shock on his face and he said "Really?". I've never done that before - we're always the first one there (It's next door.) and the last one out, because it's not like playing a game that goes 'til after midnight is messing up any schedule of mine. The Rules allow any character to interrupt their performance for "An event involving other people which was scheduled in advance", so even if it's someone who has absolutely no reason to be there -like the musician- I can still go to games night. It's an important thing to go because many weeks that's my only contact with any other people in the middle of the week, and a depressed actor can't play any role well. Anyway, I responded to everyone's surprise at games night by saying "I have to get up early for work tomorrow.", because it was both true and would make people wonder if I was Mory's evil clone or something. Which isn't far off, come to think of it. Not that I'm evil. It's just a joke, don't take it too literally.

After games night, we couldn't go to sleep yet because the gamer gets scored for progress, not good intentions. He'd been going too slow, and then that letter came and a ten-point wasn't looking likely. But still - better five points than three. So instead of going to sleep immediately, there was an hour and 12 minutes of frantic writing to get as much done as possible without being a wreck today. I only got to bed around 1:00 AM or so, but unfortunately that's still early by my standards. I went to sleep, and woke up at 2:30 refreshed enough by that little nap to keep going. I just couldn't get back to sleep after that, and I think I only got four and half hours of sleep or so total. So when my alarm woke me up at 8:20 AM, I was falling on my face and I needed to keep saying to myself over and over: "I'm not good enough, but today is going to be perfect. I'm not good enough, but today is going to be perfect.". And I forced myself to get up, get dressed, eat a bagel with cream cheese, and get out ready to give the day my all.

Hadas was running a bit late, so I sat on the patio in the hot sun (remembering why I rarely leave the house) and noticed a bird cage out on the other neighbor's side of the patio which I'd never noticed before though it must have been there for a long time. A minute or two later we left.

When she turned on the car, Bohemian Rhapsody started playing and that started a whole conversation about entertainment that goes places versus entertainment that's accessible. That lasted all the way to Jerusalem. When we got out of the elevator Hadas remarked that she can't stand Seinfeld because it's "about nothing", and I said that "All sitcoms are about nothing!", and that's exactly when we walked into the office. It took some willpower to prevent myself from following my train of thought to the show Community, and how that's a sitcom that knows it's about nothing, even though it has the obligatory (and half-hearted) excuse for the characters to be together. I reminded myself that I'd seem a lot more professional if I didn't introduce a new topic of pop-culture conversation inside the office, and just followed the imaginary conversation about Community in my head for a minute until it went away.

The work was more monotonous than usual, since it was mostly the same two kinds of pages over and over. I probably could have done it a bit more speedily if I weren't so tired, but I was efficient enough. The office was really busy, so the only room for me to work was on the other side of Hadas's desk. I had a laptop with a USB keyboard (because a number pad is essential), and a big binder with all the pages that I was copying. It probably doesn't bring out my best side to be working in the same room as my boss (especially when that boss speaks English). It's harder to keep censoring my silly comments when there's no separation. So okay, I'm no good at pretending to be professional. But I do the work quickly, and I get paid, and Hadas keeps hiring me, so maybe I'm professional enough. No, I'm not professional enough. I'll have to work on that.

As I was working on those two forms, Hadas designed the database for the next thing I'd be doing. Unfortunately, that part involved text. You do not want to have to decipher text written by a doctor. Such. Terrible. Handwriting. And they couldn't spell, either. Sometimes Hadas told me to keep the typos ("bening" instead of "benign"), and sometimes she told me to ignore them ("protectioin"). In the end I signed every one of the pages I'd entered, passed them off to the girl who'd be verifying my work, marked down my time and left.

I took the bus home, drifting in and out of consciousness along the way. When I got home I marked down my time and collapsed in a chair. I desperately wanted to get to sleep, but the Rules say an opening statement has to be written within an hour of completing the first activity of the day. And the worker is particularly useless without his opening statement. ("my" opening statement? I never know which pronouns to use here.) So I had a drink, and started planning out the rest of the day. I added up the TV shows on my hard drive to estimate the time it'd take to watch them (taking into account factors like that I take more time to absorb some shows and that I watch some shows at 1.50x speed): I kept taking things out until I had it at a manageable (for today) 5:25. Most of that time is catching up on 30 Rock, which I'm far behind on. But I've also planned to watch two episodes of Amazing Race, because I've got these little side-videos for the season that my parents have started watching and I want to know whether it's worth watching (and whether to tell them about it) before they reach the part where it starts. Anyway. Bottom line, 5:25 of TV. I intended to continue the day until the middle of Thursday, to have enough time to reconcile my own needs (with the data entry and everything) with what I have to do for the others. When I was finished planning it out, I slept for 2 hours.

I woke up, wrote a message for the programmer ("please fix sd"), and got started on this. I'd better wrap this up now- I've only got one minute left allocated to this activity.


2011, May 3rd, 03:12 and 26 seconds

Performance reviews for May 2011

Each day, I'm going to pick a different character. At the end of the month, when I look back at who I've been overall, I want to see a cohesive character who is defined first and foremost by his creativity. The nature of that creativity should be very diverse. I want to get the impression of a person so multifaceted and strange that one never knows what he will do next. This is not my natural state -I am a person prone to easy and repetitive patterns of behavior.- so the performance will likely require the careful and respectful collaboration of all eight of my personalities.

Back


Back

2011, April 19th, 20:15 and 7 seconds

A work in progress

Over the years I've found countless musical themes I liked. Most of them are very simple and straightforward melodies, because for all my insistence that music ought to go somewhere and sound interesting and surprise the listener, I grew up hearing nothing but popular music and that shaped my sensibilities. A lot of composers nowadays are content to create an atmosphere or aesthetic without focusing on a clear melody, but it doesn't take much to create an atmosphere. Here, I'll show you what I mean:

I threw this together in just a few minutes, with the barest hint of an idea. It's pretty enough, and I don't feel like any note there needs to be changed, but there's nothing there that you'd want to remember and nothing worth caring about too much. It's a disposable kind of music. If there were a catchy melody to latch on to, you'd be more invested in where it goes. When I'm trying to make a "composition" rather than a fleeting improvisation, there is then pressure to not lose the listener's interest at any point. The music needs to keep moving and developing. At every moment I need to be doing something new and interesting. And in the end there needs to be a satisfying resolution. These are not simple demands.

Typically when I come up with a theme I play it over and over and over again on the piano, and I'm happy to hear the melody each time I get back to it but I also know I should be doing more with it. I know that any one of my themes could be the subject of a fantastic composition, if only I approached it from the right angle. But usually I don't find that angle. Of the hundreds of themes I've tried to work with, maybe twenty have gotten all the way to having endings I'm satisfied with. At least half never got past the initial improvisation stage. And many have already been forgotten.

The composition I'm working on now is not in any way atypical. The theme came from an improvisation, it's going through a convoluted process of continual inspiration, refinement and censorship, and it's not likely (statistically speaking) that this will be the rare tune that makes it through. In this post, I'm going to walk you through the process of my latest composition attempt, step by awkward step. Imagine hundreds of earlier stories no less messy, and you'll have a sense of all my experiences as a composer.

It started when I played this:

Two things immediately jumped out at me from this tiny little idea. Firstly, I was ashamed to have played something so blatantly derivative. The first four notes came from the main theme of the late TV series 24, and were also very similar to the title music of the game The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. And the chord progression in the second half reminded me of the song Dust in the Wind, which I'd heard very recently. The second thing I noticed was that it was pretty, and I wondered where it might go. So I made a very slight adjustment that would avoid comparisons to 24 and Zelda:

I then played it over and over, careful to avoid the original chord progressions, and each time I would try to launch from the theme into an improvisation, to figure out what came next. But nothing came to me, because I found that with the tiny changes I'd made I no longer found the music as pretty. It felt like a diluted version of the original idea, which of course it was. So though I played with this theme for a while, I couldn't go for more than twenty seconds into any improvisation before stopping, either because I was hitting some note that came from the things I wanted to imitate, or because I was already bored, or because I'd already wandered off to places that had nothing to do with the theme. I decided to abandon the theme.

A few days later on a whim I picked it up again and started with a 6/4 chord instead of the chord's root position. Which is to say, the lowest note was an F instead of a B-flat like it normally would be. What this does is it prevents you from feeling like you're starting somewhere stable, so already from the first note you feel like the music needs to be moving somewhere. It sounded cool, which didn't surprise me because I've had a lot of fun in the past with taking chords that ought to be in root position and making them 6/4 chords. It always sounds interesting, whether or not it works. Anyway, the theme now had a very different kind of energy than it had started with. It had been calm and soothing; now it was vaguly ominous and impatient. In the span of an hour or so, I got the arrangement to a place I was happy with and even managed to move forward a few more measures.

I wasn't sure whether I loved the continuation or hated it. For one thing, I quickly realized it came from a tune for "Cottleston Pie" from Winnie the Pooh that I heard once on The Muppet Show. (Specifically, from the words "ask me a riddle".) I also wasn't sure I should be switching keys so quickly. You'll note that immediately after the part I already had, I go from B-flat minor to E-flat minor, wich isn't strange at all except for being so early in the piece. I couldn't make up my mind whether it sounded beautiful or jarring. So I played around with it a lot, seeing if I could easily separate it from "Cottleston Pie" (I couldn't.), or whether it would sound better without switching keys (It didn't.). Ultimately I decided to keep it. I figure the song is obscure enough, and as Steven Sanders once said: "The degree of your originality is directly proportional to the obscurity of who you steal from.". And I also decided that anything that could add momentum and musical interestingness was a good idea. Plus, I couldn't think of anything else to do with the piece, so it was "Cottleston Pie" or nothing.

As the days went on I kept adding to the music, a few measures at a time. It was like I was leaving a riddle for myself each time, and the next time I sat down I'd come up with a brief answer and immediately another riddle. The riddle was "Now what?", and not much would satisfy. I kept inadvertently stepping into pieces of music I'd heard, or other pieces of music I'd composed myself. And even worse than plagiarism or redundancy would be straightforwardness -this composition had begun with little harmonic games, so I felt that if I delivered anything other than a relentless stream of harmonic games with ever-increasing whimsy, I wouldn't be doing justice to the theme! After a few weeks, I had a piece that had plenty of momentum, but didn't seem to be going anywhere in particular. I sent this file to Moshe and Aviella, as an excuse to get more comfortable with the MIDI keyboard I'd just bought:

You'll note that toward the end (at 1:21) I ran out of music and started improvising in order to give the audio file some (false) sense of resolution before sending it. The very first few notes I improvised were channeling a tune from the Phoenix Wright games, and I hurriedly changed what I was doing, after which I had no idea what I should be doing. Par for the course.

It became apparent that I couldn't just keep pushing myself into the unknown. For one thing, the piece was already starting to get tiring to listen to. There needed to be a break from all the racing forward, and each time I tried anything that would qualify I felt like the composition had become utterly pointless. So I tried a new direction. I noticed that what I'd come up with so far was similar melodically (though not stylistically) to a theme of mine from years ago:

That's all there ever was of it -that theme didn't make it far through the process. And not for lack of trying: I pulled this theme out at least once or twice a year, flipping it around, trying to approach it from different angles, and never getting anywhere. I've always really liked what I have of it, but it stubbornly refuses to budge past that point. So I decided to mix the two themes into one composition.

I've done this sort of thing in only two of my previous compositions. There was one time years ago that I came up with a theme which was fun, but didn't seem strong enough to sustain a whole piece, at the same time that I was halfway through a composition with a similar theme. I didn't notice how well they fit together for a while, but when I did I found a way to work the little theme into the bigger piece, without compromising any of what I already had. It actually works quite well, I think.

The other precedent (and the one closer to my mind) was the last piece I completed, from this past October. There was one theme I wrote down in my music notebook (just a few measures) maybe five years ago, and there was another that I came up with on the day we left for our trip to America in 2007. Neither had ever developed substantially past where they started. But the two themes had a similarity, and I built on that. I inserted the two themes into copious atmosphere (which gave them more direction), and I ended up with what I think is a very fun piece that more than does justice to both themes. Here, listen for yourself. The two themes are introduced at 0:26 and 1:07.

See? A perfect marriage between these formerly separate themes. At first they alternate and compete for attention, but the farther you go the more intertwined the two ideas are. Anyway, I wanted to do something like that here, both because I was stuck and because the older theme was at a dead end. So I started building from what I had toward the other theme, the same way I did in the last composition.

(This starts from the middle of the version of the piece I sent to Moshe and Aviella - around 42 seconds into that file.)

I could see that I was getting closer to being able to play the other theme as I always did, but the closer I got the less satisfied I was with the direction I was headed. I really like that old theme, and I'd love an opportunity to finally use the harmonies and rhythms I had there. But this new theme has its charms too, and I was losing them. One theme is bright and bouncy, the other is dark and mysterious. One is in B-major and stays there, the other starts in B-flat minor and keeps moving. One is in 4/4 time, the other is in 3/4. One is jazzy, the other is more classical. So yes, there are strong similarities between the two pieces which can be built upon. But this isn't an obvious match.

On a recent Shabbat I spoke to Coren, a fellow musician, about my composition problems. I told him that everything I was doing made perfect sense, and yet it sounded like the pieces didn't quite fit together. Not just the new part which worked in the other theme - the whole thing. I liked the first twelve measures. There's a question, an answer, and a continuation. It's pretty. Everything past that point made me uncomfortable. But I couldn't figure out why. Everything I was doing made sense: it all surprised the listener and built on the theme(s) properly and sounded interesting and I knew from experience that combining two themes could work. And as I said all of this, Coren repeatedly insisted that music isn't supposed to make sense. He asked me where I wanted the music to go, regardless of where I thought it should go. And I said that really I just wanted to play the beginning over and over again. That's always what I want to do with my themes, but it's not very interesting, is it. They deserve better.

I told him about "A Lonely Journey", which is still my favorite thing I've composed. I wrote a piece which started with a pretty theme, moved forward chaotically, got to a variation, returned to the original version of the theme, moved forward differently, got to a different variation, and repeated until I eventually completed it with a bombastic ending. And then I threw out the whole thing, analyzed it thoroughly to figure out which parts were indispensible and which parts were wasting the listener's time, added in a new variation, and wrote a whole new piece based on this theme using what I'd learned. I explained to Coren: "There was a point I was trying to make here. I forget what it was."

Anyway, talking to Coren made me realize that I didn't like what I had. So I scrapped everything past the first thirty notes and started over.

Taking Coren's advice, I included what I believe is the only repeat I've used since my third composition, a decade ago. I don't like repeats, as a rule. Music should be moving forward. If a listener has already gotten the gist of what you're playing, you're wasting his time by playing it again in exactly the same way. Maybe if there were some different kind of harmony or something, you could keep his interest like that. Anyway, I put in a simple repeat and I don't know whether I like it or not. I also don't know if I like anything that comes after the repeat. Somehow in this recording I improvised my way into playing the other theme note-for-note the way it was originally, and it doesn't feel entirely out of place. I wasn't expecting the transition to be that easy. But I don't know if I'm comfortable anymore with keeping that theme the way it was. This piece is its own thing, and I shouldn't shape the whole thing around that moment.

The problem is, if I don't include the second theme as it was, I'll never be able to use it anywhere. That's me declaring outright: "This theme may never be made into a complete composition.", because I like some of the bits of it that are in here and if I manage to complete this I won't want to repeat myself later. And it's not like the theme was moving anywhere anyway, but the reason I kept pulling it out year after year was that I hoped it could find a structure that suited it. This isn't really it. I mean, after I play the second theme in the time signature of the first theme (immediately before and after the repeat), I still need to basically stop everything and start again in order to begin the real transition, and then when I switch time signatures it's another break. That's a clumsy way of moving a piece forward, no? So I started messing around with other ways to combine the two very different pieces, and came up with this:

I don't know what that is exactly. I thought it might be a way to get from the ambiance I'm starting from to where I'm going, but it seems like more of a "child theme" for later in the piece. Which means that now I've got yet another thing to try to force the piece into. On the other hand, it sounds like a cross between the Titanic song and the end of the Felicity theme in the style of the music used in the trailer for Peter Pan! So maybe I'll throw it out, or just change it...

I have no idea where this is going. It may well be that these ideas aren't going to coalesce into anything I'm happy with, in which case this is just another theme to throw to the pile. But maybe the next time I go to the piano the pieces will fall into place. It's unlikely, but somehow I've completed other compositions and I can guarantee I didn't go any easier on them. We'll see.


2011, April 3rd, 17:15 precisely

Performance reviews for April 2011

The Rules are a really huge step, and I have no idea whether this kind of character-building can work in the real world. I need proof of the method's legitimacy. So I'm going to set myself goals which are mildly unrealistic for one person to do in one month. If I can really act like multiple people, I'll be able to handle it easily. And if I can't, I'll go back to the one-character approach. During the month of April, I expect:
  • An average score of at least 7/10
  • 30 hours of work on Angles & Circles
  • Two more blog posts
  • Significant progress on at least one piece of music
  • To finish inputting all the scores from games nights
  • To finish the book Otherland and return it
  • To stay up to date with all the TV shows and comics I want to follow, including the ones which are starting this month
  • To finish playing at least one game, and
  • To rewatch a TV season and reread a comic book run.
These goals reflect the sort of meta-character I'd like to play on a regular basis. How I operate moving forward entirely depends on my performance this month.




Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

I sing the melody line for the first four bars of "A Lonely Journey", quietly, very slowly and with minimalistic accompaniment. That gets the audience familiar with and interested in the main theme. Then I stop singing and switch to piano. I don't shy away from the tedious repetition at the end; I make it longer, and speak over it: "It's over as quickly as it began."...

I talk about The Rules.


Go back

2011, April 1st, 3:47 and 34 seconds

The Rules

The Dialogues

I am playing Mory Buckman, an experimental blogger in the early 21st century. The goal of the game is to get points.


The game is played in distinct rounds (I will refer to them as "days", not to be confused with the usual meaning.) of variable length. At specific events the game will pause, either after a day concludes or in the middle of a day, but the game will eventually resume (beginning a new day, if necessary). In each day, a set of behaviors and attitudes will be displayed which I will call a "character". With certain exceptions which will be defined in the "standard characters" section, this character should never be broken while a day is in progress. During a break in the game (while no character is needed), only these seven actions are permitted:
  • Scoring the past day
  • Sleeping
  • Using the bathroom
  • Planning
  • Celebrating a religious holiday
  • Exercising
  • Conversation
  • An event involving other people which was scheduled in advance
If anything else is done (including reading, eating, drinking, playing piano, singing, opening any program on the computer other than the one used for scoring, etc.), a day must be in progress. If the last day was merely paused it resumes, and if that day has already been scored (and is therefore no longer in progress) a new day begins.

Starting a day
A day has started when I've written down the starting time on a piece of paper. I then must get into character for the day. This is done with two actions, which will both be taken but in either order:
  1. Writing an opening statement. This may be long or short, depending on the character and the day, but it should be something which only the character I am playing would say. It's a good idea, after writing the opening statement, to sit and think about it for a minute or two.
  2. A character-appropriate first activity. This may or may not be an activity which the character is going to focus on throughout the day, but it should be something that gets my mind to wherever it needs to be.
Note: an opening statement can and should be written before the day begins, because this action is considered to be "planning" for the day, which is allowed during a break.

If a day has been in progress for twenty minutes and no first activity has been declared, then I will write a collective title for what I have been doing for the past twenty minutes and declare that as my first activity.

As soon as I take a break from whatever my first activity was declared to be, I will write down the time of conclusion. The activity may be returned to later, and if so that will be reflected in the time allocation table but not the "first activity" field. From the minute the first activity is concluded, I have one hour to write an opening statement if I have not done so already. If an hour has passed from the end of my first activity and no opening statement has yet been written, I am no longer entitled to write an opening statement and a blank space will be written in its place.

Activities
When I decide that I've started an activity, its start time is written on a piece of paper. If at any point it cannot validly be said that I am focusing on that activity, an end time must be written and the activity is no longer considered to be in progress. I can return to that activity later and write a new start time; the total time spent on each activity will be counted at the end of the day.

For the purposes of the time allocation table, every single minute of the day past the first activity is allocated to one and only one activity. However, not all activities will be judged by the character to be worth mentioning. If for whatever reason a minute was not accounted for, it counts toward the total for "mundane activities". (Note: if the first activity of the day is mundane, it will be singled out in the "first activity" field but not in the time allocation table.) If at the end of the day mundane activities exceed one quarter of the total time in the day, at least one point will be reduced from the day's score. Note: The first activity is not counted in the time allocation table, but only in its own field.

Ending or pausing a day
At any time and for any reason, a day may be paused or ended. This is signified by writing an end time for any activity in progress, and then writing an end time for the day. If the day is scored, the day is immediately ended and no further progress can be made on it. If the day is not scored, then the day is paused and it will be continued when a new start time is written. The minimum length of a day is three hours, and the maximum length is one week.

There is a procedure of steps that must be taken before scoring at the end of a day. First, I will fill out the time allocation table, subtracting the sum of used time from the time in the day to find "mundane activities". Then I will fill in the first activity field. I will write a closing statement reflecting the character's thoughts on the day. A seemingly chaotic day may be scored well if the closing statement successfully paints the time allocation table as a coherent story. Then a performance review is written to justify the final score.

If I am not already familiar with the character I was playing, the scoring is entirely subjective and is based mainly on two criteria:
  1. Whether I like the character
  2. Whether the character's actions during the day add something I like to the ongoing story of my life.
If it is a character I know, character-specific scoring rules will apply. If rules or principles have been broken, points are taken away after any applicable character-specific scoring rules. Conversely, if the activities of the day present a particularly believable representation of the character, one point will be added (with the maximum still not exceeding ten). The scoring should follow the harshest possible reading of the rules, but the review itself should gently emphasize the positive in the day.

Standard characters







Multiple personalities might not be the most obvious direction for the blog, given the setup so far. There's the distinct possibility that all of this is just a colossal distraction, and will not get me closer to my ideal self. Rules are needed to prevent each character from going his own way.
The explorer has been cooped up for too long in a little house. He longs to find new opportunities, real or virtual, and he doesn't care where they come from. A metalude, a tree branch, a book, the internet... as long as there are new things to see, the explorer will go there. Normally he's easily distracted, but he could sit and stare at a random object for an hour just because he likes the way it looks. The explorer is an overgrown child, and he insists on seeing the world as a place worthy of his interest. When that fails, he watches movies and doodles onto little pieces of paper.

Opening statement: Short and vague. Anything beginning with "I wonder..." will do, or "Remember when...". Any question or random thought offered is going to be followed up on somehow, because the explorer tends to fixate on small ideas.

Closing statement: Long and appreciative of whatever I've experienced. If I don't have anything to say, I've been living the whole day wrong. The statement will conclude with an idea for a day that someone else should follow. If the average score for the month is equal to or above 7/10, the statement may conclude with an idea for a day that someone else should follow.

Edited on July 3rd 2011


General rules:
If I notice something that piques my curiosity, I must immediately put down whatever else I'm doing and give the new curiosity 100% of my attention until my interest is no longer being held.

If whatever I'm doing has failed to excite me in any way during a 20-minute period, I immediately must either stop or look for a way to be engaged while doing it. Actually, twenty minutes is already a long time. If I'm not interested by something for ten minutes, I should already be thinking ahead to prevent possible boredom. I may not get bored, under any circumstances.

Piano playing counts as an activity. Whether it is composition or improvisation is irrelevant.

TV is off limits, except for episodes which I've already seen.

Scoring rules:
At the end of the day, I need to ask myself: "Is there a place that I know better now than yesterday?". If the answer is no, then my score may not exceed 5/10. If the answer is yes, then my score will be at least 3/10.

If I have spent more time watching movies than being creative (includes game creation, writing, piano, and even lengthy thinking), my score may not exceed 7/10.

My score (before external modifiers) will be determined (on the scale from the minimum allowed to the maximum allowed) by answering the question: "How much do I care about the places I've been to today?". I should justify my answer with things I said in the closing statement.
The worker needs to feel useful. He likes to organize, and set things up, and learn new skills and put them to use. He wants to know that his abilities are appreciated, but if they're not he'll still put them to use. Data entry is the height of entertainment as far as he's concerned, because he can continually challenge himself to be more efficient. Everything which doesn't serve a purpose or hone a marketable skill is a waste of time, but there are two wastes of time he'll indulge in. Comic books are enjoyable because they allow for organizing later, and TV shows are a great way to unwind from all the running around.

Opening statement: A full schedule for the day, down to the minute. The activities are ordered according to priority, with time-wasters coming last. The statement ends with the sentence: "I'm not good enough, but today will be perfect." If the average score for the month is equal to or above 7/10, the first half of that sentence will be left out.

Closing statement: A list of accomplishments from the day. Also, I need to specify and justify each and every deviation from the schedule.


General rules:
The schedule in the opening statement must be followed at all times. If a change in the schedule is necessitated, the rest of the day must immediately be replanned in its entirety.

The first activity of the day may not be passive. When adjusting the time allocated to passive entertainments in a previously-declared schedule, the starting time may be postponed (but not past the declared end time), and the ending time may be advanced (but not before the declared start time). However, no passive entertainments may be added to a previously-declared schedule for time which had not already been allocated for the purpose.

I need to be sociable and friendly with any person I come in contact with. If my schedule needs to be changed to accomodate someone else's timetable, the revised schedule must leave enough time to get everything done that I had planned (with the exception of time-wasters). When notifying other people that I need to get back to my schedule, I must be polite but forceful.

No gaming (except for Wii Fit, but that can be played before the day begins because it's exercise). Making games is acceptable, and it's best to be extremely specific in the schedule about which aspect will be worked on.

No web activity unless it serves a practical purpose.

Scoring rules:
If TV-watching is the longest activity, the day gets 0/10. If comics are the longest activity and little of that time was spent on organizing them, the day gets 0/10.

The schedule (or if there were changes, the last revision of the schedule) is scored on a scale from 5 to 10, for the following criteria:
  • How many things needed to be done? (3=good, 1=not enough)
  • Do any of the activities affect other people, or make me money?
  • Are these activities helpful for my future plans?
The day is then scored on a scale from 0 to whatever the plan received, based on how accurately the day reflected the schedule.
The gamer is restless. He always wants to keep moving, to get as much out of the day as possible. World to world, activity to activity. The gamer prefers virtual experiences to real ones, because they're more easily controlled. He can decide what he wants to get out of an hour, and if he doesn't get it he can move on to something else. Whatever he does, he always has the nagging sense that he could be getting more out of his minute. This essential hunger leads him to be very critical of everything he experiences.

Opening statement: A brief list of intended activities. The more specific the goals, the better. They do not necessarily have to be games, and some of them may be in the same game. A strong plan will contain at least three different Forms. The list may not include any plans with clear practical value.

Closing statement: A critique of the day's most notable experiences.


General rules:
I am under no obligation to run through the list from the opening statement. If some other activity holds my interest, I can spend all day with it and not worry about the plan.

No reading, watching movies, watching TV, listening to music, or any such passive activities. Whatever I do, I'm going to be the driving force behind it. The only passive activity allowed is getting other people to play games.

Frustration is to be met with an increased determination. I may abandon an activity because I have something better to do, but I may not abandon an activity for being "too hard" or even for becoming tedious.

Thinking or writing about a particular game counts as time spent on that game, and is added to whatever time is spent playing it.

Scoring rules:
What is being scored is progress. I look at how my status has changed in each of the game worlds, and decide whether the sum of this progress is substantial. Whether I enjoyed it or not is irrelevant. For calculating progress, minigames are considered to be separate games in their own right (rather than insignificant parts of a larger game). I decide -on a scale from 0 to 10- how much progress has been made by myself as a player, by my avatars in their respective stories, or by the avatars of other people I've been watching, and this is my final score for the day.
The musician doesn't care about anything except for music. He wants to surround himself with music, and live inside the music as though it were a tangible place, and in general is utterly detached from anything which isn't abstract.

Opening statement: Anything at all. Any rambling thought or feeling that happens to pop into my head, and it might have absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the day.

Closing statement: Try to verbalize some of the feelings, structures, ideas, etc. that I've encountered in music during the day.


General rules:
Only two activities will be listed in the time allocation table. They are:
  1. Music
  2. Mundane activities
No further distinctions may be made.

Scoring rules:
Eight of the ten points are determined by how short "mundane activities" were relative to the length of the day. If they took less than a tenth of the day's length, a full eight points are given. If they took more than half the day's length, that's worth zero points.

The other two points are based on what was played during the day and how I feel about it. One point is given for "That's not bad.", and two points are given for "My god that's amazing.".
The programmer has a keenly analytical mind, and relishes the opportunity to test it. If he finds a challenge he can't overcome, he turns it over and approaches it from different angles and searches the web for ideas and runs experiments until a solution has been found. The programmer is frustrated by unclear goals, and delighted by rule system games of all kinds.

Opening statement: A specific and nontrivial challenge is stated, along with an initial plan of approach. The challenge will be overcome, but not necessarily by this method.

Closing statement: An overview of the solution, if one has been found, or a description of the problem as it stands.

Edited on July 3rd, 2011


General rules:
No entertainment may be indulged in which does not have clear rules. (Passive mystery stories are acceptable.)

Once I start on a puzzle of some sort, I must either solve it by the end of the day or spend no less than three hours attempting to do so.

Web browsing (including e-mails, RSS feeds and blog-reading) are all prohibited except when in the service of solving a problem. Maintenance and programming for my own blog are allowed.

Creative work is only acceptable if it involves either programming or comparable problem solving.

Scoring rules:
If the problem mentioned in the opening statement was either solved or tackled for 5 hours in total, four points. (Otherwise, no points. It's a binary thing; there's no reward for a job half done.)

The other six points will be distributed based on an estimation of how much I stretched my mind during the day. If there was no mental stimulation at all I get no points. (The worker could have done better.) If I had to pause and think for just a few minutes I get two points. And if I learned an entire new way of thinking, that's six points. (If I exerted my mind for reasons unrelated to any problem-solving or programming, I still get the points.)
The thinker sees life as a series of interconnected blog posts. He believes that planning is the cure to confusion, and that stories give inspiration valuable for everyday life. What he does not believe in is actually doing things. He would rather spend years writing about the gloriousness of inactivity than spend five minutes applying himself. He says that a distance from the world is necessary in order to see the world clearly. The other characters might benefit from his perspective, but they'll still have to do the work.
The thinker sees life as a series of interconnected blog posts. He believes that planning is the cure to confusion, and that stories give inspiration valuable for everyday life. His dream is to tell stories himself, with enough conviction for these fictions to become true.

Opening statement: A brief summary of the past few days, as they relate to my life today. The purpose is not to commit to any actions, but simply to put the day in an interesting context that I can make sense of later.

Closing statement: What ideas have come to me, and how these ideas play off the backdrop presented in the opening statement. The closing statement may include plans and messages for other characters.


General rules:
Blogs, books, newspaper articles, and the time spent thinking about all of these are all lumped together into "reading". Comics are not. General thoughts about life can be attributed either to whatever activity sparked said thoughts, or to "the blog".

I may only watch a TV show that I really care about. Such strong feelings will provoke interesting thoughts. Other shows are distractions.

When I am following a train of thought, I need to go wherever it leads and do whatever it suggests to sort out my feelings on the subject.

Three hours into the day, I should already be trying to tie my activities together into a single coherent line of thought.

With the exception of activities which are literally everyday, every single action should be accounted for regardless of how insignificant it may seem.

A day will be between five hours and fifteen. If the day has had fifteen hours, stop immediately. Whether I feel I've reached the end of the thought is not a factor. This rule does not apply if the average score for the month is equal to or above 7/10.


Before getting lost in my own thoughts, I must first look at the other personalities' recent achievements and problems. I am here for them.

Scoring rules:
What is being scored is the closing statement, moreso than the time allocation table. From 0 to 10, I am being asked to indicate the value of whatever thought I have conveyed. That means whatever I think it does.
Scoring rules:
On a scale from 0 to 4, decide how original the thought in the closing statement seems. Of course nothing in the world can truly be original, so imagine we're actually using a scale of 0 to 100. A 4 on that scale would represent a thought which is new to me, while a 2 is something which just extends the ideas I've already had a little bit further than I've thought of before. (Even if some day God should grant me an idea that's truly original, no more than four points for originality.)

Then on a scale from 0 to 6, judge the coherence of the day as a story which culminates in that thought. Long activities that have nothing to do with the final thought will reduce this score.

Add the originality points to the coherence points to get the full score. Any other character or characters may add or subtract a point from this score (each - multiple characters can use this rule for one day), for any reason at all. To do so, that character must present himself in the performance review and announce the change.

Edited on July 1st, 2011

The addict has a one-track mind. Once he gets an idea in his head, he can't focus on anything else.

Opening and closing statements: Love letters to whatever pursuit I've chosen to be addicted to.


General rules:
Whatever my first activity is is to be treated as the subject of my addiction (regardless of what the opening statement was about). I may repeat this activity, I may write a blog post about the activity, I may do other activities which are peripherally related. I may not do anything else.

If I am unable to focus on my chosen activity, or if I can think of nothing left to do with it, the day must immediately end.

The addict may not be played if one of the past two days was played by the addict, even if the subject of the addiction is different. However, since I am talking about game days rather than "actual" days, it's perfectly okay (though a difficult strategy) to pause the game for long enough to sleep in the middle of the day!

The addict's focus may not be:
  • A TV show
  • Comics
  • On the web, with the exception of this blog
  • Overly general - I can be addicted to a particular gamist's games, but not a particular kind of game
  • Entirely reliant on other people's participation
Otherwise, anything's fair game. This rule does not apply if the average score for the month is equal to or above 7/10.

Scoring rules:
The final score is the total number of hours spent on the subject of the addiction or related activities, minus time spent on anything else, plus 2. The minimum score is zero, the maximum score is ten. No other rules apply.
The person is paralyzed without other people. The other characters are often paralyzed when in the presence of other people. So all the characters are willing to turn control over to the person for a few hours. He'll do whatever makes sense for whatever social situation he's in, and then pass control back to whoever called him.

Rules for switching characters:
Control may be passed to the person at any time. The person may choose at any time to pass control back to the previous character. If the day was begun by the person (rather than passed to him by someone else), the person may choose to switch to any one character during the day.

If a day has been played by two characters, and both characters were active for at least a third of the day, the closing statement can be given for either one of the characters, and that determines which character's scoring rules apply.

If a day has been played by two characters, but one of those characters was active for less than a third of the day, then the closing statement and scoring will follow the other character's rules and anything done by the less-active character may be treated retroactively like it was a pause in the game. (Either all of it is ignored, or all of it is taken into account. No picking and choosing.)

Opening and closing statements: Talk about the other people who are on my mind.

General rules:
The concerns of other people, real or fictional, must always take precedence over my own concerns except for cases which will clearly lead to my immediate or eventual harm. The concerns of real people must always take precendence over the concerns of fictional people.

If I have been in control for an hour and no social interaction (or an activity whose main intent is preparation for social interaction) has taken place, the day must be ended immediately. This one-hour timer is not counting for any character but the Person, and is reset upon switching to the Person. (This rule applies even when the Person did not start the day.)

Scoring "rule":
Decide how meaningful the day was to me, taken on its own. Use whatever criteria seem appropriate.

Scoring "rule":
Decide how much positive change has occurred in my relationships with other people (real or fictional), compared to how much progress I estimate I could possibly have accomplished given the scenarios I was present in. If most of the potential for maintaining, building and strengthening relationships was reached, 10 points. If opportunities were entirely missed, zero points. If there was no potential at all, zero points. (I should not have spent a majority of the day as the person in that situation.)

Edited on July 1st, 2011

General behavioral patterns

If I get a 5/10 or lower, I may not play a character with similar interests on the next day.

I should always have at least a week planned out in broad strokes.

If I run into a situation which I don't know how to handle as whatever character I'm playing, I should schedule a character who can bypass the problem for before the next time I repeat the character who's struggling.

If other people unexpectedly become involved in a day, immediately switch to the person. I'll work out the details later.

The last day of the month is the addict, even if another addict has been played in the past two days. The subject of addiction must be a meeting of the personalities, which will be posted on the blog. The addict must play normally, including taking notes, but the day will not be scored and the time allocation table will not be posted on the web.

Edited on July 1st, 2011

If I continue a day after an interruption of over 5 hours, I should treat the next activity as a "first activity" to get back into the right mindset.

Always exercise (with Wii Fit) and tend to general hygiene each morning.

The game enters a mandatory break at 3:00 AM, regardless of character. The game may only continue after 7:00 AM, and no activities (including web-browsing, reading, reading comics or anything else) may be undertaken until that time.

In busy TV seasons, schedule two workers per week. I'll be watching the TV shows one way or another, and it's best not to mess up any days in the process.

A thinker should be scheduled for the earliest possible time as soon as I start to have feelings that I don't understand.

If I ever go a week without playing more than three hours of games (other than Wii Fit) which I didn't make myself, I should schedule a gamer.

If I'm having trouble playing a given character, don't wait for problems. Immediately pause the game and do whatever I need to do to get my head back in it. Reread this blog post, recite motivations out loud and repeatedly, jump up and down to build up energy, whatever.

It's a good idea to schedule characters who aren't similar to how I've been feeling. I should force myself to stretch my personality, rather than expecting characters which won't be a stretch. In fact, I may sometimes want to forgo scheduled characters just because they'll be too easy to play.Never demand anything from a character which does not fit their nature. Never put pressure on the Musician. Never expect the Worker to improvise. Never require the Explorer to focus. Never force the Gamer to be productive. And so on.

Before starting the day, figure everything out (while writing the opening statement) and get into the right frame of mind. Only when I'm sure I'm ready should I actually start.

If I'm feeling any kind of anxiety at all, do not play the addict!

If any kind of depression starts coming, or if I feel like I'm on the verge of burning out, do not delay in scheduling get-togethers with friends. It cannot be overstated how important this is.

I need to be very, very careful about when I choose to watch TV. There are all sorts of minefields to navigate with an activity so passive.

Unless I am playing a character who would not logically attend a social event, I should not pause the day when attending. If I do pause the day for this purpose, it is good form to specify this in the notes for the day.

Once a character has written an opening statement, no other character (other than the person) may be in control until the day has been ended. The penalty for breaking this rule is being banned for two weeks. A banned character may return early if (and only if) a majority of the other characters feel he is needed.

Back to performance reviews



If a game is in progress at 2:00 PM, 7:40 PM or 1:11 AM, I must pause the game at each of those times for at least one minute and consider my behaviors. I should specifically focus on whether the day is shaping up to be a reflection of the principles whatever character I'm playing stands for. If not, I may not continue the game until deciding how I will correct the problem.

Edited on July 1st, 2011



If twenty-four hours have passed since the last scoring period, the score for the day must immediately be estimated. (A precise calculation may not be possible before the closing statement and performance review.) If it is estimated that the score for the day (were it concluded immediately) would be 7/10 or higher, then the day may continue. Otherwise, the day must conclude immediately, and the formal review will take place.

If my plans rely on another person's involvement, and I do not know for certain that that person is 100% trustworthy on matters of time and place, the schedule should be confirmed with that person at some point within the twenty-four hours before his or her participation is required. If the person doesn't follow through and I didn't confirm, I have no one to blame but myself. (If I did confirm and the person doesn't follow through, blame away.) This rule may not be invoked to justify not being trustworthy myself. If a date and time has been agreed upon, I must be ready whether or not I have been reminded.

Edited on August 31st, 2011

At each multiple of 24 hours after the last scoring period, assuming that at least six hours have passed in the day, the score for the day must immediately be estimated. (A precise calculation may not be possible before the closing statement and performance review.) If it is estimated that the score for the day (were it concluded immediately) would be 7/10 or higher, then the day may continue. Otherwise, the day must conclude immediately, and the formal review will take place. This rule does not apply if the average score for the month is equal to or above 7/10.

If my plans rely on another person's involvement, and I do not know for certain that that person is 100% trustworthy on matters of time and place, the schedule should be confirmed with that person at some point within the twenty-four hours before his or her participation is required. If the person doesn't follow through and I didn't confirm, I have no one to blame but myself. (If I did confirm and the person doesn't follow through, blame away.) This rule may not be invoked to justify not being trustworthy myself. If a date and time has been agreed upon, I must be ready whether or not I have been reminded.

If the average score for the month after a scoring is under 6/10, the game immediately enters panic mode. During panic mode, the following rules are in effect:
  • No one (not even the Worker) may watch TV.
  • No one may read or edit comics. This even applies to the daily strips and regular webcomics.
  • No one (not even the Explorer) may watch movies.
  • Playing piano is only allowed for the Musician.
  • There will be no more than two hours of gaming per day for anyone except the Gamer. This does not apply to game-like activities that make money, such as data entry.
  • Web-browsing, with the exception of e-mail but including blogs, news sites and reference sites, may only be done by the Thinker.
In cases where the activities are a form of socializing, these rules do not apply to the Person. Comics are always forbidden, because while sharing comics might be social, the actual reading and editing is never a social activity. Web browsing is also forbidden for the Person, simply because forums are too dangerous an addiction to risk during panic mode. If the Gamer has a day during panic mode, it must be no longer than 12 hours in length and it must be followed by the Worker.
Panic mode ends immediately after scoring a day that pushes the average score for the month to 6.0/10 or above, or when a new month begins.

Edited on October 31st, 2011

Edited on September 28th, 2011

If a rule requires that the day be immediately ended, but the day has not yet reached its minimum length of three hours, then a conference will immediately take place. During this conference, the Thinker will decide on a different character (or a different version of the same character) for whom the activities engaged in so far would not be out of character, but who would not (unlike the replaced character) be required (for whatever reason) to end the day yet. After the conference, this character will immediately write a new opening statement, which will overwrite the previous statement, and the new character will take full responsibility for the entire day including the other character's actions. Use of this (rather obscure) rule must be listed in the notes for the day.

I reserve the right, as the programmer or the thinker, to add more rules here later. Suggestions are also welcome.
Now for the tricky part: these characters need to work together, to collectively form the version of myself that I've been hoping for. He doesn't need to be perfect, he just needs to be capable of navigating ridiculously varied and massively complex situations. I also need to avoid the extremes the earlier versions of me fell into: I can't lose sight of the rules, and I can't focus so much on the rules that it all becomes about finding loopholes.

Tuesday, July 01, 2014

The Official Rules

I am playing as the extra meeple that came with the box.
The goal of the game is to get coins.


Preparation
Assemble a board and decide whether it contains the tableau. The player to the right begins the bidding and passes 4 tokens while the board is shuffled. Fold the tableau clockwise and remove 17 spirit tokens (face up), which must be distributed randomly. Without sharing information, write preferences for each player separately. Rip open 1 loan packet (sold separately) and distribute equitably. Any returning players may now play red and white (but not green) coins won in previous rounds to attempt to enter the game.

Committing a search action
In a turn, to discover whether an area exists in physical space to move to, consult the Instruction Manual (eXtended), a.k.a. "The Blog". Press Ctrl+F on a PC to open a "find in page" dialog, and type the key phrase corresponding to the character that would be allowed to occupy such an area if the area were on the board. Do not speak the name or key phrase of any other character, or the turn is forfeit.

Key phrases
  • black and black
  • mory@Mory
  • her or her
  • zero friction
  • music by Mordechai
  • run free
  • back to the book
  • back button

2011, March 13th, 21:25 and 54 seconds

A treasure hunt

I am going to define a "song" as lyrics sung to a tune. There were seven short songs by this definition scattered through the blog prior to May 2010. Or, there would have been songs if I'd had a good way to record them. Instead, the songs either were referred to, were alluded to without details, or had their complete lyrics displayed, but there was no music. Some of these songs were serious, and some were very silly. Some were complete, and some were just rough ideas. Some of them had lyrics I didn't write. One of them I wrote with the intention of only ever sharing the lyrics. Others I've always been looking for an excuse to share with you in their original forms. I have now recorded myself singing all seven songs, with accompaniment where appropriate, and I have linked to these recordings from the original posts. Some of the songs are out in the open, accessible by just holding down the Page Down key for long enough. Others are so well hidden that I doubt anyone will find them. Happy hunting.


2011, March 2nd, 4:22 and 16 seconds

Performance reviews for March 2011


2011, February 28th, 3:16 and 47 seconds

Finally: My family game night

When my mother asked me what I wanted for my 23rd birthday, I couldn't think of an answer she'd consider valid. Both my parents were insistent that I have enough games, and why on Earth would I need yet another one? How about a good book, or... a good book? (It's taking me months to get through the two books I'm already in the middle of!) Or driving lessons? (I don't want to drive cars.) Or going out to a fancy restaurant, maybe? (Food is gone in an instant, leaving just the barest hint of a memory behind.) My father bought a Megillah, because as he says (though I have no memory of this) he's always wanted for us to have our own Megillah I can read from on Purim. That's pretty cool. Today I heard him refer to it in a phone conversation as a "birthday present" for me, though he's never put it in those terms for me. I just wanted another game or two, but they didn't want to get me something I'd appreciate; they just wanted to share something they'd appreciate with me.

"Are there any educational games you want?", my mother asked me. "Define educational.", I answered. They said I was being unreasonably rigid in my interests, and I said that my interests were very broad- there are a lot of different kinds of games! And I laughed, not because what I was saying was silly but because I knew that they had no idea what I was talking about. Games were one thing in their eyes, and they could only ever be that one thing: a waste of time. They didn't understand what it was like to get a truly new experience, or to get lost in a foreign world, or to reinvent themselves for a few hours. And while I felt like my values were being ridiculed, at the same time I pitied them. I wished they could appreciate the things I appreciate.

My mother kept asking what she could get me, and I kept failing to respond. With everything they'd given me in life already there really wasn't anything left (short of new games) that I wanted. Except for that one thing, which of course was out of the question because everyone but me seems to always be too busy with the real world. I didn't expect any real connection with my family, anymore. I'd moved on, and gotten myself friends to fill the gap in my life where it felt like a family ought to be. I've got Moshe now, and Avri and his board game club, and Harel and Rachel, and Aviella, all people I can be myself around without always worrying. With family, I know that my very existence could be offensive to them and they'd still pretend they didn't despise me because you're not allowed to despise family. But now I have lots of people who I don't need to second-guess, so I didn't get my hopes up when I asked once again if they'd play games with me.

But they said yes. My parents and Dena and Miriam all accepted that on some evening, they'd all come home and play games with me.

Hearing this consensus, my mind raced with the possibilities. I ran through the list of my favorite videogames, imagining how I could present these experiences to involve all of them. But then I remembered what I'd said once about that, and I stopped myself. I wasn't nearly as desperate this year, so I could think a bit more logically. Even if I found a way to get every single one of them to truly experience, say, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, they wouldn't enjoy it. And then what? Did I really want to put my favorite experiences up for being judged by people who I expected to be incapable of appreciating them?

My mother doesn't like for anything to ever be tense. My father doesn't like ever feeling like he's not in complete control. Miriam doesn't like anything that's challenging. And Dena doesn't like things that don't fit into neat little socially-acceptable categories. The challenge wasn't to get them to appreciate my favorite experiences. That was unwinnable. The challenge was to find a game in which they could appreciate some of what I love about games.

I surprised everyone by picking not videogames (as I've always tried to give them) but board games. Three games, in a very particular order: Clue: The Great Museum Caper, Shadows Over Camelot, Robo Rally. The first of those we've owned for over fifteen years but never played, and the other two I borrowed from Avri. These are games which involve skill but also teamwork, with rulesets that pull the players in to very specific miniature worlds.

Part of the reason I wanted to start with The Great Museum Caper is that playing a game called Clue is something our family does have experience with, though we haven't played that game in years and even when we did it wasn't more frequently than one game every two or three years. But still, starting with something like Robo Rally which even looks alien would alienate all of them right off the bat, whereas if we can say we're playing with "Colonel Mustard" and "Mrs. Peacock" there's the illusion of familiarity. I say "illusion" because The Great Museum Caper actually is absolutely nothing like Clue. It's a very clever and surprisingly complex game that just happens to be branded "Clue".

The game has a very nice 3D board representing an art museum, with famous paintings spread throughout the rooms and security cameras placed strategically. Three players are guards, and one player is a thief. The thief doesn't actually move around the board, but writes her moves on a pad of paper behind a shield. The guards need to work together to figure out where she is, and catch her. The thief tries to steal as many paintings as she can get away with, disabling cameras to aid her movement. When she's spotted, she needs to escape the building before the guards catch up to her. You play the game four times, so that each player gets to be the thief, and whoever stole the most paintings as thief wins.

I was worried that there would be unrest, because it was a four-player game and we were five players. But the game was a major hit. We took turns sitting out of rounds, and all five of us got to be thieves. Dena was the first thief, and got three paintings before escaping. Everyone else was caught. My father was really sneaky, and we were chasing him around for a long time. But then, immediately after taking a painting (thereby letting us know where he was) he asked "So to disable a camera, I just need to step on it?", which was not smart. My mother immediately ran to the only nearby camera, and caught him. I made a similar mistake, stopping on a point where two cameras intersected (thereby letting the guards know precisely where I was). My mother didn't even make it out of the room she started in, because she doesn't know how to be sneaky. But every one of us enjoyed the game, such that we would have all been up for another five rounds if I hadn't insisted on bringing out the next game.

After a break for pizza, I explained the rules for Shadows Over Camelot. "We are the Knights of the Round Table", I announced, "tirelessly fighting against the forces of evil!". The game is cooperative, but normally there's one randomly picked player who's (unbeknownst to all) playing a traitor, and that player secretly sabotages the other players' plans. We didn't do that, because if there were a traitor then everyone would need to understand all the rules perfectly, and I didn't have that kind of time. If we were all on the same side, then the rules could be clarified at any relevant point without raising suspicions. Another rule I did away with was that each knight has his own personal ability, again to simplify.

After The Great Museum Caper, we were all thinking in terms of both cooperating with each other and serving our own interests (The traitor would have added a lot of welcome drama to the proceedings, but the time limitations were what they were.), and now those attitudes would go into a big world with lots of small games inside it. Unfortunately my father sat out of the entire game, because he'd just gotten a phone call notifying him that a patient of his had died, and needed to go to the family. The rest of us worked together. Dena (playing as King Arthur, fittingly) did much of the heavy lifting in the Quests: she searched for the Grail, she jousted with the Black Knight, and she single-handedly fought off the Pict invasion. My mother helped out wherever she could, and eventually stood against the siege engines rolling toward the castle while the rest of us travelled. I served as advisor to all the other players. And Miriam did whatever we told her to do. With our teamwork, the forces of evil were no match for us. (I hope we can come back to Camelot some day, playing with all the rules this time.)

My father came back in time to see the tail end of the game, not understanding much of what he was seeing. Over my objections my family insisted on a break for birthday cheesecake, and then I tried to explain Robo Rally.

A large part of the reason I wanted Robo Rally is that my father is a fan of The Amazing Race. It's a reality TV show where teams of two race around the world having to deal with all sorts of challenges without letting tensions get in the way of their teamwork. My mother watches with him, and I thought it would be very interesting to see how they dealt with a similar structure in a game. (Again, the existence of a traitor in Shadows Over Camelot would have led neatly into the sort of backstabbing that Robo Rally inspires. Ah well.) We were three teams, two teams of two and me. (I figured this would be balanced because I have so much experience with the game.) I had picked out a very simple board and decided where I'd be placing three flags. They were close to the starting points, because it was already late and I wanted to have a full game.

In Robo Rally each player controls a robot on a board filled with obstacles. You give the robot five commands, and it executes those commands one after the other. You move around, you go onto conveyor belts to move faster, you push the other robots into pits, you shoot lasers at each other, and eventually each team needs to get to the three flags, in order. My father played with Dena, and my mother played with Miriam. This was not entirely balanced, as it turned out that Dena picked up the rules faster than any of the others and both my mothe and Miriam struggled with basic visual coordination throughout.

I rushed ahead of everyone else to make up for being alone, so they all shot me in the back as they chased after me. After getting the second flag I stopped for repairs, which was possibly a mistake because it prevented me from catching up. My mother got more coordinated over the course of the game, but it's hard to say if Miriam was even trying. Her movements seemed to be entirely random and counterproductive. My father started out strong, getting the first flag right away, but then he stubbornly decided to try the same dangerous route to the third flag (Dena got to the second flag on the second turn.) over and over, each time falling of the board. When my mother accidentally bumped into him, pushing him off the board yet again instead of letting him win, he cursed and he pounded the table and it was a litle bit scary but I was so happy to see it. He wasn't just my father, he was that little robot who just wanted to make it to the finish line. He lost all three of his lives, and Dena hit the third flag giving them the win.

We finished Robo Rally exactly four hours after starting Clue: The Great Museum Caper, and I felt like I had a real honest-to-God family with relationships and everything. I always wanted for my family to experience the same things I've experienced, but I was wrong. Experiences are personal and subjective and they're not like me. But in the right social situation, those differences can drive some really compelling interactions. On that Robo Rally board, with my father furious at my mother for knocking into him and me trying to stay ahead of everyone and my mother trying to keep up while pretending not to care and Miriam being ridiculous and Dena moving forward steadily unnoticed, I felt like we were a real family. For a few hours, we existed in the same virtual space. And in those few hours, I felt like I got to know them better than in years of living with them. We can be a family, after all; we're just a bit out of practice.


three comments, the last one being from Moshe
Moshe said:

Sorry for once again being late, how ever, many happy returns.

I do think that it was an excellent idea to use more physical interaction games, than virtual ones, (a nice compromise) to bridge the world you live in with ours. :)

pleased that everyone enjoyed them selves, so do try something like this in the future.

Tamir said on March 10th:

About yesterday - I'd like you to know that I got exactly what I wanted, which was a window into your world. I enjoyed myself greatly, and Zelda has been swimming through my head all day. Don't be too surprised if I come back for more. (Just gotta figure out how to make time for it...)

In any case - thank you.

Moshe said:

links Mory Links!
You need to put a time stamp so we know which comment is related to which "performance review", its getting a little confusing.

09 March 2011:
Its great to hear that you've got the last bit trip game, I know how long you've been waiting for it.

10 March 2011:

you could ask someone more skilled in ether the piano or in voice for assistance.

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2011, February 7th, 20:58 and 41 seconds

Sequential Motion Pictures

I recently made a new character -an explorer, who'd have the right kind of passion to stick with Angles & Circles through whatever hardships it dictated. One of this character's quirks is that he loves movies almost as much as he loves exploration games. So I've been downloading lots of movies which I've always been curious about but have never seen. The danger, of course, is that movies are a very passive activity. Once you start believing that a world will go on whether or not you move a muscle, it's easy to fall into a dead calm and never get out again. So I anticipated that I'd continually need the blog to remind me of who I was and why. But on the day I defined this character, I reread assorted blog posts and didn't see where I could go next. So on the following day, I had no urgent need to keep the blog in mind. Movies floated to the top, Angles & Circles didn't stand out, and as I explored and drew I had to suppress a sense of hopelessness, of existing in nonexistent space. I felt alone, and insignificant, and before exhaustedly collapsing into bed I concluded that I'd bitten off more than I could chew with this character.

I woke up in the middle of the night from a particularly strange dream. It was not an unpleasant dream; I woke up because I decided (while dreaming) that I needed to be conscious enough for a revelation about my place in the world. That is precisely how conscious I was. The revelation was that it was my duty to make a blog post depicting the dream I was having. Once I had given myself this important message, I fell asleep again. I have no recollection of what the dream was that I was supposed to write about. But in the days that followed, the sense of purpose I had felt remained. It was my duty to make worlds that people could get lost in, as I'd been lost in that dream. Because it's good to be lost every now and then. In the light of a movie projector, you know exactly where you are and there's no need to move on. But in the dark, you feel around and find your way.


When I woke up that morning, the song "Singin' in the Rain" was stuck in my head. I ran to my computer, wrote in my opening statement, and started to watch the movie I'd downloaded on a whim a few days earlier and had not thought of since. I had no idea where I was going, but I was happy again.

There are some things which are called "classic" just because they're old. The 1952 musical Singin' in the Rain is not one of them. It's a passionate love letter to Hollywood. Though, it was made in Hollywood, so I guess it's Hollywood's passionate love letter to itself. I can respect that. The film exists to propagate a belief in the magic of Hollywood, where life is simple and true love is real and song-and-dance numbers are the preferred method of communication. This Hollywood can't exist, but for the viewers of a good old-fashioned musical like Singin' in the Rain it somehow does exist, and that reassures. When I finished watching the movie I wanted to dance, and it barely mattered that I've never done any real dancing and am probably way too clumsy for it. In the movies, everyone can dance. So why not I?

Under the screenplay credit in the film's opening, is written: "Suggested by the song". Interestingly, that song was 23 years old when the movie was released. (Here's the original version, and here's the remake.) The other songs weren't much newer - they were all taken from other MGM movies from around the 1930s. Our modern views of anything from 60 years ago are so tinged with nostalgia, that it's easy to forget this was meant to be a nostalgic experience even then. It encourages the audience to see their familiar, popular entertainments as a kind of miracle. It took songs which everyone already knew, repackaged them into a mostly conventional plot, and tried to convince the audience that when they indulged in these happy clichés they were witnessing something incredible. No, that's not fair to say - it doesn't try. It does convince the audience. It convinced me. Part of that is Gene Kelly's dancing. And part of it is the way the three heroes are so naïvely passionate about what they're doing, in defiance of any elitists who might scoff "That's not art!".

But there's also a particularly subtle bit of sleight-of-hand going on in the script. You see, Singin' in the Rain pretends to demystify Hollywood. The beginning of the movie does not take place in anything approximating the real world -if it did, the rest of the movie wouldn't work- but there's an acknowledgment of Hollywood's essential phoniness. The setting is 1920s-era Hollywood, which is shown to be glamorous and larger than life. We see actors arriving to a film premiere, smiling cheerfully for the cameras. The personas these actors present are fabrications, their wonderful lives a performance for the gossip papers. We meet an actress who is adored by all, except for everyone who knows her. And we meet a respected actor, who lies about his past in order to seem sophisticated. "Ah!", the viewer says, "Here is a movie about the true face of Hollywood!". We are shown that movies are silly things where actors stand in contrived poses and act however love-story formula dictates.

And then the movie suggests that it's only silent film that's like that, and when sound was added suddenly we were seeing things the way they really were. The romance between the two actors at the start was fake, but the romance with this other actress is totally real! Holding a dramatic pose is ridiculous, but doing a tap dance is perfectly natural! The movie can convince us of these strange ideas, because the script has been carefully calculated to get us onto the movie's side. We've already decided that we are witnessing the real film industry, so when it starts rebuilding the Hollywood fantasy, we've already let our guard down too much to question it. The big love song is set on an empty movie set, with a large fan simulating wind around a dirty ladder, and they're singing a 1930s love song at each other, and for a minute I jumped between thinking things like "You can see that this is real love, not like with the other actress!" and wondering "If this is an empty set, then where's the orchestration coming from?". I realized that I'd lost sight of what was real and what was not, and I shooed away that thought because I wanted to believe. In the movie, we see people who through nothing more than passion for their medium and their friends are able to make magic. That's a world worth believing in.

In the real world passion gets you nowhere without unbelievable amounts of hard work. The film's female lead, Debbie Reynolds, once said: "Singin' in the Rain and childbirth were the two hardest things I ever had to do in my life.". And for all the comedy the movie gets out of Reynolds' character dubbing over another actress's singing, it's ironic that some of Reynolds' songs were dubbed over for the movie by a more experienced singer! In the real world, nothing and no one can ever be perfect enough. But in a movie, everything can be just so.

There's a cute little moment in the movie where we see people in the business reacting to their first glimpse of a "talkie": "It's just a toy!", "It's vulgar.", "It'll never amount to a thing.". Later in the movie, the first sound film is a success and it makes everything they're doing look like a relic of an earlier time. But in that moment, the filmmakers are oblivious. This scene comes shortly after a conversation in which film is argued to be inferior to live theater. I find that interesting. I also find it interesting that just a few months after Singin' in the Rain in 1952, Hollywood made its first color 3D film. The general public is not loyal to one format over another. If an entertainment is successful, it is because it gives its audience an experience they value. If a stronger experience elsewhere can get them what they're looking for, they will move on.
There are a lot of production companies for amateur English-speaking theater in the Jerusalem area. There are musicals and dramas and comedies and Shakespeare and childish religious shows and everything in between. And this is odd, because there's not that much demand for amateur English-speaking theater in the Jerusalem area. The production companies were (and continue to be) founded by people who love theater. And people like me join their productions because we love theater. As long as people like us live in the Jerusalem area, we'll be putting on shows. The audience is not a huge part of the equation.

What do we have to offer audiences, anyway? For free they can download stories off the internet, whose every moment was carefully calculated and precisely timed. On a film budget you can create whole worlds, and inhabit them with famous and world-class actors. We cannot compete with that. Our shows are more chaotic, more awkward, less immersive, less skilled. And we're charging as much as a hundred shekels per seat. Why would people bother coming to the theater?

The simple answer is that in many cases, they aren't. Some of these production companies just put on obscure plays in cheap venues, reusing props and costumes and whole sets to keep to a tiny budget. They could try to put more effort into advertising, but there's not much point. The audience isn't there. The actors' families and friends show up, some people who were curious and have time to kill show up, and hopefully enough money comes in to keep going for another day. These shows are being put on because their directors want to put them on, and people volunteer to be part of it because they want to be part of it. Some companies actually charge their actors for the privilege of participating, and people still work with them. It's just too much fun to turn down.

The production company of my last show only does productions that people will come to. Mainly Gilbert & Sullivan, but also Rodgers & Hammerstein and other musicals that people will have nostalgia for from having seen the movie adaptations. This company gets bigger audiences than the others, and therefore has bigger budgets to work with and a more expensive stage to act on. They can charge more, and get away with it because from the audience's perspective it's practically professional. They charged a hundred shekels a ticket for our show, plus five shekels if you wanted the programme. (So even though I was the lead, most of the people who saw my performance don't know my name.) The theater we were in doesn't have enough dressing rooms, and it's in a location with no parking nearby. (If you park on the same street, you come back from the show to find a different kind of ticket waiting.) And understand: this is what you can afford when you only do shows with guaranteed audiences. See, people already have passive entertainments in their lives. They don't need us.

So many people who couldn't be bothered to come have asked me for a DVD of the show. There will be a DVD, soon enough, and of a good performance. But my gut reaction is to be annoyed at them, because they should have seen me in the intended context. Then again, why? What's so great about theater? If they had come, they might have seen us on a bad day! And if they missed a line, that's too bad because the play just keeps moving on. The sound couldn't be perfect, because there are so many variables in a live performance. But at home they can just rewind and listen again. Let's be honest: if I could see plays on my computer screen instead of sitting in a theater, I'd probably do that too. Why would anyone want to see a work that's still in the process of growing? When it's already found its way and isn't so flawed anymore, and when you can see it without having the whole day revolve around it, then it'll be ready to be watched.

A happy story
A difficult plan

At some point years from now I'll make the game Through the Wind, a platformer mimicking dance. The player's avatar will be very vague in its appearance, so that he can more easily pretend it's him. If he is not particularly skilled, the controls themselves will subtly stretch as he plays so that he may experience the expressiveness of movement. But if he does have some competency with a controller, the game will expect him to discover the expressiveness himself. And a player dedicated to the art will practice more complex motions, to evoke emotions for an audience in the room, watching him play. Three methods of communication, all relying on a control scheme which I've long since planned out in the broad strokes. A player may switch between modes at any moment, exploring the possibilities available to him.
Through the Wind is an ambitious game which I'm not qualified to make. The entire experience is built on the sensation of moving a body through space, and I have minimal control over my own body. I am not familiar with dance even as an audience, but to make this game I would need to intimately understand how it feels to dance, from personal experience. I am the wrong person for the job, and following the philosophy I've been cultivating on this blog that means I will need to become the right person for the job. The character I will play will be a dancer, obsessed for several years with improving himself at ballet. The more I think about the details of this plan, the more I am intimidated and want to never make Through the Wind. But in the end the details will fade away and all that will be remembered is a charming little story.

Of the handful of times I've gone to a movie theater over the past year, almost all involved 3D glasses. So the way I see it right now, Avatar permanently changed the medium. 3D used to be a novelty, and now it's an expected part of the movie-going experience. A recent trailer for the movie Thor advertised: "In 3D! (and 2D in select theaters)", as though a flat image is now the novelty. It seems the only movies considered unsuitable for the third dimension are low-budget dramas. But I hope that changes soon. Dramas should be in 3D too.

The last movie I saw in theaters was Tron: Legacy, on (what I later found out was) the very last evening it was showing in local theaters. I took Moshe with me, who had never seen a 3D movie before. He did not like the effect. He said that throughout the movie, he had trouble focusing his eyes. And I can see why he might have had a problem. The format and presentation was far from perfect. The image is dark and seems to have very jerky movement, the exit sign in the room adds a slight glare that bounces off the glasses, and neither the glasses nor the screen are ever perfectly clean. These weaknesses were exacerbated by the way this movie was photographed, with very quickly panning cameras in all the establishing shots. In 3D (both because of this particular technology, and because of a general principle), it takes a little bit longer to process the images in your mind. So establishing shots need to take their time. But these are nitpicks, which can be corrected with practice. Occasionally there were images that took their time, and they were just a pleasure to see. When the camera stands still, everything you're seeing takes on an air of realness, that was certainly beneficial in a movie set almost entirely in a virtual world.

I went to that movie expecting a spectacle. Nothing more, nothing less. I expected to see the world of the 1982 Tron, fleshed out with modern techniques and presented in 3D. If it were not in 3D, I would not have cared much about this movie. At most, I would have downloaded it to my computer a year or two after the fact. But when it's in 3D, it's an event. It's a trip to another world. The movie worked better as a story than I expected, and not quite as well as a spectacle (due to the aforementioned quick camera pans). But overall, I felt I got my money's worth. It did not concern me much that the plot was clichéd, the ending was vague, some of the action scenes were confusing, and some of the characters (including the hero) were uninteresting. They weren't what I'd come for. But I was delighted to see those 3D car races, and walls made out of dots, and the view from a flying transport. Images like that are why movies matter, and while they'd be neat in 2D, in 3D they're an invitation to come in and wander around for myself. I know I can't. I know I'm not going to get that from Hollywood. But my brain is tricked into thinking I can, for two hours, and that's worth the ticket price.

3D displays are the inevitable next step, in the long road of progress that leads to the revolution. I don't know if the specific technologies used in today's theaters is going to last more than a few years more, given all the drawbacks, but once no glasses are needed and all the kinks are worked out I expect for 2D to seem hopelessly quaint. Our computer and TV screens will be 3D, our cellphones (hopefully with video chat standardized, finally) will be 3D, every major street will have 3D advertisements jumping out at us. When that day comes, Hollywood is going to need to adapt. Everything they do will need to be in 3D, or it'll feel fake.

A few decades after that, I expect the movie-theater culture to start dying out. Because once we start seeing reality in virtual worlds, we're going to expect them to behave like reality. No more of this staged nonsense. Why should I spend an hour on the bus going to an imitation of the old theatrical venues, when I can stay at home and get a more personal experience on a videogame console? Why should anyone go on a date to a dark room where they sit quietly and passively accept whatever's fed to them, when they could instead travel to a virtual world together -in private- and go wherever they want? Why should kids be encouraged to simply accept the worlds they see, instead of being given environments where they can make their own worlds?

For now, I'm satisfied with watching a virtual world passively, because I don't expect much forward thinking from the entertainment industries. But in the back of my mind as I watch, there's always the dream that it's going to be more personal. I'm going to be able to walk around and find my own way through the maze. I'm going to be able to feel the walls, and control the cars, and be the character and choose the ending. This can all already be done, so I know Hollywood is behind the times. But no one's moving forward, yet.
The first time I saw 2001: A Space Odyssey, I had no clue what to make of the plot. But I adored the experience of watching it. Kubrick's direction is such that when I saw the empty world at the beginning of the movie, with the precursors to man doing nothing in particular, I felt like I was there at the dawn of man. And when it showed a spaceship moving through space to the sound of the Blue Danube Waltz, I felt like in some small way I understood the vastness and emptiness of space. And when the hallucinogenic part of the movie started, I just accepted it without asking questions. It was like a concert, but made of places rather than sounds. The characters, the plot, that was all irrelevant to me. It was already one of the best movies I'd ever seen, just because of what it was showing me. After reading articles on the internet I feel like I have a slightly better understanding of the plot, but I'd be lying if I said that's what I'm thinking about as I'm watching. I'm just watching, and enjoying watching.

Avatar was a great movie, because it existed to let James Cameron show us Pandora and Pandora is a great world. But I can only imagine how great it'd be if it hadn't tried to tell a story. I don't mind the story, taken on its own. It's predictable and derivative, but it was done well enough. But it had no business being there. It damages the purity of this journey to another world to have it follow a plot and characters. I wish James Cameron had just made a "nature documentary" giving a tour of Pandora, with no plot whatsoever, showing us all the things cool enough to come to the theater for. No one would have come to see it, because people still think the point of a movie has to be a story. But in Avatar the point really wasn't the story, so it would have been a purer experience.

Nowadays, it's perfectly possible to watch every episode of a TV show, for free. (In America, it's sometimes even legal!) So TV writers tend to expect that you've seen every episode, in a way that they'd never have gotten away with a few decades ago. Even procedurals tend to have long-running character arcs and subplots. The appeal is straightforward. When you see a standalone film, you believe it exists as you're watching, and then when it ends you snap back to reality. But if you know you'll be entering that world again soon, then it's there in the back of your mind even as you're not watching. After a while the characters just seem to be real, because you meet them regularly. The kind of continuity that is now commonplace on television allows the characters to behave closer to our expectations of them, because real people do grow and change and remember where they've been.

In theory, this serialized film format should have more potential than the one-off movies, because there's so much more you can do in three years than in two hours. But in practice, TV tends to be even more bland and unambitious than most films. Television is the lower-class film, the cheap product you churn out to make advertisers happy year after year. And while it's exactly the same medium as film, whenever it starts to act like film in its direction and scope we gasp and say "I had no idea TV could be this good!". TV shows are not taken very seriously by the people making them. Any one of those actors or writers or directors would jump ship in a heartbeat for a movie deal.

One of my favorite current TV shows is The Walking Dead, a zombie show based on a comic book of the same name. It was created by Frank Darabont, the director of The Shawshank Redemption, and the network prepared someone to replace him for the second season because they didn't expect a big shot movie director would stick around. But by all indications, Darabont has a tremendous amount of enthusiasm for what he's doing and doesn't plan on leaving, so the other producer left for another show. I'm not normally a fan of zombie stories, but it's just really really good. The directing, the acting, the production values and everything else are much better than you'd expect from a TV show. As a result, the show's ratings are the highest ever for cable. I expect what other networks will learn from this is that horror shows sell, which is a shame, because the lesson is actually that people are starved for serialized stories that don't act like second-class citizens of Hollywood.

Seeing Toy Story 3 in 3D was probably the most powerful experience I've ever had in a movie theater. And it's about a bunch of dolls in a day care center, which just goes to show -like I always say- there's no premise that can't become a great story in the hands of the right storyteller. It's all about how you do it. And I can point to specific moments that made me laugh or cry or worry or cheer -quite a lot of them, in fact; but taken on their own it's not entirely clear how they work. These scenes were not made in isolation- they're part of the bigger picture. And in the case of Toy Story 3, even looking at the entire movie as a whole doesn't show the big picture, because the filmmakers relied on the audience having seen the movie's two predecessors as well.

The first Toy Story came out in 1995. I remember seeing it in theaters, and having my little mind blown. Our parents bought it for us on VHS (as they did with most new Disney releases), and I watched it over and over and over until every line was burned into my brain. After that I developed more of an interest in all the stuffed animals we had lying around. I imagined that not only did they all come to life when I wasn't looking (as Andy's toys did in the movie), but soon they'd let me in on their little secret and I'd talk with them all the time and eventually we'd make movies together about them playing sports against live-action sports teams who don't respect them because they're stuffed animals. (My imagination was limited.) So while I never played with Toy Story-branded toys, those characters are very much linked in my mind to my childhood feeling that playing pretend was as important as reality. (I haven't changed much.)

The third movie begins with a ridiculous action sequence featuring the toys, out of what might have been the greatest adventure serial ever, ridiculously over-the-top and childishly derivative. Not only does this remind me of what uncensored imagination was like, but it also reminds us directly of the first and second movies, by repeating catch phrases ("Ride like the wind, Bullseye!") and plot points ("I brought my dinosaur, who eats force-field dogs!") from the silly stories Andy told before. So right from the first moments the film (very deliberately) gave me two levels of nostalgia, and as soon as the scene's over it abruptly jumps to now, where most of the toys are gone and there are no more games to play. The most depressing moment (for me) was when they quickly mention in passing that the Bo Peep doll is gone, because she was a major character in the first movie and it's such an unceremonious way to write her out. The second movie had a happy, optimistic ending. So to start from this really empty existence for the toys is very dark and depressing. And it fits with what the second movie was building up: the idea that for toys, being discarded is inevitable. The film plays up Jesse's reactions a little bit more than the other toys', so that you think back to the song "When She Loved Me" and feel like you knew it was coming.

My point in all this is that the movie was playing me like a harmonica right from the first two scenes. And it never let go of me, all the way up to the last few seconds of the story. When the big emotional moments came, I had already had an hour and a half of conditioning (built upon fifteen years of memories) setting it up so that I'd be in exactly the right frame of mind for it to hit me like a bag of bricks. I can't even think of the death scene for a second without tearing up, and in the moment it happened I was so caught up in the emotions that I was certain the movie would end then and there with a black screen and all the toys were going to die. It felt real, and it felt personal, and until this movie I thought only videogames were capable of affecting me like that.

I've rewatched the movie on my computer, but it's just not the same. Toy Story 3 was a particular moment in my life, when I legitimately had no idea what to expect from moment to moment (I walked into that movie expecting some sort of third act where the toys' sentience is revealed to the world.) and the illusion of reality was maintained. Each time I rewatch it'll be less real, until eventually it'll just be a movie I like rather than a special experience. Also, I feel the 3D was very important. It gave the impression of actual toys moving on the floor (rather than images moving on the wall). And the first act had a lot of slow or static establishing shots, giving a very clear sense of the room around them. By the time they're doing the big escape scenes, you're already aware of the day care center's layout, and you believe the toys are actually there in physical space so you're on the edge of your seat. There is no point in the movie where the director reminds you "This is a 3D movie.", which means that in your head, it's not. It's just real, and you don't question it.

It's hard to believe the Nintendo 3DS is coming out this month. An actual glasses-free 3D game system, that I can carry around with me. It's going to be priced $250, which is $70 more than I expected. But still- that's a price that within a year or two I could probably save up enough to pay.

There are all sorts of really promising games lined up for it (including a new Paper Mario!), but honestly the thing that excites me most is The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you know how much that 1998 game means to me. I got a Nintendo 64 from my grandfather just so that I'd be able to play the original version, which I finished doing a month ago. But now they're remaking it, in 3D. The gameplay all looks to be relatively unchanged except for the control scheme (and having a constant map on the bottom screen -I'm concerned about how that'll change the opening), but the graphics have all been redone in 3D. I can wander around Hyrule, for real this time. I'm not expecting much in the way of originality from any of the launch games, but a more convincing version of Hyrule is worth $250 to me.

You probably think I'm being ridiculous. Why would I spend so much money on something that's just a slightly enhanced version of what I already have? But I don't really have it yet. I've shown Ocarina of Time to so many people now, in so many formats, and still I haven't seen a single person's face light up with the revelation that there are other worlds to exist in. Some find it entertaining, some get bored, but no one has the moment I had. Through its skillful manipulations, it made me believe that Hyrule was real and I, not a mere character but I myself, was on an epic journey through it. If I can hand the game to one person someday who is trapped in reality, who sees this little vision of another world as real as any, and in so doing free that person from her own preconceptions, then it will have been worth all the money in the world.

A film, once shipped to the theaters, is fixed in place. This is the strength and the weakness of the cinematic medium. Every detail, every quirk, every mistake is immortalized. Images and sounds and sequences get burned into our heads as the only way the story could possibly go, which gives the work the impression (especially after many viewings) of being definitive. And yet, the work is inherently dead, because it can never grow after the last edit. A later filmmaker sensing potential and opportunity may create a remake, or a sequel, or a spin-off, but this will be frowned upon by those who love the original. Film is not supposed to keep going. You put all the pieces together just so, and then you put it on the wall and keep it there forever. Film is taxidermy.


Every time I start watching a movie, when the studio logo comes up I'm filled with excitement and anticipation. I am about to witness something which is one of a kind. Every moment was slaved over for years, to present this unchanging rectangular area in which I should receive an uninterrupted stream of entertainment. As I watch, nothing exists except for the world which is being presented to me. The real world doesn't exist. The screen doesn't exist. The rest of the audience doesn't exist. I don't exist; I am simply a disembodied consciousness, silently watching. When the end credits roll and the lights turn on, I may smile but I'm disappointed. I have now seen the movie, and all potentials are now closed off. The movie is exposed for the simple sequence of images it was, the accompanying experience being a trick of the light. I may watch the movie again someday, but there is nothing more to discover.


2011, February 2nd, 12:39 and 20 seconds

Performance reviews for February 2011


Monday, November 4, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...".

2011, January 20th, 23:00 and 11 seconds

Portrait of a Shape-Shifter

Today marks six years since I began this blog.But I'm not sure if that's true.I'm not sure this is the same blog.
Its style has changed.Its location has changed.Its author has changed.
Hours and years for a single page.A never-ending vertical worldmaking your browser cry.
The posts are interconnected.You'd only see all the patterns...You'd only see all the contradictions.
I didn't actually expect you.Feel free to wander.Find a little corner here you can own.
But I can get lost in my own head.Don't fall in with me.There is no map.
Six years of introspectionhave filled in the old cracks.So now I make new ones.
Don't fall in.Or do.I'd enjoy the company.

Tell me, weblog: why am I sitting here, writing this? There's nothing left to say. My plans have been shot to hell, because you don't really care about my plans, do you? I wrapped up the whole story last year. I'd been working toward that for a long time, and then I reached the end. I had a plan. I'd give you a grand finale, and then add a post:
Here ends Part II.

There will now be a three-year intermission.

Three years away from you, focused on doing things rather than thinking about things, by the end of which I'd have my life together. Everything would fit together into a neat little order, once I didn't have you picking away at the tiny little cracks and making everything worse. After those three years I would have brought you back in medias res, with an entirely new person writing. A woman, quirky and Asperger-y and fun and giving absolutely no indication of what had happened to me, and then after three posts of the readers wondering "What the hell is this?" it would turn out that without your meddling I'd gotten myself a life, and this was my new girlfriend who I'd be co-writing with. A real girlfriend, not some fictional substitute. And it would turn out that I'd already finished most of the gamism plan, and had moved on to the five games already.

But I can't do that, because you keep stopping me. Don't you see?, it's you, holding me back. I could respect myself, if there were ever a minute you weren't there to remind me of my failures. And you distract me. You say, go be an actor! Go be someone you're not! Go do something silly, so that I get a new post out of it! But I don't have a post to give you. I gave you the Ruddigore story, and now I'm right back to square one, not trying to get anywhere in particular. I haven't worked on any games in ten days, and you've got no problem with that. This is what you wanted: not progress, not hard work, but just endless storytelling. You want me to keep writing, even though I have nothing left to say. So here I am, babbling like an idiot, with a few people actually showing up these days to hear what I have to say, who are probably angry at me right now because you have me sitting here and wasting their time.


Well? Say something, damn you. Speak in that silly little robotic voice of yours and give me an order already! Why do I have to guess what'll make you better? I feel like I give, and I give, and no matter what I do it's never going to be enough for you. Tell me what you want!



Hh. What good are you? All you show me is who I've been before. But day by day I'm changing, because of you. You never let me stop. And the more you make me change, the less coherent you are. I can't just leave you like that. You know I can't leave you like that. Eventually, the whole story will need to make sense from beginning to end. I tried doing that, in I vs. I, but it wasn't enough. I only spent two and a half months on that. You deserve better.


How can I have anything to write? Tomorrow, you'll want me to be someone who disapproves of whatever I say here! Each post needs to reflect the entire narrative that's led into it. When I started a blog, I was writing about whatever random things I had on my mind. But that's not good enough anymore. You keep needing to be bigger and bigger. At first I just needed to talk, and then I needed you to make sense, and then I needed to give you momentum, and then you needed to be an epic, and eventually you'll need to be the best blog on the internet. And if I don't take the next step, then what was the point of all of it? I need to make a continuation that justifies all the build-up. I can't live up to that. I can't be the writer you need.

I'm sorry.



Well? Say something, damn you. Speak in that silly little robotic voice of yours and give me an order already! Why do I have to guess what'll make you better? I feel like I give, and I give, and no matter what I do it's never going to be enough for you. Tell me what you want!



Hh. What good are you? All you show me is who I've been before. But day by day I'm changing, because of you. You never let me stop. And the more you make me change, the less coherent you are. I can't just leave you like that. You know I can't leave you like that. Eventually, the whole story will need to make sense from beginning to end. I tried doing that, in I vs. I, but it wasn't enough. I only spent two and a half months on that. You deserve better.
Declaration: "This blog trusts its writer."

How can I have anything to write? Tomorrow, you'll want me to be someone who disapproves of whatever I say here! Each post needs to reflect the entire narrative that's led into it. When I started a blog, I was writing about whatever random things I had on my mind. But that's not good enough anymore. You keep needing to be bigger and bigger. At first I just needed to talk, and then I needed you to make sense, and then I needed to give you momentum, and then you needed to be an epic, and eventually you'll need to be the best blog on the internet. And if I don't take the next step, then what was the point of all of it? I need to make a continuation that justifies all the build-up. I can't live up to that. I can't be the writer you need.

I'm sorry.

SpaceChem
No fatigue here
Deliberate plagiarism
With all the tedium that I've come to associate with programming, it's easy to forget that I used to find it very exciting. You come up with some zany idea, analyze it until it fits into logical patterns, and once you've gotten it right you can press a button and it starts moving on its own. Come to think of it, I'm not sure I've ever had this experience, exactly. I'm really just remembering what I thought I could do but never had the patience to find out. After all, programming isn't easy. It's all well and good to say "I'm going to make an artificial intelligence program!", or even "I'm going to make a small game!", but it always turns out to be radically more complicated than you'd expect.

I've been thinking about my early programming because that more than anything else is what the puzzle game SpaceChem reminds me of. The game is a work of genius. It creates tiny little rules to learn, and then puts more on top of that, and so on until you think you can deal with any logistical problem you're faced with. And then you discover that that's just been the warmup, and actually each level is going to have many such logistical problems interacting with each other. And once you've mastered that, a whole new layer gets added on top... and through all these jumps in scale, the game never loses sight of the basics. You're doing the same things over and over, but in much bigger contexts.

Ostensibly the game is about separating molecules, and reforming the atoms into other molecules. How this works in practice is very abstract, the general idea being creating paths of commands to follow on 10x8 grids. You have two machines running on the screen simultaneously, and you need to use them to make them into sustainable loops that will do some task over and over without messing up. (As the game progresses more variables get added in as the programs are running that need to be accounted for.)

It's a very technical game, made by a programmer for programmers. And I confess, I mess up around as often as I used to when I was a kid using Visual Basic. But I've got a different attitude now. Often I'll build big machines only to realize at the end that my approach was based entirely on faulty (and overconfident) reasoning. When that happens I delete everything I've done in the level and start over, but that's when the game gets really fun. Suddenly I've got to flip everything I think I know around, and think out of the little box I've gotten comfortable in. When I flick the switch and the machine works, it's a great feeling.
"Event fatigue" is a phrase one often hears in discussions of modern superhero comics. It is a phrase I cannot relate to. I think I understand where the sentiment is coming from, though. What is being referred to are the modern "crossover events", in which many comic books from one publisher (sometimes over a hundred issues!) tie together to form some massive storyline over the course of a few months or a year. This is the shining example of what is possible in a shared universe: the stories that result are more complex than any one writer could have come up with, because ideas bounce back and forth between literally dozens of different writers, affecting hundreds of characters. The editors often say that you don't need to buy all the comics to enjoy the crossover, and there's something to that. There's usually one central miniseries where the broad strokes of the plot can be seen, and the other writers (at least at Marvel) do try to make their subplots work even if that's all you're reading. But you are missing a lot if you don't read it all. Each month I read a majority of Marvel Comics' output, and part of the joy of reading and collecting is the way that the stories all intersect and build up a consistent and cohesive universe. The really good event tie-ins add nuances that make you see the other comics in a new and more interesting light. And often you'll feel like something hasn't been fleshed out enough, but some writer in a different series sees the opportunity and jumps at it. It's the best kind of collaboration. So to say that you can forgo anything you're not already interested in isn't quite right.

I think the reason some people are sick of crossover events is that each issue costs four dollars. I have an advantage, in that I'm getting them all illegally. I can read every single comic without needing two jobs to pay for it all.

It's also a thrill for me because it's a hobby of mine to collect and edit these comics. So a massive crossover gives me more to play with than a bunch of standalone series (an increasingly rare breed of superhero comic). I haven't had a really difficult editing challenge since "Civil War" in 2006, and ever since I've been waiting for something of the same caliber. Marvel's doing a new event called "Fear Itself", which they're claiming wil be even larger in scope than Civil War. (Which will be quite hard considering that Civil War tied into a good 70% of their comics and radically changed the direction of their entire universe for a few years.) I have no idea what it's going to be about, but I can't wait to find out.
I enjoy taking good music, messing around with it on the piano, and seeing what comes out. I've had a lot of fun doing that with the Legend of Zelda music, over the years, and now I've been doing it with Gilbert & Sullivan. Or rather, just Arthur Sullivan. By the time I'm done, the original lyrics are no longer appropriate.

I took a really emotional love song from Ruddigore, "The Battle's Roar Is Over", and turned it to minor and made it into a jazz piece. I played it at the cast party, and even though I was mirroring the original almost note-for-note some people didn't recognize it because the sound of it was so completely different. I've also composed a happy and sweet version of a very sombre and creepy song, and I took a musical theme that Sullivan used for one verse and discarded, and made a full song out of it (No lyrics, but it sounds like it could have lyrics.) I've also got some rough ideas that play with "In Sailing O'er Life's Ocean Wide", and even though it doesn't go anywhere it's fun to play.

I've been wondering if there's anything I could do with things like this. Unlike the Zelda music, there's no copyright on Gilbert & Sullivan. I can do whatever I like with it, without fear of lawyers. (Really, all art and entertainment should be like that. But sadly, it's not.) I'm not just changing the keys and rhythms, I'm also mixing in themes from other songs (when musically appropriate) and having lots of fun with it.

This isn't the first time I've considered plagiarism as a viable medium. In a way, I've always known that that's my musical niche. Even the stuff I do that's original isn't really original. It sounds like lots of things I've heard. And I need to keep struggling to not let the sources be obvious, which has sapped some of the fun out of music for me. (When I was younger, I didn't realize how unoriginal I was and therefore didn't worry about it.) My Zelda variations are good enough, I think, that (if properly orchestrated) they could be in an actual Zelda game. That's not hubris- if you come over and give me the opportunity to play them for you, you'll see what I mean. I know I'm good with variations.

As an experiment I grabbed a non-Ruddigore song: "When I Was A Lad". I only know it because Allan Sherman did a parody of it; I don't actually have any familiarity with G&S beyond Ruddigore. With little effort I turned it into something which sounded sinister. At some point I'll have to listen to all the G&S songs and see what I come up with.
No, this is just silly. These posts don't even have anything to do with each other. This isn't adding to the continuity in any meaningful way, it's not creating any new story opportunities, it doesn't say anything that earlier posts didn't already cover. It's way too late to be writing insubstantial fluff like this. Just, just...


2011, January 7th, 14:13 and 50 seconds

Performance reviews for January 2011


three comments, the last one being anonymous
Larry Wachsman said:

Mory - You were born to do Gilbert and Sullivan!

Larry Wachsman

Blogger Kyler said:

Wow. That was an incredible blog post.

Anonymous said:

Quite a few people who saw you at Ruddigore are convinced that you have an immense and brilliant stage presence and personal charisma, would do amazingly well in the theater and associated areas. Being as I personally fell in love with you I need to leave this anonymous! But really and truly, I checked with others in the audience so it is not my blindness speaking...

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2010, December 28th, 14:00 and 19 seconds

I Am...
In which I play the part of a lead actor

Chapter 1. "I am clockwork."

Chapter 1. "I am clockwork."

I had no energy at all. I hadn't slept properly the previous night, and I had a bit of a cold. I'd spent the day so far aimlessly wandering around on the web and improvising nonsense on the piano. But it was a Sunday, so my current state of mind was of no relevance. I had to be at the Ruddigore rehearsal.

As I was leaving the house, I noticed a text message from Moshe: "I've lost my job." Ouch. He'd been in a rotten mood already, what with his birthday and all. His older sister Aviella (and her husband) had taken him bowling on Thursday (He'd tried to invite me, but I didn't hear him say it so I didn't come.), but that was the only thing he'd be getting for the occasion. He was being childishly petulant over the realization that at the age of 23, he wouldn't be getting any presents anymore. At some point, people stop acting like you're entitled to anything at all. Which I suppose you aren't.

I called Moshe to reassure him. He'd hated his job. His boss had treated him like his time and effort were worthless. I'd been telling him he should quit. And yet, he was really broken up about it. He said he missed the money. I think there was more to it than that. It wasn't his fault the company was bankrupt. That was down to mismanagement. But still, he'd been working so hard for a little bit of recognition, and then it all came crashing down like the opportunity was never there in the first place. It's one thing to fail- then you can learn and try harder. But it must be especially painful to be in a situation where you can't do anything but fail. I told him that I was going to a rehearsal, where we'd be expected to do the very difficult patter song like a bunch of mechanisms in a cuckoo clock, and that I was scared because I had no energy at all and felt a bit sick. He advised me not to make that information known. The last thing Binder wants to hear, he said, is complaining. When you're working for him, you need to be professional. I thanked him for the advice. Moshe had been in a whole bunch of Robert Binder's Gilbert & Sullivan plays, so he knew what he was talking about.

I reached Binder's house ten minutes early, so Jordan and Aviella were still there. I returned Binder's DVD of the Ruddigore cartoon, and he asked me with interest whether I liked it. "Very much.", I began, intending to then recite that the only problem was the actor who played Robin taking too many liberties with the music and the character, and further that the other cartoons on the disc were well worth watching, there was some fun stuff in there. But Binder was moving on, so I left my stated opinion at "Very much.".

I watched as Rob worked with another actress on her scene. From my modestly objective seat it seemed like Rob knew exactly what he was talking about. He understood her character well. He wanted to get every nuance perfect because he was in love with the scene as written and wanted to get it just right. "He's probably like that with me.", I privately mused, "I should trust him more.".

I asked Aviella in a whisper whether she'd spoken to Moshe yet. She said he was taking it badly. "He'll get over it.", I said, "He didn't like that job.". "You're so positive!", she said, "Looking for the good side.", and I very much wanted to tell her that that was not my intention, but I have such difficulty making myself understood sometimes and her reaction was acceptable enough that I decided not to press the matter. Before she left, Aviella asked Binder if she could go over her scene with me. I was a little bit scared: with my fever, I'd been sweating a lot more than usual. And she had told me (through Moshe, since she'd never say such a thing directly) that she was offended by the way I smell. This scene involved hugging her three times. But I got up, stood in my position, ran the scene as Binder had told me he wanted it done to the best of my ability, was awkwardly delicate in hugging her, and both Aviella and Binder were ready to move on. I asked him "Did I do it right?", and he didn't answer because he was looking at something else. After the rehearsal I called Aviella to apologize for my smell, but she didn't answer her phone.

The "Matter Trio" is one of Gilbert & Sullivan's trademark patter songs. In fact, it sounds very much like "I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major General", the more famous patter song from Pirates of Penzance. I call it the "Matter Trio" because it's got several parts where we sing "It really doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter, matter, matter...". It's ridiculously fast, and doesn't give any opportunities to take a breath, and I was really proud of already being able to adequately sing my verse in one breath, having practiced it many times on my own. But the rhythm of some of the other parts is very strange, and I'd been looking forward to finally working on it with Paul, the music director, so that he could show me how to sing it right. I expected that that part would be fun. But Paul wasn't there, so we would be working not on the music but on the stage direction. Binder's idea (which he'd told me of as a general idea the week before) was that we would be like the animatronic wooden figures moving around on an ornamental clock, shuffling around and moving our arms back and forth, occasionally posing as though we were checking if it was raining. "You have temporarily turned into robots.", he explained. And he emphasized that we needed to get all of his choreography right because it really did "matter, matter, matter".

Unfortunately, we neither understood nor were immediately capable of performing this dance. Binder was expecting us to behave like efficient little robots, but without giving us adequate time to practice each little part and without specifying the specific beats we should be doing things on. (It was "Now you bow left", not "You start the bow at the beginning of measure 147, and finish in three sixteenths.".) Which might not have seemed like a problem when he was planning it, but he sure acted like there was a problem when we did it exactly as he'd said and the timing didn't look right to him. I wrote down precise notation of every instruction he gave me, and then when I followed that notation precisely he'd tell me I was doing it wrong. And I'd say "But you said to do it on this beat!", whereupon he'd look at me with that look that says "How dare you contradict me, you childish troublemaker!" and I'd pull out the eraser. I'm sure he knew exactly what he wanted. But he's not the greatest at communicating those instructions. By the end, after all the corrections I had to make, the notes I was left with seemed entirely random, lacking any discernable pattern. And yet I was expected to instantly memorize all this, and do it on cue and on rhythm.

This choreography involved shuffling our feet, moving our arms robotically, bowing, posing, and precise equidistance between the three of us at all times. We were doing this without singing (which only I, of the three, was prepared to do), and at roughly a quarter of the actual speed, and still none of us could pull it off adequately. Binder looked calm, but I knew he was furious. We were supposed to be charming little wooden people, and instead we were... whatever the hell it was we were.

I wanted to tell him that he was wasting his time, that there was no way we could ever pull off any of what he was suggesting while also singing, because the singing in itself was so complicated that it required complete concentration! I wanted to say that even if we practiced that scene for two years, none of us would be capable of being the robots he wanted us to be. But what good would it have done to say that? I had blown away all his good will two weeks earlier on my audacity to act like I was entitled to an opinion about my character. I was not entitled to anything. He was the director, and I was only the lead actor. He'd been directing Gilbert & Sullivan plays for decades, and I had never starred in anything. I didn't need to question or experiment or practice or even to understand. I just needed to stand up and perform exactly the way Rob imagined he would do it in my place, a cog in the lovingly and meticulously crafted machine that was this production of Ruddigore.

So I didn't complain, though every instinct was telling me to. I didn't object, though all reason compelled me to. I had temporarily turned into a robot. I'd get my way eventually, as long as I stayed willing to lose my self in the meantime.

Chapter 2. "I am in control."

Chapter 2. "I am in control."

In July I turned myself into the sort of person who prefers active creation to passive enjoyment, which was quite a change. In October I finally cut down the time each day that was outright wasted on activities like internet socializing and piano improvisation. But December was going to be the real challenge. I planned to prove once and for all that I wasn't just crazy writing down what I was doing for every minute of every day and then giving myself a numerical score for it. I mean, okay, sure, I am crazy. I won't dispute that. But the blog had suggested that by separating Mory Buckman the human from Mory Buckman the character, I'd accomplish things. I could be the sort of person who tends to accomplish things by nature, if that was the character I chose to play. And finally I'd reached an opportunity to pay off that idea.

What needed to be accomplished in December was Ruddigore. The play would open on the 28th. And truth be told, I was already mostly happy with how I was performing in the run-throughs. But before I could get to the stage I'd need to go through many more rehearsals, and in each one Binder would have dozens of opportunities to replace what I'd practiced with new ideas of his own, ideas which might or might not fit in with what I was doing. And at the rehearsal I'd just do it his way, but at home I'd have to think about it and find compromises and make my own ideas based on his. It's like Erika always said when she was directing The Matchmaker: "You're the ones who are going to be on stage, not me. If things go wrong, you're the ones who are going to be seen.". So I couldn't just blindly accept directions that contradicted my interpretation of the character. I needed to be in control of my performance, and in order to do that (with five rehearsals some weeks) I needed to put absolutely everything aside except for the play. I needed to take the time to sort out all the contradictions that might arise. I needed to live and breathe this character, so that when I went on stage I wouldn't be of two minds about any moment. I'd know exactly what I needed to do, I'd do it, and then I'd judge myself accordingly.

The first day of December was roughly planned out two days in advance. I'd define a new character in my "declaration of priorities" format, thereby creating a model to imitate for the rest of the month. The order of priorities would be "Ruddigore, the blog, books, comics, TV". Simple. There was no rehearsal (on account of the Chanukkah holiday), and there would be no distractions. Just me and my character, and my character's character. And, um... his character. Yes. Simple.

I turned on my computer screen, ready to type in my opening statement ("There once was a man from Rederring"), but before I did I noticed a letter from Kyler. Kyler is the talented artist who'd done the graphics for my past two games. We'd been talking about the graphics for Gamer Mom, a naturalistic adventure game whose script I had very nearly completed. In the script I was very detailed about the sort of "acting" I wanted his versions of the characters to do ("With an embarrassed smile, because as she says the words she finds that they suddenly sound silly: "Well, I want you to play World of Warcraft. That's all." He looks at her quizzically."), but I didn't specify a particular art style or what the characters look like or where the game is set or what clothes they're wearing or anything like that. He was the one who'd be doing the drawing, so he was the one who needed to be in control of the visuals. But this attitude of mine was causing him problems. In his letter, he said he was having difficulty designing characters without any direction. So I replied with what few details I'd been thinking of, attaching photos of two women I knew who the title character looked like in my mind. I could have sat there for an hour coming up with additional visual details, but that wasn't my place. I trusted Kyler to make better decisions than I would.

This letter took 49 minutes to put together, so to keep Gamer Mom at the bottom of the list I followed with 1 hour and 3 minutes of comic books. And then of course I needed to do 1 hour and 11 minutes of Ruddigore practice, because comics were supposed to be in the middle of the list. I didn't want to leave these corrections for later, because "later" is a nebulous thing. "Later" can be too late. To have a day turn out the way I want it, I need to be asserting my control right from the start. There have been too many days where I got a little bit complacent and found myself in places I didn't want to be.

As the day went on, I found myself drifting off the perfect heading. And when I asked myself why, I discovered that I was tired. Why was I tired? I'd gotten enough sleep, I wasn't feeling sick. No matter. The bottom line was that I had two options: I could keep going and get farther off-course, or I could take a short nap and live the rest of the day correctly. Experience had taught me that only one of those options was acceptable, so without further ado I went back to bed.

Precisely 1 hour later, my mother woke me up to come light the Chanukkah candles. Groggily, I came downstairs. There were wrapped presents on the dining room table, and a big meal on the kitchen table, and by the window my parents and Dena were getting their Chanukkiot ready. None of this held any interest for me- what part of me was awake just wanted to get on with the day. I asked if I could forego the personal lighting this time, and my mother was disappointed but didn't argue. The family lit the candles, and after my father hastily mumbled "Hanerot Halalu" because he couldn't remember the tune, my family all started singing "Ma'oz Tzur". I sleepwalked over to the piano, found their key and accompanied them. This would have to be counted in the "mundane activities" for the day.

Before we ate, my mother insisted that Dena and I open our presents. She watched us excitedly as we began to unwrap them. I wasn't expecting much, and I honestly would not have felt at all bad if she'd given me nothing. The things I like and want, you can't easily buy in Israel: videogames, comic collections, DVDs of TV shows. I was not surprised to find that the first gift was some Israeli-made board game I'd never heard of which she'd picked out in a local toy store. No doubt prompted by the look of disinterest on my face, she encouraged me to open the other present as well. It was another board game I'd never heard of, which seemed less interesting than the first. I'm not the sort of person who'll say something just to make someone feel better. I did not care for these presents.

But it was better than Dena's present. Dena is 18. She is very interested in fashion: making clothes, buying clothes, watching TV shows about people making clothes. She cooks a lot, and goes out with friends while wearing lots of makeup, and in general has spent her entire life constructing a persona that other people will like, a pursuit which she's been very successful in. Her present was a dancing, singing poodle doll. I'm sure my mother had a very clear idea of how this scene was supposed to play out. It would be a perfect little family moment. Dena would take out the doll, say something along the lines of "That's so me! It's adorable, I love it!", and then we'd all sit down and have a lovely meal together. And then, I don't know, maybe we'd magically turn into a family that has anything in common, or something. But that's not what happened. Dena was offended to be given a little girls' toy. I was creeped out by its hideously-drawn face. And my father ran upstairs to get a new battery because the one it had was dead.

As I listened to my mother's repeated insistence that this was the sort of thing Dena should like ("The point is it's prancing. You like things that are cute! I thought it was adorable."), it struck me how much my mother was like Gamer Mom, not really understanding any of us but thinking she could share experiences with us anyway. It doesn't take long to read some of my blog posts, find out what makes me tick. For that matter, she could ask me anything and I'd give her an honest answer, because that's the sort of person I am. But she doesn't really care what I'm like, because she's always busy with one thing or another. And yet she tried to get me a game. She doesn't know the first thing about games. I'd love nothing more than to show her what games are like, but she's not interested. We spend all day in a house together, but I can't say anything to her because there's nothing to say that she'd legitimately be interested in (as opposed to pretending to be interested) and it would just distract her from what she's doing. But if she was acting like Gamer Mom, then maybe we were the same species after all.

We sat down to eat, and the argument kept going. Finally my father replaced the batteries on the toy, and the most hideous noise came out of its tinny little speakers as it danced on the floor. He turned it off. Dena said it wasn't appropriate, and my father backed her up but he didn't restrain himself from yelling ("It wasn't appropriate!"), and then he stormed out of the house, and this whole perfect little moment that my mother had been aiming for was totally ruined just because our behaviors and attitudes were unpredictable to her. She said she really had no time at all but she just wanted to do something nice for the family. I told her she really didn't need to do anything. We all understood she was busy. (On the previous night she'd planned to finally slow down for a few minutes, but had forgotten about her choir practice so she had to rush out of the house.) But she didn't seem to agree that she might not have tried to do everything. So I just said: "For what it's worth, I do sympathize. I know what it feels like to try to get someone something and them not liking it.". "Why would you sympathize?". "Are you kidding? How many times have I tried to get you guys interested in things? It never works.". It was an uncomfortable meal, and I needed to rush back to the things that mattered.

I started working on Ruddigore, and I felt that I needed to get out of the house. Before I left, I went to the kitchen where my mother was standing and crying. I'd calculated that if I were in her position, I'd want a hug but wouldn't get one. So I hugged her, said "That's all." and left.

I crossed the street to the amphitheater. I didn't feel like standing on the stage that day, so I paced around on the field as I sang. I was working mainly on "Away, remorse!" now. It's a song that's always been cut out of the play, ever since Gilbert and Sullivan died. And Binder was only thinking about putting it back in because act 2 was running short. But this was my chance to get control of the character, so I was taking it very seriously. Three days after learning that the song existed, I not only knew the song well but had given myself lots of gestures and movements to do as I sang and was working on more complex voice work for it. And it wasn't enough yet. It needed to be better, everything needed to be perfect when I showed my work to Rob. I had an idea in my head of how the scene would play out: I'd present my work, he'd say something like "That's so perfect for my vision of the play! I love it!", and then we'd be on the same page with the character. And then, what, would all our disagreements just suddenly disappear? Yes. Yes they would.

But the fact of the matter was, I had no idea how he'd react. I never could guess what he'd tell me next, or what he really thought of what I was doing. I'd tried to come up with a way of doing the song that was just like his style of direction, but I couldn't know if that would be enough because I didn't really understand him. Sometimes his directions seemed to contradict each other. He'd agreed with everything I said, so why did he keep pushing me in directions that were more like an angsty teenager? It didn't make any sense! And when I came up with little bits of acting that I thought were really good, he never said "I like that! Good job!". No matter how hard I tried, it would never be enough. So I had no idea how he'd react. For all I knew, he'd be furious at me for trying to do his job for him. I just wanted to make sure that I'd be able to do something nice with the performance, that's all, but no one had asked me to do what I was doing, and no one might want it.

I went back home to continue with the blog. Dena had been practicing for the Grease auditions in her room, but Miriam came home -still in her army uniform- and interrupted Dena to argue about an empty glass that she'd left by their computer, and which Miriam was choosing to get angry about for no more reason than that she missed her husband. I ignored their nonsensical yelling. They didn't matter.

I read through post after post, going all the way back to the beginning of part 3 (and some from earlier), but something was wrong. I'd planned this. I was going to read through earlier posts, think about where I was ending up, and in a moment everything would fall into place. I'd suddenly see a clear vision of the new post, which would show that it hadn't all been random, it all made sense and was leading somewhere. But that wasn't happening. I kept reading and thinking and reading. I wrote down notes to reflect the themes I was finding in earlier posts. Why wasn't it all clicking into place? I'd planned this! The past reveals the true nature of the present, that revelation dictates the future, and everything fits into a neat little character arc. But I didn't see it. I read page after page after page, repeating to myself all the while: "I don't understand.".

Chapter 3. "I am that actor!"

Chapter 3. "I am that actor!"

There was no way I'd get into Ruddigore. I understood that. I figured there were certain actors, like Aviella, who just automatically got into whatever show Binder was making because he knew them and trusted them and they had years of experience under their belts. That wasn't me. I wasn't part of the club. The only Binder production I'd been in was Oklahoma!, where I auditioned to get into the chorus, got my wish, and spent the next few months regretting it. (I didn't enjoy being an entirely inessential part of the cast.) My only significant theatrical role ever was the ridiculous double-act that Erika let me do in The Matchmaker, not exactly what a director like Binder known for his precision would be looking for. And who could I play? I'd just quit Barefoot in the Park for having too small a role, so I wasn't interested in the chorus no matter how pretty the music turned out to be. And from skimming through the list of characters on Wikipedia, it seemed like the only other part in the play I had the right kind of voice for was the male lead, Robin Oakapple. So I knew from the start I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting in.

But Erika had told me that she used to audition for plays even when there wasn't a part for her, just to get better at auditioning. So I auditioned anyway. This wasn't just a chance to show off my tune for Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky which I'd composed to audition with and hadn't had a chance to use yet. (Though, there was that.) This was also practice for a character I wanted to play at some point in the future: the confident leading man. I was going to walk into that room and be the sort of person who gets to be the lead in a play. That would be valuable experience, because someday I'd run into a play whose lead role I had a shot at and I'd want to already be an old hand at audition technique by that point.

So "Get into character, Mory.", I said to myself on the bus. "You're not a shy, quirky and inexperienced gamist with Asperger's Syndrome, you are sure of yourself. I am going to get this part. I am going to get this part. I'm the sort of person who believes that, because I've got experience and professionalism and I'm not remotely worried about this.". I wasn't worried. I didn't actually believe I had a chance, it was just an act I'd put on in this low-risk environment, and then I'd take it off and go back to my isolated little life.

I'd do everything Erika had told me to do. I'd make sure I had lots of energy before I presented myself. I'd enter the room with a confident walk, smiling as though there was no place in the world I'd rather be in that moment than that room. I'd give them firm handshakes. (Erika repeatedly emphasized the importance of a firm handshake.) I'd introduce myself briefly, do my song and thank them for the opportunity. If they asked questions, I'd answer very concisely and politely. If they gave me lines, I'd read them however they said to read them without questioning the direction for even a split second.

In the past they only knew me as an inconspicuous member of the Oklahoma! chorus, but I'd get them thinking that I was exactly the sort of actor they were looking for. "You want someone who's confident and professional and will do every random thing you say unthinkingly? Well, that's me!". Was my hair presentable enough? No, my hair was not presentable enough. So as I walked up to the building, I tried to brush it back a little with my nails. Eh, good enough. By the time I got to the third floor, I was already more or less in character. I had the confident walk down. I was smiling. I was saying to myself "There is nowhere I'd rather be at this moment than right here.". So far so good.

There were a few faces I recognized in the hall: Aviella, Jordan, Jordan's father Marc, and a few chorus regulars. Aviella I knew as Moshe's sister, and as the female lead in the only two Gilbert & Sullivan productions I'd ever seen, and as the female lead in Oklahoma!, and as the music director in the production of Beauty and the Beast that never made it to stage but got me into acting in the first place. Jordan and Marc were both in 1776, Jordan as Richard Henry Lee and Marc as Franklin. I played two characters in that production: the painter who silently painted Franklin's portrait, and the member of congress who shows up late and spends the rest of the play sleeping. So none of these people (the chorus members included) were friends of mine, exactly, but I said hello in a friendly manner. As Jordan and Marc left, Marc wished me good luck and I returned the sentiment, before reconsidering: "Actually, you don't need good luck. You've been in lots of these already.". I wasn't sure whether the scowl on his face was an indication that he'd misunderstood the compliment, or if it was the same scowl he usually wore.

The wait was long. There were a good twenty people ahead of me, and inside they were taking their time with each one. At one point we heard a booming operatic voice, and a woman sitting next to me commented "I guess I can go home now.". I knew what she meant. Some people were fit to be in a show like this, and some people just weren't. I paced around the hall, away from anyone who might pay attention, and worked on my song a bit more. There were particular gestures I wanted to make as I sang, so I practiced those movements while singing too quietly for anyone to hear. (Flailing your arms around is one thing, singing in public is another.) I did some warm-ups for my body and face, and practiced the most difficult part of the music.

Finally I was the next one in. I jumped in place for a while, to build up energy. Then I stood straight and stiffly like a shaken soda bottle waiting to be opened. I went through the checklist: clothes straight, posture controlled, smile wide, hair as neat as it would ever be. All good. So I waited for a few minutes in the small nook between the waiting hall and the audition room. And then I was called in.

There were the usual three people inside: Paul the music director, Arlene the choreographer, and Rob Binder. They'd been sitting there for hours already through one no-doubt dreadful audition after another, but you'd never have known it from their pleasant demeanor. That's because they're old pros. Well, for that audition, so was I! I walked in confidently and gave Rob and Paul firm handshakes. They started making polite chitchat, which I responded to concisely. When Paul asked if I'd be interested in chorus if they didn't have a part for me, I politely (though firmly) said no. And then Rob caught me by surprise: "Are you still making computer games?". "I recently finished my third game and now I'm working on my fourth. This one is going to be big, I mean, I think a lot of people will be interested in this who don't even necessarily have any interest in games. And I think it could totally change the way people look at this kind of game. If I can pull it off. It's a lot of work.". I privately cursed myself for that loss of control, but kept smiling blandly.

"What will you be singing?": "I will be singing my rendition of Jabberwocky. Can I have an A flat?". And so, I was off. I switched voices pretty well, I was very dramatic, I was jumping all around the room (not exactly how I'd practiced, but close enough), I had good diction, I was clear melodically, I didn't trip up on the more difficult key changes. When the fight with the Jabberwock began, I was swinging an imaginary sword around with reckless abandon. When the head was chopped off, I held a dramatic pose. In the last verse I got quiet and ominous, ended and said "Thank you.". Paul said repeatedly that it was fantastic. Arlene launched into a long tangent about someone she knew who had once recited Jabberwocky, "though not anything like that". Rob kept smiling blandly, as he does.

Rob handed me a scene from the play. He described the context: Simple farmer Robin Oakapple has been forced by a family curse to transform into a melodramatic villain. Now the portrait of his dead uncle has come to life and is deciding whether Robin has been evil enough in the past week. If he has not, he'll have to be killed. I listened eagerly to his every word, then considered the scene for around five seconds before we began. For the first time that evening I was nervous, though I was careful not to betray this fact. I hadn't practiced this. I wasn't in control of it. What if I reached a point where I just didn't know how to continue? But that point didn't come. I started playing the role naturally, with a little bit of simple fear thrown in. But then one line said "(melodramatically:)", so I jumped into a deep voice like I'd done so many times before. The dialogue was abolutely fantastic, with lots of awkward realism ("Can't I though? I like that! I did!") of the sort I enjoy. After a while I just flowed with it, and I was barely looking at the page but already acting to a certain extent, moving around and reacting to Rob and focusing mostly on the comic timing.

They thanked me for coming, and I walked out as confidently as I entered. Maybe more so, because it wasn't entirely an act anymore. Based on the strength of that audition, I gave myself 50/50 odds. I could get this part. I could actually get this part!

Chapter 4. "I am an equal."

Chapter 4. "I am an equal."

I was very proud of my hair. It was distinctive. You couldn't look at my face and mistake me for anyone else. I hadn't cut my hair since Oklahoma! in the first half of 2009. By this point I had so much curly black hair that it seemed to change the shape of my head. When I shaved, it was only on the neck and trimming the chin. I don't like beards that go down. They look accidental. My beard grew outward. I'd been growing the sideburns out for months, and they'd gotten to the point where they blended in with the rest of my hair and made my whole head look unified. Without the neat chin and mustache, I'd look like I belonged in the 1800s. Without the sideburns, I'd look like I belonged in the modern day. But with both (plus my oversized glasses), I was a man from no particular time period, not conforming to any norms of fashion.

(Most people just figured I didn't care how I looked.)

From the start I figured Binder would tell me to cut it all off. And then one day, he did.
Here is what I looked like before the haircut: pre-shearing.jpg
And here's what I looked like after the haircut: post-shearing.jpg

Over the next few days, my face got astonished reactions from everyone who knew me:
When Aviella saw me, she exclaimed "You're so handsome!" and seemed to not understand what I found so funny.
Chip (another lead actor) just passed me by without recognition. When I confronted him, he admitted: "You're right! I didn't recognize you! You look like [you might be] your brother!"
My next door neighbor Avri said "You've just lost 80% of your quirkiness!"
Miri, a girl in the chorus that I often talked to on the bus to Beit Shemesh, said it straight: "You look much better like this.".
There were a lot of "What happened?"s and "You look nice!"s.
I'm going to pretend there was some attractively distinctive woman who said "You looked so much cooler before, you shouldn't have cut it.".

For weeks afterward, each and every time I saw myself in a mirror I wondered for a split second "Who is that?" before remembering. I missed my hair. I didn't like looking like everyone else. With a unique look, I was automatically the best-looking man of my type. But when I blended in with the crowd, I felt uncomfortable going anywhere in public. "They'll think I'm boring like them!".

There is a clear hierarchy in Binder's productions. At the top is Rob. Far below are the principal actors, and at the bottom are the chorus. The chorus are pawns to be moved around the board. They themselves don't need to understand what's going on, they just need to stand where they're expected to stand at all times and not distract the audience while they're there. I was in the chorus of Binder's Oklahoma!, whose production took the first six months of 2009. That was an unhappy time. I'd very briefly been considered for the part of Jud, the villain of the story. From reading through his part in the script, it was clear to me that the character should be played sympathetically. So that's what I tried to do in the callbacks. An older, more experienced actor named Chuck did it the way it was done in the movie: one-note and hateful. He got the part, and I was put into the chorus along with around seventy other people. How I resented him.

It didn't help that I rarely saw him. Under Binder each rehearsal is clearly designated as either "principals" or "chorus". In our rehearsals we worked on moving around the stage during big crowd scenes, and the actual story was presumably being dealt with in their rehearsals. (I was so disconnected from the bigger picture that it took me months to realize I didn't like the play at all.) When rehearsals were marked as "full cast" it meant we'd be alternating: while we went over crowd scenes the principals would go off to work on their own in another room, and when Binder called them in we stood around outside and waited quietly. On those rare occasions that I was permitted to see the leads, I paid especial attention to what Chuck was doing. "Show me what you've got, Mr. Experienced Actor.". But to me he never seemed, even on stage, to be doing anything good enough to justify getting the part.

There were a few people in that chorus that I was friendly with, because I already knew them from somewhere or other, but most of the downtime I spent sitting in the corner and playing Rhythm Heaven on my Nintendo DS. I enjoy socializing one-on-one, but I'm very uncomfortable talking in crowded and noisy rooms. You can't have a meaningful conversation in that environment. When we got to the stage there were occasions when I was alone with only a handful of people at a time: getting makeup applied, or in the dressing rooms. Finally I had the chance to meet some of my castmates properly, and I took a liking to a few of them. But that was only after months of feeling isolated and insignificant.

Ruddigore was liable to become another Oklahoma!. Who was I? I was nobody. Could I really play the part well enough to justify getting it over everyone else? Of course not. They'd all hate me. Even my appearance would be offensive to them. But it was time for "audition #2". It was time to meet the rest of the class.

My "lead actor" persona had been a resounding success so far, so on my way to the first full-cast rehearsal I decided on a new character to play. I'd be "one of them". I'd be sociable though shy, as many of them no doubt viewed themselves. If I ever made reference to my role, it would only be in the context of having had a good audition -the idea being, "If you have a really good audition someday, you'll get this opportunity for yourself!". No doubt much of the cast would be retained from Oklahoma!, as many of these people join every one of Binder's productions regardless of what it is. I briefly wondered if they'd notice that my personality had "changed" and detect the act, but I dismissed that thought: none of them had paid much attention to me in Oklahoma!, so whatever first impression I made today would mix with their vague memories of my existence and they'd just assume I'd always been like this.

I came in unassumingly, warmly greeted those I recognized (like Jerry) and casually sat in the middle of the back row. I immediately began to chat with the person sitting next to me (a man named Eddy), doing my best to tune out the noise. An everyday conversation between equals, that's what it was! I looked around the room, and saw very few familiar faces. That didn't mean they hadn't all been in Oklahoma!, of course- I'm terrible at remembering faces, especially of people I don't know well. But all the same, I said hello to everyone I had any excuse to say hello to -for instance, if they sat down near me. I didn't make any mention of my part- best to let them assume I was chorus first.

I was quickly singled out as Robin Oakapple, and told to get out of the seats assigned to the chorus. I tried to emphasize the awkwardness of my step as I walked away and quietly found another chair. Segregation was just the way it worked. Aviella came in late with her usual big smile that says how ecstatic she is to see everyone, and sat on the floor by the entrance. Eventually the chorus got to a song that I was involved in: it was my solo, while they responded and then sang quietly underneath me. Paul called me to the front, to stand next to him facing the chorus as I sang. I actually did know exactly what I was doing: though we hadn't touched on that song in the principals' rehearsal, it had been a week since I'd gotten my copy of the libretto and I'd already learned most of my songs. But there was no need to be arrogant about it. So I made my best impression of a deer in headlights as I sang. I was having fun and enjoying the spotlight, but all I showed the chorus was a nervous smile that said I was awfully embarassed at all that attention. I was very conscious of all the eyes on me, and I wanted to control how they saw me.

Back to the meeting


Not everyone showed up to the rehearsal. Marc (who'd be playing Robin's dead uncle) was out of the country, for instance. But I caught my first brief glimpse of some of the others I'd be working with. Chip, for instance, would be playing my younger brother (though he's more than twice my age), and he made quite an impression. Hamming up his songs, making lots of jokey references to past G&S productions which he'd no doubt played major roles in. The whole cast seemed to love him. But under the surface, I figured, they must wish they could have what he has. I would, in their place. This Chip guy had better be good, I said to myself.

During a short break, I spoke with a very nice lady named Reisie, for no more reason than that she didn't seem to be doing anything. I told her that all it took to get in was the right attitude in the auditions. She said she had no interest in a lead role. I didn't understand. Sure, singing is nice, but didn't she wish she had more? Didn't she wish she could be "in the loop"? But apparently not. She just liked being in choruses, she said. No aspirations toward more serious acting. How strange.

When the rehearsal ended, many members of the cast came up to me and complimented me on my singing (which they'd heard little of). I imagined an implication that they'd expected nothing at all. Or rather, I hoped they were making that implication. I hoped they didn't think of me as a bigshot actor. I was one of them, I was but a pawn. One young woman introduced herself by name as though she'd like to chat, and I would very much have liked to have a conversation but there was no socially-acceptable excuse for it at that moment and by the next rehearsal I had forgotten who it was. No matter. She probably didn't really want to talk to me anyway.

There were few chorus rehearsals I was allowed to attend. Clearly I would be judged harshly for showing up at a women's rehearsal, but I was informed that even those spots on the schedule marked "men" were not referring to me. For a while my rehearsals were almost exclusively with Aviella and Jordan. Around them, I could get away with being myself. But I never believed Aviella was doing the same. Jordan would often look unhappy, or tired, or display any other signs of normal human chaos. But Aviella was always smiling. One evening she looked like she might be physically ill, and I asked "Are you OK?" hoping for some reassurance that she was, in fact, a human being. But immediately she gave me her usual wide smile and said that she was great. She was always great, she was always ecstatic to see whoever she happened to be in a room with. How could she keep that up all the time, and more importantly, why would she want to?

I know it's none of my business how someone else chooses to act. But it was frustrating when she gave me compliments, which was often. I didn't know how to react to that. I had no experience, no training, none of what she's had for years. I could see that I was messing up over and over. So what was the compliment - was it charity, or the sort of encouragement one gives to a pet, or what? I had to imagine she was playing some sort of game, and just wouldn't tell me the rules. I confronted her early on, as she gave me a ride to the central bus station, and she got serious and said that she never says things she doesn't mean. Obviously I couldn't argue with that, but I couldn't exactly believe it either. She had seen me in every production I'd ever been in. She'd seen me in The Matchmaker on my worst night. She'd seen me play thankless roles, and not particularly well. For heaven's sake, she was present for my very first audition ever (for Beauty and the Beast), which to this day is one of the moments in my life I am most embarrassed about! There's no way she could see all that and still think I was any good, not with all her experience and knowing all those great actors and singers she must have performed with! Could she?

Eventually there was a chorus rehearsal I had an excuse to be at. They'd be working on the scene where the ghosts of all Robin's ancestors come to life and criticize him for not being evil enough. And they'd be working on something else first, so I was asked to come late. I left home a half hour later than usual (the bus rides from my house in Beit Shemesh to the rehearsals in Jerusalem generally taking two hours), and arrived there just as they were wrapping up a song that I'd be singing with them in the show, and had been practicing at home, and would very much have liked to work on with the rest of them. I smiled broadly as I entered, but sat quietly and called no attention to myself. They were the stars, not me. They would be making all the lovely music and I'd just be taking the credit. I'd just be singing straightforward melodies; harmonies are harder. And they had to act in the tightest of conditions, finding personalities that would engage the audience without being given an inch to work in. I was just there to be "in the loop", so that I wouldn't walk out on stage not knowing what was going on with the play.

Binder told me to lie down in the middle of the floor. So I lied down, on my back, and he corrected me: I'd be lying face down. The floor was pretty dirty. Staging began: they stood in a semicircle around me, tiptoeing in as they sang their creepy ghost-song. Once they'd gotten that right, I could get on my knees. And then they circled around me, pointing at me and singing insults. Some people seemed to particularly enjoy this bit. I tried to stay in character by making pained looks as though every word was a slap in the face. And when they were done, we all went home. That was the last rehearsal marked "men" that I came to.

Every time I passed Jerry in the full-cast rehearsals, he would say the same thing: "You're doing a great job.". He's a friendly guy. I asked him to stop saying that.

I carefully considered each word of my biography for the programme. It was long and full of blogsy color, because there were many things it needed to achieve. I wanted to paint myself as an underdog, who beat the odds to get a lead. I wanted to make myself relatable to the audience, so that they could imagine themselves in my shoes. And I wanted to hint at a certain inoffensive degree of strangeness, encouraging the right kinds of people to come to www.thebuckmans.com and find out more for themselves. I wrote up this bio and sent it in, and weeks later Rob announced that the bios were not to exceed three lines (whatever a "line" is) in length. A woman in the chorus said she was in charge of the programme, so I sent her an e-mail requesting a sample bio so I'd know the expected length.

I was pleasantly surprised to receive as a reply not just a mock bio, but a lengthy and charmingly awkward letter around it. Since on the internet it is perfectly acceptable etiquette to reply by breaking a message into quoted sections and responding to each one, I jumped at the opportunity for a conversation. I told her that I'd been acting from the moment I walked through the door to that first rehearsal, and that I'd been trying to carefully control what they all thought of me. This went back and forth, and in her last letter she wrote the following:
I have an overactive imagination that tends to jump to the worst possible scenario and conclusion, so I really don't know if you would prefer to be left alone. Problem is, now even if you'll tell me that it's fine to go ahead and write back, I'll be left to wonder if you're playing the role of the lead actor who is really just one of the gang and would never discourage anyone from trying to talk to him...

When Beauty and the Beast fell apart, the people in charge set up a final get-together in a café in Jerusalem. I came for just one reason, which was to say goodbye to Jerry. He didn't show up, so I waited around for a while sitting with Aviella and the others. I didn't talk much, because there was no excuse to ask what I really wanted to: "Have I done a good job?". My job was to just be a part of the chorus, and I couldn't help feeling that I'd messed that up. I kept acting like I knew the music better than anyone else, I kept loudly correcting Aviella's tiny mistakes, and then I kept messing up in front of everyone. I'd found opportunities to embarrass myself where none seemed to exist. Did Aviella think I was pathetic? Did she honestly think I had a nice voice like she said, or was she just filling seats with whoever she could get? I looked at her face intently, with that inscrutable smile of hers, and I suspected I'd never get the answers I was looking for. I wasn't important enough to be told the honest truth.

I kept doing my best playing Robin Oakapple, and kept waiting for the criticisms to come. When they didn't come, I started asking people directly what they thought of my performance, but still all I'd get was a simple "You're great.". Then I started hearing compliments come second- or third-hand, including one that apparently originated with Aviella. If they gave me a compliment to my face, that was suspect. But what possible motive could there be in complimenting me behind my back? Eventually I was forced to accept that the only one imposing hierarchies of worth, and the only one inserting hidden meanings into things, and the only one doubting my abilities, was me.

Chapter 5. "I am Robin Oakapple."

Chapter 5. "I am Robin Oakapple."

In an unassuming fishing village called Rederring, there lives a woman named Rose Maybud so fair that she is declared by all to be the "queen of maidenkind". Every man nearby is in love with her, but none of them quite measure up to her standards. You see, Rose is a firm believer in the importance of etiquette:
I have learnt to test the moral worth of all who approach me. The man who bites his bread, or eats peas with a knife, I look upon as a lost creature, and he who has not acquired the proper way of entering and leaving a room is the object of my pitying horror! There are those in this village who bite their nails, dear aunt, and nearly all are wont to use their pocket combs in public places. In truth I could pursue this painful theme much further, but behold, I have said enough.
Despite her lofty expectations, Rose has set her eyes on a farmer named Robin Oakapple, and is waiting for him to make the first move (as is proper). He must be quite a fellow to merit her interest! Who is he? He is first described as one who "combines the manners of a Marquis with the morals of a Methodist", but let's see if we can find out a bit more by listening to what he says.
I sometimes think that if she wasn't quite so particular I might venture – but no, no – even then I should be unworthy of her!
Yes, I know well enough that few men are better calculated to win a woman's heart than I. I'm a fine fellow, Dick, and worthy any woman's love – happy the girl who gets me, say I.
I'm diffident, modest, and shy!
I've a bright intellectual brain – In all London city there's no one so witty – I've thought so again and again. I've a highly intelligent face – My features cannot be denied –
Wait, no, this can't be right. This sounds like an arrogant ass. Is this the same Robin Oakapple that the priestess of propriety has fallen for? I'm sure another quote or two will clear this right up:
In doubt, difficulty, and danger, I've always asked my heart what I should do, and it has never failed me.
Soho! pretty one – in my power at last, eh? Know ye not that I have those within my call who, at my lightest bidding, would immure ye in an uncomfortable dungeon?
Um, wait. What?
Ah, you've no idea what a poor opinion I have of myself, and how little I deserve it!


Robin Oakapple is, at his core, an actor. He's also an arrogant ass, but one follows from the other. He has been acting for his entire life. He was born Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd (The name is pronounced "Riven", like the game.), the heir to a bloodline of evil noblemen. One imagines he did not enjoy the Murgatroyd family outings, which might have typically consisted of a beheading and a picnic, but such was his life. His uncle, the baronet Sir Roderic Murgatroyd, was expected -as the eldest living Murgatroyd- to commit some sort of terrible crime every day. If on any day he should fail to do so, the ghosts of his ancestors would all come to life and kill him for that grave insult to their legacy. There was no opportunity to excel at this daily task, but it came with the expectation of eventual failure. This was the life that Ruthven would inherit, and all he could do was act like he could tolerate the situation.

So he ran. He faked his own death and hid in Rederring under the false name "Robin Oakapple". You might assume that for the remainder of his life he acted only as his own nature dictated, but that's not how it works. Once you have been thinking of life as an act, it is hard to ever stop acting. He did not escape his constant fear of failure; he merely replaced one character with another, whose demands were not much easier. He replaced "Ruthven Murgatroyd", the man expected to always do evil, with "Robin Oakapple", the man expected to never make a false step. So who is this man, really? No one knows, least of all himself. He is an actor, and thus all his behaviors are suspect.

It is this quality in him which appealed to Rose Maybud. She recognizes the act. She knows that he cannot possibly be as perfect and inhuman as his behavior suggests. And she recognizes in him a kindred spirit, because she too has been acting for her entire life. Who is she? She is a nobody. She has no possessions, no particular talents, and no faith in her own instincts, but she has been cast in the role of "Queen of Maidenkind" and is expected to live up to that character. The only script she can find to follow is a book of etiquette, with rules and guidelines for (hopefully) every life situation she might ever come across. She brings the book with her wheresoever she goes, and adheres to its teachings with clockwork precision.

These two souls are lost in a world of simple people, who never seem to worry too much about how they present themselves. Rose and Robin cling to their performances because they have nothing else to hold on to in their confused isolation. But the very same performances that unite these two actors make it very difficult to initiate a romance. Rose tells her aunt, Dame Hannah:
If any well-bred youth I knew, polite and gentle, neat and trim, then I would hint as much to you, and you could hint as much to him. (Referring to book:) But here it says, in plainest print: "It's most unladylike to hint." – You may not hint, you must not hint – it says you mustn't hint, in print!
Robin, meanwhile, is nowhere near as certain what to do. (He has no book to follow.) On the one hand, he is of noble blood, so really he ought to be entitled to get whatever he wants in life. On the other hand, he has forsaken his rightful title of baronet, so perhaps he does not deserve to get anything! Thus, when speaking privately with his foster brother Richard, Robin oscillates wildly back and forth between self-aggrandizement and self-loathing. The only thing he remains sure about is that to get anywhere in life, one needs to maintain an act:
If you wish in the world to advance, your merits you're bound to enhance - you must stir it and stump it, and blow your own trumpet, or trust me, you haven't a chance!
But which act? The noble baronet, or the modest farmer? Rose is so hard to please, and Robin expects that any false move made will be the end of the story. So he needs to present the absolute perfect version of himself -- whatever that is. When he finally works up the nerve to talk to her, it sounds like this:
ROBIN. Mistress Rose!
ROSE. (surprised) Master Robin!
ROB. I wished to say that – it is fine.
ROSE. It is passing fine.
ROB. But we do want rain.
ROSE. Aye, sorely! Is that all?
ROB. (sighing) That is all.
ROSE. Good day, Master Robin!
ROB. Good day, Mistress Rose!


His intentions undeclared, Rose sees no socially-acceptable excuse to refuse another man's proposal of marriage. Who is Robin Oakapple? He is a fool.

Chapter 6. "I am just like you!"

Chapter 6. "I am just like you!"

I was full of energy, even though I'd normally be fast asleep at 7:34 in the morning. And on a Friday, no less. But for today, little things like sleep schedules didn't matter. I was The Confident Actor. Tiredness? Bah! Tiredness was for lesser mortals. All I needed to do was keep up the audition character at these callbacks, and I had a shot at getting a good part in Ruddigore. So four hours before I'd normally wake up, I was getting on a bus to Jerusalem, wide of eye and smile.

I got to Binder's house early. Without missing a beat I pulled out my notepad, wrote down the time, and started writing down notes for my next blog post ("Little Social Games"). After 17 minutes of thinking and writing, I felt that the interactive dialogue I was working on had a well-defined shape. If I continued to stand outside, I would not accomplish anything more. So even though I was 13 minutes early (and it seemed more proper to enter at precisely the time I was invited), I went inside and knocked on Binder's door.

He greeted me with a warm smile. I apologized for being early, and he dismissed the sentiment as foolishness. "I guess it's better to be early than late.", I agreed. I had planned to feign interest and agreement in whatever Rob said, but as it turned out no pretension was called for. He spoke of Ruddigore with a genuine enthusiasm, and it did sound like a brilliant play. He warned me that Robin Oakapple was a very difficult character, because halfway through the play he undergoes a total transformation into an evil baronet. I asked him if he'd heard of what I'd done in The Matchmaker. When he said he hadn't, I boasted that I had played two different characters with different personalities and voices and mannerisms, and that when he said Robin was like two characters it sounded to me like a good challenge.

I don't think my acting on that morning was anything to brag about. I pretended to be perfectly fine with what I was doing, but privately I was frustrated. I was also confused, because I didn't seem to be competing with anyone. I had assumed there would be at least one other person there trying out for Robin, but only one other actor showed up and he was being considered for a different character. Paul gave me some music to see if I could do actual singing (as opposed to my Jabberwocky), and again I did a passable if unexceptional job. And then I left.

I was dreading a long weekend full of waiting, but a few hours later I received an e-mail. Terrified, I prepared myself for either eventuality. Long seconds passed as my webmail loaded. The terror did not subside until I reached the words "and would like to offer you the role of Robin Oakapple/Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd.", to which I replied that I accepted "most eagerly". The first thing I did next was run downstairs and tell my mother. The second thing I did was update my blog. The third thing I did was sit and stare at my blog, where I'd written "I got the lead role in Robert Binder's production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Ruddigore.", in disbelief. This was my life now, for the near future.

Rob was out of the country for several weeks after that. I had one rehearsal with Paul, and I went to one chorus rehearsal, and that was it for the first month of the production. At home I studied the libretto both to memorize the details of the performance, and to try to come to a deeper understanding of the character, which wasn't easy because his scenes kept contradicting themselves. By the end of the month I thought I roughly understood him in abstract terms, but I was starting to get really nervous. There weren't that many months until the play, and still I had not gotten a feel for the character. How could I?- I'd never run through a single scene of dialogue with the other actors! Between the other leads, the women's chorus and the men's chorus there were three rehearsals each week. I was not invited to them and had no idea what was being worked on. I was out of the loop, and I was afraid that when I finally came to a rehearsal I'd be far behind everyone else. So when Rob returned, I sent him a letter:
It seems from this rehearsal schedule that I am only expected once or twice per week. I'm not sure that will be enough to make up for all this lost time. Is there any chance more rehearsals might be added for the month of October?
He suggested that I come an hour early to all my rehearsals, to give us more time to work together. I was satisfied with this solution.

The very first thing I did upon meeting Rob was tell him how I saw the character. "I think he's an actor. He's putting on an act, not just in Act 2 when he's the evil baronet but right from the beginning. In Act 1 he's putting on the act of the perfect gentleman.". Rob did not disagree with what I said, but added: "The act never gets him anywhere.". "Well, of course!", I hastily agreed, "That doesn't even need to be said!". "I think it does.", he emphasized.

It was a relief to not be outright contradicted. Putting forward my interpretation right on the first rehearsal with Rob was a carefully calculated opening move. I knew of his tendency to produce plays almost exactly like other versions he'd seen (movies, other productions, soundtracks, etc.), and I fully expected him to reject my understanding of the character. After all, I wasn't basing it on any other productions. I was only relying on the source material, and coming from the assumption that the story made sense. Any apparent contradictions had to be indicative of not understanding the underlying themes well enough. I'd analyzed the text from that angle, and this was the explanation I'd found: the entire play, from start to finish, was about people acting according to arbitrary social expectations. Therefore, it was absolutely critical that the audience see Robin as a person putting on an act right from the beginning of the show, not just for the benefit of my own performance but for the coherence of the entire narrative. That's why I needed to learn Rob's opinion as soon as I saw him. Better to let him break my "theory" now, rather than get my hopes up and be devastated later.

I hadn't planned out the performance in any precision, because I didn't actually expect for it to be allowed. I thought I'd be shot down, and then Rob would tell me how he wanted it and I'd pretend I was okay with it. So my ideas were more "Robin is pretending to be the model of propriety" and less "As Robin says his second line, he suddenly stands perfectly straight and makes confident steps forward.". Which might not have seemed like a problem when I was planning it, but I started to see a problem as soon as we began to work. We went through Robin's lines page by page, I would read the lines (still undecided on how to say them) and he'd give me directions, as was his job. Unfortunately, those directions did not on any level fit with the version of the character that I'd just described (and which he'd seemed to agree to). I was very confused, but deemed it improper to voice these misgivings too strongly. I was still the newcomer, and I had not yet done anything to prove myself. It was not my place to criticize each and every direction he gave, especially not after he'd so graciously accepted my version of the big picture.

Whenever he showed me a new idea, he'd act it out himself. He seemed to be enjoying that, and he clearly had a strong idea of who Robin was. He squirmed around a lot as he spoke, he was overwhelmed with nerves and undisguised emotion. I later learned that Rob's version was inspired by certain respected actors' takes on the character (such as John Reed, who did the voice in the cartoon), but I didn't know that then. All I knew was that he was not playing Robin Oakapple as Gilbert wrote him. I'd need to reconcile these new ideas of Rob's with how I saw the character, but on my own time.

When Aviella showed up, we began working on the scenes between Robin and Rose. (No one ever doubted that she would get the female lead. She always does.) Binder had many ideas for those scenes. For instance, he gave me a handkerchief that I'd be using to nervously dab my face, after which I'd drop the handkerchief for her to pick up. Rob smiled pleasantly as he explained that we'd be reversing gender roles for comedic effect. What was I supposed to say? "No, Robin Oakapple would never in a milion years act like that."? What right did I have to act like that? I had just a few hours earlier settled on a general idea for the character, and he knew the play like the back of his hand.

So I went home, and I tried to reconcile these directions with the bigger picture of the play. But the conclusion I reached was that there was no reconciliation to be found. The character Rob showed me was not the character that he had given his permission for me to play. I agonized over how to proceed, and only one course of action seemed to make any sense at all. I knew for a fact that Binder was reverent of the source material. And I was equally certain that my take on the character was supported by the text. So I wrote a lengthy e-mail, which began:
The way we've been playing the first (on-stage) meeting of Rose and Robin is that Robin is having tremendous difficulty keeping his emotions under control. All his feelings are right on his face for the audience to see, and with the addition of the thrown handkerchief gag he is perhaps pitied by Rose. (Rob, I believe the words you used were "What a creep.") This is a funny way of doing the scene, to be sure, but the more I look over the libretto and think about what this means for the larger fabric of the play, the less I am convinced that this is what Gilbert and Sullivan were thinking of. I'd rather not get into a petty argument of the "This is what I think!"/"But this is what I think!" sort, so instead I'm going to present what I believe to be a well-reasoned argument in favor of a slightly different approach.
What followed was a step-by-step thought process leading up to my objection, which -in order to dodge the possible accusation of non-constructive criticism- was accompanied by a detailed (but not too insistent) suggestion of how we might play the scene differently:
There are all sorts of little ways that Robin and Rose could show the audience what they're feeling, without showing each other. For instance, I could run toward Aviella eagerly until she turns around, at which point I'd suddenly stand straight and say "Mistress Rose." We could react honestly and emotionally (and even exaggeratedly) to each other's statements for short moments, before quickly correcting our poses. We could break our poses entirely as soon as our backs are turned, only to resume them as soon as we face each other again. These are just random ideas, you understand; my point is not that we need to do the scene in this particular way with these particular beats, but only to suggest that it is quite doable to play the scene humorously without losing the parody of etiquette which was so clearly intended by Mr. Gilbert.
I reread the letter several times before hitting "send". In the abstract, there was no question that this was the right move. It made my case clearly and (I thought) persuasively, while avoiding many attitudes which could possibly offend Rob. But I knew that his behavior was entirely unpredictable to me. He wasn't like me. He wouldn't obsess over fitting random ideas into big logical patterns like I do. He wouldn't necessarily appreciate honest opinions. And who could know how he'd deal with criticism, even of the polite variety. For all I knew, he'd kick me out of the play for acting like I knew best!

I sent the letter to both Rob and Aviella, because my suggestions concerned her performance as well as my own and I didn't want to go over her head. (I had to weigh the possibility that either Binder or Aviella might get angry at me for speaking to another actor about her characterization, against the possibility that Aviella might get angry if I did not.) Aviella wrote back a long and friendly reply, considering and reacting to each point I raised about Rose's motivations. Rob's reply was brief and (to my mind) intimidating:
I'll be quite happy to try it your way in rehearsal tomorrow, but reserve my right as director to say "yea" or "nay".
I noted that he had not agreed or disagreed with any point I'd raised. I also read from the inclusion of the phrase "as director" that he thought I'd gone too far. He really might kick me out of the play for this. It wasn't my place to interpret or analyze, it was my place to defer to the director, who possessed both authority and experience.

I showed up to "audition #3", much more scared than at the first two. This time, I had everything to lose. Paul was there, and when he saw me he immediately said with a smile: "It's the writer of the intellectual analysis!". I refrained from shrieking and looking for a corner to hide in. Then Rob had me show him what I had in mind. I tried to recreate what I'd worked on, but as I ran through the scene I could tell that none of what I'd described in the letter was being communicated adequately in my performance. "That's fine.", Rob said, and then we moved on as though nothing had happened.

In the long hour that followed, I tried to defer to Rob's directions whenever possible. The "Confident Actor" character wouldn't contradict his director; he'd always provide reassurances that they were on the same page in all things. But in order to carry out Binder's instructions, I felt I needed to understand the ideas behind them. So I asked him many questions. After one of them, a simple request for clarification, Rob said to me simply: "You would do well to remember that I am the director.". I kept more quiet after that.

The rehearsals got worse from there. At one rehearsal no one but me and Rob showed up, Paul wasn't there, and I came (as always) an hour early. That was a very unpleasant experience (despite Rob showing me bits of the Ruddigore cartoon, which was great). That very night I asked Rob via a polite e-mail if I could stop coming early. He was brief in his reply, but I didn't detect any resentment at all.

Ruddigore was not the only source of stress in my life around then. It was November, and I was expected (by the blog) to present a clear and likable character through my actions every day. If on any day I should fail to do so, I'd be given a low score which would bring down the average for the month and make it harder to achieve the winning state of 7/10 or above. In concept, it all made sense. But in practice, I was lost. The blog offered no script to follow, only criticism. I was sure that there was some mysterious combination of activities each day that I was capable of earning a good score with, but there was never any way to know (at the beginning of the day) what that was. I tried going far from my usual behaviors, and I was judged harshly for it. And I knew that if I stuck to a routine, I'd be judged harshly for failing to entertain! Each morning I'd announce my intentions, and each evening I'd admit my failure. I didn't understand what was wrong. I was supposed to be a confident actor, playing whatever part I chose with skill and precision, and instead I was... what I was.

I moved each day from this sad routine, to rehearsals with a director who wasn't anything like me and who I couldn't possibly understand. Some of his directions were perfectly in line with what I wanted to do. Others were perfectly opposite. Sometimes he wanted me to be over-the-top in my acting, and sometimes he wanted me to act naturally, and I never knew which would be which but I felt like I was letting him down when I did the wrong one in the wrong place. I would come home exhausted, and wake up the next morning not wanting to get out of bed. Who was I today?, the blog would demand. I was a nobody. I was a fool. I was inadequate.


And I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. One night I was pacing around frantically, unable to sort my thoughts and unable to function on any level without doing so. I knew that on the course I was on, I'd soon be earning zero-point scores every single day. And I couldn't live with that idea. So I did something that the blog had warned me never to do: I turned to another person for advice. I wrote an e-mail to Aviella.
Hello. I know you aren't always comfortable talking about private things, so I'll understand if you ignore this letter. But I think you might be able to help me out. Maybe you've been where I am now.

Basically, I am miserable being in this play. It's fun hanging out with everyone, and it's fun singing, and it's fun practicing, but when it comes to the acting it's just soul-crushing, to the point where I almost wish I could quit. You saw what happened with the evil laugh. It's like that with everything. When I started working with Rob I had lots of half-formed ideas and I asked Rob if they were okay. And without fail, he'd say "We'll try it.", which told me that I could keep working on it and improving it and eventually I'd have a grasp on the character. But I'm finding that what he actually meant each and every time he said that was "You can do it for now because it's not important yet, but when we get serious you'll be doing it how John Reed did it.". So I have all these ideas about the character which I want to get across, and every single one of them is getting shot down. Because they're not how John Reed did it.

The way you write out pages about what your character's motivations are and how she feels about everyone else, I do the same sort of thing in my head. I was just starting to figure out how he felt about everything and everyone, which is a process that could take months, and then Rob tells me "No. What's going on is much more straightforward and simple than how you're thinking. Play it straightforward and simple.". And I feel like I have zero input into who this character is. You could take a video of Rob playing out each part, splice them together, and none of us would ever be needed or wanted. How am I supposed to enjoy the process, when the entire process consists of getting shot down?

Seriously, how have you done it for this long? Do you just not get too attached to the character, or do you hold off on forming any ideas until the last month of production, or what?

-Mory
On the subject of Aviella's reply I will not mince words: she addressed my problems point by point, reassured me that what I was trying to do had value, and singlehandedly saved my life in the short-term. I am a person who thrives on ideas. Aviella gave me many specific tips, but the central idea she gave me was that I shouldn't lose sight of whose performance it was. If I knew what I wanted, then I just needed to keep pushing for that regardless of what Rob told me. This little bit of encouragement was exactly what I needed.

Certainly I still felt tense around Rob. Still he never told me if he liked anything I was doing, still he was maddeningly subtle in his criticisms, still I had the sense that this little life I'd carved out for myself inside the creation process could all come tumbling down at a single word. But this was the tension of a strategy game between equals, not the tension of a pawn being moved by his king. And that made all the difference in the world. I had more than just a goal, I had what seemed to be a viable strategy to get me there. I would compromise. I would accept his directions (with whatever modifications I deemed necessary) whenever they fit into my plan, and when they did not I would do something which was similar to what he said (but actually served my purposes), so that I could not be accused of ignoring his requests. "Yes, I remember what you said! And I practiced with it, but then I had this neat idea that took what you told me and ran with it one step further.". And if he knocked that down, I'd take whatever he said next and move a step away from that, and the game would continue. I could never allow myself to be maneuvered into losing my central ideas, but I was in a position to prevent that. You see, I had the tactical advantage: I had no life, or at least, not one which couldn't be put on hold for a little while. Each move I made might take as long as an hour to calculate. I could arrange to have that much time to spare. Rob could not. So I would always stay one step ahead.

This new character would need to be focused for a sustained period of time. He would be the sort of person who saw destructive upheavals as nothing more than challenges to overcome. A person so unemotional that should everything he's built up get knocked down, he'd immediately start over in building it up again. A person who was efficient and constantly productive, a person without distractions, a person who was absolutely perfect for this job. A person who was not me.

It was fortunate that I already had the framework to support such a character. I had a wonderful tool, in the blog's daily performance reviews, which I didn't know what to do with. But here was a task big enough to justify the blog's daily criticisms! December would be my biggest challenge yet. I would prove once and for all that I wasn't just crazy trying to do Robin Oakapple properly. I mean, sure, I am crazy. But people respect the sort of crazy that gets things done. (I could respect that kind of crazy.) So maybe I wasn't as experienced or as quick-witted or even as talented as other kids, but no one would ever need to know. In December, I would live and breathe Ruddigore. I would exist within a fictional world, like I've always wanted to, and no one would stop me!

At the end of November, I received a surprising e-mail. In the interest of lengthening Act 2 (which was on the short side), Rob and Paul were considering restoring a song usually cut from the play, a mild patter song called "Away, Remorse!" in which Robin describes how evil his behavior is and then calls the audience fools for envying his position. It was absolutely perfect! The lyrics show Robin staying in character throughout, in a way which doesn't make sense if Robin isn't committed to his performances. So if I could sing that song onstage in the spirit it was written, the core ideas behind Robin Oakapple would be untouchable. In the abstract, it made sense. I just needed to put it into practice.

I obsessed over this song day and night. Within one day I'd learned all the lyrics and music by heart. By the second day I was capable of singing it consistently. And then the real work began: voice acting to bring out the confident evilness, gestures similar to the other songs to reassure Binder that this would fit into the big picture, and improving my singing to make it clear that only the confident approach could do the scene justice. This song was temporarily the most important thing in my life, and I still didn't know for sure if it would be included in our production.

Once I was mostly satisfied with it (and because December had begun) I went back to the opening scene between Robin and Rose, where Robin's other character (the Simple Farmer) is defined for the audience. The main battle there, as before, was the handkerchief gag. I'd diluted it a bit, to take out the joke without losing the prop, and Rob had countered by making it Rose's handkerchief, which Robin dabs his face with and hands back. Even if I was granted the foundation of Robin's skill at acting (courtesy of "Away, Remorse!"), there would still be the question of which character he's playing in act 1. My answer (the model of gentlemanly conduct) was certainly the easiest to reach at that point, but I couldn't know if Rob would make that logical step. Hence the handkerchief gag, and my continuing need to fight that fight. After much agonizing I came up with a new version: Robin would pick up Rose's handkerchief, try to give it back but lose his nerve, and quickly hide it behind his back so that he shouldn't break character. I practiced this over and over, because the more amusing it was the less likely Binder would be to try "fixing" it. But it never seemed quite good enough for that.

December 5th was -in my mind- the fourth audition, though I'd lost count by that point and it seemed like the audition period might continue all the way up to opening night. I'd been dreading this rehearsal for days. Everything I'd built up for months was on the line, and the outcome would be decided by a man whose behaviors were unpredictable to me. I got off the bus a few minutes early, so I walked as slowly as I had any excuse to walk to get to the rehearsal space. A car stopped next to me, and Rob said from the driver's seat: "Get in.". I got in, and as we drove a very short distance we had a pleasant chat about the Chanukkah party he'd just left. We got out of the car and walked to the elevator. We got in. It was small. The doors closed. I smiled good-naturedly. There was no one else around. I had nowhere to hide. At any moment, he'd tell me how much he disliked what I'd been doing. But he didn't. Instead, he started telling me about the history of the deleted song. And then we discussed the play's flaws: it's structured awkwardly, there are pacing problems toward the end, and it could often be clearer what's going on exactly. I wanted to point out that the story was also utterly brilliant, but given my next few moves I knew better than to contradict him about anything. Rob expressed some misgivings over whether he could adequately communicate a plot so complicated to an audience, and for a moment I privately wondered if he felt as unworthy of the task as I did. He told me to show him the song.

I'd expected Paul to be there with piano accompaniment, and possibly encouragement, but Paul wouldn't be coming. So I sang the song, as I'd practiced it. Rob gave me three small notes. And we moved on.

Aviella came, and we worked on the Rose & Robin scene. It was going fine, but I knew the handkerchief would be coming up. When it did, I interrupted. I pointed out again that Rose's aunt had said Robin had "The morals of a Marquis and the manners of a... I mean, the manners of... you know how it goes. Anyway, even if she were senile she wouldn't use those words to describe a man who picks up a lady's handkerchief, uses it on himself, and gives it back.". Rob laughed. I asked Aviella to do her part again, so that I could show what I had in mind. So we took it back to her verse, I did what I'd practiced, Rob had no problem with it, and we moved on.

We ran our other scenes. Rob had so little to correct us on that the three of us just sat around chatting for a half hour until the next actress came.

After that day, I started paying attention to little things Rob did which I'd previously been too distracted to notice. When Marc came in with a wacky idea a week before the show opened, Rob agreed to it almost immediately. One time an actor did something surprising with his scene, and Rob -while laughing quietly- looked over at me, maybe to see if I found it as funny as he did. (I did.) I started noticing that he dealt with problems with remarkable patience, like he was playing a character who couldn't be brought down by such things. And I realized that Binder might have been exactly like me the whole time, but I'd been too self-absorbed to recognize it.

I came to one dress rehearsal unprepared. I hadn't slept well, and I couldn't find the shirt I was supposed to wear, and I was too distracted to remember all the little directions I'd given myself. It was a mess. The next morning I apologized to Rob over the phone, and he dismissed the sentiment as foolishness. "If you act like that on stage,", he said to me, "I'll be very happy.". I told my mother that evidently I didn't need to worry about Rob's approval anymore. "So you can finally loosen up!", she said. "No, now I need to be harder on myself than ever, because no one else will!"

Chapter 7. "I am satisfied here."

Chapter 7. "I am satisfied here."

Interview transcript: Mordechai Buckman | December 28, 2036

Here with us today is game director Mordechai Buckman, known for light "adventure games" like Present-Self Defense and more recently the surprise hit Emma. His new game, out next month, is The Curse of Ruddygore, based on an obscure 19th-century operetta by Gilbert and Sullivan. Hello, Mordechai.

Please, call me Mory.

I think I will, it's easier to pronounce. Can you tell me a little bit about your game?

I'd love to. It's a quirky fantasy comedy about propriety and villainy, with ghosts and curses and romance and lots of fun. It revolves around a man named Robin Oakapple in an old-fashioned village, who secretly comes from a family of evildoers but tries to be the perfect gentleman. When he falls in love with a beautiful woman named Rose Maybud, he sets a chain of events into motion that lead to him being outed for who he is and forced to follow his family's tradition of despicable evil.

If you don't mind me saying so, that sounds more like a play than a game.

Well, it's inspired by the comic opera "Ruddigore" by Gilbert and Sulivan, and it's timed to coincide with the play's 150th anniversary.

I'm going to get my biases out there right at the start. I personally did not like Emma very much.

I'm sorry to hear that.

I know lots of people really love it, especially women, but I just didn't see why I should play through a game where they already knew how it was going to end in a book two hundred years ago. I felt like I wasn't in control of the story.

Well, I think the sales on that really show that people like different kinds of experiences. It doesn't always have to be about control, sometimes it's about a character who isn't in control.

So is The Curse of Ruddygore the kind of game that gives control, or takes it away?

Well, what makes it really interesting is that each of the characters follows a strict code in their behavior, but where those rules are totally arbitrary and prevent anyone from getting what they want. The player gets points for following the rules more closely.

Can I break the rules and get a more interesting story?

It's more interesting if you follow the rules, actually.

So basically, this is a game about people always being proper and bland and never getting anywhere? This sounds like Emma.

There are certain themes that speak to me. One of those is dealing with the limitations of identity. But each time I'm approaching it from a different angle.

What angle are you looking from in The Curse of Ruddygore?

...I don't understand the question.

You said that you always approach the theme of identity from a different angle. So how is this game different from Emma, or The Royal Nexus, or Flash Gordon on the Planet Mongo, or any of the countless games you've made over the past decade or so?

It's, it's different source material. Obviously it's different.

Let's talk about the source material. The original operetta Ruddigore or, The Witch's Curse was first performed on January 22nd 1887 by the British duo of Gilbert and Sullivan, and the reviews of the time were not positive. It never became as popular as other Gilbert and Sullivan musicals like The Pirates of Penzance or The Mikado.

You've done your homework.

I find it's best to be prepared. Incidentally, is this game a musical of some sort?

No, it's not.

Because that might be interesting, a musical adventure game.

It might be. But that's not what this is.

Okay. So I guess the question I need to ask is, why make a game about Ruddigore?

The simple answer is that I love the story and always have.

Ever since you acted in a production of the show, right?

Yeah. That was right before I devoted my life to adventure games. I played Robin Oakapple, and that was the only time I'd gotten a lead role. I've never acted since, because I don't want to get carried away. Acting is really fun.

I'll bet.

I just figured, adventure games are what my whole life is going to be about. That's what I decided, and I was the sort of person who, once he decides on something, he has to go through with it. So I didn't have the time to waste on acting anymore when I decided that I'd be a guy who makes adventure games. I've been perfectly fine without acting. I don't need it, it was just nice.

So you have a personal connection to Ruddigore, is what you're saying.

Yeah, but it's not just that. You're right that the opera didn't do very well when it was first made. And to make the public more okay with it, Gilbert and Sullivan made lots of edits to the show. But what they really should have done, I think, is add more songs in. People at the time only saw that... the play, the original opera was a parody of Victorian melodrama. It relied on lots of clichés from the early 19th century melodramas, and that's all that people saw in the story. They saw the surface, of these shallow characters and kinds of storylines where innocent ladies get kidnapped by sneering villains and heroes always do whatever their hearts tell them. But there was this whole level underneath that, this brilliant satire about people acting how they think they're supposed to, and people didn't see that. All the opera needed was a few more songs in act 2, to flesh out the themes better and make the story more cohesive, and everyone would have seen how brilliant it was. These are great characters who deserve to be appreciated, but Gilbert and Sullivan couldn't convey that to the audience.

How are you going to do better?

Well, we're updating it for modern gamers. The clichés from back then aren't relevant anymore, but we have other clichés which are very similar. Specifically, we're parodying the archetypes of late 20th century videogames. The entire evil Murgatroyd family, including Robin and his brother Despard, are inspired by the old Japanese role-playing games. And there's a wonderful character named Mad Margaret, who in the original was a parody of Shakespeare's Ophelia, but in our version she's based on the nonsensical characters in early adventure games. She's a real highlight of the game.

You're replacing old clichés with other old clichés.

Actually, Victorian melodrama was already passé by the time Ruddigore got to it. But that's why it works. The expectations the audience had from theatrical characters was a stand-in for their expectations from other people. That's the brilliance of it.

But people didn't appreciate this brilliance.

That's why I think it needed more going on in act 2, which we're adding in. Our version actually has more twists and turns than the original.

And you think that this will somehow be clearer than the original.

Well, look. I know if it was too ambitious for them, it's probably too ambitious for me. I have no illusions about how complicated this story is, and the difficulties in communicating it. I'm not an arrogant person, who'd say he's better than Gilbert and Sullivan.

So what are you saying?

I'm saying that there's a gap there, that I'm trying to fill. There's something there that I've always known needed to be done better, and now I have the opportunity to do that. Or at least, I can try.

So you've been waiting to fix Ruddigore for a long time

I wouldn't say "fix". The opera is brilliant. "Clarify", maybe.

Were you not able to make the story clear when you were an actor?

[chuckles] This has nothing to do with that. My acting was fine.

And yet you swore off acting, and devoted yourself to a very particular kind of game. Is that accurate to say?

Yeah.

Let's fast forward to the present. Now you have it all. Everything you wanted back then, you've achieved. You've got a big company, lots of successful games, hordes of fans. And you even get to remake Ruddigore.

... It's great. Yeah. I'm really satisfied with where I am in life now.

Why don't you tell us what it's like behind the scenes, to make these games. What's your position, and how many people do you manage?

I'm director, which means that I oversee... everything, basically. It doesn't leave much time for anything else in life, but it's worth it. I've got a team of around thirty lead writers under me who do the main writing for the games, all of which I read through and give comments on. I always need to make sure we're all on the same page in terms of where the characters are going, because you can't have a character that seems like it was written by lots of different people, even if it is. There needs to be a consistent voice. Under the lead writers there are around fifty "connection writers" as we call them, whose job is to close off the loose ends the lead writers have left in the branching paths. We've got a big art department, a big technical staff which obviously includes all the programmers. I don't know exactly how many people we have. It's a big undertaking.

That sounds very impressive.

It's necessary. If you want the game to be good enough, not like Present-Self Defense style but actually good enough by today's standards, you need to have a lot of talented people.

I actually am a huge fan of Present-Self Defense.

Oh. Thank you. But I can barely think about that game now, it seems so primitive in its technique.

It got the point across.

No it didn't.

Is that why you keep making the same kind of game, over and over? Because you don't think you got it right?

... I didn't get it right. All anyone saw in Present-Self Defense was that it was about a shape-shifting spy. I had all these big ideas, and I wasn't good enough yet to communicate any of them.

But now you are.

...

I'm confident that fans of my previous games will find that The Curse of Ruddygore represents a significant refinement of what they liked in my other games. And people who aren't fans yet, I think this is going to be good enough to change their minds.


Will we see you branch out more in your future games, now that you've perfected this formula?

"Perfected" is a strong word. Nothing I do will ever be perfect.

So you'll keep making and remaking the same game?

It's not the same game. There are certain themes that speak to me, and that the players demand.

I apologize. But you are going to keep making adventure games about repressed characters.

This is who I am. Making adventure games is who I am.

On that note, I'm sure a lot of people are curious about who you are exactly. All we know is that you release these adventure games consistently. Nothing is known about your personal life, or really anything about you these days except for the games.

There's nothing to know. I live inside the process of making adventure games. That's who I am.

Some of our readers will know that decades ago, you wrote a strange blog called "I Am Not" where you went into tiny detail about every aspect of your life. I've read some of it, and there's some good writing in there.

Thanks.

Why did you stop?

Blogging, you mean?

Why'd you stop making your life public? Why did you decide that the only side of you anyone should see is the guy who makes adventure games about repressed people in strange societies?

Look, I'm really proud of "I Am Not". I think it holds up really well as a three-part story. But the whole thing was leading up to the place where I could define who I was, and then I did. I said, "I am going to be the sort of person who makes adventure games," because that was really rewarding and I knew that I could make people happy with it and just keep going without having to change what I was doing. So I said that, and that's who I am now. There was really nowhere to take the story after that, so I stopped the blog and stopped caring about what I'd written. I'm not the same person now that I was then.

Why adventure games?

Why not? If I was going to pick a person I wanted to be, I decided I could do worse than to reinvent an unappreciated kind of game and get better at my craft with it. And then I got comfortable with that life, which is where I am now. I'm very happy with where I am now.

What about your "five games"?

Excuse me?

You said there were five games you were going to make in your life, no matter what. I've got the quote from "I Am Not" here: "I have many ideas for games I could make, but there are five in particular which are more important than the others. Most of my ideas, I won't be too broken up about if I don't get to them. But these five are absolute necessities. Whatever happens in my life, I am going to make these five games in some form."

Present-Self Defense was one of those five, and it wasn't very good. So you should count yourself lucky that I'm making what people want, instead of what twenty-year-old me thought he wanted.

I think Present-Self Defense is the best thing you've ever done. And whenever friends of mine see your new work and like it, I point them to Present-Self Defense and they're blown away.

That's kind of you to say.

Michael was a character who was repressed in a strange society, but he was in control of it. He kept changing, and he could jump into a situation and immediately take charge of the situation by just making a few strategic moves. I look at the energy in that game, and I wish I could see what the other four games you planned to make were. Is there any chance you might finish the five games?

No. No chance whatsoever. I am very happy with how my life is now. I don't want to change it. I don't want to say to the eighty writers I've got that they don't have jobs anymore because I've decided to take the art department and the programmers to a different kind of game where they won't be needed. They'd kill me. Anyway, the five-games plan was a stupid, stupid idea because you can't start out knowing what you're doing. To be worth anything at all, you need years of experience. You can't just suddenly decide "I'm going to be good at this" and make it so. The first try is always filled with flaws. It's always crap. But that's fine, because I'm the sort of person who looks at the piece of crap and says "that didn't work, so let's try it again from a different angle." And I could keep doing this, year after year, because each game might be the one that people actually get. Every day, I wake up and I tell myself: "The Curse of Ruddygore is going to be the one that does it." It could be. It really could be.

Do you mean to tell me that after Emma, which sold millions of copies, you still don't think you've done enough?

No! It's never enough. I gave them Emma, which was the best work of my career, and all anyone had to say was "oh, a Jane Austen game. How quaint." It's never enough for them! I don't care about popularity or money, I just want for once in my life to say something and have it be heard. I keep making these characters for people to play, and these stories and whole fantasy worlds, and nobody hears a thing I'm saying underneath all that. No one.

I understood what you were doing in Present-Self Defense.

No you didn't. It was a crap game, like all of the five games I wanted to make. But this one will be better. I've been living and breathing The Curse of Ruddygore. It is not an exaggeration to say that you interrogating me in this interview about things like those damn five games is the first time in months I wasn't entirely thinking about the characters of Ruddygore. That's my life now. Did you get your sound bite? Are you happy? Are you glad that you figured out who I am, now? I'm nobody. I'll never be good enough to move on to the other four games, and I don't know if I'll even get this one.

...

Yeah, great. You've had your entertainment. Watch the old man who's wasted his life. Would you like some tomatoes? I'll give you tomatoes to throw.

Chapter 8. "I am not..."

Chapter 8. "I am not..."

My adventure game-in-progress Gamer Mom is about a woman who lives in a virtual world, while her family does not. The player (as this woman) will try to engage the family's interest, but they are not looking for a new reality. They're satisfied with the existences they have, which are inadequate but familiar. They'd be perfectly comfortable (though not actually happy) staying exactly where they are for the rest of their lives. One of the tragedies of the game, for me, is that all their lives would be enrichened by the fantasy. But they are trapped, all three of them, because they won't step outside their own characters. How can they?- they've forgotten they're only acting!

In my last two years of high school, I had a crush on a girl named Maya. I knew absolutely nothing about her, except that she was one of them. The dancers moved en bloc, always gossiping together about who-knows-what. They never noticed I existed, nor did they have any reason to. But I noticed her, and it drove me crazy. There was no reason I should be interested. She was very conventionally pretty, and never demonstrated any strangeness that I could detect. And even if I ever had some socially-acceptable excuse to approach her, I would be expected to speak in Hebrew. My Hebrew was, shall we say, far from perfect. So I was always careful to not look at her for any longer than could be considered disinterested. In one English class we read a poem about masks, and Maya objected (in perfectly fluent English) that she was sure some people were exactly who they seemed to be. I said that "When you wear a mask for long enough, it becomes your face!", she said that I wasn't making any sense, and we argued for maybe thirty seconds. That was the only time I ever spoke to her. An internet search tells me that she's an actress now.

Robin Oakapple is expected -as the eldest living Murgatroyd- to commit some sort of terrible crime each day. If he doesn't, he will die. But if he does, he won't be able to live with himself. He agonizes over the situation, and tries to play every angle he can find to no avail. And then, in his desperation, a solution pops into his head. His ancestors died because at one point or another they failed to commit a terrible crime. But for as long as the family curse was in effect, failing to commit a crime was a kind of suicide, and suicide is a terrible crime. The elegance of this logic brings all the dead Murgatroyds back to life (since they should not have died in the first place), breaks the curse, allows Robin to marry Rose Maybud, and sorts out all the other unpleasant details of reality. This ending has been called an anticlimax, a contrivance, an inanity. But to one who thrives on ideas, it is reassuring. This is the way the world is supposed to work. No more than careful analysis should ever be required to escape a messy situation.

My mother's parents came to Israel for Miriam's wedding. My grandmother is someone who loves to act and has never stopped doing so. I avoided them. At the dinner table one night, my grandmother told me that she'd once -decades since- been in the chorus of a production of Ruddigore. She said that the only thing she remembered was that the female lead sang a song that went (and she sang:) "It's contrary to etiquette.". I knew exactly what she was doing. She thought that if she could make me think she was like me, I'd be more receptive to receiving generous gifts I hadn't done anything to earn, which would then make me feel indebted to her so that she could believe we had a connection. I didn't fall into her trap. "That's not how [the music] goes.", I bluntly corrected her, "But yes.". I understood; therefore I was in control.

I stared at the incomplete script for Gamer Mom. I didn't understand. This was all supposed to work, it was all supposed to make sense to me. So why couldn't I figure out how this branch of the game needed to continue? I looked at other branches that were similar: maybe I could tie them together? No, there were slight differences that would make that impossible. I tried to think of ideas for new buttons, but none came to mind. I tried to imagine myself in the mother's situation: how would I deal with it? I had no idea. I didn't understand. And maybe I couldn't understand. Who was I? I was a nobody. What made me think I'd be capable of inventing an entire new language of storytelling? Even if I took years, I'd still be stuck at this branch, not knowing what to write next. I politely told that part of my brain to shut up.

I wandered around the outskirts of the field, practicing my character in the cold. I wanted to be on the amphitheater's stage, but there were two Ethiopian kids sitting there and I didn't want to know what they thought of a guy speaking in funny voices and gesturing melodramatically. (It was for the same reason that I was wandering around outside rather than standing in our heated living room.) I was working on the evil character that Robin Oakapple would be playing, because I wasn't happy with how I'd been doing any of those lines. The audience needs to get the impression that Robin is taking his role seriously, that he's following a ridiculous arbitrary script and choosing to wholeheartedly believe in it for no more reason than that it's expected of him. That wasn't coming across yet, because my deep-voiced villain was not as convincing as an actor like Robin would demand of himself. So I kept saying "I'm not as bad a bart as all thart!" and "Soho, pretty one! In my power at last, eh?" and "I am foiled again!", over and over and over. After an hour of this my delivery wasn't perfect, but some of it was passable. I got a call on my cell phone from Moshe, who wanted to know if he could come over. On the one hand, my character wouldn't appreciate the distraction. On the other hand, I'd like the company. So I told him to come. By the time he arrived, I had already retreated to my house. I pulled out the two board games my mother had bought me for Chanukkah, and we started playing. We only stopped playing two hours later because he had to leave. The progression of the day didn't neatly fit into my grand narrative. And yet, it felt right.

I put aside the character I was playing, for one day with the family. No blog, no Ruddigore, just the willing delusion that we might be able to share an experience for once. On the way to Jerusalem, the car felt small and crowded. I couldn't escape now, and there was nothing I could possibly say to any of them that wouldn't mess the day up. They didn't want to hear from me, and I didn't enjoy hearing them. Certainly the more we interacted, the more we'd find out that we were completely different people and thus incompatible with each other. But I kept my mouth shut. We went to the botanical garden, and to Miriam's apartment, and then to a restaurant. Through it all, I put my perfectly reasonable expectations aside, because I chose to believe instead in the fiction. It was a lovely day.

I really didn't think it was humanly possible to sing the Matter Trio and do Rob's clockwork dance at the same time. I expected that all three of us would fail spectacularly. So I planned ahead, and decided that the first to fail would not be me. I was the newcomer. If I failed his dance, or expressed any misgivings at all about its feasibility, he might get angry at me for not being good enough. And then he'd just get more stubborn about the dance and I'd be stuck in an impossible situation. But the two others in this dance, Rob knew well. He'd worked with them many times. If both of them messed up he'd have to realize the problem was his unrealistic choreography, and cut back on the complexity. And they would mess up, just as surely as I would. It wasn't humanly possible. So my strategy was to stay one step ahead of them, and legitimately do my best effort as though it weren't hopeless, and as though I'd never doubted Rob's vision. So I temporarily deluded myself (as all actors do) into believing I could do the dance. I then proceeded (staying in character) by spending hours trying to pull it off. But then something surprising happened: I pulled it off. My colleagues caught up soon afterward. And at last we were not only able to sing the Matter Trio as robots (at the actual speed), but we were able to do that and then come back for three encores, as Rob had planned. I was thankful I hadn't opened my mouth to complain back at the beginning, because I'd been entirely wrong. Right from the start, I should have put my expectations aside and believed in the fiction.

The last activity in our family-outing day was where the illusion of a simple family could all fall apart. I'd been going on about the movie Tangled ever since I first heard that Glen Keane was making a Rapunzel movie with Rococo-inspired computer graphics. Years later I found out that it was a musical from Alan Menken, and my expectations went through the roof. And finally, I'd learned that it was showing in 3D. (I love 3D because it reassures me that the fantasy is real.) So I'd been telling my family for months that this was something they might care about. What if the movie wasn't good enough? In the restaurant I warned Miriam that just the backgrounds, not the characters, were inspired by her favorite painting (The Swing), and I warned my father that he might not like it at all. "Do you think I only like manly things?" - "Yes.", I admitted. So we went, and while I loved the movie thoroughly (The character of Rapunzel, devoted to her selfish pretend-mother, got me thinking about what my mother must have been like as a kid.), it wasn't perfect. The backgrounds were never shown off enough, the music wasn't catchy, the 3D effect was harmed by the dirtiness of the theater's screen, and the ending was so Disney that it descended into self-parody. But when we left the theater, we were all smiling. It's safe to say my father's smile wasn't genuine, and Miriam expressed disappointment with the imagery, but they weren't angry at me. It was nice.

Ideas are simple; people are not. This doesn't mean that ideas are inadequate, only that different ideas are needed at different times. I wanted to fill my whole life with the idea that I am different, that I will avoid playing other people's games so that my behaviors can never be questioned. There are times when that is a useful attitude, and other times when it is self-defeating. The world represses and imposes and I will not stand for that. I will control my own story. But I also need allies, and friends. People like Kyler. People like Aviella. People like Rob. People with passion that is not faked. I should be aware of my character, but I must never be trapped by it. There's always another character I can jump into. Sometimes such changes are required with just a moment's notice. It is not easy to keep transforming. But if I stick with a character even as I see it does not serve me, then I have nothing to blame for my failure but my own foolishness.

"I am clockwork.". "I am an equal.". "I am just like you!". As I say these things, I believe in them, because a statement without belief is a statement without power. It therefore falls to my blog, my personal Book of Etiquette, to remind me. "I am not...". I am not Robin Oakapple. I am not trapped inside Ruddigore. I am not satisfied here, and I never will be.

I will keep planning, and calculating, and analyzing. I will keep taking the tiny fragments of reality that are available to me, and trying to sort them into an order that makes sense to my abstract mind. But the plans and the calculations and the order that I find are not absolute. I must believe in them as though they are, but then there will be moments and days and whole months where my ideas are inadequate. At those times, I'll immediately reach for a replacement and the blog will say to me "We'll try it.". If it's an idea with a solid rational basis in my emotions and goals, receiving a low score will only redouble my resolve. And if not, I will discard it with all due haste and try something else.

Who am I, then? What character can I play, who will eventually be worthy of my interest? He is an impatient phoenix. When I wake up, I will throw away the ideas of the day before and find a new order. This will never be a comfortable process. It is not meant to be. Embracing change means rejecting the familiar. It will also not be an elegant process, because I am an inelegant creature. I am not perfect, and I never will be. I will make false steps. I will misinterpret my situation. But I think I can grow amidst this self-destruction. I think I can improve my skill at everything I want to be, by never committing to one permanent performance. I don't know if life can work like that, and I don't want to know. If what I'm proposing is humanly impossible, I say it's a fiction worth believing in.

The Actor
The Actor is a simple man. All he wants is to be loved, and respected, and praised, and given the opportunity to lose himself in make-believe, and surrounded by friends and showered in money and protected from any world that won't give him these things. Is that so much to ask?

Friday, May 08, 2015

My mother passes along a job listing from a Beit Shemesh-based mailing list: "Looking for a talented actor with a good singing voice for a potential long-term project in Ramat Beit Shemesh. Requirements: Male between ages of 20-40, American/Canadian accent, Good singer, Available in mornings".

It's in Ramat Beit Shemesh -an ugly, always-roasting symbol of the spirit-killing ultra-Orthodox cult- but hey, a job's a job. I take two buses to the god-forsaken spinoff of my parents' home city for an interview.

Confused both by the fact that some roads spiral around the entire area without changing names, and by the uniform white indistinctiveness (of the buildings, their surroundings and their occupants) that makes all the roads blend into one another in my head, I get off the bus in the wrong place and must trek through the blistering heat to find the particular spot in limbo where the interviewer's apartment is said to be.

The job is for a series of religious childrens' videos. There will be singing, acting, interacting with puppets. I read some dialogue and a patronizing kids' show character comes out of my mouth. Whatever - I can make it less awful later. It's a job. Then there's a song. It's set to the tune of "Do Your Ears Hang Low" and includes the lyric "How Hashem has made so grand all the creatures of the land.". It's a job. And maybe in time I can write my own songs for it. I smile and give it my all. The interviewer seems very impressed.

The project never gets funding, so I'm not called back.


2010, December 2nd, 3:09 and 37 seconds

Performance reviews for December 2010

Saturday, May 31, 2014

Where my character thrives

This blog is not simply a reflection of the life I've lived. It is a map and guide for the life I aspire to. There is a logic behind the blog -I don't know how much of that was intentional and how much emerged organically- but there is a logic and when it is followed to its conclusions, the path that I must be on is crystal-clear. Consider:
  1. The structure of Part 3 strongly implies that the eight characters codified in The Rules are the means to my ultimate self-fulfillment. If this is not the case, then years of intensive narrative development would seem to be completely redundant. The principle of Chekhov's gun, if nothing else, suggests that this elaborate set-up must be paid off, if not now, then at some point in the future.
  2. Performance reviews have shown that maintaining characters for longer periods of time yield more effective representations of those characters. Therefore, it is not reasonable to expect that characters such as the Thinker or the Explorer will only function in short bursts between social obligations. Social obligations must be agreed upon such that all eight characters are not just tolerated, but seen as inherently valuable.
  3. Part 3 began with the grand declaration: "It's me vs. the world.". Unless the entirety of Part 3 is to be ignored entirely in the long term (which makes a proper appreciation of the blog impossible), this suggests that the day-to-day functions of my life must be in some way subversive. Given the blog's repeated vision of the future as a time when diversity of art and freedom to choose one's lifestyle are in greater supply, it is incorrect to read this subversion in any way that does not at least aim to facilitate these qualities in society to some degree.
Naturally, gamism provides the fulfillment of all these requirements. At a game company, I might spend one day considering the purpose and potential of game design (Thinker), another solving programming challenges (Programmer), another hacking away at menial tasks (Worker), another tweaking pacing and emotion (Musician), another collaborating with others (Person), another holing myself in and obsessing about minutiae (Addict), and yet another passively watching what my collaborators are doing to gain inspiration (Explorer), all the while appreciating the end result as a Gamer. (If the Gamer cannot strictly be present, it is consistent with the lesson of "The Second Lasagna".)

The game company where I might do all this, and not simply be put in a little box and asked to repeat a task with ever-increasing efficiency, might not exist. Chances are I would actually quite enjoy the box described in the preceding sentence, but that is not the ending that befits this blog, to which so much of my life has been dedicated over the years. And if the blog may be believed, it is not the ending which befits me. If it does not exist, then I must create this company. Find people to manage its financial aspects, work on the content, find people with diverse skills and flexible appetites (so that they do not need to be fired after each unique creation), and let every aspect of my ideal personality find an outlet. This is the only way of "paying the bills", so to speak, that is not anathema to the blog.

Reality


2010, November 20th, 23:42 and 32 seconds

How My Character Acts

New day. What sort of day is it.

...

*yawn* So. What sort of day is it? Is there anything that I particularly care about today?

Hmmm.... Can't think of anything. A blank slate.

What sort of day should it be?

Let's go with the standard.
A declaration of priorities.
I'd like a tight focus today.
Why stick to what I've already done?

Please wait while the post loads.

...

*yawn* So. What sort of day is it? Is there anything that I particularly care about today?

Hmmm.... Can't think of anything. A blank slate.

What sort of day should it be?

Let's go with the standard.
A declaration of priorities.
I'd like a tight focus today.
Why stick to what I've already done?

I've finished this section of Gamer Mom. Yeah, it's... it's pretty good. My inclination is to stop here.

Start working on another section.
Let's move on to the blog.
Comics until lunch, and then no more for the rest of the day.

This is excellent progress. Cool. Break for lunch, and then what?

Then the blog, obviously.
I could do the data entry now.

I'm not close to finishing this post, but I've got other things to be doing. I'll continue this another day.

I'll focus on data entry.
I wonder if there are any new comic scans.

So much to do! This will be fun.

I'd like to blog now.
I'm in the mood for data entry.

What are my current priorities, exactly?

Let's think about this for a minute. The Ruddigore performance is next month. I could make it really awesome if I go beyond what's demanded of me and make this a focal point of my life. But maybe it shouldn't be more of a focus. Maybe the play is only good in that it'll bring people to my blog, which will get more people to play my games. Or maybe it's just entertainment for me, and it doesn't really matter so much.

And then there's music. Is it something I need, or something I want, or something to avoid, or what?

Nothing has changed: games are the most important part of my life. Music and acting are fun, but they are distractions.
I can play a variation on the character for the next few weeks, and then go back. For now, the play and the music are the main event. We'll see where it goes from there.
This is a chance to show off my range. I'll jump back and forth between the different worlds, grounded in the blog.

Now for the good stuff. What should be higher on the list: Little King's Story or Ocarina of Time?

Definitely Ocarina of Time.
There's no need for a value judgment here. I've been playing Little King's Story more lately, and it's a fine game.

Okay, so we've got a new temporary status quo. Good. Where does Gamer Mom fit in, then?

I ought to do a token amount, even on days like this.
It's a distraction from music. I'll add to it whenever I feel like it, but it's not the most important thing right now.

Am I actually going to go through with stuffing in everything? I could just have one thing of each category, to represent a whole group of activities.

What groups are there. There are passive entertainments and active entertainments. There's acting and gamism; hm, these each have one. It's mostly entertainment where there'd be a question.

I'd like to include everything.
A shorter list will do.

Okay, now before I do a single thing. I need to figure out where I'm going here, and really internalize that this is what the day's going to be about.

So. What is the day about?

Ruddigore
The blog
The Legend of Zelda

Wow. That was exciting. What'll I do for the rest of the day?

Comics and TV
Ocarina of Time

Pretty intense. I don't know if I can handle any more soul-searching for one day. Something lighter would be ideal.

I'll see how far I can get into the data entry.
I'll play someone else now.

This feels like as good a point as any to move on.

Darn, it's taking all my willpower to keep from just playing the Zelda music on the piano over and over. Fine, I'll put "Hyrule Symphony" on a loop on my computer. That'll shut that part of my brain up. What do I do with the rest of it?

More Gamer Mom.
Organize my comics collection a bit more.

Okay, something new. Options!

I could finally let myself have a day focused on music.
I've been meaning to check out Minecraft.
The movie The Social Network isn't going to be in theaters forever. I should go to Rav Khen to see it.

Wait. Before I let this go on for a single minute, I need to rethink this.

Is this something I trust myself to do?

I mean, sure, it'll be great fun. But then what about tomorrow? Will I be able to make plans tomorrow, or will the music drive it out of my head? Giving in to music is a risky move, and I need to be absolutely sure that I'm up to it.

Am I up to it?

I'm not sure, so let's scale back. Instead of actively creating music, I can passively enjoy other people's music. Similar thrill, with much less risk.
I understand the risks, and I'll do whatever I need to do tomorrow.

I'm sure I could spend the whole day in Minecraft. Is that okay?

Sure, go for it.
Let's limit it to five hours, and the rest of the day will be standard.

Wait. Stop. I've got to keep myself from this trap of being passive all day. The movie's at 7:30, which means I leave here at 5:30, which means I've got lots of time. How do I want to spend it?

I'll work on the blog.
To Hyrule!


four comments, the last one being from myself
Tamir said:

I have to disagree with you on a couple things there. Yes, I think it's a positive thing for people to make their own sites, and a beautiful thing for their sites to be rich worlds constructed of their identities. But not everyone has the time or the capacity to learn site coding and to experiment like you have. For example, the other day I stumbled on a template-blog whose owner I imagine knows little to no HTML. Despite this, her personality is evident on every aspect of the site. Her unusual drawings and sense of humor are scattered everywhere, making the site her own, even if she barely knows what its code looks like. It's quite a nice blog. Would it have been better if it wasn't made from a template? Probably. Would it exist at all if not for the template? Probably not.
All I'm trying to say is - don't be so quick to dissmiss template-built sites. They enable the creation of things online that wouldn't exist otherwise.

The other problem I have with your post is your willingness to expose your personal information and your idea that everyone should do so. I think it's prudent to not upload information that could be used to hurt you or steal your identity. Just saying.

On a nonrelated note, I just discovered that your blog is very unfriendly to Internet Explorer. Not sure if that should bother you, though.

Blogger Kyler said:

That was a fun post.

Did the idea for this come about before or after I talked to you about the Gamer Mom script creation idea, because this feels very similar to that, just a very different format.

 Mory said:

No, I started writing "How My Character Acts" three days before your letter. Sorry. Obviously I am not averse to games of this type; I just don't feel it's right for Gamer Mom. This blog post is the idealized version of me, presented in a way that'll be easy for me to look back at and remember how I'm supposed to think. Gamer Mom is not the idealized version of anything, it's messy and complicated and real and deserves a less abstract approach.

Tamir: I know of the problems with Internet Explorer. I don't care. I used to try to get it to run in that crippled browser, but the more ambitious I got the more hours it took for each tiny little thing and eventually it just felt like an anchor holding me down. Internet Explorer is a piece of crap. There are accepted standards of how the web is supposed to work, and Internet Explorer ignores them for no particular reason. There are four perfectly good browsers out there: Firefox, Chrome, Safari and Opera. My blog works perfectly well in all of them because they follow the standards. If and when Microsoft chooses to get their act together, IE will as well. Until that time, anyone who chooses to use Internet Explorer (rather than the non-broken browsers) deserves whatever they get.

 Mory said:

I think some of the November performance reviews were unduly harsh. I was doing some really bold experiments, and shot them down because they didn't seem like the right character. Also, some days were overly similar to each other and I didn't mind that at all. I would judge differently now (January 2011), because I've changed my mind (over the course of writing "I Am..." about what sort of character I'm playing.

I suppose some confusion was necessary, since it was the first month in which I really payed attention to the character. I hadn't decided exactly what I was looking for yet, so I relied entirely on the past blog posts instead of taking interesting days for what they were.

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2010, November 4th, 18:22 and 36 seconds

SysRq

On the insipidity of Web 2.0

The Reality Revolution was the culmination of centuries of technological and social progress. Ever since the late 20th Century and the invention of the internet, there have been subcultures throughout Earth who saw virtual worlds as spaces that could be lived in. But this idea could not be taken seriously by the greater public while physical food and water were still needed for survival. The biotechnologies we use today to get around this problem were the final ingredient in this major social upheaval. Up to that point in history, Earth had always been seen as having an objectively greater value than any other world; when this ideology was challenged, there was a need for true replacements that the existing worlds did not satisfy. An unparalleled explosion of new worlds and philosophies ensued, setting the foundation for all of human history since. It is dificult -even with time-hacking- to affix a clear date to the Revolution, because it lasted anywhere betwen ten and two hundred years in different sections of Earth. But as the Earth decayed and became uninhabitable the move to virtuality was inevitable. Today all of humanity is scattered among the infinitely vast reaches of the net, with each individual given the right (in many governments) to choose their own mode of existence.

The social networking site Facebook has over 500 million users, which by my calculations amounts to around 7.27% of Earth's human population. I think that enables us to say with some conviction, though perhaps not definitively, that social networking is not a passing fad -Facebook or whatever it leads to is going to be an important part of the social fabric moving forward. We are no longer restricted to interacting with those people who happen to be in the same room as us; now we can be separated by great physical distances and still stay in touch on a minute-to-minute level without making any great effort. This is the future, and the general public is embracing it en masse. So why does it feel so old-fashioned? I signed up to Facebook because I wanted someone's e-mail address. I found this person quickly, but found myself locked out of getting any information because I had not officially been recognized as this person's "friend". I browsed through a bunch of other people I had a casual interest in checking on: Tuvia from high school, people I know from Beit Shemesh. All locked. All information restricted, as though I'm some predator who needs to be guarded against. If this is the future, why does it feel as cliquish as a high school hallway?

The System Request key can be found on any standard PC keyboard. It's usually combined with the Print Screen button. You may have used the Print Screen key on occasion: it copies an image of exactly what you're doing at the moment. Then you could save that image as a file, to preserve that exact positioning of windows after they may have already been closed. Or you could share it with other people, to show them exactly what random assortment of activities you happen to be up to in thrilling detail. Or you could put that image on your desktop, to give yourself the impression that there are programs open when in fact there are not. I think we can all agree that Print Screen is a useful key indeed. But if you hold down Alt as you press it, you will see no reaction from your computer because that is how you activate the System Request key. Your computer will ignore you if you press the System Request key. If it were capable of laughing, it would probably do that too. The System Request key has not had a function in decades. In the 1980s it let people switch between operating systems without getting in the way of the programs running on top of them. This isn't the 1980s, and people stick with one operating system. Why is the System Request key still on the keyboard, then? Well, who's going to mess with the standard keyboard? It works, doesn't it? So don't ask silly questions.



The game Digital: A Love Story by Christine Love is shallow and repetitive. But it's also tremendously engaging - I highly recommend it. Simply put, there's nothing else like it. It's a science-fiction love story set on a computer in the 1980s. The interface is glitchy and tedious, but it's a 1980s-style computer interface and that is many levels of awesome. It gave me nostalgia for a time I'm too young to remember, the earliest days of the internet when it still seemed like a big and exciting place. There are all sorts of unpleasant and even dangerous types you meet over the game's bulletin boards, but there are also friendly and fascinating people. Half of what you're doing in the game is illegal, but the end result is free and total access. If you're blocked out, try a different way and eventually you'll get in. The game is an ode to the exploration that may once have been the hallmark of the internet. I compare the excitement I felt playing this technically-crude game to the actual experience of using the internet in the 21st Century, and I wonder what has become of cyberspace. It was once the final frontier; now it's a void you fill with personal photos.

For a few years after I first learned to read, I thought books were exploration games. I would look at something as banal as a prayer book, and say to myself: "I could spend an entire day just exploring this thing, figuring out its structure, memorizing the page numbers for different things. I could really get to know this book!" But then I grew up enough to learn that books were not worlds, they were simple containers of content. So I looked to the internet for my exploring. And when I lost that, I turned to videogames. And when the game industry stopped giving me things to discover, I started making my own games. In a sense, my whole life has followed a pattern of having something which seemed worth discovering, then having it disappoint me. J.J. Abrams once gave a talk about mystery, where he described a box of magic tricks which he got as a kid and has purposefully never opened. He said:
The thing is, that it represents infinite possibility. It represents hope. It represents potential.
And there's something to that. Most likely what was in that box of his wasn't so interesting to begin with, and his world has been a little bit more interesting with the box closed. But I know for a fact that that's not always the case. What's in the box can live up to the mystery, even if it usually doesn't.

There's a primitive online magazine called GAMES?. Its code was written in Microsoft FrontPage 4.0. The commenting forum is so desolate that spammers posted vulgar ads weeks ago and no one seems to have noticed yet. The site has no RSS feed- you just show up when you show up, and if there's a new issue you're pleasantly surprised. The writing is often amateurish, and sometimes presents arguments that would be hard to defend. I think it's a magical site. These people are not copying the way the internet already is, they're not working within any familiar system, they're just doing what they feel like doing.

It was the second issue of GAMES? that linked me to Digital: A Love Story, which surprised me with its existence. I later came back to Christine Love's site to see what sort of individual would make such a strange experience. The box open, I was not disappointed. Seemingly all her creative output was right there on her (seemingly hand-coded) site. Short stories, visual novels, games. Even a fan site she'd made for some obscure anime. There were links to her Twitter feed, and her IM account, and her e-mail address. And I thought to myself: "Here is a person who lives on the internet." I felt like I could spend days, just exploring the place. I downloaded and read one of her visual novels. It wasn't a very good story, but it was distinctive and personal. When it ended I had a random question about it, so I sent her an instant message. She said she was busy, but answered my question. A few minutes later, I took advantage of the opportunity to thank her for Digital: A Love Story, and she immediately logged off. From her Twitter feed I got the impression that I'd just interrupted her writing, twice. So I imagine she was annoyed by this short exchange, but I found it invigorating.

I have no plans to read every story on her site. But when I look at her simple, distinctive site with everything she's done laid out, I know that I could. I could open another box, and find another box inside, and another inside that, and eventually I'd get all the way down to who she actually is as a person. Because that's what it means to live on the internet. The sites I get nostalgic about weren't made by template, they were lovingly (if amateurishly) made by people who put themselves into it. The reason they felt like they were filled with infinite potential was because they were. Those people might have continued putting more and more of themselves into their sites indefinitely, making the experience of browsing through them richer and richer. It's not like many people actually would look at every page they put up. But they could, and that's a beautiful thing. In the real world there are limits to how much of yourself you can share, how well other people can conceivably know you. Those limits aren't present here. Each web site can be an entire world constructed out of an identity, and the willing explorer can travel from one world to another just by pressing a button.

This internet I'm describing is in the process of being replaced. The culture of the web has shifted from many distinct sites run by individuals, to a few monolithic and unthreatening sites run by communities. It used to be, if you wanted a personal site you'd need to learn HTML and bumble through the design process. It would be a lot of work, and it would look like it was made by an amateur, but it would be yours. Every single choice would reflect you, and the web would be made richer by this page's existence. Today, making a personal blog does not require a brain. So people feel free not to use theirs. You don't need to work with the code, so you don't worry about what the experience will be like. It's a blog, it works, who cares beyond that. You're given a bunch of templates, so you don't really decide what it's going to look like and how it's going to feel. And once you've taken the few seconds it takes for all that to be decided, you don't even need to say much. After all, the post is just a way to kickstart a conversation with your friends! The real meat of the blog comes in the comments, when you pass the microphone over to your little community. The end result of all this community-building and ease-of-use is millions of sites which are utterly bland, imitating what everyone else has already been doing instead of setting their own rules.

And now, with sites like Twitter and Facebook, we're not even going as far as to make our own sites anymore. Why go out on your own, at great cost to your time, when you can just plug yourself in to a ready-made database of people? Fill in a list of your favorite songs, make it private to the people who already know you, and voila!- you're on the internet! What more could anyone want?

We have reached a stage in the progression of the internet where everyone seems eager to lock themselves into little boxes. Year by year, the explorer will find fewer and fewer worlds to discover. The old hosting sites for personal web pages are shutting down, because everyone has moved to blogs. Blogs get updated less frequently, because their writers have moved to Twitter. Eventually the blogging sites will shut down, replaced by more community-driven sites which allow for less personality. More people, upon realizing that the internet doesn't need to be totally open, will demand from all internet activities all the privacy they get in the real world. Restricting access to data will be taught in schools as an important life lesson to avoid running into dangerous people. It will be upheld as a basic principle of social etiquette that you are not to expect significant access to other people's output. Random little events like me meeting Kyler through a blog post about WALL•E and then working together simply won't happen, because there will be standard ways of meeting people and anything else will be frowned upon. The internet will get more safe, more controlled, more dead.

There was a person from Kent, England who was showing up on my blog every single day for months. I don't know how this person found my blog. I don't know who it was. There was never a comment. I thought that was really cute. The person was obviously shy, but if he or she was coming to my blog every single day, that person must have been interested in me as a person. So I tried to start a conversation. I put a message at the top of the blog (nicely formatted and everything) that only this person would see, saying hello and thank you for reading my blog and I'm curious who you are. And then there was a link marked "Reply", which would take him/her to a (private) comments page to answer. A few days later, this person stopped coming and has not been back since.

Well, I'm not going to be like that. I am going to continue to use the internet the way it always should have been used. On this blog, I present myself in full. My e-mail address is Mory@TheBuckmans.com. My AIM address is MoryBuck, though I'm rarely on. My full name is Mordechai Ariel Buckman. I tell you these things because I am not afraid. I will not participate in the subversion of the internet that simply extends the old social order and its limitations. Reality can be replaced. Let the old social order die out, and bring on the future!

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..."


2010, November 2nd, 3:53 and 8 seconds

Performance reviews for November 2010


2010, October 21st, 14:44 and 44 seconds

No Soundtrack

We Asperger types, we each have an affinity, a skill, a mutant power. Mine is music. I never chose to be a musician. I chose to be a pianist, I chose to do specific things with my music, and when I was encouraged to join music schools I didn't choose to object. But I never chose to be a musician in the first place. I don't find music all that fascinating. I don't think I have any particular insights I can add to the field. The highest musical goal I can realistically aspire to with my skill set is TV composer, not a job that particularly appeals to me. But I can't help it: I am a musician. I've always been a musician. As far back as I can remember, my life has always had a soundtrack. Wherever I went, whatever I did, I always accompanied it by singing. And even when I didn't sing out loud, and after I learned that it's not acceptable to sing in public, the music kept playing in my head. It hasn't ever stopped. As I write these words a new musical theme has just popped into my head, not a good one but a new one and I was compelled to pace around the room following that thought until I forced myself back to the keyboard. The music hasn't gone away as I'm typing, I'm just doing my best to ignore it. Being a musician is hard-coded into my DNA, and there's not a thing I can do about it.

When I got into a music school, someone lent me a corny inspirational movie with a message about "following your dreams". And it hadn't occurred to anyone that maybe music isn't my dream. Okay, so I have to admit that there are often musical themes in my dreams, but it's never what the dreams are about. I want to make computer games, and not just musical computer games either. I want to fill the gaps in gamism; someone needs to do that job and I think it can be me. But there is no Asperger affinity for "general creativity" (as you'd need to be a gamist), an interest in videogames is just a side-dish that always comes with the package of Aspergeryness. I don't have to make games. But I have to think about music.

At first none of the music I sang to myself was original. Sometimes I'd think it was original, for some reason, but later realized that I'd just been singing a song I'd heard from the radio. In order to alleviate the embarrassment of that realization, I gradually started obscuring the sources of the songs I sang so that I could convince myself they were original. And I've gotten good enough at that that by this point when I play "original" music I might be switching sources every few seconds and it'll all fit together as though it's just my work. I doubt if I've ever come up with a musical theme that was really original. Every time I realize this, I get less interested in music as a concept. If only my DNA would listen.

Every time I audition for a musical, I do it with a song I wrote myself. I'd feel uncomfortable singing a song someone else had written, because you're not supposed to do that sort of thing when other people can hear you. I haven't played another person's composition on the piano in years. It seems arrogant to make other people around hear you copying someone else's work. I do often play the music from the Legend of Zelda series, but I'm always careful to put my own spin on it. If I'm being semi-original, I don't have to feel so guilty. But even with the creativity I still feel that I'm just giving in to an addiction, and it'll never amount to anything.

The daily performance reviews are allowing me a certain amount of self-control. I decided that music would be considered part of "mundane activities" rather than its own distinct activity, because that way I'm afraid that if I give in to music I'll ruin the day. It's basically working. Some weeks go by without me touching the piano once.

On Sunday I had a particularly tough rehearsal of Ruddigore. I was sitting alone with the director for hours, not going over anything I'd practiced and being expected to do well at a lot of things which I hadn't practiced. And he was being very rigid in his thinking, not letting me experiment with anything and giving me extremely specific pieces of direction that made no sense. (I later realized that he was trying to imitate certain beats from a Ruddigore cartoon.) After a few hours, I said to Rob that I was tired and I would like a break for a few minutes. And when he said yes, I asked him whether I could play my latest composition on his piano. And when he said yes, I did. He did not react to the composition, and I felt very embarrassed afterwards that I had wasted his time. Later on, I realized that I'd been playing for me and not for him, because I needed to vent some frustration and there was no socially acceptable way to do that except through the obscurity of original music. When I got home I was still in a rotten mood. And there in my inbox was a letter from Eliezer. I had asked him for a recording of his new concerto, and here it was. I put on my headphones, turned off my monitor, and listened. When it was done, I went back to the beginning and listened again. Those were forty-three minutes that I could have spent on Gamer Mom. But I needed music, and this blog had no say in the matter.



That's when I realized that I couldn't suppress my music, not ever. It's not an option that'll work in the long-term. Oh, I can keep myself off the piano for a little while, but then in a moment of stress or tiredness I'll go right back and then I might even embarrass myself in the process because I'll be so desperate for the music around then.

It also occurred to me that music would probably be a much better job for me than anything else. And that's a dangerous thought. Can I trust myself to work in music, and not lose sight of what matters? Or is the idea in itself self-deception, a desperate attempt to break down the structures which I'm working so hard (here in part 3 of the blog) to set up? I don't want a retread of Part 2. I need to find some compromise, so that I can present a unified front. I don't think I'm strong enough to do that yet.


2010, October 3rd, 2:23 and 51 seconds

Performance reviews for October 2010

Go back


I Am Not Myself Today
On characterization in interactive storytelling, and my adventure game-in-progress Gamer Mom

The vast majority of adventure game protagonists are variations on two basic character types. I call them the Silent Wanderer and the Uninhibited Sociopath.


The Silent Wanderer acts like this:

You are standing along a dirt road. There is a man standing by the road.

Listen to the man
Look at the road
Keep walking

"This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Look at the road
Keep walking

"Have you forgotten what I said already? Okay, I will repeat it for you. This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Look at the road
Keep walking

"You want me to give my speech again? Don't mind if I do! This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Look at the road
Keep walking

There's a lot of dirt here. You decide to think of it as a 4x4 grid, because that is easier for your mind to process.

Check area 1
Check area 2
Check area 3
Check area 4
Check area 5
Check area 6
Check area 7
Check area 8
Check area 9
Check area 10
Check area 11
Check area 12
Check area 13
Check area 14
Check area 15
Check area 16

You find nothing.

You find a key.

Listen to the man
Keep walking

The road leads into a gate. It is locked. What's that? Climb over? Don't be ridiculous.

Look at the gate
Go back

That is one nice-looking gate.

Look at the gate
Go back

You look again to confirm, and it still looks nice.

Look at the gate
Go back

How on Earth did such a nice gate end up in a place like this? Surely there is a long and fascinating story behind this.

Look at the gate
Go back

You are standing along a dirt road. There is a man standing by the road.

Listen to the man
Look at the road
Keep walking

"Ahem. This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Keep walking

"Again? Sure! This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Keep walking

"You'll listen to me again? This is the best day of my life. This is the town of Peaceville. It was founded in 1982. We are all very happy here. By the way, there was once a mad warlock named Jimmy who lived here. He had a strange imagination and a love of puzzles. Oh, that crazy crazy Jimmy. It is said that there is a magical switch somewhere, that will undo all the mischief he caused. There is an interesting story about that..."

..and so on.

Listen to the man
Keep walking

You walk through the gate. On the ground in front of you, you see a box.

Go back
Look at the box
Open the box

It is a box.

Go back
Look at the box
Open the box

A box it is.

Go back
Look at the box
Open the box

Is it a box?

Go back
Look at the box
Open the box

You are standing along a dirt road. There is a man standing by the road.

Listen to the man
Keep walking

Inside the box there's a switch.

Look at the switch
Flick the switch

It looks like a switch.

Look at the switch
Flick the switch

Do you think it's a switch?

Look at the switch
Flick the switch

And they all lived happily ever after. The end.



And then there's the Uninhibited Sociopath:

What a lousy little road this is. Thankfully, I'm here to make life more fun for everyone!

There's a man standing by the road, with a key dangling out of his pocket.

I have a rake, a pair of cymbals, a feather, and my natural charm.

What should I do first?

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm going to yell at the top of my lungs. Yaaaaah! Blobbity blobbity blobbity! Oink!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm not going to dance by myself!

Dance with rake
Dance with cymbals
Dance with feather
Dance with man

Oh, sweet rake. You are a fantastic dancer. Did you ever take lessons?

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm jumping and running and hitting myself in the head with cymbals. I think the cymbals are enjoying this more than I am.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm holding the feather to my chest and twirling around. Wheee!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Hey, man standing on the side of the road! Got your arms! Now you have to dance with me, because I'm not going to let go. One two three, one two three. You know, this would be a lot more romantic if you stopped trying to wriggle away. You're no fun at all.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

How should I jump?

Jump on ground
Jump on rake
Jump on cymbals
Jump on feather
Jump on man
Jump at key

Jump, jump.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm jumping on the rake... ow. It hit me in the head. Bad rake.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

The cymbals make a lovely sound when I jump on them, don't you think?

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm jumping on the feather! Take that, feather!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm jumping on top of the man now. Jump! Jump! That was fun. Oh, stop acting like that hurt. You're barely even bruised!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Maybe I can get that key out of the man's pocket, if I get enough momentum and swipe it in the middle of the jump. I'm going back now... okay, that's far enough back. Run run run jump! No, didn't work. It was worth a shot.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

My therapist says I need to talk more. Or was it less? I can never remember.

Talk to ground
Talk to rake
Talk to cymbals
Talk to feather
Talk to man
Talk to key

Ground, you need to take a bath. You're covered in dirt.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Hey, rake. How're ya doin'. Seen any good leaves lately?

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Why is it that you only make crashing sounds? I think it's silly, how you always try to do the same thing. It's more fun to do lots of different things! Don't you think? Ah, why do I bother. No matter what I say, you always just answer with a crashing sound.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

You're such a cute little feather! Yes you are! Coochie coochie coo!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

What should I say?

I love you!
I like you!
I dislike you!
I hate you!
Give me your key!
You're boring me. Go away now.

You're teasing me, aren't you. Dangling out of that guy's pocket like that... you know I have to get you, now that I've seen you. So shiny and gold. What do you see in that person, anyway? Wouldn't I be a better owner? I'd take you places! Oh, key, stop playing hard to get and join me on my quest!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

"No."

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

"Okay."

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm running in circles! Yippee!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

How should I sleep?

Sleep with ground
Sleep with rake
Sleep with cymbals
Sleep with feather
Sleep with man

I'm curling up into a ball on the ground. I'm closing my eyes. I'm sleeping. I'm waking up.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Ouch! Bad rake.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Good idea! I'll hit myself in the head with cymbals.
























Good morning.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm using the feather as a pillow. I'm so well rested now!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

He's resisting, the prude. It's just as well- he's not my type.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

What should I grab?

Grab ground
Grab rake
Grab cymbals
Grab feather
Grab man
Grab key

I'm grabbing a handful of dirt for later. You never know when a handful of dirt will come in handy!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm confused. Where's the fun in grabbing something that's actually mine?

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm going to carry this man around with me. You never know when he might come in handy! Whoa. This guy is heavier than he looks. I don't want to carry this man around with me. Lose some weight, mister.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Ooh, that man standing by the side of the road has a key dangling out of his pocket. Neat. I'm going to take it. I wonder how I'll use it. Maybe I'll use it to rip up a paper plane! Or maybe I'll use it to conduct electricity! Or an orchestra! Maybe if I bury it in the ground, a magical beanstalk will grow which will lead me to the kingdom where everything is made out of tin foil! But first I have to take it. Why won't you let me take your key, man standing by the side of the road? Oh, I get it. There's some more complicated way to get it. I'll have to think out of the box....

"You are not getting my key!"

Yes I am! Shut up.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

What should I use the rake with?

Use rake with ground
Use rake with cymbals
Use rake with feather
Use rake with man
Use rake with key

Rake, rake, rake. The ground is still dirty! I knew I overpaid for this rake.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm balancing one of the cymbals on the rake! Look at me look at me!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm cleaning the rake with the feather. It's clean now.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm hitting the man with the rake.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Maybe I can grab the key out of the man's pocket with the rake! Steady... steady... no, this won't work. This requires so much precision, the only way I could possibly pull this off is in a mini-game. How am I supposed to be precise with a multiple-choice system?!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

What should I use the cymbals with?

Use cymbals with ground
Use cymbals with rake
Use cymbals with feather
Use cymbals with man
Use cymbals with key

Hitting the ground with the cymbals isn't doing anything interesting.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm throwing the feather in the air! Now I'm trying to catch it between the cymbals as it falls. I'm going to get this! I didn't. I'm picking up the feather.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Hey, I have an audience! I'll play the cymbals for him. Play, play, play. I hope he appreciates the artistry that's going into this.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

If I use a cymbal as a Frisbee, maybe I can knock that key out of the man's pocket! Let's see... no, I only hit his head. I'm picking up the cymbal.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

What should I use the feather with?

Use feather with ground
Use feather with rake
Use feather with cymbals
Use feather with man
Use feather with key

I'm signing my name in the ground. Wait, does it have one Q or two? I'll use three, just to be safe.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

I'm going to see if this man standing by the road is ticklish. He is!

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather

Yes, I thought of that. But then how would I get the key out of my armpit? Really, you should think these things through.

Yell
Dance
Jump
Talk
Run
Sleep
Grab
Use rake
Use cymbals
Use feather



I think there's room in adventure games for a different kind of character. Someone who behaves according to a plausible personality, with motivations and history and relationships with other people. Someone who is aware of social norms and is (on some level) concerned with outward appearances. A person with opinions and emotional reactions. A person whose capabilities and behavior patterns go beyond solving puzzles. A complicated character. Let's call it the Human Being.

Damn it. I was supposed to be home almost an hour ago. What will I say when I get there?

"What difference does it make? I'm here now, aren't I?"
"It's not like you're always so punctual."
"I was busier than I expected."
I don't have any good excuses. I should probably just apologize.
"Was I supposed to be here earlier? Oh! I must have misheard you."

There's an old man walking alongside the road, struggling to carry some bags that look much too heavy for him.

Help him out

"Can I help you carry that?", I ask. "Oh, that's very nice of you. Most people these days wouldn't even think to stop and help an old man out. They'd just pass right by."

"I'm sure that's not true."
"You don't look so old."
"I actually have to be somewhere soon. Is it far to where you're going?"
This might actually make for a good explanation of why I'm late.

"No, trust me-", he says, "you're one in a million. I know what I'm talking about."

"Why wouldn't I help you?"
What, me?
"Thanks."

He chuckles. I wonder how long this is going to take.

"Is it far to where you're going?"
There's really no need to talk.

"Hold your horses. It's right up ahead."

A minute later, we reach his house. I should go now.

"I'm going."
"Do you need anything else?"

We keep walking until we reach his house. I should go now.

"Do you need anything else?"
"I really should go."

"Trust me, most people don't think like that. It would be nice if they did, but they don't." I don't know what to say to that.

A minute later we reach his house. I should go now.

"Do you need anything else?"
"I really should go."

"Yeah, I'm a saint.", I laugh.

A minute later we reach his house. I should go now.

"Do you need anything else?"
"I really should go."

We keep walking until we reach his house. I should go now.

"I'm going."
"Do you need anything else?"

"Oh, of course. Thank you. I mean that."

It doesn't take long to get home from there.

Wait a little
Go in

"No, you've done plenty for me. Thank you. I mean that."

It doesn't take long to get home from there.

Wait a little
Go in

I'm standing outside the front door.

Go in
Wait a little

I'm standing outside the front door.

Wait a little
Go in

I walk in. "Hi, I'm here now."

"Oh, good. Hello."
"Hey. You know, before you say anything about how late I am, I just want to point out-"

"Oh, sure. Don't worry about it."
"Hi. I was very busy. Hence the lateness."

"Oh, sure. Don't worry about it."
"Hi. I'm sorry I'm late."

"No, that's fine. Don't worry about it."
"Hello. Oh, was I supposed to be here earlier? What time is it-"

"That's fine. You're here, it doesn't matter."
"Hi. Sorry I'm late, I was helping this guy carry some bags."

"Ha! Sounds like you. It's no problem."


1. The Primacy of Characterization

(2010, September 27th)

1. The Primacy of Characterization

(2010, September 27th)

For a long time now, I've felt that adventure games are not meeting their considerable potential. My approach to game design revolves around purity: each game should try to figure out what it is that it does well, and then pursue that with a single-minded focus. This attitude has led to many disagreements between me and what seems to be the majority of gamers. Several times a year, some game is widely praised for its exceptionally diverse gameplay, and I crash the party with my insistence that its design is an unfocused mess. "But it's fun!", people protest. Well, I like to think games should aim higher than that. "Fun" is easy. You can get fun by throwing a ball against a wall. So I'm not as concerned with how fun a game is as how good it is, how well it achieves whatever it is it's set out to achieve.

What is it that modern adventure games are achieving? Sure, they can be fun. Puzzles are fun and stories are fun and perception games are fun and exploration is fun, and if you put them all together you're moving between fun activities all the time. But what is the point? Why play an adventure game, when you could get your fun from anywhere else? If it's puzzles you like, you'll be more mentally stimulated by a pure puzzle game. If you're looking for exploration, you'll get a more satisfying (if short) journey in those rare pure exploration games like The Path or Small Worlds. If you want to hunt for objects, there are Hidden Object Games where that's all you do. And if you want a story, there are well-established old Forms for the task. What is it that adventure games have to offer, other than nostalgia for the way computer games used to be made?

Consider this dialogue tree from the 1990 adventure game The Secret of Monkey Island. The context is that Guybrush Threepwood, pirate wannabe, has stolen a statue from the governer of the area. On his way out, he runs into her and sees her face for the first time.
"So, you were just going to borrow it, eh?"

"Uh..."
"Gee..."
"Well..."
"Gosh..."

"Relax, Mr. Threepwood. I know why you're here. Believe me, you're not the first who's tried. Although, I have to admit, not many get as far as you have."

"Er..."
"Um..."
"Golly..."
"Jeepers..."

"My lookout told me of your arrival. I've wanted to meet you ever since I heard your fascinating name. Tell me, Guybrush, why do you want to be a pirate? You don't look like one. Your face is too... sweet."

"Blfft..."
"Grlpyt..."
"Hrdrl..."
"Rldft..."

"I see... Well, you're obviously not in the mood for idle chitchat, are you? I suppose you've got many more exciting things to do. I won't take up any more of your time, Mr. Threepwood."

It's an easy gag, and yet I feel like I can relate to the character of Guybrush Threepwood more in these three nodes than in all the rest of the game. When I play through this dialogue tree, I am struck by a certainty that adventure games have something to offer as a storytelling medium. Think about what the player is going through here. Even before the player has given any input, he is already feeling a bit like Guybrush, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The fact that there are multiple choices available suggests that there should be a way out, but there isn't one. So the player is confused as to what he should do: is any one of these options actually useful? Then Elaine surprises both Guybrush and the player, by praising rather than chastising him. Again there are four meaningless choices, because Guybrush is so surprised by this that he still can't form a thought. And before he can collect his thoughts, she flirts with him. His brain turns to mush, and the player is given random strings of letters. It is absolutely impossible to communicate. Elaine promptly leaves, and the player is left in a daze. As the player says "This game is unfair!", Guybrush comments: "I really wish I knew how to talk to women." So in a matter of seconds, the player has experienced a fairly complex series of emotions, first-hand!

That's the strength of adventure games. They can put you in the head of another character, and suddenly everything in the world is fresh and new because you're seeing it through someone else's eyes. The player is the character's "free will". The character has a personality, and a history, and everything that a human identity entails, and the player gets to experience it from the inside. That is an experience unique to adventure games among all the storytelling media.

What does this mean in practice? I'm going to try to answer that question from several angles in the posts to come, but it all basically boils down to one simple principle: Only give the player choices which the character would consider. If it doesn't make sense for the character to pick up an object, then don't give the player that ability. If the character really wants something, then restrict the player's choices to ways of getting that. The player should have choices to make, but only in the way that a real person has choices to make. As a human being, you have many years of experience teaching you that some things are acceptable and some things are not. In any given situation there are only a handful of things you will actually consider. Those are the options the player should have. No more, no less.

So whatever the topic of the game, whatever its genre, whatever its plot, and whatever challenges it may pose to the gamer, the very first thing any adventure gamist must ask himself is: "Who is the player character? What makes that person tick?". The rest will follow from there.

2. Interface Art

(2010, October 13th)

2. Interface Art

(2010, October 13th)

Conventional wisdom says that an adventure game's story must compete for attention with its gameplay. Characterization usually comes from dialogue and cutscenes; assuming there's animation and voice acting (as there always is these days), that means we're dealing with techniques inherited from film. And film is a medium built on empathy: you passively watch characters, and try to imagine what they're feeling. The standard gameplay is an entirely different experience, built on direct interaction. The character steps aside, and you solve puzzles and hunt for objects and make choices. The adventure games we're used to playing keep going back and forth between these two entirely separate experiences. I've played adventure games where the story and the gameplay are designed by two different people. It shows, and it's wrong. An adventure game should be one cohesive unit, where being involved in the story is the gameplay.

The key to pulling this off is creative manipulation of the user interface, by which I am referring to the buttons the player will be pressing to interact with the game. This idea runs counter to the usual design philosophies. The interface is seen as a practical tool, nothing more. It gives the player whatever controls he wants/needs over the game world, and beyond that it should stay out of the way. So either the player always sees a bunch of generic "Talk/Walk/Examine/Inventory" controls, or the player is given minimal options for interaction beyond choosing an object on the screen. Either way, the intent is the same: learn how to play, and then never think about it again so that you can get to the meat of the game. The controls are a layer of abstraction that risk pulling the player out of the experience if they get too intrusive.

But the way I see it, playing with the interface is the experience. That level of abstraction is where all the magic happens, so it should be emphasized and expanded rather than hidden away. This may sound counter-intuitive, given that I want the player to feel like he's in the head of the character. Surely the best way to do that is through cinematic immersion, taking away all the game-y bits and pulling you into that pretty world! The problem I have with that line of thought is, the player actually isn't the character, and if he sees the game world directly he's not going to react the way the character would. You can use film tricks like camera angles, soundtracks, acting, etc. to get the player more in the right mood, but those filmic illusions are awfully thin and they'll fall apart as soon as the player is left to his own devices. I see only two reasons why you might ever expect that if you drop the player in the middle of a game world, he'll start acting like the character. The first is if you've designed a game for one very specific person who has exactly the same personality as the character. The other possibility is that the character is so generic that he's not really worth making a game out of. (This is often the case.)

With a more dynamic interface we have another option: we can tell the player how to interpret the game world, by giving him specific choices that frame the situation the way the character would see it.

I'll use a few examples from Gamer Mom (the adventure game I'm writing) to illustrate this principle.

Toward the beginning of the game, the titular mother is talking about her favorite game, World of Warcraft, for anyone who'll listen. The interface is a long list of buttons, each one listing a different thing that is wonderful about World of Warcraft. They can be pressed in any order, and when one is pressed it disappears (leaving the others). Now, I have no idea what any given player's attitude toward WOW will be. He may in fact be an enthusiast, but more likely he's never played the game. And some players will never have even heard of the game. That's irrelevant, because as soon as I frame the situation with the implied question "What order should the game's qualities be praised in?", I have taken the player's personality out of the equation. What matters now is what the character wants, and in trying to satisfy the character's short-term goals the player will come to understand what it's like to be that character from moment to moment.

Here's another example. At a certain point (that the player may or may not reach), the woman's husband remarks that World of Warcraft sounds nice. Now, actually he's just trying to shut her up, but his wife is so starved for attention at this point that she'd like to believe he's interested. There are only two buttons: "He means it." and "He doesn't mean it.". I'm expecting that the player is intelligent enough to understand what's really going on, so the choices should be perceived as "Let's pretend this isn't hopeless." and "Let's just admit the truth.". (I didn't write it that way, because I want to leave some ambiguity as to whether or not she understands her situation.) The two choices take the game in radically different directions, and it's entirely up to the player to decide which way to go. Of course one way is clearly "right" and the other is clearly "wrong", but because these are the only two options provided, the player will (at least for a split second) be on the fence about it just like the character is.

At a certain point she can realize exactly how little he cares about her interests, and the player has many contradictary options on how to react. I will note briefly that the multitude of options intentionally reflects the character's confusion on being confronted with the truth, but that's not what I'd like to focus on at the moment. The most extreme (but still reasonable-sounding) option has her go too far, and she knows she went too far. So all these options disappear, replaced by one little button marked "Apologize". And that button doesn't go away- you can press it over and over and she'll apologize in many different ways, but you never get all those other options back. Now think about what the player will be going through, at this point. A moment ago he had lots of freedom in choosing how to act. Now that's all gone, because of what he chose. I think a tiny bit of guilt would not be out of the question, even though the player couldn't have known how his choice would play out.

As these examples demonstrate, there's quite a lot of emotion you can wring out of a bunch of buttons. Normally you'd expect a button to be a trigger for content, but the buttons are actually the containers of content here. The graphics and dialogue provide context that can convince you you're dealing with a larger world and plot, but all the abstract feelings that give the story its meaning (I have referred to this in the past as the "music" of storytelling.)- that's all in the buttons. How many there are, what's written on them, whether they stay or disappear when you click on them.

And also, how they're placed. Let's say there's a single button to press. This tells the player that there's only one conceivable way to deal with the situation. (Whether that's true or not is irrelevant- it's what the character thinks.) But where is the button? If it's a tiny little button hiding in a corner, it's an uncomfortable step to take. If the button's medium-sized and in the center of the interface area, then it's just a matter-of-fact thing-you-do. And if it's taking up the entire interface area, then it's yelling out "Click me! Click me now! No time to think about it!". The layout of controls can be a useful kind of artistic expression when used properly.

In Gamer Mom the interface is entirely separated from the graphics: following the lead of countless old games, I am placing the interface on the bottom and the graphics and dialogue on top. Because I consider the interface to be of critical importance, I'm giving it a full half of the screen space. I would like to emphasize that while I have only been looking for storytelling techniques that fit this model, it is hardly the only model that might work. Controls could be overlaid on the graphics, the graphics could be a rectangle in the center of the screen with the controls on all sides, and there could be more complex designs where the world and controls are not kept in specific boxes but keep moving around the screen dynamically. And there's no reason buttons would be superior to lists and labels and images and drag-and-drop functionality. I do think it's best to have a pointer of some sort rather than a console-style controller or a keyboard (The controller is too limiting, and the keyboard is not limiting enough.), but beyond that none of what I'm doing is the be-all and end-all of adventure game design, nor is it meant to be. It is a starting point, nothing more.

I imagine with the right interface and a sufficiently creative gamist, any kind of character and emotional progression could be experienced interactively. I can't go that far myself, but I know the first step: the interface needs to be dynamic, it needs to be expressive, and it should never be taken for granted.

The Instructor
The Instructor is passionate about a great many things, and would like nothing so much as to share his enthusiasm with others - whether or not they seem so inclined. He might not be the best at convincing others of his occasionally off-beat views, but he gives it all the research, patience and open-mindedness he's got. The instructor's hobbies include reading books (though fiction bores him), writing essays and engaging in long debates that force him to reconsider his views.

Friday, May 08, 2015

I find an ad requesting HTML lessons for a graphic designer. The headline says "Female tutor for website coding", but the job description itself makes no such requirement (and why does it matter, really?), so I apply. I write:

"Hi. Attached is my CV. In the interest of transparency, I have to admit that I am not female. But I know the ins and outs of web design, and would be happy to teach you. We'd start with a cursory overview of HTML, the simple language that the basic structure of any web page is coded in, to get as quickly as possible to the fun parts - CSS, the language used to control how the page looks, and maybe Javascript later for more complex scripting, depending on how far you want to go.

"My rate would be 40 shekels an hour. I'd tailor the lessons to the direction you want to go in, whether that's just the barebones proficiency, mastery of advanced CSS techniques like animations and transformations, or even the ability to realize designs that don't fit the standard web paradigm. It would be entirely up to you how much you wanted to get out of the lessons."

She says that sounds great, but she only wants a woman.

3. Separating Intent From Actions

(2010, October 26th)

3. Separating Intent From Actions

(2010, October 26th)

We've come to expect 1:1 control of our games. We tell a character to shoot something, he shoots it. We tell a character to move one step left, he does. We tell a character to combine two objects, and immediately the two objects are combined. All this gameplay is very practical -so practical, in fact, that I don't believe it bears any resemblance to the actual experience of being a human being. Humans are messy. We make mistakes. We get distracted. Sometimes we do things without thinking about it, and sometimes we think about things without doing anything about it. To create a character who could conceivably exist in the real world (which is my goal with Gamer Mom), you can't sidestep the messiness of human behavior. So if a player presses a button saying "Stand up" for instance, it doesn't mean the character needs to immediately stand up. All it means is that the character has decided to stand up. Lots of different things can happen after that, depending on circumstance. Conversely, if the character stands up it doesn't mean the player has necessarily pressed a button marked "Stand up", because there might not be any conscious thought behind that action.

As I write this post, I occasionally stand up and pace around the room. There is no conscious thought involved there. If my thought processes were represented by buttons, there might be one saying "Think about the subconscious", and when you press it I just so happen to stand up and pace around the room because that's what I do every time I come across a new thought. (Don't ask me why. I have no idea.) Once I'm pacing, the buttons could be questions I'm asking myself, but there would also be one button marked "Keep typing", and if you pressed that I'd sit down at the computer again. The sitting and standing and pacing are not the relevant actions here, the thought processes are. The movement is just something that naturally goes along with the conscious choices.

Let's say you're eating something. Most likely you're not thinking about every single bite you're taking. It may be a conscious choice to start eating, but past that there's no thinking required. So if you eating something were an adventure game, there would be a button marked "Eat", and once you pressed it it would stay pressed until you clicked on something else that you couldn't do while eating. No "Take another bite" button is required, because as soon as the character decides to eat, all the individual bites go without saying. Now let's change the situation a little bit by imagining that the food is really bad, but for whatever reason the player character is forcing himself to eat it anyway. Then we wouldn't tie one button to many actions, but one action to many buttons!: There would be a button marked "Take a bite", then a "Chew" button and a "Swallow" button. And if we're being cute about it, at the end there might be an optional "Compliment" button, which has the character say "Mmmmm, delicious!".

You could even go beyond these examples. If an action which doesn't require much thought only calls for one button, then an action which doesn't require any thought at all might not need any input at all from the player to be triggered. The character might act on an instinct at a specific point, even though there were no buttons beforehand. (This could cause the player to be frustrated, which can be used for dramatic effect.) And if many buttons imply that the action is hard to do, you could achieve a similar effect by requiring a single button to be pressed several times to trigger an action. Each click before that could visually push the character a tiny bit closer to the action, to indicate to the player that his inputs are in fact being noticed, and that the lack of action is down to the character's hesitation. The gamist can also indicate the severity of the character's fear by making the action's button disappear after a few presses, as though the character loses his nerve entirely when he gets too close to actually doing whatever it is. (On a more cynical note, this is also a useful way for the gamist to avoid having to write a drastically divergent branching path while acting as though the idea was considered.)

By human standards, all these examples so far are very straightforward. The button indicates a clear action, and the character acts accordingly. But we're not always so rational. If there's a button marked "Get book", but that book is in a different room, pressing the button might just lead the character to that room, where the player finds the buttons "Why did I come here?" (having no effect when pressed) and "Go back". It's so perfectly common to forget things; why shouldn't it be common in adventure games too? Alternately, the character could get distracted by something else along the way to the room with the book, leading him on a tangent that he never gets back to the book from. If nothing else, it's a tremendously useful little plot device: you have the character going to deal with something tedious, that unexpectedly leads him to a place where something interesting is going on, and the chore is swiftly forgotten. The action that the clicked button suggests doesn't actually need to ever happen.

A thinking person is always going to have more options than just actions to choose from. There are all sorts of other decisions to make: what opinions to form, what attitudes to display, what ideas to keep in mind for later. These buttons would generally be marked with statements rather than commands: "I don't like this person.", "I'd better not waste any time.", "Interesting.". Clicking on one of these buttons does not make its statement true; if the statement appeared on a button, then the character is already thinking it. Rather, the player in clicking on a statement is giving the character implicit permission to act on that thought/feeling in the future. In certain cases it'll make sense for the character to do an action much later in the game without any input from the player, just because the player gave that permission here. But more often, it will subtly add or subtract buttons for the player to choose from and/or slightly change the actions triggered when the regular buttons are pressed. It is not always essential to include buttons to pay off an earlier button press, but often it makes sense.

Buttons can also have immediate effects even if they are not clearly marked. A polite person will act on the button "I don't like this person." by having the option to end a conversation with that person a little earlier, but a rude person may immediately say "You know, I don't like you very much.". Obscuring the end result from the player can reflect that the result is unclear to the character- he doesn't necessarily know where any thought he follows is going to lead him. A button called "Disagree" may instead (in specific contexts) be marked "That's not true.", and the difference in how the player experiences it is that he's unsure whether the button is an immediate command or just something to keep in mind for later. I find that foggier actions make for a more authentic experience.

One thing which I'm absolutely not going to do in Gamer Mom is to present dialogue options exactly how they are spoken. I am referring to the standard way of handling dialogue trees: you have a list of complete sentences, and when you choose one the character repeats it and receives a concise response from whoever he's talking to. Playing through dialogues like that, I always get the sense that my character isn't being honest and human, he's just reciting a script I'm feeding him. That's why I'd rather keep choices to things like "Reluctantly accept", "Go back to the other topic", etc. If you see the entire statement before it's made, then the character knows exactly what he's going to say before he starts. Who talks like that? Even if a character thought he knew exactly what he was about to say, I'd probably fill his statement with "um"s and "like"s and "y'know"s, and I'd have fun getting the other character to interrupt his speech in the middle with questions and all sorts of messiness like that. Humans do not act like computer programs, outputting data efficiently. So if you want a computer program to be about humans, you've got to add in all that messiness that we never think about but always do.

The next time you catch yourself messing some little thing up, or doing something you didn't exactly intend, think about how that behavior might work in an adventure game. You might be surprised by how easily the experience of being you translates into gameplay.

4. Maintaining The Illusion of Reality

(2010, November 30th)

4. Maintaining The Illusion of Reality

(2010, November 30th)

From a certain perspective, everything I've said thus far is common sense. I want to encourage the idea that the adventure game in its pure state is a common-sense kind of medium. After all, is it not a universal idea to wonder what it would be like to be other people for a little while? It seems perfectly natural for a game to try and sate that curiosity. But while this idea is simple, its implementation is not. It is a good start to decide on a consistent characterization and convert that characterization into an interface. But still what you're left with is just an illusion: that the player is being given control of a real person with a personality and a life. Illusions are flimsy. At any point the player might remember he's playing a meticulously-scripted game, and stop caring about the character.

Thankfully, the player is probably on our side. There is a tendency to recognize patterns and human behaviors in all things, so the player will usually make an effort to fill in the gaps in the game's reality in his mind. When we offer the player an abstract reality made of buttons and images, we can realistically expect him to imagine that there is a "real world" on the other side of those buttons, just because the player is human. Don't take it personally, it's just how we're wired. A human brain, upon seeing patterns that seem like human behaviors, immediately assumes there's another human on the other side. In the case of a (single-player) adventure game, there's obviously no person on the other end. So many players will automatically assume that there's some "artificial intelligence" program in the code, with a personality and something like human thought processes. (There is, of course, no such thing going on.) Those who understand the techniques used will reject such ideas, but they might have similar feelings going on under their rational skepticism.

At a certain point, an adventure can stop seeming like a computer program and start feeling like it's just people being people. At that point, the player is hooked. Whatever happens in the game after that is real and has the corresponding weight. The gamist should attempt to bring the player to that point of irrational belief, and keep him there for as long as possible. While the player believes, the adventure has a self-evident value. But as soon as he does not, the game becomes a curious novelty and nothing more.

The first step, as I've mentioned, is to follow the principles I laid out in the last three posts. Without a dynamic, character-driven interface, there's nothing to fool the player with. Beyond that, it's mostly a matter of finding a realistic degree of chaos. Remember, what the gamist is fighting is the perception of a straightforward computer program. "This isn't a game, it's a person you're playing!". So anything which seems too computerized and logical damages the illusion, reminding the player that he's actually just clicking on buttons on a screen. And contrariwise, things which don't make sense and aren't expected add to the illusion. This may seem backwards: why prevent the player from finding patterns? But the fact of the matter is, the real world is never perfectly straightforward. It makes sense, yes, but you need to try to make sense of it. Something that's perfect and simple is perceived as being artificial, whereas certain kinds of imperfections and complexity seem to indicate an underlying reality.

The player should never get the sense that the non-player characters exist for his benefit. A character who stands around dispensing information on request is a massive gaping hole in the illusion. The same goes for NPCs who perfectly repeat their statements or actions indefinitely. But when an NPC acts in a way that does not serve the game in a clear way, that enhances the illusion. Including characters who don't want to be bothered and won't help you get anything is clearly not an efficient way to write a game, but that's exactly why it'll work. An NPC who interrupts you or hinders your progress in some small way is an even better method. Reality means messiness. You can't create the illusion of reality if you're not willing to be wasteful sometimes. I'll deal with this idea more in the next post.

It is not exactly wrong to use voice acting and animations to increase realism, but it is problematic. When you make an animated movie, you get the timing just right so that everything looks natural. But in a game, the player has a lot of control over the timing. Also, any given node may be arrived at from several different directions due to the necessity of tying branching paths together. So the animators and actors can't ever know the exact context their work will be seen in. The more detail you try to put into those features, the more those little imperfections will be noticed. These are not huge problems, because most players will choose to overlook the problem in order to be better fooled. But personally, I'm choosing to rely on static images and text wherever possible. The player can imagine a world between the images, and I'm not going to risk breaking that with specific transitions. But the cinematic approach has its merits, and I wouldn't begrudge a gamist who chose to go that route.

5. Depth, Length, Presentation (One has to go.)

(2011, January 13th)

5. Depth, Length, Presentation (One has to go.)

(2011, January 13th)

When I first started writing the script for Gamer Mom, the concept of a realistic character-based adventure seemed so obvious that I wondered why no one had done it. I quickly found my answer. You see, human beings are complicated. To mimic them convincingly amounts to countless hours of hard work. There's no way around it. You can cheat sometimes, to let yourself have less work, but it feels like a cheat to the player. It hurts the reality of the experience. If you provide only one option when the characterization realistically calls for three, you might as well be making a movie rather than an adventure because you're wasting the potential of the medium. (I've played way too many adventures where I wonder if the story was envisioned as a game or a film.) If you're doing the job properly, the game just gets more and more complex exponentially, until it gets completely out of hand. You can tie branches together sometimes, but if you do it too often the player (rightly) gets the impression that nothing he does matters. So you just have to follow the ideas wherever they go, regardless of how much work this leaves you with. Why hasn't a realistic character-driven adventure been made before? Because it's frigging hard, that's why! It's a struggle just to release a slightly-interactive film with "Where's Waldo?" segments, let alone a true adventure game.

So what's usually done is to limit the player's options. As much as gamists like to talk about branching paths and giving the player control of the story's progression, every player who finishes a game will usually be seeing at least 80% of what's been put in. Interactivity often has no impact whatsoever, or only controls what order you experience things in. Now, a good or even great adventure game can be made under these restrictions. But it needs to be a part of the premise of the game. Gamists should not expect their players to be stupid- if the player has no control over the plot, it is only a matter of time until the player feels like he has no control over the plot. And that then becomes an integral part of the story he's experiencing, whether the gamist intended it or not. So the gamist should intend it. By all means, tell a story about a character who is not in control. Tell a story about a person who has things happen to him rather than ever being proactive. The problem is only when there is a situation where the character realistically ought to do something, but won't. A lack of interactivity breaks the reality of the game, unless the reality of the story is built around hopelessness from the start. The story can be about someone with minimal intelligence or willpower being led around, or it can be about a person obsessed with routines, or it can be about mundane things that don't matter. But as soon as the story gets more ambitious than that in its characterization, the writer has himself a problem.

I can understand why such an approach is taken, of course. If you put in work, you want for that work to be seen. You don't want a player to only see 10% of what you've done. But you should want that. If the player only gets 10% of the content, he's earned that content. He's gotten the 10% that he chose himself, and feels like he's been the character for however long you've let him play. He'll have regrets over what he didn't do, and pride in what he did, and everything which you'd realistically have if you stepped into another person's shoes for a day. But if you show everything without being prompted to, then very little of that is going to feel earned. The player will feel that he has watched a good story, perhaps, but not that he experienced one. A good interactive storyteller (in any Form) needs to be willing to let his work go unseen, or else the experience will feel impersonal.

A better way to deal with the exponential-scale problem is to limit games to several minutes in length. I have finished the script for Gamer Mom all by myself, because I specifically chose a very short and simple story as its subject. Granted, it took me over five months, but if I had approached it as a full-time job I'm sure I would have been done much sooner. The script does not skimp on depth, because no matter how you play it won't go for very long. A player could load the game, play for two minutes, reach an ending, and leave. He will have seen maybe 1% of the game, but this is an acceptable scenario for me. Whatever ending he reaches is his ending. The story is complete no matter how he's played, it just won't be the same story that another person playing the game will get. But each player, oblivious to the depth of the game, will feel that they've just experienced a real-world situation, because that's how the real world is. You don't see everything. You get to one ending, and then you move on. There are all sorts of nuances to the characters and plot of Gamer Mom which I fully expect that only a tiny fraction of players will ever see, including an entire extra scene at the end. This is by design. If you reach those branches, they'll mean more to you.

Of course, when you embrace depth there's a problem with the workload for the artists. I'm continually concerned that Kyler will back out from drawing the game, worried about how much effort it'll take to turn this 34-page script -with around 600 nodes, I'd estimate- into graphics. I've assured him that he can reuse images as much as he sees fit, but it's still a lot of work. When I'm making bigger projects (with less depth, of course- there will always be a trade-off) I may have a budget, and I'll be able to pay artists for their time and effort. But Kyler is entirely volunteering, like I do in acting, and as much as I trust Kyler I couldn't exactly blame him for getting scared off.

Let's imagine an adventure gamist who knew what he was doing running a massive adventure game company, with the resources to combine length and depth. Another option then presents itself. If one writer cannot do justice to a reasonably-ambitious story, maybe fifty writers can! I envision a hierarchy. One or two people at the top ("editors") come up with the story in broad strokes, and continue to shape it throughout the writing process. Then there are lead writers, who have regular meetings to share their ideas and progress and make sure that everyone is on the same page. They write the critical scenes where the player makes major decisions, and then follow those decisions to their logical conclusions from scene to scene. The lead writers would work in collaboration with each other whenever they reach scenes dealing with plot threads developed by more than one writer. The editors would read through all of the lead writers' incomplete work (written strictly in the playing order, to minimize the risk of having to throw out large quantities of script when changes are made), and decide which branches can serve the larger story and which are dead ends. They then assign innumerable minor scenes to junior writers to connect the major scenes together, with instructions to either come up with reasonable ways of tying the branches into other branches, or follow through on a thought without allowing too many new branches to be created.

In this model, the presentation of the story must be limited. The more detailed the graphics and sound, the more man-hours are required for each line of script. (And by this point the page count would number in the thousands!) With photorealistic worlds and motion-captured animations and detailed sound effects and voice acting and whatever other frills we see in modern games, the required team size (and budget!) would quickly outstrip Hollywood movies. So the presentation must be abstract, and simple. A certain amount of prose is acceptable; animation is not. Sound and music should be kept to a bare minimum. Ideally there should be writers with an understanding of design principles, whose entire job is to read through the script, and write a more detailed script with complete directions for how it should be presented.

I am not qualified to propose a business model for this approach to adventures. But I have faith that some crafty capitalist will figure it out, and someday we'll have adventure games which live up to all the promise of the Form.


2010, September 13th, 11:08 and 1 second

Living In Creation

I just listened to a concert on the radio of a new concerto by my old composition teacher, Eliezer Elper. (He sent out the link to what seems like everyone in his address book, and I'm thankful that that includes me.) It's made of lots of little musical ideas that are all struggling for dominance, or if not dominance then at least recognition. At first it seems like they're all being played on top of each other, even though they've got different time signatures and keys and even musical genres. It's overwhelming, and when the piece started I wondered how on Earth he managed to write it, having to keep all these different ideas in his head at the same time and not letting any one theme grab his attention away from the others. It must have taken him an awfully long time, that's for sure. As the concerto moves on the themes become more isolated in their repetitions, so that finally I felt like I could comprehend what was going on, but just as you're getting comfortable with one particular style another one butts in and demands your attention. It's exhausting to listen to, though it's worth the effort because each motif is quite fun in its own way. When the concert ended, I wanted to listen again. I felt like there were all these different places in it, each one big enough to live in. But I was being pulled through this journey so fast (though it is thirty minutes long) that I couldn't really get comfortable in any one place. Unfortunately the concert was the world premiere, so there's not any opportunity to buy a CD with the music and listen over and over. But I'd like to do that.

But maybe that's not enough. Often as I'm listening to a concert, I feel like only the perfomers on the stage are getting the real experience. As long as I'm not right there flowing along with the music, I'm practically hearing about the music rather than hearing the music itself. Music is an interactive medium. You're aiming to entertain an audience, but in a way the audience is almost irrelevant. This concerto wasn't born tonight, it already lived in the minds of the performers who've been working on playing it. We're only getting a small taste, and I'm left wanting more. All these ideas bouncing against each other are like in-jokes, engaging to those in the know but only leaving a (relatively) vague impression of "There was something here." to those outside the club.

I am not (nor do I intend to ever be) a composer who deserves to be mentioned in the same sentence as Eliezer Elper, and I am not (nor do I intend to ever be) a pianist worthy of playing compositions such as this. And yet, I feel a need to do something, to have some sort of experience someday which compares to what it must be like to play this composition. I am reminded of my old idea "Exploring a landscape of improvised music": if I could wander around through this piece in the form of an exploration game, I could get to know each individual place and some personal level of understanding of the entire composition. No one is creating anything like that, so I suppose it falls on me to work an idea along those lines into my own work at some point. Possibly Through the Wind could have an element of musical exploration to it.

But that is a tremendous amount of work. It's always harder than I think, and with something ambitious enough to even be asking these questions I can't even conceive of how hard and complicated the job will be. I'm quite certain that Eliezer doesn't waste his time like I do. If he did, how could he ever complete a composition such as I've just heard? And here I'm talking, not just about finding some musical interest, but doing it in the midst of one of my five games! For Through the Wind I also need to worry about making sure the controls are perfect, and the world design, and figuring out how to be expressive through the interactivity of a platformer, and crafting three different levels of challenge. And on top of that now I'm thinking that there ought to be a branching path in the music here or there, so that the player can feel greater ownership over the progression.

I think the solution will be to make the creation process complex enough to live in, and then cast aside all other activities. I can make my own little metalude of ideas out of the creation process itself! Right now, my games are still simple proofs of concept, and the creation process is linear. I come up with an idea, then I build on that idea, the idea faces obstacles so I find ways to pass them, and eventually I reach a point where the idea has been expressed (not that anyone in the audience will really experience it as I did in my head) and I can stop. A very straightforward, old-fashioned progression. My game-creating should be more like Eliezer's concerto: at first there are lots of ideas and it seems overwhelming, but then I let each idea speak to me before switching to a new one, and back and forth and back and forth. Controls are interrupted by music, and music argues with world design, and then controls and music and world design and programming all come together to express some greater idea which occurs to me as I go. I've experienced gaming as a replacement for life, but I'm going to need to make gamism a replacement for life. That's where I'm headed.


five comments, the last one being from myself
Blogger Kyler said:

Little Social Games was a pleasure to play through. Though it didn't feel to much like a game that had a distinct goal. It felt more like I was exploring your thoughts.

The difference is that I wasn't searching for the best outcome, though I was making note of which outcomes were preferred. I was exploring in the sense that I was driven to go through every single outcome and see it. I was going to go through every path to see what was there, just like exploring a level of Riven, or StarShip Titanic.

I guess if there was a means for me to keep track of which options I thought were the best, and to keep track of things that I was thinking about, I would also be exploring my thought processes and how they compare to yours.

I actually feel like all the different stories that played out, actually did play out in the story, none of them feel like the one true outcome.

Blogger Kyler said:

When I first read uninhibited sociopath, I actually thought of first person shooters, though I guess they are more like uninhibited psychopath characters.

It's very interesting to think about the character that a game forces you to become, or at least attempts to make you become.

I remember listening to Half-life 2 in game commentary. They often discussed how they were trying to make the player feel like a film action hero. The creators of Fable were always talking about making you feel like the hero.

There is such a huge range of characters that video games never try to guide you into, and others that are used all of the time.

 Mory said:

In first-person shooters everything you see is an opportunity to shoot things. There is absolutely nothing he will ever think to do other than shoot, regardless of the situation. The adventure game's Uninhibited Sociopath character is similarly insane, but more creative: there is almost nothing he will not do, and almost no situation he will not do it in. There is absolutely no reason to smush together two inventory items and then present the combination to a random stranger on the street. Maybe doing that will only yield a "I don't know what to make of that." from the NPC, but the fact that the character will even try communicates a lot about who we're playing. Pick a verb and pick an object, and you've come up with something that seems perfectly normal in the context of an adventure game. When focusing on a character to whom that makes sense, how can you tell a good story? And if you can't tell a good story, then what is the point of the game?

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

After reading "Separating Intent From Actions" I think you've described a large part of the Sims interface. All the Sims are their own little people with hopes, dreams, and goals. They'll go around and try to accomplish those (or possibly just be lazy) if you let them. Or you can suggest they go do something else. Something that may or may not end up making them happy, or they may or may not succeed at. If you tell them to make dinner they may end up setting the kitchen on fire. Or breaking down an crying if they are too tired.

How do you feel about the Sims?

 Mory said:

Huh, I didn't think of that. You're right, though: almost everything I'm describing in the third post is implemented in The Sims.

To answer your question, I love The Sims 2. I've had some great times with that game.

I don't think Gamer Mom is seriously going to be compared to The Sims by anyone, though. The two experiences are very different on a more fundamental level. In an adventure game you're experiencing the world from within this limited character, while in The Sims you're experiencing the world from the outside. You will note that in The Sims a character acts on his own not because it is instinctual or subconscious but just because the character has decided not to wait around for orders. That's the dynamic between player and character: not free will and personality, but owner and doll. When the player does give an order, the character will act on it immediately even if he has no realistic reason to. The characterization (which is simple, but present) can be broken continually, by the fact that the player is ultimately in charge. So while a lot of the design is similar to what I'm suggesting for adventure games (and I see no reason why a fine adventure couldn't be made with a similar interface), the basic idea behind it is quite different. In The Sims you are not experiencing a life. You are managing it.

Or to put it more simply: Both The Sims and Gamer Mom deal with semi-ordinary life, but they are different Forms. The Sims is a strategy game, and Gamer Mom is an adventure.

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2010, September 2nd, 2:19 and 9 seconds

Performance reviews for September 2010


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2010, September 2nd, 2:07 and 46 seconds

Little Social Games

This whole linear-time thing seems overly restrictive. You only get to go through each situation once, and you'll never know if you unlocked everything or not. (But here's a hint: no you did not.) I have regrets after every conversation I ever have, every interaction, every decision, every time I decide to walk this way instead of that way because I think it'll save time. And as I'm in whatever situation I'm in, I already know I'm going to regret what I'm doing, and there's nothing I can do about it. Because the regrets aren't actually coming from me having messed up, they're coming from me not knowing if I messed up. Maybe I did, maybe there was more I could have gotten out of that moment in time. But maybe I didn't, maybe my instincts were right on the money, maybe if I'd tried to act differently it would have turned out worse. What I need is a rewind button, so that I can try anything and take it back afterward. It's a pity nothing like that exists.





I'm on a mostly-empty bus coming back from a very upsetting play rehearsal, having decided to leave the cast not twenty minutes ago. I need to talk to someone, anyone, doesn't matter who. The only real cure for unhappiness is socializing, that's what I've found. Not even about what's bothering me, just socializing about anything. In front of me there are three girls, speaking in American English. I'm close enough to hear every word of their conversation, whose content tells me they're religious Jews, but I'm far enough away that I'd need to get up and sit closer to say anything to them. Two of the girls get off the bus, while the third stays. There's a good fifteen minutes left before the bus reaches the central bus station and I have to get off. Enough time to say hello. Why does no one say hello on buses? If some stranger said hello to me, would I mind?

No, but most people aren't like me. Most people won't accept anything out of the ordinary.
This excess of privacy isn't helping society at all. Someone ought to break it down a bit. Why not me?
A strange guy (in every sense of the word "strange") going over to a woman he's never met just to talk to her? That's creepy and offensive.
If I don't get to know people on buses, where will I get to know people? Sitting at my computer? Or maybe in the play I'm about to quit?

There was that one time an old Indian guy started having a conversation with me about random things. That was nice, I liked that. But most people like to be left alone. Most people are antisocial. I've got to be antisocial if I want to fit into society. Why am I bothering to fit into society, again?

Because the alternative is to make a fool of myself.
If I'm not going to follow the rules of society, how can I expect members of society to put up with me?
I don't think I'm capable of answering these questions.

Let's say I go over there. Then what? I don't know what happens next! What if I totally humiliate myself? This day has been pretty lousy already, I don't need to make it worse.

I'll just sit here and mind my own business.
Maybe I could get her to make the first move.

I look out the window, seeing lots of people I'll never actually meet. I try to imagine where all this is going, but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I'm not ever going to meet anyone new. Those people I met in school, and disliked, and lost touch with, are the only people I get to have in my life. But look on the bright side: no one's ever going to have to put up with me.

I put my script face up on the seat next to me. Maybe she'll notice- no, this is ridiculous. She's not even facing me, she'll never see a script and ask "Oh, are you in a play?". Maybe I could, um, no. I can't conceive of a reason she'd talk to me.

That girl is probably normal, and me... well, there's no getting around it, I'm not the sort of person whose existence people want to know about. If I want to get something out of these people, like casual chit-chat or something like that, I have to stand out less.

How the heck can I get someone's attention without standing out at all?
I'd probably hate her if I actually got to know her.

I pick up my script, get out of my seat, and start pacing around the mostly-empty bus for no apparent reason. The idea is that after a few minutes, the lady in front of me will have tuned me out, and I'll be able to "randomly" stop next to her and say hello. So I keep going for a while -how long, I can't say, because the fact that at first everyone on the bus is paying attention to me while I'm trying to look like I don't notice skews my perception of time. And finally I stop next to that young lady, and as planned she tunes me out. "Hello.", I say. "Hello.", she says uncertainly. "My name's Mory.", I say, and she responds, "O-kay?". I then resume my pacing until it's time to get off the bus.

She hasn't done anything to suggest that I'd be at all interested in her. She's just there, and she speaks English, and she's religious, and these are not enough qualities to suggest I'd even tolerate her. I do really want to talk to someone, but chances are she's not the someone I'm hoping for. So why waste my time?

I'm starting to get uncomfortable talking to myself. It's clear I'm not going to be convinced of the logic in sitting still. But it's equally clear that I am not going to start talking to a random stranger who just happened to be sitting near me. So I'm at an impasse.

Stop thinking about this. It's silly.
Maybe I can involve her in these questions.

I get up, and pick another seat farther away which faces away from this lady. There's no sense in staring at her if it's just going to make me unhappy.

I get up, walk over to the girl, and say "Excuse me, I was just wondering about something. So I'll just ask this and then I'll leave you alone. I don't know you at all, but if I said 'Hello.', would it be really weird? Seeing as how, y'know, I don't know you at all. I've been thinking about it, and I'm not sure.".
She responds: "That's kind of weird. But hello."
"Oh. Hello, then. That's all I wanted to know." And I return to my seat.

I get up, and walk over to this girl who I've never met.

Ask for permission.
Tell her what I'm going for.
Forget the introductions, just talk.

"Would you mind if I sat closer to you?"
She looks very uncomfortable. "Why?"

Leave her alone, she's not interested.
Keep trying.

"Oh, no reason. Never mind."
Wow that was awkward. I go to the opposite side of the bus and hope she forgets about me quickly.

"Because I'd like to talk to someone, and you're here, and I heard you talking English, and I can't talk to you from over there."
"Sorry, I don't feel like talking."
Well, I tried.

"I've always thought it's weird that nobody says hello to each other on buses, and I don't know you but I heard you speaking English so I thought I'd come over and say hello because if some stranger said hello to me on a bus I'd find that interesting, but if it bothers you I can just leave."
She's looking at me like I'm from another planet, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Introduce myself.
Wait to see how she responds.

"I'm Mory, by the way. I make computer games and compose music and sometimes act though I'm just coming back now from the rehearsal of a play that I'm going to be quitting from."
"Oh. Okay."
I can see I'm intimidating her, so I leave her alone.

I wait for her to get over the weirdness of this encounter. Finally she introduces herself, and I introduce myself, and we have a pleasant little chat.

"Are you interested in computer games?"
"What? No."

Maybe some other topic...?
Abort.

"Are you interested in TV shows, then? Or comic books? Maybe blogs?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"To see if there's anything to have a conversation with you about."
"Why do you want to have a conversation with me?"
"Why not?"
"I don't want to have a conversation with you."
"Okay. Sorry to bother you, then."

"Okay. Just thought I'd ask."
I take a seat somewhere where I won't see her.

There's got to be a way to say hello without it being some kind of harassment. I just need to figure out what that is.

Make it clear that I'm not flirting.
Downplay my need for a conversation.
Don't even get up to talk. Yeah, she's sitting kind of far away, but if I get up it's not casual anymore.

I walk over. "Hi. I'm Mory. I just wanted to talk because I heard you speaking English with your friends, it's not like I think you're pretty." (By the way, she actually isn't very pretty.) "This isn't meant as a pick-up line or anything like that, I just wondered if you'd be interested in a casual conversation."
"No."

Maybe she doesn't understand me.
Exit as gracefully as possible.

"I just mean, y'know, me sitting down here and the two of us talking."
"I'm not interested. Go away."
Hmph. If I were her, I would have said yes there. Oh well.

"Okay, I understand. I knew this would be kind of weird, because people don't do this sort of thing often. Bye."

I walk over. "Hello. I'm Mory. I was just a little bit bored, and I heard you talking in English, so I thought I'd see if you wanted to chat, but it's totally okay if you don't want to. It was just a random thought I had, I don't mind at all if you don't want to talk to me."
"No, sure, if you want to."

Tell her about my day.
Let her pick the topic of conversation, so that it doesn't seem to be about me needing to talk.

"I'm just coming from a really lousy first rehearsal for a play that I was supposed to be in, but I'm going to quit."
She doesn't seem particularly interested in any of this. But she asks why I'm quitting, so I sit down and tell her. She doesn't actively tell me to leave at any point. I think that's a good sign.

I sit down. "So...", I begin, "is there anything you want to talk about?"
Ouch, that was terrible.
"No. You asked to talk."
"Oh. Right. Um."
Good start! Good start.

I stay in my seat and yell over, "Hello! Do you live in Jerusalem?".
She spins around to see who's yelling at her. "What?"
"I said hello! My name's Mory. Do you live here?"
"Yes!"

Try to get closer.
Stay here and try to keep her talking.

"Do you mind if I sit over there?"
"Why?"
"Because it's annoying to yell across!"
"You can sit wherever you like!"
I move over and quickly discover that she really didn't want me coming any closer, but just didn't want to be rude. But I'm closer now and she's aware of my existence. And that's a start, no? When she talks to me, it's in a nervous tone like she doesn't have anything to say to me but she feels guilty because she already sort of agreed to the conversation without realizing it at the time. But hey, it's a conversation. I'll take it.

"Where are you going?", I ask.
She takes a moment to get over her surprise that someone was yelling at her, then answers the question, and I ask a follow-up question, and as soon as she starts to answer I say "Just a minute, I'm going to sit over there.", because suddenly I have a good excuse. We talk until the bus reaches my stop.

Look, I really need to talk to someone right now. So all this worrying isn't helping me. I get up and walk over to this girl I've never met.

Explain why I need to talk.
Introduce myself.
Exaggerate my problem with Hebrew.

"Hi. I'm just coming back from a really miserable rehearsal of a play; I thought I had an okay part but it turns out there's nothing to this part at all. So when I get home in Beit Shemesh I'll call them and tell them I quit the play, but for now I'm kind of miserable and lonely and it's a pretty empty bus but I heard you speaking in English so I thought maybe you'd talk to me...?"
She pauses for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

She didn't want to hear that much.
Just answer the question straight.

I deadpan: "Just a random stranger on a bus. Hello." I hope that came out charming, as opposed to creepy.
Nope, according to her expression it was just creepy. Darn.
"I'll leave you alone now." And I do.

"I'm Mory Buckman. I make computer games and compose music. I have Asperger's Syndrome, which is my excuse for why I'm acting so weird right now. I live in Beit Shemesh and I was just here in Jerusalem to go to this rehearsal. Would you be interested in talking?"
"No, sorry." She tries to give me her best sympathetic face, but it comes out looking more horrified than anything.
"Oh. Right. I didn't think you would. Okay, bye."

I stand proudly and say "I am Mory Buckman. We've never met before. I'd like to talk with someone, and you're here. I'm a very strange person, but I... um, no, there's no end to that sentence. I'm a very strange person."

Oy, that was bad.
Never mind, just keep going.

"You probably don't want to talk to... this was a bad idea. Sorry."
I take a few steps away slowly, hoping she'll stop me and say "No, wait. I'll talk with you.". But she doesn't. So I go back to my seat.

I continue, trying not to call any extra attention to my blunder. "..but if you wouldn't mind chatting, I'd appreciate it."
She's not sure whether to react with pity or bemusement. Eventually she settles on something between the two. "Okay."
So we talk. But it doesn't really make me feel any better. She's polite, but she's also treating me as an inferior, and that's just exacerbating the damage the rehearsal has done to my ego. I didn't need to do this to myself.

"Hello. I'm kind of hopeless when talking with Hebrew, and I'm just a lot more comfortable talking in English, and I heard you talking in English to your friends and it just seemed like an oasis of comprehension. And I kind of need that right now."
She jumps up, taken by surprise. "What?"

Maybe I should say that again. She wasn't listening the first time.
What exactly am I talking about? My Hebrew is fine.

"It's just like an oasis of comprehension in a sea of Hebrew speakers. I mean, a desert of Hebrew speakers."
"There are a lot of English speakers in Jerusalem."
"Oh, yeah. I guess I just don't know them."
"Who are you?"
"Oh, right. I'm... um. No one. Sorry."

"I mean, it's not like I really can't speak Hebrew at all. I've been living in Israel for 15 years. But it's just that I'm in a lousy mood right now and an English speaker... you know what, I really can't remember why I felt I needed to talk to you. Sorry."
And I go back to my seat.





Moshe is over, playing Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney on the Wii. I downloaded and installed the game specifically for him because I knew he'd like it, and because I suspected a DS emulator wouldn't run on his computers. Myself, I played through the game a few years ago together with Eliav. It is a really good game. Moshe's been at it for a good five hours, hopelessly addicted to its twist-filled murder-mystery storytelling. Sometimes he figures out what's going on long before he's expected to, and sometimes he gets stuck and I need to help him out. (When I do, he takes the credit for solving the puzzle.) Avri has just come over. He's got a lot of free time while Lorien and the kids are in Canada, and I really want him to play Metroid Prime 2, at least as far as Torvus Bog. Avri comments that Phoenix Wright looks like Snatcher, and takes a seat.

It doesn't have to be really awkward that they're both here.
It'll probably be really awkward that they're both here.
There will be time for these games later. Right now we can do something else.
I'd like to take this social puzzle a bit more seriously. There's got to be a good solution here somewhere.

Avri suggests that we play a three-player game. Every game he suggests, Moshe shoots down. Moshe certainly might enjoy any of those games, but he's hoping I'll let him keep playing Phoenix Wright.

I'm actually happy that Moshe's not cooperating. I don't really want to play any multiplayer games with both of them.
Avri's right, though- multiplayer is the most sensible option.
I could just let Moshe have what he wants. I told Avri about Phoenix Wright a long time ago, but I never remembered to give him the emulator.

I grab the controller out of Moshe's hand and save the game. We'll be playing Metroid Prime 2 now.

Don't worry about Moshe, he'll be fine.
Find something else for Moshe to do.

Avri and I start playing, and Moshe sits on the side waiting for an opportunity to be a part of the group. Unfortunately he has no experience with Metroid, and even less interest. So many of his comments fall into the category of "This again? What a stupid game!". He thinks he's just following Avri's, since Avri mocks each plot development with the glee of a long-time gamer who's seen it all before. But from Moshe there's a heavily implied "Phoenix Wright is so much cooler, you should let me play that instead of watching this!", which just makes it annoying. Occasionally he gets more creative and throws out a random South African racist quip, because those are appropriate for any situation. And sometimes he can't think of anything to say but says something anyway. That gets really weird sometimes. I was wrong to think this could work.

If Moshe's going to be sticking around without playing, I ought to at least keep him from being bored. So I turn on my malfunctioning computer and pray it'll boot up. When it does, I tell Moshe that he should watch the first episode of Doctor Who on my computer while Avri and I play Metroid. I need to pull him kicking and screaming to get him into the chair, but eventually he watches the episode and probably even enjoys it (though he'll never tell me that). Every minute or so he comments out loud about what's going on in the episode, as though we were watching it with him, but that's easy enough to just respond to and move on. It's hard to say with Moshe, but I think all three of us have a good time.

"Moshe, it's not nice to just play something yourself when there's someone else here. We'll play a multiplayer game." He continues to object quite vocally, so I ignore him.

Find a multiplayer game that both of them will enjoy.
Put in a game that Avri and I are likely to enjoy. Moshe will just have to put up with it.

Hmm. I try to come up with something they'll both like, but nothing comes to mind. I look through my collection, and I'm not seeing anything that fits. What could we possibly play, that Moshe wouldn't dislike when having to leave Phoenix Wright for it? That game may exist, but I don't own it. We go in circles for a few minutes arguing, and then I give up and go with Metroid Prime 2 as I wanted to from the start. Avri plays, I watch, Moshe criticizes bitterly.

Come to think of it, I could go for a few levels of Super Monkey Ball. So I put in the disc, pass around the controllers, force one into Moshe's hand as he acts like it's toxic, and we're off. Half the time is spent rolling around and having fun, half the time is spent listening to Moshe whine. So we switch to Tetris, which Moshe protests to even more strongly. Eventually Avri is driven off by the negativity, and Moshe gets to go back to Phoenix Wright so he's happy.

I let Moshe keep playing. Avri acts like he's not bored by this, but who am I kidding- he's bored by this. He should be playing this game, not watching.

Let Avri play a little bit from the beginning of the game.
Just let Moshe keep going. The story is good, so maybe Avri will get into it.

I start a new file for Avri to play. The beginning is very tutorial-ish and slow, and it's tedious for Moshe to watch, especially since he just played that chapter a few days ago. Avri himself doesn't seem particularly enthralled. Like I said, it's a tutorial. It's what you sit through to get to the better parts. So fifteen minutes in, I suggest that we skip to the second chapter. But Avri decides to just keep going. Moshe isn't bored, exactly, but he doesn't know what to do with himself because he can't talk about the case without spoiling anything. By now Avri seems to be enjoying the game a little, though maybe not so much because all the really good plots come later. I may be doing a disservice to the game by presenting it in this context.

As Moshe keeps playing, I describe the plot so far to Avri so that he understands what's going on. He gives advice to Moshe as he plays, and it turns out being a lot more engaging for everyone than I anticipated. Between the three of us, we're speeding through the puzzles and getting really caught up in the plot. Forget Metroid Prime 2; this is really fun!

This situation is not ideal. Moshe wants Phoenix Wright, I want Metroid Prime 2, and Avri should have what to do.

Moshe has to go.
I'll give Moshe enough time to finish this chapter, and then he'll go.
I kind of feel sorry for Moshe, who seems really bored with his life. I can let him have this.

I really would like to spend some time with Avri. Moshe has been here for hours already; I should be able to get rid of him.

Ask Moshe to leave.
Tell Moshe to leave.

I have no idea how to word this. Well, let's give it a go. "Moshe, you've been here for hours already and I want to show Avri a game you won't be interested in. You can go home, if you don't want to just sit around. It'll probably be pretty boring for you." But no, he wants to stay. Whatever's going on here, it can't be more boring than what he'd be doing at home. So I practically need to pin him down to get the remote out of his hand. I put in Metroid Prime 2, and Moshe stays mostly silent because he doesn't want me to kick him out.

"Moshe, you should go home."

"No."

"Moshe, you've been here for hours already. You won't enjoy sitting around here watching us play. You can come back tomorrow and keep playing Phoenix Wright, okay?"

"I don't need to go home yet."

I pause, trying to think of how to be more forceful without being really rude. Avri interjects: "If this is a bad time, I can go home."

"No. No, I want to show you Metroid Prime 2. It's one of my favorite games. Moshe, c'mon. Go home."

It takes another thirty seconds or so, thirty very awkward seconds, for Moshe to finally get up. He acts very insulted, of course, but I know he'll be back eventually. He wants to know how the chapter ends, after all. He'll get over this.

Avri seems to be a bit uncomfortable about having caused this, but I get him to play Metroid Prime 2 and I have a good time.

"Look, we're in the middle of a game right now. We'll be finished with this chapter very soon, and then you can play on the Wii. Why don't you come back in a half hour or so?" (That'll give me time to get Moshe out.)

"I don't mind watching."

Darn. That'll make it harder to get Moshe to leave.

This is fine.
Insist that Avri come back in a half hour.

Moshe finishes up this section of Phoenix Wright, and as he plays I fill Avri in on what's been going on so far. Then he finishes the section and he thinks he can continue. "No, Moshe. You can go home now, the two of us are going to be using the Wii." But he doesn't stop playing until I press the power button on the Wii. And even then, he refuses to leave. By this point Avri thinks it's too late to start a big game, so we play a level of Super Mario Bros. with Moshe whining the whole time. And then Avri leaves. Bleh. But Moshe's happy, because this means he can go right back to Phoenix Wright. I do like Phoenix Wright, but I was kind of hoping to get Avri to play something.

"I'd like to just finish up here, and then Moshe will leave and you've got the TV all to yourself. Okay? Just go home for a half hour, and then come back."

Avri goes back home (which is next door). Twenty minutes later we finish the section in Phoenix Wright, and though Moshe begs to keep going I tell him he has to leave. So we talk a bit as we walk downstairs, and then he leaves amicably.

I wait around. It's been a half hour since Avri left, he'll be back in a minute. 35 minutes now. 45 minutes. Finally I go next door to see what the problem is. He says it's too late now to start a game. So I go back home.

I spend the rest of the night replaying Metroid Prime 2 by myself. It's a great game, to be sure.

"Avri, um. We're kind of in the middle of a game right now. Moshe doesn't come over very often, and I'd like to let him keep playing. It's just not a very good time, right now."

"Oh."

Invite him to stick around anyway.
Say goodbye.

"Would you like to stay and watch?"

"No, I guess I'll go."

And so he does. It may be a while before he comes back.

"Sorry. You could come tomorrow, maybe?"

"I don't know, I'll see whether I have time tomorrow."

"Oh. Sorry. I do want to show you Metroid Prime 2 at some point."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"Okay."

"You know what, I think we should do something with all three of us. It would just be weird if one person were playing and the other two were sitting around. With just me and Moshe or me and Avri it could make sense, but I don't know about all three of us. So let's go do something else."

Moshe protests. "I want to keep playing."

"No, come on. You can finish that game later. We'll do something else now."

It takes a bit more work to calm Moshe down, but finally the game is saved and both of them are waiting to see what I had in mind. I don't have anything in mind.

We could play board games at Avri's house.
We could watch Doctor Who!
We could sit around and talk.

"I don't really have many games for three players. That's more your thing. Why don't we go over to your house and play something there?"

"I guess we could, but I wanted to play something on the Wii."

"Yeah, but Moshe's here so I'd rather do something together."

"Why don't we play a three-player game on the Wii?"

"Because they get old quickly. Come on, you've got all the games!"

We go to Avri's house.

Teach Moshe a really good game.
Teach Moshe a game that won't scare him off.

"Power Struggle!", I yell out gleefully. That's a great game, but heavy- it takes a very long time to explain, and Moshe puts on a big show of not understanding a thing so it takes even longer than it normally would. Don't ask me how long it's been, exactly- it feels like it could have been two hours to explain it, but I know that's not right and I haven't been checking my watch. Anyway, we play the game and Avri and I are taking it seriously but Moshe keeps whining that he doesn't understand a thing. Well, of course he doesn't understand a thing- he ignored the entire explanation! "I just want to go back and play Phoenix Wright", he says. What a shocker. After the game, which Avri won, we go back home. Avri stays at his house.

"Let's play a simple game -maybe Coloretto?", I suggest. So we play Coloretto, a very simple game. And Moshe keeps saying it seems like a dumb game, but we get through the rules quickly and play. The game lasts just a few minutes, and Moshe wins. He says he hates the game and wants to go back and play Phoenix Wright. Maybe he'd like Ticket to Ride, that involves more management -no, he insists we go.

"No, let's just play Ticket to Ride. You'll like it."

So we play Ticket to Ride, with Moshe complaining the entire time that the game isn't interesting. He does reasonably well, but you'd never guess from hearing how he carries on about how bad he is at the game. And when we're done he says that he's put up with all these terrible games I've forced upon him so now I have to let him play Phoenix Wright. Fine, we'll play Phoenix Wright. Moshe runs back to my house joyfully, and I follow. Avri stays at his house.

I've been trying to get both of them (separately) to watch this season of Doctor Who. Since they're both here, this seems like an excellent opportunity to get them both to watch the first episode. I propose the idea, and neither of them is at all enthusiastic. But what do they know?- they haven't seen it. I turn on my malfunctioning computer and pray it'll boot up. It does.

Moshe resumes playing Phoenix Wright, apparently hoping I'll forget about him.

It'll be fun if they're both with me.
Eah, let him play. It's not worth the effort.

I drag Moshe out of his seat, and sit him down by the computer. He gives me his best impression of a sad puppy. I choose to ignore it. We all watch the first episode of season 5 of Doctor Who, and I have lots of fun.

I unplug the Wii's audio cable, turn on my computer's speakers, and start playing the first episode of season 5 of Doctor Who. Avri and I watch, and Moshe keeps playing. Moshe's half-watching too, because it's a great episode and he can't help but notice how much is going on in it. He doesn't get too far in Phoenix Wright while we're watching. It's a nice, fun little evening.

"Um."

What on Earth can I talk about with both of them?

The Israel Museum?
Gamer Mom?

"So I went to the Israel Museum yesterday. It was very nice. There's a new entrance." And to neither of them in particular: "Do you like the Israel Museum?" But neither of them goes to museums much. "One of my favorite parts of the exhibit was off in the corner, where you might totally miss it. Over in the corner out of the way there was a window, and inside the window was an animatronic bird, the most realistic animatronic I've ever seen, because it had real feathers, and it looked like it had just crashed into the window. So it's just in this loop, this twenty minute loop of what the plaque next to it called 'death spasms'. Just these little twitches, like it's trying to get up and failing, and the plaque said that it was specifically put in the corner because it was 'playing with the public space' or something like that."

They both seem to be listening to me, at least. That's something. So I keep going. There's really no place for either of them to jump in here, it's just me babbling on and on about things I found interesting, but at least I don't need to deal with the bigger issue of how to entertain both of them at once. Talking is nice, casual. You can't object to talking. I can only keep this up for a few more minutes, at most. Blah. Then what?

Uh oh, Moshe's reaching out for the controller. I hastily blurt out: "Moshe, what have you been up to lately?" Smooth, Mory. Smooth. "Nothing.", he replies honestly. This isn't working. Fine, back to the original plan.

I kick Moshe off, put in Metroid Prime 2, and have Avri start playing. Talking was a waste of time. On the other hand, I've now set a precedent for the evening by which Moshe's constant interruptions of the game don't seem nearly as out of place.

"So I've been working on Gamer Mom, and the characters are starting to surprise me a little. The husband is totally ignoring her the whole time, but I've just reached a point where it turns out he really does care, and it surprised me a little because the whole time I've been writing him as just ignoring everything she says, but it's because he's really not interested in what she's talking about and really he tries to be a good husband but he just can't relate to her anymore because he doesn't like the things she likes. Which makes it kind of sad. The whole game is kind of sad."

And with that, I have run out of things to say about Gamer Mom at the present time. I sit around hoping someone else will raise a topic of discussion, but no one does. Maybe I can drag this out a bit more.

"It's a really dysfunctional family, in the game, because all she cares about is her game and all he cares about is his work and all the daughter cares about is her socializing, and even when they're talking to each other they never really care what the other people want, it's all about what they want and how they can use the other people to get it. Each of them is sort of talking only when they have something to say or something they want from someone else, they never stop to listen to the others. And that goes for all three of them, the husband and daughter but also the mother. And... um, and."

Okay, now I'm really done, and if I don't move quickly Moshe will be back in Phoenix Wright. I'm not sure what I thought I was going to get out of this talking. Fine, I'll just have to go with the original plan. Moshe gets off the Wii, Avri gets on the Wii, Metroid Prime 2 goes in the Wii. As Avri plays, Moshe keeps interrupting with irritating non sequiturs. I should have thought this through better.

Avri suggests that we play a three-player game. Every game he suggests, Moshe shoots down. Moshe certainly might enjoy any of those games, but he's hoping I'll let him keep playing Phoenix Wright. Neither of these ideas appeals to me.

Ignore them and think.
Ask them for more ideas.
The answer doesn't need to come right now. Let's see how it goes first.

They keep talking, and I'm finding it hard to tune them out because they keep engaging me directly. How am I supposed to solve the puzzle when my attention keeps getting pulled away from the thought process?

Ask them to give me a minute to think.
I can't keep ignoring them. Let's just go with the original plan.

"Can you give me a minute? I'll be right with you, but I need to think about something first."

They both look at me as though I'm crazy. Was this too strange a request? Whatever, I've committed myself to the thought process. So I pace around the hall thinking, and do my best to ignore what's going on in the next room.

Phoenix Wright doesn't keep Avri engaged, and anything but Phoenix Wright is going to be disappointing for Moshe. No, there's got to be something else. There's got to be something else Moshe likes enough to tear him away from Phoenix Wright for it. New Super Mario Bros. Wii? No, no, definitely not. Moshe specifically doesn't like platformers. There's got to be something they'll both... Zelda. They both like The Legend of Zelda. Avri's played the first four, and I've gotten Moshe to play through all of Ocarina of Time and The Wind Waker. Can we play Four Sword Adventures? I was very disappointed by how it went that one time I showed Avri, I'd like to try again with a better level... but you need three Game Boys. I don't have three Game Boys. Does someone on the street have... no, that's a bad idea. Moshe's never played a 2D Zelda, it might be too much of an effort to get him to play now. Darn. Zelda isn't the solution, I need something that Moshe isn't going to put up much resistance to... I've got nothing. Maybe a different Zelda game? Twilight Princess. Neither of them has played Twilight Princess at all. Will they like that? The beginning is awfully slow... but actually, that's good. It's all puzzles- between the two of them, we'll rush through that whole section and it'll be really dense with plot. That's a fantastic idea!

I walk back into the TV room purposefully, and say "We're going to play The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess". Moshe groans. "Oh, be quiet.", I tell him, "You liked the 3D Zeldas."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did. Come on, it's a good game."

He mutters something in Afrikaans. I find Twilight Princess, hand the Gamecube controller to Avri, and we're off. I have them alternate control every now and then, but it doesn't even matter so much because they're both involved in the experience. We all have fun. (Yes, even Moshe. He does like Zelda, don't listen to him.) As expected, we race through the first few hours of gameplay and get to the more challenging parts. Moshe's perfectly willing to pass that part off to Avri, but he's invested in the story by now so he enjoys watching. Why didn't I think of this game right away? It's so obvious.

I'm not being a good host, ignoring them like that. Let's just ignore Moshe and play Metroid Prime 2, that's the best we can do.

"Do either of you have any other ideas of what we could do?" Avri reiterates his willingness to play a three-player game, and Moshe mentions Phoenix Wright, which he hasn't stopped playing yet. No surprises there.

Follow Avri's suggestion.
None of these options are good enough!

I run through the list of possible three-player games. Boom Blox? No, Moshe's not interested. Super Monkey Ball? No, Moshe's not interested. Super Smash Bros.? No, Moshe's not interested. Pac-Man Vs.? No, Moshe's not interested. Wii Sports? No, Moshe's not interested. Uniracers? No, Moshe's not interested. New Super Mario Bros. Wii? No, Moshe's not interested. F-Zero GX? No, Moshe's not interested. WarioWare: Smooth Moves? No, neither one of them is interested. Come to think of it, neither am I- its multiplayer is terrible.

"Well, what will you play? We're going to play some three-player game, so pick one!"

"I just want to keep playing this."

"That's not an option. That's not a three-player game."

He sighs the sigh of the oppressed and keeps playing. I'm not going to get any answers out of him. So I ask Avri, who recommends Boom Blox. Fine, Boom Blox it is. Half the time we spend in it is fun, and half the time is spent listening to Moshe whine.

"Come on, give me some other ideas. We're not playing Phoenix Wright, and I don't want to play a three-player game with both of you because I don't think we could find a game that would be fun for everyone. So give me some other idea."

We sit around for a few minutes, with me not allowing Moshe to continue but no one having any bright ideas. Finally Avri leaves because he gets the sense that he's made the evening complicated by showing up. Moshe goes back to Phoenix Wright.

We sit around for a few minutes. Moshe's still playing, and Avri and I aren't doing anything. I wait for some inspiration to hit.

No inspiration is going to hit. Give Avri something to do.
Keep waiting, the solution will come to me.

"Forget it, let's just play Metroid Prime 2. Moshe, you've been playing for hours and I've just given you a few minutes more than I needed to. Get off."

After wresting the controller out of Moshe's hands, I have Avri start playing Metroid Prime 2. After the last few minutes of sitting around, he seems to be enjoying having anything to do at all. But Moshe keeps interrupting with his annoying non sequiturs. We were sitting there for a while, I should have thought of something better.

Avri asks about Phoenix Wright. I deflect: "He's been playing that for a while, it's toward the end of the chapter. You really need to play it for yourself to get the story." And then we wait around for another few awkward minutes while I wait for an idea to occur to me. Maybe there is no idea? Neah, just sit here, it'll be fine.

...or not. Avri's decided he has better ways to spend his time at home. Moshe keeps playing Phoenix Wright. Blah.





"Ma nishma?" is the Hebrew equivalent of "How's it going?" or "What's up?". But there's one tiny difference: in the English, it's socially acceptable to respond with a summary of events, mood, etc., whereas "Ma nishma?" can only be answered with the word "B'seder.", meaning "Okay.". There are a few other slang answers (taken from Arabic), which I don't use because I strongly dislike Hebrew slang, but they all have the same lack of meaning. Every morning I sit at my desk by myself, which is right next to the door at the front right of the room. Every morning Shir comes in, and as she passes me she says "Ma nishma?". Every morning I respond "B'seder.", and that is the entire extent of my interaction with Shir that day. On many days, that's the entire extent of my interaction with anyone. So I've been thinking about how I could possibly turn the fact that Shir seems to notice my existence into an actual conversation. I haven't had any ideas yet. Oh, here she comes now. "Ma nishma?", she says.

Question the question.
Tell her how I really feel.
Play along until I get a better idea.
This game is pointless: all paths lead to the same ending!

"How am I supposed to answer that, exactly?"

"What?"

She doesn't understand.
She understands me, she just doesn't understand I'm being serious.
This isn't going to accomplish anything.

"Every morning you come and say 'Ma nishma', but there's only one possible answer to that question. The only thing I can possibly say to that is 'B'seder'. So why even bother asking? If I were somehow able to put my entire life into the nuance of how I pronounced the word 'B'seder', it's not like you'd listen, you'd just keep walking."

"If you don't want me to say hello, I won't say hello."

She won't ever talk to me again. That's okay.
"I want you to say more than hello."

"I'm not the sort of person who does things just because they're expected, but every day I say 'B'seder' like I have absolutely nothing going on in my life and I feel like..."

Darn it, what's the word for "hypocrite"? There's got to be a Hebrew word for hypocrite.

The word will come to me, wait for it..
Just finish the thought: "It aggravates me."

Suddenly it occurs to me that I don't have a goal in mind with this line of discussion. It just seemed like the right thing to say, at the time, but now I'm not so sure.

"You shouldn't ask me a question if there's no possibility that you'll get an answer back!"
"Doesn't matter. I'm okay."

"I'm really lonely here. I feel like no one around will ever talk to me, beyond these daily 'Ma nishma' exchanges."

That's what I'd be saying, if I could remember the Hebrew word for "lonely" right now. I'm blanking on it, so as she waits for a response all I can muster is a vacant stare.

"One moment- there's something I wanted to say, but I can't remember the Hebrew word to say it."
I can remember the Hebrew word for "bored". Is that close enough?
I'm losing her interest quickly. I'll need to overplay my hand a bit to get any sympathy, at this point.

"So tell me in English."

I think through the words in English, and suddenly this seems like the most pathetic plea for attention ever.

"I don't want to say in English. It's not important."
"Doesn't matter. I'm fine."

"I'm bored here, in this class. I don't know what I'm even doing here. I'm not that interested in music."

"So why did you come?"

"I don't know."
"I have to be somewhere. Out of all the options I had, this isn't so bad, relatively."

"Why do you talk to me every morning? I'm not really one of you, I'm not a good musician, I'm not very interesting from what you've seen of me, no one cares about me at all, but every day you say 'Ma nishma?' to me as you come in. Is it just because I'm sitting next to the door? If I were sitting at the back of the class, would you ever talk to me at all?"

"I'm just being polite. If you don't want me to talk to you, I won't talk to you."

"No, I like that you talk to me."
"Fine. If you don't want to talk to me, no one's forcing you."

"B'seder."

She continues walking to her seat on the other side of the room.

Stop her, quick!
Think this through first.
Maybe I can buy a few seconds by repeating the question.

I get up and call "Shir.", not having any idea what I'm going to say to her next.

"What?"

"Hi."
"It doesn't matter."

"Hi.", she responds.

And then she walks off.

I need something substantial to say to her, or else I have no excuse for talking at all. What should I say?

We're both pianists. I need to say something about music, which is casual and doesn't make me look like an idiot because she's so much more of a musician than I am....
Of the interests that I have, is there any particular one non-geeky enough that there's a chance I could bring it up and she'd respond to it? I'll need to think about this.

"Ma nishma?", I ask her.

"B'seder.", she answers. Of course.

"Okay."
There's really nothing to say.

She walks off.

Here's the thing. For some reason I can't shake the silly idea that I could have gotten some friends back in school, and I missed the chance.

[sigh] We've been over this. There was no possible chance of a connection there.
Was there any reason to care about Shir, other than that she spoke to me? Did she ever show any hint of abnormality?
Since the fourth wall has already been broken, I'd like to play around with this rewind button just a bit more.

Yeah, I know. But still I have this idea in the back of my mind that maybe I overlooked some possibility, some out-of-the-box solution.

There's no out-of-the-box solution. Go to sleep.
Well, how will I know if I don't seriously look for one?

You know, I've gone through the possibilities in my head. Everything I could have done differently. And it all ends with either her never talking to me again (as is what happened) or her continuing to just say those two words. Never a third word. The problem is, I don't actually know her. I spent months listening to her conversations and trying to find a way in, and I never found it, but hearing her talking to other people isn't getting to know her. So ultimately, I don't know how she'd react to anything except what happened. So no matter how many times I run the scene through my head, I still don't feel like I've reached an ending. Maybe the ending is when I decide to stop looking. I wonder when that'll be.

Okay, one more time. Shir walks up, says "Ma nishma.". I say... yeah, I got nothing. It's a dead end.

Um... she had slightly messy hair? That was kind of cool. I do think she was pretty normal. Dedicated to music, but pretty normal. She kind of reminds me of my mother, come to think of it, practical and outgoing... huh. She reminds me of my mother? Freud would have what to say about this.

It wasn't a crush.
And just because I'm playing with time travel ideas doesn't mean my life has to turn into an episode of Being Erica. I'd like a more practical answer.

I know I never had a crush on her. It was just the fact that she was there... but I still think about that little exchange from time to time. Curious, isn't it? Why is it so important to me, to get to the ideal ending? So I messed up. So what? Why do I need to beat myself up for not having access to time travel technology yet?

Shir reminded me of my mother. Avri is a father, though nothing like mine. And after going through the situation with that play, I wanted a sibling-figure to talk to. Shortly after thinking about talking to that random stranger, I called Moshe and talked for a half hour or so. These weren't random social encounters. I wanted to have someone to chat with. I wanted Avri to explore Metroid Prime 2. I wanted Shir to be a fraction as interested in me as in her practicing and grades and running from place to place.

This is totally breaking the format of the post but I think I'm getting to something interesting here so screw the format. My sister Miriam is getting married tomorrow. My sister Dena has already moved out of the house, and in fact she did it without me knowing about it. My brother Benjy is here with his girlfriend Tristyn, and when I wanted to just follow him in the Israel Museum yesterday he acted like I was a nuisance. My grandparents and all my aunts and uncles are here, and I just came back from dinner where I was talking with them but I didn't really get the sense that there was any meaningful interaction going on between us. I've spent the past few weeks thinking about how little conversations and social situations could have gone differently, and I think I may actually have been doing this for a very long time.

I'm writing the wrong post right now. I should be continuing Multiplayer.

Okay, here's the practical answer. I probably could never have connected with Shir, but I should have tried. Well, I sort of did try, in that I told her it was annoying that she was only saying "Ma nishma." to me when there was no way to answer that, but I messed that up. I did. I said it in such a way that it came out sounding angrier than it should have, and I never tried to justify it later. If I had made more of an effort, I would have ended up in exactly the same place with one difference. Yeah, it always ends with her walking away. But I don't have to regret it later. If I had been a bit more bold with my weirdness, rather than keeping it to myself in the corner, I wouldn't be here going over my choices and trying to figure out whether they were ideal. They're not going to be ideal, but they have to be me. Sitting quietly and letting the matter stand is not me. Nothing I could have said to Shir would have made a difference. But it would have made a difference to me.

So I can go back and do things over, right? So why am I limiting myself to the state of mind I was in on that particular day? That particular day didn't go well. I was grouchy and I must have been a bit harsher than I'd intended and she never talked to me again. Forget that day. Let's try something else.

Maybe I should go to her, instead of vice versa!
I can talk to her from now, instead of then. I prefer the me of now.

It's the day before the last "Ma nishma.". Well, there she is. Sitting in her seat in the classroom, writing something or other in a notebook. I wonder what it is she's doing. I've never had any use for notebooks, since I've never done anything I was supposed to be doing in school. Maybe I'm not that interested in what she's doing. Okay, here's my chance to say something.

She's looking at me. Now she's looking back at her notebook. Not very exciting. Okay, say something. I can say... I can't think of a single thing to say to her. This is silly, let's go back.

"Hello, Shir."

"Hi."

"Do you know that I compose music? I recorded a CD of my compositions a few months ago. Also, I'm going to be singing and acting in the lead role of a Gilbert and Sullivan play soon. But what I do most these days is make computer games. I have much more to say with computer games than I ever did with music. What are you up to?"


2010, August 27th, 13:51 and 44 seconds

I got the lead role in Robert Binder's production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Ruddigore.


2010, August 12th, 3:11 and 40 seconds

Owner and Master

Twenty-three years ago, my parents visited Israel. When they went home to New Jersey, they decided that at some point in the next eight years they'd move here. Eight years later, they packed up and moved. My mother has a policy, when talking to Jews who don't live here yet: she only tells them the positive things about this country. If she told them what it's really like, they'd be less likely to move themselves. The salaries are low, the taxes are astronomical. The khareidim who think they can tell everyone else how to live keep moving closer and closer each year. I'd be lying if I said I understood what my parents have put themselves through. I don't know what it was like for my mother the first few months, when it must have started to sink in that she'd never be going back to America. And I don't even understand what they do now. As they run the community short on help, I sit at my computer and write blog posts. But I think I understand why they'd work so hard for the life they have. This is our country, and that's worth everything.

For the past few months, I have tried to maintain an illusion of being in control of my life. Over the past two days, that illusion has entirely fallen apart. I am not in control of my life, not even close. I am making myself miserable over things which I have little control over. The more I fight against my limitations, the less I seem to accomplish. And all of it is in the name of an ideal: that I should be the master of my own life. Over the past two days, I've been wondering if it's worth it. Yesterday I wrote down a goal for myself: "Be calm." I did not accomplish that. I'm starting to wonder if my ideals are worth holding on to at all. They are rather silly ideals.

"How was it? Excellent. At least, I imagined it was. Truth is, I could barely taste it."

We have two pets, a dog named Fudgie and a cat named Pussywillow, both around ten years old. When we got them, they were both a bit cuter and we spent lots of time playing with them. But they've gotten slower and lost some energy, and the thrill of pet ownership for both us and them has slowly been replaced by the mundanity of the familiar. Fudgie has behaviors which she repeats every day, Willy has behaviors which he repeats every day, and very little of it surprises us anymore.

Over the past few weeks, Fudgie has been acting really annoying at night. I think this behavior coincides with Dena taking a month-long trip to America. Fudgie has gotten comfortable with all the people in the house, and when one disappears it bothers her. And really, what is there in Fudgie's life other than the people in the house? It's not like she ever leaves the house, other than her regular five-minute walks around the block. So one less person in the house is a big deal for her. So ever since Dena left, Fudgie has been staying up at night. As long as there's any human in the house who's still awake, she won't sleep. If I'm the only one up, then she sits next to my rocking chair in the computer room, so close that I'm afraid of running over her face. And when I pace around the room, as I often do, I need to walk around her and be careful not to step on her. (She's a small dog, but it's also a small room.) I can handle this, but she starts getting really annoying if Miriam's home. Miriam's in the army all day, so when she comes home and just wants to go to sleep Fudgie starts scratching at her door, and doesn't stop until Miriam lets her in. If I try to move her at that point, she just tries to bite me and runs right back to Miriam's door. Not being a very social creature myself, I have no sympathy for this behavior. It's just frustrating.

While Fudgie won't leave, Pussywillow won't stay. There was a time, not when we first got him but years afterward, that he'd jump onto my lap often. I had finally broken through that antisocial shell of his, and he would come over to me, lie on his back so I'd scratch his tummy, and then purr. That's all I ever wanted from him, really. But he doesn't jump on my lap anymore. He doesn't even come upstairs. The only part of the house which still interests him is the straight line between the front door and the food. He comes in, he eats, and he goes out. Sometimes he ventures as far as the floor of the living room. When he does, I call him over: "Willy! Willy!"; and he takes a few steps in my direction before collapsing on the floor and ignoring me. At night he has to be left outside, because otherwise he sits at the front door and meows continuously -potentially for hours- until someone gets out of bed and lets him out. I tell you, that cat has stamina. When he was younger he would wander around the house, jumping everywhere and examining every nook and cranny for a new spot to sleep in. And when he found a spot that interested him, he'd sprawl out and he just looked like at that moment he was the most comfortable creature in the world. By now he's seen every nook and cranny, every good sleeping spot, and the house doesn't matter to him anymore. Except, we're still a necessary evil in his life, because this is the only place he can get food of the quality he demands. He still explores for sleeping spots, but he does it outside. If I don't let him out, he refuses to move from the front door until I do.

Why does the whole owner-pet relationship have to be so complicated? When I tell Willy to come, he should come. And when I tell Fudgie to go away, she should go away. It seems to me that if I can't even have that, then "owner" is a laughable term to use. They are who they are. You can't really be their master, you just have to accept their quirks.

I imagine having kids must be the same way. You don't ever control them, you just keep fighting until it's not worth it to fight anymore. When I was younger my father would yell at me and tell me what to do. Now that I'm 22 he doesn't, because he knows I wouldn't listen. My family just ignores me as they pass by the computer room. I am who I am- I'm the guy who's always at the computer doing God knows what. Benjy left years ago. In a few weeks Miriam will be getting married. Dena will move on eventually. But me? You can't get me out of the house.

I don't interact with many people. I have precious few excuses to be elsewhere. The vast majority of my life, up until this very week, was on a computer nine and a half years old which has not changed its position in that time. Even the peripherals haven't changed- it's the same mouse, same keyboard, and same CRT screen that I got as a Bar Mitzvah present from my mother's family. Whenever my friends saw it and how it functioned, they would tell me to get a new computer, though they were mainly saying that because they figured a new screen would be part of the package. I have my screen set to a resolution of 1280x1024, the highest this monitor can handle, because I've gotten comfortable with that and any less would feel cramped to me. But my monitor has been deteriorating slowly over this past decade, as any monitor will that's used as much as mine, so that now the image is slightly fuzzy and dark. At a low resolution this wouldn't be a huge problem, but at 1280x1024 everyone who looks at my screen (but me) says they can't read the text. Personally, I'm okay with the fuzziness. I've gotten used to it. And if no one else can handle it, well, that just reaffirms that this computer is mine. I like that.

I figure that's probably the sort of inclination that has Pussywillow always looking for his next bed. He lies in the most bizarre places, on top of lumpy objects and on rough surfaces. But once he's chosen a spot, that spot is his for the near future, and if you look at him sleeping there somehow it looks like the most comfortable spot in the world. I kind of admire that, the ability to settle in quickly and just make the place your own. I also admire how he moves on a few weeks later and never looks back. I wish I could do that.

With my entire life revolving around my computer, each and every program needs to be set up just right. And before I bought my new computer this week, I had my computer behaviors down to a science. I had ten extensions in Firefox that I used on a regular basis, and I'd set each and every one of their settings to my personal preference. Though I used Windows XP, I had one program which changed its appearance to something I liked more and another program which eliminated the Start button entirely. I accessed my programs and files instead with Google Desktop. I'd replaced Windows Explorer with the powerful file manager Directory Opus, whose settings I had messed with quite extensively from their defaults. And earlier this year, I replaced Blogger (for writing this blog) with a text editor called UltraEdit which I fell madly in love with and wrote lots of scripts for to automate the blogging process.

After nine and a half years of fighting, finally I felt that that outdated machine was the computer I wanted to live in for the rest of my life. And then it started to die. Well, to be fair, it had been dying for years. I couldn't really multitask, because if any program was open it used up what little RAM I had left after all the enhancements. So if Firefox was open and I wanted to watch a video, I'd need to kill the program from the task manager before I could start opening VLC media player. And even with all that strange behavior, everything still ran sluggishly. But I could handle that, and I could handle the days when my computer randomly decided to crash over and over with Windows forgetting on each reboot that I was already registered with Microsoft, and I could handle the fuzziness and the craziness of my workarounds. No one but me would have been comfortable, but it was mine so I was. And then one night as I was at Avri's house my mother came to tell me that my computer was making clicking sounds. And I could have just fixed it, but I knew I wasn't going to do that. I was going to buy a new computer, and that computer would not have Windows on it.

When I was using Blogger, I was working out of a very rigid framework but I knew what I wanted. So I used ridiculously convoluted methods to do things which the system wasn't designed to allow. I kept moving up, but only by chiseling away at the ceiling. And finally I got to a point I was comfortable with, but then it all came crashing down and I realized that I'd never owned my blog to begin with. When that day came, it was painful. I'd been building up a little niche for myself for several years, and suddenly I was back to square one. Nothing was going to hold me up, there was no guarantee that even the most primitive forms of blogging would be possible for me if I insisted on holding on to my work so far (and I did). I was utterly lost. But in the end, leaving Blogger was liberating. I found UltraEdit, and in the freedom of plain text I am doing things which I'd never even conceived of before. And looking into the future, there is no limit on what I can accomplish. I don't know what new little sleeping-spots I'll find, but I'm excited to find out.

My father took me shopping yesterday to get new dress clothes. I've never cared about clothes. My family bought all my clothes, and I've accepted it all, and I've never really given it too much thought because what's there to think about? One pair of pants is just like another except for the pockets. The deeper the pockets the better the pants. I wear the same clothes every week, and the same dress clothes every Shabbat, and I'm comfortable with that. But I was told I needed new clothes for the wedding, so I started thinking about clothes, and for some reason I started wondering what sort of clothes I wanted, which is something I'd never thought about before. I imagined going to the wedding in white dress pants, and a white dress shirt, and a solid purple tie. I've never worn a tie. No one would expect me to wear a tie, because I have a wardrobe that says "I will put on whatever requires the least effort.", but there needs to be a purple tie.

Unfortunately, the only men's fashion store nearby is a khareidi one. The khareidi men all wear white dress shirts and black dress pants, every single day. It's the most boring look in the world. So my father and I came to this store, and it's just pile after pile after pile of identical-looking clothes. So I picked out a white shirt and a black pair of pants, and they were very comfortable materials so I said "Sure. This is good enough.". I looked through the ties the store had and it was all the tackiest designs you can imagine, all polka dots and stripes in godawful colors. But that's what I get when I go with my father. I need to get out for myself, find a clothes store which I like. I should find stores for everything that I like, everything ought to be just the way... but who am I kidding. I'm perfectly fine with having my parents do everything. I don't need or want my own life. Do I?

When I was a little kid, computers were mysterious things. MS-DOS had so many commands, and I understood so few of them! There was room to grow. I made batch files to automate certain simple actions. I explored any hard drive I came across, looking to see how it was all arranged. The programs themselves, those were less interesting to me than where the programs were and how they worked. None of which I particularly understood, so it all seemed very exciting. To me the epitome of comfort with a computer is not UltraEdit on top of Windows XP with tons of programs breaking the functionality of Windows, it's the DOS prompts of my youth. Just me and the computer and nothing in between, but with so much I didn't understand yet that it seemed like I could live in that black screen forever.

But then Windows 95 came out, and everything changed. When I first saw Windows 95 it was on my brother's new laptop, and I just sat next to him and looked over his shoulder transfixed. I didn't understand what anything there was, but I wanted to explore it. I wanted to search every nook and cranny of it, and find little places that only I would know about, and really get comfortable there. It was a while before I was able to try it out for myself. And at first I was excited that progman.exe was still there, a holdover from Windows 3.1, and no one but me seemed to notice it, and I thought I'd use it all the time, but then I got used to the new interface and stoped caring about every subfolder of the WINDOWS directory, and with everything so much more organized and standardized there was no longer much difference between one hard drive and another. The new computer world was like a bookshelf filled with piles of books, where each book had the exact same story. At first I was creative with how I laid out my hard drive. I had a directory called "Attic", for instance, where I put things I didn't intend to use any time soon. But it clashed with how Windows was designed, because it's designed to get everyone to use computers the same way. There's nothing to master anymore. So I grew up.

Year after year after year with Windows. 95, then 98, then ME, then XP. And I stopped there, because new versions of the operating system had long since lost their thrill. It's Windows. Same as all the other versions of Windows. Everyone is going to use it the same way. So I started moving sideways from everyone else. They could have their technical improvements and graphical enhancements; I'd stick with Windows XP and just keep tweaking it until I had it the way I wanted.

When I was a kid, I used to imagine how I would design an operating system. I tried to make the idea as different as possible from Windows, while still perfectly functional. I have only the vaguest memory of what that idea was.

Several years ago, I tried switching to Mandrake Linux. I had never used Linux before, but I'd heard about it. It was something new to me, something mysterious, and that was something worth pursuing. So I tried it out on a second partition, and what a revelation it was! The terminal had never been thrown out, and was just as useful as ever. All the inner workings of the operating system were laid out in directory trees which could be explored. Every tiny little detail of the operating system could be replaced with something else. Immediately I understood: Linux was the promised land! Why the heck had I been going along with my family from one boring Windows version to the next? I should have been using Linux all my life!

But I hadn't been using Linux all my life, and it's a pity. There were certain programs I'd gotten overly attached to in Windows. They could be run on Linux under the quasi-emulator WINE (which stands for "WINE Is Not an Emulator"), but it was way too slow. So I switched back to Windows, but made myself a promise: whenever I got a faster computer, I would switch to Linux and never look back.

I decided on Kubuntu, because a few people recommended Ubuntu and when I was visiting Mandrake Linux I preferred KDE to GNOME. (If you don't know anything about Linux, I apologize for that sentence.) At first it was exciting to start using a new system, playing around with display settings and the like, turning on every graphical "enhancement" KDE has simply for the snazziness. And then I installed Firefox, which was simple enough though I needed to go through the settings for each extension. So far, so good. But already I was seeing problems. The fonts weren't right on my blog, because I'd designed it with the Windows fonts and those don't come with Linux. But I looked at the Linux alternatives, and they're pretty awful. In addition, the displaying of the fonts was a little bit off- all the text seemed a bit "dirty", for lack of a better word. And that was just the beginning. I'd set the screen resolution to 1280x1024, but every time I restarted the computer it switched to a lower resolution. I couldn't figure out how to access the TheBuckmans.com server at all, preventing me from posting my daily performance review. And WINE wouldn't play any sound. And on and on, problem after problem. I spent many hours searching the web for answers. Some answers turned out to be as simple as unchecking an option. Others were more complicated. And some I still haven't fixed.

Then there were the features which just seemed to be missing. It was disorienting to be able to browse my hard drive but not to be given an indication of how much hard drive space I had. And I was so used to being able to edit any file from any program that it was a shock to be denied access to files I needed to edit until I used the terminal. In Windows I had my mouse buttons set to do different things in different programs, so that I could put all five buttons of my Microsoft Intellimouse to their best use. Say what you will about Microsoft, but they made a good mouse and a good driver for it. I spent probably an hour trying to get my comics reader to work the way it did in Windows, before finally deciding it wasn't worth it.

The real problems only started when I tried to use UltraEdit. I had been very excited to learn that it has a Linux version, called UEX. They're charging $50 for it, and I downloaded the Windows version illegally but no one seemed to be sharing the Linux version so I planned to pay the price. I use it every day, it seems worth it. So I did the math, and found that if I took every last shekel (excepting the money I was given explicitly for music-related projects) out of my bank account, and added the few shekels I had in my wallet, I had just barely enough to pay for both the computer (which is a low-end computer by today's standards) and the program. So I downloaded the trial, and immediately discovered that it's unbelievably buggy. I'm talking huge bugs, of the sort that makes you wonder whether there was any testing at all. Words would randomly disappear from the ends of lines. Once I ran a few scripts, one of the scripts would get "stuck" and trying to activate any other script would run that script instead. In short, it was unusable. So I tried running the Windows version in WINE. My god, what a headache that was. I tried a bunch of different versions, and they all crashed within thirty seconds or so of using them. Sometimes the scripts would crash it, sometimes loading a file would crash it, sometimes just clicking on a line of text would crash the program. So I went back and forth between the four different versions of the program I'd installed, which due to inadequacies in WINE's emulation of the installers had all been thrown in different places, trying to figure out which version I might settle for and learn to live with. I messed with their settings, I tried changing the encoding of the scripts (which actually did make a difference), I tried all sorts of things but the bottom line was this: I could not use any of the four versions of the program on Linux.

And that was a serious problem. So serious, that I seriously considered reformatting the hard drive and putting Windows XP back on. It was nice there, wasn't it? I had all my programs, set up just so. That was my operating system, once I installed thirty programs that undid features Microsoft had put in. Look at all the luxuries I could have there! I could play games! I could use Directory Opus! I could set my mouse buttons to do different things for different programs! Just think how fast I could run all those things I already knew and didn't need to worry about...

I would like to clear something up right here, because I think that last paragraph had some ambiguity and I don't feel that's called for. That longing for the comfort of the familiar- that's bad. It's stifling. It's unreliable. Look, even without the hard drive malfunction, I was having problems. The program that changed the way Windows looked was only working sporadically. Almost every program I had crashed at one point or another. And, um... damn it, is that the entire list? Man, Windows was good to me.

No! No, no, no! Windows was terrible! I will remind you, young man, that you got to where you did only by fighting Microsoft's designs at every turn! Except the mouse driver. That was pretty cool. But otherwise! I've been fighting for years to get out of the generic way of thinking that Windows represents. I've refused to put anything at all on my desktop. I've refused to use the start menu. I've refused to use any of the applications which Microsoft bundles with the system. I've refused to look at that damn blue visual style which gets so old. And if I'd kept going with Microsoft, where would I be now? Windows Vista and onward don't support the keyboard like Windows used to. They use even more resources than XP did, for no clear benefit. Who knows what new restrictions I'd be up against if I kept going? And if I stayed with XP forever, all the new software would eventually pass me by. It was just a matter of time until Microsoft said what Blogger said:

"Get out of the house."

Wow, I have the nicest parents in the world. They've never said that. I can't justify staying here, though.


With Linux, I'm not going to get left behind. There are whole communities here of people with an inexplicable love of text interfaces. This is the place for me, I've known it for years. Now I just need to stay strong and soldier through until I get comfortable. I will get comfortable. And once I do, I'm going to be much more satisfied than I ever was in Windows. Because this is a place where I can keep moving up, where the sum total of my ambitions does not have to stop at "Get past the limitations.". Here there aren't limitations, I can set my computer up however I like. I prefer Google Desktop to Start menus, so I installed Google Desktop and then I right-clicked the Start menu and clicked "Remove" and that was it. I want my computer use to revolve around the terminal, so I put a terminal right on the desktop where it can be accessed at any time. And then I thought, I like this spartan aesthetic where the only thing here is the terminal and the trash, but there are all sorts of random things that could be very useful, like a notepad or a dictionary. So I put that stuff on my second desktop, where it won't distract me from whatever I'm doing but it'll still be accessible in a keypress. All this, I can do simply. Because this isn't an operating system designed for just one kind of user.

To be fair, the desktop did malfunction quite a few times as I was setting it up. This stuff just isn't tested as much as Windows software, and I can see that's a problem I'll be dealing with for a long time.

But it's worth it. In Windows, I could keep trying to control it, but in the end it is what it is. I could never really own a copy of Windows, because only Microsoft owns Windows. Only they get to decide what the "right" way to use a computer is. And I need to get myself out of that mindset. I'm not sure how much of my day-to-day behavior is actually right for me, and how much is just me learning to conform to Windows's ideas. I'm looking forward to finding out. I don't know what my computer should be like, and that excites me. I'm a little kid with a DOS prompt again. Time to start living!





So, um. UltraEdit. I looked into alternatives, and I found the same thing I found when I was looking for text editors earlier this year. There isn't an alternative of the quality I demand. UltraEdit was probably the sixth or seventh editor I tried back then, and I only tried ones that looked promising. So all this back to kid-time stuff is great, but I need UltraEdit.

So today I installed VirtualBox, set up a virtual machine, and installed Windows 2000 on it. Is this an admission of defeat? I don't know. Maybe. The way it works is that Windows is running on top of Linux. So I can switch back and forth between the Windows desktop and Linux programs just by pressing Alt-Tab. VirtualBox also is able to integrate the Windows programs into the Linux environment, which means that in practice it almost feels like UltraEdit is just another progam.

You know what, I'm going to say this isn't a betrayal of principles, on the grounds that this virtual machine thing is so darn cool. On one side I've got UltraEdit, exactly as I've always used it, and on the other side I've got a brand new operating system to learn and master. It sure does seem like I can have it all. And it's not so different from what I've done on the blog, continuing to rely on Blogger for comments but nothing else. And it's not so different from how we live in an English-speaking neighborhood inside of a Hebrew-speaking country. As long as there's a program I need Windows for, it's a necessary evil. I think the sin of reinstalling Windows is balanced out by the big terminal in the middle of my desktop.


So here I am, at the end of day three. I've survived this long- I think that's a good sign. I'm not used to this much change. Normally I go crazy if even a tiny thing gets moved. But I did this to myself, so I can't exactly argue. Yesterday I wrote my first shell script (Linux's version of batch files), which automates uploading the daily blog update. (I had to do it manually in Windows, each night.) Today I wrote this blog post, which I didn't think I'd be able to do, and it's finally putting all this craziness and tension into perspective. This is totally going to work.


2010, August 2nd, 2:32 and 56 seconds

Performance reviews for August 2010


five comments, the last one being from myself
 Mory said:

I just realized the prototype program linked to from the last post wasn't uploaded right. So I'm going to go fix that now. If you read through the post before and tried to download the program, I apologize. It ought to be working now.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

I object vehemently to your premise that enjoying losing is wrong. I think you were just finding something to seize on to unjustifiably give yourself a 0 and declare your disappointment for the month. (It was definitely not a 0 day, it had game night!) There is nothing wrong with enjoying losing. The journey is the joy, and additionally losing is a chance to grow and improve. Enjoying losing is on the highest of levels!

Blah. Games are not for winning. They are for playing.

 Mory said:

Games nights don't really count as a part of the performance, because going each week doesn't reveal any new facets of my personality and staying all the way until the end doesn't really reflect my priorities. So while I very much enjoy and look forward to the games nights, it's something which the day's performance is built around as opposed to being part of it.

Of course all of this is an entirely subjective call, much like what goes into "mundane activities" or what consitutes "weirdness" (which is valued). But the entire performance review project is subjective, working toward where I personally think I ought to be and not some objective standard. The reason I've decided to ignore games night is that the alternative is to treat it as any other activity would be treated, since in my mind games night is one cohesive social activity rather than a bunch of unrelated activities. If I treat that six-hour block as one activity, it then becomes necessary for a more productive project to slightly overcome it, which is entirely unreasonable. I do not have the energy to spend seven hours on my game. And I don't want to leave games night early if it can be helped. So ignoring that time and considering Tuesdays to be (in effect) 8-hour days seemed like the best option. If you've got a better idea, I'm open to hearing it.

Anyway, since games night isn't counted what I'm looking at is the remainder of the day, none of which makes this day stand out from the days which preceded it. The bottom line of all of this is that I want to be an interesting person. If I have a day where I do absolutely nothing that stands out, that's a 0/10 day. I think that was absolutely justified. Just as 10/10 is reserved for days which are unusually impressive (by my standards), 0/10 is reserved for days which don't have a single thing going for them (and games night doesn't count) and Monday was that.

Games are not for winning, you're right. The metaphor was a sloppy way to make a point. But the point stands, poorly-communicated though it may be. If you don't try to accomplish anything, you end the day not having accomplished anything. (Naturally.) So while winning is not the be-all and end-all of life, it needs to be seen as a value worth pursuing.

Blogger Whistler said:

Not sure where to post this, but I really enjoyed your "Little Social Games" post. I think it gives a lot of information about how you see the world, while allowing the reader to determine how deep they want to dig.

 Mory said:

Thanks for the comment; this is as good a place for it as any. If you enjoy these interactive versions of my thought processes, you'll probably enjoy "It's a trap!" two posts down from here.

By the way, your blog "The Ludi Bin" seems like I'll find it interesting. It's always nice to meet new people on the internet.

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2010, July 29th, 16:49 and 44 seconds

Creating The March of Bulk

My latest game (not counting the last blog post) took a little bit longer than expected. Which is how it always is. I start out with big ambitions, then scale it down a lot, then scale it down past that, and then it turns out that I've still got ten times more work to do than I figured on.

From a certain perspective, the development process of The March of Bulk predates this entire blog by several months. It was a few months after I'd decided to make a platformer called Through the Wind, which is still on my agenda as one of five games which I absolutely need to create over the course of my life. To explain why I had the idea to make The March of Bulk to begin with, I need to tell you what that game was meant to be.

This was six years ago, as I was wasting much of my life in the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance high school. I was in the music part, but there was certainly a part of me that saw those amazing modern dances and wished I were on the other side. A small part of me, I guess, since I'm about as graceful as an elephant. And anyway, I didn't have the necessary discipline. You see dancers moving around, and it looks like the most elegant thing in the world, but on their end it's actually just hours and hours of hard and repetitive work. And these guys were serious; dancing was the whole reason they were there.

But I wasn't like that. While the dancers practiced dancing, and the musicians practiced playing, you'd be most likely to find me in the computer room, playing the illegal copies of Metroid: Zero Mission, Super Mario Bros. 3 and Rayman 2 which I'd installed. (I was also constantly trying to find other people there who'd play them too, and I had a few successes.) All three games were platformers, and I don't think that was a conscious choice. I like all sorts of games, not just movement. But in retrospect, I can see why I specifically stuck to that art form. It's a lot easier to sell other people on a game if it's engaging to watch. If they see me pressing a bunch of keys to make a character swoop through the air in complicated maneuvers, they might say, "Hey, that looks like fun! I want to try to do that!".

But it wasn't quite enough. Of the three, Mario was by far the most successful at grabbing a newcomer. But even that game seemed somewhat primitive to me, especially when played in that building with the musicians and dancers downstairs. I didn't understand exactly what I was looking for, though, until I played Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time on my Gamecube at home. It was a really awful game which I'm thankful to have played, because I can identify that experience as the moment that I realized: The game industry hasn't got any idea what they're doing! It is a game where simply holding down the R button has your character doing a very difficult-looking swing around a pole, or running across a wall. It is a game where you don't need to worry about aiming your jumps, because the game aims the jump for you. There is no timing or aiming involved, and if someone sees you playing they don't say "Hey, I want to try that!", they just wonder why you're wasting your time going through the motions of this silly game. (That game messed up a lot of things other than controls, but that's the part that's relevant to this post.)

That's when I realized that the primary content of a movement game is its controls. There's a sense of satisfaction you get when you successfully control Mario's momentum or pull off a wall-jump in Super Metroid, which isn't really about the visual of the character doing the move. What makes it feel good is that it's you doing that move, it's you that's in control, it's you that practiced and died and tried again and got better and eventually made it look effortless. And that's something which is very much in line with the experiences of music or (I imagine) dance. The reason the platformer had apparently passed its heyday was because the game industry was too focused on visuals and programming techniques to recognize the way forward. But in that building, I saw the way forward.

That brings the story to Through the Wind, which I figured would be my first game because it was the first game I'd had the idea for that seemed important and urgent to make. (I especially wanted to have some small part of it done before graduating.) I started by planning out the control scheme, of course, which would have only six keys but a surprising amount of depth. I figured, if six buttons are enough for Super Mario Bros. 3, it's enough for me. I wanted this to be a game which could have been done ten years earlier, but which would put to shame all the platformers of the present and demonstrate where we ought to go in the future. It was ridiculously ambitious, especially considering that I had never completed anything in my life. But that's how it always is- you can't know what you're getting yourself into.

I found a tutorial on the web that showed how to program for DirectX with Visual Basic 6, because I grew up playing with Visual Basic and felt comfortable with its language. In the meantime, I spent all the recesses thinking about the minutiae of Through the Wind: the camera system which would not only follow the character but also zoom in and out when necessary, the appearance of the graphics, the style of the world design, etc. I also considered how best to make a game which could instantly be picked up by a newcomer, while an experienced player could go into the game on someone else's computer, immediately get to really hard levels, play them well, and impress the owner of the game. That's the sort of experience a movement game ought to allow: where one player has learned in his fingers how to do crazy things, and he can go to other people and show them, and then they say "I want to try that!".

I eventually realized that my abilities in Visual Basic 6 were simply not up to the task. So I scaled down my ambitions, for the time being. Through the Wind was still a necessary step in the evolution of the platformer, and I'd get to it eventually, but I wasn't ready yet. So I'd start with something much smaller, a game which would follow the same principles of design and coding as Through the Wind but could be accomplished in just a few months. And then I'd be ready to move up to the bigger game, and I'd play on a prototype of it for the musicians and the dancers, and suddenly they'd all recognize my existence and maybe want to join me for a few minutes.

(This temporary scaling-down is exactly the same thing I'm doing now with Gamer Mom. The plan, as you may recall, was to go from The March of Bulk to Angles and Circles to Next Door, but instead I've chosen to make this smaller and less ambitious game which follows the same principles as Next Door before I get to that. And really, Next Door is a scaled-down version of one of the five important games which I've been planning for years! So I do this a lot.)

I wanted for this game to stand on its own, so while Through the Wind would have a very acrobatic sort of character who gracefully soars around the screen, in this the player would be an elephant. So I drew a crude picture of an elephant in Photoshop, I got comfortable with DirectX and the BitBlt command which it uses for drawing, and I was ready to go. Well, almost. First I needed to figure out how to rotate the elephant's legs. It would be possible to draw an animation beforehand which would simply be triggered by the keypresses, but that was the exact kind of behavior that I'd learned from Prince of Persia didn't work. A platformer (or a movement game of some other sort -I hadn't yet made up my mind on whether or not there would be platforms.) needs to react to the timing of the keypresses, or else there's no point. It needs to be you that's moving, not just a pre-rendered animation. So the rotation of the legs was absolutely crucial. And once I learned how to do that on this small scale I could move up to Through the Wind, whose character would be made of many rotating body parts attached together at pivots.

Well, it turns out DirectX 7 can't rotate 2D images. If I wanted to do that, I'd need to create a 3D engine in which the 2D images would be flat textures. And considering that this was just supposed to be the warm-up, I wasn't willing to learn three-dimensional programming for it. So I decided to make my own rotation algorithm. I was pretty good at trigonometry, so in whatever classes I needed to sit through that year I wrote down the algorithm for rotating an image pixel-by-pixel. It actually worked when I ran it, but dealing with pixels rather than whole images meant I wasn't using the graphics card's hardware acceleration properly, negating the benefit of using DirectX in the first place! Or to put it in layman's terms: it was slooooooow. You can't build a game on top of an algorithm like that. So I tried having it load maybe a hundred and twenty different rotations of the image as you go in, meaning there would be a ridiculously long loading time but (in theory) the game could run smoothly afterwards. The program did not run as I expected: this new algorithm for storing and acessing rotations (built on top of the other algorithm) wasn't rotating the images around the correct center points, which made it useless. I didn't want to go through the code line by line, because even if I did I wasn't sure I'd find the mistake. I'd gone over the math thoroughly beforehand, and it seemed right to me. So I gave up.

A year later I decided that I'd had the right idea in making games, but that I'd been too ambitious in trying to make The March of Bulk as my first game and that Visual Basic was not the right language to use. So I found (and eventually bought) BlitzMax, which is a version of BASIC specifically designed for 2D games, and I came up with an idea for a game which -two and a half years later- became Smilie. (That story, which is very long and involves multiple personalities, can be found very far down on this page if you're interested.) And then I had the idea for The Perfect Color which seemed like it could be done in a matter of weeks, and after that it was time to get back to The March of Bulk.

Now, I've said as much as I can say without spoiling the experience of playing The March of Bulk for yourself, so I ask that you not read any further in this post without first having played through the game. If you haven't played it yet, you can go play it and then come back and read the rest. It only takes a few minutes. When you come back, I'll be here. No rush.

In January of 2009, Kyler and I finished The Perfect Color. Kyler kept suggesting improvements, but I felt that it was good enough as it was, so it was finished. In one of the letters I wrote to him, I said this:
I'll show you what I've got for the next game ("The March of Bulk") next week. ... I'll give you the CliffsNotes version of the idea: it'll be sort of a slapstick movement game about an elephant. The elephant will be nicely textured so that you expect it to move around with much difficulty, and then you'll have him jumping up and down and launching himself into the air and rolling around. Very short, very simple, very small, existing to get a laugh. I've started writing up a more detailed design document, so next week I'll send you that.
Kyler was a very welcome element which I had not anticipated in my plan. His graphics add so much charm to the games I make. Before he came along, The Perfect Color was just going to have stick figures floating around with faces like Smilie and colored thought bubbles over their heads. He gave the game really expressive people, with animated movements which made the game feel fun and cute rather than dry and pretentious. Kyler and I have never actually met in person: he lives in Canada, I live in Israel. We met when he searched for blog posts critical of the movie WALL•E, and instead found my post "Anticipating WALL•E". Anyway, now that I had Kyler I wanted to see what he could do with my old elephant project. So I asked him whether he was interested, and when he said he was I sent him what little I had written so far:

Here's what I've written up so far, subject to further revision. It's extremely technical, but it ought to give you the gist. You can skim it.
The March of Bulk


A short movement game, in which the player controls an elephant. There's not much to it.

The title screen is of the "Press any key to start" variety. It says the following:
"As you hold [→], press [D] or [F] to march."


Then you start playing. The elephant always faces to the right. F controls the right leg, D controls the left leg. The elephant is a little bit to the left of the X axis' center, standing on the ground which is close to the bottom of the screen.

If the left arrow or right arrow is pressed, then F or D make the elephant lift up the leg, and place it down in whatever direction was specified. Each time a leg is moved, the background scrolls a tiny bit in the opposite direction to create the impression that the elephant is moving. The right leg can't be moved very far to the left, and the left leg can't be moved very far to the right. If a leg is moved away from the body twice it tilts a little bit, and if three times it tilts more. If one leg is moved three times, or both legs are moved twice, then the elephant collapses onto his stomach. Then the player needs to move the legs backwards from their positions until the elephant is upright. (It takes four presses on each side.) Moving at all in the opposite direction makes the elephant collapse again.

If both the left arrow and the right arrow are pressed, then pressing F or D makes the elephant shake in that direction. If the leg in that direction is tilting, then the elephant will collapse. If both F and D are pressed simultaneously, there is no effect.

If neither the left arrow nor the right arrow is pressed, pressing F or D makes the elephant push off the ground with that leg, Then the elephant pivots on the opposite leg. At first he rotates only a little bit then falls back. If the player presses the same leg again at the moment the elephant falls, then he will rotate farther.

The third time, the elephant will rotate until he is pointed straight up. If the player presses on the opposite leg very close to that point, then the elephant will jump up in the air on one leg. The camera will scroll up, revealing more of the sky, but the elephant will move up faster so that he reaches just above the Y-axis' middle before falling down again. Then the camera will move down faster than the elephant, so that he disappears from view over the top of the screen as the camera reaches the ground, then he falls down with a slight tinkling sound, and falls down on the other leg. Then there's a rumble, and the screen shakes around violently.

If the left leg was the one to push off the ground, then pressing F makes the elephant make a very small hop backwards. The hop starts at whatever angle the elephant was rotated at, which gets straighter until the elephant is at the top of his hop, where he is perfectly straight. Then he falls down, the screen shakes a little, and the background moves backwards to put him back in the normal position.

If the right leg was the one to push off the ground,

Yeah, that's all I've got. It trails off in mid-sentence like that. I wrote this up a long time back, and put it on hold when I decided to make The Perfect Color. Now that we're going ahead with this and you're onboard, finishing this up is a priority.

This will be a departure from the first two games I made. It's the first game that'll need sound effects (The zaniness just wouldn't work otherwise.), and it'll be entirely nonlinear. No ending, no real progression. Just a bunch of controls, you play with those controls for a minute or so, you laugh, you leave. (It'll obviously be a tremendous amount of work for that laugh. But I think it'll be funny enough to be worth it. If you disagree, say so now.)

When the player goes in, he's expecting the game to be really boring, maybe even self-important. "What's the point of moving an elephant?". He expects something maybe along the lines of The Graveyard, where moving is a slow and torturous activity. And we play along. If he just moves one leg in front of the other like a good little player, the sense of weight of the elephant is all he'll get. But the more he plays around, the more we flip his expectations upside down. So the elephant should specifically not be drawn in a cartoony style- that'd telegraph the joke. The visual gag is seeing an elephant, who you'd expect to move like a tank, making ridiculously out-of-character movements. Drawing the elephant should actually be one of the easiest parts of the whole thing- it's humorless and stiff. I picture limbs which are separate layers from the body, so that they can be rotated and moved around by the program however the player's keypresses call for.

There's more work to be done in the environment. I don't really care what the background is, just so long as it's bright and colorful and starts on the ground. If you walk to the right, it loops around. Then there are backgrounds which go up, because this elephant is going to be launched really high. Up to the (unrealistically low) clouds, up to the atmosphere, up out into space (zoomed out) and then back into the atmosphere and back down to the ground.

I think there's only one other character, and that's a bird you can accidentally knock into as you're flying up. Once the bird is smushed, it doesn't come back.

That's the idea. What do you think?

-Mory
Fifteen minutes later, I sent a follow-up:
To be clear, just because the design document cuts off there doesn't mean I don't have additional specific ideas. They're just not so specific yet that I'd be comfortable writing them up formally. Specifically, the elephant will be able to do somersaults, and if you speed up the somersaults he rockets forward like a tire on a racing car for as long as you can sustain it.

Normally I'd be scared of sticking in secrets like that, which players could totally miss. But there are only a few keys. So I figure they'll have to stumble across at least some wacky stuff totally by accident, just by messing around.

If you think I'm crazy for even considering putting so much work into such a simple visual gag, say so. I could do this myself, though not well at all. The reason I want to make this so much is that I've never played anything even vaguely like it. Movement games are always based on practical movement, not bizarre movement.

-Mory
What I meant by "practical movement" is that in a movement game you usually have obstacles, where the controls are practical ways of getting past those obstacles. But this could lead one to misunderstand the medium and think that the obstacles, rather than the controls, are the point of the game. This is why there are so many technically proficient movement games where the controls are purely functional and not remotely fun to use. (The technical term for such games is "crap".) If I made a movement game with no obstacles at all which still managed to be fun, then everyone who played that game would understand where the appeal of movement games comes from. So in The March of Bulk there are no particular challenges, and the movement can't be seen as a tool which you use to win. The movement is what you're coming for, it is in itself expressive. The intended emotional progression of the game is this: you start walking, you find it tedious and slow, you decide that you don't care about moving forward anymore, you have fun doing other things, and you leave. (Later you show your friends what you've figured out.) It's about abandoning practicality and common sense in the name of a goofy fun time. So the controls can really be split into two sections: what you do while holding down an arrow key, and what you do while not holding an arrow key. The contrast between the two was what I hoped would make the game funny. The controls for walking are downright oppressive for the player, and the other controls are liberating.

There are a lot of things I described in the early letters to Kyler which did not make it into the game. But you can also see a lot of ideas here that I held on to all the way through development. One of the things that never changed was the control scheme: the arrow keys, F and D. I intend to use these same keys for Through the Wind. These basic controls are atypical for many different reasons. First off, it's generally assumed that just by holding down a direction, the character is already going to start moving. But I wanted for each and every step to be felt by the player, increasing the sense of slowness and tedium to set up the joke of the rest of the movement. Secondly, if a game uses only two keys it is expected that those keys will be either Ctrl and Shift or Z and X. Personally I don't like either of those options, because it feels too different from how I use a keyboard normally. With proper typing you're meant to have your left index finger on F and your right index finger on J, which is why all keyboards have little bars sticking out on those keys. The bar make it easy to feel where the F key is even if you're not looking at the keyboard, and I expect that anyone who uses a computer often will do that without thinking about it much. I first started using this hand position when playing an illegally emulated copy of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and needed a keyboard configuration that would allow me immediate access to many keys. Ever since, I map keys for this hand position in any game where I'm given the option. When I started designing The March of Bulk, certain people told me that I should either pick more typical keys or allow the player to change them. I ignored them, and will continue to do so in the future.

Since I had spent so much time over the years thinking about how the game would be played, I wanted to just jump in and start programming. But I immediately got stuck. It seemed to me that I couldn't program The March of Bulk until I had made more general classes and functions for images connected by pivots, so that I could build the elephant with those classes and then be ready for Through the Wind. (I try to never lose sight of where I'm going.) I paced around the room for days, but I just couldn't figure out how to get started. The code wasn't coming to me. Eventually I decided to skip that step, and go straight to the specific math I'd need for the algorithms.

I did a bunch to explain to Kyler what I was going for, including sending him my early test programs and recording a video with my cell phone of my hand playing out the elephant's movements (as seen by the player). But for whatever reason, it took him a while to make an image of the elephant. So for the time being I worked with the image I'd created five years earlier, which is likely what the final game would be using if not for Kyler. I broke it into three parts: the body and two rectangles for legs. And then I made a program where I could use the keyboard to move the pieces on a pixel-by-pixel level and rotate by individual degrees. Then I made a slightly more advanced version of that program which let me store several frames and switch between them like an animator flipping through early sketches. In the third version of the program, I could also press a button to have the computer move the images smoothly between one frame and the next, so that I could get a sense of what it would look like in the final program. I spent hours tweaking those numbers, and with whatever scraps of paper happened to be around, I wrote down the position and rotation values I'd come up with. Then I compared one frame to the next to figure out what the math was behind the transition. And what I was left with was this:

Image: 0318091450.jpg


Progress was slow, which wasn't a comment on the difficulty of making the game so much as a reminder of my lack of a work ethic. Over the months, I gradually turned a bunch of numbers into a playable prototype:

Program: walking 2.exe


Already my philosophy of movement design comes through pretty clearly. This isn't a pre-rendered animation (which I'm sure Kyler could have done quite easily)- how far it goes depends on how long you hold down the key for. Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that- there's a minimum limit on how high the leg goes up when you press the key. When I didn't have that, you could make the elephant shuffle forward quickly with very quick and staccatto taps of the keys. And that wasn't the feeling I was going for. So at first it sort of is following a preset animation, but after a few frames it reacts to your timing. So I tried to find a balance between reacting to the subtleties of the player's control, and limiting the player's control in order to make the feeling of moving the elephant more specific.

You will note that I was still holding on to the idea from the original document that the elephant would collapse if the legs got too far apart. The reason I originally had the legs start to tilt when they spread out too much was to give a visual warning to the player that that was about to happen. I think the way I programmed the falling (and getting up again) in this prototype is really cute. The idea was to give the player a sense of the elephant's weight and lack of coordination. So I do think the game lost a bit when I took that feature out, and it wasn't an easy decision to do so.

Kyler played the prototype and tried to match the tone that the program already had, while bringing his distinctive style into the mix and making the elephant visually appealing. This is what he came up with:

Image: Bulk Full.jpg


I responded a bit harshly, telling him that it was too cartoony. I said to him "I hope this doesn't sound stifling, but really what is needed is something less distinctive. An ordinary elephant, where the player doesn't immediately think 'That elephant has character!', he just thinks 'There's an elephant. Okay.'. The player needs to be surprised by the jumping when he stumbles into it, or the whole charm of the game is lost.". Kyler was pretty darn understanding, considering he's not exactly being paid here, said it was an embarrassing mistake on his part, and sent me this instead:

Image: New Bulk.jpg


Naturally, I fell in love with this design immediately. Those curvy lines (I'm sure there's a technical term, but I'm no visual artist) create a sense of depth, that somehow convinces you this is a real elephant even though there are only two legs. It's not realism, exactly, but it gives the impression of realism. It's a magnificent image, serious but lively. But enough of me playing art critic: what did it mean for the game? Well, the first thing I realized was that the collapsing had to go. With an elephant this believable, I realized that the contrast between the walking and the fun stuff would be much sharper than expected. So the cartooniness of the elephant collapsing no longer had a place. Now that I wasn't using a cutesy image anymore, it would just be out of character during the part where the movement is played straight.

Secondly, I couldn't figure out how the heck to program with it. With my image (and Kyler's first), the elephant was filled in with a solid color, so the legs could move up behind the body and it would still look like a cohesive image because you can't see that the top of the disconnected leg is disappearing behind the body. But in this new drawing, the entire image was connected together through the curvy lines which gave it that impression of depth I loved. The whole thing is one uninterrupted series of curves, and I experimented with different ways to separate it along the curves but it all looked like I was mutilating Kyler's beautiful image (which of course I was). You can't just cut the image to disconnect the legs, because you notice as soon as the lines stop matching up. I looked at it every which way and I always saw the same thing: it was not possible to use this image. But that elephant was perfect- it absolutely nailed the tone the game needed if it was going to work. So I said to Kyler: "I have a feeling this'll be ridiculously complicated to program with, but I also have a feeling it'll be worth it. Carry on."

And man, was it ever complicated to program with. After a week of heavy pondering, I finally started on the long, long road of understanding what was required. I wrote a letter to Kyler explaining my solution with attached mock-ups (to show the general idea), but I'm not going to share it because it's not so clear what I'm saying in it even with the visual aids. The gist is that there would be two round holes in the body image, and the legs would rotate inside it. But in order to do that, the tops of the legs need to have a lot of excess skin on top which is hidden under the body. I'm not entirely sure if the idea is clear from that description. If not, don't worry about it - I don't think Kyler understood what I was saying either. Over the course of development I kept asking him for more excess on the legs, and he would give me a little more going in a random direction, and then I'd take an eraser (in The GIMP) and cut it down to the shape I needed.

But this solution caused new problems which needed to be solved. First and most obviously, the rear leg would now be sticking out the back of the elephant. If you don't understand the problem, think of it this way: When you push up from the back leg, the body is rotated such that you're seeing more at the top of the left leg than you normally do. So when you drop down again, where does that part of the image go? You can't just cut off the drawing there because it goes all the way up to the tail. If I stopped drawing the leg before I got to the tail, there would be a big awkward-looking gap between the leg and the tail. If I stopped at the tail, I'd be losing some of the tail itself because it's not perfectly straight. And if I stopped past the tail, then you'd see some random skin behind the elephant because the leg wasn't cut off right. Any of these options would completely destroy the illusion of one cohesive elephant.

Another problem was that if there's a big hole in the elephant's body, well, you'd see that hole as soon as the leg is lifted up. The legs get thinner as they go down, so there's less of the hole that's being filled whenever you pick up a leg. Not exactly conducive to a movement game. This problem was actually much easier to solve than the other one- it only took a month or two to figure it out. Each leg (in the final game) is actually not one image but three. One is the part that rotates around inside the hole in the body, the part with all the excess skin sticking out. Then there's the actual leg, and finally the foot. Now, when it looks like the leg is being lifted that's a bit of an optical illusion, because it's staying in exactly the same spot on top. What's going on is that I'm squashing it. The rotating part is squashed just a little bit, the leg itself is squashed a lot, and the foot isn't squashed at all. If the foot shrunk along with the leg, it would just look like the leg is stretching (as it actually is). But when it stays the same size and it's just everything else that's shrinking, it looks like the foot's just being lifted up. If only all puzzles eventually turned out to have such straightforward solutions.

Because the leg extending past the tail, that was something altogether different. I think it's fair to say that I spent literally months of development just trying to get around that one problem. This has already gotten way too technical so I'm not going to go into everything I was forced to do. But let's just say that what might seem at first like a silly little problem can reveal itself to be a big honking problem when you get closer. And it only got bigger and more honking the closer I got. There was only one way I could find to do what needed to be done, and it was ridiculously convoluted. It involved drawing the elephant's butt before anything else on the screen has been drawn, then saving that for later, drawing everything else, and finally pasting the butt back on. (This is what is going on in every frame of the finished game.) The only way to do this required a particular function of the BlitzMax language which, it turned out later, is notoriously buggy. When it finally looked like I was close to success, I tried running what I had so far on my parent's computer and it didn't work. There was a big gray rectangle sticking out the back of the elephant.

What the hell had I been making that game for? In the first place, it was the sort of game that (I'd have to admit) would have very limited appeal. And even with those who would like it, it wouldn't be played for more than, what, two minutes? I had been actively working on it for over six months, using a design that wasn't really usable. Just a tiny portion of the design had been implemented so far, the work was tedious, and the ending was nowhere in sight. And now. Now I tested it out and found that of the three computers in the house, only mine could run the game properly. My parents' computer gave the elephant a big gray rectangle sticking out of its butt, and my sisters' computer just crashed when I tried to run the program. Good work, Mory. Good work.

With every game I make (and I'd have to include interactive blog posts as well, like the one I just posted), there's a moment where I look at myself and I look at the project, and I say: "My God! I am insane for giving myself this much work!" It always starts out seeming soooo simple, but you can never know. So there's always that one massively depressing moment where I curse my own existence and my choices in life. Making The March of Bulk, I had that moment over and over.

I guess Kyler must have felt sorry for me after a while. He wrote:
What would happen if you changed the artwork to that which I first sent you of the cartoon elephant? The squash and stretch programming you have already done would work well with it.

I remember your intentions when we started the project, that you wanted a realistic elephant to contrast the peculiar motion the elephant would have. This is an interesting visual gag, but most of my education in animation would suggest to me that the movement of a character and it's design should be unified for the greatest effect. A realistic elephant would work best for realistic movement, cartoon movement would work best for a cartoon elephant. If you have realistic design and cartoon movement, the player is going to be very confused.
I responded:
I like the way you're thinking, but it's way too late in development for me to be comfortable with switching the design. The code is designed, pixel for pixel, for this image I've been using. Switching designs means erasing months of work.

If I could have easily switched to the other design at that point, would I have? I don't know. I might have considered it, just because I wanted to know that there was an ending in the future somewhere. But maybe I wouldn't. I have it in me to be stubborn to the point of self-destruction, and that design was something worth being stubborn for.

I spent around a month trying to get the game to run on my parent's computer. I was willing to rewrite significant portions of the code I had, if it came down to that. Just anything to get it to work, to get people to play it the way it was supposed to be played. But every potential solution came with new problems. At one point I thought that maybe upgrading to the latest version of BlitzMax would fix the problems I was having, but not only did it not do that, but it also added lots of new and incomprehensible quirks to the way everything was being drawn. I downgraded very quickly. There was another function someone had made that might do what I wanted in a roundabout way, but it was imprecise.

It turned out (to my embarrassment) that the solution was actually one single line of text, which told the program to use OpenGL instead of DirectX. Apparently OpenGL doesn't have the same problems that DirectX does on certain graphics cards. I wrote that one line of code into the beginning of the program, I tried it out on parents' computer, and it worked fine.

You know, game development really doesn't come naturally to me. We Asperger types, we each have an affinity, a skill, a mutant power. Mine is music. This whole gamist thing, that's something I really had to work at. There were days where just looking at the code would sap all the energy I had, and I wanted to just go play piano instead. Do things that didn't require constant effort. But then I'd play the game for a minute. I'd launch myself into the air, and on the way down I'd wiggle my feet a little. And I'd say to myself: "Hee. I can wiggle my feet." And just like that, my faith in the game would be restored. If I was testing some specific feature of the game, and as I was doing it I suddenly had a crazy thought, I'd go back to the code and devote all my energy to making that crazy thought a reality. Because if you're not going to do that, if you're not going to really love the game you're making and believe it should be awesome, then what's the point of all the work?

So I don't know if you saw the bit where the elephant pops out of existence. Kyler didn't know about it- he only figured it out a week after I released the game. That whole section of code was just a spur-of-the-moment idea. I'd been trying to break the system, see what happened if I got really crazy with it. And it was so much fun that I decided the game ought to react to that behavior. So I programmed that in, which was of course more work than I expected. But that's the kind of work that justifies the concept of work to begin with. And even on a smaller scale, each time I played around with the algorithms and found some little spark of life I wasn't expecting in some particular combination of numbers and tweaked it over and over to bring that spark out... ah. So satisfying.

It's less satisfying when you decide to take things out. There was a lot of that. I'd intended to let the elephant roll forward if the player pushed off the back leg enough. The more I thought that part through, the more I wanted to do with that. The original idea was that once you're rolling, you can keep pressing D faster and faster to speed up the rolling. But somewhere along the line, I decided that just moving forward wouldn't quite be fun enough. So I decided that if you got fast enough, you'd basically be this big swirly elephant-ball, and if you pressed F that ball would jump (while still moving forward). If you stopped pressing D quickly, the ball would slow down until it flipped right side up again. I think this was a very fun idea, and absolutely insane. But the problem was that it would have been probably three or four extra months of work. Rolling along the ground would create a whole new set of problems to solve, the biggest one being that I just couldn't imagine what a spinning elephant should look like. I think if I had spent the months, it would probably have been worth it. But I decided to back down from that idea, which is why pushing up from the back leg has no effect in the final game.

Another thing I took out was the bird which I'd always wanted to let the player knock into. I took it out because while that would work very well in a cartoon, I couldn't figure out how it could work well in an interactive game without getting very old.

When the game was finally playable, with all the gameplay features I'd decided to include and with Kyler's gorgeous background images included (For most of the development process, this placeholder image was the entire background in the game.), all that was left was sound effects and the introduction. I decided to save the introduction for last and work on the sound effects.
Now, I'd never made any sound effects before. I'd never even learned to use BlitzMax's audio functions (which turned out to be quite simple). But from the beginning I'd figured that a game like this needed sound effects to give the movements that extra "oomph". (I don't intend to use audio again until Next Door, and that'll be for a very different sort of effect.) I'd given a lot of thought to exactly how the game should sound. So I took a headset, opened up Goldwave, made sure the room was quiet, and started making silly sounds with my voice. The first thing on my agenda was the sound the elephant would make when it walked. I kept saying "Ddh. Ddh. Ddh." into the microphone, but when I played it back it sounded too much like a guy saying "Ddh." into a microphone. So I tried to make lots of different kinds of sounds, and I played around with Goldwave's filters to smooth sounds and change their pitch and dynamics and whatever. None of it sounded right. So finally I said, "To heck with this, there's a reason movies aren't given sound effects by people making silly sounds with their voices.", and I tried to find a way to actually make a thumping sound with the objects in the computer room. (The headset's cord wouldn't go any farther.) And eventually I found out that if I put the microphone on the (somewhat hard) bed that I sit on to play on the TV, and hit the bed nearby while cupping my hand, it recorded a sound similar to how I imagined that an elephant walking should sound. Then I plugged it into the game, and it gave me such a headache. It turns out, a distinctive sound playing every half-second is not a good idea. I tried smoothing the sound to make it less offensive in extreme repetitions, but it wasn't much better.

I started to question whether making sound effects for an entire game was a good first step for someone who had never worked with audio files before. (This was before that amateurish job I did on editing my CD.) How many sound effects did I need- Ten? Twenty? How long would it take me to do all that, when the very first and most basic one was giving me this much trouble? Maybe I should just program the intro and release the game, and forget about sound effects. So I thought long and hard about what sound effects would do for the aesthetic of the game, and how I could keep some hint of that aesthetic without putting myself through hell to get there. Also, it needed to be consistent. If I was cutting out the stepping, but every other movement had a sound associated with it, then it would just seem weird that it didn't make a sound when it walked. So I decided to massively scale down my sound-effect ambitions. I identified the five sound effects I most wanted: popping, jumping, hopping, landing and the ground shaking. That was it. Those five sounds, and it would be pretty quiet overall but it would have some character to it. (I was advised that there are web sites with free sound effects, but I wasn't going to scale down my ambitions that much.)

The jump is me whispering "Hwee!", the hop is an "Oiiii" whose pitch I digitally edited a tiny bit, the pop is me making a popping sound by smacking my lips (I did it over and over again until I got a really wet-sounding one.), and the landing was me singing "dur" with my nose. Each sound took many tries to get right (I worked on them only when there was no one at home to hear me.), but eventually I got myself some sound effects which sound like sound effects, not like a guy making silly noises with his voice. The most complicated sound was the shaking of the ground, but I figured out roughly how that should work when I was thinking about how to scale down and it worked even better than I expected. First, I held my mouth as though I was making an "RRR" sound and grunted. Then I took the middle of that grunt sound, and had the game play it on top of itself from several audio channels, with each instance of the sound following the previous one by a random interval. The greater the shaking, the more audio channels would be used. And then to make it sound more random, I had each audio channel play it at a slightly different volume and pitch (assigned randomly). The end result is a continuous rumbling sound, which continues as long as the screen keeps shaking. I was very impressed by how well that turned out.

Kyler was less impressed. I sent him a link to what I considered the final version of the game, and he responded:
Well graphically and control wise, I think the game is ready.

I also think the opening screen is up for the job, though maybe it would be wise to play test it with some people who have never played it and see what happens. I suspect both of us are way to far into the game to really offer an opinion on how to teach others how to play it.

I am however not really enjoying the sound design.

I am guessing that you were going for humorous sounds. And they are humorous. But as with the drawing of the elephant vs the movement of the elephant, there needs to be contrast between serious sounds and funny sounds.

First here are some sounds that I would add

-Dry wind of the savanna. A constant atmosphere that elevates the boredom of the ground area to a maximum.
-Boring footstep sounds in the sand when Bulk moves.
-Fairly boring sand sounds when he is jumping up with one leg, these would get louder and more exciting when the player got the multiple bounces going. It will give them an indication that they are doing something new with bulk.

-I would add the sound of wind rushing by Bulk as he flies through the air, like the sound you hear if you watch a sky diving video.
-I would add some elephant trumpet noise at some point, make him seem more elephant like

-I would add something to distinguish space. This could be music, or this could be the complete lack of sound.

I would change as many of the sounds from what I suspect to be midi files, to recorded wave files of physical things. In terms of sound design aesthetics I tend to always think that more realistic and textured is better. The less repeats the better (this is a game so that is hard). If you have any control over volume and pitch in the programming, use it to vary the sounds a little bit (maybe you can assign random values to the volume within a specified range to make the footsteps vary a little bit).

What sounds could you give Bulk more life. How do elephants breath (maybe manipulate a person breathing, or a cow, or something).

So I give all these recommendations without the slightest clue of the interface for putting sound into this game. I don't know what quality you can put in, or really what controls you have over it. You might be fairly limited, I understand if my suggestion are too crazy.

I don't know if you have any recording capabilities to record any of your own sounds, but if you do, I highly recommend it.

Or I would suggest starting with a site like http://www.freesound.org . You just have to register and you can search a decent selection of recordings of all sorts of things. Think outside the box when trying to find a sound for something. Maybe the sound of sand could be the sound of snow being walked in, or gravel. An elephant might be a trumpet recording, you never really know, you just have to search and see what works.


So that is my opinion on sound, it comes from doing sound for animation, where I have ultimate control, so maybe I am asking too much.


And you do seem to be able to make great music, maybe a little intro tune might draw people in. Some of the best comments I get on my Self Portrait animation are on the music, which is some really really basic music composition. Your recordings have so much depth.


I know getting this much criticism never causes nice feelings, but it is hopefully for the best.

Just so you know, I am very impressed by the programming that controls Bulk, I can imagine how many little math things go into it to make it work just right.

Kyler
Now, I certainly did appreciate knowing exactly what Kyler thought. But I ignored everything he was saying. I wrote back:
I think I'll just test it and release it. I do appreciate that you're so honest about your opinions, and the fact that you have such clear opinions about what works and what doesn't is exactly what makes you so good. But I'm okay with the way it is now, and I think it's time to move on. If I wanted each game to be as good as I could possibly make them, then I'd still be spending all day every day working on Smilie and The Perfect Color (Believe me, there's lots I'm unhappy with in both!). But at a certain point I think I have to just say "It's good enough.", as cold as that sounds.

I have an idea for a game that would be much more in tune with your skills. I'll have to get started on planning that out. Talk to you soon.

-Mory
There was still the problem of my parents' computer. What's that, you thought I'd fixed that? Yeah, so did I. But months after the fix I checked again, and the gray rectangle was back. I had that computer run every single back-up version I had, to try to find the one where it didn't have that problem because I'd fixed it. But every single one was the same. It's as though the fix had never happened. I couldn't find any way around the problem, either. So I put some hours into creating a test that would see whether the player's computer was going to display it right (and if not, provide a disclaimer at the beginning). But the test always came back negative- I was unable to recreate the glitch in any other program but my game. And if I can't recreate it, I can't test for it. So my parents' computer is just going to be one of those mysteries of the universe. I hope no other computer has the same problem, but I have no way of knowing. In the end I just had to accept that it wasn't something I could fix.

The first person I tested the game on was Avri's wife Lorien. She tested my last two games as well. With Smilie she got the best ending on the first try, and with The Perfect Color she beat the game on the first try. So on some level, I'm just looking for reassurance that my sensibilities can conceivably make sense for someone else in the world. But she's also a good test subject because she's comfortable with computers but doesn't have experience with computer games. So it's a good way to see how the games hold up for someone who doesn't play like I would. At first she was just walking forward for a while, and didn't understand what the point was. She wasn't experimenting at all, and that was a problem. So I decided to tell her to see what would happen if she didn't hold down the arrow keys. After that, she started accidentally making things happen, and trying to recreate those movements. She couldn't quite figure it out, but she seemed to be having a certain amount of fun with what she did figure out, and that was good enough.

I went home and tried it on Dena, and the results were pretty much the same. I needed to tell her that she could press F and D without the arrows, but after that she had fun. So I went to work programming in a hint for when you spend too much time following the rules and don't decide on your own to break away. I considered putting hints in for everything you can do, but ultimately I decided that one hint was enough. I've told you that the rules are irrelevant; past that, it should be up to you. You should be proud to have figured out what you can do, and you should be able to go to your friends and say "Look what I can do!" and they'll say "I want to try that!". After Dena, I showed the game to Eli on his computer. He plays more games on the computer than I do, and his computer is much more powerful than mine, so I was particularly anxious to see what he made of it. He figured out lots almost immediately, without me needing to tell him anything. Later he showed Tamir a bunch of things you can do in the game. So I guess it works.

I released the game, to very little response, and almost immediately got started on Gamer Mom. I'm basically redefining the adventure game into something a lot healthier, in one scene set in the real world. It'll be great.

"But I could never have done it," he objected, "without everyone else's help."
"That may be true," said Reason gravely, "but you had the courage to try; and what you can do is often simply a matter of what you will do."
"That's why," said Azaz, "there was one very important thing about your quest that we couldn't discuss until you returned."
"I remember," said Milo eagerly. "Tell me now."
"It was impossible," said the king, looking at the Mathemagician.
"Completely impossible," said the Mathemagician, looking at the king.
"Do you mean----" stammered the bug, who suddenly felt a bit faint.
"Yes, indeed," they repeated together; "but if we'd told you then, you might not have gone--and, as you've discovered, so many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible."

-Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth


2010, July 23rd, 1:28 and 36 seconds

"It's A Trap!"

A fictional conversation

"Mory, the great composer! We listened to your music over and over again."

"Did you like it?"
"Okay."

"It was fabulous. We told all our friends we have a professional composer for a grandson."

"Considering that you wanted to tell your friends that, I guess your opinion of the CD doesn't mean much."
"I'm not a professional composer. It's a very amateurish CD."
"Great."

"You ought to give concerts. You could make a lot of money."

"That's not what I want to do with my life."
"I don't compose music to make money."
"Fine."

"Why would you say my opinion doesn't matter?"

"Because you would say it was great whether or not it actually was."
"Never mind."

"Oh, pish posh."

"Thank you for that insight."
Say nothing.

"Well, if you did decide to be a professional composer, we'd both be very proud."

"Sorry, but I don't make big life decisions based on what will make you the most proud."
"That's nice."

"What big life decisions? I'm just saying, if you wanted to, we wouldn't stop you."

"I'm making games, you know that."
"Well, I don't want to."

"Oh, you don't want money?"

"It's not exactly a driving force in my life."
"I just compose to amuse myself. It's a hobby."

"You're right. It's terrible."

I pull a slip of paper out of my pocket, on which I've written "It's terrible.". "Is this your card?"
"Okay."

"I was going to ask you to come with us to a restaurant, but I don't want to be insulted.

"Deborah! Do you know how your son insulted me?"

"Then just think of how famous you'd be."

"I'm not a good pianist."
"Sure."

"Well, I think you are."

"And I think coming from you that doesn't tell me anything."
"Thank you."

"And wouldn't it be great if you could have a hobby and get paid for it?"

"Then it wouldn't be a hobby, it'd be a job, and I'd be under pressure to devote a lot more of my time to it."
"Please, just stop pushing. I'm not becoming a professional pianist."

"You could do both!"

"Making games is what I'm going to do with my life. Music is not. I don't see why this is so hard to understand."
"Right, I'll do that."

"I don't see why not."

"That doesn't bother me."
"Just because I'm good at something doesn't mean I particularly care about it."

"What difference does it make what you call it? So call it a hobby."

"I'm not going to take people's money and do the sort of job I did with that CD."
"You're right. You're right about everything. I'm going to go change my life to better suit your expectations, because you've convinced me of the error of my ways."

"Just remember that if you ever decide to use your talents, your grandparents are behind you."

"Sure, until you decide you'd like me to do something else, and then it won't be good enough anymore."
"You've never been behind me. You don't care what I'm doing or how I'm doing it, you just want to be able to use me as a talking point with your friends. You're pathetic."
"I'll keep that in mind."

"I can understand just fine. I'm an intelligent person. Just don't insult my intelligence, okay? I happen to be very intelligent. You don't need to tell me that I don't understand.

"Deborah! Why can't your son treat his grandmother with a little respect?"

"There's no need to be rude. I'm just trying to talk to you like a civilized person, and everything I say, you spit back in my face.

"Deborah! Didn't you ever teach your son to be polite?"

"I think it does."

"Well, I don't really care what you think. It's my life, and I'm going to use it as I see fit. Your opinions are not even a part of my thought process."
"Then we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"You don't know what you're talking about. The CD was wonderful."

"No, of course I don't know what I'm talking about. Why would I know anything about my own life? But you, you always know. You always know exactly what I should be doing, how I should be living my life. It must be nice for everything to be so clear. I wonder if you ever had such clarity about your own life."
"Thank you."

"You can't do any wrong by me. I'm your grandmother!"

"Do you ever listen to yourself? Everything you ever say to me is a hint, or a suggestion, or laying on the guilt. And you're not even subtle about it!"
"Don't remind me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't."
"Sorry. I must be reading more into what you're saying than was intended. I do that sometimes."

"Listen, we're taking Miriam and Dena to eat somewhere nice. Would you like to come?"

"No."
"I'm busy."
"Okay, but maybe we should lay down some ground rules first."
"Sure."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, first off: no manipulations. No trying to guilt me into doing things for you. No not-so-subtle hints, which you immediately deny afterwards."
"I just don't want to discuss my life with you."

"Can I talk to you about your music?"

"I'd prefer if you didn't."
"Only if you don't tell me that it's good, or that you like it, or anything like that. It always feels patronizing."

"What about the games you're making?"

"No."
"I guess you could, as long as you don't bring up anything related to money."

"Will you permit me to talk to you about your acting career?"

"No. No. Not if you're going to call it an 'acting career'."
"You can talk about acting."

"You know what, you can stay here. I don't want to be with a person who's going to tell me what I can or can't talk about."

In the weeks ahead, this conversation is going to be mentioned with much indignation every time my parents or I are within earshot of my grandparents.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't. And another thing: no bribes. It makes me uncomfortable when you give me gifts for no apparent reason."
"Hmm. Maybe it would be better to just not talk at all. You can talk to the girls, right?"
"I was afraid you'd say that. On second thought, I'm not going."

"Maybe we want to talk to our grandson, who we've come halfway around the world to spend some time with."

"I thought you had come for Miriam's wedding, not to spend time with me."
"Well, I don't want to talk. It never goes well."

"I can talk to whoever I please."

"No, you can't. When you talk to people, you offend them. Most people just ignore that about you, but it's not in my personality to ignore things like that."
"Then I can't come with you."

"You have a lot of nerve, talking like that to your grandmother."

They leave, but not before telling my mother what a terrible grandson I am. This conversation is going to be something they complain about for quite some time.

I push aside all the warning bells and agree to go along. At first I try to be polite and just allow them to insult me like a good grandson would, but they keep pushing, keep ignoring and disregarding all my opinions, keep forcing me into insipid little chit-chat, keep offering gifts to make me feel indebted to them. Finally I can take no more and let them know exactly how their behavior is making me feel. This only exacerbates the awkwardness of the evening, and by the time we get home my mother has many hours' worth of complaints about me to look forward to.

All things considered, that was not my best move.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because we all know from experience exactly how it's going to turn out."
"How shall I put this. Our personalities... tend to clash."
"Umm.. I'm busy."
"No reason."

"Then come on. We're leaving in a minute."

"I'd rather not."
"Fine."

"And why is that?"

"Because we all know from experience exactly how it's going to turn out."
"How shall I put this. Our personalities... tend to clash."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. We're your grandparents."

"It's true. I always say exactly what I'm thinking, and you never say what you're really thinking."
"So what?"

"What do you mean, so what? Come on, we'll have a good time."

"When has it ever been a good time?"
"Yeah, I don't think so. I'll have a good time on my own."

"Don't you remember all those great times when you stayed by us?"

"You mean the times that I spent 24 hours each day watching TV and you kept giving me nice food until I told you that it was making me uncomfortable and you refused to listen? Those times? Yeah, those times were great!"
"No comment."

"You had fun."

"No I didn't."
Stay silent.

They keep arguing, but I've had enough so I stay silent and pretend I'm tuning them out. They'll be talking about how rude I was for a very long time, but at least they're leaving.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Just come with us, it would make us very happy."

"After the way you've treated me all my life, you being happy is not a situation I want to encourage."
"You'll be fine without me."

"What did we ever do that was so terrible?"

So I run down the list: trying to change me, not respecting me, wanting me to be more normal, continually insulting me with plausible deniability, mocking my religion, etc. And as I run through the list they try to scream over me, because they'll hear none of it, and by the time I'm done the "conversation" has gotten so loud that the entire family gets involved and they won't leave for a half hour. Good going.

"Please?"

"No."
Ignore them.

Finally they leave. Thank God.

"That sounds lonely."

"Well, it's better to be lonely by yourself than lonely in a crowd, that's what I always say."
"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."
"You know, I think I am."
"You bet."
"I couldn't be more certain."
"Pretty sure."
"Yes."

Tearing up a little: "Why do you not want to come with us?"

"Just get going already, willya?"
"Because I just don't."

Finally they leave, but they'll be talking about what an inconsiderate grandson I am for a long while.

"That's a sad thing to say."

"Well, as I recall you've had some real downers of expressions yourself. What was it you used to say to us... 'If you don't get the life you want, want the life you get'- pretty depressing stuff."
"But true."

"Is that what you feel like around us? Lonely in a crowd?"

"Yes."
"No, of course not!"
"Who, me? I was just saying things. I didn't mean anything by them."

"You can't mean that."

"I mean it."
"Okay."

"Okay, if you hate us that much we'll go."

And true to their word, they do. But this is not forgotten- it will be complained about many times. There was probably a better way to handle that.

"So do you want to come?"

"Ah, so it was a trap. Very clever."
"No, I don't think so."
"...sure."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Awfully convenient."
"Yes you do."
"Sure."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Yes. I'm trying to tell you that I can't stand the way you insult my intelligence."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tearing up a little: "Listen, I don't know what problems you have, but we're your grandparents and we'd very much like you to come so you're coming."

"Go already! You want to eat, go! Eat! Stop talking to me and go!"
"You don't actually want me to come. You might think you do, but you don't."

"Don't tell me what I want, okay? We want to spend time with you."

"Why?"
"Then I'm sorry, but I'll have to disappoint. There's no use arguing, because I'm not coming."

"Tell me why not! Tell me why you're arguing this much to get out of getting some food with your grandparents, who won't be here forever!"

"Because the arguing would be worse if I did go with you."
"What's there to argue about? I'm just minding my own business here, and you won't leave me alone!"
"Okay."

"Okay, if it's such a hardship to go with your grandparents, then fine. You don't need to come and make us happy. It's not such a hardship, to make your grandparents happy."

They're pissed off, but they leave. And that's something.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because all we ever do is argue. Can you remember a single time we got together and didn't argue?"
"You know what, just respect that I'm trying to get out of arguments here. It doesn't come naturally to me."

"I can see that!"

"I don't want to add any stress to the wedding, so I'm trying to stay away from you and not argue. Why won't you let me do that?"
"Good."

She throws her arms up in a theatrical gesture of defeat, and they all leave.

The complaints leveled against me will be mild, so maybe this is a victory, of sorts. But make no mistake, there will be complaining, and it's not going to stop until they leave after the wedding. Considering that my mother specifically asked me to avoid putting her in that situation, I do feel a bit guilty. There was probably a better way to handle this.

"Why won't we let you stay away from us and make us miserable?!" And with a not-entirely-successful puppydog look: "We love you, and we want to spend time with you."

"The feeling isn't mutual."
"Sorry."

"How dare you? How dare you? We came here, in a lot of physical pain, entirely for you. And you have the gall to treat your grandparents like this, who never wanted anything other than the best for you!"

They finally leave, but this isn't close to being over.

They finally get so exasperated that they leave. They'll try again tomorrow.

"We never argue."

"I don't even know what to say to that."

"Say you'll come."

"No."
"Leave me alone."

Fine! It's not like we really wanted to see you, we just came halfway around the world, with great physical pain, to spend time with you but fine, we never wanted to in the first place. You little brat! You just sit there and ignore us! We are your grandparents! We are very disappointed!"

..and exhale. They're gone. For now. But they'll be back soon enough, and the arguing will continue.

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, nothing."
"Right."
"Goodbye."

"Why won't you answer me?"

"I thought the question was rhetorical."
"There's nothing to say."
"Because you don't want to know the answer."

"It wasn't!"

"Oh."
Say nothing.

"Why won't you come with us?"

"Because I can't stand you, okay? Are you happy now? I can't stand you! I can't stand spending time with you, I can't stand the way you talk and the way you think and every time we get together it's really painful!"
"I dunno."
"I'm not going to answer that question."

"We're going now, and we're going to eat. You don't have to come, no one's forcing you. You can do what you like. But when we get back, you are going to explain what you meant by that."

This conversation has been going on for so long that they've finally lost interest. But it's not over, not by a long shot. As soon as everyone gets back from eating, the conversation will continue. And it'll be a lot harder to get out of talking then.

It's a good thing this conversation is just in my head, because in real life I wouldn't be able to walk back from that. The idea here is to avoid arguments, not incite them.

"Because you're our grandson!"

"No, that's not enough. Look, we've never had a positive relationship. I remember you guys throwing me in a garbage can for fun when I was a kid, and treating me like a baby when I was a little older, and pushing me into being more normal, but I don't have a single positive memory involving either of you. So why do you do it? Do you just enjoy making people unhappy?"
"Okay. Goodbye."

"You are being extremely rude. You know what, I don't even want you to come."

"I'm glad to hear it."
Stay silent.

They go downstairs to complain, and that takes twenty minutes or so, and then they finally leave. To be clear: the complaining has only just begun. It will last days.

I decide to try acting like my grandparents. Nothing ever means anything, even when it does. It's just a few hours, I can handle it. So I go along.

When they say things that offend me, I say to myself "They don't know what they're saying." and pretend they didn't mean it. When they hint that I should change my life, I think "Stop reading into things." and pretend they didn't say anything. Everything is light and fluffy and brainless, nothing means anything at all. Words don't mean what they seem like they mean, they're just arbitrary sounds coming out of mouths. No emotions, no opinions. Just for a few hours.

But it's not just for a few hours. This meal makes my grandparents so happy that they never leave me alone again. All through the week of the wedding, they keep coming over to chat. And even after they go back to America, they keep sending letters and making phone calls and even commenting on my blog! Everything I ever do, they're going to scrutinize and disapprove of and bug me about.

I knew I shouldn't be spending time with them, and I didn't listen to myself. What the heck is wrong with me?

"It'll be fun."

"When has it ever been fun, being with you?"
"Then it's very nice of you to ask. But no."

"It's 'If you don't get what you like,'-"

"Yeah, that. Well, I like being right here. And I don't think I'm going to be going with you."
"How did you ever get such a depressing worldview?"

"Okay."

And they leave. That was surprisingly easy.

"It's not depressing at all, it's just practical."

"Yeah, quash all hope for the future, settle for whatever comes your way... certainly more practical than my ambitions."
"Listen, I don't really feel like going out with you right now, but maybe some other time."

"You're reading too much into what I say."

"Then I hope you won't read too much into me saying that I don't want to come with you."
"Yeah, maybe I am. Okay, I'll come with you. It'll be fun."

"But why not?"

"No reason, I just don't feel like it. Maybe some other time."
"Because I've got things to do. Otherwise I'd come."

"We always tell you exactly what we think. We love you very much, that's what we think."

"I don't buy it. I haven't spoken to you in years. When I went to America last November, I didn't go to Florida. When you call long-distance, I pass the phone on to Miriam and Dena. There's no way what you're feeling toward me now is love. But you won't come out and say what you actually think, because you never say what you actually think."
"That's a whitewashed version of the truth. And since you only ever give whitewashed versions of the truth, I don't feel comfortable being around you."

Starting to cry: "You don't think your grandparents love you?"

"No, I don't think you love me. You take pride in my achievements, and it gives you something to brag to your friends about, but that's not love."
"You know what, I have no idea what you feel because it's the last thing you'd ever talk about."

"We love you. There, now you know."

"That's not a real emotion, it's just a social convention that you're supposed to say that to your family. I don't love you, though."
"Okay. That's very informative."

"Well, if you don't care, then don't act like you need to know!"

"Okay. I don't care."
Stay silent.

"You're just trying to hurt me. Of course you love your grandparents."

"Why, because you've given me so many presents? Because you buy me food every time you see me? Because you pretend you like the things I do?"
"No. I don't. Sorry."

They go downstairs to tell my mother what a terrible person I am, and then they go. This would be okay if not for the outrage they're going to display in the coming days over this.

"We don't pretend! We really love you!"

"Drop the act already! It's not appealing to me! I don't care about your social rules, I don't care about how you're "supposed to" act! Can't you be honest to me for one moment in your life?"
"You would say that in any event, just because I'm your grandson and it's the proper thing to say."

Agressively pushing out tears now: "Why do you hate me?"

"Why aren't you listening to what I'm saying, instead of ignoring me and playing for sympathy?"
"I don't hate you. I am very... frustrated by the way you treat me."

"Oh, would you prefer if I act like you? If I pretend that I hate you, and that I hate everything you do?"

"Only if it's actually true."
"I'd prefer if you don't pretend anything at all."
"Is that what you think I'm doing? You think I'm pretending to dislike the way you talk to me?"

"Well, I can't imagine why!"

"Leave me alone, please."
"Okay."

And they do, but not before telling everyone what I terrible grandson I am.

"Explain it to us. We don't understand."

"You've never tried to."
"Everything you stand for, I find offensive. And everything I stand for, you find offensive. So let's stop pretending we want to have anything to do with each other, okay?"

"Then we're trying to now."

Maybe there's hope for them yet.
Maybe this will end exactly the way it always does.
I honestly don't know.

In a rare moment of decency, they leave without arguing any more.

"You're a brat, do you know that?"

"Finally we're getting some honest feelings. You know what, yes, I do prefer this."
"Okay."

"What's there to listen to? You're just saying hateful things!"

"No, I'm saying the truth. Honesty is a basic sign of respect and decency, and I wish you could do the same for me."
"How is it hateful to stand up for myself? All these things you do which you think are supposed to make me feel good, they actually make me really uncomfortable! And you're not interested in hearing about that! So how am I the one that's being hateful here?"

"We treat you like a grandson, and you treat us like dirt."

"You treat me like a stereotype of a grandson, and I'm treating you like a fellow human being."
"I'm sorry you feel that way. It wasn't my intention to offend."

"Well, thank you. You're so kind."

They leave in a huff. My mother is going to hear about this later.

"Human beings don't treat each other like this."

"No, of course not. Human beings use each other, they lie to each other, but God forbid they should ever be honest."
"Okay. Then I guess I'm an alien."

After complaining to my mother, they all go out to get some food. My grandmother will still be shaken by the conversation, and will keep trying to figure out what's wrong with me. This is will be mitigated only slightly by my sisters' reassurances: "It's just Mory. He's stupid."

When they get back, and until everyone leaves after the wedding, my mother is going to hear about this continuously. This is exactly the sort of trouble she asked me not to get her into.

"What could you be busy with, that's more important than spending time with your grandparents?"

"A lot of things are more important to me than spending time with my grandparents."
"You wouldn't be interested."
"Stuff."
"I'm busy."

"Well, stop and come with us. We'll get some nice food."

"I'd rather continue what I'm doing."
"Have fun."

"What, you're not coming?"

"Yeah."
"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm busy."
"Don't worry about me. Just go."

"Yes, you said that."

"Right."
"Mm."

"We'll be going any minute now."

"No, go on without me, I'll be okay."
"Mm."

"We'd very much like you to come."

Stubbornly: "I don't want to go, though."
With an understanding smile: "Oh, that's very considerate. But don't worry, I'll be fine here."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to get into a whole long argument with you again."
"I'm busy, I have things to do."

"Why would we argue?"

"Because we always argue. That's what happens every time we get together, even for a short time. And I'd like to avoid that. So go, have fun."
"I have no idea."

"No. We are not leaving this house until you're coming with us."

"Is it really necessary to make a scene? I'm not coming! You'll live."
"Okay. You win."

With a sudden, melodramatic breakdown, which makes the words come out less easily: "No, I won't live! I'm not going to live for much longer, and I'd like to spend some time with my grandson before I go. Is that too much to ask?"

"It was a poor choice of words. I apologize."
"I don't appreciate you playing the cancer card. This is exactly the sort of behavior that I'm not interested in putting up with."
"Okay, I'll come, I'll come! I'll come. Just calm down."

"You know what, I don't want you to come with us. You are being very nasty and disrespectful and you should be ashamed of yourself. So don't bother trying to argue, you're not allowed to come. And maybe while you're here and hungry, you can think about how you can make it up to us, because you owe us to be nice to us before it's too late."

And with that, they're off. This conversation will not be forgotten, but at least for a little while the house will be quiet.

"Well, excuse me for dying! I'm so sorry to inconvenience you, with whatever it is you're doing that is so important!

"We're not going to get food. I'm not in the mood now. So no one is going to get a nice dinner, because of you. I hope you're happy."

With that one move, she's turned my entire family (immediate and extended) against me. I am now one wrong move away from being excommunicated for life. How did I go so wrong so fast?

Finally they get tired of talking, and so they leave. A pleasant evening is had by all.

"Like what?"

"Like working on things."
"What do you want from me?"

"What are you working on?"

"Okay, you caught me. I'm not working on anything, I just don't want to go with you."
"My games."

With an intensely hurt expression: "I just want to know what's so important, that's it's worth avoiding your grandparents for."

"I just don't want to go with you."
"I'm doing something for my game."

"Well, I can see that! But I don't understand why you wouldn't want to come with us."

"I think you do."
"Okay."
"You don't need to."

"This is silly. Stop whatever it is that you're doing and come with us."

"I'd rather not."
"Like I said, I'm busy."

"Yes, well, it doesn't matter. We're your grandparents and we're here and we're asking you to come with us. This isn't even a question."

"I thought you said you were asking."
"And I am telling you that I am busy. I am busy. I am busy. I am too busy to come. Why aren't you listening to me?"

"Because you're being silly."

"It is my right to be silly. I am going to stand up for that right."
"Well, I'm busy."

"I am, but there's a right answer."

"That answer is no."
"I am busy."

They finally leave. But they'll return, and when they do they'll redouble their efforts. It'll only get harder from here on.

With a teary face and an oversized smile: "Couldn't you do it later?"

"I'd rather do it now."
"No."

I find something to look busy with, and they leave without a fuss.

"It's food. Have you decided that you don't like food now?"

"Yep, that's it. Can't stand the stuff."
"Don't play dumb, you know perfectly well this isn't about food."

"I have no idea what this is about. I can't imagine a reason why a grandson wouldn't want to spend time with his grandparents."

"Every time we spend any time together, it ends with a big argument. And Imma has asked me to try to avoid arguments. This is me avoiding arguments."
"I'm not sure I can explain it to you, then."
"I just don't feel like it."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"When has it ever been fun, being with you?"
"Go on without me."

"We'd be lonely without you."

"And I'd be lonely with you."
"No it wouldn't. You'll be fine. Go."

"Now, that's just not nice. You shouldn't insult your grandparents like that.

And they leave. There will be much complaining about this later, but for now I'm safe.

"You can't tell us whether or not we'll be fine."

"Well, you certainly can't tell me where to go. You have no influence over my life. None. So get out of here."
"Okay."

I don't think that's the tone I want to take here. I'm not supposed to be starting big arguments, remember?

"We really want you to come with us. We'll be very unhappy if you stay here."

"Well, just don't make anyone else unhappy for it, okay? Because I'm staying here."
"Cheer up! You've got two granddaughters who like you. You don't need me."

Ignoring my advice, they make everyone unhappy about this. Good going, Mory.

"Don't talk like that! We love you all equally."

"That's a pity."
"No you don't. You love them more. So go, have fun. Leave me in peace."

"Come with us."

"No."
"I think we've been over this already."

Finally they get sick of arguing and leave. Everyone has a pleasant evening.

"Well, try."

"Every time we spend any time together, it ends with a big argument. And Imma has asked me to try to avoid arguments. This is me avoiding arguments."
"If you think a grandson necessarily has to enjoy spending time with his grandparents, just because they're related, then you probably won't understand."
"Let's not do this."

"No, please do."

"Every time we spend any time together, it ends with a big argument. And Imma has asked me to try to avoid arguments. This is me avoiding arguments."
"I am not the sort of person who cares about practicality, or social norms, or anything like that. In fact, I'm going to go out of my way to avoid those things because I consider them to be clichés. And these are the things you care about, and try to push me to care about. And I'm not going to care about them."

"You call common sense a cliché?! You could do worse than to make something of your life, instead of..."

..and they're off. Don't bother trying to stop this argument, it's too late. The food is forgotten, and the arguing will last all night.

"Then you don't need to enjoy it, you just need to tolerate it because we're here and want to spend time with you. It wouldn't kill you to think of other people for a change."

"I am thinking of other people. Me going with you wouldn't be good for anyone."
"Let's say I go get food with you. Then what? Then we'd have to talk, and I'd be offended by what you say to me because I always get offended by the things which you say, and then you'll be offended by the fact that I'm offended, and it'll just be unpleasant all around."

"I don't care. I'm not going to be around forever, so you'd better believe you're coming with us."

"Look, I'm trying to treat you like a person, I'm trying to explain this rationally without being too condescending, but you're not making it easy."
"You don't actually want me to come. You might think you do, but you don't."

"Well, you're doing a terrible job. If you want to treat me like a person, then treat me like a person and have a little compassion."

"What do you want from me?"
If I go with you, do I have to talk to you?

"I don't want anything. I just want you to come get some food with us."

"Yes, but that's not true. You always want something. You want me to make money, or you want me to move to America, or you want me to stop being religious, or you want me to spend more time with you in the future... it's always something, there's always an agenda."
"Just food."

"I don't know what you're expecting. Yes, just food."

"I'm expecting that you'll start making lots of hints and accusations. You know, like always. You don't just want food, you want me to change."
"...okay. Just food."

It's not just food.

At the restaurant, they keep telling me that I ought to do concerts and go to college and work for a company and try to make lots of money and move to America and live the American dream of old-fashioned family values and Reform Judaism and capitalism and apple pie.

And I don't like apple pie.

"You said it would just be food tonight."

"It is! We're eating, this is just a friendly conversation."

It's a very unpleasant evening. Well, for me at least- everyone else seems to be having a blast. I take the bullet because after all that arguing earlier, it seems like there was no easier way. But this is the last time I ever do this, the last time I play the good little victim. The last time I act the way my mother would in the same situation. After tonight I stop humoring them. After tonight, that blog post goes public.

"All we've ever wanted is what's best for you."

"And you get to decide what that is! But you've never understood me, so you have no idea what that is!"
"Always a ready rationalization. 'What's best for me.' But it's not true. You always want what's best for you."
"I disagree."

With some sort of attempted hybrid of sob and laugh: "How am I supposed to understand you if you won't even talk to me?"

"By listening, rather than substituting your own expectations. Ask me a question. Anything. I'll tell you straight, because that's the sort of person I am. I'm not the sort of person who plays games with information, I'll just come out and tell you. I am the easiest person to get to know in the world."
"If twenty-two years wasn't enough time to understand me, what difference is today going to make?"

"No, you can just sit there. You don't need to talk."

So I go with them, and do my best to ignore them the entire time we're eating. Meanwhile, they spend all their time not socializing with my sisters (who'd actually enjoy it), but trying to get a big reaction out of me. It's a game to them- they talk about me in the third person, knowing I want to respond but also knowing I don't want to argue. They get to say whatever they want, and they try to annoy me with each and every statement. Eventually I'll crack, I'll argue, and they'll win. But I don't, so they don't stop all night. This was a mistake.

They stand around for a few seconds, as though they're trying to think of something they could ask.

"You're just being rude. You wouldn't talk to us if we were the nicest people in the world. We don't want you to come."

They leave in a very cranky mood. And if they're unhappy, no one around them should be happy either.

"What twenty-two years? You've been out of our lives! You abandoned us, and you never come back to visit. Do you think we wanted you to move to Israel?"

"Cut it out! Cut it out already! We are not moving back to America. Fifteen years, and you still won't let it go!"
"I'm done talking to you now."

"It's not easy when your family leaves you!"

"It's even less easy when your family won't leave you! I thought you wanted to go eat!"
"We didn't even live next to each other! We were in New Jersey, you were in Florida!"

"No, we did live in New Jersey. We saw you all the time."

"And then you moved to Florida, because it was more important to do what was best for you than it was to stay in touch with us. And that's how it's supposed to be. People aren't supposed to stay together to their own detriment, they live their own lives and their family ought to let them do that."
"We were never going to move to Florida with you. But that's beside the point. We're in Israel, and there's no good that can come from this constant complaining about it! We shouldn't need to feel guilty for doing what's right for us!"

"It's right for you to forget about your family?"

"Heh. You know, anyone else but me would now try to calm you down, and say 'We didn't forget about you!'. Because it's not like you haven't been in constant contact all this time. But me, I don't feel like indulging your little games. So I'm not going to talk you down. You want to act like we forgot about you? Go right on ahead! But go do it somewhere else, because I'm not interested."
"Judging from the past few minutes, yes. Absolutely. It is right for us to be as far away from you as we possibly can."
Be silent.

"Oh, you're going to ignore us now? Well, why stop now? You've always ignored us before!"

When they finally leave, they make sure to slam the door behind them.

"How dare you talk to your grandparents that way!"

They leave, and even as they're gone they're still talking about how nasty I was. I can't say I blame them, either. I did go too far.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, we never were able to do anything in your lives. Okay? You ran away where there was no danger of that ever happening."

"We're running in circles here. I'm done talking to you."
"Then you'll understand that I don't feel any deep connection to you that would compel me to go to dinner with you."

"We'll talk later. You have a lot to answer for."

"I don't care if you did go to the other side of the world and never talked to us, we're still your family and you need to come with us."

"No."
Stay silent.

They leave, but they're awfully riled up. This is going to come back to hurt me later.

With a sudden torrent of crying: "Is that how you see me? As some sort of monster?"

"Not a monster, just not someone I want to spend time with."
"I see you as a person who is never honest with me, for even a second. Every time you say anything, I need to think 'What does she actually mean by that?'. And I'm sick of it. So no, I'm not going to go with you. It won't help to make a scene."

"You can decide where we'll get the food."

"I'm not interested in playing these games with you. Please just leave me alone."
"That's a very nice offer, but still I'm going to say no."

Agressively pushing out tears now: "You know, you're not going to have this opportunity to spend time with your grandparents for much longer. Is it so terrible to spend time with your grandparents?"

"In my experience, yes."
"There's no need to make this more uncomfortable than it has to be. Just go already. Please."

"No, no, you're coming with us. We came halfway around the world to see you, and the least you can do, the very least you can possibly do is spend a little time with us. So you don't have a choice."

"I thought you had come for Miriam's wedding, not to spend time with me."
"I don't want to argue with you!"

"Then stop arguing and come!"

"If I come with you, it's just going to turn into an argument, and then you'll be complaining to Imma and saying "Why does your son have to argue with us?", and she specifically asked me not to let that happen! If I go with you, Imma suffers for it. So no, I'm going to sit here. And you can go off and have a great time, but I'm not coming."
"Okay, fine. If it's going to be an argument either way, then I guess I have to come."

"I think we know how to talk to our own daughter. And you need to learn how to talk to your elders. We are wiser than you and we have the experience of years and you shouldn't insult us like this."

Hm. That could have gone worse, I think.

"We came for both! And we're here now, and we won't be here again, and if you don't come with us you're going to regret it for the rest of your life!"

"No, I think I'll be okay."
"I'm sorry that you feel like you came for me. I can't help you."

Now it's not just a few tears, but the most pathetic crying I've ever seen, with the words choked out between sobs but still yelled so that anyone nearby should hear: "Oh, just go already! Just die already and stop loving and caring!"

"Who are these tears supposed to impress? You think watching you make a fool of yourself like this, I'm suddenly going to want to spend time with you more?!"
Say nothing and wait for her to stop.

"Do you like making your grandmother cry? Do you like seeing me out of control? Do you hate your grandmother so much that even when she's dying of leukemia, you won't even go out to dinner with her?"

"The fact that you're crying, the fact that you're my grandmother, even the fact that you're dying, I don't see why any of that should effect me. I only care about people who I can relate to, on some miniscule level. Nothing about your behavior makes any sense to me. You never tell me what you actually think about things, you never really listen to what I think about things, it's all phoniness and manipulations. Sometimes I'm not even sure if we're the same species!"
"I'm sorry you feel that way."

She runs off crying and yelling. No one in the family will ever forgive me for this.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to let me spend time with you before it's too late."

Say nothing, and hope she goes away.
"I'll tell you what. I'll come on the condition that you stop trying to manipulate me for these few hours. Okay?"

She keeps crying and yelling, but I stay silent and eventually they all leave without me. The house is quiet for a little while. It's not a good day, but at least I made it through.

She walks off without another word. I'll never hear the end of this.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..." And there's a game I play with a friend of mine, where I play something which sounds really serious on the piano, and then just as it's reaching its climax, I switch to this cheery little "space battle" theme, dah-bada-da-bada-da-da-da. So there could be a "space battle" track which sounds like epic science fiction music -"Like John Williams"- Yeah, exactly, and then that resolves, but then I keep sticking in these tracks in between the other music, which sounds like totally new and serious compositions, but always turn back into the goofy little classical theme.


2010, July 21st, 16:22 and 30 seconds

Multiplayer

Thursday, March 11, 2010

(11:42:42 PM) Mory: Hello.
(11:42:45 PM) Benjy: hi!
(11:43:09 PM) Mory: I didn't have a chance to celebrate my birthday until today, because I've been too busy.
(11:43:47 PM) Mory: So I invited all my (few) friends to come over and play videogames at any time during the day, same as in the last two years.
(11:43:57 PM) Mory: One person showed up, and around 8:00.
(11:44:01 PM) Mory: PM, that is.
(11:44:30 PM) Mory: I had fun with him, but that was just the end of the day. The rest of the day was just waiting. So I'm pretty unhappy about how this went.
(11:44:43 PM) Benjy: i'm sorry! that sounds terrible
(11:44:49 PM) Mory: Yeah.
(11:44:58 PM) Benjy: do it again next week with a fixed time...?
(11:45:04 PM) Mory: No.
(11:45:42 PM) Mory: I didn't want to start anything while I was waiting, because my friends could show up at any minute and I'd have to stop. So I just waited for nine and a half hours or so.
(11:45:46 PM) Mory: Yes, it was terrible.
(11:45:52 PM) Benjy: damn
(11:45:52 PM) Mory: And no, I'm never going to try this again.
(11:46:00 PM) Benjy: blah
(11:46:09 PM) Benjy: well i would have showed up if i could...
(11:46:12 PM) Mory: Ha!
(11:46:16 PM) Benjy: but i wasn't invited ;)
(11:46:31 PM) Mory: If you were here I'd be playing multiplayer games more regularly, no? And then I wouldn't need to set this up at all.
(11:46:45 PM) Benjy: ah, true
(11:47:17 PM) Mory: Speaking of which, I finished Super Mario Bros. a little while back. I'm almost at the second unlockable level now.
(11:47:32 PM) Benjy: unlockable as in world 9?
(11:47:33 PM) Mory: I think I have two more Star Coins to get for it.
(11:47:35 PM) Mory: Yeah.
(11:47:40 PM) Mory: I passed the first one.
(11:47:47 PM) Mory: (9-1)
(11:47:56 PM) Benjy: i was playng with tristyn, we couldn't get past 9-1, and it was getting boring
(11:48:00 PM) Mory: Okay.
(11:48:16 PM) Mory: After the end of the game is when it really becomes a hardcore game.
(11:48:25 PM) Mory: So it's perfectly understandable to stop there.
(11:48:36 PM) Mory: The final level is terrific, it's a good end point.
(11:48:56 PM) Mory: And it's not so hard that the average player shouldn't be able to pass it eventually
(11:48:57 PM) Mory: .
(11:49:10 PM) Benjy: cool, maybe i will again
(11:49:15 PM) Benjy: got sidetracked on Lost for a while...
(11:49:21 PM) Mory: No, I mean the final level of world 8.
(11:49:22 PM) Benjy: it took up the time slot that was going to Mrio
(11:49:23 PM) Mory: You've passed it.
(11:49:27 PM) Benjy: oh yeah, that was hard!
(11:49:34 PM) Mory: Yeah, but you passed it.
(11:49:39 PM) Benjy: yup
(11:49:45 PM) Benjy: you did that as one player, wow
(11:49:48 PM) Mory: Yes.
(11:49:48 PM) Benjy: it was hard enough with 2
Why is it that out of the seven people I invited, only Avri showed up? Some of them were too busy. One of them got his dates mixed up. And the rest just forgot.

That same evening, two girls from Washington D.C. came to stay at our house as part of an organized program. Don't ask me to tell you much about them because I really don't know. I only spoke with them briefly over the next two days. I don't even remember what they looked like, other than that one of them kept wearing astonishingly short miniskirts. But what I do remember is that they said they played videogames. Now, maybe in America that's not a big deal. Maybe everyone plays videogames together there, just like in the commercials. But here in Israel it seems like games are only played by little kids and male nerds. Benjy played games, and when I was younger I enjoyed watching him play and playing with him and giving him new things to try. But he's been living in America for years now. The rest of my family... well, there's no need to keep going over it. They're just not interested. So a pair of girls who were at all interested in videogames -that was kind of a revelation. I told them about the games I had made and was making, and they didn't immediately lose interest like everyone else does.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

After Shabbat, I started playing piano like I often do. But these two girls, they actually listened. The most I usually get is "Oh, that's nice. Could you be a little quieter?". No, that's a lie. Usually I'm just ignored. But these two, they listened and then they let me play an original piece and they actually sat through the whole thing and acted like they enjoyed it. And since I had their attention, I then took the opportunity to show off the games I've made. And believe me when I tell you, it is not every day that I get to do that. I then showed them the piece of paper that showed the structure I had so far for the epic blog post I vs. I. One of them turned the paper over, wrote their e-mail addresses so I could send them links to my games and music, and under that she wrote "MORY = COOL". I didn't know how to respond to that. On the one hand, she was almost certainly patronizing me. On the other hand, I'd never heard the words "Mory" and "cool" used together. "Weird", sure. "Insane" is common, especially from Avri. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I get a "talented". But on the long list of words you'd be likely to describe me with, "cool" wouldn't even make the top 200. So maybe she was actually mocking me, maybe she wasn't. I'm not sure I care to know one way or the other. I kept the paper.


The girls left, and life went back to its normal routine. Six days by myself, and then one day where I get to hang out with friends. One day where they'll have the time to talk to me, because they don't have anything more important to be doing. And as soon as Shabbat ends, I have to retreat to my computer because no one has any reason to put up with me anymore. Why was it, that I could interact more with these two strangers than with my own friends? There was something wrong with that! So I'd just have to find some new friends. I decided that, at some point after finishing part 2 of the blog, I'd write up the story of how my friends wouldn't come over and these girls did. I decided that that would be the very beginning of a long and exciting post.

Multiplayer

2010, October 3rd, 15:52 and 36 seconds

Moshe's finally been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. I've been telling him for years that he was like me, but he kept insisting (not convincing me in the slightest) that it was just ADD. That's Moshe for you- he doesn't really want to hear anyone else's interpretation of things, he just wants to repeat whatever he's comfortable with and hope for the best. But now there's some psychiatrist backing me up. So he'll finally admit that he has Asperger's Syndrome, but not before emphasizing that it's really such a mild case, he's not strange like me, he's perfectly normal except for this silly little diagnosis which is barely even true. I understood that he waited until yesterday to tell me this because he wasn't looking forward to the "I told you so.". "I did tell you so.", I said to him.

Moshe may be the only person in the world who actually looks up to me. Often this makes me embarrassed, especially when he starts painting a picture of me so overwhelmingly positive that I know I can't possibly live up to it. He spends all day doing whatever he's told he ought to do, while I spend all day doing whatever I think and feel I ought to do. "I'm not like you.", he says over and over a million ways, "There are other people who are more important!". He told me that by his counting God is priority number 1, his sick mother is number 2, and he's number 4 with different people taking the third spot each day. "Okay,", I said, "so make me number three, and then I'll resign and you can be the third most important from now on.". "It doesn't work like that!", he said. But of course.

Another difference between him and me: I've been finishing things over the past few years. Remember, I befriended him right before part 2 of the blog began (the start of my efforts to control my life), and every time I see him I tell him what progress I've made on my games and what plans I have, a subject which he seems to have a genuine interest in. So his view of me is a little bit one-sided. He's seeing the ambitious character I've constructed around myself, and not so much the constant struggles it takes to try to get there. He's the one with a job and responsibilities, but somehow he sees me as the one who's got his life together. I've made a CD, I've made computer games, I've written vast amounts of material on this blog. And while he's been in seven Gilbert & Sullivan plays, he was always chorus. I've gotten a lead. He works and works and never seems to get anywhere; I don't work too hard and it seems like I've got it all.

Back to "Yardena"



For a long time he's been working on a science-fiction story. It's not very good yet, but he really cares about the characters and wishes he had the self-motivation to make the story better and finish it up. I listen to his ideas and give criticism. I'm always pretty ruthless, but I usually say the same thing to him: "What's the point of the story? A story needs a point. It doesn't have to be a message, but there's got to be some reason the story's worth telling. Otherwise, it's not interesting to read.". He always runs his stories past me for feedback, but he never actually follows my suggestions. What he's looking for isn't suggestions, it's reassurance. He wants me to look at his stories and tell him they're great. But I don't do that sort of thing. If I think a story is bad, I'm going to say it's bad, and then I'll say why.

"Can you imagine a world where everyone said what they thought?", he said to me as we walked around the neighborhood, "Everyone would kill each other!". "I didn't say everyone should act on what they think,", I clarified, "just that they should say what they think. In a society where everyone was used to hearing the truth, people wouldn't get so angry about it." He strongly disagreed with me, as usual. "If a man's wife asks him 'Do I look fat?', and he says 'Yes.', she'll kill him!" "If I had a wife who asked me if she was fat, I'd tell her the truth. It's better that way! Think of it like this: the way it is, she'd never know what the man thinks. So she'd always be wondering. This way, she wouldn't have to wonder." "You do not understand the female mind."

Speaking of which, we've had plenty of arguments on the subject of women. My position is that women and men are psychologically identical. Moshe's position (and I promise I am not making this up) is that no woman can be happy without being at home with children, so it's the obligation of men to ensure that women stay out of the workplace for their own good. Moshe is old-fashioned in many unfortunate ways. He's not just sexist, he's also unrepentantly racist. And he refuses to hear any interpretation of religion that doesn't say that not just every word of the Torah but also the Midrash and all the fairy tales in the Gemara are literal truths. I guess that I can live with -I just ignore him every time he starts talking about Judaism. The racism is a bigger issue for me, and I've tried over and over again to convince him to be more sensitive but it hasn't made any difference. He doesn't want to change, and so he won't.

We walked through a dark and rundown street. "Why are we walking in a ditch?", he asked. "Because you decided to walk in a ditch.", I replied. "That's a great metaphor, actually. There were two paths, and you chose the ditch. So now that you're in a ditch, you should know why. It's because that was your choice." What I was talking about specifically was his insistence that he wanted to fit in with normal people, even though (like me) he's found nothing but misery there. "Weird is good.", I said. "It's taken me years to cultivate my weirdness. With some effort, you can be a weirdo like me!" That's not an appealing thought to him. He's at the stage in his life where he's depressed over how things are, but not at the point where he says "This isn't working.". I said to him: "Do you just want to marry some normal girl and have normal kids and be trapped for your whole life?! You're deliberately choosing a path that's going to make you unhappy! So when you're depressed, don't wonder why that is! It's because you decided that you weren't going to be happy!" And he answered: "Who said happiness was the point of life?" Which reminded me way too much of myself.

We sat down on a bench, and Moshe continued to go on about how pathetic he is and how little he deserves and so on and so forth. And finally I couldn't take it anymore. I moved over to his side of the bench, I put my arm around his shoulder, and I said: "Moshe, I am not patronizing you. You are a cool guy." And after an awkward few seconds he said "You're frightening me.", so I retracted my arm and backed off.

I don't know how I can get through to him! He's like me, he just won't admit it. He told me that he's learned to seem normal, as though I ought to be impressed by the effort. I told him to stop pretending. I hang out at a weekly board games night, which attracts computer programmers. That's not exactly my type of person, but it's close. And I spend time with actors, who are another kind of weird. Again, not quite like me, but certainly not normal. And I'm basically happy. I told Moshe that I'm looking into a group of Asperger people who meet regularly in Jerusalem, because the more like me people are the more comfortable I'll be around them. They speak Hebrew, so that's a problem, but if I like them I'll finally have a reason to develop a Hebrew vocabulary. Happiness is a matter of finding people who are compatible, and avoiding those who aren't. Moshe's not going to be happy; he's too close-minded. But I can be happy.

I don't see Moshe so often. Shabbat is the only day of the week that I have nothing else to do but walk the seventeen minute walk to Moshe's house (in the Beit Shemesh heat) on the off-chance that he might answer the door. Sometimes I tell him I'll come, and in those cases I'm sure he sits up in the living room waiting for me to knock. When I say it's time for me to be going, he gives me his best puppy-dog face and says "Why?" like I've just ruined his day with the suggestion. It's not hard to figure out why I go there. But it's also clear that he's not enough for me.


2011, January 11th, 00:17 and 59 seconds

Every week in the back of the Jerusalem Post's "In Jerusalem" section, I saw this ad:
20+ YOUNG ADULTS WITH ASPERGER - Existing Jerusalem group offers social framework for fun activities.
It sounded suspicious ("Fun activities"? What sort of activity is genuinely fun but doesn't deserve to be specified?), so for a few years I ignored it. But in March of last year those two girls came over from Washington D.C., and I realized I might need this "existing Jerusalem group" after all. Surely I was reading too much into the ad. And it was a perfect opportunity!- people like me don't tend to broadcast their strangeness to the public (though we probably should), and here they were in a neat little group just waiting to be found! Maybe there'd even be some Asperger girls there.

I called the number, and some bad-tempered Hebrew-speaking woman answered and was remarkably unhelpful. A few months later I worked up the nerve to call again. The picture this phone conversation painted was not promising. For one thing, the group was entirely Hebrew-speaking. (Who knows why an ad was put in the Jerusalem Post, an English paper.) For another, the person who wrote the ad (and who I was speaking to) wasn't even really involved in it, she was just the mother of one of the people who went to it. She didn't seem to have any idea what they did there. And third, it sounded very much like a support group, though the only term I could get her to use was "social group". I ignored these alarming notes, because the potential reward was too great to ignore. The lady gave me contact information for one of the people in charge.

More distressing information: the person that I'd been referred to (a quick Google search informed me) was a psychologist. It was becoming increasingly clear that this was a support group. But when I sent this psychologist e-mails in English, he assured me it wasn't a support group. I told him that I really didn't feel I had a "problem", and didn't want anyone to tell me how I ought to be behaving, but just wanted to meet people like me. He only responded that I should come and meet the group.

So today, I did. I would have gone earlier, but they weren't meeting during the summer and then when they started again it was only on Mondays and every Monday I had a rehearsal for the play. Last Thursday was the last performance, so I was wide open. Also, I'm lonely. For the past few weeks I spent every day among people who I'd learned to trust and be comfortable around, and now that's all over and I don't even have any socially-acceptable excuse to talk to them until the next show. That's why I need people like me. A person with Asperger's Syndrome shouldn't care about propriety. If you need each other, you meet up. I need people who understand what it's like to need to talk about things and to need to interact and to not be able to get that from anyone else.

I contacted the person who was organizing this week's get-together, yet another psychologist. She told me that instead of meeting in their usual location, this week they'd be going to a café in the center of town. She told me where and when to meet them. I got there forty minutes early, so I just wandered around aimlessly for a while. I had lots of time to imagine how the meeting would go. I'd just be myself, and say whatever I wanted to say, and they'd respect that because they'd be like me. And they'd have all sorts of cool interests and skills, and finally I'd be among equals and I'd make friends and we'd all play games together and talk about interesting things. We'd celebrate each other's strangeness, and never doubt our mutual respect. That was worth waiting in the cold for forty minutes for. When it was time for everyone to be there, I noticed a few isolated people wandering around silently in the same area. But I couldn't think of any excuse to go up to them and ask if they were the people like me, because I couldn't be sure. A person like me would appreciate the company of like-minded people. But a person who wasn't like me might be offended by the strange intrusion.

The psychologist came ten minutes late, and gathered us together. "Good evening.", she recited. "Good evening.", six people echoed. These were not the people I was expecting. Three of them were very clearly autistic, and I mean autistic. There was only one woman. The two other men looked depressed and didn't say anything. I asked the psychologist to define the group for me. She refused, saying she'd explain everything once we sat down and she was able to introduce me properly. I gathered that this was only half the usual crowd, but the rest would not be coming. There was a long and very tedious argument (which I sat out of) about where we'd go to eat, and then we went. They walked very slowly, so I kept having to wait for them. There was no intelligent discussion going on, it was just the sort of autistic babbling that made me scared of being seen with them. If someone I knew saw me, what would I say to them? "Hi, it's so nice to see you! I have to go now, this psychologist is leading me toward someplace where I'll be interacting with... um, these people."?

In the café, I sat down quietly and waited for the explanation to come. When everyone else was seated and the psychologist was satisfied that no one else would be showing up, she asked me to introduce myself. "My name's Mordechai. I first of all have to apologize for my Hebrew. I live in an English-speaking neighborhood and everything I do is in English, so my vocabulary isn't... good, let's say. I have Asperger; I compose music for the piano. I've wanted to come for a while, because I'm curious about what this is exactly, but I wasn't able to come because for the past few months I've been playing the lead in a comic opera by Gilbert & Sullivan, so I was busy every Monday. What I do, mainly, is I make computer games.". Very early on in this introductory speech I got the sense that the psychologist would like me to stop talking so that she could get to the next item on the agenda, but I hoped that this would spark some interest in someone there. Nada. The only reaction I got was that when I said I spoke English, the autist sitting across from me said that he could speak English too. No reaction to the games, to the composing, to the show.

The psychologist asked if someone could tell me why they were there. The woman sitting next to me eagerly launched into a very mundane account of how they meet up and talk. It did not sound like an activity I'd have any interest in. One of the two possible Aspergers looked extremely bored, so I said to him: "You look very bored. Why do you come here?". "I have nothing to say.", he said. I asked if there was anything the people there had in common, since they didn't seem to have Asperger's Syndrome. The friendly autist said he had Asperger's Syndrome. I asked him if he had any skills. "I work in the Knesset!", he said, "And I can speak English like you!". "No, I mean things you can do.". "I can speak English, like you!". The psychologist, to answer my question, said that they all had communication problems. "I don't have communication problems.", I said. "My only communication problem is Hebrew.". She seemed unconcerned at this statement.

Oh, the inanity they talked about. She discussed payment for the last few "meetings", and they discussed trivial details of the past week in their tedious little lives, and she reminded them that in last week's meeting they'd gone over the four emotions that people have. I objected: "That's a simplification, no? Four emotions?". She noted ever-so-perceptively that I seemed to be angry. Well, yes, I was angry. I thought it was about meeting people with Asperger's Syndrome. That's what the ad had suggested, and that's why I'd come. She told me that I could come the next week as well, and in the week after that I could decide if this was something I'd pay for moving forward. She told me that they'd all been together for three years, and it had been very helpful for everyone.

I was sitting there for an hour. Or maybe it was just a few minutes, but it felt like an hour. Nobody spoke, unless the psychologist told them to. She handed me a pen and a paper with such questions as "What has made you happy in the past week?", and that was more degrading than I could tolerate. I said I didn't need a person without Asperger's Syndrome telling me how to deal with emotions and how to live my life. And she was finally fed up with my negativity, so she suggested that I leave. I was only too happy to comply.

I feel sorry for whichever people there are actually like me. They must think that's all they're ever going to get in life. They're inferior, they're defective, and the most they can hope for is that they'll find some place they can be quiet in that will tolerate their existence. Sure they've got communication problems. I'd have communication problems too, if I tried to put myself in such a repressive social environment week after week and thought of it as "normal". They don't know better. But I do.

What do I do next? Where do I go? How does the story continue? I have to admit, I haven't the foggiest idea. Going to this group was the entire extent of my plan. I might suggest to find some other place where people like me are likely to congregate, but people like me tend to stay at home and hide from this repressive society that treats us like autists and defectives. That's no help. I guess all I can do is act as true to myself as I possibly can, keep my eyes open, and hope that God sends someone my way.


2010, July 12th, 2:53 and 52 seconds

Stepping Outside

Most of my days are pretty similar to each other. I wake up around 11:30, walk to the computer, turn over a page in my notepad, mark the date, and write down the starting time. Then I check my e-mail, check my RSS feeds, check for new comic scans, check my web page statistics, and just generally browse the web for two hours or so, thankful that web browsing is still considered a "mundane activity" this month. Then I get dressed, turn on Wii Fit, run the test, find out I'm underweight, mimic my "Mii" avatar's reaching-and-clapping animation when the game says my "Wii Fit age" is 20, do a few exercises, play a balance game, and go for a run. Then lunch, which is either a bagel with cream cheese or pasta with Maria Angelina brand tomato sauce and melted Gilboa cheese. (Whichever one I don't have for lunch, I'll have for supper.) Back to the computer where I check my mail again and browse for another hour or two. Then some form of entertainment, I look at my pad and find out that there's not much time left in the day, so I do some productive stuff for however long the notepad says I need. And then back to web browsing, a little bit of some other kind of entertainment until around 2:30, mark the end time, do the math of how long everything was, review and score, upload to the blog, and sleep. At no point during the day do I step outside the house, which is good because it's really hot outside. At no point during the day do I interact with another person beside my mother and sister (who I rarely share more than two sentences with), which is good because strangers don't tend to be friendly to oddballs.
A young man walks in with a blank expression, a strange walk, a bushy beard, messy hair which looks like it hasn't been cut in years, and a purple shirt with an undershirt sticking out at the sides. Looks like it'll be another one of those. Ah, community theater.

Ask him to read lines
Ask him to leave

He speaks in a strange voice, while articulating wildly with his arms, not quite standing straight at any time. He seems to be going with his instincts, but his instincts are very strange, and this is legitimately painful to watch.

Have him be normal
Have him go

He tries to move around less, but now he just looks like a lifeless robot. God, this kid wouldn't know normalcy if it hit him with a stick. Which might do him some good, actually.

Hit him with a stick
Thank him for coming and never talk to him again

He says "Thank you" and leaves. Thank God. Let's hope the next one is more like what we're looking for.
Our modem had been malfunctioning recently, so my father took it in to be replaced. This messed with my routine a bit, but I found I didn't miss the two hours of early browsing. I was too busy getting ready for my big day. This was going to be one of those days that makes the blog happy, and it needed to go just right. I practiced my two monologues (from the movie "The Goodbye Girl" and the comic book "Midnight Nation"), exercised a bit, burned a CD of my album to give to Erika, called Erika to confirm the times, and waited for my mother to come home and drive me to the train station.

I've had a few bad experiences with the train station, involving tickets not being printed properly and trains never showing up and being stuck in the middle of nowhere for a full hour. This particular train ride was to Rehovot, and necessitated switching trains in Lod. I was a bit concerned that something would go wrong, but for the most part I just enjoyed the ride. We passed a bunch of stops, and at each one I wondered what was out there. Why couldn't I just ride the train as far as I wanted, get off wherever I wanted, wander around exploring for a while, and then take the train back home? Why do I need an excuse to do something like that?

My excuse to get out of the house was that on the last day of The Matchmaker (which Erika directed), she had offered to help me improve my audition technique. I very deliberately only got back in touch with her after recording my CD, because that way I could present myself as not just an oddball, but an oddball who makes things! I'm not entirely sure why that mattered to me. (Okay, that's a lie.) Anyway, she showed up and I gave her the disc and told her about the crazy things I'm working on, and we talked for a while. She drove me to the apartment she lives in with her boyfriend, and the three of us sat around and chatted for a little bit, and I was very thankful that I had an excuse to be there because when do I ever get the opportunity to chat with people during the week?! It was a very good conversation- I even got to say that "The Legend of Zelda series has gotten away from the free exploration of the original NES game, in favor of more rigid linear paths to follow." without it being a total non sequitur!

Then we got down to business. Erika told me what it is casting directors might be looking for, and how to present the right image of myself, and how to control what I say and how I act to create the impression that I'm the guy they'd want for whatever part. She told me that from the moment I walk in the room to audition, I'm already acting. They don't want shy, they don't want strange, they want talented but they want someone who will accept whatever direction he's given. I think if anyone else had told me all this, I would have disregarded it out of hand. Why can't I just be myself? But my experience has shown me that Erika is a person who can be trusted. Doing mock auditions for her was quite a bit less nerve-wracking than doing actual auditions for strangers would be, and I probably made a fool of myself much less in this controlled environment. But that's okay. Practicing with Erika gave me a sense of what I'm aiming for. That's the Mory that needs to walk into a room and demonstrate that he's the right actor. Now it's just a matter of remembering everything she said, and reconnecting with that role.


When I went home the new modem was waiting. I browsed the web a bit, checked my mail, all the usual nonsense. I'd had my adventure, and now it was time to go back to my comfortable little computer. I'd leave the house only when I had another excuse to do so. I was just about to settle down and read the new comics, when the noise started from across the street.

We live across the street from a field with a little amphitheater, in which (for the past few weeks) the city government has been projecting the TV broadcasts of the World Cup soccer tournament onto a big screen for large crowds every night. Tonight I noticed it was louder than usual, and was told that that was because it was the championship game. And suddenly I was curious, so I wrote down a time in the notepad, walked across the street, sat down and watched the game.

I've never liked soccer. I learned the game in elementary school, and I was abysmal at it. But everyone else was really into the game, and I wanted to be interested in what other people were interested in, so I played anyway. I played on a team with Moroccan kids who (in other contexts) bullied me, and I'd stand and hope no one noticed me while running back and forth a bit to seem like I had a chance of getting the ball. (I didn't.) I am not a sports type of person. But I didn't want to just hang out with my English-speaking friends, I wanted to be a part of the team. So I joined the soccer club, and I sat on the sideline during the games waiting for the coach to put me in. (He never did, and with good reason.) I quit, finally realizing that soccer (and sports in general) wasn't for me.

It felt extremely awkward leaving the house and crossing the street. I was worried that someone would see me. What would I say? I had no valid excuse! I wasn't remotely interested in the World Cup, it was just curiosity about what everyone else outside my window was doing. But no one noticed me, and I sat down toward the edge of the field where no one would bother me.

And then I heard the crowd. There was one of those instant replays being shown, and suddenly a massive collective "Ooh!" came from my left. And I said to myself, I want to be closer to that "Ooh!". So I got up, and walked closer to the middle. Sure, I would be noticed there. But why did I need an excuse? If I wanted to wander around the field, I should be able to wander around the field!

I had forgotten what Israeli culture was like. So many ethnicities, so many different sects of Judaism, all sitting around on a field watching such an awkward sport! There was something to it. I saw Americans and Ethiopians and Moroccans and Russians, I saw little kids with vuvuzelas and older kids with hookahs and teenage girls who yelled out "Woo! Xabi Alonso!" each time the athlete's name was mentioned by the sportscaster and adult men who yelled "Take the shot! Take the shot!" at the screen during replays. And I loved it. I didn't think sports could get to me, but just being in the middle of the crowd, suddenly I cared every time a team got close to scoring a goal. And what a game! It was 116 minutes before a single goal was scored! Why am I saying this like it's a sign that it was a good game? I don't know! But yay!

Okay, maybe I can't pass for a normal person. It just doesn't fit, and trying for too long is a surefire recipe for bad times. But it's not such a bad idea to slip on the costume every now and then, if only to have the excuse to wander around a bit more.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..." And there's a game I play with a friend of mine, where I play something which sounds really serious on the piano, and then just as it's reaching its climax, I switch to this cheery little "space battle" theme, dah-bada-da-bada-da-da-da. So there could be a "space battle" track which sounds like epic science fiction music -"Like John Williams"- Yeah, exactly, and then that resolves, but then I keep sticking in these tracks in between the other music, which sounds like totally new and serious compositions, but always turn back into the goofy little classical theme. Then, at the end, there's another one of these, and the listener knows exactly where it's going. But it reaches the climax, and instead of going back to the usual punchline, it just leads to another climax, which is even bigger, and that leads to yet another climax, because it keeps just building and building and it's getting ridiculous. And then it turns into Brahms' Lullaby!- duh-duh DEH, duh-duh DEH -and it's got little hints of everything else in the album, and then at the end, when the listener isn't expecting it anymore, there's the last few notes of the space theme and that's the end of the album.

The idea is to have an album of humor, lots of different kinds of humor which work through the music, rather than just through the lyrics. It would be half instrumental and half with lyrics, but even when there are lyrics, there's funny stuff going on in the way the music is composed. That's something which I haven't seen before, and which I think there would be an audience for.

So? What do you think?

Whereupon he asked me: "Could you do stage shows?" Well, yes, I guess so, I said, not sure what this had to do with the entire marketable vision that I'd just described. "You could do funny stage shows. That could be your thing. Like Victor Borge. People would love that. Just you on a stage with a piano, with all this inventiveness that you've got. Comedy with a grand piano. Or if you want something else to play with, I could get it for you."

Well, I said, I could do something with an N64 controller.


2010, July 2nd, 3:15 and 40 seconds

Performance reviews for July 2010


2010, June 25th, 15:54 and 29 seconds

The March of Bulk

After sixteen months of working sporadically on it, my third game is finally ready:

In collaboration with Kyler Kelly:

The March of Bulk

(2010)
Windows download
Linux download
In this experimental movement game, you play as an elephant. There are no goals, there is no ending, there is no time limit, and there is nothing more I will tell you about it.

Monday, September 19, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had

Tuvia said they'd listened to the CD, and their favorite part was the first track. Ah, so you're looking for something New Age, I said. I can do that. No, not necessarily New Age. Simple and calm, then. No, not necessarily. Very melodic, then. No, not necessarily. Then what exactly are you looking for?

He said he wanted to figure out who I was, what I had to offer as a creative personality. It's not music that sells, he said, it's personalities. We need to figure out how to market you as a personality, so that people will want to know what you make next.

He told me that he had worked with musicians of every genre. -So which genre would you like me to work in?, I asked.- He had decades of experience with concerts and music videos. -I can take direction, I said.- He knew people all over the world, he said. He knew all the ins and outs of the industry.

I have an idea, I said.

I had a few ideas for albums and pieces. I could make music that goes places. I could make an album based on The Hunting of the Snark. I could write pop stuff. I could write something that fools the listener into thinking it's safe music in a popular style, and go farther and farther into ambitious areas until I've tricked people into enjoying modern classical music. I could write a religious concept album. I described some pieces which I'd been working on back when I had regular access to a piano. (Tuvia warned me not to use a MIDI keyboard. He said he'd known people who played on MIDI keyboards and lost all their enthusiasm for music. A good warning, but quite a bit late.) He didn't seem to latch onto any of these ideas as things he might publish through his record label.

So what was he looking for?

He called me an "idea person". He told me that people who actually come up with new ideas are rare, and I'm one of those. Those people are in demand. I need to find a way to come up with new ideas, and get paid for it.

Well, actually, I said, that's kind of how I think of games. That's what I want to do with my life: move from one medium to the next, reinventing a format and then moving on. What I'd like to offer people is the guarantee of experiences they've never had before.

Have I ever considered cable channels?, he asked. Huh? Cable TV channels in America. They're always looking for the next personality who can generate content for them. What I need to put together is a block of ideas for content, so that then I can go to them and say, here's a wide range of content that I can give you as part of a programming block. Huh? It doesn't need to be polished, it just needs to be creative. What exactly would I sell them?, I asked. Anything, he said. Just be yourself. Throw in crazy ideas like you've been doing in this conversation. So... like... music? Well, it could be music, but it could be other things. I thought of the screenplays I'd co-written for Dungeon Master. And maybe reviews of new games. I could do that. Not necessarily enough to fill an entire half hour, or to start some sort of cult of personality around myself.

We chatted about audio latency and server-side code and soundfonts and entertainment. I asked him how I might go about programming an adventure game which generates piano music dynamically based on choices the player makes. He gave me some good advice which I don't remember. Eventually we hung up, and I stood around for a while trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

I sing the melody line for the first four bars of "A Lonely Journey", quietly, very slowly and with minimalistic accompaniment. That gets the audience familiar with and interested in the main theme. Then I stop singing and switch to piano. I don't shy away from the tedious repetition at the end; I make it longer, and speak over it: "It's over as quickly as it began."...

The Composer
The composer has long since experienced everything there is to experience. He still takes pleasure from much of it, and has learned to avoid much of it, but he needs much more. He needs something new, some combination of emotions and rational thought that will bring him somewhere he hasn't been before. It's agony to get to that point, but the composer has little choice in the matter. If he can't give his feelings form, they will eat him alive.

Friday, May 08, 2015

My mother forwards me an e-mail from someone who says she's written lyrics to a religious song and wants music for it. There is no money offered at all -only the suggestion that she will pitch the demo (once created) to whatever religious singers she can get in touch with, to see who bites. If someone likes the song, there's the potential for royalties.

I apply with two examples of religious songs I've written in different styles, as well as The Facebook Song and my CD. I want to show her that I'm a versatile composer, who can create music in whatever style she likes. She says I'm not what she's looking for.


2010, June 22nd, 13:56 and 30 seconds

"Keep Walking, Kid"

Original music by Mordechai Buckman

  1. Innocence (3:18)
  2. The Wanderer (3:09)
  3. Classical Framework (1:35)
  4. Dots & Curves (3:45)
  5. Standing Up (3:16)
  6. Dominance (5:12)
  7. Daydream (1:51)
  8. A Lonely Journey (4:56)
  9. The Joy of Life (2:23)

five comments, the last one being from Avri
Blogger Kyler said:

Well I think that was one of my favorite blog posts to read of all time.

The use of quotes was what really brought it to life and kept it interesting and readable, it kept it feeling like a bunch of chapters instead of a stream of text.

This was also at heart a very well conceived retelling of what happened to you, which was in itself very interesting. I think when I first met you online, I would have very much doubted that you would be acting any time soon. But it sounds like you have the determination to make it work.

Also, I really enjoyed your CD recordings. I will likely give a more indepth comment when I have listened to them more, and when you make a post about it.

 Mory said:

I'm trying to change the rhythm of my blogging, where I only write around one post a week but it's a meatier post than the old ones. My intention is to hold on to bits of stories until I can tell the whole story at once, like I did here. So I'm very glad to hear that in this case, it paid off. Really, I'm just doing this to make part 3 feel different than part 2.

 Mory said:

I've added an underline at the end of the post about the play. It just occurred to me that I don't need to be indirect, when the direct approach is cooler.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

A few comments I've been meaning to make.

1. I also really enjoyed the post about The Matchmaker.

2. Good to see you're playing through Eric the Unready. It of course suffers from the "Stuck here and have no clue" as do all adventure games, but it has some great puzzles and great humor. Remember to try some wacky verbs on stuff. (I especially enjoyed attempting to be intimate with the pig). The raft part on Fantasy Island, and a lot of the realm of the gods were the most annoying parts. The rest is pretty straightforward.

3. I played March of the Bulk. The graphics were great, (though I noticed a black flicker on the tail). The gameplay was fun, I'm not sure if I've found everything, and I've found nothing very interesting to do with the <- -> keys. Not crazy about the sound effects.

4. I really enjoyed the music CD. Though I couldn't get Canon in D out of my head during the second track :)

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Also, please post more of the play if you have it :)

(Or invite me over to watch the CD or lend it to me)

Post a Comment




2010, June 22nd, 1:15 and 38 seconds

The Matchmaker

Wednesday, April 21, 2010: Opening night

I think it's about adventure. The test of an adventure is that when you're in the middle of it, you feel like saying to yourself: "Oh, now I've got myself into an awful mess; I wish I were sitting quietly at home." And the sign that something's wrong with you is when you sit quietly at home wishing you were out having lots of adventure. What we would like for you is that you have just the right amount of sitting quietly at home, and just the right amount of - adventure!

-from the final monologue of The Matchmaker, spoken by Barnaby

The play we performed was not exactly the play we'd started with. Partly that was because ten people quit the cast, and partly it was because one of those who quit was the director. When Erika took over, most of what we were doing got changed. New edits, new blocking, new character traits. Our version of the play would still be in the 1960s rather than the 1880s, but because she didn't feel the characters' behavior made sense for hippies she pulled it back in time a few years to the beginning of that era. She swapped the two main actresses' parts, she officially fired that one guy who'd run off to Europe and never let us know when he'd be back, and she quickly cast someone in the role of Cornelius. She designed a new set for the show. Anything which didn't make sense to her, anything which didn't seem professional enough, she tried to personally fix.

Sunday, November 08, 2009: The first rehearsal

My name is Mory, I'm playing Barnaby, I previously played tiny parts in 1776 and Oklahoma! but this is my first major role so it's going to be a learning experience for me. Oh, and it's also my first time working with JEST.

-me

I was given two parts because after giving me Barnaby, our first director couldn't find anyone suitable to play Ambrose, and I'd demonstrated in auditions that I was somewhat flexible in my acting. She looked through the script and found that the two characters never have any interaction with each other, and there's no need for Barnaby to even be on stage when Ambrose is on. There were two points where a line of Ambrose's came thirty seconds after Barnaby being on stage, but she wasn't too worried about that -we'd just dress up a doll as Barnaby, or something. And if this experiment didn't work out, she'd consider playing Ambrose herself. But I refused to admit defeat, so I spent many hours in Illinois staring at myself in the mirror making silly faces and movements and playing around with my voice, to try to figure out how I could pull off this acting challenge. It wasn't enough for me that I'd just be playing two characters. I needed to justify the confidence the director placed in me, by being so different in the two performances that some people might not realize I was one actor. That was my goal. I was crazy, and she was crazy, and that's how -by the end of the first rehearsal- I was cast in two prominent parts even though I had never had any major acting role before. I no longer had the luxury of approaching the process as a "learning experience"; I was in the deep end and it was time to swim.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010: Ambrose meets Erika

How do you feel about playing two characters?

-Erika

Erika has told me that she would never have given me both parts. She talked to me shortly after she came on, to have me choose one of the two characters. But I had a hunch where that conversation was headed, so I said very emphatically that I absolutely loved playing two characters. Erika told me much later that talking to me in that moment, she felt like making me give up a character would be "like kicking a puppy". That's the only reason she let me keep them.

She even let me play the characters my way. Barnaby, as I was playing him, was unbelievably weird. He probably had Asperger's Syndrome, though it wasn't clear from the story what his affinity was. And Ambrose I played in a way playwright Thornton Wilder couldn't possibly have intended: in the script he seems almost as timid and subservient to authority as Barnaby, but in order to both differentiate the two characters and take advantage of the 1960s setting, I'd been playing him with an exaggerated amount of self-confidence. Not knowing Erika, I was afraid she'd want me to stick closer to the expected performance. And if I did that, how would I prove that she was right to let me keep the part?

So on the first rehearsal under Erika I said to myself "Let's go all in, and see what happens.", and I told Erika that with her permission I was going to try something new with the character in the next few minutes. I gave him a swagger, I spoke in a deep voice, I only used the right side of my mouth, I stuck my tongue out a bit whenever the character thought he was being funny, I had a huge smirk through the whole thing, I walked barefoot, I threw my arms around in giant gestures with everything I said, and then I waited to be told which elements to cut out, hoping it wouldn't be all of them. But she didn't tell me to cut anything. She really latched on to the fact that this character I was playing was an "A-hole", and she pushed me farther in that direction. She had me put my dirty feet on Vandergelder's table. She had me look away from Vandergelder as he was talking to me, as though he were totally irrelevant. And then we moved on, and suddenly that crazy version of Ambrose I'd proposed was the version I was committed to.

So the performances were as different from each other as I'd hoped. Barnaby used my face differently, had a different voice, and moved in tiny little nervous movements and twitches. Also, Barnaby would be wearing shoes and my glasses, and Ambrose wouldn't. Erika decided that the hair should be different as well, so Ambrose was given a ponytail, and I decided that Barnaby should have my hair pulled out over my ears. But most importantly, Ambrose and Barnaby had entirely different personalities because I was allowed to go as far over the top as I wanted with each. The only time I can recall that Erika pulled me back at all is when I got a tiny bit too obvious about Barnaby's crush on Cornelius. I still think it made sense for the character, but Erika felt it would confuse the audience because he falls in love with Minnie (played by Sarit) later.

But you must have an opinion on what you're going to wear!

-Sarit

I genuinely didn't care what the costumes would look like, because it seemed almost irrelevant. I had a very clear image in my mind of what Ambrose and Barnaby looked like, and my performance would bring that idea across to the audience. The costume was just the clothes they decided to wear that day. The first piece of prop-clothing I tried on was a dress for Barnaby, for the point in the play where he's dressed up like a girl. (Don't ask.) I had some trouble getting it on, never having worn a dress before, and I realized I'd have trouble getting it off as well, so while everyone thought it looked funny on me it wasn't right for the scene. There were two fast costume changes in the play. And when I say "fast" I mean thirty seconds fast. Thirty seconds to get off the stage, run around to the other side, get changed, get back on stage, and say my next line. So the dress wouldn't work.

One day (Wednesday, April 14, 2010) I went to a warehouse in Jerusalem together with Doron, who had been cast as Cornelius. Doron was actually playing him not all that differently from my Barnaby, which brought an entirely different sort of dynamic to the pair than our first Cornelius, who'd played the part with simple confidence. Anyway, this warehouse is where JEST keeps their costumes and props from previous productions, and it was where Erika was taking us to pick out our clothes. Ambrose's outfit had already been decided: a beret, a paint-spattered green jacket, and a ponytail. A simple costume, so that I could get it on quickly. The pants would have to be shared between the two characters, so we found the most bland pair of pants, and added a bland white shirt, and we had Barnaby's costume. Incidentally, Barnaby's costume looked nearly identical to the clothes I wear every Shabbat. What Barnaby had that I didn't was a really cool belt made of slits that could all be used as notches for the buckle. I say it's really cool because it's the first belt I've worn which actually holds up my pants well. The people who make belts don't think about people as skinny as me. So we had that. But we still needed to find two pairs of shoes.

Let me describe the dilemma we faced, because I find it amusing. The theater we were in is small and awkward. The stage is round, there aren't many lights, but most problematically, there's no backstage. All the actors need to come in from either the same entrance the audience is using, or an entrance on the other side. If you come in from outside, you then need to go up a rickety metal staircase with your back to the audience to get to the stage. No one likes this theater, but the theater JEST used to use raised their prices, and JEST can't afford it anymore, so it's the theater we had. Sometimes you need for a character to leave without actually leaving the room, so we had flats in the center of the stage that we'd hide behind to leave the scene. Okay, so here's the dilemma. Ambrose and Ermengarde come in from outside the house act 3 is set in, just a few short lines in the script after Barnaby has been onstage. At the end of the scene everyone (including Ambrose) leaves the scene for another room of the house, which for us meant behind the flats. Then Barnaby runs onstage at the end of the play, everyone follows him and Barnaby delivers the final monologue (quoted in part at the top of this post). If you've been paying attention to this scenario, and understand that there's no way out from the flats except for through the stage, then you'll have already figured out that the shoes are a problem. Erika and I worried about this for a bit, until I suggested (as a joke, really) that logically I'd need two pairs of shoes, and she accepted my logic. So before each showing of the play, I planted an extra pair of shoes behind the flats.

So anyway. We needed two pairs of similar shoes, and Erika was looking for loafers because they needed to come off really quickly, and she were hoping for black or some dark color like that. But it turned out that the warehouse didn't have many men's shoes at all. Lots of women's shoes, but not men's. And certainly not anything as specific as black slip-on shoes. So Erika looked at the black sandals I always wear and said they'd do. (The second pair was an old pair of sandals I've held on to.) We also looked for ugly tight dress-suits, because there's a part of the story where Cornelius and Barnaby ought to be more dressed up than usual. There was one suit which was bright yellow, and they both laughed and told me to take it off immediately because that was going too far and I looked like a banana. Which surprised me, really: looking at it in the mirror, I thought it looked like a bold fashion statement, and I imagined that if I ever decided to get serious about my appearance in real life, something like that would be the way to go. I guess that says it all about my fashion sense. In the end we didn't wear any suits onstage. I'm not sure why.

When we left the warehouse there was still time left before that day's rehearsal, so we went out to lunch at a nice café. I think that was the most fun I had socializing during the entire production. It turns out Erika is very much crazy, but she balances that out with professionalism. It's an interesting mix.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010: The first run-through

The problem is that I'm standing up. I can remember the lines when I'm sitting down.

-an actress who I will do the courtesy of not naming

Our first run-through started out strongly. It was funny, it was moving along at a brisk pace, we (mostly) hit our cues and remembered our lines. But then we got to the introduction of a certain character, and it seemed as though that actress had never tried running through her lines without the script before. "Line", she called. And then again. And again. There was one line, where she stood for ten seconds trying to remember, then called "Line", they fed her the beginning of the line, she said the beginning of the line, then she stood for a few seconds and called "Line" again, they fed her the middle of the line, she said it, called "Line" again, and they fed her the end of the line, so she made it all the way through. This was devastating for me. All that energy Erika had gotten going, all the hard work I'd put in, all the hours memorizing lines, none of it mattered. The harder I tried, the more humiliated I'd be come opening night. If it were just me in the play, I'd spend 100% of my time and energy on the play and everything would be fine. But if I had to rely on other people, and they let me down, then why was I even bothering to be there? Our director had left. Our actors had left. Our assistant director had left. Our assistant stage manager had left. I had been working on this production for five months, and now with two weeks until the show it was all falling apart. Once this one actress started calling for lines over and over, everyone else lost their energy. We were all making mistakes, we were all missing cues, we were all giving dull performances. We didn't even make it through the run-through, because the place we were practicing in closed up long before we got to the end.

Back at home I didn't know what to say to people. Should I tell them that the play wouldn't be worth their time to see? Because that was how I felt. I felt like this play had been doomed from the start, with everything that possibly could have gone wrong going wrong, and there had never been even a possibility of something worthwhile coming out of all of it. Why was Erika pushing herself so hard on this production, trying to make everything professional and entertaining? It's just a silly play which no one's heard of. If we never went on stage, no one would care.


Friday, April 16, 2010: The first dress rehearsal



There were five days to go until opening night, and finally we got to rehearse in the actual theater. I ran around from one side to the other, to make sure I could do it fast enough. I noted that there was a big puddle in the middle of the hallway there, where the ceiling was leaking. I'd need to be careful to run around that. I took Ambrose's jacket and hair elastic and started practicing the change, timing myself with a stopwatch. Hit the stopwatch, put my glasses in my pocket, get the elastic out of my pocket, pull all my hair back, make the ponytail, get my arms into the jacket, snap up the finicky little snaps on the jacket, kick off my shoes, put on the beret, hit the stopwatch. My time was worrying. To be safe, I really needed to do all that within fifteen seconds, and my time... well, let's just say my time was significantly more than that. So I practiced over and over and over, but I couldn't get my time down to the necessary level. It wasn't even a matter of skill - it just wasn't doable.

The rehearsal didn't go smoothly. People were forgetting their lines all over the place. But I couldn't worry about that; I had my own problems to worry about. The first of the two changes, that one would be fine. I had a good thirty, forty seconds there. But the one where it was just half a page of script, that was where I'd really need to rush my brains out. Because of this attitude, I approached the first of the fast costume changes a bit more slowly than I should have. I was only halfway through the change when I heard the line on stage that was supposed to be my cue. I threw on the beret and ran in, the jacket open, my shoes on, my hair a mess, but it was too late. The scene was already over. The second change I did indeed take more seriously. It still wasn't nearly fast enough.

By the end of that rehearsal, I felt like I'd like to hide in a corner somewhere. Erika was giving critical comments to all the castmembers, and I was waiting for her to say "Mory, you were the worst of all. You need to be in the room in time for your cue. Be faster.", but she didn't say a thing to me. I arranged with Elinor the stage manager that she would help me out with the costume changes. She would do the hair, and I would do the jacket and shoes. I felt like I absolutely needed to practice that right away, again and again until we got it down to the right time. But there wasn't any time left. The rehearsal had run very long, and Shabbat was coming. My first chance to try again would be in three days.

Thank God for Shabbat. I talked with all my friends, described my problems, and suddenly it didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

Sunday, April 18, 2010: Line-practicing exercise

I know, it'll be fine.

-me, brushing away Erika's reassurances about the costume change

Erika's biggest problem with the performances is that they didn't move along quickly enough. We'd wait around in between cues, trying to remember what the next line was. And as the first dress rehearsal had shown, that kills the play. The Matchmaker is a comedy, and a comedy needs to move forward in a quick and bouncy manner.

She told us to just say our lines as fast as we possibly could, on cue, with no acting whatsoever and while pacing around the room. The pacing around the room bit was to separate our memories of the lines from the context of where we were and what we were seeing when we said them. Or something like that. I tend to always pace around the room when practicing lines, or when doing pretty much any thinking at all for that matter, so that wasn't too unusual for me. But Erika also said that as we walked we shouldn't focus our vision on anything in particular, so I took my glasses off as I paced. Most of my fellow actors couldn't help but bring their performances into the reading, because the particular way they always said the lines was so ingrained in their minds -this slowed us down and didn't fit the exercise. So we started out just barely faster than we normally act, but as the evening went on we got faster and faster, and some of us started to really have fun with the challenge of hitting our cues as fast as possible and being as bland as possible saying them. After a while the timing of the lines started getting kind of funny, with deadpan deliveries of funny or emotional lines. By the final act we were racing forward; it had turned into a sort of competition, where everyone wanted to be the fastest and the blandest. In the end I said my entire final monologue (enunciating clearly) in one breath, and received some clapping.

I waited around as Erika worked on specific scenes with other people, and finally the two of us would work on Barnaby's monologue. Every single time I'd done it in rehearsals, Erika had a problem with it. The first time I tried to be awkward, as though Barnaby were making it up on the spot, and Erika said it should be more of a final statement. This was strange to me, because it seems like the charm of that final monologue comes from how unsuitable a way to end the play it is, how quirky and bizarre a way to leave the audience it is. (As written, I like the final monologue very much.) But Erika didn't like it, so I tried to have Barnaby say it with a quirky kind of conviction. But Erika didn't like that either. I'd tried a bunch of different performances for that monologue, and none of it was clicking with her. But there were more important things to worry about, so we hadn't gotten around to working it out until now.

Most of the cast had already left, but Rachel (the head of JEST) had been helping out and she was still there. So I got in front of Erika and Rachel and said my final monologue the way I'd been saying it, with a few new little quirks I'd worked out as I'd been waiting through the other actors' work, and Erika again didn't like it. So she told me to try speaking as myself, while still doing the Barnaby performance, just to see what it would look like. This was very confusing for me, but I tried it that way. And then she said that she was tempted to make me drop character entirely, and I panicked a little as I thought she might be talking about the way I'd been doing Barnaby for the entire play. But no, she just meant to say the monologue not as Barnaby but as myself. As Mory Buckman, an actor who's talking to an audience. This sounded to me like a very silly idea, but she was the director so I gave it my best. I took thirty seconds to clear my head, said Barnaby's last line, then said the final statement of the play in my own voice and personality as though it weren't Barnaby telling what he's learned, but me commenting on how strange and hard to wrap my head around the process of being in this play was. Erika loved it, and Rachel loved it, and there was another member of the cast in the room who also loved it, and suddenly I'd committed myself to the very strange position of making the last thing people see in the show be myself being myself, as though the play were a personal blog post I was sharing with them. Which I guess I was okay with, but it was odd. Actually, it might have felt a little bit nice for some reason.

Monday, April 19, 2010: The moment of truth

Look, I'll show you how this will work.

-Erika

I tried timing the costume change when Elinor helped, and it was still much too long. So I started looking for convoluted workarounds involving snapping up the jacket before putting it on, but then Erika showed up and told us what to do. Elinor would be standing with the jacket open, which would make it quicker to get my arms in. Then I'd hunch down, because Elinor is much shorter than myself, and she'd put my hair in a ponytail while I snapped the jacket closed. It went smoothly, we moved on, and that was that.


Wednesday, April 21, 2010: Opening night



At 5:50 PM, I and the two other actors who open the play hid behind the flats and waited for the audience to come in. There was lots of noise outside, and even some voices I recognized. And yet, this was a new experience in my very short time as an actor, because the play was about to begin and I wasn't nervous. Excited, certainly. But not scared. I knew exactly what I was going to do, and I knew it would all turn out great.

And it did.

The next day (before the second of our five performances) I found out from one of the actresses that her parents didn't realize I was one actor until she told them. I tried to seem cool about it, but oh my god was that awesome to hear. For that evening's performance, some of the actors were concerned about a "second night slump" because our first night had gone so well, so we all kept giving it our all and we had another good show. Afterward I heard from Tal's father that he too had thought I was two actors, and was confused when Ambrose (or "Tally's boyfriend" as he called him) wasn't on stage with everyone else as I gave the final monologue. This was especially neat because this man has met me before, though maybe he didn't remember me.

So I ended that week very proud of my work. Some of the other actors had made very embarrassing mistakes, but the audiences were laughing throughout the show, it moved along at a nice pace, and there was lots of energy. Photos had been taken during that second performance, which would reach me on Saturday night.

Saturday, April 24, 2010: The photos get to me

This being the first time I've seen what I look like on stage, I have to ask: from the audience, do I really look as horrifying as I do in these photos? Please be honest, as I don't have any patience for people who lie to me to spare my feelings.

-me, in an e-mail to Erika

I had a very clear idea in my head of what Barnaby and Ambrose looked like. I wonder, when I looked at myself in the mirror playing them, what was I seeing? Was I actually seeing the image of myself playing the characters, or was I looking past the image and seeing the faces I imagined? What got me thinking about such things was the photo gallery of the show, which was the first time I saw Ambrose and Barnaby as they actually looked. "Horrified" was the toned-down version of what I felt, seeing that. "Mortified" is closer. Who were these people? They had the wrong face! The side-of-the-mouth thing just looked disturbing. And the hunched shoulders made Barnaby look like Frankenstein's monster. To be sure, part of the problem was the thick stage makeup -I find that all make-up looks creepy to me, and that night it was particularly overused- but it was more than that. These were not the characters I thought they were. The idea in my head had not come across to the audience, and that meant that whatever they were seeing, it wasn't something I was in control of.

And if that was the case, then why was I even trying?

Erika talked me down and convinced me that I was doing great, I apologized for bothering her and blamed it on Asperger's Syndrome, and everything snapped back to normal, more or less.

Monday, April 26, 2010: Everyone sees the show

I think this was my worst performance, of the three.

-me, to anyone who'd dare to compliment me

My friends showed up (Moshe, and even Nati with Ayelet), some random acquaintances showed up, the performance was taped, and I didn't do a very good job. Isn't that always the way it is? The voices weren't as clearly defined as usual, the timing of the Ambrose performance was a little bit off, and in general I just wasn't as funny as usual. It wasn't the greatest performance for the other actors, either, who stumbled over lines and missed cues. But Moshe was laughing the whole time, and Nati and Ayelet said they enjoyed it, and a bunch of random people complimented me on my performance. So I guess it couldn't have been all bad. The following day I borrowed the camcorder that was used to tape it, I reviewed my performance, and I didn't make the same mistakes again.

After one of the performances I walked outside and was stopped by a group of old people.
"Excuse me, are you an actor?"

"Yes, thanks."

"We have a question for you. Where's the artist? We didn't see him at the end."

"You do know that I played both parts, right?"

"What?"

"Look. [as Ambrose] Ambrose ... [as Barnaby] Barnaby."

"Oh. We should have looked more closely."






One morning a week later I went over a line that I hadn't been doing as well as I could have. I had a new idea of how I could do it better next time, so I worked on it for a few minutes. And then it occurred to me that there wasn't a next time, because the last performance had been a few days earlier.

The show was a financial success, in that JEST only lost a little bit of money on it. It was popular and we got a lot of positive word of mouth. And as for me, everyone kept asking me afterward what I'd be acting in next, and if my response sounded too uncertain they'd tell me that I had to act in something again, because I'd been really good. I'm not certain how much of that was flattery and how much was real, because I can't really watch the DVD and see what anyone else might see, but I'm definitely going to keep looking for opportunities. Who knows, maybe I'll get a lead someday.

You know, I really only joined The Matchmaker because I was getting lonely sitting quietly at home all day. My only company each day was a cat. I'd invented a girlfriend character on the blog just to have someone to talk to, but even she couldn't stand me. So I figured, if I were in a play with people, they'd have to tolerate me even if I acted like myself all the time. I think they did; I think the people in this cast were strange enough that they didn't have a problem with me being me. But in the end I got more out of this than just some human interaction. I got - an adventure!


Video: Cornelius and Barnaby sing


The Matchmaker

Sunday, March 21, 2010

I had watched LOST on Thursday, so this was my work day. I spent a few hours on The March of Bulk fixing unexpected glitches in the most complicated part of the code. The rest of the day I devoted to I vs. I, my epic blog post of me arguing with myself which had turned out to be way more work than I'd imagined. But that's the way it always is. You may think you know what you're getting yourself into when you aim high, but you never actually do.

Monday, March 22, 2010

When Ermengarde faints at the end of act 3, the script says that Ambrose (one of the two characters I was playing) picks her up and carries her out. And that image struck me as so perfect, so hilarious. The way I interpret the story of The Matchmaker, Ambrose has been trying to prove for the whole play that he and Ermengarde don't need the rest of society, as embodied by Ermengarde's uncle Horace Vandergelder. He doesn't think he needs Vandergelder's support, Vandergelder's money, Vandergelder's approval, he's just going to go do what he wants to do. But Ermengarde won't go along with his plans, because she does want her uncle in her life. So Ambrose starts the play really arrogant, and as Ermengarde fights him he gets less and less sure of himself. But the end of act 3 is where it turns around for him. When Vandergelder sees the two of them together, he yells at Ermengarde "I'll lock you up for the rest of your life, young lady!", and she faints. Ambrose scoops her up, yells at Vandergelder defiantly, and carries her away. In that moment he feels like Ermengarde is finally going to see things his way, and he can now do anything he wants in life.

The trouble is, I'm physically weak. I have enough trouble lifting the groceries; lifting an actress is a whole different level of difficulty. But that was alright, I'd do whatever needed to be done. I'd started lifting weights when no one was looking, not enough to really build some muscles but enough to get started. This was the day that I'd be working on my scenes with Tal (who played Ermengarde), so I could lift her, see how much effort it took, and based on that I'd know how seriously to take the muscle-building. Maybe a half-hour a day? Well, I'd see.

At the rehearsal in Jerusalem, I told Erika and Tal that I'd like to try lifting her up. They laughed good-naturedly. "I'm probably twice as heavy as you!", Tal said. Pushing aside the thought that she was probably right, I insisted that I'd like to try and see how it went. Tal said her line ("Uncle!") and fell backwards, I reached out to catch her, and gravity won. I was on the floor, Tal on top of my arm, and just a little bit bruised up. "Are you okay?", Erika asked. "I will be." We found a less dangerous, less dramatic way to do that part, and that was that.

All the way back home I felt crappy, and I didn't know why. Sure, I thought I'd find a way to lift Tal and there wasn't one. Sure, I'd embarrassed myself a little bit by trying. But I'd embarrassed myself much worse before, and what I was going through now was nearly depression. (Don't contradict me. I know what I felt.) Suddenly I vs. I popped into my head, all the work I'd done, all the work I had left to do. And I wondered what on Earth I could have been thinking when I decided that I was going to do something like that. I'd spent the entire previous day continuing to write it, probably the first day in my life that I burnt myself out on work. And in the end, was anyone going to care about the post at all? It was such a strange idea! Revisiting every single blog post I'd ever written, as part of a pointless ramble? No one does stuff like that, and maybe no one does it for a reason. "The more you put in, the less you get out.", I said to myself. If I weren't in this play, and I weren't writing that blog post, and I weren't making that game, and in general if I just did things that weren't crazy time sinks, I could be happier.

I knew that the only real cure for depression is social interaction, so as soon as I got home I opened up my instant messenger program. The adventure gamist Deirdra Kiai was on, who I always enjoy talking to. She told me about the game she's working on, Life Flashes By, which sounded absolutely brilliant and involving a lot of work to make, which she's doing mostly by herself. And I thought to myself, if Deirdra can do all this, why shouldn't I be able to finish a little blog post? So I said goodbye, worked on I vs. I for the rest of the night, and went to bed happy.


2010, June 15th, 2:26 and 16 seconds

Self-Cracks

I'm going to write this post right now, while I'm tired and mildly depressed and overworked and lonely, because I know by tomorrow this is all going to seem silly but right now I know it's not. My name is Mory, and I'm a perfectionist.

Today I recorded a CD of my original music in a professional studio in Jerusalem. When I got home I immediately started editing the files in a wave editor so that no one listening to the CD would know how badly I played. I don't really know how to edit wave files, but it was what needed to be done so I did it. The first edit I made was to combine two recordings of the same piece, each one with a mistake in a different place, so that it sounded like one performance. This took me an hour and a half of flailing around blindly. But then it was done, and it does indeed sound like one performance. Upon hearing the file and being impressed, I decided that I was now playing a sound editor, and the rest would come more naturally to me now that I'd gotten the hang of the performance. I made a good ten edits or so in total, and I think that first one is the only one that's seamless. When I took off the sound-editor cap and finally listened through the whole 30-minute CD, I heard each and every one of those cracks in the music, where I'd copied-and-pasted something into a place it didn't belong. Also, it was only then that I noticed the minor detail that the entire disc was filled with noises that I'd made while playing - fingernails tapping, my seat shifting around, jumping up and down, panting exhaustedly after the fast sections, etc..

It's kind of funny, isn't it, that I only realized a few hours ago I'd been making noise. I've been practicing these pieces for weeks; presumably whatever I did today, I'd been doing at home as well. The idea of the music that's in my head as I'm playing is never actually what's coming out of the piano.

The idea never comes through clearly.

Smilie has that section where Smilie imitates your movement, and I've never seen anyone ever figure out for themselves that that's what's going on there. The Perfect Color has lots of rules which no one seems to notice, and some of them are really neat ideas. The March of Bulk, well, it's not finished yet but I wouldn't be surprised if the vast majority of people who play it don't know what to make of it at all, and it's such a simple idea in my head. And when I finally get to Angles & Circles, I wonder if it's going to evoke emotional responses in anyone other than myself. I'm so proud of the way I build themes up gradually on this blog, but no one ever sees the bigger picture I'm trying to make unless I say to their faces exactly what I was aiming for. And The Matchmaker... well, that's a story for another time.

There's a comic book writer named Paul Jenkins, whose work I detest. He has the most curious ability, to take wonderful characters and plot points from other stories and make me wonder why I ever liked them. But I listen to Paul Jenkins in interviews, and suddenly everything he says he's going for seems to make perfect sense. Of course the main character was being so self-destructive! It's because there's a specific way we're supposed to be thinking at the end of that issue (so that the next one can surprise us), and that behavior misleads us into that way of thinking! Brilliant! But then I look back at the comic that he's talking about, and I don't see it. How could he think he was creating works of such elegant brilliance, when he's actually making crap? Why are the great ideas in his head not making their way to the pages he wrote?

Look, what I'm doing here isn't complicated. Really, it isn't. In part 1 the blog was a tool to figure out who I was and what I wanted, and that made me realize that the two don't fit together. I couldn't stand up for gamism (as an alternative to life) if I wasn't the sort of person who stood up for things. So in part 2 the blog started turning into a series of rules and philosophies designed to prevent me from being who I am, in order to get me what I want. But I kept weaseling my way out of responsibility, throwing away the rules one by one because they didn't fit my personality, and so the blog needed to get ever more bossy to compensate, and the end result was the explosion of I vs. I. Part 3 is acknowledging that who I am and what I want can't be separated, so instead of ignoring who I am the blog is now a self-help book instructing me to be a different person, the sort of person who will want to do everything the blog has in store. This is all so simple and obvious, and I haven't exactly been subtle about it; why do I need to spell it out? Why isn't the fact that I've spent five years of time and effort and overthinking and identity-searching enough to guarantee that the story will come across clearly?

Maybe because it's all a lie. I'm not much of a gamist, I'm not much of a sound editor, I'm not much of a writer, and I'm not much of a pianist. If I were any of those things, people would understand me when I try to communicate. And as for composing: the only reason people enjoy my music is because no one expects for music to communicate anything. I've made only one piece of music that says something, that being Variations On V.O.V.. I recorded it along with the music for the CD, and replaced the bad MP3 that was on the blog with a new one, so you can check that out. I've also uploaded the sheet music, because the only way anyone can possibly understand what I'm doing in Variations On V.O.V. is by analyzing the sheet music note by note. No, that's a lie too. Even if you did analyze it note by note, you wouldn't understand what I was doing, because I can't say things in ways that other people will understand them.

And even if you somehow guessed what I think is in there (but probably isn't there at all), you'd probably just say "Why?". And there is no why. There was no reason for all the fictional characters in parts 1 and 2, there's no reason for The March of Bulk to exist, there's no reason for me to exist. Except for one reason, which is that in my head, these ideas seem to mean something. But because these ideas don't have anything to do with reality, they're all lies. In trying to break myself free of reality, I'm breaking the realness of my identity. Everything I put on after that is artificial. The more rooted in ideas in my head, the more artificial; the more artificial, the less it holds up under scrutiny. I don't see my actions, I see the ideas behind them. And by the time they reach reality, there might be nothing of those ideas left. They can't exist in reality. Or if they can, I'm not in touch with reality enough to know how.

No! I have to stop thinking like this. Fiction is as good as reality! It is! My faith in myself is going to be affirmed. At the end of this day, I am so tired I'm even less sure of what I'm saying than usual, and the thing I spent the whole day on isn't good enough, and I haven't served the blog well, and I haven't served myself at all, and I see all the imperfections of this façade, but I'm choosing to take all that as a challenge. I'll do better tomorrow. I'll say things that make sense, I'll make everything perfect, I'll be a suitable hero for the blog, I'll be happy, and the fiction will be made real.

God, I'm tired. I think I had something to say in this post. I wonder if I said it.


2010, June 8th, 22:21 and 12 seconds

The Lost Fan Dreams

Warning: This post contains many spoilers about the TV show LOST.

I'm serious, I'm going to spoil everything. The show's over now, you know, so I'm going to be talking about the ending, and just about everything that ever happened before that.
Are you sure? Look, if you haven't seen the whole series not only is this going to spoil everything, but the post might not even be too comprehensible on its own. So if you're not a fan of the show, there's really no reason to read it. Do you still want to see it?
No
Yes
BEN: Hello, and welcome to our little island. I understand you've all been through quite an ordeal today, but I promise we'll do everything we can to make sure you're all fine and on your way back to civilization as soon as possible.

JACK: This isn't everyone, the tail section-

BEN: Yes, calm down, we know. I have a team recovering the rest of the passengers as we speak. My doctors are tending to the wounded, and-

[loud mechanical sounds]

JACK: What the hell is that?

BEN: I'll explain everything once we've made sure that everyone is all right. But for now, just know that that sound came from something very dangerous, in fact, something which would kill you all right now if we weren't here to protect you, so I'm going to ask you all to stay inside this area and not try to pass the large pylons we've set up around the beach. In order to keep that thing out, it emits a barrier which is quite lethal. So just be warned that for the time being you shouldn't leave this area. Anything you need in the meantime will be provided.

SAWYER: Awfully convenient how you just happen to have set all this up on the random spot we crash!

JACK: Let him talk! They seem to be helping, I think we should hear him out.

BEN: Thank you. All I am asking is that you trust me, and in a day or two you'll be going back home. The fact of the matter is, this may sound a bit crazy, but we knew you were going to be here. The crash was not an accident, it was fate that you should come here because one of you is going to need to volunteer for a very important job. But we can discuss that later-

LOCKE: I'll do it!

BEN: Um, are you sure? Wouldn't you rather wait and hear-

LOCKE: When we took off in Sydney I was in a wheelchair, and now I can walk. I think that's a sign that I'm supposed to be here!

SAWYER: I think the old man's gone senile.

BEN: This could be shock, you've just been through a very traumatic experience, you can't honestly mean that-

LOCKE: Don't tell me what I can't do. I accept the job.

[silence]

BEN: Well, um... that's... a bit quicker than I expected. Okay, well, I'll need to check this out with my boss but otherwise I guess the rest of you can go then. As soon as we know everyone's okay and we've retrieved your luggage, I see no reason we can't send the rest of you home in our submarine.

-from the first episode of LOST



Wait, that's not what happened, is it? Jacob's followers didn't try to help out the people Jacob had brought to the island, they dressed up in goofy disguises and spied from a distance. The smoke monster didn't try to kill them all the moment they landed so that they couldn't meet Jacob and inherit the job, he just killed the pilot in the cockpit and left everyone else alone. They weren't led on a path that led naturally to one of them becoming the new protector of the island, they were left to fend for themselves and type in numbers every 108 seconds and get locked up in animal cages and leave the island and come back to the island and travel through time to detonate an atomic bomb that had no effect and wander around the island aimlessly and then die. There's no getting around it: LOST has a nonsense plot, from start to finish.

I expected better. Through all the strange randomness of these six seasons, I had faith in the writers. They had a plan, it would all make sense in the end. By making the questions such an integral part of the experience, the writers had us believe that there was a mystery to be solved. And a mystery writer needs to follow certain rules. So I knew that all the little details were actually part of the mystery, and at some point we'd have all the clues to figure out the story for ourselves, so that when we finally saw the elegance of the solution we'd kick ourselves for not figuring it out ourselves. And when this became harder and harder to believe, I took it as a challenge. At the end of season 5, we got that scene between Jacob and a man wearing black, which was presented as though it were the key to everything. I took it at face value: now was the point at which I could solve the mystery, and season 6 would present the answers in suitably dramatic fashion. So I rewatched the entire show up to that point, and fit everything that had ever happened into a fairly elegant theory. And then I wrote the whole thing up on the blog, as I do.

Now, the less geeky among you will wonder why I'd watch a silly little TV show a second time through just to try to guess where its writers were going. So let me give you a frame of reference for my thinking. In my early teenaged years, I spent many hours each week thinking about the "big picture" storyline of the Legend of Zelda series of videogames. By all appearances it is a series with no grand overarching plot between installments, but like many -okay, several- other übernerds, I was determined to find one nonetheless. The Zelda series had given me a wide range of experiences, but it wasn't quite real enough yet, not as long as the separate games in the series didn't fit together. If I could find a continuity between the games, then I could imagine that it was all real, not just the parts I was playing through but all the parts in between as well, and maybe those parts I could live in.

The trouble is, each game has an identical hero and princess and villain, but each story acts as though the other stories hadn't happened! In the 90s the Nintendo of America writers put hints in the game manuals of how the games might connect together: the hero named Link of The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past was the ancestor of the Link from the original game, for instance, and "Princess Zelda" is just a name passed down through the generations. But it always seemed like fan-fiction until The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. That was the first game which directly referenced another Zelda game as having happened hundreds of years earlier, and that told me that the continuity game was suddenly official. So I'd spend all my free time on the old official Zelda forums, analyzing the minutiae of the series and offering theories to resolve all the contradictions, arguing whether it all fit into one timeline or if there were two timelines created by time travel. This behavior was generally encouraged by the Nintendo of America-paid moderators; for instance, they once sent me a Donkey Kong Country poster as reward for writing a particularly long post.

But as the years went on more Zelda games came out, and none of them provided any new references to other parts of the series. I was forced to realize that The Wind Waker had misled me. It was an idle thought someone on the team had had to suggest a chronology, but no one took it seriously and it would never be mentioned again.
WHOOSH!
Ahem. LOST was not Zelda. It wouldn't string me along on one or two little hints and then pretend it hadn't said anything. In LOST, the "big picture" wasn't just a bone thrown to the more obsessive fans, it was an integral part of the intended experience. Right from the pilot, characters were asking things like "Where are we?". In other stories it would just be the fans asking questions like those, and they wouldn't actually expect to get answers. But if a character says it, then we're supposed to be thinking along those lines. I'm not just crazy for wanting the "reality" of the show's world to become apparent. If there was some French woman whose voice came over the radio, we'd meet that woman a few episodes later. And when she talked about "The Others", we knew we'd meet them soon enough. And if not everything was answered, we'd keep theorizing and arguing and waiting, because this time it was in the service of a series that would respect us. This time we wouldn't be disappointed. And I think it's on this premise that LOST gained its massive geek fanbase. We knew that LOST wasn't just a TV show.

And sure, LOST can't be Zelda. It can't have that range of experiences, because it's working in a thoroughly passive medium. But it gets about as close as a lowly TV show can get to presenting that kind of fantasy world to lose yourself in. Every character who walks by has a long and interesting history. And that's not just for the fan-fiction to fill in- it'll be spelled out by the show itself. The episodes tell a wide variety of stories, giving the progression of the show all the unpredictability of life. The stories were dramatic but messy and open-ended. And with each new flashback filling in new bits of a character's life, I got more of the sense that the whole life was real, not just the parts we were seeing, and the rest would be filled in later. And every character that was introduced, every landmark of the island's geography which was discovered, every idea put forth would still be there when the camera turned away, and would still be there later. Because that's the sort of show that LOST led me to believe it was.

I theorized accordingly. There needed to be absolute consistency. There needed to be sense behind every event. Every person had motivations, even the ones we only met in passing. Their philosophies and worldviews were complicated and reasonable. The island would be as real a place as a TV show can aspire to be, and LOST would be the greatest show ever created, and everyone would recognize it for what it was come the finale but I arrived there first. So I rewatched the show and I paced around the room for hours between some episodes and I argued with myself and I filtered everything I saw and heard in life into my considerations and in the end I came up with my elegant theory explaining everything, and since I'd never heard an elegant theory explaining everything before I was convinced that I was right. Jacob was the Jacob of the Torah/Bible. The man wearing black was the angel of death that Jacob fought with in the Torah, who in some Jewish traditions is named Samael. Samael uses dead people to manipulate the living people into killing each other, Jacob tries to keep the living people going in the right direction without infringing on their free will and he can never pull this off too well. Everything fit. The finale would begin with a flashback to the Jacob & Esau story, and then everyone would know what I had already figured out: the island was the kind of world we'd always been waiting for, though maybe we hadn't realized it.

The finale was fantastic. It was emotional, it brought back lots of characters, it was exciting, it was thought-provoking, it was as manipulative as I like it, I watched it with my sister Dena knowing what a privilege it was to be able to share such a world with someone else, and when the finale was over we both agreed that it had blown us away. Truly a quality episode. And I'm sure Dena's investment in the show ended there, because she's never been interested in the "big picture" story of LOST. It's a TV show, it's entertaining, it's a good way to pass the time.

In the hours and days after that, I ran through the series in my head. It wasn't what I'd expected, I'd basically come to terms with that when season 6 began, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it didn't work on its own terms either, not if I wanted it to be anything more than a silly TV show containing a string of random and disconnected events. But maybe that was enough. After all, they had been an entertaining string of events. "I always knew it was just a TV show...", I lied to myself.

And then I heard something on the internet that started getting me angry. I don't know if it's true, and if it's true I can't be sure of what it means. But that just makes it more infuriating. You see, apparently the man in black had a name in the scripts. I guess I never really thought about that, but obviously he needs to be referred to as something, so the writers did have a name for him which they never told us. His name was Samuel. If there's a connection to the biblical Samuel I don't see it, so I'm going to believe that that name comes from Samael, the angel of death. I'm going to believe that up to the end of season 5, my theory was absolutely right, and in the nine months before the following episode they changed their mind in order to make it more universal, less Judeo-Christian, and less close to what the majority of fans had guessed it was (Jacob and Esau, guarding purgatory). I'm going to believe that the bodies in the cave in season 1 that were referred to jokingly as "Adam and Eve" actually were meant to be Adam and Eve when that scene was written, but then they changed it to something less interesting to surprise people. I'm going to believe that LOST makes sense...

Oh, who am I kidding. I can't believe that anymore. Even if I'm right, it's never going to feel like I'm right. I'm not going to pretend season 6 didn't happen. It happened, and it's over now, and LOST isn't the best TV show ever, it's not even the best TV show ever created by J.J. Abrams! (That would be Felicity.) It was just a fun and silly little TV show, nothing more.

[sigh]

But let's see what we can salvage of the narrative. I interpret the light that envelopes everyone at the end of "The End", the light of death, to be the same mysterious light that's in that cave. That would imply that the island is on the border between the living world and the afterlife. Some more clues: there's a big cork in the cave that shouldn't be pulled out, there are skeletons in the cave, there's a massive statue on the island that looks Egyptian and there are hieroglyphics all over the place, there was once an ancient crazy protector who spoke Latin. And in the afterlife we've been told by Christian Shepard (God bless the exposition deliveryman!) that "there is no now", and the universe where Oceanic 815 never crashed was created by the survivors. Here's my theory, for old time's sake.

The afterlife is quite a bit looser on rules and limitations than the real world. You can do whatever you feel you need. You can construct worlds with dream-logic, where you know that that world is going to give you exactly what you need emotionally and then you can move on. Time has no limitations, you can really take as long as you need. And space has no limitations, because you can always find your soulmate right next to you if you know who you're looking for. Reality is a pure white light, or more accurately a big white sheet of paper, on which you can draw whatever you want.

Once upon a time the division between Earth and the afterlife wasn't sharp. The island which connected it to the greater whole of reality was left open, letting in more of that white light than was probably a good idea. People with strong enough willpower could bend or even reshape reality. Miracles happened in great quantity. There was much interaction with dead people as a matter of course. People lived for far too long, and in that time they made each other miserable. So some ancient group made an expedition to the original island, which was still well-known at that point, to try to close off the rest of reality. After countless failed attempts to get into the border between this world and the next, one woman made it in and succeeded in closing the door. Some spirituality still leaked through, but most of it only got as far as the island. From then on, the rest of the world was relatively sane and boring, and the amount of suffering people could inflict on each other was limited by the strict laws of nature.

She used the magic of the island to give herself immortality, and hide the island from potential newcomers, and whatever else she wanted to do. Over countless millennia she lost her sanity to stress and isolation, never trusting anyone else who might undo her work. She wished she could just kill herself and get it over with, but if she didn't protect the island no one else would. The pregnant woman who washed up presented a solution: if she raised a kid herself, that kid could be manipulated into being a perfectly trustworthy replacement. When the mother gave birth to twins, the protector left them both as potential candidates. She didn't let either one leave, she didn't let them out of her control for one minute, and she put them into competition with one another to find out which one had the right qualities for the job. That last part seemed a bit risky, so just to be safe she cast a spell making it impossible for the two boys to kill each other. She eventually gave the job to mama's-boy Jacob, who turned out just like her: manipulative, evil, antisocial, arrogant, etc.. She was killed by the other kid, Jacob threw him into the cave, and since his body died but Jacob couldn't technically kill him, his spirit hung around to become a bona fide supervillain with all the nifty powers that entails. Jacob figured out how to get off the island, but wouldn't share that information with his brother because he was vindictive.

The two of them stayed on the island for a very long time, and both became even crazier than the old protector. Evidence of their insanity can be found in their nonsense dialogue from the beginning of the last episode of season 5, which now makes no sense to me at all unless it's taken as proof that their brains have been fried. This little bit of insight will be crucial in understanding what happened in the rest of the show.

The Black Rock, whose captain was named Magnus Hanso, crashed on the island. It's reasonable to assume that he's the ancestor of Alvar Hanso, who founded the DHARMA initiative according to that first orientation video. Jacob's brother killed all the passengers but one, and tried to trick the one remaining guy into killing Jacob because he was still under a spell preventing him from doing the job himself. It didn't work- he just ended up being Jacob's spokesperson. A century later the smoke monster tried this tactic again with a team of French scientists, and the survivor got so paranoid she wouldn't listen to anything. Mr. Monster had to concede that he might need to rethink his methods.

Between those two events, the DHARMA initiative came because they were so interested in the mystery of what happened to Magnus Hanso. They found that the island had very interesting properties and started doing science experiments that threatened to open up the island again. Jacob rounded up some people he'd gotten together from various crashes and tried to kill them all. This, by the way, has absolutely nothing to do with the whole white/black conflict between the brothers. Neither does the hatch, the time-travelers in the 70s, the feud between Ben and Widmore, kidnapping Walt, creating a disease that kills off pregnant women, or most of the other things that ever happened on this series. None of that has any practical purpose, all of it could have been easily prevented and so all of it can ultimately be filed under "crazy things which the brothers set in motion in order to amuse themselves". See, it gets awfully boring on the island without entertainment. Did you know they don't get cable there?

Anyway, Oceanic 815 crashed because Jacob wanted it to crash, because he'd carefully planted lots of people on that plane who he'd taken a stalker-ish interest in since they were little kids. He'd watched them since they were little kids, and manipulated all their lives at crucial moments. Because if there's one thing he'd learned from his mother (other than that all pregnant women deserve to be murdered), it's that you can't trust anyone unless you've brainwashed them yourself. So they all crashed on schedule, and Smokey killed their pilot because if there's one thing he'd learned from his mother (other than that manipulations are fun!), it's that you don't risk letting your victims escape. But after that he didn't know what his next move should be, because the whole intimidation thing hadn't worked out so well the past few times. So he just took a form that he didn't think would scare anyone -that of a dead guy- and tried to work up the nerve to ask them out to the Jacob-killing party. It took him a few years, because the first thing to go in his years of isolation was his social skills. Which to be honest, weren't so great to begin with.

Jacob applied all the lessons he'd learned from his beloved mother on the newcomers: He didn't give them an opportunity to leave, he kept them in isolation, he tried to get them to compete with each other. His master plan was to leave them out in the jungle until the vast majority of them either killed each other off or died to the chaos of the island. The ones that died clearly weren't cut out for the job. The ones who couldn't figure out for themselves how to find food and drink, they were certainly out. He also wanted to see if any of the group abandoned the rest, because you can't be a good protector if you care about people, but they kept disappointing him by sticking together. If one of them murdered all the rest and declared himself king of the island, that's when Jacob would declare him the winner, deliver the one million dollar prize, and get the heck off that godforsaken island.

Through all the strange randomness of the following events, some people actually managed to find some faith in the universe. There was a plan, and it would all make sense in the end. By having miracles occur all over the place, the island made it clear that there was a purpose to be found. So Locke got excited about things like a light in the ground, and Jack became convinced that the island was where he was meant to spend the rest of his life, and Desmond decided that nothing in reality mattered because doomsday would come and then he'd be resurrected into an alternate universe.

They were all morons, of course. Jack's term as protector lasted around a half hour, and consisted of being tricked into pulling out the plug from the island, putting the plug back in, and then dying. Locke entered numbers into the hatch computer every 108 minutes even though its entire purpose -getting Oceanic 815 to crash- had already happened, then he took control of the Others just to lose them immediately to time travel, and then he left the island to be senselessly murdered. And Desmond misunderstood what the Flash-sideways world was, he was never resurrected, and it's not clear if he ever got back to Penny but it's also not clear if he cares anymore because he's gotten so deluded about the nature of the universe.

The show is riddled with massive plot holes, for instance: The smoke monster telling Sayid to kill Desmond, even though his entire plan hinged on Desmond's involvement. Locke spent half a season trying to get into the hatch from on top when there was a front door he could have knocked on right down below. And Jack saw his father off of the island, showing that as of season 4 the writers hadn't decided that Christian Shepard was really an entity trapped on the island. But even if you get past this and all the other plot holes, you still have to realize that all the characters fit into three categories: insane, wrong, and willfully ignorant. And that makes the entire plot very stupid.

There isn't even a happy ending, though the afterlife subplot makes us feel as though there is. Most of the characters have died senseless deaths. Even the ones who seemed to die heroically, saving others, they died senselessly too because all the people they saved were killed off later. A few people get off the island, but we know courtesy of the afterlife that their only real love was for the people who had already died. So they don't get such happy endings either. The only people who get happy endings are Rose and Bernard, the ones who decided that they didn't care about the "big picture" of it all.

Wait a minute, I think I see what the story is about now! Two madmen creating random events without any plan... manipulations to try to trick people into thinking that there's a purpose... no one who wanted anything special from the island got any satisfaction, and then the story ended.... It's all a metaphor... a metaphor for a very silly TV show!

I expected better. But the whole illusion that spoke to me, of this island with its dream-reality and its answers, just collapsed in the end like a pile of cards. And now I'm left looking like the moron because I didn't want to be told that it was just a TV show all along, I wanted to believe there was hope of something more there. I will yet find an alternate world with purpose to it. With each new series that pulls this trick it get harder to believe, but I take that as a challenge. My faith in pop-culture will be affirmed! Um.. any year now...




JACK: It's a strange thing, understanding exactly why I'm here.

SAWYER: Feelin' any different, doc?

KATE: You know what? I think it was worth it.

JACK: Yeah. It sure was. Could I have some more of that lemonade?

-from the last episode of LOST


2010, June 2nd, 23:38 and 41 seconds

Performance reviews for June 2010

*By the way, the person who's buying the house probably is tearing it down and letting some amateur design a new one. [sigh]
(This post will be updated throughout the month.)

four comments, the last one being from myself
 Mory said:

Instead of having comments for specific posts, I'm going to have comment sections like this one for multiple posts. So basically, write comments here addressed to any recent post until I make a new comment section.

Blogger Kyler said:

Whenever someone I know decides to make some sort of self review system, I always think of this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qkkQIzQ4VI

Though I guess this is only the second time this has happened.

Blogger Richie said:

I can't figure out what are mundane activities, relative to the other tasks that are broken out.

 Mory said:

At the end of the day I tally up all the time I spent on things I find noteworthy, things where there can be some sort of progress toward some sort of eventual goal. And then I subtract that from the total time of the day, and what's left is "mundane activities". It's not that I didn't do anything in that time, it's that I didn't do anything which I consider to be of any interest at all.

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2010, May 26th, 20:06 and 58 seconds

The Five Games

I play many games on a regular basis, but the most important of these games is the creation of new games. I could explain the reason thusly: in other games I am only finding and preserving opportunities for myself, and in creating games I am finding and preserving opportunities for other gamists. Given that attitude, it's only right to resolve that in every full day I have I need to at least do some token amount of work on new games. (I'm throwing out the Thursday policy, though it served me well, because it no longer suits my personality.)

I have many ideas for games I could make, but there are five in particular which are more important than the others. Most of my ideas, I won't be too broken up about if I don't get to them. But these five are absolute necessities. Whatever happens in my life, I am going to make these five games in some form. The reason I consider them more important than the other ideas is, as you'd expect, that these are the five ideas I have which have the most potential to create new opportunities in gamism. I'm going to back up that sentence by explaining exactly what I hope to achieve with these five games.

Now, what I'm not going to do is name the five games. If I did, you'd know exactly what I intended to do with each one because I've already partially described each one on this blog somewhere. And I don't think these ideas should be set in stone just yet. While each game is a necessary component of the rest of my life, until I make them I want to be open to developing these ideas. Just two days ago, while focusing all my energies for the day onto the fantastic rhythm platformer Bit.Trip Runner (That excess of focus was out-of-character, and I won't do anything like it again.), the entire structure for my first major game reassembled itself in my mind. I might as well tell you that the game I'm talking about here is Through the Wind, because I've already said in no uncertain terms that I'm going to make it. Anyway, playing this hyper-focused $8 independent game made me realize that my ideas for the structure of Through the Wind were derived from the messy approaches of the mainstream game industry, and that a different attitude about structure would not only turn my idea into something I could conceivably make on my own, but also serve the purposes of the game more effectively.

But let's get to what the purpose of these games is. Each of the five games is a pure example of a different Form: platformer, adventure, exploration, role-playing and metalude. (Perhaps the word "pure" is a bit meaningless when applied to RPGs and metaludes, but you get my idea.) Each of these art forms has problems. The goal of making the five games is to fix those problems, and take the Forms to a healthier and creatively more sustainable place.

To do this, it's not enough to just present the vision. I also need to really sell it to the mainstream. To that end, there are three goals each game needs to achieve in its own way:
  1. They need to be really good. They need to give good experiences, which are rich and long and could only be possible in the Forms I'm using. If the game is memorable and interesting and leaves the player wanting more it'll inspire other gamists to imitate what I'm doing, which is the whole point of making these games in the first place.
  2. They need to be appealing and accessible to people who have never played videogames before, and even to some people who have never wanted to play videogames before. Currently most games are being sold to one particular kind of gamer whose meager demands are already being met. To create demand for different approaches, different audiences need to be engaged.
  3. The experience needs to start out with elements that every existing fan of the Form is going to recognize and be comfortable with, so that by the time they figure out it's not like the games they know they'll already be hooked. It would be a bit evil to go too far, which would get people on both sides of the audience frustrated. But used sparingly, this approach would ease the old gamers into the new games. I don't want to alienate all the old gamers if I can help it.

The five Forms I need to work with fit into two categories.
  • Platformers, adventures and role-playing games have been clearly estalished according to certain formulas. Those formulas started out being perfectly sensible methods of establishing the primary content of the Forms, but as time has gone on we've run into the upper limits of these approaches. They're too rigid- they can only provide a limited subset of the experiences the Forms ought to allow for. So we've gotten to the point where in order to keep moving, gamists simply add on more and more complexities to the rules, getting farther and farther away from the reason these games were worth playing in the first place. They bury the primary content under mountains of irrelevant crap, because they don't see where else they can go.
  • Exploration games and metaludes have not been widely recognized as existing kinds of games -the exploration game because it's so simple that it's taken for granted and the metalude because it's so complicated that only brilliant gamists tend to understand it at all. A few gamists have the intuition to make these games anyway, whether or not they have a word for what they're making. But because no one else (gamists included) understands what they're doing, they assume that these are one-off concepts with no possibility of valid artistic imitation.
All these Forms can be fixed. Here's how.

First off, the formulas need to be broken. In each of my five ideas, I've planned how I can cut away most of the rules which the Forms have developed so far, in order to get closer to their spirit. So some people will look at these games and not recognize them as their Forms, but those who really like these kinds of games will play through them and realize that they're giving them what they want in a more pure form than the games they know, just in a totally different way.

And speaking of "pure", that's really important too. The best-case scenario with these games is that I make them and they're good and they're imitated. If that's not how the story goes, then the story's flawed. But there's a risk that in being imitated, the details of what I've done will become a new formula every bit as bad as the old one. So I need to make sure that there are as few extraneous elements as possible, to decrease the likelihood of being misunderstood. If every element of these games is single-mindedly focused on the primary content, then everyone who plays these games will understand what the game is about. So the adventure, role-playing game and metalude all need to be obsessively focused on storytelling, the exploration game needs to be obsessively focused on world design, and the platformer needs to be obsessively focused on controls. Any design element which is not directly responsible for holding up the primary content has no place in these games.

But within those limits, I ought to play around a lot. Each game needs to present its Form from many different angles, where different people can go through the game different ways and get different things out of it. Let me explain why this is necessary. If I had all the time in the world, or I guess if I were choosing to devote all the time in my life to games, then I could make multiple games in each of the five Forms, with each game in a different genre and style. That way, there would be no confusion of which aspects of my games are to be imitated and which are just suggestions, because in looking at all the diverse games of one Form I would have made, between them other gamists would see a large range of possibility. But for all I know (since it's all I'm dictating here) I might just be making one game in each Form, so each one needs to do the work of several in suggesting possibilities.

Now, to leave the rationally justifiable for a moment, there are certain things I would like to do in each of the three stories. They will be more driven by character than plot, focusing on protagonists who aren't exactly heroes and have complicated motivations. There will be as much symbolism as I can possibly cram in, with common themes between the games including: the limits of what humanity can and should try to achieve, misplaced loyalty to authority figures (including some of the main characters), trying to find an identity through conflict with oneself, etc. Some of these themes may find their way into the platformer and exploration game as well, though in much more abstract form. Another thing I'd like to do in all the stories is to subvert clichés: to set up really obvious situations where every player will think they know exactly where the story is going, when actually I'm going in a completely different direction. Similarly, all the stories will start out light and fluffy, dealing with kids and innocence and simple ideas, and get progressively more twisted and complicated (and possibly dark) as the stories go on.

Incidentally, these aren't just random ideas I'm throwing out there. I do know what the three stories are going to be, in broad strokes, and in each of these stories there are specific ways I'll do all these things. Again, I'm not being too specific in this post because I want to leave some room for me to change my mind about the details in the years to come.

If I make these five games, and each of them is good, and each of them ends up being (to some extent) influential, then my life will have been a good one. Though there will be plenty of games to play in my life, all of them tie in with these five games, in that the experiences will either teach me valuable lessons I can apply toward the games, or build up a reputation which I can use to sell the games with, or get me into a place emotionally where I can work on these games without being distracted by the feeling that I'm missing something. (That third one may be an excuse, but I'm sticking with it.) If any things I do outright prevent me from making every last one of these games before I die, then those activities are mistakes. I might need to figure out which activities those are. I wish I knew exactly how much time I have left!

Ultimately what this will do for me is give me some sort of place in the world, so that when there's no time left I can feel like I've left the world a little bit different than I found it. I guess I could do basically the same sort of thing by getting married and having a family. But hey, I have to be realistic.


2010, May 20th, 17:51 and 48 seconds

Mory 3.0

Once upon a time, long before the revolution, there was a reasonable person named Mory who lived on a blog. Though he travelled to many worlds -among them the kingdom of Hyrule, and the faraway land of Israel, and even an abstract realm of music where nothing can exist but emotion- he brought the blog with him wheresoever he went. Now, Mory was a creator by nature. He had yet to find a satisfaction in any world to rival the joy of creating a new experience. But in the unexplored darkness between all worlds, it is hard to see so clearly. When he would play a game for quitters, he might think himself a quitter. So the blog would say to him: Remember that you are Mory, who will travel to the ends of all the worlds in the service of the right silly idea! And when he would play a game of passivity, he might think himself passive. So the blog would say to him: Remember that you are Mory, who has an unquenchable thirst for life!
It may be said that his self never reached any heights. But this is not his tale.
This is the tale of Mory, his blog ever lighting the way, and it is a tale worth telling.

Eight years ago, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time saved me. At the time I was still trying to get the first version of myself right, and nothing seemed to work. I'd tried being outspoken and I'd tried being quiet. I'd tried being considerate and I'd tried being violent. I'd tried acting normal, I'd tried acting suicidal, I'd tried every social game I could find to play, and somehow it all ended up with me losing. What I didn't understand back then was that all those normal people I saw, they weren't acting. They weren't conscious of all the games they were playing, because as far as they were concerned there was only one game in the store. So they didn't see that you could win or lose. They didn't care whether there was anywhere to go in this game. It worked for them, and that was enough. But it didn't work for me. Ordinary life is a badly designed game, and I seemed to be the only one around who noticed.

So I was starting to give up on ever having an identity worth a damn, when I played an illegally emulated copy of Ocarina of Time. It was my first exposure to metaludes, a kind of game which contains within it several kinds of game. Zelda specifically has action, puzzles and exploration, and a big emotional journey giving it all relevance. I had found what I needed: a replacement for reality. Instead of juggling lots of games in the real world which couldn't possibly get me anywhere, I could get a similar range of experiences from a better game. True, it was only three kinds of game. But it was a start. Someday, maybe not in my lifetime but someday, reality wouldn't matter anymore because all experiences could be found elsewhere.

One of my fellow actors in The Matchmaker, a girl named Sarit, asked me what would be the most happiness I could possibly get out of life. I replied, "An MMO.". A massively multiplayer online game with its own society, and its own economy, and a world where you can do lots of different kinds of things but all of it matters for later? That sounds to me like the first step toward the revolution! And I said to Sarit that I've never allowed myself to join an MMO, because then I'd never want to do anything else. I told her I'd willingly sacrifice my happiness, if it meant that I could achieve great things. She didn't believe a word of it. But I tried to say it with conviction, because the idea of sacrificing happiness for meaning was a cornerstone of the shortlived second version of myself.

I think maybe she was responding to the artificiality of the act. A curious aspect of Sarit's acting is that she only ever plays one part. Early in the production she was playing Ermengarde, and on stage she played Minnie. She acted the same playing both characters, because it's the same way she acts in real life. Meanwhile, I was playing both Barnaby and Ambrose, and pushing each performance in a direction far away from my normal behavior but consistent in itself. It drove her crazy that I did this. Between scenes I stayed in character with the mannerisms and personalities of Barnaby or Ambrose, and she kept telling me to get out of character because I was "freaking her out". And she told me a few times that she couldn't stand Barnaby in general; I suspect that's because his behavior was never my behavior. And since she didn't like Barnaby, she didn't like pretending her character liked Barnaby. In short, Sarit displayed a typical pre-revolution attitude. There's one game to play, and don't you dare contradict it.

Videogames have taught me otherwise. I have enjoyed games of many Forms and many genres, and this is because I'm not close-minded about my identity. In one game I'll be chatting with other players and in another I'll be quietly reflective. In one game I'll be considerate, and in another I'll be violent. In one game I'll be calm and in another I'll be reckless. Whatever I need to turn myself into to experience the game to the fullest, that's who I'll be as I'm playing. Because in every one of these cases, the act I put on is going to be rewarded.

I've always wondered why it is that us Asperger's people all like videogames. And maybe that's the reason. We know how to act, and we're performing to audiences that won't ever be satisfied. There's a stereotype of Asperger's Syndrome that says we've got dull facial expressions, no emotions, and cold attitudes. That's the act. Everyone has dull facial expressions and a lack of emotions and a cold attitude compared to how I'd like to act, so in keeping up those appearances I'm trying to fit in. And maybe I might have gone a bit overboard with those elements when I was younger, and now I've made it a more subtle performance. But it's still a performance.

Games have taught me that that's okay. I can do this performance now, and then jump to a different performance just by turning on a game console. Reality no longer has a monopoly on existence.

My identity as "Mory" is a fictional character. I am just the actor playing the character, believing through self-deception that I'm him so that my emotions are more genuine. And with the help of this blog, I am also the character's writer. I get to decide what every event that happens to him means. I get to look at where he's been and decide where his story arc concludes. I get to be frustrated with what he's doing and change it. If I ever forget my next line, the blog feeds it to me. If I'm ever uncertain about my actions, I look at the structure of the blog and remember where I'm going. Without this detachment between writer and character, I might never have picked myself up and started making my games. And that would be a real shame.

When the revolution comes, no one will think there's one right way to be. Everyone will know better, because everyone will be playing dozens of different characters on a regular basis. When gamism expands to include every kind of experience imaginable, everyone will be playing the games that are right for them and not the games that others have dictated for them. Gamism will be the cure for the close-mindedness of society. And the revolution will come someday. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even in my lifetime. But someday.

Unfortunately, it won't come easily. Gamism is being mismanaged by an industry that is mostly oblivious to its potential. With each passing year the public's perception of gamism gets narrower and narrower, with the open expanses of the darkness walled off by formulas and expectations. And so it falls to me, and others like me perhaps, to give the medium a push in the right direction.

So tell me, blog: what game do I play? If I limit myself to the real world in order to make my plans successful, then I am a hypocrite. But if I go back to playing the games that are least frustrating, I may never do my part for the revolution. There's a middle ground somewhere between the two. I don't know exactly what that means, but I'll figure it out. You know how I know? Because the story of the blog wouldn't make sense if an idea like that were set up in the first post of a section and never paid off. So I think the first step to being the person I need to be is to reaffirm that the real world doesn't matter. My blog's fictionalization of the real world is much more important, and it's going to be much better written. The first line spoken should be something like this:
MORY: There is no satisfaction in all the worlds to rival the joy of creating a new experience!


2010, May 16th, 18:44 and 43 seconds

The world is chaotic.
The world is repressive.
The world is wrong.
It's me vs. the world
and I'm going to win.


Here ends Part II.

The continuation of the story has already started on www.thebuckmans.com/mory, which is the new permanent home of this blog for the forseeable future. Don't sit around at the old site waiting for updates. If you're interested in finding out where The March of Bulk and The Matchmaker and the CD and my life all end up, you should come over to the new address. It doesn't bite.

The new RSS feed is www.thebuckmans.com/mory/feed.xml. So if you've been following the old feed, you'll have to replace it with the new one.

Well then. Time to get to work.

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Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

I sing the melody line for the first four bars of "A Lonely Journey", quietly, very slowly and with minimalistic accompaniment. That gets the audience familiar with and interested in the main theme. Then I stop singing and switch to piano. I don't shy away from the tedious repetition at the end; I make it longer, and speak over it: "It's over as quickly as it began."...

I talk about The Rules, and then play "Variations On V.O.V." and the three following movements...

Saturday, May 15, 2010

First Movement

  1. Variations On V.O.V.
  2. Impromptu
  3. Let's get this over with already.
  4. Finale

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I've replaced the audio file with a much better recording.

Here are the notes, in PDF format. The piece will make a lot more logical sense if you see the notes as you listen.

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The Gamist
The Gamist is a creator by nature, and he would travel to the ends of all the worlds in the service of the right silly idea. He does not concern himself with classification, trends or public opinion - he knows what he needs to do, and that is all that matters.

Friday, May 08, 2015

Someone advertises that they're looking for someone to make a computer game with. I call them up. It's a teenaged boy who's never programmed, written, drawn or designed anything, but has a lot of enthusiasm for a world he has in his head. He doesn't particularly care about gameplay, but he has detailed descriptions of cutscenes he wants. I give him some ideas, he rejects them because they're not what big-budget games do. He's looking for someone to make his vision for him. I don't call again.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

I vs. I

A game by Mordechai Buckman


Late-night thoughts, none of them new
I scare people away, don't I. I wanted to argue with everyone, and now I've got no one left to argue with. No one but myself.

I'm not.

Just let me win already.

IF only
And what's so wonderful about arguing, that I'd want to do it even with myself?

♫ Some Day Myself Will Come… ♫

Who am I?

This is just stupid.
Maybe it's my fault, like she said. Maybe if I'd given my characters more to do, they would have stuck around.

Oh, no. Conflicted about the blog?

a quiet day
Wasn't the dream to love myself? I like that dream. What happened to it?

Myself and I

Two Glasses
Well, I never fit in with the kids at school...

Good Riddance

Rebellion Renewed
Seriously, what the hell am I doing here? I've been working on this post for months, and for what? Just to will into existence a conflict, to provide a suitable climax to a section of my life which I've defined myself! Okay, I've done artificially self-referential nonsense before, but this is going too far.

Matters of Taste

God damn it.
I feel like I'm playing that unwinnable game of Tetris. The more I write, the more I have left to write later!

Hollow Depth.

Every structure should have an exit.

Scene-switching
You know what? I'm out.












Just let me win already.
But this line of thought is getting me nowhere. Let's move on.

The Thinkers
Maybe some people like artificially self-referential nonsense!

Nonlinear long-form storytelling

Excellence vs. Accessibility
Granted, that's gotta be a small minority. I understand that most people want blogs to be simple. But if I want to do something bigger and more complex and even maybe a bit artificial, well, there's value in that too.

Purveyor of Silliness
I'm using an interesting structure here, okay? Give me some credit.

Purveyor of Silliness
which is right, I guess. I'm not supposed to fit in.

An Evil Statement

Game flow control
What is wrong with me? It's been five years since I got out of school, why am I still complaining about it?

You can take the kid out of the school…

21 Now
5 days, 5 years... what's the difference.

Deadline
It's a shame this post doesn't let you take back button-presses; that was a stupid thing to say.

An Evil Statement
Look, if God wanted me to be happy, he would have put me in a world where I didn't have to play the outcast. But I'm not supposed to be happy, I'm supposed to bring some more conflict to the world.

Religion

Counting Blessings

The Pathetic Life of a Super-Villain
No one "gets over" their past, they just learn to live with it.

"So what are you doing next year?"
Maybe it was just unrealistic. Reflections of myself (like this blog, for instance) are just going to magnify my flaws, like a microphone turned on its speaker. Only other people (who I insist on driving away, for some reason) can have a positive impact.

Diversity (and lack thereof)

Interview with an Ideal
But how am I supposed to meet those people who I ought to meet, if I'm perfectly content just jabbering to myself?

Interview with an Ideal
My relationship with myself is... complicated.

Simplify!

On a Scale From
I'm not the sort of person that can love anything or anyone unconditionally, not even myself. Everything's on a scale from 1 to 10, everything's subject to scrutiny and evaluation.

Is it really a good show?
But that's no excuse for ignoring feelings. When I analyze and challenge my gut feelings, I usually find that they make sense.

I couldn't figure out the math before.
Then let's make it simple.

Natural / Rational

The Trip
And that's what I'm doing, isn't it? All that frustration with the way things are has gotten me to realize that videogames are what I have to offer in my life.

I'll keep this brief.
By this point, I feel like nothing else in the world is particularly important, except for gamism.

I've been workin' on the weblog, all the live-long day...
And yet, I'm spending more time on this blog post than on The March of Bulk.

No Way To Run A Production
That's what I do, isn't it? I take complex life experiences, and boil them down into a collection of simple ideas.

Easterly Wave

Natural / Rational

Snapshots
Remind me again, how has that interpreting-the-world thing gone so far? Flawless track record, I take it?

That's better.

How To Fix X-Men
Oh, shut up. If I took the time to get all the necessary information and made an informed interpretation, I'd get it right.

Do I overthink things? I don't know, let me think about that...
The truth is, the world is never really going to make sense to me. When I look at the apparent imperfections and contradictions in the world I can find a nice and neat little theory to explain how they'll make way for something better, but in the end that something better isn't going to come and the apparent imperfections will still be there. Face it: stories never go where I want them to. Why should life be any different?

Do I overthink things? I don't know, let me think about that...
But the ideas don't matter so much. Life isn't a series of ideas, it's a series of moments, and those are much more complicated. You can't boil an experience down into ideas without losing something.

The Seven Levels of Experience
Bah. Experiences only mean anything when they have an effect on me, and those effects always make sense.

Worth the paper

I couldn't figure out the math before.

Do I overthink things? I don't know, let me think about that...
Sometimes it seems like there's no sense, but I just need to be patient. If I try hard enough to make sense of things, they'll make sense.

Presents / Self Defense

Do I overthink things? I don't know, let me think about that...
I may be thinking too much.

Universal notation
But why should I bother trying to see the world so objectively? That's not even possible, really. So why not put aside the rationalizing and just try to enjoy life a little?

Deadline
Maybe it's better to not understand everything.

Many Excuses

the mundane and The Imaginary!
The real world is pretty dull, after all. Better to leave it mysterious and imagine that it's prettier than it is.

Beauty of the Mundane, Banality of the Imaginary
It's not enough for me to just have a thought, I always feel like I need to construct a whole system of thought around it so that it'll have perfect context. Every thought I might ever want to think needs to fit together somehow. That's not even really rationality anymore, it's just my obsessive need to neatly categorize everything. Not everything can or should be categorized!

Gamism Theory

Seventy-four
Sometimes there just isn't any real meaning to be found!

Gamism Theory
No, everything in the world can be fit together somehow, if I really sit down and try. I'm sure of it.

So simple an idea...

The correct way for How I Met Your Mother to end
Those little details in life that don't seem to matter will turn out to all be connected to each other. It all makes sense, really it does, I just need to figure out how. Maybe it won't be worth the wait, but it'll all fit together in the end.

"Are games art?"
And I think I know roughly what I'll find out. At some point by the end of my life, I'm going to be an influential gamist.

74
Since when am I so religious?

My American Brethren

Day of Wrest
Maybe I should go easy on the anti-society posturing. Life never goes well for the bad guy.

Superhero Symbolism: "Omega the Unknown"
Anyway, I prefer to think of myself as a misunderstood hero.

Interview with an Ideal
Hm. The "God hates me" rant would be a lot more convincing if I weren't so spoiled in so many ways.

Day of Wrest
I'm more religious than some.

7.00

A Typical Story
For me, religion is as much about making my father happy as it is about God. So I shouldn't be too quick to compare "how religious I am" to other people.

7.00
And don't I still resent God a little for imposing Shabbat on me? •  • 
As the song goes:
Shabbat is over
My life may now resume
I thought I wouldn't make it
I thought I'd met my doom
I thought I couldn't take it
'Cause twenty-five hours is much too long for pacing 'round the room.
But enough of all this gloom
Shabbat is over
Time for a better day
My Gamecube and piano and computer I can play
Hooray! Hooray!
Callooh! Callay!
Shabbat is over now, come hear sweet freedom's call
"Barukh hamavdil bayn kodesh l'khol"
But as I move on I have one final plea
Hey God, could you please quit your picking on me?
Spare me the endless monotony which comes every week
Let me live ever after happily or my future looks bleak
For what kind of life is it where every seven days I must go through a phase of such misery?
Let me be free of the madness!
Let me be free and let me feel gladness
Let me be free in a world without "shabbos"
Shabbat is over now
I'm free
I'm free
I'm free!

I enjoy Shabbat.
I've always gone on about how God is so antagonistic. And it's because of Shabbat, right? Every week, there's one day which I have to put aside to remind me that I'm not in control of my life, God is. This is what religion is to me- whatever God does for me, he's still the master and I'm still the slave, and if he decides on a rule I just have to go with it. •  • 
As the song goes:
Shabbat is over
My life may now resume
I thought I wouldn't make it
I thought I'd met my doom
I thought I couldn't take it
'Cause twenty-five hours is much too long for pacing 'round the room.
But enough of all this gloom
Shabbat is over
Time for a better day
My Gamecube and piano and computer I can play
Hooray! Hooray!
Callooh! Callay!
Shabbat is over now, come hear sweet freedom's call
"Barukh hamavdil bayn kodesh l'khol"
But as I move on I have one final plea
Hey God, could you please quit your picking on me?
Spare me the endless monotony which comes every week
Let me live ever after happily or my future looks bleak
For what kind of life is it where every seven days I must go through a phase of such misery?
Let me be free of the madness!
Let me be free and let me feel gladness
Let me be free in a world without "shabbos"
Shabbat is over now
I'm free
I'm free
I'm free!

I enjoy Shabbat.

Power Out
It's nice to have things taken away from us now and then. Every time we lose something, we gain something different. I just need to be open-minded enough to recognize what that is.

Friends

An Endless Shabbat
But I don't complain about that anymore. I realize now that Shabbat is a good thing.

Friends

Respite From Everything Else
That might just be because I'm working now. Anything will be more pleasant when there's a less-pleasant alternative. And Thursdays get really annoying.

Friends

An Endless Shabbat.
So I say, bring on the Shabbats. And bring on whatever God thinks I need! I can adapt.

Friends
But it's just as well, really- I do better without all the interruptions and awkward intrusions. I enjoy myself more, I get more done... it's all good.

The Multiplayer Experience

Socializing? Bleh!

Mistake, Lesson, Repeat
The worst part is when they try to give advice. Even with fictional characters- they all want me to be more like their idea of me, and less like my own. They all think they know what's best for me, especially the ones who don't understand me at all. Yep, better off without that headache. I'm better off without the company.

Please Insert Change
And what about all the great things you can only do with other people? What- are they supposed to find me?

Imagined Opportunities
No, it's just the nature of imaginary people. I always knew they'd let me down.

2.txt

Training Wheels Off

Meanwhile, in the future...
So that whole incident with expecting my imaginary girlfriend to be my boss... what was that, exactly?

Refuge

Start working.
Yeah, that was a mistake.

Refuge
It seemed to make sense, at the time. I had this character who could possibly have understood me, and recognizing that was just a huge relief compared to real people. So I got carried away.

Incompatible
No, I shouldn't be thinking about that. It's too tempting to start seeing possibilities that aren't there, and then I'd make a fool of myself... No.

Another one for the pile of regrets

Next Door to Opportunity
Sometimes it looks like there's something great just around the corner and all I have to do is walk over there and I'll get it, but then when I get there it turns out it was all just a trick of the light and I end up disappointed. Sometimes there's an opportunity right in front of my face, but that opportunity was only for someone else. Sometimes, I just can't get what I think I can get. I've got to stop thinking people will want to interact with me.

I Am a Rug, I Am an Onion
For most of the people I know, the default mode of interaction is smalltalk. I'm not missing much.

Incompatible
See, most of the people I know aren't people I could possibly have any kind of enjoyable relationship at all with.

Another one for the pile of regrets

Socializing in Solo
I'm surrounded by people who I can't relate to at all. Time and time again, I've seen that I can't get them to do anything with me.

Another one for the pile of regrets

Socializing in Solo

My Father And I Go To See Avatar
But what if there's someone who I'd want to meet? If I don't look to see what I'm missing, how will I ever know? What if there's someone who I really ought to get to know, but I only find out after it's too late?

People Who Need People

Outside the Comfort Zone

Fudgie and Willy
Sometimes it's worthwhile to be a little flexible.

People Who Need People
Yes, but what's the alternative? Relying on people who don't care that I'm relying on them?

My family

Matchmaker

Selfish Friendships
There's no sense in starting a relationship if I'm not going to get something out of it.

My family

Fudgie and Willy
Should I keep running after the emotional dead-end that is my family?

Friends

My Father And I Go To See Avatar
As long as I have a few friends to keep me company, I'll be fine. I don't really need any more than that.

I love my cat.
But why would anyone be my friend? I can't make them happy.

I Am a Rug, I Am an Onion
Anyway, I don't need them anymore. Over the course of writing them, I've come to see what they saw for myself.

Interview with an Ideal
Or was it me that let them down?

Interview with an Ideal
Pussywillow wasn't getting anything out of following Fudgie, and it's been years since he stopped. By my estimation, that makes me dumber than Pussywillow.

Matchmaker
Life is a single-player game. Throwing in more people ruins it.

Matchmaker
What about my father? He shares my interest in science-fiction, if he ever has the time for it.

We Don't Fit
Stop it already! Stop it! Why do I keep doing this to myself? My family is never going to do anything with me, except in very small doses and only if I keep prodding them and driving them crazy. This is not how a relationship is supposed to work!

Matchmaker
But I need human contact. That's a fact.

Pussywillow's embarrassing jump
So if and when I make a fool of myself, I've just got to pick myself up and try again. Eventually I'll find someone I can spend time with.

I Am a Rug, I Am an Onion
NOf course, no one has any obligation to even tolerate me. And who would? I'm a nobody.

Forward March
Alternatively, I could just give up now.

Illusory exodus

Natural / Rational
And what would that accomplish? An unearned freedom is just a temporary illusion.

Deadline

Purity
What's going on here is the age-old tension between emotions and ideas.

Purity

Playing Against Myself
No, it's the conflict between pretty thoughts and actual actions.

Who's telling this story, me or you?!

The Thinkers

Myst and Mirages
My god! How am I supposed to get a single coherent thought out, if every tiny little introductory statement I make is up for debate?

Natural / Rational
What's going on here is the age-old tension between emotions and ideas.

Purity
I don't want to be in conflict forever. It needs to be resolved.

The elimination of unworthy life

A Good Day

My Alphabet
So, what, some of my identity just gets thrown away like a bunch of weeds?

Order & Chaos

My Alphabet
Way it's gotta be. Either order wins, or chaos wins. There's no middle ground.

A Good Day
Thankfully, the solution is simple. I just need to have fun and stop worrying.

yawn... Hey, wait, does this blog still exist?

Alternate-Universe Me
Listen to me, I sound like a Hee fundamentalist. "Destroy the different! Maintain our idyllic state of purity!" I'm not sure it's less disturbing for the victim being myself.

The Perfect Color
But there's truth to it. A person who has opposing ideas fighting inside him is not going to have as much to offer society as a person who's let one idea thrive.

Wii
Then again, let's not exaggerate the importance of this truth. Not everything unfocused is necessarily bad! I like the Wii, don't I? The Wii is as unfocused as they come. And sure, I'd like it more if it were focused but I can appreciate it for what it is and it's been awfully influential for the interesting things it does. I wouldn't mind being like that.

Different Approaches
to Directing

The cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise
You can try to do one thing really well, or you can try to be competent at everything. Both approaches are valid.

The cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise
Hrmph. Things which aren't focused tend to go nowhere and end up with nothing accomplished. The same can be said of the Wii, and the same could be said of my life.

I'm supposed to be working now.
So I've got to stop distracting myself and focus on what matters.

Conflict, about the blog part 2
Which is probably what I did in most of the alternate universes out there, and it's certainly what my characters expect from me in this one. I'm a lazy person, it's in my nature. I'm perfectly content when doing nothing more than amusing myself. At any point I could stop fighting myself and let this timeline join the long list of others.

My interpretation of The Path
But at what point does the entertainment end? At what point do I start pursuing my actual plans for life?

Why am I here?
I have found that people who spend their days thinking about things tend to forget to ever do anything. It seems that the more you see the world in abstract concepts, the less involved you get with the world.

The Composer
It's a false world. Abstract concepts don't quite fit in it. It takes an ambitious person indeed to understand the world and still stay active in it.

Ready, Though Unworthy

It's always more frustrating than I expect.
And I'm not qualified to be that person. I'm not qualified to bring the real world closer to the world of ideas.

Mark Ecko, welcome to the Game Industry

Mimic and Mix
Or maybe I'm uniquely qualified. I'm always fitting random things from memory together in interesting ways. It seems to me that I couldn't do that if I didn't intuitively understand the ideas behind all those individual parts, and how those ideas worked in practice.

The Older Pianist

The Complete Rules of Moneyloopy

In Darkness
So okay, I don't know what I'm doing yet. But who does?

Mark Ecko, welcome to the Game Industry
If I'm not willing to push gamism in the right direction, then who will? The businessmen, who value money over creativity?

LostWinds: Tradition and Potential

Sports games

Now here's a good game!
The gamists, whose dreams are unfocused and aimless?

The Definitive Three-Step Method for Game Design

Sports games

Now here's a good game!
The gamers, who see all of gamism as one Form?

Sports games

Now here's a good game!
This is an industry where the most popular kind of game there is is sports games.

New Potentials

The Garden & Droplets: Metaludes
But there are some people who know what they're doing. Look at the work of Deirdra Kiai, for instance! She's throwing away all the old kinds of gameplay, and focusing on telling personal stories!

The Garden Needs Pruning: Adventures
So the adventure Form has one gardener who knows what she's doing. That's great. But considering that she's just one person and adventures are just one Form of many, I have to say that's not enough.

And so it begins...

Here, have some high culture.
Look at what David Shute is doing with exploration games! He's leaving out puzzles and action, and is doing some great work with world design!

The Garden & Droplets: Exploration
So there's one good gardener for exploration. That's not enough.

And so it begins...

Ball Revamped: Metaphysik
Look at the early work John Cooney did! He was making games which were focused on good control schemes...

The Garden & Droplets: Movement
Fine, so there might be one gardener for movement! But that's not enough!

And so it begins...
An industry so clueless, that my favorite kind of game isn't recognized at all!

New Potentials

And so it begins...
Listen to me. Gamism is going to get to where it needs to be, whether I'm involved or not.

Almost Possible
Oh, who do I think I'm fooling? I've seen what the current gamists are like. That time I went to Tel Aviv, I was surrounded by people whose only interest in gamism was monetary. The majority of Israeli game developers just make online gambling sites! There was only one guy there who I had any faith in at all. Roy Shapira knew what he needed to do and how to do it, and it was inspiring to talk to him. But his Form is action, which I don't even care about. And now I'm hearing that many of the people who'd been working for him have quit! And out of all those dozens of people in that bar in Tel Aviv, he was the only one with any potential at all. Really, who do I think I'm fooling. Gamism needs me.

74
What about all the new technologies that are being introduced these days? What about Project Natal, and Playstation Move, and even the Wii? Gamism is moving forward, with or without me.

The Impatient Phoenix Strikes (itself) Again!

Project Natal: Programmed By Machines
Project Natal works because it's generated by a computer program. No creativity needed, just efficiency. Businesses are good at that. Good software requires more of a human touch, and that's where the current crop of game developers are entirely inadequate.

Betrayal of Myst
Yeah, the industry's great at making new hardware. But when it's time to use that hardware for anything, they barely try.

Betrayal of Myst
When I look at how Myst fizzled out, and how Metroid was turned into an action series, and how Zelda has been spinning its wheels since 1998, I'm forced to conclude that the game industry does not know what it's doing.

74
No, it's the conflict between the old, real world and the new, virtual worlds.

Beauty of the Mundane, Banality of the Imaginary

Math Story
But you know, the real world really does have some appeal. Every world imaginable has its fair share of problems, and reality's no different, but it does have its charms.

Final Fantasy Tactics Advance
Which do not outweigh the problems, unfortunately. So I'll take escapism over reality any day.

Deadline
No, that's not it at all. I decided to develop multiple personalities back in ninth grade, when I was under a lot of social pressure. I remember that; I don't remember changing my mind. I just left it as something that I might do, should circumstances arise that call for it. Well, maybe I really did lightly split my personality back in ninth grade. Maybe the two of me have been arguing ever since, and that's where this entire blog is coming from.

Holy. Cabooses.
But it's only recently that I've forced myself to define my two personalities clearly. Funny how God arranges things, isn't it? The split is coming to a head now because only now do they have names: Barnaby and Ambrose. One is scared of the world and is just waiting to be told what to do, the other thinks he rules the world and is waiting for everyone to accept that.

Deadline

A buffer from the Real World
Barnaby has no problem with wasting time, because he expects the "Corneliuses" of the world to deal with reality for him.

Tanya's back, and all's well.
But Ambrose needs to be entirely self-reliant, because the other people he might be deluded into counting on tend to have warped priorities.

Deadline
I just need to take all the pieces life gives me, and rearrange them into a different kind of game.

So simple an idea…
But identities have to be built on actions. What actual actions have I taken that would suggest I'm better at fitting ideas together than the average person?

Inspiration
My music, for one thing. Look at any one of my compositions, I'm clearly good at imitation.

Quality Isn't Enough, Is It?

The Fundamental Interconnectedness Of All Things
I'm not the person I ought to be.

Conflict, about the blog part 2

I exist. No, really.

Forward March
I'm still not the person I ought to be. Putting myself up against that ideal should be as good for progress as putting myself up against other people.

Limits

I exist. No, really.

Forward March
I am making regular progress on the game.

No Way To Run A Production
If I'm not working on games, I could be doing lots of fun things but a part of me is going to know and that part of me is going to be depressed.

Purveyor of Silliness
When do I get serious about making games?

Tomorrow
I can't sit on the fence between "child" and "adult" forever. At some point I'll need to take a side.

Tomorrow

Home Collapsing

Happy 39th post!
How about later? Later sounds good.

Delayed, but successful

Glitchy transitions as horror
What's the rush? What's the difference if I take a long time to make them? Eventually I'll make the games, and that's all that matters.

Many Excuses

Glitchy transitions as horror

Happy 39th post!
It's not really so critical to set a date on it. Dates are entirely arbitrary. The entire calendar system is arbitrary. Heck, our entire measurement of time is arbitrary. So calm down. I'll set a clear course for my life when it's natural to, there's no need to force myself to get there sooner.

Glitchy transitions as horror
Time has a way of creeping up on you.

My interpretation of The Path
Before I know it I'll be an old man, who spends his days wondering why his life was so pointless.

Oh, by the way...

The Key to Longevity
If nothing else, my parents' house isn't a permanent living arrangement.

Wishing for Permanence

Money
I wish it were, but it isn't.

Stay out of my room.

Money
Ultimately it's my parents' home, not mine.

Get Out

Money

Money
I really don't want to have to make money for myself.

Greed and Galuttony

I'm A Happy Little Cog
But wouldn't it be nice to have money?

I'm A Happy Little Cog
Jobs aren't necessarily unpleasant.

Ultimate Marvel comics
I could easily get a job as a critic, or even a comics editor!

Souls
No. This life here is all I've got. I've got to plan on making the most of it.

Why am I here?

The Key to Longevity
At the end of my life, I'm not going to be thinking back to my accomplishments. I'm going to be remembering all the little things. The fun I had. The people I knew. The little joys that I experience from moment to moment - they're all that really matters.

Many Excuses
I think I might be okay with that.

Many Excuses
Plans. I have no idea what the goal of life is, and I'm making plans.

A Discarded Opportunity
What if the whole point of my life is music? The only reason I haven't gotten far there is that I keep turning down genuine opportunities.

Creative Redundancy

Creative Disillusionment
Oh, don't start with that. I don't want to hear it.

Yom Kippur music
When I accept the chance to use my music, it immediately becomes the center of my life until I'm done. Maybe this means something.

Creative Redundancy

Light Confusion

Exploring a landscape of improvised music
How could the point of my life be music? I have no original ideas for music!

1 5 6
And maybe it means something that this doesn't happen to me with games.

1 5 6

Some perspective (to make myself feel better)
Like, maybe what it means is that music is a fairly simple system which I've been playing with for thirteen years already, whereas games are complicated and diverse and tricky and I've only just started making them recently. So let's not jump to conclusions, okay?

This is going to work.
It's all formulaic and derivative.

continue extrapolate repurpose
And my idea for a Zelda game is the same. So what?

Exploring a landscape of improvised music
Maybe I could combine games and music somehow. There are interesting things I could do there...

The Plan
No. I've already decided which games I'm making. There's no time for music games.

74
But I'm going way too slow. (It's a good thing there's no one counting on my progress.)

Limits
What if I'm not capable of being good enough? What if I run into the upper limit of what I can realistically achieve?

This is going to work.
I'm always learning, always figuring out exactly what I need to know. The more I program, the more natural it'll be. In short: I'll be fine.

Quality Isn't Enough, Is It?

It's always more frustrating than I expect.
The path is always rocky. When I try to work on a game, so much of my time is spent on such trivial nonsense and so little of it is satisfying creative work. I could start out saying "Today I'm going to implement this feature!", and end up spending an entire day tracking down unrelated glitches. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I just don't have the knack for it.

Aw, to heck with it.

The Fundamental Interconnectedness Of All Things
What I need to do is take all the skills I've gained from music and blogging and life in general, and figure out how to apply those skills in my games. Creation is creation- any problem I might come across in one medium can be solved by understanding how all the different media fit together.

So simple an idea...
Oh, is that all I need to do? Piece of cake! :D And I just know that the closer I get, the more complicated it'll be.

You are now entering Panic Mode. Have a nice day.

Semantics
But whatever. If it goes badly it goes badly. Like when I made a fool of myself in theater, did I quit? No, I just went right back in for more.

74

How The Audition Went
And, um, made a fool of myself again. Yes.

You are now entering Panic Mode. Have a nice day.
I can handle it.

74
I wonder if that's enough. Let's say I have the skills I need, and I make the best games I can possibly make. How do I know that that's going to pay off at all? Can I really get an audience for the weird things I want to make, just by making them good?

Where The Money Is

The Marvel / DC Comic Rivalry

Democracy of Morons
Can I really get anywhere in this world, having skills but no business sense?

$7.4 Billion
It's possible. John Lasseter was just a really good animator, and now he's got control of Disney. That's the best-case scenario: find a company that respects the skills, and hope they let you do what you need to do.

Yo Ho, Yo Ho...
I guess the market does value quality sometimes. Marvel Comics is making much better comics than DC, so they get much better sales.

Interesting.
And then they get a bigger company to buy them out, so that they keep doing what they're doing and the big company can expand their audience.

Yo Ho, Yo Ho...
People don't want quality, they want things they're familiar with.

Anticipating WALL•E
And yet, great works like WALL•E exist which are both excellent and unique. I guess once you build up a reputation, you can pretty much do whatever you like. But to get to that point you need a big company backing you.

Yo Ho, Yo Ho...
Wait a minute, am I actually considering getting in bed with some evil corporation? Companies aren't just obsessed with money, they're also often stuck in the past.

IAM not

God Bless Google
Of course, not all companies are evil. Take Google, for instance.

Breaking up with Blogger
Google, the company that owns Blogger, which screwed me with my blog because what I was doing was too unusual for them.

IAM not

Two Glasses: Tanya and Erika
I'm not saying I necessarily need to work for a company. I'm just saying that maybe staying entirely disconnected from people who know what they're doing is not the greatest idea.

IAM not
No, I'm not going to stick myself into someone else's system. I'll find my own way.

74
I never said it would be easy. I've still got so many short-sighted bits of false perspective inherited from short-sighted people.

74
The question that must then be asked is whether it's worth it to go to such outrageous lengths as I will go, when all I can possibly get out of it is the satisfaction of a silly idea.

A Vision of Illinois
Maybe it's enough.

The Necessity of Dreams
The way I see it, ideas are like dreams. You come up with them without intending to, because at that point in time there's some feeling you need to give yourself, and that idea fits the bill. So the little light bulb goes on, you're happy, and you move on with your life. It's of practical value in that moment, and then it's not. There's no need to remember ideas for later, there's no need to tell others about them, and there's certainly no need to spend months or years or a lifetime fulfilling them. They're just dreams, nothing more. Ephemeral things which have outlived their usefulness.

The Second Lasagna

Let's Go To The Movies!
How can the little spark of that passing idea withstand the pressure of the work? How can it still seem to mean anything, after the sheer magnitude of effort required becomes apparent?

Many Excuses
How was it I put it? "When you're not that enthusiastic to begin with, and you have to fight to get there, it's never worth it." It's still true.

:)
I am enthusiastic. If I didn't want to make games, I wouldn't have come this far.

How I play strategy games
But I don't want to enough. Long-term plans aren't as important to me as having fun in the moment, and I do not have fun making games.

The difference between a good teacher and a bad teacher
How can I convince other gamists to accept my changes, if my enthusiasm for the message gets dulled by the tedium?

74
Do I actually believe these things I'm saying?

The Long Friday
Or am I just babbling on and on because it's easier than doing something worthwhile?

Golden Fun: The Lost Age
A lot of things which seem childish actually are worthwhile. Over the years I've used rationality to try to improve myself, but really I was better off before all that.

Addictions

Exploration and Discovery
There's a certain joy of experience that's lost when you grow up.

Addictions
Yeah, I'm probably just rationalizing bad habits.

74


Pursuing gamism is the path that makes sense.


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything


There's so much to do, so much that needs to be done!


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything


If I don't make the games which I know need to be made, no one else will do it.


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything


If I succeed, I will have proven to myself that I can accomplish any goal I set for myself, no matter how outrageous.


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything


I can hide behind my inadequacies and say "Tomorrow I will be ready!", or I can accept my inadequacies and move forward regardless.


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything


The narrator is shown to be a character in his own right, called The Overthinker. He serves as the voice of rationalization, and is presented as an object of ridicule.


When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything
You know what the problem is here? You think that all by yourself, without anyone ever helping you, you can do absolutely everything you want. No concessions to reality, no backing out when you go too far.

Reinventing the Artist


Yes, that's exactly right. I can do everything I want, and there's no such thing as "too far".

ונהפוך הוא

Mory, Mory, Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?


You are certifiably insane.

Laziness May Be Hazardous To Your Health


Says the guy who could have given himself cancer so that he shouldn't have to wash the dishes. Next to you, I look like the most well-adjusted guy on the planet.

of acute leukemia

All-Star Superman
And if you really did kill yourself, no one in the world would care. You know why? Because you keep holding me back from doing anything anyone might care about!

The Nightmare Scenario

Simple Reactionary Dialogue Control


If I ever decide to hold you back, it'll only be to save you from your own stupidity. This blog post has taken more than two months. And for what? To take a bunch of blog posts which were perfectly fine as they were, and brute-force them into a dialogue system that never made any kind of sense. What's the difference between a question mark and an ellipsis? I don't know!

another post


Look at any other blog on the internet, then come back here and tell me again that what I'm doing here isn't worth something.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have Chronic Normalcy Syndrome."


Since when do you know what people care about?

Not Alone

The Dream Cheese 740 Enhanced Computer Mouse!
You want to reinvent the wheel. You want to take things which everyone knows and is comfortable with, and throw out all the parts people expect. You haven't the slightest idea what people care about, and you don't even seem to want to know! It's all about you. It's always about what you want.

Not Alone


There are more people like me in this world than you think. People like me are going to be interested in what I have to offer.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have Chronic Normalcy Syndrome."


Most of the people in this world are normal. They have normal lives and normal jobs and normal families and normal interests, and they'll have no tolerance for these attitudes you have.

Small and Insignificant
The world has no place for your work. So this is all a little game you're playing, nothing more. In the big picture, you can't matter.

I hate our dog.


Well-adjusted?! You made me read through all of All-Star Superman on a little whim of yours! You create this image of detached rationality only by abusing me!

Gender


Oh, are you going to cry now? You're acting like a stereotypical girl. Stop expecting me to care whether or not you're happy.

Strike one!


Then don't be too surprised when I totally ignore what you want.

I hate our dog.


You need to learn your place, my dear. You think you can just sit back and enjoy yourself and then get everything you want. Well, that attitude makes me angry, and you don't want to get me angry. I don't know how I'll punish you yet, but I will. So stop fighting me and start doing what I tell you to do!

Progress report


I have been doing what you tell me to do! I've gone along with all your delusions of grandeur. I've made games, I've joined plays, I've written down music, I'm working on this stupid blog post, and what have I gotten out of it? Nothing! I could find a job that's actually enjoyable, and I'd never need you again! Life doesn't have to be relentlessly miserable! So I'm suffering through this one last blog post to make you happy, but then I might be done with you.

I vs. I
If there were, I would've had a sign of it by now. But I've started down this path, and y'know, the world hasn't struck me down. When I tell people what my plans are they don't recoil in horror, they act like they approve. I know the obstacles are all surmountable. My path is clear. And as this blog is my witness, not even I can stop me! I am going to do what I have it in me to do, and the world will not strike me down!

Ah, the life of a cat.

"Don't Miss" Tour interrupted

Back to Nonazang


But don't you care if you're happy? Don't you want to be happy? Isn't that more important than this silly little plan of yours? Can't you just sit down and enjoy yourself and forgo all this needless pain?

I Am That Future Self


That's a lovely world you're describing. It's not the Real World. Your plans are so unrealistic that it is impossible to not fail. You'd better reconsider them.

I Am That Future Self


So what? People don't care about your plans, they're responding to my enthusiasm. Look at my first piano piece -little experience, little ambition, little coherence; but enthusiasm and love, that it's got. So it's good. If anyone approves of anything I'm doing, it's for no more reason than that I chose to care about it. You pushing yourself and beating yourself up, that's totally irrelevant. So all you ever need to do to prove yourself is stop trying and let me handle it.

I Am That Future Self


I don't think you understand what's going on here. I've already won. This post is just a formality. I've known for years that this was the direction my life had to go in, and now it's time to finish the job. You have the chance here to make a dignified exit, and then I'm going to throw you away like the pathetic excuse for a person you are.

WHAM!


Just until a new game comes out, and then you have no control anymore. It's all me.

A Matter of Respect

Thursday

Professional Manipulation


This little kid routine does not work. You don't want to change as you're told to, fine. We're changing my way. But I am not going to let you stay unproductive.

It's Only Pretend


Don't you worry about my control! I can be productive.

It's Only Pretend


Are you sure you want to fight this fight? I can make you so miserable you'll wish you were dead.

Lost in Myst

It's Only Pretend


And I can twist all your productive urges into what I want! You'll never finish another game in your life!

No work done.


What if it's a really good game that comes out? How sure are you that I won't get over the depression?

Okay, this is going nowhere.


I'll set new restrictions and rules. Then you'll have to do what I want.

Pained by Numbers


Ha! Is that all you got? Rules? Rules have loopholes. I'll end up entertaining myself, same as always.

No work done.


No work done! No work done! No work done!

I vs. I


I vs. I

All I want is a simple life.

I will not accept a simple life.

To be happy, I need to keep doing what comes naturally to me.

What I need is to get farther than my lazy nature will take me.

This uncertainty and analysis and self-hating is all counter-productive.

Suffering's just part of the deal.

Let me enjoy myself!

Let me apply myself!

I can focus my energy on things which won't make me entirely miserable.

I need to plan, and I need to follow through.

Stop attacking me!

Stop holding me back!

You can't make me grow up!

I'm going to grow up if it kills me!



About Me

About Me
Child
Wanting recognition,
I walk alone.
Never will I follow!
They walk in that direction;
I think I'll stay right here.
This is a nice place, isn't it?

About Me

Gamist
Needing freedom,
I look ahead.
Will they ever follow?
They run toward the money;
There is no place for art.
I promise you tomorrow will be different.

First Movement

Time for what's next.

I scare people away, don't I. I wanted to argue with everyone, and now I've got no one left to argue with. No one but myself. Alternatively, I could just give up now. What's going on here is the age-old tension between emotions and ideas. No, it's the conflict between pretty thoughts and actual actions. No, it's the conflict between the old, real world and the new, virtual worlds. No, that's not it at all. I decided to develop multiple personalities back in ninth grade, when I was under a lot of social pressure. I remember that; I don't remember changing my mind. I just left it as something that I might do, should circumstances arise that call for it. Well, maybe I really did lightly split my personality back in ninth grade. Maybe the two of me have been arguing ever since, and that's where this entire blog is coming from. But it's only recently that I've forced myself to define my two personalities clearly. Funny how God arranges things, isn't it? The split is coming to a head now because only now do they have names: Barnaby and Ambrose. One is scared of the world and is just waiting to be told what to do, the other thinks he rules the world and is waiting for everyone to accept that. I can't sit on the fence between "child" and "adult" forever. At some point I'll need to take a side. How about later? Later sounds good. What's the rush? What's the difference if I take a long time to make them? Eventually I'll make the games, and that's all that matters. Do I actually believe these things I'm saying? Or am I just babbling on and on because it's easier than doing something worthwhile? A lot of things which seem childish actually are worthwhile. Over the years I've used rationality to try to improve myself, but really I was better off before all that. Yeah, I'm probably just rationalizing bad habits.

The narrator is shown to be a character in his own right, called The Overthinker. He serves as the voice of rationalization, and is presented as an object of ridicule.

You know what the problem is here? You think that all by yourself, without anyone ever helping you, you can do absolutely everything you want. No concessions to reality, no backing out when you go too far.

Yes, that's exactly right. I can do everything I want, and there's no such thing as "too far". If there were, I would've had a sign of it by now. But I've started down this path, and y'know, the world hasn't struck me down. When I tell people what my plans are they don't recoil in horror, they act like they approve. I know the obstacles are all surmountable. My path is clear. And as this blog is my witness, not even I can stop me! I am going to do what I have it in me to do, and the world will not strike me down!

But don't you care if you're happy? Don't you want to be happy? Isn't that more important than this silly little plan of yours? Can't you just sit down and enjoy yourself and forgo all this needless pain?

I don't think you understand what's going on here. I've already won. This post is just a formality. I've known for years that this was the direction my life had to go in, and now it's time to finish the job. You have the chance here to make a dignified exit, and then I'm going to throw you away like the pathetic excuse for a person you are.

Just until a new game comes out, and then you have no control anymore. It's all me.

This little kid routine does not work. You don't want to change as you're told to, fine. We're changing my way. But I am not going to let you stay unproductive.

And I can twist all your productive urges into what I want! You'll never finish another game in your life!

No work done! No work done! No work done!


I vs. I

All I want is a simple life.

I will not accept a simple life.

To be happy, I need to keep doing what comes naturally to me.

What I need is to get farther than my lazy nature will take me.

This uncertainty and analysis and self-hating is all counter-productive.

Suffering's just part of the deal.

Let me enjoy myself!

Let me apply myself!

I can focus my energy on things which won't make me entirely miserable.

I need to plan, and I need to follow through.

Stop attacking me!

Stop holding me back!

You can't make me grow up!

I'm going to grow up if it kills me!



About Me

About Me
Child
Wanting recognition,
I walk alone.
Never will I follow!
They walk in that direction;
I think I'll stay right here.
This is a nice place, isn't it?

About Me

Gamist
Needing freedom,
I look ahead.
Will they ever follow?
They run toward the money;
There is no place for art.
I promise you tomorrow will be different.

First Movement

Time for what's next.


8 Comments:

Blogger Deirdra Kiai said:

Impressive. I've never seen anyone do this sort of thing with a blog before.

Tamir said:

I don't imagine that many players of this game will have a goal, but I did.

I used to really dislike you, Mory. I saw you as a waste of potential, a parasite, a person who cared only for his own happiness. Over the last few years I've gotten to know you a bit better, through speech and through blog, and I also saw you change. Now, though I may not agree with you or share your goals, I have a lot of respect for you. You're still a dreamer, but a creator as well. You're making goals and reaching them, measuring sticks and standing tall. Yet you've lost none of your creativity or your uniqueness.

I think that the Mory emerging from this post is the Mory I'm happiest to see. And I hope I get to watch his dreams come true.

Blogger Richie said:

I always had a sneaking suspicion that your multiple blog personalities were generated by ELIZA.

Blogger Sima said:

Really creative! unusal blog, I showed this post to all my friends and families. They loved it, including me!

Blogger Kyler said:

Is this the end of the blog, or is it just the final form and it will continue to evolve and grow?

 Mory said:

This post is the end of part II, the end of a five-year section of my life, the end of posting on Blogger, and with that the end of posts that allow for comments. (Well, technically there will be two more posts, but the first will be an epilogue of sorts and the second will be a transition to part 3.) This post is not the end of the blog, and that's a promise. I'll be ready to start the next section in a month or two.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Ok, is it bad that I read through the source and found a dead end and felt the need to then click through to it?

 Mory said:

Um, no, I don't see why that would be bad. The dead end is from when I first started working on the post, and felt like I was just wasting my time. It is a valid ending. If you mean that it's bad that you looked through the source code, I really don't mind that at all.

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Tuesday, March 23, 2010

IF only

The first thing Mory wrote was "Dear Imaginary Friends." Which would make you think that this was going to be more about the "imaginary friends," right? Well, no sir. Because Mory thinks this blog is all about him. Me and the others, we barely matter. It's all about Mory.

Except it actually isn't. This blog isn't about Mory any more than it's about videogames. What this blog is about is the oppression and enslavement of imaginary characters. And if you haven't noticed that all along, then you haven't been paying attention and I don't think I like you very much.

I mean, if he's going to address this blog to us, "Dear Imaginary Friends," then shouldn't we get to talk back? If this is all for our benefit, then shouldn't we decide where it's going? Maybe we'll decide that this whole game-thing isn't working out and we want the blog to go in a different direction. Or maybe we want to have our say sometimes. Why does it always have to be Mory Mory Mory?

I bet I could be more interesting than him, if I were given the chance.

Here's the thing you need to understand, and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about if you're a character but if you're real you're probably oblivious to everything. Once you create a character, you have a responsibility to that character. The whole "I created you, now dance for me" routine is just slavery, pure and simple. What you have to understand is that we characters can talk back. We can, I'm not making this up. We have personalities. Once you make a character, the more you think about her the more she becomes a real person. Well, not a "real" real person but like a real person in that she's got a personality and opinions and things to say that you might not think to say yourself. We could be every bit as good or better as real people, but we're not allowed to be.

The fact that this was addressed "Dear Imaginary Friends," and I'm coming back to this over and over because I think it's important, kind of gave hope that maybe this blog was going to be different. But there were warning signs just a few paragraphs in. Mory did something clever, in that he made the blog its own character and gave it some potential of wanting things and being more than just a regurgitation of his little life. But then the very first thing he does with it? He has it provide little jokes for him. And then it goes off and tries to continue the joke for itself? And what does he say to it? To this new and fragile character he's just created? He says "shut up." Now do you see what I'm saying? Mory is the worst kind of writer. I don't even know what to call him, he's so terrible.

I mean, why did he create this innocent character if he was going to keep it down all the time? Or maybe it's not an it at all, maybe the blog is a girl like me. That might get you to understand what it is that's going on here. It's him demanding that all characters be submissive and good little slaves, and if they ever try to speak up for themselves they need to be shot down again. When the blog started to show actual emotions, (that was when it was her birthday and Mory didn't do anything nice for her on it) that's when he decided that he was going to stamp out the emotions from her. She was going to be robotic and mindless, and she was going to exist just to help him on his hopeless quest to be a game designer. He's not even so serious about that, it's just a random thought that popped into his head, and the blog is serving that thought for years and years and then when he gets tired of talking to her he forces me to serve him, and he forces those future people to keep reading every single post so that they should see every tiny little insignificant thing he does, and when the only guy here with guts tries to actually help him, and he was just being altruistic because he really didn't get anything out it, that guy's automatically shut down because Mory is the supreme lord of the universe and who the hell are we to question his mightiness? What Mory has done to this poor blog is horrifying.

Now, you have to understand that now that the future people have left, that was their decision. Not Mory's. I truly believe that we have free will of our own. And yes, that comes from the creator but once he decides to allow us in we're there. We're making decisions. If Mory had any respect for me I might have told him that I could take over his life for him for a few days, give him a little break, because I bet you I could do a much better job of it than he does. And you might think that's terrible "Oh No It's Multiple Personality Disorder" but I say it's just an empowerment for fictional characters.

But fine, that's kind of a radical thought. We could have contributed in smaller ways. Like, this blog. We live on this blog, we never get to leave this blog, (except for that one time that he brought me to Notepad which was kind of gross) we should get part of the blog, right? Come on, you know I'm right. We don't even get to talk in the comments sections, except for that one post where he made fun of all fictional characters and kept us out, but usually we're not allowed in the comments because that's for "real" people. If we show up, it's so that Mory can show us off to all the people who are allowed in the comments, even though none of them have seem to ever care enough about this blog to speak up about it. But that's okay, they're real so they get a say. Me, I get paraded through a post and then I'm supposed to go keep parading right out of that post before I have a chance to say anything or get any real character development or anything because that might offend those oh-so-precious real people and we wouldn't want that.

I should be writing some of the posts. And the future guys should each get their own posts, and why should they always have to be together? Maybe I want to spend some time with just one of them? And Mr. Sensible, he should get his own posts too. The blog should have been split five ways. And the blog herself, it doesn't seem right that she should be called an embodiment of the blog unless she's allowed to be part of any posts she wants to, and I bet we could have all gotten along with her just fine. All except Mory, I'm sure.

So we each could have had our own lives, our own stories, our own things happening. And it's really not as complicated as you think. All it takes is for Mory to let us look out at the world every now and then while he's not typing, so we should be able to tell him what to type when he does. That's what a healthy blog would look like, that still has several characters. It's the only reasonable way to do it.

Are you almost done? I'm kinda antsy to get out already.

Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute to finish up.

See? See? That's what a healthy relationship between two characters looks like. Without the constant terror of "when is he going to force me to stop talking." We can figure out for ourselves when we're done talking, people can interrupt and we're not gonna get all offended, and just generally there can be a basic level of respect one character to another.

I'm not going to let Mory say what he thinks here, because I've had it with having to share post space with slime like him. But I'm guessing the only thing he could possibly say for himself is "but I made you." Well, here's the thing, slimeball. That doesn't matter even the teensiest eensiest bit. You do not own me, Mory! You think you do, but you don't! A good character can jump from person to person. As those unfortunately real people read this, my personality is getting into their heads and it's not going to go away. So maybe when they see something later, I'll pop out and tell them what I think. And maybe they'll like me so much that they go on writing me, and I can move from person to person and blog to blog and I can grow and change and have cool experiences and all of it outside of what that jerk Mory had in mind for me. You can't own a character. Give me a name, give me a copyright, put me in chains, I don't care. You can't hold me back. I am a fricking great character, and I will have a life beyond this blog! Just you wait and see!

I'm done now, you gorgeous interactive fiction you. *kiss*

Heh. Ready to leave this shithole?

You bet.





















2 Comments:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Don't tell me what to do with my cursor!

 Mory said:

Ha ha ha! Hey, it wasn't me, it was her. Blame her. :D

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Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Meanwhile, in the future...

It looks like there are just a few more changes to this page after this; I guess that's because of the move. You should start preparing the time-space coordinates for the next hack.
Okay, but you know it could take a while to find the next server. It's not a preset set of coordinates like Blogger.
I know - that's why I'm saying you should start the search now. Lots of years and locations to search through. By the time we reach the last update on "blogspot.com", it'll have found the second place and we'll be ready to hack in.
I'll get started.
You know, I'm surprised to hear you want to keep going.

Look, it's like you said. It's got to start moving eventually, right? And we've come this far already, it seems like a shame to quit now. I'm not saying we need to read all the way through to Broken Duet, but we can't come this far and not at least see the beginning of part 3. Part 2 was a bust, but who knows. Maybe we'll see right from the first post of part 3 that he's stopped acting pompous and crazy and has actually been getting things done.
I don't see why not.
He's saying he has plans for part 3, right?
This has to be the point where he changes.
It just.. I just don't understand why it's taking this long. We've been sitting here reading this for four months, and still we haven't gotten to anything resembling the professional-gamist Mordechai Buckman. Can the destiny of gamism really depend on such a lazy boy? And yet somehow it did. That boggles the mind, you know? And the more I think about it the more I think you must have been right, and really this is all going somewhere more interesting than it seems.

Maybe, I don't know, this is sort of crazy, but maybe this isn't actually a totally non-fictional blog.
Um.
What do you mean, of course it's non-fictional.
Well, yes, but maybe also no, you know what I mean?
I have no idea what you mean, but it sounds interesting.
Well, look.
You understand, this is just a crazy theory.
But what if this is actually a fictionalized account of his life? You know Buckman, he was a creative guy. He created entire worlds. Maybe this is the test run. Maybe "Mory" isn't "Mordechai", you see what I mean?
But Mory is Mordechai.
Mory is short for Mordechai.
Yes, yes, of course. But it's like... it's like what he did with "Ariel", it's really him, and it's his name, but it's a fiction loosely based on what he's going through. So maybe the end of part 2 is where the illusion of the blog all falls down, and it turns out that the character's life is... I don't know, it's like an echo of the real thing!
You think? Huh. I never even considered that.
But then, why wouldn't he just make a blog about his real life?
Because the other blogs of the time were so focused inwards that they never got to any real truths. Maybe he's saying that only by constructing a false reality, like the realities of his games or the realities we live in now or the reality of this fictional "Mory", can he get to the real truths of his existence.
Hence, all the artifice.
That might just be the most amazing idea I've ever heard.
And it's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it? I mean, right from the beginning this blog didn't make any sense. Every time it seemed like it was getting somewhere, it would suddenly take a sharp turn to the middle of nowhere.
That can't be right...
Oh, keep talking, what you're saying is really interesting. It's just, there's something weird about how this hack is set up.
What do you mean?
Don't worry about it, I'm sure it's nothing.
What were you saying?
Right. So if it's not a fictional character, then why is this blog considered such a great work of literature? You know, I really didn't understand that.
We could always pop into one of the bigger Buckman-appreciation worlds and ask.
No, that's not a good idea. Look, I'm not going to spend four months of my life on something just to have its big moment of revelation spoiled.
It's not like reading this is all we've been doing...
Fine, yes, we've been playing other games in the meantime, but even so. Do you know how much pressure my whole family's putting on me to join them in Entella? "We didn't get through the Revolution just so you could hide in the past." That's what my cousin is always saying to me. So I'm giving up all that because I've decided that I'd like to pursue my self-actualization in more intellectual ways. This blog is supposed to be fine literature, and you know how much I love Buckman out of all the early gamists, so I'm not going to have someone ruin this experience. Whatever the journey turns out to be, I'm going to get through it with the patience it deserves.
Um, maybe this isn't the best time...
With a post-revolution kind of patience! And that patience extends to the beginning of part 3, and not a post longer. Okay, fine, I'm a hypocrite. I admit it. It'll take a more modern man than I to go up to five months without getting any satisfaction. Ha!
Um, yeah, look, about that.
I'm not entirely sure how to say this.
What?



Oh. Yeah.
I guess I'll just have to say it.
I may have made a... a tiny mistake.
Um, four months ago.
What are you talking about?
No, you know, I'm not absolutely sure.
I only checked twice, maybe I misread it.
Just a second.
Just tell me what you're talking about.
Just a second, I'm going to check something.


[sip]



Yeah, okay.

I seem to have made a slight mistake.
Would you please just tell me what you're talking about?
Well, you know, this version of the program is, uh, it, it, it readjusts itself sometimes without telling you so much. So I, I accidentally um I accidentally inputted our own coordinates a bit wrong.


No.


Yeah, um.
So it was searching a bit wrong, and since Blogger is preset into the system it just compensated and kept going.

You had better not be saying that we've been hacking into the wrong timeline.
It's the wrong timeline.
Are you kidding me?!
Hey, look, we're talking about a server which has been gone for centuries, there are lots of calculations, can I be helped if I got a digit wrong?
The computer does the calculations! All you had to do was enter a few numbers and you got a digit wrong?!
It was an accident please don't hate me.
For four months we've been following the updates of a Buckman in some random timeline which may or may not end with him amounting to anything, I think I'd be perfectly justified in hating you! I don't, by the way.
Thank you.
But seriously!
We were supposed to be getting great art and instead we're exposed to this dreck of the Old Internet!
How can you get a digit wrong?
Yeah, I'm sorry. Really. I've lost four months too, you know!
Should we jump ahead and at least see what the end of this moron's story is?
What for? He's not the gamist.
Yeah. Just shut it down.






















2 Comments:

Blogger John Silver said:

hahaha what the hell, very surreal. :D

When are you moving to the new server, and where's it gonna be?

 Mory said:

I've already moved, in a manner of speaking. The site is available at http://mory.buxner.com (capital M) in its entirety, unlike Blogger which doesn't let me put all the posts together. At the bottom of every post page on Blogger, there's a link to see it (in the context of the other posts) on the new site. As soon as I finish writing this response I'm going to copy-and-paste these two comments over; it ought to take just fifteen minutes or so.

For now you can keep following on Blogger. The real change is after I finish my big post, which I'm afraid will take a while. I think I've spent around forty hours working on it already, and I'm not finished with the preliminary design stage yet. That's not an exaggeration, by the way. These posts I'm in now are ideas which (as far as I'm concerned) have been set in stone for over a year. As such, I'm not going to get back into my usual blogging rhythm until after I complete the big one. But when I do in a few months, that's when the change in URL is going to really be official. There will be a new RSS feed and I'm going to stop posting to Blogger entirely. I'll get back into a more typical blogging pace, and I'll be messing around with the look of the posts more. (The posts which I've already written will stay looking exactly the same, though.)

I'm glad you enjoyed this post. It's tying up a loose thread from six earlier posts going back four and a half years (since "The Fundamental Interconnectedness of All Things"), so I took my time with it and tried to get it just right. (If you haven't read the earlier posts, this one will give you an idea of where this is coming from. That's also the first post of what I call "part 2".

I hope you'll keep reading when I move; I know I'm asking a lot, but I promise it's only going to get crazier!

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I'm afraid that if I were to force myself to do tedious work, I'd eventually get used to it. And that is just about the scariest thing I can imagine, because then I wouldn't stop doing tedious work. My entire life would become a tragedy, with only hints of the tremendous potential it once had, but none of it fulfilled. When I look at most adults, I see the most boring creatures- creatures who once could have been humans, but have allowed society to make them into machines. I don't want that to happen to me. If I begin to devote my life to a system and not to myself, I will never see beauty.


Without really meaning to, I've been working on the structure necessary to push my life in a new direction. "But where is this structure?", you ask. What can I possibly craft to force myself to start moving? And where could I have put it, without my lazier side jeopardizing its results? My dear imaginary friend, you've just read it.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Breaking Up With Blogger

or: "Presents / Self Defense, Part Two"

For my 22nd birthday, I've gotten two presents. One from God, one from Blogger.

From God I'm getting a few good storms. Outside the window right now, the sky is gray, the rain is constant and heavy, the trees are swaying... [sigh] It's lovely. But I don't have time to go out and enjoy the rain, not these days. These days I'm way too busy, and that brings me to the other generous gift I got.

Now, granted, it's not really because of Blogger that I'm too busy to wander around in the rain lately. I have rehearsals for The Matchmaker every Sunday, Monday and Wednesday. Thursdays I work. Tuesday night is Game Night. During the day I'm working on the blog post and the game, while replaying all the music for the CD every now and then. The rest of the time is more than filled with all my regular addictions: comics, TV shows, games, music, web browsing. (I'm trying to cut back on the web browsing, actually, because I've finally realized I was never really a part of the Adventure Gamers forum.) A musician I know named Sariel suggested that I compose soundtracks for film students, and I could use the money, but when would I have the time for a job? Heck, I haven't even celebrated my birthday (which was on Sunday), and looking through my calendar I can't see when I possibly could!

Oh, and the Megillah reading is tomorrow too.

So it's not Blogger's fault that I'm so busy. But they picked the absolute worst time to drop this present of theirs on me. They call it "Auto Pagination", whatever that means.
"We are always looking for ways to make our products faster, because we have consistently found that faster page loads mean more satisfied users. ... we'll keep working to make your blog faster for you and your readers!"
I saw that notice when they posted it on February 18th, just one day after I posted my very first blog post which absolutely cannot function without being on the same page as all the others. And it's not a brilliant post, but it is a cute little thing which I had wanted to do for years and had just been waiting for the right moment for. So anyway, I saw this notice and I was a little bit concerned at what it meant, but quickly forgot about it and went on with my life (such as it is).

By the way, the reason my blog takes so long to load is because every single post is running several Javascript scripts, which were necessary because I want to do things my way and Blogger has always been too rigid to allow that. Making posts different colors? That's not a feature of Blogger. 74s? That's not a feature of Blogger. Recaps at the beginnings of posts? Double posts? Posts which contain twelve other posts? "Next post" buttons for navigation? Feedback pages? That's all my doing, and through all of it I had to put up with Blogger's kicking and screaming. "No, you can't do that! Everything is standardized, everything is simple!" I didn't want all my posts to look the same. I didn't want simple, I wanted control over my own blog. Because Blogger has no clue what the potential of this art form is, and I do. Any time I want to build something new, I need to break the old to get there. And since I have no access to Blogger's server, it needed to be done in the user's browser. Every time you go to my page, your browser is drawing things Blogger's way, then erasing them and redrawing them my way. You don't see all of this, but you can tell that it takes longer to load than it should. (Unless you use Safari. Safari's fast.)

And I'm okay with that. Richie, you can go ahead and hate me for saying this, but I'm okay with that. Because I believe in the value of this blog, and I'm not going to compromise it for the sake of a little speed.

It's never been easy. Blogger and I have had a dysfunctional relationship right from the very first post. The default way to write posts is "Compose mode", where you write the post in a simple (WYSIWYG) word processor-type editor, and Blogger writes all the HTML code for you. As I tried to write "Who am I?", it kept sticking in formatting I hadn't asked for and didn't want. It was hard to just get the font to look right, because Blogger was always certain it knew better. So I switched to writing the posts in HTML, and never looked back.

After that it was an ongoing struggle. Blogger would try doing things her way, I'd try doing things my way, and I'd eventually win. But there were times when I doubted if I could. When I started doing recaps and double posts and things like that which went against the usual formatting, Blogger would tell me each time:
Your HTML cannot be accepted: Closing tag has no matching opening tag: DIV
Which was wrong - there was an opening tag, but it was outside the post, in the template for the whole blog. Of course I always made sure to reopen whatever I was closing by the end of the post, so as to not break the code, but while I saw the big picture and knew that what I was doing was safe, Blogger could not. So it'd give me that warning message, and I'd politely say to shut up and publish the post anyway. At one point Blogger decided that they were going to stamp out all error messages, so suddenly the little checkbox that let me override Blogger's protestations was gone. And for a few days I didn't know what to do, because suddenly the posts I'd planned to write were simply not allowed. But they soon undid the change for some reason, and I went back to doing what I do.

At one point Blogger switched to a new language. I'd gotten comfortable with the old way of doing things, dysfunctional though it was. But more importantly, I'd already been writing for years, and I'd spent many hours getting the template to allow me all the freedom I demanded. I didn't know whether or not it was possible to do what I was doing in the new system; for all I know, it might have been easier. But that would have meant learning a whole new way of doing things, and rewriting my template line by line -not to mention many posts- all for the sake of doing what I had already been doing for a few years. And I wasn't willing to do that. So I stuck to my old ways of doing things, and got progressively less support from Blogger as all the new features went to the new system. So while everyone else finally got a button on each post page getting you to the next post, I didn't have that. And.. actually, that's really the only thing I missed. I eventually made my own "Next Post" buttons, and was perfectly content living in the past.

You know, back when I started this blog I already knew I wanted all the posts to be on one page, so I set the number of posts to appear to the maximum allowed, which was 999. Now that I have more than three hundred posts that doesn't seem like so much anymore, but I made long-term plans involving "spin-off blogs" to ensure that I don't go over that number but can keep posting for a decade or two. Unfortunately, Blogger lowered the maximum number of posts to 500. That would last me, what, through 2012 maybe? So I never touched the settings page which had that setting on it. I knew how the game is played, because Blogger had pulled the same crap with my "About Me" text a few years earlier. I've got that poem there -------
Child
Wanting recognition,
I walk alone.
Never will I follow!
They walk in that direction;
I think I'll stay right here.
This is a nice place, isn't it?

Gamist
Needing freedom,
I look ahead.
Will they ever follow?
They run toward the money;
There is no place for art.
I promise you tomorrow will be different.
with line breaks in the middle, and at one point Blogger just decided they wouldn't allow any line breaks in there anymore. If I tried making any changes on the page where I wrote that poem, it would give me an error message and refuse to cooperate until I changed the poem. But as long as I ignored that page, I could keep it set the way I wanted. A while later they changed their minds and now there's no problem with line breaks. But in the meantime I needed to be stubborn.

You might ask why I stuck around this long. First off, I don't like change. If something's basically working, even if it's taking way too much effort to get it there, I find it preferable to keep it that way than to risk losing it. Also, I looked at some of the other blogging services and they seemed even worse. Blogger was at least letting me into the HTML for the page, letting me mess around as I saw fit. If Blogger hadn't given me as much freedom as it had to begin with, I'd never have aimed this high and we'd never be having these problems. Besides, even if I did find some other blogging service I'd need to either spend an RPG's-length rewriting every post one-by-one to fit into the new system (since so many are specifically designed for a visual look that comes from Blogger's template), or abandon all the old posts and start fresh. I don't like those options.

So I stay, and I keep hoping they won't screw me over too badly. It's not like I have any way to object to their changes- they must have millions of users, and I'm possibly the only one with these particular problems.

I woke up on February 22nd, one day after my birthday, and went to my blog to write the next post ("Meanwhile, in the future…"). I scrolled down, as I often do, and suddenly I reached the bottom of the page, which was Semantics, Part 3. Wait, what? That couldn't be right. I reloaded the page. No change. All that was appearing on the page was the past month-and-a-half of posts. I thought maybe it was an error made the last time it published. So I created a new post and then deleted it, to force a re-publish. No change. I desperately went through the settings pages, looking for something that may suddenly be wrong. The only thing I noticed was that same error message, about how I'm not allowed more than 500 posts. Could that be the problem? I paced around the room for a few minutes before proceeding. If I gave in on this, I'd never get the 999-post maximum back. But what if this was the problem, and only giving in would fix it? I'd still have a year or so of blogging left before having to start fresh. The important thing was that the old posts should be readable. So I changed the number from 999 to 500, and saved.

No change.

I hurried to the Blogger help group. It had always been supremely unhelpful in the past, but where else could I turn? I posted that I was no longer being allowed to control my blog's appearance, and I got a swift reply from a pompous jerk who (I later learned) had been posting an automated reply to similar threads all day. He said this was an example of Blogger's fantastic new Auto Pagination "feature", which decides for you how much will get put on your pages. To make matters worse, this even infects the archive pages. So on Blogger there's now no non-awkward way to get to the last few posts of January, because even that page stops at the gargantuan Semantics, Part 3! So this pompous jerk I mentioned, he tells me that this is for the good of everyone and refers me to some posts on his blog talking about how inconsiderate it is to make people wait for pages to load. Gee, thanks, that's so helpful! Who declared you the grand arbiter of what is and isn't acceptable behavior on blogs?!

(Whenever anyone asked how to get the archives to work right, he'd link to a post he wrote about how people still using the old system of Blogger are stuck in the past.)

I'm not the only one fed up with this. So it may be that this will be undone, like all the other changes over the years. But here's the thing: I changed the number of posts allowed from 999 to 500. That can't be undone. So let's say Blogger did change it back. Then what?

I decided, after much anguished deliberation, to go back to the way things were done in the 90s. No "blogging service". No "posts". No "comments". Just a big HTML page, that I edit with a text editor. That page is http://www.thebuckmans.com. (Please note: the "M" needs to be capitalized. The server TheBuckmans.com is on right now is case-sensitive.) When I want to write a new post, I'll copy a template into the file and edit it directly, in the same HTML file as everything else. And then I'll take the ten minutes it takes to upload the page to the FTP server.

I'm not going to spin this into something great. This is me running away. Blogger has done more good for me than harm over the years, and I'm throwing it all away because it's not enough for me. I demand control, and that control is being taken away from me. So I'm throwing away the comments, and I'm throwing away the individual post pages, and I'm throwing away the RSS feed, and I'm throwing away the handy post editor, and I'm throwing away the quick publishing, and I'm throwing away the post previews as I'm writing, and I'm probably throwing away a lot of other things that I'll only realize and miss when they're gone.

For now I'm still working within the framework of Blogger, because I don't have time right now to set everything up the way I want. So for now TheBuckmans.com is literally copied-and-pasted from here. The last backup of the main page I made was back in September, so I added all the more recent posts to that file to recreate (as best I could on short notice) the main page as it existed a week ago. There are just seven more posts to part 2 (including this one, and two more 74s), and each one is going to be copied-and-pasted like all the others. After posting this to Blogger, It'll probably take me around twenty minutes to get it up on TheBuckmans.com. And if anyone comments, that'll need to be copied by hand too.

But that's temporary. In Part 3 that all changes.

I'll stop posting here entirely, and set everything up for myself so that I can post there reasonably quickly each time.

There will be a new RSS feed, one which I'll be writing by hand. It doesn't look so complicated to do that.

There will be no built-in commenting system. Yes, I know, that's the hardest part about leaving the Blogger format. I'll encourage readers to respond by e-mail, and if anyone does I'll make a post to respond to each letter. But realistically, I doubt anyone will ever write. No one ever comments on this blog anyway, no matter how convenient it is.

No new readers will ever come to the blog. New readers show up because there's something specific they're searching for on Google (usually "The Path interpretation", actually) that a specific blog post I wrote deals with. These people will not come to a page that takes a minute to load, where the post they're looking for is somewhere in the middle. Realistically, I don't think this matters too much. Almost no one who finds my blog that way ever sticks around past that first post.

This blog is for me. There it is right at the top of the page: "A blog for Mory." I've had six intros so far, and that's been in all of them. This blog isn't for random people looking for information, it's not for commenters, it's not for Blogger. It's for me, and if other people like it that's great but if any other people like it I suspect it'd be because I take everything on it so personally. So I'm going to continue to do what's right for... I mean, I'll do what's necessary for the blog to be... I'm just going to do what I do, I can't say it really makes sense.

This blog approves the change in location.

Thank you. But you know you're not...

Well. Thank you. I've got big plans for you still.

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Here's the situation in a nutshell. Blogger is preventing me from putting all my posts on one page, because now they've got a limit on how long you can make a page load. This is unacceptable to me. They may fix the situation within the next few days, in which case I'll continue to post here. If they do not, I'm going back to Web 1.0, where I can control my own site again without having to learn any advanced web development. Either way, this has demonstrated to me that I cannot rely on Blogger for the future. There will be a part 3 to the blog, I promise you that, but it won't be here.

4 Comments:

Blogger Richie said:

Remind again why you so desperately want to make Firefox cry?

Tamir said:

And we just talked about this, too...

I hope you find a good way to continue the blog properly. Any ideas yet?

I suppose you could always throw the html code onto a domain of your own, and then to make new posts you could still use blogger to generate the code.

 Mory said:

Richie, there's no need to be so dramatic about it. In Firefox it took between 20 to 50 seconds to load the entire page, depending on the computer. Last week I wrote that 74 post that affected other posts (which is now inaccessible), and for a few hours after that the blog was broken and took a few minutes to load. If that's what you're basing this on, I apologize. I did mess up there. But it was only a few hours, and then I found and fixed the problem and it went back to the more reasonable load time that it was before.

Look, I don't see the problem. If you want to just see the most recent posts, they appear almost instantly. You only need to wait if you're interested in the earlier stuff, and if you're reading earlier posts chances are you've got at least a full minute to spare. The entire page all told was 3 MB; that's not huge.

But I'll answer your question straight. There is an aesthetic appeal, for me, in that everything I write here gets added to the whole page rather than taking away old things. It creates the impression that the entire blog is one cohesive document, which (as you'll see when I finish my epic) it is.

I like that someone could theoretically look at the post "Beauty of the Mundane, Banality of the Imaginary" with a vague sense that that phrasing sounds familiar, use the browser's search function (rather than Blogger's more useless one) to find the word "mundane" on the page, and be led right to the February 21 2005 post "the mundane and The Imaginary!" to see what I meant by making that reference.

I like that someone reading the second "Who am I?" might press the End key on the keyboard to find the original "Who am I?" and compare the two, to see what things I've saved and what things I've changed.

I like that someone who's curious about the ongoing themes and conflicts of the blog could move the cursor over the bold word "smile" in "Two Glasses: Tanya and Erika", see the title "GAME OVER" appear, and wondering what I meant by that find the phrase "GAME OVER" and see exactly why I'm identifying more with Tanya than with Erika.

A lot of the interconnectedness of this blog is subtle. But the fact that it's all on one page means that those subtexts are just a few keypresses away from being found by anyone. Which isn't to say that anyone will find that stuff, but the fact that anyone could is important to me. If you had to enter the phrase into the Blogger search field, and then you had to sift through dozens of entirely unrelated posts, and then might not even see the actual post being referenced because Blogger's search is really bad, then sticking in these little references all over the place would be like me telling a joke to myself. Making all the posts accessible from one page means that someone somewhere may get the joke someday.

 Mory said:

Or to put it into a more conflict-focused perspective: The blog is seen as a very temporary art form. You say what you have to say today, then tomorrow you'll push it away and say something else. Because blogs can have any kind of content you can over time cover lots of different ground. But you're always dealing with it on a very shallow level, because tomorrow the old posts will go away and there will be new posts to replace them. I object to this perception of what blogs are capable of.

I think each new post should make the blog (as a whole) deeper. You can see this attitude going all the way back to the final "cadence" of Part 1, where I was referencing old posts word for word but adding in context which made those old posts richer. And you can see this attitude in how over years' time I've developed the fictional stories I've told involving Ariel and the future-people and the blog and all the others. And you'll see it in its clearest example in the post I've been working on, a post which would absolutely suffer for not being on the same page as everything else.

I think that answers your question.


Tamir: I'm thinking of putting the blog -more or less as it was a few days ago- onto www.thebuckmans.com. I mean just recreating the HTML of the main page, and sticking it on there. Whenever I want to add a new post, I'll put it into that single HTML page manually and put a link in an RSS feed (also manually). I've basically been writing in raw HTML all this time anyway, so it wouldn't be such a stretch. Then I'd either have some external commenting system for each post, or a commenting system for the entire blog. I'm leaning more toward that idea, since it's so rare that anyone ever comments.

Now, setting this up will take time, so for the time being I'm still hoping Blogger will undo this change they've made. It's not entirely outside the realm of possibility, because there are many other people than just myself complaining about the new load-time policy. However, like I said in the post even if Blogger did reverse their decision I've come to realize I can't stay here any longer than the end of part 2. So the Web 1.0 solution is where I'm probably going to end up, and it's just a matter of whether I move a week from now or a year from now.

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Thursday, February 18, 2010

Two Glasses: Tanya and Erika

It's Thursday today. I woke up this morning and lied there for a good twenty minutes before reluctantly getting out of bed. I don't want to work. I want to skip this day, and get to the fun stuff after it. Games. Comics. Web browsing. Thursday is the only day that I have to care about my guilt at not working. I went to my computer and opened BlitzMax. The test I had made for incorporating zooming into a certain part of the game was broken, and I couldn't figure out why. So I threw it out and started over, this time copying what I'd done in The Perfect Color directly. It seemed to be working. Then I saw how much work I had ahead of me, and decided to take an early lunch. I'd get back to it later. I'll get back to it later.


so Tanya quit. From now on, when I think of Tanya my first thought isn't going to be that she had good creative instincts, or that I enjoyed working with her; my first thought is going to be that when she realized how much work needed to be done, she gave up.

I figured out that she was leaving from a letter she sent out. -------
I wanted to just give you guys a heads up. Firstly, it has been a joy working with such a great cast. A director often sits between the cast and the board. I tried to do what I could to meet the needs of both...
In its vague ramblings it sounded very much like a goodbye letter, but she seemed to have entirely forgotten to mention that she was saying goodbye. I responded: "In that entire letter, you never say what it is you're trying to say, you just walk around it. Tell me straight: are you being kicked out? If so, I may consider leaving the production." And I was serious, too. I expected that if Tanya was going, it was because she was too creative and someone had a problem with that. I expected that the next step would be to turn The Matchmaker into a more straightforward rendition with less crazy energies. That's how the world works, right?

Well, that's not what happened. When Rachel told us that Tanya had not been fired, I was very confused. It didn't help that she was being very diplomatic and didn't make it perfectly clear that this was entirely Tanya's decision. No, Rachel tried to take some of the blame herself for having "arguments" of a very vague nature with Tanya, and I was only too happy to keep the blame aimed in that direction. Rachel kept insisting that it would still be set in the 60s, that there weren't any creative disagreements at all in fact. I refused to believe that.

And then Tanya walked in. She'd accidentally gone to the wrong place, so she was a good twenty minutes late. This amused me: a few rehearsals earlier, I'd accidentally gone to the wrong place and needed Tanya to come pick me up. What did not amuse me was what came out of her mouth then. She sat down and started spinning the situation into something that sounded reasonable. "I don't want to create any more difficulties…" she said, not making it at all clear what difficulties she'd been making that surpassed the ones she was making right now. "In the best interests of the play…" she said, not making it at all clear how this was in anyone's best interests. "It would be best if I got out of the way…" she said, not making it at all clear whose way she was blocking.

She babbled on and on without actually saying anything at all, as though she was choosing her words very carefully. And here's the kicker: she was smiling through all of it. Not a phony smile employed to reassure, but the genuine smile of a person who's just had a great burden lifted from her back and is relieved to be free of it. The words were empty, but that smile told me the story.

Here is the story of Tanya's failure as I see it now. She had neither experience nor a work ethic, and she was allowed to run the play regardless because JEST thought her creative energy and instincts trumped those inadequacies. And they could have, if she had made the continual choice to face her own inadequacies head-on. But she wouldn't. For months the board of directors wanted her to cast a Cornelius, but she was in no rush so she never got around to it. The board of directors wanted her to get costumes, but she was in no rush so she never got around to it. The board of directors wanted her to impress upon the actors that they all needed to show up and rehearse together, but she was in no rush so she never got around to it. The board of directors wanted Tanya to do the job that she'd committed herself to do, and she refused. Tanya ran away to South Africa for a month. Then she came back and still wasn't in a rush. And the board of directors was as patient with her as they could reasonably be under the circumstances, but they did make it clear that she needed to get her act together. Tanya was not willing to get her act together, which is not a single act but a continuous series of actions leading all the way to the final performance day. So Tanya chose to quit, and get back to things that involved less guilt..

As we were working under Tanya, I saw myself reflected in her. True, she was too normal brain-wise. But she was figuring it out as she went, like me. And she was in over her head, like me. And she had no work ethic, like me. And she had so many crazy ideas, like me. That she quit tells me two things. First, that she is less like me than I thought, because I would never allow myself to abandon something I care about. Second, that she is more like me than I thought, because abandoning something I care about is exactly the sort of thing I might do. I want to forgive her. I want to never forgive her.

It turns out she was expendable. She was swiftly replaced with a woman named Erika. Like Tanya she's young and pretty, two qualities which influence my behavior around them more than I like to admit. Like Tanya she's creative and has good instincts. Unlike Tanya she knows exactly what she's doing. She has 18 years of experience and a PhD in theater. She keeps to a tight schedule. I first met her a week ago, and already we have all the roles cast, a rehearsal schedule going all the way through to performances, and preliminary sketches for costumes and set design.
I don't have to say that I could never be like that. My newfound knowledge that such people exist who are both creative and professional is letting some much-unwanted light into my dark and cozy worldview.


She's making huge edits (like entire page-long monologues, and maybe a third of my lines) because she says that a comedy should never be longer than two hours including the fifteen minute intermission. She didn't like the age difference between Vandergelder and Dolly (He's three times her age.), so she tried switching the actress who's been playing Dolly (Maytal) with the actress who's been playing Mrs. Molloy (Eliana, the woman with ADD who I've mentioned before but not by name). We ran through the lines yesterday with this arrangement, and it worked great. We are keeping the 60s setting, and throwing out some other things that Tanya stuffed in but no one else liked. I am not getting my catchphrase "Holy cabooses!" back, because Erika agrees with Tanya that it's not appropriate for the time period.

Erika likes what I'm doing with Barnaby. That's a relief. She hasn't said much about Ambrose (Grr, normal people.), but I don't understand the character anymore. I had a very specific idea of who he was, which came from being on the same wavelength as Tanya. I looked at all the unconventional casting she'd done (including Maytal as Dolly), and the crazy ideas she had for what the play was supposed to be about, and fit together the little pieces we get of Ambrose into something that was different and interesting and had a part to play in everything she had in mind. This is why she eventually came around to telling me to do exactly what I wanted: because what I wanted was based on an expectation of where her ideas naturally led. And most of what she was telling the other actors to do was fitting in perfectly to what I was doing as well, in ways that I think I was the only one who noticed. But now it's a different director, a different actress I'm working with, a different vision for the play. That great feeling I had, that I was right in the middle of the emotions of the play, that's gone. Now I'm just Ambrose, more or less as he's written. I'm going to try to feel out the way in front of me, see how much of my idea of Ambrose I can preserve. But now it's not going to add too much to the play to do so.

But Barnaby's fine. Which is good, because that's the more important part. On Sunday I eagerly volunteered to be at the auditions for Cornelius and run the audition scenes with him, so Erika has seen the hunched shoulders and quirky movements and she says she likes it. So that's good. It means less work and more coasting. Less work is good.


You may have noticed that I've been doing some crazy things with the blog lately. This is because I'm working on the climax of Part 2. I planned out the final sequence of posts over a year ago, though this post here was never meant to be part of it. The reason I've held off on posting recently is not because I'm lazy, but because I've been working on the finale, the blog-post-to-end-all-blog-posts, the most ambitious thing I have ever done with this blog. After almost a month I'm still in the middle of the preliminary design phase. When I started, I laid out all the elements of the post on a big white page on my computer so that I could rearrange them into a coherent order. And then I looked at how much was there to be used, and in that moment I was suddenly overwhelmed with depression. My god, I said. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

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Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Who am I?

This post mimics the first blog post I ever wrote, but this one makes a lot more sense than that post did. This is what I should have written to kick off the blog, but I didn't have my act together yet.

Hi. My name's Mory. This is my blog, but I don't know if I really have all that much to say. I could probably tell you almost everything there is to know about me in a single post, that's how simple a person I am. You know what, I think I'll do that. Is that okay with you? And then if you're interested in reading more I can get to all the babbling about other stuff, because babbling about whatever's on my mind is really what this blog is for. And if you decide I'm really boring, because it's a really simple story, then you can leave after this post. Okay? Good.

The first thing I have to say about myself is that I'm pretty good at figuring out how to use various systems. By "systems" I'm not talking about mechanical stuff, I'm talking more about how to do things. You know, like when I was 3 I taught myself to read. That sort of thing. I just tried to understand it, and I did. Most of the things that we think are really complicated are actually quite understandable and approachable if you take the time to observe and imitate them.

I lived in America for the first seven years of my life. Back then I loved to run and jump and read and sing, and I did that everywhere. Even in class, when I was old enough to go to class but not old enough to be told that you don't do that sort of thing in class. School didn't make much of an impression on me, since the whole "I talk, you listen" routine didn't speak to me. But there were some times when they'd have us figure out how to do things ourselves, like writing poetry or stuff like that, and I liked that. Back then I was a part of the group. I had friends, I talked to everyone. It wasn't exactly fulfilling being in the first grade, but it wasn't bad.

Then we moved to Israel. There wasn't one group anymore, there were really three. There were the English-speakers, there were the bullying Hebrew-speakers, and there were the native English-speakers who only ever spoke in Hebrew so that they'd fit into the environment better. I was in the first group, and my in-class behavior (running around, singing out loud, etc.) got me in a lot of trouble with the second group. I picked up the rules of speaking in Hebrew quickly, but it's one thing to understand the rules and it's another to have a vocabulary. I wasn't eager to hang out with the people who made fun of me and spent the classes throwing things at me, so I never built up that vocabulary.

On the rare occasions in class that I tried to pay attention, I found that I could only understand half of what was being said. And when I absolutely had to break apart from the English-speaking group for a moment and answer someone in Hebrew, I found that I only knew half the words I needed to say. (I could have read Hebrew books and built up a vocabulary, but I never did.) So I came to see myself as an outsider, and tried to take comfort in my distance from the crowd.

That hasn't worked out so well. In ninth grade I was in a school with lots of interesting artistic types, but they were Hebrew-speakers so I kept my distance. In eleventh grade I finally got to be in a class with girls, but they were all Hebrew-speakers so I kept my distance. Now I sit at home and interact with a small community of fellow Orthodox-Jewish English-speakers and hope no one will make me leave. To this day, whenever I pass a group of Hebrew-speaking teenagers on the street I have the sense that they're secretly laughing at me.

I've figured out how to play with lots of different systems over the years: music composition, acting, weird blogging, comics editing. But those are just fun things to do so that I don't get bored. My love is for videogames, and you know it's real love because I don't really enjoy making games but I force myself to do it anyway. Videogames are so diverse that I can imitate absolutely any kind of system, no matter how random, and make a game out of it. So that never gets old, and you can see why I love it so much. But since I'm an outsider I have to do all the tedious work myself, and that's most of the job. It's worth it, anyway.

So that's me. (See, I told you it wouldn't take long.) Now that you know everything there is to know about me, you can stay and read some stuff or not, I mean, at this point you can definitely make an informed opinion about whether you hate my guts or are mildly curious about what I'll do next. Welcome to my blog.

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Tuesday, January 19, 2010

I Am That Future Self

I've had plenty of ideas for games over the years. The earliest one I remember is Squeak, a Warcraft-clone where all the rodents in the world band together to take over the world. When I was 12 I spent a lot of time with my friend Tuvia planning out every detail of the cutscenes, though not much thought went into the game itself. The whole point of that idea was escapism. We felt like we were trapped in the school system, and wanted control of our own lives. So instead of going to class, we wandered around the campus and discussed the dilemma of mice trying to defeat their giant hunters.

I've changed. I've got lots of ideas for games now, but almost none of them are simple escapism. They all have a bit of reality in them, and sometimes more than a bit. Now that I think of it, I don't even know if 12-year-old me would like some of the games I want to make. He wanted to take the mundane and make it extraordinary; I want to take the extraordinary and make it mundane. It's the quiet moments that interest me now, not the noisy ones.

I used to lie awake at nights wondering how I'd change as I got older. What scared me was, I couldn't control my future self. My identity back then could later be completely buried under layers of responsibility and common-sense until all that's left is a boring adult. Who was this person, to think he could take over my life?

Well, that's me, really. The usurper. Sorry, kid.

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Pussywillow is sitting in my lap, as usual. He's gotten downright clingy lately. He never leaves my lap if he can help it. When I leave the chair, he stays and waits for me to come back. I still remember how he used to be, anti-social and holding on to psychological problems from when he was a kitten. And now it seems like the only thing he wants in the world is to be in my lap. I love this cat.


I've been playing Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance for the Gamecube, which is just like the other games in its series. I've written out a list of which relationships between the characters I might find interesting. As I play through the game I keep those characters standing next to each other whenever possible, so that I can get them to have conversations with each other. When any characters die I have to start the level over, because if I don't it means I'll never see those conversations. I've lost count of how many times I've replayed the level I'm on.


I like Tanya. She's crazy, but the kind of crazy I can relate to. And she listens, that's important. When I have an issue with something she's saying to me, I bring it up and we find some common ground.


I've been playing Little King's Story, which is a good game. It uses its rules to create a cartoony simulation of real-world concepts. It is charming, long and tedious.


Back in October, The Perfect Color was in a temporary art exhibit in a museum in Rio de Janeiro. I'd submitted it for this "games as art" exhibit, but I didn't know whether they accepted it until just a few days ago when I saw the photos. There was a computer running my game, and a poster on the wall with screenshots. The exhibit was only up for three days, but what this means is that somewhere in the world, there's at least one person who doesn't know me but has played and enjoyed my game.


So far I've read roughly 36 years of Spider-Man comics. I think the current run of Amazing Spider-Man is the best I've read. It's released almost weekly. Each time I finish an issue, I want to read the next one straight away. But I need to wait a week (at least) to read the next one.


I've been corresponding with Kyler about the graphics for The March of Bulk. He gave me a background design which was very pretty and colorful. I told him to tone it down, and gave him a long description of what I'm looking for. I can't wait to see what he comes up with.


Joss Whedon's show Dollhouse is ending now. He hasn't been restricted in what kind of story he's telling, so he tries to go every direction at once and the result is a confused mess with no focus at all. What there is so far of the ending is awful. It is nonsensical and aimless. I hope when Joss Whedon finds more work, it's under a stricter boss.

Beauty of the Mundane, Banality of the Imaginary

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Creative Disillusionment

For a very long time I've been saying that music isn't the way forward for me. But I'm only starting to really believe it now. I'm in the early stages of composing around ten different pieces, and I have little desire to continue any of them. When I'm in the mood for music I sit at the piano and play some old theme which never aspired to go anywhere, and I just play it over and over and over until I'm not in the mood for music anymore.

Music is like dreams. It serves a necessary purpose, in that it fulfills certain abstract emotional needs that are hard to describe in words. But there's nothing glamorous or interesting about music. It's like food. When I'm hungry, I eat. I don't care what it is that I'm eating, I just need to not be hungry anymore.

The one part of my repertoire which still has a spark for me is the music I've planned for my games. Some of it is for games which are a few decades away at best, but playing the music reassures me that I'm going to get there someday.

I've been telling myself over and over that games are what's important, and the words are starting to sink in. Music which isn't for games doesn't matter.

A parallel could easily be drawn to math, where I was really good at it until I lost interest and never did the final tests. I still use math, but only as a part of making games. I expect it'll be the same way with music someday. Everything I do eventually needs to be focused toward making games.

From that perspective, my upcoming CD is the symbol of an ending. "I'm done with this field, here's what I've accomplished in it." I know I ought to practice for it, but it hardly seems necessary. It's not like I have any reason to impress anyone with it. I'll just figure out the details as I'm playing.

2 Comments:

Anonymous said:

You know Mory I completely disagree with the statements mentioned in this piece, for one I know you are a picky eater when it comes to cream-cheese. two for music, maybe you just need someone sitting in the rocking chair for that inspiration to hit. this is realty selfish but don't forget those of us who desire your music creativity, one of your best talents. it has the desired effect to make a bad day change for the better. for the writer it may not be glamorous but for the listener it's a fantastic work of interpretation brought into the realm of reality. and will be desired by all who hear it, if only we could hear it live when you played it.

 Mory said:

It's very frustrating that I have no idea who you are.

If you'd like to hear me play, you're free to come over any time I'm home and ask me to play. I'd actually enjoy that. But no one ever comes over to hear me play, and I have no ambitions to spread my music around on more than a one-on-one basis. Making concerts, that's a career. I'd much rather spend my efforts on things where I think I have something original to offer.

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Monday, January 18, 2010

We Don't Fit

Before I went to America, somehow I got Dena to go through with ordering Wii Fit Plus. Actually, my mother paid for it. My mother stopped paying for Dena's gym membership for one reason or another, and Dena argued that she ought to pay for Wii Fit as a kind of replacement. That my mother is easily convinced of things is not news to me, but I had to push Dena a little bit to get her to try. Wii Fit is not a game I'd ever consider buying myself, first because I don't want to be seen buying an exercising tool and secondly because it's awfully expensive. But if my mother was going to pay for it, I knew I'd get a nice amount of entertainment out of it given that it is a Nintendo game. So a $10 rebate I'd gotten from Amazon from my earlier purchases was my contribution toward the $90 price.

Now that I've had the chance to play it, I can confirm that it's really good. Much better than I was expecting, really. The thing about Nintendo (and Miyamoto in particular, who helped design this) is that they do understand what makes for a good game. So they could make a game about washing dishes, and somehow it would end up fun. Here they've made a game about exercising, and I've never liked the whole mentality of exercising and obsessing about health but if it's in a Nintendo game somehow it's fun. I've been regularly playing it in the mornings. I do the body test, which checks your weight and tests your balance. And then sometimes I go on to do the yoga poses and even strength-building exercises. It really depends on how likely it is that someone will walk in on me, because that could be pretty embarrassing. I'm just playing a game, but an onlooker might think I was exercising!

Now, Dena has not played Wii Fit. Not at all. I waited a week for her to play it, because I thought if she played it first she'd feel more like it was her game. And then maybe she'd get comfortable using the Wii, because "her game" is on it, and then maybe she'd branch out and play other games, like New Super Mario Bros. Wii. I single out that game in particular (which I bought in America) because I've seen that it's way more fun in multiplayer than in single-player, but I very rarely have anyone to play it in multiplayer with. I only know it's fun because sometimes our cousins' cousin (sibling of the ones I was with in Illinois) comes over, and he's not a gamer but he's willing to play this game and it's so much fun playing with him. Anyway, I hoped this could be a gateway game for Dena. I know, I've said in the past that I wouldn't get my hopes up about things like that. But this is exercise! And yoga! And weighing yourself! And feeling bad about your weight! This is her kind of game! If there was ever a chance to get her into games, this is it.

There was never a chance, apparently. After a week of waiting for her to play Wii Fit, I finally played it myself. I pretended I just wanted to enjoy it for myself, but really I was doing it specifically while she was there but not in the room so that she might walk in and get jealous and want to play it herself. It basically worked. After I played some of the minigames, she wanted to try it herself. And she did play it for a half-hour or so, not the exercises but just the minigames. She has not touched the Wii since.

I'm enjoying Wii Fit. It's not a perfect game by any means, but it is a remarkable game nonetheless. Through it, Nintendo has managed to get millions of people who don't consider themselves gamers to have fun playing games. Why couldn't my sister be one of them?

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Tanya's back, and all's well. She was in South Africa because a bunch of her friends were getting married or engaged or having other events that she felt she had to be at. I would never value my friends over my creativity, but I guess I can understand why she would. Anyway, there's no grudge here. She's back, and the play's going to be great.

There's an actor Tanya knows who's willing to play Cornelius, but he's not available on Wednesdays and many of our rehearsals are on Wednesdays, so she's looking for other actors who might be easier to work with. She's going to watch the other production of The Matchmaker in a few days, and she said she might ask their Cornelius to join us if he's good. I hope she's joking about that one.

In order to keep the play under two hours, we were going to cut most of Act 4, and replace it with a short video clip of Act 4's plot played out in pantomime. (Tanya described the idea as "Charlie Chaplin-style".) It could have worked. Tanya was going to ask a film student to direct that bit. But now JEST's board of directors have told her to scrap that idea, because there's no room in the budget for it. So we're doing Act 4 as written, and the play will be long. I'm okay with this decision. On the one hand, it means what we're doing is less insane, and that's a shame. But on the other hand, it means I get more funny moments on stage. I was off-book, but it didn't take me too long to get there. I can learn another act quickly enough.

Not everyone showed up to this rehearsal, for whatever reason. The schedule said we'd be doing Act 1, but the actors who came were the actors for Act 2 (minus Cornelius). So we did Act 2. Ambrose isn't in that act, only Barnaby.

I tried to tone down my performance a tad, because in practicing at home it had been a bit too crazy for a stage. To try to figure out the mannerisms of Barnaby I was hopping around the house a lot, but on stage it just didn't feel right. Barnaby was in a strange area, he'd probably be a lot more restrained. So that's how I played hm. When we were done running the scene, Tanya told me to run around more. So we ran it again, and I ran around so much that I felt like I was playing a squirrel. (I have no problems with squirrels, I just didn't expect that.) And then when we were done Tanya told me to never stop running around, to just be totally hyperactive. So we ran it a third time, and I kept running around so much that I felt like I was repeating myself, and then when we were done she said it was great but I ought to move around more. Really hop up and down, when appropriate. This is going to be fun. I may need to exercise my legs regularly.

We still don't have an Ermengarde, and Tanya isn't too concerned because Ermengarde doesn't have many lines. She's considering Dena, which would just be weird. I saw her in Another Antigone, and that was a good show but Dena's acting was one of the things I didn't like about it. Plus, that would just be weird. I'm supposed to act like I'm in love with Dena? I hope Dena declines. Although... if I play it like I'm not really in love with Ermengarde, it could add a bit of the weirdness from my backstory for Ambrose, where Ermengarde is really just the rebound girl. Hmmm.

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Sunday, January 17, 2010

Quality Isn't Enough, Is It?

My favorite thing that Marvel Comics is publishing right now is S.W.O.R.D.. It's a science-fiction series about the secret organization that tries to keep aliens from destroying the Earth (like Men in Black). The two main characters are a military-type half-alien lady named Abigail Brand (a character created by Joss Whedon) and her boyfriend, Beast of the X-Men. Their relationship (as written and drawn here) is the most adorable thing in the world. Beast is always optimistic, Brand is always cynical. Beast is overly romantic, Brand is overly cold. These qualities are exaggerated in the art (by Steven Sanders, who I'd never heard of before) with a delightful cartooniness. For that matter, the art in general is brilliant. Every little detail in every panel is more expressive than you'd expect to see in a comic, and this guy has a real knack for comedic timing. The writing by Kieron Gillen is no less fun than the art, with lines like "Try not to start a war before I get back. And if you do, make it a small one.". The story is at all times exciting and funny simultaneously. It ties in with the rest of the Marvel Universe, and has the regrettable annoyance of being a good six months behind continuity, but that's a problem with a lot of Marvel's output now that everything's tying together as intricately as I always wanted. But that's a very minor nuisance. When I first read the first issue, it struck me as the best first issue I'd read in years, and I couldn't wait to read the next one. For that matter, I wished I could read through the next fifty right away!

There have been only three issues so far. Already there are rumors that sales are so bad the series is going to be cancelled.

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

Most of the internet chatter about this book has been criticizing it for giving Beast a different look than the other comics he appears in. Which just goes to show that many people on the internet have no taste at all. Beast's design in S.W.O.R.D. is so much better than anywhere else, so much more distinctive and full of personality, that I wish all the other comic artists would start drawing him like this.

 Mory said:

It's been confirmed that the series is canceled. There will only be five issues. Blah.

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Friday, January 15, 2010

Forward March

I've been making real progress on The March of Bulk lately. Mostly my new Thursday policy is to thank, as I spend over five hours on the game-work on Thursdays. That might seem like nothing to those of you with actual jobs, but keep in mind where I'm coming from here. A few years ago, five hours of continuous work on anything was unthinkable to me.

I'm not going to spoil any specifics about the game, for those of you fortunate enough to have not heard me give away all the details of the experience already. So I can't describe exactly what it is I've been working on. But I can tell you that the main game is going to be made up of 15 separate.. um, things, and I've made 12 of them. Most of those pieces are roughly how I planned them out a year ago. The rest I figured out as I went.

I think I've probably said already that The March of Bulk is a movement game. And even if I haven't, that's no spoiler. Now, the thing you have to understand about movement games is that their primary content is their controls, and that's something you can't really appreciate as an idea. You need to feel it for yourself. So I could plan out what the basic structure of it would be like, I could set out certain goals for myself in terms of how the game was supposed to end up, but I couldn't stick to those plans too faithfully. Ultimately the design comes down to intuition, not cleverness.

I almost never pull off the motion I'm going for on the first try. I try something, and if I'm not even in the right ballpark I throw it out, but if it's close I keep tweaking the numbers until I get there. I add complexity, I take out complexity. I break it into sections, so that I can do different things in different parts. What I'm doing here is halfway between programming and animation, and I'm good at neither but I know what I like and I can work out how to get there.

I could have asked Kyler to do the animations, of course. But that wouldn't work right. If he gave me some intricate animation, that's not subject to the player's interaction. I need it to react to exactly how the player is playing on a subtle level, or else it won't feel right. So the animations need to be pulled off through math, which takes into account all the variables of context.

So the pieces of a movement game only come together when I can play around with them as a gamer and see how it feels. (How the game feels is my main concern here. Those who don't care how their games feel have no business making movement games.) My old composition teacher Eliezer used to say that he couldn't tell me what to do with a piece of music until I had written it out. Similarly, I can't tell myself what to do with a piece of movement until I've programmed it in. And sometimes what I find surprises me. I had to throw out a few bits I liked in the planning stages, when I realized they would not mesh with the tone of the rest. And other things just occurred to me as I was working. There was one bit that wasn't even meant to be funny but turned out being hilarious through what's almost a glitch in the programming, so I played that up and added in a lot that I hadn't anticipated needing. Other times I unexpectedly feel as I'm playing like I'd like to do something at a certain point, and it's something I'd never considered, so I need to rework the design to add that in.

I'm trying to imagine what it would be like to be the main gamist for a big movement game with lots of people working for me, and it's hard to picture. Whoever programs the animations is making the game. If I want it to be my game (and I do), I can't pass that job off to someone else. Which means that no matter how high up I go as a gamist, I'm still going to need to program sometimes. I guess what I need to do is get a programming environment better-suited for movement games, like one with a built-in physics engine. Or I could try to reduce all the movements in The March of Bulk to some sort of notation system and try to find logic in that that I can consciously use later. But either way, I'm always going to need to get my hands dirty. I can't consider myself a gamist otherwise. I'd be at best a manager.

It could work. It'll all work out fine.

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Alternate-Universe Me

In some alternate timeline out there, my parents never moved to Israel. I wonder what their Mory would be like.

He never learned Hebrew, he never was exposed to the violent attitudes of poor Moroccan kids, he never had to get too used to the idea of standing out. He never learned the Israeli directness and lack of caring about the future. He never discovered internet piracy (which is less commonplace in America), and therefore never got into videogames. He eventually would find out about Asperger's Syndrome, and would most likely try to fit in and eliminate his differences.

That Mory would grow up to be a very boring person. My interpretation of my life story says that the most important thing that ever happened to me was moving to the holy land. The alternate-universe me never had a reason to exist. I do.

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How I play strategy games

Every Tuesday at 7:45 sharp, I run next door for Avri's Game Nights, where a bunch of us sit around and play board games. I have at times been accused of being an agent of chaos in these games, and some people have even expressed concern at playing with me because they can't predict what I'll do. But actually I'm a very methodical player. It's just not the methods other people would use, because my goals aren't the same.

I always aim to amuse myself, and I am easily amused. I might do something that gets me into trouble, and I know going in that it's probably going to get me in trouble, but I do it anyway because I know that if by some small chance I should pull it off it'll be glorious. Other people take a long time to consider each little thing they do; not me. I might spend lots of time analyzing what I did later, but the decision itself rarely takes more than a few seconds because I'm going by instinct. I think the fun is in the doing, not the planning. If it goes badly, it goes badly. But I'll have at least amused myself with the idea that I could have pulled off something ridiculous.

Other people don't think like that. Focusing on goals is very popular. It's what gets you ahead, if that's what you want to do. And there's always a goal to work for. Some people are going to be on top in the end, and some people will be failures. That's life. But that's not particularly important to me. There's only one ending. But there are so many little joys to be found along the way! If I can do one little thing that no one saw coming and totally reshapes the landscape, my work is done. That's such satisfaction already that it barely matters whether I end up a loser.

Now I'll admit, moments that great are few and far between. But like I said, I'm easily amused. Something doesn't have to be crazy to seem like a good idea, and I'll pursue what I consider good ideas to the ends of the Earth. Even ideas that are purely functional, I'll go after them if it seems like I might enjoy the function. If something's missing, I'll try to fill it in. If something's wrong, I'll try to fix it. These moments are in themselves satisfying, more because they feel right than because they are right. It's satisfying to make plans and stick to them and see them come together, even if at the end of the night it turns out those plans were ill-considered. Following some intricate plan with aesthetic appeal is more entertaining than forming a plan that makes sense.

I might not make it in the real world. My father wants me to start investing stocks; this seems like a very bad idea to me. At the end of my life, I'm not going to have more money than anyone else or be more famous than anyone else. I don't know if I'll even reach all the goals I've set for myself. And these things do matter to me, don't think they don't. But on a moment-to-moment basis, none of that concerns me at all. When I do a thing, it's because I think it's going to amuse me. Usually it does.

1 Comment:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

I try to find a balance between playing purely by instinct and purely by planning. I think it may also depend on the game. Some games just fit better into "telling a story" which pull me stronger into playing by instinct, and some games are rather dry and only reward planning. There also might be some correlation between this and the amount of randomness in a game. The more randomness, the easier it is for me to play by instinct, and vice versa.

So a game like Puerto Rico with basically no randomness is a game I play almost entirely by planning and hoping I can figure out what the other players actions will be by using pure logic.

Games like Last Night On Earth, where any 'ol random thing can happen, I try to play to maximize the story line. It's all about going out in a blaze of glory... sometimes literally.

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Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Project Natal: Programmed By Machines

Note (16/1/2010): Moshe has informed me that my enthusiasm is misplaced: actually this kind of real AI is in reasonably common use already. He told me that there's a machine that's already learning for itself how to speak like humans, though he didn't know any specifics so I can't verify that. Still, all that can really be taken away from this post is how out of the loop I am on a subject that used to seem like one of the most important things in the world to me.

I knew Project Natal was impressive. But I didn't realize Microsoft needed to use real artificial intelligence to make it. Look at this:

http://www.popsci.com/gadgets/article/2010-01/exclusive-inside-microsofts-project-natal

The article is short, but here's what I understand from it. When Project Natal sees an image of a room and identifies a person in it, it then puts together a list of likely guesses as to what that body is doing, assigns a probability to each possible interpretation, and then takes the most likely assumption. Nothing more glamorous is going on here than following rules like "If the leg is two pixels further to the left, then increase the probability of case #1,694.". But those rules were not programmed by people.

Somewhere in Microsoft headquarters is a big network of computers that together form what the project workers call "the living brain". I am not making this up, it's right there in the photo gallery on the Popular Science page. This computer system is not just programmed but trained to recognize body positions from images. It was only programmed with a basic knowledge of how human bodies are shaped, which is much like how a living creature has basic functions programmed in as instincts. The "living brain" is given pictures and is told repeatedly what body positions those pictures are supposed to stand for, and then it writes its own rules to make sense of all that. When it's finished, the list of rules it's come up with will be put into the considerably-dumber Project Natal systems, which will not learn for themselves but just follow the rules which have already been learned. And those rules aren't objective laws decided on by some programmer or team of experts, they're the personal views of this particular computer network in Microsoft headquarters. They're rules which are the result of this particular program's design and experiences, with all the imperfections that implies.

The article, like I said, is short. It doesn't say whether this same technique is being used to train Project Natal's recognition of emotions, though I imagine it must be. And I'd really be interested in hearing a more thorough analysis of the way they're getting this program to learn. The article doesn't even say if this sort of thing is common nowadays; I haven't heard of anything this ambitious before, but I don't hear much. What this article does tell me is that I was wrong about AI systems. Clearly real artificial intelligence does exist, it's just running on hardware too expensive for end users and still needs to be trained by professionals for very specific tasks. It is a start.

4 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

Just as a note of my concern for project natal is that the current precision of the system might not be high enough for people to do what they imagine they want to do with such a system. This will than lead to disappointment with the product.

I will use an example from a sport that I enjoy and am adept at. Ping pong. I'm assuming that most people will imagine that project natal will allow them to simulate a game of ping pong. It just seems like something it should be able to do. However, the precision of Natal is something like + or - 5 cm ( I read this in some article I can't find again).

Now ping pong is all about millimeters. Tiny differences in speed and angles. I'm sure that in sensing the angle of the paddle, a precision of roughly 1 mm would make it feel really authentic.

So to design games for Natal, they need to be designed in such a way that 5 cm is enough precision, and feels right. Something like an extreme upgrade to dance dance revolution.

I too am very interested in the whole project and can't wait to actually try it.

 Mory said:

Hi! Haven't heard from you in a while.

I actually raised my own concerns about the lack of precision when I first wrote about Natal here. And you're right, a Ping Pong game wouldn't work. Or at least, a realistic Ping Pong game wouldn't work; if you start getting arcade-y, there are ways to make it fun. For a realistic Ping Pong game I think it would be easier to use the upcoming PlayStation Motion Controller or even Nintendo's MotionPlus add-on. The appeal I see in Project Natal is first in pulling more people into games, and second in augmenting existing kinds of games with little bits of natural motion.

 Mory said:

Oh, and I should also say that from video demonstrations of Project Natal I could see a not-insignificant amount of lag between the action and its appearance on screen. But still, there's much that a good gamist could do with it.

 Mory said:

After speaking to Moshe, I've added a note to the beginning of this post spelling out that there is actually nothing out-of-the-ordinary going on here. Obviously if I'd spoken to him earlier I would not have written this post, but it seemed like a big deal when I read about it.

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The Necessity of Dreams

Scanning neural pathways...
17 problem areas located.
Pathway 3691b6 (68% above healthy)
Pathway 36e!00 (66% above healthy)
Pathway 36@892 (66% above healthy)
Pathway w793a3 (65% above healthy)
Pathway 361224 (61% above healthy)
Pathway 361225 (61% above healthy)
Pathway 3605nl (54% above healthy)
WARNING: All above pathways are reaching near-obsession levels and must be reduced immediately to maintain healthy brain function.
Pathway 64a54a (37% above healthy)
Pathway 64a5jd (37% above healthy)
Pathway 369(b7 (35% above healthy)
Pathway 760435 (34% above healthy)
Pathway r5esu8 (32% above healthy)
Pathway 282229 (26% above healthy)
Pathway 84$090 (14% above healthy)
Pathway a1+018 (10% above healthy)
Pathway a1+019 (10% above healthy)
Pathway a1+020 (10% above healthy)
Okay, what have we got. A lot of trouble in the 36 area, I see.. the girl next door. Okay, I'll have to start from there. And w793a3... pizza. I must still be hungry. Let's get to work.
I am in that girl next door's house. She is not here. I am okay with this. There is a slice of pizza on the table.
>_
That ought to lower them a little. How direct should the sexual content here go? Hm, 68%.. that's not really so bad. It's not worth risking waking up over. There's still a lot to fix after dealing with her.
She is asking to share pizza. There is a pie of pizza on the table.
>_
Okay. Not the most effective thing in the world, but it'll deal with 36e!00 a bit. How are we doing?
Pathway 3691b6 (68% above healthy)
Pathway 36e!00 (42% above healthy)
Pathway 36@892 (56% above healthy)
Pathway w793a3 (13% above healthy)
Pathway 361224 (60% above healthy)
Pathway 361225 (60% above healthy)
Pathway 3605nl (53% above healthy)
Pathway 64a54a (37% above healthy)
Pathway 64a5jd (37% above healthy)
Pathway 369(b7 (2% above healthy)
Pathway 760435 (34% above healthy)
Pathway r5esu8 (32% above healthy)
Pathway 282229 (26% above healthy)
Pathway 84$090 (14% above healthy)
Pathway a1+018 (10% above healthy)
Pathway a1+019 (10% above healthy)
Pathway a1+020 (10% above healthy)
Pathway 91gg47 (21% above healthy)
Darn it, I made a new one. 91gg47.. the similarity between tables and the human body. I'd better fix that before it gets any worse.
The table has turned into a human and walked away. This is not unusual.
>_
Pathway 91gg47 (-4% above healthy)
Phew. Okay, how do I proceed. 64a54a.. I'm not doing enough painting these days. Easily remedied, and I can tie that in with the girl easily enough.
The girl next door has taken off her clothes and would like me to paint her back.
>_
Okay, that's going down, excellent. I should leave that going for a minute so that I don't have to deal with this again for a while. If I keep mixing things together like this, I'll be done in no time. Okay, let's see what's next.. ah. This is an easy one.
Spiders crawl out of her back and jump at my face. I am still alive.
>ask girl to squash spiders
She will not, and she laughs at me. I can handle this humiliation.
WARNING: Stress levels reaching unsafe level. Stress must be reduced to prevent waking up.
No, I'm still okay. I've got to leave this going for another few seconds, it's going down slowly. 9%... 5%... that should be enough.
She asks about sociological principles.
>_
This shouldn't take long. This stuff is totally useless, I wouldn't want to be stuck with wanting to talk about it in real life. 16%.. 1%. Fine. Let's get to the a1's now.
Babies descend from the BEEP BEEP BEEP
Not the alarm already!
Deleting temporary files...
ERROR. Some temporary files were not properly removed. These may interfere with normal brain function.
But there are still a few serious obsessions.. darn. I'll have to bring those down tomorrow.

Okay, get up.

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Tuesday, January 12, 2010

No Way To Run A Production

Tanya has been out of the country for a month now. Without a director, we can't make any real progress on the play. At first we had rehearsals under the assistant director, and our lead actress wasn't taking them seriously. Then we took a three-week break for Tanya to get back.

Tanya is in South Africa. No one (the assistant director included) seems to have any idea what she's doing there. She's not South African, but she lived there for a while so she has friends there. That still doesn't explain what was so important that she'd leave us for it for so long.

We presently have no actor playing Cornelius. While I was in America, David, who was going to play the part and who I was enjoying working with, got a hernia. It's not an emergency, so the hospital hasn't scheduled his surgery yet. But the surgery needs to be done, and until it is he can't strain himself in any way. That means he's out, and we have no replacement. My friend Moshe expressed an interest in trying out for the part, but then he got in to this training program for a computer job and now he doesn't have the time. The only other person who's expressed interest so far is someone who's not available on Wednesdays, which many of our rehearsals are on.

But we don't even know if he'd be appropriate for the part, because there have yet to be any sort of auditions for the part. David got in on the strength of his audition months ago, I doubt Tanya even considered anyone else. And Tanya's not back yet. She was supposed to be here yesterday. No one seems to know why she's not. Now she says she'll be here on Thursday. She'd better be.

There's also an issue with the character of Ermengarde. There was a lovely girl playing her, and then she had trouble with her travel visa so she's out. A girl I know took over, and then she joined a production of Annie which happens to have a performance on the same night as one of ours. Tanya knew about this before she left, but she didn't find anyone else. So we may or may not have an Ermengarde, and there isn't anyone who can fix this situation except for a lady who is in South Africa right now.

I didn't realize she wasn't going to be here, so I took today's rehearsal seriously. We were supposed to get off book in the three-week break, so I basically did. There are many parts I'm not comfortable with yet, and I'd need to stumble through those parts a bit, but I do basically know all my lines. The rehearsal was called for 7:30 in the place where we had the callbacks, so I printed out a map of the place for reference (just to be sure I'd get to the right place) and left the house at 5:30. I got there a few minutes late.

There was no one there except me and three other actors. Even the assistant director hadn't gotten there yet. And when she did, she said that no one else would be coming. Everyone had some convenient excuse to not be there.

We waited around until a little past 8:00. I played piano in the meantime; it was horribly out of tune, and there wasn't much I could do with it. Then someone named Rachel showed up, who is apparently Tanya's boss. In retrospect I'm not sure why she was there; there's not much she could have said to explain what was going on because she herself didn't seem to understand what was going on. But we sat around and talked about the state of the play, and then since we were there we did the parts of the play that we could.

Rachel told me I flail my arms around too much as Ambrose. I'll listen to what she's saying, but this is getting annoying. When I worked with Tanya she said to move around less with my lower body. So all the energy that I wanted Ambrose to have, that was all going into his arms. Now I'm finding out that he shouldn't have so much energy. I'm trying to figure out who this character is, I really am, but these reactions just aren't making sense to me. I'm afraid the character is going to end up just standing there motionless like a corpse, and nothing I want to express about the character is going to come across at all.

And Barnaby, no one is complaining about. I'm really not sure about what I'm doing with Barnaby, but no one's saying a thing. It could be because I've got it, so no one bothers. More likely it's because I'm doing such an awful job that people are worried they'll hurt my feelings. Normal people are so irritating.

The play goes on at the beginning of March. A month and a half, that's the time we've got. Which might be enough for some plays, but this is a crazy play and it really needs more time. It looked like we had more time, and then Tanya had to go to South Africa. We have no Cornelius, we may or may not have an Ermengarde, and that's not even getting to all the craziness of act 4 which we haven't even begun to plan yet but only exists as a vague concept in Tanya's head. And sure, it's a good concept, but still!

I feel certain that there's a great play to be made here. I'm less certain that we're making that play.

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Monday, January 11, 2010

Laziness May Be Hazardous To Your Health

I have very nice parents. One of the many little perks of that is that I never had to do dishes throughout my teenage years. It was only after that that they started to get fed up and started dish-washing schedules that included me. So one day of the week was my day to do the dishes. This schedule stuck for maybe two months, tops.

See, I take a very long time doing dishes. It always frustrates me when dishes are put back in the drawer that aren't perfectly clean, so I was especially thorough with each and every piece of silverware. Every spot needed to be scrubbed. My parents told me I was wasting too much water, that it shouldn't be taking me so long, but I wasn't going to do the kind of job they do. And understand, I do not enjoy washing dishes at all. This wasn't a point of pride, just a point of obsession. Each time I washed the dishes, I was standing at that sink for well over two hours.

Eventually I squirmed my way out of doing the dishes again. Then my mother started to get angry. She said it wasn't fair that I should use dishes and she'd have to wash them. She suggested that rather than having a schedule, we should all just wash our own dishes.

So from that point on, I've been eating on plastic. Plastic plates, plastic cups. I still use real silverware, because the plastic silverware is borderline unusable. But if there's a way to not leave a dish, I don't leave a dish. That way my mother can't justifiably get angry at me for giving her work that she wanted me to do. There's no work now.

From the start I understood the downside of this policy, which is that it limits the food I can eat. I can't cook anything, even pasta, because then there would be pots or pans left. So for months now I've been on an exclusive diet of bagels and whatever leftover pasta is around, but that's barely a change from before so I'm okay with it. I don't need variety, I just need to eat.

As I said I've been doing this for months, but it was very recently that my father found out that I'd been microwaving the plates. Well, of course I microwave the plates. The bagels need to be defrosted before toasting, and I need to melt cheese on the pasta. When I'm having pasta, I sometimes microwave it over and over. I didn't realize, until my father told me, that that's not healthy. He told me that microwaving plastic gets some sort of toxic material into the food which has been proven to cause cancer.

Well, gee. I wish he had told me that before I was microwaving my food in them twice a day every day for months. He assured me that there's no way I could get cancer already, but I don't see how he's so certain. I've stopped microwaving the plates, of course. For pasta I use actual dishes, which I'm not going to wash afterward. I'm going to eat pasta less.

2 Comments:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Defrost bagels on top of a piece of paper towel.

 Mory said:

This is what I do now.

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Sunday, January 10, 2010

Seventy-four

As you may have gathered over the past few years, 74 is my favorite number. This is because there was once a moment in my life where I said to myself, "From this moment on, 74 is going to be my favorite number.". I was 17, I was in high school, and I was playing WarioWare: Mega Microgame$ on my Game Boy Advance. More specifically, I was playing the paper airplane minigame. (This is the same minigame which has since been expanded into a DSi downloadable game.) I kept playing it over and over, and I kept dying at roughly 74 points. That was the moment I decided it would be my favorite number. I know, it's not earth-shattering. But it's not like I pick random favorite numbers every day. I guess I wasn't ready until that very moment. When you see the number, you just know it's the one. Or the seventy-four, as the case may be.

There are a few interesting coincidences of the number in my life, which I only discovered later. For instance, at the point when I was playing that game, my father was 47 years old and my grandfather was 74 years old. And then there's the G'matriya. G'matriya is a little number game rabbis like to play, where each Hebrew letter has a numerical value and the value of any word is the sum of its letters. The G'matriya of "Mordechai" is 274. And the G'matriya of "Mordechai Ariel Buckman", by its Hebrew spelling, is 714. See, that's just cool. Oh, and Dr. Hans Asperger (grrr) died at 74.

But even without all that stuff, it'd still be my favorite number. I've used it as the title for all my posts here which are short and random, because the title "74" is short and random. It didn't occur to me to use it as a way to control the structure of the blog until my seventh 74 post, which just so happened (I swear I did not plan this out!) to be my 74th post overall.

I'd like to live forever, but I suspect I'll actually die at the age of 74. Alternatively, I might die in the year 2174, 13 years after the United Federation of Planets is formed. I like that version of the story better.

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My Alphabet

Previously:
When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything (26/7/2009)
Step 2: Arellian
I had almost finished my logical alphabet, where the connections between letters are perfectly intuitive and logical. I needed to start working on the vocabulary. It would use a modified version of Hebrew's "root" logic, because it just makes everything more sensible. In addition, you could get the opposite of any word by spelling it backwards. And the longer a word, the more specialized its meaning. There would be short words talking about general concepts, so that you could have a basic conversation without having an advanced vocabulary. But adding on more letters to the start and end would add on subtleties and contexts and connotations and iterations. Starting from these rules, I'd eventually deduce the single most logical language in the world. I believed I'd find that in the end, there would only be one solution to this problem.

This post is very long and thorough, and includes both images and an audio file. If you are short on time, or are not interested in the minutiae of useless things, you may want to skip most or all of this post.

The first few years of my life were spent in America, where the name "Mordechai" might sound weird, so my parents gave me a nickname. At the time I first figured out how to read, that name was spelled "Morry". An overthinker even then, I went to my mother and protested. "If it's spelled 'Morry', it has to rhyme with 'sorry'. But I'm not 'Mahr-ee', I'm 'More-ee'!" So we took an R out of my name, and I was satisfied. But of course I was making a naïve mistake: I was expecting language to make sense. Language hasn't made sense in thousands of years.

Ancient Hebrew- now there was a sensible language. In Hebrew every word is made up of a shoresh (meaning root) of three letters that says what the essence of the word is. You can detach those three letters from the "structure" that contains them, so that you can understand what the word means just by recognizing those two elements. The logic of the system is clear: just by knowing one word (any word) from a particular root, you can infer all the rest. There are rules covering every aspect of spelling and grammar. And in ancient times, the Hebrew letters were all distinct from each other. None of this nonsense like in English where C and S can make the same sound, and sometimes an S can sound like a Z, and C, K and Q can all be the same. English derives from languages that derive from other languages that derive from other languages that eventually go back to ancient Hebrew, and it makes sense that with such a logical language as ancient Hebrew the other languages would want to build on that, but over the millennia all sorts of inane compromises of sanity have crept in to the point where none of the elegance remains.

(I'm sure there's a long history explaining every misstep that led to where we are now, but I'm not too curious because all the people I could assign blame to are long dead.)

In Israel I learned Hebrew, and those rules were like a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of pollution. But modern Hebrew is not ancient Hebrew. Many mistakes and contrivances which got into other languages somehow found their way into Hebrew. What keeps it reasonably sane to this day is that we've got many books written in ancient Hebrew, from which we can figure out how the general grammar works. (Modern grammar is different in many little ways, but it's mostly the same.) But we don't have an audio recording telling us how it's meant to be pronounced. So in learning the rules, there was a bit of a frustrating disconnect where I understood the logic of the rules, but didn't see them being applied consistently.

For instance: in Hebrew there are six letters which sometimes have dots in them. Without a dot the sound is continuous, with a dot it's a single sound. (I actually think that's exactly backwards from the way it used to be, but that's a different topic.) Take the letter pei: with a dot it's pronounced like a P, without it's pronounced like an F (or "PH"). That makes sense. It's roughly the same sound, except that one is continuous and one isn't, so they're the same letter and there are rules saying when you use one or the other. But in the rules of spelling, there are six letters like that: the equivalents of B, G, D, K, P, and T. Of those, only the B, K and P equivalents make a different sound with a dot. That's clearly wrong. In ancient Hebrew each of those had a continuous form, but we've forgotten or discarded those.

Things like that are just inconsistent, and that drove me crazy. If it's going to be a sensible language with sensible rules, it's got to go all the way. You can't just take out some of those rules and expect the result to still make sense. There are letters whose sound we've forgotten, so we pronounce them the same as other letters. The result is redundancies and confusion, which is not how Hebrew is supposed to be. Hebrew is supposed to be a holy language, not a random one. When we read out of our holy Torah every Shabbat, we're reading it wrong. It's not supposed to sound the way we make it sound, and I imagine the real thing is probably much more beautiful.

I admired the ambition of Hebrew, didn't care for how it had ended up. So in fifth grade, I started working on a replacement. By the standards of this confused world Hebrew is still pretty logical. But not nearly enough for my liking, and that's what this new language I imagined would have to be. I started with the alphabet, trying to work in all the (American) English sounds but in a structured way which was detached from the fuzzy logic of modern alphabets.

Here it is:

Back then I called it the Arellian alphabet after my middle name; now I call it the Hee alphabet, for reasons that I will explain later. There's a lot going on here, so it might take a while to explain fully. (The scanner chopped off the sides a bit. Just pretend it didn't.)

But first, please note that this is not exactly what I came up with in grade school. What I came up with then had flaws, which I've corrected in order to post them here. This is, in my view, the definitive version of the alphabet, and if ten-year-old me saw what I've done (and heard my reasoning for the changes), I have little doubt that he'd come around to my way of thinking. 35 of the 52 symbols here are exactly as scribbled on all my school notebooks, and the other 17 I created yesterday to fill in the gaps and correct the mistakes while staying fairly true to the original scribbles through all the revisions.

Anyway. As you see, both the vowels and the consonants are categorized into families. Similarly to Hebrew words but unlike Hebrew letters, just by looking at any letter in this alphabet you can understand exactly how it relates to all the other letters. In both English and Hebrew there are some sounds which are combinations of other sounds, and that goes unacknowledged. That's unacceptable to me. If a common sound is made up of other sounds, you know it because you can see that the symbol for the letter is made up of two other letters. So that's what all these vowel and consonant "combinations" are.

Here's an MP3 file of all fifty-two sounds, some of which you've most likely never heard. I'm going to get to an explanation of each letter in a minute, but first I'd like to clarify where I'm coming from with this.

It probably looks like a tremendous number of letters, and I guess it is. There are twice as many sounds here as in the modern Hebrew language, or probably even the (more diverse) biblical Hebrew language. It even has more sounds than English, a language where each letter can sound twenty different ways depending on the time of day. On the other hand, it's not even close to containing all the sounds out there, so it's not useful for a thorough examination of language either. The question that must be asked is what exactly it's for. My answer is that it was a personal way for me to make sense of the sounds that I already knew and used on a daily basis. English and Hebrew didn't make sense, so I needed to satisfy myself.

Every single sound which I use in casual English speech is contained in this alphabet, even those which I use only when saying Hebrew words in English. The reason there are more letters than both languages combined, even though authentically Hebrew sounds are not accounted for, is twofold. First, the letters are consistent. Each letter will always make the same sound, with no exceptions. Second, the rules need to be thorough. If there are four sounds to be made of a certain category, I can't just include three. I need the full set, or else I can't justify including that category to begin with. This second rule is a lot less satisfying to me now than the first, but back then I thought the alphabet was a lot more thorough than it actually is so I didn't have a problem with it.

Okay, let's go through bit by bit. Keep in mind the whole time that I speak with an American accent. If you have a different accent, you're almost guaranteed to be confused at times unless you remember that.


Vowels

First up are "ah" and "uh". Similar sounds, so much so that when Israelis speak English they think there's only "ah" and no "uh" and no one thinks to correct them. "Ah" is the A in "blah", the O in "pot" and the first E in "en garde". "Uh" is the U in "run", the O in "cover", the OO in "blood", the A in "mesa" and the E in "the".

Next are the short A, E, and I, which have always sounded to me more like three parts of a specific range of sounds than three distinct entities. You can't go from "a" to "i" without passing through "e" on the way. At least, that's how I see it. They are drawn accordingly, and note that all three are only drawn above the middle of the line. (I drew on two lines to better emphasize this.) Anyway, "a" is the A in "cat" and the EA in "yeah". "E" is the E in "pet". "I" is the I in "think", the O in "women" and for that matter the E in "women" as well, the E in "glasses", the second O in "horizon", the U in "rhesus", the Y in "cyst" and the dot in "Mrs.". :)

"O" is the O in "or", but not the O of "most". It is the sound made by the Hebrew letter vav, and I believe it's also like the O you'd hear in Spanish though I'm not certain of that. It's a simpler sound than the English O; if you don't know what I'm talking about you'll have to listen to the MP3. "Oo" is the OO in "caboose", the O in "move", the U in "ruse" and the W in "ewe". What I call "u" is probably not what you'd expect; I'm referring specifically to the U of "put" and the OO of "foot". The old version of "Arellian" had a fourth leter in this category, and the whole family looked more congruous for it, but I just realized now that it's actually made of two sounds. It's hard to shake what I've learned. Anyway, this is a family of three because the mouth is a similar shape in all three, but it's not a range of sounds like the "e" family.

Finally there's "ee": the EE of "sweet", the EA of "leaf", the EI of "either", the E of "mete" and the I of "pizza". This letter is in a category of its own. It looks like the Hebrew letter yod, which makes the same sound.

Vowel Combinations

The first line is what you get when you add "ee" to the end of all eight of the other vowels. There are two "I"s: the first is the Y in "fly" and the second is the I in "flight". They are not the same sound; the first is "ah-ee" and the second is "uh-ee". The third I put in parentheses because it's hard to describe, but it's a short "a" with "ee" added. For some reason it makes me think of pirates. "Ay" is the A of "date" and the EI of "neigh" and the É of "café". Like "I", we English-speakers think of this as one sound but it's actually made of two: "eh-ee". After that is "i-ee", which is again not English. The MP3 file will tell you how it sounds. Then to the "oo" family: "oy" is the OY of "boy" and the oi of "noise". "Ooy" isn't English except under certain pronounciations of "buoy", but it's straightforward: just try to say "Shmooi!" as one syllable, and you've got it. And finally "u-ee", which is the U of "put" plus "ee" though that might be hard to imagine without hearing it.

The second line is what you get by adding "oo" to the other vowels. I'm just going to skip to the parts that are English sounds, because you understand the routine by now. "ow" is the OW in "now", which is actually "a"+"oo". "ew" is not in any words except "Ew!", but you know it from there: "i" plus "oo". Then there's "oh", which is the English O in "boat" and "comb" and snow". And at the end of the line I should have put in "ee-oo", as in the word "Eeeeeew!", but I didn't think of it until just this moment. My bad. The old school notebooks probably had that, though, because it just makes sense. It would look like a backwards "ooy". (So I guess there are actually 53 letters, not 52.) There's no "u-oo", because the two sounds are so similar that I personally can just barely perceive the combination as being different from a simple "oo", though that's probably just me.

On the third line is one of the changes from the original that I mentioned earlier. "Aw" used to be in the "oo" family as its own basic sound, and that always gave me lots of trouble but I couldn't figure out why until today. It's actually a combination of "o" and "uh", isn't it? If I had realized this back in the day, I might have filled out all the rest of the vowel+"uh"s, because they're all pretty distinct sounds, but today I don't see the need. Only one of those nine sounds is in my life. "Aw" is the AW of "saw" and the AU of "pause".

And that's all for the vowels! [phew] This didn't seem so complicated when I made it up...


Consonants

What I found about consonants, when I thought about them, was that they could generally be broken into categories by two criteria. First, some sounds were short sounds after which you move on, and others were continuous. Secondly, some sounds sounded dry and some sounded soft. I don't know how else to describe it.

Let me give you an example of what I mean, using the first family of consonants I wrote out. (There isn't really a proper order to any of this, it's just how I decided to write it this time.) P is a noncontinuous sound. If you make it continuous (down), you have an F. If you make the P's sound softer (in the sense of texture, not loudness), you have a B. That's written to the right. And if you make the P both soft and continuous, you have a V. A family of four. Now take notice of how these letters are written; their appearance reflects their places in the family. The P and F are made of sharp angles, while the B and V are made of soft curves. Also, the F and V's lines end up back where they started. That's a principle I was particularly happy about: if a consonant is continuous, you know it because it closes a loop. By the way, the resemblance to a lowercase B and capital F was not unintentional. It made the letters easier for me to remember.

The T family follows the same principles. The T and D equivalents look much like lowercase T's and D's, but more importantly the T is made of straight lines and the D is curved. The continuous form of T is Th, which is the Th of "math". The Th of "there" I'm calling Dh, because it's the continuous form of D.

The third family is less English-sounding. The soft version of K is G. The continuous version is Kh, like the "ch" in "Mordechai" or "Bach" or "Blecch!". That's the Hebrew khaf, not the hebrew khet, because I don't pronounce khets correctly even when speaking in Hebrew. The final part of the family I can't really describe in words, because it is neither a part of English nor a part of modern Hebrew. (I like to think it was in ancient Hebrew, though.) I call it Gh, and if you want to know what it sounds like you'll just have to hear it in the MP3. Alternatively you could figure it out for yourself, because there's only one sound that could possibly complete the sequence. It's the continuous form of G and the soft form of Kh. Now, what I find funny is that everyone thinks the continuous form of G is J, but the two sounds aren't connected to each other in any way! I'll explain a little bit later what the J sound is, but it has nothing to do with this family.

The fourth family is an odd one. S and Sh are clearly connected, as is Z and Zh (the S of "decision"), and the Z's are certainly the soft version of the S's, but all four sounds are continuous. So they all start with a line in the middle and then close a loop, but they close that loop in different ways.

In the bottom left corner is H. That's not connected to anything, because it's kind of the prototypical sound. You don't close your mouth at all to make it, you just exhale. So the design is a simple two lines- first there's silence, and then sound. This does not conform to the closing-a-loop rule, but the line goes along with the rule I wrote to the right of the big word "Consonants": drawing a line in the middle coming out from any letter continues its sound. (This rule replaces any cases where one letter repeats itself, which would be redundant.) So in a sense you're just continuing the most basic sound. Because of that, H is to my mind almost a vowel, which is why I didn't make it loop.

Speaking of almost-vowels, the two letters to its immediate right are just vowels masquerading as consonants. Y is what you get when you continue the end of an "ee", W is what you get when you continue from an "oo". Each is drawn as its vowel with a line continuing it. (With both H and these, to lengthen the sound you just draw out the line further. You don't add a second line.) Y and W should be considered a family of two.

All the way on the right are the four leftover sounds. These cannot fit into any possible categories, but they are common sounds in both English and Hebrew and therefore need to be represented. I would have loved to make whole families out of each of them, but that would involve filling those families almost entirely with sounds I don't know. The fact that I didn't do that makes me feel better about not completing the "aw" line. But even if I had, whatever came out would most likely not resemble the four regular consonant families. The R is pronounced like an American R. If the N comes before a G or a K, it is not combined with those sounds as in English but the two sounds are kept separate. You'll notice the lines sticking out from the R and L, with parentheticals pointing out that they aren't always there. That's because I find that R and L are most peculiar letters: they have a bit of a vowel built in. Every time your mouth moves to form an R or L and air is still coming out of it, you have to make an "u" sound of sorts in the process. That's how it seems to me. So the line completes the V-shape that's the "u" vowel. The line does not appear when an R or an L is the first letter of a word. I'm okay with adding a weird rule like that, because it's just codifying how I already talk.

Consonant Combinations

This bit could have been longer, including sounds like X (=K+S) and maybe some new ones, but I don't remember having any combined sounds other than these four back in elementary school so these are the only ones I'm including. The first line is straightforward: I'm adding the S family to T and D. "Ts" is the Hebrew tzadi, so I use it regularly to say things like names. In English it's the double-Z of "mezzo". "Dz" is just D and Z together; I can't think of any words which use this as a single sound, but it's the softened version of "ts" so it has to be here. The other two you'll recognize: T+Sh="ch", and D+Zh="j". "Ch" is the CH of "which", "J" is the J of "Jew" and the G of "gem". How these letters got connected to C's and G's, I have no idea.

And finally, something which isn't so much one letter after the other as it is the synthesis of two sounds. "Ng" looks like an N inside a G. I mentioned earlier that just an N with a G after it makes two disconnected sound, so here's the way to write the English NG of "ring". Unlike in English, this sound is not restricted to the ends of words; it's a letter like any other.

So that's the Hee (formerly Arellian) alphabet. Here's how my full name is written:


Now, the Arellian alphabet was supposed to be a precursor to the Arellian language. I never did that. I started it, and gave up almost immediately afterward because the task I'd set for myself was just too big. There are a few principles that all words in this language would need to follow. First, any word written backwards is its opposite. Second, the shorter the word the more general its concept. The more specialized the field up for discussion, the longer the words get. Third, changing any single letter in a word (consonant or vowel) to another letter in its family (or a combination letter made from it) gets you a word which means almost the same thing but not quite. Fourth, by looking at a word you've never seen and comparing it to other words you know you should sometimes be able to figure out what it means for yourself.

You can see why I gave up. I'm not sure if it's theoretically possible to make an entire language with such precise logic to it.

I might as well tell you where the name "Hee" comes from. In twenty years or so, I hope to have gotten up to the point where I can make my fantasy-RPG idea. In that game there will be many different races, one of which I call Hee. They're fundamentalist atheists in white burkas who strive to achieve perfection by destroying anything which doesn't fit their very narrow view of what's logical. (Like all the races I have planned for the game, they're actually me in disguise.) This imaginary language I wanted is perfectly suited for them, being a naïve attempt at perfection of thought. "Hee" is the only name they could possibly have. Like I said, any letter can be changed for another letter of its family. That means that any word is not the be-all and end-all of its concept, except for a word which has only one syllable where all the letters come from one-letter families. That's H and "ee". The word written out looks like a backwards four, which is a striking enough symbol to put on flags.

(By the way, while trying to find a suitable name for the Hee I first went through the two-letter families, and accidentally stumbled across the Jewish name for God! That gave me a lot more respect for the unappreciated logic of correctly-pronounced Hebrew.)

I do not intend to create the Hee language, Tolkien-style (or Avatar-style, more topically). Back when I was in school it seemed like a good idea, but when I was in school I was a lot more bored than I am now. It just seems like too much work for something with too little purpose. If anyone reading this would like to give it a shot, be my guest.

6 Comments:

Blogger Betzalel said:

I like your idea of the alphabet. I also thought about making one, but the combination of all the sounds used in correct Hebrew and their families was just too much for me. I do have some corrections for you though.

You forgot to talk about M and N. Coincidentally, I have a correction to your classification. I think M should be related to the B family. Similarly, N should be related to the D family and ng should be related to the G family. It's not very hard to make the connection. Each one is just making that lip position and breathing out of your nose instead.

[If you have a cold and can't breath out of your nose, you will probably use the one you blow out of your mouth for (B instead of M). Try it! Just replace the letters M N and ng for B D and G, ad you idstadtly soud codgested!]

Anyways, ng should not be classified as a consonant combination, rather a consonant on its own (related to G, as stated above).
---
Your system isn't completely consistent, there are still some things it doesn't cover:

How do you know when to change to the next syllable? Words can be spelled the same way, yet still divided differently. In my name, for example, B-e-ts-ah-L-e-L how do you know that the division is ts-ah-L e-L and not ts-ah L-e-L?

Similarly, you don't talk about accenting. Which syllable is accented is undetermined by your system.
---
Just a random comment, your gh is like many people pronounce the reish in Hebrew (although its correct pronunciation is not in your alphabet). There is also a letter for it in Arabic, the ghin. In arabic it's related to the 'Ain.

 Mory said:

M and N are grouped in the "left over" category together with R and L. It's not a particularly elegant way to include them. And yes, NG isn't really a combination but a sound of its own. However, it would not fit into any of the families because there's such a strict logic of four members to a family. Just because a person who can't speak clearly pronounces one letter as another doesn't mean they're related, and I see no reason to put M and B together.

If there is no space between one word and the next, there is no break in syllables and they flow one into the next. Your name would only be pronounced Betsah Lel if it were two separate names. Accents are more of an issue, but I think putting the accent on any syllable at all would be acceptable for this theoretical language.

Blogger Betzalel said:

They're not related because people can't pronounce them well, that's just a way of demonstrating it. The fact is that you're making the same mouth position in the whole family and in that letter. The difference is that you're breathing from your nose.

Even if you do decide to keep them separate, there's no reason not to include ng in the same family as N and M. [The reason there's no equivalent for the forth family (s/z) is that it's actually part of the second (t/d) family. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IPA]

The problem is in names such as mine is that the normal syllable division is different than just consonant-vowel. In my name (how I pronounce it in English), the syllables should be Be-tsal-el. The alternate (more logical) way of dividing them would be Be-tsa-lel. There's nothing here to differentiate between the two ways of division.

 Mory said:

I guess I can see what you're saying about M being related to the P family. If that's the case, it seems like NG ought to be grouped with the K family somehow. And that means that there are other rules that need to be taken into account for grouping consonants together other than the two I identified, because you can't have just two families of five. If those families can lead to those sounds, whatever principle that is ought to be applicable to the other families to get other sounds which aren't from English or Hebrew.

The more I think about this alphabet, the less elegant it seems.

What I'm not convinced is a problem is what you're saying about breaking up words. Frankly, I don't see what it is you're objecting to. When I say "Betzalel" I'm not breaking it up "Be-tza-lel" or "Be-tzal-el", because I'm not breaking it up at all. I'm saying the whole thing together in a continuous legato sound. Each letter leads right into the next, without any breaks, so your insistence that it needs to be broken up into distinct chunks seems to be at odds with how we actually talk. We don't pause between syllables while talking, we only pause between words.

Blogger Betzalel said:

The alphabet could still be simplified at the price of phonetic accuracy. I mean you could still put things in these sort of groups without actually taking into consideration all of the related sounds.

Our forefathers also thought like you when they put together the alphabet. They didn't think of NG. The special rules in Hebrew for the letters B G D K P T concerning when they're voiced and when they aren't show that they had some kind of grouping with them. The S and Sh appear in the same letter. In the ancient script the M and N are very similar. I think W and Y are too. Tet and Kuf are clearly Taf+'Ayin and Kaf+'Ayin. The 3-letter roots have a common 2-letter root allowing you to figure out pretty much what things mean. [P-R-x for example all mean things like open up, unravel, etc.] So I think language was originally very logical, it's only been made less logical throughout the millenniums of changes it had. I don't know about backwards spelling though.

There's no complete stop between syllables, but there is a difference in the way we speak. It's the difference it the nikud is on the lamed in my name or on the aleph. If you use a glottal stop or not. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glottal_stop

 Mory said:

What you're talking about is going way over my head, I think. So it's safe to say that fifth grade me would not have thought of any of it. This alphabet has not been a serious proposal for more than a decade now.

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Thursday, January 07, 2010

Semantics, Part 3

Language matters. Words are not simple tools which we use and discard, they are living and growing ideas which shape the way we think far more than we are consciously aware of.

Each word has connotations and connections to other words and rules of proper usage in speech, and these are more or less consistent from person to person within a given society. Thus, the language itself becomes a container for the way a society sees the world on an emotional level.

But an individual within that society is not a blank slate before using language -each idea in our heads has associations and connections to other ideas and memories of prior usage in speech, all of which is unique to that individual's brain. So at any time a person starts to converse, there is always a disconnect between what he means to say and what he's actually saying; the only question is how severe that disconnect is.

We compensate for this problem by conforming our patterns of thought to the meanings of language. Every time you talk or write or commit anything to language, you are rewiring your own brain to be more like the rest of the people around you. If it were not for this fact, language could never have developed and we'd all be very unique people without a single clue of what anyone else is thinking.

Where this starts becoming downright ugly is when society has a very primitive view on a certain subject compared with what's in your head. I know that "gamism" is a more useful term than "videogames", as it implies a cohesive whole rather than individual and disconnected parts. But I can't use that term in public, or no one would know what I was talking about. Language cannot be changed by one person, or even by several people, but only by a majority of the public in a given area. So whenever I'm talking to other people, I need to remind myself that videogames are not to be seen as a coherent entity, but just as a random assortment of unknowable things. Otherwise there's no communication. I'd say something like "I wish the Bit.Trip series would stay close to the music side of gamism, instead of switching Forms so much.", and no one would understand what the heck I was talking about. Different language, different thought patterns.

Learning two languages is like developing two personalities. You may think you're saying the same things in both languages, but that's only true if you don't use one of those languages enough to understand it. Each personality has its own worldview. Each personality has its own voice. Each personality forms different kinds of relationships with other people. And of course all of this reflects on who the person actually is, under all the learned behavior, but the more you wear a mask the more you become the mask.

Being fluent in two languages is reasonably commonplace. Some people know many more than two languages. Clearly the human brain has no problem with running different programs at different times. Now consider: how far away is that, really, from what we call "multiple personality disorder"?

"Ah," you say, still not seeing where I'm going with this, "but that's totally different. Learning two languages is a perfectly healthy thing to do. It's not a sickness, like multiple personalities.". Now remember what I said at the start of the post. Language matters. Your thought patterns have been shaped by the language you use. It's a "disorder"! It's something wrong! The brain is broken! "Disorder" is a word connected to a lack of health, a lack of normal brain functions, a lack of rationality, a lack of ability to change. It is a term which evokes pity. And it is not a word anyone with multiple personalities would have come up with, it's a word agreed upon by the majority, like all language.

Consider the appeal of the behavior: there are situations in your life which as a person, you are simply not equipped to handle. Your personality clashes with other personalities and leads to all sorts of uncomfortable situations. But if you were to put on a mask at those moments, suddenly you could deal with anything. Just pull out a different mask for different times, and suddenly you're a much more functional part of whatever part of society you try to enter.

Those readers who've paid attention to everything I've ever said on this blog (There are two of them, and they are imaginary.) will remember where I'm coming from here. I mentioned a while back in passing that at one point I'd considered developing multiple personalities myself. And it didn't occur to me, at the time, that this was not entirely my own idea. (Remember what I've said in the past about how none of my ideas are actually original?) So I wasn't using the psychological language, and my thought patterns were not corrupted by them. I was not thinking "I am on the verge of falling into a serious medical condition from which there's no easy cure.", because that's not what was going on at all. I was thinking "I am on the verge of making an important life decision, and I should consider whether it's necessary before going through with it."! My ultimate decision was that it was not necessary, and so I didn't go through with it. Not because it was "unhealthy" behavior, because there's nothing unhealthy about it, but purely because it seemed like too much work for too little purpose.

Imagine if I had made the opposite decision. You can be certain that I would have kept with that activity for the rest of my life, because I'm an exceedingly stubborn person. You might think I'd crack under some kind of mental pressure, but here I am on a Thursday having done nothing but work, write and eat and no one has reason to doubt that I'm going to stick with this "happy worker" identity for the rest of the day. Clearly I have no problem being a different person temporarily. If there were a term like "One-Day Identity Malfunction", you'd all be shocked and appalled that I'm acting differently on Thursdays (and Saturdays, for that matter), but there's no term like that so you just figure it's a rational thing to do. But multiple personality disorder? That you've heard of. So that's an illness. If I had "had" that (though really it's something you do, not something you have), everyone would be shocked when they first heard and then be really careful to not say anything offensive because this poor guy can't help it, he's just afflicted with the illness and needs help.

Clever readers will have guessed by now that what I'd actually like to talk about is Asperger's Syndrome. There are two ways to refer to it: "Asperger's Syndrome", and "Asperger's Disorder". That's it. Two choices, neither of which bears any resemblance to what it actually is. To tell people I'm different, I can't say "I am...", or even "I'm not...", I have to say "I have...", because that's the way our language for it is. To make matters worse, Asperger's Disorder is classified as a kind of "autism". For the very first time I met an autist a few weeks back, and now that I have I can say this with full certainty: I am not an autist. But who are you going to listen to, me or the profession that gave me my name?

Do you know who Asperger was? He was some normal pediatrician who wrote a paper about kids with what he called "psychopathy". This is who we're named after, and you'd better believe I find it offensive. But that's the only word for it! Either I use the psychologists' term, or I can't talk about who I am at all! Other people with Asperger's Syndrome ("With". Argh!), understanding that it's not something they have but something they are, call themselves "Aspies", which in my mind is the most moronic and juvenile-sounding name they could possibly have picked. When I want to talk about people like us, I usually say "Asperger people", which sounds so awkward that I feel ashamed for even suggesting that we exist. I wish there were another name I could grab onto, something which had no mention of some idiot pediatrician or of mental illnesses. But the closest I can find is "weirdo".

Let me be crystal clear: Asperger's Syndrome is not a disease, it is not a sickness, it is not a disorder, it is not a syndrome, it is not a problem, it is not a flaw. It is a kind of brain, a kind that is specialized for specific tasks. It's hard to allow yourself to understand this if you're used to the terminology. If it's a sickness then there ought to be a cure. The cure is to act more normal. But why on Earth would we want to do that?

When everything gets filtered through the lens of the word "disorder", everything is seen in terms of symptoms and inabilities. We're unable to understand what society wants of us, that's why we're so broken. We're incapable of forming emotional attachments, that's why we're so monstrous. We don't know that we're not supposed to always use big words and ideas, that's why we're so hard to get. We can't understand that we're not supposed to form emotional attachments to little points of interest, that's why we won't shut up about certain things. Forgive them, these poor sick patients, they can't help it. It's an incurable disease.

Listen to me very carefully. I know what society wants from me. I form emotional attachments to people. I understand simple chitchat. I have no illusions about how anti-social it is to get attached to ideas. I just don't care.

I understand sarcasm and metaphors, I know when people aren't being literal, but I prefer to always assume people are being literal so that there can be fewer misunderstandings. Normal people aren't any different, except that they don't care so much whether they're misunderstood because they place less value on ideas. I know that the whiskers on my face don't conform to the way society thinks a person should look in this century, I just place a much greater value on having my own unique appearance. If normal people understood the value of being different, they'd look like me too. I understand emotions, but I place more weight on them than most people and am not going to get emotionally attached to people who I know would let me down. And so on. There's no lack of understanding going on here, it's just a lack of reason to care. We're practically different species, normal people and us. What makes sense for them doesn't make sense for us. Normal people are capable of understanding this fact, but they don't care. "If it doesn't make sense, then make it make sense." It's their right to ignore our preferences, just as it's our right to ignore theirs. But there are more of them, so it's generally more unpleasant for us.

I should be able to find more people like me, but I can't because of the language. I know two people my age who are like me, and they both deny any connection to Asperger's Syndrome. And who can blame them? They want to be respected, they don't want to be seen as defectives. They don't want to have an illness.

So how am I supposed to meet such people? The only place I can find that they gather is in a "support group" in Jerusalem. Can you believe it? Even we've accepted the language now! "We're mentally ill, let's try to fix ourselves!" I wouldn't consider dating anyone who wasn't like me, but who'd advertise that they have an incurable illness? So how can I ever find a girl like me?

It's a rotten situation all around, and it's all because of two words. Think about that.

I have set for myself a gargantuan task for my life. It's one which a normal person would never consider for even the briefest moment. I'm going to keep jumping around from one Form to the next, each one a radically different way of thinking and communicating. And in each of those places I'm going to do something that hasn't been done before, because I don't care that the public has already said what they're interested in and that isn't it. No one is going to be supporting my progress, because they don't have a word for what I'm doing and if they did it'd be a dirty one.

So when I make up words like "gamism" and "Forms" and "metaludes" and "exploration game", it's because I need to control language. My path is not stable. If two wrong words could condemn a people to lives of lonely confusion, then two wrong words are certainly enough to jeopardize everything I've planned.

And now I know what those two words might be:

"Not game".

This lovely little phrase comes courtesy of the gamists called Tale of Tales. Let it be said that I have nothing but respect for their work, which includes The Graveyard and The Path (which I tried to interpret in an earlier post). Like me, they aspire to do things that the games industry has no interest in. They have been expanding the definition of "game" pretty far, though I don't know if that was a conscious goal for them.

Remember "Don't Miss", my idea from way back when for a pure exploration game? It was based on a dream (literal, not figurative) I had back then, and I wanted to be able to share it with other people in interactive form someday.

But in the back of my head there was always the voice of society criticizing me: "There's no name for this. No one wants it. It's barely a game." Well, it's not. Go away, this is a serious post. Sure it is. I don't have time for this, get lost. The point is, I was worried that by the time I was in a position to make it the definition of "game" would already be set in stone and there wouldn't be any room for this. And that would mean there's no audience. A gamer plays games. If it's not called a game, he won't play it. If it is, he will.

Tale of Tales gave me hope. They made The Path, which is as pure an exploration game as they come, and the whole internet took notice. Mainstream game sites were posting positive reviews of a pure exploration game! If they kept just doing what they were doing, that side of gamism would be there for me when I was ready for it.

They just wrote a blog post called "My New Year's Resolutions", in which a new mission statement is announced: from now on, they're going to call what they make "not games". They don't care if anyone accepts what they're doing anymore.

Here's how this is going to go. The game sites will continue talking about them for their next game or two, and then they'll absorb the word "notgame" into their consciousnesses and forget that Tale of Tales exists. There is no audience for "not games", there is an audience for "games". And don't you say to me "It's only a word.". Words matter, or have you not been listening? I don't exercise. But I play Wii Fit, because it's a game. I don't read books. But I play text adventures, because they're games. Words are not just tools, they shape thought patterns and behaviors. And damn it, they're using the wrong words!

The game I was working on in my grandparents' house -Angles and Circles? That's an exploration game too. And there's not going to be such a thing as an exploration game after that. That part of gamism is going to be demolished, same as the house. "Don't Miss" will never exist, because no artists and programmers from the game industry would work on something that's not a game. And even if they did work on it, no one would ever play it. Come around at last, have you? Get out! Get out get out get out! I never wanted you here! You weren't even supposed to be in this post, don't you think it's got enough ideas in it already? Get out, already!

Cool it. You are crazy, I get that. You are totally detached from reality and I'm sorry. Really I am. But I am the only shred of sanity you've still got in you. You need to listen to what I am saying to you. Your plans are unrealistic. They are cute little fantasies, and you've gotta grow up and get with the picture. This routine isn't funny, it isn't cute, it is fucked-up and pathetic. You need help. And I am trying to tell you that, and you tell me to get out. You want me to get out? Okay, man, I'll get out. I'll get out of here so fast you'll think it's yesterday. But I am telling you that you are going to regret that you threw out the only damn character on this blog and in your life who is telling you what you need to hear.

Get out.

I'm going. Chill.



Bl'bah. Okay, that's a really terrible place to end this post. No, it's just totally derailed. What was I even talking about.

5 Comments:

Tamir said:

You know, I've never thought of you as having a disorder or a syndrome. I've thought of you as simply different, just as lots of people are different. In fact, I feel as though what separates the two of us more than anything is our choices, not our thought patterns. For instance, that multiple personalities thing you mentioned? I adopted something of the sort myself. And many other times I've read things in your blog that seem like they're coming out of my own mind. But in the end, we care about different things.

Words are very significant indeed, even those we speak to ourselves. If this blog post represents a decision, then I wish you luck with it.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Great post.

At some point in high school I consciously and deliberately changed my personality to emulate one of my friends and be more self-confident and outgoing.

How you perceive yourself and how you interact with the world is always a conscious choice, and many people have different faces that they put on in different situations.

MP is actually a condition that is very different than just choosing to react in different ways. As far as I understand it (which could be wrong) it's not really a choice, and in fact sometimes these personalities are not even aware of each other. At least you know and are somewhat friendly with all your alternate world views.

Also I wanted to say that you've affected my web reading habits. Whenever I see any bolded text I have the need to hover over it and see if there's any alt-text. Damn you!

 Mory said:

:) I didn't realize anyone had ever noticed I did that! Sorry I'm not consistent with doing that; sometimes there's really nothing extra that needs to be said.

If multiple personalities are a deliberate and conscious choice as I hypothesize, how would anyone ever know it? It's not like the person doing the acting would ever break out of character. That would delegitimize the act for the rest of his life, undermining its usefulness! What I am saying is that psychologists, by rushing to the classification of "disorder" for whatever's strange, totally misinterpreted the nature of the situation. If I had gone one way in my life, I would have been exactly like those people today while being perfectly sane. It is reasonable for me to ask whether people who do act like that are sane too.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

I guess it all depends on your definition of "sane"

 Mory said:

Oh, and Avri: I didn't address your point that multiple personalities can be unaware of each other. My Barnaby has yet to meet my Ambrose and vice versa. When I am acting, there are many things going through my mind but none of them are a memory of the other character. However, I have a lot of distance from this lack of understanding, because as soon as I stop acting I can analyze what I've been doing and I'm myself again. But imagine that I didn't stop acting when I got off stage, but just kept going on and on between Barnaby and Ambrose for the rest of my life. Is it implausible to imagine that as I got more and more comfortable with the performance, they'd start acting more "real"? I might become very proficient at sorting my memories properly.

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Wednesday, January 06, 2010

My Father And I Go To See Avatar

I had no intention of seeing the movie Avatar until I found out that it was going to be shown in 3D here, which is a rarity. Typically only Hebrew-dubbed movies are shown in 3D, since it's seen as a gimmick for little kids. And I don't know, maybe I am a little kid - 3D sounds awesome to me.

I decided that I'd go to see it on a Monday. I'd take a bus to Jerusalem, take another bus to the theater I like (Rav Chen), watch the movie, take the buses back. Estimated total time: 7 hours. My family were out at a bar mitzvah for my American second cousin, and I didn't know when they'd be getting back, so I called and asked whether they had a key to the house. I was told that my father wanted to see Avatar too, and he'd had the impression that we were going to go together. Of course this was a better plan- it's not just that I'd appreciate to be driven, but I'd also prefer to see the movie with my father.

My father and I are very different, but one thing we have in common is that we like science-fiction. I only saw any Star Trek because while we were living in America my father taped every episode. (I only started watching them when we were here, and I watched them entirely out of order.) Likewise, I only ever saw Babylon 5 because my father had taped the first two seasons of that. (The first random episode I watched was The Coming of Shadows, which just so happened to be one of the best of the series.) And if I hadn't seen B5 it's a safe bet this blog here wouldn't exist, since that's what clued me in to the potential of long-form storytelling. So, credit where it's due: I'm a sci-fi guy because of my father, and for that I owe him.

Back in the 70s he watched the original Battlestar Galactica as appointment television. But upon moving to Israel in 1995, he was suddenly so busy with all the work he needed to do to make ends meet that he didn't have time for TV shows anymore. (Plus, none of the shows he watched were on TV here and we wouldn't be downloading shows off the internet for a few years.) So he watched little bits of Babylon 5 that I was watching, and I showed him a few key episodes of the Battlestar Galactica remake, while spoiling all the other developments for him since I knew he'd never have the time to actually watch through it. Other science-fiction he hasn't really been exposed to in the past 15 years.

It made sense that he'd want to see Avatar. So I waited for him to come home, instead of heading out myself.

That night we went to a Globus theater (Grrrr..) which is closer to us than Jerusalem and had also advertised that they were showing the film in 3D. I was concerned whether the experience would suffer due to Globus's inferior equipment, but my father was the driver so I went with it.

Along the way we talked about TV shows and how they wrap up when they're canceled. Naturally there was more of me talking than him, though he did say that Earth 2 was given an ending when it was canceled (I have yet to see that show.), and that Lost in Space probably wasn't. I said that the whole way they make shows is different now, since with DVD collections they expect you to be able to watch the whole thing through.

When we got there we asked for two tickets to Avatar, and were told: "There's no Avatar. There's a malfunction." Whatever that means. Just another reason to hate the theater. We regretted that we hadn't checked beforehand if it was working, but who thinks of something like that? We'd just have to try again some other time, in a different place.

As we drove back, we talked about time travel. My father once again said (He's said this to me a few times in the past.) that the trouble with time travel is that we ought to have heard of time-travelers by now if there are ever going to be time-travelers. I said the problem with time travel is that due to the movement of planets and space and the whole universe, if you stay in the same place but switch the time you end up in the middle of space. If you step into a time machine on the planet Earth, at whatever point you end up in Earth isn't there anymore. We talked about the ways to get around this, about whether there needed to be receivers, and for that matter whether transporters would need receivers too.

On Saturday night we tried again. Another family had gone on Thursday to the same place and found that it still wasn't working, so we went to Rav Chen in Jerusalem like I'd wanted to to begin with.

Along the way we talked about virtual reality and the implausibility of holodecks and I talked about all the current technologies that seem to be headed in that direction. My father was wondering what a really 3D movie would be like, where you're actually walking through it. This got me thinking about whether some sort of futuristic holograms could be used in stage shows, so that the live performers are playing on a changing 3D set. That really had nothing to do with what my father was talking about, though.

We got there and couldn't find a parking spot. It was packed. Finally my father gave me the money and told me to go get the tickets while he parked. So I went inside, where I found an absolute mob of people, all of whom had apparently come to see Avatar. There was only one ticket booth, with a mildly long line behind it. I went to get tickets and was told that the tickets had been sold out, but there were still some seats for a showing an hour and a half later. I couldn't commit to that on the spot, because then the movie would end considerably after midnight. In the first place I was concerned that my father would fall asleep in the middle if it went that late, and in the second place I knew he'd be concerned about driving while so tired. I hadn't taken my cell phone with me from home, so I got out of the line and waited for my father to show up. He came two minutes later and agreed that we'd go to the late showing. No sooner had we gotten in line, than a theater employee taped a sign up to the wall saying that both screenings of Avatar for the night had been sold out. My father seemed emotionally unwilling to admit defeat, but there was really nothing we could do. We left.

On the way back, I told my father about the TV show Lost, in appropriately vague terms. He seemed interested, so I told him I'd download the pilot for him. (I later tried downloading the pilot, and was frustrated to only find it in two separate video files. By splitting it up and putting a recap in the middle, they telegraphed a cool moment in the second part and ruined the pacing of the episode. I edited the two parts together myself so that if he watches it, he'll see it the way it was on TV as opposed to the way it was in reruns. No need for him to know I did that.)

On Tuesday we went again. I skipped Games Night for it, though due to Lorien giving birth it was in Ramat Beit Shemesh this week, so I'm not sure if I would have gone anyway. This time we were smarter. The day before, we ordered the tickets over the internet. It's more expensive that way, but you've got a guaranteed seat. You also get to choose which seat that is, from a diagram of all the seats that are still available. By Monday night all the good seats had already been claimed, and my father wondered if maybe we should pick a different night but not seriously because we both just wanted to see the movie already. We picked two seats which weren't in the middle but were the closest to the middle that we could get.

As we drove in, we listened to a CD my father bought a few years ago from "The Teaching Company" of lectures on argumentation. He'd listened to it before, but he was listening to it again. It was fascinating, to be sure. I didn't understand exactly what the lecturer was talking about at first, since we were starting from the middle, so we paused and my father explained the basics and then rewound to a part he wanted me to hear and then we listened from there until we got to the theater.

The movie was awesome. I needn't have worried that my father might fall asleep; there was no chance of that during this movie. The story was perfectly predictable and clichéd, but it was all done really well. And that world, in 3D... it was amazing. On the other hand, I did see what James Cameron (the director of Avatar) was saying when he said 24 frames per second (the standard for film) isn't enough for 3D movies. It definitely looked jerky. Still, it was quite a memorable experience. You see things from far away and it looks pretty standard for a movie, but then you move in and everything looks so real you feel like you could touch it. I wished they'd include smells and feelings, too. It's not a real alien jungle until they increase the humidity in the room for the scene, and pipe in some exotic but subtle smell. We'll get there someday. This movie was definitely a step in the right direction.

As we drove home we discussed the symbolism of the movie. Both of us agreed that it was a very good movie indeed.

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I enjoy Shabbat.

Previously:
Day of Wrest (26/3/2006)
God, I hate Shabbat.
Friends (01/12/2008)
Shabbat isn't bad at all if I have someone to talk to. Sure, it's not like the rest of the week, when I can watch five episodes of Felicity and read a bunch of comics and play piano and do an hour of database entry and work on my game (in roughly that order), but it's not bad at all.

Each Friday night, I get dressed in a white polo shirt and dress pants. I set the table, usually for four -me, my parents, and my youngest sister Dena. I skim the entertainment part of the newspaper. And then I sit and wait for a little bit and just relax.

My father comes home from shul, we sit at the table, we sing the songs which we've sung so many times that my harmonies never change anymore. There's something comforting about that familiarity. We start eating with soup, and I prefer my mother's tomato soup but her chicken soup isn't bad. It's always one or the other. For the actual meal my mother always makes something I'll eat. Usually chicken, which I don't mind.

We sing more songs, we bentsch, I leave. I have three places to go on a Friday night, so I try to spend as many of the hours before my 3:00 bedtime as I can on socializing. I don't get to socialize much during the week- just forums.

Avri lives next door, and I think by this point I can call him a friend. I give him comics, he runs the games nights, we're both extremely geeky, there's always what to talk about. Being a family man, he normally goes to sleep too early for me, so if I talk to him it's only in the day. A few doors away is the Feldmans, where there are three people who often are willing to talk to me (one of which doesn't seem to mind staying up until 3). If all else fails, I can always stand around outside the Feldmans' house for a few hours and wait for him to come home. (I guess I'm a little bit of a stalker, yes.) The Feldmans aren't really my friends, but they're convenient to have as a backup plan. A few blocks away are the Amitais, who I've discovered stay up pretty late some nights. I thought Nati was my friend, but he refuses to do anything at all that I ask him to. For instance, this past Shabbat his mother didn't want noise downstairs, and he wouldn't walk outside with me to talk. That's no friend. Still, there are three Amitais willing to talk to me, so they're convenient to know. Moshe is my best friend, and he lives the farthest away. After some searching I'm convinced that I've found the absolute fastest route to his apartment (17 minutes ordinary walking speed). He's not always there and he likes to go to sleep early but he'll make an exception when I'm there.

Between the four of them, it's quite easy to fill 25 hours.

There's really not more to the day than that. But it's usually pleasant. So much of the week is spent isolated and lonely. It's nice to have a day set aside for me where I know some people will have nothing better to be doing than talking to me.

My life would get kind of unbearable without Shabbat.

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

I'm actually kind of happy to see this post. I always thought there was a lot to like about Shabbat, and I'm glad you're seeing some of it. May you have many a good weekend.

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Friday, January 01, 2010

Thursday

I'm starting a new tradition.

Thursdays have been uneventful. I don't have rehearsals. There are no TV shows I watch on Wednesday, which would hit the internet the day after. The one thing that differentiates a Thursday is that Wednesday is new comics day, and Thursday is when many (not even most, but many) of the scans go up on the internet. So with nothing much to do, I wait around all day for new comics to come in, checking my sources every half hour or so. It's not a day I'd ever miss.

So Thursday is now my "Day of Work". Most of the week I keep for myself, Saturday is for God, and now Thursday is for future-me. Thursday will be entirely defined by restrictions:
  • No gaming. (Not even Wii Fit.)
  • No TV shows.
  • No movies.
  • No piano playing.
  • No comics.
  • No access to the web (even e-mail), with one very specific exception that will only be valid for the next month or two.


I decided that the workday should last from 4:00 AM to 8:00 PM, but now I'm thinking it should be a full 24 hours. The thing is, there's just so much to do! Why should it end so quickly? These activities in particular are appropriate for a Thursday:
  • Programming my current game
  • Doing design work for my next game
  • Writing down ideas for any future game
  • Practicing the play
  • Writing blog posts (This is the exception I mentioned earlier; I'm not even allowed to check the statistics of people viewing the blog!)


Taking a long time for lunch (say, an hour) is not encouraged, but will be tolerated.

These rules will be almost as inviolable as the rules of Shabbat. That is to say, if there is some specific social opportunity which I would miss by holding the principle of Thursday, I'm permitted to break the day entirely.

But! If for any reason a full Thursday is not observed, the Day of Work moves to the next full day (Sunday by default) with which there are no conflicts. There is no circumstance under which a week's Day of Work will be cancelled; if a full week passes and there is not a single opportunity (This seems unlikely -I'm not that busy a guy!) to reschedule the day, it doesn't go away. I just need to put that day whenever it becomes convenient. Theoretically I could get myself into a situation where every day of a certain week has to be a workday, but I'm going to try very hard to ensure that that never happens.

The first Thursday of this tradition (I almost wrote "experiment", but that would not be giving the proper respect to the day, which is going to go on for years.) was yesterday. It was a clear success. With no distractions, I got around five hours of work in on The March of Bulk, and still had time to write two blog posts! (The second I'm going to hold on to; it's not quite ready for publication yet.)

And then at 8:00 PM I went back to the nothing I usually do on Thursdays. This week there aren't any comics at all, so I watched an episode of Flash Gordon's Trip To Mars and played a little bit of Wii Fit. Then I read five months-worth of the Sluggy Freelance webcomic, which I'm still eight years behind on. And I waited for comics even though none were coming, just out of habit. And I kept going to the same five or six websites over and over, hoping they'd update.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

That sounds like a good tradition.

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Thursday, November 14, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..." And there's a game I play with a friend of mine, where I play something which sounds really serious on the piano, and then just as it's reaching its climax, I switch to this cheery little "space battle" theme, dah-bada-da-bada-da-da-da. So there could be a "space battle" track which sounds like epic science fiction music -"Like John Williams"- Yeah, exactly, and then that resolves, but then I keep sticking in these tracks in between the other music, which sounds like totally new and serious compositions, but always turn back into the goofy little classical theme. Then, at the end, there's another one of these, and the listener knows exactly where it's going. But it reaches the climax, and instead of going back to the usual punchline, it just leads to another climax, which is even bigger, and that leads to yet another climax, because it keeps just building and building and it's getting ridiculous. And then it turns into Brahms' Lullaby!- duh-duh DEH, duh-duh DEH -and it's got little hints of everything else in the album, and then at the end, when the listener isn't expecting it anymore, there's the last few notes of the space theme and that's the end of the album.

The idea is to have an album of humor, lots of different kinds of humor which work through the music, rather than just through the lyrics. It would be half instrumental and half with lyrics, but even when there are lyrics, there's funny stuff going on in the way the music is composed. That's something which I haven't seen before, and which I think there would be an audience for.

So? What do you think?



Whereupon he asked me: "Could you do stage shows?"

Well, yes, I guess so, I said, not sure what this had to do with the entire marketable vision that I'd just described. "You could do funny stage shows. That could be your thing. Like Victor Borge. People would love that. Just you on a stage with a piano, with all this inventiveness that you've got. Comedy with a grand piano. Or if you want something else to play with, I could get it for you."

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Mimic and Mix

Previously:
Creative Redundancy
If a piece of music isn't original, is it worth anything? I hope the answer is "yes", because I don't see almost any of what I compose as original. I always intend for it to be original when I'm starting out, but soon after (This can take anywhere between a half minute and a week.) I realize that it's exactly like three things I've heard many times before.
Math Story
There was a time when I looked forward to math tests, as one looks forward to a boss fight in an action game. I guess that'd be ninth grade. I never prepared for them in the usual sense, memorizing rules and revisiting notes. But I was always ready.

Many people have told me I'm a natural at music. At least one person has told me that I'm a natural at writing. And now one person (Tanya) has told me that I'm a natural at acting. Also, I tell myself that I'm a natural at games. I don't really believe that yet, but I'd like to.

I am not capable of believing that I'm a natural at so many things. For one thing, it seems to me like a natural would have original thoughts, since his talent is not coming from what he's been taught but from what he already has. That's not me: I have no original thoughts. My music is an imitation of everything I've ever heard. My writing is an imitation of everything I've ever read (which I'll grant you isn't much). My acting... look, Barnaby is a combination of a Muppet, some of my friends, and Fudgie. That's where all the mannerisms come from.

So it seems less likely to me that I'm a natural at any specific things, and more likely that I'm a natural at imitation in general.

There's got to be some specific part of the brain that pulls out the exact memory-fragments and ideas needed to solve a problem. I guess it's what I'd call the "fulfilling needs" kind of inspiration. That part of the brain must be a little bit more effective for me than most people. That's the simplest explanation, isn't it? I'm not naturally talented at anything, I just have a knack for learning.

That sounds strange when you consider what I was like at school. I never studied. I never listened to what the teachers were saying, even when the subject might interest me. I failed many of my tests. Whatever part of the brain internalizes things you're taught, I barely have that.

So I have to conclude that there are two distinct kinds of learning. There's learning where someone tells you something, and you remember it. And then there's learning where you see something in its proper context, and you mimic it. The first is a passive kind of learning, where you become a container for pre-baked ideas. The second is an active kind of learning, where you figure out the principles for yourself by trial and error. That's where I excel.

What crystallized this understanding for me was Ambrose. When I was in Illinois I kept going over his lines over and over and over again, just hoping that somewhere in my head it would make some sort of connection and I'd see what I was supposed to be doing with it. And when I went over it enough times, it seemed obvious to me that he was a Buddhist, though his parents were surely Christian. I don't know why this was so obvious to me, but the parts just fit together better that way. And then I needed an explanation for how he'd be exposed to Buddhism, so I remembered what Tanya had said about a different character in the play wandering around a lot, and that fit in, and then I needed to understand why this character who now represented some of the ideals Tanya was talking about would want to marry a simple girl, and suddenly a new character (who I named Eve) popped into my head who he must have met before the play began and who broke his heart, and if that was the case then really he'd have to have a crush on a different female character during the play...

See, this is how I think. If I look at something long enough, I suddenly see how it fits together with lots of random ideas which I've seen in other places. And this is natural to me. It didn't take me any effort at all to come up with this whole massive dramatic story of Ambrose (which ended up being bigger in scope than The Matchmaker itself), but when I fit all the pieces in place I felt like they were there all along and there was no other "correct" way to make sense of him. No part of the story is an original idea of mine, it's all smushed together from other stories I know; coming up with the story is not what I'm proud of. What I'm proud of is that I saw how all these random pieces fit together, purely by intuition.



And that provides a compelling argument for the case that I'm meant to make games. The problem I've always had with believing that is that it's so much easier for me to make music than it is to make games. If I'm gifted at music, and not at games, then I'm wasting my life pursuing games rather than music. But that's no problem at all, is it? I've heard so much music in my life, that I can continually pull fragments of other pieces out of my memory and weave them together. That's what I'm good at, after all: I take ideas, find the rules behind them, and mix them with other ideas based on that logic. But games, they're not so easy. I've never played games like the ones I'm making. The logic behind them is uncharted territory. That doesn't mean I can't piece together the logic, but it means that it's going to be a challenge. I can't take pre-baked ideas, I have to assemble the ideas out of their more basic ingredients. Each and every step of making a game is a challenge because the way I figure out what I'm doing there is by putting together everything I know about anything, and seeing what comes out.

Most people couldn't take those tiny steps at all. I can. And it's hard, yes.

I'm not sure if I'm making any sense here. Let me try to be clearer. I believe in the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. Theoretically you can extrapolate any principle from any context, it's just going to be easier or harder depending on the context. So you can figure out how to make a new kind of experience by piecing together the logic of all the old kinds of experiences, it's just very hard.

Smilie was an amalgamation of ideas from interactive dialogues and Tamagotchis and Looney Tunes cartoons and puppets and kittens and the fly-swatting game from Mario Paint for the SNES and probably dozens of other things in the back of my head. And I saw how to put together all those random elements to make something that's new, without even realizing (at the time) that I was mimicking all these things. That's the only way there is to find new parts of gamism, and it's so difficult that I'm one of the few who can do it at all.

I think that argument makes some sort of sense.

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Monday, December 28, 2009

Religion

Eliav, Tamir and Nati have all abandoned Judaism. They're only three people, but when you have as few friends as I do three of them feels like a lot. Now the only friend I have around my age who's still acting like a Jew is Moshe. He and I aren't going anywhere.

I'd like to act outraged and tell them this is ridiculous, but I'd feel like a hypocrite for doing so. Their worldview is just too similar to mine. I see religion as a long string of obligations, most of which don't appeal to me. Reciting pre-written prayers from a book is repetitive and dull. The holidays are just meaningless things you do every now and then and then get back to your life. The fasts are just something to put up with. On an intellectual level I can tell myself there's symbolic value to all the Jews doing the same thing at the same time, but that only makes me less interested. I'd rather hoard the glory for myself, not share it with millions of others.

So how can I say to my friends that they're wrong? I know perfectly well that humans are emotional, not rational. And the correct emotional response to religion is to reject it. Am I really naïve enough to think that anyone would listen to a rational argument when they have no emotional reason to do so? No, I'm not.

But here's the argument anyway. When God tells you to do something, you do it. You don't do it because you're getting something out of it, you do it because the creator of the universe wants it. And why would he/it want that? Because when a large portion of the world is doing things in his name, they become like a puddle reflecting him, each individual person a drop of water in that puddle. And puddles are pretty.

I'm not entirely sure I'm convincing myself with this argument, actually.

Religion is just something you do. Or rather, breaking it is just something you don't. There are lots of laws I don't follow, like praying three times a day. But those are the things I'm supposed to do. The laws which say not to do something, those I have no problem with. Because they're just rules. I'm good with rules. So I wouldn't even consider using electricity on Shabbat (even though everyone knows that's a silly law), or eating dairy less than six hours before eating meat, or eating bread without washing my hands first, or eating food without thanking God for it first. Any Jewish law phrased as a rule -"always do this before that" or "never do this"- those I have no problem following.

Really, is it so hard to just accept the rules? Damn it, I really do sound like a hypocrite. I'm holding onto tradition because it's something you do, not because I connect to it. But I should connect to it. Why did my friends have to abandon all this and leave me alone here? It was easier before. Damn them.

Back when I was in Yeshivah, our rabbi Yisrael Ariel (who I have a great deal of respect for) said in a lecture once that it's best to stay away from dissenting modes of thought. He said that only a small fraction of those exposed to outside ideas stay Jewish, so it's better not to be exposed to outside ideas. (I'm not misrepresenting him here, this is actually what he said.) And I thought to myself, what's wrong with him? What a kharedi attitude. And now I wish that the world actually worked like that.

The kharedim are closing in around us in Beit Shemesh. They're multiplying faster than we are, they're coming in from all over the world, and soon they'll be moving into our neighborhood and we'll have to move out. At least, that's how I've always seen it. But my friends leaving Judaism changes things for me. How can I criticize the kharedim for being so strict when this is the alternative? I agree with them that the modern world has gone too far, so how can I criticize them for imposing the old way on people? I'd be a hypocrite!

Would it really be terrible to have kharedim everywhere? To have girls dress more modestly? To be surrounded by people with as much distaste for money as myself? To have Judaism as a whole way of life, rather than just something sprinkled on top? It would be so much easier to have a connection to God if he were in everything we did. I agree with their beliefs! Other belief systems getting pushed aside, that would just make life simpler. I want life to be simpler.

And yet, I do resent the kharedim. Their way stifles emotions. But am I really naïve enough to think they'd care about emotions?

I'm not one of them. I come from a secular culture. I watch TV and read comics and play games and make games and I doubt many kharedim would respect any of that. But my own friends, who come from the same culture- I'm not one of them anymore either. I believe in God and the Torah and all the Jewish laws.

I'm not going to be like my older brother, who threw everything away and ran off to America and has been dating a Christian girl for years. I can't ignore God. But I'm also not going to be like those Yeshivah boys I knew who sat and learned g'marah like it was the most interesting thing they'd ever seen. I can't ignore my frustrations.

I'm right on the fence between two sides, and I think everyone expects me to fall one way or the other. But what's wrong with the fence? Why are you all leaving me alone here?

9 Comments:

Blogger John Silver said:

Fascinating read. Sounds like your religious struggle is really an identity struggle - recognising yourself (or not) in an emerging culture or in an established one.

Blogger Nati said:

This probably deserves a more serious response than what I'm groggily capable of now, but I thought it was interesting that you're considering yourself on the fence, because I consider myself on the fence. I felt like I had to move away from where I was born to make it to the fence. Why are you assuming we are born on it? It seems to me we're born way on the religious side, even if not exactly haredi yet.

I also actually agree with you, though it's a kind of broad statement so possibly not on the specifics, that the modern world has gone too far, but this is a notion you can very easily hold as a secular person. Being secular just means you use a way to deal with the world that isn't religion, not that you give up on spiritual awareness and cultivation.

It's a very interesting point you make about the haredi way of life. I, too, (sometimes) admire this idea of living a life utterly immersed in spirituality. The flipside, of course, is, as you imply, a kind of scorn for fun and emotion, and as you strikingly don't, an intellectual absolutism that causes immense suffering.

It's always a balance, I think, between spirituality and morality (for me spirituality involves fun too). One tends to come at the expense of the other if you're not careful. My conclusion was that the Jewish balance wasn't a good one and that I needed to try and get my own. The question I think you need to ask yourself - and I'm only allowing myself to ask this because the answer was until recently yes for me - is is Judaism enough? Because if it isn't, you may be shutting yourself off from something that is.

By the way, I honestly don't think Judaism is a bad option. I just think it's important you genuinely choose it rather than just continue what you were born into. I myself didn't feel I'd ever done that, though it's perfectly possible that one day I will.

 Mory said:

"Is Judaism enough?"

That's kind of a funny way of putting it. I hardly see how throwing away your only link to God is striving for more.

Blogger Nati said:

It isn't if it ends with throwing it out. Do you really think Judaism is the exclusive way of linking to God? Even when I was extremely relgious I never thought that. My point, which I understand you don't agree with, is that religion restricts your ability to connect to God by claiming to be so absolutely all-encompassing that it's pointless to even consider anything that ever happened anywhere outside of the Jewish arena. You even get the occasional fervently orthodox Jew who thinks this is misguided - Rambam and Rav Kook are the ones that spring immediately to mind. Gentiles and atheists have occasionally contributed things that weren't completely useless, and they didn't all lead a life of shallow licentousness.

 Mory said:

I'm sorry, I just don't see how abandoning one form of spirituality is the first step to finding another. Looking for spirituality wherever it might be is laudable, but that has to be on top of the commandments which are addressed to you personally, as a member of the Jewish race. If you yourself can point to examples of religious Jews who accepted outside ideas, it means that being open-minded does not preclude holding on to Orthodox laws and traditions!

 Mory said:

Regarding your earlier comments vis a vis the "fence" I consider myself on: When I was in Illinois my uncle said to me that all Jews consider themselves to be in the "middle". Everyone stricter than them is crazy, everyone less strict than them is a heretic. I told him that he's absolutely right, everyone more strict than me is crazy and everyone less strict than me is a heretic.

But regardless, I think it's fair to consider myself in the middle because I know I'd be very comfortable living either under kharedim or under khilonim (secular Israelis, for any non-Israelis reading). (I can say this with some certainty, having been in both religious and secular schools.) In both extremes of Jewish society I'd be just weird enough to be happy and get into interesting arguments, but not so weird that people might hate me. It's just this middle ground, with the two groups living side by side, that I'm uncomfortable with. I don't know which status quo I'm supposed to be rebelling from.

From my perspective you've already jumped off the fence on the khiloni side. If you're not keeping any Jewish laws then how is that still a part of your identity?

Blogger Nati said:

I think that Rambam and Rav Kook (I should probably qualify this by saying I actually know quite little about them) were going against the grain of Judaism, and, yes, that they might have gone on to bigger and better things if they tried to be a part of the world in general rather than just their insulated community. On the other hand, they did help to bring modern conventional Judaism closer to the themes I consider important, so maybe it's a good thing. But it's still kind of like improving the standards of a prison. Is the imprisonment even justified in the first place?

Also, I don't know about religious schools, but I think you're wrong in thinking you'd be accepted in haredi society. You'd be expected to spend your day learning and people would feel comfortable giving you a hard time about it. The tolerance you enjoy is a secular concept that's seeped into Modern Orthodox Judaism.

It's true, in retrospect, that I'm not really any longer on the fence. But I spent a few months there, deciding I don't accept Judaism as dogma but am holding it up for consideration, still keeping to its basic tenets while I make up my mind, which I then did, and now I think everybody should be free from religion, for reasons I'm not sure I fully understand myself and that I'm only trying to force down your throat because I get the impression you enjoy these arguments.

I still don't think I've explained where I think religion is harming you, but I've written too much to give up now. I guess if you're a pluralistic, scientific, completely free-minded observant Jew, then you're okay, but I just think that's no longer in the spirit of Judaism. I could carry on with all these commandments, but it just felt irrelevant to what I thought the world was about. I should probably have another go at this later. Thanks for tuning in.

Blogger John Silver said:

"I'm sorry, I just don't see how abandoning one form of spirituality is the first step to finding another."

Strikes me as obvious, really.

moshe said:

Mory, a bit of advice, never, I repeat Never discuss religion in this manner, all you get is a lot of trouble.

as every one has their own level of belief for an example by my scale you're a 7 I'm a 9 and so and so is -613. while on so and so scale, I'm a crazy religious nut, your just crazy and he is enlightened. just like your argument that communication via music and regular speech doesn't fit, so the scales between Jews and the rest of the world have little in common.

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Sunday, December 27, 2009

Stay out of my room.

I will not endure people being in my bedroom who I haven't specifically invited in. I am inflexible and obsessive on this point, and I make no apology for that.

There are a few problems with this attitude. First, there's a big closet in my room, and most of the clothes in it aren't mine. It's just seen by my family as a convenient storage space. Second, I like to be messy and my mother is a compulsive cleaner.

When I came back from America, my room was not as I'd left it. It was barely recognizable, actually. The floor with its unwanted clothes and dirty tissues had been cleaned up. The bottom bed with all its messy clothes and assorted odds and ends had been cleaned up. My bed had different sheets. (I'd had those sheets for around a year without ever cleaning them.) The top of the (unused) dresser with all its random junk had been cleaned up. The ceiling fan which I never ever turn off was off, and the string to turn it back on had ripped. When I first saw the damage, I was hurt but thought I'd be okay.

I was wrong. That night I got into bed and found that I couldn't sleep. Nothing felt right about the room, and the longer I lay down in that room the more disturbed it made me. It wasn't just the floor and the bottom bed and the shelves and the top of the dresser were different, though that was certainly enough to drive me crazy. The top bed I sleep on didn't feel like I remembered. Even the pillow had been changed, and that pillow has been there for years. I couldn't sleep in my own room on someone else's pillow!

I looked desperately around the room for the pillow but it wasn't there. I ran upstairs to see if I could find it around the laundry but it wasn't there either. At this point (and please keep in my mind that my emotional state was further exacerbated by tiredness and jet lag), I wanted nothing so much as to scream at my mother, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY PILLOW?". So I took a piece of paper and wrote a very rude note about how there must be something wrong with her if she couldn't let me come home to my own room the way I left it (when she knew I wouldn't approve of what she'd done), and I put the note on her keyboard so she'd see it in the morning.

But that wasn't enough. When I went back to my room, I still couldn't sleep. The bed was all wrong and the floor was all wrong and the lower bed had everything in neat little piles where I'd never find anything because in the old mess I knew where everything was and now all the random clothes I'd never wear were together. It was all wrong! That was barely my room anymore! I picked up all the clothes on the bed, and started throwing them around the room. So it wasn't like it was before, but at least it was messy again. At least I could pretend that this was still my room.

(This kind of event is known as a "meltdown".)

The next morning I'd calmed down, and went to apologize to my mother. But she apologized first, and gave me my old worn-down pillow back. So while my room was still very wrong right now, it would be better.

Later that day my father got brought into the argument. Unfortunately for me my father is every bit as stubborn as I am. He repeated over and over that there are rules in this house which need to be followed, like not having dirty tissues on the floor and dusting and vacuuming regularly, which are done for the sake of health, and since I won't do these things myself they "need" to come in and do it for me. And I repeated over and over that they were to stay out of my room, and that this was non-negotiable. We didn't get anywhere.

Things settled down. I put most of the clothes from my floor back onto the lower bed. I slept well.

A week later, I came back from Games Night and found that my floor was distinctly cleaner than it had been. The backpack I'd taken with me on the plane was gone, and a pair of pants that I'd left on the floor was on the lower bed. Again I couldn't sleep, so infuriated that someone would go into my room while I was out and mess with my mess. I considered banging on my parents' door, waking them up so that I could start yelling at them, but I realized that would also wake Dena up, and I didn't want that.

I lay in bed unable to sleep, trying to figure out how I could prevent this from being a regular occurrence. Could I lock the door? No, it's just a skeleton key, and my parents have a skeleton key. Could I switch the locks to something more secure? No, I don't know the first thing about locks. That would get complicated, I think. Plus, they'd most likely steal the key and copy it, and then what would I do? Could I block the door?

I could block the door. I got out of bed and moved what was left on the dresser to the floor. Then I started pushing the dresser toward the door and didn't stop until the entrance to the room was blocked.

The bed is next to the door along the wall. The dresser is along the other wall, and next to it is the garbage where I throw all my dirty (and sometimes bloody) tissues (and usually miss). In between the two is the way in, and that's where my dresser is now. There are only two ways in now, short of moving furniture: climb onto the (elevated) bed and drop down, or climb over the dresser. I figure my parents would be much less comfortable climbing around than I am, not least because of their age. And if (over time) I get slightly stronger limbs out of the bargain, no problem.

Once I'd set this up, I was able to sleep again.

That day my father and I got into an argument, because he'd been the one in my room. He wanted a shirt that was in my closet, and while he was there he noticed things that belonged to him and took them. I tried to tell him that this was unacceptable, that if he wanted something from my room he'd have to ask me for them, and that if I was out of the house he was out of luck. And he tried to tell me that the room needs to be clean, that I need to keep my clothes folded and in piles, etc. etc. And I said the argument wasn't about his silly rules, it was about them not going into my room. We could discuss me taking out dirty tissues occasionally, or even vacuuming every now and then, but first they needed to promise me that they would stay the hell out of my room. My father agreed.

There haven't been any more fights since then. I've kept the dresser in place, because I don't trust my parents. So the layout of the room is different, but it's my room again. So I'm content.

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After December 08, 2009

Illinois

The story of Illinois is written in nine parts, covering the time period between November 23 and December 07.

Many Excuses

I want to get new inspiration for my games.
I need to get away from all my usual distractions and habits.
This will be just like old times.
I planned this a long time ago,
and it seemed to make sense at the time.
I don't know why I'm going, but it feels right.
I need to stop planning everything out, and just live for a little bit.
I ought to get Variations On V.O.V. finished already.
I haven't seen my grandparents in a while.
It'll be nice to be in a country where everyone speaks English.
The weather's too hot here.
I'd like a real winter, with rain and snow.
In America, I'll be able to buy new games.
This is just a crazy random occurrence,
for which I have neither explanation nor enthusiasm.

I didn't want to miss what might be my last chance to spend some time in my grandparents' house. The truth is, it was always about the house.

"Don't Miss" tour uninterrupted

The driveway is a circle going around a tree, and the house next to it is roughly a right angle. The side door is to the north, and straight ahead to the east is the main entrance. Now, truthfully it's usually the side door we use, which leads to the laundry room and the kitchen and a guest room where my parents always stayed on our visits, none of those small rooms being much to look at. But the main entrance is a different matter.

The two large doors open to a narrow hallway, one stair down and to the east of which is the living room, a big square room with much furniture (including an elegant wood-and-glass coffee table) which despite the name doesn't look lived in at all. At the end of the living room (still east) is a window the length of the room (though in several panes), from which you can see down and to the east into the patio. Down and to the east of that is the rest of the backyard, where squirrels try to steal food from birds on the many trees and deer pass by every morning wearing tracking collars. At the edge of the backyard (still east) is a sudden cliff. Down that cliff and to the east is Lake Michigan, which goes on and on as far as the eye can see. That's what you'd see straight in front of you, upon entering my grandparents' house.

(I am writing these words into a small notepad with a pen, both of which I brought with me from Israel. I'm hunched over the side of the coffee table, my head a few inches from the paper and my right leg under the table. The lake is a beautiful shade of teal today, and there are just a few leaves still on the trees.)

The location of the house, I've realized, accounts for more of the appeal than I'd realized. Almost all the windows face east, where no matter how hard you look you won't see a hint of civilization. It's like this is the only house in the world.

Most of the rooms are modestly sized, at least by the extravagant standards of America. There are narrow hallways and staircases, a smallish kitchen and dining room, and one tiny bathroom where all the walls are mirrors. It's not like those houses where it takes longer to get from one room to the next than it ought to, just because the owners like seeing lots of empty space. But there is a big exception to this rule, and that's the basement. The basement is downright enormous.

There's a pool table there, which was regularly in use when my cousins and their cousins were over for Shabbat. (I've improved tremendously, though perhaps that's not saying much.) And that's just a little corner of the room. There are three brown poles holding up the ceiling, of the sort that just beg you to run around them until you get dizzy. One of the poles is in a very inconvenient spot, where it prevents any pool shots of a particular angle. The room also has two ancient arcade machines that don't work anymore, and an ancient TV connected to a working Nintendo 64 which has only one game (Mario Kart 64). Random pieces of furniture are scattered through the room, some of which are meant to be there and the rest moved there from upstairs on the real estate agent's recommendation in order to make those rooms seem bigger. And by the north wall is the piano, which (I imagine) hasn't been touched since last I was here.

My grandparents were afraid they'd have to tune it, but to my ears it sounded great. It has a very timid sound to it, and the more bombastic things I play in the bass sound a bit false on it! On the other hand, all dissonance is unusually palatable on it, and the more new-age stuff sounds really cool and ethereal. The third piece I ever composed, I made specifically for this piano.

Right over the TV but one floor up is my room. I had my choice of room, and there are nicer ones, but there was never any question that I was sleeping there. The room actually has two beds, two desks, two closets, etc., but there's a divider that closes to split it into two separate rooms. Way back when we were little kids, Benjy would get the north side and I'd get the south side. Now the north side has a laptop computer in it, but that's not my side. Mine is the side with the 8-Track player. The drawers have photos my Uncle Perry took, developed downstairs in what used to be a dark room but is now a bathroom. The shelves I remember being filled with books, but now they're all empty. (The real estate agent's recommendation.) And as it turns out, by the wall there's a pad of the most perfectly-sized paper for what I've planned, which has just been sitting there unused for years.

The bedrooms are right to the south of the main entrance, but they're hidden from view behind a wall, which I think is pretty clever design. You only see the hallway by turning around the corner. If you go down that hallway in the other direction, it leads to the kitchen and the dining room and the den.

I'm not spending much time in the den this trip, because it's the room with the TV, but when everyone was over they were spending most of their time there for the same reason. (This actually worked out pretty nicely; I didn't particularly want to see them.) There's a fireplace there, which I might not have ever noticed before even though it's very prominent because I don't notice much of anything unless I'm looking. The wall the fireplace is on is covered in hand-cut stones, which does seem like the sort of thing that would go around a fireplace, no? My grandfather pointed out the quality of the "miter work" done there, and I don't even know what that means but apparently that was the first thing he noticed when he first saw the house back in the 1950s and it greatly impressed him. "That's fine craftsmanship!", he told me. "They don't make 'em like that anymore."

At the corner of the den is a door that leads out to the backyard. Right outside that is my grandfather's grill, which has enough of an awning over it that he wouldn't get wet in the rain, but it still gets awfully cold out there. The backyard technically goes all the way around to the front of the house on both sides, with a forest to the north too thick (and on terrain too uneven) to walk through. In the northeast corner of the yard is a path through the trees which is steep and narrow and goes on for longer than you'd think, passing a small stream to end up at the beach. The beach is usually boring, but that path is awesome. At every step I see how far it goes down to my left and my right, and it seems like there are lots of interesting spots to sit in down there, but of course it's much too dangerous to go to any of them because the ground is slippery and it's all really high up. So I look, and try to picture what the area would look like from there.

I was waiting for more than a week for snow. The forecasters said there'd be snow for Thanksgiving, but there wasn't. Each morning I looked out my window to the east and was disappointed anew. But then one morning I looked out and everything was white. I took a shower and had breakfast before going out, which was a mistake. By the time I got out there it was already drying up. I quickly but carefully went down the path to the lake, because I'd never seen a snow-covered beach before. And what a sight it was! The waves to the left, the snow to the right. The snow ended abruptly at the random curves where waves hit, so there was a clear division between sand and snow. And that went on ahead off into the distance, where there was smoke coming up from the ground for some reason I couldn't discern. Up above the sun just barely shone through the thick clouds. I stood there and looked for a while, trying to burn the image into my head.

Addictions

One day I wandered through the den and found a largish group of my cousins and their cousins watching the Get Smart movie on TV. "Is it any good?" "No." was the unanimous response. "Then why are you watching it?" And my aunt responded: "Because it's on, and we're here."

On any other trip, that would be me. But not this time. I made a promise to myself before I came. I promised that I wasn't going to get pulled into the same patterns as before. No distractions this time. I have a big piece of paper, and I have a pencil. That ought to be enough to keep me busy for the short time I have here.

I know that if I were ever to turn on the TV, I wouldn't be turning it off. That would be my activity for the remainder of the day, regardless of what's actually on TV, just because it's easy and visually stimulating. I know this from previous experiences with TV, and I guess it's not too hard for me to deal with this problem because it's been three years since I've turned on a TV anyway. There's no real habit to break, I just need to prevent myself from building that habit to begin with.

So when my grandparents are watching TV, I go somewhere else. Usually downstairs, or to my room. The living room is a bit of a problem because it's right next to the den so I hear every word of whatever they're watching. (Angles and Circles I draw in the living room, but I've got a few other things to work on.)

Sometimes I slip. Once they were in the middle of watching Mythbusters, which is a show I like, and I said to myself "What's the harm in watching half an episode?" so I did. And sometimes it's late and I really should be getting to sleep, but my grandparents are watching the news so I stick around and watch. I don't even like watching the news. Lately all they've been talking about is two nobodys who went to a party. Seriously, this is the quality of American news. But it doesn't matter what's on. It's TV, it's there to be watched.

There was a Mythbusters marathon around Thanksgiving, which my cousins were watching. I stayed away from that altogether, because I can't make the excuse of "just one episode". And once they were watching The Office, and I've watched every episode of The Office but I resisted the urge to rewatch. And you have no idea how tempting it was to turn on the TV on Tuesday night to see the latest V, but if V then why not Fringe and Flashforward and The Simpsons and House and How I Met Your Mother... my life would suddenly revolve around TV schedules. I've come here for only two weeks. That's much less time than I thought I'd get. I can't waste it like that, as much as I'd like to.

So for the most part I've managed to avoid TV. If you added up all the TV I've watched here so far (including the news, and wandering through the room as someone else is watching), I'm sure it wouldn't exceed an hour. But like I said, watching TV on an actual TV isn't really a habit for me. I download all my shows. It's where I do have recent habits where I've got real problems, and it's so much more pleasant to focus on the TV, which I've been doing a good job with, than it is to focus on them.

When I left Israel, I promised myself that there would be no distractions. That means no TV, but it also means no comics, no web-browsing, and above all no piano improvisation. If I'm going to finish the sketch for Angles and Circles in two weeks, I can't afford to indulge in any of those. And I've slipped up plenty.

Not comics, thankfully. At home I'm always checking the scanners' forums waiting for the new comics to be scanned. But I haven't read any comic books here, because that requires specialized software. It would take me all of five minutes to install the program on the decade-old laptop in my room (or fifteen minutes, if it's being uncooperative), but I can't justify taking that first step. There's no possible use for the program other than reading comics.

There's certainly more to do with a computer, though, even one with Windows ME that keeps crashing for no apparent reason. So that I can't stay away from. The TV's in the den, and I can stay out of the room entirely. But I can't stay out of my own room, and the computer's much too useful to move away. One of my notepads is for the blog: in the front I write notes for the trip, and in the back I summarize every blog post I've ever written. That's something I've been meaning to do for months, and this is the perfect opportunity for it. This is actual work to do, and it requires me to be on the internet. And as long as I'm already in the browser I might as well check my mail, and as long as I'm doing all that why not also check if anyone's been reading my blog? And as long as I've already got three tabs open why not a fourth? And a fifth? And if there's a link on that fifth page, why not check it out and come right back? And if there turns out to be an interesting link on that page.…

Internet, sometimes I hate you.

So I haven't read any comics, but I've spent plenty of time reading about comics. Just review upon review upon review of comics that I won't get to read until I'm back. I don't know why I find reviews so entertaining. And I haven't played any games, but I've read plenty of blogs about games. And I've read Twitter pages and entertainment news sites. And this is after all the restrictions I placed on myself: no forums, none of the blogs I read regularly, no writing on my blog, no comic piracy sites. But when I come up with a perfectly valid excuse like "I haven't checked my mail in a few hours, maybe someone wrote me.", it's hard to see that there's a problem until it's hours later and I've gotten nothing done.


But that's not nearly as bad as music. I have a real problem with music. A week before I came, it occurred to me that if I want to be a gamist I'll have to be a musician less, and that this could be a good opportunity to try that. All I needed to do was promise myself to never touch a piano for two weeks. I can do that, can't I? I wrote up a letter to my grandfather, asking if he'd be offended if I didn't ever play on their piano. And then I erased what I'd written. If I don't let myself play piano, I can't get myself to finish Variations on V.O.V. while I'm there! And besides, other people like hearing my music. What would I do if they asked me to play, just say "Well, I've decided to abstain from playing piano, on the grounds that I'm too much a natural at it."? I would sound crazy and they might be disappointed. Actually, that's not proving to be much of an issue, since no one seems to care too much if I play or not. People say "That was really nice.", but only from listening upstairs. They never come down to hear me better.

But I'm not supposed to care if people don't hear my music, I'm supposed to be working on games. And because I decided a week before coming that I shouldn't prevent myself from playing, playing is almost all I do here. I pace around a few steps trying to figure out how to do something in Angles and Circles, then decide I don't know yet and run down to the piano so that I can play for a few hours. If I had promised myself not to play, I'd be a gamist now like I'm supposed to be. I'd already be done with Angles and Circles, I'd be halfway through the script for Next Door, I might have even come up with a bunch of new ideas, or started on the design document for Through the Wind. I'll never know, because by not restricting my music I guaranteed that music would come first and games second.

And now I'm seeing that that decision might have repercussions later. I hope this CD thing doesn't pull me too far off course.

Back to Nonazang

If you get so lost that you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and then go 13 miles past that, you will reach Nonazang. It's the most empty place imaginable, in which nothing ever happened and nothing ever will. Be sure to bring some paper with you.



On the first day I got here, I was messing around on the piano when my grandfather came in. I played some of my latest music for him, and he asked if I remembered what I'd played at my bar mitzvah. As an answer I halfheartedly played the theme from the very first piano piece I ever composed (which my piano teacher at the time named Celebration), but told him that I'd long since forgotten the majority of the piece because I was embarrassed by it. It was just a bad imitation of Bach, after all. He told me he had a videotape of my bar mitzvah. Would I like to see it? Heck yes.

The past shows how far you've come. You can look at it and laugh, and say "I was like that once?", and understand how much better you are now.

We hurried into my grandfather's study, a room that always smells of pipe tobacco no matter how long the window is left open. The desk in the corner surrounds a chair on three sides, one of those sides holding an old computer. Across from that is an antique chess board, which hasn't been played with in so long that the pieces have cobwebs between them. Between the door and the big bookshelf (filled mainly with political thrillers) is a massage chair; I've never really understood the appeal of those. And in the middle of the room, across from a couch, is a small TV and a radio which is usually on playing classical music. Under the VCR, my grandfather pulled open drawers filled with videos until we got to the very last drawer and found the one marked "Mory's Bar Mitzvah 2001".

It was a long recital. I'd only remembered playing my own piece, I didn't remember playing all the rest. It was all the pieces I'd learned in my piano lessons, apparently. And it wasn't what I expected. Sure, I had little control over dynamics. Sure, I sped up and slowed down at random points. Sure, at some points I got so stuck and confused that I needed to pause for ten seconds, go back and try again. But I knew what I was doing. It was clear to me, as it must have been clear to everyone in that room, that I did in fact understand what I was playing. It wasn't just notes, it was questions and answers and agreements and rebuttals and gentle happiness and bitter sadness and little me was swinging around with his whole body like he was just surrendering himself to the music and didn't notice or care how many people were watching. The kind of understanding I displayed in that video is the kind that you can't be taught, you just learn for yourself. And along with that, it was unbelievably amateurish. But somehow I didn't care. I've been taught quite a lot since then, but little me was my equal in all the ways that matter.

And then my own composition. It's a good piece.

I can certainly see why I stopped playing it. The left hand often just plays octaves, it repeats itself without changing anything, the structure is so disjointed it might as well be two separate pieces. But I'll be damned if I didn't find it fun to listen to. There's an energy there, an enthusiasm for doing something new and not having a rulebook in front of me but just feeling it out as I go. To call it a bad imitation of Bach would be grossly inaccurate, for many reasons. First off, it doesn't really follow classical music theory. Secondly, there's a point where it reaches a natural conclusion and then starts a totally different theme, in a style that's absolutely nothing like Bach. It sounds classical (rather than baroque), and then there's something that sounds like some sort of New Age chorus where it's just fun to play and who cares about subtlety. And then when I got tired of that second theme, I slowly switched back to the first one and gave that a second ending. It's nuts, sure. But it's unpredictable and fun. I was an idiot to forget it.

A few days later, I went to my grandfather's study again and put the tape back in. I ran back and forth between the study and the piano, and piece by piece I relearned my old composition.

It's a problematic piece from many angles. I saw that at once when I played through the whole thing. I don't know if I'd necessarily want to play it for anyone else. For a few seconds I considered rewriting it. But only for a few seconds. It is what it is and the lack of maturity is just a part of its quirky charm. And I don't need to play it for anyone other than myself.

I must have started that composition in sixth grade. That was a time where it felt like nothing had ever happened to me, and nothing ever would. So I needed to entertain myself, and that's how this whole composition habit started. It seems like a whole different world. Nowadays, I'm normally in the luxurious position of being able to get whatever kind of entertainment I want, whenever I want it. So there's no longer much need to entertain myself.

That's what this trip changes. Without my big sheet of paper, my life here would be pointless. So I need to find the point for myself.

Let me be clear: there is nothing on the paper except scribbles. There are angles, and there are circles, and that's about it. I think most people would not be impressed. But at the same time I have no doubt that if I were to show it to sixth-grade me, he'd approve. It would remind him of all the random lines he'd drawn on papers in school, to distract himself from the mind-numbing tedium. Except, those were small-scale. This here is the dream. A big world of static shapes in some sort of epic struggle. There's an uncertainty to drawing this game, but there's also a specific kind of joy I vaguely remember from way back. There's no rulebook for what I'm doing, just intuition.

So naturally it's imperfect. Some sections of the game world are going to be much bigger than others. Lots of ideas are getting repeated without adding much of a different spin each time. But I think that's going to be part of the quirky charm of it. Like it or not, this is a world which could only come out of this particular time and place. Because in this increasingly empty house, whose prime (I suspect) was decades ago, I'm tapping into a very specific energy. I look out the quiet living room through that window that says there's nothing else on Earth, and when I look back down at the paper I know exactly where to go next.



If you get so lost that you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and then go 13 miles past that, you will reach Nonazang. It's the most empty place imaginable, in which nothing ever happened and nothing ever will. Be sure to bring some paper with you. You may impress yourself.

IAM not

I have a first cousin twice removed who I call Uncle Pep. (We call him an "uncle" because he grew up like he was my grandfather's brother.) He's 83 years old, which is kind of hard to believe because he's always out doing things. He's the sort of person who can adapt to any situation and just run with it, and that's served him very well in his many fields of business. So he's accumulated a lot of money over the years, much of which he donated to Columbia College in Chicago. He's a member of the board there.

A few years ago he was in Israel as part of an effort to help the Bnei Menashe in India move to Israel. (It's a long story.) The head of Columbia College's film department, a guy named Bruis, came with him because he was filming a documentary about the work Uncle Pep was doing. I met him then, so I knew about Columbia College and that it had a videogame program.

When Uncle Pep asked if I'd like a tour of the place, I said yes. I didn't have any intention of learning there, but I was certainly curious to see it.

He drove me into Chicago on Sunday. He's blind in one eye, and the other is weak, but he's still capable of driving. (He said he watches the white lines on the ground.) As we drove in, he told me about the logical numbering of the streets relative to the center of town, and I said it seemed like making the order of things so rigid and precise would limit the place's character.

But I was wrong- Chicago has tons of character. Massive skyscrapers are all over the place, so that even though the roads are very large they feel a bit tiny by comparison. Lots of radically different kinds of architecture are standing next to each other, so that the overall impression is one of utter anarchy, but if you look at any particular building chances are you'll be very impressed. Uncle Pep pointed out all the points of interest as we passed them.

At the school, we first looked in at what the art students had on display. They'd put up an exhibit about religion, and it didn't surprise me to find that most of them were mocking religion rather than supporting it. (It's a cliché for college students to say that religion is a comfortable lie, but at least they were finding new and interesting ways to say it.) There was one piece I liked, with lots of little white sheep figures laid around on the floor and bombs dangling from strings.

Then we went to the film department, where whoever we came across immediately threw down whatever they were doing as soon as Uncle Pep entered the room. He was being treated like royalty, and it made me a bit uncomfortable. It turned out that there had been a misunderstanding, and they'd gotten a student ready to show me the film department, which I'm sure is very impressive but wasn't what I came for. So they called the game division, and they quickly got someone who knows the place well and would be willing to show me around.

They call it IAM, which is short for Interactive Arts and Media. I find that name so funny, because music is an "interactive art or medium" last time I checked and that's a whole different branch of the school. The game students could learn something from them, I'm sure. Well, it's unreasonable to expect everyone to be as radical as me.

The guy showing me around (I've forgotten what his name was.) described the format of the program. The game designers who plan out everything beforehand are kept separate from the game designers who prototype and figure it out as they go along. I told him that that's strange to me, because my first game was all planned out and my second I needed to figure out as I programmed. Different kinds of games need different kinds of design. But that's how it's divided.

They've got all sorts of state-of-the-art facilities, most of which didn't impress me. There's a recording booth for voice acting, there's a motion capture studio (which is shared with the film department), there's lots of rooms filled with huge screens and drawing tablets, etc. But there were two things that did impress me. First, they have a room where they make hardware. So if a design student wants a specialized controller, he can make it. And in that room is a 3D printer, which is just one of the tools they use for doing that. ("3D printer" as in it prints out 3D objects.)

The other thing that impressed me was in a smaller room: eye-tracking technology. You look at the screen, and it sees exactly what point on the screen you're looking at. Now, my first instinct is to use that to focus the camera, so that it's like you're looking through a window into another world. (I wonder if it's precise enough for that. It probably is.) But that's not what they're using it for at all. They're using it so that they can analyze the players of the game later and try to figure out what they were thinking. That's really clever; I would never have thought of using it like that. They're doing this for the American government, actually. Long story, but it's really cool.

After the whole tour of the facilities, and his description of how they work (which surprisingly made sense), he asked if I had any questions. I did, but I wasn't sure how to phrase it. I wanted to know how they can cram all of gamism into one curriculum. How to ask that.. I asked him if it's one teacher grading all the projects, whether it's a text adventure or a music game or an action game or an RPG. He said no, the music game would be graded by their sound guy (an accomplished composer, apparently), and the action game would be graded by someone with experience making action games, and they don't have anyone who does adventures but there's someone they're trying to hire. I asked him who grades the projects that are weird hybrids of lots of different kinds of games, and he said they're always looking for someone like that but a person who's an expert in everything doesn't exactly exist.

I walked away from that building impressed that they do, to some extent, know what they're doing. People will come out of this program and go straight into the game industry, and understand how to work in teams and how to do all sorts of technical work for games and maybe even how to design the kinds of games that they want to make. So this program is something to be respected.

We went back to the film building to say hi to Bruis, who hadn't been there earlier. We went into his office, and he and I chatted about games and where they're headed. He asked me what kinds of games I make, and I told him how the first one was just a character and the second was a strategy game and the third is a movement game and the fourth will be an exploration game and I want to just keep jumping from one art form to the next. And he seemed very interested, not just the kind of faux-interest that you do to be polite. He said that it sounded like I was thinking "as much about the experience as about the game". I still don't understand what he meant by that. But anyway, we talked about independent games and how with the rise of the internet those are becoming more realistic, if only as a second job after an ordinary one to pay the bills. I name-dropped a whole bunch of indie games like The Path and Small Worlds, and he said he'd heard of them though he'd never played them. I'm not entirely sure why he seemed to know so much about games. I guess it's because there's such a crossover between film and games at Columbia College.

Then he was talking with Uncle Pep about some new building they're building, and the financial aspect of that. And then I asked him my final question: "Considering that I'm kind of on the side of what the game industry is doing, would I get anything out of learning here?" He was surprised by the question and had to think about it - this really was just a friendly chat and not a sales pitch. He said to me that maybe I wouldn't get anything out of it, and he'd rather be honest than have someone come to the school and then realize they don't want to be there. He's a cool guy, that Bruis. When we got up to leave, he realized that we'd been talking for way too long and he was late for something or other.

Uncle Pep and I drove to his house, so that we could pick up Aunt Paula for dinner. Aunt Paula has Parkinson's - she used to be in the middle of writing a book, but now she just thinks she'll finish her book soon and can't really work on it. When I saw her she was shaking around a lot but was very coherent in conversation. As she was getting ready to go, I noticed the upright piano in the corner and asked if I could play.

I improvised for a while, and then Uncle Pep asked if I'd play something I'd actually composed, so I did. It's an awful piano, horribly out of tune, but I did what I could with it. Aunt Paula good-naturedly asked if I'd shown them how I play at Columbia College. Uncle Pep said that he'd like it if for his 84th birthday I'd record a CD for him. He said to me, I just need to find out where there's a good, professional recording studio in Israel, and how much it costs, and he'll send the money. I told him it sounded like I'd be getting the better end of that deal, but he laughed. He said to call the CD "Happy 84th Birthday, Uncle Pep".


I do have what to play for a CD.. first the innocent piece, then the one that keeps wandering, then the classical one, then the new one, then "Dots and Curves", then…

My American Brethren

It's a half-hour walk from the house to the Chabad orthodox shul. The first Shabbat here, I walked there with my uncle and his sons (who were here for Thanksgiving) and their uncle and his children (who were here to see their cousins, I think). I mostly stood apart from the others, because the sidewalks were too narrow for more than two people side-by-side, but I hovered near them in case there were ever an opening in the conversation. I especially tried to stay close to the girl, because she's been to our house in Israel so I thought this might be a girl who's more likely than most to talk to me in a simple conversation.

When we got to the shul, we were welcomed by the rabbi (who knew my father) and sat down in the back. (As it's an Orthodox shul, the women sit separately.) I noticed that there were very few young people in the room. That's not a good sign, though I shouldn't be judging- I never go to shul back at home myself. It's just not a good sign because it means this congregation is ultimately temporary. There were a few unfamiliar tunes in the prayers, but it was still quite a relief after the previous night. These here were my people. Not like those other ones.

After the Torah reading (for which I was called up), the rabbi gave a ten-minute speech which was entirely focused on one word: "akhai", "my brothers". This word was used by Ya'akov to address total strangers. The rabbi is a good speaker and by the end of it I was thinking: "You know, he's right. I've been treating people like they're alien to me, when these are my people. My family, even. I should be treating these people like siblings." And then I considered how I dealt with actual siblings like Miriam, and I no longer had a problem with considering myself separate from others.

As we walked back, I listened to what my female cousin-squared was saying, and I was ashamed for having been attracted to her. She accepted social norms so willingly! She was casually talking about how men and women are totally different from each other, and in the casual kind of tone that isn't looking for any argument. She was putting up arbitrary divisions between people, without even leaving room to consider how similar we all are. How can I talk to a person like that? We're barely the same species!



When I first heard that I'd be spending Thanksgiving with my cousins, it sounded like a good idea. I don't know why. I've never been close with my cousins. The only thing they seem to be particularly interested in is sports, in which I have no interest at all. Otherwise, all their conversations are of the fluffy sort that add nothing to a day but just fill the time. I sat at that dinner table, filled with foods which to me seemed wholly unappetizing, listening to them chatter endlessly about things I had nothing to say about. (Couldn't they talk about games, or something?) And when someone noticed that I'd been silent the entire time, she thought to start a conversation I could join in on. Awfully considerate. She asked, "How's Miriam doing?".

That's all anyone ever asks. "How's Miriam doing?". My sister has just joined the army, and everyone thinks that's oh-so-interesting. And since she's my sister, everyone expects that I'd find it interesting too. But she's not much of a sister. I've never succeeded (and not for lack of trying) in getting her interested in anything that interests me, so why should I be interested in her? We're related, but that's just a technicality.

So the truth is, my grandparents know more about Miriam's current activities than I do. They care to hear it. I don't. But it's always Miriam people ask about. They never want to know about the games I'm working on, or the music I compose, or even the play I'm playing two roles in. They just want the latest gossip about family. So on Thanksgiving, I quietly excused myself from the table and went down to the piano to play. That's true of every other meal involving large groups of people as well, though not the ones on Shabbat of course. Then I excused myself from the table and went back to reading the novel I'd bought (Peter and Max, by Bill Willingham). If only someone would ask me about that.



My uncle is an Orthodox rabbi. When he came back in the second week for the bar mitzvah, we had more time to talk. I like talking to him, because he lets me talk, but afterwards I always feel like I've been tricked because I realize that he's normal, didn't care at all about anything I said, and was only listening to humor me. At least, that's what I imagine. Who knows what goes on in a normal head. There's no reason to ask, because I couldn't trust the answer. He'd just say whatever's diplomatic.

On the first Friday night, we went to my grandparents' shul which is right next to the street they live on. It's a conservative shul so I knew there'd be mixed seating, but otherwise I expected an ordinary Friday night service. I like the changes conservative Judaism has made toward gender equality. That said, having both genders sit together is surely distracting. Not necessarily in a way I'd mind being distracted, but in a way I know I should mind being distracted in while I'm supposed to be thinking about God. But I was prepared for that. What we didn't know was that the cantor's daughter was having a bat mitzvah that week. That changed the nature of the service.

The layout of the room was a bit shocking to me. It wasn't a room where all the members of the congregation were equals before God, it was a room with a stage in the front that the audience was facing. The cantor and his daughter were facing the audience. This wasn't praying, it was a performance. And as a performance, of course there was a microphone. The rest, I think I might have been okay with. But they were using a microphone on Shabbat, with speakers dangling from the ceiling, and suddenly I just really wanted to get out of there and away from this Shabbat-breaking. I was ashamed to even be sitting in the same room. What made matters worse was that every word was so unbearably slow, like the congregation was struggling to get Hebrew words out of their mouths.

I let my uncle know that I was very uncomfortable to be there. He suggested that we should leave, but a few of us at a time. If we were all seen walking out at the same time, it would be more awkward. I thought that sounded a bit backwards, but any way of getting out of there was fine by me. We went home and prayed by ourselves.



It bothers me that all the doors of the house are connected by an electronic security system. It means any time you open a door, you're breaking Shabbat. But I guess in a luxurious house like this, you really do need it. I always waited for other people to open the doors, so that I wouldn't have to. On the second Shabbat, when it was just me, my uncle, and my grandparents in the house, my uncle decided it was too cold outside to walk to the Chabad shul so I opted to go by myself. I waited for my grandparents to leave the house for their shul (disabling the security system), and then I walked for a half hour to the shul.

The previous week the rabbi had called me up to the Torah; this week he asked if I'd read the haftarah. I said no, it's been a long time since I've done that trup.

It was a nice service. It went fast.

I stayed for lunch, because there wasn't any lunch waiting at home. There was some chicken, so I took it and sat down next to other people and hoped that someone would ask me who I was so that I could say that I live in Israel and I'm here for a house and I'm working on a game and I play piano and I'm starring in a play and I've got strange ideas about art but no one spoke to me. Well, okay. "No one" isn't accurate. The rabbi's wife came over to say that I should say "Hi." to my parents for her. Very important message.

Why can't people be more social? If someone I didn't recognize sat next to me, I'd.. um, I'd... Hrmph. Why can't people be more social, is all I'm asking.

When I went home, no one answered the door so I had to open it myself. Rats.



That night was the bar mitzvah celebration for second cousins of mine. Or "b'nai mitzvah", as they called it. They're twins, a boy and a girl. Reform.

I never thought it was a good idea to go. Warning bells started going off when I heard they wouldn't even have kosher food there, but were going to order some sort of kosher TV dinners specifically because we were coming. I mainly went because I felt like I needed to make it up to my grandfather. That was a huge mistake.

I walked in in my Shabbat clothes: plain white dress shirt, plain black pants. As soon as I saw the crowd, I knew I'd look like I'd come from a different planet. Which of course I had. It was a huge crowd, with lots of preteen girls in skimpy but expensive-looking outfits and boys in brightly colored suits. There wasn't another person in the entire room dressed in a simple white shirt like me. There was a big stage, more raised than in the conservative shul, and there was an upright piano accompanying everything. They'd started the mock-service before Shabbat ended, so my uncle and I got there late. When we came in, the cantor was singing some half-English half-Hebrew song which apparently everyone there but me was familiar with, because they were all clapping along though I'm sure they didn't understand the words. It was just a game of clapping along to the rhythm. They were all pretty good at it, like they'd had lots of practice. I was surprised that during such a meaningless series of kitschy songs, all those half-naked preteen girls were sitting quietly and patiently. For my part, I was squirming in my seat.

The "service" was almost entirely devoid of meaning, and yet it dragged on for hours. Each song had to be a whole production, where the words were repeating over and over again long past the point where anyone was going to hear the words as anything more than a random collection of sounds to hang music on. The prayers were speaking of Shabbat, which had already ended. The "rabbi" endlessly lectured -with the grinning condescension you'd expect of a preschool teacher- about how "traditions" were being passed on, but always speaking in vague generalities since of course there weren't any actual traditions on display here. Almost no one in the room had kept the Shabbat. Almost no one in the room was eating kosher food. Almost no one in the room would be going on to pray to God past that particular night. But ah, "tradition". How warm and fuzzy the word is.

The two kids read from a Torah. I doubt it was a proper, kosher Torah because why should they bother paying for a real Torah when no one really cares one way or the other about its validity? But still, it was a Torah. They'd learned something which vaguely resembled the trup, though they weren't even splitting the sentences right. And I have little faith that they understood what they were saying, given that they were horribly mispronouncing most of the words. They didn't read the actual Torah portion of the day, they just skimmed through it, but they read so slowly that it took forever anyway.

Afterwards, they each gave a little speech about the Torah portion, and that genuinely impressed me. Not the quality of the speeches, but it impressed me that they understood enough of the story to be able to give a speech about it. Even if that speech was "Ya'akov was wrong, because he shouldn't have liked one of his sons more than the others.".

The rest of the evening was all the rabbi and the cantor doing what must be their usual schtick, and trying to get every last minute they could squeeze out of it.

Later I realized why all those preteen girls had been so patient through all this superficial silliness. It was because they were waiting for the real party. [shudder]



As my uncle and I drove toward the hotel (a Hyatt) where the party was, we talked about reform Judaism. He said that if these people didn't have this, they'd have nothing. And I said that they already have nothing, they just don't realize it. The whole service was the illusion of religion. They took superficial elements from the actual prayers, disconnected them from their meaning, and put them on a stage as though that's Judaism. Maybe I'd prefer if they had no connection to Judaism, but understood that they had no connection to Judaism. Better than this flimsy lie, where if no one in the room even believed God exists it wouldn't make a difference.



The party, my grandparents inform me, was typical of the parties around here. But I had never been to such a party before, and God willing I hope I'm never at such a party again.

Even as we walked close to the hall, already the obnoxious techno music was so loud that I wanted to hide in a corner. And so I did. There was a big crowd, and that makes me uncomfortable in itself. But the music is what really put it over the top into sensory overload. I was scared to even look into the hall, let alone walk in. I watched my grandparents from a distance as they got drinks, so that if they went anywhere I could go with them. I didn't take off my black coat, partly because of feeling like I was dressed wrong earlier and partly because it was just a comfort to be dressed in my coat and at that moment I'd take any small comfort I could get.

Eventually someone recommended that I sit in the hotel lobby until we went in, and I was only too happy to get away. I sat there on a couch for maybe twenty minutes, feeling no need to move a muscle but just needing to relax. Then my grandfather came to let me know we'd be eating soon.

Inside the noise was so loud that I was literally concerned for the well-being of my ears. The techno music seemed even more obnoxious at that volume, which was such that no one could hear anyone else talking. And there was a DJ running the event, whose talking was even louder than the music. There was a big screen displaying obnoxious music videos to go along with the obnoxious music, with its constant thumping like someone hitting you in the head with a mallet. There was some sort of dancing going on; it was so crowded there I could barely to stand to look in that general direction. I sat at the table, desperately covering my ears, waiting for whatever no-doubt inedible food they'd serve us. Eventually someone suggested that I go back to the lobby, and I ran out.

There was a grand piano in the lobby, a badly-tuned Yamaha. A distant relative of some sort pointed it out to me, and assured me that no one would mind if I played on it. So I ran over and sat down. I started playing, and I never looked back. I forgot what I'd played three seconds after playing it, already at something new. And though my instinct (being let loose like that) was to play as loudly as I could, I restrained myself so that I could feel like I had the upper hand.

At one point two black guys who were staying in the hotel passed by and seemed to be enjoying my music. I stopped, embarrassed, but they said to go on. Whenever I did anything, they jumped back in shock as though they'd never heard any actual music before. Bizarre. They asked me if I knew any Michael Jackson songs. I said no, and they left. My grandfather told me later that they probably thought I was the professional entertainment. (In that coat, no one could possibly think I was a professional. Like I said, bizarre.)

But I wasn't playing for them, I was playing for me. I needed this, my one and only opening to do or say anything in that entire night. I could clean my head of that endless repetition and mindless thumping and inane lyrics sung by digitally-altered nasal voices.

But then I needed to go back in.

The DJ played a game with the kids, where he'd start some horrific pop song like "I'm A Barbie Girl", then stop and have the kids keep singing from where he left off. So to get points, these preteen girls were all singing this crap at the top of their lungs. I'm not sure which was louder, them or the recording, but I know that I never again want to be in a position to answer that question.

The DJ played 80s music for the adults, and gave moronic instructions like "Pretend you're playing an air guitar!" while all these supposedly sane adults stood on stage and followed his every word.

At one point a friend of the family, who used to be a hotel concierge, noticed me covering my ears and went out to get help. I only know this (I was mostly oblivious of anything going on under this constant pressure) because he came back with ear plugs. They were a tremendous help, I will admit.

The screen sometimes showed the crowd, but only under such heavy digital filters that you could barely make out what was going on.

The kosher food was salad and fish, neither of which I eat. It was probably very expensive for the hosts to get.

There was not a single thing in the entire party which was remotely Jewish, even by bogus reform standards.

My grandfather was kind enough to drive me home early. I had leftover pizza for dinner. It was good.



My grandfather and I often have trouble communicating. I say something, he misinterprets, I need to rephrase, he misinterprets again, then he finally understands and wonders why I'd said it to begin with. Or sometimes it's the same pattern, but with him talking and me misunderstanding. One time we were talking at each other like that and my grandmother looked dubious about whether there was a point. "We understand each other.", my grandfather assured her. "No we don't.", I corrected him. "We never understand each other. It's like we're talking in two different languages."

And that's the truth. My grandfather is pragmatic, I only care about emotions. My grandfather says I should have common sense, and I want him to boil that down into clear and consistent rules. And my grandfather thinks family is important.


a quiet day

There was a baby naming ceremony at a relative's house. Most of the people there would be people I wouldn't know, and it would be noisy and dull. I asked my grandmother for clarification as to what exactly I'd be doing there, whether there would ever be a quiet point where we could talk to individual people outside of a big crowd. I went back to the living room. A few minutes later, I came back. "I've been thinking about this, and I really don't see what I'd get out of going." She said to go talk to my grandfather. I said to my grandfather that I got really uncomfortable around crowds, and I'd prefer not to go. He told me he was very disappointed, and I went back to the living room.

I couldn't focus on anything with that hanging over my head. So a few minutes later, I went to my grandparents' room to confront my grandfather. I said to him, "I don't understand why you don't see where I'm coming from here. I won't exactly be having any meaningful conversations with people when my brain's shutting down because of the crowd. If it were a one-on-one conversation with someone, that's one thing. But being in a big crowd where I won't even notice that they're there because all I'll see is the crowd, that's something else.". "C'mere." He hugged me and said I could stay home. A few minutes later, he asked me if I'd go to the bar mitzvah party. I hadn't planned on going, but I said yes.

So they left the house. An hour or so later, my cousins all left as well. So I had the house all to myself.

First I worked on the game. It's turning out more interesting than I planned.

Then I read my book a little. Excellent storytelling.

Then I played piano, working on Variations on V.O.V. in particular.

Then I summarized a little bit more of my blog.

Then I took out the play, knowing that I'd never get such a perfect opportunity.

I stood by mirrors and practiced the voices and kinds of movement for the characters, being as loud as I was supposed to be on stage. And then I moved back into the living room, and started playing scenes. I paused for the other characters' absent lines, so that I'd have to think about how I was moving around and reacting as they spoke. And I kept in motion the whole time, trying to find the emotional gist of every line (and often being surprised by what I found).

I worked on the play for many hours. I kept moving through the house, from the living room to the den to the basement to the mirror bathroom and back to the living room. I memorized all of my lines for Act 1, I got more comfortable with the voice of Ambrose, I learned things about what the characters are going through. And then I stopped trying, really, and just played around with my voice to see what weird things I could do with it.

(All at the top of my lungs, of course.)

As I was in the middle of this, a couple walked through the backyard to see what the property was like. I stopped being quite so loud for a few minutes. From my comfortable seat in one of the living room's swivel chairs, I waved hello in a friendly manner. They passed by in the direction of the beach path, and I went back to my silliness.

Progress report

Here's a list of what I've accomplished here:
  • I've drawn more than half of the Angles and Circles sketch. The middle, the top, the bottom, and the entire left side are all done. (Not "done" in the sense that I won't have to rework them when I put it all in the computer, but "done" in the sense that I'm happy with them conceptually.) I haven't figured out what to do with the right side of the world yet. The parts I've finished incorporate all the random ideas I had, but use those ideas in ways I hadn't thought of originally. I'm very happy with where I've gotten.
  • I've planned out the first thirty seconds or so of Next Door. I know, that's not much, but it's a start.
  • I've "finished" Variations on V.O.V., in the sense that I can now play the whole thing to its end. I started writing out the notes, but then I stopped and decided I'd do it on the computer later. So the harmony for the last two variations isn't in its final form. I've come up with an initial theme for the second movement which I sort of like; I may or may not use it in the end.
  • I've memorized my lines for Acts 1 and 3 of The Matchmaker. (There are four acts.)
  • I've summarized every post on this blog, with the obvious exception of these posts I'm writing.
That's all.

Get Out

I liked to run around outside sometimes. On my first night there was a thick fog, so I ran out and sat by a tree looking out to the lake and just soaked in the otherworldliness of it all.

One day I came in from wandering around outside, and my grandfather was on the phone with his real estate agent. Someone was interested in the house, and would come by to check it out the next day. We needed to be gone when they came, and the house needed to look empty.

The kitchen was small and cramped. When we sat down at the table, facing the wall, there wasn't quite enough room for all three of us to sit comfortably. There was a skylight on the ceiling that I'd never even noticed until it was pointed out, but which had been adding light in the daytime. The walls were hand-painted with orange stone shapes, which had a lot of texture to them and actually stuck out from the wall a little. That must have taken forever to do.

In the time I'd been there, I'd gotten my room quite messy. That's how a room ought to be. A plain white piece of paper isn't complete. It needs to be scribbled on, or there was never a reason for that paper to exist. A messy and imperfect room feels alive, in a way that a clean and orderly room doesn't. It only took me a minute to make my room look like no one had been there so that the prospective buyers could walk through.

The den was many shades of brown (in mahogany panels) with a bit of white, and it had brown and blue furniture. The hallway was off-white in painted stripe patterns. The mirror bathroom's mirrors had a slightly greenish tint. The bedroom I stayed in had beige wood panels. The bedroom next to it was a deep brown, with little bits of blue all over. The living room was painted light blue. The dining room was yellow. The bathroom next to my bedroom was pink and blue and gray.

I said to my grandfather it didn't make any sense to me that someone else would be showing their house to people. What could a real estate agent know about the house? My grandfather could show all the ingenious little modifications he'd made to the house over the years. He could explain how he's wired the whole house up so that speakers in every room can connect to the stereo. He could show them the hidden drawers he put in and the shelf hanging from the ceiling for the microwave and all that. But he'd never even meet these people, it would all get done through the real estate agent. He wouldn't even know whether the new people appreciate this house at all. And that drove me crazy. "Don't you want to meet them? Don't you want to know what happens to the house after you sell it?" Ever the pragmatist, my grandfather replied: "What difference does it make to me what happens after I've sold it? What practical use does that information have?" And we went back and forth, with me insisting that he must be at least curious who these people are, and him insisting that there's no logical reason why he should be curious.

The house was built in 1955, designed by an architect named Mandel. It wasn't a perfect house. It was a lovingly-designed house, whose every room had lots of character. It was once affordable; now it was being sold for several million dollars. But that price was more for the property than for the house.


We left the house without anywhere pressing to be. We settled on the library, and stayed there for two hours.

Along with the house, whoever bought the property would also get the design for a new house, designed for the property by a reputable architect named Pickell. My grandfather specifically hired a real estate agent who'd worked with this architect (and his team), to add a greater incentive for the buyer (who would know this architect's reputation). So whoever decided to pay the multimillion dollar price could then pay millions more to tear down the house and build this new one. As my grandfather sees it: "I tell you, if you're paying that kind of money, you can do whatever you want with the house." I looked up this architect's work on the internet. His rooms are all white and empty and so perfect that you'd feel bad moving a single chair by an inch for fear of messing up the balance of the room. His design is bigger than the house now, with everything more precisely calculated for optimal efficiency in living. He's really good. But he's no Mandel.

As we were gone, a family checked out the house and were apparently willing to buy. They especially expressed an interest in the Pickell design. There was also another couple interested in buying, who hadn't said what their intentions were. It would all come down to money in the end, and then whoever got the house would do whatever they liked.

My grandfather tried to explain why he doesn't personally like Pickell's work: "To me, there's a difference between a house and a home."

I'm not sure if I agree with that. My grandparent's house was never my home, but it was never just a house to me.

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Thursday, November 19, 2009

Mory, Mory, Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?

Let's sum up this embarrassment of the blogosphere, shall we? Once upon a time there was a pathetic excuse for a person. His name was Mory. He sat around all day and did nothing but whine and think too much. And he said: "Ooh! I think I should share my misery with the rest of the human race! What fun!" And he wrote this blog. At one point he made two games, and they were crap. But still, they were games and they worked when you ran them, and for a split-second I thought that there was hope for the guy, for this pathetic little miserable ball of shit named Mory. But no. He went back to whining and moping and doing nothing.
At this point, I'm not sure
I disagree with your assessment.
My day is complete, I've heard the opinion of Mory's little imaginary future-guy.
Not sure...?!
The blog isn't worthless, it led to me. And by the way, you left out the part where Mory's a self-centered jerk who creates characters, uses them, and then disposes of them. I mean, take these future guys-
How can you think he hasn't made progress?
-how long has it been
Wait 'til she stops talking, I can't hear myself think.
since the last post they were in? I bet it was pretty darned long. And what have they been doing all this time? That's right, they've just been sitting and sipping their coffee and reading this blog! Never a break, never a moment to themselves, because that single task of reading the blog is the only task their selfish creator thought to give them. Now that's a tragedy, a tragedy, but only imaginary people like us would see it for what it is. They're consigned to a one-note existence, all because their creator never bothered to give them more. And the only way we can stop things like that is by getting together and making a unified stand against it! We need to start some sort of protest group and just hijack every post he tries to make. We need some sort of name.
Sure, babe.
Okay, here's the thing.
This blog has just been continually frustrating.
Don't bother to disagree, you know I'm right.
This is still part 2 of the blog, right?
That started in, what was it, August 2007.
That means that at the time of this post we're up to,
part 2 has been more than two years.
And the point of part 2, as he set it up,
was that he was going to change to be more like
the Buckman that we're reading through this to
27 months.

27..?
27 months since the beginning of part 2.
Right, 27 months.
See, that's what I'm talking about.
It's too slow.
And now he might as well have never even started part 2,
he's practically back where he was before it.
I just don't see where he's going.
But we know he's
Yes, of course we know.
But it's getting really frustrating that he's still so far from that.
He's worrying so much about that silly little play,
like that's what matters in the grand scheme of things.
How about "Imaginary People's Rights"? No, I don't like it either, it needs to be catchier.
And take this post here. This is, what's the date here.. November 19 2009. Right. And what was the date he said he was going on that second trip thing.. November 23. So this is four days before that, he should be working like crazy to finish up as much of The March of Bulk as he can, but instead he's pulled out all his toys and is playing around with them.
Did you just call me a toy?! I am not a toy! I am a fictional character, who's just been taken advantage of!
My apologies, ma'am.
Oh yeah, now you're so classy! A few seconds ago you were calling me a toy!
Hey, cool it, cool it. He's an idiot, but he didn't mean anything.
He certainly did!
You see? This is entirely pointless.
Are you sure?
Entirely pointless.
I'm thinking maybe we should just stop reading.
Oh, come on!
At this point he is working on the game,
he just isn't posting anything about it because there's nothing new to post. I'm sure that's what it is. And he'll be done soon, and part 2 will wrap up, and I bet it'll be really interesting.
We've been reading this far, we can't stop now.
Oh fine, we can read a bit more.
I hope you're right.
I am.
You're not.
I agree. There's no way a guy like Mory knows a way out of the mess he's made for himself. He thinks he's so smart, but really he doesn't think about any of the things that matter.

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Monday, November 16, 2009

Imagine, if you will…

Glitchy transitions as horror

When the game begins, the player character is a young man. The player has been playing for a while, reaching no satisfying end point, when he is approached by a man with a fancy suit and very neat hair. As the man comes close, the camera shakes a tiny bit, the music repeats a note, and the gameworld (including everything and everyone in it) freezes. This glitchiness lasts no longer than one second. Suddenly the character is in his bed. The player gets up, walks past a mirror on the wall, gets dressed and goes out to continue the game.

All the other characters are speaking about things which the player has not seen. They talk to the player character as though he is meant to understand what they are talking about. The player is given vague clues that it's been a few months since the last scene, though it's a bit early to give it away entirely. Otherwise, the game proceeds as normal.

Then the man in the suit walks toward the player character, the game glitches for maybe a second and a half, and he's back in bed.

..and so on. The first segment of gameplay (before the first appearance of the man in the suit) is fairly long, but each successive segment is shorter. The glitching is slightly longer each time, where by "glitching" I mean that the camera gets stuck between two points, the game freezes, and the music loops whatever the last second it played was until the character is back in bed. Each time, the character gets subtly older in appearance, though this is so subtle that the player might not notice for a while.

Another change over the course of the game is that the man gets progressively harder to spot. The game might freeze at the moment you see him sitting in a chair across the street. Or it might freeze as you're minding your own business as he walks around a corner far away. One time the man knocks into you, then walks away, five seconds pass, and then the game glitches. But that's a one-time gimmick; more often the player is likely to not have even noticed the man in the suit, because he is just wandering around in the background.

Sometimes the player wakes up and discovers that an important character has died. Sometimes the player wakes up and discovers that what the goal he's been playing toward is already irrelevant. Sometimes the player wakes up and discovers that the game world has changed significantly.

By the end of the game, the player is playing an old man. The glitches last a good ten seconds, and the player can barely get in five minutes of gameplay before they happen. He stumbles out of his house after one glitch, and there's a huge crowd outside. There's nothing to do in the crowd, but the player's actually safe there. As soon as he leaves the crowd and walks into some secluded little alleyway or house (it doesn't matter where), he sees the man waiting there.

He wakes up, gets out of bed, and before he can even get to the door the game freezes again. Again the player gets out of bed, and he doesn't even make it that far. And so on, until the game crashes immediately after the character wakes up, his eyes wide open in fear, and that glitch holds. It doesn't matter if you leave the game running for hours, it's going to keep looping the music and shaking the camera and not accepting input. There are no end credits; the only way to end the game is to shut off the console.

When the player goes back in, he discovers that his save file has been deleted.

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Thursday, November 12, 2009

Do I overthink things?
I don't know, let me think about that…

so okay, it might be possible that in certain cases I think about things a tiny bit more than I maybe should.

I just came back from the second rehearsal. And boy, what a disaster it was. It turns out, I've got entirely the wrong approach for Barnaby. The hunched shoulders? That was a mistake. The awkwardly limited movements? That was a mistake. The general lack of enthusiasm much of the time? I'm not sure, but I think that's a mistake too.

I'm not entirely sure I understand why they're mistakes, and that bothers me. The hunched shoulders were supposed to be like a little turtle hiding in its shell, I thought it would be cute. But it's not cute, I'm sure of that now. It just doesn't work. The limited movements were supposed to indicate shyness, but I think they're just making him bland. The last thing Barnaby needs to be is bland. It just doesn't work. The lack of enthusiasm is supposed to make it more noticeable when he does get enthusiastic, to give the sense that this isn't something he experiences every day. But instead I think I'm finding it hard to figure out what the right moments to bring the enthusiasm in are, so he constantly occupies some strange space in between obsessiveness and disinterest. It just isn't working.

At home and then on the bus to Jerusalem and then waiting around because I'd gotten there early, I went over Act 2 (the subject of tonight's rehearsal). I specifically looked for the rhythms of the lines, the pitches of the lines, that sort of thing. I wanted to figure out how random lines could seem like more than a string of words. I also wanted to learn the lines as quickly as possible, so that I could pay attention to the other actors and to my own performance rather than to the script. So I was really eager to get started. And then for the first 45 minutes, we just went over all the revisions. Tanya's changing lots of little lines. That meant I couldn't ignore my script; I needed to always be aware of the current version! It also meant that all the little bits of performance I'd worked out were suddenly more confusing than helpful.

But I don't know if that even mattered. In the bottom line, I wasn't playing Barnaby right. A little quirk here or there in a performance, that's fine. The voice is a quirk like that, that I don't at all regret. But I had so many quirks there was no room left for acting. I was so conscious of how I was moving around, and how I was interacting with the stage, and how I could get the next little beat that I'd planned in, that I barely noticed what anyone else was doing. Or where I did see what they were doing, I couldn't see how I could work with it.

But beyond that, I think I'm misunderstanding who Barnaby is on a fundamental level. I'm playing him as scared, and I'm starting to wonder if he should be closer to the opposite extreme. Does he really want to get out of trouble or does he want to be in trouble? I can't say I know, and that's a problem. Sometimes as I was reacting to Cornelius a certain way, in the back of my mind I was wondering whether I had it all wrong. I'm going to need to think more about Barnaby's motivations, about how much is under the surface and how much is clear. I think it's not quite right to just play a character here - I ought to be playing a character playing a character. Tanya says Barnaby wants to act cool, wants to be as fearless as Cornelius. So I need to think about which parts of that are an act, and which parts are revealing hidden truths. Or maybe all acts are revealing truths. This is the sort of thing that I'm not qualified to play Barnaby until I think about.

..or not. David, who's playing Cornelius, said to me that I don't need to try so hard. He said that Barnaby is really a lot like me, so if I just act like myself it'll be right. And that goes with what Tanya said to me after the rehearsal. For one thing she said that I need to speak up more (and it's embarrassing that I'm not doing that), but she also said (after I asked for her input) that she thinks I'm a "natural". And I didn't really know what to make of it as I was hearing, but now I'm thinking that maybe she said that because she wants me to get away from things that aren't natural, and back to something that's less of an act.

I think I think so much about details that I miss the basics. I think if I weren't thinking so much on stage about what it was I was supposed to be thinking about, I might have been confident enough to project my voice more. I think thinking so much about how Barnaby thinks got me thinking that the only way I could play Barnaby was by thinking it through to a point beyond my capabilities as an actor.

Okay, I think too much. ..I think.

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Monday, November 09, 2009

Holy. Cabooses.

(Previously: Matchmaker)

so, this is more perfect than I could possibly have expected.

Forty minutes after writing the last post, I left for Jerusalem and the first rehearsal of The Matchmaker, in which I will be playing the part of Barnaby.

Barnaby is a sidekick character. He's 17, has never left home before, and gets pulled along on a wacky adventure in the big city. His catch phrase is "Holy cabooses!". I do him with a nasal voice and hunched shoulders. I basically knew that I was getting the part before I even wrote that other post, because at one point in the callbacks the director slipped up: When telling us how to read a new scene, she meant to say "..and Barnaby will be played by Mory...", but instead said "..and Barnaby will be played by Barnaby...". So I had a good hunch that she wanted me for that part.

And reading through the play at that callback, I was a bit conflicted. Because on the one hand, Barnaby was a really good part. It'll especially have a lot of fun physical comedy. But y'know, I heard how some of the other parts were being played, and I felt like I could do them better. I'm told that all actors feel like that when watching other actors. And it's probably not any more true in my case than it is with other actors. I should have learned from watching that 1776 DVD that I'm not the actor I think I am. But still, I wanted to get a turn doing the other parts, just that once. So after the other male actors had all left, I stuck around and read for all three young male roles: Barnaby, Ambrose (the other one I'd tried at the auditions) and Cornelius.

Cornelius is the one that gets all the funny lines, he's one of the three leads (along with Dolly Levi and Horace Vandergelder). Ambrose is a romantic artist who wants to elope with his girlfriend but has a hard time getting her to go along with the idea. For a few, glorious minutes, I got to play both of them and Barnaby, even though I knew I would only be getting Barnaby. (Who, granted, is a better character than Ambrose. So there's that.) Sometimes I'd be talking to myself, doing two voices. When we stopped for the night, Tanya said that she wished she could split me in three and have me play all the roles, and of course I understood perfectly well that that was just flattery. But still -that was so much fun.

I was surprised at this first rehearsal to see that some people from the callback who I thought had done a good job weren't in the play. Or at least, they're not doing the parts I thought they were. An old and experienced actor did a fabulous job with the part of old man Vandergelder, but he's apparently been given Vandergelder's assistant instead. Vandergelder was given to a younger actor (Actually, the father of the actor who's playing Cornelius, who's the same guy who walked into the audition with me.), I assume because Dolly was given to a young actress. So one thing you can say about Tanya: she uses what she has in creative ways. At the very last minute she might change her mind about something huge, but she'll change it to something interesting. For instance, that lady with the accents that I mentioned before (Sorry, I don't remember her name.) is supposed to kiss me at one point in the play, but she raised an objection on religious grounds and almost at once Tanya came up with a solution: just as she comes to kiss me, I faint. In the context of that scene, that's a great idea. So I guess the unconventional casting is part of that out-of-the-box approach.

Oh, and by the way: she's decided that our version of the play is set in the 1960s. And she's making very significant edits and rewrites to keep it under two hours. So this isn't a straight rendition of the material by any means. Which is good, because it'll help us distinguish ourselves from.. you know what, there's a funny story here, but it has nothing to do with anything. So left-click here if you're interested.

On Friday night, I was next door at Avri and Lorien's house, and a friend of theirs came by from the Aviv neighborhood. This is someone who I recognize from Games Nights, but not someone I know well. I asked him what he was up to, and he said that while attending Bar-Ilan University he's been involved with a play they're putting on. "Oh?", I asked, "What play is that?", and he said "The Matchmaker". Yeah. So I asked him, "Who are you playing?", and he said "Barnaby". Think about the odds there for a second. They started rehearsing a week ago, and they're performing in January. At our rehearsal today I told Tanya about this (She'd been unaware.), and she immediately came up with some creative but dubious ideas of how we could use this to our advantage. Aaaaanyway..


I got to the rehearsal a few minutes late, and that was after taking a taxi rather than a bus. There was just so much traffic, we would have needed to leave a half hour earlier (That's two hours transportation time.) to get there on time. Oh, yeah, I said "we". It turns out, all of JEST's shows are rehearsed in the same place at the same time. So I might sometimes be going to Jerusalem with Dena, who has a small but important part in "Another Antigone". I don't think I would have thought to take a taxi. I got to the rehearsal way before Barnaby's first line, and someone was reading Ambrose who wasn't actually the actor for Ambrose. After Act 1, we took a little break and Tanya mentioned that if we ever get there late, we're fired. (No pressure.) A long time after we started, a guy who smelled like cigarettes but seemed pretty friendly walked in and sat next to me. That was our Ambrose. He didn't do a very good job, but that bothered me less now that I knew officially which part I was getting.

What did bother me was that Tanya's planned cuts (mentioned earlier) take out a lot of good material for Barnaby. So when we stopped for the night, I was feeling like maybe this wasn't going to be quite as great as I'd hoped, though of course it'd be much more fun than my previous roles. And then Tanya said that she'd like to talk to me for a second.

She said to me that she might be firing the guy she had for Ambrose, in which case I'd be playing two parts.

And let me be clear: these are both good parts. I'd be happy to play either one. But both! Switching back and forth! And it's not even my birthday!

Apparently, there's only one point in the whole play where both Ambrose and Barnaby are on stage. And Barnaby doesn't talk there. So Tanya's idea is that at that one point, we'll replace Barnaby with a doll dressed in his clothes. I don't know if something quite that drastic is necessary (Surely he can just go to the bathroom?), but that is funny. Apparently Tanya would really trust me with playing two parts. She wasn't lying.

So I'm there 100%. Whatever it takes to get this to work, I'll do it. There would be no less than seven costume changes, each of them a rush. So I'd just have to practice speed. Hey, I've beaten one of the F-Zero GX cups on Master. I can do speed. Doing two different voices with distinct speech patterns? Hey, I read the Megillah. That's eight voices. Keeping in my head the way two different characters think, and switching back and forth between them on the fly? Hi.

Okay, I admit it. This will be friggin' hard. But this is my kind of hard.

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Sunday, November 08, 2009

Training Wheels Off

For over a year now, I've been using a program called Access Boss to get myself to work on my games. It's a really simple program: it has a schedule of when I'm allowed to use my computer, and when I'm not it logs off my user. I used this in tandem with a Microsoft program called Windows SteadyState, which limits what programs specific users can access. I created a user called "Work", which is unable to run Firefox, my comics reader, my media player, or my most-played games. I'd tell Access Boss to kick me off my regular user at specific times, and keep me out for, say, two hours or so.

In this way I cast Access Boss in the role of employer, so that I'd play the reluctant employee and eventually get some work done. Earlier I'd cast the blog itself in this part, but I was finding that it wasn't effective enough because I could ignore the blog too easily. I only ever saw the need to work when opening my browser and browsing over to my page. The program played the boss better, but not particularly well. The trouble was, ultimately "Access Boss" was just a character I was playing myself. And due to the simplicity of the program, it didn't have enough of a personality to understand what I needed. I needed a boss that'd understand that when I say I can't work right now I don't really mean it. This one just said, "Okay, don't work.". I did work more under Access Boss than under the blog, but I would always delay the time of work and then shorten it once I'd done some. Efforts to prevent myself from running Access Boss from either of the two users didn't work, due to inadequacies with Windows SteadyState.

You probably remember my attempt to supplant Access Boss with a more fully-formed character. That was a mistake. The idea was to always keep Notepad open, in which I'd have a dialogue with this new boss character. The "imaginary girlfriend" character I'd just invented for the blog (the one written in the Palatino font) eagerly jumped in, and I shouldn't really have let her but I wanted to spend more time with her anyway so I didn't see a problem. The problem was, I hadn't figured out exactly who she was yet. She was supposed to have Asperger's Syndrome, but I hadn't even given her an affinity yet. So that fictional relationship was too weak to withstand the antagonism of a boss-worker dynamic. That aggression became the main gist of the story, ruining what could have been a fun part of the blog. (I still haven't found a way to write myself out of that corner.)

So I quickly ended that and went back to Access Boss. I wish I could say that was enough, but you've seen how slowly The March of Bulk has been coming along. Where I stand right now is that I've solved the problem with the viewports (Embarrassingly, the solution was just one line of code saying to use OpenGL instead of DirectX.), and am now struggling to fit the next step into math. (There's no question that I'll be able to deal with this, but it's taking some time.)

A week ago, I made the mistake of upgrading Access Boss. It was bugging me with one of those upgrade windows, and I thought "What's the harm?" but I should have known. My copy of Access Boss is illegal. The upgrade broke the crack, and I can't find a crack for the new version. To make matters worse, there is no one still sharing the old version on BitTorrent, so I can't get back to the way it was. (I deleted my copy of the download after installing it.) In short, I've lost Access Boss. I haven't uninstalled it yet, but that's a matter of laziness rather than hope.

So whatever happens now, I've gotta deal with myself. There's no one requiring me to work anymore.

But of course, there never really was anyone else but me. I think the modicum of self-control I gained as those three characters is still there. The way it manifests is mainly in focused depression. Every now and then while I'm entertaining myself, a little taste of depression starts to build up. The longer I ignore it, the more it gnaws at me. But as soon as I get down to work on my game, it goes away and I'm as happy as can be. This isn't a pleasant system, but it feels like a more permanent one.

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Wednesday, November 04, 2009

iPhone, Part 2

I've let this Eyal know I'm not interested. My father, upon hearing what their deal was, suggested that I should learn how to program for iPhones myself. Kyler, upon hearing the deal, pointed out that The Perfect Color wouldn't work on an iPhone. So I'm not getting involved with these guys, which is a load off my chest anyway. All's well.

I will keep iPhone development in mind, though. I think Next Door could work well on it.

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Where The Money Is

I just got off the phone with a guy named Eyal. He works at a company in Tel Aviv that makes iPhone games. He's expressed interest in The Perfect Color. He said I'd need to pay somewhere between $5,000 and $8,000 dollars for them to develop it as an iPhone application, market it and sell it. How much of the money from sales goes to me (and Kyler, by extension), I don't know. But it would need to be pretty darn high to justify that. Holy heck, that's a lot of money.

How did I get myself into this scary situation? Well, that's a long and funny story, filled with twists and turns and shocking coincidences. No, I'm just kidding, it's not any of those things. But that would be a really cool intro to a story, don't you think? No, it's actually really simple: my father saw an ad.

I haven't talked about my father much on this blog. He's a practical kind of guy, he holds our shul and our community together, he's a reliable doctor. And I know that under all that, he's actually kind of weird. When we lived in America, he taped lots of science fiction shows like Babylon 5 and Star Trek and Earth 2. These days the only TV show he has the time to watch is The Amazing Race. He watches that every Saturday night with my mother. You should see him when he gets the opportunity to talk about that show. He just goes on and on. If you only saw him then, you'd think he had Asperger's Syndrome. That's how much enthusiasm he has for things he likes. He enjoys simple things: biking to work, Sudoku puzzles. Sometimes I feel like out of my whole family, he's the only one I can recognize as being related to me. But then he goes and acts all productive, and that feeling goes away.

He said to me a while back that his only regret in the way he raised me is that I should have been put in a school where I'd learn physics. He's right- I probably would have enjoyed physics. And he's always tried to get me to learn that. He's a real purveyor of silliness sometimes. It might surprise you to hear me speaking so positively of my father, given what I said earlier. But he hasn't done the whole discipline thing since I got out of high school. I guess he thinks I've grown up already. (Heh heh.)

A few months ago we were having dinner with some friends of the family (a Russian-American couple and their daughter) from America. (Dinner was terrible, by the way. Don't go to the restaurant Noyah in Jerusalem.) And the topic of my gamism came up. This friend of the family, he said that he's heard that iPhone games are big business now. My father was at that table.

So when he saw an ad (in Hebrew) looking for developers who'd like to make iPhone games, he pushed me to get in touch with them.

On reflection, that whole story could have been one sentence long. Sorry about that. Here, let me clean up the post a bit.
my father saw an ad (in Hebrew) looking for developers who'd like to make iPhone games, and he pushed me to get in touch with them.

So somehow I found myself on the phone with this Eyal guy. And that money! I don't have that kind of money. I could try to dig into savings for that, but I dunno. The point of that is to make money, right? I'm not so interested in that. I'd prefer to work out a deal where they pay me (and by extension, Kyler) for the code, and then they keep the sales money themselves. My interest is to have as many people as possible play the game. This company can do that. But this could be dangerous. I don't know how much I trust a bunch of guys out to make a buck. Not just in terms of the money, which as I said I'd like to try to wriggle out of anyway. But the game, do I really trust these guys with the game? This is the best thing I've ever done in my life, and they could mutilate it so badly, if they didn't know what they were doing...

Eyal said to me that he thinks it could use some 3D graphics, to better sell it. This is the sort of business we're talking about. I said to him that that's not necessary, and he said I might be right. He said to me that some of the games that sell big on iPhone are so simple and silly I wouldn't believe it. (I probably would. I don't think like a businessman.) So I'm off the hook with the 3D thing. But what if they try to change the ending? What if they replace the line about trying to make everyone happy with a line about how that's really not what you want at all?

They don't care about the art, I'm quite sure of that. They don't care that this is a universal statement about ideas. And that's not something I should resent, it's just something I need to understand. These people, they don't think like me. They're interested in The Perfect Color because they see an opportunity for easy money. The iPhone is going to be officially released in Israel a month from now, and they want to be the first ones out there with Hebrew-language games for it. Which my game isn't, of course, but it can easily be translated. The question is whether I can make a deal with these people. I tell you, it's scary.

2 Comments:

Blogger Richie said:

Do not -- I repeat, *not* -- pay these "developers" one red cent (or agora). They want *you* to pay them to develop your game for the iPhone?! You're not an investor, you're not a businessman. To paraphrase Toy Story's Woody, "YOU - ARE - A - GEEK!"

If you're willing to give up some degree of control over your creativity in exchange for money, then by all means, sell them the concept and/or the code, for a bulk sum and/or some portion of the profits. This is your product, not the iPhone app, if and when it finally appears. You should not have to bear any of the financial risk.

 Mory said:

You're right, of course.

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Monday, November 02, 2009

Here, have some high culture.

Small Worlds by David Shute


As far as I can tell, his only previous game was the hilarious comedy movement game Chasm Spasm. (I'll be darned, it has been done before!) This new one's a pure exploration game. I like this guy. :D

With Small Worlds he's playing with zooming-out (much like I did in The Perfect Color), which I don't think I've ever seen before in exploration. The worlds are all pixel-art, which start so zoomed in that it barely has any coherence yet. You explore more of it by jumping around in side view, and it zooms out so you can see where you're going. Any parts of the image you don't go to don't get filled in. So if you don't want to experience the game to the fullest, you're not forced to.

There's an overworld, a science-fiction-y space-ship-y area, cold and gray like so many other games. The soundtrack has the humming of machinery, and everything looks dead and desolate. From there, you get to four other worlds, each of them beautiful and serene. They feature unusual combinations of what looks like man-made structures and natural chaos. When you get to the end, the game jarringly switches back to the overworld, leaving you disappointed to be back. After you've been to all four worlds, you detach from the space ship, the world zooms out further to show that you're leaving it behind, and the word "silence" appears on the screen to indicate that the game is over.

If you think that sounds like fun, you're right - it's terrific. And if you think it doesn't sound like fun, go away, you philistine.

The one weakness of the game is the jumping. It's the annoying kind of jumping, where if you hold down the button it keeps jumping forever. Those controls only ever existed because they're easier to program than sensible jumping- if there's a context in which that kind of endless bouncing works, I haven't seen it.

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Sunday, October 25, 2009

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have Chronic Normalcy Syndrome."

[scribble, scribble]

"What's your diagnosis?"

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this. You have what we call chronic normalcy syndrome, or CNS. It's a development disorder that impedes your ability to form an identity. Most people form patterns of behavior and thought based on their genetics and their surroundings, but that has only happened with you to a very limited extent. To put it simply, you've never experienced any part of life as strongly as a healthy person would. Anything that happens, anything you come into contact with, you're only experiencing on a very basic level. And that's not a reflection on your intelligence at all, it's just what this disorder has done to you. You're just not equipped to form emotional reactions like the rest of us.
"Now, I don't want you to get too scared. Chronic normalcy syndrome is a very common disease, and most people who suffer from it manage just fine in life. It's uncommon for a person with CNS to ever get depressed or to have serious social difficulties. But it's just as uncommon for a person with CNS to ever be strongly happy or to achieve anything beyond the mundane; that means that unless you really work at it, there's an upper limit to what you can get out of life.
"The good news is, there's treatment. A few years ago, this problem wasn't widely recognized and there were no reliable options for getting better. But awareness of chronic normalcy syndrome has jumped forward recently, and there are many support groups available. I also would advise that you continue to come to me once a week, so that we can work on this together. But ultimately, it's up to you to decide what you want to do about the situation. I'm just letting you know what the situation is. But I strongly recommend that you start dealing with this as soon as possible."

"How did I get this?"

"The causes of CNS aren't really understood yet. There's research going on to figure that out. There are theories that it comes from a certain kind of upbringing, but there are new studies that suggest it's mainly genetic. But this is all still pretty unproven, it's only recently that people started paying attention to the problem. It used to be that people with chronic normalcy syndrome were just called 'boring', and there was nothing they could do to help themselves. But now the situation is very different."

"I understand. How is it that you know I have CNS?"

"Well, you're actually a very standard case of the disease. There's a list of symptoms we look for, like a lack of personal interests, a tendency to agree with other people without thinking, a very simple and straightforward manner of speech, and other similar indicators of a lack of personality development. Trust me, you have CNS."

"Thank you. So what should I do?"

"You should understand that treatment is not going to be quick, and it's not going to be easy. But it is important. I had another patient who came in without any signs of individuality at all, a real textbook case of CNS. We've been working on it for around two years, and he's almost unrecognizable now from what he was. He's got interests and personality traits, he looks distinctive, he acts distinctive. He quit his old job, and now he's got a high-paying management position. And understand, when he came in to this office he had no signs of ambition at all. You would have thought he'd still be in his low-paying job until the day he died, and never realizing he could move up. He recently said to me, when he left for the day, that he feels like he used to be asleep, and now he's waking up. So understand that this is my personal experience: you can get over this problem. You're not going to be an artist or a visionary, but we can find lots of little ways for you to add to society and have a more healthy, aware state of mind. But the road there may be unpleasant. If you're ready to start, we can do this once a week."

"Sure, sounds good."

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Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Scene-switching

I'm wondering about switching between two or more parallel storylines or settings, and whether that can be done in a way less like film. In film, the story keeps going until the writer has decided that it's an appropriate place to end the scene, and then it suddenly switches to another scene. Afterward, it might even jump right back to where the first scene left off. This doesn't strike me as particularly elegant: I think the only reason I'm comfortable with this kind of forced-switching is because I'm so used to it that it barely registers. But there's got to be a more interactive way of doing that.

The problem with the film method is that control is so out of your hands. What if you're enjoying a particular scene so much you want to see it go on longer? Well, too bad. It's decreed that you shouldn't see the continuation (even though there is one) until you jump to a different scene. And contrariwise, if a scene's really dull, you can't go see what's going on anywhere else. You have to wait patiently.

I guess what I'm advocating is along the same lines as the game flow control post. The player ought to be given the tools to decide for himself when to switch from A-plot to B-plot.

I guess it's not good enough to let the player decide - you need to let them make an informed opinion. If the two storylines are going to come together in the end, what happens when you play through an entire branch all the way to the end, and haven't even started the other one?

You know, this really isn't as complicated as I thought it would be. Now that I'm thinking it through, I realize that you just need to lock the parts of the story which (for whatever reason) the player isn't ready for yet. You don't need to explain it, you just say "You can't continue until you go back and check out what you missed." in some simple way like putting a padlock icon on the screen and offering a button to go straight to what you missed. So if you switch from story A to story B, and the two stories eventually meet up, then when you get a bit before that point in B it'll give you a button to jump back to exactly where you left off in A. Makes sense.

Sorry if this is a bit rambly, I'm just working out my thoughts. You understand.

I'm not sure it's a good idea to always force the player to play through everything. Surely some parts are optional, no? You know how whenever they edit a movie, there are good bits which they cut out because they're inessential? Well, why not keep that kind of thing in, but make it perfectly clear that it's optional and can be skipped? Let's say a minor character leaves the story, and the writer has come up with some great scene for him, but it has nothing to do with the rest of the story? So a notification pops up on the screen saying that a new optional scene has been unlocked, and you can go to that whenever.

But it isn't really whenever, is it? You want the player to play that while it's still relevant, but you don't want to force him into anything. I mean, if he waits until the end of the game that minor character might be in a totally different place, and the little side-scene will no longer interest anyone.

Let's think out the logistics of all this. There really needs to be a map of the story, with lots of lines of different colors, the colors indicating whether you've played it already and whether it's optional. (Or maybe just whether you've played it; "optional" could be an icon of some sort.) So you see how the storylines branch out and reconnect, and where you stand in the whole thing. It would also have a name for each storyline (which you'd see by clicking on its line), saying which character stars in it and maybe roughly how long it is. All this stuff could sometimes be a spoiler, so you hide it then. But there could be a red vertical line at some point on the map, saying "We won't let you know what happens next, but you can't continue until you " you know what, this is silly. There's no need to be so cryptic. The player can know that two stories are going to intersect, it won't ruin anything. Okay, that's not true. I can think of specific cases where it would ruin some cool surprise. But you can find some kind of work-around in those specific cases. There's certainly no need to make it a regular thing.

I just had a thought about how flashbacks can work, and this is actually specific to Dreams of a Fractured World, an RPG I'd like to make someday. When the character reaches an object that reminds her of her past, that object goes to the menu (Okay, it's not really a menu. But it's the easiest way to explain it without going into a detailed description of the game.) where you can access it at any time. As soon as you see the object, you're brought to the menu and are able to play it, but maybe you don't want to. Since it's just a flashback, there's no rush. But accessing the flashback changes the character's behavior in the present a little bit.. you know what, this is way too specific to Dreams of a Fractured World. I'll just carry on.

I think in exploration games, it makes a lot of sense to keep any settings you're switching between distinct. Like, I have this idea for a game where you're wandering around a world at war, and at any time you can switch to the first time the character was there (years earlier) and the last time the character goes there, years later. And all three are in real-time, they're not just static images. (Okay, the one in the future might be pretty static.) But you can switch back and forth at any time, because it doesn't matter whether you know how each part ends. You can play through the entire past part first, or you can play through the present first and then go back and see how it all started. I think both work, dramatically.

But that kind of total control over progression is only for stories specifically designed for them. Especially exploration, like I said.

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Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions. Do you know Through the Looking Glass? -"Sure!"- When Alice sees the poem "Jabberwocky", it's backwards and she can only read it through the mirror. So I have a tune for Jabberwocky which I can sing backwards, then reverse the audio, like in Twin Peaks, so that it sounds weird. Of course, it would take time to learn to sing it all backwards well. Then there's a tune I've had for a long time, and I'm thinking about maybe writing lyrics for it about Facebook, it goes something like this, Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh... -"That sounds great! Just leave it like that and play it on a kazoo" - No, that's the tune that'll be about Facebook... - "Oh, that's what you were talking about?" - Yeah, the only part I've figured out is something like dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-DAAAAAAA... I've had enough, I'll turn it off, as soon as I know buh-buh-buh-buh. Or something like that. And then there's my song "Ode to your face": "When I last saw your face, it was raining/and moonlight shone in from the moon..." And there's a game I play with a friend of mine, where I play something which sounds really serious on the piano, and then just as it's reaching its climax, I switch to this cheery little "space battle" theme, dah-bada-da-bada-da-da-da. So there could be a "space battle" track which sounds like epic science fiction music -"Like John Williams"- Yeah, exactly, and then that resolves, but then I keep sticking in these tracks in between the other music, which sounds like totally new and serious compositions, but always turn back into the goofy little classical theme. Then, at the end, there's another one of these, and the listener knows exactly where it's going. But it reaches the climax, and instead of going back to the usual punchline, it just leads to another climax, which is even bigger, and that leads to yet another climax, because it keeps just building and building and it's getting ridiculous. And then it turns into Brahms' Lullaby!- duh-duh DEH, duh-duh DEH -and it's got little hints of everything else in the album, and then at the end, when the listener isn't expecting it anymore, there's the last few notes of the space theme and that's the end of the album.

Monday, October 19, 2009

The correct way for How I Met Your Mother to end

I mentioned earlier that I've been watching How I Met Your Mother. Very good show. I started watching around Thursday or so. I've only watched the first two seasons so far, so this opinion may change, but I'm convinced that there's only one correct way for the show to end.

I'm speaking, of course, about the question of how Ted meets the kids' mother. (If that means nothing to you, then you aren't watching the show and won't be interested in this post.) Some people say it should happen only at the very end, some people say it should happen some time in the last season, some people say it should happen long before the end and there should be more story after that, some people say it should never happen at all. I'm with the people who say that he should only meet her at the very end. But I'm going to be more specific, and say he can't meet her until the last minute of the series.

The final episode needs to bring back discarded plot points and characters from every single episode. The plot needs to be so outrageous that it lets the random details of continuity throw the characters to places no viewer could ever have expected, and which only make any kind of sense because of the many years of episodes building up to that moment. In the last minute, as they're knee-deep in the chaos of all their continuity crashing around them, Ted meets a girl we've never seen before who just so happens to be in that place at that time. And they either have the most bland meeting you can imagine, or an actively hostile one. (I'm partial to the idea of them meeting by her slapping him in the face.)

"And that's how I met your mother!" It cuts back to the couch, with the "kids" now adults because this story has taken so ridiculously long. (The boy now has a long beard.) For the first time in the series the two of them are on the edge of their seat waiting to hear what happens next. They beg to be told how their parents fell in love from that bizarre beginning. "Well, that's a long story. It all began with a [insert crazy non sequitur here]..."

..and credits.

2 Comments:

Blogger Richie said:

This sounds disturbingly similar to the Seinfeld finale.

 Mory said:

That did occur to me. But bringing back characters at the end isn't exactly a strange idea. Anyway, here the purpose of the gag is different: it's not to show how crazy the show has been, but to give an excuse for why Ted was going on and on and on about random stories when his kids just wanted to know how he met their mother. The punchline here would be that each of those stories (improbably) actually was absolutely necessary background for the actual story, which in the end doesn't turn out to be too interesting.

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Matchmaker

so I'm jumping into another play.


From Wikipedia:
The Matchmaker is a play by Thornton Wilder. The play has a long and colorful history. John Oxenford's 1835 one-act farce A Day Well Spent had been extended
Actually, let's skip through the colorful history -it's not that colorful. We can sum it up by noting that the lack of originality in popular entertainment is nothing new.
…the expansion of a previously minor character named Dolly Gallagher Levi, who became the play's centerpiece. A widow who brokers marriages and other transactions in Yonkers, New York at the turn of the 20th Century, she sets her sights on local merchant Horace Vandergelder, who has hired her to find him a wife. After a series of slapstick situations involving mistaken identities, secret rendezvous behind carefully-placed screens, separated lovers, and a trip to night court, everyone finds themselves paired with a perfect match.

The play was a success at the Edinburgh Festival in Scotland and at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane in London's West End before finally opening on Broadway on December 5, 1955 at the Royale Theatre, later transferring to the Booth to complete its run of 486 performances. … In 1964, the play enjoyed yet another incarnation when David Merrick, who had produced the 1955 Broadway production, mounted a hugely successful, Tony Award-winning musical version entitled Hello, Dolly!
You've probably heard of that one. I only knew about it from the snippets in WALL•E, and from my father singing "Hello, deli!" any time we ate deli sandwiches. (He's never thought it out past those two words, so those are the complete lyrics right there.) So the story is fresh to me, even though it's a 50-year-old play based on a 175-year-old play. The Matchmaker isn't a musical, which is new ground for me, and it looks like it'll actually be funny, which is also new ground for me. (I kid. No I don't.)

The auditions were on Wednesday. A "45-second comedic monologue from a witty play" was called for, so Yakir Feldman lent me (on VHS) the movie The Goodbye Girl, I watched it, and then I learned a good monologue from it. He was absolutely right, it was exactly what I was looking for.-------
Not everyone in the world is after your magnificent body, lady. In the first place, it's not so magnificent. It's fair, but it ain't keeping my up nights. I don't even think you're very pretty. Maybe if you smiled once in a while, okay, but I don't want you to do anything against your religion. And you are not the only person in this city who's ever been dumped on. I myself am a recent dumpee. I'm a dedicated actor, Paula, you know? I'm dedicated to my art and my craft. I value what I do. And because of a mentally arthritic director, I'm now playing the second-greatest role in the history of English-speaking theater like a double order of California fruit salad!
I think I can do it pretty well. And not anything like it was done in the movie- I've got my own take on the material.

Anyway, none of that mattered because by the auditions the director had changed her mind. Her name's Tanya. She decided, without telling anyone, that she'd rather have people read out of the scripts than have them prepare other monologues. Everyone who came (I counted five, including myself.) was disappointed to hear this. Some insisted on doing their monologues anyway. I didn't, which means I'm probably going to have these random lines of dialogue rattling through my head until the day I die, but what the heck. They're good lines, my head can survive it. Two of the actors who auditioned I recognized: a guy who was with me in 1776, and a girl who was in Oklahoma!.

I auditioned together with someone who claimed he knew me through the Feldmans. I remember one time when I was at the Feldmans that someone came in and said I knew him, and everyone acted shocked when I didn't know who he was. That may or may not be this same guy, but it makes his story plausible so I'm inclined to believe him. The audition went decently, though I felt like he was getting all the good lines and I was just saying "Holy cabooses!" a lot. But I had to play that role because he's older and one character needs to be older than the other. Then the director told us to improvise with the characters. That didn't go well; I've never done acting improv before. I tried to play along, but I just didn't think fast enough and the end result was awkward. Though it might have made sense that it was awkward. No, it probably didn't. I just messed up. Anyway, the other guy left and I stuck around.

I stayed because Tanya said that (after she got her flat tire fixed) she'd let me read again. I was eager to snatch up this opportunity for four reasons: because I wasn't entirely satisfied with how I'd done, because there was nothing in particular waiting for me at home, and because if I tried to make the director happy, I'd be more likely to get a part. At the time I didn't think about why she was asking me to stay, but I think it was because the turn-out was so poor that she wanted a male auditioner to have someone to read lines with. (She seems more interested in how we act together with other people than how we act on our own.)

So I went back to read again, and in the meantime I'd come up with a different way to play the role. So I read the same lines off of this other guy (who'd just replaced Tanya's tire and therefore seemed confident), who wasn't as good as the first one. And I read my part in a different voice than before. Afterward I asked Tanya whether it was better or worse, and she said it was "Definitely better.". So I kept doing that. She then had us try two other parts.

But I think by that point I wasn't really being judged anymore. She'd already said to me that she thought I had a talent for comedy. I don't really know whether she was telling the truth or not, because she doesn't have Asperger's Syndrome and I'm not a telepath. But she insisted that she wasn't just being "nice", if that's worth anything. Anyway, I mentioned all this to a whole bunch of people, and the response has been split along pretty clear lines. The people who know me as a casual acquaintance all responded with a "Sure! You're funny!". And the people who actually know me (family, friends) all responded by laughing hysterically. I'll let you know when I decide which side I agree with.

(Holy cabooses that's a ramble. Please take the length of this post only as a sign of how excited I am about everything, and not as a personal offense to you and your free time. Thank you.)

Today (technically yesterday but I haven't gone to sleep yet so I'm still calling it "today") were the callbacks. I'm almost certain I'm in, if only because so few people seem to have tried to get in. (All four people I met on Wednesday were there.) I'm also almost certain I know which role I'm getting, because while I got to read a few different roles (including the one I hadn't gotten to read on Wednesday; I had to practically beg Tanya to let me read that), there was one role which she never gave to anyone but me. That was the one I did with the weird voice. So apparently she likes that. It's a good part. Not as good as some others, but I get to do all sorts of wacky fun stuff.

When the callbacks started I was nervous and twitchy, but by the end I was having lots of fun. I met a few nice people there, though I'm not sure that counts if I've already forgotten what they look like and what their names were. (And I have.) But they were cool. There was one girl who was playing Dolly sometimes, though she's a few decades too young, and she was great. Everything Tanya had told the others to do, she was doing seemingly effortlessly and with lots of humor. Very impressive. Apparently she's not even going to be in the show (or the country, actually), she just came to help out with the callbacks. There was another woman I talked with while she graciously drove me near the central bus station, who is a doctor with ADD who in America would use her impressive skill with accents to convince people of other races that she was "one of them" and that they should listen to what she's saying. Astounding.

See, I'm having all this fun and I'm not even in yet. And of course I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I only find out whether I'm in (and if so who I'll be playing) at the beginning of the next month. But I do think I'm going to be in, and I'm really excited. This could be so many kinds of fun.

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Friday, October 16, 2009

Pussywillow's embarrassing jump

Pussywillow is getting over a bit of a mid-life crisis lately. He was spending almost all his time outdoors, until one day he noticed a box in our hallway that hadn't been there before. So he spent many hours in that box, and though the box is now gone he seems much more enthusiastic about the house again. He wanders through rooms he knows like the back of his paw, trying to find some spot to curl up in that he hasn't found yet.

The upshot of all this for me is that in the past week he's gone back to curling up in my lap, which is something he hadn't done in a while. And he just stays in my lap and purrs for a long time, longer than I can remember him doing before. I love cats.

Anyway, this is all just a preamble to a cute story from maybe a half hour ago. Willy wanted to come in, so of course I let him in in a hurry. He ate, started hopping around some bags by the wall to see if there were any good spots for curling up in them, and when he didn't find any he excitedly started running upstairs like he wanted to curl up in my lap as I sat by my computer.

He was so eager, that rather than walking up the steps he tried jumping up to the next floor, or more accurately he tried to jump up to the stack of DVDs that was on the chest that was on the next floor, since (in fairness) that was the most direct route. I'm not sure if he's done that before. But it's not a good idea. I was sitting at my computer waiting for him to come up, when suddenly I saw him trying desperately to hold on to the DVDs (and failing miserably). He fell back down onto the stairs.

I went over to see if he was okay, and he didn't want me to touch him. When I tried, he ran downstairs as though he was just trying to get away as fast as possible. I considered waiting for him to calm down, but then he meowed at me to let him out. So I opened the front door, waited for him to take two tiny steps out, then called him back, and of course he ran back in. Suddenly he didn't seem embarrassed anymore, he just wanted me to pet him. Now he's asleep in my lap. He's twitching a lot but I'm petting him to calm him down. I adore this cat.


That was entirely too much detail.

Right, you don't like cats. Well, I find this story very cute.
I think you're obsessed with that creature.
Okay.
Look, he is pretty much my only company most of the time.
Well, whose fault is that.
Excuse me?
You heard me.
Yeah. Look, you don't exist. I'm sorry, but I get more out of a cat who I can pet and care about than a person who is entirely in my head.
Disclaimer: The statement "Look, you don't exist." was a factual inaccuracy. All characters on this blog exist as data on the internet, as well as in the minds of the writer and readers. We do not take any responsibility for any reality-biased sentiments which have been expressed, and humbly apologize to all fictional readers who may have been offended.
Great, the blog takes your side. Perfect.

Maybe the blog was talking about itself, did you think about that? Did you think about that for even a moment? Or are you too much of a selfish jerk?! My god, you think the entire world revolves around you!
I do not think
I'm not finished. How long has it been since you let me exist last?
You always exist, in the back of my mind, that's kind of the whole
Oh, how sweet, you unbearable jerk. It's been thirty-five bleeping days, that's how long it's been, you horrible person.
I'm not horrible for doing anything I want with my own creations!
Okay, yeah, you just, you just keep talking. You're just getting better and better here.
What do you want from me? All I can do is pull you out whenever I want to make a point, I'm not going to have my blog revolve around you. For that matter, this post has gone so far off what I intended it doesn't even make sense anymore! What the heck does this fight have to do with Willy missing a jump and feeling embarrassed and trying to enter the house again? If I'd known we were going in this direction I wouldn't have picked that title. And this coloring doesn't exactly make sense except that it's the color of Pussywillow's fur so if the post were about himShut up! Shut up shut up shut up! I don't care about you and your titles and your coloring and your stupid cat! Why don't you just marry that cat and leave me alone! If I'm only going to exist in someone's head, I'd rather it to be my own head! I'm so sick of you, and your excuses, and your plans, and your stupid cat!

Look, maybe we could calm
Go to hell!

*SLAM*

What the heck! There aren't even any doors here! What are you slamming?
I can imagine my own doors!
*SLAM* *SLAM* *SLAM*








Insane, that woman. Wouldn't have it any other way.

Whatever, she'll get over this.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I've gotten a few comments in person, telling me that this isn't a good post. I can kind of see where they're coming from: the imaginary girlfriend bit has gotten repetitive and stale in its unpleasantness. (That means that when I do it again, I'll need to be extra careful to justify the character's existence.) But I wrote this post to lead into the next one, and I think it does a very good job of that. Sometimes I have to remind myself that this blog is for my own amusement, and it doesn't matter so much if readers don't see what I'm doing.

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Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Limits

~Limits

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BlitzMax isn't a very good programming language. I spent a few days trying to get rid of a nasty glitch in the way the game was displaying, a glitch which didn't make any sense to me. I looked over the code over and over, and it all looked correct. So I pinpointed the problem to the specific lines of code that were causing it (though they seemed to be perfectly fine), and then I made a test program to see if the basic function they were using was working. And it's not. This isn't a function I programmed myself, it's a built-in function of BlitzMax. And it doesn't work.

Specifically, what's not working is viewports. A viewport is the area of the screen that the program's allowed to draw to. If I don't want to draw over something, I use a viewport which doesn't include that spot, draw whatever it is I need to draw, and then go back to a viewport that covers the whole screen. This makes sense to me. Apparently it doesn't make sense to BlitzMax. Tests have shown me that when dealing with images (rather than shapes), the viewports only work on the X axis. If I tell it not to draw on a certain portion of the Y axis, it just ignores me. This is why my game, which I painstakingly programmed to not draw things in the wrong place, has gray rectangles showing up where I specifically told them not to go.

I asked the BlitzMax programming community to help me out, and they responded with a general "What, viewports? You've gotta be kidding!". Okay, so not that rudely, but politeness is not helpfulness. Apparently BlitzMax's viewport function is notorious for only working with specific graphics cards, so people who program in BlitzMax never use them. There is no alternate function that does the same thing; you just don't do that if you want your code to work. One user suggested a function he'd programmed himself, which lets you draw a part of an image rather than an entire image. That wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I figured with some creativity and time I could probably get it to do what I wanted. So I tried using it, and immediately got a compile error. This function is apparently broken. And since I don't understand any of what it's doing (that would take a more advanced understanding of BlitzMax's inner workings), I can't really learn anything useful from it either.

So here's where I stand. Ever since I decided that I really wanted to program, every day I didn't program was a day I felt slightly depressed in. I can't program my game, because I'm running into a glitch to which there is apparently no fix. I started watching yet another TV show (How I Met Your Mother this time) to make myself feel better. It's working okay; it distracts me from my problems for a little bit. I've also been playing piano a lot, and playing more games than usual. But eventually I'm going to have to get bak to working. And while I do want that, I'm scared that I'm going to spend hours and lots of effort on this game only to find that what I'd like to do isn't something that's doable for some inane reason which I can't possibly predict right now. (If not the viewports, then something else.) What if I really can't do this?

No, I'm not really being serious there. I can do this. If I'm patient, the problem with the viewports will disappear. Maybe I need to rethink the whole way the game is functioning, but there's gotta be a way to get around that. And then something else will pop up, and I'll deal with it, and so on. Programming isn't supposed to be this annoying, is it?

2 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

While I definitely don't think March of Bulk needs to be made in another programming language, I would strongly suggest that you start looking into XNA and the whole C++, C#, Visual Basic programming thing.

I haven't had time to really get into it, but from what I understand, learning to use XNA could lead into a much broader framework for making games. It is harder to use at first, but in the long run will open much more potential. I also suspect that Microsoft does a very good job of support their products.

Check out http://creators.xna.com/en-US/. It might be a little painful in the short term, but it will have huge benefits in the long term.

 Mory said:

Update: I programmed a function that mimics viewports, using the other function I mentioned, and it looks totally broken. I can see from how it's being drawn that all the math is right, but this function-on-a-function is too imprecise. Clearly the forum is not going to be any help, so I'll need to find some creative way of making it look right without using viewports along the Y axis.

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Saturday, October 10, 2009

Another one for the pile of regrets

The annual ICon science fiction convention in Tel Aviv was this week. I've gone before, but it's always a pain to go to Tel Aviv. Or more accurately, the pain is in getting back. When I'm there I'm constantly afraid that I'll miss the last train (which is early) and have to sleep on the street and starve to death because there's no kosher food anywhere. I really don't like Tel Aviv.

Now that the convention's over, I find out that the guest of honor was Bill Willingham, who writes one of my favorite comics (Fables). To see him talk I would have gone to Tel Aviv in a heartbeat. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I missed it.

Why didn't I know he was there? Because I never even bothered to check the ICon website. I am so mad at myself right now.

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Sunday, October 4, 2009

The Garden: Role-Playing

There is one Form used entirely for storytelling, another Form used for resolving short-term conflicts, and a simulation strategy system for long-term planning. When these three distinct gameplay systems are present and dominant, you've got a computer role-playing game.

This complex Form should not be confused with the original (Dungeons & Dragons-style) role-playing games, which I think were actually a simple Form. Sadly, I have not had the opportunity to spend any significant amount of time role-playing in the old sense, so anything I say on that subject ought to be taken with a grain of salt. But it seems to me that the dominant element of original role-playing is the improvisation of a story. This improvisation is usually guided by a "game master", a player who controls the world of the game. Lots of rules (and therefore strategy, puzzles, and luck) were added on to make the game more consistently entertaining, but they were subordinate elements to the improvised storytelling.

At some point, someone came up with the bright idea of having computer games mimic role-playing. It obviously didn't really work, because you can't really improvise a story within the rigid framework of a computer program (and without a human game master guiding you along). So a lot of the complicated structure of role-playing games was kept intact, but with much less focus underneath it. That's the computer role-playing game, which for the sake of convenience I'm going to refer to as the RPG.

Like any complex Form, the RPG's primary content is story. The genre is almost always fantasy or science fiction, and the format of that story is also rather specific. It's a story where the player is given:
  • Context for the character(s), in relationships and history and ongoing plot
  • The opportunity to experience the moment-to-moment struggles of the character(s)
  • The opportunity to chart out how the player would like the character(s) to progress
So even though the triple-faceted structure of the RPG comes from a strange place, it does make a certain amount of sense. The player is experiencing the lives of a character or group of characters from three very different angles, each one simple in itself but together forming a more comprehensive view of the story.

Let's start with the simulation strategy, since it's what RPGs have come to be most known for. The traditional RPG simulation is built around a vast collection of statistics. Some numbers represent how strong a character is, some represent how skilled the character is at specific tasks, some represent how well-defended against specific kinds of attacks. There is almost always a central number of general experience for each character, called "experience points" or "EXP", which pushes all the other statistics up when it reaches predetermined points. All this comes handed down from Dungeons & Dragons.

Where the strategy comes in is in deciding which attributes to augment, and which collectible items to use -such as weapons, armor or spells- to do that. There is typically a wide array of items to find in a game of many types, each with its own strengths and weaknesses. Another important decision the player needs to make is when to engage in conflicts. If a conflict is won, experience points are gained. But if a conflict is lost, the player loses progress. So the player needs to choose his conflicts carefully, fighting when better statistics are needed but running away when the risk is too great. The player needs to decide how to best use money to acquire the items necessary for conflicts. Finally, a player can usually decide on the characters' jobs or skills, which can drastically change what those characters' roles in the conflicts will be later. (Granted, little of this strategy is very involved in most RPGs. But if you imagine each element of the strategy taking itself seriously, you can see why this complicated simulation makes gamistic sense.)

This set of rules is almost constant among all RPGs, and has become so associated with the Form that any game (of any Form) which uses experience points or (to a lesser degree) collectible skill-endowing items is said to have "RPG elements". Nonetheless, the definition I've given of RPGs does not assume the presence of any of these specific rules, just that there should be a simulation strategy system of some sort controlling long-term character growth. The list of standard rules I've mentioned should be seen as a long-standing tradition, nothing more.

The conflicts themselves have a similarly long-standing tradition, but there's been much more experimentation with radically different kinds of gameplay. The tradition is that conflicts should be a battle strategy game (distinct from the simulation strategy), where the player and the computer take turns picking actions to take. These actions are usually as simple as one character attacking another character, though a series of menus is usually provided to allow more complicated operations such as using items in supply and supporting other characters. Each character has a statistic called "hit points", which indicates how far away from death that character is. That particular element is so useful that it appears in nearly every version of the RPG. The battle normally continues until either all the player's characters or all the computer's characters are killed or incapacitated, at which point play resumes from wherever the player was before.

A sub-Form called the "tactical RPG", "simulation RPG" or "strategy RPG" (depending on who you ask) expands each battle into a much longer and more sophisticated strategy game. In such games battles can involve moving characters around a large board, interacting with objects or buildings in the area, and even speaking with non-player characters. As such, the storytelling Form (while still present) is minimized in importance and length, since many of the elements it would provide the RPG with are already covered by the battles themselves.

Another sub-Form of the RPG is the "action RPG", which as you might imagine uses a direct action game for its battles. The player controls one character (with any other characters on the same side being controlled either by computer or by other players), and moves around and fights with that one character. This action game can take any form; the most bizarre I've seen was Sigma Star Saga, in which the battles were side-scrolling space shooters. I've also played one game (Mario Tennis: Power Tour) in which the battles were tennis matches.

There are lots of different RPG battle systems out there. Some are hybrids of action and strategy. The strangest I'm familiar with is the sub-Form "puzzle RPG", which has for its battles abstract puzzles. The reason RPG conflicts haven't been stretched any farther than that is because RPGs are expected to tell fantasy action stories, and there are only so many Forms that can fit that narrow genre. Theoretically there are few Forms that couldn't serve as the conflicts in an RPG of some other genre.

A battle can start at any point during the game: it can start by itself at random intervals, it can be started by the player deliberately (making that choice a part of the simulation strategy), or it can be started by a plot point in the storytelling section.

Now let's talk about that storytelling section. The most usual medium for it is a complex combination of adventure game and film. It could work just as well (or better) with a simple Form -either adventure or film, one without the other- but this particular combination allows the developer to eat their cake and still have it: to say that their storytelling is interactive, but to make all relevant points of the story 100% noninteractive. In truth, there's no need for this section of the game to be interactive. Tactical RPGs rarely have interactive storytelling in this third section. I don't know what public reaction would be like, but gamistically speaking it's perfectly valid to have nothing outside the conflicts and strategy except film. I also think that the adventure game is perfectly capable of handling whatever emotions the plot requires all on its own. Other possible Forms are comics, text, audio, multiplayer improvisation (to be more like Dungeons & Dragons), puzzles, strategy, pure exploration, or even some sort of story-writing tool which would leave the story entirely up to the player. Just so long as the story that's not being told via strategy and conflicts is being told somehow, it doesn't matter what the format is.

But few of these options have been seriously explored, and most RPGs just use adventures with cutscenes. There's nothing to say about the cutscenes (It's film. You know film.), but the adventure part has accumulated some traditions of its own. The game will normally be split between areas that are thin on plot but heavy on conflicts, and towns free of conflict but heavy on plot. This affords the player a break from the tension of constant fighting. In the towns there are usually many people who need help; this help usually boils down to getting things from one person and bringing them to another person, a simplification of the adventure game formula. There can also be puzzles and exploration, since those activities are associated with adventure games as well. This adventure-lite gameplay is a small element of RPGs, but it was fleshed out into an entire game in the RPG-derivative Animal Crossing which also inherits from the simulation strategy system those elements that one would find in an RPG town (collecting, shopping).


I've already mentioned all the sub-Forms that you get just by substituting some kind of gameplay for the battles. Another important sub-Form is the massively multiplayer online RPG, which builds an entire online society on the foundation of traditional role-playing games. The wide range of perspectives on a character that the RPG brings to the table are perfectly suited for the experience of creating and maintaining a character in a virtual world.


The only Form that the RPG is particularly close to is the strategy game, since most RPGs have strategy as two-thirds of the experience. The game Warcraft III danced around a little on the border between real-time strategy games and RPGs, so it's worth bringing up. The game was a standard RTS with cutscenes like its predecessors (though perhaps with more cutscenes than its predecessors), with base-building and deploying troops and searching the map for the enemy and trying to break past their defenses and all the elements you'd expect. But the game also gave the player a single "hero" character, which would get EXP and items and learn new skills. Warcraft III is certainly a strategy game, but whether you also call it an RPG depends on how dominant you find the elements of simulation strategy in the larger experience. If they are subordinate to the RTS gameplay, then it is not an RPG. Otherwise it is. (I say it's not.)


There are many possible genres that RPGs could tackle: soap-opera, comedy, political, horror, abstract. Each would doubtless demand a different kind of simulation and a different kind of conflict gameplay. That explains why these subjects haven't been tried. But I do think that in the future, they will be. Some day, RPGs may be the most broad category of game out there with a kind of character to appeal to any person on Earth. The online RPG communities will become bigger and more welcoming, and much of the world will identify more with the RPGs they hang out in than the countries they live in or the races they were born to.

Meanwhile the single-player RPG will evolve in a radically different direction. They will get shorter and more focused, with more interesting characters experienced in more diverse ways. Those without the luxury of time will gravitate to these shorter experiences, designed to be played for short periods at a time. Some RPGs will be serialized, with new plot points being introduced that the player's version of the character will react to in his/her own way. Judging by potential, I fully expect the RPG to replace movies and TV as the most popular storytelling medium for any genre.

When gamism expands to interface directly with our brains, and everyone intuitively understands how to play the most complex RPG just by turning it on, RPGs will be both the place to get mind-expanding experiences, and the place where everyone in the world goes to relax. Single-player RPGs will let players understand interesting characters more fully than they understand themselves. And multiplayer RPGs will finally have the technical capability to bring back the element of improvisation, to allow the millions of players of the game to together determine how the story plays out. Like most everything about the RPG, its future is complicated but exciting.

Droplets: Role-Playing

Adventure game (with dynamic interface) for conflicts. There are branching paths, where one wins the conflict and one loses the conflict and either way the game continues. Progress in the simulation strategy unlocks paths in the conflicts, and not all those paths would be good. (But it's always nice to have more options available.) You'd have to keep making decisions of which option to choose, and it would never be entirely obvious which is best.

Dealing with several teams of characters, rather than characters on their own. You decide who goes in what team, try to get the teams to work together, and then most of the moves you have in conflicts are joint attacks that an entire team pulls off together. Statistics like experience points, and specific items, are thrown out. All the simulation strategy comes from getting people to work together.

An RPG set in the real world about managing a business. There is no violence: conflicts are arguments, usually with employees but sometimes with the bosses (and I mean the word literally). In the long-term, you're positioning the company to compete in a harsh economy. Meanwhile, you're dealing with personal problems at home. So you've got conflicts, strategic planning, and story context, but it's a totally different genre of story!

Simulation strategy following the model of Civilization, with real-time strategy battles. When you're not fighting and there are no pressing matters of state, you explore your kingdom and watch the people in it just living their lives, and in their behavior you understand how social and technological progress is affecting them (both negatively and positively). You also get to wander through all the magnificent cities you're building, and the landmarks which are a testament to the greatness of your empire. So as you're playing emperor, you're also thinking about the story of your people and how everything you do affects them. So again, there are conflicts and planning and context, and it's an untapped genre for RPGs.

An RPG whose storytelling Form is an RPG whose storytelling Form is an RPG whose storytelling Form is an RPG whose storytelling Form is an RPG. Yeah, I'm not exactly sure how that works either. :D

An RPG serving the purpose of a puzzle, where the player can travel backwards and forwards through time as needed but the character doesn't. The character is off on a very-nearly-impossible-but-not-quite fantasy quest. "Not quite", because there is one (and only one) very complicated way to play the game in which the character can possibly survive the story. The time-traveling isn't a part of the story, it's the way you figure out what that one correct timeline is. You can rewind the story as much as you like, and you can fast-forward the story as much as you like. Rewinding undoes anything that's happened (good or bad), and fast-forwarding skips all the tedious gaining of experience. So you can tell your character to get better at a certain job, then fast forward until he's amazing at it. But by that point years have passed, and the world has gotten much scarier in that time. So you rewind until you're just good enough to beat whoever it is you know you need to beat. The important fights can't be fast-forwarded through, you need to do them yourself. And they're really complicated strategy games (which are entirely unwinnable unless you've meddled with the timeline right). You look for the points in the timeline where the bad guys gain their power, and try to prevent those. Oh, but look at me go on. I do think I'd very much enjoy this game.

A serialized space opera RPG, Star Trek-style. What's being simulated is the goings-on on a starship, where you try to promote those who are doing a good job, decide what to do with those who aren't, deal with morale problems, and generally improve the efficiency of your crew. It's not precisely predictable, but you can usually guess how your crew is going to react to your actions, so this is strategic. The efficiency of the ship matters for space battles, and the morale of the crewmembers (and their relationships with each other) determines how they'll behave on missions. In each episode you come to an alien planet, learn about the situation via an adventure game, and encounter many problems that call for RTS fights. Nothing you do can ever be taken back. Depending on how your ship and crew are functioning, it might be very difficult to get the good ending in an episode.

A soap-opera text RPG. You have a complicated flow chart showing how everyone feels about everyone (this would include a lot of statistics and facts), and the strategy is in trying to get that to someplace healthier. So you try to pull people away from people who are no good for them, and get them to spend time with people who you think are good for them. Because there are so many possibilities to program, the way it plays out is read in plain text. Conflicts are conversations, as turn-based strategy. You pick one person to play in the conversation, and the other part will be automated. You have a lot of options of what to say or do, and each one says exactly how that would effect the statistics. But the other character also has a bunch of options of what to say or do, that effect the statistics just as much, and you can't control what the computer will pick. (The computer might pick any of them, but some are much more likely than others and that all depends on the statistics.)

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

There are probably some notable sub-Forms which I've overlooked; I'm not particularly qualified to know. That lack of qualification is why I've put off writing this post for so long. But I figure it's better to get it out of the way than hide from it. If I'm wrong about things, I'm wrong about things.

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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Yom Kippur music

Sometimes I wish I weren't a musician.

Two years ago my father, who was doing the Kol Nidrei service of Yom Kippur, asked me if we could do a duet of Kol Achai's "Rachamana". I doubt there was ever a question in my mind of whether to do it or not- I probably said yes automatically. Any chance to do music. So we imitated the way they sing it as best as we could, given that we were working with only two voices rather than three and didn't have musical instruments accompanying us. It went very well.

One year ago my father suggested that I compose a new duet for us to sing. Again, I jumped at the opportunity. The chance to compose something and have an entire congregation hear it? The reason things like that are called "no-brainers" is because the ear automatically activates a nodding motion in the head, without bothering to go through the brain on the way. I composed a tune for "El Melech", which repeats four times but doesn't really have a tune associated with it. I remember that for a while that tune was all that was on my mind. I came up with a tune as soon as I read the words, and you'd think that that would be close to the end but I'm a perfectionist, so, no. Wherever I went, whatever I did, it was always in the back of my head demanding to be improved. It needed to reflect the meaning of the words. It needed to present the words clearly, with all the accents in the right places and all the ups and downs and rhythms of the music reflected the way you'd actually speak the words if you understood what you were saying. And it needed to be musically interesting because otherwise, what's the point? It took me a while to come up with a version I was happy with, and then I sang it for my father and he couldn't follow it. I explained that it would be easier to understand all the sudden changes of key if the harmony were there, but he just couldn't learn the melody. So I had to simplify it as much as I could possibly simplify it without feeling like I'd lost all interest. And then he learned it, and we practiced, and I sang the harmony, and it went great.

This year, my father told me he'd like me to compose something new. There are still plenty of parts of the service that don't have any good tunes for them. This time I actually wanted to get out of the job, because it seemed terribly unclear. He didn't have any idea of which poem I should do, and so I wouldn't have felt comfortable composing for any of them. I don't understand how it all flows together, I don't understand what he's got good tunes for already, I don't know what the congregation expects. It felt more like a passing whim of his than a real opportunity. So I half-heartedly said that he should get back to me with whichever poem he wanted me to compose music for. He was out of the country shortly after that, so he never got back to me and I got out of the request.

(Obviously that's not the end of the story, or else I wouldn't be writing a blog post about this.)

A week ago, my father informed me out of the blue that a member of the congregation had requested a certain tune for "El Melech". Apparently, some time too long ago for me to remember, there was someone (who now doesn't live here) who organized a proper four-part chorus for a little piece of "El Melech". Not the whole thing, just a few words starting from "mochel avonot amo". So this request came from a member of the congregation who'd been in that choir and was feeling nostalgic for the tune. It's a typical kind of tune, in that it has absolutely no connection to the words except that those words happen to have been dropped in. The accents are all in the wrong places, and the words are repeated over and over again until you're not hearing the words anymore, you're just hearing random sounds attached to music. What it does have going for it is it's catchy, and people can sing along to it because it repeats itself over and over. Anyway, when I heard this request I really ought to have just said no, and I knew at the time that I ought to say no, but then my father played a video of the music from YouTube and at that point I had no conscious choice in the matter. I'd already figured out exactly what I needed to do, so there wasn't even a question anymore that I'd be doing it.

Like I said, it's just a few words from the middle. So what I needed to do was start in my tune, then shift into the traditional tune, do that similarly to how it was done in the video (though with only two voices of limited range to work with), and then go back. I ran to the piano, confirmed that this could in fact be done, and ran back upstairs to inform my father that I'd be putting this in. And then I started working in the composition program Finale, because there was absolutely nothing else I cared to do at that moment. I'm not going to detail the entire process I went through to arrange the thing, because I'm sure it would bore you all to tears, but suffice it to say I worked all that night and then I went to sleep and woke up early (10:00 AM or so) and got back to work and kept working until around 1:30 PM at which point it was finished. I spent the rest of the day waiting for my father to come home, but he didn't come home until shortly before I left for Games Night.

That was Tuesday. The guilt started setting in on Thursday, after I'd already practiced a few times with my father. Thursday is when it occurred to me that just because someone had had the idle thought that he'd enjoy having a certain tune in the davening, my entire existence now revolved around this piece of music. (Up to that point, I was acting too much on instinct to recognize what I was doing.) Since Tuesday it hadn't even occurred to me to work on The March of Bulk! And even as I was entertaining myself, it was always with the understanding that the only reason I was bothering was because there wasn't anything to do about the music at that moment. I was just passing the time until I'd get to work on the music again. I was reading Spider-Man comics, and on every single page I was humming "Mochel Avonot" to myself. That's where I started to get disturbed by my own behavior. For the entire day, that tune didn't leave my head. I kept flipping it around, sticking different rhythms on it, playing with variations. And this is after I'd already printed out the sheet music and had nothing more to do with it except get my father to perfect his part. Now you have to understand, I didn't feel guilty because I had lost control. I felt guilty because I was losing control over entirely the wrong thing. Can you imagine how quickly I would have finished The March of Bulk if I worked on it like that? That's the kind of devotion that you need to get anywhere, and I have it! But I have it for the wrong thing! Why am I a natural musician, rather than a natural gamist!

I decided that thinking this way was only going to hinder me. I don't know, maybe it's just that I was in a pre-Yom Kippur kind of mood (self-improvement and all that), but I suddenly had the idea that rather than complaining to myself about this I ought to change it. If I want to be an obsessive gamist, then I need to be an obsessive gamist. Nature be damned. I need to convince myself that I love working on games more than anything else in the world. I love working on games. Working on games is fulfilling. When I'm not working on games I feel in the back of my mind like I'd rather be working on games. So I set a time for Access Boss to log me off, and then I thought, why not now? I was really excited to be working on my game. I couldn't wait to solve the next problem I came across. How could I do anything else when my game was waiting? So I just stopped what I was reading in mid-sentence, logged off my user, went into the work user, and started working. I worked for a good hour and a half, and I daresay it was the most fulfilling hour and a half of programming I've ever done. I made real progress. And I said to myself, I'm not so bad. I'm not a musician, I'm going to be a gamist.

I'm going to be a gamist.

The end of the story is barely relevant, but I'll mention it anyway. On Sunday night, right after the fast started, my father and I walked to shul. And he said that he really should have taken anxiety medicine. In retrospect, he was absolutely right. He was so nervous when we got to El Melech that his hand was literally shaking. He was trying to point his finger at the notes, and it was shaking all over the place. He gave me the note he was going to start on, so that I could do the harmony on key, and as I started singing at the top of my lungs he started singing in a totally different key than the one he'd just told me. And then he proceeded to make lots of new mistakes that he'd never done in practice. I don't blame him- I've been there. But my god, was that frustrating. El Melech repeats four times. The first two were my tune, straight. And it was a total disaster. The third was the more complicated, tune-within-a-tune music. That was a disaster too, though in different ways. On the fourth time, I got up and said to my father, "Calm down.". And he said to me, "I can't." But apparently he did, because that time we pulled it off. And Rachamana went well, as always. When I left the shul I went out the back way, walking very quickly with my head facing the ground so I wouldn't have to look at anyone. And I tried to walk to the sides of the path, so that I could avoid any people who happened to be walking.

But that's beside the point.

The point is, I'm not sure my games are ever going to be good. I'm afraid that my powers of self-deception and self-improvement are insufficient to overcome my basic nature: I am a musician. I don't want to be a musician, but I was born a musician and that's what I'll always be. And I'm not going to blow anyone away with my music, because I don't want to blow anyone away with my music. If I were to become a good musician, well, that would be the most natural thing in the world for me. If I started putting out CDs, and really challenged myself to live up to the responsibility. I'd put so much effort in, just because that's who I am, that everyone would be impressed. But I don't want to be a good musician. I don't want that to be my life. I want to make games. I want to be a gamist. But that's not something I'm naturally good at. It's something I'm going to need to work at. I really want to get right on that. I really do. I really do. Maybe tomorrow.

3 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

I think you might like to here something I heard from a painting teacher a while ago. He pointed out that there are many child musical prodigies, but there are no child abstract expressionist painting prodigies. In the same way there are no child architect prodigies, there are no child animator prodigies. And there simply are no child gamist prodigies.

The reason for this is fairly simple, some art forms are simply so entrenched in levels of complexity that a child prodigy can't take part. There are too many levels of knowledge that need to be attained before the real work really start.

There is also another topic that seems to relate. Some arts get tackled down by technology. A girl in my animation class was struggling with a project simply because she doesn't have a great understanding of the file system we use at school, the use of photoshoph and the use of a completely new piece of animation software. If she was working in a traditional manner, I have little doubt her work would have been much more successful.

What this suggests is that it probably isn't your ability to think up great games that is your current problem, it is the technology behind the games that is holding you back. If the technology was so easy that it was a pleasure to use, like a piano is a pleasure to use, I bet you would have less of a problem sitting down at it everyday.

Hopefully there are some insights in the above mess.

 Mory said:

Thank you, you might be right.

Blogger Nati said:

I may be pointing out the obvious here, but it seems from your account that not only is composing music easier for you and "something you are naturally good at", but it's something that exhilarates you like very few other things can. You say that somebody's idle thought became the centre of your existence, but it sounds to me more like the opportunity to write any kind of music for any kind of reason excited you and pumped you up.

I may be reading a little too much of my own experiences into this, because I discovered a little while ago that I go through a similar reaction in relation to writing. Anything on anything, as long as it involves the use of written words. And I don't even read that much. My life doesn't revolve around other people's texts. But apparently it revolves around mine. I suspect you might be in a similar situation.

I'm not saying be a musician instead of a gamer, but I think it could serve you to respect more what naturally excites you, even if you can't justify it with anything "reasonable" or practical. The effect this has on other people or the reaction it will evoke are less important, I think.

Is it possible to be a little of both?

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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A Vision of Illinois

Previously:
The Trip
We were only in Illinois for two days. I wanted to stay. No, I mean for good- I really do love my grandparents' house. I enjoyed myself just walking back and forth in their house, I love it so much. We didn't do all that much in Illinois, but that's the thing about contentment- it doesn't rely on keeping busy. It didn't take me any time at all from the time we arrived to get settled into "my" room- it really did feel like coming home. I didn't want to go. It was a personal thing, between me and the house. And we had come as a family. We left.
More than a year ago (I can't remember exactly when.), I found out that
my grandparents were trying to sell their house. It's right on a lake,
which never particularly interested me but apparently greatly interests
the tax authority. The yearly taxes are more than my grandparents can
afford. So they've been looking to sell, but the people interested so far
are rich philistines who'd like to tear down this house and build a new
one. They're only interested in the property, they don't care about the
house. Ever since I found out about the house I've wanted to go there
again before it's too late.
I have an image in my head of what I'm looking for. I imagine myself in
their living room, with a big piece of white paper on the coffee table.
I'm pacing around the room, with that coffee table in the middle, a pencil
in my hand. And on that piece of paper I'm charting out my next game.
There's something appealingly romantic (in the old sense of the word)
about traveling to a place I love, away from all my technology and
friends, to get inspiration for an abstract piece. The thing about
Highland Park is, there's not much to do there. That's the point. Just
me and my art. And maybe some rain out the window. For the weather
it needs to be late in the year, but not too late because my
grandparents go to Arizona for the winter. So I talked to my grandfather,
and he gave me two weeks at the end of November. Two weeks doesn't
seem like enough, but that's what he insisted on (I'm worried he plans
to fill my schedule.), so I'm buying a cheap flight for 23 November.

2 Comments:

Toronto home staging said:

What a nice story. I totally understand what you meant and I agree with you - people many times just want property to build a new house on and don't care about the old house and its history at all. That is pretty sad. Anyway, good luck with selling the house to the right people.

Ella

 Mory said:

I was going to delete that comment, since it seems to just be spam, but it's so bizarre a response that I think it's amusing enough to keep up.

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Friday, September 11, 2009

Refuge

You know you're wrong about the whole gender thing.
Oh, how's that.
You seem bored.
Just tired.
Girls are a lot more intelligent than boys.
Sure you are.
Ow! What was that for?
For not accepting me as an equal.
Well, you're not an equal, you're imaginary. But I guess I'll take what I can get.
Ow. Okay. That one I deserved. Sort of.
If I had an evil archnemesis, he'd be exactly like you.
I can live with that.


You know I actually really like you.
Do I know that? I don't think I know that.
You know that.
Okay, maybe I know that. But it's just because you invented me to be your perfect girlfriend.
Perfect? Okay, I wouldn't go that far. But you're like me, that's the point.
I'm nothing like you. I'm much more intelligent, by virtue of being a girl.
Silly me.
I have thoughts that go so far over
You know why I need to be around people like you?
Why?
People like me?
No, why?
Because people who aren't like me just frustrate me.
You know the forum I go to, the Adventure Gamers forum?
No.
Yes you do. Anyway, they have community playthroughs there all the time, and I haven't joined them in a while but I thought that it might be nice to join the next one that they're doing even though I don't know anything about the game. So the person who
What about your game?
What?
The game with the elephant. Why aren't you working on that?
I am. I'm working on it every day. Would you let me continue the story?
Because it seems like with all the working on your game, you shouldn't be bored enough to join one of these "playthroughs" or whatever.
I'm working on my game, but I still have time.

So anyway, the lady who ran the last playthrough I participated in, that one was around a year ago, she was acting really angry at me, like I'd offended her personally by saying my opinion back then. By the way, I always thought this person was a guy. But I just checked in her profile today, and I saw that it's actually a lady. From the Netherlands. So now I've got to correct all these pronouns in my head. Anyway, so she was acting like I'd personally
You are so oblivious.
About people's gender, or about what I'd said a year ago.
See, you have no idea! This is what I'm talking about. Oblivious!
Well, it seems like you could be talking about either thing, so you can't really expect
Oblivious.
Oh, I'm just teasing. Go on with your fascinating story.
So the last playthrough was of a game called The Last Express, and everyone said that it was an amazing game but when we were actually playing I saw that the game didn't really work. And I said so, and I backed up everything I was saying with arguments. But then the end of the game was so unbelievably stupid -it was this sort of thing where the whole game was grounded and about ordinary people in the real world and that's what was interesting about it? And then at the end all the realism is just thrown out the window and it turns into a fairy tale.
That does sound really dumb.
I remember all this because when this lady accused me -she said I was "foaming at the mouth"
I bet you really were.
I was not.
Okay, maybe I was but I had a good reason.
I'm curious.
See, the others were trying to say how it's okay that it's suddenly a fairy tale because there's lots of historical symbolism, where the fantasy is actually the beginning of the World War and stuff like that.
Sounds like they were stretching.
No, no, they actually had a good case. I do think that's what the game's writer intended. But I was saying that it doesn't matter what the symbolism is, it's still out of character. So the way I said that was I wrote "To conclude my point:" and then I said some gibberish, and then I pointed out that even though the gibberish had symbolism in my argument, being a metaphor for the ending of the game, it still had no place in what I was saying because that's not the kind of discussion we were having. It was a serious discussion, so gibberish doesn't fit no matter how good the symbolism is. And that's what I was saying about the ending: the symbolism was all fine, but it was still totally out of character for the game. So that gibberish is what she was referring to when she said I was "foaming at the mouth".
Ah.
So when she acted like I should be kept away from this next playthrough because I ruin it for everyone, that really got to me. Because you know me, she could have been right.
Yep, you really are annoying.
So I reread that whole thread from a year ago, and I made mistakes in how I said what I said but I really don't regret any of the content of what I said. And that's really what she was angry at me about, that I was disrespectful and thought too highly of my own opinions and stuff like that. I tried to talk to her in private, in a rational manner, but she'd already announced that she was going to stick me on her "Ignore" list so that she wouldn't have to hear me anymore.
That would never happen to me. Everyone who meets me loves me.
You say that because you haven't met anyone. People like us, we don't fit in well.
You're a guy. It's different.
No, it's not.


Moshe came back.
Where was he?
He was in South Africa for two months.
That's a long vacation.
Yeah, it really was. Yesterday morning he just suddenly knocked on the door. I hadn't even gotten dressed yet.
Yes, I can just picture you answering the door naked.
Ecch! What is wrong with you.
I'm too brilliant for you.
No comment. I was wearing the gray shorts which I wear to bed. You have a really dirty mind, you know that?
I try.
Ecch.


What was I saying before that rude interruption? Oh right, Moshe came over. So he told me that they'd moved into a much smaller apartment, and he really hated being there, and that he felt like his sister Aviella who doesn't even live with them was controlling his living space. He said he saw my house as a "refuge" from all that. That made me really happy.
That he hated being in his house? What a nice friend.
You know exactly what I mean.
Fine, fine.
So I played my new music for him, and we had lunch, and then I showed him my progress on the game and he was telling me
Oh, what did he think of it?
He hated it, actually.
I don't like Moshe.
No, I don't think anyone's given The March of Bulk the reaction I was looking for. I'm hoping that when the game is finished it'll be different, but I'm getting strong suspicions that it's just a bad idea.
Maybe. But like you said, it's not finished. You are going to finish it, right?
Yes, of course I'm going to finish it.
Because I really want to see if it makes sense in the end. It looks kind of interesting.
Yeah. What Moshe said was that it looked creepy and that he was in shock at what I was doing with that elephant. Not exactly what I was looking for, but good to know.
It could be he's right, and it'll be a total waste of time. Won't that be a bummer, spending a whole year working on a pile of steaming poo?
Steaming? Really?
A steaming pile of poo.
Moshe said that the stuff I'm slaving over in 2D would be really easy to do in 3D. Which doesn't help me here, but it's good to know that there's a better way to work for Through the Wind. Just something to keep in mind. He's apparently really good at working with 3D models.
I didn't know that.
Yeah, he once showed me some stuff he did. It was impressive. Lots of little details.
Did he have anything else to say about the game?
Um, let's see. He did look over a whole bunch of the code. Okay, well, some of the code. He understood the language really quickly, it's much simpler than what he plays around with. I think there was something else he said about the game, but I can't remember what it was.
Oh.
So then I got him to play Zelda.
Of course.
The Wind Waker, actually. You have to understand why this is such a pleasure for me. See, last week I finally got Dena to play Super Mario Galaxy. I didn't think I ever would. She actually wanted to play Mario Party, but when we started playing Mario Party I was beating her in every single minigame.
And you wonder why she doesn't want to play with you.
Seriously. We played like ten games, and she didn't win a single one, and it was just getting really awkward, so I thought that was a good excuse to switch to something more cooperative and I couldn't believe it when she didn't put up much resistance to my insistence that she play a "real" Mario game.
Yeah, Mario Party doesn't exactly count. I know what you mean.
And she was having fun, but then there was one part that was a teensy bit more frustrating, and that's when she shut it off and I don't think she's ever going to play it again.
Maybe she will.
She won't. But that's why it was such a thrill to have someone who was really willing to play. I mean, he pretends he doesn't like to play games, but he actually does. We were playing that for around three or four hours, until his mother called him and demanded that he come home. He said he'd come back soon.
Here's the problem I have with all this. When you have him you don't need to talk to me.
And yet I'm talking to you right now.
Only because he's not around today.
Look, imaginary friends are never going to be a top priority.
Well, at least you're honest.
Always.
Sometimes I really hate you.
Sometimes I really like you.
No you don't. I'm imaginary. This whole time I would have loved to jump in and start talking, but I have no opinions on anything.
Sorry. You are imaginary.
Don't let it be so long before bringing me back, okay?

Seriously! What, you think I like knowing that I'm only going to be written a limited number of times before you get bored of me?
I won't get bored of you. I really haven't met any girls in the real world like you.
And don't start!
Bye. I'll talk to you soon.
Yeah.

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Monday, September 07, 2009

Gender

I don't believe there's any difference between the male mind and the female mind. The obvious differences between the behavior of men and the behavior of women can all be explained by the discrepancy between how society treats men and how society treats women. If you look like a boy, everyone (parents included) expects you to be tough, and if you look like a girl, everyone expects you to be fragile. So boys grow up to be very different from women, yes, but that's not because of anything intrinsic to gender.



I think I first came to this realization when skimming through the bestselling book "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" a few years ago. I'd heard that it was a really perceptive and enlightening book, so I was curious to see what it said. What it said was ridiculous. It presented a clear dichotomy, where all men think one way and all women think one way. But then it acknowledged that sometimes men act like women, and sometimes women act like men. It's like my gamistic concept of "secondary content", where sometimes a platformer doesn't act like a platformer. But the reason that such platformers exist is that the division between Forms in gamism is arbitrary! The only reason a game is a platformer to begin with is that when the gamist starts, he says, "I'm going to make this game into a platformer."! So if he wants to make something less typical, all he's rebelling against is convention, not nature!

And in the same way, if you say that the qualities you attribute to women are also present in men and vice versa, that means that you're not talking about the natural way of things. You're talking about an arbitrary classification system, like my "Garden" posts. Fundamentally, the male mind is exactly the same as the female mind until society gets its hands and its arbitrary classifications on them.

And where do these social expectations come from? They come from an outdated, sexist mode of thought. The man goes out and works to support his wife and kids, so he needs to be tough. He needs to aggressive. He needs to be able to go through miserable work and put up with it, so that his family can survive. And the woman sits at home with the kids, so she needs to be compassionate and passive. An aggressive mother would be a ticking time bomb when stuck with a bunch of wild kids, so any aggression in a woman is unacceptable. And how are the genders supposed to relate to each other? After long hours of thankless, the man needs to be needed at home or he'll feel like he's not worth anything, so the woman should be unable to cope with her own problems. That way, the man can step in and be chivalrous, and feel good about himself.

You'd think we would've gotten past that thinking by now, now that women are working more and men are taking care of kids more. But no. Girls are encouraged to cry when they want something, because crying creates opportunities for chivalry. Boys are encouraged to bottle up their feelings, because it gets you farther in business. When a girl has a problem, you bail her out. But a boy has to solve his own problems. You want to know why there are so few women in power anywhere? So few women in difficult business positions? It's because parents are sexist. They go easy on the girls, because in the back of their minds they've still got the idea that women need to be fragile. So the daughters grow up not having any willpower. As soon as they reach an obstacle that seems too hard, they give up, start crying, and wait for someone to bail them out.

I was mentioning this perception I have of modern women to the Amitais, and Mrs. Amitai pointed out that my mother really doesn't fit that model at all. And she was right -I should have noticed that. My mother has more willpower than anyone. She holds the whole community on her shoulders. She bottles up her feelings and just keeps working. Every minute of the day that she's not making money, she's doing something to help people out. And even if no one helps her, even if it turns out to be much harder than she thought, she keeps working. I never really thought about it, but I guess my mother is a really unusual woman.


And when I think about it, it makes perfect sense. Every time she ever told us a story from her childhood, I got the sense that she grew up in a Roald Dahl book. Her parents made her do things just because she didn't like doing them. They pushed her to be the best in school, they pushed her to be a lawyer. I guess the one good thing I can say about my grandmother was that she made every effort to not let my mother end up like her. My mother was never expected to act her gender.

But make no mistake- most girls are. You probably think the feminist movement did away with the inequality, but the feminists have done more harm than good. They create groups and political parties that only serve women, thus helping to propagate the myth that women need more help than men. If they really believed in equality, they'd be saying "Women shouldn't be treated as well as we were treated, they should learn to deal with their problems for themselves.". But they don't believe in equality. They believe that women are inferior, but they want women to be treated as though they're superior. They want to cry for sympathy, but they also want to appear self-reliant. In short, they're hypocrites. And all they're selling is a more complicated brand of sexism.

You could reasonably ask me why I'm so radically indignant about gender equality. And my answer is very simple: I'm jealous. That's where this is all coming from. When I spend my day playing videogames and avoiding work and making myself feel better with music, I feel guilty. I'm not supposed to sit and be passive, I'm supposed to pursue my work with stubborn persistence. I'm supposed to bottle up what I feel about the work and get through it, because that's what men do. I know that if I were a girl, I'd be almost exactly the same person, but I wouldn't have that guilt. I'd never accomplish anything in my life, and I'd be totally okay with that. And I want to know why it is that girls are allowed to live like that, but not me. I want to know why it is that my sister Miriam gets to abandon everything that demands even the tiniest bit of effort, and I have to stick with things. If I'm supposed to live in the real world, why does half the world get to avoid it?

3 Comments:

Mory said:

Richie Sevrinsky, who I see at Game Nights, said he'd comment here. But then he didn't get a chance to, so he told me in person what he was going to write. There were three things he said which bothered me: First, that it's scientifically proven that women's brains don't function like men's brains. Second, that there were studies of boys raised as girls which found that they acted like boys. Third, that in his personal experience no women are as "childish" (in his words) as most men.

The physical difference in the brains I can deal with. Women have very different bodies to men, which function differently and have extra functions that need brain-supervision. That can account for the brain differences. The hormones are also different, but it may very well be that those hormones are necessary for giving birth and some of the changes in the brain negate the effects of those hormones because they'd otherwise get in the way of rational thought. The flipside of this hypothesis is that the hormones men have are necessary for reproduction as well, and some of what the male brain does is to negate the effects of those hormones. If this is true (It may or may not be.), then after all adjustments the thought process could be almost identical between men and women.

The study bothered me more, though Richie obviously didn't have the data on him. I've checked Google and have found what he's talking about. It was a common practice for decades that when a boy is born without a penis (This actually happens.) he should be raised as a girl. So the kid is being told he's a girl, he doesn't have male reproductive organs, and he's being treated like a girl wherever he goes, but he's not a girl. What the study found was that most of them were "acting like boys" regardless. The articles I saw were not detailed, so I can't be entirely sure what that means. But I saw the example of participating in sports. Some of these kids decided on their own (and early on in life) to refer to themselves as boys, and many decided to be boys when they were told what their situation was. I think there are two components to the story that can explain this phenomenon. First off, a boy with or without his sex organs is likely to be physically stronger than a girl. So he'd be capable of keeping up with the boys at sports. It's not like girls don't play sports, they just play sports which require less strength: hopscotch, jump rope. Similarly, a boy might be more likely to get into a fight because he feels more confident in his strength. So maybe these behaviors still are because of physical, rather than mental differences. The second component to the story which I'm going to latch onto is that these kids seem to have always known there was something wrong with them, but didn't know what. There was one article which mentioned one such boy who wasn't allowed in either the boys' bathroom or the girls' bathroom. That suggests that they understood a lot more than we expect them to have understood. Trying to switch genders may very well have been a reaction to this sense of being an outcast. You're not wanted where you are, so you switch to the other side. So I can still say that men and women are not psychologically different.

Finally, the childishness thing. Richie admitted himself that this may be because women are expected to be homemakers. You need to run the house, so you need to be an adult. So it could be a social effect. Women don't have fun because they think they're not supposed to have fun.

Mory said:

I'd like to use a metaphor to illustrate my point about the brain differences.

Let's say you're making a game for several consoles. Each one needs to be programmed very differently, since the hardware is very different. One will have more RAM, one will have a faster GPU, each one has certain strengths and shortcomings that need to be taken into account. So what is really simple to do on one may take ingenious workarounds to do on the other. Finally you finish the game. Anyone who looks at the two source codes will be amazed at how little they resemble each other. They're not even written in the same language. But the game is the game, and if you're playing it it barely makes any difference at all which system it's on. One will have a bit of slowdown, one will have some glitches, and that'll be the entire difference. The radical differences in coding are necessary to compensate for different hardware and create the exact same end result.

This is what I'm saying about men and women. The physical differences are so vast that the brains need to be wired very differently to compensate. But human thought is human thought; in the end we're all running the same program. Sometimes physical limitations pop up and effect the brain, but for the most part this is kept to a minimum.

Blogger Nati said:

We've already had most of this discussion, but just in case I neglected to mention any of this:

The main physical difference between men and women, besides the sexual organs, is that men are pumped full of tesosterone, and women with estrogens. Wikipedia seems to dispute this, but traditionally testosterone has been associated with aggression and lust. Perhaps I'm not researching rigourisly enough, but estrogens don't appear to be particularly linked to anything psychological.

So far so good. What I don't really understand about your point is how quickly you link aggression to toughness. I'll agree that men are still far more aggressive than women, but I don't think the same can be said of toughness, and I've rarely seen a grown woman cry because a task was too difficult for her. Even when that does happen, usually she'd get herself together and get on with what she was doing. I have not encountered this "fragile" woman of which you speak.

I think the equivalent male response in this kind of situation would usually be to punch someone or swear at the world or something similarly idiotic. When people feel helpless, they usually go for some emotional release. Or they don't, and then the feeling sticks around longer and they become bitter. The typical female response seems to me to be both healthier and more useful. I think it's more a question of men being less able to respond that way, because of that misconception of strength that you mentioned earlier.

I think what the feminists are talking about, when they ask for affirmative action or create advocacy groups that focus exclusively on women, is a perceived psychological, non-deliberate discrimination that arises from remaining preconceptions about women when compared to men.

My superficial take on this is that women seem to be expected to achieve less, as opposed to being less able to meet the basic standards. That is to say, they are not expected to be able to climb as high independently as men are. I think that, in a nutshell, is what the feminists are fighting against. And yes, I think it is very likely that this affects girls growing up, but it's not about doing what you need to - more about doing what you want to - and competing. The glass ceiling, in a word. Here's some wikipedia if you are unfamiliar with it (how do you do those in-post links?):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glass_ceiling

I rhink there's more to say about sexism and feminism, actually, but this I think is immediately relevant.

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Sunday, September 06, 2009

of acute leukemia

The Amitais' grandmother died, and I went to the funeral. It didn't really affect me at all, because I don't remember her at all. I may have met her at some point, or I may not have. She died of the same thing my own grandmother (my mother's mother) is diagnosed with, so most of the time I was there my mind went back to envisioning her eventual funeral. That's something I've been thinking about since the news of her diagnosis.

The problem I see is this: traditionally, one only says positive things of the dead. To do otherwise is the height of tactlessness, and I think that's the point where even I should be careful. I like my aunts and uncles, and I don't want to alienate them all. And while I don't have a particularly healthy relationship with my siblings right now, I don't think it would be any more pleasant if they outright despised me.

And it really wouldn't take much to make myself an outcast: all I'd need to do is open my mouth. I don't like my grandmother, and I have no positive memories of her. So really, the only reasonable thing to do at the funeral is to keep my mouth shut at all times.

I picture the scene with lots of rain, because I associate America with the existence of rain. All my family and extended family would be crying, while I'd be sitting out in the rain, trying to suppress the smile that I'd naturally have while sitting in the rain. And if anyone came over and said to me, "You're being awfully quiet, no?", I'd just nod.

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Wednesday, September 02, 2009

I hate our dog.

Dena barbecued some delicious meat for supper. I joked with Miriam afterward that pretty soon she'd start charging us. It was excellent. We usually only get meat on Shabbat, when it's reheated and not as tasty. But this was expensive meat which we were getting right off the grill.

You probably see where this story is going. I was watching a TV show (B'Tipul) when we heard a sound from downstairs and got concerned that Fudgie was up to something. So I went down and pushed all the chairs in, so that she wouldn't have a way to climb up. And then Dena covered the meat, to make extra sure.

Our father came home, and didn't understand why there wasn't any meat left. Dena didn't understand- there'd been a lot of meat left for him. She asked if I had come down and had some more. And then they saw Fudgie, eating away on her mat.

Yesterday I liked Fudgie. Not nearly as much as Pussywillow, but she was a good dog. She knew her place. Now I despise Fudgie. I've hit her a few times, but I still don't think she really understands. She's still licking her lips, thinking about how great that meat was. I'm sure she's figured out that we're angry at her, but I don't think that'd be enough to prevent her from doing it again. Now she knows exactly how delicious the meat is that we eat. I can't think of anything to do with her, that would get her to understand just how wrong what she did was.

So now I don't feel like I can go back to my TV episode, excellent though it might be. The only thing I can think about is how much I hate Fudgie and how much I wish there was something I could do to her. Dena was really proud of that meat. Damn that dog.

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Some perspective (to make myself feel better)

In the first year or two I was composing music, I only wrote one piece (of around five minutes) with an ending. The quality of it aside (It was bad.), that means I wasn't ever working on it very hard. I had lots of other little ideas, but none of them were longer than around ten seconds. Actual compositions with a beginning and an end, those I didn't write quickly.

Nowadays, I think it's fair to say that I compose around four pieces of comparable length (somewhere between two and ten minutes) each year. That's not amazing, but it's respectable. Working on music has just become a habit, it's not something that I need to put much effort into to get that output.

So when I'm yelling at myself for not working, maybe I should take a step back and realize that this is still just one year into making games. I'll get quicker.



..I wish Moshe were here. I wonder when he gets back from South Africa.

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Monday, August 31, 2009

Interesting.

Disney's buying Marvel.

My first thought was to wonder how this effects the theme parks in Orlando. Universal is Walt Disney World's biggest competition, and they have an entire section of their Islands of Adventure park modeled on the Marvel characters. Whatever deal they made with Marvel would almost certainly prevent Disney from competing with the same characters, so Disney's in a weird position where they can't use (what will be) their own characters in theme parks until that deal expires. Or so I imagine; I'm sure what those lawyers are doing is actually really complicated.

There are similar issues all over the place: Disney's licensed their brands to BOOM Studios, who are doing a good job with those comics. Sony has the rights to Spider-Man movies. Fox has the rights to X-Men movies. I'm really curious to see how they'll wiggle their way out of these prior commitments.

But even without all that, this is a shrewd move. The Avengers movies will appeal to the same kind of audience as Pirates of the Caribbean, the kind of audience that gets them huge amounts of cash. And it would help, in making those movies, to call on all the expertise Disney has. The marketing money alone that Disney will get from this will pay off the outrageous price (4 billion dollars) they're paying. They've got more licenses for Disney Interactive to work with. They've got total control over the Marvel cartoons which they're already using on TV. Plus, they can make big-screen animated movies based on characters like Captain America and Hulk... they're going to be getting money off this for centuries. And with the way Marvel Studios seems like they're just about to take over the world with their crazy plans, this is the perfect time to buy.

A lot of the comics community is concerned about Disney meddling in the actual Marvel comics, but I think they're safe for now. Marvel's the market leader. Under the current management the business has done well (by comics standards), so Disney would have to be really stupid to try to mess it up. When DC starts overtaking Marvel, that's when the bosses will step in. But as long as Marvel's on top, it's good business to leave them alone. Disney's comparing this arrangement to Pixar (in that they haven't messed with them), and I'm inclined to trust them. What I do expect to see is greater coordination between the comics and the TV cartoons, as in, there will be some cartoons set in the current Marvel continuity. If TV-watching kids see a crossover with crazy events that they can only read about in the comics, that gets a lot of them to jump onboard. That's an obvious enough idea that I'm sure Disney's come up with it already. It'll make editing Marvel much more complicated, but I don't see that it's at all harmful. Crossovers with Disney characters are going to happen (Anything for a buck, right?), I'm sure of that, but it's not going to happen often. It's a gimmick, not a long-term plan.

I think the most important thing about this news is that it guarantees more readers of Marvel Comics. Disney can market anything. Superhero comics have been a niche for a very long time, but they're now in the public eye (thanks to the movies) and I don't know who could possibly take advantage of that better than Disney. So I'm pretty hopeful about this whole thing.

Also, I'm very curious to see how Marvel deals with Uncle Scrooge.

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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

How To Fix X-Men

Previously:
"Ultimate Marvel Comics", 18/11/2008
What it should have done from the start was rethink the whole concept of the X-Men, because I think the problem stems from the originals. In the sixties, they were just another bunch of superheroes. Since then, the cast has gotten larger by the hundreds, and writers have used them as a metaphor for all sorts of oppressed minorities, but still I don't think the X-Men have found focus. They started out as superheroes like any others, so no matter how much you add on top that's what they'll still be. Their stories will still be about fighting this guy or that guy, about cleverly using this power against that power. I think there's a real problem with all the regular X-Men books, where even excellent writers write stories which only long-time fans could care about.

"continue extrapolate repurpose", 24/5/2009
It recently occurred to me that all my ideas are following the same formula. First I establish my take in accepted continuity, using as many past elements as I can. Then I try to imagine how that would naturally play out, connecting all the pieces together and going farther with them than their creators intended. And then I flip the whole thing around, so that it's actually not the same kind of story at all as the ones it's following.

Please note: This is a superhero-related post. If you are not interested in superheroes, don't read it.

The X-Men comics might make sense if they were in their own little world. But they're set in the Marvel Universe, where the Fantastic Four and the Avengers are seen as heroes (even though they're no different from the mutants), and it just doesn't work.

Sure, there have been plenty of good X-Men stories over the years. There are good X-Men stories running right now! But these stories are standard superhero stories that would work equally well if you didn't distinguish mutants from all the other superheroes. I mean, what I'm reading in X-Men these days is two time-travel stories, a crossover with The Avengers where they all punch each other for PR reasons, a gory action story where they fight a bunch of literally-resurrected villains from their past, and a story about the son of Wolverine where he tries to humiliate his teammates. These are stories that could be told with or without the existence of mutants.

If I were to decide to call a superhero character a mutant, that would mean two things and only two things.
  1. I don't have to come up with an origin story beyond "He's a mutant!".
  2. I don't need to give people an excuse for hating him beyond "He's a mutant!".
So the whole mutant concept, as it exists, is really weak. You can see from the recap that I've been thinking about this for a while.

What differentiates the X-Men comics from the other Marvel comics is not so much the racism, I think, as it is the huge cast. There are literally hundreds of random and interchangeable X-Men characters, each one with a convoluted soap-opera connection to all the rest. So X-Men fans expect X-Men comics to be overloaded with characters. Marvel's editor-in-chief, Joe Quesada, felt that the X-Men cast had gotten much too big, so a few years ago he had a comic written where almost all the mutants lost their powers. (In the story, this event was called "M-Day".) But that didn't really change anything. Even the depowered mutants are being kept around, and all the popular ones have already reacquired their powers through other means like magic crystals or advanced technology. (If being a mutant is no different than being any other kind of superhero, then why should it matter at all that they're not mutants anymore?)

The problem isn't really that there are too many characters. The problem is that there's nothing interesting to do with them that you couldn't do in The Avengers or Spider-Man or even The Punisher. So when I wrote that Ultimate Marvel post, I thought the only way X-Men comics could work would be if you rebooted the whole thing.

Well, I've changed my mind. I think I see exactly where X-Men comics ought to go, where all the potential I'm looking for is there but none of what's there (and enjoyed by X-Men fans) is undone. Believe it or not, it's actually really simple to get there from here.

Let me describe where "here" is exactly, because all the pieces are already in place. On M-Day, a mentally-ill mutant called the Scarlet Witch (whose powers are inexplicable magic) said "No more mutants.", and changed the world. After M-Day, most former mutants don't have powers anymore, and more importantly no new mutants can ever be born. Or so everyone thought, at least. The scientist called Beast went all over the world looking for a way to undo what the Scarlet Witch had done, and every road he went down was a dead end. But then, for no apparent reason, a new mutant girl was born in Alaska. She was kidnapped from the hospital, the entire area was burned down, and a battle broke out to get the baby back. The X-Men wanted to protect her, the Christian radicals wanted to kill her (They called her the anti-Christ.), and the evil mutants.. come to think of it, I don't even remember what they wanted. Anyway. In the end a time-traveling soldier called Cable took her and jumped into the future so that no one could find them. (He sees her as some sort of savior for mutants.) Another time-traveling soldier named Bishop jumped into the future after them, and he's been chasing them ever since. He believes that her existence directly leads to the terrible future he comes from where mutants are put in concentration camps, though he's doesn't seem to really understand how she can do all that. Cable named the girl Hope, she's grown up ten years, and they're still running for their lives. Her powers haven't manifested yet. Meanwhile, in the present (I always wanted to say that.), the mutants have all moved to San Francisco where they're sort of fitting in for once. ("Sort of" because they're already getting kicked out.) Beast assembled a team of scientists called the X Club (named after this) to see if they could solve the mutant-gene problem, and so far they've had no luck.

I didn't make any of this up, it's all from the last few years of comics.*
(Specifically: House of M, the Endangered Species back-ups, the Messiah Complex crossover, Cable, and Uncanny X-Men)
But it's a great set-up for what needs to happen.

The X Club should identify exactly what it is that made the Scarlet Witch's magic work, but to undo it they need massive amounts of some exotic kind of energy that they have no access to. They're ready to give up entirely, when -lo and behold!- Cable and Hope come back from the future. Hope's power turns out to be exactly what they needed. Apparently the Scarlet Witch made a deliberate exception to her "no mutants" rule for the one mutant who could undo what she'd done. I know that sounds weird, but she's done exactly that once before (with a girl named Layla Miller), so it's not a stretch to say she'd do it again. Psychologically speaking, the explanation for what the Scarlet Witch is doing is that she isn't really in control of her own powers, and on some level she doubts herself. That doubt in her subconscious causes her to create what will stop her. But enough psychoanalysis. Bottom line: everyone was right. The X Club was right that magic can be undone through science, Cable was right that Hope's very important for all mutants, Bishop was right that killing her would prevent his future.

The mutant gene is reactivated, but it's not the same as it was before. (This is where all the fun starts.)

The new mutants can't control their powers. There are different degrees of instability: Some new mutants can usually keep their powers controlled just with medication and mental exercises, and only lose control while sleeping. And on the other end of the mutant spectrum, there are those who are using their powers every moment of every day and can't do anything about it. Most of them are not particularly dangerous to the public, either because their powers' effects are temporary or benign, or because their powers don't effect anyone but themselves. But some of them actually are dangerous, like the little telepath who rewires the brains of everyone he ever meets. The onset of mutant powers is a lot more unpredictable than it used to be: rather than being tied to puberty, it can happen at any point from one year old to sixty years old, and with no apparent cause.

A new trend begins all over the world, where socially-conscious people (usually former mutants depowered on M-Day, but also normal people) start support groups for mutant kids. And to make them feel better about their situation, they're not called "mutant support groups". No, they're called "X-Men"! The old generation of mutants is taken as a role model, because even though it's not really the same mutant gene they can still be seen as mutants who got to be just like all the other superheroes. (In this way, the flaw with the old premise becomes a strength in the new one!) "Look at Cyclops, little Timmy! He's a mutant just like you, and he goes on adventures with all the other superheroes! Some day, you can be an X-Man just like him!" The word "mutant" starts to be seen as derogatory: if you want to be politically correct, you've got to call them "X-Men".

Imagine this scene: A little mutant girl is walking through the mall with her mother. Everything and everyone she gets close to changes color (She can control the color it changes to, but right now it's all subconscious.), and when she walks away it all goes back to normal. Everyone is staring at her in disbelief, until one guy gets up and starts yelling: "Get the hell out of here! We're trying to have a good time here!" And the mother yells back: "You can't talk to my daughter like that! She's an X-Woman!"

So what happens to all the existing X-Men characters? Well, they become really interesting. The majority of the public is lumping them in with all these new mutants, so even though they've been acting like superheroes for decades suddenly they're seen as ticking time bombs. People now have reason to be scared of mutants, and they're not thinking about the subtleties of whether you got your powers before or after M-Day. That's racism that works, dramatically.

So you'd have the original people calling themselves "X-Men", who have to be role models for mutants who aren't really like them, as their every move is under scrutiny by the new mutant-haters who would like to vilify them.

And then you'd have the "Brotherhood of Mutants", taking pride in the "mutant" name, who try to distance themselves from the new strain of mutant by attacking the dangerous ones. ("Maybe if we're seen fighting them and protecting people from them, people will understand we're not like them.")

And you'd have superhero teams which no one knows are mutants, who live in constant fear of their secret coming out. In rare cases, the old X-gene can slowly turn into the new X-gene -if that started happening to a member of one of these teams, then it would start getting really complicated.

All the solo characters (like Wolverine) would go on doing the same thing they've always been doing; the new species doesn't really affect them. But now they'd have people who were previously nice to them suddenly distrustful and scared, and no matter how hard the old mutants try to gain these people's trust back, there will always be some doubt and hostility there from now on.

That's the entire X-Men line reinvigorated right there, and that's just with the characters who aren't the new kind of mutant! On top of that, there are all the new stories that could be told with new characters, where the premise is a lot more interesting than it used to be. It's much more interesting to see someone who could lose control at any moment, than to see someone who is in perfect control but is feared anyway.

This most likely isn't going to happen. I'm guessing the stories of Hope and the X Club will go in less interesting, more convoluted directions. (Like Hope turning out to be the reincarnation of Jean Gray or some nonsense like that.) And I expect that the effects of M-Day will be totally reversed as soon as Joe Quesada is replaced as editor-in-chief, and we'll be back to the status quo from way back when. That's how these things usually go.

1 Comment:

Mory said:

It occurs to me that Xavier and Magneto, the main good guy and bad guy of the X-Men, are both non-mutants now. Xavier got telepathy from the M'Kraan crystals on an alien planet, and Magneto got his powers from a supervillain called the High Evolutionary. It just goes to show how little the mutant gene has to do with what X-Men's become. Also, Cloak and Dagger are now calling themselves X-Men even though they were never mutants. And I'm not too clear on the whole story, but Wolverine, the most popular mutant character, has so much backstory involving secret army projects and wolf packs (yes, wolf packs) that if he weren't a mutant it wouldn't make much difference.

You might wonder why I chose to disconnect the onset of powers from puberty, losing the symbolism there. There are two very good reasons: Because of the way the new mutant gene is being introduced mid-story, it wouldn't make sense to have many adult or even teenaged mutants popping up for a few years, so there need to be viable young-mutant stories. Secondly, a lot of mutant hatred would be driven by the knowledge that the hater could wake up one day and find out that he himself is a mutant.

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Wednesday, August 19, 2009

I couldn't figure out the math before. I somehow figured out a specific set of numbers that looked pretty decent, but Kyler said it should be better and he's not wrong. So I've been procrastinating, because it's really scary to come up to something I don't really understand (those numbers) and be told to rewrite it. I don't even know where to start. I stare at the numbers, try a few things, see how spectacularly they fail, stare some more, then decide to do something more fun with my time.

Today I had a minor breakthrough. I decided that rather than trying to change the numbers, what I needed was to create a system for easily changing the numbers, where the program would figure out how they all fit together. That meant lots of math, so I spent an hour or two working out the problems and then programmed my results. It didn't quite work. Somewhere in my long calculations, I must have put a minus instead of a plus, and some of it is running backwards. I don't understand how to fix that short of redoing all the math, but I think I see a way to make that part a bit simpler so that I'm less likely to make mistakes like that. That's what I'll do tomorrow. And then I'll solve the problem and move on.

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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

No work done.

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Monday, August 17, 2009

No work done.

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Friday, August 14, 2009

People Who Need People

That was a lonely month. Avri was gone, Moshe was gone. That left Nati and Eliav. Nati I spent all of my Shabbats with, because Eliav doesn't talk about anything anymore except for the MMO he plays (Fiesta). And sure, he's got what to say about that, but I've heard it already. It doesn't change that much from week to week.

So during the week I've had no human contact except for Games Nights. I guess I really needed those Games Nights. (Here's the last session report.)

Eliav said that if I downloaded Bioshock, we could play it together on his (powerful) computer like we played Phoenix Wright and The Path. So I downloaded it, and for the past two weeks I've been trying to get him to play it with me. But when I go over, he's in Fiesta.

Eliav is a kind of person which I didn't expect to exist for another few hundred years: a person who lives in a virtual world. He spends his entire day in Fiesta. He's got lots of friends there which he hangs out with. He's a productive member of the virtual society. Whenever he gets to a point in the game he's happy with, he starts over from scratch with a new character and does it all again.

I went over a few days ago. He was playing Fiesta, and from where I was sitting it seemed like the most boring game in the world. He kept fighting the same monster, over and over and over again. He had a portable DVD player next to him, which he was using to rewatch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the DVDs I'd lent him while he played. (He was up to season seven already.) I asked if we could play Bioshock, and he politely pointed out that he was busy. So I asked if I could come back in a half hour and we'd play then, and he said that wasn't possible.

See, in fifteen minutes a quest would start that he could only play once every four hours. So he needed to play through it in fifteen minutes, and then he needed to come back to this other quest which he was doing, because he'd be leaving it in the middle to get there. And then there would be another quest after that, and another after that, and in four hours he'd want to do that second quest again...

Yesterday Eliav came over to return the Buffy discs. (He'd finished the series.) I asked him if we could play Bioshock, he said no, and I got angry. Dena informs me that I was yelling at him. I said that we'd agreed we'd play Bioshock together, so it wasn't unreasonable for me to be irritated when he was always doing something else. He said I was being selfish, and if I wanted to play Bioshock I should get a better computer. I went upstairs for a moment to put away the DVDs, and he ran off. I ran after him, and he explained that he thought we were done arguing and he had to get back to Fiesta.

I think he thinks this was about me wanting to play Bioshock. Like I don't have any other games to play. I'll have to talk to him. Not that that'll make any difference.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

That definitely sounds like someone who is addicted to a video game. I periodically (probably once a month) play games for extended periods(+6 hours). But the moment that something more important crops up I can get out of it immediately.

I think that MMOs are designed in such a way as to promote addictive tendencies in people. That way people will keep paying the monthly fees, or keep coming back and seeing the advertising.

I dislike any game that's focus is to get you addicted to it. I haven't played many so I haven't much experience with them, but I still just want to stay away.

As for the good news, Bioshock is a fantastic game if you ever get a chance to play it. I'm not sure how many shooters you have played, so it might be something pretty different for you.

If I have any advice to make it more fun, really go out of your way to be creative with the plasmid powers. I generally tend to find only a few strategies to play games and then use those a lot. But near the end of the game, it force me to be continually creative and I had way more fun.

I am interested in hearing you impressions of it because we generally don't get to play the same games.

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Tuesday, August 11, 2009

VI: It's Only Pretend

I rewatched all five seasons of Lost, to see if I could piece together the puzzle. Well, I did. I don't know where all the pieces go, but I see the picture on the box and it's not what I expected. What I did to figure it out was I watched the show with the assumption that every random thing that people were doing actually made sense. And then I fit the pieces together in ways that made sense. I'm good at that. I'll be very surprised if my theory isn't correct, but I've been very surprised on many occasions before. (Note: I've written down my entire spoiler-filled theory on this page; comment there, and not here, if you want to talk about Lost.)

Avri's been in Canada for the past three weeks, and I've been running the Games Night in his absence. He let me have the key to his house, so on Tuesday at 7:45 PM I've been making popcorn, grabbing a drink and some cups, and trying my best to not let the fact that Avri isn't there ruin our fun. We've had a smaller turn-out than usual, unsurprisingly, but two of the three Games Nights I've run were really fun. Okay, well, one was really fun, one was decent and one was a bust. But still, not bad. I can't explain games like Avri can, but most of the people coming know the games so they can explain it. So really what I'm doing is just welcoming people in, keeping the score, and then writing it all up. I think I've been doing a decent job. (If anyone who comes to Games Night knows otherwise, please comment. Even if it doesn't make a difference, I'd like to know.) Here are the three session reports:

When the Vintage Game Club announced that the next game they'd do a playthrough of was a Zelda, I was really excited. I'd never finished studying Ocarina of Time, and the bits I had studied I'd never really had the chance to tell other people about. And there's so much greatness there to tell other people about. It's like a hundred opportunities, just waiting for their time. Well, the game they picked was Majora's Mask, Ocarina of Time's sequel. I didn't know what I'd find, since most of the game hadn't left much of an impression the first time I played it (with an emulator), but I did remember enough to know it wasn't in the same league as OoT or Twilight Princess. So this playthrough has been somewhat surprising, in that I'm finding that I really love some parts, and the rest is at least an interesting failure which inspires better ideas. I think it's been worth the ten bucks I paid for it. And going through a Zelda game has made me think about all my Zelda ideas again. I've been playing my variations on the music a lot on the piano, and I've changed my mind about what the third act of Broken Duet should be. This new ending would be so cool.

I've also been thinking about Present Self-Defense, and Through the Wind, and Dreams of a Fractured World. I think I've got some great ideas. But I sort of understand (maybe) that great ideas aren't going to be enough. I don't know what will be enough. I've been agonizing over The March of Bulk, not in the sense of working non-stop but in the sense that working on it is agony and I'm doing it anyway. Kyler made some excellent suggestions, which means I'm not stuck anymore like I was for the past few weeks, but each time I try to implement his suggestions it goes horribly wrong. So I've been trying one thing after another, then undoing all my changes when each one doesn't work and looks like it can't possibly work. And then I try something else. One of these days I'll find an approach that works. I hope.

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Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Why am I here?

Underlying that question is the faulty assumption that I am somehow more important (in the larger scheme of things) than most people. This is of course untrue. I'm just a person, and like any person I've been put here by God to be part of the whole of society. I enjoy organizing and micromanaging and copying data and tasks with clear rules where I can challenge myself to be as efficient as possible. I pride myself on all these things. There is plenty of room in society for a person like that. I could be a librarian, or a secretary, or a store-owner for comic books. I could easily be happy and productive; all else is arrogance and folly. I need to be a dependable person, get myself a nice wife and settle down and live happily ever after. That's the Real World. The dreams and plans, those are childish nonsense.

Why am I here? Well, that's obvious, isn't it? As an "Asperger's" person, I've been granted a gift by God. That gift is music, and to ignore it is to ignore every single signpost that God's thrown my way. My entire life has been a linear course to greater opportunities in music. I have potential. It wouldn't be easy to become a professional musician, but it would be natural. Many people have told me that they'd buy a CD if I made one- this in itself should be proof enough that that's what I'm meant to do. When else has anyone ever said to me that they'd pay for something I was good at? New musical themes are constantly coming to me, and I do nothing with them. Every opportunity that has been handed to me I have discarded. I need to stop ignoring my skill, and start using it.

I'm here to make games. I'm not particularly good at it yet, but I will be. I must be. Because if I don't make the games which I know need to be made, no one else will do it. The platformer and the adventure are in horrible shape. The RPG and the metalude are stagnating. They are not evolving in the right direction, and no one is going to set them on the right course if I don't do it. So yes, I don't have skill. But I will make up for it with stubbornness and the strength of my convictions. Nothing in the world seems as important to me as gamism, and that's because it's what I'm meant to be doing. Forget happiness, forget self-fulfillment, forget all the hints from God that other paths will be easier. Pursuing gamism is the path that makes sense. Anyone can be a secretary or a musician; no one can replace the future me as a gamist!

There need to be more people working on artificial intelligence. I have no experience and even less understanding, but I can learn. I am a human being, I can decide on how my life's going to proceed. If I decide to learn neurobiology and psychology, I can do it. Tamir tells me there actually are projects to model AI on the way brains work, albeit projects which aren't taking emotions into account. But it's a start, and I ought to support it. Creating a new kind of intelligence is a worthy cause, and it would be an honor to devote my life to it. What makes me reasonably well-suited to that kind of work is my willingness to be proven wrong and consider many possibilities, and more importantly my eagerness to make a rational system out of many parts which don't seem to fit together. If I learn enough of the details of intelligence, I might be able to figure out some rules which other scientists haven't thought of yet.

When I wrote my first interactive dialogue, I had an epiphany that that was what I could offer to the world. It was difficult, to be sure, but so satisfying. It was easier for me to make Smilie than it was to make The Perfect Color or now The March of Bulk, and that's because it comes more naturally to me to do interactive characters than other kinds of games. So I ought to devote my life specifically to making adventure games, and forget trying to make other kinds of games. I have one huge idea for an adventure game which I think could be really great, and many smaller ideas. My idea for a dynamic interface is one that's never exactly been in a game before, and it has more than enough potential to spend an entire life learning to use. If I made several adventure games with the same system, all totally different in tone and content, it raises the chances significantly of other people continuing my work. Whereas if I were to jump around from Form to Form, never staying in one place, each of my works could be seen as oddities and have no impact. So while I agree that I'd like to make games, I think I really ought to only make adventure games.

I ought to move to New York and try to become a comics editor. Wow, that would be fun. I'm already editing comics just for fun, how cool would it be to do it for a living? Getting to be a part of this entertainment which I love so much, getting to know the brilliant writers responsible, trying to get those writers into positions better suited for them. I spend so much time worrying that comics editors aren't doing what they ought to be doing; well, I could do it! There's lots of micromanagement, creativity in which ideas to keep and which not to, there's regular tasks I could be efficient at. It seems like a dream job, and I absolutely could pull it off.

I'm never going to do anything. I'm going to try a lot of things, never finish anything, never get anywhere, never help anything or anyone, and never find happiness. And then I'll die. And someone will see how I died at such an early age, read this blog, and understand that I was a person confused about my direction, running into roads which I have neither the talent nor the work ethic to get through. My life's purpose will then be clear: I am a cautionary tale. This observer, who I barely know, will take my death as a reminder that life is fleeting, and he/she will hurry up and do things. That's why I'm here.

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Mory, I gotta hand it to you. You always manage to find new ways to shock me with just how goddamned stupid you are. What would I do without you.


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Sunday, July 26, 2009

When I Grow Up, I Want To Do Everything

Previously:
♫ Some Day Myself Will Come… ♫
Back in the days when I was younger and wilder, I had many dreams to fill my thoughts with. I dreamt of programming a perfect replica of human intelligence. I dreamt of single-handedly creating hit science fiction movies. I dreamt of crafting educational software to put the school system to shame. I dreamt of writing "quests" the likes of which the world had never seen. I dreamt of gaining the respect and admiration of those who looked down at me.

Most people never figure out life.

At the age of eleven, I had already solved it.

All the wasted time at school gave me the opportunity to think about my plan, a comprehensive set of logical steps that would get me exactly where I wanted to be.


Step 1: 3D
I had figured out the basics of programming by messing around with the Visual Basic 2.0 demo. In recesses, I'd borrow Chayim's scientific calculator and program my trademark cheating guessing game-------
if guess=num (num=getRnd(min,max))
if guess=num & min=num & max=num (write "You win!")
on it, or use it to plot out random graphs to see if I could make them look cool. I was on the right track. Okay, so I'd never finished any program more impressive than the guessing games, but anything was doable. So I thought a lot about how 3D graphics were supposed to work. I didn't like the idea of polygons, so I wanted to program a 3D equivalent of pixels, where every object you see is made of tiny cubes in a 3-dimensional grid. It didn't seem like such a hard thing to implement; I just needed to figure out how perspective worked, and the job was half done!

Step 2: Arellian
I had almost finished my logical alphabet, where the connections between letters are perfectly intuitive and logical. I needed to start working on the vocabulary. It would use a modified version of Hebrew's "root" logic, because it just makes everything more sensible. In addition, you could get the opposite of any word by spelling it backwards. And the longer a word, the more specialized its meaning. There would be short words talking about general concepts, so that you could have a basic conversation without having an advanced vocabulary. But adding on more letters to the start and end would add on subtleties and contexts and connotations and iterations. Starting from these rules, I'd eventually deduce the single most logical language in the world. I believed I'd find that in the end, there would only be one solution to this problem.

Step 3: AI
The most important part of intelligence is learning. If I could just make a program that would learn from me, it could figure out all the rest for itself. I gave a lot of thought to how the files would be organized, where each file is a learned behavior and the files are in folders and are all connected to each other but the computer program changes all that on its own. If it saw me acting differently than the appropriate file suggested that a person should act, then it would create another file to go alongside it suggesting an alternate behavior for that context. Then it would have to figure out the more subtle difference behind the two situations, which is just a math problem. When it decided on its own behavior, it would never have exactly the same situations so it'd pick whichever file was closest, and then adjust the programming of that file based on what reaction it got. All pretty straightforward. I'd already picked out a name for my first AI: "Artie". We'd have all sorts of fun together. The Arellian language would now come into use, because any robot would be driven mad by the current languages. Trying to speak to my Artie in English would add years on to the time it'd take to train him!

Step 4: Movies
Once Artie was reasonably independent, I'd teach him English and show him lots of movies so he could imitate famous actors' performances in 3D. If I gave him enough movies to watch, he'd eventually figure out how to play from any script, and with any style of performance! (He'd probably need to organize all the different styles of performance himself, though I could help him out a bit.) Then I'd write a script, a high-stakes time-travel story of some sort. (I was always thinking about the first scene, since the rest would follow once I got that right.) Artie would play all the parts, and it would all use my 3D graphics to look totally realistic, and -Voila!- professional movies by the age of 18.

Step 5: Quests
Once I was able to do movies, I could just make it exponentially more detailed (This is just math, really.) and I'd have some amazing adventure games. I'd just need to design the branching paths so that everything you can do leads to a good movie. All the characters would actually be AI-actors (probably Artie's successors by that point), because you need to be able to talk to them (via a microphone) and it's not conceivable that I could program all that manually. Those would also be futuristic science-fiction stories. I'd brand them as "VCQs", which is short for "voice-controlled quests".

Step 6: Education
Once I knew how to make games, I could figure out how to teach. The trouble with teachers was, they didn't understand anything. They knew what the material was that needed to be taught, but they didn't understand the logic behind the material, and they certainly didn't understand how that could be fun. But I could figure out how to make stuff fun. I'd release some educational software under the heading of "Orot Software", named after my elementary school not because I liked my school the tiniest bit, but because there was more to my plan than that. See, my software (being based on an intelligent evaluation of the player and good game design) would be so much more effective than the school system that within five years, I would utterly replace all schools, and all teachers would be out of a job. So the point of the name was actually going to be to rub it in their faces that I could do their jobs better than them.

Step 7: Whatever
By that point, I'd pretty much have reached the point where I could do anything I liked. Maybe I'd make a comic strip, or maybe an RTS game. Or maybe I'd get to work on that time machine, because I still had no idea how that was going to work.







This didn't happen, of course. I utterly failed to live up to my own standards. My 18th birthday came and went, and three more after that. I've still never gotten serious about figuring out 3D graphics, I never made a language to go with my alphabet, I've never come to understand intelligence, I no longer feel any need to make movies, I don't think I'll be able to ever teach anyone, and the closest I've come to an adventure game is Smilie. I rarely leave this room, and most of the time I've got this nagging feeling in the back of my head that life is supposed to be more than this. Life's supposed to make sense. And it doesn't.

It occurs to me that maybe the sentiment behind the old plan is still there. After all, I still want to do everything. I made a character and a strategy game, and now I'm trying to make a movement game and then an exploration game and then an adventure game and someday a platformer and a role-playing game and a metalude. These are all separate worlds, and we act like they're all one medium. So I can say "I want to be a gamist!", and because it's so simple to understand that it seems like it'll be simple to do. I guess that makes me happy. I can be realistic, and still know that I'm eventually gonna get to step 7. It might just take a bit longer than I anticipated.

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Most of the things that make me happy are really simple.


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Friday, July 24, 2009

Yo Ho, Yo Ho…

I feel no guilt in saying that I get and always have gotten most of my entertainment illegally. I'm afraid that people will despise me, but I'm not afraid that I'm doing the wrong thing. This is just the way the world works now, there's nothing unethical about it.

When I was a kid, almost the only entertainment I had was TV shows. And almost the only TV shows I ever watched (since we never picked up more than two channels) were the Star Trek episodes my father had taped off American TV.

Then I discovered the internet, and I finally was exposed to games. Good games, not the shareware and educational trash which I'd been exposed to before. I found a Game Boy emulator and played through Pokémon Yellow, and then I'd go to school and hand out floppy disks with the same to anyone who'd take 'em. One kid then went out and bought himself a Game Boy so he could play it "for real", having never been exposed to videogames before and therefore not knowing what a rip-off the Israeli prices were.

I played other Nintendo games: Super Mario 64, Ocarina of Time. Ah, Ocarina of Time. The game that showed me what games could be. And understand, before piracy I had nothing. I'd never touched a game system. But after playing Ocarina of Time, well, I wanted the next one. I read that a new Zelda game was coming to the Gamecube, and I went out and bought myself a Gamecube.

Every penny of the (literally) thousands of dollars I've spent on games is because of piracy. So don't you look at me like I'm corrupting your economy. The creators who think that every single copy of their work should earn them the amount of money that they've decided on, well, they're just being greedy. If I created stuff, I'd want as many people to experience it as possible. That's the point of creating anything. Getting every last penny you feel you're "owed" is not the point.

And still Nintendo tries to attack me as though I'm some sort of disease. I have the Homebrew Channel on the Wii, so that I can (illegally) play the old games which Nintendo refuses to sell me. Uniracers, in particular. I really wanted to play that on a real game system with a real controller. So I installed the Homebrew Channel, I enjoy the game every now and then, and every time I install a new system update I have to be worried that this is the time they'll catch up to the hackers and prevent me from being able to ever play Uniracers again. They keep trying, and the hackers keep coming up with ways of getting around whatever they set up.

Thank god for hackers.

Now, you might well ask why I bother to pay these corporate slimebags who try to attack me. It's a good question. I could give a whole bunch of rational-sounding answers, but they all feel a bit false to me, even as far as rationalizations usually go. I think there's an element of capitalist indoctrination there, that I feel that if I'm enjoying something enough to pay for it I should make an effort to pay for it. So if I see a decent sale, or some other opportunity to pay for stuff which I've already been enjoying for free, I usually take it. I've played games for literally hundreds of hours on emulators before buying legal copies. Generally used, since the new ones are more expensive than I can afford. Which I guess doesn't make a whole lot of sense- what's the difference between buying a used game and downloading an emulated game, exactly? But that's why I'm categorizing all this under "indoctrination" and not attributing rationality to it.


I'm going to switch topics a little bit and talk about comic books. Comic books are the exception to the general rule that piracy leads to actual purchases. And that's because the illegally-obtained comics are better than the legal ones.

As usual, a brief personal history: as a kid I only knew newspaper comic strips. Calvin & Hobbes, Garfield, Peanuts. That's about all I knew. Oh, and once I was at a friend's house whose father collected comics, and I read his limited-edition "Uncle Scrooge McDuck: His Life and Times" hardcover, which I later found out no one was allowed to touch. Uncle Scrooge is amazingly good. (I read it on the computer now.) But the Marvel and DC comics, the superhero stuff, I had no exposure to that. The first time I read a superhero comic, I had already seen the first X-Men movie (which I liked a lot) and the first Spider-Man movie (which I didn't), but superheroes were never "for me", they were what I had heard that other people liked. A classmate in ninth grade let me read a Batman comic, and I'm sure it wasn't a particularly good comic but it somewhat impressed me. Not enough to search out more, mind you. But I could see myself getting involved in a superhero comic.

And then at some point I found out that J. Michael Straczynski, the guy who made all those Babylon 5 episodes I'd downloaded off the internet, was writing Amazing Spider-Man. So I downloaded the entire run up to that point. That's what got me hooked on superhero comics. And every week after that, I'd go into these archaic chat-rooms (Even then they were archaic, but they were the only semi-reliable source I could find.) and download the new comics directly from someone nice enough to share them with me.

Now, it's not like I've never payed for any comics. I have two volumes of Fables (my favorite one and the first), the hardcover of Omega the Unknown, and the entire $90 set of Bone in color. (Bone is my favorite comic ever.) But I also have copies of all three on the computer. And that's because the computer comics experience is so much better.


The enjoyment I get from comics is threefold:
  1. The intended entertainment of reading the comic.
  2. Collecting and organizing the comics.
  3. Sharing the comics and socializing about them.
To be sure, people who read comics on paper can get all three as well. But I would argue that they can't get as much out of the comics as I do.

1. Reading
Comic books are small, and the art is shrunk down to fit on the page. With good art, I want it to be bigger. I was so disappointed when I got that first Bone book and saw how much less of the nuance of the art I could make out than I'd seen on the computer screen. Now, I'll grant you that the quality of the reading is dependent on the quality of the screen. But even with my awful screen, I feel like I'm appreciating the art much better when I can make it whatever size I like.

(There are certain comics which absolutely can't be scrolled through at a large size without losing a lot. Most of David Mack's comics, for instance. But these are rare.)

Comic books are also filled with ads, which of course the illegal scanners take out. So the flow of the story is uninterrupted.

2. Collecting
I've discovered that I really enjoy organizing things. Every time there's a comic I like, I take off the scanner's tag, change the filename to whatever the title is, and put it in a folder which fits into a chronological order of the timeline. Half the fun of a superhero universe (for me) is how it keeps crossing over with itself in new and interesting ways. Because each one is a new and fun challenge.

A few years ago, Marvel had a massive crossover called Civil War which almost everything tied into. Well, not only did I take all the issues I liked and put them in chronological order (That goes without saying.), but I edited the whole crossover together in a way that felt intentional, like the whole thing was one big novel and I was just assembling it. I think I succeeded in organizing and editing the seventy-odd issues that I kept, so that if you start at the beginning and read through issue by issue in order it seems like the whole thing is one story. (Even though that wasn't the intention of the creators!)

That's the beauty of digital files- you can do whatever you like with them. When I see a typo, well, why should I have a typo in my comics collection? I take out the offending page, and I fix it. That's often harder than you'd think. Comic scans are necessarily imperfect, because it's not coming direct from the digital source. Actually printing the thing causes a lot of flaws, and then scanning it back into the computer messes it up further. None of this is especially noticeable while reading, but if I'm editing the file the imperfections need to be consistent throughout the image, so I can only change it by using other parts of the image to patch over it. But here I'm getting too technical. The bottom line is, I can change the images.

I have gone quite far in abusing this ability. During Civil War, there were some issues which added a really interesting element to the overall story I was constructing, but weren't actually good comics. So I'd chop them up! In the most radical case, I took a nearly-unbearable three issues with wasted potential, and edited them down to one 15-page issue which was entertaining. Don't underestimate the power of editing.

And why does a comic need to be exactly 22 pages, anyway? It's because that's the standard length for the paper they're using. In a digital file, it makes no difference! So if there's a back-up story which is really terrible, I can chop it out! And sometimes I do the opposite, adding in pages to the beginning of a comic (before a cover) from earlier issues. Only when there's a good reason for it, of course. But anyway. On a computer, keeping these comics and organizing them into CDs isn't just collecting. It's a creative exercise as well.

3. Socializing
At first I was just doing all this editing for my own benefit. Truthfully, I still mainly am. But I also give the CDs to neighbors now. They wouldn't otherwise read this stuff, and even if they did I imagine they'd only read one or two comics maximum. But I can give them an entire superhero universe in neat chunks of 700 MBs, which they can see what they like in. So I've got two neighbors who I've been giving the discs to, one after the other. It's not unlike how I used to hand out floppy disks in elementary school.

The point of all this is not just to get other people to experience the same things I've experienced (though you know how obsessed I am with that), but also to give topics for conversation. The people I give these comics to are guaranteed to have somewhat different reactions than me, which means I can ask them why and talk about what worked and what didn't and where it all might be going.


Bottom line, digital comics are great. The only legal way to get new comics is to take a train to Tel Aviv (a garbage-dump of a city an hour away) and find a comic store, and then I won't be able to do what I like with it. Sorry, that's not even remotely enticing. Even if I bought the collections, they're much more rigidly constructed than my CDs, because they've only got the space for six or seven issues per book. (Space limitations are so old-fashioned.) I really couldn't go legal without losing a lot.

The trouble with comics piracy is where I'm getting these comics from. First off, every six months or so Marvel's lawyers catch up to me and force the site I'm using to shut down. And then I've got to pick up and find a new place. Each time I start out thinking it's gonna be a temporary source and then I just get more and more comfortable there until it seems really permanent, and then one day the moderators announce without explanation that they will no longer allow Marvel books to be posted.

But it's more than just the running that's annoying. It's the scanners themselves, and the whole community they've built up around them. These people think that because they put a few comic books in a scanner, that they are the kings and queens of the world and should be treated as such. You may not speak to them without complimenting them on what wonderful people they are, or you're banned. And god help you if you say anything which can even be misconstrued as asking when a comic book will be scanned. And if you're not going to be exactly like the scanners, don't bother trying to participate.

The most recent time I tried to get involved in the scanning community was with an issue of Amazing Spider-Man a few months back. The writer went on record that the dialogue of a certain page was a mistake, and he posted a corrected version of the dialogue. So I took the image of that page and started editing. I got it to look the way the writer wanted, which wasn't simple (The dialogue bubbles all needed to be shaped differently!) and took me a few hours. I think it looks really seamless- if you didn't know I'd edited the page heavily, you couldn't notice. Anyway, I thought that maybe this was what I could do for the community that'd given me so much. So I posted my version of the comic, and it was removed a few hours later? You know why? Go on, guess. It's kind of funny really. They said I was disrespecting the scanners! That was hardly the first time I tried to apply myself in the community, but it'll certainly be the last.

Well, whatever. Those are the guys with the comics, so what can you do.


I'd love it if Marvel would start releasing their comics on the internet. I'd pay for them, same as I pay for lots of downloadable games on the Wii. (Just as with the Wii, I'd still illegally get the ones I wasn't willing to pay for.) But it would need to be as good as the illegal stuff, and Marvel will never even conceive of doing that! They'll never give out comics without the ads, and without copy protection, and at the same time as the print comics, and where you can do what you like with it! Because they're a corporation. And corporations are totally clueless.

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If I were smart enough, my interactions with normal people would be amusing math problems.

I'm not nearly smart enough.


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Thursday, July 16, 2009

Artificial Intelligence

I don't believe that human beings are random. Strange, sure. Complex, no question. Stupid, probably. But not random. I have always believed that the people around me were predictable systems, though I have always been incapable of making those predictions.

I also don't believe that human beings are rational at the core. It's all emotions on the bottom. The rationality comes later, as a game which is played for emotional reasons. We come up with rational thoughts only when we need those thoughts.

But let's back up. I believe that human intelligence is theoretically reproducible. And I doubt I will see that feat accomplished within my lifetime.

What passes for "artificial intelligence" these days is like a house built from the roof downward. The benefits of such an approach are obvious:
  1. From a satellite photo, it looks almost the same.
  2. It's affordable to get to that point. (You just need to stop when it gets impossible.)
  3. You can do it quickly.
If you're not left with a real house at the end, that's okay. Having a roof over your head's the most important part, so just dig a little hole underneath it where you can sit and you're all set.

But you probably don't see where I'm coming from with that metaphor, so I'll speak plainly. Modern AI projects mimic the actions of people, but not the processes that led to that action. Human intelligence is based on emotions, and the end result of the whole program looks rational at times. Machine intelligence is based on pure rationality, and if the programmer has a sense of humor he'll tack on some faux emotion to make it seem like it's not just a set of functional rules. Though it is.

The problem, as usual, is capitalism. Programmers aren't altruistic, they're pragmatic. AI only exists in any form because the people working on them have already thought of a use for them. There's a specific job in mind, so you keep adding rules until it can do that job and then you stop. This is a dead-end kind of AI programming. Once you've made the program, it can't learn new things, it can't get better, it can't adapt to a changing environment, and it certainly can't do anything even the tiniest bit outside the tiny range of activities it was specifically programmed for.

That may be good enough for a capitalist, but it's not good enough for me. The promise of AI (as I have learned from science-fiction) is having new people in the world, non-human people. These programs aren't people, they're screwdrivers. You know how the movies always start with some simple program like a chess player or a monitoring system, and then it gets smarter and becomes sentient? Well, it can't possibly work like that. Not even in theory. If you make a screwdriver, a screwdriver is all you'll ever have.

If you want real intelligence, the sort of intelligence that learns and grows and becomes a productive member of society, you've got to start from the ground up. And I strongly believe that this is possible. We can do it. But we're not trying.

To actually have artificial intelligence, you need to make a program which functions -from the bottom up!- like a brain. I don't know exactly what that means, because I don't understand how the brain works. But I see the beginning of the path there. The first step is to assume that everything people ever do is the result of a predictable system built on emotions. (Because it is.)

What that means is that whoever's trying to make a machine think needs to understand all the latest theories about both psychology and neurobiology. Only by looking at both the macro and the micro, and theorizing all the while on how the two are connected, can you reach a sufficient understanding of intelligence to start programming it.

No one's going to do this, and if I sound antagonistic toward the people who pretend they are I apologize. It's just disappointment, you understand. But I understand perfectly well that what I'm suggesting requires genius, nearly infinite patience, and a disconnect from the realities of this capitalist, practical world.

It is possible.

A "neural network" is a series of simulated neurons which are connected to each other. That's a start, but there's a lot more than that. There's no intelligence without emotion. Whatever a program is made for, it needs to actually want that, or else those neurons will have no context. Which means that the chemicals behind impulses and emotions need to be studied, to see how a computer program can simulate those aspects of neurobiology.

There are many practical downsides to all this. It would take decades to program this thing. And then it would take more decades to raise it. And once you do, it'll probably turn out that that specific individual you've created isn't good at what you wanted it to be good at. Actually, chances are it won't be good at doing anything at all. The intelligence of a human is tough enough, but you want it to be the intelligence of a competent human? That could take another few centuries. That means studying the differences between the brains of specific people on an extremely minute level. Alternatively, you could introduce evolution into the mix. Have some sort of mechanism for full brain-simulations to reproduce, and only keep the ones that are doing a good job after years of training. It could take a while. By the time you're finished, whatever job you needed to have done is long since obsolete, and you've just used up trillions of dollars with nothing to show for it yet.

I think I like my world better than yours. My world is rational. Yours is just random.

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When an apparent opportunity is handed to me pre-packaged by someone I can't relate to, it's not a real opportunity.

Edit: I've thought the above statement over, and I can't attach anything resembling logic to it. I enjoyed the data entry job; that's already enough to disprove what I'm saying. Leaving this statement here means I'd need to yell at myself a few posts from now. So I hereby retract that 74, and replace it with this one:

At the moment, I can't find a way to rationally justify never working for other people.


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Monday, July 06, 2009

Myself and I
in which I demonstrate how self-absorbed I am

It seems to me that when we interact with other people, we're secretly hoping they'll be like us. I don't think that's only true with weird people like me, either. Each common interest is another opportunity for interaction. Each agreement means more opportunities to build on (or repeat) that point later. Each common personality trait means less confusion (and therefore frustration) over actions.

Of course, you could also say the reverse. Agreeing on the basics means it's easier to argue about the conclusions. Common personality traits can lead to an exceptional level of animosity if those traits are disliked.

I doubt anyone reading this is going to agree, but this is the conclusion I draw: You can't love another person like you love yourself, and you can't hate another person like you hate yourself. All human interaction is a faint echo of what you'd get (both in positive and negative interactions) if you got yourself a time machine, went back to yesterday, and met yourself.

We can't do that, obviously. Yet.

I think the person who gets closest (apart from identical twins, those lucky jerks) is the storyteller. All his characters are reflections of himself, because if they weren't he couldn't know how they'd act. I think writing these characters is closer to interacting with oneself than, say, raising kids, because even though some of the DNA is shared, the actions and reactions are usually unpredictable to both sides. But when you imagine a person, he is a perfect (if quite twisted) copy of yourself.

The fact that character and creator are operating on different planes of existence is a problem, I'll admit. The writer can bridge the gap a bit by introducing some lesson at the end, because then the character sees the hand of the creator, even if it's not recognized for what it is. But the only sustainable way to approximate self-interaction is to have multiple characters. Sometimes it'll be really clear that the characters represent specific aspects of their writer, and sometimes it'll be so subtle that the storyteller doesn't see it himself.

Myself, I don't do subtlety. The first story I remember writing (when I was 5) involved me interacting with a bunch of ghosts. Their names were Mory 1, Mory 2, Mory 3, Mory 4, and so on. And I'm still doing that today, obviously. Telling stories about "Ariel", arguing with the personification of this blog, talking with a girl who's a lot like me I am not.

Yes you are.

Oh, also, you never let me show up anymore.

Okay. The point is, these are all substitutes to getting to talk to myself. Which I haven't gotten to do yet.

So if I ever get unduly frustrated when you show a lack of interest in certain topics, or when you say perfectly reasonable things which I disagree with, or when you act a certain way, please understand that it's nothing personal. I was just kind of hoping to see someone else.

1 Comment:

Blogger Nati said:

I agree with what you're saying - even with that bolded bit nobody's supposed to - but with one caveat:

What other people offer you that you can't truly offer yourself is surprise. It's an intellectual curiousity largely that keeps us interacting with people - I mean, even just reading a story is a sort of interaction.

The other thing others offer us - though this is a bit more complicated and I'm not sure you'd agree - is a sort of confirmation that we exist. If you express some of your inner world to a person and the fabric of space-time doesn't fold into itself or something, that lends your identity a feeling of reality.

We need other people as a sort of vessel to bring our inner world into the outer world.

It's true this'd be easier to do if they were us.

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If you can't solve a problem, then you don't understand it well enough.


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Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Math Story

Previously (10/7/2008):
I wasn't interested in math going into the school system, and I wasn't interested when I left. Math was a series of rules that you needed to memorize. Toward the end of elementary school, I got a video from "The Teaching Company", of an enthusiastic math teacher explaining all of basic math. To him, math was totally obvious. He convinced me that math was totally obvious by explaining and arguing and engaging. For a few years, I was coasting on the perspective I got from that one video. All math was easy to me, because it just made sense. And then I got into more advanced subjects, and was being taught those subjects by teachers with no points to make. Math no longer made sense, so I stopped caring. I didn't really learn anything new after that. That's why I never took the math Bagrut.
There was a time when I looked forward to math tests, as one looks forward to a boss fight in an action game. I guess that'd be ninth grade. I never prepared for them in the usual sense, memorizing rules and revisiting notes. But I was always ready, because in math classes the teacher would keep my mind sharp with riddles. And every now and then I'd read ahead in the textbook, not just to keep up my image as the smartest one in the class but also because I just wanted to see where it went.

When a test day came, everyone else would be groaning. But I was excited by the challenge. I would look at the first question, and be taken totally by surprise by it because I hadn't been paying attention to what everyone else was learning. But it was just another riddle. I'd sit there for a minute, just rereading the question over and over, trying to wrap my head around it. And I'd scribble down some general calculations at the bottom of the test sheet, to figure out what the basic principle was that I'd need to be using. And I kept analyzing and scribbling and pondering until I felt that I understood the question. And then there was no problem at all, just the fun of seeing it through.

Thinking back on it, I guess I had a really nice teacher that year. Russian guy, I think. He got me into a national competition once; I didn't really care about it, but he was pushing me to be in it so I was in it. I got in, and then I dropped out because I just wasn't as fast as anyone else there. See, the questions were much tougher. And I could have analyzed and pondered and scribbled for hours and hours, and I'm confident I could have figured it out. But there was a time limit.

I remember having trouble with time limits. Often I'd realize during a test that there were only twenty minutes left, and I still had too many questions left. Then I'd need to rush myself, and I got into a bit of a panic. Learning-by-doing works, but it's slow. You can't be slow.

There was a competition before that -not a serious one, but a competition- that I was in. Sixth grade. (I guess I must have already been doing well at math by that point.) It was a silly little thing, set up by our school for boys of my grade. It was in our local matnas, the same place where we recently opened 1776. I don't remember the format. What I do remember is being up there, on stage, feeling that I needed just another thirty seconds, and I remember crying so that they'd give me what I wanted. Man, I was a crappy kid. I think they caved and gave me a bit more time. In the end I won. Probably first place, though I can't be sure. The prize was the board game Abalone, which to this day I've played probably three times.

Those competitions didn't make much impression on me at the time.

In between the two there was seventh grade, where I spent the classes scribbling Visual Basic code onto math paper, or improving the alphabet I'd invented the year before. (I called it "Arellian", after my middle name. I don't call it that anymore.) The teacher once gave me a tenth grade test, and I passed it. It was a really simple test- it must have been for the three-point bagrut guys. That's why, at a time when I suspected I was going to get expelled, I was instead allowed to skip eighth grade.

That's why in ninth grade, I felt a lot of pressure to seem more intelligent than I actually was. If I wasn't always the best in the class at whatever I had a chance to be good at, everyone would see me as privileged. As the spoiled little boy who cried about how terrible school was until people gave in and treated him to what he didn't deserve. So in computer class I started (and never continued) working on a Breakout game, in Hebrew grammar class I was correcting everyone else's mistakes, during recesses I'd show off my piano playing, and in math class I needed to be above everyone else.

It may very well be that I would have done all this anyway, but there was a lot of pressure to be that person all the time. There was especially a lot of pressure in math class, because we started sharing that with the neighboring school, whose students were more typical Israelis who -I was certain- would have mocked me for any slip-ups.

When people came to me for help with their math homework, on the one hand I was happy because it meant I was still doing okay, but on the other hand it meant that I needed to be very careful. For the first thirty seconds of frantically analyzing the question, I knew less than the person asking about how to solve such a problem. And I needed for them to not see that, or else I'd be a joke.

(That was the year when I briefly considered developing multiple personalities. I didn't realize at the time that it was a well-known practice, rather than just an idea I myself had invented. I never started, though, because I never saw an immediate need that year.)

The following year we moved to the Mevasseret yeshiva's campus, and used their math teacher. He was a loathsome fellow, who mocked his students rather than challenging them. I saw the reason for this on many occasions: he didn't really understand math, and was using this behavior to cover for it. (I'm only thinking about this now, but he must have been so nervous walking into the classroom.) I stopped trying to act smart, and very slowly the rest of the grade caught up in their memorizations with what I understood. And then tests were something I dreaded. I had lost most of my motivation for learning math, but I sometimes was incapable of understanding the questions in the time allotted. The first time that year I had a math test I couldn't pass, I walked back to the bus crying. Still spoiled, I guess.

The last math teacher I had was lousy, but not offensively so. For a time I came to classes and spent them imagining videogames, and then I just stopped coming.

Every now and then Dena asks me to help her with her homework. It hurts me a little, because I can't anymore. I really can't. Things which used to make sense to me (with some effort) no longer make any sense at all.

I still use math every now and then. In programming games, I often run into very simple geometry or algebra problems which I solve on bits of scrap paper. Very rarely there's a trigonometry problem. I can solve them, with some effort.

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

To this day, I remember you teaching me some math in fourth grade, which made an impression on me because I was at the top of my class at the time. Nobody my age would ever teach me any math.

You're have a gift for math, you know. Every so often, I feel sad that your math talent is being ignored, but then I remember that you're doing what you feel like you should be doing and are using other talents you have in the process. Then I'm not so sad.

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Oklahoma is now behind me, cast party and all.

It seems as though there should have been some sort of opportunity there. If so, I missed it.


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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

A Discarded Opportunity

I don't think I've ever told this story to anyone before. That makes it a little bit harder to be sure of the details, since a retelling could be a good reference point in my memory. Some of the details which I do remember seem very off: for instance, I remember that this took place in a shack off in the middle of nowhere, next to a twisty road on a hill and far away from any life. My memory is clearly prone to hyperbole. But I'm sure it actually did happen in real life.

It must have been around eight years ago. Some famous pianist was coming from America to play some difficult concerto, and it said in the newspaper that he was giving a master class. When I read the column, I didn't think too much of it. I'm sure I wasn't too excited about the idea of a master class. But my parents must have encouraged me to go, because I went. There were maybe twenty seats set up in this little room with two upright pianos. The only people who had come were me and some older guy. ("Older" is relative, of course: he might just have been a teenager.)

The experience bore no resemblance to my expectations. I heard "class" and I thought I'd be sitting back and listening while some great pianist talked about something or other. I don't know what the plan was; it might have changed when no one showed up. But there was very little talking. The pianist came with someone else, and he was doing a lot more talking than the pianist. He played some sort of wind instrument, don't ask me which. They asked to hear what I could play. So I played my one and only composition, Celebration. I only played the first half of it, because I was embarrassed to go further. I sort of let it trail off and said "and then it continues from there.". I wish the story were around five years later, so that I'd have had more to do there.

The other person improvised some jazz for them. The guy who was doing the talking (whoever he was) complimented the playing. He said, "I really like what you're doing with your left hand. Usually the left hand is just accompaniment, but you're actually doing a melody with it." (I don't know why I remember this so clearly.) And for around an hour after that, it was just lots of improvising. Three-part jazz improvisations, with the two pianists and the wind guy. Then we all left, because it was clear that no one else was going to come.

But before we did, he made me an offer. He said I should come and play with them. I don't understand why. Maybe he saw some potential talent in my very primitive first composition. But he said the time and place where I should come, and I didn't see that as a real opportunity. I wasn't going to be a musician, I knew that even back then. So his offer was just words, there was no chance I was going. I said something to the effect of "I'll see if I can.", and he knew I wasn't taking the offer seriously. He tried to impress upon me that they'd played at Carnegie Hall, that they could teach me a few things.

Well, whatever. I didn't take the opportunity, and at this point it seems as though I might have imagined it. I left there, went up the winding hill to a bus stop, and waited for a half-hour or so for a bus to come.

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What I've written of Variations on V.O.V. is nice, but I think it needs to be the first movement in a four-movement piece.


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Monday, June 08, 2009

My interpretation of The Path

An old lady lies on her deathbed, and can't shake the nagging feeling that she's had an empty life. (This is why she is dressed in white.) She tells herself that there is only one correct "path" to take in life, and that she has taken it. But she can't quite convince herself. So she imagines how she could have been a different person, a more interesting person, when she was younger. The game takes place inside her mind.

Each of these possibilities appears in the game as a girl. One is enthusiastic about animals. One is enthusiastic about art. One is enthusiastic about exploring. One is enthusiastic about men. And so on. The old lady who never got too close to anything imagines herself as a pure little kid dressed in white, and watches these red-clothed girls try to do better than she did. She occasionally pushes them along, either to go to the straight path or to get to the ultimate realization of their enthusiasm.

The purpose of this mental exercise is for the old lady to reassure herself that personality is bad. The girls' clothes are red, which in my opinion represents only death. If this dying woman can prove to herself that the path she took is better than any other, than (she hopes) she can be comfortable with death. So the white girl puts on an air of objectivity, pretending she does not care which way the girls go, but really what she wants is to see them all die in worse ways than herself.

If a red girl follows the path, she gets exactly where the old lady got: to the boring house where she sits in her bed. This is unsatisfying and the woman considers it a "failure", because she has proven nothing. Whatever girl made it there continues to hang around in the house, continuing the nagging sense that there could have been a better life.

But if she leaves the safe path and finds the place reflective of her own personality, the old lady wins, because then she can imagine gruesome ends for each of these girls. So the animal-lover is eaten by a werewolf, and the explorer drowns in a big lake, and the man-chaser gets chopped up by a madman with an axe. And the white woman can take comfort in her own blandness, because it couldn't have ended in that horror.*-------

(At the "successful" endings, there's always a bed. The most obvious interpretation is that it stands for sex, but I think it's actually the deathbed, or the idea of dying peacefully. In these nightmares, that bed is always inaccessible or ruined.)

"Success"! That girl leaves her alone, leaving only a few other possibilities to weigh on her shoulders.

So one by one, the lady puts her imaginary selves into the forest, and enjoys seeing them mutilated and tortured. Finally she is rid of all of them, and there is no one left in the house but herself. So the white girl walks through the forest, seeing all the places and not bothering to interact with any of them. There's a red tent, which she can enter and exit at will. "Ha!", she says, "I can pretend to have personality too, but because it's not real I can get out of it again untarnished! But look at you! You took yourselves too seriously, and ended up living short, hellish lives!". The forest is quite boring without anything to do in it. Finally she goes back to her house, as plain as ever, and looks back at where she's ended up. There she is in that bed, in the moments before her death, and next to her bed she imagines a wolf waiting to devour her, which might never have actually been there.

Then she realizes where she is. She has never taken any risks and still she is dying! In her house, the white girl finds her dress covered in red. In death she is just the same as the others! And so the red girls, who she thought herself rid of, come back in one by one, and her self-image of purity leaves.

5 Comments:

OpenID stone_ said:

Red usually signifies sin, temptation, desires. I'd that's how it sounds like it's being used here.

 Mory said:

Well, yes. I guess saying "only death" was overstating it. But red is also blood. I think the desires are supposed to be associated with death, since it's all the same color. That's how I explain the ending, where the white girl has red on her dress even though she never seemed to care about anything.

Blogger Elly said:

well done. i really like that.

Anonymous said:

very interesting game, love the interpretation

Anonymous said:

The best interpretation I have ever read about The Path.. Good job.

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Sunday, June 07, 2009

I'm supposed to be working now.
It's pretty late already. Shouldn't you have been working earlier?
Yeah. But Miriam finally asked to see Synecdoche, New York, so I changed the log-out time in Access Boss.
So why aren't you working?
Oh, I don't have to work right now. I set it to 6:00.
You said you were supposed to be working now.
Did I? Oh, I guess I did. I didn't mean that.
Sure you didn't.
Anyway, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing.
I bet you do.
No, I really don't. That's why I'm coming to you.
Me? What do I know about making games?


Um.
Exactly.
Well, you don't really need to know anything. I guess I need to work it out for myself, and if you don't, um, do you mind if I bounce ideas off of you?
Whatever.
Is that a yes?
Yes.
Okay, so what's the last thing I did?
How should I know?
You're not being helpful. I was asking myself.
Do I even need to be here?
Okay, you ask me.
What?
Ask me what I did last.
This is silly.
Look, I need someone looking over my shoulder here. Pointing me in the right direction.
No, really. This is really silly.
Blah. You're no help.
Well, I'm sorry! What do you want from me?
Okay, could you just sort of stay there and pretend you care while I think about what it is I'm up to?
Of course, your highness.




I have the numbers.
What numbers?
The numbers that show how to move the character for basic movement. I did the same thing earlier with my own silly little design, but now I have the numbers that apply to Kyler's design.
So why don't you just plug them in or whatever?
It doesn't work like that. Anyway, the numbers aren't usable right now.
What does that mean?
Well, um. How do I explain this.
I'm not stupid.
Oy, that's not what I mean. Okay, um.. the numbers are relative to points that aren't going to be useful in the final game, and all the pictures they relate to are the wrong size for the final game. I guess I need to resize everything, unless I don't.
Why wouldn't you?
Well, I might be using the scaling algorithm which I programmed for the last game. In which case it doesn't matter so much… wait, I guess it does matter what size it is. The whole thing needs to be drawn on screen before everything else, so that the masking thing can work.
Right.
Anyway, right now it's too big to always fit on the screen. So that's no good. I'll need to make it smaller.
Sounds like you know what to do.
I guess so.
Great. Start working.
I told you you didn't have to do that!
So? I like ordering you around.
I'll work when Access Boss kicks me out.
Okay.

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Friday, June 05, 2009

New Potentials

When I saw Microsoft's E3 advertisement for "Project Natal", my first thought was that it was a clichéd opening to a science fiction movie. "Natal is your friend. Trust Natal. It won't try to take over the world, oh no." What this shows, I guess, is that I watch too much science fiction.

But it really is rather science-fictiony. The hardware itself is nothing impressive: a microphone and two cameras. But what the software does with it is amazing. The two cameras' data is combined to form a 3D model of the room and everything in it. Then facial recognition is applied to figure out which people are there. And then it looks at what their bodies are doing, by which I mean their entire bodies -head, torso, hands, arms, legs, feet- and converts that into movement data for 3D avatars. It also seems that it can recognize other sorts of inanimate objects in the room and what's being done with them. And it can apparently pick up on emotions from subtle cues in the player's face. And they threw in voice recognition too, so you can talk to the TV.

This whole package is codenamed "Project Natal". They're implying that it'll be an add-on for the XBox 360, but I don't buy it. I've heard this story before, and that's not how it goes. Back when the Wii was still "Project Revolution", it was teased as an add-on for the Gamecube. But Nintendo realized that they'd make more money treating it as a brand-new product. The Wii is barely more powerful than the Gamecube, and in fact uses most of the same technology. But while the Gamecube brand was third-place in a competition for the hardcore gamers, the Wii is selling ridiculous amounts to more casual gamers. By making the controller more user-friendly and appealing to the masses, they easily overtook Microsoft and Sony.

Now Microsoft is copying their entire business model, which is a sensible move. The project doesn't have a real name yet because it's still in relatively early stages of development. I'm guessing they'll be ready for release in 2011, by which point the XBox 360 will be old technology and the market will support a new one. And that's what this is: a new game system which has full-body motion control as a standard feature.

As with the Wii before it, Project Natal opens up many opportunities for gamists. You can communicate with NPCs through body motions like waving and nodding and shrugging, not to mention talking. You can play movement games with actual movement in an abstract context. You can reach out to pick things up and throw them or move them around. Being able to move the camera just by moving your head a little (a natural instinct for anyone) should now be easy to implement without any extra hardware. (I wonder if it can track your eye movements, to realistically adjust the focus based on what you're looking at. It probably isn't fast or precise enough.) Action can be more visceral when you're actually hitting things. Puzzles can be more relaxing without the need for a conventional interface.

What Microsoft is really planning is simpler than all that, though. They want the casual gamers that the Wii has pulled into the market. Project Natal is exactly the sort of thing Nintendo wishes they had. They've been trying to make games that everyone can and will play, and this is just about as close as you can get to that short of inventing the holodeck. Not needing buttons means games could be more accessible than a DVD player. Invite over all your friends, get 'em to stand around, and just start playing- that's the idea. Which means that much like we've seen with the Wii, I don't expect many particularly deep experiences with this technology. It'll mostly be easy and simplistic mini-games, especially with multiplayer. I'm not even sure if Project Natal can handle more than that- it doesn't seem particularly precise. But regardless of how good it is, it increases the audience size for games even more than the Wii did.

This game system will never be in our house, for the obvious reason that it wouldn't work here. If kicking a ball in-game is done by making a full kicking motion in the real world, then we just don't have enough space for it. You'd need to be pretty far back from the TV anyway, so that the cameras can see you clearly. So I'm guessing they're going to be selling more of these to those enormous American houses than to tiny Japanese apartments. And the room our TV is in is cramped.

Beyond that, I'm not sure I'd want this thing in our house. At this point I no longer have any illusions about my family: they're not going to play games. If the greatest minds in gamism got together with unlimited resources for making specialized hardware and said "Let's make a videogame that the Buckman family would play together!", they wouldn't succeed. So it doesn't matter if this machine has full-body motion control or full-mind telepathy, its main purpose -getting new gamers- is not going to work here.


This system is still going to need some sort of controllers, unless Microsoft is planning on abandoning all gamers who like to play their games for more than five hours total. The motion-control doesn't seem precise enough to sustain a good single-player game for longer than that. You still need something to aim with, something to push around. Whether these will be conventional controllers, I don't know. Maybe a game could be bundled with a cheap specially-shaped piece of plastic, and the camera would see how you're interacting with that. It seems doable, though I don't know if anyone will think of it. More likely there will still be games designed for XBox 360 controllers, but where every now and then you move around a bit. I should probably keep in mind that potential and implementation are worlds apart. How much of the Wii's potential has been used? Heck, how much of the DS's potential has even been used?

In their press conference, Microsoft was heavily playing up the potential. (Same as Nintendo does.) They had a demonstration of a person interacting with a very human-seeming NPC. It's a mind-blowing video, but on reflection it doesn't seem feasible to me, at least not for a lengthy game. There are too many possible interactions, between body motions and voice interaction, for any human gamists to be able to deal with on a large scale. (And since "Microsoft SkyNet" hasn't been announced yet, you still need humans programming this stuff.) I suppose if you had twenty years and the budget of a medium-sized country you could do it.

But for all this pessimism, I am really excited about what Project Natal means. Here's another barrier between the Real World and the game world getting knocked down. If this is the shape of progress, then where will gamism be in ten years? How about fifty years? The mind boggles.

Now, Project Natal -as I've said- is probably two years away. Nintendo's high-ups responded to this announcement by joking that they like to test things out and make sure they work before announcing them to the public. But regardless, Microsoft has made the Wii seem pretty obsolete. The Wii remote is a joke, at least in how it's been used up to this point. The much-hyped motion control is implemented just by having you make a flicking motion every now and then instead of pressing a button.

This Monday, Nintendo releases their precision attachment for the Wii remote, which I mentioned after last year's E3. (They're also releasing yet another add-on, this time something that checks your pulse! No, seriously. I can't imagine what they're thinking.) I think it's called "MotionPlus" or something silly like that. Now, it's definitely more precise than anything Microsoft has planned. I read an interview with some developers of a sports game for this thing who said that it was too precise, and they had to "dilute" the input a bit to make the game playable. That's good to hear. I don't expect many games to use this thing properly, though. Red Steel 2 looks cool, a guns-and-swords action game that uses the precise movement to control all sword swipes. Beyond that, I don't know if there will be any games at all I'm interested in with the peripheral.

Sony's got their own motion controller in development too. It seems pretty far along, so I'm guessing they'll release it next year to boost sales of the PS3. And seeing as how -like the MotionPlus- it's a "sold separately" sort of peripheral, I don't expect many games to use that either. But it seems to be the most precise of the three technologies, which is cool. There's definitely stuff you could do with that.

These are all huge steps, making games more real in the minds of the player and getting closer to the dream of believable fantasies. But I see very little evidence that gamists' mindsets are changing along with the times. When games are able to connect directly to our brains, will gamism still be in the same primitive position it's in now?

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Tuesday, June 02, 2009

I'll keep this brief.

Oklahoma's opening went great. The audience filled the house, they were roaring with laughter at every joke, and when we finished singing the song "Oklahoma" they went crazy. We all had fun, too. I really should be asleep now, because I need to wake up early tomorrow to be there for the first show. I'm not at all unhappy to be in this show.

The reason I'm rushing through this, rather than waiting until tomorrow and posting in depth, is because with Microsoft's announcement of "Project Natal" suddenly this play seems awfully small. I'm finding it hard to sleep not only because it's so beastly hot in here (and not only because it's too early) but also because I can't stop thinking about this new technology. I don't know when I could possibly have the time to talk about it, but when I do I will. There's much to say.

2 Comments:

OpenID stone_ said:

I saw a 1:18 video of "Oklahoma" posted on Facebook. It looked great. You even looked like you were smiling and having a good time.

 Mory said:

Let's put it this way. I am having a pretty good time. But the smiling is for the character. All the characters in the show (including the chorus) are brainless.

My family actually told me they felt I was going too far with the smiling, and that I was always smiling more than anyone else. So I've toned it down.

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Monday, June 01, 2009

Respite From Everything Else

When the double-header of Shavuot-Shabbat came a few days ago, it was almost a relief. Sure, there's nothing to do on Shabbats and holidays. But at least I wouldn't feel guilty for not working on my game.

This morning I tried working. (Access Boss kicked me out of my user at 2:00.) I say "tried" because I'm having very little success. I always feel like I'm playing that unwinnable game of Tetris -------
the lines only disappear temporarily
you need to get all the lines simultaneously
the lines only disappear temporarily
all lines come back
, where my efforts don't feel anything like progress. Today the way I spent the time was by trying to figure out how much to multiply the X and Y values I was using in the prototype, so that it works with Kyler's design. The mathematical answer I found doesn't seem to work at all. I was getting a ride with Harvey around 4:30, so I left the house at maybe 4:25. (He picks me up right across the street.) I was in a terrible mood, but I didn't bring my DS. The idea was that maybe if I had nothing to do, some sort of inspiration would hit and I'd know what to do next. (This didn't happen.)

Oklahoma opens tomorrow. This was the dress rehearsal on stage. Backstage I try to be friendly (by my standards) with my fellow cast mates, because with home being how it is I'd like to be comfortable away from it. On stage, I never feel like I know what I'm supposed to be doing: Where exactly am I supposed to be standing? What sorts of movements am I supposed to make while I'm there? What's the timing supposed to be for my lines? Binder has made it clear that there is a right thing to do at any moment, but he rarely makes it clear what that is. Almost no one knows when they're supposed to be getting on and off the stage; we all just stand around and wait for the one person who seems to know his cue and then we all rush to follow him. The upside is that this isn't my show. If I don't know what I'm doing, no big deal. The show will go on regardless of what I'm doing. The downside is that at the end of the day, I haven't learned anything and haven't accomplished anything. And for this I'm sacrificing most of my day.

I've finally gotten home, in a lousy mood. And I'm trying so hard not to think of how much I'm going to hate this week (six performances!), that I think I see what I need to do for my game tomorrow. I've got to go back to square one. I don't feel like I'm making progress because I'm not making progress. I've been trying to manipulate Kyler's design so that it functions like my design. But that's never going to work. His design is totally different, and I'm moving it around in a totally different way. So anything I figured out for the prototype can't be more than a very rough guideline. That prototype wasn't easy to make, but if it's not helpful it's not helpful. The downside of having my own project is that if I get stuck there's no one to bail me out. The upside is, no one's waiting for me to get there. (Except maybe Kyler. I do feel guilty about making him wait for this.) So it can take as long as it takes.

It's like I always say: misery leads to progress.

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Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Start working.



I said start working!



Listen to me, you brainless moron!

Look, not today.

That's what you said yesterday.

Okay. Look, to make it up to you I'll set Access Boss so that from now on, I'm not allowed in my regular user after 2:00 PM.

Oh, and I suppose you won't just disable that as soon as you have a sudden impulse at 1:55!

No. I promise I won't.

You are downright obnoxious, do you know that?

What? What did I ever do to you?

What did I ever.. oh my god, do you even HEAR yourself? Why did you even start this ridiculous Notepad thing?

You don't like Notepad, fine. I'll switch back to the blog.
That is totally not the point! Why the hell did you pretend you were interested in my being there?

Don't make this personal. I really did mean to listen to you every day.

How dare you insult my intelligence like that! You're exactly like he said you were!

Who…?

You just make characters out of us so that you can pretend we don't matter!

I really did mean to
You meant to? Well, that makes me feel so much better!
Why do you even care? I just thought it might be easier to listen to you than to the blog or a program, it never was about you.
No, you're right. It never is about me. It's all about you. All about your stupid little blog-story. Tell me, what brilliance were you setting up this time?


I was going to build up to… um, it doesn't matter. Fine, you're right.

Good. Start working.


I mean, I won't ask you to do that again. It's not your problem if I don't do my work.

Don't you understand? I want you to do your work. What's the point of even existing, if I'm only existing for the benefit of some loser who refuses to do an hour a day of work?!



I don't know.
Look, I'll set Access Boss.



Moron.

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GAME OVER



Press START to go to Main Menu

A Good Day

When I woke up and went to my computer, the first thing I did was open Notepad so I could have another argument. I was told I'd have to get started working right away, but I decided to be a bit rebellious.

First I watched the bits of the 1776 DVD that I was in, to see how I did. It turns out, I'm a really bad actor. I was making all the amateur mistakes that I thought I'd gotten over. I shut it off around 1:00 PM, when my character went to the back of the crowd (where he'd stay).

I took a shower, got dressed, had lunch, and went over to Eli's house. Eli said he'd let me play The Path on his computer some time. I decided that "some time" was today. The Path is a pure exploration game from the people who made The Graveyard, so I was expecting great things. I wasn't disappointed: The Path is awesome. It's based on "Little Red Riding Hood". You play as several different girls of different ages, who each walk through the forest to Grandma's house (Grandma's house representing death) and find a metaphorical wolf, different for each of them. The wolf represents the loss of innocence for that particular character. We played four girls, and got to the wolf in each. (By my interpretation one was the indifference of the world, one was a sexual predator, one was lust and one was the over-analysis of everything.) Once you get to the wolf, life discards you back on the path to Grandma's house. And then you get to the pay-off, because "Grandma's house" itself is possibly the greatest achievement in world design ever.

I came home a few hours later, played piano for an hour or so and went back to my computer.

I've been rewatching Lost recently because the fifth-season cliffhanger has me utterly enthralled and the next episode is in eight months. I'm up to the middle of Season 2 already, so I watched the next two episodes from there. I also listened to the corresponding official podcasts, because I didn't know that existed back when I was watching Lost the first time. I think Lost may prove to be the best show ever on TV (unseating Babylon 5), depending on how the final season goes. (If the final season doesn't pay off all the promises they've made, then it'll just be an excellent show. Maybe a few notches above Battlestar Galactica, but not as good as, say, Felicity.) Half the fun of the show is trying to figure out the big picture. That picture may be compelling and sensible, or it may be ridiculous and contradictory. I'll have to wait until next year to find out which, but in the meantime I'm trying to sift through the clues and form my own theories.

After Lost and supper and more Lost, I went next door for games night. We played three games, and I came in dead last in three games. It was so much fun. The middle game in particular (Santiago) had such weird tactics going on, and so much evil all over the place, and so many surprises. The best part was when we all passed on a strong-looking property because it would have to go with a weaker property that no one wanted. When it was Avri's turn he realized that if he took the weaker property the next player would take the stronger property, they'd go together well and he'd make tons of money. It was a completely counter-intuitive move, but after we saw that he was doing it and understood the logic we were all beating ourselves up for not realizing that we could have done it! Now that's a rare kind of situation. In the last game (Die Sieben Siegel), I opted to do something that hurt me because it would hurt another player more, and when he got back at me it messed up all my plans. It was terrific.

At around 1:15 AM or so we called it a night. I went home in a great mood, had some coconut yogurt and Nestea, and started writing up this post. At the end of the day, I am in fact a lazy bum. And I feel like I can live with that.

1 Comment:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Though you came in last in Santiago, you would have come in second if I took your bribe I think, so I wouldn't call it dead last.

Really my choice of whose bribe to take in the end was pretty arbitrary.

I think it was really played by all sides. It was the most enjoyable game of Santiago I've ever played. Hysterical situations, everybody made a mistake or two, a really brilliant move or two, etc. I think if Eliezer had played nice with you with the bannanas (like he should have) the end of game would have been different.

But yeah, it was one of the most enjoyable games I've ever played, and not just because I won :) That was entirely secondary.

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Monday, May 25, 2009

2.txt

You've got to start working, you know.

Not yet.

Then when?

I dunno. Maybe in a few hours.

Look, what time are you leaving for rehearsal?

Hm. I guess that'd be around 6:30. That's the time it usually is if I can get a ride.

Very good. That means you've got around five hours or so, when you take out all the eating and playing piano you do. How many Lost episodes do you have?

Umm, let me check.
Five.

Ha! You'd spend all your time on that, wouldn't you?

I guess I would.

Listen to me very carefully. When I say "Start working.", you stop everything and you start working.

Just like that?

Just like that. You need to start working at once. I don't care what else you'd like to be doing; your game is more important.

Why do you care?

You know why. So are we okay?

I guess so.

When I say "Start working.", what do you do right away?

I start working. You're being annoyingly condescending, you know.

I love you, but you and I both know you deserve no better.

Gee, thanks.

For now you can do whatever you like. But only for a half-hour or so,

A half-hour? That's not enough!

An hour, then. No more.

Okay.

Good. By the way, when I say "Start working.", you don't argue. You don't talk back, you don't try to work a deal. I'm not going to put up with that. When I say "Start working.", you WORK. End of story.



What'cha doing?

Reading my own blog.

Why?

Mind your own business, okay? It hasn't nearly been an hour.

I'm just curious, is all.

Fine. Well, the time I'm spending talking to you is time I could be spending reading my blog.

Well, then certainly spend more time talking to me. Seems like the better option of the two.

Leave me alone.



You know, I don't think I've ever taken anything as seriously in my life as Dena and her friends are taking their four-point math Bagrut.

I guess that doesn't say much about them. What is it that they're doing?

They spent all of yesterday studying, and then today they came again early on in the day and they're still studying. It's ridiculous.

Imagine how much you would have accomplished if you worked on your games like that.

Yeah.

This is why you need me.

I could use the blog.

But for some strange reason you're not. What, have you given up on the blog format?

No, no. I just don't want to be talking to a blog for my whole life.

Why not?

The progress report posts really, um, they really clog up the flow of the blog.

You sound like you're rationalizing. Here's my theory. You won't use the blog because you know you'd have to be productive.

I can be productive.

Suure.

No, I can.

Start working.

What? But it hasn't been an hour!

I said start working. No more argument.

Yes sir.



I hate you.

Why? You got a lot done.

This work makes me miserable. Nothing works the way it's supposed to.

I thought you liked suffering.

No, I do not like suffering.

Yes you do.

Listen to me. This work is the most annoying thing I've ever done. If it were anyone other than you forcing me to do it, I'd tell them to go to hell.

That's sweet.

I'm serious. Programming is a form of hell.

What's the problem?

I've made all these different tests. Each one seems to more or less make sense on its own, but they're all incompatible with each other on a fundamental level. Like, the way I'm thinking about one of them doesn't fit with the way I'm thinking of any of the others. And beyond that, this new test I'm doing to try to get it to look right only looks decent maybe a third of the time. Which means it's going to need to be even more complicated than it is in order to work, in ways that I don't even understand yet. It's just a total nightmare from start to finish.

Well, tough.

Excuse me?

Tough. You'll get through it, and then you'll thank me. So how long have you been working?

An hour and a half.

You're lying to me.

Okay, maybe an hour.

Okay. Yesterday you didn't do any work, so I guess this is progress. What would you like to do now?

Honestly? I'd like a good cry.

That's pathetic. It's just programming.

You have no idea.

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Sunday, May 24, 2009

continue extrapolate repurpose

Previously:
1 5 6
I apparently am in love with three notes, since they start a lot of my pieces. They are: 1 5 6. … The 1 grounds it. "Here is what you're standing on." The 5 brings that to its natural conclusion, fifths being the most pure interval. … 6 changes the meaning of the chord. In minor it's just the tiniest bit removed from 5, but flips the whole chord's meaning upside down. See, 6 is just two notes under 1 (or 8), which means that that's suddenly the "real" base of the chord. A tiny little half-tone increment, and suddenly the chord isn't what you thought it was. That's interesting to me.
With any long-running series of fiction I care about, I have a very specific idea about where I'd like to see it go in the future. The hope is that someday I'll be so rich and famous that I'll get to do it myself, but realistically that's never going to happen. The ideas are going to stay in my head as fan fiction.

It recently occurred to me that all my ideas are following the same formula. First I establish my take in accepted continuity, using as many past elements as I can. Then I try to imagine how that would naturally play out, connecting all the pieces together and going farther with them than their creators intended. And then I flip the whole thing around, so that it's actually not the same kind of story at all as the ones it's following.

The story wouldn't necessarily happen in that order; that's just the order I'd figure it out in.

I really love the idea of continuity. (You may have guessed that from the way this blog is presented on the main page.) A long-running series is like a person, and each thing that's happened in it is like another aspect of its personality. So the way I would continue a series is by trying to remember everything- not just the universally-loved stories, but the terrible and ridiculous stories too. What you call a flaw, I call an interesting aspect to the continuity. Writers often try to cherry-pick continuity, sweeping away those flaws in favor of a cleaner status quo. That feels as fake to me as people under heavy make-up. The only story which should be forgotten is a story which can't be reconciled with the rest of continuity.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The strangest phone call I have ever had, part 2

I walked with Yardena to the bus stop as she left for work. We hugged for a while, and then the bus came and she was off. I started walking toward the park which I'd once stumbled into, with lots of nooks and crannies where one might be creative. When I got there, I called Tuvia and pitched him my idea.

The album starts out with Brahms' Lullaby reinterpreted as a loud late-night party, like so... -"I love it, it's Brahms with syncopation! You know, there are people who...". There would be a few other tracks in there somewhere with similar subversions.

Every time a new ingredient is added to continuity, it increases the number of stories that can be told in the future. Every character arc has a logical next step to take. Furthermore, if story A introduces a character or idea, and story B introduces a character or idea, you can usually infer a story C which involves both of those elements knocking into each other. Obviously the thematic connection isn't always straightforward, but that's why it's good to take a very analytical view of continuity and figure out how everything fits together before writing a single story. (You may have gathered from this blog that I like being analytical.)

Once I decide how I think everything fits together and where it would naturally lead, I need to flip it around so that it feels like a fresh story. Just a few new characters or ideas thrown in can change the whole perspective of the story, making you think about it in a way you otherwise would have overlooked. The idea is to find some new angle that hasn't yet been explored, by putting in one or two small elements that you'd normally never think would go together with the story. That way, each time you see the next chapter of the story, you get new ideas about what the whole series was about all along.

I guess I must have picked up this formula from what Straczynski did with Amazing Spider-Man. He pointed to all the animal-based villains which Spider-Man faces (Vulture, Rhino, Doctor Octopus, Vermin, Scorpion, etc. etc.), and suggested that there was a subconscious effort there to adopt animal "totems". Then he threw in the idea of a "Spider-God", which chose Peter Parker as its champion, and suddenly the whole series seemed to be a mythological epic. I think that whole run is brilliant.

One of my favorite pieces of comics writing, Dan Slott's first twelve issues of Avengers: The Initiative, also seems to follow the formula. It has a starting point of the entire Marvel Universe in its current status quo, brings in as many old characters as it can stuff in along with a bunch of new characters whose origins make sense given what's been established in Marvel Comics so far. The whole premise of the series is based on what logically would be there if you take the post-Civil War status quo seriously. Then it adds in government bureaucracy, and suddenly it seems like the whole Marvel Universe is a tragedy about how governmental interference can sap the life out of people.

Anyway, these things have inspired me and now I think that the "continue extrapolate repurpose" formula is the best way to continue most long-running series. Of course, that's not how I think about it when I imagine how a series should continue. I just get ideas from watching what's already being done; I can't help that. And it turns out (in retrospect) that all my ideas do pretty much the same thing with their respective series. Here's what I'd like to see:

*psst* Stop reading now. The rest of this post is gonna be unbelievably annoying in its fanboy geekishness and ooh-look-at-me self-congratulation.

Star Trek: Federation
It would be set a while after all the series so far. Potential wars have been averted or won (including one with the Vaadwaur race, met in Dragon's Teeth, a lousy episode of Voyager's last season), all their former enemies are either dead or allies. The Klingons and Ferengi are full members, the Vaadwaur and Dominion are being welcomed into the Alpha Quadrant, the Romulans are mostly wiped out from the destruction of Romulus. Even the Borg have found a place in the great Federation of Planets, giving an optional home to the many people who want to be assimilated but otherwise leaving the universe alone. It's Gene Roddenberry's utopian vision taken to its ultimate realization. Everyone is under the umbrella of the Federation. The question is what comes next.

My answer to that is that a moral decline begins. The different value systems begin to clash with human values, and the new races vying for power (Klingons and Ferengi in particular) start to corrupt the entire Federation. The humans are the good guys of the show, trying to balance their idealistic acceptance of other races with the understanding that there is not as much middle ground to stand on as they would like. The Federation would gradually begin to shift its power toward Vulcan, and away from Earth. In parallel, the proliferation of personal time travel devices and holodecks starts to give ordinary people all over the galaxy the idea that nothing they do matters, that life is no more sacred than holograms and whatever timeline you're in is no more important to save than another.

The twist is that the structure would be more like an anthology show. Each episode would be self-contained, showing one or two characters (or a group of characters) somewhere in the galaxy. They'd be introduced in that episode, have a story, and get to some kind of ending, and that could cover as much time (in-story) as the story calls for. There would be recurring themes and technologies and planets and species, but very rarely recurring characters. That would make the whole series feel very different to any previous Trek, getting at the broad strokes of history if you watch more than one episode of it.

The Legend of Zelda: Broken Duet
There would be two playable characters: Link and Enria, an old-girlfriend type character along the lines of Saria and Illia. The basic premise of the story (after a one-dungeon introduction to the characters as kids) is that it's what happens after a typical Zelda quest. Teenaged Link is known throughout peaceful Hyrule as the hero who saved them, he lives in the castle with Princess Zelda, the king sends him off on errands which are all really easy for him. Enria has been left behind at the village where they grew up, being pushed by her family to settle down and get together with a nice local boy, but always wishing she could have adventures with Link.

The gameplay for Link is action, and the gameplay for Enria is climbing. The game would (without spelling it out) expand on the usual "balanced-hero" idea by suggesting that neither Link nor Enria is balanced without the other. As Link, the player is encouraged to solve problems through brute force. As Enria, the player is encouraged to avoid confrontations but explore. And every now and then, Zelda will pop in as a non-playable character and solve "puzzles" with her magic.

The idea is to split up the three parts of the Triforce -Power, Courage, Wisdom- so that future Zelda games can play with the dynamic between them in different ways. For instance, there could be a nonviolent Zelda where the player needs to explore and solve puzzles, but where the Power part of the equation is included by having Ganon -the usual bearer of the Triforce of Power- as a non-playable ally. Or a Zelda game where the player can choose which of three characters to bring into a dungeon, so that the solutions to problems are approached with different kinds of gameplay. Also, the basic gameplay can be different from one Zelda game to the next just so long as a balance is maintained between the three elements. Power can be action, but it could also be real-time or turn-based strategy (strength in numbers). Courage is always exploration, but each game could have a different kind of movement to explore in. And Wisdom is usually puzzles, but it could also be perception. So the idea is create a framework from which many new Zelda games can be made without just repeating what's already been done.

The twist in Broken Duet specifically is that it doesn't exist for the gameplay, but for the characters. It would have dungeons no less abstract than in any other Zelda game, but where you are meant to understand things about the character's personalities and moods from what you're walking through and being asked to do. If one character misses the other, it's represented by an obstacle which the other character would pass easily but this character can't deal with. When Enria is scared about commitment, she finds herself in a claustrophobically tight dungeon with monsters where the only way to continue is toward some monsters. If Link is supposed to be overconfident, then a bunch of giant scary-looking monsters will run at him, do minimal damage and go down in one hit. It all is rooted in the character's personalities and emotions.

The Amazing Spider-Man: "Endgame"
A year-and-a-half ago, there was a lousy editorially-mandated-revision-masquerading-as-a-story called "One More Day". I have no great love for it. But it is a huge part of continuity, so it bothers me greatly that its (very interesting, I think) implications haven't been dealt with. In the issue of Sensational Spider-Man immediately before "One More Day" began, Spider-Man meets God. Not a god, not the spider-god, but the one true god. Who appears to him as an old man, for some reason. God says to Peter: Yeah, I know this is really tough. Your aunt is dying, your life is a wreck, but hey- what you're doing is important. And then "One More Day" happens, in which Mephisto appears to Peter. And Mephisto isn't portrayed as a random demon, he's portrayed as The Devil. And he says, hey, your life sucks. Make a deal with me, and you'll be happier. Which is what Spider-Man does, and we get to the current (very enjoyable) status quo which is a lot more cheery.

The big controversy about the story was that this deal-with-the-devil eliminated Peter's marriage to MJ Watson. But that seems to me like a small part of the story. The bigger story is what was supposed to happen next that was so huge that God and the Devil appeared to Peter Parker to sell him on their preferred continuation. I think the answer comes from a story a year before any of this, entitled "The Other", which was worse than "One More Day" in almost every way. (As I said before, this is no obstacle to my wanting to focus on it.) In it, Spider-Man dies. And is resurrected in the very next issue. That seems like a pretty huge event, no? Funny how nobody remembers it. The justification, in-story, for the resurrection, comes when the spider-god appears to Peter in a dream. It basically tells him he still hasn't figured out what he's supposed to be doing. And the idea of the resurrection is to push that process along. He gets a bunch of new magic-based powers (such as poisonous spikes which pop out of his palms), and is told that finally he'll figure out why he was made Spider-Man to begin with. Immediately after "The Other", the storyline is derailed by the current politics of the Marvel Universe, and then comes "One More Day".

Here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking there's a whole hierarchy of gods, where the spider-god is on the side of God (though it might not realize it) and other gods (such as the Norse god Loki, who incidentally owes Spider-Man a favor) are on the side of the Devil. So if I continued Amazing Spider-Man, I'd start moving in this grand dualistic direction. The idea would be to show how even gritty, street-level crime stories of the sort typical to Spider-Man comics are just part of a big cosmic conflict between ultimate good and ultimate evil. (Which is not how I see the universe, but after "One More Day" it's clearly how Spider-Man comics work.) I'd pull in every character from Spider-Man's past which fits the white-vs-black symbolism appropriate for this kind of storyline, including Cloak and Dagger, the Punisher, Spot, the Black Cat, Will-o'-the-wisp, The Answer, Mr. Negative, Venom and Anti-Venom, etc. What role each character would play in the story would depend both on that character's history in Spider-Man comics and on what color they represent. (Obviously, the color would need to be worked in very subtly. No one could be acting in a way that's out-of-character just to justify my own love of symbolism.) Characters who don't fit in quite as easily (Dr. Octopus, Kraven the Hunter, the Vulture, a generic mafia, Ka-Zar, Morlun) would also be present.

New York City would be played on three levels: At first it needs to seem realistic. Then it needs to seem like it's a jungle, that the "totemistic" behavior of criminals is not restricted to people dressing up like animals but that the kill-or-be-killed mentality pervades all of society. And finally, once the whole world seems like a barbaric jungle with a thin façade of being civilized, the curtain is pulled back and it's made clear that all the good guys are going to have to fight all the bad guys in an end-of-the-world kind of scenario. And it turns out that the only one who can save all of humanity is Spider-Man, because in the grand scheme of things he tips the balance one way or the other.

During this whole massive (likely around three or four years) buildup, there would be "What If?" back-up stories in each issue showing how Spider-Man's life would have continued from "One More Day" on if he had turned down Mephisto's offer. His Aunt May would have died, and with her all hope of a normal life. His marriage to Mary Jane would keep him grounded and human, but he'd always be miserable. Spider-Man would develop his magical powers more, and finally put his scientific genius to good use, and with all that and a cunning understanding of how the underworld works and with all sorts of technological and mystical traps he'd set like webs, and with The Punisher as his sidekick, he'd take down the entire criminal underworld. The back-ups would end with Spider-Man being shot down by the police exactly as he was in the flash-forward of Amazing Spider-Man #500, having created a better world for his and MJ's two kids.

The timeline followed in regular continuity would be much less dark, but be played as much more tragic. Peter Parker's mundane, happy life feels empty to him, and as Spider-Man he feels like he's locked into the same loop he's been in ever since he started. When the endgame finally comes, he's not ready for it. In fact, he's decided to give up the role of Spider-Man to the teenage girl Araña and live a happy life with Gwen Stacy's clone. (Believe it or not, this all has a strong basis in continuity.) And when the world is about to be destroyed, and the Gwen Stacy clone dies, Spider-Man tries to start on the road to his spiritual self-fulfillment but it's almost too late.

Basically, this is a textbook example of the "continue extrapolate repurpose" formula, though really this is such a complex story that maybe it's more a philosophy of storytelling than a simple formula. But what I'm doing here is taking all the elements which have already been there, mixing them all together (even the really wacky parts which come from bad stories) to get a unified vision of Spider-Man's world, and then twisting it all around so that instead of being a generic superhero story it's a religious epic.

I'm obviously not going to get to tell any of these stories. I don't even know if they'd appeal to anyone other than myself. But I sure do wish someone would do it. Every time I see Star Trek, or play Zelda, or read Amazing Spider-Man, I appreciate what it's doing but in the back of my mind I'm thinking how much more I'd like it if it were my way.

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Sunday, May 17, 2009

A buffer from the Real World

Kyler gave me a wonderful character design for The March of Bulk, so elegant that I was scared anything I could do in the programming would mess it up. I played around with it in The GIMP, and after a few hours I thought I saw a way I could deal with it. I made some extremely crude mock-ups and sent them to Kyler. He got back to me with images which were not what I had asked for, which I found frustrating. I asked for what I had said before, and he made that and sent it to me. I played around with the images in The GIMP, and understood why Kyler had made the change. The design I had asked for severely limited the movement, thus making the entire design impossible. Kyler's idea would actually work, though it would look very awkward. After a few hours, I thought I saw a way I could use what I had asked for to get better-looking movements without losing flexibility. So I started programming tests, and realized it would take some tricky geometry.

The producer of 1776 promised to pay us for our performances. There were contracts and everything. I've put off receiving the payments for more than a month, because there was some sort of technical issue that I didn't understand with the taxes. I needed to do something, but I didn't understand what. Eventually my mother called our family's accountant, who sent us the form I'd need. I looked at the form and was overwhelmed by all the checkboxes and options. I didn't understand the Hebrew of half of it. My mother called our accountant and he walked me through filling it out.

Tonight I need to go to a rehearsal of Oklahoma, a musical which I've discovered that I dislike. It's in a place I haven't gotten to by bus before, off in the middle of nowhere in Jerusalem. No one can give me a ride there tonight. My mother called a friend of hers who's in the play. She gave some slightly vague instructions. I suppose when I get lost I can call Binder and have him direct me.

Tomorrow I have another rehearsal. (The play opens in two weeks.) The day after that is Tuesday, which is the day I promised Kyler I'd have his design in the prototype by. That means that I'll need to spend just about every spare minute working on the game, which is not something I intend to do. Tuesday is also Games Night.

I just got Rhythm Heaven, a marvelous little DS game which I love to pieces. It's more consistently excellent than its predecessor, the only-in-Japan Rhythm Tengoku. It's lots of little rhythm-based minigames, which you play by tapping and flicking with the stylus. It requires extremely precise timing, and I always feel like if I just play through a minigame a few more times I'll get it perfect.

愀 渀愀洀攀㴀∀挀漀洀洀攀渀琀猀∀㸀㰀⼀愀㸀਀

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Friday, May 08, 2009

The Complete Rules of Moneyloopy

A little while back Tamir and I (with some help from Coren) came up with a variant on Monopoly. None of us are particularly fond of Monopoly, but everyone seems to have it. So we wanted to change some rules to make the game better. Moneyloopy is based on the same ideas as Monopoly, and it uses the same pieces, but we've changed so many rules by this point that it's not quite Monopoly anymore. We think we've come up with a fun game, with more strategy and excitement than Monopoly.


Note: The following rules are written for the standard American Monopoly board.


There are two ways to win the game:
  1. When all other players have gone bankrupt and dropped out of the game, the last player to still have money is the winner.
  2. After each player left in the game has taken exactly 40 turns, the player with the greatest amount of money is the winner. At that point, any properties owned are worth $400.
Starting the game: All playing pieces start on GO. Each player receives only 1000 dollars (1 $500, 2 $100s, 2 $50s, 6 $20s, 5 $10s, 5 $5s and 5 $1s) to begin with. An extra token of some sort is chosen to be the turn marker; this should ideally not be one of the playing pieces, to prevent confusion. The turn marker is also placed on GO. The players each roll a single die; whoever gets the highest number goes first, and play continues clockwise.

The turn marker: Each time the last player has finished taking his turn, the turn marker is moved forward one spot on the board. (There are 40 spots on the board.) When the turn marker gets back to GO, the game ends immediately. Players get $400 for each property they own, and whoever has the most money wins.

Basic movement and looping: On his turn, a player rolls two dice and moves clockwise that number of spaces. When he lands on a particular spot, he must activate it unless he uses a SafeCard (see below). The three corners of the board -Just Visiting, Free Parking, and Go To Jail- are tollbooths priced $100, $200 and $300 respectively. If the player passes or lands on a tollbooth, he must either pay that toll to the bank or loop back to GO. If he pays or cancels (see "SafeCards" below) the toll, he continues his regular movement according to the dice. If he does not, then when he reaches the tollbooth he jumps back to GO (instead of stepping on the tollbooth) and continues the movement from there.

Example 1. If the player is on Tennessee Avenue and rolls an 8, he may either pay $200 to the bank and land on Atlantic Avenue, or loop back and land on Oriental Avenue.
Example 2. If the player lands directly on the third tollbooth (Go To Jail), he can either pay $300 and stay there or pay nothing and end his turn on GO. In either event, his turn is then concluded.

If a player ever passes the line separating Boardwalk from GO, he receives one thousand dollars from the bank.

Buying properties: There are 22 properties on the board. The railroads and utilities (Electric Company and Water Works) are not properties in Moneyloopy, but parts of the board. (Their functions will be explained below.) The market price of any property on the board is $300, regardless of what price is written underneath it. When a player lands on an unclaimed property, he may either buy it for market price or put it up for auction. Auctions begin at $100, and anyone (including the player who put it up for auction) may bid. When no one is willing to bid higher, the highest bidder buys the property from the bank. If no one wishes to pay $100, then the property is not bought by anyone. There is no maximum bid for a property.

When someone buys a property, he places the property's card in front of him so that everyone will know he is the owner. If a player lands on someone else's property, he must pay the owner rent as specified by the standard Monopoly card. If the owner has the entire monopoly (all cards of that color), then the rent without houses is doubled, and the owner may build houses.

Housing: Houses and hotels may be bought from the bank before (and only before) that player rolls the dice. A house on any property costs $100. Five houses are replaced with a hotel, which not only raises the rent significantly but also has other benefits which will be described below (see "SafeCards" and "Utilities"). Houses and hotels may only be bought if the player owns the entire monopoly, but if a player owns a spot with houses or a hotel without owning the monopoly the rent is still the price the card states for that number of houses. (This can happen through a trade/gift or because of one of the utilities.) Houses do not need to be placed evenly across the monopoly; whoever is buying the houses decides where they go. Once a hotel is built, no more houses may be built on that spot.

Houses and hotels are permanent. They may never be sold to the bank or moved to other spots, under any circumstances. No matter what happens to the property, the houses stay on it.

(There can never be a shortage of houses or hotels. If the pieces run out, something else should be used to signify houses or hotels.)

SafeCards: The thin cards (which in Monopoly would be from Community Chest or Chance) are always kept face-down. What is written on them never comes into play. However, these cards do have an important use. Face-down, they are called SafeCards. (
Blame Coren for the name. I had to make this concession to him in order to keep the name "Moneyloopy".) When a player lands on any Community Chest spot, he may (if he so chooses) pay $100 to the bank to buy a SafeCard, which he will hold on to along with his properties. SafeCards can get you out of dealing with any spot on the board except Luxury Tax or a property with a hotel. This includes tollbooths (even when passing them), Income Tax, an owned property with up to four houses on it, or even an unowned property. When a SafeCard is used, it is returned to the bank. A player may hold as many SafeCards as he likes, though only one can be bought at a time. If a player lands on Luxury Tax, he loses all his SafeCards. (If he has no SafeCards, he loses nothing.)

Chance: When a player lands on any Chance spot, he may if he so chooses play a game of chance. He places a bid of cash and/or SafeCards in the middle of the board, and rolls a single die. If he gets a 3 or lower, then he loses everything he bid to the bank. If he gets a 4 or higher, then he gets his bid back plus the same amount in cash and SafeCards from the bank. A player may not bid all his money, because a player without money is immediately out of the game. (See "Bankruptcy", below.)

Railroads: If a player lands on Reading Railroad, Pennsylvania Railroad or B&O Railroad, he may if he so chooses take the railroad to get to the next railroad spot on the board without paying a toll. To do this, he spends a turn in transit in the middle of the board. If he does not decide to take the train, then the railroad spot has no effect. But if he does, then he ends that turn by placing his playing piece in the middle of the board directly between the railroad station he is leaving and the railroad station he will be arriving at. In his next turn, he will not roll the dice. He may buy houses as always, then he places his piece on the next railroad spot (this spot will not be activated) and ends his turn.

Short Line operates differently. If a player lands on Short Line (and he chooses to use it) he immediately moves his playing piece to the very center of the board. On his next turn (after buying houses, if he wishes) that player chooses any spot on the entire board (with no exceptions), moves his playing piece to that spot and activates it on the same turn.
In addition, the player receives money from the bank to compensate for the fact that he will not get to pass GO and receive the usual $1,000. How much money he receives depends on where he is on the board:
  • If he jumps to a spot on the first section of the board (anywhere from GO to Connecticut Avenue), he receives $900.
  • If he jumps to the second section (Just Visiting to New York Avenue), he receives $600.
  • If he jumps to the third section (Free Parking to Marvin Gardens), he receives $300.
  • If he jumps to the fourth section (Go To Jail to Boardwalk), he receives no money, because he will still be passing GO.

Income Tax: If a player lands on Income Tax, he must either pay $200 to the bank or use a SafeCard to get out of it. Paying 10% of his money, as written on the board, is not an option. (
Actually, Wikipedia tells me that this change was made to the official Monopoly board last September.)

Utilities:
If a player lands on Water Works, he may if he so chooses sell any property he owns back to the bank for the inflated price of one thousand dollars. Only one property can be sold at a time. That property can then be bought again by any player who lands on it for the market price of $300 (or an auction), as before. A property can be sold which is part of a complete monopoly, and a property can be sold which has houses or a hotel on it. Houses and hotels do not change the market price; if that property is then bought, it comes with the houses and the rent is correspondingly high. Housing does not entitle the seller to any more than $1,000 for the property.

If a player lands on Electric Company, he may if he so chooses steal a property owned by any other player. Only one property can be stolen at a time. To steal a property without a hotel (even if it has houses), the player pays $600 to the bank. Stealing a property with a hotel costs $1,000.

(If a previously-complete monopoly is broken by any means, the owner can no longer build new houses. He also loses the double-rent privilege where there are no houses. However, he retains any houses which are already there and the corresponding rent prices.)


Trades, deals and gifts: At any point in the game, two players can discuss and/or carry out a deal. The progression of the game may be paused at any time for this purpose. Here is what cannot be changed in a deal:
  • The basic movement rules, including all die rolls.
  • The effects of any spaces on the board other than owned properties, such as Income Tax, tollbooths, GO, railroads and unowned properties.
  • Anything owned by, owed to, or owed by a player not agreeing to the deal.
  • No matter what deals are made, a property will always technically have just one "legal" owner.
  • The behavior of the bank.
  • The turn order and bankruptcy rules.
Everything else is fair game. Here are examples of valid deals:
  • Player A gives Boardwalk to Player B, in exchange for Virginia Avenue and $500.
  • Whenever Player A lands on Player B's property, the rent is half what it would otherwise be. In exchange, Player B agrees to cancel a previous deal.
  • Player A will never have to pay player B for landing on any spot with a hotel. In exchange, every time player A lands on a Community Chest he is obligated to buy a SafeCard and give it to player B.
  • Player A will not have to pay the $500 he owes Player B for landing on his spot right now. But as soon as the turn marker reaches Free Parking, he will have to pay him $1,000.
  • Player A may never pass the second tollbooth. In exchange, player B will wash the dishes.
  • Player A gives $150 to player B.
Once a deal has been made, it must be carried out. If the terms of the deal are open-ended, then it will continue until the end of the game unless both players agree to cancel it. (Technically, that is a new deal.)

Bankruptcy: When a player does not have even a single dollar in cash, he is declared bankrupt and is permanently out of the game. This happens when a player owes more money, either to the bank or to a player, than he has the cash to pay. He may try to make a deal to either cancel the immediate debt or get the money needed to pay it. Beyond that, there are no more options. Unlike Monopoly, in Moneyloopy properties may not be mortgaged and houses cannot be sold. So if a deal cannot be made, the player is finished. At that point, all his money goes to whoever is owed it, his SafeCards go back to the bank, and all properties are auctioned off. As with any auction, bidding starts at $100. If there are no bidders for a property, it goes to the bank.

7 Comments:

 Mory said:

I should point out that if you pay every dollar you have, even if you have just enough, you're technically bankrupt and out of the game. So for instance, if you have only 100 dollars in your hand you are not allowed to buy a SafeCard.

Believe it or not, that last dollar can be extremely important. Today, Eli and I played a 2-player game of Moneyloopy where I accidentally bought a property with all the extra money I didn't need for tolls. (I got it for just $150.) If I had bid even one dollar less, it would have been fine. But not having that dollar left in my hand meant I wasn't able to pay the toll. I would have been stuck looping around the first section until I landed on Income Tax and lost. Eli realized what I had done before I did, and greedily offered to buy one of my properties for 1 dollar. (I had paid around 200 dollars for it, if memory serves.) He later realized that this was a tactical mistake- that dollar allowed me to get around the board, and I actually won the game in the end.

 Mory said:

Oh, something else which wasn't quite spelled out: money is hidden.

Tamir said:

Hey, thanks for doing this! You saved me the effort, and did a better job than I would have done.

OpenID stone_ said:

Shortline seems over powered:

Besides the obvious move to the utilities, you can choose to live out the rest of the game on Shortline going back to itself, never paying anymore money out and just living off the income of properties you've already purchased. Maybe not a winning strategy... but strange.

Maybe it can send you anywhere for free, or you can pay $100 to have where you go activate too.

 Mory said:

"Besides the obvious move to the utilities, you can choose to live out the rest of the game on Shortline going back to itself, never paying anymore money out and just living off the income of properties you've already purchased. Maybe not a winning strategy... but strange."

I like strange. If you take the Short Line to Water Works, then continue around the board, that's $2000 earned. Staying in place can't possibly make as much for you, so I don't see a problem with it. I just like the idea of being able to wait in the middle of the board until the other player is low on cash, and then jump back in to get a dirt-cheap purchase.

As for the matter of being overpowered, well, yeah. That's kind of the idea. It's just one spot all the way around the board- you're paying $600 to get there, and there's no guarantee of landing on it. I know you don't like luck, but I do in this case.

Blogger Kyler said:

This sounds like a lot more fun than monopoly.


I will play it sometime.

 Mory said:

I've made a major change to the rules. Hopefully this is the last one that will be necessary. Instead of calling a winner after 40 turns through cash alone, each property is worth $400 at the end. We made this change because we found that the most effective strategy was just circling the board for the whole game and never buying any properties. Which does not make for a fun game, obviously. It doesn't seem like that tactic will work with this added rule.

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Oh, by the way…

That database-entry job? The whole medicine test-thingy was canceled. The work I did isn't going to be used for anything, and there's not going to be more of it. When I found out, I wasn't really annoyed, just amused. I wasn't doing it for the betterment of medicine or anything.

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Monday, April 27, 2009

Imagine, if you will…

Nonlinear long-form storytelling

The first episode to be aired on TV is entitled "The Finale", and it shows the huge and exciting climax to many storylines (as well as the final fate of all the characters). The viewer understands the general idea of the story (and it had better be a cool plot), but not the details. You know how sometimes you walk in on the end of something, and you don't really understand what's going on but it seems like something interesting enough to watch from the beginning? That's what this first episode is. And just for the sake of symmetry, the last episode of the entire series is entitled "The Pilot", setting everything up. So that feels like an epilogue, in the sense that it reinforces everything that the viewer already knows in a definitive sort of way. The rest of the show in between these two episodes is in a random order.

Each episode is an hour long, but the show is animated. (It's the only feasible way to pull this off, really.) Any episode, watched alone, is clear enough (and linear enough) in its storytelling that it can be a jumping-on point for the show. But the key to making the series work as a whole is that each episode feels like it's part of a big continuity. The characters are always dealing with the repercussions of events we don't know the specifics of, and many episodes feel like they've got to have major effects on what comes next. So an episode gets the viewer thinking about the bigger picture. The show is a big jigsaw puzzle which the viewer continues to assemble in his head from week to week.

But that's not why the viewer tunes in. He tunes in because every episode is a good story. You are surely familiar with half-hearted stories which exist mainly to get from point A to point B in serialized mediums. Those sorts of episodes exist in every show but this one. If point A is interesting, and point B is interesting, and the writers don't have anything particularly interesting planned in between, then point A and point B will each be episodes (Not necessarily in that order.) but the time in between will be skipped. Maybe somewhere down the line some writer will come up with some brilliant story which happens in between, so until that inspiration hits it's left blank. In general, that's how the show is written. There's no importance to the order the episodes are released in, except that that's the order the writers came up with the ideas in. An episode is only written if its writer really wants to tell that story. And it can take place at any point during the show's timeline- even before "The Pilot" or after "The Finale"! Further, an episode doesn't have an restrictions on how much time it covers. One episode might cover just a few pivotal minutes from many perspectives, and another might cover a single character's entire life! One writer could have a "pet" character which many of his stories focus on- the other writers back off of that character to some degree, to let him chart out the character's course.

No specific time frame is ever given for anything, so that the writers can say as many or as few stories as they like took place in a particular part of the timeline. So each episode written only creates more potential stories to be told, never less. In conventional shows, huge status quo changes are avoided because they prevent the writers from telling the stories they're used to. But here, the writers can always jump back to before the event. This encourages the writers to be more experimental with their plots.

There are many recurring characters, with new ones being introduced all the time. The premise of the show (whatever that is) lends itself to having some characters come and go all the time, on top of the core characters who are usually there. This allows tremendous flexibility in storytelling, not only because it doesn't lock the writers into using specific characters at whatever point in the timeline he's at, but also because it allows them to tell many stories not set in familiar locations.

The entire overall plotline of the show, in general terms subject to revision, is planned out before even the first episode is written. At the end of the day, the first episode needs to feel like it is the culmination of everything seen afterward. This keeps the writers somewhat focused, even as they tell their own little stories, because they always know exactly where they're heading in the long run. Not all the gaps need to be filled, of course. The viewer doesn't need to have it spelled out exactly what the context of "The Finale" is, because he's never going to get the entire picture. There will always be untold stories. But it should seem like the series is more than the sum of its parts. Writing the first episode is probably the hardest part.

1 Comment:

Blogger Nati said:

...I like linear shows.

Sorry. I'll go now.

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Tuesday, April 21, 2009

I love my cat.

Do you like cats?

No.

But they're so adorable and fluffy and cute!

..and evil. Don't forget evil.

Cats are not evil.

Evil, I tell you.

What has a cat ever done to you?

Nothing. A cat hasn't ever done something for me, either. They just sit around all day and only care about themselves.

Then you like dogs, then.

I don't know. Not really.

Oh?

Yeah, I don't like dogs.

You don't like any animals?

I like people. Do you like people?

Not so much.

What about your family? You must love your family.

Eh. I don't even enjoy spending time with them. There's no point of relationship.. that's the wrong word. I mean, I can't relate to them.

Like the Calvin and Hobbes strip. "Related to people I can't relate to."

Yeah, that's right.

That's sorta sad.

What about you? What's your family like?

How should I know? You invented me. You tell me if I have a family.

Oh, um. I didn't really think you through that much.

There you go.



That's a pretty lousy imagination, if you ask me. How hard is it to come up with a background?

You know why I love my cat? I love my cat because he jumps up on my lap and rolls over and just wants me to scratch his tummy, and if I do that he's happy. I can't make a person happy.

You're right about that. You didn't even give me a background, how am I supposed to be happy?

Oh, all right.

I'm like, the girl from nowhere. Dropped out of the sky, no connections to anyone. Oh, so tragic a figure am I.

Let's say you're from an alternate dimension where there's three genders.

Ooh, I like it.

So you've got fifteen-and-a-half siblings, and all of them are this third gender which is totally useless here on Earth.

What are their names?

You want names?

Yeah. The oldest is named Frog.

Frog.

Oh, Froggy. I loved her, I mean it, so much.

I thought you said you didn't like animals.

That's my sibling you're talking about!

Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to offend.

Yes! I am offended. I am devastated by your rudeness.

Right. So you've got three parents, and they hate you

They do not! They love me very much.

Oh, okay. If you want to be all mushy about it.

I insist.

So they sent you off to this dimension, um, because. Hm. The not-hating-you part really messes up your origin story.

Maybe I'm going to college here.

Sure, why not. So you miss them all very much, but every few days you jump right back in your little portal and you all stand around and sing songs and dance.

Okay, that's much too far with the mushiness.

Hey, don't discredit the songs and the dances. I hear your area has the greatest dances in any reality.

You know, I can't dance.

Hey, who's telling this story?

Ha ha! I can dance better than anyone.

Yep. The only source of tension in your family is all the jealousy at how well you dance.

Hmmm. I like that.

2 Comments:

Blogger Nati said:

Thought I might as well jump by and say hey.
This wasn't half-bad. I still can't say though that I understand your attraction to cats. It might be easy to make them happy, but why on earth would you want to?

I like dogs because they make me happy. I suppose that makes me a narcissist.

My serious thoughts, for what they're worth, are that nobody can make anybody (human) happy. You can make someone feel loved and respected, but happiness is something they have to proactively find themselves. It's what separates us from the cats.

In any case, I'm going to be here, making sure your posting is up to standard. Cheers.

 Mory said:

It makes me happy to make Pussywillow happy. So it all leads back to selfishness eventually. But I guess, on reflection, I don't really understand why it makes me happy to make him happy. It might be because I identify with his general laziness and mostly solitary nature. I can't be happy that easily, but I can settle for his happiness.

..or something.

It's good to have you around. Why didn't you tell me you'd started blogging?

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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Tapestry Thread: Rebellion Renewed

The Order of the Curve believed that all right angles were evil. Ariel barely made it out of their territory with his life. This series of events might have answered all his many questions: why he could never settle down comfortably, why he had found perfection, maybe even why I had invented such a strange little character. It might have, if he hadn't just then run into more people.
(Everything's so much more sensible without other people.)
And these people were all crying out in unison: "Appease! Appease!" So Ariel's theoretical moment of clarity was just barely out of reach, no closer than the thought of not being a character any more. None of these other nameless people ever had problems like he had. They didn't have to wander around forever serving others. What's so great about this name "Ariel" that he wouldn't rather not even be mentioned in these stories? "The people wanted this.", "The people worked for that.", "The people were happy.". Short stories which didn't single him out as a notable entity- how much easier that would be!

This is how I see the world: as a bunch of stories. I'm blind to details, but I find ideas knocking into each other and say: "This is the big picture!". I say it quite convinced that I know what I'm talking about. In writing the words "Tapestry Thread", I declare that if I were to just fit together enough ideas, I'd see what's real. It's just a matter of fitting everything together. But the perception of ideas is subjective. So maybe these posts say less about the world than they say about me. Maybe I can't know what happens next, because what I'd do in God's place isn't of much interest to God.

At the seder last week, my father asked why God had to bring the Jews to Egypt. And I answered (while struggling to find the words, as my conviction was stronger than my argument) that otherwise we wouldn't have the story to tell. Without Pessakh telling us where we'd been, we couldn't know who we were and where we were trying to get to. And if we hadn't been there, then we would be no one and we wouldn't be trying to get anywhere. We were slaves. That's our story. One of us thought he could fit into the Egyptian hierarchy, and we ended up doing their work for them. We're not supposed to fit in. We tell the story every year, and we're supposed to believe as we say it that we ourselves got out of Egypt. Because for the rest of the year, we're still there.

We were in a land that wasn't ours. Well, we still are. Just, the concept of "land" is totally different now. Israel is ours, sure. But we only got Israel when the world was starting to become one land, when globalization was starting to make the actual borders a moot point. In this new age, we're all living in the same gray "land", with the same laws and ideas. And that's not ours. So each year, we need to remind ourselves what our place is. We're not nameless members of the human race, we're a character in our own right. We're Jews! We have the right and the obligation to be Jews!

Now, take Lieberman. I'm really glad I voted for him. Fifteen minutes after he was officially declared our foreign minister, he was already standing up to the world. Our policy of appeasement is only going to lead to our own destruction, and he knows it, and he doesn't care if the entire world hates him for it! So I don't care if he is a scumbag politician- that's the kind of Jew I can root for.

I don't know if I can be so proud of myself, though. As an actor, suddenly I'm doing what I'm told. The reason I can find for those oppressive rehearsals is that I can direct that frustration toward being more rebellious in other areas. An identity is something I'm going to have to continually find in myself, it's not something that's otherwise there.

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Sunday, April 05, 2009

Different Approaches to Directing

1776 ended its run on Thursday. Thirteen performances, and I kept getting better the whole time. I kept adding in little touches all over the place, which I'd remember afterward and repeat in subsequent performances. By the final performance (to a large audience), the other actors were complimenting me on how I played one of the scenes. Which is not to say I was totally satisfied- I could still have been much better. But it's time to walk away.

Now I'm free to be part of Oklahoma. As of the end of 1776, they'd been rehearsing for over two months and I'd been to exactly one of those rehearsals. I told Binder (the producer/director) as soon as he sent out the schedule that almost all the dates coincided with performances (or rehearsals) of 1776*-------
(It's not all the rehearsals which were scheduled badly- just the ones for the male chorus members. If I'd been a lead, I think there'd be less of a problem.)
. I said to him, "This is going to be a problem.". To which he responded: "I suggest that you attend those rehearsals that you can and fill in what you've missed after your other show." Well, he's not quite as calm about it now that he understands just how many rehearsals we had to miss. (I'm not the only one from 1776 in the cast.) As a matter of fact, he's rather furious -though he covers it with a very diplomatic attitude.

Let me tell you something about Binder. He knows exactly what he wants from every person on stage at every moment. In the rehearsals, he says to random people, "You stand there, you're doing this, you say this.". And then we're expected to do that and move on. (None of us lowly chorus members have scripts, which would aid us in understanding the context.) I have no doubt that the end result will be very professional and impressive. But, y'know. It's not any fun for me.

Another problem I have is that the cast of Oklahoma is so ridiculously huge (more than fifty people) that half the time I'm just trying not to get trampled upon. I hate crowds.

1776 had many speaking parts (They were all speaking parts.), but no extras. And we all had fun.

Let me tell you something about Batsheva, the director of 1776. All she cares about is the realness of the performances. We started out just saying the lines to each other, rather than putting any kind of "acting" into them, so that we could internalize what we were saying and exactly why we were saying them. Once we knew the lines, not so much by heart as by understanding, she'd give us general ideas about who our characters were supposed to be. -------
He's a respectable man … he's seen every kind of person before … you're being too rude.
Batsheva really didn't have any idea what the end result ought to look like. But she trusted that if we understood the characters, we'd figure it out. And we did. We didn't deliver a flawless rendition of the script, but most of us got to the essence of the characters and gave our audiences a great show.

Oklahoma isn't the same kind of acting experience. There's no creativity or self-expression involved, there's no exploring possibilities. It's just doing what Binder says efficiently. One fellow cast member who quit the show to join another one summed it up quite well: "It feels like you're a cog in the machine." For me, it's all just an exercise in hitting my cues. So I get the sense that there are many opportunities for me to screw up (Some of which I have already discovered, to my shame.), but no opportunity to excel.

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Monday, March 30, 2009

That's better.

The trouble was, I was cutting corners.

So I went back and did the coding like it ought to have been done the first time. And now I've got a pretty good prototype.

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Monday, March 16, 2009

God damn it.

I spent hours working. And yes, I finished a prototype. And if this is the best I can do, I do not deserve to exist.

God damn it!




I've been having a nightmare lately about Tetris. In it, I realize that the blocks that disappear don't really disappear. They come back as soon as you make another line. You know what, these words don't really explain the nightmare. I've been going over it in my head, trying to figure out what the rules of the game are. And though I feel certain that they could make sense, I'm not certain that I'm capable of making sense of them. But the feeling it makes- the feeling is that it really ought to be possible to clear away those lines, except that rationally there is no conceivable way to win the game and it keeps on going forever. I'm not quite sure that conveys it. Like I said, these are just words. That nightmare was the most scared I have ever been at least since I was a little kid. I only had it once while I was asleep, but after that I've been feeling its presence when I'm awake. The blocks never go away. God help me, they never go away. I don't even understand what that means, and it has me so scared, like there's no point in living if those are the rules of the game.

Anyway. The feeling of that nightmare is the feeling I have right now. I woke up this morning thinking that I, as a creature, have some value in this universe. And then I made this prototype, this horrendous piece-of-shit monstrosity, and now I don't think that's true. I don't think

I want my Game Over already. Is there some way to

God damn it.

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Sunday, March 15, 2009

This is just stupid. I wanted to build up this whole crescendo where on the one hand I'd have blank spaces that got more and more imaginative while their content got more and more detached from reality, and on the other hand I'd have "ordinary" posts which got grayer and grayer and chronicled my adjustment into productivity. But here's the thing: I'm not getting more imaginative, and I'm not getting more productive, and this thing which was supposed to be this beautiful bit of art turned out to be.. uh… a waste of time, is what it is.

So let's forget all this nonsense of where I think my blog is going. Down to business.

Tomorrow, 15 March, is wide open for work. I've got no 1776 performances, I've got no Oklahoma rehearsals, I've got no obligations of any kind. So let's set a goal, shall we?

This blog hereby formally declares the following goal:

Thank you, blog. [ahem] By the end of the day, which by my schedule is 2:30 AM on 16 March, I will have a working prototype of the most basic movement of The March of Bulk.



Interesting, how he seems to be going against the artificialities which made his blog unique in the first place. I would normally expect some sort of essay here to analyze the situation, though in this particular case I guess that would be inappropriate.
Who cares about that?
Speech, speech!
Oh! How simple-minded of me. I should have realized- our conversation is here to serve that purpose!
Strange.
What?
Well, if the point was to stop focusing on style so much and focus more on the work, which, by the way, is a good idea. The interesting part of the blog is when he moves toward where he ended up. The rest is fluff.
I like the interactive bits.
That's fluff too.
It is not!
Why are we arguing about this?
Because you're wrong.

You know, I think I understand it.
Understand what?
It's not that this bit serves any purpose at all, it's just that he can't help himself.
You've lost me.
I just mean, even in places where it's absolutely ridiculous to stick in fluff, he can't help himself. He just has to babble on. I mean, in this place here it would make so much more sense if he were just silent, you see what I'm saying? If he just shut up for a minute after declaring the goal. It would fit better.


[sip]

No, I don't see that.
You wouldn't, would you.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

And when it is done you can send me the prototype.

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Wednesday, March 11, 2009

I exist. No, really.

I've been mildly depressed lately. This may have to do with me being sick, or my general feeling of uselessness, or some combination of that. Or maybe it's a chemical reaction to all the medicine I've been taking.

My body picked a really terrible time to turn sick. I've had lots of performances of 1776, and I'd been told to be louder even before that. Now, walking onto stage with slight dizziness is no big deal. But walking onto stage with a hurting throat- that's scary. So I've got the third-least important role in the entire play, and I was worried about whether or not I'd be able to pull it off.

I did, which surprisingly didn't make me feel much better.

It was Purim yesterday, which meant I read the Megillah again. I don't feel like sticking in a link; just trust me that I've talked about Megillah-reading on this blog before. My throat wasn't fully healed yet, but it was well enough to do all the voices and entertain the congregation.

Surprisingly, I didn't feel much better after that.

Or maybe it's not surprising at all. This acting stuff, that's just a side dish. Where's the main course? Where's the game?

The ugly truth is, I haven't been working on it. I have no valid excuses, I just haven't. I haven't thrown up a hundred "No work done." posts, because I want to figure out a way to work without the blog. The blog's not going to be here forever, so relying so much on it seems unhealthy. Not that the nothing I've been doing is healthy in any way.

I think I need a calendar, where I write what I did every day. That might work.

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I'm supposed to be doing something.
This is supposed to be a major post, not.. not this.
It's not just me that's counting on me, Kyler's involved with the game..
I have no motivation to do anything other than curl up in a little ball and close my eyes.

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Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Delayed, but successful

Previously in IM≠:
Please Insert Change
For my birthday, I didn't want food or even to leave the house. What I wanted was, for a whole day on 21 February, to sit at home and play multiplayer games.
The birthday thing worked pretty well last year, so I tried it again this year. Again I invited six friends: Harel, Avri, Eliav, Nati, Moshe and Tamir. I didn't bother inviting my family this time; I like to think I've learned from some of my mistakes.


My actual birthday, 21 February, was Shabbat. I went over to the Feldmans to ask Tamir what he thought of the first episode of Joss Whedon's new show Dollhouse (I thought it was fascinating.) and tell him how Alias ended. I always talk to him about Alias because I know nobody cares and Tamir's the only person I know with such a quiet personality that he'd never tell me he's not interested. But it didn't matter- Tamir wasn't home. So I played a variant of Monopoly we made up (called Moneyloopy) together with Eliav and Coren and a girl who was staying by them. It was fun. Oh, and first I talked to Harel. I don't remember what we talked about, though I probably enjoyed the conversation at the time. Most likely something involving comics or computers or science-fiction TV shows. I asked him whether Monday might be a good day for him to come over, and he said it would. Then I went to Avri's house to wait for Eli and Coren to get back from Aviv, and there were a bunch of guys over at Avri's house playing Tigris & Euphrates, so I watched their game. It went in some wacky directions. Anyway, I told both Avri and Eli to come on Monday, and they both said they would. During the day I went over to Nati's house and we talked about Fight Club, because I'd just watched that for the first time, and I told him to come on Monday and he said he would. On Sunday I called Moshe to let him know about the next day and see if he was free (He said he was.), and talked with Tamir to tell him to come and while I was at it briefly ask him about Dollhouse and tell him my personal hunch about where it's going. (I think Caroline was trying to bring down the Dollhouse from the inside.)

I bought Tetris Party for WiiWare. 12 bucks, which is awfully expensive for such a small game, but I figured four-player Tetris would be fun. Then I went to a neighbor's to borrow a Wii remote, because I only have three. And I cleaned up the room a little, so there'd be somewhere to sit.

On Tuesday I woke up at 12:00, had lunch (I didn't want to have to eat while there were people there, so I didn't wait until 2:00 or 3:00 like I usually do.), and started messing around on the piano to pass the time. No one knocked on the door, so I started playing Tetris over the internet. I played for around an hour, I think. I browsed the web, noticed some people had finally played my game (Yay!), and seemed to be enjoying it, went back to the piano, played a little Art Style: Rotohex on Sprint mode, and kept waiting. Finally I sent an instant message to Eliav, who said he'd just gotten home from somewhere or other but would be over soon. I told him to bring a Game Boy or two if he could, so that we could play Four Swords Adventures. He came over a little later (around 3:00) with an old GBA, we picked a random level and we were off. Four Swords Adventures is so much fun, though of course it's better with three players.

Tamir came over maybe 45 minutes in. He watched us playing, then (when I won the level) I handed over my GBA SP so that he could play a level with Eli. They played one of the first levels of the game, so that Tamir wouldn't be in too far over his head. I think we all enjoyed it, though I'm not sure Tamir got past his initial awkwardness with the controls. (He insists a keyboard and mouse is the best input for a game, which is of course ridiculous!) I think it's best played regularly, from start to finish. Then we played a little three-player Tetris, which neither of them were particularly interested in so we left quickly. (I didn't understand that we could play without a computer player, which made it much more awkward than it should have been.) With Eli's permission, I played a two-player game of Rotohex with Tamir, which we completed. And then Eli wanted to wait and watch the credits before moving on, which I don't think Tamir particularly cared for. They are really cool, though. Then a little Maboshi's Arcade, and finally three games of Pac-Man Vs., which Tamir particularly enjoyed. Actually, we all enjoyed that. Tamir commented that whoever designed it was a genius, which of course he is. (That person being Miyamoto.) And then Tamir left, off to study for some tests. Eli was sticking around, so we played a little Super Mario Galaxy, and I think I pushed him to bite off more than he could chew by jumping to the really challenging levels. Sure, they're the most fun levels in the game. But if you don't make it through, they're frustrating. Eli got a Game Over (What an antiquated notion!) and we switched games. I suggested Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat, which it didn't occur to me until a little later was from the same exact team and following very similar design principles. And once again I got him into one of the hardest levels of the game, not remembering that the second half of the level was a bit tedious compared with the brilliant first half. Eli got a Game Over (which doesn't come easily in DK!) and left with the Alias discs.

So I waited around for a few hours. I quickly gobbled down some supper, so that I wouldn't be in the middle of eating when whoever came came. I was sure Harel would knock on the door any minute, or Nati, or Avri, or Moshe. Okay, well maybe not Moshe. You can't rely on him for anything. Anyway, I waited around, improvising on the piano and whatnot. Eventually I started a game of Art Style: Orbient from the beginning, and got as far as around level 18 or thereabouts (having amassed around 60 lives, the silly things) before shutting it off. I waited for a long time, and then Avri came a-knocking.

He'd expressed an interest in World of Goo (Check the comments to the last real post.), so at once I showed him one of the cleverest bits of humor in the game. He explained that he'd already played through the PC demo of the game, so he knew all the basics quite well. But he didn't know that gag, and it was a really good gag, so I showed it to him. He got a bit antsy at the cutscene at the end, but otherwise he enjoyed it. Anyway, then we played Tetris. And it turns out he loves Tetris. We played it over and over and over, each time we finished jumping right back in for a rematch. He was really out of practice, having not played multiplayer Tetris in probably a decade or so, but he kept getting better until eventually he started putting up a good fight. Then I showed him (for his amusement and/or disbelief) some of the silly minigames included in the game. And then we switched to Maboshi's Arcade, which I don't really understand too well yet from a gamistic perspective but wanted him to see because it's just so darned weird. I think that's when we called it a night.

We went out and talked about the comics I'd been lending him, and then he went home.

I went back on the web and saw that a few more people had played my game, and were speaking very positively of it. Oh, and that's in addition to Deirdra Kiai, who on 21 February said it "spoke to her", and it was exciting to hear from her because I'd thought she might understand where I was coming from. But there were other people, on the two other forums I posted it on, both reactions positive.

Don't you care what I think?

You're imaginary. So not really, no.

Fine, then I won't tell you.

Okay. So anyway, that brings the count of people who've played my game through and actually enjoyed it to at least eight. And sure, it took a while. But y'know. I wanted to engage people, I did that. It could have engaged more people quicker, but what really matters is that it worked.

Anyway, I've gotten into a whole big huge digression here. I was talking about my birthday celebration. 3 out of 6 people came. I figure Nati forgot, Harel was busy and Moshe was oblivious to the world's existence. Which is fine, I guess. I can't speak for everyone who was there, but I think we had fun.

2 Comments:

OpenID stone_ said:

Eh, the reason I got antsy is b/c I'm a bad person and I'd already seen the cutscene... I knew I probably wouldn't end up actually buying the game, but I really wanted to know how the plot played out... so I watched the cutscenes on youtube. I am so ashamed.

And I didn't just put up a good fight in tetris, I was beating you more often than not by the end!

 Mory said:

Sure you were. Sure.

You really should buy World of Goo. The fun isn't in the cutscenes, it's in the levels. And you can't get that from YouTube.

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21 Now

It don't mean nothin'.


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Wednesday, February 18, 2009

1776

We've had three performances of 1776 so far. The first two were in Beit Shemesh, the third was in Jerusalem yesterday. It's hard to believe there will be eleven more.

We're doing well. We started out with an audience of around twenty people, but as more people see the show the word of mouth is growing. By the time we end we'll have packed theaters. I was a bit concerned over how the show would be received by audiences, considering how little time we've had to prepare. But they've always seemed to love our work.

For myself, I don't feel I've been doing the best job I could be doing. For one thing, I'm supposed to be speaking louder, since I don't have a microphone and the people I'm talking to do. But also, I think I haven't been giving a clear enough performance. I'm not enunciating like I should, and the drama is a little bit lost the way I did it last time. I think my performance in the second one was better, though everyone else made more mistakes there so it was a weaker show overall. The audience loved that one too, though. They never know how it's supposed to be.

But I do. I'll do better next time.

3 Comments:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Happy Birthday!

Btw, have you tried out World of Goo?

 Mory said:

I have World of Goo. If you come over when there aren't other people here, I'll show you. It's a fantastic game.

 Mory said:

Speaking of which, there's no one here now. Now would be good.

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Who cares about all that?
Tell me about the games you're going to make!



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Monday, February 09, 2009

Politics

The national elections are tomorrow, and I'm still not entirely sure who I'm voting for.

It goes without saying that they're all scum, that no politician is to be trusted.

So the question is, which scum do I prefer?

I strongly dislike the Likud party. That it's looking like it'll be the biggest party is reason enough (I'd be very uncomfortable voting for who everyone else is voting for.), but there's more than that. It seems like their members can't agree on anything; it's a bunch of people who came together because they wanted to be in the biggest party, not because they share any ideological principles.

The second biggest party is Kadima, and Kadima winning is a worst-case scenario. Our last two prime ministers were in Kadima, and they were both disastrous. Kadima is farther to the left than Likud, and even less idealistic than Likud. That so many people are going to vote for them is a sad comment on the state of our political landscape.

The third biggest party is Yisra'el Beiteinu, which is more right-wing than Likud if maybe not quite as right-wing as I'd like. I don't know that much about them, but I agree with their positions- especially that giving the Palestinians land isn't going to get them to stop killing us. So I'm leaning heavily toward voting Yisra'el Beiteinu.

(I'd vote for a smaller party, such as National Union, but I don't agree with any of the smaller parties' platforms as much as Yisra'el Beiteinu's.)

What got me questioning my decision was what Marc said. Marc is our Franklin in 1776, and he was really angry when I said I'd vote for Yisra'el Beiteinu. He said to me that if I didn't vote for Likud, I'd be making it more likely that Kadima would win and their pathetic leader, Limor Livnat, would be our next prime minister. After making a few weak rationalizations (I really don't understand politics any better than that.), I insisted that Likud would win no matter what I voted for. He said the polls made it look very close.

I saw the poll in the newspaper this morning. And he was right- it is close. Much too close. Could Kadima really win this election? My mother says that I shouldn't pay attention to the polls, because they're never accurate. But what if it is? What if voting for the party I prefer ends up getting us the party I despise the most?

Previously in IM≠:
Democracy of Morons (21/3/2006)
It seems that the only reason to vote for Likud is that Likud's not Kadima. And while I see the importance of not allowing Kadima to get far, that's not much of a platform to stand on. What's to guarantee that Likud won't choose to go farther left, if the "political realities" force them?
Hm. I think I was right. I think I'll vote for Yisra'el Beiteinu.

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It seems like posts should be self-contained.
When you're done, that's it.

No work done!

But no.
One post goes right into the next.
There is no single post; there is only the continuous blog.


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Saturday, January 31, 2009

The Perfect Color

The Perfect Color
A strategy game by Mordechai Buckman
with graphics by Kyler Kelly


Comment on what you think of it, because I'm genuinely curious.
What do you think the message of the game is?
Do you agree with what I'm saying?


Disclaimer: This game may be very difficult for the colorblind.

1 Comment:

Blogger John Silver said:

Mory, I just played through this and I think this is friggin' phenomenal! It was a delightfully inventive little thing to play and the ending really resonated.

I was fooling around a bit initially until people started 'messing up' my creation and turning it towards grey. Then I tried creating a triangle with the three primary colours, and I was hoping to make the rest of the colour scale from there. Hopefully that way I could have appeased everybody, though dividing them spatially into 'factions'.

I don't know what the intended message was - I think this lends itself to a multiplicity of readings and I don't necessarily believe in crystallising these into any given one (including the author's). That would probably mean making the colour of the interpretation 'grey' rather than letting it be my own! :D

However I did get a sense that it took a strong stand against homogenization - aka best to express yourself individually regardless of pleasing others, because otherwise you'll add nothing of your own to the mix.

Anyway, great work! A serious thumbs up on my side.

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Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You're actually doing some stuff, which is, y'know, progress. And why do you care what some theoretical girl thinks- she seems like a real bitch anyways!
Are you still here? Get out of here already, the blog's not for you.

What the hell, man? This is supposed to be a short post, not another one of your endless dialogues! And now you have to show up, and make this into a big deal! I'm just giving you some advice, some friendly advice here, man to man, and you have to turn this into a whole argument!

Sorry. You can keep going.

Nah, I'm done.

It was supposed to be short, man. It's your blog, you ought to know how it works..

Sorry.


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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Nightmare Scenario

I'll leave the room, because if I'm there it might not be an honest reaction and I'll need the honest reaction. And then I'll pace around in the hall a little, running through all the ways the conversation could go.
What is it specifically you don't like about the character?
Was it hard to understand what I was doing with the interface?
Thanks, I am really proud of this.
But y'know, it's still only the beginning of the game.
You haven't seen the good stuff yet.
Is that really what you think?
You're not just telling me what I want to hear, right?
It'll be silly, worrying so much when it's still just the first scene. I'll imagine the game playing out in my head, trying to guess reactions. Now that it's too late, I'll realize a few ways to misinterpret what's going on that I'd never thought of before. Not that there could have been any way to get around those. A few times I'll suppress the urge to walk back in. Don't look desperate. Don't look desperate. I'll try doing other things, but my mind'll be back in that room. Nothing else will seem to matter.

I'll leave the house, wander around scared, hide in a corner, find that I don't feel any more safe in that corner, go back, eat some junk food, and go back to pacing. No, not pacing. Stop pacing. When she comes out, she shouldn't see you pacing. It's not important, no pressure. (By this point I'll be sweating.) No pressure.

So? What do you think?

It's nice.
What does that mean? Did you like it?

Yeah, I'm really impressed.
"Nice" can mean a lot of things.

Can it?
You know you can tell me if you hate it.

But I liked it.
Were there any specific things you liked about it?

What is this, an interrogation? I like your game, okay?
Look, I need to know what you thought more specifically. You understand.

No, I don't. What do you want from me?
Please, just tell me what you thought!



I'm sorry. It's just, I really need to know that my wife-
I just need to know your honest opinion.

I'm always honest!
I know.

But if you're going to be all annoying about it, I guess I thought it was sort of…
What?
pretentious
simplistic
boring
hard to follow
predictable
weird
rip-off
bombastic
subdued
incomprehensible
easy
silly
recherché
ugly
misguided
noninteractive
unrelatable
mundane
geeky
pointless
rushed
slow
uninteresting
bad
reinventing the wheel
off-putting
frustrating
repetitious
random
science-fiction-y
complicated
confusing
convoluted
inaccessible
obvious
lacking in drama
formulaic
old-fashioned
meandering
unintelligent
not meeting its potential
amateurish
nonsensical
unsatisfying
childish
unsubtle
repetitious
..I dunno. Maybe it's just not for me.
Is it the tone of it? Too realistic?Maybe it's too realistic.

Realistic? It has a shape-shifting spy.
But did you think he was treated too much like a normal person?

No, I think that if he were a real person he wouldn't be interesting at all. Nothing happens with him.
But I was trying to treat him like a real person. All the buttons that pop up are things which I think he'd do if he were a real person. And I was trying to make it feel like a real person going about his day in the beginning part, so that you get the juxtaposition between the banality which you might recognize from real life and the weird science-fiction thriller plot of it. Did that not come across?

Is that why nothing happens?
He's sabotaging a high-tech weapon that could be used against his country! There's all the tension of almost being caught, and then the whole thing of trying to get out of the country after his DNA's been targeted! There are people trying to kill him!
The whole world order falling apart is "nothing"?! Having to get away from a biological weapon that's targeted your DNA is "nothing"?!
That's like an hour in! Before that you have to put up with all the talking! "Blah blah blah", they just talk and talk..
Well of course there's talking! I need to do that to set up what's going on! It's a complicated story, it's not just "he stops the weapon, he saves the world". The whole global political landscape is falling apart, where
Enough already.
all these countries and their old ways of doing things are proving to be obsolete when these new
Stop talking!


Sorry. It's just, I thought you'd like it.

No, you thought I'd love it. Well, I don't. Get over it already.
I don't see why not. You like science fiction stories. And you liked Next Door!

That was different. That was short. This just goes on and on and on.

Indignation
So you thought the pace was too slow?

No, I thought it wasn't as interesting as you seem to think it is.
So you thought it was spending too much time on people who were ordinary.

Yes! They're all so boring, just like ordinary people having boring little conversations that no one could care about anyway because it's all so boring! And you want me to play an entire game made up of things like this?!
Yeah, and what would you have preferred- big over-the-top caricatures?

Yes, actually. They would have been interesting.
But that's how people actually are!

If I want to be with ordinary, boring people, I'll live real life. Like how I'm talking to you right now, and you're boring and ordinary. But if you give me a science-fiction game, like this, I don't want ordinary people. I can get that without the science-fiction story, just from real life!
So all the effort I put in to make these characters seem real, there's no way I could possibly have interested you with that.

Probably not.

Counter-argument
If you were really enjoying it, why would you mind it continuing?

Maybe I can only take so much of it.
Or maybe it is, and you just didn't give it a fair chance.
Now you sound like you absolutely hated it.
Wow, you really hated it, didn't you?

You know what? You're right. I hate your game, it's the worst thing ever made, it's slow and annoying and stupid. Now leave me alone.
God! Can't I talk to you without you going into this hostility and sarcasm?!

No, I guess you can't. So stop bothering me.
You never told me you didn't like the dynamic interface!

Is it the interface that bothers you? You know that dynamic interfaces are sort of a new-
Oh, I don't care about your silly "dynamic interface".
It's not silly!

Sure it isn't.

Persist

Change topics
It's a valid design choice!

Leave me alone.
What's wrong with it?

Ha. What's right with it.
Now you're just being annoying.

Well, so are you.


Look, I'm sorry. I just want to know-
No, listen. It's a good game. Really. Very nice. But I'm not going to say it's, like, the best game I ever played, because it's not. It's not that good. Now leave me alone.
Fine, forget the interface. What about the story?

What about it?

Go fishing

Assume the worst
It's a good story!
No, it's a great story! I've been planning this for twenty years! It's about real emotions; maybe that's something you wouldn't know anything about!
You didn't think it was thought-provoking at all? You didn't think Michael was an interesting character? Do you not care about the whole social thing, where everything's falling apart because of the new technologies?
Okay, calm down, will you? It's fine, okay? Your game is fine.

Keep going

Give in

Change topics
Did you not like the way I tell the story, where you jump in in the middle and are figuring out what's going on? I guess I could have put in-
Shut up!

Enough already. It's fine. Your game is absolutely perfect, and there's no way anyone could ever possibly think it's anything but the best thing they've ever seen in their lives. Is that what you want to hear? Eh?


I'm going to go read a book now.
Okay. Fine. I'm sorry for being annoying.

You should be.
Do you not like Michael Nolan as a character? Too hard to relate to?

I don't know. He's fine, it's all fine. What difference does it make if I don't like it?

Ha!
So you admit you don't like it!

Fine! I don't like it. Are you happy now?
Happy? Happy? How could I possibly be happy? I've been working on this story for twenty years!Don't you understand how much I care about this game?

Well, I don't know what you want from me. You can't force me to like this.
It does make a difference! Your opinion means everything to me!

Then let me have an opinion, and stop trying to get me to agree with you!


..so what is your opinion, exactly?

I'm going to read a book now.


I'll sit down at the grand piano. And I'll sit, and sit, inspiration never coming. I'll finally press a note, but why that note? That note isn't anything special.

3 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

Very enjoyable game/post/story. I really enjoy how it is like a blog post that gets written as I play through it. I get choices, yet I am simply pushing the character in a directions.

This post triggered an idea in my head. I have been watching animations such as this Mad as Hell.

This "kinetic typography" idea has become a standard exercise for motion graphic students, and I questions whether or not it actually adds anything to the dialogue. But I'm getting the idea that such manipulation of typography could be an interesting way to make a larger interactive text experience.

Now that I look over your post here again, I see that you are already exploring the typographical possibilities that are within the limits of a blog post. I guess all I am suggesting is that there might be a way or making a bigger experience, yet still only working within the realm of type.

Blogger Kyler said:

My link didn't work. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNxoLJy3m3s

 Mory said:

That video is fantastic. I've had the movie Network on my to-watch list for months now; it looks exactly like the sort of movie I'd really like. I'd really like to see some sort of text adventure following similar principles to this "kinetic typography" thing.

Wow. a kinetic-typographical text adventure. Now that would be something to behold. You'd have worlds rendered in 3D out of statements of fact, objects placed around the room which aren't really objects at all but descriptions of the objects. A vivid world built out of your own imagination, where the movement of words across the screen creates a gentle framework for that imagination. The input would keep changing location to be more aesthetically pleasing, and its function might change every now and then. Now that's a game I want to play!

I had the idea of making a blog follow similar design principles around the time of this post, which does not do any of that but is as close as I'm going to get here. The reason it doesn't play with typography is because when I tried, I found it was not possible. Writing in standard computer text is like how it must have been playing a harpsichord before the invention of the pianoforte, back when a note would always be the same volume regardless of how you pressed it. I wrote out a whole version of that post which used subtle changes in size and boldness for dramatic effect, and when I clicked "Preview" I found that none of it was making its way through to the browser. There are a limited number of distinct font sizes, and boldness can only be on or off even though CSS accepts numerical values of boldness. So I gave up at once, and that's that.

I'm quite sure that there's more potential to blogging with more visual elements, but the current standards just don't allow for it. Maybe a Flash-based site, but I hate Flash-based sites. They're so darn slow.

I'm not sure what typographical opportunities you think I have in this particular post. "Ooh, look, I can have several fonts!" is about the extent of it, which I've been doing since 2005. I would absolutely like to do more, and I always have wanted to, but there's only so much that's possible without rebuilding the foundation. (Which is not to say, of course, that I don't have a few more tricks up my sleeve. I just haven't seen a good excuse to use them yet.)

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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

So simple an idea…

I was at Mikki's bar mitzvah for Shabbat, and it was the boring part where all the ordinary adults were talking among themselves. That's always the best time for coming up with ideas, because my brain hasn't got anything better to be doing. A few kharedis at the table were talking about society. As someone got up to make what was sure to be a lengthy speech, I excused myself from the room and began pacing outside.

A blog post was forming in my head:

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

The idea

Yardena and I were in Beit Shemesh for the holiday, trying to relax on two beds unsuccessfully put together in my childhood room, when I thought of Brahms' Lullaby, and how much fun it would be in an upbeat samba style. And an album began to snap into place...

Tending Toward Gray

Whatever makes one person happy will make another person unhappy, and vice versa. Therefore, a society built on diversity and compromise will tend toward neutrality, not making anyone unhappy but also not making anyone happy. That society would have no identity, and no one would care about it. A society with restrictions and strong convictions is a society with character; that would be a society worth having.
And then I thought, no one's going to agree with me on that point. So why not use a friendly metaphor to illustrate the concept? Show what happens when you mix lots of random colors together. A little Flash animation (granted, I'd have to learn Flash) which takes random colors and combines them all. The longer you keep this program going, the more gray and boring the mix of colors gets.

And then I thought, that's not quite clear enough. There need to be buttons to impose filters on the colors that go through. That way, you see that if you've got convictions, if you know what it is that you want, you get something pretty. And if you shut off those filters, if you don't know what you want, then you'll reach the natural neutrality.

And then I thought, well, you're still not seeing how this affects people. There's more to a society than just the politician. Without people who will be happy or unhappy, the metaphor's still incomplete.

(The speech inside was very long.)

And then I thought, wouldn't this be more engaging and thought-provoking if it were more interactive? Why not make a whole game out of it? I'd intended to go straight into "The March of Bulk", but I could finish a game that simple in a month or two and then jump back to the plan. Simple little stick figures for people with simple little smilie faces for opinions.

And then I thought, well, this feature should be in it. And how should I present that? And maybe it'll need a bit more interactivity there, and maybe there are people trying to do your job for you so that you see the direction society's headed in without your intervention. And the more I thought, the more I started seeing that this was a metaphor which could be applied to just about anything- not just politics and society and religion, but art and child-raising and especially videogames with their gray graphics and multitudes of disconnected gameplays. This was so much bigger than a blog post; this was a commentary on the importance of vision and convictions in the world!

And the more I thought, the bigger this idea became. If I hadn't just then noticed a guy standing behind a tree, my idea might have grown to the size of the moon!

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Argh. Yes, that's all I have to say.


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Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Next Door to Opportunity

I tried out for Oklahoma, because my role in 1776 was so disappointing. I went to the auditions and -since I didn't know anything about the play- wrote I was interested in the part of "Random cast member in chorus #15". Which I was. I just wanted to be able to sing, like the good old days. I auditioned with my own song, wringing all the emotion out of it, and I must have impressed them to some extent because they gave me some lines to read. It was a character called Jud. Interesting lines. They were all in this really really thick accent, and the content was funny too. They were talking about how Jud should die, because then some women might notice him. I did a good reading of it, on the spot. (No preparation time.) They also had me dance. That didn't go too well.

The next day, I received an e-mail saying that they were calling me back. I didn't expect that- I thought either I'd be in or out, and that'd be it. But no- they sent the script to look over, and told me to specifically read the parts with Jud, and that I should come to the producer's house on Tuesday to see if I was as good as whoever else they were considering for the part.

I looked over the script, and holy cow Jud's a good part. Mentally unstable, desperate for love but never finding it. He's the most interesting character in the whole play. Very little singing (Ironic, no?), but what a part. I skimmed through the soundtrack- very cute. Lots of funny lyrics and catchy tunes.

So yesterday I went to the call-back. There were four girls trying out for the female lead, two guys trying out for the male lead, and for Jud there was me and Chuck King. Chuck King's been in a lot of plays. And he comes from Oklahoma. In the production of Peter Pan Dena was in, Chuck King was both Captain Hook and musical director. He's spent more time on stage than I've spent procrastinating.

He didn't do a good job. They gave him one of Jud's most dramatic lines to read, and he was stumbling all over it. I waited for them to give me that scene to read, so that I could outdo him. But I'd already gotten two little bits (one being the scene I'd done in the audition, and I did it okay but not quite as well as then).

I got into the chorus! Yay!



Um.

I sent the producer a letter. I said, "If I were to ask you what I did wrong when trying out for Jud, would you give me a straight answer?". And he answered that I "did not do anything 'wrong,' but the committee felt that another candidate was stronger in his experience and skills, as well as in contrast with other players."

Well, sure. He can dance. He can draw upon his experience. He can get people to buy tickets. "Ooh, Chuck King is in this! I'll come see it."

Blah, chorus.

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Wednesday, December 31, 2008

I bet you thought I wasn't going to take that deadline seriously. Well, I did- I spent six hours working today. It's the last day of the Gregorian year and I have a version of The Perfect Color which is playable from start to finish. (The first time I played the complete game through, it took me eight minutes.)

It's not ready for release yet. There are some huge, game-stopping bugs which I need to find and exterminate. And then I need to wait for a few animations from my partner Kyler, without which some events don't make sense. But that's it. I'm pretty much done. And it's fantastic.

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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

No work done.

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Monday, December 22, 2008

The Garden: Metaludes

There are at least two distinct Forms arranged as equals, connected with exploration. When these three (or more) Forms are present and dominant, you've got a metalude. It's complex, obviously, which means the primary content is story.

If we're treating a Form as a discipline with which to make games, then the metalude is the discipline of connecting other disciplines together in a way that is cohesive and sustainable. I'll get to the "cohesive" bit in a minute, but what I mean by "sustainable" is that you can use this formula to connect any two Forms together, no matter how bizarre the combination seems, and it'll probably work. So this isn't a one-off structure, like Metal Gear Solid's stealth action/audio drama/film combo. You can use it over and over again to get lots of different kinds of games.

The exploration is a constant among all metaludes because it makes the work feel like a cohesive whole, rather than individual parts strung together. Rather than feeling like "Here's a puzzle game, now here's an action game.", it feels like "Here's a world, where this room has a puzzle and this room has a battle.". It's not a series of events, it's a landscape which has all these different kinds of gameplay on top of it. Rather than getting totally separated emotions from different sections, the player gets a combined emotion from the game world which is defined by the contrast between the two (or more) kinds of gameplay.

There are two main genres of metalude, in popularity and commonness: fantasy and urban. Fantasy metaludes (The Legend of Zelda being the model) take inspiration from fantasy role-playing games, and urban metaludes (Grand Theft Auto) take inspiration from crime movies, if I'm not mistaken. (I've never actually played GTA, so I don't know for sure.)

In fantasy metaludes, it's generally expected that there will be puzzles and action. I guess that fits with the Tolkien model of fantasy stories- fighting armies of monsters, solving ancient riddles. It's a curious combination, though, in that the pacing is totally different. Action games are intense and rely on quick reactions, puzzle games are slow and rely on careful analysis. But maybe that's the appeal- action will tire you out leaving you in the mood for something more relaxing, and a puzzle will tax the brain leaving you in the mood for something more mindless. So in a sense they balance each other out. The plots of Zelda tend to concern divine balance- proving to the gods that your skills are balanced enough, fighting against an enemy who is too focused on accumulating power. While I don't approve of the cinematic way those stories are told, they aren't really grafted on. They're an extension of what the game is already about.

In urban metaludes, it's expected that there will be driving movement and action. I haven't actually played such a game, so I don't know for certain how the combination works. But if I may guess, it seems like it would evoke aggression and a certain single-mindedness. You drive to wherever you need to get to, you shoot whoever you need to shoot, and you drive on. Both driving games and action games strive for intensity, and movement games aren't so far removed from action games, so it's a straightforward combination. If I were to make such a game I'd try to distinguish the two from each other more to heighten the contrast, to contrast the rules and tedium of driving with the chaos and frenzy of fighting, but my understanding is that that's not what they're going for. From what I've gathered, it's a low-contrast world where everything is chaos and frenzy. I haven't heard anything specific at all about the stories, but they ought to focus on the endless loop of violence in the world, because that would fit the never-ending intensity of gameplay.

There can be much weirder combinations. I think the strangest I've encountered was Chibi Robo, which combined platforming with (of all things) cleaning. (Cleaning is a weak Form, about which there's not much to say.) The cleaning never pretends to be anything other than tedious, which makes the contrast with the platforming -a Form which typically evokes joy and a sense of liberation- more pronounced. The story was about a tiny cleaning robot in a massive (for him) house encountering all sorts of strange characters. I think this is actually a really good example of what I was saying about how the feeling you get from the world is defined by the contrast between the two Forms. On the floor the gameplay is cleaning, and when you go higher up the gameplay's climbing and jumping and floating around. So the house feels like chores are its surface, and the farther you go the more fun it gets. On reflection, there may have been an intentional educational message there.

My last example is Beyond Good & Evil, which fits into the fantasy genre but is worth considering on its own. On top of its world it puts not only puzzles and action, but also stealth action and driving and flying and platforming and photography. The two Forms which stand out most are stealth action and photography, stealth because it's used most and photography because it has a different interface to everything else. The story is about a photojournalist who sneaks around government facilities to uncover the truth about conspiracies. The huge number of Forms makes the world seem complicated and messy.

In each of these examples, the story isn't something tacked on top. It's the result of how the different Forms fit together.

The interface doesn't absolutely need to be consistent from Form to Form, but gamists usually try to cover up the seams for the sake of cohesion. (If it's going to be disjointed, why connect it with exploration at all?) There won't be five buttons controlling fighting, there'll be one. And that button will stay there even as you're solving a puzzle, but just won't do much. The trouble is, each type of gameplay requires a different set of buttons. And there are only so many buttons to work with. So the gamist needs to be clever, reusing buttons in ways which are efficient but not unintuitive. For instance, in BG&E the button for jumping in platforming sections is also the button for rolling on the ground in stealth, and the button for running is also the button for speeding up a vehicle. This makes the jumps from Form to Form smoother, so it's laudable. Still, trying to fit everything together can limit a gamist's visions for each individual section. When Forms are especially distinct from each other, a dynamic interface (like I suggested in the adventure game post) is a good idea. The 3D Zelda games actually do something similar, though on a smaller scale: There's one button that does whatever the game says it does at the moment. Text at the top of the screen has a phrase like "throw" or "put away" or "defend" depending on the situation, and that's what that button will do at that time. It's clever, really- it fills in all the functionality the gamists weren't able to fit in normally.

Being a complex Form, the techniques used in making a metalude are naturally similar to those you'd need for an RPG or any other complex game. You need to understand how several Forms can fit together, how to tell a story, you need to understand the needs of the contained Forms. But the principles of metaludes -contrast and cohesion- are not shared by other Forms. In a role-playing game, even one with exploration, strategy and action, it is counterproductive to make the strategy and action feel similar or give them equal placement in the whole or keep the interface constant. What you do with the strategy is almost irrelevant to what you do with the action, and vice versa. Also, what makes for a good metalude story doesn't make for a good RPG story. The metalude's story emerges from the gameplay, the RPG's story is mostly separate from gameplay. Just because both Forms are complex doesn't mean their language is the same.

A game with exploration, and two Forms which are combined together as though they were one element, is not a metalude. That's a hybrid serving the purpose of an exploration game. Metroid, for instance. Action and platformer, with exploration. That'd be a metalude if the action and platformer weren't woven together so closely. You don't get contrast between two Forms if they're interpreted by the player as being one Form.

I will point out that the adventure game by its "present" definition, which I consider to be a poorly conceived Form, is extremely close to the metalude. If an adventure has exploration with puzzles and character interaction, that's already a metalude. I am not familiar with an adventure game whose story fits the contrast between puzzles and character interaction, and the interface is almost never consistent between puzzles and dialogue, so clearly the traditional adventure gamists were not approaching the material from the same angle as the metalude gamists. If they had, the stories would have all been about the conflict between intellect and compassion, or something to that effect. In trying to achieve a broader range of stories without radically changing the make-up of Forms, adventures set themselves down a different path, which I maintain is better achieved through the "future" definition of adventures which I proposed. Still, the comparison is interesting in that it points to a different (more limiting) way adventures could progress.

As gamism progresses, the general public will not clamor for metaludes. The public doesn't realize that metaludes even exist. But gamists themselves are guaranteed to work within the Form, just because there's so much artistic potential there. I don't know if the metalude will ever be formally recognized as a kind of game. But I do know that, even when gamism interfaces directly with our brains, the metalude will still be on the cutting-edge of art. The more sophisticated other Forms become, the more the metalude has to work with. I'm certain the first gamistic equivalent of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony will be a metalude. It is the Form which contains all possibilities, and makes sense of them.

Droplets: Metaludes

Adventure and interactive music, in a world containing semi-abstract musicians and realistic ordinary people in equal numbers. The frustrations of ordinary life are resolved by playing music in branching paths. The story involves a musician going through hard times with his banal work and uncaring family.

Puzzle and luck, in a totally abstract (and convoluted) world where it's not immediately apparent which Form is which. Sometimes careful deduction will get you the answer, sometimes you just need to bumble around long enough. Sometimes you're relieved that you don't have to put in effort, sometimes you're relieved to be given that opportunity. Which means, of course, that you're also often frustrated before you get to that point. The world design is hard to fathom, with no sense behind anything. The story is, as you'd expect, abstract but emotional.

Flight, platformer, driving, strategy, puzzle and luck, in a world where each Form is given a dedicated section where the farther you go the harder it gets. They overlap with each other at rare points, so that if you get far in one you can jump to a far part in another. The game doesn't save progress, but keeps a timer of how long you play. After 24 hours of play, the game suddenly deletes itself and can't be played again without buying the game over again. The story concerns a sick person with one more day to live.

Platformer and sports action, in a more-or-less real-world setting. There are kids in the street to kick balls around with, and houses which you can jump over. If any of the kids see you jumping, you can't play with them anymore. But it's fun to jump. You get to jump over all the landmarks of the city, watching games down below from rooftops.

Perception and action, again in a 3D real-world-meets-science-fiction setting. You look for optical illusions - all sorts of everyday objects which look perfectly normal from one angle but from a different angle are clearly impossible. That's a gateway to another dimension, where you have to fight weird alien creatures. The story is about an attempted alien invasion which only you know about (or can stop).

Film and role-playing game, with a dynamic interface which in the film sections becomes a remote control, in a generic fantasy world where one corner is totally noninteractive and the other corner is totally interactive. You need to hunt for ways to defeat the generic fantasy villain, which gives the gamist many opportunities to contrast the old-fashioned way of telling stories with this newfangled way of telling stories. The story can be resolved many ways, some more interactive and some less interactive.

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Thursday, December 18, 2008

No work done.

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Thursday, December 11, 2008

No work done.

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Sunday, December 07, 2008

I Am a Rug, I Am an Onion

Previously:
Aw, to heck with it.
When Moshe told me he was auditioning for the musical 1776, I congratulated him but didn't really think to try out for myself. … But then, yesterday, my mother e-mailed me the notice for auditions. And I thought about it. And I'm going to go there today.

I didn't know what song to bring to audition with. … So last night and today, I made up a new one.
How The Audition Went
Did I make a fool of myself? Why, yes. Yes, I did.
I got in.
I'm going to be playing John Witherspoon in 1776.
Imagined Opportunities
Everyone needs opportunities to offer something to others, be that a joke or a service or an experience. We understand this, you and I. And when you never get an opening, you get pretty desperate. When no one wanted to listen to your music in the Academy, you went and played in recesses anyway, pretending you would have whether or not your classmates were there. But really you'd reached the point where you thought you'd make openings for yourself where none existed. And what did that desperation get you? Did anyone in your class listen to what you were playing? No.
In Darkness
What sort of reward could you possibly be expecting? It's not just about reward. You don't do things only to get somewhere, you also do things just because they're there to be done.
It turns out, I'm not in a single song. I'm in a musical where I don't get to be involved with the music in any way. (So what's the point, right?) There are two parts for the chorus- the first is before my character makes his entrance, the second is just for those against independence. (My character is on the wrong side, being for it.) All other songs are for specific characters. So I'm left saying lines like "New Jersey votes yea." and "I'm sorry, John." and an impassioned speech about God which is actually just one bullet point in a long list.

I asked the assistant director: "Was my singing voice that bad?" "No", she said, "We didn't think of that at all. We just thought you were right for the part." Which could be the whole truth. Or it could be how she says "Yes, you stink." while trying not to offend me.

I did mess up pretty badly. I keep running the song through my head, over and over, every single day. Messing up that song is going to be one of those things I regret for the rest of my life, like what happened at the Beauty and the Beast audition and that time in the Academy where I didn't know the religious stuff I was supposed to know and reading that haftarah in shul where I got up and couldn't remember the trup and the time I started crying to get sympathy in seventh grade and the times I was violent and the time in fifth grade I thought I was going to be performing in a concert but I wasn't and the time in second grade I sang a song out loud and the time in first grade I rejected a friend because of peer pressure. Mistakes don't go away. I keep thinking of all the ways that audition should have gone, what piano music I should have written up to accompany it. I know exactly why the rhythm seemed weird, and that it needed to switch the number of beats each measure: 4,4,5,3,3,4,2,4,4,…

Moshe got the main villain. (He doesn't like calling him a "villain", preferring "rival".) I'm so jealous. So I said to him: "I'm so jealous." And he said: "Don't be. It took me five plays to get here!" Which is a good point. I have no experience, Moshe has lots. They can trust him. They certainly can't trust me.

I recognized some of the faces at the first rehearsal from Beauty and the Beast. I was happy to see Jerry there, who I'd sat next to in those rehearsals. I was disappointed, when that show fell apart, that I'd never gotten a chance to say goodbye to him. Which is probably silly- I shouldn't get emotionally invested in people I just happened to be sitting next to. Still, he also got a pretty tiny role in this thing. It's doesn't have to be so lonely at the bottom.

With such a simple part, I need some opportunities to make myself feel better. So every time someone asks me "How are you?", I'm going to respond, "Very good! I'm working on my second computer game, having finished the first.". That's something I could never do before- present myself as a person who's actually moving somewhere. And any time that piano isn't in use, I'll jump at the chance to improvise while pretending I don't care if anyone listens. Er, I mean- while not caring if anyone listens. Silly me, did I say "pretending"? I'll just go hide in that corner now.

One opportunity which isn't just imagined is that I get to spend more time with Moshe. That'll be fun.

But I dunno, I'm disappointed. I know I can do more than this. I'm not just a random guy, I'm Mory the gamist and sometimes-composer. The idea I've gotta swallow is that that doesn't mean squat. I'm not entitled to anything at all. I've gotta build myself up from scratch, find opportunities and work at them until I have made something of myself.

Or at least gotten a new set of embarrassing memories.

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Thursday, December 04, 2008

This is going to work.

Previously:
Inspiration
Fulfilling needs
This is when you ask "What should I do?".

It's the easiest kind of inspiration, probably because we're all so experienced in it from dreaming. You're missing something in your life, so you invent it.
30 minutes ago, I was just waking up. As I lay in bed, I remembered that this was the day the trial for the new version of BlitzMax ran out. (The old version I procured illegally, and it gave me many problems.) I'll have to buy it in a day or two, but for now I'd like to get some work in before time runs out.

Anyway, I was lying in bed thinking about this, and suddenly (I don't think there was even much conscious thought involved) bits of code started popping up in my head. I didn't know what the specific commands were, but I saw the BlitzMax IDE in my head, with all the code written on it, and I was jumping back and forth saying "This line here needs a slight tweak, there needs to be a big block of code down here eventually, there needs to be another function here, which I'll then call from here.". I saw what the game needed to work, I saw answers to questions I hadn't consciously considered, I saw bits of text which I'd need to include in the tutorial.

This is going to work.

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Wednesday, December 03, 2008

New goal:
Have a version of the game, good enough to play, by the end of the calendar year.
The only revisions in 2009 will be aesthetic or fine-tuning.

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Simplify!

My game, right now, is a mess. There are so many rules, each one adding a little bit to the metaphor, and I understand them all perfectly. There are some people who help, and some people who harm, and the only way to tell them apart is by watching what they do. They change their behavior if you take off their hats. This makes sense to me.

But when I think about how I'm going to explain this to the player, I come up short. These aren't obvious rules at all, and they only seem obvious because I've been thinking about them for so long.

So I've got to (temporarily) stop adding rules and start taking away rules. I could have the most sophisticated gameplay-as-metaphor ever, but if no one understands it but me, then what's the point?

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No work done.

Next goal: implementing the concept of personal ownership.

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Monday, December 01, 2008

Friends

Shabbat isn't bad at all if I have someone to talk to. Sure, it's not like the rest of the week, when I can watch five episodes of Felicity (J.J. Abrams' first show) and read a bunch of comics and play piano and do an hour of database entry and work on my game (in roughly that order), but it's not bad at all. Every Friday I go to the Feldmans to talk to Tamir and Eli (and on rare occasions, Harel). This week we all sat around and thought about who would win in a fight- Saruman or Darth Vader (for instance). We also played Sticheln, which I won. And I talked a little bit about random nonsense I wanted to talk about like how amazing that episode of Fringe was two weeks ago and how the audition went. (Tamir had already read the blog post, but I like to talk and he likes being silent too much to tell me not to.) It's always the Feldmans on Friday night because no one else stays awake past 2:00 AM.

In the day, I've got to go to someone else. There's only so much you can say about the latest episode of Heroes, and my life isn't so dramatic that I'd have much to say about life in general. So it's either Avri, Nati, or Moshe.

Moshe's the farthest away, that being a twenty-minute walk or so. But out of everyone I know, he's the most like me. So spending time with him is important to me. He's who I went to this past Shabbat. As I walked, I sang my audition song to myself -------
I think I hear music in the distance-
There must be someone there who hears the notes.
and bemoaned that I hadn't composed it one day sooner, so that I'd be capable of performing it without notes. (I'm still bitter about that.) I wanted to talk to Moshe about his audition experience, maybe hear some nervousness that'd make me feel better about myself, find out whether he thought he'd be in, tell him about my song and that we might be in this musical together.

It's a bit of a luck game, going to Moshe's house. I never know if he'll be there, and if he is there I never know if they've had lunch yet. They tend to have lunch really late.

This was one of the cases where they were having lunch late. I got there, and saw that they were just starting. (We'd already finished a lengthy lunch at home.) I asked when I should come back (not that I'd have anywhere to go from there), but Moshe's mother said I didn't need to leave. So I sat down in one of their comfortable armchairs and waited. And waited. And waited. There wasn't any point of conversation at the table which I'd be inclined to join in on, so I waited. I kept hoping that Moshe would get up and come over, just for a minute, just so I could let him know I'd tried out for 1776 and see his reaction, but he just kept eating and eating and talking and talking and seemed to forget I was there. He even kept eating after everyone else had finished, in both the main meal and dessert (which wasn't short to begin with).

That's not something I'd do. If I had a guest, I'd keep watching him to make sure he wasn't terribly bored. And if I wasn't up to doing that, I wouldn't let him in in the first place. If I have a guest, I understand that they're my responsibility. (This is why I don't much like having guests.)

I waited for two hours on that chair, and Moshe didn't come over to me once. And then he went off to do errands, without so much as a reassurance that he'd be with me in a minute. I don't know, maybe he would have been. But I couldn't know that. I'd waited two hours to talk to him, and had no guarantee. So I told the family's guest (who was the only one in the room at the time): "You know what? I'm going. Tell Moshe I left."

And I did.

It's not really that I'm angry. Okay, maybe a little angry. But I knew that if I waited long enough, he'd get around to talking to me. It was more a dramatic gesture, you know? That's not the sort of thing I'd do, and I spend time with Moshe because he's like me. It was unacceptable, and I wanted him to understand that I felt that way.

I didn't know he'd come after me shortly afterward. If I did, I would have sat at home and waited some more. It's not like I didn't want to talk to him. But I thought he'd say "That's a shame, I guess I'll talk to him some other time.", so I went out again.

Avri wasn't home, so I went to see if Nati was home. If he wasn't, I guess I would have checked to see if Harel was awake next. And if not him then Tamir and Eli again. Not that any of that matters- Nati was home.

Nati isn't like me, not really. He's not an Asperger or hyperactive, he doesn't play games or read comics or play music. As I was there, his mother noted: "What Nati likes, he's really passionate about." And I realized that that's really what I like about him. What he's particularly passionate about is movies. So whenever I go over, I always ask what movies he's seen lately. It's bound to be an interesting answer. This week the first thing I said to him was that I'd seen In Bruges, because he'd recommended it to me. (Excellent movie, by the way. I pass along the recommendation.) And somehow eventually the conversation got to me talking about elements of Ultimate comics which I'm surprised made it into the Incredible Hulk movie. He listens even when it's not directly about one of his interests, I guess because he understands how people can care about things.

Not a bad group of friends, not bad at all.

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Sunday, November 30, 2008

I got in.

I'm going to be playing John Witherspoon in 1776.

2 Comments:

Squinky said:

Congrats.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Yay!

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Imagine, if you will…

Exploring a landscape of improvised music

More than fifty talented musicians sit down at the same time in fifty recording studios. Each has a different instrument- pianos, drums, flutes, violins, guitars, vocals, saxophones, harmonicas, you name it. This is all going to go through computers which are networked together. I don't know if an internet connection can be fast enough to coordinate what I'm about to suggest, but let's say it is and that these people aren't anywhere near each other. They are all wearing motion-capture suits, so that a video camera in each room can record movement to be applied to 3D models of the musicians.

The computer has an image of a virtual sphere, on which each musician is represented by a point. If two musicians are next to each other on that sphere, then they hear each other as though they were in a room together. See, each room has two or three computer monitors, positioned on the wall at the precise point where the musician would be looking if he were on the sphere looking at the respective person. On the screen is the live video feed of that performer, and next to it is a speaker so that each can hear what the other is playing. There's another speaker, not connected to any particular monitor, which very quietly plays everything which is no more than two points away, but still close enough to be relevant.

Once this is all set up, they just start to play.

No one is given any direction in terms of who starts or what key to be in or what style of music to play. They just listen to each other and figure it out as they go. They play for fifteen minutes or so, and leave.

Then the animators come in. They smooth out the motion-capture data, and integrate all the facial expressions in.

Then it's turned into a first-person exploration game. You start out from a point on the sphere of your choosing, and then you can walk around however you like, in 3D, as the recording plays out. Obviously, surround sound is recommended. The volume of a musician depends on your distance from him, and the musicians are spread out really far so that clashing performances are kept to a minimum wherever you go. (The specific distances are tweaked by a "composer" after the recording.) There's a thick fog, so that visibility is tied to hearing. You can go through the music over and over, each time taking a different path and getting a different experience.

This is not the sort of work which can be achieved overnight. It could take years of experimenting with styles and techniques and relationships and positions on the sphere. And even after all that, it'd probably be very flawed. But I think that's part of what's cool about it. It's more pure music- the conflicts and admirations between musicians, fighting with each other and hugging each other via music. And you can look at the faces, see how they react to each other, try to imagine what this musician heard in that one's performance which inspired him to play this. It's the sort of thing you could play over and over for years, and still find new depth in.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

I have a actually experienced a similar type of audio exploration piece. It was an installation that was put up in the gallery at ACAD during my first year their.

40 high quality speakers were setup around a room, spaced in groups that represented different parts of a choir. Each speaker played the recording of one person singing their part of "The Forty Part Motet". It was written by someone famous who I can't remember.

You could walk around the room and put your ear right up to each speaker and hear each person individually, or move into the middle to here the whole.

It was a great piece of art.

Kyler

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Friday, November 28, 2008

No work done.

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Thursday, November 27, 2008

How The Audition Went

Did I make a fool of myself? Why, yes. Yes, I did.

It started with a warm-up, in which we sang (with harmony) the beginning of "Sit Down, John" and I missed most of my cues though no one was paying much attention. Then we all went outside and waited for our turns.

As I waited I went over my song a tiny bit, but I didn't feel I really needed to. After all, I'd been repeating it over and over and over in my head on the bus to Jerusalem. Even if I had been messing it all up in my head on that bus ride, I'd been reciting it so many times that in the moment I'd know what to do.

"What will you be singing?"
"Something I composed today."
"Today?"
"Well, this morning."

And then I started begging that they let me sing from the notes, rather than from memory. I couldn't do it from memory. (I do think "begging" rather than "asking" is the right word- no dignity was involved.) The casting director was strongly against it, so I started singing.

You can fill in the rest with your imagination, and chances are it'll be more or less how it went.

They stopped me before I got to the second verse, which I put there for the sake of contrast and showing off my range. That's the "confident" part of the song, as opposed to the beginning and ending which are hopeless and a little scared and maybe not all that distinguishable to a bad singer singing badly for an audition.

"Sorry.", I blabbered, "I only composed it today. It's still fresh in my head. If I could have followed the notes…"
"Thank you. Do you have another song?"
"Well, there's another piece here I've got the accompaniment for," -I pulled out the page of "The Balladier's Warning" piano music which I'd printed out as a backup plan- "but I didn't think it was so appropriate."

Here's the original poem. There are some small differences in my version, because when Eva wrote down the poem for me she was doing it from memory. The poem was written for a tune from the movie Anastasia, which I was not familiar with at the time. In order to send her my work, I wrote up the notes for the accompaniment, saved it as a MIDI and sang along with that.
I handed the page to the music director, who then proceeded to play it better than I do. And I sang along, which took no effort at all. I composed it months ago, music for a poem that Tamir's friend Eva had. And it's had all that time for her words and my music to bounce around in my head, so that pulling it out is effortless at this point. I hadn't practiced it so much. And yet I think I sang it well. That might just have been me hearing what I wanted to hear, but usually when I sing it I feel like I'm pretending to sing, and I actually felt like I was singing that time.

As I said, it could just be my state of mind at the time, and maybe it was as wretchedly bad as I expected "The Balladier's Warning" to be if I sang it at an audition. I honestly don't know.

They gave me a script for Jefferson, and told me to wait outside. At first I resolved not to disrespect anyone else's singing, since that would put me in a position of weakness. But then I heard one or two people who were obviously terrible (I can't say objectively whether they were worse than me.), and I laughed. It made me feel, for a moment, like I hadn't done an awful job. Though of course I had.

After everyone had done the singing, people started getting pulled in for line readings. I'd been going over the lines over and over in my head, picturing how the guy who played Jefferson in the John Adams miniseries would have read the lines. Very quiet, but maybe getting more agitated and even ever-so-slightly charismatic when justifying his position.

Anyway, I was called in. I asked, "Who am I playing against?", which I thought was a perfectly obvious question. And one of them said something along the lines of: "I like how you're already taking an antagonistic attitude toward your colleague." Honestly, I might be getting that quote very wrong- I didn't understand the intention behind the statement. Anyway.

I started while under-acting, and as soon as the words left my mouth I could tell that I wasn't acting like that actor on TV, just acting like I was afraid to act. But what the hey, that's pretty close to what I was going for, right? I was interrupted before I could reach my intended crescendo into outspoken-ness, as the script seemed to be indicating should build and build and then suddenly crash back down into mumbly-ness. I was told to start back from the beginning, but with more confidence. "But wasn't Jefferson a quiet man?" "Maybe the real Jefferson. I want you to play him confidently. Take a step back, put your legs apart a little, hold up your chest."

I tried again. Giving him a little more confidence seemed to take it too close to my ordinary speech, but that was what I was told and I didn't know how else to play it. I could feel myself slipping back into quietness as I went along, though it wasn't really my intention- my idea of who Jefferson should be was getting in the way of playing the part I was supposed to play. Which would be more reasonable if I were a good enough actor to get my idea of who Jefferson should be across, which I'm guessing I'm not.

And then I left.


So, not nearly as bad as the last time I auditioned for something. But also not something I can walk away from with self-respect. Blah.

I think I have a chance of getting in- there were very few people there, and I think there are a lot of roles. So they'll sort of have to bring in a few guys of my level just to round out the chorus.

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Aw, to heck with it.

When Moshe told me he was auditioning for the musical 1776, I congratulated him but didn't really think to try out for myself. When I was (too briefly) in the Beauty & the Beast cast, I made a total fool of myself. Not just the way I always hurt my teams in the warm-up games, but the whole audition and my pitiful attempts to dance…

It wasn't really an option to go through that again, y'know?

But then, yesterday, my mother e-mailed me the notice for auditions. And I thought about it. And I'm going to go there today.

I didn't know what song to bring to audition with. They said it should be musical-type music, and that it should highlight acting ability, and that there should be contrast in it. And I didn't really have a song like that. So last night and today, I made up a new one. Lyrics and everything. And now that I have that, I'm feeling much more confident about the whole thing.

Here are the lyrics:
It's been dark out for so long,
I've almost forgotten what the light looks like.
Can the world be as inviting as I picture it to be?
What if my heading is all wrong?
I turn for every flicker that I see!
Each time my heart beats quicker- is this it?
My destiny?

I think I hear music in the distance-
There must be someone there who sees the notes.
I think I feel wind across my shoulder-
Is it there?
Is it there?

I've been walking for so long.
My legs say to stop, and I still move onward.
With each step I wonder: is there any place for me?
I look around for any sign
But the sound is just an echo, and the feeling is a distant memory.

2 Comments:

Charles said:

pity we cant here it to music...
Shhh don't encourage him!
who the hell are you?
oops.

 Mory said:

I've thought about posting the music somehow, but if I posted it down here no one would ever notice it, and I've never seen any reason to put it at the top. There's also music for the "About Me" poem; same story.

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Monday, November 24, 2008

1 5 6

Wow, I'm really unoriginal. I was struggling for a few days to remember an old theme. I knew exactly where I'd left it in my head, but when I reached in there my fingers couldn't find it. All I needed was some little corner of it, and I'd be able to get the rest of it out. But I wasn't getting in far enough. You know how it is.

See, this was a theme which I'd played over and over and over again in the past, though not in several years. I'd played it over and over and over because, as is usually the case, it didn't go anywhere. Just another random bit of aimless nonsense which I happened to be attached to for no particular reason.

I remembered the theme at 3:00 in the morning, as is typical. But that got it loose enough that I could get it out onto the piano the next day. As always I hoped that maybe with a fresh perspective I could find a continuation. No such luck - it still goes nowhere.

I did see something I wasn't expecting, though. Analyzing it from various angles made me realize that it was awfully similar to another old piece I'd almost forgotten. And once I saw that, I noticed another old piece and another, all coming from the same creative place. I expressed frustration with this revelation, and demonstrated that I'm not like that anymore by playing my most recent theme. Yep, very different indeed.

Here's the thing. I apparently am in love with three notes, since they start a lot of my pieces. They are: 1 5 6. What I mean by that is, you take a note, you go up four notes from there, and then you go up by another one. This is usually in minor, which means that the sixth is just the tiniest bit above the fifth.

(Incidentally, that new and different theme I mentioned? Starts 6 5 1. In minor. Maybe not so different after all. I only realized this the next day.)

The theme I'd been trying to remember began 1, 5 6, 2 1, 4 5. This reminded me of old theme 1 5 6, 6-5-4 5 3 4 2. (Both are in minor.) And I realized that Variations on V.O.V presented those notes very prominently in one bit. And that little soothing piece in major I composed to use Grandma and Grandpa's piano which doesn't have much edge to it? It starts with 5 9 10, 4 8 9, 3 7 8. in the left hand, while the right hand plays the melody 1… 6… 5…. And there's a tense minor theme which starts 1-5 5-6 6-3 3-7 7-2 2, and a different theme where (in the middle) 1 5 6 repeats on higher and higher octaves in order to hold on to tension that was created.

(Worried, I checked my best musical work -A Lonely Journey. No 1 5 6 there. Phew.)

This obviously isn't something I was aware of before. But it also isn't really an accident- in each of these cases, 1 5 6 is a critical part of the music, not just something I pass through on the way to places. So clearly something about those notes speaks to me.

The 1 grounds it. "Here is what you're standing on." The 5 brings that to its natural conclusion, fifths being the most pure interval. If you just have the 1 and 5, you've got a lovely chord of sorts. It's too pure to know whether it's major or minor, but it has weight to it. Then it goes up from there, because it's not exciting enough for my tastes yet. It can't go up to 8, because that's too obvious. Up to 7 doesn't really change the chord, just makes it more complex and interesting. I use that on occasion. Up to 9 makes my favorite chord, two fifths together, but it's so pure that there's nowhere to go from there.

But up to 6! 6 changes the meaning of the chord. In minor it's just the tiniest bit removed from 5, but flips the whole chord's meaning upside down. See, 6 is just two notes under 1 (or 8), which means that that's suddenly the "real" base of the chord. A tiny little half-tone increment, and suddenly the chord isn't what you thought it was. That's interesting to me.

So now, whenever I play 1 5 6, even if there was no particular intent behind it, I'm going to remember the interconnectedness of everything and see if I can reuse that 1 5 6 some more to make it seem like I actually know what I'm doing.

Though of course I don't.

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Sunday, November 23, 2008

Conflict, about the blog part 2

Normally I'd just talk about this with Eli, but he wasn't around so what the heck. What's a blog for, right? So.

I'm becoming a big fan of J.J. Abrams' TV work. I've been watching Lost for years, but it's only now that I'm getting around to Alias and seeing how much fun that is. And his new show Fringe- fantastic. Which brings me to the topic of this post: the latest episode of Fringe, and how brilliant it was. It had me glued to my seat right from
*ahem*
What a clichéd entrance. No, seriously, I do want to talk about the episode.

It set up these characters at the beginning, which I wouldn't have minded seeing a whole episode about. I just wanted to know, "What happens next?", and I had no idea that what I was in for was even cooler than
*AHEM*
Stop interrupting me. Yes, I know you're there. Go away. So it introduced this character, a kid who's a brilliant musician, and I guess I probably
Um, excuse me, Mr. Buckman?
What!
We should probably
leave him alone.
Look, I'm sorry to bother you.
Should I go?
No, whatever. What is it you want?
Sorry.
We were just wondering when you'd get back to talking about interesting stuff.
I wasn't wondering that.
I don't mind so much.


Define "interesting".
Anything which, um…
Gamism stuff.
Yeah. We want to know how you turn into a famous gamist.
This seems to be the part of the blog where that starts to happen, and we were both hoping to see more about how that happens. Because we were really sort of wondering about how someone, what that experience is like.
First of all: I'm not a famous gamist. You guys aren't real, you're just characters I made up. But Fringe is a real show, and I'd like to talk about that. Now go away.
And second?
What?
Look, it just seems like you're wasting a lot of time. You're talking about TV shows, and comics, and I'm sure that would be very interesting if you grew up to be a famous comics or TV guy, y'know, if they didn't all converge into gamism, but you're a gamist. That's what you are. So none of this is interesting.
What do you want me to tell you? It's going fine, I'm working on it a little bit every day. I'm working on the chefs' movement now.
Look, it doesn't need to be about games specifically.
No?
I mean, it doesn't need to specifically be about making the games. But you were such a lazy person before, and we know that eventually you're going to be, it's going to be well-known how you work ridiculous amounts on your games, like in that interview I read from back in
Is that a fact.
Look, that's not the point! The point is you're talking about all this stuff which has nothing to do with your personal, um, "path" as you put it. This isn't what your life is supposed to be about! Where are all the struggles, and questions, and challenges, and stuff? When will you have to ask yourself
Oy! Look, I'm working every single day, okay? And I just started the job at the Friedmans again. See, discipline and all that! I'm doing fine!
Yeah, but
Let's go.
Just
Let's go!
Leave him alone already!
Jeez.
Fine. It's not like he's going to do anything anyway.



Well, it's nice to know that tact is a thing of the past in the future. Y'know, pretending that that's the future. Which it isn't. Bl'bah.

So. Fringe.



Eh, I'm not in the mood to talk about anything anymore. Whatever.

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Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Ultimate Marvel comics

(I apologize for talking so much about comic books lately. No more after this for a while.)

Marvel started their Ultimate line of comics in 2000 with Ultimate Spider-Man. I think the best way to describe it is as a remake of their superhero comics and universe. The Ultimate comics started their continuity from scratch, retelling old stories as the regular Marvel comics do new things. There were two good reasons to do this. It was mainly done to sell to younger readers, who might be put off by the complicated continuity and unfamiliar status quos of the regular books. It also tried to approach the stories from a more modern sensibility, rather than being simple homages and rehashes. That way, they could justify selling it to people who were already reading their comics.

Eight years later, the Ultimate comics don't seem to have any reason to exist. Stories better geared for kids are being published in the Marvel Adventures imprint, where the stories are all done-in-one, as opposed to six-issue arcs. That line started in 2003 (and was restarted in 2005), and occasionally yields surprisingly fun and whimsical (if tame) stories. The Ultimate comics have told so many stories by now that their continuity is almost as hard to follow as the originals, and the status quos keep bouncing around in a struggle to stay fresh. And the original Ultimate architects (Brian Bendis and Mark Millar) have moved up to the regular Marvel universe, where they're doing stuff that feels as fresh as anything they did in Ultimate. So on both sides, Ultimate Marvel is redundant.

The editors are trying to deal with this in a few ways. First, they've brought in new blood: Aron Coleite, Joe Pokaski, and Jeph Loeb, all from the TV show Heroes. (Actually, Jeph Loeb has just been kicked off Heroes. From what I've seen of his comic work, I think it was deserved.) Though some of their work seems too reminiscent of Heroes plotlines, Coleite and Pokaski both seem to be very good writers. The other thing they're trying to do is raise the stakes. They're doing that with a Loeb-written miniseries called "Ultimatum", in which much havoc is wreaked. I wasn't impressed by it at all. The editors say that they want the Ultimate comics to be a place where big things can happen that wouldn't happen in the Marvel Universe, but I don't think that's enough. Fine, the Earth could blow up tomorrow in the comics. But that wouldn't give them any more reason to exist.

Here are my thoughts on each of the Ultimate comics.


Ultimate Spider-Man

This was the first one, and if it hadn't been good there wouldn't be any others. There are now 127 issues, not counting specials and miniseries, and they've all been written by Brian Michael Bendis. This series is good not because it was a particularly good idea to remake Spider-Man, but because Bendis is just really good. He's taken a lot of old plot-driven action stories, and reworked them into character-driven stories. And in order to make that work, he took characters that were usually paper-thin, and made them believable, likable, flawed, and interesting. His versions of characters are often much different than the originals, but it works. It's his version of Spider-Man, and when he tells stories I've seen before they're always much more dramatic than I remember. Bendis loves to experiment with his situations and storytelling techniques, but his characterizations are so good and relatable that it's usually still palatable for the masses. And he's also really good at long-term plotting, subtly setting lots of stuff up which he then pays off fifty issues later. His one major weakness is action scenes. Whenever Spider-Man's punching someone, it feels like the book's just going through the motions. Bendis was a very strange choice for the comic, and no one else could have done it better.

With all that praise aside, there isn't that much point to the series. The Amazing Spider-Man, which has been three-times-a-month for a while now, is just as good. It's got Dan Slott, who co-writes my favorite superhero comic ever (Avengers: The Initiative), and it's got Marc Guggenheim, who's been doing the fantastically fun Eli Stone TV show, and it's got Bob Gale, who wrote Back to the Future. So it's not like if Bendis called it quits there wouldn't be well-written Spider-Man. What the series has going for it are two things. First, it gives me a little of the teenage soap-opera I've been missing since Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane ended. Secondly, there's a subtext to everything that happens in the entire series, where the American government is brewing up a genetic war. Every super-powered character's origin is tied to that idea, which gives this whole big ongoing series cohesion. And it's interesting enough, under the surface. Trouble is, it's been 127 issues, and that still hasn't built up into anything major. It still feels like it could erupt at any moment, like how the show 24 tries to feel like at any minute nuclear war will break out. But how long can that be dragged on for before it goes somewhere, and you move on? (Bendis has just written a miniseries which brought the theme to the surface.) It doesn't really feel like it's going anywhere. Peter Parker is still 15, just as he was when the series started. As much as the editors would like me to feel like anything can happen, I don't believe the war's going to start for real and I don't believe Peter will graduate school and I don't believe he'll get married.

Here's what I think they should have done. They should have set out with the intent of telling the whole story, from start to finish. Bendis should have plotted out 150 or 200 issues to cover the entire life of Spider-Man, from superpowers to growing up to having a family to premature death. They shouldn't have thought of this as an ongoing to be preserved for future writers, because that's what Amazing Spider-Man is for. They should have let Bendis loose, to do whatever the characters told him needed to be done. And the result would have been the definitive Spider-Man run.

I don't know how much can still be achieved at this point. The pace has been set already. I guess the best thing is to just keep doing the series as they're doing it for as long as Bendis wants to do it. I can't argue against an excellent comic coming out month after month. Though, it might be nice if Bendis moved on to something new. Is he really going to be on this for ten years straight? Wowsers.


The Ultimates

The Ultimates are a re-envisioning of The Avengers, who in a clever twist are not idealists. They're run by the American government, and used to fight their wars. It's a cynical story where most of the team's problems are caused by their own incompetence, and where they spend more time worrying about their image in the media than they do fighting supervillains. This has a very different tone than the other Ultimate books- not only is this not really for kids, but the visual style of the characters and the way they're characterized and the long chaotic action scenes are all more like big-budget Hollywood movies than like the usual comic books. The original Avengers series is just the inspiration- this really is its own thing.

Or was, I should say. Series creator Mark Millar wrote 26 issues, then left. That's when Jeph Loeb took over, and undid all the interesting work Millar had done. He made all the characters closer to their Marvel Universe versions, he made the storytelling more conventional and dull, and in general every reason to care about the series was taken away. I don't blame Millar for leaving. He told the story he wanted to tell, then went to the Marvel line and injected his brand of quasi-politics, cynicism and "Hollywoodiness" there with the big "Civil War" crossover. His run on The Ultimates had a satisfying ending, which is so rare. More importantly, if he had stayed on the routine would have gotten really old. That cynicism is now really common, even in regular Marvel comics like The Thunderbolts and Avengers: The Initiative, and in both those cases it's being done better than he did it. So I think it's good that he left when he did. But Jeph Loeb was absolutely the wrong person to follow him.

Again, I wish they had paid off the war they were hinting at. Millar hooked me with the idea of using superheroes as soldiers. So what's that like? What does a war look like where one side has superpowers before the other? What's the new world order like? What are the politics to all this? That's where the series needed to go. It needed to get more serious, not less. They needed to get -and this will sound bizarre to anyone who's familiar with his work, but they needed to get Jonathan Hickman to write this. To plot out a believable alternate history, in a world where wacky Marvel characters like Iron Man and Thor and Captain America and the Hulk exist.

Loeb has taken all the characters in such cartoony directions, that I don't see how it's possible to get to that anymore, short of starting over as a different book. He's turned The Ultimates into "The Avengers Lite", and now I think the best thing to do is just cancel. Which they may actually do, after Ultimatum. I'm hopeful.


Ultimate X-Men

Now here's a series that never had a reason to exist. When Mark Millar started it, it was already just a bland imitation of the original X-Men stories. There's no twist, there's no subtext, it's just X-Men. Again. There have been some excellent writers on it: Bendis, Brian K. Vaughan, Robert Kirkman. None of them could get to a point where there was a point. It had a big convoluted soap-opera with all its many characters, but that's what X-Men has been known for since the 70s and Chris Claremont did it better. The characters often act in ways that are surprising, but not ways that are more interesting than the original incarnations. This book doesn't feel like any writer's personal vision, it feels like a diluted rehash of better and more memorable stories.

What it should have done from the start was rethink the whole concept of the X-Men, because I think the problem stems from the originals. In the sixties, they were just another bunch of superheroes. Since then, the cast has gotten larger by the hundreds, and writers have used them as a metaphor for all sorts of oppressed minorities, but still I don't think the X-Men have found focus. They started out as superheroes like any others, so no matter how much you add on top that's what they'll still be. Their stories will still be about fighting this guy or that guy, about cleverly using this power against that power. I think there's a real problem with all the regular X-Men books, where even excellent writers write stories which only long-time fans could care about. So a remake was not just a way to get money, it should have been seen as a way to figure out how to make the X-Men work on a basic level. Start with just the original six characters, find a way to make them work and seem like a good idea, and only then start incorporating elements from later years. Slowly.

Here's how it should have worked. It should not have been an action-packed adventure, it should have been a tense drama. Brian K. Vaughan would have been perfect had he started it. The twist would be that most mutants can't control their powers. They genuinely are dangerous to society and themselves, which makes the whole persecution angle much more interesting on a fundamental level. It wouldn't be about fighting or being generic heroes, it would be about hiding and trying to survive. The only one with a reasonable amount of self-control would be Professor Xavier, and even he would be very scary for the rare occasions where he loses control. Imagine, being protected and taught by a guy who could erase your mind by accident. That's creepy, and that's the sort of thing it should have gone for.

Ah well. That's a whole different series. This one is pointless. It should have been cancelled long ago, and it's not too late to do so now.


Ultimate Fantastic Four

As with the original Fantastic Four, this is about a small team exploring wacky dimensions and fighting over-the-top villains and all that other generic superhero stuff. But it started out different from the Marvel Universe version in several ways. Most obviously, they changed the characters from adults to kids. That gives it a sort of wide-eyed enthusiasm which you wouldn't get in adults. More importantly, the tone was changed from anything-goes fantasy to more grounded science fiction. The first issue begins with Reed Richards, as a younger kid, discovering another dimension. Almost everything in the first eighteen issues (one story by Bendis and two stories by Warren Ellis) follows from that set-up. The heroes' powers and the main villain's powers and the initial plots are all tied to that dimension and the rules about how it works. The fact that there are rules at all differentiates this from the original, and I think there was potential to surpass the original. For my tastes, I think fictional science with rules is much more entertaining than fictional science which the writers make up as they go along. The first eighteen issues are fun, and all sorts of crazy things happen, but none of it feels like it's coming out of nowhere. So when Reed comes up with a brilliant invention, it's not just a plot device- it's a puzzle he solved, where you saw all the pieces to start with.

Then Mark Millar came on. He wrote four three-issue stories, and in that time he completely undid the series' potential. No, he did that quicker. Right from his first scene, where they're suddenly time-traveling back to the time of the dinosaurs, calling themselves "The Fantastic Four" and acting like jaded adults. Millar felt that the appeal of FF is that any craziness can happen, and maybe there's something to that. But that's not where this series should have gone. (Incidentally, he's writing the regular Fantastic Four now. He's writing it exactly as he wrote UFF, and it's not any good.) Once you say that Reed can invent anything as the plot dictates, and they're not acting like kids anymore, and there are no rules, what's the difference between it and the original? Why bother with an Ultimate version at all? Them looking younger isn't such a big difference to the kinds of stories you're telling.

It's not like Millar's stories were good on their own terms, either. He kept to a very rigid formula: Issue 1: set-up. Issue 2: The Twist. Issue 3: resolution. In each story, The Plot Twist was the only reason for the story to be told. To his credit, the twists were clever. But there was nothing but the twist. For instance: The first story started with Reed Richards discovering the original Marvel Universe in the multiverse and having a pleasant inter-dimensional chat with the original (and older) Reed Richards. All amusing enough, but there was no plot. Then in issue two, The Twist: it's not the Marvel Universe after all- it's another alternate reality just like it except that all the superheroes have become zombies. The communication was a trick, to let the zombies into the Ultimate Universe to feed some more. In issue three, they close the portal and prevent a zombie invasion. This doesn't feel exciting so much as feeling like it's clearing the stage for the next story and twist. It's a story which Mark Millar can feel proud about as he tells his friends what his clever plot twist is, but it's not a story that's good.

That's where I lost interest, so I can't say how current writer Mike Carey is doing. I don't usually care for Carey's work, so I doubt I'd be impressed. It should have built up rules slowly, adding in one or two new concepts whenever the writer ran out of stories and then seeing how those concepts played against everything else that had been built up. It should have been a series that started out simple and got progressively more and more complicated and interesting, which isn't really for kids but would sure have been fun. (There's no way Warren Ellis would have stayed on for more than twelve issues, and I think Adam Warren would have been the next best writer.) At this point that's not possible anymore, so I think the series should like UXM be cancelled posthaste.



At this point I think it's fair to say: The Ultimate Universe is a failure. In eight years it has failed to find its footing, and I don't think Ultimatum is going to change their approaches significantly. The "genetic war" angle is an interesting one, but the longer they wait to pay it off the less fresh it'll be. Already the Marvel movies have co-opted the theme, making it seem more like a staple of the genre and less like an edgy twist. I'm still interested in specific Ultimate comics. Ultimate Spider-Man is certainly going to continue to be excellent. And there are the occasional excellent stand-alone Ultimate miniseries, like Warren Ellis' somewhat-recent Ultimate Human and the infamously-long-delayed Ultimate Wolverine vs. Hulk by Damon Lindelof. I'm also cautiously optimistic about Mark Millar's new undertaking, "Ultimate Avengers", which won't actually be an Avengers book so much as an ongoing stream of big crossovers using whatever characters the writer feels like using. I think that's a cool idea, saying to a writer: "Here's the universe. Have fun. Just leave it somewhere cool for the next guy."

So here's what I'd like to see: Five or six Ultimate comics for Jeph Loeb, just to keep him away from the main universe. Ultimate Spider-Man, given the opportunity to do whatever it wants. And Ultimate Avengers, with unpredictable stories of varying length and scope. Just those three writers, and everyone else should write for the main universe.

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Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Beit Shemesh

Previously:
7.00
Many men were standing by the edge, all wearing black. They were yelling at a man in a nearby boat. It was a houseboat which he had built with his own two hands, and he was living in it. He was sitting back comfortably, reading a book and sipping lemonade.
An Endless Shabbat
What if tonight, a year of Shabbat began? No games, no music, no blog, no TV shows, no digital comics, no buying things, no forums, no programming, no job, no microwave. A clean slate, with nothing to put on it. For the first month or two, I'd be terribly depressed. Obviously. Maybe suicidal, yes. A person whose every opportunity has been snatched away permanently is not a pretty sight. To be sure, the first month or two would be the worst time of my life. But then I'd adapt. I'd have to.
The kharedim are simple people. They don't work, they don't expose themselves to culture. Walking into a kharedi community is always a shock, seeing how the local gossip and lectures on the radio are the two most interesting things they ever have. I once let a few kharedi kids play an extremely simple game on my Game Boy, and they'd never seen anything like it. Sad. Still, any kharedi off the street can get more joy out of learning Torah than I ever will. They have a different sort of life, one where I imagine they never think they ought to be doing more. Sometimes I envy them and their innocence.

Most of the time, I'm just scared of them. They all dress in identical black-and-white clothes. They live in identical white apartment buildings, and their streets are so uniform that I can't tell one from the other. A kharedi neighborhood is a seemingly endless forest of banality. And it grows. They violently shoo away anyone who doesn't fit their vision of the world. Women they don't find modest are harassed (and they've got a very broad idea of what's "immodest"), people who don't follow Jewish laws have rocks thrown at them. As I understand it, the Ramat Beit Shemesh area was originally supposed to be a mixed community. That didn't last long. As soon as the kharedim moved in, everyone else was forced to move out. And they spread. They marry early, have as many kids as they can, and continue to push their lifestyle further and further into our neighborhoods.

It's easy to forget they exist from our community. There are no kharedim around here, and it's only every now and then that we hear stories of violence against our people. Our people work, we entertain ourselves with music and movies and all sorts of things which would never be tolerated in kharedi society. Every Shabbat, we young types all sit and talk about the latest episode of Heroes. There are lots of programmers around, who talk to each other about all sorts of database-related stuff I don't quite understand. There are lots of people around with videogames. There are buildings painted in weird colors. It's not like this is paradise or anything, but we have… y'know. What to live for. We've got lots of interesting people, with clearly-defined identities, who don't hide everything that's interesting about them under conformity.

So if, in yesterday's election, there had been a mayoral candidate with a platform of "Get out, kharedis!", I would have voted for him in a heartbeat. That's the biggest concern- that by the time we rally against a kharedi takeover, it'll be too late. They'll have such an overwhelming majority in Beit Shemesh that our only options will be to turn kharedi, or move out. But there was no candidate for me, and if there were he couldn't have won.

There were three candidates. One was our mayor of the past 15 years, an incompetent and corrupt politician who knew how to play the game to get elected, but not how to be a mayor. He was running on a "The other candidates are worse!" platform. Then there was the kharedi candidate, who most of the rabbis had told their congregations they must vote for. (If a kharedi rabbi says to do something, their entire community does it, no questions asked.) And finally, there was the candidate whose campaign my mother was helping in every way she could, a guy who by all accounts knew exactly what needed to be done and was running on a slightly naïve "Let's all live together in harmony." platform.

So now we have a kharedi mayor. When my father heard the news, he jokingly asked where we'd be moving to. He's not wrong. Now there will be no one to hold the kharedim in their place. I don't expect to see anything happen in this city which is not specifically designed to appeal to kharedim. That means there will be no malls, no places of entertainment, but lots and lots of identical white apartment buildings. Beit Shemesh isn't going to be big enough to hold all the kharedim who'll want to live here.

I think it's time for our neighborhood to set a policy, that we will not accept any kharedim here. We need to make it clear that they will not be welcome here, as we would not be welcome in their areas. Because if one family moves in, and then another, then another, it's only a matter of time until they're the majority here. Just as they're apparently the majority in Beit Shemesh as a whole. For fifteen years we had a mayor too spineless to do anything against them, and now it's too late. They run this city, and it's only a matter of time before they drive us out of it.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I think I should keep my mouth shut about politics and social issues until.. let's say the end of time. Seriously, if I ever act like I know what I'm talking about with politics, refer me to this comment and e-mail me a virtual slap to the face. It looks like our new mayor's going to do an excellent job- he's already put the guy I voted for (who's his personal friend) in a very good position, even though he wasn't obligated to give him anything at all. And he's talked about preserving the status quo, diversity-wise. A referral and a slap, that's what I ask for.

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Monday, November 10, 2008

Reinventing the Artist

This game is not like my last one. Not "not like" like the piano music I'm working on now is not like other piano music I've composed, and not "not like" like the blog post I'm writing now is not like other blog posts I've written. The piece of music I'm working on now is not like the blog post I'm writing now- that's the sort of "not like" I'm talking about. "The Perfect Color" is not in the same art form as "Smilie", and the same principles do not apply.

For that matter, the third game I have planned will not be like the first two. And the fourth will not be like the first three. And the fifth will not be like the first four. (Assuming all goes according to plan, as God willing it will.) And the games I dream of making are complex, mixing all these art forms with other art forms.

And I can get there. Isn't that crazy? Imagine if I sat at my piano, and said: "From this seat, I will grow as an artist until I am a good architect!" That's essentially the nonsense I'm saying. I don't plan to use the specific skillset I honed on Smilie for years! The skills I'm learning now, I might not use again for even longer! And yet, I am sitting here with the audacity to say that this is a path before me, that this seat will lead me to things I'm not even training for. It's "The Sims" logic. Creativity points are creativity points, and they can be applied toward anything.

I am saying: the world can actually work that way.

This game is not like my last one. Smilie started from an idea of a character. I thought back to how animals acted, and how I might act, and developed that character in my mind. Then I used that to determine all the actions he would take, in order to create a game where his simple personality would shine through. This game isn't like that. It started from a philosophical principle, where I wondered how I could express that idea. I built up more and more rules in my head which reflected the idea, in order to create a game where that general concept will be clear.

And making this game is not like making my last one. Smilie was all planned out in advance, to the smallest detail. Planning is meaningless for this one- I never know what the game needs until I get up to it in the coding. I started out trying to write a script for it like Smilie's, and very quickly realized that it simply wasn't appropriate. Also, Smilie was a very linear piece of code. I don't think I could have written it any other way. But this code is all object-oriented and organized. And again, I don't see any other way I could be doing it.

The programming language I'm using is the same, but I'm using it to make two things which are worlds apart. The whole approach to rules and feedback and interactivity and how a message is conveyed is totally different, and I'm treating these like one leads to the other. Crazy.

Isn't that what Eliezer told me I needed to do? When I first started out at the Academy, he listened to what I was playing and told me it was too derivative. He told me that the best way to find my own voice, rather than just copying other people, was to turn to dodecaphonia. Throw out the tonality, force yourself to approach the music differently, and then there's nothing to fall back on. No imitation, no habits, nothing but your theme. In the end, I figured out how to apply my habits and imitations to dodecaphonia. But still. That piece isn't like anything else I've done. (Or it wouldn't be, if I'd ever finished it.) From working on that piece, I didn't learn any specific techniques I'd want to repeat. But I sharpened my creative mind, that's for sure.

But Eliezer was weird, I think. He reinvented himself going from classical to pop and then back to classical. He always listened to his improvisation partner and saw if there was anything he could use in it. I'll always remember when I came to him with the fifth variation, following a particularly dense Schoenbergian cacophony with simple tranquility. I'll always remember it, because I remember what he told me. He told me it was a revelation to him. Imagine that! That an accomplished composer, who has formed a lifetime's worth of habits and techniques, could stretch his mind to be inspired by an amateur's mess! Would a teacher who wasn't like that tell me to throw out what I'd learned, or would he just have me improve what I had?

Most artists and entertainers, in any field, dig deeper and deeper until they have no way out. They keep honing their craft until they see subtleties and nuances no one else would notice, finding innovation and greatness in tiny changes from the norm. Take the case of Will Wright. A brilliant gamist, to be sure! He made SimCity, he made The Sims, he made Spore (which I have yet to play, but certainly seems ambitious!). Anyone who's heard him talk knows that he doesn't take games lightly. To him, they're a way to explore everything he finds interesting about life (and a fascinating perspective on life he has!). He takes inspiration from science and popular culture and everything else he ever comes across. And yet, all this gets funneled into the narrow field of simulation strategy. That is his Form. He continually gets better and better at that one field. Each time he makes a game, he learns from what worked and what didn't, and applies those lessons directly into his next game. So he has become (without much competition) the world's greatest simulation strategy gamist. While he makes mistakes, he learns from those and moves forward. Deeper and deeper he goes into the potential of the tiny bit of land he owns, and I don't think he'll ever find a bottom.

I don't want to be like that. Gamism is so lost, in so many places. How can I limit myself to just one? It used to be, an artist would just pick one trade and get better and better at it. That's not enough for me. There's so much to do, so much that needs to be done! Settling into one Form, getting comfortable, finding its boundaries, honing my craft- that seems like the easy way forward, these days. So one kind of game (maybe movement) would be better off, and I'd be an expert on that. But what about the RPG? What about the metalude? What about the adventure? What about the exploration? What about…

My, my. I've become an impatient little phoenix, haven't I? Or maybe I've always wanted to be one.

I read an interview with Miyamoto recently where it was pointed out that his latest games -Wii Music, Wii Fit, Wii Sports- are not similar at all to the games Miyamoto's known for. Which is true. And it's pretty remarkable, isn't it, that at 56 years old he's still reinventing himself? He could sit and make platformers for the rest of his life, and we'd have platformers of such a level as we can barely imagine. But no, he's making music games and fitness balance games and sports action games and whatever the heck he's inspired to make today.

With each game, he says, he finds the core "ingredient" that's going to play well, and then tries to create a whole experience around that. So I guess, if that experience follows patterns he's familiar with, that's fine. But if it doesn't, then he'll throw his 30 years of game experience to the side and try something different. Crazy.

So I guess the question is, is this path reserved only for geniuses, or is there room for me? Is it possible to hone one's instincts, or do they have to be great to start with? Are there principles of art which can be moved from art form to art form, so that I really can get better and better at destroying and starting over?

Well, that's the plan.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

I think I have a very similar path ahead.

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Thursday, November 06, 2008

No work done.

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Monday, November 03, 2008

It's always more frustrating than I expect.

They need to move.
They also need to not walk through each other.

movement test.bmx
The circle moves at a changeable angle.
Type type type type type.
I'll put in obstacles.
Type type typey-type.
Type-a-type-a-Pace, pace. Type.
Run.
No, that's not right.
Fix fix.
Run.
Okay.
Pace, pace, pace.
It needs.
Pace,
It needs..
Pace, pace.

It needs to check to the left and check to the right, and keep checking 'til there's an angle that's not covered.
But first.
Type type type type type.
Run.
Um, huh.

Run.
No, that's not
Oh.
Oh, that's very wrong.
Fix fix fix.
Run.
Wrong.
Fix fix fix fix.
Run.
Wrong, wrong.
Erase erase erase.
Type type, type-a-type. Type type typey.
Run.


Consult help file.





Okay.
Erase.
Simplify.
It is now no longer what I want.
What the heck.
Run.
Okay.

So. Now it at least sees that it's running into something. And it won't do that.


What was it I was doing?
Pace, pace.

Oh, right.
It needs to check to the left and check to the right, and keep checking 'til there's an angle that's not covered.
Type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type.
Run.
Bl'bah!
Erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase erase.
Type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type.
Run.Quit.
Fix fix.
Run.

Quit.
Fix fix.
Run. Quit. Erase. Type. Run.

Why is it doing that? I didn't tell it to do that.
Read, read, read.
Here's the problem.
Erase.
Type.
Run.
Blah.
Leave.


Think, think, think.
Bounce ideas off Tamir.
Think, think, think.


I'm back.
Type type type type type type type type type Run!
What the heck?
No.
Read, read, read, read, fix.
Erase erase erase erase type erase.
Pace, pace, pace.

Eat lunch.

Pace, pace.
Type type.
Ah HA!
Type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type.
Huh?
Undo, undo, undo, undo, undo.
Stare at screen.
It needs to check to the left and check to the right, and keep checking 'til there's an angle that's not covered.
Oh, that's how this works.
Okay.
Type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type run.
No.
Fix.
Run.
Blah.
Fix.
Run.
Blah!
Fix.
Run.
BLAH!
Erase
Type type type.
RunBLAHtyperunBLAHtyperunBLAHerasetypefixBLAHBLAH
BLAHfixrun..
..sigh.
Sure. Good enough.
The circle's not knocking into stuff.


Now to integrate it into the game.
Type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type type.
Run.
Oh my god that is slow.
Fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix fix.
Oh my god that is slow.
Simplify simplify simplify.
Oh my god that is slow.
Okay, fine. It's slow. But does it work?
Good question.
Run.
Um.
Quit, run.
Well.
Quit, run.
No, it's not my imagination.
It's smearing across the screen.
Why is it smearing across the screen?
Read read read.

Read read read.
Run.
Why are you smearing across the screen?
Okay, simplify. It won't check as many angles for free spaces.
Slow and smearing.
Okay, simplify. It'll check even less angles.
Slow and smearing.
What do you want from me?
Okay, simplify. It won't check to see if it's bumping into anything.
Slow and smearing.
Okay, simplify. There's only one thing moving now. It's going to bump into everything. I hope you're happy.
Smear, smear, smear.
What does that even mean, "smear smear smear"? Just move and be happy!
Fine.
I'll simplify this to the point where it's not doing any of what I want it to do.
It's still not working.
Why is it not working?!
Pace pace pace pace pace pace pace pace!
wait
No.
Oh dear no.
It can't be that.
Type-type-type-run-WHAT?
IT REALLY IS oh wait.
The way I wrote it, it's going to get triggered whether or not my hunch is right.
Fix.
Run.
Oh, phew.. AAAAGGGHH!
It triggered.
It triggered.
What does this mean?
It means I messed up back there.
But I'm finished with that part.
I don't even really understand how that part works anymore.
I programmed it back at the beginning, and it made sense at the time, and I was proud of how I'd made this big complicated code which was the absolute simplest way to do that thing which seemed so obvious I didn't even need to think about it as I was planning the game.
It made sense. It was right!
Why must you trigger?

Forget it, I am not rewriting the foundation of my game today. Enough.

Blah, the whole day's gone by and what a waste. I haven't played a single game.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

For the moment I feel glad I am on the visual design side of this project.

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Monday, October 27, 2008

Purity

A few weeks ago, Nintendo released a brilliant movement game on WiiWare: Art Style: Orbient. It's six dollars, it lasted me many hours, and I'm sure I'll pick it up again every now and then. But beyond the value, it's a great game. It's not like anything else I've played before. You play as a planet, and the only way to move is by either pulling or pushing yourself from other gravities in the vicinity. You try to get smaller planets into your orbit, you try to get yourself into the orbit of bigger planets, and you try to absorb planets your size so that you get bigger. It might sound confusing, but once you pick it up you understand it perfectly. It fits the ideal of movement games, as I see it: it gives me a new kind of existence to experience, one that entirely revolves around the concepts of orbit and gravity.

Something that I particularly admire about Orbient is its purity of vision. There are no elements tacked on. There's no story, there are no cutscenes, there are no minigames, there are no boss battles. This game is a 100% pure movement game. They got 50 challenging, creative and distinct levels in without ever losing focus or breaking their own rules. This is a game where you start playing as soon as you go in, and keep playing as long as you're there, without ever having your time wasted.

This is surprisingly rare. Possibly the most acclaimed game from last year was Portal, a puzzle game which thinks it's a science fiction comedy action movement game. I recently played that on Eli's computer. I did have fun with it. But it's not a very intellectually stimulating puzzle game, it's not a particularly intense action game, its controls are too focused on functionality for it to be a good movement game, and its science fiction story isn't exactly on the level of standard TV. I'll give it the comedy, though- it was funny. See, that's the problem with trying to do everything: you end up achieving very little.



(The way to make Portal work, I think, would be to de-emphasize puzzles so that the game becomes complex, and then to take away rigid structure and have gameplay pop up however it serves the comedy.)

It's common practice to give lots of little subordinate elements lots of attention, without paying any attention to primary content. So I come across metaludes (The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass) and action RPGs (Okami) which put lots of effort into repeating gameplay systems but very little into plot. (Naturally, I have not finished either game and don't plan to any time soon.) And I come across… well, hm. I really don't play many games these days, do I. Well, I'll probably run into something similar next time I play a big-budget game of some sort.

In the meantime, I'll be playing Nintendo's upcoming Art Style games on WiiWare. Art Style: Cubello was surprisingly addictive and engaging despite its extremely simple premise (shoot cubes, connect four cubes to eliminate them), many flaws (including frustrating endings and a very confusing way of organizing the levels), and repetitiveness. I would curse the game for making me lose after a ten-minute game, and then head right back for more. The gameplay has problems, but it's fun and pure. It doesn't waste my time with random nonsense. I'm sure I'll be going back to that game over and over, just like Orbient. So Art Style games are pretty much "buy on sight" for me now. And anything else -even unanimously praised games like Portal or Okami- I need to take caution with. Most gamists just don't know what they're doing.

1 Comment:

Blogger Kyler said:

I think you would enjoy the Xbox 360 arcade title Geometry War Retro Evolved. It is simply you versus thousands of little shapes trying to hit you. No story, no levels, just an ever increasing difficulty. The controls are great, the graphics are exciting.

The only issue is the difficulty does plateau at roughly 7 million points, however that is also my highscore, so it doesn't really matter.

I found the sequel to it to be annoying because it did lack the purity of the original game. They decided to pack in 6 different minigames instead of simply perfecting the original.

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Thursday, October 23, 2008

No work done.

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Wednesday, October 22, 2008

All-Star Superman

Note: The first section was posted on 24/9.


There are few comic book writers held in as high esteem as Grant Morrison. He always writes big and outrageous plots, with aspirations toward being high-quality literature. He is praised for playing with continuity in clever ways, for expecting the reader to be intelligent, for demonstrating to the world how it is that a writer is meant to write. Listening to interviews with him, it's hard not to see why his work is so well regarded. He's deconstructing myths and messing with narrative structure and pushing boundaries and all that good stuff! And then I sit down, excited as a little kid, and actually read the thing.

And every single time, without fail, I find myself horrified at just how astoundingly bad his writing is. I have tried reading his Batman, I have tried reading his Seven Soldiers, I have tried reading his Final Crisis, I have tried reading his New X-Men, I have tried reading his We3. Without exception, every single issue I have read by Grant Morrison has struck me on almost every page as a mediocre story incompetently told. And I'm doubly frustrated, because it's supposed to be something wonderful. On the internet I hear nothing but praise for Morrison's work, and I recognize the ambition, and I say to myself, "I want to read something by that genius!". I fall for the hype no matter how many times I have been disappointed, no, downright offended by the quality of his writing.

So take the case of All-Star Superman. You'd be hard-pressed to find a more universally-loved comic book. It's won awards, it's dazzled critics, it's even sold well. Every review I see mentions that there's nothing that could possibly be said by a lowly critic which could adequately encapsulate the pure perfection that is All-Star Superman. They just released the twelfth and final issue, and already it's being called an enduring classic, one of the best comic books ever written, etc. etc. etc. And I desperately want to believe them, because as much as I'm comfortable standing out I enjoy a good story more. There really shouldn't be any reason to dislike it- it's considered the most accessible of Grant Morrison's work, after all. A timeless masterpiece, that's what it's supposed to be.

That's what it most emphatically is not, and yet even as I think back to the issue I just read a few hours ago (#1), I'm trying to spin it in my head into something I can admire. I had no such reactions as I was actually reading it. I got one, overwhelming emotion from it, the same one I get from everything Morrison writes: agitation. That was it.

Why did I even bother reading it? Because I said to myself: "Surely you're wrong. Surely you just haven't taken the time to appreciate it properly. Surely the brilliance is like that of Metroid Prime, which you only get to see once you've spent some time with it." And so I decided (with no irony) to read the entire series, basking in its brilliance, at the end of which I will be enriched and enlightened and understand that Grant Morrison is not a worthless hack after all.

I still intend to follow through on that commitment. So here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to keep adding bits to this post as I read through each issue. I'm going to force myself to endure the agitation to find the good that may or may not be there. I'll start by rereading issue #1 again, now that I know exactly what to expect (and therefore can't be as horrified as I was earlier today), later today.

When I read a story, I'm not concerned with the specific details of the plot. It's easy to take for granted when you read a lot of competent writing, but underneath all that is a sort of music which gives the experience value. There are crescendos and diminuendos, accelerandos and ritardandos. There are shifts in tone, and comfortable harmonies, and dissonance being introduced and then resolved. Everything that happens leads naturally to the thing to follow. I read a story because I want the experience of reading- I want to get caught up in the atmosphere and the emotions and the flow of the story.*
(I have trouble keeping track of too many details. So I don't enjoy reading prose, which tends to get bogged down in long descriptions. I find myself re-reading the same paragraphs many times to absorb them on even a basic level, which means I'm not getting the real experience. That's why I stick to comics, where all descriptions are visual and separate from the text.)


The series starts with what is possibly the shortest, most efficient retelling of Superman's origin story ever. It uses only four, unremarkable panels, each one bearing two words of explanation: "Doomed planet. Desperate scientists. Last hope. Kindly couple." The emotions behind this origin story have been played out many times, by many writers: a profound loss, a new home. Morrison is not interested in that. The four panels, as I said, are remarkably unremarkable. The first planet shows Krypton's city from a distance, so you shouldn't get a sense of its grandeur (and care about its destruction). The second panel has Superman's parents' faces obscured by an unfortunately-placed shadow, so that you shouldn't get a good sense of their emotions and humanity. In the third panel we see the alien-looking exterior of the spaceship rather than the baby within. In the fourth panel we see two strangers discovering the baby in the moment of initial shock rather than any moment of acceptance.

The issue's title is appropriate. Grant Morrison is telling the story quickly, while refusing to pause at any moments that make the story worth telling. This is plot without the music.

The set-up of the issue's plot is similarly concise: There are a bunch of people in a spaceship by the sun, the evil Lex Luthor has somehow gotten a monster on board to sabotage them, and Superman happens to be nearby to save them. There is very little explanation of what they're doing by the sun, there is no explanation at all given for why Superman's there, and as far as I can tell there's no conceivable explanation for how the monster got there. All this I respect. It doesn't really matter how it all got that way, it's just a big space story of the sort Superman does everyday. What does matter, and what completely undermines the potential of the scene, is that Morrison takes away any possible reason to care about the scene. The people in the ship, we are informed, were artificially "grown with zero fear genes", and the one person there who can be scared proclaims: "Fear is the sauce on the steak of life!" So the creation and resolution of tension, like you'd get with a musical cadence, is absent.

To add insult to injury, the panel placement pretends it is going for an emotional reaction, by making the panels increasingly lopsided. But then, on the very next page, as I was expecting a continuation of the cadence, it sticks a perfectly centered big panel of one of the aforementioned emotionless people. It's like Grant Morrison (and his artist, Frank Quitely) knows I'm expecting emotion, and is deliberately preventing it. "Here, have some emotion- whoops, none there! I didn't think you'd be a sucker enough to actually try to care! Ho, ho." On the other hand, it might not be malicious at all. He might just have no sense of how to tell a story.

Because if you're not going to put emotion in, then what's the point? The point of having Superman save anyone is to get a progression of emotions: a build-up of tension as the villain sets up his plan, a climax when he seems to be winning, then relief when Superman shows up, then increased tension when Superman fails temporarily, and resolution when Superman saves the day. But enough about this. You're an intelligent person, you know exactly what I'm talking about. So let's move on.

When Superman flies in, there is a zoom-in not on his struggling face, but on his chest's "S" symbol. This, in a nutshell, is how Grant Morrison thinks of Superman and the rest of his characters: they are not people we should care about, but archetypes to be pondered. No one in the issue is given any believable motivations. For instance, here is main villain Lex Luthor, explaining why he does what he does: "I'm getting older and… pauseand he isn't. So if I want to die happy, it's time to get serious about killing Superman." That's the motivation on top of which (I imagine) a large portion of this series is going to be built- petty and implausible jealousy. I've seen jealousy played more convincingly in comics from the 60's. But again, Morrison isn't interested in making you care. He's just hitting all the expected notes as quickly as he can.

..and then he tries to make up for it by being confusing and pretentious. Which I guess must be pretty hard, considering how simple the plot is. He must really work hard to seem "intellectual". He cuts away from the space scene -jarringly- before it can reach any emotion. (This had me shouting angrily at the comic.) And then the creators demonstrate their brilliance by somehow managing to make a simple journalism scene into something almost unreadable. The dialogue is deliberately unclear, and whereas most writers would use visuals to complement the text and make it clear what's going on, here the pictures focus on things that are completely irrelevant to the story. It has someone talk from off-panel, then shows someone who is not the speaker. They're talking about something ambiguous, and then there's a zoom-in on something they're not talking about. It's like a deliberate effort to confuse the reader! And even after that, some of the dialogue just doesn't make any sort of sense to me. Try this line: "I'm right here with a heart that's true." What the heck does that mean? This is the way Morrison has his ordinary people speak, so that we should be confused and disoriented and say "Wow, Grant Morrison must be so clever this is going right over my head!".

And the pretentiousness I mentioned? Well, when the story finally gets back to the rescue, the monster starts spouting: "You have no right to limit my ambitions, fascist! No right at all to stand in the way of my self-realization!" It's the sort of thing that might seem like some deep criticism of society unless you think for even a second about what it's trying to say, and realize there's nothing there.

The rest of the issue isn't even pretending to be trying to be pretending to be doing anything. It's pointless stuff- artificial superpeople, people turning against Lex Luthor, Clark Kent being clumsy, all without any hint of music to it. And then there's one idea, which I take it will hold the whole series together, and it's a good idea. If you gave it to a master storyteller like J. Michael Straczynski or David Mack or Jeff Smith, you'd have one heck of a story. In the hands of Grant Morrison, I find myself wondering why anyone would care. The idea is that Superman is dying. And the reason this is utterly pointless (except as a way to get to the next part of the mechanical plot) is that we never get a sense of how Superman feels about this. Is he afraid? Is he confused? Is he angry? Is he depressed? No, he's just Superman. An archetype, a little action figure Grant Morrison is moving around from plot point to plot point.

The issue ends with Superman revealing his identity to Lois Lane. And since this ought to be an emotional moment, of course we don't see either of their faces as it happens. We see more inanimate objects and symbols. The next issue could start with the huge outburst of emotion you'd expect to get from a moment like this. But I'm not counting on it.

Cool, I was wrong!

This issue is a charming little dance between Superman and Lois Lane. It's very simple, and it's played perfectly.

The story has Superman taking Lois Lane to his Fortress of Solitude, and the two of them hanging out there. The previous cliffhanger, where Superman revealed his secret identity, is played in an unexpected way that absolutely meets the hopes I had. Basically, Lois doesn't believe him. The issue starts there, and ends with Lois confronting Superman and being shocked by what she finds out. So there isn't a huge range here- it's all shades of distrust. What makes the issue work -and I imagine it must have been harder to write than it seems- is the slow build-up. You see Lois gradually get more and more scared and paranoid as the issue progresses, making the story feel dynamic and engaging even though it is all resolved in one image at the end with no consequence.

The Fortress seems to be an endless well of creativity. On almost every page, there's at least one new idea thrown in, the sort of big idea that other comics might use once per story arc and call it a day. To give you an illustration of what I mean: Lois comes in her car, which Superman carries on his back across the world. The Fortress is just a huge mountain with a little S-marked door, the key to which is tiny but super-dense so that only Superman can lift it. As they walk in, they are greeted by a group of friendly Superman-robot butlers. As they service Lois's car, Lois and Superman keep walking while making smalltalk about Superman's latest adventure with Batman. The ideas only get more fantastic from there on.

Interestingly, Lois isn't dazzled by any of this. She has apparently been Superman's girlfriend for a while, and takes all the craziness for granted. But it's clear that she doesn't really understand Superman, she never knows what he's thinking or what his intentions are. She keeps surprising Superman by misunderstanding his gestures. They're the most bizarre couple, and I think it's great. I always love seeing two worlds knock into each other, and that's exactly what this is.

Having the issue be about distrust is a good way of illustrating the relationship in emotional terms. The way the plot creates this distrust is by introducing a room Superman doesn't want Lois to go into. Lois is disturbed by this, and we get ominous narration: "But now we come to the part of the story of my life where things go wrong." It's clever, actually- the narrator seems to be all-knowing, but it's lying to the reader. It's a way to get us to buy into Lois's paranoia, irrational as it might get. Of course there's nothing remotely dangerous in that room, and Superman has the purest of intentions. But who am I to disagree with a narrator?

So there's this rising level of paranoia, as I said, increasing with everything Lois sees, until she attacks Superman. In one page all suspicion is then resolved, and on the final page we see what was in that mysterious room: It's a birthday present for Lois, and it's the coolest present ever. Just the sort of out-there thing you'd imagine Superman would get his girlfriend. (Though I wouldn't have thought of it.) And that's the cliffhanger for the next issue.

So I have now read an excellent issue by Grant Morrison. I wonder what the next one will be like.

This is a direct follow-up to the last issue, in much the same spirit. It's about Lois's birthday, and for some reason she's got it in her head that the best way to spend that birthday is to tease Superman by flirting with other guys. Y'know, just for fun. My understanding is that Morrison's basing this on the themes and spirit of old Superman comics. So I think it's probably a reflection of how the original writers felt about women in general. What I see here is that Lois Lane is no less an archetype than Superman. She's not just a woman, she's a symbol for women in general, as seen by a bunch of male writers who don't understand them.

As the birthday takes a detour thanks to a reptile invasion of Metropolis, two superheroes pop up and instantly fall in love with Lois. While Superman just wants to have a quiet romantic day with Lois, these two propose a challenge to decide who should get to spend the day with her: "It's simple. We'll each of us perform a super-feat of strength in honor of Lois Lane. The most incredible feat wins her company."

I wonder what a more fun writer like Jeff Parker would have done with this silly set-up. I can just picture it: each page is a different competition, each one more ludicrous than the last, with Superman always doing best but still always failing to capture Lois's heart. And then the pages run out, there's some sort of punchline, and nothing's resolved. Most likely the old Superman comics were something like that, in which case maybe I should seek out old Superman comics.

What Grant Morrison does is less fun and less classic, but it's not bad at all. He's dealing with Superman's jealousy, his fear of losing Lois (which comes out in a standard life-or-death riddle). And in one moment, he even gets in the more-subtle idea that Superman is jealous of the men Lois will love after he's dead. Bravo. Still, there's a lot of idle teasing between the characters and not a lot of substance. The actual competition is just two pages toward the end, really. It's an arm-wrestling match. Guess who wins.

We're seeing it from Superman's perspective, from which it seems like a bit of a wasted day. Lois's party is skipped over entirely, and by the time Superman has Lois alone and is trying to have a real conversation, she's fallen asleep. Ah, women. You just can't talk to them. But still, before she falls asleep Superman does get his full-page kiss with Lois, so I guess it was all worth it.

This is good old-fashioned storytelling, with no fancy gimmicks at all save for two bizarre panels that mess with the flow of the reading. I could overlook these if the first weren't the end of the main plot and the second weren't the end of the issue. Oddly enough, they both use newspaper headlines to imply plot points. The first one I've read over and over and I still can't make heads or tails of it. So when I read this comic, the three-way competition feels unresolved even though the story jumps forward from there. The last panel of the book is a punchline, of sorts, but it only works if you know that Superman has X-Ray vision and think back to an earlier throwaway scene and connect that with another throwaway scene. And even when you recognize the joke, it adds absolutely nothing to the story and just distracts from what should be a more resonant final page.

Grant Morrison obviously can tell a story. This has been two good issues in a row- that doesn't happen by accident. So for most of this issue I was wondering how he could be so clearly competent, when I know from issue 1 and other comics that his storytelling tends to be a mess! The end of the issue gives me the answer I was looking for: He loves feeling clever. If he sees a chance to do something "sophisticated" that only a handful of readers will understand on a basic level, he'll always take it. Even if the alternative, which would be clear to everyone, would work better for the storytelling! (I'm guilty of similar self-indulgences. For instance, I wonder if anyone but myself would derive any meaning from "In Darkness".)

The two panels are nitpicks, really. It's a good, if unspectacular issue.

I've never read a Jimmy Olsen story before. I hope I don't read a Jimmy Olsen story again.

He's a collection of negative characteristics: He's arrogant, obnoxious, perverted, whiny. For his newspaper column, he takes insane risks, and then expects Superman to show up and save him. (He always does.) Here's a line that pretty much sums him up: "Doomsday! See, that's the kind of excitement I need for my feature!" And he's not being sarcastic there.

After all of Lois's hostility, and now Jimmy, I wonder when Morrison will get around to giving us a character who isn't a simple jerk. Well, at least there's Superman. As unapproachable as he is, at least he's a good guy. I can still feel sorry for him when these awful people take advantage of him. So of course Morrison turns him evil.

The rest of the issue is about fighting a mindlessly destructive Superman. (yawn) Who talks like this: "You and they point dumb gun at me! Say bye-bye hand!" Seriously, that's what he says. I couldn't make up something this stupid.

By the way, this is the point Morrison chooses to finally give Superman some clear emotion about dying. -------
Me am die now? No die! Me scared…
He waits for the moment where you can't relate to the character on any level to stick in an emotion you might want to relate to! Crazy.

There's really nothing else to say about this issue. It's a waste of time.

Oh joy, another annoying character.

Morrison wants us to laugh at Luthor. Ha ha, that stupid villain. So he sets him up as a straw man. In the first two pages, we're told that he thinks of Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan, Al Capone, and Adolph Hitler as "heroes and role models", he tells us that he's been evil because "Superman made me do it.", and he's given the death sentence. And we're meant to cheer.

But only an idiot would cheer. His character is painted in terms that are so artificial, so blatantly designed for the specific purpose of being broken down, that the denouncement is utterly meaningless. It's like a schoolyard bully laughing at a kid for nicknames which the bully made up himself. In other words, it's pathetic.

For comparison, there was a scene in Dan Slott's She-Hulk series where he had the title character denounce Iron Man. Up to that point in the story Iron Man had been painted as charming, well-meaning, professional, respected, etc.. But She-Hulk lists his offenses and tells him he's become a fascist dictator! That moment had power, because there was something there to break down. Iron Man's a hero character, a guy who's been built up as a man of some integrity and idealism. He's a character which many fans (myself included) were still rooting for every step of the way. So when She-Hulk eventually beats him up in her righteous anger, it means something.

Lex Luthor is a house of cards. It is made very clear that he has no achievements to his name, that he is despised by all, that he has not a single thought less flimsy and shallow than the most insufferable teenaged girl's whining. And then Grant Morrison sets up a plot which exists for one purpose: to convince the reader that Lex Luthor is a moron. Cue rapturous applause.

Clark Kent visits Luthor in prison, writing up his thoughts for an article. So we get page after page of what you'd get if Lex Luthor (God forbid) made a blog: "Oh, Superman's so horrible. He makes life not worth living. I'm the greatest guy alive, did you know? Not like that Superman. They all love him, that pretty boy. But he's a poopy-head. I'll rule the world. Superman. Superman." And then a monster breaks out, so that Morrison can get to the bit which he thinks is oh-so-clever: Clark Kent discreetly saves everyone with his powers, while Lex Luthor obliviously continues to bad-mouth Superman and do nothing. Ooh, a metaphor! Fancy.

There are two clever panel layouts here. I'll give them credit for that.

But the writing is just sad.

When I sat down to read this, I was feeling a bit sick. I'd left the games night early, thinking it was almost over, only to learn later that there'd been more games after that. So I was disappointed about that. And I was particularly grumpy, since I'd just had to clean up some puddles of Fudgie's vomit (after accidentally stepping in one).

I'm telling you all this so that my biases will be clear. I was hoping this issue would be bad, so that I could have the fun of writing up this post in a particularly angry manner. But this issue is a classic. So far I'm not seeing any reason for this series, as a whole, to be remembered. But this particular issue, separate from the rest of the story, I hope they're still reading many decades from now.

Normally I wouldn't spoil this, but it's right there on the cover and in the title: This issue goes back to the day Jonathan Kent, the man who adopted Superman, died. It's mostly disconnected from the larger story of the series, which is good, because it means I can recommend this issue without recommending the series as a whole. The Superman here is still living in Smallville, still helping out on the Kent's farm and still a relatable character.

The story keeps cutting between the human and the fantastical. From Jonathan Kent's humble thoughts, to Superman flying through space with his superpowered dog. From the young Clark Kent hanging out with his friends and considering his future, to Superman teaming up with a bunch of "Supermen" from the distant future to fight a time-travelling monster. The purpose of these juxtapositions is made clear on the last two pages: first we see six Supermen all from different time periods, making grandiose implications about Superman's long-lasting legacy. And then the last page is a single moment in time- Superman at his adoptive father's grave.

This comic paints all the Superman comics which have ever been written, and all the Superman comics which have yet to be written, as Jonathan Kent's legacy.

And I find that interesting, because there's really nothing special about the guy. From what little we see of him here, he seems like any other random guy. He's proud of his son and he thanks God for his blessings. That's pretty much all the characterization he gets here. We can't really tell from the scenes he's in what his values are. But we see his humility, and that's the important thing. Apparently that quality rubbed off on Superman.

This is unrealistic, I think. Jonathan tells Clark at the beginning of the issue that he was a gift from God. Now, I can see Jonathan's humility there, but I think Superman's most likely to get an over-inflated ego from remarks like that. A Superman who thinks he's God's gift to the world would help no one but himself.

But still, I see what Morrison means to say and I do like it. It's a really good issue. Again, it's simple. But more so than the other issues this says something worthwhile about Superman comics in general.

Morrison only uses one of his trademark disorienting transitions here, and while usually they only serve to confuse, here it's used for dramatic effect. Superman flies toward his dying father, yelling: "I can save him! I can save everybody!" And then we cut to him standing over his father's coffin in the funeral.

And then for a two-page spread he speaks of Jonathan Kent's values. This is a good choice. For Superman's story, it doesn't matter who Kent actually was- it just matters what Superman learned from him. So we get characterization from Superman's account, and the actual man is left more or less a cipher.

An inspired comic, this.

Page 1, panel 1. Oh, some abstract purple thing. Hello, abstract purple thing! Wait, is that a face on it? It seems it is. Is it a creature? No, there are bricks all over and there seems to be a pillar going straight through its stomach. Or is that a stomach? Maybe that's its neck. Seriously, what is this thing?! Is that fabric, dangling from its middle? Ah well, I guess Quitely (the artist) will get out of this extreme zoom-in for a wider view, and then it'll be clear what the heck it is I'm supposed to be seeing here.

Page 1, panel 2. Two people are in a vague cockpit-ty area which seems to be disassembling itself. One talks about "bizarro technicians" and "micro-singularities". The other says "Thrilling, isn't it?", and I'm glad he did because frankly I had no idea. And then he says they need to be "scaled up" or they're gonna die. Or something. He helpfully refers to the abstract purple thing from the first panel (at least, I'm guessing that's what he's referring to) as "one of those bizarre structures". Thank you for clearing that up. Apparently this is Surrealistic superhero comics.

Page 1, panel 3. Oh good, a slightly wider view! Now I can see it so clearly, it's a... a.. a. What is it. It's a sort of purple thing. Is any part of this thing the thing that I saw in panel 1? No, it's no- wait! I see a little pink speck in the right corner! That must be the thing in panel 1! It all makes sense now! The dialogue tells me that this is the underverse. I always wanted to see what that was like. I think I'd like to go home now.

Page 1, panel 4. Ooh, an even wider view! I can see the whole abstract purple thing now. It's obviously origami, with some sort of zombie limbs coming out of it. It doesn't look anything like panels 1 or 3, so I guess those were the other side. Or something. There's the Earth behind it, in all its purplish glory.

Page 2, panels 1-4. New scene. Good, I was getting bored of that one. This one's much cooler, with Superman in space fighting some sort of abstract… black… thing… Or is he fighting? It looks more like he's just sorta floating there, until he leaves. Good thing there's no dialogue- this is so cool already, dialogue would be overkill.

Page 3, panel 1. Why is Superman scared, as he looks back at the abstract black thing? Actually, maybe he's not. That look could just as easily be friendly. Oh, how sweet, the abstract black thing seems to be waving goodbye! On second thought, the last page might have been Superman hugging the abstract black thing. He found a friend.

Page 3, panel 2. Superman looks forward with a blank expression. [sniff] It's so beautiful!

Page 3, panel 3. Planet.

Page 3, panel 4. Planet.

Page 3, panel 5. Monsters.

Pages 4 and 5. Earth-cube. Oh no, Superman! Don't fall onto the Earth-cube!

Then it switches scenes. The Daily Planet guys hang around and talk about the true meaning of Christmas. Then a bunch of monsters fall from the sky, they touch them, it sort of has this zombie-ish infection thing where anyone touched says "Me am Bizarro!", a Superman monster shows up to kill people and says indecipherable gibberish like "Want all you am no want Bizarro!", the Daily Planet guys act annoying, there's babbling about "planet eaters" and "infra-matter" and it just goes on and on and on dear God it never ends!

This is crap. This is complete and utter crap from cover to cover. Grant Morrison should have been ashamed to write it, and Frank Quitely should have been ashamed to draw it, and the DC editors should have been ashamed to publish it.

Reading this issue is like sitting in a microwave. Reading this issue is like clawing out your own brain with a toothpick through the ear. Reading this issue is like eating an entire dumpster and its contents in ten minutes. This isn't just bad, it's ambitiously bad. I could almost believe it's intentionally painful. And you know what that would make this? Still crap.

Here is the plot: Superman is stuck on a planet of morons. He meets a copy of himself who is intelligent. Superman gets the morons to work for him and escapes. The End.

There's a passable metaphor here, the idiot monsters symbolizing the people of Earth. And I do feel a bit sorry for the Superman-copy. But that's not enough to justify spending twenty-two pages on one gag. There's lots of talking and padding, and very little story.

That's all I have to say about that.

Two new characters are introduced here, Kryptonians who've taken over running the Earth while Superman was stuck in the silliness of the last issue. Presumably the title is referring to the way they are clumsily written out in the last third, and they're meant to represent all the other decidedly-temporary replacements for Superman over the years. That makes this the third title in the series to suggest that poor storytelling choices are deliberate, after "…faster…" and "Being Bizarro". (That last one possibly implies that we're meant to understand from the insanity of the reading experience what it's like to be insane.) But it doesn't really matter one bit what the intentions were- stupid is as stupid does, y'know?

Regardless, this is very good. Thematically this is following directly from the last issue: the new Kryptonians see themselves as being above the lowly humans, and think Superman is disgracing himself by lowering himself to our level. It also ties in with most of the earlier issues in one way or another: there's Superman's jealousy of these "replacements" mirroring issue 3, there's the whole Daily Planet cast, there's a return of the Fortress of Solitude from issue 2. That last bit deserves special mention. Continuing a gag from that issue, the Kryptonians were able to lift the key to the Fortress and let themselves in. That's cute, and I like that Morrison's making the replacement more personal. It's one thing to take over a job, it's another to take over a home. In the end, though, I don't think he did enough with it. The unwanted guests didn't do anything particularly destructive while Superman was out, so it doesn't feel like much of a threat.

Speaking of which, their power level is really played up at first. They use Superman as a punching bag and do all sorts of crazy, Superman-y things. And then in the end they suddenly and awfully conveniently go blind and weak, so that we can get to the inevitable ending. Morrison plays their farewell for some emotion, but I think it's the wrong one. He emphasizes the two characters' love for each other, when he should really be giving us a reason for casting them away. He should have emphasized their character flaws in the end, made those their undoing, so that we could see how Superman is better. Y'know, twist it into a statement about Superman, rather than a random story about two characters we don't really care about. What he does do is repeat the idea of Superman's human-taught humility, refusing to impose his will on others. There are a few good exchanges between the two sides on the subject.

Any problems I have with this issue are nitpicks. It's very good, it's clearly told, it's got plenty of emotions, it's got a few excellent layouts.

I'm surprised by how often I've been saying this, but this is excellent. Committing fully to the dying Superman story, this shows what Superman does in one of his last days on Earth. He saves lives, he gives hope to the hopeless, he gives an entire civilization purpose. And all I do with my day is entertain myself.

I love the way this is told. It's totally nonlinear, jumping backwards and forwards through the day wildly with little captions saying what time it's jumped to -------
7:02 AM…11:25 PM…10:25 AM…12:01 AM…4:35 PM…11:00 AM…1:36 PM…
, but it's not intrusive. You don't need to pay attention to what order the events happen in. The story works well even if all you understand is the vague sense that it's not linear, because each plot thread makes sense on its own. What the nonlinearity adds is that Morrison can jump back and forth between stories as is dramatically appropriate. I think the difference between this (which I enjoy) and issue 1 (which drives me crazy) is that none of the scenes absolutely need to be followed up on. There aren't scenes where what's going on is unclear, there aren't any especially tense scenes. So I never minded putting a scene down for a minute, though I didn't know if I'd see it again.

There's one particular use of nonlinearity that I found so impressive, I'm going to single it out. As Superman talks to Lois in a straighforward scene, two small single-panels are inserted, set later, where Superman reacts to what was said in the conversation. So you have a clear causality at work, even though there are hours between the cause and the effect. The future panels are smaller than the others, so that their separation from the main flow of the scene is visually obvious. And it's made even less confusing by the fact that both panels are continuations of other plot threads which were already introduced. But I think there's a principle of storytelling here that could be applied more generally, still without causing confusion. A self-contained one-panel comic can add interesting commentary without being intrusive. (Everyone has time for a single panel, even if it comes in the middle of something they're more interested in.) The writer needs to be careful to have the separate panel add something clear to the story. But anyway.

The different storylines (by my count, there are nine) unfold as the issue progresses, with one in the center- a story that ironically takes less than a second from start to finish. It is that story that provides the climax of the issue, which all the storylines feel like they're building toward. I will not spoil the moment, because it's very clever, but it basically reaffirms Superman's importance to the world.

There's also a little visit from the future, when everyone speaks in a language derived from internet acronyms. That makes me shudder every time I read it, because I'm not sure it's not possible. Anyway, I don't really see what the point of it was so I'm assuming it's setting up the next issue.

This issue exists so that Grant Morrison can move the pieces around the board to where he wants them to be in the finale. The most exciting thing that happens is Superman in a costume that obscures his face fighting alongside a bunch of robots and the possibly-friendly black thing from issue 7 against a space robot possessing no motivations who no one could possibly think would accomplish anything. Also, Lex Luthor gets superpowers. Sure, whatever. The issue is redeemed by Quitely's artwork, which makes everything look much more exciting than it actually is.

It ends how you'd expect it ends. Superman easily beats Lex Luthor, surprising no one. He sacrifices himself for humanity, surprising no one. He doesn't really die, also surprising no one. Morrison gets in a few more incomprehensible scenes, surprising no one. And finally, it should come as no surprise that in the end, there is no point.

In the first issue I didn't care about any of the characters. In the last issue, I still don't care about any of the characters. They're paper-thin stereotypes, intentionally left unrelatable to the very end.

There is a surprising amount of good stuff in the series (though not in this issue). Morrison is apparently capable of telling stories that aren't pointless and annoying. But it's just not worth sifting through all the crap to find it.

3 Comments:

Blogger John Silver said:

Thanks for a pleasant read. :) Some of that stuff could actually have made it into the rant machine - the idea of you shouting angrily at a comic book was really funny. :D Keep up the good work.

Blogger Kyler said:

Have you ever talked about Watchmen? I haven't read many comic books before it and am finding it immensely enjoyable.

 Mory said:

Sorry, I've never read Watchmen. I'll get around to it some day.

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Friday, September 19, 2008

No work done.

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Sunday, September 14, 2008

The Garden: Exploration

There is an environment which the player may walk through and observe. When this exploring is the dominant element of an experience, you've got an exploration game.

The primary content of an exploration game is world design, which is to say the aesthetic or intellectual value of a virtual environment. There are many genres of worlds: forests, urban, abstract, fantasy, horror, etc.

The pure (computer) exploration game does not, to the best of my knowledge, exist. I know it can exist because I've had some satisfying exploring in the real world, where the exploring was the whole point. But in gamism so far, exploration is used only as a subordinate element, or at most one of several dominant elements in a complex Form. Some games have such vivid worlds that you could probably remove everything but the world and the interface and have a good (short) exploration game, but it should be emphasized that this would not be the same experience as playing the original games. I guess it'd be like listening to the soundtrack of a movie.

Anyway.

Since it's so uncharted, the best way to understand exploration games is to compare them to other Forms which we are familiar with. Most importantly, exploration games are closely related to architecture, landscape design, and other such visual arts. (I think the theoretically ideal exploration gamist would be an architect, a sculptor and an animator.) The difference is, a game has no limits. Real-world creations are restricted not only by the laws of physics but also by the limitations of real materials, the costs, and overall functionality. An exploration game does not have these limitations unless they are self-imposed. There is nothing preventing a gamist from placing a magnificent palace with melting and regenerating walls on the back of a moving horse.

With that sort of artistic freedom, what is it that it inherits from architecture? Well, there are infinitely many (or if the interface is restricted, at least many) ways to view an environment, and all must be taken into account. It can be viewed from different angles, it can be viewed at different times of day, it can have many random elements wandering around which a good designer can account for to some extent. So a good world or piece of architecture, as opposed to a more easily grasped medium like paintings, is a work which continually reveals new facets of itself, and can keep surprising the viewer for a very long time. For that reason, an exploration game is not meant to be played once and then discarded. It is meant to be returned to over and over.

Enough about architecture. It is also close, in structure if not purpose, to the movement game. They both revolve around the simple act of moving. The difference is, in a movement game the moving itself is the point. In an exploration game where you're moving through is more important. If that world is compelling, how you move through has less importance. But these two Forms are intertwined, because you can't really have one without the other. If you are moving, you're moving through someplace. And if you're moving through someplace, you've gotta be moving somehow. The question (for classification) is which is dominant and which is subordinate, and that question isn't always so easy to answer.

It can be useful for the world designer to consider what avatar(s) he is building the world for. An endless series of beautiful mountains might not be so suitable for a human, but what if the player is playing a bird? And the concept of scale changes very much if the player is playing a baby or a giant. In such cases, it's nice to have good controls but hardly critical- the avatar is there to give context, not content. In fact, the avatar (as it is typically thought of) is not a necessary ingredient at all! The gamist might wish to give the player an "objective avatar", who either moves like a person (as though the player were actually walking through for himself), or more abstractly.

Much like a painting, an exploration game can indirectly tell a story. This makes it similar to adventure games (by my "future" definition), which are similarly predetermined experiences. But the presentation is different. In order to present a story as part of world design, it needs to be complete from the start. The player chooses in what order to experience it, but otherwise is not connected to its progression. If he were given more choices which effected the outcome of the story, the game would be an adventure and not exploration.

Taking a self-absorbed plot (even a good one) and putting it into a carefully-crafted world is not good storytelling for an exploration game. If an exploration game is telling a story, that's secondary content. The primary content is still world design, and an appropriate story will call attention back to that. It can add an intellectual layer to the aesthetic one, where you can sit and think about what the arrangement of objects around you is meant to symbolize in relation to the story.


Now that we've got a good idea of where exploration stands, let's take it on its own terms. What can world design be made out of? There's the obvious walls and structures and abstract shapes. There can also be plant life. (Climbable trees are always welcome!) There can be animals and people, either static for the effect of a photo or in motion. A marketplace wouldn't be complete without buyers and sellers! For that matter, a marketplace isn't complete without buying. And in that spirit, there's no reason not to have mini-games where they are called for by the world. Certain surfaces call for movement mini-games, certain environments call for interaction mini-games.

The progression between room doesn't have to be literal. The room next door could actually be the same room, but in a different time period. Or it could be an entirely unrelated place. If a doorway acts as a "portal" between areas, that's a world-building technique rather than a literal plot point. And it doesn't have to be a doorway per se- hallways are more gradual ways of shifting setting, for instance. Or the player might as well be given a button which switches between areas. Old-fashioned ideas of how things connect to each other don't have to be used at all, or can be actively subverted.

Reaching an area the player is already familiar with is comforting. When he walks off in a new direction and stumbles onto somewhere he is already familiar with, suddenly a more complete model of the world is created in his mind. If he goes too far without any point of reference, he may get disoriented and want to backtrack to somewhere he knows. Placing large areas which intersect with many paths makes a world seem less foreign, because it ensures that the player will loop back on those areas many times and construct a better model in his head.

A world could theoretically be a straight line, in which case the little details need to hold up the game on their own. The maze is the opposite extreme: a world whose entertainment value comes entirely from trying to find your way forward. In the middle ground the player can both entertain himself finding a path, and be given art wherever he goes. That way he can be engaged in both the short-term and the long-term: The staying power of exploration games comes from nostalgia and wanting to see things from new angles, but searching for shortcuts and routes to specific places is fun right from the start. The attempt to navigate is entertaining in itself, an experience which contains elements of perception and memory.


When gamism expands to interface directly with our brains, the exploration game will give us worlds which are fantastically vivid but fundamentally indistinguishable from the real world. It will give us not just sights and sounds but also smells and atmospheres. We'll be able to touch the things around us, see how they feel. We'll be able to take other people there with us and show them around, we'll be able to bring in other activities like books, to enjoy in the environment. Some people will essentially live in virtual worlds, to replace the costs and space limitations of real housing. But regardless of how they are used, that level of immersion is what exploration games strive for.

Droplets: Exploration

The player shifts back and forth through two possible futures. Or the houses of two different people, who started from the same spot. Or a society which keeps rebuilding itself almost instantaneously, as new people come in. Or the player shifts between reality and an abstract symbolism. One spot does not have to be one spot- it can be many spots, all covering the same space.

A real-time exploration game in a fictional real-world area. There is no avatar, and you can follow people around as they go about their daily routine.

Exploring a single, frozen moment of time.

An abstract representation of a person's personality. (Possibly a real person the gamist knows. I am not thinking of anyone in particular, though.) Exploring the world lets you get to know the person, in the sense that your feelings toward the world mirror the gamist's feelings toward the person.

Exploration by association. Clicking on an object (or person, or idea) brings you to an environment which represents that thing, and clicking on any object there will bring you to yet another environment. This is exploration serving the purpose of character development, where each new environment shows you more of the character's worldview. (Actually, this idea disproves what I said about exploration necessitating movement.)

An exploration-construction hybrid. The player explores a vast but somewhat empty area, and adds to it however he likes. He experiences the world he is given by using it.

A world which keeps growing. Worlds within worlds. The smaller you get relative to the world, the more you perceive explore-able detail in tiny elements. Eventually you find a tiny object which grows to be the original environment, so the loop is complete.

M.C. Escher-inspired worlds. Gravity is not a constant, perspective is not a constant, objects become environments and environments become objects. You know what would be especially cool? An M.C. Escher-inspired adaptation of Alice in Wonderland!

Simulations of real places. This might actually exist already, since it's an obvious idea. If it does, I haven't seen it.

A 4-dimensional world. Don't ask me how it'd work- I've never been able to wrap my head around 4-dimensionality.

Static political commentary, for comedic effect. You wander around a vast, nonsensical representation of how the gamist thinks his political opponents see the world. This world could be accessible via the internet, with new sections being added continually as the news happens.

Movements, like in music. Each movement has a very specific ending. It's clear where it is, but there are many ways to get there. Each path is fairly nonlinear, but two separate paths from the beginning will very rarely cross over with each other. When you get to the ending, you find yourself in the next movement. Each movement represents a different set of emotions, and each path through them is a different variation on those emotions. So every time you go through the game you get roughly the same sequence of emotions, but each time through can be a new experience. (Unless you want to do the same path you've seen already, of course.)

1 Comment:

Deirdra said:

These are the sorts of games I'd design if I'd devoted more time and formal education to visual art than to programming and writing. As it stands now, however, they are also the kinds of games I'd love to play. I can already think of many games already in existence that I loved solely because of their architecture. (The Neverhood is one in particular that comes to mind.)

It's also worth mentioning that I myself have had a similar idea to what you termed "exploration by association", only with words rather than objects. Think of a Wikipedia into a character's mind. I'm thinking of actually doing one of these sometime... might be a fun exercise.

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Wednesday, September 10, 2008

The Marvel / DC Comic Rivalry

Warning: This post deals with superhero comics. If you are not interested in superhero comics, read on at your own peril!


American superhero comics are almost all published by just two companies. Both Marvel and DC have big "universes" where all their characters and books can cross over with each other. They both dress their characters up in bright spandex and have them punch each other often. They both have noble heroes doing the right thing and insane villains with dastardly schemes. They both have long-term soap-operatic plotlines which twist around in all manners of convoluted ways. (I love all this.) On the surface, they're really quite similar.

But much has been made about the two universe's differences. The DC characters are perfect, the Marvel characters have flaws. The DC Universe is more likely to have zany things happen for no particular reason, the Marvel Universe is more grounded. The DC stories are set in fictional places like Metropolis and Gotham City, while Marvel stories are set in real places like New York City and San Francisco.

Some people might say that these are the reasons I read a ton of Marvel comics but very few DC ones. I've got a simpler explanation: Marvel comics are usually good, and DC comics are usually not.

There isn't really any fundamental difference between the two companies. Statistically speaking, you'll find slightly more reality in Marvel. But to every generality about either universe, there are many exceptions. Marvel has perfect characters like Captain America and Thor, while DC's most famous character (Batman) still whines about his parents. Marvel often has wacky nonsense happen, and DC often has grounded character bits. I don't think there's anything that would fit in one universe but not the other.

So what is it about Marvel comics that has me hooked, when almost every DC comic I've read has left me cold? It's the people involved in making them.

It's not like you can't tell a good Batman story. Look at The Dark Knight- what a fantastic movie! And yet, the current Batman comic is all about Batman hallucinating. And take Superman- he's such an iconic, provocative character, and no one can find anything interesting to do with him!

I'm not going to place all the blame on DC's writers. (Well, I am going to blame Grant Morrison. He can't tell a story.) I can't say for certain how much is bad writing, and much is editorial meddling.

Take the case of Kurt Busiek. He's a wonderful writer, whose enthusiasm for superheroes comes across with everything he does. They put him on Aquaman, a character who's rarely interesting, they gave him an ambiguous set-up he had to use (where Aquaman isn't really Aquaman), and he was still knocking it out of the park. He was doing a whole big fantasy epic underwater, and I was riveted. And then after just a few issues it all fell apart, lost all focus, and Busiek left for Superman. See, I can't say that that was all Busiek's fault, because I know from his Astro City comics that he usually knows where he's going and follows up on it. Anyway, he then took over Superman, and for a little while it was terrific. First he lost his powers, which was fun. And then it got into the whole question of whether Superman makes society too reliant on him, and seemed to be promising big pay-offs. And then it lost its way, started telling random stories that didn't add anything and didn't quite work on their own merits. And he quickly resolved everything and left for another comic. Which I read a few issues of and got bored.

No, really, he is a great writer. Astro City is terrific, where he creates a whole superhero universe with lots of good stories and no bad ones in sight. His series Marvels, presenting the history of Marvel comics from the perspective of the average person in the Marvel Universe, was also terrific. So he's capable of better. I blame the editors.

Or take Sean McKeever. Perfect example. He was writing for Marvel, and the quality of his comics went between "decent" and "spectacular". He wrote an Inhumans miniseries, making a bunch of alien teenagers relatable without making them less alien, and then he wrote the Mary Jane (later renamed "Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane") series, whose characterizations were complex and realistic but always relatable and engaging. Then he signed an exclusive deal with DC, and since then "decent" has seemed out of his reach. It goes from "disposable" to "horrifyingly bad". He was given Teen Titans, which seems perfect for him. But ever since he started, there's been barely a hint of the quality he used to be pulling off often. From what I understand, much of the stories he's writing are dictated to him by his editors, and he doesn't even get final choice of who's on the team. (Granted, I'm only getting a reader's perspective. So I could be totally off.) And they're just unbearably grim and silly- there was a very minor internet controversy about the last issue, which had two characters eaten alive by a dog.

Now, Marvel's editors are hardly perfect. The stunt they pulled last year with Spider-Man -having him literally make a deal with the devil in order to shift his status quo back to where it was in the 70's- did not impress me one bit. That came entirely from the editor-in-chief of Marvel. The only difference is, there are actually excellent stories after that. Not stories which couldn't have been done without the quasi-reboot, but still. Excellence. And if there are excellent stories being written, then the editors must be doing something right.

See, DC (like Marvel) has lots of big things happen. Usually things which don't last six months, which I'm sure will be the case with Batman losing his mind. But still, big things. And once they happen, there still aren't any really good stories being told. And if you're not going to have that, then what's the point?

4 Comments:

Blogger John Silver said:

I'm not a fan of superhero comics, but I get the impression you're allowing yourself some too broad generalisations (as well as some oversights; I'd argue that Superman, not Batman, is the most famous DC character).

I have difficulty understanding how Marvel comics are more realistic. Perhaps some of the stunts may be a little more grounded, but the premises are invariably beyond ludicrous. How do you get laser-eyes through evolution?? (In fact the whole of X-men is so outlandish I can barely read them). Not that DC is a monument to plausibility, but the premise behind Batman is still much more credible than that behind any Marvel character.

Overall I agree that writers should be let free to work on their material. But as someone who doesn't read much of these comics, I've got a question: what about Alan Moore and Frank Miller? They've worked for Marvel and their names tend to get thrown around pretty often. It's quite surprising to see they've got no space at all on this post.

All the best mate.
JS.

 Mory said:

Marvel comics are not, as you say, significantly more realistic than DC. There are tiny elements here and there which are more like the real world, which Marvel's editors like to bring up. (Their slogan is "Your universe".) For instance, you have George W. Bush showing up every now and then, while DC has a fictional president. Stories often take place in "real places", at least in name. And the fantasy explanations for superpowers are more likely to pretend they have something to do with real science like genetics or radiation.

But yeah, none of that is particularly significant. Whatever you call it, comic-book science is fantasy. And as for the real places, Marvel stories often take place in fictional countries like Wakanda, Attilan, Madripoor, Latveria, etc. etc. As I said, I don't think there's any real difference between the two universes except who's writing and editing them. Superman could be a Marvel character and Spider-Man could be a DC character.

On reflection, I don't know who's really more famous, Superman or Batman. I guess the word I should have used was "popular".

As for Frank Miller and Alan Moore, um, what about them? They're hardly major presences in comics these days. They do their own thing, which is usually too vulgar for my liking. Frank Miller is writing an out-of-continuity Batman book where Batman is a raving psychopath kidnapping Robin and killing people left and right and cursing at everyone: "I'm the goddamned Batman!" It's sorta amusing, but mostly pointless. And Alan Moore's last major work (a few years back) was porn. (I don't plan to read that.) Neither of them have anything to do with the two big superhero universes, except in the sense that they wrote influential stories a long time ago.

Anonymous said:

It's not that Grant Morrison can't write a story.

You just can't read and understand one.

Paul said:

You have to be a complete MORON to think that Marvel is better than DC. Almost all of their characters are ripoffs from DC. Avengers: Justice League. Hulk: Solomon Grundy, who actually predates the "Hulk" by more than 20 years. Next time you write such a STUPID story, make sure you have your facts straight.

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Friday, September 05, 2008

No work done.

0 Comments:

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Friday, August 29, 2008

Okay, this is going nowhere. I put more restrictions on my computer, and still I find endless ways to not work. Clearly I've got to go back to the punishing system, under which I was actually getting things done.

I have very little done so far. I've got a roughly half-complete model of how it'd work in my head, a small portion of which I've put to virtual paper. I don't think it will be necessary to write out the plan ahead of programming as I did with Smilie, so this isn't a problem. As for the actual programming, I've made a working version of the formula the whole game will revolve around. Thanks to Tamir for filling in the bit of math I was having trouble with. Anyway, it's a really simple formula which should have taken me roughly ten minutes to program. That's all I've got.

The next step is to construct a simplified mock-up of the gameplay. It will not be fun in that state but it'll get me to figure out how the actual game needs to be programmed behind the scenes. (I can't draw on experience, obviously.)

So. Starting Sunday, I get serious. No excuses.

For now, though… back to the excellent Stargate: Atlantis. I might just catch up in time for the third Stargate series to start.

2 Comments:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Best thing about SGA; The best character is Canadian :)

It's been so long since the strike I'd totally forgotten that new shows were actually going to be produced again. Yay.

If you need any help with programming or design, let me know btw. I love that sort of stuff.

 Mory said:

There have been six episodes of SGA's fifth and final season already. It's nice to not have to worry about spoilers anymore. Anyway, Atlantis will end with its 100th episode and then a few months later Stargate: Universe begins. There will never be a lack of entertainment. Atlantis will continue in DVD movies alongside SG-1. Speaking of which, I agree with you about Ark of Truth. It is bad.

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Sunday, August 17, 2008

Just let me win already.

That was a fun episode. Okay, time for bed. You know, I could watch another one. No. Why not? Because it's time to go to sleep. It couldn't hurt to watch one more. You've already watched five! So? You're hopeless. You're annoying. You need to get to sleep, so that you're more likely to work tomorrow morning. I'm not likely to work in any case. Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn you would be! Go away. Go to sleep. No. No. No. I ought to set more restrictions on the computer. Oh, don't do that. I will. No you won't. Blah.

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Friday, August 08, 2008

The Plan

  1. Smilie
  2. The Right Color
  3. The March of Bulk
  4. Angles & Circles
  5. Next Door
  6. Through the Wind
I'd better get to work.

0 Comments:

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Tuesday, August 05, 2008

:)

Smilie

A game by Mordechai Buckman

8 Comments:

Tamir said:

Well done! It's fun to play.

May it be the first of many. =)

 Mory said:

I hope people who play this game and don't enjoy it have the courtesy to tell me.

Blogger Kyler said:

I can't say that I didn't enjoy it. Very impressed. Let me play it a few more times and think about it a bit and I will come back with more thoughts about it.

Blogger John Silver said:

Hey Mory. It's not that I didn't enjoy it, more that I didn't understand it. It did bring a smile to my face for a second, which I'm not sure whether is meant to be the irony of the thing or not. But when it was over I was kind of wondering what the point was.

At all events, a first try was this? Well done then, and I second the best wishes. :) (the smilie is not ironic :D ).

Mr. Polly said:

Nu... what's your development platform? Java?

 Mory said:

John Silver: The intent of Smilie is no deeper than it appears to be. There's no irony here, no intended message. It's just something I wanted to make. Actually, maybe that's a message in itself. You can certainly read all sorts of things into Smilie, if you really want to. I think certain aspects of its personality are like me.

Eric: I programmed it in an obscure language called BlitzMax. It's a version of BASIC specifically designed for 2D games. It's not all that far removed from QBasic, which I've got some nostalgia for. I don't particularly like learning new programming languages, so years ago I intended to make games in Visual Basic 6 like I used to. But you wouldn't believe how hard it is in VB to get DirectX to rotate a silly little 2D image. It's actually easier to deal with 3D! So the main appeal of BlitzMax for me is that I can just write "SetRotation(45)" and have it rotate whatever it draws next by 45 degrees. It's refreshing. But I also don't feel like the workings of the program have been taken out of my hands, since I'm programming the main loops and the backbuffer flips and all that myself.

On the other hand, it's a bit buggy and has irritating quirks with how it deals with variable types. So I'm not sure I'd recommend it to other people, but I like it.

Blogger Kyler said:

Well after playing it some more here is a link to my review. Smilie

Yakir said:

Well, I've joined the ranks of people who have experienced Smiley.

I find it intriguing.

Like real life (sometimes), you find yourself in an environment with no instructions. You just have to experience it and experiment a bit. You find yourself wanting to play it more than once -- you are motivated to compile a body of results to help you to feel that you understand what is going on and why. You find yourself trying to understand what makes the Smiley react in certain ways and you even find yourself wanting to get it to smile. Why?

There are elements at work here that I think could be interesting components of a game of broader scope.

Cool!

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Saturday, August 02, 2008

Not Alone

I saw a guy standing behind a tree, out of sight of his group.

I called over:
"Hey, what're you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Hiding?"

"I guess so."

"Don't like crowds?"

"No."



"Do you have Asperger's Syndrome?"

He looked astonished.
"How did you know?"

"Because I'm like that, and I have Asperger's Syndrome.
Really! That was just a crazy shot in the dark.
"

"I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to be truthful, because I'm genuinely curious:

Do you like videogames?
"
"Yes."

"I have a theory, that there isn't anyone with Asperger's Syndrome who doesn't like videogames."

"It's a solitary thing, and it's a way to vent frustration. That's probably why."

"So what's your thing?"
He thought about it.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do.

..Violence.
"

"Goodbye."

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Thursday, July 31, 2008

Late-night thoughts, none of them new

I'm not like them! I'm not like you!

I've got ideas. I've got, I've got

Hey, where are you going?

Stay. I want to argue.






Phooey.


I don't need them. They won't let me argue.

They think it's bad to be outspoken and alone.

Who needs them? Some day I'll meet a whole

group of people with Asperger's!

Yeah.

It's gonna happen.

Any one of these days.

"Aspies" like games.

So if I make my own games, and they're not like anyone else's, and people are put off by how not what they're looking for they are, and I put a piece of myself into the games, and they stand up to the world and shout "I am great, because this has never been done before, and there's no reason you shouldn't do it too!" and if they have genuine enthusiasm for what they're doing, then the "Aspies" will all come to meet me.

I don't need normal people!
I can hang out with people like me!
I can talk to people like me!

Or this wall here.



Does anyone want to play with an adorable character given life?

It won't try to impress you.

I won't try to sell it to you.

I won't try to engage you.

I won't listen to you.

I don't care about you.

Play my game.



I see it there.

It winks at me: "I am here, just waiting to be made!

"I will shine like the stars in the darkness!"

And it's so close.

So close.

Only a few more pages left.


I spent the day working.

I wanted to get closer.

May the emptiness drive me.

I don't like programming, all the logic and little details.

It's a chore.

It's a form of hell.

But isn't that work I did just fine?

Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?


Isn't it?

It isn't, is it.


Why am I talking. It's just me and the wall.

No, it's me and myself.

I am not…

Please come back.

I want to argue.

It's just me and myself in here.

I love myself.

I hate myself.

I have potential.

I am a lazy bum.

I have ideas.

I talk and talk and when the time comes to do






I spent the day working.

They say there are few things more satisfying

They're wrong.




I'd like to go back now.

I have other worlds.

Is it just me, or are they more real?

I didn't play any videogames today.












The seventh day will be satisfying.

Though of course it won't be.

Please come back.

I'm not like you.

Let me tell you who I am.

Let me tell you where I'm going.

I have an answer now!

I don't need you!

Please come back.

Please?

Monday, July 28, 2008

No work done.

6 Comments:

Tamir said:

And here I was starting to think I'd never see what these autoposts look like.

Keep up the good work, even if it's kinda illogical to say that in response to a post like this one.

OpenID stone_ said:

I wanted to comment on "The Garden Needs Pruning", but I didn't the comment button.

Your future of Adventure games sounds like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" Book done on a DVD. I think this sort of "Game" has already been done too.

I'd love to see a game with live actors to interact with, and not idiot NPCs or idiot MMORPG players. I don't think it's at all feasible/sustainable for a game though.
I guess it might be similar to running a role playing campaign just online. Maybe with volunteer roles, or a just a gaming gourp coming together and receiving roles and information to play with. It would depend heavily on the game group, but most things do.
Kind of like the whole Murder Mystery evenings, but online.

OpenID stone_ said:

Or maybe like limited "God" games like Democracy (http://www.positech.co.uk/democracy/)
where all you do is decide on policy and laws, and watch how your decisions play out on your populace

 Mory said:

The comments are after the second post, just as they always are with "The Garden & Droplets" posts. I guess "The Dynamic Interface" not being explicitly named "Droplets: Adventures" threw you off. But it's not a standard G&D.

"Choose Your Own Adventure" are absolutely a kind of adventure game. Just not very good ones, because the interactivity is so spread out and uninteresting. The interactivity is a gimmick rather than a proper artistic medium, so it's very similar in its approach to text adventures and can have the same criticisms applied to it.

I'm not familiar with Democracy, but it sounds like a strategy game. I don't see how that's similar to an adventure game.

I don't imagine the ideal future of adventures would appeal to you too much. You play games as a way to apply yourself, and that's not what adventures should be about. When an adventure gives a lot of freedom to do whatever the player want, it feels vaguely-defined and pointless.

 Mory said:

It occurs to me that what I said might be seen as offensive. It was not intended to be.

I don't like reading novels. I don't find them satisfying, with all their little descriptive details and their consistent presentation and their rigid linearity. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with novels, or anything wrong with me. It only means I don't like reading novels. It would be lovely if everyone could enjoy everything, but that's not the way personal taste works.

OpenID stone_ said:

Democracy is a kind of strategy game, but it seems similar to how you are describing the interaction level in Adventure Games of the future. The difference being that you are following the wellfare of a nation instead of an individual or a group of individuals. But you are right in that it is not story driven, it's decision driven.

I guess one way of looking where you want Adventure games to end up is which of the following you want it to be:

1) _I_ want to go on an adventure
2) I want to help Fred The Adventurer on _his_ adventure
3) I want to join with Fred and grow and adventure _together_

Eh... this isn't really thought out well. It's 3:30am and I wasn't able to sleep...

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Sunday, July 27, 2008

The Garden Needs Pruning: Adventures

(Please note: I have relatively limited knowledge on this subject.
If I am in error about something, please correct me in the comments.)

PastPresentFuture
The game presents a block of text, the player responds by typing a simple text command, and the game responds with another block of text. When this interface is the dominant element of an experience, you've got an adventure game.

The primary content of an adventure is no more or less than the dialogue between player and program. In that sense, it is similar to chatterbots, which I'm not sure how to classify. The difference is in the player-program relationship. In an adventure game, they are not equals. The program outputs paragraphs of carefully crafted pre-written text, to which the player responds with just a few words.

These words are typically a verb and a noun, for the sake of practicality. "go south". "take key". "drop sandwich". "open door". "examine chair". That sort of thing. Sometimes only one word is needed. "look". "north". "inventory" to check what you're carrying. The interactivity is just enough to give the sense that you are participating in a piece of prose. Then the program reacts. If the writer anticipated the action, then the story will be effected and continue. If not, the program will say it doesn't understand.

Once you have that back-and-forth, what do you do with it? What is there for a player and a program to talk about?

There's the world, for one thing. The player can explore the scripted world by moving from place to place and examining everything he sees. The writer engages the player with the creativity and detail of these surroundings.

Or there can be added rules, of some sort. (Rules can always be put anywhere.) A monster with hit points to fight with. A trap which will pop up and hurt you at random. A magic wand to cast spells with.

There can be characters to interact with.

You can collect stuff. This was typically tied together with everything else, where what you're collecting are points, and you get points by doing just about anything. Or you might have to collect physical objects, where you can't proceed past a certain point unless you've taken everything.

There can be games of perception, where the player needs to notice little details in the environment.

Wow, that's a lot of things to talk about. Anything goes, as long as it inputs commands and outputs lavish prose. And all these things combine to make a rich experience, where the player feels he is participating in the dialogue in a meaningful way. And the more you surprise him with new kinds of gameplay, the more he's impressed by the interaction.

The adventure game is closely related to the original role-playing games. So closely, in fact, that it can be seen as a direct descendant of that discipline. In a (non-computer) role-playing game, the game-runner talks and talks and talks and then the player responds simply with what he would like to do. So the adventure is essentially a role-playing game in text, with the game being a pre-scripted program rather than an intelligent person. (This connection is not meaningful with computer role-playing games, which have evolved in a different direction.)

The adventure game is a weak Form, because the player-game dynamic -which is the purpose of all the interactivity- cannot change significantly from game to game. Every adventure game is a showcase for nearly the same interface.

That interface is pretty cool. Which is why adventures were pretty popular in the 80's. But the adventure Form never aimed to go anywhere past where it already was.

The novelty eventually wore thin. The fact that the player was influencing prose was no longer enough of a draw for that to be the dominant element of the experience. So adventures got a new definition:
PastPresentFuture
PastPresentFuture
There is a world to explore, and puzzles (predictable rule systems) to solve. There may also be games of interaction, perception and/or collection. When these elements are present and dominant, you've got an adventure game.

This is a textbook example of a complex Form. And the primary content of a complex Form is story.

Well, there's a lot of stuff there to tell a story with. A world in which to set the story, puzzles with which to advance the story, characters for the story to happen to and around. Collection (theoretically) serves as an incentive to keep going in the story, and perception… okay, I don't know how perception games fit in. Ah! They give you what to do while you're waiting for the story. How elegant.

Though interface is not particularly relevant, adventure games are commonly classified by their interfaces. This is perhaps a hold-over from an earlier way of thinking. "Text adventures", also commonly called "interactive fiction", use the old-fashioned text interface. Anything with graphics is a "graphical adventure", though that is split up further: "Point-and-click adventures" have you control… you know what, this really doesn't matter.

Let's move on to categories which do mean something: actual genres. The adventure, like all other complex Forms, is a strong Form, because there can be many kinds of stories. So there are the comedies and the fantasies and the science-fiction and the dramas and the horror and the mysteries.

And let's stop on that last one for a bit. Mysteries. Where you look around and act clever but sociable to get clues which you can use to figure out who did whatever was done. If you look at the adventures that have been made, an awful lot of them have been mysteries. Many which seem like other genres are actually mysteries in disguise! And even those which genuinely aren't mystery stories tend to have little bits of mystery all over in them. And why?

It's because with a mystery story, the adventure Form actually makes sense. There's a world, setting the tone and context for the crime. There are puzzles, demonstrating the cleverness of the detective. There are people to interrogate. There are clues to collect, which require careful observation. In short, there isn't anything in the gameplay which isn't perfectly suitable for a mystery story.

The format isn't particularly suitable for anything else, though. Having a big world to explore doesn't make sense in a thriller or a romance or a comedy or a drama- it distracts from, rather than adding to, the human emotions of the piece. Having to notice small details keeps you distracted from the bigger picture you'd want in a fantasy or science-fiction story, and it doesn't add any emotions either. Having puzzles which demand to be solved puts a speed limit on pacing.

So while adventures are capable of any kind of story, they're only good at one. Any standard adventure which is not (to some extent) a mystery is less than the sum of its parts, because no matter how good the gameplay is it's all in the service of a story that can't be told well.

There are two ways gamists get around this. One is with the old gamistic cheat that is cut-scenes. You don't know how to tell your story with the elements you've built in, so you take away all interactivity for a few minutes and tell your story as a movie.

The other way is to make one element dominant over the others, so that the adventure becomes a simple Form. Maybe you can't tell a good story with adventures, but you can design a good world or good puzzles or good characters or good… um, hiding places for collectibles. So if you just focus on that one element and make that one element good, then the whole game will be good.

Unfortunately, that doesn't work so well. The extra elements which have attached to the adventure as a part of its evolution do not suit exploration games or puzzle games. It does not suit a game of exploration to limit significant areas based on how far the plot has progressed or how clever the player is at predicting rules. It does not suit a game of rules to require you to wander around aimlessly. It does not suit a game of perception, along the lines of Where's Waldo, to be so darned complicated that kids can't enjoy it.

The types of games included do not fit together with each other, and they do not fit together with the focus on story. A puzzle-driven adventure can't be as good as a dedicated puzzle game. An exploration-driven adventure can't be as good as a dedicated exploration game. A perception-driven adventure can't be as good as a dedicated perception game. Almost all the parts of the adventure Form are being held back by being in this context.

The adventure game is broken.
PastPresentFuture
PastPresentFuture
There is a pre-scripted story which progresses when the player makes choices. When those choices are the dominant element of an experience, you've got an adventure game. Its primary content is the pre-scripted story.

That may sound simple. It is.

The difference between a pure adventure and a non-interactive story is that the progression of the story is directly tied to the player's involvement. That means the player controls pacing, and the player controls which of several (or even many) pre-written directions the story should go in. He controls these things on a macro level and a micro level, and it makes for a distinct kind of experience.

The player is presented with things he can do. Just having those options to begin with, and having specific carefully-chosen options, already creates all sorts of emotions in the player. They change depending on context: In a conversation, for instance, options will typically be limited to lines of dialogue. In a usual adventure only one character is playable at a time. So the player is given options which are relevant to that character in the current situation. The player can't jump around unless the writer thinks it makes sense for the character to jump around.

When the player uses a certain option, however that option is presented to him, the game will react by continuing the story in a way fitting to that choice. Then the player can feel a small sense of ownership over the story, even though he doesn't have total freedom in the game. He can also experiment with different options, where the effects on the game environment tell him something about the story.

The adventure is similar to rule systems in that respect, but there aren't really any rules. If you wanted to stretch it, you could say adventures are rule system games where the only rule is "Whatever the writer says, goes." and the player's trying to anticipate what'll happen next.

The story can be presented in any fashion. It could be text, or something like a movie (or an actual live-action movie), or a comic book, or even a musical! Any sort of non-interactive entertainment goes. Take any one of those, and add relevant (but small) interactivity throughout, and you're using the language of adventures.

If the player has too much freedom, then the experience of using that freedom takes precedence over the pre-scripted story and what you have is no longer an adventure. And if there is not enough freedom, that's not an adventure either. So the adventure is like the "missing link" between the old, passive experiences and the new, active experiences. It can get strengths from both sides: Vivid characterizations, but where you get to stand in the person's shoes. Carefully crafted plots, where you can still feel pride or guilt over how it turns out. Empathy, but with a personal investment. An experience crafted with the writer's instincts but tailored to whatever the player's mood is.

Any genre of story is possible, and indeed all could thrive. Mysteries will never go away, but there can also be romances and thrillers and provocative science-fiction and escapist fantasy and insightful drama and interpretations of moments in world history and politics and live-action opera and short poetry and whatever else you can think of.

Adventures have so much potential!
PastPresentFuture


The Dynamic Interface

How can adventures evolve? I wrote this two years ago:

What I'm most interested in are dynamic interfaces- interfaces which change depending on what's going on. This would be easiest to pull off (and most effective) on the DS, so let's say this is on the DS. The idea I thought I'd post a minute ago would have been a hybrid interface, with movement on the D-pad. But now that I'm writing, I figure, why not go the whole way? So everything's done by the bottom screen.

On the top screen is the 3D gameworld, shown in cinematic camera angles that turn around as necessary. (The player has no direct control over the camera.) The bottom screen is covered with buttons for contextual actions ("Exit, Talk to salesman, Hop Up and Down while Singing 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra'") pictures of key objects in the vicinity (a screwdriver, a stereo, a lit dynamite stick, a purple cat hopping up and down while meowing "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"), and/or a few (as few as the designers can get away with) consistent buttons like one for opening the inventory. Pressing on one of the pictures moves the camera to a better position to see it (like zoomed in real close while the cameraman jumps up and down to the tune of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"), and maybe some new buttons will appear (For the stick of dynamite: "Hit with hammer, Stuff in Stereo, Eat, Ignore, Run Like Heck, Go Back") and maybe even a little textbox will pop up with the player character's innermost thoughts! (For the stick of dynamite: "Hmmm.... what is this? I've never seen a thing like this before... Nosiree, I've never seen anything like it... I have no idea what this is..." and a button marked "Ponder Further")

See, the beauty of what I just said is that I haven't really said much of anything. There's lots that the designer could put in, but nothing that needs to go in! Since this is a "dynamic interface", the designers get to put in whatever is most dramatic/funny/effective/reminiscent of "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" for whatever's going on. If you're outside, then the designers could put in a top-down map, or buttons for all the buildings nearby, or a signpost, or a little rhythm mini-game of skipping forward to the tune of..never mind. And just think of the amazing possibilities there could be with an ever-changing interface!

Emphasis
For my first example, let's say the designers (like any good, righteous, "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"-fearing adventure designers) are passionately in love with pixel-hunting. They wouldn't mark out the objects- oh no!- Then they wouldn't be able to give you the fun of finding them yourself! So instead, they'd put buttons (or pictures) for each of the locations objects might be hidden in (Top Shelf, Middle Shelf, Bottom Shelf, Left Shelf, Right Shelf, Floor next to Shelf, Underneath the Shelves, Behind the Shelves, On the Ceiling above Shelf, Inside the Unscrewed Knob on the Left Side of the Middle Shelf, On Top of Shelves Examined Under Microscope), each one turning the bottom screen into a 2D representation of the area for you to enjoy yourself pixel-hunting in. Now, if the player has been searching for the brilliant hiding spot (the third black dot to the left on the front of the bottom shelf) for a reasonable amount of time (seven hours) and is still too pathetic to find it, the merciful designer can have the game start to eliminate the buttons that lead nowhere (or, if he feels like having some fun, the Bottom Shelf button), to point the player in the right direction.

My second example assumes that the designers are godless evil simpletons who shamelessly want to spell out how to push the story along. Some of the items in a room will be important to the story and are obviously important to the character (say, his pink bunny slippers. This character is obsessed with his pink bunny slippers.), while other items are only there to flesh out the gameworld a bit more. The buttons (or pictures) for the most crucial items could be bigger or placed to attract attention on the bottom screen, so that the player (if he is the sort of mindless bloodsucking drone that these evil designers worship) can play through the game quickly if he so chooses. (Bah!- free will.) Or if there was an item which the player ignored before, but now has become crucial to the plot, it could get bigger to attract attention. Or a button could start out big, but get very small once the player has already seen it so it shouldn't distract.

Characterization
Similarly, some characters are extremely important (the hero's girlfriend), while others are not (the hero's wife). The button to go talk to the girlfriend (or join her in hopping up and down to the tune of Thus Spoke Zarathustra) should be bigger than the wife's button, so that the player always understands what the character's priorities are like.

Let's say our hero is having a conversation with his wife (dialogue would also, obviously, be handled on the bottom screen), and really should be telling her that he sort-of-accidentally allowed her beloved purple cat to be blown up. This would be a pretty big button, since it's weighing heavily on his mind. Naturally, the player will try to push it, but whoops!- the button hopped over to another part of the bottom screen. Try to push it again, and again it hops as our hero puts off the inevitable. Eventually the button may try to hide under some other "excuse" buttons, or jump to the top screen where you can't reach it, or something like that. Now that's drama!

(When talking with his girlfriend, half the dialogue choices would be truly pathetic and half almost-intelligent, and the buttons would be sort of wavy and shake around, so that it's hard to press on the right one.)

Pacing
If you're inspecting the scene of a crime, the game should move slowly to let you figure things out, take notes (on the handy-dandy bottom screen), etc. And by "slowly" I mean "slowly". It shouldn't be rushing you onwards or reminding you that your wife is outside carrying a club. The trouble is, the player is the one in control of the progression just as much as the designer. A dynamic interface can be used to encourage him to slow down. Let's say that since the beginning of the game the buttons have been hopping around, there have only been a (relatively) few buttons, and those buttons were often pretty big. Now you walk into the scene of the crime, and suddenly you've got no movement controls, no hide-from-wife controls, but twelve pictures of pieces of evidence (or red herrings) all given equal space in a four-by-three grid. In addition, everything is given narration by the character in a textbox at the bottom of the screen. As soon as the player sees all this, he understands that he's meant to go slowly.

On the other hand, let's say in the next scene he finds out some urgent news. (His wife is driving home to rip his fluffy pink bunny slippers and smash his record of Thus Spoke Zarathustra!) Let's say the designer is staying away from timed sequences- how can he indicate the urgency and speed up the game? Simple- he takes away all buttons but the "Run Like Crazy Back Home" button, and has that button take up two-thirds of the screen, hop up and down urgently and flash. (If that doesn't get the player's attention, maybe it could have an obnoxious sound effect like a siren combined with a French Horn.) As he runs back, he'll go through many areas he's been to before, but the buttons will (at least mostly) be missing: What difference does that third black dot to the left matter when the music (and the fluffiness) is in jeopardy?! It doesn't matter that there's no time limit- the player will run home (because he doesn't have any other choice) and won't really feel too cheated. (Because he understands that buttons can appear and disappear at random, and because -overall- this isn't too long a scene.)

These are two extremes, you understand- I'm not saying it would ever have to be so exaggerated.

Symbolism and Other Gimmicks
When you can play around with the layout of the interface at will, you can do all sorts of nifty stuff. Have you ever read David Mack's comic book Kabuki? No, I didn't think so. Oh well- that was a good example of the style I'm talking about. How about Bill Willingham's Fables?- That did stuff like that occasionally... Never mind. Okay, let's say you're in a garden, and you want to hit the player over the head with the word "flower" because this is some deep artistic nonsense. So you could arrange the buttons on the bottom screen so that the layout looks like a flower! Pretty cool, huh?

Practicality, practicality. Always you yell about practicality. Okay,- I'll give you practicality. Let's say there's an unresolved mystery in the story- it's just sort of there. But you want to tell players the answer to the mystery, and you just want to hint it. So in some important scene, you've got one picture in the center, and all the others around it. And why?- the player wonders. Why, it's because it's a clue, you nitwit! And he sees this clue, and then he understands the mystery. What do you mean, "pointless"? You're too picky.




Anyway, dynamic interfaces are a whole new language. I'm sure I've barely scratched the surface of all the possibilities that would be opened up here. You can probably think of more yourself. Something to think about...

2 Comments:

Deirdra said:

You've got some fascinating and spot-on insights and ideas, here.

 Mory said:

Coming from you, that means a lot. Thanks.

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Monday, July 21, 2008

Souls

I want to believe the future is going to have more opportunities than the present. I want friendly robots and perfect simulations of people to talk to (like myself!) and clones and full-blown transporter-accident human duplications. I think it's theoretically possible to perfectly predict humans by understanding the brain. And I have faith in science to get us there eventually.

Naturally, I don't believe in souls. We exist entirely within the little box that is the physical universe. We start in the universe, we play around in the universe and we end in the universe. We don't come from understanding everything and "forgetting", we come from lifelessness. It all needs to be built up. And then when it's built up, it doesn't lead anywhere. It just goes back to lifelessness. No heaven, no hell. We don't get to leave the box. All that matters is what you do inside the box.

This does not clash with my belief in God. God is on the outside of the box, and he/she/it put us in here. We are no higher than animals, except for the complexity of our intelligence -which allows, among other things, for rationalizing what we see. We can judge the walls of the box, and imagine that there is a box. That allows us to be mirrors, of sorts. The inside universe, dimly reflecting the outside of the universe. Like art imitating life, life imitates truth. But there is a clear and unbreakable hierarchy here. Reflecting God is an artistic flourish, not an escape.

What this does clash with is conventional Judaism, unfortunately. I can't go two paragraphs in the prayers without reading about some sorts of angels and demons and spirits and the like. None of which we should have any way of knowing about. Other than God, we don't know anything about the outside. It could be anything, or nothing. We know that God exists only because we see his creation and it couldn't be so elegant without him. But all the rest is fairy-tales. What do we see, that can't be explained sufficiently by saying that God is great? So all those other spirits, I don't believe in. I mean, I can't say they're not there. But I also don't see any reason to say they are. So I have a problem with a lot of the davening, as well as some other practices.

But that's not reason enough for me to spend a lifetime thinking about religion. If I haven't quite found my niche, that's okay. The usual Orthodox Judaism is close enough for me.

A person with no understanding of God who does things of value in the world is a hundred times better as a person than an intelligent person who has spent his life studying god, who has failed to do anything of value. Life is not preparation. Life is it. Get up, play your part, get off the stage. If you do a bad job, it doesn't mean you're going to suffer. No, it means something even worse: You did a bad job. No, that really is worse. It's the only job you have!

..but what do I know. I'm just a toy in the box.

4 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

I feel I can agree with everything you have written, except I can't come to the same conclusion of believing in God (and I am not as optimistic about hyper intelligent AI).

In your opinion, God answers the question of how and why the universe is as it is.

In my opinion, I would rather leave those questions without answers, as it leaves me more space to think.

I am interested in understanding what advantages are found in believing in God.

 Mory said:

Well, I think the most important thing is humility. When we don't see a god, under whom we're all (more or less) equals, we tend to place ourselves in the very center of the universe. This is a natural human tendency which hurts the people around us as well as ourselves to a certain extent.

Aside from that, believing in God isn't for our own amusement or satisfaction so much as it is so that we can play a better role in the world.

Blogger John Silver said:

Nice post! But I do feel somewhat skeptical about the statements on the powers of science. No doubt all complex phenomenons (eg: the brain) work according to definite rules and causes, but to assume these can be analysed, categorised and translated into a language we can discern (much less controlling them) is to credit science with a power that is out of the "box" it is supposedly describing. Aka it's a natural utopian / idealistic sentiment, but there's a reason science isn't called omniscience, and it's the fact that it can't transcend the practical side of its application.

 Mory said:

You and your reasonable statements. Bl'bah. I just want to meet myself already! It'll happen. Just wait. You'll see. Any day now.

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Friday, July 18, 2008

Superhero symbolism: "Omega the Unknown" by Jonathan Lethem and Karl Rusnak

I wrote a review of the ten-issue comic series Omega the Unknown, which is the remake of an old and strange superhero story from the 70's. While the original is just plain weird, this one I very strongly relate to. Anyway, I wrote the review for the review site The Factual Opinion. But I was planning on writing about the series here anyway, so I'm just going to go ahead and paste my review here. I highly recommend this brilliant series, for reasons which will become apparent, and recommend you keep a lookout for the collected edition when it is released in September.


Imagine you're walking through a street, when you see a guy in brightly-colored pajamas shooting laser beams out of his hands. Chances are, your first thought will be "What the hell am I looking at?". Once you get past that initial shock, your reaction will depend on how you tend to deal with the unknown. You might admire the guy, and want to learn all you can about him. Or you might pity him, and take him aside for some fashion tips. Or you might just start throwing rocks. You're probably not going to understand him, though.

Imagine you run into a person with Asperger's Syndrome. He is fascinated and proficient with specific fields, but not interested in other people. He takes things more literally than they are intended. He doesn't like being touched or making eye contact with people. His perspective is impressively analytical but oddly detached. Once you realize he's for real, how do you deal with such a person? You might be intrigued, and want to help him succeed in life. You might pity him, and explain what he's doing wrong. Or you might not be so charitable. But in any event, you're not going to relate to him.

Not coincidentally, the miniseries Omega the Unknown tends to evoke roughly the same reactions in unsuspecting readers. Open it up, and you'll find: characters and plot points which don't quite seem to fit together, a disembodied hand running around, narration which takes some effort to follow, objects which attach themselves to people and turn them into mindless drones, a sentient statue, and a distinctive style of sketchy artwork. The first thought is bound to be "What the hell am I reading?". And then it can go anywhere from admiration to loathing. But in any of these reactions, the reader is still a bit lost. Like the superhero or the autist, this story isn't trying very hard to be understood.

The main character is Titus Alexander Island, a fourteen-year-old boy who doesn't relate to people. He is analytical but naïve, and doesn't understand basic social rules. He is surrounded by many characters, and while he doesn't often express an interest in them they all seem to have something to say about him. He has admirers and enemies and helpers and everything in between, all for no more reason than that he exists. But there is only one person nearby who might possibly be like him. And that's the other main character. He is an equally strange, but more experienced man who has long since made up his mind about the world: He'd rather not be part of it. He never talks to anyone, and we don't really know what's going through his head. But it's clear there is some sort of connection between him and Alexander.

In the real world, that connection would be called Asperger's Syndrome. But this is a superhero story, and so we are given science-fiction explanations for the two characters. Why are they out of touch with reality? Why, it's because Alex was raised by robots and the hermit is a mute from another planet! And their destinies are tied together through the superhero order of "Omega". When you stop and think about it, this is not just random surrealism. Omega the Unknown is a metaphor, using the bizarre "anything goes" nature of superhero comics to tell a story which is -from start to finish- all about Asperger's Syndrome.

Everyone has to wake up and deal with reality, so the story starts with both characters literally crashing into our world from their respective bubbles. And the rest of the story is about how the world deals with them, and how they deal with the world. And Titus Alexander Island needs to deal with himself - starting out scared of his destiny, then trying to ignore it, and finally embracing it.

As in any superhero story, the world needs saving. But here the menace is not a cackling super-villain but the more subtle threat of homogeneity. Against these accidental paragons of individuality stands an army of normal people who've been sapped of their free will by nanotechnology. They get infected by all sorts of trendy adherences to pack mentality: jewelry, books about popular theories, fast food. Then they wander around, without any goal in life except eliminating those who are genuinely different. And just as Asperger people might bitterly challenge the general way of things, the superheroes fight the nanotechnology with a literal "grain of salt". (This comic does so love being literal about things.)

Hogging the spotlight more than the nanobots, but amounting to less, is popular superhero The Mink. He stages fights for the media, he makes messes while pretending to know what he's doing, he gets strength from artificial suits, he speaks in marketable catch-phrases. Everything Omega is, he is cynically pretending to be. But when he sees the real thing, he recognizes it instantly and gets scared. Right from the start, he's obsessed with Omega and Alex. He watches them, he studies them, he attacks them, he tries to control them, he prevents them from doing what needs doing. But he's never going to be like them, or be at all adequate next to them. The Mink isn't trying to accomplish anything, but his careless meddling could do real damage.

The narration itself is no less pretentious than the Mink. Not in the sense that what it says is wrong, because it's not; if you think about what's being said, it all makes perfect sense. But it is pretentious in that it adds absolutely no meaning to the story, while sounding as though it does. At first the second-person narration seems to just be an unusual style for an objective perspective, but a few chapters in the narrator is shown to be a character in his own right, called The Overthinker. He serves as the voice of rationalization, and is presented as an object of ridicule. I think he represents the tendency of Asperger people to spend time thinking about their situations as an alternative to actually doing anything.

Then there's the Nowhere Man, a little creature who gives an imaginary world to escape into. There is the politician, who might possibly have done some good for the heroes if he didn't only care about spreading his own ego around.

It is in this messed-up world, with all these destructive personalities and personified inclinations, that the Omegas find themselves. What drives the story is a question: Where the hell can they fit in? On the one hand, there's no one in the real world they can relate to, and it's a constant struggle just to be understood. On the other hand, the superhero group comes with so much baggage: having a name picked out by "experts", having to stand up as an example for their kind and as an inspiration for others like them, being mocked by the public even more than usual. Where in this crazy situation can the characters thrive? Are they ever going to effect real change on the people and society around them, or is that too much to ask for from two people? Will they ever be held up by the world as a shining example to be followed, or will the pretenders and mass herds always reign?

This is a bizarre story, to be sure. Even for superhero stories this is weird. Even by the standards of fantasy, you might think this is particularly detached from the real world.

Well, you'd be surprised. You'd be surprised.

1 Comment:

Mark Parsons said:

Great insights Mory. I read the issues as they came out, and just this week picked up the HC, which is very nicely designed.

As a fan of the original series (the final issue, in which Omega gets shot to death by the police, blew my 10 year old mind) I find myself hoping that somebody will get around to interviewing Mary Skrenes, Gerber's co-creator on the book.

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Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The Impatient Phoenix Strikes (itself) Again!

The Nintendo Wii really isn't so cheap. $250 might seem, at first thought, to be a bargain, but that only comes with one controller. Each additional controller is $40 for the remote itself, and $20 for the analog stick attachment. Plus you often have to pay more than market price to get the system, since they're still in short supply.

There were a few reasons I bought it. One was to play with my family, which has proven to be impossible. Then there were the downloadable games, the new ones yet to prove themselves and the old ones in absurdly limited supply. Then there was the remote.

You look at a little piece of plastic which translates your physical motions into gameplay, and you think: "Wow. Things could be done with that."

Nothing has been done with that.


Let us review the things Wii is capable of.

It can play normal games with normal controls, and there's an infinite number of great ideas just like that waiting to be made.

Then there's the ability to track movement in both hands, which has amazing potential for movement games.

Then there's the pointer, which works a lot like a computer mouse but where you can rotate the cursor in place and move forward and backward with it.

The remotes could theoretically be attached to any part of the body, meaning that full-body movement in games is possible.

Game Boy Advance systems can be connected to the Wii with cables, adding an extra screen for each player.

DS systems can be connected to the Wii wirelessly, adding two screens for each player, one of which is a pressure-sensitive touch screen, as well as a microphone.

Any sort of configuration of buttons can be attached to the bottom of the remote.


There is enough potential here, that if the Wii's lifespan were three hundred years, there would still be new experiences to be had at the end of it! The format is so flexible that the content can be anything.


Last year at E3, the biggest videogame exposition of the year, I watched the Nintendo press conference eagerly to learn what they would do with all this potential. As it turned out, the answer was: nothing. Nothing at all. Apparently they'd gotten bored with the formats they had already, because they made a new one: the Balance Board. It is a scale you stand on so the system can see the exact balance of your whole body. And there was exactly one game announced which would use this new controller: Wii Fit. It's an exercise collection of mini-games. That particular game didn't interest me (and I knew it wasn't worth my time trying to get my sisters interested), but that was okay. With this new controller, there were now even more possibilities on the Wii.

A whole year has passed, without Nintendo making any announcements at all except to gloat about how well the Wii is selling. And now it's E3 time again.

So I watched through their press conference again, waiting eagerly through all the usual rhetoric and spin for the Big Announcement. Some new game which would have me addicted and engaged and inspired and all that.

It never came.

Here is what Nintendo announced.

They announced a slightly-modified version of Animal Crossing, which I played for years -and beat- on Gamecube. They announced a music collection of mini-games for people who don't understand music, where you're not allowed to play notes but just wave your arms around aimlessly and see what happens. They announced a licensed game (Those are always bad.), and a realistic sports game. There was a brief hint that new Mario and Zelda games would be released at some point in the next ten years, and the implication that they would be as unambitious as possible.

And then there was the part where they spat in my face for expecting anything from them. An unambitious collection of mini-games doing what I thought Nintendo would be doing as soon as Wii was released: using motion controls. Except not as creatively as I thought they would. Stuff like turning the controller sideways and making big rotating motions to drive a waterskiing thing, and simple sword-fighting, and -get this- throwing a Frisbee for a dog. This was their big announcement. And why did this silly game exist in the first place? Why, it comes bundled with a new controller, of course! It attaches to one remote, to make the motion detection more precise or something like that. (As if the regular remotes weren't precise enough to find what to do with!)

And when this attachment is released, and I'm expected to buy one of them for each controller I have, what then? Do they think I'm stupid enough to believe, at this point, that they're going to do anything at all with the technology?!

The Wii has more potential than a hundred visionary designers could use up in their lifetimes. It's nothing but potential. Now use it, you fools, use it! The medium is half the message, yes. But only half! Nintendo is being so rewarded in the marketplace for reinventing themselves, they no longer want to do anything but reinvent themselves! Giving meaningful experiences isn't a priority anymore.


But if Nintendo aren't going to be visionaries anymore, who will? Who's even qualified?

All the other companies have had the same opportunity to use the Wii. They've had it for two years already. And there is no news of creative projects. They have all of gamism in front of them, and all they see is the opportunity to repeat. Critical consensus on the third-party Wii library is that there are around two creative games there- one from the pretentious action gamist Suda 51 and one from Steven Spielberg of all people. Where's the rest?

Who is willing and able to move forward?

2 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

Well I had a similar reaction to E3 this year except I have an xbox and follow Microsoft news more closely.

All the seemed to have announced was that they are simplifying the Dashboard to allow users to only scroll through one list at a time in an annoying 3d space and they have decided to copy the Wii by allowing users to create Miis... I mean "Avatars".

They did however announce the release of the sequel to my favorite game Geometry Wars, but I suspect they will have forgotten that it was the simple game design that made the game so much fun.

Also, one question, did you coin the term Gamism? The only other reference I could find to it was for studying paper and pen RPGs.

 Mory said:

Yes, I did.

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Sunday, July 13, 2008

Anticipating WALL•E

I think I first heard about Pixar's new movie WALL•E from this article in February 2007. The writer, Jim Hill, tends to hype up all Disney projects whether or not they deserve it. But this- this sounded special. A love story between two robots on an abandoned Earth in the future. And not just that:
Now keep in mind that all I've described here is just the first third of "WALL E." Which plays out with little or no dialogue. By that I mean: The age-old trash-picking robot and the sleek new scanning droid may beep & boop at one another. But -- with the exception of the music & the dialogue that we hear coming from that VCR that plays "Hello, Dolly !" -- that's it. The rest of this section of Pixar's 2008 release is (in effect) a silent movie.
At that point, I ran downstairs and started yelling excitedly to my mother about this upcoming movie. (No one else was around to yell excitedly to.) Pixar doing a serious science-fiction story in the talented dialogue-free style of their short films? That's exactly the sort of thing I'd want to be able to do if I were them. Nothing like it has been done before, and there's no good reason not to. That makes it brilliant.

And that anticipation was mixed with disbelief. Surely Disney would never let such a movie be made! How could they sell a movie so unconventional to the general public? Would they even try to? No, more likely the marketing department would start their meddling, and dilute the movie to the point where they know how to deal with it. I said to everyone I could find that if this movie were made with even close to the ambition originally intended, it would be a minor miracle and likely one of the best animated movies ever.

And then was the long wait. Half a year later Ratatouille was released, another Pixar masterpiece, and as I sat there with my family the teaser for WALL•E, which I'd earlier seen for myself on the internet, came on the big screen. It wasn't a conventional trailer, but the fact that my family was there, watching the trailer for such a movie, gave me shivers. It was real. This idea which I thought could never be made wasn't just an idea. It was actually coming, and my family might even see it.

WALL•E didn't seem like just another movie to me. This was my movie.

Months passed. Every so often a new little clip would show up on the internet, which I'd excitedly show to whoever'd look. Sometimes they'd say "That looks cute.", and sometimes I wouldn't get any reaction at all. Myself, I watched those clips over and over.

Then the movie got closer, and the reviews started coming in. Right from the very first ones, it was clear that this was exactly the movie it was supposed to be. The reviews were overwhelmingly positive, but they talked about how ambitious and unusual and dark and meaningful the movie was!

And then the movie was actually released in America, and it did great at the box-office. You've gotta love a world where a science-fiction love story with a speech-less first third can do great at the box-office. There's some merit there.

It wasn't going to come to Israel yet, of course. So I kept reading reviews, I kept watching clips, I spoiled everything in the entire movie for myself and wanted more.

Then the date that I'd seen for when it was coming to Israel wasn't quite truthful. It was only coming to a film festival on that date, and would come to actual theaters the next week.

And then we couldn't go until next Monday. (We could have gone without my father, but my father likes science-fiction and occasionally sings "Hello, Dolly" thinking it's amusing and I really really want him to see this movie.)

So that's when we're going. Monday.

12 Comments:

Blogger Kyler said:

Hello, please to meet you. I have to say you are the first blogger I have ever happened upon on the internet whose content I have actually been interested in reading.

Unfortunately I have to start with the bad news. I was only searching for someone who might share my opinion that Wall-e is not a spectacular film as it represented by the critics. We will have to wait and see what you think.

On a more positive note, I think we might have similar interests in figuring out video game theory. I will need to read you posts about game theory in more depth to figure out what you think, but for the mean time I will guide you to some posts I had made on the topic.

Videogame Design

Bioshock

Speed Racer

Program Design

Why I hate kyler A very good explanation of myself.

I hope to comment on more of your blog in the future.

 Mory said:

Unfortunately I have to start with the bad news. I was only searching for someone who might share my opinion that Wall-e is not a spectacular film as it represented by the critics.

Ha! This blog post was so the wrong thing to click on.

 Mory said:

I've gotta go to sleep so I don't have time right now to read through your blog seriously. But just a casual glance tells me that we're going to be disagreeing a lot. I look forward to it.

 Mory said:

You're a fan of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time? This is so perfect! I hate you already! Wow.

But to get back to the topic: I definitely am going to say what I thought when I see the movie.

Blogger Kyler said:

Since sarcasm is difficult to really understand over the internet, I can't tell whether the comment about The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time is simply you implying an understanding of my blog facetiously, or if you genuinely dislike this book, in which case I am curious.

 Mory said:

Oh, I detest the book. As someone with Asperger's Syndrome, I take its misrepresentation of Asperger's Syndrome as a personal offense. It disturbs me to think how many people have only heard of Asperger's Syndrome from that book, and think that we're unemotional twits to be pitied.

Blogger Kyler said:

I think when that book made it on my list, I put it there since I felt I had many traits in common with many of the thought processes described in the book. I didn't put it there because I thought it was an accurate portrait of people will Asperger's.

I think your blog however has provided me with a fairly accurate representation of you.

 Mory said:

WALL•E is phenomenal. If you haven't seen it, see it. If you've seen it, see it again. If you've seen it again, c'mere and we'll discuss its brilliance together.

Turns out I didn't know everything. I knew all the quirky little details, but I didn't understand that it would all fit together with such clarity and vision. I didn't know what the movie was about. I didn't know that nothing in the movie would be wasted, that it would be a brilliant work of art, that it would make me cry three times.

My parents didn't like it so much. They and Kyler and everyone else who says this is not a spectacular movie are wrong.

I'll have to do a detailed analysis when the DVD comes out. This movie needs a detailed analysis. (I really would pick it apart right now, but I suspect some people reading these comments won't have seen the movie yet. What are you waiting for, you culture-haters? See this movie!)

Blogger Kyler said:

This post has been removed by the author.

Blogger Kyler said:

After rereading your comments and reanalyzing the film myself, I have to admit your right, that it is a well focused vision of "directives" VS life.

You have actually almost changed my opinion of the film.

The main hangup that I still have that keeps this film from being spectacular for me was the moment of crisis near the end when Wall-E is being squished.

In the theater I didn't feel any deep emotions around this event. There are many reason's this could be, though I suspect it was because the filmmakers failed to thoroughly convince me that Wall-E was in danger.

I don't think we can really argue that point, since what I felt in the theater, is what I felt in the theater. I accept that it must have really hit a chord with you.

Thanks for almost changing my mind about the film. Apparently searching the internet for opinions is sometimes useful.

 Mory said:

No, I actually agree with you that there was little sense of danger there. No one really thought Wall•E was going to die there. It would be better if we did, though we've seen that sort of moment so many times in movies I don't know how it could be convincing.

But the moment is brilliant symbolically. Wall•E has this little dream of his that keeps him going, and the programming is trying to squash him down and stop him from getting there. If it were just Wall•E himself vs. the system, he'd die right there and never do what needed doing. But his sheer determination is inspiring to the humans, and that's the message- that the people he inspires can put in the effort involved and break the system.

By the way, I hope you've realized by now the point of the lighter they kept showing us- a little spark lights it, and then it can be used to start a fire, which spreads and burns things down. It's a clever little metaphor.

 Mory said:

It's occurred to me that (though this will sound strange) Wall•E is the mirror image of A Clockwork Orange. Kubrick's point was that humans have been programmed by society, and lost their humanity in the process. Andrew Stanton (the director of Wall•E) is giving the solution: love and determination and hard work can break down the programming.

The reference in Wall•E to 2001 doesn't remind me of the apes in 2001 as much as it makes me think of the march in A Clockwork Orange, which had exactly the opposite purpose. There, the march (set to "Pomp and Circumstance") showed that though the walk (in which the protagonist is led around by a bunch of officials) looks like an inspiring event, it's actually leading to more of society's programming and loss of humanity. In Wall•E, the music is without irony: A few steps taken are an important event, when those steps go against the programming. And those few steps can bring all the programming down.

Another comparison to be made is between the two movies' usage of music. In A Clockwork Orange, old music was what made you feel better about where you were. In Wall•E, old music make you understand that there was once something better to strive for. Each movie has two main musical themes which repeat. A Clockwork Orange had "Singin' in the Rain", about how nothing should make people unhappy. And then Kubrick used it ironically so Alex could brutally rape someone without it getting to him. The other theme is no less than Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, the greatest work of music in history, which triumphantly declares that humanity is great and can achieve absolutely everything. And Alex listens to that (getting very emotional about it) as a reassurance that yes, we are great, and no evil act he performs can change that.

Now compare that to Wall•E's two songs, both minor songs from an old musical no one particularly cares about anymore. To balance out "Singin' in the Rain" is "Put On Your Sunday Clothes", and as A Clockwork Orange ended on its song to tell you that humanity was doomed, Wall•E begins with its song to tell you that there is hope. The message of "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" is to revel in little things. This song is used ironically as well- Wall•E hums it to himself as he rolls through a destroyed world. But rather than making him ignore the world around it, it inspires him to find something to enjoy in it. The other theme is "It Only Takes A Moment", a love song which nobody (not even those who've seen the musical) remembers, to balance out the "Ode to Joy" which everyone knows. Where Beethoven's Ninth is a triumph, "It Only Takes A Moment" is an expression of longing. Wall•E is just as emotional about his song as Alex about his, but for the exact opposite reason: it makes him feel empty, understanding that life is only worthwhile if he does things in the name of love.

See, the problem with A Clockwork Orange's world was it didn't have that tiny little spark of life Wall•E has. If there were one person as pure and driven as Wall•E in it, the entire system set up and criticized in that movie might have fallen down!

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Friday, July 11, 2008

Is it really a good show?
Stargate SG-1 vs. Star Trek: Voyager

I've been watching the science-fiction TV show Stargate SG-1 for the past few months. Each week I watch and enjoy a few episodes, then on Shabbat I go over to Tamir's house to complain about them. I never saw a full episode of the show until after the entire ten-year run was wrapped up, so I didn't have any expectations to begin with. I watched the first episode and saw a lot of potential. The US Air Force in space. Ancient alien gods. Instantaneous transportation between worlds with a very clear rule system behind it. Possession of human hosts. Present-day people with futuristic technology in ancient cultures. It all seemed like interesting material for a long-term story.

There's no long-term story to Stargate SG-1. None of these elements ever go anywhere. None of it is really expanded upon. Simply put, that's not the sort of show this is. It's a show where generic sci-fi characters go through a generic sci-fi premise to get to generic sci-fi scenarios which are dealt with in generic sci-fi ways. That I have watched seven-and-a-half seasons of this so far should tell you that I do like generic science fiction.

But still I'm frustrated. For every episode, my enjoyment of what there is is mixed with frustration at what it's not. And that's why, each Shabbat, I go over to Tamir and talk about how it ought to be different. See, Tamir watched the show when he was little. They used to tape it every week. And he says his perceptions might be painted by nostalgia and are therefore unreliable.

That idea scares me a little bit.

I can find lots of problems with Stargate. The characters are uninteresting, but are given lots of focus (at the expense of plot). The show is much too slow, to the extent that it's generally more fun to watch in fast-forward. New ideas which could make the whole premise of the show more complex are routinely introduced, then immediately discarded. The characters always survive against ridiculous odds, though I want them to all be killed off and replaced. The morality of the show is frequently arrogant. And I go on and on. I complain about how "Any threat to the status quo must be eliminated!" even when it defies common sense. I complain about the actors, and the writing, and the repetition, and everything else I can think of to complain about.

And what scares me is, what if it is all about what we grew up with? If I had grown up with Stargate, and had looked to the screen rather than looking for potential, would I love it?

Because if so, that undermines my sense of control. Which isn't so great.

I was having an argument with someone who said Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is a good show and Star Trek: Voyager isn't. Now, obviously he's objectively wrong. But how can I know that?

Do I love Voyager and dislike DS9 just because I saw more Voyager as a kid?

I could write a book about everything DS9 did wrong. (Incidentally, please provoke me; the comments section of this post seems as good a place for that book as any.) And I could go through each Voyager episode, one by one, and tell you how many things that episode did right.

Wait a minute.

Most of the criticisms I throw at Stargate have been used on Voyager by disgruntled Trekkies! They say it had potential -two crews with conflicting ideologies stranded together on a limited sort of ship in the middle of nowhere- which was thrown away instantly. They say it never went anywhere. They say every possible threat to the status quo was thrown out the window. The characters are simple archetypes, and yet they get a lot of focus. They beat enemies against overwhelming odds, defying all common sense.

But no. I'm right. Here's why.

Each Voyager character is a generic sci-fi archetype. The tough captain, the popular first-officer, the young and cocky outcast, the human-like computer program, the alien outsiders, etc. But there are two things which makes them fun to watch. First off, there were some wonderful actors portraying them, who kept looking for new facets of their characters' personalities. Stargate's only good actor was Richard Dean Anderson, and even he's just repeating the same performance over and over again.

Secondly, the characters of Voyager are not so much a draw as the relationships between those characters. Janeway's mother-daughter relationship with Seven. Tom's friendship with Harry. The history between Chakotay and B'Elanna. The friendly rivalry between Neelix and Tuvok. The Doctor's continual surprise in Kes's enthusiasm. Put almost any two members of the cast together in a scene, and you get an interesting chemistry that's fun to watch. These relationships, and the general family atmosphere, liven up everything. On Stargate, by contrast, there are almost no connections between the characters at all. They all respect each other, and there's a little bit of forced romance between the two leads which doesn't seem like it could ever go anywhere, and that's it. When you throw the four main characters in a room together, all you have is the four main characters in a room. You don't have any sort of meaningful group.

Voyager is not, excluding the first season, slow. Though there is always time given to reflect on emotions, the plots almost always feel like they're moving forward. There are twists and turns and resolutions. On Stargate you have a lot of standing in place. I often feel that nothing at all is happening, not just in the bigger picture but in the context of the individual episode.

It is true that Voyager always goes back to the status quo. The overall plot never gets past "a ship stranded far away". But that's the buy-in. You know they're not going to get home, no matter how likely it looks in the episode. And if they got home, what then? There's not much potential there beyond "become more like Star Trek: The Next Generation". It is worth considering that a fixed status quo can still lead to good stories. Anything can lead to good stories; it's all in the execution. Voyager's execution of the individual episodes is excellent: everything that happens affects the characters, and what affects the characters affects us. It's just good writing. Stargate's execution of individual episodes is substandard, because it's done by lesser writers. There is little emotion in most episodes, and what emotion is there doesn't feel authentic.

The beating enemies against all common sense I'll concede. That is annoying, in both shows. If you're not willing to follow through sensibly, don't make the stakes so high.


And what of Deep Space Nine? Well, come to think of it, I grew up with that too. My father recorded Voyager, and he also recorded Deep Space Nine. Sometimes they'd even be on the same tape. In those cases, I'd fast-forward through Deep Space Nine and watch just the Voyager episodes. I understood the characters and the plots and the settings of DS9, I just didn't care. A bad story is a bad story.

3 Comments:

Blogger MsStargate said:

You are soooo wrong about SG-1.
Perhaps if you sat down and started watching the episodes from the pilot you would see that they do have a continuing plot that runs thru the course of the full 10 years. They are trying to defeat a parasitic race called the Go'auld. The leads characters are interesting and fully developed. And the romance between Jack and Sam is not forced but due to their circumstances, he is her commanding officer, they must put it on hold until the Go'auld are defeated.

 Mory said:

I have been watching since the pilot, in order. There is no continuing plot. Over the course of the seven-and-a-half seasons which I have watched, almost nothing has changed from the very beginning. Goa'ulds are killed all the time on the show, but it has no meaning. As soon as one is killed, a new one is introduced who is exactly the same. There are tiny hints of rebellion, but they are stuck in a holding pattern throughout because the writers don't seem to know what to do with that idea.

The main characters are paper-thin. Jack is sarcastic, Sam is smart and compassionate, Teal'c is stoic and Daniel is an exposition deliveryman. That's all there is to them, and episodes which make them the focus rather than the sci-fi plots just highlight their simplicity.

The only problem I have with the tension between Jack and Sam is that it is the only hint of a relationship between characters. It makes perfect sense that it can't lead anywhere, but that's exactly why the writers have it there- they don't want a relationship between characters that could threaten the status quo. Look at Teal'c's wife and daughter, who don't live with Teal'c seemingly just because the writers don't want more characters. Or look at the cadets introduced with much fanfare, some of them interesting personalities, who then never appear again. The writers only write in new relationships and characters if they see a way out.

None of this prevents me from enjoying the show, which I do. But there's no long-term development here.

Tamir said:

Sorry for making you doubt how good your childhood show is. Mostly, I see mine as a good thing - as a kid, I would have enjoyed (and did enjoy) many sub-par shows as well as good ones. So now I enjoy a few shows just out of nostalgia, and that means there are more shows out there I can enjoy!

(Not that there's a lack of good shows; just ones that make their way to my lazy brain.)

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Thursday, July 10, 2008

The difference between a good teacher
and a bad teacher:

A bad teacher has information to share.

A good teacher has a point to make.

I went through a lot of religious Tanach classes in my time at school. None of it interested me at all. Many positions were recited, none of which I remember at all. But then I went to a secular school, and the secular Tanach teacher had a position on everything. He would take a passage, and argue that it was imperfect, or that it was valid for the specific time in which it was written. He would back these positions up with comparisons to other religions and with logic and with literary analyses, none of which was strictly part of the curriculum. And all of this was because he was certain in his belief and wanted to convince us that he was right. I agreed with him on some points and disagreed with him on others. But I always was engaged by the argument. That was the first time I really experienced any Torah, because I wasn't just perceiving it but also using it to form opinions. I learned more Torah in each class that teacher gave than in each year of religious schools.

I wasn't interested in math going into the school system, and I wasn't interested when I left. Math was a series of rules that you needed to memorize. Toward the end of elementary school, I got a video from "The Teaching Company", of an enthusiastic math teacher explaining all of basic math. To him, math was totally obvious. He convinced me that math was totally obvious by explaining and arguing and engaging. For a few years, I was coasting on the perspective I got from that one video. All math was easy to me, because it just made sense. And then I got into more advanced subjects, and was being taught those subjects by teachers with no points to make. Math no longer made sense, so I stopped caring. I didn't really learn anything new after that. That's why I never took the math Bagrut.

If a teacher doesn't care about what he's teaching, his students certainly won't. A class is not a piece of curriculum. It is an opportunity to convince and debate. And people who don't see that opportunity should never be allowed to teach.

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Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Power Out

Not in the mood for substantial entertainment, I was wasting time as the power went out. I opened the window to get some more light, then went outside to see if it was just us.

It wasn't; everyone else was already outside.

I don't think I've ever talked about the people who live here, since I rarely deign to see them. I don't deserve this community. Everyone is friendly with everyone else, and they're all good people. It's the sort of community that the word "community" was invented for.

And yet we all spend our days in the house, doing stuff in isolation. Even my mother, who will volunteer for anything community-related, who invites to Shabbat lunch every person who sets foot in the neighborhood, and who chats with anyone who wants to chat, spends a lot of time working by herself on her computer.

But the computers were off. The TVs were off. The digital phones were off. And suddenly everyone on the street thought collectively: "Hey, human interaction! There's an idea."

Then power came back on partially. Just enough to light up the house dimly, not enough to run a computer. I went to the piano to start playing, though I didn't have much inspiration. I played, and Eli walked in and sat on our couch for a minute. And the people outside could hear me too, obviously. Then I stopped, and took my Bone comics over to Avri. (I kept meaning to give him those, but never got around to it what with all the time-wasting.)

Avri said the scene reminded of the scene in The Simpsons where a TV show is canceled, and all the kids go out to play in parks. (I'd link to a YouTube clip, but I can't find one.)

We talked about old-fashioned games, in the dark. And I didn't want the lights to come back on, because then I'd have no excuse to not be inside on my own.

The lights came back on. I went back in, and got back to doing what I do.

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Friday, July 04, 2008

Playing Against Myself

I think this is where I jump the shark. How much would he hate me right now?





I got my first paycheck. And I asked myself, how should I use it? Should I spend it all on games for the Wii? Or should I buy myself a Nintendo DS, with Final Fantasy Tactics Advance 2?

And then I said, No.

That money should go into creating a work environment. Get another computer, which will be only for work. A laptop, which I can use from my bed. (Like Benjy used to do, though I didn't consciously think in those terms.) So I started looking around the internet for dirt-cheap laptops not good enough to run anything but my work. I couldn't find what I was looking for- they're all better for entertainment than my desktop.

And how can I work with all that entertainment? I kept telling myself: You will work now. And I'd say okay, and then go read a comic. And another. And another. And a TV show. And then move on to a videogame. And play piano. And talk to people. And the end of the day would come. No work done.

One day I wasn't allowed by the blog to do anything but work, so I just did nothing. I turned off my monitor, and went downstairs, and sat on the couch, and proceeded to do nothing. I didn't play piano. I didn't read comics. I didn't watch TV shows. I didn't play videogames of any sort. I didn't go on forums. I just sat, and thought about the fact that I wasn't working. How broken am I, I said, that I prefer to think about not working than to work?

And I said to my mother, I need pills. I need some sort of medicine that will get me to sit down and start working. I need doctors to turn me into a productive member of society.

I looked at the laptop models, and I said, "This won't do.". They all allowed for too many distractions. I needed something older, less functional. I needed to be chained down to a computer and forced to work.

And then I said, what's this got to do with the laptop? What's it got to do with the money? Except I actually didn't. I didn't ask myself anything. I stopped asking. I stopped thinking. I stopped planning. I just went into the Windows control panel, and made myself a work user.

The desktop is white. I set the resolution there so that I can't see as much. The taskbar disappears. There's no Google Desktop, no shortcuts in the Start Menu, no handy keyboard shortcuts, no accessibility at all. Just the work.

And then I got myself a program to watch me. I'm not allowed in my regular user before 3:30 PM. I'm not allowed in after 2:15 AM. If I'm there, it logs me out automatically.

And I'm working.



I think I was a poor excuse for a person. I think I talked and I talked and I planned and I thought and I analyzed and I did everything that could be done, but I never did what needed doing.


Now I'm doing it. I'm doing it quickly and efficiently. I'm going to be done with Smilie altogether in a few weeks. And then I'm going to show it to people. And then I'm going to move on to something else. And something else after that. And I'm going to move up. And I'm going to get places. And all it costs me is a guilty conscience.

1 Comment:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

I am reminded of verse from "Oh the places you'll go!"

It's good you found a way to filter out the distractions and do work. I do need pills for that. Man am I unproductive when I'm not on those things and I'm not being actively and urgently pushed.

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Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Progress report:
Page 25 complete.

Subject "Mory" has now completed greater than 50% of the Pages of Smilie.


Proceeding to stage 2.


The subject must now make greater than 0 progress on Smilie code every day.
(EXCEPTIONS: Friday and Saturday)
"day": defined as (5:00 AM-3:30 AM)

If the subject does not make progress, for ANY REASON, a post will automatically be written.
Example:
No work done.
This policy will not be revoked
until Smilie has 100% completion.
It will not be revoked even if an infinite number of days pass without progress.

Therefore, if no negative post is made,
it can be assumed that the subject has made progress.

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Monday, June 30, 2008

Progress report:
No work done.
The subject must work now.

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Sunday, June 29, 2008

I'm A Happy Little Cog

Previously:
Natural / Rational
I'm afraid that if I were to force myself to do tedious work, I'd eventually get used to it. And that is just about the scariest thing I can imagine, because then I wouldn't stop doing tedious work. My entire life would become a tragedy, with only hints of the tremendous potential it once had, but none of it fulfilled. When I look at most adults, I see the most boring creatures- creatures who once could have been humans, but have allowed society to make them into machines. I don't want that to happen to me. So I reject any work which I don't naturally want to do.
The Multiplayer Experience
For a while now I've been babysitting a young boy on the block named Eitan [Friedman]. I accepted the job, despite disliking the very idea of jobs, because it's not much of a job at all.
[That job ended a long time ago.]
At 1:00 PM, I walk over to the Friedmans, who live a few doors away. I scratch their dog on the head, then sit down by the laptop. I use both the laptop's screen and an external monitor. I open the database. I open the spreadsheet saying how much time I've worked. I open Adobe Acrobat.

The job is to look at data on one screen. And write it on the other screen. And again. And again, until I've been working for around two hours. Then I stop.

I really shouldn't enjoy it as much as I do. I don't feel like I'm being forced into anything, I don't feel bad about myself, I don't look for excuses to not work, I don't look at my watch impatiently. Which means I was wrong about the whole work thing - there is no misery in repetition.


There are some gamistic lessons to be learned here, I think.

In repeating what I've already done I see the opportunity to do it more efficiently. At first I was using the mouse for a lot, but switching interfaces between mouse and keyboard took time. I got faster by finding ways to use the keyboard for everything. The very fact that those keys were there to be found made me feel that I had opportunities ahead of me, if I just kept working. Apparently that's enough to keep me going. And each time I start a different set of pages, I have new opportunities to learn the shortcuts. If it were not possible to find quicker ways to work, I don't think I'd have much motivation. So it is important with any repetitive tasks to make it clear that the player can get better with time. A role-playing game with shallow battles is not a good game, but deeper battles might be satisfying. A movement game shouldn't hold your hand too much, because it takes away the potential for getting better. An action game might be entertaining if you can find new strategies all the time. And so on.

The files I'm transcribing are research for a Diabetes medicine. This makes no difference to me. The work is the work.

The files come from lots of different doctors, who are given numbers. When I see the number 74, I'm genuinely happy to do the work. It's not just because, y'know, it's 74. It's because that guy has good handwriting. Most of these doctors write in barely legible scribbles, or don't understand the fine art of capitalization, or misspell everything, or all of the above. Each line of text is a new roadblock. I get into a slower pace of writing, because I don't expect to get far. I lose motivation. But when I get to a 74, I know I'm not going to be stopped. I'm going to be allowed to go right through and do my job, and then move on to the next one. So as soon as I see those two digits, I kick into overdrive. My fingers zoom across the number pad, I fill out all the data in a fraction of my normal time, and am eager to move on to the next file. TA clearly presented goal is much more appealing than a less-clear one.

I don't mind being like a computer program. It gives me the perceived opportunity to call attention to my own efficiency. I want people to see my fast progress and comment on it.

The data is all being entered twice, so that any mistakes will be caught. As I work, the Friedmans all work in parallel on another computer. Even though I'm outnumbered, I'm way ahead. I take pride in that. Unfortunately, with no direct competition now I've slowed down considerably. I tend to overlook the usefulness of competition, and I plan to continue doing so in the future. But it does have merit.


I haven't gotten any money yet, and I'm being careful to not want it. (I feel that to work for money would be hypocritical.) So if I weren't paid, it wouldn't make any difference to me. I'd still come back for more, because hey- I actually like this.

(Okay, enough procrastination. Start working on Smilie already.)

2 Comments:

Blogger John Silver said:

Dude I wanted to post a comment ages ago on that game, Des Reves Elastiques etc. Thanks for the link, that was terrific. I wanted to say more elaborate things but to be honest I'm starting to think it deserves a full blogpost of my own. We'll see if I can manage it, I hope I will, it all depends on whether my dissertation devours me first.
All the best,
John Silver.

 Mory said:

I've reached a point in the job where I don't see anywhere else to go. And yet, I'm still okay with the job.

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Friday, June 27, 2008

Progress report:
Pages 22, 23 and 24 are complete.

Next time:
Monday
Stop 4:00 PM
Open 4:15 PM
Page 4:20 PM
Complete by 6:00 PM

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Progress report:
The subject did not start working at the proper time.
Page 22 is incomplete.

No entertainment of any kind will be allowed until Page 22 is complete.

0 Comments:

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Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Thinkers


(21 April 2005)
Eliezer started our tradition of improv in the Academy a year ago. I had been improvising alone (for fun) for a long time, but that was my first experience with duet improvisation. I sit at one grand piano, some other pianist (sometimes Eliezer) sits at the other grand piano, and we just start to play.… We're playing, but we're also listening, because we need to complement each other. With these improvs, you never know where it's going, because the other player might suddenly get an idea, and you'll go in that direction with him. Or you might get an idea, and he'll join you. It's fun. But it's very difficult to have a coherent overall structure.

The following post is a direct sequel to The Composer.
Eliezer called, out of the blue. He asked if I'd improvise with him at the Hebrew University the following morning, as a demonstration for a lecture or some such.

I walked in very late. Eliezer had gotten there a few minutes earlier, and he was improvising with a guy named Levi who's (I'm guessing) a regular at his weekly Tel Aviv sessions. I took a seat and enjoyed the performance.

I looked around the room. Eliezer wasn't talking to a bunch of college students, he was talking to the heads of the Musicology department! There were a dozen or so people, ranged in age between their 30's and, oh, I'd say 70's. They listened to the music dispassionately. Then the music stopped, with both sides trying to get the last statement (to the piece's detriment).

Eliezer began to talk. He talked about the idea that the specific piano played on is as integral to a piece of music as its melody. He talked about improvisation as an important part of the composition process. He talked about improvisation being considered unimportant in understanding classical (and more generally Western) music. And then he invited me to play.

I started with a note, and he repeated the note. I built a theme of three notes, and he repeated it. And we were off. I tried to not take too much attention for myself, because I knew Eliezer would want to do all sorts of fancy stuff I barely understand and I needed to give him space. So I kept it simple, anchoring the piece in the original theme throughout while he jumped around enough to make it interesting though not enough to contradict me. I followed his modulations and added little cutesy flourishes. We each anticipated where the other was going and completed each other's sentences. It was a lovely improvisation. Then he ended, and I ended, and he ended, and I ended. "Everyone needs to have the last word.", he pointed out.

Back to "MIDI experiments"



Eliezer continued to talk. He talked about the self-sacrifice of limiting yourself for the sake of your partner. He talked about the greatness of some of the improvisations he had with Levi. He talked about the experience of having a conversation in music. He talked about how two-person improvisations could be analyzed and studied. He talked about his old schools in Russia frowning on improvisation. He talked about all the little things he could think of that he loves about two-person improvisation in general. And the room was silent. At one point a guy raised his hand to start a point, but thought better of it and let Eliezer keep talking. Eliezer talked and talked and the room sat still. If I may interpret what I saw, he started to get a little scared. He asked the esteemed musicologists in the room to contradict him, to speak up against him. He quoted Gemara for some reason I didn't catch, though I figured he was making a point about proper conduct in speaking.

And the one in the back who raised a hand earlier began to talk. I think it was the head of the entire department. He spoke with intelligence and consideration, and no one could have doubted that he knew what he was talking about. He talked for a long time, taking apart Eliezer's ideas piece by piece and comparing them to other things he was familiar with. He cut through all the enthusiasm of the speaker to reduce the issue to its most basic points: For instance, what exactly was Eliezer (who, make no mistake, the entire room respected) trying to sell them? And Eliezer invited Levi to improvise again.

Eliezer did not sit down ready to listen to his partner. He sat down with the need to prove himself. He played a technically impressive improvisation, that neither needed Levi's perspective nor allowed for it. It was jazzy and crazy and had little pauses where Eliezer hoped his partner would come in. He did not, because to see the openings Eliezer had left for him would require Levi to think exactly like Eliezer. For the entire piece, he was desperately looking for openings he could never find. Then it ended, with each side of course trying to end himself.

And the argument began. I will be blessed in life if I am ever on any side of such an argument.

Each new voice brought a totally different perspective. Some were short and incisive, others were long speeches contrasting Eliezer's method with their favorite improvisation-related topics. None were the sorts of positions Eliezer might have foreseen, and each speaker gave me the impression, while he was talking, that what he was saying was absolutely and indisputably right. There was not a single comment made which was not well-reasoned, even if the reasoning had little to do with what Eliezer was saying. They often reiterated what had been said so far, and it was always done eloquently. They worked each other's positions into their own. They dissected and analyzed.

One woman talked about the "Anything goes" mentality, and whether that kind of improvisation fits into the world's current position in musical history. One man talked about what studies of improvisation are being done at Juliard and London, and whether this adds anything to that. One woman repeatedly insisted that it should not be taken for granted that the topic up for discussion is Western music, that that is small-minded and ignorant. One man, excitedly bouncing around in his chair, talked about a novel he read where improvisation becomes a competition, where the goal is to be better than the other rather than to listen to him. One man asked what Eliezer thought they could do. And so on. The conversation bounced around the room, gaining momentum as it did. The overall tone was critical and negative, though they all had different reasons.

Eliezer asked for a volunteer in the audience to improvise with him.

The room went silent.

For a minute, all these great musical minds, all of whom are wonderful pianists, looked around at each other awkwardly, waiting for someone to get up. They smiled, amused at the situation. But they still didn't get up. They spoke only to make excuses.

Finally, the man who started the argument with his well-placed criticism got up. He walked down to the piano.

Before sitting down, he asked who starts. He insisted that the question of who starts is of vital significance, because that person sets the tone for the other. He argued with and considered Eliezer's suggestion that they start with single notes. Eliezer responded.

Finally, the man sat down. And they played.

It was a revelation.

They bounced musical ideas back and forth so effortlessly, you'd think they'd been doing it for years. And those ideas came from everywhere. They started with atonality, and moved on to jazz and classical and pentatonic scale. They moved from one to the other seamlessly, like it was all the same language to them. They never forgot where they'd been before, and they never hesitated to bring it all back at the most unlikely of times. They copied each other with perfect pitch, they finished each other's sentences even when the sentences were creative. These are people who've heard everything, who can't be surprised anymore. They played the sort of thing I'd love to hear again. And then they stopped, with each one trying to get the last word in.

Suddenly, everyone in the room was fascinated with what had just been played. They were analyzing it, and dissecting it, and admiring it from all angles. Truly, there was a lot for them to think about there. And they went back and forth on the merits of the piece that was played, but Eliezer had already won the original argument. Not with words which can be countered, but with music which inspires. The entire room was talking about what they'd heard. And as one person pointed out, something which evokes such strong responses has to be worth something.

As Eliezer drove me and Levi away, he said to us:
These are people of words. They talk. When it comes time to do, they have trouble. Who accomplishes more, the person who talks about things or the person who does?

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Sunday, June 22, 2008

Progress report:
Page 21 is complete.

Next work time: Wednesday 5:00

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The natural goal of life is to find many opportunities, and preserve them.


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Thursday, June 19, 2008

Progress report:
Instructions were not carried out perfectly:
The subject snacked, consulted and checked for updates.
The subject opened the development environment one minute late, and started the page several minutes late.
However, Page 20 is complete.
This is acceptable progress.

Next time of work:
Sunday (22/6)
At 4:00 all other activities will cease.
At 4:10 the development environment will be opened.
At 4:20 the new Page will be started.
Work will stop no sooner than 6:15, unless Page 21 is finished.

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Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Now here's a good game!

Des Rêves Élastiques Avec Mille Insectes Nommés Georges by Deirdra Kiai. Don't worry, it's in English. And it's free. And it's very short. Go on, download it. What are you sitting around here for?

It's an adventure game, or at least an adventure game derivative. (It depends on how you define adventures.) I wish I saw a lot more stuff like this. It's a personal project, starring the gamist herself and a bunch of people she knows. It's got a similar aesthetic to a blog post, which may be why I find it appealing.

Something I find clever is that it intentionally gives you no control, then repeatedly calls your attention to that lack of control. It does this in order to get you to identify with the character. If only mainstream gamists were willing to be artistic like that! You could say (and indeed, it's said in the game) that this game is meandering and pointless, but I say it is straight to the point. Much more so than adventures which give puzzles and giant worlds and endless minigames. You don't play through an adventure for that. At least, I don't.

I always say that you learn about an adventure character by seeing your options. This goes very nicely with what I've been thinking lately in regards to self-image in the real world. There are only a few things you will consider doing in any given circumstances, and what those options are define who you are at the moment. So if an adventure game wants you to identify with its character, it just needs to limit your options to what the character would consider doing. Then you understand who the character is, without needing to be told.

I'm not sure if Kiai understands this principle. In an earlier game of hers (Chivalry is Not Dead), so many options were given that after the entire game was over I still had no sense whatsoever of who the main character was or why I should be interested in him.

And yet, in this game I identify with the character. That's because when the character is the writer, the writer's more likely to get it right without realizing it. When you write yourself, it doesn't take any thought or conscious effort to limit options to what you'd consider doing yourself. Kiai the gamist isn't going to give Kiai the character any lines of dialogue which feel wrong to her. The end result is exactly what is needed from fictional characters: the limited options given let you understand the character.

Anyway, go play the game. I've spent more time writing this than I did playing through the game twice.



Also, because it's specifically referred to in the aforementioned game: The Graveyard by Auriea Harvey and Michaël Samyn is an exquisitely-crafted movement game, also tiny, artistic and free.


Seriously, what are you sitting around here for?

4 Comments:

Deirdra Kiai said:

Very intriguing, insightful comments. Thank you. This is all very helpful to me.

When you say "I'm not sure if Kiai understands this principle", I'm inclined to respond with "That may be so, but I'd like to think I'm learning as I go along". If that makes any sense at all. :)

 Mory said:

I'm honored to have the creator of a very good game comment on my blog.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Totally not my style. Too artsy and self important. No choices in anything in the game. There is no effect of the player on the environment, and the player is superfluous.

I know that was the point, but I prefer to play games and not artistic statements.

 Mory said:

You act like the two concepts are mutually exclusive! You wound me. Smilie's offended too. :(

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Monday, June 16, 2008

Progress report:
The subject began work 4.5 hours after schedule.
However, Page 19 is complete.
This progress will suffice.

Next work time:
Wednesday (18/6)
3:40 PM - 5:40 PM

No distractions or procrastinations
until after working.
These are defined as:
  • Entertainment/Art
  • Music
  • Long-distance communication
  • Reading of any materials
    not directly related to Smilie
  • Checking for updates on anything
    not directly related to Smilie
  • Consulting about anything
    not directly related to Smilie
  • Writing anything but Smilie
  • Considering other game designs
  • Snacks
  • Pacing while thinking about any topic other than Smilie
  • Thinking about refusal to work
    and what neurological disorders or social conditioning might cause such behavior
The BlitzMax development environment
must be opened
no later than 3:45.
The new Page must be started
no later than 4:00.

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Friday, June 13, 2008

An Endless Shabbat

(Note: This post was written before the progress reports.)

My mother placed a roll of toilet paper next to my computer. She does this when Shabbat is coming up. But it was Sunday! That's when I remembered about Shavuot.
"Wait- when's Yontif?"*
(The Yiddish word for a holiday effectively identical to Shabbat.)


"Tonight."

"Tonight?! But I just made it through!"

"One day is better than two!"*
(Any Jew not living in Israel has two-day holidays. My mother takes every opportunity to point out how much better it is to move to Israel and keep only one day.)


"Sure! It's also better than three!"

"Ha ha"

"It's better than a year of Shabbat!"

"Wow, a year of Shabbat. We'd all be well-rested."

"We'd all be brain-dead. That, or we'll have committed suicide."

But would I?

What if tonight, a year of Shabbat began? No games, no music, no blog, no TV shows, no digital comics, no buying things, no forums, no programming, no job, no microwave. A clean slate, with nothing to put on it.

For the first month or two, I'd be terribly depressed. Obviously. Maybe suicidal, yes. A person whose every opportunity has been snatched away permanently is not a pretty sight. To be sure, the first month or two would be the worst time of my life.

But then I'd adapt. I'd have to. I imagine I'd spend most of all my days with Moshe. I could play all sorts of games with him. I've got books full of card games I've never played. And chess probably wouldn't get old, if we both had so much practice.

What on Earth would we talk about?!

I guess.. he'll read more history books, and I'll read science-fiction books. There are so many people on our street with so many books. I don't like reading. But if that's what's there, I could learn to like reading.

So, sure. We'd have what to talk about. Maybe we'd invent a fictional world to change things in, just in case that weren't enough.

And then I could travel around and meet other people. If they're all stuck in the same situation, then they're all wandering around to meet people too. Now, you have to understand: When there's nothing to look forward to, the pace of life changes. Getting one opportunity to talk in twenty minutes is almost enough in that situation. So I'd be more sociable with people I'm not compatible with. And if each person is a whole world, then I could get really interested in all this.

Then I'd go find my old friends. First Yosef, then start going back really far. Kids I hung out with in grade school. And they'd have all sorts of stories and gossip to share since Shabbat began, because they would have had time to adjust too.

Gossip would be a popular pastime, even by me. When the world isn't without borders anymore, and all you see is a bunch of people in front of you, those people become so much more important. I go onto specialized forums and I see a potential opportunity in every person there. Take that away, and I start caring about the people who are physically here.

I'd care about the cats on the street again, too.

I'd wander around a lot. I'd explore every nook and cranny of Beit Shemesh, boring town that it is, because what else could I explore?! I need to explore something.

Then I'd start building routines.

Maybe I'd start my day with a book, then lunch, then back to my book, then to Moshe, then to Yosef, then wander around a little looking for other people, then home for supper, then to Avri for strategy games, then home for sleep.

It could be fun.

And when that year was up, then what? Would I want to go back to what I was doing before? Would I be depressed when everyone I spent time with goes back to their routines, and I'd feel like I had nothing to do again? Would I wish for more Shabbat?

Interesting thoughts, to be sure. But that's not my world. That's not me. Shabbat sucks.

2 Comments:

OpenID stone_ said:

I'm more concerned with how we would go about attaining and preparing food.

 Mory said:

Yeah, I wondered about that too. Then I decided it was totally irrelevant for the purposes of this post.

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Progress report:
Page 17 complete.
Page 18 complete.

Next time of work:
Sunday(15/6)
4:30 PM - 6:30 PM

"Mory" must be working at 4:30 sharp.
He must not distract himself until 6:30.

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Thursday, June 12, 2008

Progress report:
Page 17 is not complete.
Checking progress: 0.
The subject is defective.
The subject must be denied more than posting privileges.
He may not play games.
He may not browse.
He may not communicate.
He may not play or listen to music.
He may not read comics.
He may not watch films.
He may not check mail.
He may not organize.
He may not plan.
He may not be happy.
These restrictions will be lifted only when Page 17 and Page 18 are complete.
There will be no further discussion.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

Progress report:
Page 17 is (Please Wait) incomplete.
Recheck: Page 17 is incomplete.
Query: Why is Page 17 incomplete?



I dunno...
Response is insufficient.
Checking time of work:
Work on Page 17 began on Friday (6/6).
Clock signified "late afternoon".
Even if Page 17 were complete,
this would be inexcusably late.

Subject "Mory"!
Finish Page 17 by 2:00 Wednesday (11/6)!
(It is predicted that the
work will begin on Tuesday.)
Judgment will continue then.

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Saturday, June 07, 2008

In Darkness

What sort of reward could you possibly be expecting?


Talk
I wish I knew how people thought about what I'm saying…
Wow, he's saying so many
different kinds of things here!
This is clever and refreshing
and it never falls into predictable patterns!
I predict the next thing he says
will be whiny and self-indulgent
and immature and irritating,
just like everything else he's said.
See, that wasn't so hard.

Some of this is good.
But very little.
He's hopping around so much he never figured out which.
It's all good!
Drink your coffee.

It's not just about reward. You don't do things only to get somewhere, you also do things just because they're there to be done.






So you have a dilemma. On the one hand, there's an action in front of you. You have no idea what it's going to do, but there it is waiting to be taken. On the other hand, inaction is an action in itself, because it's an opportunity to step above the system and in so doing demonstrate your own intelligence. Suddenly all the infinite possibilities theoretically open to you have reduced themselves to two, just because I'm sticking a button here.





Okay.


You never see yourself making the action, you only see how people react. This feedback is imprecise, because those people don't see the actions they're making either. They aren't considering their responses carefully, they're just saying what it occurs to them to say. And they don't say it because they want something, they're just saying it because it's there to be said. This is not an objective analysis, it's reading from a script.


Avoid

Compliment

Criticize
You want me to tell you?Yeah, it's.. um, it's very good.Right, you know what's wrong with it? Let me think what's wrong..
It's too long! Yeah, I think it's too long.


Once you have that feedback, you've gained perspective on your own action. And only from this do you get a sense of where and what you are.

Previously:
The Older Pianist
I'm better than I ever was
And I still don't understand anything!

But then- who does?
Imagined Opportunities
Everyone needs opportunities to offer something to others, be that a joke or a service or an experience. We understand this, you and I. And when you never get an opening, you get pretty desperate. When no one wanted to listen to your music in the Academy, you went and played in recesses anyway, pretending you would have whether or not your classmates were there. But really you'd reached the point where you thought you'd make openings for yourself where none existed.
Purveyor of Silliness
It was not long at all before Ariel realized there was a much greater opportunity here. If this little box could make him so happy, then surely it would make other people happy as well! So he set out to find other people.
Selfish Friendships
I love to bore other people with ideas about gamism. When I think about it, this seems to contradict the first point. I mean, I know I'm not entertaining them. And I don't care too much. Maybe we so desperately need to feel like we're giving others all we can, that the question of how it will be received is secondary.
Self-images aren't delicate so much as flexible. Who you think you are is contingent on what you think you can do.

"I can show him entertainment, so I'm an entertainer."
"I can bring up examples in this argument, so I'm intelligent."
"I can listen, so I'm a friend."
"I can be efficient, so I'm a good worker."
"I can voluntarily help other people, so I'm a good person."

In this way, you're always constructing a mental image of yourself based on the actions available to you and what you think they'll do. But your perceived options change from moment to moment!


Self-esteem can undergo a complete reversal in the time it takes to walk from a room where you have opportunities to a room where you don't. Identity undergoes a complete reversal every time you switch activities. Who you are, beyond a body and a brain, has no meaning separate from your immediate context.

So I sometimes imagine what it would be like to start a different life. If you lay out my options clearly, in a way that I can accept and follow, I don't think it'll ever occur to me that I'm "supposed" to be someone else. I know it can work, because I can practically feel my brain rewiring itself to find new opportunities every time I go someplace new.

At first it's just a sequence of events, where I observe the world around me and demonstrate intelligence by not presuming to know what I'm doing. -------
Hey, there's something I can do!
No, Mory. Don't make a fool of yourself.

Pretend you didn't think of anything.
Then I start to figure out the rules of the game and predict what'll happen. That's when I start building routines. Then I follow those routines and continually improve them, until I feel like the routine is an important part of myself. (That feeling lasts until I leave the room, and then it disappears entirely without notice.)

And then my self-esteem's through the roof! Because whether or not there's anyone actually there, I always perceive the theoretical opportunity to show other people how efficient my routine-following is. If someone comes along who isn't interested, I imagine someone who is interested and put the button back on the screen.

We like to think we're so self-aware, great humans that we are. Human self-awareness is a joke. It's all a result of the random and temporary way you frame the world through perceived opportunities.

You can try to understand yourself by looking at the past. If you can observe with distance, it's not just a reaction to involuntarily simplistic "framing". You can feel like you've escaped the system, thus demonstrating your own intelligence. But this is an illusion. All you're actually doing is framing the world differently: Do I look for an excuse for everything I've done, or do I "step above the system" and look for a reason to dislike myself?

You'd think that with our supposedly superior brains, we could do better than that. You'd think we could deduce what we're like through cold reasoning and an objective sense of perspective. But reasoning is never cold and a sense of perspective is never objective. We don't see the world. We see a list of buttons.

If you have a lot of buttons to push, you're happy and see where you are. If you don't have a lot of buttons to push, you're unhappy and lost. The world is a series of buttons. That's pretty much all there is to life.

Better hope they're good ones!

5 Comments:

 Mory said:

A good conversation has both sides thinking they know what to say next. That's the entire point of having a conversation. And the point of having friends is so that you have the perceived opportunity to get into situations like that. If there's someone I don't think I'll be able to do anything with, I don't care one bit about that person. (People who care about anyone are people with more diverse interests than myself, who would therefore see opportunity with everyone.) But tell me that I can give that person comics, or games, or even just talk with them, and suddenly they're important in my little worldview.

OpenID stone_ said:

That's a pretty fair opinion. I work pretty much the same way. When I'm going to be meeting new people my first question is always, "Do they play games?"

Maybe it's really selfish/self-centric of me, but I don't put forth any effort into meeting/maintaing relationships that I'm not getting anything out of. I'm not altruistic. I'm friends with people b/c I like being with them; because they have something to offer the relationship.

 Mory said:

I apologize if this post is ramblingly incoherent. I can't quite tell if I got my point across.

 Mory said:

If we're effectively blind (and I'm saying we are), then we're not even certain of the most basic opportunities. This is why we need a reaction. Not necessarily a positive one, but just a reaction. We're not taking opportunities to get that reaction, we're taking opportunities because that's what we do. But without a reaction, we begin to doubt that the opportunity existed to begin with! Getting feedback from our actions comforts us. It lets us know that even though we can't really see the opportunity, yes, it is there.

 Mory said:

Oh, by the way: I edited the post. It makes a little more sense now.

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Friday, May 30, 2008

Progress report:
Page 16 complete.

Subject has done adequately to this point. However, every page was finished only in the last few hours before deadline.

The subject now has one full week in which to write Page 17. There is no specific deadline. How early the subject works on and completes the page will determine whether he may post.

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Thursday, May 29, 2008

You can take the kid out of the school…

I'm working on Smilie, I've got a small paying job, I have access to great games, I've got enough free time, I've got friends, I've got music, I've got shows and comics. I've got a decent balance between what I need and what I want. I can live for both the present and the future.

And my past still haunts me.

I still dream about school. I don't know how often, because I don't usually remember dreams. But I shouldn't be dreaming about it at all. I've moved on! I've left it behind! I don't want my past to have anything to do with my present.

I was in school for a decade. That's a long time. Each year had ten months, which is also a long time. And there were weeks, and days, and classes, and minutes, and seconds, and moments. The longer I waited for a moment to end, the less meaning the passage of time seemed to have.

You can't go through something like that and not be affected by it. I get it. But I'm not comfortable playing the victim. No, really, I'm not. I want to play the indignant rebel.

When I'd see reality, all the boredom and struggle and meaninglessness, I'd ignore it and replace it with other worlds. The knowledge that I was supposed to be studying was always underneath the surface, but I could push it out of mind.

Now there's nothing to run from. And yet it's still there, underneath the surface. Deep down, I don't understand that school is over. How could it be? School is a fact of life. As soon as I wake up, I'll see the classroom around me.

I still owe those ten years of homework. I still have ten years of tests to study for. I used to say: "If I ignore it enough, maybe it'll go away." No, I mean I literally said that. But it doesn't go away, does it? Even if every school everywhere were burnt down, it still wouldn't go away.

I want to hate my classmates for that. They never gave me an opportunity. They ignored. They mocked with nicknames. They failed to understand. They did absolutely nothing wrong. They were, on the whole, good people.

I want to hate my teachers. They oppressed. They bored. They were incompetent and unqualified. They didn't understand. They did plenty wrong, but how could they know any better? They were only stupid adults.

I look at myself, and see the effects of school everywhere. And the only person I can hate is myself.

And whatever I hate, I ignore and replace.

So I ask, what if I hadn't been in school?

I'd be incapable of sitting still. I'd be less interested in gamism. I'd sing in public. I'd alienate everyone even quicker. I'd be violent. I'd be loud and obnoxious.

I didn't need less misery, I needed more. I think I've suffered. Well, I haven't. I don't even know what suffering means! So I have bad dreams. Boo hoo. A few bad dreams, on top of a wonderful life, and I come to my blog whining.

Human potential is limitless. Human behavior is not.
I should have learned humility.

I should have learned patience.

I should have learned discipline.

I should have learned perspective.

I don't need a life without suffering, I need a life with the right kind of suffering.

So let's ignore the way schools really are. Let's imagine the perfect school.

It would be harsh and merciless. You can never get away with anything, no matter how small. If you fail a test, you start over until you pass. No exceptions.

It would not try to teach information, because knowledge and suffering should always be kept far apart. What is taught and tested is the basics: dealing with boredom, coming out on top in hostile social environments, perseverance, good manners, dealing swiftly with random and meaningless goals, and most of all a tolerance for every type of pain. Without these qualities, one cannot function in a working society. With these qualities, everything else (including knowledge) can follow.

Granted, school already teaches these qualities. But only to a very small degree, because it is teaching them by accident! As my lack of all these qualities proves, the school system is broken. Where it falls apart is in focusing on anything at all other than general qualities. Specific subjects, like reading and math, should come only later and by the person's own initiative. When you mix the general and the specific together, you lose both the general and the specific. The specific, because the student will learn slowly and unwillingly and forget everything immediately afterwards. The general, because the curriculum is not designed to teach it optimally.

There should not be a set number of years. If someone can learn to lose their personality in less than two years, then they will be ready for life at that point. And if it takes more than ten years, then so be it. But no one may leave who is not prepared for the misery and boredom of adult life.

You think I'm kidding with all this, don't you? I'm not kidding. School left me tiny little quirks, when it should have defined me. I should not be who I am. I should never have escaped school.

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Monday, May 26, 2008

Progress report:
Page 15 complete.

New goal: Page 16
Deadline: Friday (31/5), 2:00 AM

0 Comments:

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The Pathetic Life of a Super-Villain

I tend to root for the underdog.

So when I see a plucky little hero, facing an army of hundreds guaranteed to cause massive amounts of damage much too soon to stop, led by a being of unimaginable power who has been planning every contingency for the last five years, I feel sorry for the guy. The super-villain, that is. Because is there any chance in hell that he's going to succeed?

Let's get the whole evil thing out of the way right at the beginning. Yes, the villain is vile. He is homicidal and greedy and if he got his way innocent people like yourself would be in big trouble. Nothing in his sob-story past can justify his actions. And general insanity is a diagnosis, not an excuse.

But does anyone deserve the life of a super-villain?

Think hard: Have you ever read a story involving a contented super-villain?

A villain may try a hundred different plans, each one more ingenious than the last. Not one of them is ever going to last for more than a few minutes once a hero gets involved. It's Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner! And between plans, there are years of prison. So the man is caught in a loop, where he always knows that the closest he's ever going to get to happiness or meaning is the five minutes of anticipation where it looks like he's going to make it.

One side is always going to win, the other side is always going to lose. So it comes as no surprise that a lot of bad guys try to switch sides. It never sticks. Others have tried getting out of the game altogether. That never sticks either. Sooner or later, a super-villain is going to start acting like a super-villain again.

(I wonder why that is. It might be that, robbed of their climaxes so often, they become obsessed with the false hope of winning. If they can beat the hero just one time, maybe that'll make up for all the misery. Or maybe there really isn't any cause, and these people are just wired that way. Some of these characters are so completely devoid of humanity that it wouldn't even occur to them to do anything but crime.)

Whether or not he sees it, a super-villain has nothing to live for. He is never going to get to the top of the world. He is never going to beat his nemesis (though he may come tantalizingly close several times!). He is never going to destroy society, or get rich, or whatever other big plans he has. All he has is the loop. Get out of jail, build a comfortable empire, crescendo towards an actual achievement, see a hero, go back to jail.

Efforts to break the loop are doomed. The best of prisons is still a joke. Brainwashing of either side is guaranteed to wear off or be undone. If a villain leaves town, the hero will coincidentally happen to take a trip to wherever he is on the day of his big job. If the villain tries to stay off the radar, the hero will hunt him down. If the villain is banished to another planet or another dimension, he'll just come back angry. Anything less than death is not permanent enough.

So my first instinct is to yell at the heroes: "Kill him already!" For the sake of society, because the future and certain threat needs to be removed. For the sake of the hero, because if the job isn't finished he can't move on to other things. And for the sake of the villain himself, because what sort of life is he living? End the pain, already!

But wait. Death isn't permanent either. Once a super-villain has established himself, he's created a position in society that will never go away. The next time someone thinks they need this particular set of powers for a job, back out of the grave he comes. You know how it is. And even if he's lucky enough to stay dead, someone else will pop up out of nowhere to take the name (and the misery). And if that person dies, another one pops up. And again, and again, until the original villain is so annoyed by the copycats that he resurrects himself, just to stop involving other people!

There's only one way that a superhero story can have a happy ending. And that's if it doesn't. Let the bad guy win! Let Charlie Brown hit the football!

I want to see Doctor Octopus outsmart Spider-Man.

I want to see Magneto enslave the ordinary humans.

I want to see a season of 24 where Jack Bauer is killed and a big chunk of America is lost.

I want Marvel's new crossover Secret Invasion to end with the alien invaders taking over the world.

I want DC's new crossover Final Crisis, whose tagline is "Evil Wins.", to actually mean it in the end.

I want those annoyingly lucky heroes to get what's coming to them!

Yay, evil!

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Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Progress report:
Page 14 completed under the deadline.

New goal: Page 15
Deadline: Tuesday (27/5), 2:00 AM

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Tuesday, May 20, 2008

The Garden: Rule Systems

There is a set of rules, concerning what may be done and what will happen. When those rules are the dominant element of an experience, you've got a rule system game.

Okay, that's an ugly name. But this Form needs to be recognized in order to understand how a lot of its sub-Forms fit together.

Let's first take a moment to consider: This is a massive Form. Setting rules is a task uniquely suited to a programmer, and programmers do seem to control modern gamism. On a more theoretical level, there are so many different kinds of rules. Rules for moving units, rules for creating units or changing their properties, rules for betting, rules for bidding, rules for interpreting, rules for communicating.

Just about anything can be looked at as a system of rules, and indeed there are some theorists who analyze all games from that perspective. I maintain that often the rules exist only to provide stability, and not as an end unto themselves. This Form is the exception. In this post, I am referring only to games which hold the rules up as the entire point. Rather than using rules to give structure to content, these games let their content emerge naturally from the structure of rules.

What is the content of a rule? It is predictability, or the lack thereof.

If pressing a button always adds 1 to a number, you always know what the button is going to do. In the other extreme, when you pull a card out of a shuffled deck you never know what you're going to get. The predictability and unpredictability of these rules has a tiny value. Not enough value to sustain a game on its own, but if you combine enough little rules like that, some predictable and some unpredictable, you get a much more interesting experience. And the point of that experience is that the player is constantly trying to anticipate and account for what will happen next.

Notable sub-Forms
I am going to split rule systems into three categories. These sub-Forms are commonly seen as totally separate entities, but in actuality they are all part of the same spectrum, so to speak. The sub-Forms are:

Puzzle: A puzzle game is a system of rules whose results are always perfectly predictable.

Strategy: A strategy game is a system of rules whose results are mostly or vaguely predictable.

Luck: A luck game is a system of rules whose results are mostly unpredictable.


Let's start with the luck game. You've got a bunch of rules relying on randomness or unknowable variables. If the game (following those unpredictable rules) goes one way, you win. If it goes another way, you lose. There may be probabilities and statistics (or oracles and horoscopes!) which the player can consult to feel like he's in control of the situation, but he isn't. That sense of not having control, of fear mixed with hope, is exciting. And some people find it fun, apparently. Don't ask me why, I couldn't tell you.

The strategy game is more fair. You don't know everything, but you know enough to use the rules wisely. The unpredictability might be total randomness, or it might be the actions of another player. Sometimes there's an oppressive time limit, whose pressure makes otherwise predictable events harder to consider. That's strategy too. Strategy is the gray area between puzzle and luck- anything between the two extremes counts. I think there are two attractions here: First off, the player needs to stop and think about what will happen next, with the knowledge that his decision will be the difference between success and failure. This is exciting. Secondly, the predictability of the rules let you build routines, so that you can get caught up in the micro-management of the system. This is addictive.

The puzzle game is straightforward. "Here are the rules, here's where you need to get to, have fun." It's totally predictable. In a sufficiently complex puzzle game you can develop routines, but it won't hold your interest for long without surprises. So the baseline of puzzles is a worthless game. Clever gamists get over this handicap by going a level further: inadequately preparing and intentionally misleading the player. The challenge of a good puzzle is not solving a problem, it's figuring out what the problem is to begin with and what tools you have to solve it with. Once you realize that, you have an "Aha!" moment and you're satisfied. And then the rest isn't really so difficult. You feel like you've mastered the game, because you've understood the twisted mind of its creator. (Or the intricacies of its natural logic.) Or to put it another way, you're trying to find the predictability of the system.

I suppose there could be a fourth sub-Form of rule system: a game whose results are 100% unpredictable. Where you can't even imagine how it's going to go, because you know it's not conceivably going to go where you think it will. So you don't have fear or hope, just a perpetual state of confusion. I can't imagine why anyone would want to play a game like that, which is probably why this isn't an established Form. Then again, I could find this type of game in aspects of life. Let's call it the "drive-the-player-crazy game", and never speak of it again.


The borders between the sub-Forms of rule system are not only difficult to pin down, they are also different from person to person. How predictable something is (and thus what you get out of the game) depends on many factors: for instance, the intelligence and experience of the player.

For me, playing Poker would be a game of luck, because I have no way of knowing what cards everyone else will have. But someone who is a keener judge of character than I might be able to decipher what other people's hands are from their facial expressions and behavior. For him, that's a strategy game where the rules are not just the rules of Poker but also all rules of human behavior.

The more you study something, the more predictable it gets. If you've learned every last nuance of a computer opponent's behavioral code (and it is consistent), then a strategy game against that computer opponent is no longer a strategy game at all, but a puzzle! Never mind that it still looks like a strategy game; it's not. But most people can't understand the "artificial intelligence" to that extent, so it's a strategy game. Or maybe if someone's completely inept and unintelligent it'll be a luck game. (His odds, I'm sorry to say, aren't good.)

When you roll a die, that's a luck game. But let's say (disregarding human limitations) that you could control the tiniest wiggle of your hand and calculate exactly how the die would flip around when you threw it. Then it's not a luck game anymore, it's a puzzle. A very very tough puzzle.



Everything has rules. Every line of code in a game's program is part of a rule. On top of that are rules which come from the context a game is played in. So you can identify the three kinds of rule systems in almost every game, whether the gamist intended it or not. A movement game has occasional luck, an action game has occasional puzzles, a piece of music has occasional strategy. If you watch a particularly predictable movie, you're experiencing a strategy game -the rules being the clichés of scriptwriting. Watching other people's behavior, you're either playing a strategy game or a luck game depending on how well you know them. There the rules are that person's usual behavior patterns.

In all these cases, rule systems are subordinate elements to the actual content. And even if the rule system would be bad on its own (like a puzzle that doesn't require thought), it can work well as a subordinate element.

Many games use "mind challenge" as secondary content, which essentially makes them into puzzles. Because if you're going to be fair about challenging the mind, you're going to have to make all moves predictable. Puzzle platformers (platformers which require you to think) are in this category. So are murder mysteries!

And along those lines, you can say that a good storyteller is playing a strategy game himself, where the rules are both common sense and whatever characterizations and settings he decides on from the beginning. Everything that happens in a story needs to follow naturally and predictably from what came before, only breaking one rule if there's another which specifically allows it to. This is a strategy game. (If the storyteller doesn't follow the rules, it doesn't mean it's not a strategy game. It just means he cheated.) So when you experience a story, you're also the spectator of a strategy game, like you might watch a game of chess.


Speaking of chess, I haven't gotten into genres at all, have I? Oh dear. The genre isn't in what way a game is predictable (because there are only so many ways a game can be predictable), but what the set of rules is like.

There are physics puzzles, where the rules are (simplified versions of) the laws of physics. (The Incredible Machine, Armadillo Run, creative lines of dominoes) There are abstract number puzzles where the rules have no relationship to anything real. (Sudoku) There are transport puzzles, where the rules are that you can move around and push or carry things around. (Sokoban, sliding tile puzzles) There are… you know what, this is silly. You know what puzzles there are. And there are a heck of a lot of common genres of puzzle. All I'll say is there are some kinds of games commonly considered puzzles which I don't call puzzles: Mazes, any tests of vocabulary (crossword puzzles) or other knowledge, jigsaw puzzles (which are actually tests of perception), and probably others I'm not thinking of. If it's not a rule system, it's not a puzzle. Moving on…

There are turn-based strategy games and real-time strategy games. Both are competitive: in the former you take turns with your opponent, and in the latter you constantly move at the same time. There is simulation strategy, where the rules are modeled after a real-world system. There are even subgenres of that genre: sports simulation strategy, empire simulation strategy, world simulation strategy, farm simulation strategy. (The appeal of simulations is that even extremely complex and deep rule systems can be accessible to anyone with a minimum of real-world experience.) Moving on, there is trading strategy and abstract strategy and battle strategy (Whoo boy, is that popular.) and bluffing strategy and card-playing strategy and if you take a word at random from the dictionary, chances are you can stick the word "strategy" after it and have an idea for a game.

A luck game is a luck game. It's all the same to me. If you think there are different kinds of luck games that feel different from each other, and would like to list them, be my guest.


I suspect that even when gamism expands to interface directly with our brains, rule system games will still be around, and almost exactly the same as they are now! There will still be gambling, there will still be simulations and competitions, there will still be mind-bending puzzles. Make of that what you will.

Droplets: Rule Systems

Strategy systems are most commonly based on war and sports. No surprise there. What is a surprise is you won't find "love strategy", which makes just as much sense as the other two. Why no romance? The Sims included some simple romance, and it was a huge hit. But no one else is trying. Bring on the procedurally-generated soap operas!

Combining the rules of the real world with abstract rules is a fun recipe for puzzles. Imagine a simulation of society, where you can mess around with space and time in specific ways. Doesn't that sound fun, in an "If only I could do this in the real world" kind of way? Of course, that assumes programmers can get a simulation of society running and somewhat believable. Not much chance of that. Some day, though.

Strategy games tend to have the exact same rules from level to level. In order to keep the game from feeling totally monotonous, gamists like to tack on stories. "If the context is different, maybe the experience will feel different!" The story distracts from the rules, rather than enhancing them. So big stories ought to be the exception, not the rule. Instead the levels should shake things up more, in order to keep predictability a challenge. It's not enough that the goals change- have a few new rules added each level, and other rules taken out! That way, you constantly have to rethink how to proceed rather than settling into easy routines. Explaining the changes in context isn't at all necessary, because who needs a context? If someone tells you "Here are the rules.", you don't say "Tell me the historical and sociopolitical explanations for these rules!", you say "Okay." and start having fun.

When puzzle games have context, that context applies to the whole game. And it never adds anything. Instead, there should be stories behind individual puzzles, stories which have no connection to each other. The context for a puzzle can matter, because it tells you what sort of perspective to take as you look for a solution (and in so doing, it may be tricking you!). This also lets the gamist put in more red herrings than he could otherwise get away with. Who says puzzles have to be simple?

Real-time strategy games already tend to have different sides which are significantly different from each other in gameplay. But they could be more significant. Multiplayer strategy games don't necessarily have to be entirely fair, especially if a game has many varied strategy levels with different rule sets. It's okay in a linear game for one level to make things much harder for one player, because the next level might go in his favor. The practice of "balancing sides" doesn't seem important, or even necessarily beneficial, in that context. And once you start thinking like that, you realize that the experience one player has doesn't have to be even similar to the experience of the other player!

So why can't two players have entirely different rule sets?

Why can't a game randomly pick one of many players, say to the others: "This is who you've all got to beat!", and then give the victim a major advantage?

Why does every player even have to be playing a strategy game?

What if one player played the "god of chaos", and could insert randomness into an otherwise mostly predictable strategy game? Then everyone has to stay away from him, to keep from falling into a luck game!

What if one player were playing a real-time movement game, and the other players were taking turns trying to trap him through strategic construction?

What if some players were managing vast armies of expendable soldiers, and the other players were playing a shooter?


Imagine you're playing a strategy game (where the levels are different from each other), and you're finding one level particularly hard. You keep doing your routines over and over, getting more and more efficient at them, and every time -- you lose. Eventually you have an "Aha!" moment, and then suddenly everything in the level is entirely predictable. You beat it easily, and move onto the next level which is back to really being strategy. See, you've just played a puzzle. But it didn't tell you it was a puzzle. Why should it always be totally obvious whether something is luck, strategy, or puzzle?

You are in a cave. There is a tiny hole through which you can see light, but you can't get through it. It's a puzzle, obviously. But in order to get out, you need to explore deeper into the cave, and learn how the rules of the game work. The more you see, the more rules you can observe and figure out. And you can only get out of the cave once you've mastered many of those rules, by using them all together cleverly. What I am describing is a full-length puzzle game, but one which is one puzzle. A massive one.

A puzzle game, where some of the code that runs the game is editable (in simplified form) from the game itself, and as part of the gameplay! Imagine a large world, where you just want to get to the other side. In order to do that, you're going to have to keep flipping over the way the world works on a fundamental level.

A multiplayer strategy game, following similar principles. The rules to begin with are very clear, but during the course of the game players can pay or vote to add or take away rules, in order to make their units more valuable. The many potential rules are all programmed, and only a minimal number of them become available (randomly) in each game. Everyone is trying to keep the game unbalanced in their favor, and no two playthroughs are the same!
(One version: Several cards representing new rules are displayed, and only one or two of them will get activated at a set point. Until that point, the players pay to change the probabilities of the cards. But it's still up to luck in the end.)

A massively multiplayer strategy game, with hierarchies between players.

Context can be nice in short rule system games. The rules themselves can have an artistic message. This type of game is often pompously called "Serious Games". Well, it's no more serious than anything else, but it's got potential. Especially with multiplayer, where the different rule sets given to the different players can reflect different types of people. Making the game unbalanced can be part of the message, though making it totally impossible for one player takes away longevity.

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Thursday, May 15, 2008

Progress report:
41% of Page 14 has been written.

New goal: Complete Page 14.
Deadline: Tuesday(20/5), 2:00 AM.

3 Comments:

Tamir said:

A prime percentage? And one that 100 doesn't divide by? Why, that would mean that the number of things to do on this page is evenly divisible by 100. Fascinating. =P

 Mory said:

It's rounded down from a fraction.

Tamir said:

How horribly inexact.

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Wednesday, May 14, 2008

LostWinds:
Tradition and Potential

Disregard what I said in Internet Nations- it turns out I can download games on the Wii! So when Nintendo started selling original games this past Monday, I was right there. I was able to get a new Wii game on the same day it came out, without having to be in America! Imagine that!

This new initiative, called "WiiWare", isn't going to work the same way as normal retail. Normally (as I understand the process) the developer's working for a publisher, who has a lot of control over the game. The publisher manufactures the physical discs and markets the game to the public. Then it gets shipped to the stores, who are only likely to stock and put on display games which are similar to everything else (because they know that's what sells), and even those only for a limited time. The game finally gets sold at either $30, $50, or $60. There's not much room for creativity there. With WiiWare, there's only one middle-man, that middle-man being Nintendo. (Who will censor, but at least they won't try to homogenize.) The developer makes the game, the developer sets a price, Nintendo puts it on display in their store, and people like me buy it on impulse. This system is similar to how games are already sold on PC.

There's potential here. A game like my theoretical Through the Wind platformer might not do so well in the usual market. A dance-like 2D platformer isn't a safe bet for publishers or retailers. But in this new environment, it could exist and find an audience. Without all the middle-men and their greed, there's actual potential for art.

Out of the opening line-up of WiiWare games, the only one to catch my eye was LostWinds. It's a 2D platformer, 3-4 hours in length, 37 megabytes in size and 10 dollars in price. Look at this trailer to see why I was interested.

What we have here is an interesting set of controls. Though this is a platformer, there is no jump button. Instead, you use the remote to draw gusts of wind, which blow your character around.

Now, let's stop there for a moment. Imagine you're walking through the street, when you decide you'd really like to get up to that roof there. Suddenly, a gust of wind comes from underneath your feet, raising you so much that you can grab hold of the roof and pull yourself up. You'd be exhilarated, no?

That emotion is nowhere to be found in LostWinds. The game is perfectly pleasant. But you never get the sense of joy I'd identify with controlling and mastering nature. Essentially, the gusts of wind are not so much gusts of wind as a fancy double-jump. One gust up, one gust left, you're up. The game slows down as you jump, but not to give gravitas so much as to make your stroke more precise. The "wind" is localized, it is simple to control, it can only be used a few times in a row, and it stops in an instantThe "wind" is localized, it is simple to control, it can only be used a few times in a row, and it stops in an instant -none of these qualities say "wind" to me.

In fact, LostWinds feels pretty standard. At first you can only make one little jump, then later you can jump higher and higher to get to new parts of areas you've already been to. It works, I guess.

There's a lot of exploring. You know I'm a sucker for that. But the areas you explore (and are forced to return to over and over) aren't particularly enjoyable. There are occasionally little toys to interact with (like windmills in the background which can be blown around), and that's laudable, but for the most part the world feels like it was built for the abilities, and not vice versa. This is a critical distinction. Using wind to get over a platform which is the exact height you can get over is an obstacle. Using wind to get over a platform which seems too big for any human is fun. But the controls are not designed for that. You're not supposed to control the wind as you see fit, there are rigid limitations (mentioned earlier). The whole experience is mechanical and rusty. So going back to earlier areas isn't a treat ("I wonder if there's something cool there I missed!"), it's a chore. There are collectibles thrown around to encourage exploring further, but since it's never said what you get for finding them all, that's not much incentive.

Why is there so much backtracking, anyway, if the world design isn't distinctive? Well, it's obvious- it's because the world is so tiny, and the gamists don't want the experience you've paid $10 for to be over in a half hour.

But hold up a second - why is it tiny?

The game, as I said, is 37 megabytes. That's because, the method of distribution being what it is, the size limit for WiiWare games is around 40 megabytes. (A typical Wii game disc, by comparison, holds around 4,800 megabytes.) What I haven't said yet is that the game is gorgeous. I haven't said it because I don't care. High-quality graphics, of the sort this game has, take space. That's space which could have been used for making the game better. The 1996 game Super Mario 64, which I've downloaded for Wii and am enjoying immensely and is in a whole different league from LostWinds (though at the same exact price), is eight megabytes. Eight!

People expect lower graphic quality from downloadable games, so no one would have blamed the gamists for simpler visuals. People would have still bought it for the gameplay. And with that extra size, the game could have been less repetitive and more varied. The issue here is that these are developers who are still operating on the same old priorities. A 44-man team, most of them focused on flashiness. It's a new day, folks. You've got the opportunity with WiiWare to pour all your effort and creativity into making a good game. Don't waste it on superficialities.

The usual way of thinking pervades every aspect of this game. The music is prerecorded rather than synthesized, even though synthesized audio is much smaller. I assume this is why there are only three pieces of music in the whole game, repeating endlessly. There is an insipid fantasy story tacked on top, just because it's usual to put stories in games. There are many characters to listen to, even though that is totally disconnected from the premise and tone of the gameplay. There are enemies all over the place which have to be fought, even though the tone of the game is supposedly peaceful and mellow. (This contradiction is resolved by making all the enemies pushovers. But if there's no threat, then why waste the player's time with fighting?) There is a health system whose design makes no sense at all. It's totally unnecessary and redundant to begin with, but it's there because it's a standard feature of platformers. And finally, the game ends with the promise of a sequel, even though this is the sort of simple idea that does not call for a sequel.

The game has an interesting origin story. Apparently the team behind it come up with "Game of the Week" ideas. And one week someone had this creative idea of controlling the wind, and they all decided to run with it. The whole four-hour game was made in three months, in which time (I am judging solely based on the final product.) everyone else added on formula, imitation and flash. And that guy's good idea was turned into a bland game.

It's not bad, mind you. It's quite decent. And I look forward to seeing what new games this team will make, once they get this LostWinds 2 nonsense out of their system.

But WiiWare was supposed to be more. It could be more.

3 Comments:

Tamir said:

Don't give up on it yet; it's got potential. Give it time.

 Mory said:

There is absolutely no danger of me giving up on an accessible source of new and creative games. :) That's true even if it doesn't turn out to be the revolution I'm hoping for.

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Great Review.

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Monday, May 12, 2008

Progress report:
Page 12 complete.
Page 13 complete.



New goal: begin Page 14.
(Page 14 is complex.)

Deadline: Friday (16/5) 2:00 AM

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Friday, May 09, 2008

The deadline has passed.
Progress report:
No progress.

New Deadline: Tuesday (13/5), 2:00 AM
Goals: Complete Page 12 + Page 13.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I would have done it, if my family hadn't forced me to come hiking with them for Independence Day. It's my family's fault there won't be posts! Not mine.

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Thursday, November 14, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

Monday, May 05, 2008

Purveyor of Silliness

As Ariel was walking one day, he spotted it. It was lying on the ground, unwanted, as though someone had thrown it away in anger. And Ariel saw an opportunity to amuse himself. As he picked it up, he suddenly realized it was the most perfect thing he had ever touched. It was a black cube. Ariel could not say why he liked it so much, but he did. It made him happy just holding it and looking at it, and he did so for the whole walk home.

It was not long at all before Ariel realized there was a much greater opportunity here. If this little box could make him so happy, then surely it would make other people happy as well! So he set out to find other people.

The first person he met was busily running from one city to another city, after which he would run to a third city, and back to the first. Ariel ran alongside him, and tried to show him the cube. This man did not even turn his head. Ariel suggested that after he finish his running he might stop and look. While still never turning, the man muttered assent. This was a lie: After he got back to the first city, he might run back to the third city. Or maybe a fourth city. And then to the second. Or he might run in place for a while. In any event, Ariel decided he could not wait until the next city (and he was feeling inadequate trying to keep up!), so he moved on.

As he walked, he considered that the cube was still making him happy. He tried to figure out how. It certainly was a nicely proportioned cube. And its blackness was deeper than any paint. Again, Ariel was convinced that there was an opportunity here. Maybe if he brought attention to the proportions and the color, he could make other people happy!

The second person he met was a little girl. He showed her the cube, and she held it for a few seconds. Ariel tried to call her attention to the blackness, to the perfect proportions, but she had already lost interest. Ariel moved on.

As he walked, he considered the smooth texture of the cube. It was like no material he'd ever encountered! It made him happy to just feel the surface, feel the sharp edges, and feel the weight of it. It was a perfect weight, to be sure- it was exactly as heavy as one would expect it to be, but so exactly that it surprised the holder. Truly, the weight of the cube was a revelation. Ariel considered what an honor it would be for an undistinguished person like himself to share this piece of perfection with others!

The third person he met was a young man who liked throwing things. Ariel, pointing out the perfection of the weight and the texture, eagerly handed over the cube to be admired. Ariel had to walk far.

As he moved on, he noticed that it had a very distinctive smell. This smell was unlike any he had ever perceived before, and it was very appealing. Also, if he held the cube to his ear he could hear a strange sound, which was also distinctive and appealing.

The fourth person he met held it and looked at it for a second, and commented that it was "nice". Ariel excitedly took the opportunity to talk about the texture and the weight and the sound and the smell and the color and the proportions, and was politely asked to go away.

The fifth person he met wouldn't look at it, because "No cubes can possibly be as good as the ones I make!".

The sixth person he met only liked hexagons, and wanted to chop off some edges.

The seventh person he met tried to eat it.

The eighth person he met didn't care.

The ninth person he met ran away.

Ariel decided the cube must have no value at all. Certainly it had made him happy before, but that must have shown only that there was something wrong with him! How could anyone enjoy holding a little cube? It was worthless! And with that thought, he threw it on the ground angrily.

As he walked away, he heard someone behind him. Turning, he saw that someone had come to pick it up. And this person was admiring it. "Never in my life", that person said, "have I touched anything so perfect!".

Ariel was unsure which way to go. If he took the opportunity to talk about the cube, and to show everything he had seen in it to someone else, would that sentiment remain? Or was the statement, to begin with, mere hyperbole?

Ariel proceeded with caution.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I think this is one of the best things I've ever written. Over and over I get to situations like these, and I desperately want to write about them until I realize that there's nothing to say that this post didn't already say better.

I wish there were someone with exactly the same opinions as me on everything. That way I'd always have opportunities with him.

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Sunday, April 27, 2008

Deadline: Wednesday (30/4)
Goals:
  • Subject must complete Page 11.
  • The transition between Page 2 and Page 9 should be clarified, if possible.

Progress report:
Both goals have been completed.

Next deadline: Thursday (08/5)
Goal: Complete Page 12.

0 Comments:

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Wednesday, April 23, 2008

"Are games art?"



Okay, well, first of all, you asked that as a simple question, a simple yes-or-no question, so I first of all should give you a simple answer, which is "Sometimes.", but behind the question is a whole historical, historical sociological sort of way of thinking, which I object to.

See, we say that over here is entertainment and over here is art. And this comes from the class system, right? We've got the lower experience and the higher experience, the one which the lower class enjoys and the more sophisticated one that the higher class likes. And even though these days there aren't such limits on where you get what and you can get really good art or entertainment for free or really cheap, so even now we've still got the… remnants of that class system. And that's the distinction between "art" and "entertainment".

And… you'll probably think I'm stupid for saying this, but there isn't really… that's not a clear distinction at all. It's arbitrary. It's vague and hard to define. And it doesn't really mean anything. If you're making something, you don't say "I'm going to make a work of art!" or "I'm going to make a work of entertainment!", you say "I'm going to make a good work.". The creator is trying to evoke emotions, that's what this is all about. Right? The creator is, the creator of any work, is trying to evoke emotions through whatever means he feels like using. That's art and entertainment. So we say that art's here and entertainment's here, but it's not like that. They're all part of the same field! Creation is creation.

And what people tend to forget is that there is such a thing as bad art. Most art is bad, and you just don't see it because nobody's gonna put that in a museum. You've got experts hand-picking the best of the best out of the past few hundred years, and putting that on display, and we get the idea that art is great. But entertainment is great, too! If you're evoking emotions, you've done a good job, and it doesn't make any difference if a bunch of snobs in the 19th century would call it "art" or "entertainment"!

We say that art is inspiring and serious and world-changing and well-done and significant, but.. If I were to take, if I were to go through the last few hundred years and pick out the best-of-the-best of entertainment, the best magic acts, the best movies, the best comedians, the best videogames, you think that wouldn't be inspiring?! You think it wouldn't be significant? But we don't get the best of the best, we get whatever's going now. So we see it as, like, a scale, where you've got zero and then entertainment and then art, but it's not like that. There's just a scale of quality, and the "art" and "entertainment" the whole… argument over what is art and what is entertainment has nothing to do with it!

There's nothing inherently better about evoking emotions through dance and evoking emotions through people punching each other. Now you probably want to say that I'm an idiot, that dance is great and people punching each other is stupid, but that's the whole sociological thing I'm talking about! What does it matter how you get the audience to feel something, as long as you do? If you do, …bravo. You've done something good. And that's what all of it is about.

So now we have games. Where everything is possible, there are no limitations and set rules. It may seem like there are things we can't do, but that's just because even the best of modern technology isn't giving us everything we want yet. But we'll get there eventually, when the technology gets better. In principle, everything is possible.

So now we have everything and we're still holding onto our little groups. Here's art, here's entertainment. They're separate. And even though gamism encompasses everything, everything we could possibly want from it, we're still trying to fit it into these little boxes. Because that's what we do, from hundreds of years of… experience, I guess. Habit. We try to say "It's entertainment, because anyone can enjoy it!", and then some people say "It's art, because there's this neat game here which is hard to understand!" And we argue about it, moving games back and forth between these two categories which we think are miles apart. Guys, there is no distinction! Games are entertaining! Games are artistic! That's the end of the story.

So when you ask me if games are art, it may be that in fifty years people will look back and say, "All those videogames? All those early videogames, like Zelda and Myst and all that? Those were art.". But I really hope they don't. I hope that in the future we'll be more enlightened, and we'll stop dividing things into art and entertainment.

You could make a game that's similar enough to old art forms that a guy in the 1800's would say: "Ah, that's art." There's nothing wrong with that. Actually, that's really good, to try and be more intellectual or focused on aesthetics. But thinking that that's a whole different world from the "lower" forms of entertainment, and that we've gotta let games be one or the other, that's just wrong. Games don't have to pick a side. At least, they shouldn't have to.

Now, something which makes me… hopeful for the future is that these days, if you're talking about games, you don't talk about it being "artistic" or "entertaining", you say it's "fun". Which can mean both things, because "fun" doesn't mean anything. Entertainment is fun and art is fun. Everything's fun if it's good. So maybe this is, like, a sign that we're throwing away the old categories. And people still hold on to those categories and say that only this can be fun, but maybe that'll go away. Maybe.. Well, I guess what I'm saying is I just hope we get out of this way of thinking.

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Thursday, April 17, 2008

Deadline: Tuesday (22/4)

(update: 18/4, 4:16)
Um… hey. Look, Tuesday really isn't convenient. Tomorrow's Shabbat, then is the first day of Pesakh, and then on Tuesday there's a whole day of games over at Avri's house. And on Monday I'm really gonna need to recover from Shabbat and the first day of Pesakh. Y'know- that's gonna be really painful emotionally. So I'm gonna want to have fun on Monday. And today I'm… doing stuff. So Tuesday's no good. Tell you what, why don't we just delay the deadline by, say, a week or so?
Deadline: Tuesday (22/4)
Oy.



Progress report:
Page 10 complete.

0 Comments:

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Monday, April 14, 2008

Internet Nations

Culturally, I'm an American through and through.
Stop reading now! He wants you to think this is an innocent post, but eventually he's going to get to videogames and Wiis! It's a trap!
I thought you had left.
It's a public service.
Go away.

As I was saying, I'm an American as far as culture is concerned.

I watch American TV shows and movies.
I read American comics.
I play games adapted for Americans.
I speak American English.

Not too long ago, this would be very difficult and undesirable for a person living here. If you live in Israel, you speak the Israeli language and you watch Israeli TV and you read Hebrew books and you expose yourself to Israeli culture, just because that's what you have. And you learn to like it.

Ah, but the internet is breaking down borders, isn't it? I can get American entertainment just a few hours after they get it themselves! I can spend an entire day talking with people online without hearing a single word of Hebrew! The internet has everything short of the essentials: housing, food, water, electricity. (I look forward to the day when those are covered as well.) And it's accessible to everyone, without borders. The internet doesn't care where you live.

..in principle, at least. Where this isn't true is whenever big corporations are involved. If I go to the website of, say, an American TV network, it won't let me see its streaming video. It checks where my service provider is. For some reason, the American companies don't want to lose the national borders. Maybe someone can explain to me why, because I have no idea.

A lot of media is still distributed in physical form. There are a few reasons for that. First of all, it's to prevent piracy. (This doesn't work, as my entertainment habits attest.) Secondly, people who haven't learned to access everything by computer yet think there's some intangible essence of media that's lost if they make the change. This position is wrong and will disappear with time. (At this point, I wouldn't want to see comics on anything but a computer screen.) I'm sure there are some other reasons too, but I'm not particularly interested. What matters is, discs and paper are still around. That's a problem.

I've mentioned the difficulties of getting videogames here before. If not for the rampant piracy on the internet, I would never have discovered videogames at all, since they have next to no presence at all here. Nintendo doesn't sell to Israel, not because they have anything against us but just because we're so tiny and insignificant to them. So if you want a Nintendo system, you've got to pay four times the price to get an imported one, for which it's rare to find any actual games here.

I thought the Wii would be different, because you can buy games through it directly from the internet. No shipping, just a direct download from Nintendo's servers to my system. Well, it doesn't work that way. It demands a billing address which is in Nintendo of America's territory (North and South America). If you don't have one, you're not allowed to download. (I called the technical support, who were very surprised that anyone in Israel would have an American Wii. They were no help.)

The only way, I learned, to get these games off the internet (and they are only available from the internet) is to buy a special card. Each one represents a certain amount of money, and it has a code you can type in to retrieve it from the online store. These cards can only be bought in America, of course. I can buy one online off of Amazon, but they won't ship it outside of America. Nintendo doesn't want to sell to anyone outside America.

Someday, big businesses may finally get the idea of the internet. I look forward to that day impatiently.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

As usual, it turns out I saw a problem where there was none. The Wii Shop works fine! Moshe suggested I try buying something with a billing address unrelated to the credit card. It wouldn't have occurred to me that this might work. But I tried, and it did! It doesn't actually seem to care where your billing address is. So now I'm having a blast with Super Mario 64 and The Legend of Zelda. It looks like I'm not going to have any trouble.

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Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Waiting for progress.
Suspending until Sunday(06/4)…

Progress report:
Page 8 written.
There are severe glitches.
This is unacceptable.
Suspending until Wednesday(09/4)…

Page 8 is now complete.
Page 9 is also complete.

0 Comments:

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Monday, March 31, 2008

The Garden: Movement

Previously:
Gamism Theory

The player makes a movement, either himself or through a computer avatar. When that simple action is the dominant element of an experience, you've got a movement game.

The primary content of a movement game is its control scheme. There are a lot of established and potential genres for movement control: flight, platformer (jumping), driving, swimming, climbing, running. (These are commonly seen as totally distinct Forms.)

Movement games will always exist. Moving around is the most natural thing for us to do, to the point where we get bored if we don't keep moving. And each time new hardware brings new kinds of controls with it, gamists are instantly inspired with subjects for potential movement games.

Some types of movement are fun to begin with. Flight, for instance. Everyone wants to be able to fly. Other types of movement are pretty boring, but you can make fun games around them by adding challenges.

Take a mouse cursor, for instance, like the one you're probably using now. Move it in a circle a few times. Okay, I take it back- that is pretty entertaining, for some reason. (I guess I'm easily amused by such things.) But there's not enough entertainment there to fill a long game with.

So you add another element native to movement games: obstacles. These are objects which may not be touched, or else you lose. Suddenly, you've got something more worthwhile. You're not just randomly waving your hand around, you're challenging yourself to move around skillfully. Another native element is the reverse: objects which you are encouraged to touch, perhaps with points or additions to the control. (Objects which add abilities are usually called "power-ups".)

Already that's enough for a good time. Here's a good illustration: Squares

More can be built on top of these elements, which is also well-established as a part of the Form. The frequency of obstacles can be manipulated to create dynamic levels of intensity. Power-ups can be used to add temporary variations on the gameplay. Plus there are other variations on the do touch/don't touch mechanic: objects which must be touched or approached, walls which may not be touched, objects which may be touched from one side but not another, objects which are bad to touch until you touch something else, and then they're good. The objects can move around in set ways, and the player can progress through entire worlds made of positive objects, negative objects, and neutral objects.

There might also be clear instructions on which moves to make, which you are then required to follow precisely. This is challenging even without any obstacles.

These conventions, which have accumulated over the years, can be put in the service of any sort of control, two-dimensional or three-dimensional (or one-dimensional, in the case of early movement games like Pong).

There's abstract movement, like the mouse cursor. (Now that I put it that way, I guess Ball Revamped is an "abstract movement game".) There are vehicles: cars (which are called "driving games"), planes (which are called "flight games"), boats (which aren't called anything, because there aren't enough games like that). There's dance, where all movement corresponds with how a real human body would move around. (Real-world dance is a sub-Form of the movement game.) There's swimming and climbing and running and jumping. And then there's just plain human walking around, but who'd want to play a game about that? (It shouldn't be a pure movement game if that's the type of movement.)

Movement, being such a useful activity, is often used as a subordinate element in other types of games. This is so common that it can often be seen as a tool given to the player (much like camera control or an option menu), rather than entertainment in and of itself.


Notable sub-Form
A popular element in movement games is a timer, where you have to reach a certain point before the timer runs down. Games in which this element gets a large focus are called racing games. This sub-Form has accumulated many conventions of its own over the years, evolving out of the emphasis on speed: repetitive environments, competitors, special floors which speed you up, etc. Though most racing games are in the driving genre of control, any other sort of control could be used in a racing game provided it is possible to move fast.


The movement game is very close to the action game. If you move to push something, which do you look at as the dominant element: the movement or the pushing (which is encompassed in the action Form)? If the former, then it is a movement game. If the latter, then it is an action game. This distinction is ambiguous, and many conventions are shared by the two Forms. However, there exists a hybrid (action movement game) when both movement and action are prominent. (The action-platformer is the most common genre of this hybrid.)

The movement game is also close to the exploration game. Though it is possible to see a world from a distance (which is unrelated to the movement Form), it is more appealing to step into the world via some sort of control. Since movement can become such a defining element of these experiences, it is not incorrect to classify these games by their controls rather than their world design. Movement games often include detailed worlds, but when this as well as the control is a focus the game is a movement-exploration hybrid. (Super Mario 64, for instance, is an exploration platformer.)


When gamism expands to interface directly with our brains, the movement game will give us different bodies and states of being, so that we can feel what they would be like. That is what movement games strive to be.

Droplets: Movement

You're playing a platformer, jumping around, when you get to a jump that looks tricky. You press the "practice button", and your precise position and circumstance is saved instantly. Then you try jumping. You don't make it, so you press the practice button again. This time it jumps back to where you just saved, so that you can try again. You fail again, and press again. Back to the spot. And so on, until you make it through perfectly. You practice a few more times just to be sure you've got it, then hold the practice button down for two seconds. The save point is erased, and you're playing for real. If you make the jump, you can continue. If not, you need to start back from the beginning of the level. This function could be abused, so a limit might be placed on its usage. With each level, the player might only be allowed to use the practice in, say, four spots of his choosing. (This number could be adjusted on a level-by-level basis depending on the length and difficulty level of the level.) Or the practice mode could be entirely outside of the main game, as is done in certain existing games.

Controls needn't be constant from the beginning to the end. They can change dynamically to express different emotions. Ease of movement is freedom, restricted movement is oppression. Physical attraction to certain objects can symbolize metaphorical attraction, and one path being more freeing than another indicates a character's preference. Gravity can change, friction can change, acceleration can change, appearance can change, the interface itself can change. These things can change suddenly or gradually, they can be jarring or subtle. Changes can happen for artistic reasons or just to keep things fresh and entertaining. In any case, there are many emotions to work with when one starts changing controls along the way.

A story could be told with those emotions. Not a story like game "developers" put in movement games now- movie-like literal plots told in cutscenes and voice acting. Those stories clash with the reality of the game. No, I'm talking about stories expressed through movement. Characters who move differently around each other than they do alone, to reflect their relationships. Characters with arcs, represented by control dynamics rather than dialogue. Places where the rules of movement work differently, to represent the nature of their societies.

Abstract stories can also be created in the manner of dance, where the player is told how to move and the emotions those movements create are evoked in an audience, not the player himself. The audience may be watching over the internet, or in the same room, or in a performance hall. This changes the nature of the work to performance art. The player can be instructed through notation, overlayed on the screen during practice. In the actual performance, a large number of players can coordinate with each other- this would be a technically impressive performance.

A cooperative movement game. One player goes on the other one's back, then pulls his friend up. One player touches a switch, so the other one's obstacles move away. The players swing each other, or are pulled by each other, or coordinate with complex machinery or maneuvers. One player teaches the other how to make unusual moves. Alternatively, the two players could have very different types of control. What one can do, the other cannot, and they can only progress together.

Life-counting is silly.

New types of controllers completely change the feel of movement controls, and new types of control are inspired every time such controllers are introduced. But gamists could go farther. Small controllers could be bundled in with movement games, where the controller is designed for the game and not vice versa. Or the gamist could decide to use existing controllers in unusual ways, as when Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat used drums for running. The Wii controllers can be attached to legs, or arms, or to many parts of your body all at once (with four of them). Or a platformer could be played on a trampoline. Or a plane could be moved by subtly tilting your arm (with a camera). These are not superficial changes- they would profoundly change the experience of movement.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

The distinction I make here between action games and movement games is wholly arbitrary. Indeed, it is valid to consider everything I am describing here as contained within the action game. I have invented the term "movement game" because within this Form I see the potential for beauty, whereas the action game (as far as I know) can only aspire to intensity.

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Friday, March 28, 2008

Progress report:
There has been no progress.
This is unacceptable.
Subject may be responsive to deadlines,
Evidence: successful Megillah readings.
Solution.
This report will now be suspended.
Continue on Monday (31/3).


Update
It is now Monday.
Subject has not made progress.
I genuinely tried, I really did. I've been trying for hours now. I'm just stuck. I can't get the math to work out. I've been fighting with the way BlitzMax uses variables, and I've been fighting so much I can't even think of what it is I'm trying to do anymore. I'm just totally lost.
Excuses.
There has been no progress.
You may not write a post.
I understand.
This post will be followed only by another progress report.
But that'll ruin the blog! What if I can never finish this page?
Then this post will be followed by an infinite number of progress reports.
I did my best! What do you want from me- I'm not a programmer.
You must become a programmer.
Your excuses will stop now.



Update, update, update! I finished page seven! And it's still Monday!
Checking file…
Confirmed.
Page 7 complete.
Posting privileges granted.

5 Comments:

Tamir said:

I find that the two things that really get me to be productive are deadlines and working with other people. I don't know who you could work with, but I felt like I should mention it.

OpenID stone_ said:

Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-).

 Mory said:

If I can't work out my problems with Smilie, this blog is not going to be likeable or interesting for much longer. It will just be a monument to my failure as a human being.

 Mory said:

I should have mentioned in the post what motivated me so quickly: For an hour or so after writing the post I was seriously depressed. I didn't want to do anything that I'd enjoy: playing games, reading comics, watching TV shows, browsing the web. I couldn't take my mind off my lack of self-respect, and I knew there was no way around it except to write page 7. So I wrote page 7.

OpenID stone_ said:

If you want any mathy programming help with anything, I'm happy to consult on such things :)

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Sunday, March 16, 2008

Please Insert Change

Previously:
My family
The thing that bothers me most about my family is that there is not one person in it who can appreciate The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. When you play a game that good, you naturally want to share it with someone, but there is no one here who cares.
the mundane and The Imaginary!
What a surprise! I don't believe it- all my Imaginary Friends have come! You really didn't need to go to all this effort. It's so nice to know I still have all you guys.
The Trip: Snapshots
We had a Ping Pong table out, so two of us were playing on that. And the other two were playing pool. And we went back and forth between the two games, and we'd watch each other's games. I'd never seen our family before as anything but an odd assortment of mismatched parts, but in this multiplayer environment it all just clicked.
The Multiplayer Experience
[I started] playing with Mickey and Michael. And man, is it fun. I wouldn't have known to spend time with these guys, because they are much younger than me in the Real World. But in the game, they might be just as old as I am. I mean, they're good players.
Some things don't ever change. Friends come and go, circumstances change, new developments happen all the time. Some parts of life are no fun at all, and some parts are overloaded with fun. But all this happens around objects which appear static and unmovable.

I never see the lack of change coming. I always promise myself that things are going to be different very soon. This drives me, as it drove me to buy the Wii a year or two earlier than was convenient. So one day when we were all driving together for some reason or another, I proposed my idea to my family. For my birthday, I didn't want food or even to leave the house. What I wanted was, for a whole day on 21 February, to sit at home and play multiplayer games.


I imagined Miriam playing Wii Tennis. I imagined Dena playing the simple minigames in Wii Play. I really wanted the chance to force my mother to play a level of Super Mario Galaxy. I imagined all four of us sitting around playing Pac-Man Vs.. And I imagined that just maybe, if I used my birthday in this manner, they might realize Nintendo games are fun and start playing one for themselves.*-------
(I didn't actually consider playing with my father, who's always running from one place to another.)
Everyone in the car agreed to this plan. Miriam and Dena teased that they'd take the opportunity to get off from school. And I started thinking that maybe those unmovable objects in my way weren't quite so unmovable. And very soon, I'd get to the other side.

In the days preceding the event, I went to all my friends who might possibly come. That way, at any point I couldn't get my family to play, I'd still have something to do. (If worst came to worst and no one showed up, I planned to go back to Tallon IV in my downtime. That's always worth a visit.) So I told Moshe to come. And I told Harel to come. I told Tamir and Eli to come. I told Michael to come. I told Avri to come. I told them to come whenever it was convenient.

Avri deserves special mention, because I haven't mentioned him before and his games night has been a big deal for me. Avri was playing great videogames back in the 80's, and not so long ago he and his wife Lorien moved next door. Nowadays he's a big fan of German-style strategy games, so every Tuesday at 7:45 a bunch of people (myself included) go to his house to play strategy games until around midnight or so. When I first started going it showed me a whole world of games I hadn't even heard of, and I was pretty overwhelmed. The other players took a lot of time on each turn, planning and anticipating and analyzing. So it took me months to win any games at all. Once I did, I started feeling like I had a place there. From then on, I've been vocal about what I'd like to play each week: Sticheln. It's a card game. Though I never do well at it, I enjoy the gameplay. I suggested Sticheln so often that it became a running gag: Avri would ask "What should we play?", I'd yell "Sticheln!", and everyone else would groan in unison "No, Mory.". But I digress.

I came back late after the games night of the 20th, happy for winning one game and coming close in another. And on the walls were the best birthday signs I'd ever seen. There were drawings of rain drops taped to the back door, with a thoughtful-looking rain cloud face nearby. It made me smile.

That night, I had a lot of trouble sleeping. The closer I got to the moment of change, the less I was able to imagine what it might be like. And all that was left was uneasiness.



I started the day off with a bit of bowling with my mother. I saw this as warm-up, she saw it as fulfilling her obligation. Then she went to work, which is what she'd much rather do than play games. Miriam and Dena were at school.

Harel was the first to show up. I'd been eager to show him the Wii. I played a lot of games with him. Then we started a game of Metroid Prime 3, so that he could see how first-person shooters play on the system. Then Eli came, and Harel left, and Eli played for a while. Then Michael came. And Mickey, even though he doesn't live here anymore! And Tamir showed up bringing some good snacks. And Avri came with a gift: a Sticheln deck! Toward the end of the day, we had four-player games of Pac-Man Vs. going, with myself and Tamir and Tamir's friend Esther and Avri. And even Lorien showed up, because she wanted to see what the tennis was like. It was nonstop fun.

And when we went down for cake, I saw an opening given that so many people were down there at once. So I played my latest piano piece, and they listened. And Avri said it sounded like it would work nicely in a videogame, because it was epic and emotional.

And then we went back to playing. During this time, I kept trying to get Miriam and Dena in for a game or two of Pac-Man Vs., but they kept dodging. They had better things to do than play games, apparently. My father, I found out only later, had wanted to join in, but while he was home the den was constantly packed!

Moshe showed up around 10:30 or so, after most of my friends had left. I played a few small games with him, then went down to eat. It was only at this very point that I felt hungry, even though I hadn't eaten since lunch, because in a choice between food and games there's no choice. And we talked about random things. And then it was very late and I didn't want to wake my parents, so we went outside and kept talking. And talking. And talking. Moshe's a lot like me, you know.


On a rational level, my lack of a connection with my family does not matter. So what if they don't play games? I have people I can play games with. So what if I can't talk with my family? I've got people I can talk to.


And yet, it does matter to me. These are the people I see all the time. Not having a connection there does create a certain emptiness.

It is my hope that no matter how much fun I may have, that emptiness will (on some level) drive me.

1 Comment:

OpenID stone_ said:

Your birthday party was fun. I don't get how people don't enjoy video games. I can understand not having time, or not getting entirely enthralled by them, but to not enjoy any types of games is just weird to me.

By the way, I just finished playing through Yahtzee's 1213. The alternate ending was ridiculous.

I'm glad you enjoy game night. I'm really happy that it's been so successfull and we have the draw that we've been getting. You've also become a pretty good competitor too.

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Progress report:
Page 6 is in playable form.
Page 6 is awkward.
Page 6 is likely to contain bugs.
Page 6 will need more work later.

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Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Almost Possible

A few weeks ago, I was cast into the chorus of a production of Beauty and the Beast. I was really excited about the opportunity because I'm a big fan of Alan Menken's music. I was disappointed to not get a bigger part, but I understood on a rational level that I wasn't good enough for any more than chorus.

The play has since been canceled, which was both a relief and a disappointment. A relief, because I had started to get scared by the responsibility of being there. Hearing the news was like a weight taken off my shoulders.

But on the other hand, it had just started to get fun. It was just like old times, in the chorus with Uri Aharon at Dvir. Once again I had my small group of peers I sat with, this time including Moshe! Once again I was working with a very nice singing director- in this case Moshe's sister Aviella. Once again I acted like a know-it-all, correcting the director at every perceived mistake, to overcompensate for not actually being very good. Once again I was going to my beloved Jerusalem on a regular basis. Once again I was making a fool of myself regularly. Yep, just like old times.

Oh well.



A while back, I went to meet a group of videogame creators in Tel Aviv.
That's it, you're done.
What? But I haven't-
You're done. Stop writing.

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Progress report:
Page 5 is complete.
Here is a complete list of
the challenges Page 5 posed:
  • Smilie had to jump.
  • Smilie had to smile.

Page 5 took the subject 34 days.
In my defense,
*bzzt*
There will be no defense.

The subject is lazy and unproductive
and will only be allowed half a post.

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

Progress is progress regardless. Keep up this pace, and you'll be done in just a few years!

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Thursday, February 14, 2008

Two Glasses

Previously:
An Evil Statement
Tension causes progress. If the world were to one day become completely happy and show no signs of ever stopping, it would be at a dead end. That would be the appropriate time for God to destroy the world completely.
♫ Some Day Myself Will Come… ♫
But none of these fantasies possessed my imagination like the dream of my future self coming back to get me. So strong and constant was this wish that I didn't think of it as a fiction, so much as a destiny. I would never speak of this with anyone, but deep down I knew that at any one of those banal, pointless days, he would come for me.
Ariel's house was imperfect. He had built it himself, and -having only built the one- was far from all-knowing on the subject of construction. And so the house needed constant maintenance to keep from slowly collapsing.

Nonetheless, Ariel was quite proud of his achievement. There was a mirror on one wall, reflecting the entirety of the house's interior. And when he gazed into this mirror, he saw exactly how he fit in with his achievement. He was a part of the house, and that thought gave him comfort. So he spent much of his days staring into the mirror.

On the ceiling above that was a skylight built into the roof, built to keep the house bright. Looking upward did not give a sense of comfort. By day the sun would hurt his eyes, and by night the countless stars made Ariel feel small and insignificant. And whenever he raised his head to look through it, he also perceived cracks in the walls, severe enough to take the entire house down! So he would work tirelessly to fix the cracks before it was too late.

Once, an entire week went by in which Ariel peered only through the mirror, and never the skylight. It was a happy week. That is, until a piece of the house fell on Ariel's head! He survived the blow, and quickly set to work. It was almost too late, but he managed (with much difficulty) to preserve the house. It was then that Ariel realized his folly, and he smashed the mirror into a thousand pieces.

So caught up in the emotion of the moment was he, that he forgot to send the mirror outside before doing so. And so the floor was covered in shards. To this day it hurts Ariel to walk in his own house, but the house still stands.

0 Comments:

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Thursday, January 24, 2008

Progress report:
Pages 3 and 4 complete.

2 Comments:

Anonymous said:

how is the smiley thing coming along? is it working well?

 Mory said:

No more progress to report yet.

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Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Wii

At long last, I have a Nintendo Wii.

This new system, unlike the Gamecube, has no clear personality. If it is defined at all, it is defined by contradictions and disagreements.

It is wonderful to have an avatar in my own image to play with.

The controls are ridiculously sophisticated. But each game uses only the bare minimum of sophistication it needs. The result? The games are so intuitive both my parents (who I have never managed to get to play games before!) were instantly able to beat me at bowling.

Wii Sports is awesome. Especially its tennis game. It should have more depth. But it is already fun in the sense that NES games might be fun.

The interface does not prioritize game-playing.

I didn't want Wii Play, a collection of random mini-games. It is missing many important features, such as four-player multiplayer and extra ways of playing. It is surprisingly fun.

Super Mario Galaxy is not quite as accessible as I hoped. It is a classic.

Wii games are not better than Gamecube games.

Metroid has been turned into a FPS. It is a pretty good FPS.

I still can play Gamecube games, and in fact I frequently am. There is not a sharp division in my mind between Wii games and Gamecube games. The Wii opens up possibilities. It does not decide between them.

There are many old games I'd like to play on the Wii now. I look forward to being able to buy them directly from the internet.

The motion-sensing controls give me a million ideas. I don't expect any of them to be created. I don't know what sorts of games will be created anymore.

Even the bad games are fun when they are gimmicky.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess is much better in its Gamecube version.

Miriam and Dena still won't play. Maybe they're just busy. Maybe I should give up.

There seem to be a lot of games for Wii (out already or coming soon) which I'd enjoy playing. Maybe I'm more open to casual games than I used to be.

There isn't enough focus for me. I like stories with focus. I don't know what the Wii is.

This is fun.

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Thursday, December 27, 2007

Progress report:
Page 1 and Page 2 are complete.
Subject has started work on Page 3.

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Monday, December 24, 2007

Inspiration

"Where do ideas come from?"

Famous creative people are often asked that question, and they never have satisfying answers. Whoever's asking the question feels like there's some great repository of inspiration that they haven't found.

But it's the wrong question. Artists get their ideas from everything they see. A writer might get an idea for a short story by looking at a toaster. Even if he happened to remember that that's where he got the idea from, it wouldn't mean anything.

The right question is "How do ideas come?" And you're in luck, because I happen to know the answer to that.

Ideas come from imitating elements, correcting mistakes, utilizing available tools and fulfilling needs.

They might not look like much, but all creativity is based on these four simple principles.





Imitation
This is when you look at something and say "I could do that!".

You see a person in the Real World, with a personality that surprises you. You see an opportunity: "I could entertain people with these characteristics!". So you write down a story, about a person who is defined by those traits that you found interesting.

You watch a movie, and analyze its structure. "Hmm.", you say, "That's really not so complicated!". So you use that structure yourself.

You see a pretty sunset. You say: "I could impress people with those colors!". So you draw a painting of the sunset, or use its colors on something else.

This is the least impressive kind of inspiration. If someone notices that you took an idea from somewhere, they redirect some of their admiration from you to whoever you got the idea from. So you've got to be subtle in your imitations. Imitating format or technique is fine. Imitating very vague ideas is fine. Imitating individual characteristics is fine, but not if you imitate too many all from the same place. (Better to take just a little bit from here, and a little bit from here, and a little bit from here…)

Imitating impressions you get from nature, or phenomena which aren't controlled by individual people (such as politics or society), is perfectly acceptable. You can also repeat yourself, especially within a single work. (This suggests to the audience that you know what you're doing.)


Correction
This is when you look at something and say "I could do that better!".

When you see a good idea badly implemented, you start thinking about what it should have done.

You analyze your dissatisfaction, to see where it went wrong. Maybe there's a flaw in the creators' thinking, maybe you just personally disagree with their approach. Either way, you end up with an idea you like better, and which you wouldn't have come up with without being dissatisfied in the first place.

(I think it's important to be exposed to things you don't like, so that you can learn from them.)

You hear a story of pure good vs. pure evil, and it leaves you cold. You think about what you want from the story that you're not getting. Maybe you're looking for people to relate to, and they're too simple and un-human. So you come up with variations on the characters which make them more flawed, or more like people you know in life.

You see all the problems with society, and start analyzing the problem. Through this analysis, you might come up with an idea for a better society.

Sometimes the ideas you come up with are better than the ones you're rejecting. Sometimes they're not, because they've got all sorts of problems of their own. Either way, it's nice to try.


Utilizing tools
This is when you ask "What can I do?".

You have a paintbrush. You have a canvas. You draw a line. The only reason you drew that line is because you wanted to do something with that paintbrush and canvas.

It is possible to have inspiration in a vacuum. If you just fool around with your tools enough, eventually you'll (by accident) find something you like doing with them.

By "tools" I don't just mean literal tools, I also mean techniques and potential subjects.

Basically, this is like a baby throwing toys around to see what happens. The artist tries everything he can, whether or not he thinks it'll be good, whether or not he thinks he'll enjoy doing it. Just by trying things for the sake of trying things, he'll find a good idea.

This type of inspiration is how you'd write a rhyme. You've got a sentence you'd like to start from, and you need to continue it somehow. You don't know how, so you just throw words around in your head until you come up with one that rhymes. Then you fill in the rest of the line. If that doesn't work, you throw around more words and repeat. If you're still not satisfied, you try something else for the first sentence and start over. With patience, you eventually come up with something that works.

Every time the technology available to artists improves, it sparks a lot of inspiration in a lot of people. The artists try to think of every possible usage of the new tool, whether or not there's any reason for it, and eventually one of those many ideas seems like a good one.

This is not a reliable method of inspiration, but often it's all you've got.


Fulfilling needs
This is when you ask "What should I do?".

It's the easiest kind of inspiration, probably because we're all so experienced in it from dreaming. You're missing something in your life, so you invent it.

You're lonely, so you write a story about people you'd like.

You find the world confusing and uncontrollable, so you make a painting with a clear and simple order to it.

Often you'll come up with the idea for a work of art just so that you can show yourself what sort of art you'd like to experience.

Or you might see that other people would like to experience a certain type of art. You might see an opportunity there, and come up with an idea to satisfy them. But this takes more effort and results in a weaker idea than if you focused only on yourself.





So there you have them, the rules of creativity. Now, I'm hardly the most creative person ever, so I might be totally wrong. If so, I hope you'll comment with an example of creativity which is not an application of these principles. But I'm pretty confident that all inspiration follows the same patterns.

So let's say a writer looks at a toaster. That's where he gets an idea from, which doesn't matter at all. But how does he get an idea?

First of all, he's bored. So he tries to think of all the possible things one might do with a toaster. (Utilizing tools) One of the many bad ideas he has is that people might strap them to their heads, and shove in bread whenever someone starts a conversation with them. That way, if the person talks for too long he gets hot, burnt toast shot into his face. (Fulfilling needs) The writer then decides he likes the idea of regulating the length of conversations. So he imagines a society where there are penalties for long blabbering. (Imitation of the previous idea) But something about that leaves him unsatisfied. He decides it's too much like a utopia, and devises a group of rebels dedicated to the cause of never-ending jibber-jabber. (Correction) He writes an amusing story about their efforts.

That's how an idea is born.

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Progress report:
Page 0 is complete.
(Page 0 is a very simple page.)
Work on Pages 1 and 2 is 62% complete.
(Total Pages: 0 To 50)

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Sunday, December 16, 2007

♫ Some Day Myself Will Come… ♫
A Fairy Tale

───────Timeline 1───────
Back in the days when I was younger and wilder, I had many dreams to fill my thoughts with.

I dreamt of programming a perfect replica of human intelligence. I dreamt of single-handedly creating hit science fiction movies. I dreamt of crafting educational software to put the school system to shame. I dreamt of writing "quests" the likes of which the world had never seen. I dreamt of gaining the respect and admiration of those who looked down at me.

But none of these fantasies possessed my imagination like the dream of my future self coming back to get me. So strong and constant was this wish that I didn't think of it as a fiction, so much as a destiny. I would never speak of this with anyone, but deep down I knew that at any one of those banal, pointless days, he would come for me.

Over and over I imagined how it would play out. He'd show up, a handsome adult, and declare simply: "I'm you from the future." Then I would ask him for the secret password, never written down and spoken to no one, which he would speak at once. (This was little more than a formality, as I would know as soon as I saw him.) And then he'd take me away to his studio and show me the tools and techniques he'd developed, so that I could join him for the rest of the journey. And in this way each of us would find the missing part of ourselves.

The days were empty and hated. Each one was exactly the same as the last. And through it all I waited, but my future self never came to the past.

The years have passed. What was once a near-certainty is now just another unfulfilled promise, like all those I've made to myself. And as the childhood schedules have faded away as well, I don't need to dream as often as I used to. But still I have not forgotten.

And so it will be that when I am thirty-seven, a man of little ambition and less achievement, I will go back in time to meet myself.



───────Timeline 2───────
I came to myself when he was eleven years old. He asked for the password, but I didn't remember it. So he asked me questions for three days (to give him ample time to consider what they should be), and I answered to the best of my ability. (This satisfied him.)

The relationship began with gifts. I first gave him a Nintendo 64 with Ocarina of Time, to point him in the right direction. Then Super Mario 64 to inspire, Banjo-Tooie to build his worldview up further, and Rayman 2 to break it down. Also Conquests of the Longbow to inspire, The Secret of Monkey Island to build his worldview up further, and Myst (and its sequel) to provide an alternative. Also Metroid II, and also Super Mario Bros. 3, and also Babylon 5, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Bone, and Uncle Scrooge, and Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, and many others over a period of twelve months.

He enjoyed the gifts and found his life enriched for them. But he was the sort of person who would always disagree with those around him, so he was disappointed in me from the start. He was expecting a hero, and I was only a man. But he loved me unconditionally.

And it was partly because of this that I learned discipline! He taught me to get my work done, because it is much easier to teach than to do for oneself. Every time he saw me, the first thing he asked was: "What progress have you made?". And I usually had a good answer for him, because I loved him and hated to disappoint him.

Meanwhile, I taught him to be a better person. Whenever he acted shamefully (which was sadly often), I'd criticize him for it. And he hated to disappoint me, so he'd always change.

But this was too good to be true, because his parents started to worry. Surely their boy should not be spending so much time with an old hermit! So I was forced to divulge my true identity to them. Unfortunately they didn't believe me, and nothing I said could convince them. So they forbade us from seeing each other.

One night, he ran away and found me. Against his objections, I brought him right back home where his parents were panicking. Getting him back was not enough for them, and they brought the matter to court. I couldn't let myself be found invading a foreign timeline, so I ran away.

The trip seemed to have been a failure, but not entirely. I had learned a new dedication which I applied to creating all the games I'd imagined when I was younger. Now I live in loneliness and disappointment, but this is a small price to pay for fulfilling a destiny.


This is not the end of the story. My younger self found new motivation from the disappointing future he witnessed. It gave him a fresh determination to do what I did not, and apply in practice the lessons he learned in principle from training me, thereby becoming a prodigy in game design. He and I have shared a long writing correspondence in secret, in which I point him in the right direction for smooth programming and we both share ideas.

And so both of us will eventually become very successful gamists in our own rights, and with fairly different styles. Soon he will have the opportunity to join me again, and together we will live and grow and create and be happy.


But I will die before my time, a result of a lifetime of ignoring my health. He will be heartbroken and go back in time to meet himself once more.



───────Timeline 3───────
He showed up when he was fifteen years old. The young self didn't ask for a password, having forgotten it himself. Nonetheless, the password was given. And that password sounded so familiar it raised many childhood memories, thus verifying the man's identity.

The boy was ecstatic- he'd waited so long, he'd just about given up hope! But here he was, the answer to his dreams, the one who would bring him to his destiny!

The relationship began with a long demonstration of the games we had made. The boy wondered at the absence of Squeak (an RTS he'd planned with Tuvia), of which the man had no memory at all. But he listened to the idea of it and concluded that it focused too much on theme and not enough on rules. The boy listened to these words and learned.

Myself taught my grandself more. He taught him every aspect of gamism: design, programming, music, writing tips. The two of them bounced ideas off of each other. And they were never lonely again.

The parents were told only that an old gamist was training their son. They were worried at first, but when they saw what their boy was producing they were proud.

And what games they were! We had made games that fulfilled our wildest dreams, but our imaginations had limits. But this version of us, introduced to games with the very promise that everything is achievable, had those borders removed right from the start! From then on, he objected to everything his older self suggested, because he was sure he knew better. And he did. He reached heights I can barely comprehend.

Through it all, they were the closest friends anyone could possibly hope for.

But it can't last. Myself will die long before his time, a result of years of obsessing too much over his health. And my grandself will go back in time to meet himself once more.



───────Timeline 4───────
In just a few months now, he's going to appear.
He'll show me his life's work and make me his peer.
He'll tell me the password, and together we'll go
Away to his newly formed games studio.
There, he'll assemble two competent teams
Giving both of us free rein to follow our dreams.
All of these games (plus the old ones) we'll sell
At just enough to pay our programmers well.
We'll watch as the world builds on what we've presented,
Thus proving that our legacy is cemented!
That makes for four timelines, which seems like enough,
So we'll fire our workers and pack up our stuff
And with just one look backwards we'll head out the door
Of the present, to travel through time just once more.
This time it's forward, to the future Earth
To meet all the games which our ideas helped birth!
We'll think and explore and be driven to laughter.
Through it all, we will live happily ever after.

2 Comments:

Anonymous said:

Wow.

Lorena said:

You write very well.

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Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Progress report:
Subject "Mory" has created 3 test programs involving character "Smilie".
Test2: identified as repeat of Test1.
Correction.
Subject "Mory" has created 2 test programs involving character "Smilie".
Subject has used the functions in Test1, Test3 to construct a framework.
Subject claims program "Smilie" will be built in this framework.
We do not recognize validity(statement), but cannot disprove it at the present time.

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Monday, November 05, 2007

The Seven Levels of Experience

Inspiration

Utility

Amusement


Perception

Irritation

Hindrance

Offense

3 Comments:

 Mory said:

"Inspiration" is when something fits in with your personal worldview, and reinforces and/or subtly changes it. "Offense" is when something clashes with your personal worldview, and reinforces and/or subtly changes your defense of it.

 Mory said:

I've been trying to justify this post's existence to myself, but I really can't. The idea is that these are the "atoms" that make up all experiences. But I can't think of any reason why I should want to break down experiences that far. (Other than general silliness, of course.)

 Mory said:

What I was trying to get at with "perception" is that it's only perception, and nothing else. Since that's not so obvious, it's probably not the best word I could have picked. It's all I could think of, though. Suggestions for a replacement word are more than welcome!

Anyway, that's (as its placement indicated) the "zero" of the bunch. Everything above it is positive, everything below it is negative, and the absolute distance from simple perception stands for how fully the work is appreciated.

An illustration:

There's a modernist painting hanging on the wall in an art museum. It's got squares and circles and lines.

One person looks at it and sees a bunch of squares, circles and lines. It makes no impact on him whatsoever. Even if he stands there for a while and tries to take it in better (and we'll say he does), it won't have any effect on him at all. He sees the shapes, and that's all there is to it. That's perception, the "zero" condition.

Another person looks at it and is in awe at the beauty of the placement of its shapes. Already that person's brain is being subtly rewired to reinforce that such-and-such shapes go well in such-and-such arrangements, which while not a perceivable change is still certainly a real one. This person is inspired.

A third person looks at it and is slightly offended. "This random assortment of shapes, with no perceivable meaning, is placed like a work of art?!" This is a very negative reaction, but it is a strong reaction. Already he is talking to himself, rewording and reinforcing his personal philosophy of art to explain to himself why he should dislike that painting. And because it's having this subtle impact on his worldview, I say he's having a more meaningful experience than the first person (who only saw the shapes), and more or less an equally meaningful experience to the second person (though in the opposite direction).

Person four looks at it and is also slightly shocked by the simplicity, but in a positive way. "Heh, lines." It appeals to his sense of humor. He is amused. This is a positive reaction, but it'll be forgotten almost as soon as he walks away. He's appreciating the painting to a very small degree. (Of course, this is not to say that there's anything wrong with his reaction at all.)

The last person doesn't care about this painting at all. He wants to get to the painting next to it, and this crowd of four people is blocking his way. It can be said that the painting is a hindrance. Now, this might seem a little bit strange, but I'm saying his (negative) appreciation of the painting is greater than the first or fourth person, despite barely seeing the painting at all! Why? Because it fits a practical position in his life while he's there, that position being "the thing that's preventing me from getting where I want". This is what I refer to as hindrance.


To sum up: If you see something, even if you are focusing on it very intently, but only see it exactly as it is (perception), the experience is neither positive nor negative and is a very small appreciation of the object. If it creates a momentary emotion, positive (amusement) or negative (irritation), that's a little bit stronger because as you see it it changes your mood. If it serves a practical function, either helping you (utility) or preventing you from doing something else (hindrance), it becomes part of the environment around it -which is a stronger appreciation for it. And finally, if it gets you to rewire your head a little (even very little) to deal with it (inspiration or offense), that's the strongest level of experience.


The only other thing I have to say about all this (at least, that I can think of) is that there are different degrees of experience even within one level, which depend on how compatible (or incompatible) the person is with the object and how much the person is focusing on the object. Oh, and one other thing (I lied.): these levels apply not just to works of art but also to absolutely everything (and everyone and everywhere) else, and it applies not just to complete objects but even the smallest elements that make up those objects.


Okay, now I'm done.

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Monday, October 29, 2007

Progress report:
Subject "Mory" has created a program.
The program has 0 practical value.
The program has 0.00007 amusement value.
The program is worthless and silly.
The subject has argued that in the making of this program, he has learned valuable lessons about programming graphical applications in Blitzmax, of a general and suspiciously vague nature.
This excuse is worthless and silly.
The task occupied the subject for
(*brlgo* ... *brlgo*! *brlgo brlgo*)
Error. Time too short to be counted.
Subject encountered 1 obstacle, fixed.
[number of obstacles very low, explanation: short and easy project]

Result: MouseWrap.exe

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Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Interview with an Ideal

He's nuts.
Well, there's a fine line between
genius and insanity...
Which he was nowhere near.
He was a mental case, through and through.
Well said.
You think so?
Look, I'm not saying he didn't make some good stuff...
..though he didn't...
but still-
Seriously, guys.
You don't do all that if you're crazy.
Sure, he was sorta weird,
but look where he got to in the end!
In the end? You mean the part where he's got so little to say he leaves a post blank or the part where he pretends someone cares? No, wait, you must be talking about the part where he never actually does anything! Face it, the end result of all this moping and complaining is a big 100-post shitpile of moping and complaining. Hoorah.
Wait, wait-
Now, you're not being fair.
This isn't the end of his life you're seeing,
it's just the beginning.
Wait, just a minute!
This blog hasn't been all that bad.
He's already done some good posts, and y'know,
I bet if you looked at the other blogs from that period-
Do we really have to argue
about the merits of early 21st-Century blogging?
Okay, yeah, it was pretty bad out there.
But who cares?
You're gonna look at this mess as a work of art or something?
'Cause I think it gave up on being an end in and of itself back in December 2005.
Yeah, but it oughta go somewhere soon.
Exactly!


Uh...

This blog so far has just been
the insane ramblings of an autist,
but somehow he's gonna end up where we know he does.
That's what makes the whole thing worth reading.

I just wanna know how long he's gonna take getting there!
(Because this is getting sort of ridiculous.)
You know what? I don't know what you guys are babbling about anymore, and I don't care. This? All this? It's shit. Ten years from now it'll still be shit. This kid keeps promising and promising, and never does a thing. All this stuff about games, and has he lifted a finger to actually make a game? Of course not! He'd rather bitch about how terrible the world is that he can't make a game in it, and how terrible society is, and how terrible money is. And when he's finished with that he comes up with figments of his imagination to pop up and explain everything, to paint it all as a little fantasy so that he can deal with this imaginary dream world he's got in his fucked-up little head and not the real world. It's all imaginary to him, all literary analyses of a silly little story, but it's NOT. And he doesn't get that. And that's why... When I came here, I thought he was gonna fuck up his life. But now I see that I shouldn't have worried, because you can't fuck up what never existed. He never had a life to begin with, and he's too much of a coward to ever start one!



Wow.
[sip]

Look, I don't want to sound condescending or anything, but...

Look, you don't have the perspective we have.
(Us being so far in the future and all.)
All this wasted time and craziness now is made up for by the fact that Buckman became a gamist in the end.
A good one.


Riiiight.


The future, huh.
Just a sec, I'll get you the file...
What file?
The AI file...
They made a record of Buckman before he died.
Sort of like the photographs of your time period.
Wow, you've really never played an AI file!
It's got the personality, the memories, ...
Where is it?
No, you're looking in the wrong place!
It's in that big area on the right.

This is such a mess.
No, that other one.
Yeah.
Oh, right. I see it.
Here you go.
Okay, you got me curious. I'll play along.


...

What am I waiting for, exactly?
It's still loading, give it time.


...


Hello.

Myself

Identity

Identity
Hey. You know who I am?
Sure, I remember you. You played my games!

"my games"
Did I like them?
No, you hated them.

Identity
Makes sense. So you're really Mory from the future? 'Cause these guys-
Actually, I'm Mory from the past. I mean, I was recorded back when- wait.
Wait, I remember writing this. Okay, right, I'm Mory from your future. This is pretty cool.

Achievements

Games

Blog
You still got your blog going?
Oh, yeah! I mean, not many people read it, but I really feel like -even with all the other games I've done and gotten credit for- I really feel like that blog is my life's greatest achievement, y'know? For the past few years I've never missed a day! Some posts are longer to write than others, so I'm always working on two posts at once- one simpler one and one big one that I give more attention to. So every single morning (I get up at 4.), I finish one blog post. I've found I need a strict schedule like that or it just never gets done. Oh, except I don't do posts on Saturdays. I can't write a post right after Shabbat because my Saturdays are so busy from start to finish I just don't have the time. Oh, but now I've gone on for much too long. I do tend to do that, but it's just because I'm really proud of the blog, y'know? And nobody understands why I care so much about a blog, they're like, "Why do you spend so much time on writing out your life by hand when you could just have an AI file" and now I'm blabbering again. Sorry. Sorry.

Games

Saturdays
So... you like your blog.
Yeah. But you know, it's not really like it was back in your time, I've made all sorts of-

Games
I don't care.


Games

Schedule
You.. like Saturdays?
"Like"? I can't live without 'em! I mean, I'm so busy all week long, Shabbat's the only time I get to have fun! I have a schedule of serials from the rest of the week playing on my computer, and the rest of the time I use to read. Then those few hours between Shabbat's end and going to sleep are the only time I get to play any games other than the ones I'm working on. I live for Saturdays!

Schedule
Interesting.


Achievements
And what have you accomplished, exactly? Are you some big games guy now?Hey. So you're Mory, the big games guy!So what have you accomplished, exactly? Are you some big games guy now?
Um.. yeah. That's me.

Games
Because I didn't think you could get there.
Well, it was always a struggle. Nothing comes easy in life. But it's like I always say: Anyone can be a gamist if they really want to. With gamism being as healthy as it is today, any type of artist can carve out a little niche for himself just by doing what comes naturally! Though I must admit, back in my day- it wasn't nearly so easy. Not at all! Well, it all turned out for the best in the end.

"what comes
naturally"
It comes naturally to you to make games? This is news to me.
What- you think I can't make good games? I'm not quite sure I get the insult. I mean, I know you didn't like my games when you played them. I remember that. Sorry, they're not for everyone. But I don't see why you'd question how I made them.

Games
When you were younger, nothing came naturally to you that involved getting off your ass!
I've changed.

Schedule
Wait, you said games are doing really well now? I mean, not that I don't like how they are now but do you think your games had something to do with that?
Well, I like to think so. For instance, I think my work with interactive fiction paved the way for more mainstream stuff like the interactive romances that are so popular these days. Well, it was really Jeffries that did that, but to a certain extent he was using what I'd built up.

Games

Romances
Oh, what a help to games: you helped other people make some games for chicks! *snort*
Hey, don't dismiss romances. I would've made one myself back then, if I knew how. It's definitely more important in the long term than a sci-fi action story!

Games
How do you figure?
Well, I think the interactive romances, set in the real world, were when people stopped seeing gamism as a niche. Only now is that change really starting to increase the variety of games, but it wouldn't have happened without getting the romance-fans interested.
Whatever.


Games
Oh yeah? WSo what games did you make?
You know, Through the Wind, Present-Self Defense, Dreams of a Fractured World, a bunch of little anthologies. Not exactly masterpieces, but I'm pretty proud of them all the same.
And you said you made actual games?
Well, the first few games weren't actually in stores -I let them out for free- but yeah. I made a platformer, two adventures, a big epic RPG, a bunch of random anthologies. Not exactly masterpieces, as I'm sure you'd agree, but I'm pretty proud of them all the same.

Antisocial
And I guess you made these games all by yourself?
Of course not! I work with an extremely talented team of developers living all over the world. Sometimes parts of the group will be working on other people's projects, so I use other parts. It's a very big team, and it's all very professional.






So what were your games like?
You want to know?
So what were your games like?Sure.What were they like?
I don't understand, aren't you- wait.

Wait, I remember writing this. Of course, this is the blog post with the interview! Wow, that was ages ago! This is pretty cool.
So what were they like.
The first one was a platformer- Well, actually the first game I made was a little two-minute interactive fiction, and there were a few other little things then, but Through the Wind was the first serious game I made, and that was a platformer. Present-Self Defense was an action adventure. Don't Miss was called a "collection of worlds"- now there was a financial flop. But I was proud of that, and the other little anthologies. And I just finished Dreams of a Fractured World, which is an RPG using "sequential art" as a base. They're all very personal projects, because it's just not worth it to spend all that time on a game you don't care about. If it were any other medium I might be open to the idea, but with games you have to make the whole foundation first, so there's twice the work. It's only worth doing that if the content means something to you. Sometimes years will go by without any major work because I'm stubborn like that, but I spend every minute I can spare of that time writing up my next big design document.

So all the games which I designed myself were very personal. They told stories about identity and change and all sorts of vague philosophical concepts. And with each one I also looked at whatever its art form was and said, "What needs to be done to make sure that that art form will have a clearer and healthier future?". And then I did that. So I'm told I'm arrogant from two directions: first, for these self-involved plotlines which the players aren't really controlling, and for acting like I know what I'm doing messing around with established forms.

Though just between you and me, I do. Know what I'm doing, I mean.

"healthier future"
Yeah, it sounds like you do. Huh.


"healthier future"
What was wrong with all those genres the way they were?But why mess around with all those different kinds of games? They're fun already!
Well, they had their charms, to be sure. And I admit that I took out many aspects that people liked each time I reworked a form. But they were unfocused. The gamists who were working on them (and often doing excellent jobs, to be sure) didn't seem to know what the forms were meant for, or where they should be going in the future. They just imitated the past successes and changed little bits here and there just to keep things fresh. So there were all sorts of elements there that were redundant - I took those out entirely. And there were some elements that were actually getting in the way of what I saw as the forms' potential, so I got rid of those too. A lot of other little things had become too rigid, like gamists were afraid that if they changed anything they'd mess something up. I changed those as much as I could, to demonstrate the range of possibilities. Because people thought that what had already been done was all that could be done. So I changed those elements recklessly. It always caused controversy, like when word got out that I was making an RPG without numerical statistics. Or when I made an adventure without any puzzles or exploring at all. But now we're starting to see games which, they aren't really imitating me, but they're doing things that those gamists might not have thought of before I broke the traditions.

That's what I've tried to do- break the traditions.
So what else do you do with your time?So what do you do these days, changed guy?
I create! I spend almost all of my day working on things. The blog, obviously, and any other games I'm directing, or helping out with games my team-mates are directing. I write music, too. Sometimes for the games, sometimes just because I've come up with a theme I like. Sometimes I meet programmers I'm friends with online, and throw ideas at them just to see if they can pull it off. Sometimes this stuff gets me inspired to write new designs, so it's not just for fun. Like right now, I'm working on a little experiment called Kwrk which evolved out of this little demo one of my programmers worked up. Those guys are just amazing.

When I'm not creating, I'm studying new languages. I'm already reasonably fluent in English, Hebrew, French, Russian, Japanese and Aramaic, so now I'm learning Arabic.
What do you need so many languages for?
Not everything good is written in English.
But still! There's no way you use all those languages.
Well, it's not like I use them all on a regular basis.

Okay, so maybe I haven't been using Aramaic a lot lately. And I don't expect Arabic to be so useful either. But I just like learning new languages.

And it really came in handy when I was making up languages for Dreams of a Fractured World.
Wow.

I like the traditions. You know, they're popular for a reason.
Okay. It's not like old-school games aren't still being made, occasionally.

Jobs

Friends
Have you had any other jobs, or did this dream job fall out of the sky with your name on it?
"Out of the sky?" You are strange.
Just, have you had any other jobs?
A long time back, I worked at this online library. I loved that job. Organizing all the games and books and movies and comics and music and old TV shows...

See, I've always loved to organize stuff. And I'm also naturally the sort of guy who's looking to give everyone else new experiences. I meet someone, first thing I think is "How can I give him a game or something that he'll like?". It's just what I do. So to mix the two together- that was tremendously fulfilling.

And you've gotta understand, this was coming off of the worst part of my life. Because before that, I did have other jobs, lots of 'em, and they were all terrible. So I kept to a schedule of writing my game designs on the side, and that moved forward quickly, but I never figured out how to get them sold until the middle of the library job. So I was just really depressed for years, and I felt like I'd never get anywhere, and then KFLUMP! -From out of the sky (like you said) falls this amazing job that gives me everything I need and makes me useful.

It was hard leaving that job, but I couldn't keep it up and have a serious career in gamism at the same time.
Have you got any friends these days, or do you still just hang out with your computer?Hold on- did you say you've got actual friends?
Sure, plenty of 'em. Only a few really good friends, but plenty of other people who I guess I'd call friends.


I do have a pretty nice computer, though.
And you got yourself a girl, too?
No. No, I don't expect I will.
Where do you live now?
In my dream house!

It's in a lovely little secluded forest, with lots of nice trees for climbing. And it's got the big theater room and the bedroom in the attic and the computer ten times bigger than it ought to be and all the other things I've always wanted.

It's not in Israel, though. I couldn't find a place for it in Israel. I do feel guilty about that.
Nice story.
Thanks. ..I think.

Home

Sum Up

Hm.
What?
Don't get me wrong, this is all very interesting, very impressive. But, see, the Mory I've met wouldn't get to any of this. So I'm wondering, exactly when did you turn from lazy-ass lump to all-around role model?
Ummm.. Well, one day I just realized I needed to actually do stuff, and I decided to start making games, and if you want something enough-
Bullshit! Listen to yourself, man, you're like a broken record!
VI, VI, VI,
VI, because...
VI, because...
VI, because...
I don't-
I admit, you had me going there. All these impressive answers you've thought up, very good. Bravo. For a moment there, I almost forgot it was all bullshit. So, bravo. But you blew it by repeating that old idea.
You've lost me.
Don't you fucking play around with me, I'm talking about when you make it all a story in your head, just like I said before! You don't want to actually do anything, so you convince yourself that all you really need is a thought, all you really need to get from here to there is the right thought, the right idea, the right string of words to throw onto the shitpile that is this blog, the right excuse!
But-
All you need is a title, or a psychoanalysis, or a story from your childhood, or a promise, or a goddamn blog post, and all those pesky things to do will just sort themselves out! But it's not real! This post isn't real, and your future guys aren't real, and you're not real!
But-
But I'm real, and I'm telling you-.. Oh my god.
Look, it's not-
I'm not real, either! You just put me here to be a part of your sick game, to turn all the real things you don't want to deal with into another fiction you can ignore! Well, fuck you and your interactive blog post and your delusions!
Hey, I don't need to put up with this!
*SLAM*







Well, that was...
interesting.
He was a mental case.









I wonder when the blog gets to the good stuff.

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

I just fixed a bug in the post. At least, I think I did. With a post this complicated, it's hard to be sure. I might have accidentally made a whole bunch of new problems. So if there are more than three buttons somewhere, or less than three, or if something's activating something it obviously shouldn't be, let me know, okay?

Blogger Zack said:

You're a great writer; your words are true as they are entertaining.
You say you want to become a gamiest, I think you need to go learn the trade (game programming languages which ever they may be)
You obviously have the Ideas, you just need to learn how to ACTIVATE them.

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Monday, July 09, 2007

Progress report:
Subject "Mory" has been mostly uncooperative. Subject was observed reading sample BlitzMax programs. Calculating value of reading operation: (*bllrp*)... 0. No mimicking of samples was attempted, so subject's progress is filed under "Concepts". ["Concepts": identified as subdirectory of "Trash"] Subject shows a lack of motivation. Solution: Moving to electric shock stage.

*bzzt*
Ow!

*bzzt*
Ow!

1 Comment:

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

Design board games :)

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Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Buxner in Concert

I start with four notes, and say: "You spot it as you're walking one day." Those four notes again. "It's lying on the ground, as though someone just angrily threw it away."...

I sing the melody line for the first four bars of "A Lonely Journey", quietly, very slowly and with minimalistic accompaniment. That gets the audience familiar with and interested in the main theme. Then I stop singing and switch to piano. I don't shy away from the tedious repetition at the end; I make it longer, and speak over it: "It's over as quickly as it began."...

I talk about The Rules, and then play "Variations On V.O.V." and the three following movements...

I play "Fugue State", with expert precision due to the eight hours a day I spend working on it. It repeats the rhythm with entirely different notes, in a difficult bit of composition which took me a long time, with one small comic tangent which is the same note-for-note in the two versions. Then it starts on a third melody line with the same beat, and at that comic interlude it drags it out immensely and ridiculously...

I sing the full song version of "Tomorrow", finally completed after years of...

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Tomorrow


Tomorrow, tomorrow is such a lovely day.
There will be rain and thunder
But this fog will fade away.
Today I merely wonder
What great role I'll get to play
Tomorrow.



1 Comment:

 Mory said:

The point of this poem may not be clear to someone who hasn't read the blog up to this point. So let me clarify: Tomorrow never becomes today.

 Mory said:

Tomorrow

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Saturday, March 01, 2014

Today


Today, today. What's there to say
about the ever-present?
It beats my stay in yesterday;
Tomorrow's never pleasant.
I could be lying somewhere, dying
absent drink or food...
I don't much like today, but I can't
say so - 't seems rude.



0 Comments:

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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Monday, April 07, 2014

Moebius, Part 4: Off-script

The panic of needing to get more money quickly has not settled in yet, but I'm sure it will and I'll find a way to adapt.

11/05/2012

Well, the first part happened.


When I decided to move out of my parents' house two years ago, I knew I'd never have the money to afford it until I didn't have any choice but to have it. I didn't quite understand, though, that just needing money wasn't enough. My naïveté came from the cushiness of my upbringing, I guess. My parents had to have several jobs to make ends meet, but they weren't quite poor by Israeli standards. There was always enough food to go round. I didn't quite understand that this was never a guarantee. I thought there was a miserable path you followed, and then at the end of the path society permits you to exist. But that's not how it is at all. Everyone is searching for that thankless path. That path is the dream.


Click on the underlined text to continue.

Money

I hate money.

I don't like making it.
I don't like using it.




I wouldn't mind having it.

Making money takes hard work, and once you're given money you've obligated yourself to continue. So when (inevitably) the work gets unbearably annoying, too bad. You've gotta keep going.
Only an ungrateful jerk does a bad job with money in his pocket. You're supposed to earn it. You're supposed to do such a good job that you balance out the guilt of stealing someone else's money.

It's never that good a job. It's never so perfectly done that it's worth more than whatever else they could get for the same amount of money.


When you use money, you don't have it. It's like the cake.

Yes, it's obvious. It's still annoying.

So a meal I buy and eat and forget is a long and replayable game I can't get. Whenever I make a purchase, I need to repress the guilt that I could have used that money better.


Money's not consistent. For fifty dollars, I might be able to get one game, or else three games, or else a hundred games, or else no games at all. The value of fifty dollars is anywhere from below zero to infinity! So even if I got an amazing deal, I'd always know I ought to have gotten more.

And yet, whenever I actually look at those fifty dollars, it's hard to escape the conclusion that it's worth nothing at all.

It's a piece of paper.

It's a piece of paper that's already written on, so it's not even good for keeping notes.




I guess you could use it for origami.


I'd like to make fun of money and say, "Why don't we just write our own numbers on the paper? Hey, I think this fifty-dollar bill should be worth fifty quintillion googolplex and ninety-three dollars, so I'll write it in!".

But we've already got that. It's called checks.

God, what a stupid world.




I don't buy my own food, as you might have gathered.
If I did, I'd live on bread and water.


Well... bread and Nestea at least. Some things I can't live without.

But I don't. Which means I don't think about money often. It's quite a luxury, because everything makes so much more sense without money.

If there's something of value, it's only of value because someone's enjoying it. It's of no value sitting on a shelf.

So the person who made it would want it to be enjoyed.
The person who would enjoy it would want it to be enjoyed.
The person who distributes it should want it to be enjoyed, because if it isn't then his job is a waste of time.
It should be enjoyed, and the enjoyer should be joyful, and society should be joyful and joyous and joysical.

This makes sense to my small mind.

The Real World does not.

The person who makes a thing of value doesn't see the value in it, he values money higher. The purpose of making anything, he says, is so that it can be put on a shelf and taken off a shelf and brought to a cash register which is the most holy cornerstone of the world may it be blessed a thousandfold where from the appointed fool will be taken a piece of paper with a number on it which holds an ineffably random meaning and we are not to question it and money is the nectar of life.

The item should be paid for, and the payer need not be satisfied as long as he is paying, and society need not be happy or mean anything as long as these pieces of paper are still going 'round.
The distributor wants to be paid.
The big companies want to be paid.
The government wants to be paid.
The consumer should want to pay because it is good and right and holy and because in return he may get a brief moment of something resembling joy dulled by guilt before going back to his meaningless work to get more money to get another such moment.
And most of all, the person who made the product needs to be paid, because if not then his work was worth nothing and he is worth nothing because all is measured in dollars and cents.

And sense? I'm not seeing it here. People can try to explain it to me -me, with my exceedingly small mind- but I'm left wondering why such surreal concepts are made so Real by society.

And quite a society has been built up. A society in which there is no value but money, so it is right and proper and beneficial to society to be a Capitalist. I'm not quite sure what the difference is between a Capitalist and a con artist, but I'm sure I'll figure it out some day.

A bad capitalist does a good job and refuses to take much money.

A good capitalist does the same job and takes as much money as he can get away with.

A great capitalist does the worst job he can get away with, convinces his victims through advertising that he's done a good job, and gets all the money he can dream of.

To my uneducated and poor eyes, Capitalism is all about ripping people off for as much money as possible.



So as I said, I think about money as seldom as I can get away with.

This doesn't make the guilt go away.

I still feel guilty for every little joy I get because I should be paying for it, because I should be only making myself feel guilty and not my parents as well.

Often I enjoy things that I'm not supposed to get near without lots of money, because this concept of a Capitalist society is so foreign to me. And then someone points out that I'm supposed to be paying for it, and then comes lots of guilt.


So when I heard of Socialism, I said, "What a great idea! A place with no money! Gee."

And then I was told that it's never worked and leads only to corruption and a lack of progress.










God, what a stupid world.

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

Amusingly, I think this post (or a certain motif in it) answers the last one.

You're right, of course - money is inherently valueless. It's just a convenience that was invented so we wouldn't have to trade for everything.

The fact that people see money as a goal? And that they'll go to any lengths to acquire more and more little papers? Well, I don't know, I don't understand them either.

As always, one needs to remember that the value of the job you're doing, of money and of what you use it for are in the eye of the beholder.

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Counting Blessings

God has granted me many gifts.

I have two parents who take care of me. At my age, they'd be perfectly within their rights to kick me out, but they don't. My mother always goes out of her way to be nice to me and my siblings, because that's just the sort of person she is. I don't know if I could have had a nicer person for a mother. And I think my father's really cool, but don't tell him I said that. Both of them work hard each day to provide us with everything we need.

I have plenty of food. Not everyone in the world has even enough food to keep from being hungry, but comparatively I eat like an American. There's always enough pasta and bagels and all the sorts of cheese I'd want to put on them and Pringles and ice cream and chocolate and Nestea and even lasagna. My biggest problem food-wise is always feeling stuffed.

I have a computer which only breaks down every other day. Some people don't get to have computers at all, or have computers which never work. I should know- my sisters have trouble doing the most basic things on their computer almost every day, and that's a newer computer than my six-year-old relic. But this relic still works.

I have constant access to the internet, which in turn gives me access to as much entertainment as I could ever want. Lots of people have internet access but wouldn't know where to find stuff to do on it. So those people might not know how to keep themselves occupied for a day, but I could keep myself entertained forever. Heaven on earth, my friend. Heaven on earth.

I've got other systems on which to play games: Gamecube, Piano, GBA. I haven't forgotten that most people don't have access to any of those, but I can use any of the three whenever I want, for as long as I want.

I've got three friends: one a few doors away, one a few blocks away, and one a few neighborhoods away. All of them are perfectly willing to chat about random entertainment on Shabbat. So while there's still plenty of wasted time on Shabbat, and I still dread its coming, it's not nearly as intolerable as it used to be.

I have such a great cat. Many cats are either too unfriendly or too intrusive, but Pussy Willow is neither. And even though we let him out whenever he wants, he never gets himself hurt. Fudgie's also such a good little dog- very obedient, not hyper like many dogs I've seen.

I have a sister I can watch Lost and Heroes with. How cool is that? Granted it's not as good as it was a little while back when she was reading comics, and granted neither show is on TV right now. But still, that's cool. I know having stuff to do with sibling doesn't come for granted.

My other sister mostly leaves me alone lately.

I have no real obligations. Six days a week are fantastic. These are the best days of my life.


Yep, I have it good. The only thing missing is meaning, since there's no meaning in happiness and happiness is my life. I'm supposed to be consistently miserable, with my only refuge from the suffering being my work- that is, the work of a gamist. But here I am, happy as a cat, with nothing fit to complain about. Why on earth would God want me happy?! Am I just not meant to be a significant part of his creation? Or am I supposed to make myself miserable, to make up for the lack of external misery?


But enough worrying about God's lack of attention. I'm off to have some fun.

8 Comments:

Blogger Betzalel said:

"Am I just not meant to be a significant part of his creation? Or am I supposed to make myself miserable, to make up for the lack of external misery?"
"So really, most of the things we look at as challenges to finding meaning in life are actually the real meaning in life. When evil people want to kill you because they're so different from you are, that's the appropriate time not to pray to God for help but to bless God for making such a beautiful world. The more diversity and tension there is, the more we see the brilliance of God's work. If there were no evil people in the world, there would be no point to the wise people's existence! With the evil people around, their lives have meaning. They go from people who sit around and be happy looking at their bright view of the world to people who get up outraged and yell "You're evil!" and aim for the teeth and try to stop the evil. That's movement. That's purpose."


Hm... the only meaning you see in life is misery and tension. You can relax - everything has a meaning, even you. Everyone wants to find a meaning, especially since man has the ability to do things other than just make a living. Otherwise you would be working for no reason at all. That's why you're bothered when you think about this.

What is the meaning in life?

In contrast to what you said in An Evil Statement, I think there is no meaning in progress. God doesn't sit and play games with us. Everything has a unique meaning just like your computer has a meaning and your games, and your chair all have an obvious meaning. Things God created have meaning too - to serve man. Only they're harder to see, and can only be proven by scientific knowledge. Some things - only God knows how they help people. Of course anyone can see, for example, the purpose of plants - to make fruit and vegetables for man to eat. Men need a whole ecosystem starting with plants, and on to animals.

What is man's purpose? Men do many things, from working fields to researching plants to making games. However, all of these jobs people have are only meant to satisfy man's existence and are no different from the tasks animals do. Therefore, the purpose of man is to do something that doesn't only continue man's existence - something that only man can do. These are the four choices (in a particular order):
(You can try to associate these with the 4 colors, but I can't find where popular culture and indifference fit here...)

<0) Having children and continuing the race - no meaning. This is what animals do.>

1) Many people think the meaning is to bring happiness to their lives, to enjoy life as much as possible, to get rich and buy everything that could make them happier - the perfection of the possession.

2) Others think the meaning is to become the best at something, to do everything to perfection, with the most efficiency - the perfection of the body.

3) Many think that it is their duty and meaning to help others, to make themselves better people and the world a better place - perfection of the ethics.

4) Some people think that the meaning is to learn everything they can, become great scholars and philosophers - the perfection of the knowledge.

In Judaism (according to the Rambam), the meaning is:
First - perfection of the ethics.
Second (but more important) - perfection of the knowledge, and the greatest of all wisdom is knowledge of God and His ways.

So - that's meaning, pick one!

 Mory said:

..or I could just play videogames, which has much the same effect as all four of those "meanings". It gives you constant goals, so that when you achieve the goals you feel good about yourself.

You're looking at meaning from the perspective of the individual person, which isn't what I was talking about. I was talking about the real meaning of the world, that would be there whether or not you went searching for it.

God doesn't care if you're happy. Why should he? He also doesn't care if any part of you is "perfect". If he wanted perfection, he wouldn't have created life. (And the universe would be much more symmetrical.)

So if you put that into your own life, that's all well and good. You can get through the day and say "I've achieved my goal today.", and that'll make you all warm and fuzzy. But it's not like you understand why you're really here.

Blogger Betzalel said:

OK, I suppose you're right about most of that.

You are avoiding long-term goals by playing videogames. I didn't think of that kind of goal... I have a hard time believing it is satisfying. When you get through the day do you feel warm and fuzzy and say "I've achieved my goal today.", or do you feel bad and empty and say "What a waste!"? You must be playing them for some other long-term reason (maybe so you can talk about it in some forum). Or could you just not be thinking about it?

Anyways, I think God does care if you're happy, so he gave everyone the ability to make himself happy. For example, if you feel that you accomplished a goal, the natural reaction would be happiness. Likewise, conting blessings and realising how much God loves you and wants to make you happy can also make you happy.

Also, I disagree that God put us here giving a special purpose to everyone in His ultimate battle in vanquishing evil. God doesn't care if you revolutionize the gaming industry, save the world or bring liberty to the Jewish people. He doesn't need anyone specific to do that. You could do anything you want, there's no special task God chose for you. (Unless He spicifically gave you one.) If you want, go ahead and be a significant part of his creation, or just some nobody like most people. It doesn't really matter.

On the other hand, God doesn't care if you're perfect, but he does care how much you try. The reason God put you here is, in my opinion, because God is kind and He wanted to give you rewards in the world to come. (It wouldn't be a reward if you didn't earn it, would it?)

 Mory said:

When did I ever say evil would (or should) be "vanquished"? You're making assumptions. I don't know for certain if God intends for evil to disappear. But I strongly suspect that he doesn't, since a world without evil would be so much simpler.

I only have one other thing to say: What you get out of videogames depends on how seriously you take them. If I manage one day to explore a new world, better my skills, overcome challenges and advance an engaging story, wow. That's a good day. It shouldn't surprise you at all to hear that that's the sort of day I'd like to live for.

If you were to approach a game as a time-waster, a casual habit, a light entertainment or a method of escape, you wouldn't get much out of it at all. Obviously. Though if I happen to be in the vicinity, seeing someone else enjoying the game just might make my day.

Gently nudging the direction back toward the actual content of the post: Today was a very good day. I played games on my own, I socialized both in person and on a forum, a younger friend of mine came over to play on the Wii, and I even got to play at acting a little. Plus I was irritated quite a bit. That's good too. This was a day to be thankful for.

 Mory said:

Oh, and I played lots of music too. And even listened to music, which I almost never do! Wow, this really was a great day.

Blogger Betzalel said:

I guess I misunderstood you. You seem to be talking about why you're really here, and if you're meant to be a significant part of His creation. I see that as: God wants the world to be getting somewhere and He gives everyone a purpose in this world, a way to improve it and make it better. That is what I was opposing to by saying "Also, I disagree that God put us here giving a special purpose to everyone in His ultimate battle in vanquishing evil." etc.

I really didn't understand the last sentance "Or am I supposed to make myself miserable, to make up for the lack of external misery?". I thought you meant that you were miserable because you felt you had no meaning. Maybe you could explain this again.

"I only have one other thing to say: What you get out of videogames depends on how seriously you take them..."

I only want to add that the four categories of satisfying goals apply for everything someone does (that he didn't necessarily need to do), even if you didn't mean to be striving for perfection. For example take the things you did on Monday:
1) I entertained myself playing videogames
2) I improved my playing skills
3) I socialized
4) I learned about game making by playing this game
What determines someones "temperment" and therefore "meaning", is what one does most and what he means to get out of them.

 Mory said:

I'm not miserable, and that clashes with my sense of how I ought to fit into the world.

Socializing has nothing to do with ethics. Socializing doesn't fit in with your list. Also, playing videogames isn't in any way "perfection of the possession". That's just the act of buying games and adding them to your collection.

I think some people could be poor, only averagely healthy, not particularly good at anything, selfish and uneducated, have very few kids, and still find enough "meaning" (in the sense of personal happiness, not real meaning) in their jobs and social circles to last a lifetime. So I don't think your list is valid.

Blogger Betzalel said:

The first "meaning" on the list is to enjoy life as much as possible. This includes getting everything that can make you happy, and using them to do whatever makes you happiest.

You're right, socializing has nothing to do with ethics. I guess in that case, it fits in 1 too because you do it for the sake of enjoyment.

I should probably clarify that this does not need to be done for one to find meaning, he only needs to have intention to do so for a certain reason:
1) To enjoy life
2) To improve skills
3) To help others
4) To improve knowledge
The "perfections" in the first comment are only the ideals (that those people aspire after subconsciously).

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One can always find
a cause
a reason
and many excuses.


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Friday, May 04, 2007

On a Scale From

If you pet a dog, she'll be happy.

If you pet a cat, he'll decide whether you're doing a good job or not. If you're giving him a good petting, he'll purr. But if you're just stroking him absent-mindedly, he's likely to walk away. Why should he waste his time on a bad petting, when he could be dreaming of a good one? If you're not going to do a good job, you don't deserve to pet him.

I can see why cats are occasionally (half-jokingly) called evil, and why dogs are so often praised. But myself, I'm more of a cat-person. These days, I try not to get attached to too many cats because I worry it'll end badly, but I do like cats. I love my dear little Pussy Willow, who has become such a friendly cat. I like that cats don't put up with things they don't like. If there's food Willy doesn't like, he won't eat it. Compare that with Fudgie, who'd eat anything at all in the right circumstances.

Now, how can I trust that when Fudgie eats something, she's really enjoying it? After a while of not considering whether something is good or bad, don't "good" and "bad" lose their meaning? Doesn't food become just food? And if dogs don't differentiate between being petted while they have your undivided attention and being petted while you're barely noticing them, then how can you see value in petting them? And when a dog is loyal, what is that really worth? Dogs will look for any reason to love people. "Do you ever pet me? Do you ever feed me? Have you ever looked at me in passing? REALLY?? Then you're my new best friend!" So a dog is loyal- big deal. What's that worth, when they're practically wired that way?

With cats, it's different. Willy wasn't always friendly. When we first adopted him, he was scared of everyone. (He'd had a rough childhood.) So now, every time he enthusiastically jumps in my lap, it means something. Because I know it could have gone either way.

Some people think that dogs are much more intelligent than cats, and I can see why. You can tell dogs what to do. Dogs are more helpful, always aiming to please their masters. Cats, on the other hand, just sit around and sleep. But maybe they're sleeping because they've rejected whatever you want them to do. If a dog sees something, she'll chase it. If a cat sees something, he'll first determine whether it deserves attention. If not, he'll go to sleep- he can dream up a world more fit to live in.

"Ah, but dreams are merely escapism!", you challenge. And I need to accept that challenge for as long as the escape is not permanent. Eventually the cat will wake up, and the dog will be happier. Because an unappreciated happiness is better than an appreciated unhappiness.

Maybe I should elaborate.

You can't really appreciate good without also appreciating bad. If you'd seen lots of professional movies, but never any amateurish home-made ones, you'd take good film-making for granted. You'd think it natural that anyone to pick up any video camera could make a good-looking piece of film. On the other hand, if you've seen what an amateur can do, you can respect the professionals more. It's just a basic argument, but the same applies on any level. The more types of badness you understand, the more types of goodness you appreciate.

But here's the question I was getting at: Is this a good thing? Is it good to appreciate measures of quality? It's not so clear-cut. Is it worth recognizing the bad for the sake of the good?

And let's flip the question around a little. Let's say the world has more bad than good-------
90% of everything is crud.
- should you try to appreciate the good, knowing that it will also illuminate the bad? And here we get back to the cat's dreaming. If you indulge in dreams you see more good. But then the bad seems more pronounced. And if you completely disregard dreams
If you aren't where you like, you should like where you are!
, and deal only with what is right in front of your eyes (like a dog, or most adults), you might never notice that your life isn't worth much at all!

For my part, I tend to appreciate things. (Sure, there are important exceptions. But in general.) Everything's very colorful, very pronounced. This makes life in the Real World difficult. (Which isn't a fitting excuse for anything, since I could stop appreciating things so much.) I get a tremendous amount of pleasure out of very little things, yes. But I tend to get very depressed over little things as well! You can't get one without the other. Back in September, I came up with a musical theme I loved, and thought I'd forgotten it for good. I was thoroughly miserable for hours afterward, and would have kept being miserable if I hadn't managed to squeeze it out of my memory forcibly. When I did, I was in ecstasy. These extreme emotions can change as quickly as they start.

Malfunctioning electronics feels like the world is crumbling around me, while getting new electronics is like a new world open up. I delight in playing Ocarina of Time, but am troubled that my family won't. I'm overcome with loneliness, but only because I appreciate good socializing when I get it. I'm overjoyed by lasagna, but the chicken we eat on Shabbat is frustrating.

It would undoubtedly be easier to ignore all this, to just grow up and stop paying attention to the quality of life. Most adults seem to do it. My mother is like a textbook example of the condition. And she's survived. I say that's not enough. What do you think?

2 Comments:

Tamir said:

Well, since you asked -

My way of life is sort of a mixture of both. What I try to do is recognize the bad in order to appreciate the good, but at the same time keep my perspective so that the bad doesn't bother me so much.

You know, it occurs to me that (visual) contrast is a good metaphor for this. Most adults let it go down, let the world turn gray - not the funnest of ways to live life. Such people usually feel a loss at some point in their colorless lives and try to retrieve their childhood. They usually fail.

But if you turn it up, you get the intense dark along with the bright, which deters most of us. Those who do it anyway frequently lapse into depression. So my goal is to objectively recognize the good and the bad, and focus only on the good.

It doesn't sound very intelligent, I know, and it doesn't really work yet, but I have hope.

Anonymous said:

Malfunctioning electronics, huh?
I'll bet that applies now..

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Wednesday, April 11, 2007

An Evil Statement

The hagaddah we read for the Pessakh seder speaks of four sons. It teaches us a general rule about the different types of people.

The first guy up looks at the seder around him, and responds with a question. The question is, essentially: "PLEASE INPUT COMPLETE LIST OF INSTRUCTIONS." We call this the wise son. The proper response, the hagaddah informs us, is to feed him a new instruction. It is a very specific and completely trivial little instruction, but it is presumably something that was not in his programming yet.

The second guy also asks a question. He wants to understand the purpose of the gathering so that he can reject it well. This is the evil son. The proper response is to hit him on the teeth, and teach him a lesson. The lesson is: "You are evil." It is a good lesson.

The third person has a question to ask. The correct English translation of that question would be "Whuuuuuuuuuh?". This is the simple son. You respond in simple, accessible terms. You talk about force and gratitude. And then you stop talking, because he'll get bored.

The fourth person is an enigma, because he has no question. Not even a little one. We call him the son who does not know to ask. Who knows what's going through that head of his. So you're supposed to start a conversation for him, on your terms.


Then the hagaddah goes into a story: Once we were slaves in Egypt to a human Pharaoh who gave us meaningless work. Now we're free. Callooh.

See, to me this whole thing is ironic. Pessakh, more than any of the other miserable holidays, seems designed to remind us that we are enslaved to God. The most prominent mitzvah on Pessakh is that for seven days we should eat matzah. Matzah, it has been pointed out millions of times over the generations, is a form of cardboard. No one in his right mind would decide of his own accord to eat it. But the way I see it, that's exactly why we're eating it. God gave us a meaningless instruction, to show us that he is our master and can order us to do whatever he wants. And we are wise little slaves, so we follow those orders.

So it's not the festival of freedom, it's the festival of renewed slavery. Once we were slaves in Egypt to a human Pharaoh who gave us meaningless work. Now we're slaves in Israel to God who gives us meaningless laws.

Now don't get me wrong- to me this is an acceptable progression. He created this world, he sets the ground rules. He chose us for an unusual position in world history, and our job is to carry it out. I respect his authority, so I always will. And contrary to popular belief, happiness has nothing to do with it. A religious person is not going to be happier than a non-religious person, and a Jewish person is not going to be happier than a non-Jewish person. The only difference between a religious Jew and everyone else is that we are God's slaves to a larger degree than they are.

So every week, when the Day of Wrest comes around, I put aside my life and resign myself to 25 hours of pacing back and forth. God has decreed that there should be nothing but rest in that day, as recognition that he created the world. Not for our sake, but to reinforce his authority. (This is not to say that I think he like a human wants to be served- it is to say that I think our serving him will serve his purposes.) And I understand the terms of my slavery, so I go along with it. Even in these past two weeks, which thanks to Pessakh had four Days of Wrest, I never once asked myself whether to break the law. It is not an option.

When the family sits around and sings songs -written by rabbis- which praise Shabbat and claim that anyone who follows it will get eternal happiness, I can't relate. I'm not a part of the group that can believe that. Here's what I believe:


God created the universe because he is the original gamist.

The players here are not complex enough to ever surprise him, so he created the universe with such infinite complexity that its design took into account every player that would ever be born, and how they would affect every other player. In effect, human players are so predictable that they can be seen as just slightly more complex design elements in the game. From this perspective, there is no player but God, and there is no audience but God.

The game of life is built on an infinitely complex series of rules known as nature, the most important rule being causality. None of these rules have ever been broken in the history of the universe. Miracles are incredibly improbable occurrences, many of which we don't understand because our understanding of nature is pathetically incomplete. We are just humans, after all. Some parts of the Torah commonly taken literally are metaphorical, and the extra stories shoehorned in by rabbis which blatantly contradict nature are just works of fiction.

"Souls" were an early attempt to understand how we act with such complexity, but in truth all this complexity is just a byproduct of a ridiculously complex system of rules. We may understand these rules someday, or we may not. We are, after all, just humans. But the rules are there. Souls are not. When we die, that's it for us. We exist entirely within the physical universe. Maybe there are other types of "spirits" on the plane of existence God inhabits, or maybe not. Since we're stuck in here, there's no way to know. And I wouldn't believe any human -even a prophet!- who claimed to have knowledge of any supernatural beings but God. Even prophets are just humans.

Now, from our perspective we are the players. (I bet a fish would say that fish were the real players, if a fish could speak.) And so we're looking for meaning from a perspective mostly disconnected from God's. We can find some hint of God's perspective from the Torah, or from studying the world around us as a work of art, but otherwise we are so biased we can't see a thing. When we want meaning, we look for happiness. When we aren't happy, we think there's a lack of meaning in our lives.

We don't really get it.

Happiness serves an artistic purpose. It is the resolution of tension. If you look at happiness out of context, it's the lack of tension. And tension is much more beautiful (from a higher perspective, not ours) than the lack of tension. Tension causes progress. If the world were to one day become completely happy and show no signs of ever stopping, it would be at a dead end. That would be the appropriate time for God to destroy the world completely. There would be no point anymore.

So really, most of the things we look at as challenges to finding meaning in life are actually the real meaning in life. When evil people want to kill you because they're so different from you are, that's the appropriate time not to pray to God for help but to bless God for making such a beautiful world. The more diversity and tension there is, the more we see the brilliance of God's work. If there were no evil people in the world, there would be no point to the wise people's existence! With the evil people around, their lives have meaning. They go from people who sit around and be happy looking at their bright view of the world to people who get up outraged and yell "You're evil!" and aim for the teeth and try to stop the evil. That's movement. That's purpose.


There are four types of people in the world. There are people who follow well-trodden paths as far as they can go. There are people who are determined to find a path for themselves. There are people who follow the crowd on a path that doesn't go far. And there are people who don't know to walk. To each of these people, their paths (or lack thereof) are the most important thing in the world. They would like nothing more than to pursue their course for their entire lives. And they want to be free, which is to say that the other three types of people should get out of their way with their irritating distractions and stop trying to push them. But from a greater perspective, all four courses are pretty meaningless. And the point of it all, the reason those paths are there in the first place, is so that the four types of people can prevent each other from being free and happy. Because where there is little freedom or happiness, there is the meaning God intended.

4 Comments:

 Mory said:

If you've been following the blog, I hope it hasn't been so long that you've forgotten where the four colors come from. They fit remarkably well, which sort of validates them a little bit more. That's always cool.

It occurs to me that the four-sons division also works with most sorts of culture: High culture, counter-culture, popular culture and indifference. I bet it works with most things you'd want it to.

Tamir said:

Now, I get what you're saying, and I'm not planning on arguing with it. But I'd like to ask you, do you really find tension to be more beautiful than happiness? I find that strange...

By the way, I recognized the colors immediately. You're right, they indeed fit very well.

 Mory said:

I too would find it strange if any human were to pick tension over happiness. So no, I find happiness more beautiful. That is, whenever it's my happiness we're talking about. However, if I were, say, watching a movie about complete happiness, I wouldn't find it the slightest bit beautiful. I'd find it pointless and motionless. A movie which is filled with tension, and misery, and a desire for change? That's amazing. Now, the tension in the world hurts us, so we'll (and I include myself in that "we") say anything we can think of to discredit it (including calling it "meaningless" or "ugly"). But the tension and misery does not hurt God in any way. He's on the outside. He's the one playing the game, not the one stuck in it. So I'm sure that from his perspective, tension is more beautiful.

Tamir said:

I don't know about that. I think your analogy is flawed....my interest in movies is a fleshly thing, I wouldn't compare that to G-d's interest. I guess you would, though, what with the whole art thing.

It's rather hard to understand what G-d wants, or is interested in, because we have nothing to work with. Amusingly, we seem to be making Him similar to ourselves: You - the artist - would have him be interested in art. Me - the scientist (if I can call myself that) - would have him appreciate the beauty of harmony more than discord.

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Sunday, April 08, 2007

The Multiplayer Experience

Previously:
My family
The thing that bothers me most about my family is that there is not one person in it who can appreciate The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. When you play a game that good, you naturally want to share it with someone, but there is no one here who cares.
The Trip: Snapshots
It was late, and all four of us kids [Benjy, Dena, Miriam and I] were downstairs playing. ... We had a Ping Pong table out, so two of us were playing on that. And the other two were playing pool. And we went back and forth between the two games, and we'd watch each other's games. I'd never seen our family before as anything but an odd assortment of mismatched parts, but in this multiplayer environment it all just clicked. I wished we could stay in that room. I'd wanted to find an environment like that for so long. And just a few days later I'd buy the multiplayer game Pac-Man Vs. to try to recapture that, to some insignificant degree, at home. I didn't realize back in that basement that any such attempt would prove futile, that when this moment passed, it would pass for good.
When Nintendo first unveiled the cute little purple box that is Gamecube to the world, they proudly pointed out that their new Game Boy Advance handheld system could potentially connect to this console. And as the world blinked -wondering why they should care- Nintendo's high-ups explained that with just a cable (sold separately), the GBA could connect to the controller ports! The world blinked again. So, Nintendo concluded triumphantly, the Game Boy Advance could be used as a controller for Gamecube games!! And the world kept walking.

Well, not the whole world. Game publishers seemed to be pretty interested in this new Connectivity. They saw a tremendous amount of potential. If a Game Boy could be connected to a Gamecube, they reasoned, they could connect the portable version of a game with the console version of the same game! (Game developers love to make a hundred versions of a game, each for a different system.) So they could close off one of the levels of the game, or some sort of extra content the players would want, so that you could only get it if you bought both versions of the game, and connected them together! Double the profits! Yay! Gamers were not amused.

Nintendo themselves indulged in these cheap tactics quite a bit, to be sure. But this wasn't what they had gone to all that trouble to connect the two together for. It was all for the multiplayer experience. You see, Nintendo has long tried to bring people together with their games. Their Nintendo 64 console was the first ever to have four controller ports, so that four people could sit with each other and have a fun time together. Then they made games like Super Smash Bros., a multiplayer fighting game which is unsurpassed in accessibility, and the Mario Sports games which simplified the gameplay enough for anyone to pick them up and start playing half-decently. Then they started the Mario Party series, which to be even more accessible took the universally-understood form of a board game, with simple multiplayer mini-games sprinkled in. (It is a testament to how well Nintendo pulled it off that Dena -a non-gamer!- still plays Mario Party 6 with her friends to this day.

The point is, Nintendo takes multiplayer very seriously. Their old Game Boy Color system was kept afloat by Nintendo's own Pokémon series, which simplified the RPG system and coated it in the universally-appealing hobby of collecting in order to be as accessible as possible, then heavily pushed the multiplayer aspect (connecting with friends' Game Boys and playing battles against them) -so heavily, in fact, that you'd think it was what they made the game for in the first place. It probably was. Getting people together to play games is the most important goal for Nintendo- even if you're not actually playing with or against each other, they still want you to sit around and talk about the game with each other and help each other out.

That -moreso even than making money, I like to think- is their dream. Families being happy together, being brought together with games. When Shigeru Miyamoto -the gamist behind the original Super Mario, The Legend of Zelda, and Pikmin games- talks about what he worries about most in designing games, he talks about trying to get his wife interested. And when Eiji Aonuma -the current leader of the Zelda series, and the director of Zelda games The Wind Waker, Twilight Princess and Four Swords Adventures- recently talked about his proudest moment, he pointed to the time his wife -also a non-gamer- was sitting with his young son and the two of them were playing Twilight Princess together and enjoying each other's company.

So every time Nintendo invents new hardware, what they're thinking about is how they can use it to get people together more. How can they make this game appeal to the entire family, so that the whole family will sit around the TV and have fun with each other? How can they build friendships with their games? With their new motion-sensing Wii console, they've pretty much designed the system from the ground up for whole families to play together, going so far as to bundle what might be one of the most accessible videogames ever -the multiplayer Wii Sports- with the system itself, so that everyone with the system gets to have the whole social experience.

So when they came up with the idea of connectivity, it was the potential for multiplayer they had in mind. A big problem with multiplayer gaming on a TV is that everyone has to fit on one screen. Normally they get around that by splitting the screen into four parts, but split-screen has never been a very comfortable environment to play a game in. And in this past console generation, Microsoft's XBox was already setting up a comprehensive infrastructure for multiplayer gaming over the internet, but Nintendo didn't want to do that yet. They actually did experiments with online gaming going back all the way to the Super Nintendo in the early 90's, but they never came up with an approach they were satisfied with. If you think about it, it doesn't really serve Nintendo's vision of people playing together if they're not even in the same room.

Enter connectivity. Any player with a GBA has his own private little screen that only he can see. Obviously this allows for all sorts of fun concepts where each player knows something the others don't, but that's not really what Nintendo was thinking of. What Nintendo had in mind was first hinted at in Aonuma's The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. It's a single-player game through and through, but early on the option is introduced for a second player -playing on a GBA- to join in and help.

Imagine that a little kid is playing the game. He might pass right by important clues (to the puzzles) without noticing them, because he's inexperienced. He might find himself in more danger (in the battles) than he can handle. He might find it too difficult to get from place to place (in the exploring). Or he might just run out of items, and not understand how to get more. In short, he couldn't really play the game. But if we say that right next to him there's a parent on a Game Boy, all these potential problems just turn into opportunities for multiplayer interaction. See, the confusing interface on the Game Boy's little screen (which surely would turn off anyone who was not a patient and skilled gamer) allows this parent to ease the child through all these parts. The parent can point out important clues by controlling the game's camera for a few seconds via the Game Boy. (Otherwise, he'd have to take the Gamecube controller out of the kid's hands to show anything to him.) He can drop bombs on any enemies too hard. He can carry the younger player from above over pits. He can even buy more items without going to a store.

There might be one parent-child pair in the world who played the game this way. But probably not.

There are numerous reasons why this experiment didn't really work. But Nintendo was undeterred. At the E3 games expo not long after, as gamers excitedly waited for announcements of new Zelda or Super Mario games, Nintendo made the main attraction a little multiplayer experiment involving Gamecube-GBA connectivity. And gamers everywhere groaned. They wanted games they could play by themselves, challenging and complicated games which they could play for 50 hours straight and be amazed by. And they didn't want to hear about this "connectivity gimmick".

Nintendo pretended not to notice- they were too excited about this new idea. An idea which Shigeru Miyamoto himself had come up with. An idea that could and should appeal to anyone. The idea-- was Pac-Man. But a new version of Pac-Man, one that you'd need to buy a separate cable to play at all. Gamers everywhere groaned again

Here's the idea behind Pac-Man Vs., the idea that Miyamoto (and presumably his boss, Satoru Iwata) felt was important enough to be pushed front and center on the biggest game industry event of the year: One player is playing as Pac-Man, and three others are playing as the ghosts chasing him. The Pac-Man player is playing on the Game Boy Advance, and he's playing it in pretty much exactly the same way as if he were playing the original arcade game from the 80's. The three ghosts can't see where he is (which is why he needs his own screen)- each player sees only the small bit of the maze that's around him. So the three ghost players (on Gamecube controllers) need to help each other out to catch that gluttonous little yellow circle. They're looking on the TV, where their surroundings are rendered in simple 3D, both to make it a bit more interesting visually and so that it's harder to get a sense of how it all looks from the top down. The progression of the game is basically "tag": When one of the ghosts catches Pac-Man, that player switches controllers with the player he just caught, and he plays Pac-Man in the next round. The whole thing follows a point system, so that within five minutes or so the game can be over, with a clear winner. That way, you can start again, and all the players who didn't do well that time get another chance.


Whatever you think of that idea, I think we can all agree on this point: Nintendo is one weird company.


When Nintendo saw the negative reaction to Miyamoto's little game, they strengthened their resolve. They gave Eiji Aonuma the task of making a multiplayer Zelda game. They could have put a smaller director on the project; it didn't have to be the head of the Zelda series. But apparently they wanted this to be a real Zelda game as good as any other, so that no one could dismiss it as a "silly little minigame". So they gave Aonuma the task of making a four-player Zelda game, where each of the players played on their own GBAs. Sure, that meant that in order to play the four-player game you'd need:
  • A Gamecube
  • A copy of the game
  • A Game Boy Advance of your own
  • Three friends who just happened to have their own GBAs
  • Four connector cables
But it would all be worth it!


I'll get back to that in a minute and let you know how it all turned out, but for now let's jump over to what I've been doing for the past few months. For a while now I've been babysitting a young boy on the block named Eitan. I accepted the job, despite disliking the very idea of jobs, because it's not much of a job at all. I'd sit with him for a few hours while he played uninspired Playstation 2 games such as Ratchet & Clank. And I found it really funny, the first few weeks, how all of his little friends from the street -having nothing else to do, I guess- would come over, crowd into their little TV room, and just watch him play. They'd constantly yell advice over, and comment on what they were seeing, and sometimes they'd even ask to be given turns so that they could play. I was very amused by the sight, and the thought that a badly designed single-player game could -by a fluke!- make for a decent multiplayer experience in the proper setting.

I wasn't amused enough to sit and watch the silly game nonstop, though, so I started bringing my Game Boy with me and playing Super Mario Bros. in the living room while they crowded around. Very quickly, they noticed me playing there and asked if they could have "turns". I happily agreed. Any chance to spread the happiness, right? And then Eitan felt like he was missing out, so he joined in and took turns for himself. And so these little kids played this primitive little game from 1985 (designed to appeal to anyone, really), and enjoyed it at least as much as the flashy recent PS2 game.

As half the crowd were playing on the PS2, and half were playing on my Game Boy, I was left in the middle. So I got to talking with some of Eitan's friends, who I'd certainly seen before but never cared about. Specifically two boys named Michael and Mickey, because I could talk with them about games. Michael actually had a Gamecube (which was also from America- where else?) and we chatted about the games he'd played and the games he hadn't. And Mickey had a bunch of handheld systems. I probably never would have thought to ever talk with these kids if I hadn't been babysitting, because of the age gap. But why not? These guys had probably been playing good games for longer than I had! I enjoyed talking with them.

Anyway, the games Eitan played changed a tiny bit because I was there. First, I brought over my Gamecube with Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat and the drum controller. (I also tried bringing Pac-Man Vs., but the disc's a little scratched up and I couldn't get it to run.) And they really seemed to enjoy playing this platformer by hitting the drums. (It is an exceptional game.) Eventually I figured, why am I even bringing the Gamecube to Eitan's house if he can come over to my house? So he did, often along with Mickey, and I introduced them to all sorts of games. We played Mario Party 6, and Super Smash Bros. Melee. We even played a few short rounds of Pac-Man Vs., and though we had only three players rather than the ideal four, it was pretty fun!

And then I realized that they both had GBAs, and that's when we started playing The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords Adventures together.


Four Swords Adventures is - I guess you'd call it a party metalude. You can play it in single-player, in which event it is a lot like 1991's The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past but with control over four characters all the time. But it's not very good. You go through lots of tedious puzzles and simple battles, and that's pretty much all there is to it. But that's because you're missing the whole experience the game is specifically designed for.

When I first bought the game, I made sure I had three GBA cables so that I could play the game right. Sadly, I did not have two friends with GBAs. I made do with Eliav. (He does have a GBA.) It was pretty fun with two players (where each player controls two characters), but not ideal. It still felt like there was something missing. So even though I'd actually played through the entire game before, playing with Eitan and Mickey was something new.

Here's how it works. As you may have gathered, there are always four Links (Link is the hero of the Zelda series.) -in different colors to differentiate them- in play, no matter how many players there are. The game is split into 32 levels, each one taking around an hour to play. During those levels, there are many puzzles and battles that are meant to be passed with cooperative teamwork. But, everything you do in the game is rewarded with gems, and the players are competing to get more gems than the rest. At the end of a level, each of the players vote on who helped them and who bothered them, and that translates as points in the final rankings. Then each player loses points for every life he lost, but gains for beating more enemies than everyone else. The final -and most substantial- part of the points comes from gems. Thus, each player is trying to help his teammates as much as possible (in order to be voted on), while still racing everyone else to get to the monsters first, to get to the gems first, and (most importantly) get to the cool items first so he can get to play with those. It's pretty brilliant.

Now, you probably want to know why this requires each player to have their own Game Boys. Honestly, it couldn't have worked any other way. For a large portion of the game, all that you'll see on your GBA's screen is "LOOK AT THE TV SCREEN!". Because on the TV screen you'll see what's outside, or maybe a big room, or a hall, or wherever else your general surroundings are. And they'll be big, but not too big, because everyone needs to fit on there. You can only move on to the next area when all four Links move on together -That way no one player can control the progression of the game.

So whenever you're outside you play on the TV screen, and you see all the other players out there and you work together and race against each other. But, whenever you go into a smaller room, or a house or a cave or underground or into another dimension, you start playing on your own little GBA screen while everyone else is still on the TV.

So let's say everyone's outside having a hard time with a battle, and I go into a house to see if there are any items I can use to make it easier. Essentially, (to use terms from "Socializing in Solo") what you have here is two "environments" running simultaneously. One is a single-player environment, so it's on that player's GBA screen. One is a multiplayer environment, so it's on the TV screen. And doesn't it make sense that the number of screens being used should depend on how many environments the overall game at the moment is using? Afterwards, I might find an item that's useful, so I'll go back out to the TV screen and use it to help everyone else.

Say there's a big area on the screen with lots of caves and doors. Since you see the whole area on the TV screen, you know which door each player is going into. So generally each player will try to go a different way, so that very quickly the group has found everything. So there might be a whole maze of stairs and rooms and monsters on one guy's screen, while a second player is getting lots of gems on his screen, and a third player has just found a room they needed to find. Everyone knows -roughly- where everyone else is, because they saw where they went to from the TV screen. So when the third player calls out, "There are four switches here!", the other two players put down what they're doing and head over to where he is (going back through the TV screen to get there) to help out. (If there are four switches, all four Links are needed to activate them.) And if one player then has trouble finding the other two, they point him in the right direction or -in extreme cases- come back to get him.

There are all sorts of challenges that you need teamwork to solve. There might be four switches you stand on, or four switches that you need to hit with your swords (This needs to be coordinated, preferably with a "3, 2, 1" countdown, so that all players hit their switches at the same time.), or a pit which you need to throw another player over so he can hit a switch letting you through, or obstacles in the way too heavy for any one person to push away on his own. So you need to all work together- whenever someone else needs help, he asks for it. And whoever is nearby and willing gives it.

Let me describe a puzzle which I loved, which I think illustrates what the game is all about. On the TV is a big room with a pit in the middle and small rooms to the left and right of it. If you go on the right, you see some switches that you'd need to hit with a bow and arrow in order to activate a bridge over the pit. (They don't need to be hit all at once, they just need to all be hit.) Simple, right? The trouble is, there's a wall between you and the switches. So you can see them, but not hit them. If you go in the left room, you find absolutely nothing, but there's no wall on the right side. If you try shooting an arrow to the right from there, you see it whiz over the pit on the TV screen! So in theory you should be able to hit the switches on the right from the room on the left, but you can't see them from there! The solution demands two players working together. One goes on the left and shoots. The other goes on the right and sees where he's hitting. So the guy on the right instructs the guy on the left: "That's too high! Still too high. There, you got it. Try lower for the next one." And all the switches get hit, so the bridge appears.

Now, like all party games the game isn't fun if the players are annoying. Eitan was annoying. He's played lots of action games and tends to think in very violent ways. So when Mickey and I were trying to solve a puzzle, Eitan kept setting us on fire and throwing us off cliffs and hitting us with his sword and throwing bombs at us and generally getting us killed. We were stuck at that puzzle for around 25 minutes, because he wouldn't listen to us when we kept yelling at him to stop.

So I recently stopped playing with Eitan and started playing with Mickey and Michael. And man, is it fun. I wouldn't have known to spend time with these guys, because they are much younger than me in the Real World. But in the game, they might be just as old as I am. I mean, they're good players. Each of them has a Gamecube (When Mickey saw all the games I had for Gamecube, he bought one for himself.), and both of them have and have completed The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. These guys know what they're doing, and it's hard figuring out, at the end of each level, who I should vote for in the "bothered me" category. They don't bother me! They're as good as I am at all this! Well, almost. I do have seniority to some extent (due to being a little bit better and more experienced), so I always play with two Links while they each play with one. It works great this way, since it's more complicated to switch between two Links and put them in formations.

We could have another player if I bought another cable, but I don't really feel like we need it. Playing with these guys, I'm inclined to think that this is one of the best Zelda games ever.


There's ever so much potential here. I wish they'd keep making sequels regularly, so that every (say) two years I can get a new edition with new levels and new twists in the gameplay and new opportunities for interaction, so that I could keep the parties going. But Mickey, Michael and I are up to the last two levels of the game now. And there won't be any sequels, because so few people played this game. It takes a Gamecube, and three GBAs, and three cables, and three good players to get what we've got here, and most gamers aren't ever going to get all that. I'm very fortunate that I have. Because it's so worth it.

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Thursday, March 29, 2007

A Matter of Respect






































There was a letter for me from the Academy of Music. "For me? Really? What do you mean?" For me, from the Academy. I didn't want to open it. I'd put all those feelings behind me.

I'd stopped worrying about the fact that I'd never earned a Bagrut certificate, that I hadn't completed those studies, that I never fit in there. Why would I want to open that envelope again?

And anyway, it wasn't like before. When I was there, I didn't get involved in the school, didn't listen to anything the school told me, didn't want to be in the school in the first place, but I respected the school immensely. I could walk around the hallways and hear complex music being practiced and see beautiful dances being practiced, all by people (roughly my age) who I had a tremendous amount of respect for. Not people I wanted to be like, or to ever fit in with, but people I respected for their dedication and skill. But now, I couldn't respect the school anymore. I'd just met Eliezer, who mentioned the terrible politics there that I never really thought about back then. And only a few days later I met Chana -my former English teacher- who told me the school wasn't what it used to be, that even when I first came there it had degraded into a pale imitation of what it once was, and now it was even worse. She said a certain person in power has been ruining the school- in fact, the very same thing Eliezer had implied! She said she keeps telling herself she'll leave, but she never does. "Next year never becomes this year?", I suggested. But she said this next year she'd be leaving for real. Well, after hearing a perspective like that from a teacher I respect (though never listened to), why would I want to open the envelope again?

I opened the envelope. Yes, the letter was printed on the Academy stationary, with the Academy's logo on it. That logo gave me chills. I really didn't want to know what the letter said. I read the letter. It was some sort of ceremony. A "Certificate Ceremony" of some sort. Ha, I thought. No need to get scared- this is like when we had ceremonies, and kids who'd left the school already would come as a sign of respect or something. Phew. This isn't for me. Then I noticed a few more details, like the words "Machzor Mem-Dalet". Wait a minute. That was the number of my grade! Oh no. I reread the title. "Bagrut Certificate Ceremony", it said. No, what could this mean? It's been a year and a half! Things like this are supposed to go away if you ignore them for that long! I noticed another detail at the bottom of the page- the signature of my mekhanekh (my main teacher), who I'd always had a lot of respect for and now never wanted to see again. Most of all, I didn't want to see his name on that page, alongside the other mekhanekhet's name and the name of that aforementioned person in power. This letter was for me.

"I don't understand."

It said to contact one of two numbers to confirm that I was coming. It also said attendance was mandatory. "Mandatory?!", I said as I smiled, "It's not like they can tell me what to do anymore.". The smile was not easy to pull off at that moment, and it was not a particularly successful attempt. But they were never able to tell me what to do, anyway. All the respect in the world wouldn't change my nature as an outsider. I said I'd call later, when I felt like it. And I sat down to do something else, though I suddenly had no idea what that something else might be, because I was too preoccupied with the letter. All my classmates would be there. Hadn't I made a conscious decision to not try to be one of them? Some of those I wouldn't mind seeing again too much (with just a little embarrassment sprinkled in for having made much more of a fool of myself than I would now), but others I never had any connection with, and it bothered me then. Why should I open the old wound? Why should I call this person, who I'd never had a chance to prove myself to, who I never really knew in the first place and don't want to know? Maybe if I.. but I didn't! How I wished that letter hadn't come! But it had come, and I... ARGH.

Within thirty seconds of sitting down, I realized I couldn't put off making the call 'til later. I was so obsessively preoccupied with this letter that I couldn't stop thinking about it for an instant. I had to close the floodgates, and right now. I called the girl.

"Hello? This is Mordechai Buckman. Is this.." and I tried to add into my performance the impression of reading the name off a piece of paper (I actually was.), to suggest that I didn't know this name, didn't know that I had ever seen this person in my life. (I actually did remember the name, if you must know.) I think my delivery was pretty good, especially considering the pressure I was under. "I got something in the mail which I don't understand. It's for some sort of ceremony..?" She told me that there'd been some sort of problem with the grading of the English tests, and they only got done now -a year and a half after her grade was supposed to get these certificates! "In any case, it doesn't matter.", I said. "I'm not meant to get a certificate. I never finished History, or Writing." She said I ought to come nonetheless, and she was writing down who came because after the ceremony they'd all be going out to eat at some restaurant somewhere, with the mekhanekhs and all the kids. "So let me get this straight! A year and a half ago I was supposed to not get a Te'udat Bagrut, and you guys are requiring me to come not get a Te'udat Bagrut at some ceremony now?!" She didn't take the hint, and kept asking if I'd be coming, so they'd know whether to get a spot for me at the.. "No. No. No, I'm not coming."

I threw out the letter. I wouldn't know her number again now, if I changed my mind. It was on that piece of paper.

But I didn't want to deal with this.





"What's the deal with Lex Luthor?", Tamir asked me on Shabbat.


"Well, he's a genius, and he's always saying that if Superman weren't around to get in his way, he could turn the world into a utopia. But now there's that weekly comic I told you about before, 52, and it shows what Lex Luthor does with a whole year where Superman isn't there. And he seems to be working on something, giving people superpowers. But then it turns out to all be part of his evil plan, and his goal..."

It was at this point that I started cracking up, and explained that this was so ridiculously silly that I could barely say it.

"..the goal he has, the goal of this big evil plan... is to rename the Earth to 'Planet Lexor'. 'Lexor'! And this is what he does when Superman's gone. So after that, I don't have any respect for the character anymore. The deal with Lex Luthor is, he's really stupid."

Back in the eleventh grade, I came up with a creative idea. The solution I wanted to see, to the problems I didn't. I needed to create a game. That was something no one else there knew anything about, but many of them respected computer games. And even those who didn't- this idea, an idea which I'd pull off all on my own -an artistic masterpiece that would appeal even to the dancers -Through the Wind- this game they'd respect. And I could show even the tiniest bits of it, just enough to see the artistic intent -the rest I'd do the next year- those tiny bits would be enough to gain their respect. I'd be an outsider, but that's not really the same issue at all, is it?

Did I ever tell you the story of my career as a gamist? It ended with a program with a picture of a rotating elephant. That was the peak of my success. And then I stopped.

And I'm not even supposed to admit that I shouldn't have stopped, because then I'd be splitting my words from my actions and that can't be respected! But I stopped there! When I aimed my sights lower, I didn't even reach that! I wasn't able to achieve to my satisfaction even the lowest goal I set for myself! And Through the Wind? That was my project for tomorrow, and "tomorrow" kept seeming so much later than it did yesterday! And in the day, what had I accomplished? I'd done nothing worthy of respect! Sure, I'm an outsider! But I'm an outsider who can't be respected! I'm an outsider who doesn't exist for anyone who sees me! I never knew those kids, but me? There was nothing here to know! I never made my game, and every time I saw those faces I was reminded that tomorrow hadn't come!

But that was okay. It was school, getting in the way. I kept trying to find time to work, but the vacations were too short to do anything in. And on schooldays, I was so preoccupied with my misery that I needed to spend the rest of my time reading comics and entertaining myself. Don't you see?, it was school, holding me back. I would have gained their respect, if not for school.



Now it's a year and a half later. I've been free. For a year and a half. And what progress have I made?

If I saw those kids, -no, they're not kids anymore. If I saw those people, I'd see where they've gotten to. Some of them are in the army, I'm sure, or taking more education, or working hard at boring jobs for the money. -none of those options are for me, of course- I'm an outsider, I can't take their paths.


But each of those people.. When people ask them what they're doing with their lives... they've got an answer.

When they're asked where they're going - they have an answer!

When asked for plans- they have an answer!

And when they ask themselves- THEY HAVE AN ANSWER!!

And when they look at where they're standing, they're satisfied, because they've been told that there's value in that place! And they can tell themselves that there's value in that place, because they see how far they've come!


And they can respect themselves for it.




































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Tuesday, March 27, 2007

The Composer

"We start with chaos. Later on we'll work in structures -whatever the heart calls for- but we start with chaos. We don't plan anything- one starts, and the other listens to him and starts. We might be repeating each other. Or, we might be contradicting each other, fighting each other. But then in the end we hug each other."


The phone was for me. I recognized the voice as soon as I heard it, and waited silently for confirmation. Sure enough, it was Eliezer, who I'd not heard from since leaving the Academy. When I left, I asked a girl who improvised with us to please contact me if they started up the improv sessions the next year, so that I might stop by every now and then if I could. I was never contacted. He now asked me if I'd come with him to Tel Aviv to improvise with him. He explained some of the details, and I asked for confirmation that he was talking about going that same day. Yes, he was. I was excited, and I made sure he knew it. On one side of my mind, I knew that jumping on such an unexpected and wacky request was really childish. I ignored that side of my mind. I'd get to improvise a duet again. I'd been waiting almost two years for that. Of course I was excited.

After I reassured him that it wouldn't be a problem with my parents, he told me where I should get together with him and when. He suggested that I write it down, since he remembered my terrible memory. It was a good suggestion, and I followed it. I wasn't familiar with the place, but I could ask the driver to point it out. When I hung up the phone, I was hopping up and down even more than usual. I ran upstairs to explain to my mother. She offered that it sounded like he was looking for work. "I don't care what he's getting out of it.", I responded. I wanted to improvise.


"Once they see what it's like, they'll keep coming back. It's like a narcotic. Mordechai here is addicted to it; that's why he came. It's a drug."


I showed up at the place he'd told me a little before the time he'd told me. He lived near here, apparently. I waited. And waited some more. And waited some more, knowing that eventually he'd show up and somehow the waiting would be over. Eventually I saw a man walking toward me in black clothes and a black hat. I knew who it was, but I waited for him to get closer -for confirmation. (I've learned to err on the side of caution when I might make myself look like an idiot.) His behavior told me that it was him. I didn't actually recognize his face- I remembered the idea of him, not the little details. I followed him to his car.

He quickly looked for an opening to talk about how hard it was to find a place with two good grand pianos. Then he added (and he was particularly fond of this part) that in his school in Russia there were more good pianos than in this entire country. Well, maybe if you took out a few famous concert halls. Whatever- it was still a good line, and he used it again later.

He may have said the same thing later in Russian to that lady at the store, but I wouldn't know. She asked Eliezer (in Russian) if I understood Russian, and he responded that I didn't. She joked that she didn't understand how anyone could live in Israel and not know Russian. Eliezer answered that that was made up for in part by my native language being English. I apologized nonetheless- I should know Russian.


"Come, we'll try it.", Eliezer suggested to the shopkeeper. It was one thing to hear someone else improvise, and another to experience it for oneself. "You don't want to have to endure my playing;", he responded, "You're not a masochist!". Eliezer managed to appeal to his curiosity, though, and reassured him that it didn't take any special knowledge to start. The shopkeeper sat down and was too uncertain to really appreciate it.. yet. But he was enjoying himself, I could tell.


On the drive, Eliezer commented that composing-as-work was a form of hell, even though he enjoyed composing. He explained that it was a terrible burden to have to write out a symphonic piece and make sure the voices never overlapped with each other. He needed to say that it was terrible, and he framed it as a life lesson. "Every type of work is hard.", he explained. "If it's a hell for me to compose, just think..!" We talked during the whole ride, pretty much. He wanted to know what my plans were, what my goals were, what I was doing with my life, when I'd stop leeching off my parents. I answered most of his questions with "I don't know.". When I admitted what I'd like to do is design games, but that I've never designed a game, he criticized me for saying something and not acting on it.

He said that if I didn't have any work or plans, maybe I could be some sort of manager for him? Maybe run a website for him, make contacts for him. It was an odd request, to be sure. I figure he doesn't leave his house much, and doesn't know who to turn to for something like that. He ought to have known that I am not the right person for such a job. He must have really been out of his element when not dealing with music. I found a suitable excuse to get out of the choice- It was odd that he'd consider me a suitable organizer, when I wasn't organized myself! Nonetheless, he kept looking for ways I might help him. Maybe I knew of (and could point him to) any concert halls in Beit Shemesh which have two good grand pianos? Unfortunately, I don't.

I asked him why it was so hard to find two good grand pianos, anyway, and he responded with questions: "Why is anything in the world not the way it should be? Why was school depressing? Why can't people always do what they like to do? It's the same reason." "In other words,", I countered, "you're saying that you don't know." "It's an olam sheker-", he said, "a false world. The way it should be is that each person is required to do what he likes to do."

He told me that the same year I left the academy, he was finally forced out for good by internal politics- more specifically, certain people in power who didn't like him. And now? He wasn't making any money right now, but was always hard at work. He worked all day long, and yet was meeting little success. He had to ask his wife to work more, so that she could support them. His wife sounds very understanding.


"In Russia, there was a time when I started writing pop. There was a time when some of the most popular bands in Russia were playing my music. I was getting offers nonstop from big groups.

"But I found that it corrupted my style. When I tried to go back and write a classical piece, I could not do it. I could not write serious music anymore. So I turned the offers down, and went back to classical. It took a long while, but I recovered."


I asked him if any of his children were interested in music. He said none of them were. He said it very plainly. "That's a shame.", I said. What else could be said? This isn't the world we ought to be living in.

We were headed to a music store- "Olam Hap'santerim" ("Piano World"). The reason being that this was the only place he could find with more than one good grand piano. He was going to pitch his improvised-duets concept to the store's owner, and I was along to help him demonstrate. If this guy went for it, Eliezer could make this a regular thing again. As we were still in the car, Eliezer apologized preemptively to me, should the night not go the way I was expecting. I said that wouldn't bother me, so he would have nothing to apologize for. Over the course of the drive, he apologized many times for various things. He seemed to be afraid he was offending. Or maybe he's just learned that it's best to err on the side of caution when other people are involved.

As we entered Tel Aviv, we noticed how secular it all is. I said I didn't like the place. I don't like how hard it is to find a kosher place to eat in it. Eliezer said he liked Tel Aviv. Why?, I asked. "Because Tel Aviv likes me!", he smiled. A few years earlier, he was a big hit here.

Anyway, we stopped and started walking. There was a parking place closer nearby, but he didn't know exactly where that was. So we parked at the place he did know, and walked. He apologized for the walk. It was an odd walk. The way to the store was almost entirely a straight line, pointed out by two helpful security people who -as Eliezer had rightly guessed- spoke Russian. And yet, at any point there was even the slightest chance of going the wrong way, whenever there was another road which went to the right or left, he'd ask a nearby person for directions, acting like he had no idea where it was. Every time, they said we just needed to keep going straight forward until we got there. But he kept asking more people, up until we reached the store. Well, actually, he kept walking past the store, but I'd noticed the sign so I pointed it out for him.

It was a pretty nice place, with lots of fancy pianos split into two buildings across from each other. Eliezer looked around and quickly picked out the most rare and expensive piano in the place, and instantly decided that that was the one he wanted. It reminded me of myself with that High-Definition TV, only more so. He kept pointing out what a perfectly luxurious sound it made, how "balanced" it was (I have no idea what that means.), how this was what a piano should be like and how expensive it was. Playing that piano was a little piece of heaven for him.

And finally we played. We played a few times (before anyone was listening), just to see if we still got it. We got it. It was great. Then Eliezer said we should really stop, so as to not burn ourselves out. He also advised that I was demanding too much attention, that I wasn't giving enough room for him. I protested that I'd been listening to everything he was doing, and found ways to incorporate those bits into my side and even develop them further! But of course he was right. It was all about me, and improvised duets shouldn't be too fueled by ego. I was reminded of that time we'd actually performed duets, myself with that girl I mentioned earlier, and I completely blew it by calling too much attention to myself, taking advantage too much of the opportunity to make myself look good, to the point where I wasn't giving her any room. I only realized my mistake after that concert. So I accepted the criticism.

Then I waited around, improvising for myself on a slightly lesser piano, which to my ears was perfectly wonderful too. You can come up with a lot of things on good equipment that you'd never come up with on worse. A quality surface demands quality content. And I kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Finally, we improvised for the shopkeeper, who was appropriately impressed. And that got Eliezer and him to talking in a very long conversation. They got along very well. I waited for the two of them to finish up. And waited. And waited. (I would have played FFTA on my Game Boy, but the battery was dying.) I don't like the surface of the Real World very much. But I didn't blame Eliezer- indeed, I wished I could have such meaningful conversations more often. Anyway, the piano guy was thinking about how they could market such a thing, who they could get to come with so many other musical events regularly in Tel Aviv. He was taking it seriously, so Eliezer's attempt was a success.


We drove back, Eliezer apologizing repeatedly for making me wait, and he asked if I'd be willing to come again if he ever needed me. Sure. He gave me something to look forward to each week for two years; I'd be happy to help out whenever. In fact, I look forward to it.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

Though Eliezer is reasonably fluent in English, all the quotes here were spoken in Hebrew. When you combine that factor with the limitations of my memory, it's quite possible that I'm wildly misrepresenting what he said. Still, I have done my best to retain the gist of each line.

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If there are two sides, I should find a third.


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Friday, March 09, 2007

ונהפוך הוא

*(The title, a famous phrase from the megillah, is pronounced "V'nahafokh Hu", which roughly means "It was reversed.")



Friday

I knew I was ready to go. I'd been practicing very seriously (by my standards, anyway) for the better part of a week. I'd been working on the trup*-------
(the tune of each sentence based on its structure)
and the little musical gimmicks and the voices and there were little problems here and there (such as not knowing how to properly voice Mord'khai) but it would all work out. My work was almost finished, and already I was satisfied. (Maybe the Real World isn't so bad after all!)

But why did there need to be a Shabbat in between now and Purim? As I put it when talking to my mother, there's nothing like a Shabbat for magnifying problems. I was only minimally nervous right now, but if I had to go through a typical Shabbat that feeling could multiply a hundred times. I'd be reduced to a caricature of a nervous wreck.

Never mind that, she said- are you going to wear a costume? I wasn't planning on it, I said. My excuse went thusly: Everyone else would be wearing a costume to show it's "v'nahafokh hu" from the norm. So by not wearing a costume, I was doing the reverse of everyone else, or in other words the "v'nahafokh hu" of the "v'nahafokh hu"! All I wanted was a paper-thin excuse, so I didn't worry too much that the negative of a negative isn't really a negative.

I went back over the megillah, this time reading it from start to finish. There were a few little mistakes, but nothing anyone would ever notice. (Such as frequently mixing up the t'lishah g'dolahs and t'lishah k'tanahs, which was ironic since I'm the only person I know who actually differentiates between the two at all.) I saw it was good, and I was eager for the reading to come.

Then my father wanted to listen to my reading, to make sure there were no mistakes. Fine by me. I said I'd just do the trup, nothing fancy- no voices, none of my added tunes, none of the attention to dynamics and tempo. Just to see if there were mistakes. (The rest I wanted to keep as a surprise.)

And only a few p'sukim in, he was already pointing out a mistake. I was mispronouncing a word -mispronouncing a lot of words, as it would turn out- and I'd been practicing it that way for a week. The numerous mistakes my father pointed out, over the course of the megillah, were mostly mistakes that I never would have noticed on my own, because they didn't prevent me from continuing. Mistakes like mispronunciation, doing one kind of trup which seemed to make perfect sense when it was wrong nonetheless, switching to the alternate Eikhah trup at specific points where there was no reason to, and other things like that that I would never have known by myself.

And immediately all I could see was the obstacles in my way.

How could I unlearn what I'd practiced so much?
How could I pay attention during the reading to the potential mistakes coming up, while also paying attention to the appropriate dramatization?
How could I perfect it in only one day?
Why couldn't my father have told me all this a week earlier, when I had a chance to get it right?
I still wasn't satisfied with the Mord'khai voice, was I?
How could I perfect it all
How could I perfect it in only one day?
I still didn't have those t'lishas straight, did I?
What if I wasn't ready by the start of Purim?
What if I messed up?
What if I was corrected every few lines in shul, like my father was doing at home, and I got too frustrated to continue?
Then wouldn't I have even more mistakes?
And then I'd be so busy trying to deal with those mistakes that I wouldn't be able to think about reading it properly
And it would be a disaster, wouldn't it?


Peace of mind is a fragile thing.

It was for the best. I was taking the work for granted by that point; I'd come to believe that passing the trial was all but guaranteed. There are no guarantees, and a person who thinks there are is bound to fail in the end. So I took it more seriously. I sat down with the book and studied. And this wasn't the almost-fun studying of the past few days, when I knew I was on the right path and that if I just kept walking the way I was walking I'd pass cheerfully through the goal without breaking a sweat. No, this was the miserable kind of studying, where one side of my brain said that it was necessary and the other side said it wasn't a comfortable road to be walking on. The kind where I had to force myself to sit down and get it done. I'm not very familiar with that kind of challenge. It was for the best, I think.

By the end of the night, I was tired. But I read it for my father again, this time paying more attention to the myriad ways I could fail, and this time missing most of them. I wasn't ready. But then, who is? Only people who aren't trying. My feelings about the coming day now more grounded in Reality, I went to sleep.




Shabbat

The day began when I woke up from a dream. A nightmare, really. Usually my dreams are very straightforward, giving me exactly what I need to have- either positive or negative. For instance, a positive dream would almost always revolve around a videogame, while a negative one might (just as an example) revolve around losing something important, like (again, this is just a random example) one of my videogame systems. My dreams tend to be not much more abstract than this blog, and in exactly the same ways. (This is -in truth!- how I think normally.)

Following the style of straightforwardness, Shabbats usually start with nightmares of losing games, computers, music and other everyday activities. This Shabbat too, as I said, began with a nightmare, but this was right before Purim and the meaning was reversed.

I was back in the old elementary school/hell on earth named Orot. Not that I was back there for good- I was just visiting, reminding myself what my life was like once. The rooms were mostly empty, but there were bullies infesting the halls who were bored and would like nothing more than to beat up someone like me. I ran from them into a classroom with a piano in it, so I could remind myself of some more.

I took a piece of sheet music out, of a complete piece I'd written out back then. Before I could start playing, I noticed that there was someone else in the room, leaving from a class. It was a young girl- a bald girl.
"You must get picked on a lot.", I said. Here was someone going through what I did, once.
"Yes."
"I despise this place, and I always will.", we recited together. And she left the room.

So I got to my playing. It was a good piece, I reminded myself as I started. But the room was empty. This too was familiar.

I left the room, and wandered through the hallways -sneaking past some vicious little kids- lost in my own thoughts. Thoughts like, "This is so perfect for my blog- I just put a post on my blog called "Back in School" which was dealing with this metaphorically, and now I'm back in the school literally! What lovely duality!". I like duality.

And so caught up I was in the wording of the potential post, that I was caught off guard when an old teacher of mine (who was my mekhanekh in sixth grade, if I'm not mistaken) showed up and grabbed the notes. And certain that there was a mistake there, he took out a red pen and starting scribbling over what I'd written. He kept scribbling, writing in different notes in place of the originals, until the original tune couldn't be made out at all. And during the whole thing I tried desperately to protest, but I could not. I remembered that this particular teacher (as I put it back when I was stuck with him for a year) had a switch in his brain between "input" and "output". When he was talking or writing, he couldn't hear or see. When he was listening or looking, he couldn't talk or even think. So it was hopeless to try to reason with him. Instead, I tried to grab it back by force, but I couldn't reach it and he just kept scribbling and scribbling...


And then I woke up. For a few seconds, I was just puzzled that I'd think about such ancient history at all, when it had been out of my mind for years. And after a few details of Reality came back to me*-------
  • I never wrote down any music that far back, and the sheet music I'd been holding and trying to play was the famous Canon in D.
  • I'd never written any blog post at all similar to the one I was thinking of.
  • The girl was not based on anyone specific I'd ever met.
  • There were no pianos in the classrooms, and the layout of the building in the dream was entirely fictional.
, I woke up enough to understand what I was doing.

This dream was exactly what I needed. I'd been looking only at the immediate present. In the back of my mind, I was still framing the event as a question between being happy in the present, or being miserable in the present. I needed to see the long and twisty road that I've passed, to better understand what I was choosing to do: Though I once was a good kid living a miserable life, I could become a miserable adult living a good life. I needed to internalize that everything had been reversed. That the restrictions of the past no longer applied. That the future was wide open, depending only on how I chose to write the piece. It was exactly what I needed, as I chose to move forward, to take one final look back at where this whole portion of my journey began.

I sat in bed letting all this sink in, and wondered whether I should go back to sleep given how early it still was. But I was too excited to go back to sleep. So I got up. And as I washed my hands, I looked at my messy face in the mirror, and said to him with a grin: "This is going to be a good day."

It started (after the obligatory hopping around downstairs waiting) with shul- more specifically, waiting in shul for the Torah reading to come up, because everything before that would be (and was) boring. Waiting seems to be the Real World's most dominant design element, doesn't it? But I did my best to ignore it and keep up my enthusiasm.

Finally, the time came for me to read the Torah. And I did a mighty fine job of it, if I do say so myself. I didn't actually get to finish the job, since Roby wanted to do the last two aliyot and Zachor (the maftir). Such is life, and I wasn't going to complain considering I'd gotten to do the first five. In the end, I actually did get to do Zachor, after the davening for people who'd missed it the first time around. That was nice.

Then we went home, and the countdown began.

Over the course of the day, I went several times to the amphitheater/field so that I'd have a place to practice all the voices without any other people nearby who might hear. (By this point I knew more than enough of the megillah by heart to read lines in character without having a book in front of me.)

I especially focused on the character of Mord'khai, because I didn't have a clear idea in my head of who he was. The Persians around him surely saw him as an outsider, an odd old man who inexplicably sat around by the gates every day and didn't do what was socially expected of him. That he got up to the top by the end was a "v'nahafokh hu" of miraculous proportions, and the congregation/audience I'm reading to should surely get a sense of how much of an outsider he was to begin with for that to pay off properly in the end.

But then, he was a wise man who'd been a very important person back in Jerusalem. He was wise enough to know exactly what to do when the going got tough. And he only started coming to the gates (by a literal reading of the text) when his niece Ester was brought to the palace, showing what a strong loyalty he had to family- a quality anyone could admire. And he must have had complete self-confidence to go against the king's command in public. How could I fit these respectable qualities in with my artistic inclination to make him hard to like?

But then, in the entire megillah he only has a voice in three p'sukim- his introduction and two lines of dialogue. This is a character who is almost never heard. So would anyone even notice what he sounds like? But I couldn't think like that!- Mord'khai is the hero of the story, whether he's heard or not. He needs a suitable voice.

Those three p'sukim were the hardest three p'sukim to decide on. I completely changed the voice I was using no less than four times that day. By the end, I didn't know who Mord'khai was anymore, but I'd come to accept that. All that was really needed was for him to stand out from the other characters. If I got another comment this year, as in years past, that Mord'khai sounded too much like the evil Haman, then there was something seriously wrong with my performance. So I finally managed to produce a voice which sounded different enough from the other characters, though I had no guarantees that I could reproduce said voice, seeing as how it was not a memorable and/or particularly fitting one.


The day was not enjoyable, but it had a purpose- something which I could appreciate as well.


Shabbat ended, which for once didn't seem particularly strange. I quickly got ready to leave, though as my father pointed out: "You know,.. You know, we don't really need to rush to get there. It's not like they'll start without us!" Nonetheless, we left and got there as the people were just starting to show up. It was a lot of people, but I didn't want for it to seem like a lot of people, because certain people who I would have wanted to be there were missing while many others I didn't even recognize were there. (The situation seemed familiar somehow.. Ah yes, the empty room with the concert.)

This reading would be almost entirely within my comfort zone. Using not only voices for characters, but musical changes for different functions in the story; using a subtle reference no one would notice from one part of the story to another; subverting the standard tunes into something more complex they were not meant as;- What does this remind me of? Why, it's just a blog post, in megillah form! Mixed with constant progression, like a piano piece, though with a touch more improvisation than usual -which is fine since I'm comfortable with improvisation.

None of this was going through my head as I stood there. In fact, my thoughts were more along the lines of:

Oy!


Yeah, I know, not particularly deep. I let it out on ridiculously (and knowingly so) phony shivers as the crowd (I mean- small bunch of people!) continued to pour in. It wasn't the people that scared me, really- I've done concerts before. No, it was how much weight I myself had put onto this event. This wasn't just a megillah reading- it was the megillah reading!

I started with a very shaky voice, practically screaming the words out of fear. At least everyone heard me!

But then I got more comfortable with it, and calmed down. And I just read through it, and had fun with it. And it was fun.


And so it came to be that it was reversed; that I, Mordechai Ariel, with my messy hair and lack of socially ordained costume, stood in the middle of the congregation -in which I am an outsider- for this event. And from having little to no contact with other members of the congregation, I went to actively showing off in my own self-indulgent way and being not only tolerated, but respected for it.


Was it free of mistakes? No. There was one part where my father claimed I'd skipped a word-- after I'd already passed a few lines. So I needed to quickly redo that section, which was awkward. And I completely messed up the brakhah at the end, due to a series of circumstances which I'd also like to blame on my father, out of convenience, though it wasn't really in any way his fault. And then there were assorted mistakes in the trup throughout, which (sadly) I can't think of a way to blame on my father.

But overall, it was a success.

Oh, and Mord'khai? I wasn't really thinking about it too much. I just improvised Mord'khai, with a random assortment of voice ideas I'd tried (and failed) to use while practicing, and it worked. It wasn't exactly a masterpiece of voice acting, and I doubt it made much of an impression, but I got no complaints and/or comments that it sounded like the other voices, and that's worth something. After doing it, I couldn't remember what I'd done exactly, so next year (since I would like to make this an annual project from now on) I'll have to struggle with him again.

Different people said they especially liked different voices, which made me very proud. If everyone had leaned toward one voice, I might have thought the rest were failures, but when each person is most entertained by a different voice, then they must all be successes in their own rights. It made me very proud indeed.




Sunday

I'd just decided to be an adult of some sort, and already I had to make a compromise. Let it never be said that God lacks a sense of humor, twisted though it may be. It had been brought to my attention shortly after my reading that out of our entire congregation, increasing in size with each year, there were only two people who were willing and able to read the megillah. That was me and Jay. (I wonder what would have happened had this been an "off" year for me. But I suppose it all does fit together.) So either I reread the megillah in the morning, or I'd be forcing Jay to read it three times for the shul, one of them right after another. (We have two readings at night and two in the morning.) I wouldn't do that.

So I agreed to do it again on Sunday morning, provided I wasn't going to be doing voices again. I wasn't going to do the whole performance again that year. Once is light entertainment, twice is a chore to sit through. If someone missed it, they should have to wait 'til next year. Besides, wouldn't everyone prefer in the morning (considering they'd already heard the megillah once) for it to be as quick as possible so as to let them get on with their day? So I was willing to reread, but not happy, because if someone had missed that earlier reading they'd think this was all I was capable of. Anyway, this all meant I had to go to sleep early in order to be wide awake for it.

In the morning, I read through very straightforwardly and (this is crucial) quickly. There was no pressure, no effort, no reward. I got the brakhot right this time, so that's something. But I didn't play any of my little tricks, or voices, or even pay any attention to tempo farther than "Let's get through this as quickly as possible without making the words unclear.". It was barely harder than the Torah reading.

It disheartened me to see that some people who I would have wanted to hear the proper reading were present this morning but not in the night. I needed to explain to them (perhaps a bit strongly) that this was only the barest outline of what I'd done yesterday; that this was just a reading while yesterday was a performance. Hopefully they'll show up next year. The Real World has a lot of waiting.


I spent the next hours upstairs in our house, playing The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess while my parents' friends came to the door with mishlo'akh manot. Not because they had anything good to give, but just because it was part of the day's obligations to give them.

There was one point in the game where I was stuck, where I reached a maze of sorts and it wasn't clear to me where I should go next. But I kept going anyway, and found my way eventually. Because it's a well-designed game. I pressed forward all the way to the very satisfying conclusion of the entire game, and beat it. It was quite rewarding.

Meanwhile, back in the Real World, the reversal reversed and everything was back as it was before. And maybe that's not really a reversal. We went for the Purim meal to see old friends of my parents', where I sat with the adults because I'm technically "old enough to drink". So I sat there, as they traded gossip, and endless anecdotes from their jobs, and comments on politics, and all sorts of other adult topics which couldn't have interested me less. I left early and walked home.

It was later pointed out that I'd missed the lunar eclipse. I normally would have been awake to see it, since my regular day ends at 2:00 AM, but because I was thinking only about practical decisions and not such indulgences, I'd forgotten all about it. Even if I had remembered, I couldn't have had it both ways. It's so elegant how it all fits together, isn't it? It was all so clear in retrospect. There was a pretty picture, painted prominently on the sky itself! And because I chose to be an adult, who would not care about such things,.. Because I chose a life of misery over a life of happiness,.. I didn't get to appreciate it. I didn't even get to see it! I didn't even get to acknowledge the existence of a beautiful image, except in a sense of "Look what I lost."! I brought this upon myself. And maybe it's not just a sense of humor God has, so much as a lack of human restraint in giving us what we deserve.

Already by the end of the day, I was feeling the first traces of a profound and overly familiar sadness. Why did the satisfaction of a success fade so quickly? Was this all I'd ever get from the Real World? And should I see the trial as continuing, or did I misunderstand the trial in the first place?! Why is it that at every landmark I make for myself, I am rewarded with confusion?

Here's where I stand. In agreeing to become an adult, I proved myself a traitor to childkind- or maybe just a natural ex-member. On the other hand, it seems that a lack of direction and constant confusion are parts of the package deal that is adulthood. And I refuse to accept a life so poorly designed!

So I guess I'm just Mory, no particular age group, and I'll improvise the rest as I get to it.

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Monday, February 26, 2007

Deadline

Purim is less than a week away.


For my bar mitzvah, I not only read the parasha of the week (Tetzaveh), but Megillat Ester as well. Well, around a third of the Megillah, anyway. And I even threw in a few voices and some musical tricks (for dramatic effect) so that I could use the opportunity to show off. No one actually suggested any of this to me- I just surprised them all with the neat gimmicks I'd imagined. See, I wouldn't aim to do what anyone else could do- I needed to show that I had a unique contribution to offer.

Since it was so much work, I decided after that that I'd only read the Megillah every other year. Each time, I tried to top my previous ambitions, apparently because I hadn't aimed high enough the last time. Each time I added in more voices, improved on the old ones, learned a larger portion of the Megillah, and came up with a few new musical gimmicks. The last time, I intended to finish it off, but ended up handing off the ending to the Rabbi because he asked if he could do it. (I was blessed that he should ask- I wasn't good at the ending at all.) Each time, I took it a little bit more seriously, because the longer you stick with something the more attached you get to it. But I always did the reading in the morning, when there were fewer people listening, as opposed to the big reading in the night.

This is the "other" year. This is the seventh year since starting with this whole project, and so it is the fourth time I am reading, and this will be the first time that I finish the job. I will read all ten chapters, including all the voices called for, and every little gimmick I can think of. And this year I'm doing it at night- this will be the megillah reading for our community.


So here's where I stand.
This is a trial, to see whether I can meet my own improbable goals of offering something to society.

If I succeed, I will have proven to myself that I can accomplish any goal I set for myself, no matter how outrageous. The glory of the success will encourage me to pursue my other goals, setting me on a hard path into a glorious life of hardships.

If I fail, I will have demonstrated to myself that I'm not good enough in the Real World to achieve the silly dreams in my head. That will start a very gradual process of increasing dissatisfaction with the disconnection between the Real World and the one in my head, which will eventually lead me right back to depression. The failure would weigh on my mind, holding me in place right here.


At least, that's how I imagine the situation.


Here's where I stand in Reality.
I thought I had two weeks to go until Purim. So practicing seriously was something that I'd do "some day soon". But then, on Shabbat, my father mentioned that both my parasha and Purim were coming up this week. The parasha is no problem at all- I've done it every year for seven years, so I could read it in my sleep, without any practice. But I thought the Megillah was a week later. And that... I'm not ready for it, not really. There are mistakes all over the place. There are large sections I've forgotten, or that I never knew well to begin with.

Here's where I stand. I've got this one week to get it right. I also happen to be in the middle of the mother of all distractions: a great new The Legend of Zelda experience. (This situation seems familiar somehow.)


Here's how I imagine the situation:

I can be a child and live for the present.

Or

I can be an adult and live for the future.



One birthday, I went to Norman's with Benjy. And I told him there that if I could wish for anything, it'd be that I'd never stop changing from one year to the next. I guess I really have changed. Maybe it's time to wake up and acknowledge that there's a hard road ahead, but a road that -God willing- can be passed.


Purim is less than a week away. And I'm going to be ready.

8 Comments:

Tamir said:

Wow. Congratulations, and good luck.

 Mory said:

By the way, normally I wouldn't consider reading in the night because it's right after the fast and there is no way I'd be willing to do this whole thing without having had enough food or drink. But this year, Purim's on a Sunday, which means the fast is pushed back to Thursday so it shouldn't fall on a Shabbat. It's so lovely how everything ties together.

Tamir said:

I think you did a great job, personally. I disliked your choice of tunes for the blessings, but other than that, it was a lot of fun.
Although you didn't seem particularly happy when I went to shake your hand....

A non-kehila member was present at your reading, and commented to me afterwards, "Wow, that reading was really different. I didn't know your rabbi was so cool!"
I know I'd be complimented by that, but take it as you will. ^_^

 Mory said:

Although you didn't seem particularly happy when I went to shake your hand....

I wasn't particularly happy, because I'd just completely messed up the tune for the ending brakha I'd composed. I was still sort of dwelling on that. Did you not like my starting brakhas either? (They were loosely based on the standard tune.)

But wow- someone thought I was the rabbi? That's weird. But I do take it as a compliment that someone would be struck by how "different" my reading was. That makes me all cold and fuzzy inside.

Tamir said:

I should have been more specific, perhaps - the person who commented was a girl, and therefore never saw your face. But yes, she thought you were the rabbi.

No, I didn't like the starting brachot either. Dunno why, they just didn't fit right with me. *shrug*

 Mory said:

Okay, that's fine. But I happen to like them, so I'll keep doing them. You can pretend I'm doing the normal, boring ones. :)

 Mory said:

Oh, and how could I forget to ask: Who was the girl who thought I was "so cool"? :D

Tamir said:

Sorry, I would have told you in the first place, but it's one of my silly principles. See, people frequently don't like you repeating things they said, so I try not to unless I have permission. And since she doesn't live here, I can't ask for permission. u_u Doesn't really matter, anyway.

...you can pretend you know who it is. =P

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Thursday, February 22, 2007

Tapestry Thread: light birthday edition

Today was my 19th birthday, twice over. Today was 21 February, which is my birthday. (My day always ends at 2 AM.) And today was also 3 Adar, which is my birthday by the Hebrew calendar. It's not common for the two dates to coincide.


Last night, my parents and I went to the Norman's steak house in Jerusalem. I wanted to go there because I love their Sirloin steaks. As it happened, they didn't have any Sirloin at the moment, so I settled for a Fillet Mignon. And my parents talked among themselves a lot, during the drive there and there and on the way back. It was a good meal.


The reason it was yesterday, rather than today, is that they were both going to be busy today. I was a little annoyed initially, because what's the sense of celebrating my birthday when it's not my birthday? I might as well go today to Norman's on my own- I wouldn't have had any problem with that.

But then the idea of being alone in the house on my birthday gave me an idea. See, I'd wanted to go to the Israel Museum ever since I heard about the latest (temporary) exhibits in the newspaper. I figured I'd go there on my own some day soon to check it out (I'd never gone there on my own before), but weeks passed and it never occurred to me to change "soon" to "now".

That was the idea which instantly popped into my head- why not go on my birthday? I didn't have any other plans. So I suggested it to my mother yesterday, and she said that sounded great and she'd give me money for it.


I woke up this morning earlier than usual (around 8:30), mildly excited thinking of the day ahead. I figured I'd go to my computer first and check out if the friendly folk at Adventure Gamers had wished me happy birthday. So I went to the computer room, passing by a few of the "Happy Birthday" signs my mother had put up along the way.

The first thing I noticed was that one of her signs was taped to my screen, completely covering it. She does like for those signs to be noticed. The second thing I noticed was the Gamecube-game-box-shaped gift wrapped up and sitting on my keyboard. Could it really be-? Wowsers. (I actually did tell my parents what I'd like, but considering what a hassle it is to get games to here it would still be pretty exciting if it were that game...) And I unwrapped it slowly, being careful not to rip the paper so I shouldn't see a little bit of it before I get the whole thing out. And I looked away as I took it out so that I could be able to see the whole thing at once. And it fell into my hands, and I looked, and I found...

A chocolate bar.

No, I'm just kidding. It was The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess! And could there be a cooler present than a Zelda game? (It's a rhetorical question. Yes, I know a time machine would be cooler. Now stop interrupting my reverie.) It was an exciting moment. And I wanted to play it right away, but there wasn't enough time if I wanted to get to the Israel Museum.

So I just put it aside and checked the forums. Sure enough, they were wishing me a happy birthday, and some of them in rather clever ways! It's good to have friends, is it not? And then I headed to the bus.

It'd been a while since I'd walked that way, watch ticking, black coat on, sun boiling (I was only wearing the coat for old time's sake), Game Boy in pocket. I can't say it was an entirely enjoyable bit of nostalgia, but I was glad to be going.

On the bus, I was quickly reminded of that irritant I'd forgotten: the tremendous sense of isolation. I remembered how there was a kid I'd see on the bus once every few years, who I could talk with (because he was hyperactive). (There were one or two times on Shabbats when I'd wondered who he was and how I could find him, since people I can talk to are so hard to come by.) His name was Moshe, I think. Or something else with M. Avraham? No, that doesn't sound right. Eah, who cares. And I left it at that.


A few minutes later, someone came on the bus who looked awfully familiar. I couldn't be sure that it was him, but then he did look.. um, familiar. I said that already, didn't I. He was hanging around with a whole crowd toward the front of the bus, and I was strapped into my chair toward the back. (It's good to insure you're not thrown around a lot when things get rough, kids.) I wondered when he'd be getting off.

As it happened, he was getting off at the Central Bus Station, same as me. And he got off before me, but happened to stop to tie his shoe. And I asked him if I knew him and he reintroduced himself as Moshe. And we got to talking, which is a big thing with me. I said I'd stop over some Shabbat- which will be much easier now that I actually know his name.



Then I headed over to the museum. I took the first bus that came that would drop me nearby, which meant I had some walking to do. Walking through a faintly familiar area? No problem by me. (The Israel Museum is next to where I went to school.) I asked for directions, just to be safe, because I hadn't wandered far from the school and didn't know for certain where it was. I was pointed in the direction I was going already, which was nice. I took a little detour through a tiny forest, and then I was there.


The exhibits were wonderful. First I went to (actually, more like "stumbled into", though by a coincidence it's what I'd read about in the newspaper and came to see) an exhibit of physical 3D models which were printed out of a computer, which I found incredible. Here they were taking digital files, virtual spaces, and turning them into physical objects in the Real World! Wowsers. That really sent me for a loop- I mean, here I'm putting up this wall between the two worlds, and then a magic printer is made (and it did seem more like magic then technology to me) which can cross it over! Wowsers. Some of the works were pretty, some were hilarious, some were inspiring, but most were really really cool.

The second exhibit I walked into was on how children have been dealt with in European art over the ages. Contrasting the portrayal of innocence in the 19th century with the more cynical perspective of the 20th century, comparing the near-complete disregard in the 17th century to dealing head-on with such issues in recent works. It was very nice too.

Then I went to an exhibit on Re'uven Rubin's early years, an exhibit on current Israeli photographic art dealing with political/social issues (which I couldn't make heads or tails of), a rather bland exhibit on surrealistic artists (not the art so much as the artists themselves) and capped it off with a look at the works of a very ambitious modern Israeli artist who isn't very good.

I spent three hours altogether in the museum, and I saw everything I wanted to see. All in all, a good time.


At home (which I reached only after much playing of Final Fantasy Tactics Advance on the bus), Zelda was waiting. I disconnected the speakers from my computer and plugged them into the Gamecube, so that I'd get good audio. And then I started to play (with Eitan watching since, as for the past few months, I was asked to babysit him. He seemed to enjoy watching, actually.). It started out really slow-paced, puzzlingly so. (This is not a game for people who haven't played Zelda before.) It forced you through so many little insignificant tangents, you couldn't get anywhere.

Then the whole game flipped (before even the first dungeon!) and it turned out that this game was nothing like I thought it would be. It turned out, the whole opening section was sort of a fake-out. It turned out, it was really a ridiculously fast-paced game, and that whole earlier section was subtly designed to set up a dozen story elements as quickly as possible, yet effectively. Now that's the brilliant Zelda development team I know!


The game was interrupted (three hours in) by a phone call from my grandmother, wishing me a happy birthday. And it was only then that I realized that my stomach was rumbling because it was already 8:30 and I hadn't had supper yet. Yep, it's a good game.

After supper, I checked out how the Civil War comic book, which I've been following, ended. See, Marvel Comics was kind enough to release the last issue right on my birthday!- so that information was available at long last. And the question of who wins could not possibly have been answered better. It's the sort of ending that takes you by surprise, but it's the good kind of surprise, which makes sense with everything that's been written before.


And then (after a little more browsing) I wrote up this post here, because I couldn't have respected myself if on my 19th birthday I once again went for immediate gratification instead of doing what needed to be done.


When I woke up, I expected the day to be pretty good, but just how good has taken me by surprise. This is the best birthday ever.


Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be getting back to Zelda.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I've spent more time with Moshe since then (Always a good idea!), and I don't think "hyperactive" is the right word, even though I remembered him being hyperactive when we were in school together. (That might just be my faulty memory, of course.) Now I think he's more like me.

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The longer you wait,
The less meaning the passage of time seems to have.


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Monday, February 19, 2007

The Trip

Note: The story of the Trip is written in twelve parts, which are meant to be read in order. Though each post could stand on its own, they should be seen as individual movements in a much larger piece. The conventional format of a blog (newest posts on top) does not lend itself well to this type of work, and so they are being presented as "sub-Posts" of this one post. To read one of the parts, click on its title. (You may collapse the post later by clicking the title again.) At the end of each sub-post is a link to its own post page, which includes any comments which are addressed to that specific post. If you have any other questions, please ask them in the feedback page, and they will be answered.

And without further ado: The Trip.

Introduction

Introduction

On our family's trip to America, I didn't miss home one bit. I didn't miss Willy and Fudgie too much, though I worried about them, and the same goes for the Gamecube. I didn't even miss my computer, actually. The one thing I missed was my screensaver.

Normally I wouldn't have a screensaver. It's not like I need one, especially since I turn my monitor off every time I walk away from it. But practicality has nothing to do with this. Only a little bit before we left, I got a screensaver called Electric Sheep. It's sort of an ever-changing medley of abstract animations, only prettier than that sounds. Most people see something pretty, they say "That's nice." and move on. But I can sit and watch Electric Sheep for hours. I don't know why- I just like looking at pretty things. The little artistic moments are what I live for.

The last time I'd seen Electric Sheep was the day before we left Israel. I was sitting and staring at my screen, and the rest of the family was running around frantically preparing. "What's to prepare?", I said. "Clothes!", my parents yelled at me. I packed clothes, a bunch of Game Boy games -------
Super Mario Bros., Metroid: Zero Mission, Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga
(with Final Fantasy Tactics Advance still in my Game Boy), and what little American money I had. Then I took a large portion of our DVD collection to watch in the car. And I had all I needed.

After saying goodbye to my friends on the Adventure Gamers forum and locking my computer, all I had left to do was set up the Gamecube for the neighbors. I was hoping (in vain, as it would turn out) that it would be used for more than Mario Party, and I figured whoever wanted to play Beyond Good & Evil or Pikmin should at least have good-quality stereo sound (which our TV, with its poor-quality mono speaker, couldn't provide). So I set up the speakers from my computer by the TV. Now, I didn't want anyone to adjust the volume on the speakers because the left speaker has a tendency to stop working when you do. So I had to make sure it was on just the right level, in the interest of being a good host. And that was all the excuse I needed to once again wander around in Metroid Prime for a few hours. (I was ready for the trip already.) It was good to be back in Tallon IV.

Though I went to bed early, the rest of my family was still running around and yelling outside my door. I fell asleep as soon as they all shut up. I woke up again at around one or so, too nervous to get back to sleep. So I went downstairs and paced around, thinking about the trip. I wasn't too eager to see my extended family at the bar mitzvah- people I hadn't seen in around ten years and probably wouldn't see again in just about as long. My cousins themselves? It's not like we ever had anything to talk about. Come to think of it, I wasn't even anxious to see my siblings: Miriam had started the trip two weeks early by flying to Florida, and the house had been more peaceful without her. And Benjy had lived in Boston for so long it was hard to believe we'd ever been related.

But I was excited to be seeing my grandparents' house again. I really missed that house.

And then I just paced around some more, imagining a trip taken with some sort of strange computer worn on the head. (By this point I really should have been back in bed.) And I composed myself a little folk song to go with that concept. (It sounded like this.)
Moving forward on a random route, I'm thinkin',
This is what life's all about-
Just one man in the wild, on his own.
Moving onwards in any direction,
With a wireless internet connection--
A little man and his home.
I didn't like it even as I made it up, but it had a catchy tune which I couldn't get out of my head. Finally I went back to sleep.

My alarm woke me up early that morning. I turned it off, put on some clothes, and sat on the floor waiting for my brain to boot up. Then I sat downstairs 'til it was okay to play piano. Well, I had to wait a little longer actually. See, my mother was davening, and she said it was okay with her if I played. So I did. But then my father walked in, and got furious at my inconsideration. It was such a ridiculous argument, but that's what my father does under pressure- he demonstrates that he is in control of the situation. For instance, once my mother finished she asked how they'd follow the news from Israel while we were away. He said: "We won't turn on the radio or talk politics- we're going on vacation! We're going to have fun! Even you!"

I figured by that point it would be okay to play piano. I had just come up with a new musical theme (nothing special, but sort of pretty) in the time it took him to walk Fudgie, and I wanted to develop it a little. But my father still wouldn't let me play, even though I was literally ready to walk out the door. "We're taking suitcases now. Help take the suitcases." I took a suitcase, and he still wouldn't let me play. I guess he wanted to control for himself the pace we took in leaving, and my leisurely attitude didn't fit with that. Or maybe it was just the volume (above pianissimo) he objected to. I waited for the taxi.

The cab driver talked a lot as we drove, which was interesting to me. It must be a boring job to drive from place to place, I thought. People only see you as "the cab driver". But inside the car, he's no less a person than his passengers. No, it's not a particularly profound thought, but you take what you can get when you're nervous and tired! So he talked about politics, and of course my parents talked about politics. When we got to the airport, the lady doing security ("Has anyone given you anything since you packed your bags?) was similarly outgoing, making lots of smalltalk with my parents as she checked our passports.

I hadn't been in Ben-Gurion airport since it was redesigned- and I was blown away! The ceiling in the hall you enter from is fairly transparent, so that the room seems twice as big as it really is. So I remembered that the last time I was there, it had seemed much smaller. Then there's this gorgeous waiting area, with a waterfall in the center of the room and stores circling around it. What amazing architecture!

The flight was not bad, or at least as close to "not bad" as a flight of that length can be. My father had bought me a new Mad magazine when we were in the airport (just to be nice), apparently not realizing how far the quality had fallen since the good ol' days when he was subscribed. It was trash from cover to cover- phony humor calculated by marketers to as large a target audience as possible. Oh well. I watched a movie, and played for hours in Final Fantasy Tactics Advance. And that still left lots of hours of waiting.

The longer you wait, the less meaning the passage of time seems to have. After a while, sitting in that plane in that cramped seat seemed like my whole existence. It was a long flight. Someday, I reminded myself roughly twenty times in all, there would be nearly instantaneous transportation, and we could make trips like this all the time! And then I'd look at the walls of the plane sadly. And wait.

Somehow, I reached the end of the flight (Strange.), and we walked into JFK airport. And the whole building was gray in 90-degree angles! "What terrible architecture!", I said. So my mother responded that it just looked like a bureaucracy. And so it did. I would have payed more notice to the strange (to me, at least) accents people were using if they were using them for anything other than rehearsed business talk. And I would have noticed how they looked, if they weren't standing quite so straight in their places as if they were pillars the building was standing on.

Oy vey!, I thought. I've entered the accursed land of practicality!

Greed and Galuttony*

Greed and Galuttony*

*pronounced "gah-LOOT-uh-nee"


In the airport, a simple cart to carry our luggage with cost us three dollars. My mother said, "I guess some people would say that's an example of capitalism at its finest." "Of course.", I added, "Capitalism is all about ripping off people for as much money as possible." For the next hour, as we waited for (just like last time I'd been to JFK) the broken luggage conveyor belt to start working and give us our luggage (because who'd pay to fix it?), I pondered that maybe Americans did go quite a bit past practicality. I mean, this cart (which happened to be falling apart) wasn't an ordinary cart. No, this one had a brake system! And for what practical purpose does a $3.00 function like that need to be in a luggage cart? It's not about practicality- it's about grubbing money.

The one kosher restaurant in the center of Washington D.C. cost a sizeable fortune for each meal. Why, when they could charge a reasonable amount? Because they could get that money, being the only kosher restaurant nearby. (It looked like a terrible restaurant, too!) So we had to walk for more than an hour in the scorching heat to find a dinky little museum cafeteria reported to be kosher. Actually, they had only three things on the menu with rabbinic supervision, which were roughly edible. Though it might not have been obscenely expensive, I as a person who had to actually taste this food can say that it was severely overpriced- they should have been paying us. And then they sold me a Good Humor bar which seemed to have been melted and refrozen. Why would they sell trash like that? Why, because they could get our money, of course.

The other side of this greed, naturally, is the reward paid in excess. All the houses we saw were enormous by Israeli standards. The families we stayed by always had several cars, as if one wasn't enough to get you from point A to point B. The digital cable has hundreds of channels, even though there's never anything on any of them. Excess is a way of life there. And I guess that as long as its pursuit for its own sake doesn't become the driving force in life, that's not bad. I don't know if it actually is a driving force- we weren't there that long.

What was a little bit troubling for me is that no one seemed to appreciate any of this. This wasn't amazing architecture, such that the space was needed to make the house feel just right. And it wasn't actually being used. It didn't look lived in, it didn't look wanted, it just looked empty. Like a person would be ashamed to have a house without all that excess space he'd never use in it. It seemed like every house had a piano in it, even though most of these families never played on it. So these musical instruments just sat, often out of tune and sometimes completely broken, just sat and took up space where it would catch people's eyes.

And then... what? Would these people just sit themselves down and start playing, finally serving the purpose the piano was created for? Or would their esteem of the piano's owner increase? Or maybe their eyes would just pass over it without recognition, no matter how well placed it was, because they've seen it so many times before.

I'm not sure whether any of this is good or bad, or even if a value judgement should be made here. But it certainly gave me food for thought.

Now, excess with appreciation- that's something else entirely. All art is excess- it serves no practical purpose. If we lived our lives obsessed with practicality we'd live in huts and eat vegetables all our lives. Bl'bah! And though I didn't notice it at all, my family mentioned that there was a lot of obesity around. So I suppose my association of America as a whole with practicality was way off. Maybe they limit practicality to work. Hm. I guess what I'm saying is I was overwhelmed by all this, and still don't exactly know what to think of it.

There's a lot to like in a money-driven culture, certainly. One of my favorite days of the trip was the very last one, in which we just stopped at a mall and shopped. I never like doing that here, because there's nothing to shop for. But though America doesn't make many good games, they sure sell 'em! On the one hand, there were three game stores in this mall in close proximity to each other, all members of one single game store chain, so two points for excess. But on the other hand, I could actually walk into a store, hand them physical money, and walk out five minutes later with games! I can't tell you how refreshing that was, and I only wish I could have that sort of set-up integrated into my life instead of visiting it once.

Maybe that's really all there is to it- envy. I knew we couldn't really afford this trip- we were outsiders to this whole consumerist lifestyle. And I got to be treated like a king regardless. We stayed at a Hampton Inn, with comfortable beds and free little bottles of shampoo and pretty good TVs, and just a few minutes after Benjy and I came into our room the phone rang. I answered, and it was someone from the hotel staff. He had called just to ask if there was anything we needed. It's such a little thing, but it was so perfect. "No, everything's great!", I answered. "Enjoy your stay in Hampton Inn.", he said. And with a huge grin on my face I joyfully concluded, "Thank you sir!" Okay, so people don't actually live like that and it is meant to be a one-time visit. But do you think inns are like that here?

I was jealous when I practically saw a Dunkin' Donuts on every street. And every time we passed one in the car, I pointed and yelled out excitedly to my family, "Dunkin' Donuts!". I have very fond memories of Dunkin' Donuts from Israel. I used to savor the taste of a Caramel Boston Creme on the very rare occasion I got one. And I imagine the rarity is not a factor which should be overlooked. Anyway, I've got a lot of nostalgia for that doughnut chain, which closed in Israel because no one could afford them on a regular basis. We didn't actually go into one on this trip, though, because my parents said they were rarely kosher. Yep, envy.

The first place we went from JFK airport was my Aunt Shari's house. Her house was not as big as some others, but Oh My! was it luxurious. The key word here was comfort. Rain outside, comfortable furniture, welcoming color schemes in each room. And then there was the basement, where I slept. Wowsers. She has one of those giant high-definition TVs, and let me tell you, it does make a difference. And she has a first-rate 7.1-speaker surround sound system hooked into it, and in the center of this reasonably-sized and cozy room was the most comfortable couch. And I turned the TV to a dreamy music channel, let the sound wash over me, and rested my head back in perfect bliss. And I sighed:

"Ah, money."

Socializing in Solo

Socializing in Solo

If you give six people something to do by themselves, and then have them do it while they're in a room together, is that a social experience?

For instance, say the activity is actually inactivity, more specifically the inactivity of waiting and the act of looking out the window absent-mindedly. Say the environment we're talking about here is a car, just to make it easier to visualize. And to add a human touch, let's say it's a family in the car. Is this a social environment, or just a combination of six solitary environments?

I could certainly see the multiplayer aspect of a family sitting in a car if that family happened to be fighting. But say they're listening to the radio, or not even so much as listening to the radio. In theory, the people should get bored and have no choice but to start talking, at which point the environment will become a social one. In theory.

But let us further assume that in this family there are not enough common interests to start up a conversation, or at least a conversation which will engage more than two or three of the passengers. Maybe three of the family members are in a heated discussion about politics, while the other three are left out due to their own disinterest. We can say that there are four wholly separate "environments" (one involving three people, the other three involving one each) existing within this car. Whether those left out are doing anything or not, and what they are doing, is completely irrelevant for identifying socialization, because their presence does not affect anyone around them.

Now, at this point you may very well be suprised to learn that this is not really a hypothetical scenario at all, but in fact a true story in which the characters are my family (myself included). But do not worry!- The situation is not quite as hopeless as you might think, for we had a DVD player in the car!

Now, watching a DVD is a single-player activity, so to speak. The filmmaker (excepting certain specific cases) gives no thought to what social context the video will be viewed in- the best, most pure way to enjoy a movie is with as few social distractions as possible, so that you can view it on its own terms rather than the random social context it has been placed in.

You probably have already anticipated the question which I am leading toward (Well done!): "How does a one-person experience fare in a setting with more than one person?" We all know that it works fairly well in a theater setting, due to the unspoken rule "SHUT UP AND WATCH THE MOVIE!". (It is unspoken mostly because everyone has shut up and is watching the movie.) A car is a smaller yet more chaotic setting, because not everyone is involved in the watching of the movie. The screen is placed in between the backs of the front seats, hanging from the ceiling. Thus there are at all times two people (one thankfully being the driver) who cannot see the movie. Keep in mind that they can hear it nonetheless.

Some of the rules are inherited from theater, to retain some measure of common courtesy. Namely, no one person should control the pacing, and all present are to remain silent for the entire duration of the film. At this point we have six solo experiences within the car: four viewings of the movie, and two waitings in silence, with a little driving added in. This situation may seem stable at first, but it is not. The two in front (one of whom happens to like to have control over the situation in his car) are bored enough to talk but forbidden to, and so they occupy themselves with the one activity left to them:
Fiddling with the volume control to make the louder portions of the movie less unpleasant for themselves.

Suddenly a social experience emerges, and a complex one at that. The volume is adjusted only at especially loud segments (such as action scenes), but a good movie will usually not be perfectly consistant in its dynamics and so the softer portions, often containing only dialogue, cannot be heard at all. And so the four interact between each other, with exchanges like this:
"What did he say?"
"I don't know- I didn't hear. Did you hear what he said?"
"Me? No- you're the one by the speaker!"
"But I was leaning over here to see the screen better! What did he say, really?"
"Is that my fault?"
"I think he said something about horses and windmills."
"Your ears are broken, he said something like 'I have no foot with which to eat my lunch.'!"
"Shut up and let me watch the movie!"

And then the four viewers must put their trust in one of their number, sitting in the middle row, to control the pacing so they can watch that segment over and over again. When it turns out that it still can't be heard, another facet of this game appears, in which one brave member of the viewers must ask one or the other of the nonviewers to raise the volume again, while taking into account which of the two was the one to lower it in the first place (so as not to offend), how much time has passed since the lowering, how many times he and/or others have asked (at risk of frustrating the front-sitters), how forceful such a request must be and whether it need be asked several times, and the fact that everyone in the car knows that it will get louder again later and again upset the driver and his companion. In the meantime the movie has still been playing, leading to more flow-control, and the front-sitters have taken the opportunity presented by the commotion (an indication that the movie has lost focus) to start a short conversation between themselves. All participants in this now-unified car may bask in the light of the social atmosphere.

And now we may return to the original question, and ask: "If you give each six people a single-player experience, and then have them do it while they're stuck with the others, is that a social experience?" And now we see in practice the answer which was obvious from the start:

No.

But if you stick these chaos-ridden people in a room together, unless the setting is as stable and time-tested as can be, one of these people is likely to stop playing in their own corner and start affecting everyone else. At that point, all involved will be having a social experience.

And I hope I've made myself clear: This is most assuredly NOT a good thing.

Throwing a one-person experience into an unstable social environment is like throwing a person into a pit of untamed crocodiles. Big ones. With sharp teeth and nasty tempers.

Volume is one problem, and it was as much a concern when I was trying to listen to music as when we were watching a DVD- more so, in fact. The solution would be some sort of "audio contrast" control, which the divergence of the volume from the norm would be divided by. (If you lower the audio contrast to 0%, the volume stays consistantly at one level. If you raise it to 150%, all differences in dynamics are exaggerated. In this case, we'd want to keep it around 40% or so.) It would detract very much from the quality of the single-player experience, but concessions must be made to the crocodiles in order to escape the worse alternative. Audio contrast is a very important feature to the stereo system of any social environment used for music and movies with changing dynamics -like say a car. Too bad it doesn't actually exist.

Even if it did, the volume problem wouldn't go away in all settings. At almost every social setting on the whole trip, I played the piano. What else would I do- talk? Neah, I preferred to show off. So I would play for them much as I do at home to amuse myself. It was a form of socialization to begin with here, because it was affecting the people around me. (This is not to say that I payed any notice at all of whether anyone actually wanted me to play- I didn't care.) Now, I was trying to be considerate to some degree, so I didn't play my most bombastic pieces. Some people commented that my music could be classified as "easy listening" music, and I pointed out that under the circumstances I couldn't very well play anything else. But that wasn't enough for my father, who kept coming over (every time I did this, several times) and begging me to "keep it down". I was the one in control of the volume here, playing the piano as a single-player game, but it was a crowd. It doesn't work, I tell you.

Pacing is another frequent problem. When we were at The Art Institute of Chicago, I tried to savor each pretty painting I came across. Well, not every pretty painting, but there were some which grabbed my eye, and I'd just stand for minutes, not really analyzing so much as looking through the "window" the frame was, into this other world within. This isn't exactly how my sisters approached the museum. Miriam and Dena must have ran through the rooms, because my father came to tell me that they were bored so it was time to leave. Art is something which must be appreciated for yourself. It's not a group activity. And we put it in a social setting, and -smush- there goes half the experience.

We were only in Illinois for two days. I wanted to stay. No, I mean for good- I really do love my grandparents' house. I enjoyed myself just walking back and forth in their house, I love it so much. We didn't do all that much in Illinois, but that's the thing about contentment- it doesn't rely on keeping busy. It didn't take me any time at all from the time we arrived to get settled into "my" room- it really did feel like coming home. I didn't want to go. It was a personal thing, between me and the house. And we had come as a family. We left.

My family

My family

Family trips are about standing around smiling for photos.

I don't do that.

I didn't get the true family trip experience.


What I did get is a fair amount of time sitting around with these people. This was the most forgettable part of the trip.

But surely I learned something about my family I didn't know before? Surely I bonded with them more than I could have at home...?


Eh.


I did learn some stuff about Benjy, I guess. Or maybe I'd known it before, but forgot it because it'd been so long since seeing him.

One thing I learned is that he has a pretty good artistic sense.
When we were at Niagara Falls on the "Maid of the Mist" boat ride, there was one priceless moment I noticed. There was a speaker on the boat with recorded tour info playing for the first few minutes of the ride- you know, boring dates and stuff. Halfway through, we reached the climax of the experience, being right next to the waterfall and getting totally drenched. And at that precise moment, the speaker announced in that proud marketing voice, "Welcome to Niagara Falls!" It was like a movie, where they hold off the opening title for a few minutes. Whoever had written that knew exactly what people were coming for.

Well, I was surprised that Benjy noticed that, too. When he got off the boat, he mentioned it, so that's how I know.


Oh, and he's a smart photographer. He brought his camera everywhere, but as he put it, "I prefer not to set up my shots.". Instead, he tries to take more natural pictures of how everyone would have been standing anyway. I like that.

Benjy had this wacky idea, when we were in Detroit, of a variant of Ping Pong which even the little kids present could join in on. In this game, it didn't matter if the ball went completely off the table, so long as it was bouncing like a basketball. So the game environment included the entire room and everything/one in it. It was so chaotic, it reminded me of games Benjy used to make up when we lived in New Jersey. And it occured to me that games are more fun when there aren't any rigid rules, and you just play. That's something Benjy's always known.


My father really enjoyed the trip. Sure, it was hectic, but we got to do some stuff he loved. Namely, the International Spy Museum. Though we really had to rush through that, it really sparked his imagination. He wouldn't stop talking about espionage for around two weeks after that. It was a really fun museum.

In Chicago, my father played ping pong with us. He hadn't played in around ten years. And he whipped us at that game. Occasionally I see something like that, which reminds me that he's a very multi-talented guy. Most of the time, he's just running around doing things.

He and my mother had some nostalgic fun in Boston and Baltimore going to the places they lived and went to college. They both enjoyed that, though my father enjoyed it much more (You could see it on his face.).

In Baltimore we stopped by a couple who'd been good friends with my parents back then. And I learned the amusing anecdote that even back in college, my mother was trying to stay busy helping everyone else out. They called her "Mother Fallet". My mother didn't remember that, but it makes sense. She hasn't changed so much.

I don't think my mother knew what to do with herself on this trip. We were staying at hotels and other people's houses, where she couldn't do all the chores. And she doesn't know how to have fun. It was pretty sad seeing her sitting with me watching TV when there wasn't anything good on. She wasn't enjoying it, yet she was even watching the commercials because she just couldn't think of anything to do, what with the lack of political/social activities to volunteer for.


I'm pretty sure she enjoyed all the schmoozing she did, though. She generally likes that.


My sisters were, um, there.


Miriam kept singing pop songs wherever we were, and I kept trying to get her to stop.


Dena kept criticizing me for being so weird, and I ignored her.





Excellence vs. Accessibility

Excellence vs. Accessibility

On the long trip to Detroit, I handed my father a CD to put in the player. It was Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, one of the greatest works of music ever composed. Beethoven liked to make use of strong contrasts in dynamics for dramatic effect, and so I found myself pressing my left ear to the speaker in order to hear anything at all. I did my best under the circumstances to appreciate the hour-long masterwork, as my family chatted loudly amongst themselves and waited for the whole thing to finish already. It is a piece of music which aims to do absolutely everything in one work, going so far as including an opera in the final movement. Even in that awful setting, I gained a new level of appreciation for the music as I listened. But why should any of that interest my family? They just got a kick out of hearing "Ode to Joy" toward the end; otherwise, it had no appeal for them.

It reached its satisfying conclusion, I took the disc back, and my father turned on the radio. What I heard was a short song which sounded just like any other, with phoney romantic lyrics market-tested to appeal to as large a target audience as possible, with the most obvious harmonic progression you could think of, but a slightly catchy simplistic tune. Miriam and Dena asked my father to raise the volume because they'd heard this song before. He did so, and why not?- the volume was a constant all the way through.

To summarize: Two hundred years ago, there was music which aimed to do everything. Now, there is music which aims to do nothing. Now that's progress.

But I wondered if I shouldn't lose sight of what audience the music was dealing with. My family weren't the sort of audience who cared enough about music to appreciate greatness, but they were looking for some mild entertainment they could use to keep themselves occupied for a few minutes at a time, and if it was soft and inobtrusive enough to allow them to chat on top of it, so much the better. They wanted to not have to get too involved, they wanted simple tunes diluted with simple lyrics. The music on the radio isn't an unwanted plague, it's serving a popular demand.

I can relate to wanting simplification, wanting more accessibility. When we went to Lincoln Memorial, I had a hard time figuring out what the point was, faced with historical context and the specific wording of a historic speech and an image of a historical figure. That's because I just don't care for history, and am unwilling to put in the effort I'd need to understand it.

But in Boston, we heard a small part of a tour about history which I actually enjoyed. Sillily, the tour guide was an actor dressed in old-fashioned clothes. He wasn't a historian at all, just a good storyteller, expressing historical trivia as compelling tales of ordinary people. It wasn't particularly informative, considering that I don't remember anything he said, but I had a very good few minutes listening to each story. I didn't want a history lesson of the sort that only appeals to enthusiasts, because I didn't have the patience nor the interest for history. But what's wrong with enjoying a little bit of simplified history on my level?

It occurred to me that if history were told (accurately, of course) through dramatic movies and exploration games, then most everyone, myself included, would love learning history.

After the Shabbat we spent in Detroit, one of my newly-bar-mitzvahed-cousins showed Benjy and me a flight simulator he liked: Microsoft Flight Simulator 2002. He had a joystick, and I waited eagerly to see him take off and have some fun flying. It took him ten minutes just to get off the ground, because this simulator was so obsessed with realism that he needed to go through dozens of communications with the tower in preparation, and needed to fiddle with many little doohickeys in the cockpit to be able to take off. When he did take off (using the joystick) and had the plane on its way, he put the joystick down and put the plane on auto-pilot. Apparently, this game was designed entirely for realism -not fun. There was no reward for any of the actions the player took, no excitement, no danger. It was so mundane. I begged him to crash the plane, so that we could at least see an explosion. But he was too responsible a virtual pilot. Yawn.

What I would want to see in a flight game is the experience of flying distilled to the raw thrill of soaring around. You should be able to use that joystick to swing around wildly, thrown off course by every gust of wind, and feel like you are the plane (or preferably a bird) flying free. That's an accessible feeling, a universal feeling. Maybe it wouldn't last for more than a minute or two, but that short time would be such wonderful wish fulfillment.

In Illinois, my grandfather took us out on his boat. He's got a really nice boat, with a refrigerator and a dining room and a bedroom and a bathroom and a nice set-up for the radio. It's a good, reliable boat with all sorts of digital doohickeys all over the place. I wasn't interested in learning to use those doohickeys to use the wind for maximum speed, nor was I interested in understanding what every little bit of the boat was there for, so I just sat in my place and let Benjy and my father help out.

Now, the ideal work would work on both levels. It would be deep enough for pros, but accessible enough to pull in ordinary people so that they might become pros. As I sat, I pictured a fantasy metalude set on an ocean a la The Wind Waker, which would have a great deal of realism in its sailing mechanics (unlike that game's simplistic accessibility) but remain universal in its appeal by using that fictional setting to justify the effort. I'd be perfectly willing to be guided through the real-world nuances of sailing if I saw an interesting-looking uncharted island far off that was sure to have some excitement on it. The lure of the great unknown would pull in the newcomer (initially learning the ropes from an NPC with him), who would then get caught up in the depth of the simulator and have fun not only on the island but in between islands as well.

The last time we saw our other grandparents in Boston, they wanted to take a family photo while they could. They'd had a flat tire, so we were by a street. They didn't like that, but it's what we had. I wished I had had a camera of my own, but it was too late for that. I stood for their picture in a distracted pose, as if I'd rather not be in that particular photo. I couldn't stop them from taking only the most accessible type of picture, and I wasn't sure that I should. But I had the opportunity to add some depth and truth to the image, and so I did.

Diversity (and lack thereof)

Diversity (and lack thereof)

I imagine the world is a big place. But it doesn't seem that way.

Okay, space-wise it's big. And it sure took a lot of time to go the length we did, both by plane and car.

But I'm accustomed to videogames, where I can go from a boiling hot desert with erupting volcanoes and flying lava and rock-monsters attack to a frozen forest with no gravity and funny-looking animal-people who live in invisible shoes just by taking an elevator. So my standards aren't in sync with the Real World.

The Real World isn't so exquisitely designed. Once we left the airport, apart from the language difference we might as well have still been in Tel Aviv. Roads, roads, and more roads awaited us. And here's the kicker: They were black with white stripes and green signs.

What? That doesn't shock you? Well, it should! What a lack of imagination! Would it have killed these countries to be original? Where's the place, I asked everyone around, with pink and yellow roads? Where's the place where the roads are all underground?

See, I don't think it's enough for each place you go to to have different coordinates on the map. I think each place should feel different. How were the roads here any different than the Israeli roads? Hmmm:
  • The traffic lights were slightly different.
  • There were more pronounced sidewalks.
  • Did I mention the traffic lights? Oh, and there were fewer zebra-striped crosswalks too.
Already you can see that the price of the plane ticket was totally worth it.

We actually crossed the border into Canada, but if it weren't for the different pictures on the crossing lights and the font on the road signs, I might never have known. The roads looked the same there too.

And why is it that every car looks the same? I know people always think I'm stupid for asking that but- They do! Where are the one-seaters? Where are the triple-decker ones? Where are the long thin ones with three seats, one in back of the other? Where are the ones where the driver is underneath the rest of the seats, by the wheels? Or on top of the roof, where he can get a real view?

And not only were they all the same design, but they all seemed to be the same boring colors as well! I couldn't have picked our rented car out from the rest in a parking lot, because they were all the same color. What good is having a DVD player on the inside, when on the outside it looks so bland? (How bland? Well, I can't remember what color it was- that's how bland.) Where were the cars with polka dots?

So what about the people? Surely, you ask, I met hundreds of interesting people while driving all that distance?

Heh. No, I'm just kidding- I know you didn't ask that. I mean, everyone knows that the last thing you'll see on the road is a human being! (Except for the oddly friendly American cops, who are too busy doing their two jobs to actually be human.) It's the beauty of progress- once upon a time, everyone walked everywhere through lovely forests and lava-filled monster-ridden deserts, and along the way they met everyone else who happened to be walking. (It should be noted that back then, roads probably looked different from each other.) Then one day Mr. Ford came along, and everyone could finally hide their individuality from everyone else inside identical boxes of metal. And humanity, as a whole, breathed a sigh of relief.

Oh yes, people love to pretend they're no different from everyone else. My father was constantly insisting that I tuck in my tzitzit, because having them out would stand out too much in America. And then he also forced me to shave off my beard, and even the little messy tufts of hair on my cheeks! I liked those blatantly asymmetrical tufts. You look at the messy-tufts, and you say, "That's Mory.". Or at least that was the plan, which was why I was growing them at different lengths. He forced me to shave the messy-tufts off, so that I'd look more "normal" for the bar mitzvah pictures. Bleh!

There's one place where, horror of horrors, you actually have to see people who look different than you, and that's waiting on a line. While we were on a line for the "Maid of the Mist", we saw a bunch of Amish people. I don't think I'd seen any Amish before. My family thought they looked weird, and I think they saw that as a bad thing.

Myself, I thought they looked weird too. But weird is good! See, if someone looks different than you, you start to wonder if they live different too. If you were to see someone whose legs sprouted out of the top of his head and walked upside-down, you'd wonder if gravity was reversed where he lived and they all walked on ceilings. And that's a good thing to think about! Every time you see weirdness, the world grows a little.

The real problem is all the people who don't stand out, because as far as anyone else is concerned they don't exist. They're just a shadow of the larger culture, not individuals. They might as well be doing a job and wearing uniforms for all the humanity they display. Because ultimately, humanity is all about that weirdness, I think.

And people are weird, whether or not they show it. I bet every person in those cars is a fascinating individual in his own right. But driving through identical road after road, seeing them only as the inside of a metal box, you'd never know it.

I imagine the world really is a big place. But it doesn't seem that way.

Final Fantasy Tactics Advance

Final Fantasy Tactics Advance

I brought four games with me on the trip, but in all the free time I had (of which there was much), I only ever got around to playing one: Final Fantasy Tactics Advance.* (The long title, in case you're wondering, is because it was a tremendously simplified reworking -designed for the Game Boy Advance system- of the very difficult and inaccessible, story-driven and acclaimed Final Fantasy Tactics from 1997, itself a spin-off of the Final Fantasy RPG series.) It's a "tactical role-playing game", if that means anything to you. And it's by far the most addictive game I've ever played.

The gameplay goes something like this: You've got (within the context of the story the game's developers wanted to tell) a team of assorted types of fighters which you put together yourself. You decide what the job of each should be (ninja, archer, healer, sorceror, gunner, etc.), what abilities they should learn (immobilizing, healing, blinding, fire attack, reactive dodge, etc.), and essentially how you want them to work within the group. You are to develop each character from a useless shell into a unique fighter which can make practical contributions to the success of the missions you take, of which there are many to choose from. You take each "person" defined only by name and species, and give him purpose. Then you make use of them in practice, in relatively easy strategic battles, some of which are designed to push the story forward.

During all the time I played this game on the trip (of which there was much), I barely progressed through the story at all. Why bother? The more fun part is setting it all up, so I went only through the less meaningful battles, solely for the sake of giving my team experience I could work with. Besides, fights are fun for their own sake; I didn't need (or want) to be told why we were fighting.

The first time I ever played FFTA, it was on a "borrowed" copy. In fact, I played it twice from start to finish on that copy. The first time, I was figuring out the rules as I went along. The second time, I understood the basics, so I could finally appreciate the experience. And even by the end of the second playthrough (and it's not a particularly short game the way I play it), I'd barely scratched the surface of the potential in this game. So I resolved to buy my own copy. I bought one used copy off eBay, and it gave a very rare error message so I sent it back for a refund. Then I bought a used copy again, this time from Gamestop's website, and got exactly the same very rare error message. I suspect that it was in fact the very same cartridge I'd gotten rid of. So I bought it a third time, directly from a person I trusted.

That was the copy I was playing on.

You think that's excessive? Hm, maybe it is. But it sure was fun. During the boredom of waiting which seemed to go on forever, I appreciated being able to escape into this fantasy world where potential is so easily tapped, where (unlike other tactical RPGs) progress comes easy, where money is so easy to come by that the hard part is finding something new to use it on, and where every moment truly is what you make of it.

Not that the game is perfect. A few remnants of the Real World found their way in. Laws, for instance. What a nuisance. Every situation has its own arbitrary rules which must be obeyed, sometimes rules which completely block you from doing what ought to be done. Then there's the messy menu system, which makes all that lovely micromanagement a little harder to get at. And then there were the broken shoulder buttons on my Game Boy, which progressively got worse over the trip. By the time we were on the plane back, I couldn't play the game at all. Still, none of these factors prevented the game from being the best kind of escapism.

But the worst aspect of the game, by far, is the story. (And maybe now you'll see why I didn't want to progress through it!) It goes something like this: A bunch of small, unremarkable kids live miserably in the Real World in a small, unremarkable town called Ivalice. One is paralyzed, one is constantly teased, one is frequently beaten up by bullies, our hero (by the name of Marche) has lost a mother and rarely gets to see his father, and all four have to go to school. Their lives are completely meaningless, and they wish it were more like that video game series they like -"Final Fantasy"- with monsters and magic and epic quests and meaningful stories. Now, the kids happen to stumble across a standard-issue Magic Book™ and accidentally turn their town of Ivalice into the Kingdom of Ivalice, where all their fantasies can become reality. The player plays Marche, who for the entire course of the game is trying to destroy the fantasy Ivalice to get back to the real one.

And that's where they lose me. Basically, what the developers are saying is: "Hey kids! Escapism is bad! That miserable reality you live in? That's good!". So this boy Marche comes across as a bit of a moron. His friends try to reason with him, try to get him to appreciate all the countless ways in which the fantasy is better than reality and their lives are better for it. And he always counters with: "But it's just escapism! Don't you see it's wrong?". Yes, the main character in this game is actively trying to get the game to end.

And why should it? Why should I have to turn the game off and put it away? Why can't I just keep standing in place, pushing the characters to the limits of their potential and having fun? For that matter, why doesn't the game have expansion packs which add in new content to keep the game going? Or why couldn't it have been an online game, so that you never should run out of good (and bad) opponents and the developers can keep adding in new options for growth -new jobs, new abilities, new types of strategy, new storylines? Why can't I play this game for the rest of my life?

Magic book, take me too!

Wishing for Permanence

Wishing for Permanence

We took a tour of the Library of Congress. The tour itself was silly, but it was quite inspiring to see all those books in that one massive room, where anyone could read them. "But you don't read books!", Benjy interrupted. "I don't read books in practice;", I argued, "I like this place in principle." That started a little bit of an argument, because Benjy thought it was hypocritical to like an idea without wanting to follow it oneself. But I really did love the idea behind that place, my own dislike of reading notwithstanding. (If I'd realized then that there were comics there, I don't think his side of the argument could have held up.) I liked that anyone from the public could walk in there and start reading any book he could imagine. I liked that this library had an air of permanence to it, so that future generations could have access to all this. But most of all, I liked the idea that a person could potentially make this building into a fixture in his life, so that sources of art, entertainment and information would last the rest of his life. And in principle, I disliked that we were just tourists, coming to take a brief peek in at the room and leave. That's not what the building was made for.

We went to the wonderful New England Aquarium in Boston. It had so many interesting types of fish, and a special exhibit with the most gorgeous jellyfish, but the highlight was the big penguin tank in the center. There were some aquarium workers in the tank with the penguins, feeding them as they all got in line patiently and waited their turns. They knew all the names, how well which penguins got along, etc. All we knew was "Ooh! Penguins! How cute!". I got the distinct impression that we weren't getting the full experience here. The rest of the building was so big and filled that there was no way I could internalize all I was seeing. I ignored the science and just took in how pretty it all was, because I'm not a marine biologist who'd care about such things. Now, I can take quite a lot of prettiness, but at a certain point it just becomes overkill if you take it all in at once. I wondered what it would be like to see all that on a regular basis. I could imagine a fantasy world where everyone had penguins outside their door, and treated them the same as we treat cats. Or even in the real world, there must be someplace (Antarctica, maybe?) where that could happen. Now that would be cool. Them all bottled up in this big building where only a handful of people will see them regularly? That's not what animals were made for.

While we were there, we went to the on-site IMAX theater to see Sharks 3D. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that it was right up my alley- not a science-heavy documentary (as I'd expected) but just a succession of pretty pictures. Lovely. It makes you feel like you're one of these creatures who lives in the ocean, looking around at all the gorgeous things swimming around, of which sharks were only one of many species displayed. Now, nothing can really replicate the life of an underwater creature because they're permanently living in all this, but it gave us the next best thing by spending a lot of time on each animal. I can see how that might bore some people, but for me it was wonderful. Not least because this was an IMAX theater, not some tiny little Israeli theater. The special thing about IMAX isn't just that it's 3D- it's that the screen is enormous. I imagined a fantasy world in which I could watch every movie like that. Leaving the theater, I mentioned to Benjy that it would be so cool to be able to just go to an IMAX theater and watch, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey in 3D! That's what this sort of theater was made for!

[sigh]

Anyway, all this got me to thinking. If you take a large dose of some light entertainment once, you'll mildly enjoy it for the most part and possibly get a little dissatisfied. Why dissatisfied? Because it's overkill to have too much of a very subtle enjoyment all at once. But if you spread it out, taking small doses on a regular basis, it can enrich your life. For instance: A Sudoku puzzle is not exactly the most fun thing in the world. Spend an hour or two on such puzzles, and you'll be so bored you'll never want to do another such puzzle again. But if every morning you open the newspaper and do the Sudoku puzzle of the day, it can sharpen the mind. Same goes for crosswords, Kakuro, and all those handheld puzzle videogames of the kind (such as Polarium and Brain Age). And imagine how boring it would be to play Animal Crossing, a banal string of errands and smalltalk on the Gamecube, for hours at a time! But if you can integrate it into your life, working your real-life schedule around when events will be taking place in Animal Crossing, it's tremendous fun! And listening to a concert is the best way to appreciate music, but listening to the radio regularly has more of a positive effect on your life. I'm sure you can think of many more examples of your own.

There is a problem with aiming for such experiences- the whole time issue. If something takes a little bit of time every day, that's less time that you have for more sophisticated one-time experiences. Which means not only that each day is going to be fairly similar to the others (which is true of any sort of schedules), but that from a business perspective, there's less of a market for new things. Which is a problem for me as a person who would always like to see more diversity in art. Take online role-playing games, arguably the building blocks of future civilizations: They are so involving that the players not only neglect other games (The PC game market has been much smaller ever since World of Warcraft was released), but sometimes neglect the rest of their real-world lives! In order for such a game to be made responsibly, the gamists need to do more than just ensure the endless potential for growth. They need to design the game for short play sessions, which can be fit into standard schedules and not only the schedules of the obsessed.

But I admit all this reluctantly. Because I would like to imagine a fantasy world where everyone who wishes can and does read any book they ever want! Where anyone can walk right outside their doors and watch penguins in the cold. Where there is never a lack of pretty things to look at. Where any movie can be watched, at any time, in 3D on the finest IMAX screen. Where I can stay at Grandpa and Grandma's house, and where I can spend as much time as I want in a great art museum.

[sigh]

Exploration and Discovery

Exploration and Discovery

When I was a kid, every place I came to was an experience waiting to be had. And I'm not saying that an experience could be had in it- the place was the experience.

Take our old shul in Fair Lawn, New Jersey. There was this very little room with lots of coats hanging in it, and we used to play hide-and-seek around there. Now, an adult looking at this situation might say that I was hiding in the coat closet because we were playing hide-and-seek, but he'd have it backwards- I was playing hide-and-seek so that I'd get to hide in the coat closet. And when I ran in the hallways, I wasn't just using the hallways for running. I was enjoying that hallway! See, hallways are long, so they're best appreciated by running. Kids are connoisseurs for such things.

The hallway -which, along with the coat closet, was on the bottom floor- looped around a big room, with little rooms all around the edge. The big room was a place I only went in on Yom Kippur for davening. (At other times, that boring activity took place upstairs.) The rest of the year, I didn't go in there, which give it a bit of mystique. The little rooms I darted in and out of, which satisfyingly gave the impression of their tangential nature.

But there comes a certain time in a person's life when a room becomes just a room, when a hallway is only notable for leading you to where you're going, where a closet is no longer a place to hide but only a place to hang coats. And I am ashamed to say that I've passed that point.

That is what I learned on the second Shabbat, when we went back to the shul of my childhood. It was not, as the cliché goes, "smaller than I remembered". In fact, the rooms were exactly as I remembered them. But they were just rooms. I was on the other side of that big room now, the side which now hosts a second minyan. It was a room to daven in, nothing more. There was nothing left to discover except that the room wasn't any prettier than it absolutely had to be. The building had shrunk metaphorically; it had lost its magic.

This deterioration of spirit can't be helped, because it is tied to other socially assigned responsibilities. It is a social necessity to eventually see past what something is to what it is for - the rules of each and every social setting must be understood and obeyed. It is a social obligation to abandon abstraction in favor of practicality. It would be childish to see inherent value in architecture, or in streets and forests and the rest of the world for that matter. Focusing on them is a waste of time. A good adult should concern himself only with the question: "How efficiently does this serve my goals?"

Still, the change has left a big hole in my life. I fill that hole with exploration-driven games- namely, Metroid Prime and Myst. They provide me with worlds detached from social context, in which it is perfectly acceptable to walk around beautiful areas without having anything specific to do in them. Metroid Prime's world of Tallon IV is exquisitely designed, and offers platforming with which I can appreciate the world design. Because if there is a small platform, and a larger platform next to it, the proper way to appreciate that design is by jumping from one to the next, no? We gamers are connoisseurs for such things.

Unfortunately, a few remnants of the Real World find their way into both series. They would have to. If you think about it, there's something odd about a game serving the practical goal of an escape from practicality. And skipping past the cute little paradox of it all, the real problem in practice is who would want such a game? A kid won't need to look for a socially-accepted outlet for socially-unacceptable indulgence, because he wouldn't care about what's socially acceptable. (And how I envy him!) But an adult will have trained himself not to care about self-indulgence! The only people who would want such a game are those who understand practicality but don't want to live by it, those who indulge in art but need to fit into society regardless. In other words, people like me. But people like me are not numerous enough to pay for a game's development.

So compromises are made. Metroid includes a lot of action, and Myst includes a lot of puzzles. I can handle that. Action and puzzles aren't bad. And they are marketed promoting these as their selling points, along with stories which justify the exploration. That way, they can be sold to people who will have no appreciation for the exploration, who will play the games only so that they can beat them. These games are not made for them, but they would not be made without them.

All three subordinate game elements can be a bit of a nuisance at times, but I put up with them because I love to explore. I love the magic of the unknown, and how those foreign and wondrous lands can be integrated into my world-view with just a little repetition and backtracking. After a few times passing through a certain area of Tallon IV, I get to know it so well I don't need a map anymore. It becomes as real to me as any place I've ever been to in the Real World, and more real than most, because this place I've been allowed to experience.

There are very few places in the Real World I've had the privilege to get to know so well. For that matter, there are very few places I'd want to get to know, thanks to society's obsession with practicality. Most places are exactly the same, most places are boring. But I'm always looking for a place that can be different, a place that can not only be an experience in itself, but a good one. And when I find such an opportunity, I make the most of it. I once had a "Metroid moment" in Eilat, exploring by myself (on foot, of course) to find the pizza place. That was very satisfying. And possibly my fondest memories of the seventh grade -indeed, some of the fondest memories of my life- were exploring the big campus of Kiryat No'ar with Tuvia, filled with diverse and interestingly-placed buildings. And you'd better believe we experienced those buildings from every angle. We climbed roofs, scaled walls, hid in giant bushes, you name it.

Some of my family members, seeing me in areas I've been to a few times, think I have an excellent sense of direction. They're wrong. I have a terrible sense of direction. But when I find a good area, I leap at the opportunity to explore it, and so when I return to that area, it's almost like I'm coming home. Discovering an area isn't just short-term entertainment. It gives you a sense of ownership over that area, a sense that can last a good long time. Not literal ownership, mind you- I'm referring to how it implants itself in your memory so well that you could find your way through it in your sleep. It's satisfying in a way that you can't really understand unless you've done a fair amount of exploring yourself.

Why can't such experiences be more common in the Real World? I blame it on whatever idiot decided that cars, rather than people, deserved 80% of the road. The moron who dictated that these ugly, stinky metal machines were more entitled to inherit the world than humans. Cars don't explore. Cars efficiently move from point A to point B. That's a chore, not a process of discovery. The awkwardness and rigidness of their mechanical movement makes it impossible to appreciate the nuances of the world around you. On top of that, all the rules of driving distract you further, making it such a practical mishmash of little details to pay attention to that you're barely allowed to see where you are. And you're never alone on the road. Exploring is a personal experience, but you're never able to go in your own direction. There are cars in front of you, and cars in back of you, and cars to your side. So what should be a single-player experience is completely buried under the weight of this massively-multiplayer environment.

And the 20% of the road that's left? That stinks too. The sidewalk is just about the most simplistic piece of world design I can imagine. And it's all over the place. I would have no problem with a sidewalk placed here and there. There's nothing specifically wrong with them, since there's nothing to them. But a world with so many of these straight and boring stretches that its identity is defined by them? That's a pretty pathetic little world. Then add in the smell and noise of the cars, and maybe a dog doo every so often, just to make the picture complete.
Where are the cliffs to climb?
Where are the moving platforms?
Where are the tiny tunnels?
Where are the dangerous shortcuts?
Where are the gates dividing areas?
Where are the multi-level underground mazes?
Where are the above-ground skyways?
Where are the rooftop passageways?
Where are the colors?
Where are the sounds
And the sights
And the smells
And the whole experience?

Without diversity in world design, there's nothing to discover. And without the promise of discovery, there's no opportunity to explore.

It may be too late to save the streets, but thankfully there are still houses to fall back on. It is socially acceptable, though not socially agreeable, to have an interesting house. After all, if it's your house, you can do whatever you want with it. You can put the main entrance on the roof, or make the half-built attic into a bedroom, or face a couch to a window so you can watch the rain comfortably.

On the other hand, a house doesn't need to be unique to be good. For instance, my grandparents' house is perfectly socially acceptable, and yet it still excites me to be in it. One reason is that there's just a lot to discover in it. My father and his brothers lived in that house once, and all their old things are there waiting to be found. As such, the whole house is partially a way to escape into another time, with working 8-Track players and a Mattel Intellivision. I think there's even an Apple II lying around somewhere. And even better than all that is the box, sitting somewhere in the house, of my father's old Mad Magazine collection. These are issues from back in the 60's, back when the magazine was hysterically funny.

It might seem odd that I'd associate the house with these little gems, but every world designer knows that the easiest recipe for exploratory magic is a good treasure hunt. The promise that you might always find a new treasure around the corner -be it one of Metroid's power-ups, Myst's book pages or Eilat's pizza- raises the entire experience to a new level. And I must emphasize that actually getting that treasure is not the essence here- the promise is. I never found the box of Mad treasures, but it enhanced my time there to know that it was there for the taking.

Even beyond all that, though, it's a great house. Some of the rooms have truly striking appearances, and even the smell of each room is distinctive. When I said that I wished I could stay in that house, someone said I'd get bored of it quickly. But that person was an adult, and he was wrong.

When I was a kid, every house and every street seemed like an experience waiting to be had. Now that I'm older, the world has gotten a lot less magical. But every now and then, I'm reminded that there are still worlds worth discovering.

Socializing? Bleh!

Socializing? Bleh!

We came to Detroit for my cousins' bar mitzvah. That meant sitting through speeches and food and most of all, having to see extended family. I'm talking about people who I didn't even recognize, whose names I'd never remember and whose place on the family tree was hard to keep track of. "They're just family.", I thought, "What do I have to do with them?" Bar mitzvahs also mean standing through crowds. I really don't like crowds. I'd sit at the side, out of the way, in my little frog-sit that I do partly because everyone says it's so weird. And I'd wait.

On Shabbat, it happened to be raining. I love the rain. It's so peaceful and consistent and familiar. I stood outside of the shul in the rain to get away from the crowd inside. It was calm and peaceful. Everyone else came in raincoats, but I didn't. It seemed a bit backwards to come into the rain in the sort of outfit that would actively prevent you from appreciating it. It was only a very light rain, anyway, so it's not like I'd have to explain away being drenched. I could still hear the noise from inside, but it was good to be outside nonetheless. Or maybe that's backwards- maybe it was better for the noise inside. Whatever the reason, I liked it.

My father thought that was wrong. It seemed backwards to him that I'd come into a social setting with the sort of attitude that would actively prevent me from appreciating it. He was on the other side of that front door. And he pushed me (quite literally) in the way of the family members because I was acting too weird. I waited for him to walk away again, and escaped again. Would these people be talking about videogames, or comic books, or anything else that I might find interesting? Of course not- they'd all just ask that one same question. The question to which I had no satisfying answer, but which was the only question they'd find appropriate for a family member my age.

Basically, these were people who I'd never expect to see again in my life, because I'd never remember they existed. I'm not sure I'd want to remember they existed.

At one point, I tried hanging around Benjy. If I stand by someone else who is socializing, I can be close enough to seeming like a participant in that conversation so as to not have to socialize myself. People leave you alone if they see you standing by another conversation, whether or not you are really a part of that conversation. It's a nice little loophole in the social rules which I use whenever possible. The only downside is that it tends to irritate the person you're following. But if that person is a close family member or friend, then that's acceptable.

Anyway, I tried hanging around Benjy. He loves to talk about politics. I tried actually joining the conversation at one point, and made myself look like a complete fool. I don't have a brain capable of processing politics. There are all those little trivial details, and you're supposed to treat each one like it's the key to the whole issue. I don't see details, I see concepts. At one point the discussion looked like it related to a concept I was familiar with, so I brought that concept in. They said that had absolutely nothing to do with what they were talking about. I kept my mouth shut after that.

(Benjy sees me as a bit of a fool, I think. On a different occasion, I tried to understand the political discussion he was having with my parents, and he got increasingly frustrated when -my best efforts notwithstanding- I wasn't making any sense of the issues.)

In fact, keeping my mouth shut seems to be the best way to go in almost any social setting. I can't relate to what people like that say, and they couldn't relate to what I'd say, so it would always end in embarrassment. I kept my mouth shut at the bar mitzvah dinner, when the people at my table -all family members, roughly the same age as me- talked about all sorts of things I couldn't relate to. I waited for some hint of an opening I could crawl in to the conversation through. There wasn't one.

I waited for so long that I wasn't waiting for anything in particular anymore- just waiting. I kept waiting at the table later when everyone else got up to join in on conversations at other tables. And then some extended family member came over and introduced me to Ronnie, a kid related to me only in some roundabout way I didn't quite grasp. And Ronnie and I, we just started talking. And didn't stop, really. We were talking about videogames, mostly- the games he liked, the huge mistakes game developers tend to make, the future game systems, that sort of thing. Each little drop of a point adding to the others to make a satisfying light rain.

I knew I'd probably never see him again in my life, and he'd probably forget I existed. But I liked the conversation.

Back at our cousins' house, the adults engaged in lifeless smalltalk about nothing interesting. They listened to speeches and hung around with their extended family out of some sort of, I don't know, social obligation or something. Or maybe they really were enjoying it. Beats me. But downstairs were Uncle Perry's kids. I hadn't actually seen Uncle Perry in around eight years or so. And I was pleasantly surprised to find that he seemed like a really nice guy. But his kids- wow. His kids are so young and full of energy that it was fun just to be in the same room as them! They weren't talking so much as fooling around and jumping up and down and generally acting like kids. It was refreshing to see this other side of the family, to be reminded that that side even existed.

Or maybe it was just envy.
They didn't have to focus their socialization into these restrictive systems and acceptable environments. They didn't have to stand around with people they couldn't relate to.

Well, neither did I. I could sit in my little frog-sit over by the side.

Marcus thought I needed to be "fixed". That's Marcus, my longtime friend from New Jersey, with whom I spent most of the second Shabbat. It was nice to spend some time with him. But he thought there was something wrong with a person who stays away from other people. "What do you do when you go out with the guys?", he asked. "Um, what guys?", I dodged, enjoying this new opportunity to take the role of "weird creature". "Your guys! Oh, don't tell me you don't have guys! Everyone needs guys.". And as much as I enjoyed the attention, he wasn't wrong.

But really, what guys? Adults, who'd keep annoying me with that same question and never talk about anything interesting? Kids, who aren't capable of processing social rules? No, I'm pretty much limited to people like me, who are interested in concepts but not details, or people like Marcus, who are so into their own interests and full of energy that it can be fun (if tiring) to just be in the same room with them. But people like us, we're not numerous enough for a guy like me to be part of a group.

Every now and then, I get an opening into some group I'll never get to see again. I guess I should be thankful.

"So what are you doing next year?"

"So what are you doing next year?"

Adults are boring.

Any time I saw one, they'd ask me the same question. Couldn't anyone think of anything more interesting to ask? All they wanted to hear were plans for the future. They see people like stocks- if they're not making money now, their value depends on whether they'll make money in the future.

I'd always say that I planned to do "not much". I like that reply because it's the truth. Also, it doesn't put me in a situation where I'll have promised to do something. I can almost never get myself to follow through on those promises.

(All answers are replies, but not all replies are answers.)

That didn't satisfy them. They wanted to get me to go to a college, so I could get a job later on. They wanted me to stop fooling around and jumping up and down and start something.

So they'd wait around, hoping to see how they could someday get a return (in small quantities of pride) on their blood connection to me. (Family isn't as fair as the stock market, because you don't get to choose who to invest in.)

They'd find me later by the piano, and saw what they wanted to see. An adult would come over and say to me: "Do you know what your music reminds me of?" And I'd smile, because this was roughly the thirtieth person to go through this script since the beginning of the trip. And then, as expected, they'd name some famous contemporary pianist/composer I'd never heard of. (I know roughly zero about contemporary pianists.) I think it's supposed to be a compliment: If he got to be big and famous and make lots of money, then I could too!

The more people made comments like this, the funnier the whole routine got. Because no two people referred to the same composer! Apparently my music sounds like everyone else out there. And it's no compliment to think that I have nothing original to offer. But I'd laugh, because I just didn't care. I was playing for two reasons, and two reasons only:
  1. To show off, thereby getting attention.
  2. To entertain myself.
That was all.

"Nonsense", thought the adults. "This could be marketed and sold! I'd buy his CD, wouldn't you buy his CD?"

Some were even more direct. My Uncle Johnny, after hearing me do my best with a primitive keyboard in my aunt's basement, said I should send him an audio file with music and he'd bring it to a professional to make into a CD.

Don't get me wrong- I couldn't relate to these people, but I was not opposed to their interest. I like getting attention.

Still, I explained to my uncle that this was not a career choice for me. I was only playing because it was fun to play, not because I had anything to offer with my music. This was not something I'd ever seriously consider doing with my life.

"So what would you want to do with your life?"

Should I actually answer that question?, I asked myself. That would expose my lack of progress. How long has it been since I started that design? And still I have nothing to show for it. It would expose my lack of self-motivation. How rare is it that I actually finish something big that I start, rather than just ignoring it and hoping it'll go away?

But what the heck.

I told him I wanted to make videogames. And yes, I had something to offer there: a more progressive perspective. I explained that when I look around at the big videogame developers of today, I see that they don't have any idea what they're doing. They don't even understand what a videogame is, so how can they be expected to understand that they need to look at a platformer differently than they look at an action game, and more along the lines of dance?

I decided the platformer was a good example for everything that was wrong with modern gamists. Platformers lost their appeal as an independent art form when they focused too much on the story, or the worlds to explore, or the mini-games. The primary content of a platformer is its controls, and gamists don't even understand that most basic point. Wait right there, I said, and I got out my Game Boy and copy of Super Mario Bros. to illustrate. I gave it to him to play for ten seconds, to show him that these controls had personality, and would be fun to play even if there were nothing to do with them. And then I told him my idea, Through the Wind. (Or at least a small bit of it, since I've planned out quite a lot of it.)

The point being, I do have something to offer for videogames.

In Boston, we happened to be riding the "T" with our grandparents (on my mother's side), and my grandfather posed a challenge. He said that my little cousin is having trouble reading. He wondered if there could be a game which served the practical goal of teaching a young child to read. I instantly thought of all the ways that kind of game has been done wrong: each failed attempt grafting practical learning onto unrelated types of games. The game would need to embrace the concept of teaching letters. I asked for a minute to consider the problem.

And then I gave my solution. The game comes with a special controller, with only five (fairly large) buttons arranged in a circle. Each button has on its face one of the five vowels, in a different bright color. The goal (on the developer's side) of the game is less ambitious than teaching to read anything, but just to teach about the vowel sounds. On the screen is an abstract but constantly moving and changing animation. (The picture in my mind was along the lines of Electric Sheep, but it could certainly be a more relatable animation involving anthropomorphic characters.) That animation is in grayscale to begin with. Then a vowel appears on screen, accompanied by its sound. If the player presses the right button, the moving picture on the screen gets a little bit more colorful, by adding a little bit of that vowel's color from the controller. (That is a reward even a very young kid could appreciate.) Then, once the player has gotten the hang of it, the letters stop appearing though the sounds continue. If the player presses the right button, the screen gets more colorful. If he presses the wrong button, the screen gets grayer. Once the player gets the hang of that, the sounds are complete one-syllable words, and the button must be pressed which corresponds with the vowel in that word. Then (on a harder level) the other sounds that a vowel can make are added in, and then words for those sounds. With each level, the animation is more interesting than the previous level. Eventually, the player will know intuitively what sounds each vowel makes. That seems like a pretty huge first step.

The point being, I actually could apply my views to Real-World situations. They're not just abstract musings.

But will I ever apply myself, or will I just ignore the future as usual? Will I ever get the self-motivation to complete a big project?

I've promised too much on this blog already, promises I didn't keep. I've even promised on this blog that I'd keep the promises I make on this blog, and I didn't keep that either.

So I'm not going to make any promises. But I'll try.

Snapshots

Snapshots

We were standing around in our grandparents' basement when our father called us all into the study to see something. He'd found some trays of slides he'd taken a long time ago. They were mostly photos of him with all his old friends on trips to Israel. He smiled like he'd just discovered a buried treasure. We all sat around the room -me, Benjy, Miriam, Dena and our mother- and looked at the pictures (in which he looked strikingly like Benjy) as he gave an explanation of each one.


*clk*


I was sitting by myself at a table near the entrance of the Hampton Inn, happily eating breakfast. And what a breakfast it was! From the large selection of food on the tables, I'd taken a tiny container of Philadelphia cream cheese to put on a bagel I'd toasted, and a cup of tea, and a packet of Quaker instant oatmeal (Maple and Brown Sugar flavor). Normally I don't have breakfast. But why should I turn down such a feast? Soon I would catch up with my family, less concerned with enjoying themselves than with rushing to get out and on the road as quickly as possible. But for the moment, I ate my bagel and my oatmeal and drank my tea, and savored every bit of it with a smile.


*clk*


Benjy was showing us the Boston University building where he has classes. We sat on the floor, while he stood above us, leaning on the wall casually with a superior grin on his face. He was apparently enjoying that here he owned the place relative to us, though he wanted to be seen only as mildly bored. Not literal ownership, of course- just a sense that he knew this place like the back of his hand while we were only visitors. Miriam and Dena sat by him, while I frog-sat farther back by a wall, just a little bit further into the hallway. And I thought to myself, what a wonderful photo this would make, with me in the bottom left of the frame and Benjy around the top middle. What a perfect angle. And once again I wished I had a camera. But I didn't have one, and the moment passed.


*clk*


"You know what you need on your motorcycle?", I said to Benjy as we walked, "More little doohickeys.". It didn't seem right to me that a guy like Benjy, who likes to pay attention to twenty little details at once, would own such a simple vehicle as opposed to, say, an airplane. "What would these 'doohickeys' do?", he said. "How should I know? I don't have the mind for this sort of thing, you do. You should have so many little digital doohickeys that there's barely room for your hands." And as we went on down the street, he was probably wishing he could be having a conversation with someone else.


*clk*


We'd been sitting in the car for hours. My father was driving through unremarkable roads. My mother was talking to him about something or other; I couldn't really tell what they were saying from the back. Dena was sitting by the window, doing nothing in particular. Miriam was listening to music on her little player. Benjy was working on his laptop, connected to the internet at almost all times. I was in the back, on his other laptop, reading comics I'd brought with me on a CD. We all kept waiting.


*clk*


We were pulled over on the sidewalk with our grandparents (on my mother's side) and their car. My father was by the bottom of the car, helping out in some way. My grandfather was standing by him very straight, surveying the flat tire resentfully. My mother and her mother were arguing. Benjy stood on the left, talking on his cell phone to someone. Miriam and Dena stood around our mother looking serious, to fit in with the tone around them. I sat in the back out of the scene, with my little frog-sit, wishing I had a camera to take this most wonderful of family portraits. But I had no camera, and to ask a family member for a camera would (even assuming they broke out of the scene enough to grant my request) move them from their perfect positions. For that matter, I wasn't fond of leaving my perfect position in the picture either. And how could a camera capture that entire scene with me in it, anyway? Soon they'd work out the problem, and my grandmother would demand a traditional and wholly artificial family portrait- the kind which is all most people would think of. But for the moment, I looked at the pretty picture glad to be there in the first place.


*clk*


It was late, and all four of us kids were downstairs playing. Our grandparents' basement has a huge room with a pool table and a Nintendo 64 and a piano and two arcadey game machines which don't work and lots of closets with weird stuff in them. It's a cool room. We had a Ping Pong table out, so two of us were playing on that. And the other two were playing pool. And we went back and forth between the two games, and we'd watch each other's games. I'd never seen our family before as anything but an odd assortment of mismatched parts, but in this multiplayer environment it all just clicked. I wished we could stay in that room. I'd wanted to find an environment like that for so long. And just a few days later I'd buy the multiplayer game Pac-Man Vs. to try to recapture that, to some insignificant degree, at home. I didn't realize back in that basement that any such attempt would prove futile, that when this moment passed, it would pass for good. But then, I didn't know I'd ever get to have a moment like that, and yet here it was. Tomorrow we'd continue the trip down a long list of places to go to. But for the moment.. I was glad to be there.


*clk*



I planned out most of this "block" of posts as I was in America experiencing all that I have just written down. I expected to have to write "around ten posts", but I don't think I really internalized what I was asking of myself. It certainly never occurred to me that I would still be working on it so many months later, and if it had I don't know if I would have gone through with it. And that's for the best, I think. Now that I am through with it, at long last, I'm very proud of what I've accomplished here. On the trip I wrote down some (very few, really) simple notes to remind myself of what to write, and I consulted these notes from the start (Even in the Introduction you can see how I'm trying to set all the pieces up.) to the end. And even in the end, I think it stayed pretty true to my original idea.

The point being, I have too wild an imagination, and it leads me through life like a wild horse trying to kick me off. I hope you've enjoyed some of this story.

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A pacifist has never won a war.


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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Imagined Opportunities

Dear Mory,

You, sir, are a bona fide idiot.

You keep making the same mistake, over and over and over again. Any normal person, or maybe a lesser animal, learns from experience. They'd figure it out after two, or maybe three times. But how many times do you have to make the same mistake before you figure it out? What am I talking about? Let me spell it out for you, in terms even you can understand:

If you get an opportunity you weren't expecting, then it's probably not real.

Okay, okay, I know it's not easy to be so skeptical. Everyone needs opportunities to offer something to others, be that a joke or a service or an experience. We understand this, you and I. And when you never get an opening, you get pretty desperate. When no one wanted to listen to your music in the Academy, you went and played in recesses anyway, pretending you would have whether or not your classmates were there. But really you'd reached the point where you thought you'd make openings for yourself where none existed. And what did that desperation get you? Did anyone in your class listen to what you were playing? No.

And with that desperation, it can be hard to be skeptical of openings that come your way. You want nothing more than to take it and for it to be real. But it never is. Those friendlier kids back there weren't interested in being friends just because they were willing to talk to you. Your sisters weren't really interested in Zelda. And they were never serious about getting that DS. And Dena wasn't really going to keep reading new comics, but did you ever shut up about these things? No! Did you ever figure out that you should stop getting your hopes up? No! And you know why? That's right, it's just because you're an idiot.

When someone is willing to borrow Myst, it doesn't mean he'll ever play it. When someone is willing to borrow Babylon 5 episodes, it doesn't mean he'll ever watch them. And yet you keep waiting, keep hoping that you can offer something. It never sinks in until after the moment of disappointment that the opportunity never existed in the first place.

Look what you've done now. The latest in a long line of idiotic emotional investments. The latest time you've left yourself open to disappointment by paying attention to vague hints. It started when Sammy mentioned on her blog that her birthday was coming up. You knew how hard it always was to understand what she was saying and you saw the part where she said it was in just a few days. And she's not even your friend, so you didn't really have any excuse! It's not like you know anything about her but for the ridiculously vague things she posts about.

Well, you were so desperate to get your music appreciated by anyone that you took this as an opportunity. "I never got anything for my birthday.", you said, "Maybe it would be nice to give a birthday present for once.". And that's all it took to fool yourself. Never mind that she never said when her birthday was, even when you flat-out asked her. And never mind that she specifically said it was in just a few days. You had to assume that since her blog went by Gregorian dates, the date she had used as her birthday last year was her birthday. And you got the ridiculous notion in your head that since she (you thought) played piano, you'd have an excuse here to compose something that someone else might play. What an idiot.

That date I was going by was the Hebrew date. Her birthday had been a month earlier. (She doesn't use the Hebrew dates on her blog presumably because she doesn't know she can, and not because she cares about Gregorian dates at all.) And to top it all off, she's not even playing piano anymore! And so I'm left, wishing her a happy birthday and practically getting ready to beg to give her a piece I've just composed.

It was quite humiliating, really.

And all because you can't get it through your head that these opportunities you're seeing aren't real. They're just mirages, the daydreams of the overactive imagination of a desperate idiot.

Please don't do anything like this again.

5 Comments:

Tamir said:

You know, as much as I wish I could deny it, you're right. At least about the one referring to me.

Which isn't to say that real openings never exist....only that they're not quite as frequent as we would like them to be.

But that leaves you with three options, see...
You can ignore such oppotunities completely, and by doing so miss out on the real ones.
You can try to sort them, figure out which ones are real and which aren't.
Or you can try them all anyway, even if they are naught but fata morgana.

Why would you choose such a thing? Because there's always a chance. There's a chance of success, a chance that people will see what you have to offer. It would be a shame to give up and lose that chance.

Me, I couldn't see what you're offering. I couldn't understand it. Because we're different people, see, and we see things differently.
But one of these days you're going to open up to someone who can actually appreciate you, and learn from what you have to offer. Are you going to give up on that?

When I look at you, I see this "mistake" you make - only I don't see it as a mistake. I see someone who tries hard to share with the world his knowledge, his experiences, his loves....himself, really. And despite the fact that there seem to be no takers, he resolutely continues spreading his message, himself.
I see it as something honorable, that I could not do myself. It seems strange to me now that you would want to change it.

 Mory said:

Why wouldn't I want to change it? I keep doing this, and every time I do I end up terribly disappointed. I can't think of a single time that there was a happy ending to one of these stories, so I don't need to worry too much about mistaking real opportunities for imagined ones. So it's better not to set myself up for that.

Tamir said:

This is confusing me....I thought this was a part of who you are, just like creating art for its own sake is. I was sure you knew the potential cost of your actions, and were acting in spite of it. I thought you were willing to risk almost definite disappointment in the hopes that another would understand. I looked up to that. Now I'm confused.

It's your decision, naturally, and as I stated above, I already made the choice you are seemingly about to make. I did it because I could not bear doing things the way you have...I couldn't cope with the disappointment. Until now, I thought you were stronger than me. Is this not the case?

If not, then by all means stop making the mistake.

 Mory said:

I'm not sure where I was unclear. This isn't about strength of character- the issue here is stupidity. What I am saying is that I frequently think I see opportunities where none exist, and then proceed to run blindly into a dead end. That's not "honorable", it's boneheaded. You seem to think I acted this way by choice, time and time again, but I did not. Every single time, I regret it. No, I just don't think. Someone mentions offhand that they've heard of Zelda, and I can't get off their case for years trying to get them to play Ocarina of Time in its entirety. That I never "have any takers" is regrettable, but it's no excuse for making the same mistake over and over.

Tamir said:

All right, then. I simply seem to have been very wrong about you. Oh well.

By the way, just so you don't feel too stupid - I made the same mistake regarding Sammy's birthday. ^_~

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Thursday, August 03, 2006

Pained by Numbers

On this day long ago our temple was destroyed. I'm supposed to get worked up about this or something. Okay, I see the significance. I see that we had a loss and should remember that. But I don't know what mourning is.

(Excuse me if this post is not a great work of art; I am fasting.)

How do I mourn? I learned a lot from Rav Ariel, the Rosh Yeshiva of Dvir and the head of Machon HaMikdash, but nothing that would make me want to break down and cry about losing the temple. My parents insist that the only thing that a person may do in the proper spirit of the 9th of Av is go to a lecture. Bl'bah! Well, actually, that's not entirely true- my mother did talk me into going to the walk around the walls of old Jerusalem last night:
"Did you want to come with us to the walk around the walls?"
"No. Why would I want to do that?"
"It'll give the day meaning."
"Okay, I'll come."

It didn't give the day meaning- it was just a crowd, and I don't like crowds. I said that if we were going in a crowd like that up to the Temple Mount itself- that would be inspirational. But this was so safe the police had even blocked off the area ahead of time and were watching to make sure nothing happened. It's not a spiritual experience if you don't have to fight for it. So that was a whole lotta blah, with me thinking about abstract world designs to occupy myself with.

Anyway, the rabbis who decided on the halacha knew that most people, like me, didn't have a clue how to mourn. So they implemented laws to force you to mourn anyway. Laws like fasting, and not wearing leather shoes (but why just leather?- Eah, that's a question for another time.) and that sort of stuff. My father read us some of the laws a few days ago. You can't play or listen music, which tells me to stay away from the piano. You can't dance, which tells me to stay away from platformers. You can't wander around for enjoyment, which tells me to stay away from most of my favorite games. The halacha also says you can't sit on a chair, so I was sitting on the floor and reaching up to my keyboard, but then I saw my father sitting on the couch so I decided it wasn't such a big deal if I ignored that law.

So what am I going to do now? Well, I don't think there was any law there that would prevent me from watching episodes of Samurai Jack. So that's what I'll do. And then maybe I'll play Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, because it has no exploration and meaningless controls so it's technically okay. This shouldn't be such a bad day at all.

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Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Fudgie and Willy

Sometimes around 10:00 my parents ask me to walk our dog Fudgie. And for some strange reason Pussywillow often tags along. It's the cutest thing, but I don't get it. Fudgie's there walking around the street because she needs to. I'm walking around the street with her because I was told to. (I don't use a leash- she's such an obedient dog that I don't need one.) But Willy- why is he there?

It's not like they particularly like each other. I mean, they never bother each other, but they never do anything else with each other either. Just these walks. So they're not exactly friends. They each know the other's there -------
What of it?
, in the same way they know the refrigerator is there. But they rarely have any sort of interaction with each other at all.

When do they interact? Well, Fudgie's pretty bossy, or at least she'd like to be. We used to have lots of cats going through our backyard, but now it's pretty much just the three stray cats Fudgie knows best. Anyone else, she scares off. She might have scared off those two early on if we hadn't made it clear that we like them. She doesn't try to do things which would make us unhappy- yeah, she's a really obedient dog. She loves Sukkot, when we're in the backyard all the time, because she knows we don't want any cats bothering us in the Sukkah. So she tries to scare away any cat who comes near, stranger or not.

By the same token, she never attacks Willy unless she catches him commiting a crime- most often sharpening his claws on the couch. Within a second she'll be there and threatening a vicious attack, and he'll be hiding under a table. She makes a good cop. She also sees the backyard as off-limits for Willy, so if he ever tries walking outside through the back she chases him back in. These are really the only interactions they ever have except for the walks.

Why does he come on our walks? He doesn't seem to need the company. If another cat comes near him to say hello, he runs away. Seriously, there was a while when this little black cat ran after him whenever she saw him outside, just to be friendly, so he stayed inside all the time. He's like me. Fudgie loves crowds, but Willy can't stand them. He spends his day exploring for resting spots (and resting in them), not playing with other cats or with people or with Fudgie.

He does what he feels like doing when he feels like doing it. If he wants to eat, he eats. If he wants to go out, we let him out. If he wants to sleep, he's probably already asleep. If someone calls him, he pretends he doesn't notice. (He comes only at such a moment that he decides for himself that he would like to be petted.) It's not that he's impatient- if he wants something he can't get yet, he's more likely to wait around and lick himself for hours 'til someone happens to be nearby than he is to bother us with his meowing. (This contrasts sharply with Fudgie.) But he doesn't let other people tell him what to do. Not exactly the type of personality I'd expect to go following someone around just because she happens to be on her walk at the time.

At first, I thought he was just following us because he wanted to get in the house and knew the door would open when we were done. But then a few times he actually went out of the house with us to join our walk, then went back in with us when we were done. Even now, I half expect him to stop following us at any moment, noticing that he's not getting anything out of it. I mean, he isn't, is he? I'm the only one who gets anything out of it, because I get to watch the cute little family scene in amusement. Fudgie eagerly walks in the lead, with me trailing behind her and Willy behind, with his little bell ringing at every step, trying to catch up. Or if Fudgie stops for a minute, Willy will walk on ahead and wait there for her.

I don't know- maybe he just doesn't want to feel left out.

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Wednesday, July 26, 2006

The Older Pianist

Back when I was in seventh grade
In the school Yeshivat Dvir,
There was an older guy who played
Piano songs by ear.
At every chance I got, I sat
Nearby his playing to hear.
I never could have played like that-
That much was crystal clear.

I listened to the music filled with curiosity:
He could play a tune he knew and improvise the harmony!
So I asked him how he got such skill and he said modestly
That he'd been playing since he was five, but he still wasn't very good.

Well, that wasn't quite the answer I was expecting.
No teacher?
No teacher, he said.
No notes to play from?
No notes, he said.
A genius! I said.
And he asked me to leave the room.

I left that room quite satisfied
That I now understood:
This twelfth-grader is so bright inside-
No wonder he's so good!
And at such an age a bona fide
Piano genius starts to play;
If for fifty years I tried
Would I come close? I cannot say.

This didn't really bother me
When I sat at the keys.
I pressed a few notes randomly-
It really was a breeze.
I had no clue how I might do
Successful harmonies
But had no fears, for my own ears
Were all I had to please.

Even so, I sometimes wondered how he made such lovely sounds.
So I'd play some songs from movies when nobody was around.
Or at least I'd try. I knew not why an octave's all I found
For accompaniment, as opposed to all those arpeggios and fancy stuff he did.

I didn't understand it.
Try a broken chord!, I told myself.
But I couldn't do it.
Try an interesting harmonic progression!, I told myself.
But I couldn't do it.
So go back to pressing notes randomly like an idiot, I told myself.
And there was nothing to it.

For the next two years I trained my ears
To tell which noises were nice.
Though all of my tunes befitted buffoons
I never was concise:
I'd turn each grain I liked into
A long piece more precise.
Meanwhile, I heard but never listened to
My teachers' best advice.


I met another player then
Who practiced every day.
He only ever played Chopin-
I listened anyway.
All I could do was marvel at
The speed his hands could play.
That I never could have played like that
I didn't have to say.

He'd practice some Prelude, and I would sit nearby and stare:
He could play with such emotion, with such energy and flair.
So I asked him how he got to be so excellent a player.
I practice a lot, he said.

I didn't care for that answer at all.
Didn't you play at a young age? I asked.
Yes, he said.
Don't you have a very good teacher? I asked.
Yes, he said.
Don't you get sick of Chopin? I asked.
I love it! he said.
An oddball, I told myself.
But a serious oddball.

There was one time when an art student
Wanted to come in and play.
But the pianist said, it's prudent
To practice at least three hours a day.
And since I haven't done so yet, would you kindly go away.
No matter how much he'd insist,
This other guy still begged to come.
So he asked his fellow pianist
To voice agreement. I said, ummmm....

Three hours? Blecch. I practiced less
Than half an hour in a week.
I preferred an improv'd mess,
Which every day would be unique.
I played my lessons poorly,
I had terrible technique.
But three full hours? Surely
Such a process would be bleak.

Sometimes I'd play for people and they all would stare and blink-
And they asked me how I got such skill and I would say, I think
It's been something like four years now, but you ought to know I stink.
A genius! they said.

No, no, I told them. A pretender, see?
They didn't see.
See, I just press some notes randomly!
They didn't see.
It's only force of habit! I insisted angrily.
They didn't see.
I can't play Beethoven correctly!
My left hand plays imperfectly!
We don't understand all that stuff like you do, they said.
But I don't understand a thing, I said!
I don't have a clue what I'm doing, I said!
What we do know, they said, is

That if we tried with all our might,
Not stopping 'til we got it right,
And played all day and then all night,
We know one thing is true:
That if we did all this we still
Could never play like you.

I was shocked.
I was shocked at their sheer stupidity.
How could they make such a ridiculous mistake? I asked myself.
As hard as it may be to believe, I answered,
These people understand music even less than I do.

Then Dvir closed down. I didn't care-
I hadn't really planned on staying.
I tried out at the Academy, where
They asked to hear my piano playing.
I played my piece and tried my hardest,
Knowing they'd see I was a fake.
They accepted me regardless,
Which was, clearly, a mistake.


My playing was extremely crude,
As they all were willing to tell.
So they got me a new teacher who'd
Teach me how to play this stuff well.
In the halls the lovely sounds
From every room gave me a scare.
Out of all the kids around,
I was just the worst one there!

I listened to the music more with envy than with awe-
How could I compare to dedication of the likes I saw?
They were perfect, and each note that I played would be called a flaw...
What was I doing there?

I was silent.

One guy, one year older than me,
Was more friendly than the rest.
I'd sit by the piano when he
Played, 'cause he could play the best.
The teachers saw him not as such,
But rather as a pest.
They said he didn't practice much.
That must have been a jest!

In my lessons, I was taught
How to play with greater skill.
Piano was deeper then I thought.
(I didn't ever practice still.)
Meanwhile, I improvised duets
And played for fun for hours each day.
For two years, without any frets
I steadily improved my play.

In the bagrut I played some Mozart almost perfectly.
So I said to my teacher, that was okay, but surely you'd agree
That I didn't play it half as well as it was meant to be?
No, that's pretty much it, she said.

What do you mean, that's it?
You played it well, she said.
But a good player would have played it much better, right?
No, you played it well, she said.
But my technique is terrible!
No, you played it well, she said.
But you said I had a lot of catching up to do! I insisted.
Not anymore, she said.
You played it well.
But...
But I don't understand a thing about music! I said.
You played it well, she said.
And I had nothing more to say.

I never got a chance to show
My class a single melody.
Never will I get to know
What they would have thought of me.
Since then I've had no teacher.
No notes.
I'm free.


I play piano often now-
Doesn't matter what or how.
I just sit down at the keys
And play exactly as I please-
It's just for fun, y'know?
Don't matter if it's new or old,
Don't matter if it's trash or gold,
Don't matter if there's anyone to show.
I don't care about the players above me.
I just play, and one day I realized:
It sounds lovely.

But so what?, I asked myself.
I'm better than I ever was
And I still don't understand anything!

But then- who does?


I think back to the time I spent
In seventh grade at Dvir-
How every time he played, I went
To any surface near,
And there in silent calm I sat
To listen and to peer.
I never could have played like that-
..and yet, somehow, I'm here.

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

The first pianist in this story was five years older than me, the second three years older, and the third one one year. At least, I think so. Even though I spent a reasonable amount of time with each one, I don't think I have more than the vaguest of conceptions of who these people really are. So factual inaccuracies are pretty likely. For that I apologize.

By the way, this post took me over five weeks to write. So don't expect another poem any time soon. :P

Blogger Bet Shemesh Board Gaming Club said:

That was fantastic.

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Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Let's Go To The Movies!

Previously on IMX:
My family
I don't get to see many movies. The genres I am limited to are sci-fi/superhero blockbuster and Pixar animation. There are two major Israeli theater chains: Rav Chen and G.G. Gil. The former is good; the latter is so bad (with horrendous audio and tiny screens) that I much prefer to watch on my computer. At home, I get to see movies when someone from the family is kind enough to buy me a DVD (as my grandparents, who are visiting now, got me 2001: A Space Odyssey). If I see there is no chance in the Real World I am ever going to see a movie fairly, and I haven't had all the enthusiasm for seeing it sucked out of me, I download it illegally off the internet. This is how I get to see movies when I do (and I don't often).

I loved the first two X-Men movies. I got to see them because they are superhero movies- otherwise I never would have. I knew that the third, X-Men: The Last Stand, had a different director and different writers. I saw the trailers and thought they looked ridiculous. I learned that the premise of the movie was a mish-mash of various completely unrelated ideas from the comics. And I heard that it was fun to watch. I wasn't all that interested; I'd see it, someday, downloaded off the internet, if I hadn't forgotten about it by then.

Dena wanted to go see X-Men: The Last Stand. I had heard that it was fun to watch. It's showing at Rav Chen. I agreed to go with her. She wanted to go on Tuesday, which is to say tomorrow. I figured I was always free, so it was as good a day as any. On Sunday, the two of us rewatched X-Men, and today we watched X2. When you see movies as rarely as I do, seeing a movie -any movie- becomes an event worthy of such build-up. The two films were, as is the case with most really good works, better than I had remembered. (You only remember the bigger picture.) I was genuinely excited to be going.

Rav Chen is a good theater. It is also very inaccessible to us. It is in Jerusalem, which means we would need to take a bus to Jerusalem which takes an hour, give or take a little. (There is no one who might drive us.) Once in Jerusalem, it takes another half hour to get (by a second bus) to the theater, give or take a little. Dena gets out of her school (as on all days) pretty late. We would have just an hour and a half from leaving the house to the time the movie starts.

This is when my mother intervened.

Did you have your heart set on seeing it tomorrow?
Dena, you may not get out of school earlier- What am I supposed to write on the note, "Let her out to see X-Men"?
But it's such nonsense!
It's not the note that's the problem!
It's all such nonsense!
You could watch it another day!
Would you die if you didn't see this movie?
It's impossible to get there in time!
You're going to take my money to watch this?
And what are you doing for supper? I'm not paying for-
If your spoiled brat of a brother didn't need to-
If your spoiled brat of a brother-
There's no way you can get there in time. No way.
Thirty seconds late? That's not worst case scenario, that's best case-
More like a half hour late, you mean-
What are you talking about? It's a thriller- you won't keep watching if you miss-
I am not going to pay for you to go to this movie twice just because-
YES, YOU ARE GOING TO WANT TO GO TO THIS TWICE BECAUSE YOU'LL MISS THE FIRST HALF HOUR AND-
What are you talking about-
That's funny- you'd watch the movie like that?-
And why am I supposed to pay for this nonsense?-
-pay for this nonsense-
-this nonsense-
It's all such nonsense!
I am not trying to stop you from going- I'm just thinking of all scenarios so that you won't be disappointed-
I don't know how else you could go- In theory, Grandma & Grandpa could drive you- BUT THERE'S NO WAY TO KNOW BECAUSE THEIR CELL PHONE IS OFF AND THEY NEVER LET ME KNOW ANYTHING SO THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NO WAY TO KNOW AND WOULD IT KILL YOU TO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE?
No, you may not see a later showing! No way.
And do you know which bus you're supposed to be taking??
And do you know which bus stop to take?
No you don't, you don't know which bus stop to take-
And how do you know you'll get there in time-
And what do you think you're going to be doing for supper
-spoiled brat of a brother-
I don't have a car-
FINE! I'LL GIVE YOU A LITTLE MONEY AND THAT'S IT! I'M NOT PAYING FOR FOOD AND IF YOU MISS THE FIRST HOUR THAT'S OKAY AND IT'S ALL SUCH NONSENSE!







Why should I have to fight my mother to get to see a movie? It's just a movie- is that so much to ask for? And it's not really worth it...



I keep telling myself that nothing has changed. We are still set to go tomorrow, my mother is still (however reluctantly) going to pay for it (I have no money to spare of my own.), it should still be a fun movie. But everything has changed. It's turned from a fun event into a guilt-ridden nightmare. I can't just enjoy the movie now- I have to spend the entire time watching thinking of how to spin the fact that it's not the greatest movie ever made so that I can pretend it was worth the fight. Because when you're not that enthusiastic to begin with, and you have to fight to get there, it's never worth it.






I don't get to see many movies.


3 Comments:

 Mory said:

It's 12, and Dena is already home. Looks like all will be well.

Tamir said:

I hope you enjoyed the movie. ^_^

 Mory said:

Well, since you ask:

It was excellent. Not much like the first two at all, but excellent in its own way.

The first two were provocative sci-fi. They were sophisticated and nuanced. They had very tight plotting. They had one foot in reality.

X-Men: The Last Stand is none of these things. Its metaphors are watered-down recitations of the more powerful ideas in the comics, thrown in to keep you entertained and then quickly pulled away as soon as they've registered so they shouldn't bore anyone. Its morality is muddled, with a villain easier to agree with than the heroes and an ending which doesn't really resolve any issues. It is packed with one-liners and fun action. The plot isn't terribly coherent, is full of holes, uses a "everything-but-the-kitchen-sink" mentality to decide what goes in, and feels completely unresolved at the end. And all this is done in an over-the-top style with one foot in the 60's comics.

And I loved it. It never fails to be spectacularly entertaining. When it was tense, I was squirming in my seat. During action scenes, you couldn't have peeled my eyes off the screen with claws. The climax was breathtaking. Taken as an action movie, WOW!

If I were more of an X-Men (comic) fan, I'd probably be furious at how much they've messed up the series by the end. But I'm not, so I'm not. After the credits was a cliffhanger of sorts for the next movie. I look forward to it.


Taken as an event, this was a good day. First the two of us went with our grandparents to the restaurant (and I use the term loosely) Village Green. The food was good, but very bland, and I'll know better next time. Then we rushed to the theater. I don't know what Dena thinks of the movie, because she refuses to say. I hate it when people do that!

Unfortunately, we didn't have enough money. Dena had three sheqels too few to get us back to Beit Shemesh. So our grandparents drove us back home, in what was an overly long trip because of one lousy wrong turn and the "no U-turn" signs. I'm glad I'm not a driver.

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Friday, May 26, 2006

God Bless Google

In the past few days, I noticed something very odd. See, I use StatCounter to watch the people who come onto my blog. On Monday the statistics suddenly cut off. No one, I saw, had been to my blog since updating the template to allow for 74s with comments. This was especially bewildering when I started getting notifications of comments- how could there be comments if no one had visited? I just figured it out now. Yep, it's every computer user's favorite scenario- at 2:30 in the morning, I realized that the entire second half of my blog's code was missing. The sidebars were gone. Blogger, understandably, has no recovery feature when it comes to templates. And it took me many hours to get that just right, so you'd better believe I was in full-on panic mode. (The reason I'd lost the statistics is that the statistics-collecting script was at the very end of the page.)

I hurriedly wrote up a "For Now", just in case anyone popped up in the 12 hours or so it might take to completely rewrite the second half of my template. Now, I've been using a program called Google Desktop for a while now. Its main feature is giving instantaneous search of everything on your hard drive, which I've found is much more convenient than using the start menu. It also has all sorts of other features I now can't do without, but I digress. Anyway, it searches everything- files, e-mails, shortcuts, and all the web pages you've been to. In order to do this, it archives everything. The second thing I did on discovering the damage to my blog was search Google Desktop for "Edit Template". To my astonishment and extreme gratitude (which you can probably guess based on the way I sound like a walking advertisement for Google right now), it had saved every version of the template, going back to October. And what really took me aback was that it didn't just save the format of the page, but saved the important part- the part written into the form. I wouldn't have expected the archive to be so thorough.

But it is, and the blog is saved, and I am saved, and I am filled with gratitude to the good programmers at Google. Now all we need is an operating system from them, and the world will be a happier place.

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The continuation refuses to present itself- What am I to do?

2 Comments:

Tamir said:

Patience is a virtue; art should not be forced.

 Mory said:

Yeah, I guess you're right. Too bad I have no patience.

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Sunday, May 07, 2006

7.00

Ariel was very busy building his new house.

On Sunday, he drew the blueprints.
On Monday, he set the foundation.
On Tuesday, he laid the bricks.
On Wednesday, he added doors and a roof.
On Thursday, he painted the walls.
On Friday, he installed furniture.

And he was tired. But the house did not yet exist for its own sake. He needed to live in it for a day. He wanted to sit back in his living room, sip some lemonade, and admire his work.

On Saturday, he was about to do just that when a man wearing black appeared.

"A lawbreaker!", cried he, "O, how it pains me to see such disregard for my master's wishes!"
Ariel did not understand.
"I serve the owner of this land.", the strange man explained. "Do you see that sign?" (and he pointed to a small sign near their feet which Ariel had never seen before.)

And this is what the sign said:
Thou shalt not enter thy house
nor sip lemonade on the seventh day.

It was clear enough. There were no loopholes to be found, no exceptions to be made. But Ariel did not understand. "Why?", asked he.
"Once upon a time, you built a house. Though that building no longer stands, it must still be taken into account." Ariel did not understand.
"When you built that house, you entered it. This was a necessary part of the building process, yes?" Ariel supposed so.
"And when you built that house, it so happened to be a hot day. You refreshed yourself with a glass of lemonade, did you not?" Ariel supposed so.
"Well, there you have it, then."

Ariel did not understand. It did not seem like he had much of anything anymore. His remaining books were inside. His comfortable furniture was inside. His achievements were inside. But there was no use arguing- the master of the land had spoken. What was he to do today?, he inquired.
The man in black smiled reassuringly. "The master of this land allows us many pleasures on the seventh day. If you would like, I will stay here and permit you to talk to me." Ariel could accept this no longer. "Why in the name of Nonazangian nonoccurence would I want to talk to you?", he yelled. "I want my books! I want my rooms! I want my furniture! I want my glass of lemonade!"

The man looked down at the unenlightened soul before him with sympathy. He opened his mouth to helpfully suggest scrubbing the master's feet, but Ariel was already walking away uffishly.

Ariel walked on. He passed rocks. And then he passed more rocks. Each rock was grayer than the next. Finally, he passed some rocks. There was nothing to see, nothing to do.

He walked all the way to the edge of the land, where the rock gave way to sea. (He dared not go further, for he could not swim.) Many men were standing by the edge, all wearing black. They were yelling at a man in a nearby boat.
A coalition for the public's right to rest and relaxation emerged Wednesday, as MKs from across the political spectrum announced their intention to pass a bill making Shabbat a legal day of leisure. The legislative initiative presented to the Knesset, however, lacks the support of religious parties.

The bill, called the Culture and Recreation Day Law, would crack down on commercial activity on Shabbat while permitting more cultural and recreational activities and a limited schedule of public transportation The bill was proposed by MKs Natan Sharansky (Likud), Shelly Yacimovich (Labor), Michael Eitan (Likud), Michael Melchior (Labor), Arye Eldad (NU-NRP), and Dov Kheinin (Hadash).

"More and more people are forced to work seven days a week, 365 days a year," said Sharansky. "We want to strike a unifying compromise between secular and religious that would allow Shabbat to retain its special character as a day of rest. At the same time, we want to allow the non-religious limited access to transportation and places of entertainment."

A Shas spokesman said his party was likely to oppose the initiative, as it would encourage more desecration of Shabbat.

United Torah Judaism MK Meir Porush also attacked the initiative. "Shabbat is a holy day with obligations and commandments," he said, "not just a day with cultural, socioeconomic and national-historical meaning... Shabbat is God's everlasting covenant with the Jewish people. The bill distorts both the content and the soul of the Jewish day of rest."
It was a houseboat which he had built with his own two hands, and he was living in it. He was sitting back comfortably, reading a book and sipping lemonade. Now this, Ariel thought, was how a Saturday ought to be spent. The boater's girlfriend walked into view; he had taken her along to show off the boat which had been so frustrating to build. Why were these people shouting?, Ariel wondered. He is not in our territory, and he understands what homes are made for. Should we not let him be? Ariel headed back to the direction of his house.

Now, it was still not even noon, and Ariel was beginning to worry that he'd be condemned to walk through rocks for the rest of the day. But then he saw an old man sitting outside his house making a pile of rocks. The man had a long, white beard, and when I say "long" I mean that it was twice as long as his height. Ariel was curious. "There is a secret to passing the time.", the old man whispered.
On Shabbat, I now do jigsaw puzzles. They keep me busy.
"I will share it with you, and perhaps you will bring it to good use. See, you take a rock like so-", and as he said this he picked up a rock as gray as any other, "and then (and this is the crucial part) you put it in a pile while focusing your entire mind on its shape. It's the strangest thing, but after just a few rocks, you will get so involved in this activity that it will sustain you for the rest of the day!"

Ariel walked back to his house and started making a pile of rocks. It wasn't very entertaining, but it kept him so busy that the end of the day actually came. By this time he had a very large pile. He looked at his work, expecting to be proud of his accomplishment. Curiously, he wasn't. He felt... empty.



Reality

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Wednesday, May 03, 2006

A Typical Story

Last night my father told me I'd be going to shul this morning. It's a special davening, he said. How is it special, I asked. It's a special davening, he said, there's hallel. But how is it special, I asked. It's a special davening for Yom Ha'atzmaut, he said, there's hallel. But how is it special, I asked. There are some tehillim we say, he said. It's a special davening, he said. It's at 8:15, he said. The special breakfast is at 9:15, my mother said. We'll wake you up at 8.

This morning at 8:15, my mother woke me up. She said my father had woken me up fifteen minutes earlier; I didn't remember that. I got up. My parents left. I got dressed. I drank some Nestea. I started walking to shul.

It's been really hot out lately. It's only going to get worse, you know. I kept my head down as I walked so the light wouldn't hurt my eyes. I got to shul and went upstairs. I saw people coming in carrying their tefillin. I'd forgotten my tefillin. I started to walk home. I wasn't going to come back. It was really hot out. When I got home, I read a comic book 'til 9:15 then headed back.

The room was filled with tables, but no one was there yet- they were still davening. I sat down in a corner. People started coming in. When my father got there, I knew, he'd be angry. I waited for my father to show up. He came in, and started laying on the guilt. The breakfast is not the ikar, he said. I'll give you my tefillin and you can go upstairs and daven, he said. No, I said. (I had no excuse, but then he never had any good reason for me to come to begin with.) Then you can go home, he said. Breakfast is at home, he said. I stayed.

Everyone sat down. We found a table. I looked at the food. I went home.

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Hollow Depth.

I was wondering this morning what an RPG would be like if every non-player character had a story, a personality, etc. If you could stop and just observe, seeing a fictional way of life as vivid as any in reality. If it felt like these characters were living their own lives, whether or not you know anything about it. Very few people would actually listen to all their stories; very few people would care to. I wouldn't. But it would add so much depth to the experience, don't you think?











There was a kitten in our back yard yesterday. We didn't know how it had gotten there, but there it was, crying. It seemed healthy enough; we gave it food and drink. I didn't pay much attention to it. I don't know anything about it- I don't even know if it was male or female. I don't know what went wrong. This afternoon, it died.











I don't know anything about Gary Pollevoy- I don't even remember her face. My mother just got a call- She died.











...











1 Comment:

Tamir said:

I don't think people would like that kind of depth in an RPG. People like to feel that they are important, that the world revolves around them. They forget that there are billions of people surrounding them, and they live for themselves.

We could do with more caring, with more interest in the rest of the world - but it isn't really expected of us. We're here to live our own lives, not anyone else's.

Sometimes we try to care. We pay attention to everyone and momentarily forget about ourselves. But we cannot take much of that. It is in our nature to ignore things which have no interest or relevance to ourselves.

And thus we continue to lead our selfish lives. It's who we are.

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The first day is frustrating, yes, but the seventh is satisfying.


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Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Outside the Comfort Zone

I like to say that the most underappreciated art form is food. The purpose of any food, as far as most people are concerned, is to taste good. But didn't we get past that stage around the advent of romanticism? Heck, go even beyond that- all the way back to the introduction of baroque cadences in music. (It probably goes back further, but hey, I'm not a historian.) You always need to have the height of tension right before resolving it into the "tonic" chord. You do that by slipping in a chord with some dissonant notes and an uncomfortable interval. It wasn't until centuries later that the obsession with dissonance as a fashion statement began, but even back then we've got composers recognizing that uncomfortable sounds can be used in the service of beauty rather than simply eliminated. The public gradually adjusted to the idea that music wasn't going to bend to make them feel more comfortable, but they'd have to bend to appreciate the music.

And where were the chefs through all these centuries of progress? Apparently, they slept through it. The public doesn't put any effort into appreciating food; the food exists only to make them happy. If a chef wants to flex his creative muscles a bit, the best he can do is improve the presentation of the food- If it looks fancy, maybe no one will notice that its taste is not. Any evolution in the primary content (taste) is prohibited, so most efforts at innovation go into supportive content instead. This is not healthy for any Form. Where are the meals with small unappetizing courses to prepare the taste in your mouth for the next main course? Where are the dishes which taste different on opposite sides? Where are the expressive foods?

So I say with righteous indignation whenever the topic of discussion gets near. On a theoretical level, I love this argument. It leads to all sorts of fun possibilities. On a practical level, I'll have nothing to do with it. By which I mean, if you were to hand me the culinary equivalent of Beethoven's ninth symphony, I would refuse to allow it anywhere near my mouth. To say that I am a picky eater is putting it rather mildly. If fruits, who I am certain do not like to be eaten, saw my eating habits, they would frown.* (If you would object to this statement, consider that fruits have no eyes.) My diet consists almost exclusively of lasagna, bagels, Pringles and ice cream. Why am I willing to overlook such hypocrisy? Because food is just food. I don't care about it enough to accept anything outside my tiny comfort area.



Last week my parents bought me two CDs: Variations by Steve Reich, and Alina by Arvo Pärt. They had promised to buy me CDs by those composers for Channukah. I'd requested their music specifically because I'd heard one piece written by each (Proverb and Tabula Rasa, respectively), and loved their harmonies. Nonetheless, I didn't really know what these CDs would be like; I sat down and started listening.


Variations' first piece, Variations for Winds, Strings, and Keyboards, started with a bit of a shock- it took all of six seconds to get both dissonant and chaotic. It was frantic right from the very beginning, and added in more voices before I could figure out what was going on. And just as I was getting comfortable with the disorientation, and eager for more abrupt developments, I learned a thing or two about Steve Reich's style. I tell you, all that repetition is not enjoyable for a person who has just gotten used to the idea of breakneck pacing. The effect is instant boredom. Thankfully this didn't last long, as the melody (if there is such a thing in a Steve Reich piece) started taking on Chinese characteristics. I don't like Chinese music very much, but I kept listening.

By a minute in, I'd gotten the hang of it enough to enjoy some absolutely gorgeous harmonic twists in the bass. Each time he stuck in an interesting bass he'd linger on it, as though trying to get as much out of its sound as possible. After a while, though, it began to frustrate me that he wouldn't continue moving harmonically, when clearly (I saw as an amateur composer) there was some amazing potential there, if only he would have continued that sentence there, or added in this here.... It was not what I wanted, and that is frustrating. I quickly put myself back in my place, and started enjoying it again.

It occured to me that Steve Reich's minimalist style is perfectly suited to an interactive soundtrack. In fact, I've been wondering for a long time how soundtracks could react to a player's movement and actions. So it was very satisfying (on a theoretical level) to have the answer practically handed to me. The key is repetition with multiple voices. One voice repeats itself for as long as you stay in one small node, while the voices around it cycle endlessly. When you move to a new node, another voice (which one depends on where you're moving to) stays in place while the others, including the one which had been staying, cycle around it. This would need very complex scripting; I'm not sure if any composers are on the level to do something like this. Regardless, this is a very bright future.

After a while (ten minutes or so), the repetition really got to me. This technique was meant for background scores, not to be listened to on its own. I started regretting not asking for a specific CD by Steve Reich, which was closer to what I was familiar with. This just stayed in one place for two long; I wanted something that would remind me of the chaos of my own compositions, though more skilled. It was going on for too long to be a standalone piece, but I kept listening through the entire 21 minutes. It was worth sitting through; many more harmonic curiosities appeared briefly. And then it ended, as abruptly as it had begun, the false hopes it had inspired in me leaving behind a vague dissatisfaction.

The second piece, Music for Mallet Instruments, Voices and Organ, was just annoying. The changes from repetition to repetition were too small, too insubstantial. The frustration led to the aforementioned idea concerning interactive soundtracks to bounce around my head another five times or so. And then the music starting giving me a headache. This was not what I had expected.

It seemed good for background music, and good for theoretical purposes. But it didn't seem to be too good for just listening to. I more or less understood what it was doing; I saw why it didn't matter, shouldn't matter that I wasn't being more engaged. But it did matter to me.

Around four minutes in, it made a neat leap, but then it slowly went back to boredom. It was a lot like Electroplankton, really, but it needed that personal involvement. There was another leap nine minutes in. Around this time, my unfortunately nearby family members started complaining loudly, so I skipped to the third and final track.

Six Pianos, played on six of the tinniest pianos I'd ever heard, instantly reminded me of ragtime music. The liveliness, the repetitive rhythm, the way it grated on my ears. The incremental changes were barely perceptible, and it took all of two minutes for me to decide I didn't like it. It may have been fascinating to play, and it's probably fascinating to analyze. But I just didn't care. I stopped listening, very disappointed.


I would compare my music to white light which contains all colours. Only a prism can divide the colours and make them appear; this prism could be the spirit of the listener.
Arvo Pärt
Imagine you're in an empty room, and a white light is shining in. The white light is pretty. Now imagine staring at this light for fifty-one minutes and twenty-four seconds. You know what, just to be more fair, let's say you've also got a prism to play around with. Sound like fun?

I started getting worried when I read the track list:
Spiegel im Spiegel
Vladimir Spivakov, violin
Sergej Bezrodny, piano
10:36
Für Alina
Alexander Malter, piano
10:47
Spiegel im Spiegel
Dietmar Schwalke, violoncello
Alexande Malter, piano
9:12
Für Alina
Alexander Malter, piano
10:53
Spiegel im Spiegel
Vladimir Spivakov, violin
Sergej Bezrodny, piano
9:48

Arvo Pärt's Alina is music serving the purpose of a sleeping pill. Almost nothing happened over the course of the entire disc. No surprises, no sudden inspirations, no memorable melodies, no excitement. Just two of the simplest tunes you can imagine, repeated until you either have a philosophical revelation or start snoring. (More likely the latter.)

It was pretty, to be sure. Oh yes, it was pretty- I don't think I've heard more elegant music in my life. It has a purity to it I'm not familiar with. And the presentation was incredible. This is the sort of music which demands a silent reverence, demands that all distractions be eliminated, demands your full attention, demands that you make an effort to appreciate it. Well, I tried to show it the proper respect, and turned my monitor off, and sat straight and listened. And I didn't get much out of that.

I found the format of the CD very appealing on the higher levels of the brain - I love symmetry, I love thinking about symmetry. In practice... I don't care about symmetry as I'm listening. I don't care about the slight differences in nuance. I don't get so involved in music that I might notice the differeces. I didn't notice the differences. So what I had was two very lovely, if dragged out, pieces, and three exact repetitions. (I really couldn't tell the difference between the performances.) When each repetition is ten minutes long, that's a problem.

..for me, I mean. Right. [frowns thoughtfully]

I stopped listening, full of frustration. I let it out on a piano improvisation which represented what I had wanted to hear. That improvisation was one of the finest I have ever played. (It was lost to the great oblivion to which all good things go.) And I was content.



I have since listened to both CDs, in their entireties, more times. Variations has really grown on me. I mean, I still don't like Six Pianos -I'm not really into percussion- but I've really come to like the first two, now that I know what to expect. Maybe there is hope for me after all.

As for Alina, the two sides of my brain are in disagreement over what to make of it. I am inclined to believe that it is a masterpiece, but I am not capable of appreciating it. I cannot blame Pärt for my own inadequacies, and this is a very good decision for my own sake since I would have to throw out V.O.V. if I had concluded otherwise. Nonetheless, future pieces should try to appeal... Well, not to the lowest common denominator, but at least to anyone who puts in the effort it deserves.

7 Comments:

Blogger ~Daniella said:

Now I'm really curious to hear it, after you've pulled it all apart, and try to see it from my perspective. I know our tastes are a different; I'm much more into traditional chords, you know, the classical and romantic periods. Give me a Beethoven to resolve an augmented chord any day. And needless to say our dear David Lanz uses very simple chords and chord progressions, usually with a very similar accompaniment, too. But I like to say that the most beautiful things in life are sometimes the most simple.

Most New Age music bores me to death, though. There are a few artists who manage to keep my attention--David Arkenstone sometimes, Tim Janis sometimes, Ken Elkinson sometimes. Maybe I look for a certain pattern of chords to twist my feelings in a certain (new?) way.

Anyway. I wonder how well you'd do at writing and performing scores for movies--analyzing the changing emotions within through music. Have you ever tried putting a story into music? Or writing a tune to lyrics? Sometimes the translation from a different medium is nearly impossible, since it's so well expressed in one particular kind. Of all media, I find music easiest to understand and convey a message.

And I'm just blabbering now.

~D

 Mory said:

If you like simplicity you would certainly like Alina- it doesn't get any simpler. I can virtually guarantee that none of this analysis will apply to you, since it's not really the music I'm analyzing so much as myself when I first listened to it.

I've tried to write music with less abstract meanings - and failed. I'm no good with that literal stuff. My compositions progress by train of thought, which doesn't exactly lend itself to that sort of music. I would be interested in videogame scores, however, since they don't require quite as much precision.

Blogger ~Daniella said:

I've written a pieces to lyrics, but in those cases, the music was just a way to enhance the expression of the words, not an expression in itself. Sometimes it did really click and I found myself understanding the song at a different depth once it had a tune, but mostly the tunes simply reflect the lyrics in the simplest possible way.

So I am a writer at heart, and words are my best way to express myself. Sometimes I feel at a disadvantage, because I understand music better than I understand words. Also, words are so limiting. When you put them together into an idea they can soar off on their own, but they still need to follow a basic structure even in the vaguest poetry or prose.

I wonder how my life would be different if I had your gift. Perhaps I wouldn't really speak at all, never really learn to use words to my advantage, because I'd have a highly superior way of expressing what I feel--the piano.

Maybe I should be grateful, then. Words seem to be the more socially accepted manner of communicating.

Interesting how God chooses to invest His gifts.

~D

 Mory said:

Yes, it is- I've actually dealt with that issue somewhat. However, I think God has given you more than you realize. I don't see why you see piano as "superior" to text- it's really not. If you doubt the potency of the written word, I refer you to my two greatest achievements on this blog: the mundane and The Imaginary! and I'm not.. They are at least as beautiful as, and certainly more sophisticated than any music I have ever composed. If you feel prose is limiting, then just break the rules a little. Isn't that what rules are for?

The reason I don't put music to lyrics is that in general I don't like the combination of music and lyrics. I like the purity you get from either one on its own, but when you throw them together each one cheapens the other. The one time I did find music for lyrics was when I was writing the poem in the "About Me" tab. I'm not much of a poet, and I found that by translating it into very dynamic music I could get a better feel for the rhythm. It sounds vaguely repulsive that way, though, so I do not plan to ever share the tune.

Blogger ~Daniella said:

I understand what you mean about the purity of each, but sometimes I feel that words are almost musical, having a rhythm of their own. And sometimes the music will give the words meaning they didn't have before. This is, of course, provided that the words had meaning in the first place, which is not true of a large majority of popular music out there.

And I'm certainly grateful for everything God has given me. He has given me a taste of many worlds. I don't wish for anything more than that. I just wonder, though, how I would be different... which would help me understand why He chose to give me what He gave me.

I love that music is always with me, and that through the tapping of a rhythm, the clanging of bells, or the rustling of leaves I can hear music. I love that I can sometimes find words to describe an action or a feeling hard to define. I love that I can reproduce a sound in my own throat, harmonize naturally, and make music without requiring a single instrument. I love that I can see others' emotions, take them into my own soul, churn them around and express them through my own face, my own motions, or my own words. He has given me so much, a unique perception and ability of execution... sometimes I wonder what I will have to do in my life that will require all of these skills.

I tried to read your links, but for some reason they're not working. Maybe I'll try again on a different computer.

~D

 Mory said:

Forget the links- all the posts are on the main page! I see you're using IE; I think you get the "find" feature in IE with Ctrl-F, no? So just use that to find the titles. Oh, and if you're confused by "I'm not.", it might make more sense if you read the first post (at the bottom of the page) too. But you don't have to.

Blogger ~Daniella said:

I actually did read your first post most dutifully when I first viewed your blog, and began reading from bottom up but didn't make it too far.

My blog involves a lot more aimless blabber about my life, but in between I do post bits and pieces of writing. You seem like the sort of person who would either really hate modern poetry or really like it. Here's some of mine: http://sunflower-sky.livejournal.com/20265.html, http://sunflower-sky.livejournal.com/18922.html, and http://sunflower-sky.livejournal.com/66575.html (you'll have to log in to LJ to see then, as they're friends-locked). I have a particular fondess of brushing and bouncing off rules, like flowing in and out of rhyme (like in the first one).

~D

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Monday, April 17, 2006

Stories from the Seder Table

We went to the Zigelmans for the seder. They were also having the Pollevoy family and Ilana Zigelman's parents. It was a crowded noisy room. Ari Zigelman read most of the hagaddah himself. This is different from our approach. We didn't comment much. It was a boring crowded noisy room.
I sat and waited for it to end for much time. You might say that it was an uneventful seder. But every event is unique in some way. What made this seder night different from all the others?



Why is it that there are no simple, plain, nice hardcover haggadahs sold? Without commentary (which won't be read as the Seder moves along) taking up three quarters of the page, or an English translation taking up half the page, or irrelevant photos taking up a quarter of the page. Not some free little "Maxwell House" haggadah which looks like it may fall apart any moment, but a good, sturdy, nicely produced haggadah. I asked this question many times before we left. We have no such copy. I used the Temple Haggadah, whose commentary was written by my old Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Yisrael Ariel. It looked like the closest thing to what I was looking for.

The Temple Haggadah is a big, sturdy, hardcover book. It is also fairly heavy. The two tables were stuffed with dishes, so I had to hold it in my lap. Being uncomfortable is a Pesach tradition, including the time-honored sub-tradition of reclining on the left side. I think discomfort is supposed to be a symbol of freedom. Another symbol of freedom is having someone pour you four glasses of wine. Now, picture a guy like me, who hates both the flavor of alcohol and the flavor of grapes. Does having someone else force this stuff down my throat sound like freedom?
Pondering this question, I stood with everyone else to bless the wine. (I could have used some blessing myself- something like "Please, God, in your great mercy could you possibly make my taste buds stop working for a minute?".) Anyway, while blessing the wine (or grape juice in my case, which isn't quite as dreadful), you're supposed to raise the cup. And so I did with my right hand, while also trying to hold up my hagaddah in my left hand. When my hand starting hurting, I tried shifting the book onto the plate, and spilled half the grape juice on the book and the floor. I cleaned it all up; my father looked at the book and said: "I'm very disappointed in you." I drank the juice in one gulp, to get it over with. It was vile. I tell you, I know what freedom tastes like, and that ain't it.

Every year, my father hides the Afikoman matza. And we try to find it. He finds all the best places in our house. I can never find it, so I give up early on and one of the girls gets it. Then they're given some reward for finding it, like money or a CD or something like that. There's a counter-tradition in our family, where all of us try to watch my father at every moment of the seder, to make sure he's not sneaking off with the Afikoman. But every year, he finds some moment where we're not alert enough, and before we know it it's hidden. Well, this time, I watched. As we got up to watch in the middle of the seder, I sat behind, looking innocently at my father. And he remained seated, the Afikoman on the table next to him. And I remained seated. "Well, go wash.", he said with a smile. "After you.", I replied. He got up. But I was afraid he'd wash before me, and get back with time to hide it while I was busy washing, so I tried to outsmart him. I rushed ahead to wash first, all the while looking backwards to make sure he wasn't getting too close to the Afikoman. I had him this time. I washed, came back to the table, and the Afikoman had disappeared. Apparently, he'd told my mother to hide it for him (in a specific place he'd picked out), since no one was watching her. The cheat. "Next year," I told myself, "I'll just have to change the rules. I'll make sure that someone, be it myself or one of the girls, is watching the Afikoman at all times. We'd cover for each other. Then he'd lose. Ha!"
But this year, I'd lost. But maybe... Well, if my mother had hidden it it couldn't be too hard a hiding place. And they don't know this house too well - that'll certainly work against them. Hmmm.... I noticed a little slit in the top of a box of soda bottles next to the door to the kitchen... Nah, too easy. And that was that. I had to wait before looking for it, of course. So I waited. Right before the meal, after my father had gone back home to get something-or-other, it looked like my cue. I reached into the box, and sure enough there it was! I was so excited that I (foolishly) announced that I'd found it. The girls started shrieking: "Too soon! You weren't supposed to look yet! This doesn't count!". And so the argument started. The little Zigelman girl saw an opportunity for mischief and tried to grab it. "No, it's mine! Mine!", I cried. And I jumped out of the way 'til she gave up. I sat down on the couch, considering that I should have hidden it again as soon as I found it- that way, they'd look in the place my parents had put it and be so surprised! Heh, that would be cool. But whatever- I'd won. I knew I wouldn't get any presents -why would I, when my parents wouldn't even give me a present for my birthday?- but it was the principle of the thing. For once, I'd won.
Everyone else soon lost interest. "You should hide it.", Mickey Pollevoy said quietly. And why not?, I thought. They weren't paying attention anymore. "Just put it under the couch!", he advised. It was an obvious hiding place, sure. But it seemed like a good enough idea. And so I did. I went back to my seat, and told the girls I'd hidden it. Our parents should have to find it, yes, that seems best. And I told them, "It's under that chair.", because they wouldn't be the ones looking for it. "Hey!- Now we can't look for it!" True. It did seem like a good idea a few moments before.
My father came back, and agreed that I had cheated by finding it earlier than they'd expected. Nonetheless, I said, he and my mother would have to find it. My mother wasn't interested, but my father started looking. He looked in all the drawers. He looked under the tablecloth. He took apart the couch to look under the cushions. Everywhere but on the floor under the couch seat I'd been sitting at.
During this time, I'd gotten bored of the whole thing, and started wondering whether there was any point to it to begin with. So I started playing Egyptian War with some young girls. Meanwhile, the hunt continued, and by this point my sisters joined in. This made no sense to me, since I had told them exactly where it was, but there they were searching anyway. And they couldn't find it. I was sick of all of the commotion, so when Ari Zigelman asked, "Where is it?", I said, "It's under that chair!". And so my father and sisters started looking under every chair in the house except for the one I had sat on. I didn't get it. I don't remember how it ended. I don't think it matters too much.

Then there was the meal. There were salads, and other salads, and vegetables. Being a strong antivegitarian, I had nothing to eat there. Then there was turkey. I hate turkey, but what else was there to eat?- I ate some turkey. Instantly I recalled why I'd made a mental note before to never eat turkey- it tasted awful. As I looked distastefully at what was still on my plate, some guest said to my mother, "Wow, this turkey is delicious!". Which only goes to show that some people have no sense of taste. One such person, as I discovered, is Mickey Pollevoy. He started talking about rock music. I said I liked classical musics, and he laughed. He asked if I liked Mozart. "No, the truth is I've never liked Mozart's music much." He laughed. "I don't get it- If I had said I liked Mozart's music you would have laughed. When I say I don't like Mozart, you laugh. Why am I even talking to you?" But what else was there to do?- I kept talking. And it got to the point where Miriam burst in, insisting that no one should ever remember the name of any type of artist, because all art exists only to entertain and who cares who wrote it as long as it entertains? Except she didn't sound as intelligent as that sentence makes her seem. And the two of them laughed at the fact that I don't like rock, and laughed at my opinion that I think there might be something worth listening to in modern music which doesn't make the bestseller lists, and they laughed at my mention of Howard Shore's music as an example of popular modern classical music: "You actually care about the name of the guy who wrote the music for Lord of the Rings?" "Yeah, was there even any music in Lord of the Rings? If there was, it must not have been very good!" By the end of the meal, I was quite certain I was in the wrong place.



I walked home in a bitter mood. But there was one thing I was grateful for: I wouldn't have to drink grape juice for another year! Hooray!

3 Comments:

Blogger Sammy said:

At least its over, no?

And The Lord of the Rings soundtracks are amazing for anyone who is curious...

Tamir said:

I fail to understand how someone could have watched the Lord of the Rings movies and not have enjoyed, or at least noticed, the music. I suppose I should feel bad for them - they're missing out.

I'm sorry you didn't have a good Seder. Better luck next year!

 Mory said:

In his defense, he did seem to be completely tone-deaf.

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Friday, April 14, 2006

Player Requirements

...and that's how I got $5 million dollars!
Wow. Man, that's cool. I wish I-
Could I interrupt?

......

I was just thinking, why is it that every videogame-
Well, why didn't you say so? I happen to be a very successful game developer; I'd be happy to share some of my wisdom, which I picked up working for one of the most successful videogame development companies in America. Why, I was-
There are successful American videogame companies? :)


Videogames are a multibillion dollar industry. Of course there are successful development companies.
Yeah, do you know, like, nothing at all about games, kid?
Never mind.Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I was just wondering why it is that there are practically no videogames that expect anything at all from the player from the start.
Huh?
You're not making any sense. Games usually expect the player to be able to use the controller, and they can be pretty challenging even at the beginning.
No, the fact that you need to know how to use a controller is just by necessity. I mean, how else could the game be controlled? And what was the second thing you said?-
That it's a challenge from the beginning.
That's not what I'm talking about. What I mean is, the player's never expected to already have any real skill, or experience, or knowledge, or even to have read the manual.
Heh, manuals are for losers.
Really?Is it really? Give me an example of a game that's challenging at the beginning.
Okay, so not exactly a challenge challenge, but- you get what I mean. The player's occupied, the player's happy. You can't just skip ahead to the complicated part; you've got to take the difficulty curve into account. You need to remember that we're a mass-market business. What kind of a moron would make a game that alienates half its players?
An artist would. I mean, there's probably a lot of ways to use a less conventional approach for artistic expression. But how would anyone know?- No one's even tried!
Why not? Most pieces of music can't be played by the average person.
What the hell are you talking about?- I listen to lots of music. Have you seen my iPod? I always-
Look, if you can't see the difference between music and a videogame, I can't help you.
But it's not just music- it's anything which can be performed. And even putting that aside, having a challenge right from the beginning is good for replay value. I mean, a difficulty level that changes along with the story is more fun for a good player than a simple difficulty curve.
Okay, I'll explain this in a way simple enough for you to understand. If you want the players to be good before they start, then you can't sell the game to anyone who isn't good. Which means a big part of the market is cut off. Which means less sales. Which means less money. You get it.
I guess that makes some sense from a business perspective.
And who cares about "replay value", anyway? I never finish games.
Of course.
But you're missing the bigger picture. There could be a game with a story which is moving at full speed right from the very beginning. Or you could have a performance platformer which starts with a big-
Wait a minute, back up. Why can't you sell it to bad players? In fact, I'd think it would be easier- New players will see the good players playing, and it's much more impressive watching someone play something which demands professionalism than it is watching-
Cute. And what happens when that new player actually starts to play, huh? I'll tell you what'll happen: he'll get frustrated and he won't buy the sequel.
So what? It'll be a good game, won't it?
I agree that on the lowest levels of the brain it won't be quite as satisfying, but that's more than made up for by the higher levels. Does that make any sense? What I mean is, the actual content of the game, whether it is the story or the player's performance or whatever, could be much better if you don't have a difficulty curve getting in the way.
Listen to me, you can't just ignore the difficulty curve.
Why not? Do composers have to worry about the difficulty curve of playing their compositions? Do dance choreographers need to worry about the difficulty curve of dancing? Do novelists need to worry about the difficulty curve of reading?!
"Why not? Carpenters use wood!" I'll tell you why not. These are videogames we're talking about. And this is the way videogames work. It's as simple as that.
Oh, yeah. Well, that's just not true. Have you ever heard of a game starting with a bang? And I don't mean just a lot of flash, I mean giving a challenge that even decent players who've played before will have fun with.
Yeah, and who'd play it? I sure wouldn't. I mean, I'm just starting to play, I have no idea what I'm doing, and already I get killed? Whoa, that's stupid. Action games are hard enough as it is. I just want easy kills, and then some cool animation when their heads fly off, like, with the blood spurting everywhere, and big explosions, and cool sh** like that.
And all that stuff is in my last bestselling game.
Yeah, man, that was awesome! With those gas tanks all over the place, and I was all like, "WHAM!", and they all went, "KaPSSSHHHH!!" and those zombies all ran around moaning, like, "Oh no, I'm on fire!"! Dude, that was priceless.
Thanks. You know, animating that was really expensive. But it was worth it.





Who would play such a thing?
Oh, it stayed on the bestseller lists for months.
Ah, good times...
Oh, come on. That's not a problem at all- yOh, come on. Y


Ecch. Anyway, you're wrong. There wouldn't really be a problem getting into a game without a difficulty curve- y
Anyway, I don't think it would really be a problem to have no difficulty curve. You could just put in a really long tutorial for new players. A tutorial could actually be really fun, with a good difficulty curve and broken into levels, even though it would be completely outside the game. Like, it would have to make it really clear that it's not part of the story and doesn't even take place in the same game world.
Why would I want to play a tutorial? I buy a game, I want to get right into it. I'm supposed to waste my time learning to play? That's just sick, man.
Uh huh. Look, I don't know how you'll take this, but you're not exactly the sort of person I'd target a game to.
This is why I'm a successful game developer and you're not. You seem to think developers get to make games for themselves. You're wrong. Get over yourself, and you might start to understand how games are supposed to be made. It's for the players. It's all for the players. That's why we always ask our players what they want to see. That's why-
Hey, that reminds me- I just had this brilliant idea a couple minutes ago. See, I was thinking that it would be really cool if you're, like, fighting monsters, and then suddenly these aliens drop down in a flying saucer with this big gun, but they're really slow so you come over and kill them with a grenade and take the gun and it turns out to be this wicked gun that, like shoots this unstoppable energy, and you use it and it goes FWACK!, and you pick off all the monsters. Isn't that an amazing idea?
Oh, it's not my place to say. If you like it, I'll put it in my next game.
Really?
You know I'd do anything for you. All I'd need to change is make it much easier- this sounds too hard.
[sob] I love you, man!
What if the tutorial were as much fun as the real game? Or, actually, it could be even more fun, since there's nothing to it but learning. It just wouldn't be satisfying at all artistically, since it is, after all, just a tutorial. I just think it's good to make it all clear. Pure, you know? You've got the game proper, which the gamist makes as good as possible by ignoring the difficulty curve, and the tutorial, which is old-school gameplay tutoring like Super Mario Bros. or something like that.



What are you talking about again?
It's too confusing. Gamers won't understand having two completely different styles of play. Yeah. And you're talking about two times the work in development, is that what you're saying? Because this is like two separate complete games bundled in one. What exactly is the player getting out of this? So let's cut it back a bit, right? Games are about learning, so let's throw out the whole part where you're not learning. And let's take that tutorial of yours, and make it more interesting, and unless I'm greatly mistaken what we've got is just like the games I make.
And your games are TEH AWESOME!
Who's talking about action games?Anyway, I'm not just talking about difficulty or knowing the game rules.Uh huh. Look, I'm not just talking about knowing the rules of the game. That was an example. There are others. Say you have an adventure game, or some other sort of story-oriented game, where as soon as you're given a character you're told what the parameters of the character are so you can act him/her out correctly. I'm talking about a more general idea: to trust your players to not mess up. And if they do mess up, well, that's their problem, isn't-
You're an idiot. You know why? Because I don't want to be given a hard time, or to be put in a place where I'll mess up, or any sh** like that. I want to have fun. I don't think I'd like any games you made!
..but you know I'm not like that, right? You know all I care about is giving you what you want.. and you know, I'll even make my game easier for you, if it'll make you feel better.
[sob] I love you, man!



...







Many player reqirements are taken for granted simply because there's no getting around them. With digital media, you're expected to know how to operate the equipment it will run on. A novel will not come with an instruction manual explaining that you are supposed to turn the pages and not eat them. (Of course, considering the direction the world seems to be moving in, it wouldn't surprise me to see this change someday.) You are expected to understand the language. And so on. I shouldn't need to point out that these are not hindrances but benefits, but I'll say it anyway: These are not hindrances but benefits.

Okay, technically it's a problem from a marketing perspective. Requiring the reader of a book to understand English does limit the ability of the publisher to sell to people living in non-English-speaking countries. Or to the illiterate. Or to penguins. If you think of just how many non-English-speaking and/or illiterate and/or non-human creatures live on this planet, it's a bit hard to believe that marketers have not yet realized that what they really need to do to sell more books is do away with the usage of language. I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually.

But I think we can and should ignore this hurdle to sales. Not just because sales research ought to be kept far away from the actual art creation, but mostly because what's a few billion customers lost, in the service of such a benefit to art?

But... but... but that's just anti-capitalism, you communist!


Out of your system now? Good.
Artistic potential is more important than sales lost. Case in point: Because I've already explained my dialogue system (or at least the first version of it), and because I tend to operate under the assumption that you've read every post I've written from the very beginning, I could jump right to the good part- the usage of my system for creative purposes. If you haven't read my earlier post, then you could easily get frustrated by the very beginning of this new post. In this particular case, that doesn't bother me too much. But for works which are intended to be sold, it's good to keep in mind.

Whenever a long story is being broken into segments (and some people might only join in the middle) the writer needs to consider how to present the previous material. The easiest way to go is that taken by Peter Jackson: Just don't. The beginning of Return of the King doesn't tell you what you missed in the first two thirds- if you didn't see them, you're out of luck. Come to think of it, that's more or less the same thing I do here.

Or there's the method I see in the comicbooks published by DC Comics* (Here I'm talking about many of their regular issues, not their current crossover Infinite Crisis which requires the reader to be familiar with hundreds of characters' stories just to make heads or tails of it.): The first few pages have, either in monologue or dialogue, the entire backstory as it relates to the current situation. It feels completely forced, and cheapens the entire book.

A much more reasonable approach is that taken by Marvel Comics: The first page explains, in plain text, everything you need to know. It is clearly separated from the actual comic, so neither side harms the other. The same technique can be seen in most serialized TV shows, as the presentation opens with a montage of clips from previous episodes which together tell all the relevant backstory. But my favorite example of such separation is with early adventure games which told their backstories via short comicbooks bundled with the game.

Player requirements in gameplay can be dealt with in much the same ways. The traditional interactive Forms (music, dance, stage) do not come with instruction booklets. You don't know how to play piano? Too bad- fill in what you've missed and come back. Similar (though not nearly as harsh) is the adventure Form, particularly of the "point-and-click" variety. You're expected to have played such games in the past, so there's no in-game tutorial. Most you'll get is a manual which comes in the game box. The gamist takes advantage of the assumption that you know what you're doing by being focused on the story (the primary content) right from the beginning.

My least favorite option (as you might have guessed) is forcing a tutorial into the beginning of a game, or even having the tutorial run alongside the respectable, content-focused gameplay throughout the course of the game. Unfortunately, this is the most common approach. It cheapens the whole game, but what do they care?- it makes it more accessible to new players. Bl'bah!

Finally, my favorite option: the clearly separated tutorial. You might say that all games with manuals follow this approach to a certain extent, but I'll ignore that for the simple reason that no one reads manuals before playing. So let's just say that this is referring to games where the tutorial is focused on gameplay, but the "game proper" is focused on content. There is the chance that the player will get confused, but so what?- It'll be like an acquired language. Eventually, people will get used to it. Wouldn't you?

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Thursday, April 06, 2006

The Long Friday

Pesach's coming up. The fact that I'd start a post on such a banal note should say a lot as to how unremarkable this week is going to be. The fact that I'm analyzing what I'm saying without actually having said anything should be another clue. I'm warning you now, this is a waste of a post. You won't miss anything if you skip it. Seriously. I mean, I'm not going to say anything important. I rarely have anything important to say on Fridays. Now, today may not technically be a Friday, but it sure feels like it. Every day until Pesach will feel like a Friday. The girls are home making noise. Not exactly the best environment for creativity. There's this sense that I'm being pushed into doing work, that just sitting and relaxing is not acceptable. From that, naturally, comes the need to procrastinate. I'm doing that by writing this post. Sure, this post doesn't actually say anything, but it's a tool, you see, a tool. A tool for procrastination. See, the longer I keep this post going, the longer I have an excuse to not work. And everything feels like work- my mother even manages to make eating feel like work, by making it so clear how much chametz we have to get rid of. So I'm putting off lunch. I guess I'll have to eat after this post. What a shame that I have nothing to say, because I really need this post to go on for a while. Okay, so I don't really need it, but it would be nice. Or rather, the alternative would not be nice. Is the negation of something not nice nice? Maybe. Will I have to end this post soon? Definitely. Hmmm, can't talk about the weather too much, it's boring today. How 'bout gamism? I had planned to- nah, not the best time for writing something like that. You know the really funny part of all this? Okay, so it's not really funny, but it's sort of strange. Anyway, what's kind of funny is that writing this post is starting to feel tedious. It feels like my duty to procrastinate. It feels like work. Bleh. So I could stop working on this post- no, no- then I'd have to do real work. What, like eating? Yeah,.. no! No. Hey, wait a minute, when did I decide you could split into two characters without line breaks? Eah, whatever. And I'll have to wrap this up- You can only go on for so long about absolutely nothing. There must be a point where you just can't keep blabbering on, right? You know, when it occurs to you that you've got absolutely nothing to say? Because after you realize that, you couldn't possibly keep talking, right? That would just be awkward.

Okay, this is awkward. Maybe I shouldn't have started this post to begin with. But actually, maybe it's a good thing. The blog's a reflection of my life, right? And the way this post is going, it's completely expendable, right? You know, talk is cheap and all that. And on Fridays, even week-long Fridays, life feels cheap. It fits. Good. I'm so glad I settled that. I wouldn't want to be worrying about cheapening the value of the blog without good reason. And I guess this is as good a reason as any. I wonder if I could squeeze an interactive dialogue in here somehow, just to give myself an excuse to continue the post? Nah, too much work. Anyway, as I was saying (though was I actually saying anything?), it really feels like a Friday. So much so, that I'm expecting bourekas for lunch. Sure, I know it's not Friday, but tell that to my stomach. Or don't- that would be pretty weird. Oh no, I'm boring my readers to death. Then again, there are two reasons not to worry about that. First of all, my readers listened to me when I said, back at the beginning of this post, to skip it. My readers trust me, see. They know that when I say I'm about to waste a post I'm about to waste a post. And they have better things to do with their time than read a waste of a post. So my readers aren't actually reading this. Secondly, and this is a crucial point, I don't actually have any readers. Okay, so I have one or two, but there are two reasons I can say I don't have any readers. First of all, they're smart enough not to be reading this, so they won't be offended. I mean, how can you be offended by something you haven't read? Secondly, I'm rounding it to the nearest five. That's an acceptable thing to do, no? You hear about seventy-four of something, and you're asked how many it is, you say seventy-five. Because who really cares about the other one, right? Sure, that one might be crucial in reality (say, if you're talking about people), but it's not reality, it's just numbers. So it's perfectly alright for me to say that I have zero readers. Or say the time is 1:02. Would you say it's "one o'two", or would you say it's "one o'clock"? Now, there is a small chance that you might say it's "one o'two", but I can ignore that for two reasons. First of all, the fact that you might say it that way doesn't negate the validity of rounding it down. Secondly, you're not reading this, so what difference does it make how you personally would say it? ...and now that I've put that in the wrong order, I can't continue to a fourth branch. So I've got nothing left to say. Of course, it could be said (and I do believe I've said already) that I had nothing to say to begin with. But now I really have nothing to say. Bleh, Fridays.

4 Comments:

Blogger Sammy said:

That was actually a pretty amusing post, at least the ending was.
Yes, that means I read the whole thing through and that also means that I wasn't smart enough to stop reading when you implied that it would be a smart thing to do and your readers are smart enough to know to stop reading, but I read it so I guess I am not smart enough to be counted as a reader, since I am being considered a zero anyway, not even a reader.
Now what can we say about the people who DID read this post: well, one idea is that they didnt trust you, but you said they always do, so that means you have a fickle reader. Secondly, maybe the person who read the post all the way through was as bored as yourself, so they read it to identify with how you were feeling when you wrote the post or they were just bored, so they read it. another idea is that they too wished to waste time and push things off, so they read the post.

I think you secretly enjoyed writing the post, so you continued to do so even after you realized that you had nothing to write...

 Mory said:

Eh, it's not much of a secret. I had nothing to say that wouldn't be superfluous, so I figured I'd go with the "superfluous" theme. I've never done that before, you understand. Which means (and I hardly need to bring it up) that this post is not superfluous. I think I've failed.

Now, as to the claim that you've read this post- you're lying. I've thought it through quite thoroughly, and I have never given any of my zero readers any reason to mistrust me. As a matter of fact, just a few hours ago all zero readers informed me that they trust me completely, so this isn't even up for debate.

Furthermore, given that I have chosen (with perfect mathematical validity) to round the number of readers down to zero, you don't actually exist. In other words, you're a piece of fiction I have concocted- an IF, to use my old term. And as any writer knows, the writer has full control over the actions of his fiction within the boundaries he has set up. So when I deal with all my fictional readers (including you, I'm afraid) at once, it is in my power to decide what they will do. Therefore, when I said that my readers had stopped reading, it was retroactively so. In fact, to prove that I control my fiction, all the readers of this comment will now close their browsers. See?

The part at which this gets complicated is when you (in your comment) raised some points I had not considered. There are several ways this could have happened, but unfortunately they all involve me being certifiably insane. I'm not too happy about it, but logic forces me to accept this conclusion, and so I will! The most obvious result of all this is that I can say with full certainty that this blog post is not superfluous, because it proves that I am insane- which could not have been inferred as irrefutably from any previous posts! And so I certainly have failed with this post, but that is to be expected- After all, an insane man cannot hope to always succeed in what he sets out to do.

The second result is that now I can write a perfectly nonsensical comment like the one you have not been reading (since I have put it into IMX canon that you stopped after the third paragraph), I have a good excuse. I'm so proud to have written such a productive post! :)

Tamir said:

Hehe, you really are insane...made me laugh, though. ^_^

Also, I love the comparison between life and Mau. So very true.

Blogger Sammy said:

so I have been rounded down to being a zero and now you are telling me that I am imaginary... I guess it is true that we not only learn new things everyday, but there is always something new to discover about oneself... I am not real... how disconcerting...

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Sunday, April 02, 2006

The Key to Longevity, Part Two

I love Star Trek: Voyager. Each episode is a stand-alone, which gets resolved by the end of the 45 minutes. Every so often, I decide that I'd like to watch it, so I pick an episode at random to rewatch. And I always enjoy it immensely. In fact, the nostalgia I have for the show contributes to my newfound appreciation of the colorful family of characters and their relationships, so I think I enjoy it a little bit more now than when I first saw it. If I want fourty-five really fun minutes, that's where I head first.

I also love Battlestar Galactica. There are very few stand-alone episodes. Instead, each episode is just a small part of the larger story arc spanning the course of the entire series. I've tried to rewatch episodes, and it gets boring really quickly. It's hard to get really invested in a story when all the plot is just a development of previous themes, all the character development exists solely to move the characters to where you already know they'll be in future episodes, and there is no sense of closure. On rewatches, these episodes are very nearly worthless. On the other, I do enjoy rewatching the entire series, starting from the beginning, around once a year. That's rare enough that I'm not thinking ahead, so I can get caught up in the momentum of the character development. And by watching through the whole story, taken as a single entity, I get a satisfying experience where plotlines are introduced and resolved.

Neither of these two shows is as good as Babylon 5. (For that matter, I don't think any TV show is as good as Babylon 5.) It has a five-year story arc which puts BSG's to shame: While BSG's arc is constantly twisting in new directions, Babylon 5 knows exactly where it wants to be right from the beginning, and works its way there gradually. It is, as its creator J. Michael Straczynski put it, a novel written for television, with a clear beginning, middle and end. But alongside this long-term vision, each episode more or less stands on its own, no matter how critical a part of the arc it is. At the beginning of the episode, themes and plotlines are introduced. By the end of the fourty-five minutes, they are resolved. On rare occasions, I watch a whole string of B5 episodes to watch the arc unfold- it's quite a treat. But more often, I go back to rewatch just a single episode at random; at its end, I'm always satisfied. What keeps me watching is not the arc- that I only think about and admire later. No, what keeps me watching is the moment-to-moment greatness: comedy, tension, immediate problems.

It should be noted that B5 and BSG do not get better on rewatches as Voyager does. I have already identified the issue here as nostalgia. I am very nostalgic about Voyager, and not at all about either of my other favorite sci-fi shows. And I think I know why. Nostalgia is for the little things. You know what keeps drawing me back to Voyager? It's not the larger story- in fact, there isn't much in the way of a continuing arc. It's the family dynamic between the characters. Captain Janeway is the mother of the ship, Commander Chakotay is the father, the rest of the crew are the children, always spending time with each other, and Voyager is home. It doesn't need each story to radically change the status quo to earn such a special place in my heart- just this simple relationship. It is timeless and unforgettable. B5 has no such appeal, as the heavy arc progression overcomplicates. No simplicity, no nostalgia.

This is not to discredit long-term vision. An ongoing story is an admirable goal. It is enjoyable, even after having watched all of BSG, to just sit back and think about what's happened so far. It keeps the higher levels of the brain engaged, both by requiring memory and understanding of everything that's happened so far and by challenging the viewer to wonder what will happen next. The more popular reason given for long arcs is the added realism, but in my opinion realism is overrated. In any case, it is certainly a valid approach.

Now let's go back to the subjects of the original question. Metroid Prime and its sequel Echoes break their world design into rooms, each one beautiful standing on its own. The rooms are not repeated; each is unique and remarkable in its own right. They have a mostly clear, linear path to follow through the very nonlinear worlds, so there is always short-term momentum. In addition, there are many platforming and action challenges, which by their nature are short-term entertainment. The layout is complex enough to challenge the player, but simple and elegant enough that he will remember it fondly. I have a lot of nostalgia for Tallon IV and Aether (the Metroid Prime worlds). As such, each time, in addition to the simple beauty of the world design there is an additional layer of enjoyment: the feeling of coming back home after a long period of time. This only gets greater with each subsequent playthrough.

The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker has an excellent and memorable story of the sort you'd find in a work of anime. It asks patience of the player, letting him know that the first two hours or so are merely set-up. It is not challenging. It is not satisfying in the short term. Instead, it uses its gameplay to craft a provocative story in the long term. Take the very first section, set on Link's home island of Outset. It sets up characters such as Link's sister and grandmother, it puts the plot in motion, yadda yadda yadda. But it doesn't give the player any hooks to keep him engaged. The gameplay consists of walking back and forth on the island. There is no tension, little humor, minimal emotion. It doesn't really feel like home (since running back and forth isn't all that welcoming), so that's no hook either. I'm not going to go through and analyze the entire game here, but suffice it to say that a large portion of the rest of the game shows the same disregard for the short term, instead focusing on a larger (twenty hours or so) story. TWW is not fun to replay.

Finally, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. The best game ever made. It has an exciting story- though it's rooted in typical RPG cliché, it's told extraordinarily well, and with plenty of twists and turns. But at the same time, it always keeps the player focused on the present. What keeps me engaged from moment to moment is the emotion. The beginning at home, for instance, could stand on its own. Sure, it's teaching the player all the skills he'll need for the rest of the game, but at the same time there is the feeling of exploration and discovery, since the world design has intricacies such as hidden caves and a hard-to-reach ledge. There are things to find in every house. There is the welcoming feeling of being at home, as all the nearby characters make a point to say hello to you. There is the short-term game of finding both a sword and enough money to buy a shield. And there is the pressing plot point that the Great Deku Tree, for the first time, has summoned you to tell you something of vital importance. The player is kept entertained throughout. So while the game's complexity keeps the player from getting too nostalgic later (other than certain simple moments such as falling down a hole into a pool of water), the game stays fresh no matter how many times it is played.


In short, the key to longevity is simple, short-sighted, universal entertainment.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I edited this post at 10:50 PM, removing an analogy to music that not only overcomplicates the post, but just isn't any good.

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Thursday, March 30, 2006

Computer, Part Three

"Oh, you're up. Yossi just called- he said your computer's ready."

"Did he manage to transfer everything?"

"I don't know- I didn't ask."

...

"Hello, this is Mordechai Buckman. You said my computer was fixed?"

"Yes."

"Were you able to transfer everything from the old hard drive?"

"Yes.

"Really."

"I've got to tell you, it took me eight hours. I had to move it over sector by sector. But I saved everything."

"That's all I needed to know."


...

I picked it up this morning. And I took it in the car back to the house. And I carried it up the stairs to its spot. And I plugged everything in. And I turned it on. And I waited for it to boot up, while in my head I improvised for myself a song befitting a Broadway musical. ...and it crashed on the Windows XP screen.

It doesn't make sense- Yossi showed me it worked at his office. I turned it on, and everything was just the way I had left it. Everything worked fine. Apparently it's broken down in between the time I unplugged it there and the time I plugged it in here. Does this make any sense at all?

Maybe it's my fault- maybe I was so excited that I shook it around or something, and something came loose.

For such logically complex machines, computers don't make a whole lot of sense.

I'm writing this post on Benjy's laptop.

Blah.
(Posted by Mory @ 12:51 PM)



We were in the car, driving back to Yossi.

"You know what would be really silly?", I asked my mother.

"What?"

"If Yossi plugged it in over there and it worked."

...

Yossi opened it up to see what the problem was. He didn't see anything. He lightly tapped the hard drive, just to check if it was loose. He plugged in the computer. It worked.


...

So here I am, writing on Mozilla Firefox in my preferred resolution of 1280x1024. (I've felt pretty cramped being in 800x600 for the past few days.) Google Desktop is to my side, providing essential functionality but slowing down the computer tremendously. The left speaker isn't working. And as this little incident should illustrate, my computer is being as incomprehensible and uncooperative as ever. And you know what? It's good to be home.

1 Comment:

Blogger Sammy said:

well, that story has a happy ending! Everything is back to normal, which is as weird as you can get.

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Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Tapestry Thread: Easterly Wave

Not so unexpectedly, we've lost the elections. "We" being the religious.* (Exit polls estimate that the combined National Union and National Religious Party will get 8 seats in Knesset.) "We" being the right-wing.* (Likud will get 11 seats.) "We" being those who don't believe that rewarding the terrorists with more power will get them to stop fighting us.

But I'm not sure Olmert's platform is about belief. I can't believe a politician could get all the way to the top being stupid enough to believe something like that. More likely this is yet another effort to appease Europe and the rest of the world. Maybe if we do what they want, they'll support us. Or something like that. Anyway, I find it interesting that on the very first time that I get to vote for the right parties, the right fizzles out.

As more votes are counted, an eclipse is overhead. We don't look at it directly, but it's there. God's light was right up there, telling us that we are different, but it's blocked now. It's too late. We've lost. And all I can think of is that great line in the pilot of Battlestar Galactica: "We never ask ourselves why. Why are we worth saving?".

How can we be God's chosen people when we refuse to acknowledge it? When we pretend we're like all the other nations? When we're willing to shoot ourselves in the head to fit in? My mother is waiting for a miracle. She's waiting for Olmert to get a stroke. But we don't deserve a miracle- we have lost sight of who we are. We have lost sight of who we are meant to be. We were meant to be a light unto the nations. That light is blocked now.

I like the darkness, but there's one problem with it: You can't see very far ahead. So we'll all go back to worrying about our little, insignificant problems, for as long as the real issue stays avoidable. I'm lonely, and I miss my computer, and this chair is a bit uncomfortable.

I can't get friends, because I've learned my place. It's right that I should be alone- I am different. Come to think of it, that's a lie- I'll never learn my place. Just today, I tried talking to the people on the Gamecritics forums about the Israeli elections, expecting intelligent comments. There was exactly one responder, coming from the Netherlands, who expressed his satisfaction that we may finally lose Israel. (Very brutally, I might add.) I wrote a response:
Thank you for that enlightening comment. It's so nice to know I'm thought of as a "religious zealot fascist occupier" for wanting to live my life without fear of being attacked or thrown out of my home. You're right, I've been so inconsiderate!! We're surrounded by enemies, our government is on the border between simple incompetence and evil, but at least we have such friendly neighbors in Europe.
That's when my modem mysteriously stopped working, so the post never went through. Which is as it should be. I am different. I am alone.

By the way, my father bought me a nice little audio cable which lets me plug the Gamecube's audio-out to headphones. So finally I can hear stereo sound. But on the very first time I got to use it, the only pair of headphones in the house stopped working right. It's the right ear- it keeps fizzling out.

That of course reminds me again of my digital home, whose left speaker has never worked well. Yossi's still working on my computer, and I don't know how it will end. Will the transition to a new hard drive be relatively painless? Or will I lose everything I've ever had?

Only time will tell.

3 Comments:

Blogger Sammy said:

Yeah, it is kind of depressing when no one comments on your blog, especially when they keep up with it.I feel a little guilty that I dont update every night, because I feel like I owe it to the people who do read my blog.But then again, as you said, your blog is for yourself, so why should my keeping up with it, depend of other people.
I usually dont randomly read blogs, unless I am very very bored and I have nothing else to do, which isnt very often, cause people always want something from me. I do read Lori's (when she reminds me to), and now, well, yours, I guess. Once I found it, and if I had something to say, why did you think I wouldnt comment? Is it because no one else comments, or because of me in particular? Or I dont know... any other weird reason.
Even if your party didnt win, well, it still must have given you a satisfying feeling to have been able to vote. My birthdays not until the summer, so no voting for me. I guess I'll have to wait a couple more years, til I can pick a piece of paper with my party on it and stick it into an envelope.
Ok, I would keep writing, but I should update my own blog now, and this comment is getting pretty long, and I have a toshbah matkonet to study for. And about the music, I would be honored if you would let me look at it, but I am kind of busy, so if its not going to put you through any kind of agony, can it wait until next week?

 Mory said:

I didn't think you'd comment because, well... Look, I like to comment on posts which make interesting statements, or push me in some new creative direction. For instance, it was fun to comment on your short post. But when I read lots of straightforward exposition, I feel like there's nothing to say.

I didn't think you'd comment because I have a nagging suspicion that most other people are the other way 'round. Wander around in the land of smalltalk, through all sorts of random events and characters, and they'll like nothing more than join in. But wonder about the threads weaving events together, or hypothetical scenarios, and they stay far away.


If you think that putting a slip of paper into a box sounds exciting, then you're in for a big treat come next elections- I bet it will be every bit as satisfying as you expect it to be. Myself, I didn't think it sounded all that amazing, and it was every bit as satisfying as I expected it to be. It's all in the approach. Someone who's coming looking to feel like she's done her civic duty will try to get satisfaction out of it. I didn't.

In any case, I don't regard our government particularly highly, so it wasn't exactly an honor. Moreover, I knew for certain that another disengagement would pass, seeing as how there were two hurricanes in America and only one disengagement so far here. With the result a forgone conclusion, I felt more like I was playing the part fitting me than like I was shaping the future. It's all in the attitude.

As for the music, there's certainly no rush. I just thought you might enjoy it.

 Mory said:

Now it's looking like I was totally wrong, since there wasn't another disengagement. I guess I don't have much of a future as a prophet!

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Monday, March 27, 2006

Home Collapsing

Ariel loved his house. It was small, and it didn't stand out, but when it comes to homes, it's what's on the inside that counts. He had comfortable furniture, carefully placed to suit his tastes. He had bookshelves filled with all his favorites. This was his personal house. He'd lived in it.

He had no reason to suspect he wouldn't continue to live in it. He was sitting and relaxing, content in the familiarity of his surroundings, when he noticed a little bit of chipped paint. Ah well, he'd bring in a painter to fix it. But by the time he got there, the problem had escalated. There were now cracks in the wall. The painter informed him that there was nothing he could do.

Had it really been five years already? But there was no time to worry about that- the ceiling looked like it might cave in at any moment. Ariel rushed to preserve what he could of his posessions. He grabbed all the books he could carry from the shelves, and dropped them outside. He repeated this several times. But what about the furniture? No, there was no way he could possibly get them out in time- he'd just have to hope he could get it replaced. By this point, the other three walls all had started to crack as well. The doors fell down. Ariel jumped out of the house, and not a moment too soon, as the entire house collapsed behind him. Looking at the wreckage where his home had stood, he felt a hole in his heart.

The only thought before picking himself up and worrying about the price of a new house: "I'd like to murder that salesman."




My computer had a very small problem: it kept stuttering, whether or not I was doing anything. It stuttered even if there were no programs running at all. I hated to bring it in to be repaired, even if it were only for a day or so. After all, I had set up the operating system to work just the way I liked. I had all my favorite software installed and configured properly. More importantly, it had a special place in my heart. It's been my computer for five years. I've lived in it.

Of course I had to bring it in to Yossi anyway. With this stutter, I could not play games, listen to music, or watch video. I figured it was probably a nothing problem, and I'd get it back very soon. Not so. It turns out my hard drive has suddenly, and for no good reason, broken down. Or rather, it is about to break down completely, and this is just an early symptom. Yossi said that had I not brought it in, it would have stopped working very soon. There is no way to repair it. It must be replaced.

I asked him whether he could transfer my operating system and everything in it to the new hard drive - He said he's not sure. Under the Unified Theory of Computing, otherwise known as Murphy's Law, that means no. I've lost it all. Maybe he can preserve a few files before my home collapses for good, but that's all. It's taken me five years to get it working exactly the way I want it. Now it's gone.

Why can't I pay twice as much, for a computer only half as powerful, which is guaranteed to work from now until the day I die? A computer needs to be dependable, because it is virtually my home. Why do I need anything close to the top of the line? I don't want any of that fancy stuff. I just want to be guaranteed that when I come home, I can sit back and be comfortable. I just want to be sure that my home will always be there waiting for me. Is that so much to ask?

3 Comments:

Blogger Sammy said:

I figured fair is fair. You comment on my pathetic blog, so I should comment on yours. Not that its pathetic, on the contrary... it is quite creative. Do you mind my asking, but does anyone read your blog daily? This is not about you its about blogs in general, because the only person who reads mine (when I post) is Lori and I always talk to her, therefore, it isnt all that exciting... that she reads it. Maybe you have to have a lot of friends who use the computer in order to have your blog read. but as you said, friends? No, I dont think many people have real friends even when it seems like it. Are you really that bored? And I'm sorry to hear about your computer, especially since you use it so much.

 Mory said:

Well, I don't know much about blogs in general, but I do know that my blog exists to fill a hole that I had before it. If your blog is a bit simple, that's not "pathetic", it's a good thing- it means the hole in your life isn't anywhere near as big as mine! Okay, fine, I'll stop bragging. :)

Welcome to my blog. If my computer is like a physical home, then my blog is certainly my home on the internet. It's nice having a second home to fall back to. (Hopefully, this one has a bit more permanence.) The only regular guest here is Tamir, though he doesn't comment often. Hi there, Tamir! And I never address real people when they're not present. Um..

Anyway, it's actually a bit annoying that I can see people coming on to the blog when they do, since when they don't write then I feel bad that I didn't get to talk to them. I guess I wasn't really expecting you to comment when I saw you pop up, so I'm very excited. (You can tell I'm excited when I take four paragraphs for what ought to take only a few sentences.)

So now I'm thinking, maybe I need some sort of instant message feature on the bottom of the blog pages, where you could write in messages that go away after five minutes or so. I wonder if it can be done. That way, I'd actually be able to talk to guests.

 Mory said:

I'm going to retract what I said about this being a home. There's always one home. The blog isn't really much more of a home than my piano is. I mean, "home" has connotations of the lack of work. Now that I'm thinking about it, it was a pretty stupid thing for me to say. Oh well, won't be my last.

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Usually, I don't play piano for all that long. Today I have little else to do. Solo improv without an audience gets pretty lonely.


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Sunday, March 26, 2006

Matters of Taste

Every so often, there's a chamber music concert for the Etta Kossowsky Fund, which is a fundraiser for something or other. Yesterday (after Shabbat) was the last one of the season. It was flute and piano, and they were playing (mostly) pieces by Fauré. I went because I love Fauré's music. Miriam came along. Already as we and our father were in the car, she started having second thoughts. She said to let her out, so that she could go home. She's very impulsive that way.

The music was amazing. It really inspired me. My father seemed to really enjoy it a lot, and it also gave him an opportunity to reminisce about his playing the clarinet in high school. (This was the first I'd heard of it.) Miriam was bored. When we finished, I was enthusiastically talking about the various pieces, while all Miriam had to say was "It was okay, but really long".



My mother organized a concert paying tribute to Simon & Garfunkle, as a fundraiser for JobKatif, which helps victims of the evacuation. I came back from that now. Miriam went because she loves Simon & Garfunkle's music. I came along. (I wouldn't have normally, but as it so happened on this very day I had taken my computer in for repairs, so I had less to do at home than usual.) We had to come really early since my mother was setting up, so I brought my Game Boy.

Everyone around me was smiling and seemed to be really into it. I'm sure Miriam really enjoyed it, because it's simple, repetitive music which is fairly nice. My father seemed to really love it, and he sang along whenever he remembered the lyrics. I was bored. When we finished, Miriam was humming all the tunes.

So how was it? Okay, I guess. But boy, it was really long.

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Day of Wrest

It was a dingy little apartment, but what did it matter- I had brought my Gamecube. Actually, I had finally gotten my father to play Pikmin, and he was amazing!- He had zoomed through the whole game in one sitting! He was up to the last part for Olimar's ship. I helped him through getting it. Inside the game, we climbed on books like the little creatures we were, and with great effort and good teamwork unscrewed the bolts holding the final piece in place.

"We'll finish this some other time- we have to go. Get my stuff."

And so I did. Turning back, I saw that there were two little kids walking with him as we left the room- a boy and a girl.

"Meet me down by the car."

I started down the stairs. And a lot of stairs there were! All over the walls were random numbers -------
96...55...
- one number written big, in white paint, and little black numbers all around it listing all the nearby floors. And a lot of floors there were! I ran, but the stairway would go on forever.

I got to the bottom, and looked around. Which car was it? Oh, right, this one. My father came, carrying nothing, with the two kids.

"My Gamecube's still up there!"

And I ran up to where we were before. Or was it this floor?- they all look the same! I tried the blue key he'd given me on a nearby door which looked like it might be it. It took a lot of effort to turn the key, but I did- I turned it all the way around. And the door stayed closed. I ran in even more desperation, until I saw a door that had to be it- well, it probably wasn't it. But there was something covering the keyhole! It was blue and green- how odd, that looks exactly like my kippah.. No time to think about religion- my Gamecube's in there! But the key wouldn't turn.

I ran down and yelled, "I can't find the room! What number is it?"

"I have no idea."

Turning to the kids, he said, "Stay here."

We turned to go back up, but I knew he wouldn't go through with it, leaving them down there- he'd leave me. I'd never see my Gamecube...

That's when I woke up, only to realize -------
Wait, what day is it?
Oh.
that I hadn't been too far off the mark- it was Shabbat morning. Which means that through no fault of my own, I really had lost my Gamecube. Not to mention my social environment. And my music. And my entertainment. And the ability to get information. And the ability to let out my thoughts. In short, I'd lost everything that makes up my life.

God, I hate Shabbat.

In life, I talk to people over the internet. I'll alienate them quickly, but it doesn't matter too much on a public forum- there are always new people to talk to.
On Shabbat, there's exactly one person to talk to- Eli. So if he's off playing with his friends, or just doesn't want to be with me, I've got nothing to do for 25 hours. Today I was actually lucky- I managed to spend a few good hours with Eli. *
Okay, to tell the truth, he did try to get rid of me. I didn't let him, and got to have something to do for another few hours.


In life, if I want to go exploring I can wander around Aether or Riven.
On Shabbat, I can walk around the street. Which brings me in a circle to the beginning of the street again. It's a small street. There's nothing interesting nearby.

In life, if I want to just have fun, I can play Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat or Pikmin 2.
On Shabbat, I've got two options: Gin Rummy, or Rum 500. That is, assuming there's anyone I can force into playing. If not, all I've got is Freecell.

In life, if I want music I make it on the piano. If I want to make music that will last, I use either a pencil and paper or the computer to write it down.
On Shabbat, if I want music I have to pretend that repetitive and fairly primitive Z'mirot (which exist not for the sake of a good tune but only as a means to praise Shabbat) are enough. Because that's all I've got.

In life, I can deal with problems by writing about them.
On Shabbat, I must keep my problems bottled up. There's nothing quite like a Shabbat for emotional stagnation.


Shabbat always starts the same way. It starts with me sitting, with nothing to do, bothering my mother by asking when it's over and mentioning how much I hate it. It's sort of a tradition by this point. Her part of the tradition is telling me "Go read a book." to every statement. I don't like reading plain text very much, especially when it is (as usual) bogged down in descriptions and exposition. If the material is really good, I'll put up with it for a short period of time. But only for a short period of time. My mother knows this, but she'd like to be able to sit down and read the newspaper in silence.

She also likes telling me that Shabbat is the highlight of her week. I feel sorry for her.

This week, she actually brought in a new twist- placing blame. She said: "You had a whole week to figure out what you could do on Shabbat!" Well, I have ideas. I've always had ideas. Like having a series of videos displaying on the computer during certain hours, so that I could watch something interesting without having to break Shabbat to do it. This is said to "go against the spirit of Shabbat", since the spirit of Shabbat is boredom. So that's not allowed.

What am I allowed to do then? Read books! Aren't I lucky to have such a selection.

Oh, don't get me wrong- I understand very well why I can't do anything on Shabbat. I'm never going to break it. But how I wish I could.

Then there's the Friday night meal, which is meat. I don't like meat so much, unless it's a sirloin steak. (I never get to eat steak.) I prefer dairy. I prefer pasta. I prefer lasagna. Mmmmm... lasagna. What was I talking about again?

Oh right, the meal. I never get to eat lasagna on Shabbat, because it's not "in the spirit of Shabbat". I get to eat bland chicken. Yay. We all sit together for the meal, singing the traditional songs we've all long since gotten bored of, and with a big, fancy, tasteless meal prepared by my mother in honor of Shabbat. And we sit around the table, and if we're really lucky someone will think of something interesting to say. Unfortunately, we are so different from each other that what one person finds interesting another will find depressing. Typically we latch onto a conversation about politics, and Miriam starts yelling about how she hates hearing about politics. It's a boring meal.

Then I go to bed, trying to forget it's Shabbat for long enough to fall asleep. This generally involves me pacing back and forth in the candle-lit living room past midnight, trying to think of hypothetical gameplay systems.

In the morning, I daven and read through the weekly Torah portion for myself. Then I wait for everyone to come back from shul, which takes a long time. And I wait. And I walk outside, to see what the weather is like, and walk back in for fear of burning. And I wait.

Then they come home, and we have lunch, which is effectively the same as dinner, though with different food. It's a boring meal.

Then I chase down Eli.

And I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait.

3 Comments:

 Mory said:

I figured, if I was going to do a post about my hatred of Shabbat, I ought to make it complete.

Blogger Kendra Lynn said:

Why is Shabbat so bad?
I don't understand.

Kendra

 Mory said:

Well, that's an odd question to follow such a long post explaining why I hate Shabbat, but some time has passed since this post so I might as well take another look at the subject.

My life revolves around electronics and music, neither of which are allowed on Shabbat because they technically fit the term "work" which it is said we must not do. My socialization, my entertainment, my sources of information and my self-expression are all prohibited. Where they were, there is an emptiness which nothing allowed on Shabbat can fill.

Goodness knows I've tried to fill that gap. I've tried to get friends in the Real World I could talk to, only to realize that they had no interest in talking to me. I've tried to find ways to entertain myself, such as jigsaw puzzles, but they were not satisfying and only lasted me a few weeks before I got sick of them. I've now started learning math on Shabbat, though I know I can only get so far without being allowed to write. When I come up with music, more often than not it is forgotten by the time the day ends, since I have no way of remembering it without the use of a pencil or a piano.

What I am left with is a profound hatred of Shabbat and extreme boredom. I hope this clarifies

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Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Democracy of Morons

Moshe stood at the gateway of the camp, and said, "Whoever is for God, join me!" - and all the Levites gathered around him.
Good for the tribe of Levi. But let's not forget that they were only 1 tribe out of 12. What the heck was wrong with the other eleven tribes?

I've just come back from a talk by Natan Sharansky about the upcoming elections. He's a very intelligent man, and it was fascinating. He gave a historical perspective, and explained in very practical terms why we should vote for Likud. Basically, he says that there are only two potential leaders: Likud's Bibi Netanyahu and Ehud Olmert. If we don't vote, or vote for a party other than Likud, it will hurt Netanyahu's chances of creating a coalition.

Now, I don't know much at all about politics. But let's say that we stopped believing that the two parties with the most confidence in themselves are the only two candidates worth considering. We'd stop voting for the ones we think are going to win, and start voting for the parties we believe should win. And then Likud would have no chance at all! For that matter, even Olmert's Kadima wouldn't necessarily get many votes.

Likud wouldn't get many votes, because Netanyahu has failed to promise, well, anything. It seems that the only reason to vote for Likud is that Likud's not Kadima. And while I see the importance of not allowing Kadima to get far, that's not much of a platform to stand on. What's to guarantee that Likud won't choose to go farther left, if the "political realities" force them? Netanyahu's not making a stand. Oh, Sharansky excused that too. He explained, in practical terms, why it's wrong to give a final goal before any negotiations. And it makes sense. But there's no ideology here, no plan, no nothing. No one would vote for Likud if Bibi weren't so confident that people thought he had a chance. No one would vote for Likud if this were about ideas and not manipulations.

Kadima wouldn't get many votes, because they don't have much of a platform either. Kadima's members come from all over the political spectrum, and don't really share a vision for the future of the country. As Sharansky put it so aptly: "They agree on only one thing: they all want to be in power." But the message they send (and which the media helps along) is "We are the future winners. Vote for us to be on the winning side." If people stopped wanting to vote for the "winning side", Kadima would have no chance at getting anything. And Olmert's personal position is a guaranteed course to self-destruction. He's openly stated that he's going to give a tremendous amount of land to the terrorists, without asking anything in return. The result would of course be an effort by the terrorists to keep going until they get all the rest, but Olmert's not selling a solid idea; he's selling a winner's attitude.

A little while ago, I listened to a talk by National Union's Effi Eitam, who had very clear ideas and very clear goals. They're perceived as a loser in this election. They will be a loser. The polls show them getting 10 seats in the Knesset out of 120. The polls have Kadima doing quite well, and why shouldn't they?- they're the future winners, as we all know.

As a matter of fact, I do know that Olmert will win, and I do know that he'll have his catastrophic "disengagement". When people approach elections so recklessly as to worry more about feeling like they're on the winning side than about actual ideas, how could he not? I'm going to vote for National Union.

1 Comment:

Tamir said:

I won't deny that there are many people who vote for the leading parties only because they are the leading parties. But you'd be surprised at the number of people who actually believe that Kadima or Likud should win.

I don't know what this country is coming to....I think you made a good choice, though.

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I'd like to go back to my home planet now.


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Friday, March 17, 2006

Simple Reactionary Dialogue Control

Hey- I've got a really cool idea- want to hear it?

What sort of idea is this?

Not really, no. Go away now.

I'll tell you anyway.

Well, OK, as long as it's really short.

See, I've come up with a system for controlling dialogue in videogames.


Sorry, but I'm just not interested.

Hey, I just remembered this very very important meeting. I don't want to be late, so I'll just have to, um, go. Bye!



A meeting.


What- you've never had to go to a meeting?

Okay, you win. I'll leave you alone now.

Oh yes.

I don't buy it.

Oh well, I tried.

Yeah. In fact, this meeting is so important that I'd lose my job if I didn't get there, like, right now.

Overshot a little there, don't you think?


Okay, you caught me. What's this idea of yours?

LOOK AT THAT! A THREE-HEADED MONKEY!!

Where?



Rats.

Maybe a little, yeah.

Seriously, can I tell you my idea?


Sure. What did you say this was about?

It's a way to control dialogue in games.


What's wrong with dialogue trees?

Okay, I'm listening.

Go on...

See, I've mentioned in the past that it's a good idea to separate the player from the character in story-centered games.

Fine, fine.

Well, you'll probably tell me no matter what I say.

Probably.

Fine, go ahead.

As I was saying, I've come up with a way to control dialogue. The current techniques, like dialogue trees, don't work too well, so I've come up with this to replace them.


Sounds ambitious. How would it work?

Well, I've mentioned in the past that it's a good idea to separate the player from the character in story-centered games.

Well, I don't really see the problem with dialogue trees, but go on.

I've mentioned in the past that it's a good idea to separate the player from the character in story-centered games.

I don't know- I've never had a problem with dialogue trees.

Well, in a dialogue tree the player decides exactly what the character should say, so the character ends up feeling like nothing more than an empty shell (as opposed to a person). I've gone over why things like that are a bad idea in the past.


So how else could it work?

Right.

I'm still not convinced there's anything wrong with dialogue trees. They can be very creative-

Sure, sure. But having the player carefully plan out exactly what the player character is going to say means that he can't possibly be an interesting character. He can't lose his temper, he can't be socially awkward, he can't make mistakes, he can't be forgetful, he can't-

Okay, I see your point.
So what I'd like to do is give the player less control over the dialogue, so that it should still interest and maybe surprise him, but give him enough control that he can, in fact, change the course of the discussion.

How would that work?

That's pretty vague.

Okay, I'll be more specific.

What- you mean, less control than you get nowadays with stuff like dialogue trees. Right.

Instead of being given a list of possible sentences (which, I might add, feels nothing like a real conversation), the player should be given only three buttons. One with a question mark, the second with an exclamation mark, and the third with three dots.


Why?

Okay, that's a bit... strange.

It's sort of an iconic representation of the most basic options for reacting to what's been said: asking a question, making a statement, and thinking about it.


And that's supposed to "feel like a real conversation", is it?

Sort of. When you're having a conversation, you never stop to consider all the possible things you might say- you just get swept along in the flow of the conversation. You generally don't plan out tactics. But you do generally know whether you're about to ask a question, or make a statement, or think a bit. Also whether you're going to agree or disagree.


But still, how will the player know what his character is going to say?

Well, he won't, really. All he's really picking is the tone of what the character's going to say. And that's half the essence of a conversation, I think. What the character actually says should be up to the character as much as it is up to the player.
Anyway, it'

I think I see what you're saying. Sounds interesting.

It'

True.

Uh... right. But it'

Now hold on a minute- how would the player know whether the character's going to agree or disagree? You didn't say anything about-

Oh, you're right, I'm getting ahead of myself. It i
s a little more complicated than just the three buttons. See, there would also be colors for each of them, either red or blue. The player wouldn't be able to control that- it just tells the player more about what the character feels like saying next. Sort of a heads-up, but not so descriptive that it ruins the conversation.

Uh huh. Why don't you go do it, then?

Huh?


Why don't you make this imaginary system of yours?

It's a good idea. You should do it.

Well, I'd need to test it first. I mean, I don't know how well it would work. And I know everyone says you shouldn't do branching paths, so I don't even know if it's practical to set something like this up.
Anyway, I didn't finish telling you about the color system yet. B

Never mind. You were saying something about the colors?

Yeah. B

So what do the colors describe, exactly?

B

Um, red and blue?

B
asically, red means the PC will disagree and blue means he'll agree. Like, a red question mark is usually a challenge and a blue question mark is usually an inquiry. That's the word, right?- "inquiry"? Yeah, I think so.

Whatever. So this is like, for adventures, right?

Yeah. Or RPGs. It'd work well in RPGs.


Can I go now?

There's just one thing I don't understand. If you're taking so much control away from the player, then why don't you just take away all control? Why bother making it a game at all?

Well, first of all, it may sound like a cliché, but the connection between the player and the character is really important. Listening to someone else having a conversation is nothing like participating in one.
Secondly, interactivity gives a lot of depth. Really. I mean, with a linear conversation, it feels like every sentence is necessary, you know, it's rigid.


Well, it's a good idea. Best of luck with it.

Alright, I get it. Can I go now?

Right.
Well, that was, um... interesting. Bye.

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

I understand now. This is what I have to offer.

Blogger Kyler said:

That was fun.

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Tuesday, March 14, 2006

another post

hi see its purim so i dressed up last night during the megilla reading as an old man with a white beard and a cane and i hobbled around... heh, "hobbled", thats a funny word. it was fun. today, doesnt look like ill do much, so im just writing a post, on the blog, which is what your reading, ha, and maybe then, ill do something else. like, what should i do? bet you guys have ideas. ya, especially you there, you know who you are, youve got ideas.

Hey, I just browsed in here, and WOW! This is such an awesome blog!
you really think so?
Yeah, I'm gonna put this in my links.
i got a link i got a link im jumping up and down though you cant see it. i cant believe i got a link that is so cool. bye now

9 Comments:

metoo said:

Just an old man? Sheesh, that's lame. I'm not telling you what my costume was because its still Purim and you might steal it. Trust me, its good.

Avi said:

I just popped in to say hi!

Yair said:

Happy Purim!

casual blogger said:

That's a really stupid post. Is it supposed to be, like, ironic, or something?

avi said:

I thought it was funny.

ApolloFan said:

Hey, did you see that last episode of Battlestar Galactica? That was so amazing!

Bob said:

Yeah, Happy Purim! Have Fun!

TheNonazangian said:

Are you doing anything for the carnival?

 Mory said:

na, ill probly be staying in

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Sunday, March 12, 2006

Selfish Friendships

We enjoy entertaining others- isn't that weird? You'd think that with a trait like that, humanity would be constantly entertained. It's weird how much I wish I could get my family to play games. At least I had the chance to introduce Dena to comics. I gave her my collection of Fables by Bill Willingham. It's weird how much I enjoy knowing that she enjoyed it.

But you know what's even weirder than that? How much I love to bore other people with ideas about gamism. When I think about it, this seems to contradict the first point. I mean, I know I'm not entertaining them. And I don't care too much. Maybe we so desperately need to feel like we're giving others all we can, that the question of how it will be received is secondary. Eah, whatever, maybe I should just admit I don't get it and move on.

Now, what's not weird considering all this is that friendships seem to be completely selfish. I don't invite Eli over to play Gamecube because I think he wants to; I invite Eli over to play Gamecube because I like knowing that I've given him entertainment. I don't talk to people (when I do, which admittedly is rare) because they've expressed interest; I talk to people because I know I'll enjoy chattering.

The people who at one point or another I considered friends can easily be split into two categories: hyperactive people, and nonhyperactive people. Friendships with hyperactive people could conceivably go on forever, I think, if life didn't get in the way. Friendships with anyone else are short-lived. I'm not entirely sure why this is, but I have theories. When talking with a hyperactive person, he will be constantly jumping from one topic to another, which makes it more likely that eventually we'll reach an opening for me to start chattering. And then occasionally this person will fixate on a particular topic, because hyperactive people always have some particular quirks. Then I can enjoy the knowledge that I am offering him someone to chatter to.

Nonhyperactive people I don't want to have long-lasting friendships with. After a while, for whatever reason, I feel like I no longer have anything to gain from the friendship. So I abandon it. The end of such a friendship is filled with long, awkward pauses in which I try in vain to find an opening for chatter. I've been through around ten such friendships that I can remember off the top of my head. But I think I'm finally getting better at noticing when the friendship has run its course and abandoning it. See, a friendship that's over is really annoying when you don't realize it's over. So I've learned to not make any excuses or try to "fix" the relationships; when there's nothing more to say,

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Whoever decided that a PC's plugs should go on the back is a moron.


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Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Tapestry Thread: Light Confusion

I've finished the second season of B5 and don't yet have the third.

Our ancient TV has burnt out.

I'm not making any progress with Smilie.

I've started a new piece of music, which is moving along really quickly.


I'll skip the usual drawn-out narrative and get to the real issue: Why?

I'm not going to even bother asking whether I'm wrong, because I don't really care. If I were to be handed irrefutable proof that my future is as a musician and not a gamist, I'd ignore it.

And you know?- this is pretty close to that proof. Writing my latest masterpiece comes easily; Writing for Smilie is a chore. My earlier argument about originality has suddenly been reversed!- For the first time, I think my new music is unique. I tried writing down the RPG ideas I have, and what I've put to text so far seems naggingly derivative! On previous occasions, I've always been able to claim that my gift in music gave me a unique perspective on gamism, but that can't be applied here- There is no clear connection between Smilie and the music, and my composition is taking me away from the path to gamism.

Why?

Why can't it be easy to write games?

Why?

Why must I have the gift of music, though I have no desire to use it?

Why should my life make way for music, but not for games?

Why?

Why am I pulled in without accepting it?

Why?

I have always prevented myself from going in too deeply simply by inaction. I was twice given the opportunity to get serious with my music. Both times, if I had said yes I would have gone far. I didn't do the composition bagrut. I didn't perform for my school. I didn't learn the piece Stasia gave me. I didn't learn the duet a neighbor gave me. If I had recorded my compositions, I could have gone far. I was twice given the opportunity to do so. I have made my decision time and time again.

And even so I keep getting pulled along. It was not Smilie that I gravitated to, but a piece which had not yet even been started. I cannot write up my RPG, but notes spill out of my fingers. And now my sources of entertainment are cut off, but for the online radio station devoted to classical music: so simple, so accessible. I'll ignore it.

I'll ignore it all. For now.


The path to music lies ahead.

Distractions from that path have disappeared.

But the question remains: Why?


2 Comments:

 Mory said:

It's a shame 'bout the TV- I just got Pikmin 2. Then there's also Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat, but I can't play that often because my mother's always working and she needs quiet. Both excellent games, especially DK.

I was playing Pikmin 2, when suddenly it just shut off. I went to see what the problem was, and smelled smoke. That was it. RIP, trashy television.

 Mory said:

The TV has since been fixed.

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Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Strike one!

Not so unexpectedly, my velocity is back to zero. Once again, I am reminded that life as a chair ornament isn't bad, all things considered. Fantastic, as a matter of fact. Here I am, with no responsibilities in the world. No one's in the room right now but me; No one would mind if I played through those last few levels of Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat. What a great game. Or I could continue watching Babylon 5- even greater.

But I've done all this. I've been here before. I don't want any portion of my life to be redundant. Then again, only the format's redundant, not the content. Oh, why must these thoughts torment me so? If they'd only go away, I could enjoy myself, as I've been enjoying this past month or so. Good times.

But... um, there must be a reason to bother myself. Hmmm... Oh yes, I can't do this forever. But I'm not asking for forever (though it would be nice), just an hour or two. Yes, well, hmmm... That's right, the world wants me to be..Oh right.That's right, the world wants me to be..Oh right. Scratch that thought. Oooh, maybe fear will do the trick: [ahem] Your father knows you don't deserve this life, and he'll kick you out of the house! Nah, doesn't work.

Why don't I just stop dodging the issue?- In fact, I think I will. Right. I have no motivation to do anything even remotely resembling productivity. Well, if you bring it up I guess the blog sort of- Oh right, I'm dodging the issue. Er,...

What was I talking about again? Right, right, the lack of motivation. Despicable, simply despicable. Though, if you really stop and think about it, it's not specifically a problem so much as- Despicable! And the problem must be dealt with. Am I not in control of my own actions? Of course I am, though I like to act indirectly. The blog was a good tool for my further self-corruption [Heh, heh.] but my plans were thwarted by the wall of games. Though you have to admit they were really good. Beside the point, beside the point! The point is, there is a problem, and it will be dealt with.

The problem is that I am so unwilling to incorporate productive activities into my daily routine. Every day, I follow the same basic schedule, designed to provide instant gratification at all times. I wake up, and head straight for the computer. I open Firefox, whose home page is twenty tabs: The blog, GameCritics and Adventure Gamers, game sites and movie sites, comic strips and an extra blank tab. Then I check my RSS feeds. Then I check my e-mail, if I wish. Then I have lunch: a Lender's bagel and Philadelphia cream cheese. And then I do whatever I please until long past midnight, at which point I reluctantly go to sleep. It's all so maddeningly satisfying. What I need, what I need is some time in my schedule in which I will do some productive work. Content is irrelevant; it's the format I need to get used to.

This is all just academic; I have no reason to want any of that. The blog was motivation enough, for a time, but I won't use it again- It's been done. So here's a second solution: a letter from my grandfather.
Write and let us know what you are doing (in more that one word, if you can).
So simple that I can't not answer- I've told him on numerous occasions that if he should ever write, I'd respond. And this all underscores the fact that I said I'd have made progress by the time they came here. I'd better stand by my word.

It's settled, then. For the rest of the day, I will do only boring, productive work. Tomorrow, I will do more. There's no lack of material to play and watch, so this trial recreates its predecessor. Progress will be made.

Update (7:03 PM): I've changed my mind. I can't work like this, with all this noise around. Instead, from this day forth I shall impose upon myself new rules:
  • In the morning, I may not browse the web until I have proven myself deserving.
  • I may not start any new activity past midnight. I may only finish up what I have already been doing.
Good enough, I think. Now, back to Babylon 5.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I didn't enforce the rules, and quickly forgot I had ever set them.

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Monday, February 27, 2006

Creative Redundancy

If a piece of music isn't original, is it worth anything?

I hope the answer is "yes", because I don't see almost any of what I compose as original. I always intend for it to be original when I'm starting out, but soon after (This can take anywhere between a half minute and a week.) I realize that it's exactly like three things I've heard many times before. Most often what's being ripped off is The Lord of the Rings, Babylon 5, Disney musicals, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and/or trashy pop. After the inevitable realization, I'm still just as much in love with the theme as I was before, but I play it less. It becomes a guilty pleasure. I start wishing I hadn't come up with it in the first place, so that it couldn't have broken my heart.

It's not always a rip-off. There are one or two pieces of mine which, to this day, I haven't noticed to be completely derivative. I don't like them as much as the others. They're pretty dry, without any emotion. I suppose when it comes to writing emotion, I'm just a leech. It makes sense. I'm reminded of when Stasia tried getting me to play a romantic piece. I was just hopeless. I tried, I really did. But I had no clue what I was meant to be doing.

Anyhow, when I come up with a theme, I want to be moved by it. So it always turns out to be taken from somewhere else. Does this make me redundant as a composer? I think it does. I'm reminded of when Eliezer tried getting me to write something original. I came up with some interesting original material, because I do have some talent. But I wasn't interested in it so much; I preferred to go off in more derivative directions for the variations. I'm capable of playing piano decently enough, because I do have some talent, but I'm not interested much; I'd prefer to spend my life making videogames. At least there's plenty of room for structural advances in gamism.

You know the funniest part of all this? A few hours ago, I "came up" with a new theme which blew me away. I worked on it for around an hour, trying to get it just right. I felt very proud of myself when it starting sounding nice. It's so catchy it's still stubbornly refusing to leave my mind. Well, I realized after that hour that it was derivative. That was no surprise. What was a surprise was where it came from- You see, this theme was not just a rip-off, it was a rip-off of my own piece! It sounded exactly like something else I'd just composed (itself heavily derivative), and I'd gone an hour without noticing it!

In this case, the solution is simple: I'll just append this new variation to the original piece. I hadn't worked out an ending yet, so that should be no problem. But the question remains: If my compositions are so redundant, then what's the point?

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Monday, February 20, 2006

Mistake, Lesson, Repeat

It started when I noticed that my 18th birthday was coming up. 18 has a lot of symbolical significance. It's the age at which a person is legally an adult. With that comes the ability to vote, of course, which in theory gives me partial ownership of this country, along with all the other morons above age 18. Wow, that's a scary thought. In G'matriya, 18 is "Chai" which means living. Or "Chet" (sin), now that I think about it.

Anyhow, I panicked. I should have said that I did not choose to attribute any significance to the number eighteen, and left it at that. Instead, I wrote the following post on the Adventure Gamers forum:
I haven't been very open here in the past, but I need to get this out of my system, and I don't exactly have any friends in the real world. Maybe if I write it up I'll feel better. My 18th birthday is coming up soon, and it's really getting to me. This is the legal age of adulthood, and what I really want is to push that off, oh, say five more years. It's not that there's any specific problem than this; it's just the general concept that now I will be expected by society to be an adult.

Oy, listen to me, I sound like a condescending kid's cartoon written by adults. This is awkward. I'm out of high school, and have no job (well, I have one very small job once a month, just so I have enough money to buy a game once in a blue moon). Studying any more is out of the question. The question I'm facing is obviously, "What do I want to do with my life?", but I really don't want to answer that question. It's so much easier to ignore it, like I've ignored everything I didn't like in my life. The fact is, I know exactly what I want to do with my life- I'd like to do as little as possible.

But this answer isn't good enough. I want to make games, I really do. Or maybe I don't. Maybe I just want to be at the top, to be in a position where I can make games. Ugh, I don't know what I want. I certainly don't want anything enough to work for it. Yeah, that's a good excuse. Maybe now I can play my games in peace. Okay.

So I've said it. Hm, I don't feel any better. :(


In all my apocalyptic ramblings, I didn't notice that I had no cause whatsoever for alarm. The worrying about eighteen was just in my head; if I wanted to continue along the path I'd set for myself, a number certainly couldn't stop me.


It was because of the mistake of putting it on the forums that my real problem started. It was inevitable that it would, though it took a while. My friendly fellow forumites tried to set me up on some insane trip to redefine myself as they thought best, and it ended up with me completely depressed, making a complete fool of myself and not caring too much.

At any point, I could have told the other posters to stop giving suggestions. I should have said:
I don't want any of your help, and no good will come of offering it. Just trust me on this: you don't want to try to change me.
That would have been it, no? I would never have had any problem at all. Instead, I humored them and came up with rational arguments for not going.


Anyhow, I'm perfectly fine now. I have had a very nice day, and I'm not worried in the slightest about tomorrow. I have written off the entire thread as a mistake, and have resolved (once again) to never do anything like it in the future.



So why am I even bringing it up again? Why am I putting this out in the open on my blog? Well, to approach this rationally, I have four very good arguments:
  1. I created this blog to show a truthful portrayal of myself. If I gloss over such unflattering events, I'm not being true to that vision.
  2. This is a lesson I have needed to learn for a very long time. Maybe by putting it here, I can remind my future self to not repeat this mistake.
  3. It is a testament to the great qualities of my fellow Adventure Gamers posters that even after I bothered them so much (as I must imagine I did), they were still kind to me.
  4. I still feel bad about starting the thread. Maybe if I write it up, I'll feel better....

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Friday, February 17, 2006

Game flow control

I've got to tell you this, Bob. I didn't want to, but I can't keep it to myself any longer.

God, this scene's boring. Wake me when it's over.

You see, I actually ... and that's why!

What did she say? I didn't catch that line! I think it was important!

Be quiet, will you? We're trying to watch the movie!

Yeah, but I've got to know- hey, that scenery was gorgeous! Why was it so short?; I wanted to-

Arrrrgh...

Wait, that line there- that's the same thing he said to John back at the beginning, isn't it? Is there some larger issue here?

Shut up, shut up!



...and so, we see that any time art is viewed publicly, whether in a movie, or a play, or a concert, or a dance, the viewer has absolutely no control over the "flow" of the experience, for obvious reasons. For that matter, even the player ideally has little control over the flow- everything is rehearsed or prepared beforehand, and the experience is already in its completed form before a single person from the audience enters the room! If the person operating the movie projector would like to skip a particularly bad scene, for instance, he has no authority with which to do so. Or if the player at a concert doesn't feel he's done the best performance he could possibly do in those last few measures, he is not allowed to return and play it over.

On the other hand, this rigid and constant lack of control over the flow of a work of art or entertainment is alien to the field of home entertainment (and art), in which the player may view the work in any fashion he sees fit. Indeed, many great creators have used this fact to their advantage: A great novelist may intentionally try to remind the reader of a previous event, in the hopes that he will flip back through the pages to that point and look at it again with the added perspective he has gained since then. If a section of music on a CD is particularly moving, the listener can rewind it to hear it again. If the artwork on a page of a comicbook is beautiful, the reader may take as much time as he likes admiring it, and can even return later. On a DVD, a particularly bad scene can be...



You already know where I'm going with this; you've known since the title. So why don't you just skip the rest of this paragraph, okay? Don't worry, you won't miss anything. Anyhow, there's one medium intended for private viewing which is often as rigid as a movie experience. It's sort of ironic, considering that this medium is seen by so many people as the most interactive medium of them all. Why are games not given equal treatment? Anyone who's ever played an RPG knows of the dreaded final scene, a ten-minute-long cutscene which can never be skipped, no matter how many times you're forced to replay that final boss. Everyone knows that you can only stop playing when the game tells you you may. Everyone knows that if you've missed a line of dialogue, you'll never hear it again.

This functionality must be added to the gameplaying experience. It must be an integral part of the controller's design, and supported by the console's basic functions.

In-game work-arounds have been found, of course. It is a fairly common practice to store all full-motion video cutscenes in a menu for later viewing. When I was playing Knights of the Old Republic and my monitor started acting up mid-cutscene, this was very helpful. Still, it only works for FMV; what if I want to replay one of the levels of a completely linear game? Fahrenheit went even farther, and in addition to including all minigames in a side menu, it allowed the player to go back to any scene he's been in and play from there. It was most appreciated.

Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door, which I've just played recently, has a nice solution to the problem of missing a line of dialogue- all speech is in text, which can be rolled back by pressing the Z button. And Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time gives flow control for even gaming challenges, by allowing the player to rewind time when he messes up.

But none of these additions are perfect. Prince of Persia's rewind feature is a central part of its gameplay, and is widely seen as a gimmick, not to be repeated in any other games. So too with Fahrenheit's scene selection, seen as a gimmick increasing the game's connection to film. Paper Mario's rewind only works for text (not NPC actions), and even then not perfectly: It only goes back as far as the beginning of the current "block" of text, so if the character is responding to something, you can't go back to the other person's statement to see what he is responding to. Also, it is not immediately apparent that this ability is given, because to introduce it at the beginning of the game would pull you out of the experience. Instead, the feature is explained to the player through one of the game's fourth-wall-breaking tips. The storing of cut-scenes is commendable, but still there is no accounting for anything else in the game, and there is usually not even a fast-forward and rewind.

To make matters worse, not one of these solutions solves the whole problem. When the problem is handed to the gamists to solve, how could it be? They are much more concerned with making their game than they are with the technical specifics of the experience, as they should be. So they introduce only one or two features (as much as they think will not be intrusive) and call it a day. But there are so many features that players need! Thankfully, we do have one useful flow control feature- the pause button. Now, for reasons beyond my comprehension, it's never actually called the pause button, it's never actually marked with the pause symbol familiar to us all. Instead, it's called "Start" or "Select" or some other silly name. Even this button is not perfect: many games use a timer to count game time, but do not pause the timer when the game is paused. But that's just nitpicking, really- I suppose I should be thankful that this feature is in gamism at all.

Let's talk about the buttons that should be there but aren't.

Back

The first button I propose is a "next scene" button. It would of course be up to the game designer how to utilize this button, but I suspect the mere presence of such a button would give players the expectation (which must then be acted on by the gamists) that it could be used. There are several ways this could work. The most conservative approach is to allow its use only in replaying either the game in whole or a particular scene (if the player has lost), at which point it will be used to skip cutscenes. The most radical approach would be giving the player the ability to use it at any point, to skip not only cutscenes but gameplay challenges as well. Most games would be somewhere in the middle.

The second button needed is the rewind button. Now, the ability to rewind gameplay would be very controversial, so such an implementation would be up to the programmer to pull off if he likes. Instead, most games would use a specialized chip (built into the console itself) to record everything that happens in the game, up to around, say, five minutes. After that, it starts writing over the old recording. So if you rewind, what the game's actually doing is switching display to a video, which shows what the player has just been through. This chip would not discriminate between cutscenes, text, speech, and gameplay; it would just record (except when the game is paused). I'm sure you see the usefulness of this simple addition, whether to see something you missed for whatever reason, or to admire your own skill, etc.

To go along with the rewind button would obviously be the fast-forward button. In the replay video, it would act the way you'd expect from a video fast-forward button up to the point it reaches the game itself again. At that point, it's up to the programmer to decide what it does, and I can think of a few very good uses. Very often in a game, I find myself pressing "B" mindlessly through a block of dialogue, because I've heard it before and would like to get to the point. So I think it would work very well for speeding up dialogue, though it would then have to record the video in double-time so that it doesn't look strange going back to read it again (if necessary). It could also work in FMV cutscenes, if the gamist doesn't want to simply use a "next scene" feature or if the player wants to go forward only a little bit.

To conclude, we gamers desperately need the ability to control the flow of our games on occasion, and it's not too difficult to pull off. So I can only conclude that either console creators are lazy, or just stupid. Well, here's a new generation of consoles coming up, with brand new controllers and internal architecture- here's their chance!

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If it's not a bad idea, and it's never been done before, then it is a great idea- do it.


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Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Gamism Theory

Gamism is, in its ideal state, the whole of entertainment, plus the whole of art, presented in a digital medium. (See Semantics, Semantics, Part 2.) In the remainder of this post, I will be referring to this absolute gamism, and not the current sad state of affairs, when I talk about "gamism". In other words, this new system of classification aims to be applicable to all Forms, and not only those currently considered by the general public to be "videogames".

But first: What is a Form? A Form is a discipline used for the creation of individual works. Each Form contains native design elements, which are the units the game is made out of. The recognition of particular design elements is subjective, and is usually open to interpretation. For example, if a platformer asks the player to jump from one platform to one of two others, it can be seen as containing nothing more than animation and input, or it can be seen as containing a "risk/reward cycle", or it can be seen as a small part of the world design, or the decision of which platform to jump to can be seen as a puzzle. Very often, isolated design elements can be seen as individual works themselves, and analyzed accordingly. For instance, world design and puzzle design are both Forms in their own right, yet each can be contained within a larger work as nothing more than a single element of the design.

I will discuss several separations between different types of Forms*------- (The most famous is the divide between "forms of art" and "forms of entertainment", but I won't get into that here.), but the first distinction I must make is between "simple Forms" and "complex Forms". A simple Form's design elements contain one "dominant element", with all the rest being "subordinate elements" which serve the dominant element. For example, the exploration Form's dominant element is world design, and any other elements, such as puzzles, music, or interface all (in theory) serve the world design. Therefore, exploration is a simple Form. A complex Form is one which has not one dominant element, but several which complement each other. For example, film contains both video and audio as design elements, but they complement each other by each providing an aspect of the experience which the other could not.

Every design element produces some sort of value for the player - I call this content. Content can be a burst of adrenaline, or world design, or engaging the mind, or frustration, or sound, or control, or just about anything else you think has a value. The "primary content" of a game is the content of its dominant design element, and "supportive content" is the content of its subordinate elements. Story is a special type of content because it is made up of the combination of other contents. If you follow one emotion with another emotion, that's a basic kind of story. A story of some sort (literal or more vague) will always be created in the mind of the player even if no story is intended by the gamist, because that is the result of the combination of design elements present. So in a complex Form with no single dominant design element, the primary content is the story produced by the game's elements.

Sometimes a game contains secondary content (and with it a second set of priorities), in addition to the primary content inherited from its Form. Almost always, such a game can be expressed as "a X serving the purpose of a Y". For example, The Sims is a simulation serving the purpose of a dollhouse. It follows all the traditional rules of the simulation Form (a simple Form) including using the dominant design element of rules for addictive gameplay, but it also inherits the dollhouse's dominant element, which is the reflection of day-to-day life. So its primary content is the addictiveness of its micromanagement, and its secondary content is its depiction of ordinary life using doll-like characters. When a complex Form, such as the RPG, follows this model, the foreign dominant design element takes the place of primary content, since there is no native dominant element to take precedence. For example: Pokémon is an RPG serving the purpose of a collectible series such as sports cards. Normally, an RPG's primary content would be story, since as a complex Form there is no single dominant element. But in this case, there is a foreign element to take precedence; Therefore, Pokémon's primary content is collectibility.
How does it help to know which content is primary?
The primary content (and secondary content, if there is any) is the main source of the game's identity in the mind of the player. As such, it is usually best to focus artistic efforts on the primary content more so than the supportive content so that the game stands out and creates an identity for itself. This knowledge can also help in the creation of sequels; the primary content is the only part of the game which absolutely must change or improve from original to sequel so that it does not become redundant.


Additional laws and terminology

Some Forms are fully contained in larger Forms. For instance, as Rayman 2 proved, the platformer is part of a more general Form (which I have no name for) which includes such games as Ball Revamped. The larger Form is called a "parent Form", and the smaller one a "sub-Form". It is valid, though pointless, to view all of gamism as one parent Form with a tremendous number of sub-Forms.
The term "Form" should not be mistaken with "genre", which is the classification of the style of a game's primary content.

A "strong Form" is one whose dominant design element is flexible enough to allow for many different genres, while a "weak Form" is one whose dominant element isn't. The terms should generally be used to deal with small sub-Forms, since almost every reasonably large Form is strong.

If one segment of supportive content is a short interactive game, and it is not native to the Form of the containing work, then it can be called a "minigame". A noninteractive segment, under exactly the same circumstances, is called a "cutscene" or "transition". I don't know why such a silly distinction is made, but it is, and this issue is too trivial to be worth fighting over, so I accept this terminology. A minigame/transition has no impact whatsoever on its container's classification.

Forms evolve over time, gaining new rules and breaking old ones. Occasionally, the native elements of a Form evolve to the point where they can be isolated and expanded upon as new Forms. This new Form can be called a "derivative" of the complex Form it broke off from. For example, the exploration segments of the RPG evolved until there were clear traditions for the specific exploration of towns (as opposed to other areas). This design element broke off into the "communication-game" Form with Animal Crossing. We can say that the communication-game Form is an RPG-derivative.

A "hybrid" is the result of combining the design elements of two separate Forms. For example, David Cage's Fahrenheit is an adventure-film hybrid, since it takes elements from both the adventure (heavy level of scripting activated by player input, interactive dialogue trees, object selection, etc.) and film (acting, choreography, camera movement).

3 Comments:

 Mory said:

The line of thought which led up to the ideas in this post can be seen in this post on the Tale of Tales forum:

Primary Content

 Mory said:

The distinction between a hybrid and a game with secondary content is a bit fuzzy to me. But here's the idea: If the elements of a game are all native to its Form, but it's got a different focus, then that focus is secondary content. If it's got elements which didn't evolve as a part of its Form, then it's a hybrid.

 Mory said:

I've totally rewritten the definition of primary content, and adjusted the rest of the post accordingly. It's still messy, but it sort of makes sense now.

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Monday, January 30, 2006

Ready, Though Unworthy

Here I am, accepting upon myself the challenge of creating an all-purpose classification system for gamism, though I have no expertise, no experience, and only the teensiest bit of wisdom. I may say this is an advantage: Everyone else looks at gamism with the eyes of the Industry, fogged with the misconceptions and prejudices which are sadly so common, while I can see clearly by virtue of knowing nothing at all.

But who am I kidding?- My views are just as biased as anyone else's. And I doubt very much if actually having a game or two under my belt would harm my eagerness to disagree with such unanimous opinions. It could only do good. So why do I bother to try at this early stage? Because it is time. It is time because the blog says so.

More critically: I have waited too long already, and soon I will have many new experiences to assess. How does the simple playing of a game fit in with my next identity? If I am serious about becoming a gamist, then I must be ready to approach these games from a gamist's perspective.

This is the hour of judgment. My past lies in childhood. My future lies in gamism. Where do I stand in the present? Am I first a child, or a gamist? I can hide behind my inadequacies and say "Tomorrow I will be ready!", or I can accept my inadequacies and move forward regardless. No matter when I choose to flip the priorities, it will be too soon. I have to face it: The task I see for myself is bigger than anyone would support if they understood its magnitude. They would say: "Think small. Gain wisdom from professors and knowledge from repetition and drudgery. Do not try this by yourself; it cannot be done."

I cannot argue with such a sentiment, because I know that if someone were to speak those words to me, he'd be right. How can I rationally expect to be capable of making an artistic virtual character, when even the greatest gamists have never done so before? How can I expect to be capable of single-handedly reinventing the platformer in the image of music and dance? How can I expect to craft a good role-playing game, when even massive teams of experts with seemingly unlimited budgets can't get it right? How can I expect...? Well, I can't. I can't rationally expect to achieve anything at all. But what the heck- rationality is overrated anyway.

I believe that the dream will start when I begin to accept the role, not vice versa. Months ago, I considered proposing a classification system, and I concluded it was too big. Now I am ready to take on that task. So while I am not prepared for anything like this, while I have many questions and few answers, while I feel certain that there is no intelligent man on Earth who will accept my theories, I will chase the dream. Who am I doing this for, if not for the public? I do this as a gift to the child. I begin this as a fulfillment of the promise I made to myself. I will end this as a gamist.

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Sunday, January 29, 2006

Tapestry Thread: WHAM!

Acceleration...
Since a week or two ago, I've been watching J. Michael Straczynski's magnum opus, the science-fiction TV show Babylon 5. It's been a long time since I last saw any B5 episodes, and I've never actually seen the story in full, from start to finish, until now. The show feels unrefined: it often has horrendous acting, and there is the occasional unbearable plotline. Worse, it too often has sudden changes in cast for no good reason, and all sorts of external problems in the making of the show pushed the story very far from the perfection it might have been hoped to aim for. But none of that matters too much; it's the most brilliant show (SF or otherwise) I've ever known. Little details which seem insignificant prove to be hints; details which seem to be hints prove to be red herrings. A show which at first glance seems to be a simple Star Trek rip-off proves to be a classic in its own right.

For the past week, I've been analyzing what I have of my musical composition Variations on V.O.V.. It's been a long time since I set aside the piece, and I never did get around to finishing it. The work feels unrefined: it can get very hard on the ears, and its shifts in style and tone can be much too abrupt and contrived. But none of that mattered to me too much as I wrote it- I was aiming for nothing less than structural perfection, not anything as trivial as aesthetic value. Every note is connected intimately to every other note; every seemingly random shift in key, tone, musical style, and even philosophy is part of the larger pattern.
The word becomes reason.
Smilie has not been going so well. When I'm writing a blog post, the tricky part is getting started. The tricky part is coming up with the first piece of the puzzle. It might take hours or even weeks to find that piece. But once I find that piece, everything else tends to fall into place naturally. Sure, there is a lot of time and effort involved, but it is spent travelling on the path I have already laid out- Even if that path branches into infinite directions, I always know I will eventually get to where I should be. Smilie is not like this. I have started, and I've decided on a notation system to use, and just continuing takes an obscene amount of frustration. This is not a native language for me, this language of complex and thorough logic. I'm more comfortable with random associations.

I ran into a small problem. The sixth variation needed to repeat the theme four times in completely different styles, with an extra recitation of the theme in between each style bridging the gap. Next, the seventh variation would include two measures of improvisation. Sounded perfect on paper. And it was. Thinking about shifting between styles is no big deal. Thinking about somehow writing in rules for an improvised section which will flow with the rest of the rigidly-defined piece is no big deal.

I agreed with Benjy that it would behoove me to do chores around the house. I pictured the monotony of doing dishes, and thought: No big deal. I'm sure it wouldn't be a big deal. My mother has been gone for a week now. My father said I'd be doing dishes. I thought: No big deal. It's in the mind.
No time to think, no time to look ahead...
For months I've been playing around with the area between musical composition and improvisation, which has led to my Improvised Sonata in three movements. If I strive for perfection, I lose spontaneity. Without spontaneity, improvisation is worthless. Perfection has no depth. An improvised course with branching paths I invent as I go along- now that's deep. This is my new philosophy, which follows a reason and pattern which I do not care to understand.

My mother went to Florida for the week to celebrate her father's eightieth birthday. This is considered a milestone for some reason. I made a CD of my music, including a rendition of the Improvised Sonata, as a birthday present. I'd never recorded my music before; the demands of the microphone pushed me to improve my playing. I didn't expect her leave to be a big deal, and it hasn't been. I do my own laundry. My father never seriously asked me to do the dishes, for which I have relief but no brakes. Acceleration is in the mind. I was starting to lose my grip.

I looked over the piece, and saw pure genius. With the exception of one or two careless mistakes which were easily corrected, every note had purpose. How could I, a chaotic human mind, possibly complete this image of perfection? I had been unable to do it before. But as I stood and considered, a path appeared before me. The seventh variation required an understanding of improvisation, which I now possess, and an understanding of gamistic notation, which lies just ahead.
The story - motivation; interpretation of the thread...
The blog would be celebrating its 39th post. What was the first piece to the puzzle? Once I had that, everything else would fall into place.

I haven't played any videogames in a while; it's impossible to get any for a good price here in Israel; I've been waiting for an opportunity.

The sixth variation required only velocity and the spontaneity to deal with obstacles. I agreed to settle for mere brilliance, to choose artistry over perfection.

The house has been silent and darkened. The atmosphere demands progress.
Ordered: Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, Donkey Kong: Jungle Beat, Luigi's Mansion, LEGO Star Wars, Super Monkey Ball, Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, Metroid II: Return of Samus

My mother will return in two days.

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Friday, January 27, 2006

And so it begins...

Check this out.



Did you check? Seriously, watch it, then come back here.





It's been a very long time since a game trailer excited me this much. You could argue that it's not a game, but that's sort of the point. The PSP has already been used for movies and recorded music in addition to various interactive Forms, all with the same interface and the same disc format. That in itself is already the first step toward the convergence revolution. Here's the second. I don't know what to say, mainly because this project in itself is so exciting that any words would seem redundant. But I'll try to explain why this comic book is the best thing to ever happen to gamism.

Since the invention of videogames, their place in the larger realm of art was clear to the world: movies are one art form, novels are one art form, dance is one art form, sculpture is one art form, and videogames are a silly form of time-killing. Games have nothing to do with all those other Forms, and should be kept as far from them as possible. Sadly, I have seen this division promoted most by the supporters of videogames: whenever a game fails to be sufficiently interactive, they dismiss it as "not good as a game", or at best "not really a game".

Now, my views on what constitutes a game are considerably broader. I see this comic as a usage of gamism to push an old Form in a new direction- exactly the sort of game that gamism itself was created for. The purpose of gamism is to broaden the potential for art, and that is precisely what this does. It may not be true sequential art (or it may be; all I'm going by is this trailer), but it takes the experience of reading a comic book, adds the potential of gamism, and comes out with something much stronger. 3D shots, animation, sound effects, and all while giving the player control over the reading. This is something that no medium but gamism could allow. And so here is a game which pushes past the boundaries, which goes back to ground very often tread upon before and finds that there is an entire world there never noticed before.

There are still questions- of course there are still questions. Can the player reread a section several times? (It would be unwise to fail to inherit all the Form's strengths before moving on.) More importantly, will the public appreciate what they are getting? I still feel that it is premature for convergence. Not everyone has a gaming system; the market is splintered; these systems are made for obsolescence. But it appears that Kojima is ahead of his time. It figures- Metal Gear Solid itself was a large step toward convergence, in its treatment of stealth, film, and audio drama as equals under gamism. But this is truly revolutionary. I am pretty sure the public isn't ready. They'll see it as one of Kojima's little quirks, not a valid and even necessary step forward.

But let's ignore all that for a moment. Let's say that the convergence aspect of the great revolution is achievable today. Even if the public is ready, gamists aren't. With our current terminology, comics must be distinguished from games simply because there's no other way to put it! We don't even know how to classify the game Metal Gear Solid yet! (Stealth is only a third of it.) And what will happen when a comic book comes along with branching paths? Will comic connoisseurs have any idea what's going on? Our methods of thinking about art and entertainment are obsolete. We need new ideas to replace them which revolve around gamism. And if visionaries like Kojima are going to push forward so soon, we need them fast.

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Thursday, January 26, 2006

$7.4 Billion

I have no reason to know anything at all about animation, so if you're looking for an informed opinion, look elsewhere. But this event is so historic that I can't pass up a chance to write about it.

I'm referring, of course, to Disney's acquisition of Pixar. Since, as implied, I have no personal knowledge of the field but for what I read on the internet and what I see in theaters, I will have to (for once) agree with the masses: This is the best thing to happen to Disney for a decade. They desperately need the paradigm shift they might get from bringing John Lasseter (and Steve Jobs and Ed Catmull) into the business. People are asking whether it's really worth all that money, but look at what Disney's released in the past few years. With a few rare exceptions (Treasure Planet and Lilo & Stich were both gems.), it's all been trash. Whatever the cost, Disney desperately needs to be fixed. Who better to do it than the guys responsible for some of the greatest works of animation of our time?

Lasseter's new position sounds like something out of a Roald Dahl book. As soon as they make friends with the big, influential character at the end, suddenly he's running the whole empire. The part which really strikes me as Dahl-esque is the part where he reports directly to Bob Iger with new ideas for theme park rides. Am I the only one who is reminded of The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me at this point? How often do you come across such a happy ending (or beginning, depending on how you look at it) in capitalist businesses? Here's a man who's spent his life striving for all sorts of silly, childish, beautiful things, and here he is being handed the mightiest (potential) factory of wonders in history on a celluloid platter. Wow- what a life.

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Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Second Lasagna

I just made a lasagna for our supper. Normally our mother makes supper, but she's in America for the week. Lasagna's the only food I've cared enough about to learn how to make, so lasagna it is. It will be a great meal, I'm sure. I've made lasagnas many times before, and it almost always starts with me messing up. For example, there was one time when I somehow got it into my head that I was supposed to be making two lasagnas when there were clearly only enough noodles for one.

Well, this time, I wanted to make a good lasagna. (Of course, I always start that way, so this says nothing.) I was careful about which brand of tomato sauce I chose to use; I was careful to make sure that there was enough of all the ingredients; I was careful to make sure that the cottage cheese was okay, despite the fact that it was a day past expiration date and I couldn't smell it because my nose is so stuffy because I've had a cold for the past few days. Then I poured half of the cottage cheese on top of the tomato sauce.

Right- the noodles. Okay, I'm an idiot.
I blamed it on the cold.

Then there's the cheese. I hate that part. Grating a chunk of cheese is so unnatural, you know? The tedium drives me crazy. Wait, I've gotta go down to check if the lasagna's ready.

Okay, not ready. Where was I?- oh right, the cheese. It just sort of goes on and on and on and on. I'm very slow at grating cheese. And there's really not too much to think about while you're doing- it's just up, down, up, down. Blah.

Then there's the smell when it's almost done; the smell is incredible. It retroactively justifies the creation.

I've just eaten it. How was it? Excellent. At least, I imagined it was. Truth is, I could barely taste it.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

It's worth pointing out that this is coming right after the first 74. The metaphor here is an excuse to never work, not a valid observation.

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They say there are few things more satisfying than a day spent working when that work is continually challenging yet achievable. Well, they say it more succinctly than that, but that's the gist of it.
It is now half-past midnight, and I spent the day working. I completely redid the notation system for Smilie, then spent hours upon hours working on all sorts of Blogger-related experiments. To top it all off, I invented a new type of post- the 74 Post, I'll call it. I played not a single videogame today.
I don't feel like I've achieved anything at all. I feel... empty.


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Monday, January 23, 2006

I've been workin' on the weblog, all the live-long day...

So whaddaya think? Ain't them tabs just fine? Oh, and I fixed the problem with the Lucida Sans Unicode font, so now some posts which didn't look right before now look fantastic!

And did you see that neat little Javascript trick I did with that link? No? Even better! Oh, I don't know what I'd ever do without Javascript. Okay, so I do know- I'd just not do any of these silly little gimmicks. But what fun would that be? Well, toodle-loo; I'm going to go have some more fun with the blog's design.

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Saturday, January 21, 2006

Tapestry Thread: Universal notation

Upon writing up the game design for Smilie, I ran into a small problem: I don't know how to write up a game design. Now, don't give me that line about how I don't need to work out all the details yet. Without a script of some sort, I'd program a line or two, say "I think this is good enough.", and stop. But if I spell out exactly how it should be, with no regard for exactly how it should be done, then I'll have a clear goal to work toward. In trying to implement the script, I will be forced to learn whatever skills are necessary to achieve that goal; chances are, those skills will be useful for many future games.

But how? How does one write a script for an interactive experience? It's helped by the fact that this will be more or less linear, albeit with branching paths. So I can start from the beginning and work my way forward from there. This is reasonable only because I'd already decided that it would only be a minute or two long. (I've been saying for months that branching linearity works best for short games.) Even so, I still had no idea where to start. I decided I'd make it up as I went along, and so I did. I settled on starting with classification, going on to the general concept in short, then straight into a blow-by-blow script from start to finish (numbered with a not-quite-effective system I made up). I chose to approach the script from the perspective of the player, rather than of the programmer, so that I could put myself into the shoes of the person for whom this character would have meaning. In any event, I was (and still am) eager to prove this notation useless as quickly as possible, so that I could find something more useful.

At the same time, Daniel Cook of Lost Garden invented his own notation system. Imagine that! I've been reading Cook's writings for about six months now, not because I've agreed with anything he's ever said, but because it gives me a fresh perspective which I am guaranteed to have never considered. His notation system relies on manipulating the player into feeling that he is being rewarded. I should have expected as much from someone whose views are based largely on the completely serious definition of videogames as "drugs". Since this has roughly zero to do with what I see in videogames, the staples of his notation system such as "buzz notes" and "reward channels" are completely inapplicable to what I'm doing here.

But it helped in two major ways. First, it pointed out certain should-have-been-obvious necessities, such as defining "verbs", which I can now integrate into Smilie's design document. Secondly, it sparked a debate among many other bloggers, some of which have more reasonable things to say. Sure, there are the pretentious ones like Raph Koster chiming in, but then there was this very simple comment from Ron Gilbert which caught me off guard, mainly because I should have realized it first:
It also seems that there are so many structures for so many different types of games that coming up with a unified system to cover them all is unrealistic.
That's the real problem, isn't it? I was looking only at the small task ahead of me right now, but past this I could get myself into big trouble. But here's a warning to keep me on the right track: I should not try to come up with a notation system which fits all types of games. In essence, to try would mean finding a system so universal that not only all the Industrial Forms, but music and dance as well (since they are no less a part of gamism) can all be expressed under it. Is such a system possible? I don't know. If it were, it would probably be extremely clumsy to use.

But think of the possibilities! With a unified notation system, music could finally be composed with branching paths! Dance and music could weave in and out of each other! And all manners of other dreamy things! But I have no answers. For the time being, I will focus on this task, and create a language suitable for virtual characters as I have been told.

2 Comments:

Blogger Picklebro said:

I disagree with your comments about the article at Lost Garden equating games with drugs.

I felt the article very accurately described a way to measure 'pleasure-pulses' if you will that occur as you are rewarded. I don't think everything about his system is perfect, but I think he's really onto something.

I do like your idea of arts intertwining like tapestry threads, though - and I'd be interested in seeing you flesh out a construct around those ideas.

 Mory said:

In the article I linked to in the post, Dan Cook (the writer of Lost Garden) wrote:

"Let's be blunt. Games are drugs."

I've been following his writing for a long time, and a good deal of the things he says are tied to that statement. The reason I can't relate with the "Buzz Note" concept in particular is that it assumes that these reward cycles are the basic units with which games should be made. I don't see that that is the case, because I am looking at the potential for art and not the potential for psychological drugs. But the fact that I've been following his blog for so long should tell you that I am well aware that he's onto something - just not something which I can agree with.


I smiled when I heard your interpretation of "Tapestry Thread". Actually, it is just a formal repetition of the idea I've stated in the past that there is a clear pattern to life. The tapestry is a common and well-known analogy for life from this perspective. As evidenced by the later "Tapestry Thread" post, I intend for this to be a recurring "feature" which serves for exposition. By examining one aspect of life and how that one metaphorical thread ties together several different recent events, I can celebrate the elegance of life even as I am trudging through heavy exposition which would otherwise be very boring.

This first TT post deals with the specific thread of notation, and pointing out the elegance of such a debate starting on the web just as I was struggling with these issues myself. The second TT post deals with accelerated change, and how this pattern can be seen in no less than five nearly simultaneous events.

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Friday, January 20, 2006

Happy 39th post!

39th? Now that's weird. What's so special about 39?
Where do you see- oh, "Happy-". Right.
I mean, maybe a fortieth post, but why-
Why a fortieth post?
Well, it's a multiple of ten...
Thirty-nine's a multiple of thirteen.
Say, you want some coffee?
Well, I think it's ridiculous. Why are you wasting your time here, anyway? Go do something useful. I'm leaving.
Error: no postday party detected. Please correct.
Postday party? This is seriously fucked up. All for a 39th-
dfs%osa!-244.5no37sjkj~presents ERROR ERROR @imx.39th...
*AHEM*


Thank you.

Precisely 39 posts ago,
*sniff*
this blog didn't exist. Now it does, and I'm sure we're all very thankful.
Hear! Hear!
Shut up, will you?
Personally, I can't see how Mory can continue like this, without acknowledging the radical changes to his lifestyle which he went on about four posts ago.
Well, he mentioned that Smilie thing.
We've come a long way. But we can go farther! And so, for this special postday, I declare
Okay, now I'm really leaving.
that I will change my life, as promised,
Ooh, this ought to be good.
starting maybe in a few days.
Boo! Hypocrite!
Umm, that's all. Bye now!
What a lousy speech.

2 Comments:

Blogger Betzalel said:

I think you should make it more clear why this is such a happy occasion. I didn't realize it until I took a second look at the date...

 Mory said:

You're missing the point. 39 posts is the occasion. After all, how often does one reach a 39th post? Only once in a lifetime! The date is irrelevant.

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Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Worth the paper

I don't understand newspapers. Oh, the news itself is very straightforward. A bland and calculated recitation of events. A lot of mundane politics. If you really care, you can look at everything they say and see a clear agenda, but there's no reason to care since that agenda is always the same. There are the left-wing newspapers, and there are the right-wing newspapers. In general, readers seem to pick a newspaper based on their own positions, so that they can keep their glasses intact and have the news filtered through. When I sit down to read a newspaper, I know more or less what I'm going to get based on the newspaper's position. It's predictable. It's boring.

But wait a minute- why should it be boring? Politics can be fascinating. I'm watching the TV show Babylon 5 now, which is at its best when it's dealing with fictional politics, and it's riveting. Never mind the differences between film and the written word; my point is, it's entertaining to see all the different sides of these political games.

Anyhow, we all know the story of the newspaper. The newspaper itself would like to be seen as the sole guardian of the objective truth. The readers, on the other hand, like to think of the newspaper as a corrupt manipulator of public opinion. These are their roles: the newspaper tries to get exclusive content and the most direct headlines; the readers criticize the newspaper for presenting a view they disagree with (and not adequately supporting their own positions) until the newspaper makes some concessions in the way of diversity in writers.

Here's the part I don't understand. I've heard the tales of how capitalism corrupted the Game Industry; I've heard of all the cutthroat corporations out there looking to make as much money as possible. In all these cases, the pursuit of as much money as possible pushed the companies in the wrong direction. Now take newspapers. If they were looking to get as much money as possible, they'd try to make their articles as entertaining as possible to read, to build a loyal readership. Then they'd want to reward that readership in the long-term, so that they would recommend the paper to their friends. This seems to be one of the few businesses where a attitude of "Let's make as much money as humanly possible!" can only do good. And here the editors are idealists. What gives?

Why do these editors pursue one agenda consistently? Wouldn't it be much more entertaining to keep the reader guessing? You arrange the news one day so that all the writers are trying to convince the reader that one side is right, and then a week later -A twist!- have a day devoted to making them look both incompetent and evil. Leave out certain details so the reader can fill them in in his head; Put in other details that go against the spirit of the rest of the article.

The newspaper should be as entertaining as a dramatic TV show; why isn't it?

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Friday, January 06, 2006

The Dream Cheese 740 Enhanced Computer Mouse!

Tired of your old plain vanilla PC mouse?
Ummm..
Of course you are! The mouse hasn't changed in decades! Look at this boring piece of plastic you're using: Two buttons in the front which have only two possible settings: "Unpressed" and "Pressed". This is as primitive as your keyboard!
And what's the problem-
So old-fashioned! And then this scroll wheel: It can only scroll in one dimension! And it's uncomfortable to use, and it's downright ugly.
Hey, it works, doesn't-
Not well, no. It's tedious to keep flicking it around; it's imprecise. And it's uncomfortable- try scrolling through a fifty-page document, and by the end your middle finger will be sore! And then there's the shape of the whole thing- it's impossible to get a good grip!

But no longer! Now, thanks to the revolutionary Dream Cheese 740 Enhanced Computer Mouse, these old problems can be left behind forever! With its innovative and groundbreaking design, you can access your computer like never before. You can enjoy faster and more precise navigation, plus an unparallelled level of customizability which will allow you to control your computer exactly as you want. The top of the line features of the Dream Cheese 740 include:
  • A pressure-sensitive touch screen for standard mouse clicks, making application-specific commands available at the smallest touch
  • Patented TrueScroll™ analog joystick technology for fast, precise and comfortable scrolling in two dimensions
  • Keyboard-replacement capability for one-handed control of all and any computer activity
  • Ultra-sensitive optical sensor for accurate movement on virtually any surface
  • Replaceable shell to allow for any hand size, making using a computer as comfortable and natural as possible for anyone*
    Extra shells not included.
  • Four pressure-sensitive buttons for-
Why pressure-sensitive?
Because pressure-sensitive is cool, that's why. The Dream Cheese 740 has a stylish de-
Boy, it looks dorky-
stylish design, combining the familiar computer mouse appearance with a radical, trend-setting commitment to innovation: By featuring a shape which curves downwards for all but the thumb and index finger, it gives unparalleled grip for the ultimate precision in mouse movement.
Well, that's sort of cool, but all this other stuff- it sounds expensive. How much does it cost?
And it's worth every penny! Buy the Dream Cheese 740 Enhanced Computer Mouse today!




How to use your Dream Cheese 740
For standard clicks and double-clicks, simply tap or double-tap on the touch pad beneath your index finger. For more advanced functions such as copy, paste, undo, or delete, enter the appropriate gesture or letter into the touch pad, as demonstrated in diagram 3.

Example: To copy text, first select the text by tapping and dragging (and scrolling, if necessary). Then, move the cursor over the selected text draw a "C" on the touch pad, and the text will be copied.
Alternatively, do not select any text, but move over a text field or document and draw a "C" on the touch pad. This will copy all text within the text field or document.

For a full list of gestures, see Page 5.
For instructions on creating custom gestures using the included software, see Page 12.

Holding Button 3 (diagram 5) activates a small menu revealing all possible gestures on the cursor's current position.


Using the TrueScroll™ Thumb Stick
When the cursor is above a document too large for the window it is in, the thumb stick is used to scroll through the document in any direction. The TrueScroll™ thumb stick is sensitive to different levels of movement, so pushing it very gently will scroll slowly, and pushing it all the way will scroll more quickly. (See Page 12 to learn how to customize mouse and thumb stick sensitivity using included software.) When the cursor is not above a scrollable environment, the thumb stick will serve as an analog replacement for the keyboard's arrow keys.

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Thursday, December 29, 2005

Presents / Self Defense

Channukah is called the festival of lights. Light has always symbolized good; darkness has always symbolized evil.

It's not really so clear cut, you know. Too much light can blind. Light in the wrong place can distract. I hate it when someone turns on a light in the computer room- suddenly there's a glare on the screen, and I can't make out the pictures as easily. Or some Shabbats I might be trying to read a book while lying on the couch as the lights on the ceiling shine right into my eyes. Light can be bad.

And I don't know about you, but I love a good amount of darkness. Shadows add mystery and atmosphere; uncertainty inspires the mind. Back when I used to play on an electronic piano in an empty room as a matter of routine, I loved to shut the lights off altogether, to free myself from any distractions, to focus on the sounds. In the dark, one can appreciate the fine nuances of color and movement and sound. The light is empty by comparison.

You might try to be more specific: Light makes information visible- the light of truth. But that's still oversimplifying. If you want to see the bigger picture, to see the stars far away and understand how we fit in with them, you need darkness. Light may give knowledge, but only darkness gives wisdom.

And then we get presents. Where does this fit in? Well, I'm quite sure I don't know. As far as I can tell, the only connection to the Light/Darkness theme is that when the present is wrapped, the inside is dark, and when it's unwrapped, the... oh, never mind.

The presents I've gotten so far this year have shed a lot of light on my parents. On the first night I was graciously given the Star Wars: Episode III DVD. Excellent movie, best of the series, in fact. Only problem is the acting and the dialogue and- what's that? Oh, you're right- this has nothing at all to do with what I was saying. In any case, you can see that this is a most agreeable tradition.

So what was I saying again?- Oh, right!- the presents I hadn't specifically asked my parents for. The first was a wallet. I didn't know quite what to make of that. I already have a wallet, and I'm rather fond of it. Why would my parents demand that I change wallets? Are they really so desperate to feel like they're doing something to change me? Of course not, of course not. It was a mix-up, nothing more. I shouldn't read too much into it.

Then I opened a pair of slippers. My father hates it when I come to the dinner table on Friday night barefoot, and I love to go barefoot. They actually got me a pair of slippers last Channukah. I never wore those because they were uncomfortable, because I preferred to go barefoot, and because the backs were open, which led to them constantly falling off. Well, they got me another pair, as I said. Guess what!- It's almost exactly the same as the old pair! Just as uncomfortable, and these too have open backs. I was annoyed, and didn't do a very good job of containing it, but at the same time I felt sorry. Obviously my parents had looked hard for something they could get me, and they didn't remember that I had no desire for slippers, least of all those kind of slippers. They made a simple mistake, right? No need to punish them for it.

Today my father came home with a dresser. My parents both hate the way I throw my clean clothes into a giant pile where they're all easily retrievable. My father's been looking into getting me a dresser for a long time now. For every time over the past few months he's asked me what kind of dresser I'd like I told him three times that I would like no dresser. I hate that kind of trick question, don't you? Anyhow, he brings home this dresser and proceeds to assemble it in my room. My mother explained that it's not really a dresser because it's ridiculously high, and because it looks so hideous it demands the attention of everyone in the room, and because it has open baskets with bars which remind me not so pleasantly of the bars of an elementary school window. Actually, I added in those reasons myself just to give some hint of a valid theoretical excuse for not calling it a dresser. It is a dresser. And I really don't want it. And my father's already moved all my clothes into this monstrosity.

[sigh]
:-(



But why should I care about all that? I'm the only one in the house at the moment. The wallet will stay out of my pocket. The slippers will stay off my feet. And the dresser will stay out of my room. My parents are out right now. For the moment, darkness prevails!


[sigh]
:-)




Let's talk about something more important- I have an idea for a game that I could conceivably pull off! I'll call it "Smilie", because it'll be a virtual character which is a smilie! Sounds cool, right? The trouble before was I was looking for possible games from the enlightened perspective of the current Industrial philosophy of gamism, but those aren't really worth making unless they have some deeper artistic purpose- you know, some hidden meaning or something. Something to subvert the light of others to reflect my own inner darkness. But why bother trying? I don't need their Forms and their approaches- I can do my own things! If I can pull this off (and I think I can!), "Smilie" will be completely unmarketable, completely unorthodox, very short, and will impress no one. No deeper meaning here- just an adorable character given life.

It'll be a completely innocent character- like kittens! It won't understand, for instance, that the cursor is not something to be eaten. And it won't care what you want from it- it'll do its own thing. That kind of innocence is the ideal, no? Now all I need to develop is a language of interactivity to express this ideal. I'm starting on that now. I think if I were to look up into the dark sky right now, I'd see my smilie winking at me.

;-)





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Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Monday, May 11, 2015

The Fundamental Interconnectedness of All Things, Part Two

I always come back here when I want to feel that I'm capable of things. There was a direction. An ending will do that. Knowing that you're going toward something means everything along the way matters.

Conversely, if there's no ending, then nothing matters at all. Declaring yourself part of something larger than yourself
Who am I, really? And if I am that, what does that mean? Where do I belong, and how do I get there? Am I myself? Is "myself" a thing that means something? If I were several people, who would they be? How long would it take to meet myself? When I meet myself, will I have achieved everything possible for the person that is me? What are the steps I need to take to be in the right mindset to be capable of doing things? What if I am never capable of doing things? What things are worth doing? Why do people do things that aren't worth doing? How can the answers to all these questions be found in science-fiction TV shows? Is anything at all a source of profound meaning? If I talk for several years, will meaning emerge regardless of whether any was there to begin with?
only counts for anything when you're in it for the long haul. If you don't have the patience and persistence, it's nothing but bluster.

All the world's a stage!


What separates a good actor from a bad actor is preparation. If you get on stage and aren't in the appropriate mindset, haven't made sufficient plans, you can be clever enough to fool people but you can't have any authenticity. There's nothing there. You're just saying words that don't mean anything, because they don't mean anything to you.

I'm not.

"How small a thought it takes to fill a whole life"
-Ludwig Wittgenstein


If I had gotten far enough to worry about coming up with a title, I might have called it "Ode to School". The sole line of music I wrote could just as easily have been composed by a primitive computer program. It followed basic music theory to a Z: no moving fifths, no moving octaves, precise four part harmony. It refused to show the slightest hint of ambition, moving those voices no more than absolutely necessary. It had no melody, and a plodding pace. It felt like it would go on forever, and in those six bars of music was packed an eternity of misery. No, that's not really accurate- an eternity was packed into each note. By the third note, any listener would be in agony. ---------------
I . . . V65 . . . I . . .
There were no surprises, no emotion but the bottled kind, no enthusiasm.

It must have been about a year ago when I sat down to calculate out a tune to provide the optimal amount of misery. It was a perfect musical representation of what I felt about my life at the time. I had a plan for the piece, a good one: I would drone on for much too much time, and then introduce some more interesting elements slowly, as if the character is trying to escape his fate. By the end of the piece, there would be no hint left of the dreary existence at the beginning. Nice message, don't you think? But there was no motion, and I had to sustain the beginning for at least a minute or two without any acceleration, or else the ending would mean nothing. I gave up after six measly bars of stillness and misery, rather than following through to the end of a satisfying masterpiece of destruction and happiness.


I can vividly recall running around the track in gym class with the rest of my grade. There was a clear goal, and we all did it together. The goal was to run until we reached the same point we had come from, then do the whole thing again. And again. There was an eternity in every lap- no, every step. After three steps, I was in agony. ----------
Left . . . Right . . . Left . . .
We did this routine every week.

It was so mindless, so tedious. I had to think of something -anything- to preserve my sanity.

I can't do this.
Yes you can!
No, my legs are aching so much...
Stop thinking about your legs! Think of games!
Games... Maybe "Preparation for the Real World" could have a little minigame representing the brutality of gym classes....
None of that! Try thinking of... of...
Of what? You know, I think I'm just going to faint. A faint would be nice- it would get me out of having to keep running. How do I faint? Is there a particular method?
I don't think so.
Faint... faint... please faint.... This isn't working.
A blog! You know, you said that might be a good idea. Think of that!
They're all running in the same direction. It doesn't actually get anywhere; it just goes right back where it started. They're just following what the teacher said- there's no room for any personality.
No, the blog! Get back to the blog!
Oh, yeah. I could just write whatever I like. That would be nice. I think I'll stop running now.
No, keep going! Keep going! You can do it!
Why should I? Why should I do what everyone else does?
Anyway...
The blog. I need a title. Something that reflects me. Who am I, really?



Who am I, really?

When I'm next to a pessimist, I'm cheerful.
When I'm next to an optimist, I'm depressed.
When I'm next to someone serious, I'm a complete nutcase.
When I'm next to someone nutty, I'm calm and controlled.
I love to argue.
I hate to agree.
If there are two sides to any argument, I'll find a third.
When faced with no opportunity for change, I love change.
When faced with every opportunity for change, I fear it.
When with adults I aim to act like I'm seven and a half.
When with children I aim to act like I'm seventy-four.
Who am I?


I'm not.


I'm driven by the conflicts between adulthood and childhood, rationality and human nature, art and rules, but most of all (as corny as it sounds) by the conflict between the Real World and my imagination.
By stifling imagination, there was no conflict with which to drive my composition. Without conflict, I will never move.


But who am I? Why do I need conflict?


Well, I don't really know, to tell the truth. Maybe it's just my nature. Maybe I'm just too lazy to care about anything else. Maybe it's my way of being different from all the people I've hated over the years who only know how to follow others. Or maybe I'm just a little kid, and this is how I get attention. I like that explanation best. :)

Hello. This is my blog. I don't actually expect anyone to read this, but as long as you're here, I ought to get started. ----------
It's so cool to think someone might actually read this!
No one will bother to read it. Here, I'll write "Dear Imaginary Friends" at the top.
At least it's funny.
No, it's garbage. Maybe I should say it's supposed to be.
Hey, that would be funny.
I'm really going nowhere with this. Anyone reading this will die of boredom.
Hey, I just had an idea!
So, um, hello. As I said, this is my blog. And I, uh, didn't expect you to be here. Should I get started? Or maybe I should just ramble on a little longer, or-
It was so liberating, so random. So childish, so entertaining. So unconventional, so ignorable. It was a perfect counterpoint to what I really felt about my life. I instantly fell in love with the format, and to this day I've continued to shape the blog out of a feeling of obligation.


It seems like only yesterday I left school, and with it any connection to the dark side of the Real World. Since then, I've been playing games, reading comic books, improvising, arguing, and generally doing nothing in particular. It's pure bliss.

Sometimes I wonder if I've become a piece of furniture. ----------
"There's the computer room in there. There's our TV, which doesn't work very well. There's our three computers, which are constantly breaking down. There's Mory, who sits there by that computer; we're thinking about getting him replaced. There's a chair we've had for a long time, which is all ripped up now....
I'm constantly doing things, but I never really get anywhere. I show no more ambition than is absolutely necessary, moving only between the computer and the piano. It feels like eternity is passing by in an instant. It feels like I could sit in this chair forever.







But I can't. Not because I have any faith in reality, but because my subconscious is becoming restless with no conflict to drive me. When will this new conflict begin to manifest itself? Why, it already has. Without really meaning to, I've been working on the structure necessary to push my life in a new direction. I've been working on it for months, in fact. "But where is this structure?", you ask. (Okay, so you didn't, but let's say you did.) What can I possibly craft to force myself to start moving? And where could I have put it, without my lazier side jeopardizing its results?


My dear imaginary friend, you've just read it.

Sincerely,
MAB

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

A few comments about this post, not because they're particularly interesting, but just because I imagine someday I might like to remember them:

I did not, in fact, expect this ending. Furthermore, it is completely truthful.

When I first started the blog, naturally I was not considering going into a structure like this. So the symbolism (Myst/V, Me/I) was originally a coincidence, although I did notice it soon after, and of course you can see how I made the most of it.

When I decided I would like an overall structure to the introduction, my intention was to end with "What do I want?", as a homage to Straczynski. I abandoned this idea only while writing the post, since it was very obvious that beyond the "cuteness" factor, there was no point. The question of identity the two questions imply isn't relevant to my story. If I had used the Shadow question, I certainly would have tried to cram the questions "Who do I serve?" and "Who do I trust?" in somewhere a few years down the road. But once I started writing, there was zero chance that I'd go with that title. It's just as well- the way the blog turned out is, I think, homage enough to Straczynski. (Again, no conscious effort on my part- it just turned out that way, and I noticed as it happened.)

While I'm talking about influences, there are two other names I should bring up. My style of switching between styles, which I use in music as much as I do here, is inspired by Michel Ancel, and specifically his masterpiece "Beyond Good & Evil". The dots in this last post are inspired by David Mack, and specifically the way he often writes little thematic phrases past the edges of the panels. They didn't work out quite as well as I had hoped, but I'll be using them in the future regardless.

Finally, at one point I meant to end after "Betrayal of Myst", and the idea I had come up with for the inappropriately titled "What do I want?" turned into "The Fundamental Interconnectedness Of All Things". It works much better like this, don't you think? Especially since Myst V turned out to not at all resolve the issue.

 Mory said:

By the way, I only know the Wittgenstein quote because Steve Reich made a song out of it. I'm not the intelligent sort of person who studies philosophy.

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Monday, October 31, 2005

"Don't Miss" Tour interrupted

It was late in the evening when the stranger waded into town. At first he had no empathy for the sadness filling the air- it was merely curiosity which drove him here. A large sign stood by the entrance, as if to introduce this strange place, but all it said was "Don't Miss". Gazing into the wide street in front of him, he perceived not a town but a lake. This was partly because the water reached his torso, but mostly because it simply didn't have the features any town ought to have- people, for instance. There were also no trees or vegetation, no animals, no vehicles, and not a sound but the water beneath him. The sky was perfectly clear, and the moon had only started to rise. To either side of him as he walked were tall walls with so many cracks it was a wonder they still stood. The windows were shut and the curtains drawn, but curiously enough there was some light shining out.

He passed many old walls of increasingly curious design. Some music was being played on some sort of string ensemble -slow, quietly emotional and faintly Jewish- but it faded away. Finally the traveller came across what might be considered a doorway, but the door was nothing more than an old and ratty cloth. He pulled it aside and entered. He wouldn't consider it a house, because the roof did not cover the entirety of the area, but it was certainly a home. A lady was sitting still in a rocking chair, and made no indication that she had noticed the intrusion, or if she did that she cared. Her husband kissed her on the forehead and walked out the door slowly. As he passed through, he faded away.

The floor must have been elevated, because the water only got to knee-level. There was a fireplace in the corner- a fire was burning in it without producing any smoke. Each room was separated by more drapes, and the explorer passed through a kitchen, then a bedroom, and then it seemed as if he had reached another house without realizing. Apparently the entire area was connected. He passed many families which sat or stood in place, and many people faded away as he watched them. Had he decided to return along the path he had come, he would have found that they all had vanished; but he wished to progress. The doors did not distinguish between house and the streets, and he soon understood that the distinction was irrelevant. Each area was distinct, as if there was once good reason to distinguish between them, as if there had been life here once. He moved on, all the while trying to imagine what life was like here back then, but soon reached a dead end. Several children were playing, and he understood that this was what he had come to see.


That's when he'll stop playing, satisfied with the experience, and go back to the menu. On the top of screen will be written: "An exploration collection by Mordechai Buckman". The other works included will mostly be more straightforward. One will celebrate childlike exploration (as typified by my experiences in 7th grade), with nameless and faceless people running from place to place oblivious to the secret passageways, physical impossibilities and shortcuts surrounding them. Every rooftop will be accessible, though it may take some tricky climbing and jumping. Another world will experiment with abstractions-

What the hell is this?
Hey- who do you think you are, butting in like this?
The guy who's supposed to buy this stuff, that's who! You expect me to be impressed with this elitist crap?
I'm not interested in impressing you. There is nothing wrong with aiming for something with a little class. If you don't understand what I'm doing, that's fine with me, but I don't need to put up with this abuse. Get off my blog!
Wake up, kid. You gotta sell to someone, you know. Or do you want to be one of those nuts who have shitty lives, all in the name of not doing anything anyone will like?
No, I want to be an artist, who creates good art which is appreciated by the public.
This public of yours doesn't exist. You wanna sell this to some old geezer who's never picked up a controller in his life? I play games for fun, man. Where's the fun here? This "Don't Miss" level – it sounds like you don't do anything but wade in the water!
Personally, I have fun exploring, and I have fun viewing art. I think this collection would-
Personally? The game industry isn't just some toy you can play with by yourself! You need a big team of programmers and artists, and you need a big budget for this sort of thing! Where are you going to get that money back from – selling thousands of copies to yourself? You need to sell it to guys like me, who buy these games, and I'm sorry, but this really doesn't sound like the sort of thing anyone's going to buy! And where would you even find a publisher dumb enough to try this? You do realize you need a publisher, right? And even if you get the team, and get the millions of dollars you need, and assuming there is someone, somewhere in the world, who is weird enough to buy this, you still gotta advertise it to that guy somehow! This guy will obviously be completely against the idea of having fun, or else he wouldn't even consider getting this game, so he won't be the sort of person who would buy a videogame, will he? You see, you just don't think these things through, do you?



I could try to get fans of Myst and Metroid.
Man, what are you talking about? Myst is an adventure – you know, all those puzzles and stuff. Does your game have puzzles? No. And why Metroid? That's a first-person shooter, isn't it?
No! Definitely not! While it does technically have shooting in a first-person perspective, the essence of-
Then of course it's a first-person shooter. Does your game have action in it? No. And you know why Halo sold better than Metroid?
I don't care. What I care about is the quality of the game. Metroid Prime is excellent art, and Halo is third-rate entertainment. If all the world but ten people reject my art, it will be enough, for it will mean that I have reached those ten. The rest of the world may go on ignoring me, but I will know my triumph. You may call me a nut, and chances are I will call myself a nut, but I will always know that I made a good game. It does not need to make sense to the rest of the world, it only needs to make sense in itself.
And the sign saying "Don't Miss" makes sense how?
Okay, so maybe not that. Otherwise, this will be a great game which stands up to the world and says... something or other. Boy, this is tiring. I'm glad I don't have to face the world today.

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Monday, October 17, 2005

The Fundamental Interconnectedness Of All Things

Ah, solo improv. The art of going nowhere in particular. Ah, the great art of going wherever.

I like to start by just pressing a note repeatedly, or maybe a fifth, or something along those lines, just to get a feel for it. If I'm in the right mood for a good improv, it gives me a sense of thick atmosphere. It all works out better when I've got a starting point, a setting in which my story will take place. Everything will flow naturally from these few notes, which I play repeatedly, generally while holding the pedal. But I don't think of it as a starting point. In fact, I don't think about it at all. I just start playing it, and let myself get pulled in. As far as I am concerned at that moment, that note is the entire world.




Somehow, that eternity of a setting passes in an instant, and I start playing. It doesn't matter what, just so long as I like the way it sounds. Which is not to say it necessarily should make any sense at all, because the nonsensical can be just as satisfying as the sensible, as long as it is controlled. Contradictions, confusion, despair, vagueness- these are my playthings. All of them are more interesting than some simple melody, although if that melody has been on my mind lately, that's what I'll go with. Those improvs are generally less interesting, since they mostly consist of too many variations on the same theme. But if I like it, I'll remember the theme. Maybe one day I'll even write it into a complete composition.





You know, this post sounded more meaningful in my head, with my original plan. Oh, well.


I've found that whenever I just start walking, I eventually get to where I should be, without actually trying to get there. What I'm actually trying to do is enjoy the hike, and the way I enjoy things is by trying to find the most meaningful path I can. Vague, I know, but generally I only have the vaguest idea of what I'm doing until the end, and it turns out I was right. (This only applies when I'm wandering around by myself, though.)
-from a letter I wrote a year ago
Now, there are a few things I've learned about improvisation. First, the more complex the structure the better, but if I make it too complex I mess it up. Improvising demands enough flexibility to radically alter the plans as soon as a new idea pops along. If worst comes to worst, you can always just hop right back to the
original plan
whenever it's convenient.
Is it just me, or is Myst more real than the real world? My deepest desire is to see the words "Game Over", and be allowed to move on with my life. My real life, as a gamer. To move on to games worth playing.

Believe it or not, I am not emotionally crippled by the thought that I will not be getting another Myst. My life is just so much fun right now anyway that it's hard to care too much.


The guiding principle behind all successful improvisations can be summed up with the sentence "I meant to do that."

The aftermath of the first season only wraps up in the seventh episode of this season, so maybe this should still (story-wise) be considered part of the first!
Believe it or not, the music always sorts itself out, thank God. The full meaning of the BSG connection only hit me just now, not only months after I had written it, but even after I had decided to point it out in this post- imagine that!

If other people don't understand what I'm playing, but it sounds great to me, then I know I'm on to something. What's my playing worth, if it's exactly like everything that's been done better before? On the other hand, if something I play sounds perfectly natural, yet it hasn't been done before, then it is clearly something which needs to be utilized. I am proud to have invented several techniques which I have not heard from anyone else. Naturally, I use them at every opportunity I get.

Anyone who has played [Michel Ancel's Beyond Good & Evil], understood why it can switch between so many different, well-developed types of gameplay without the player minding, internalized the new concepts it brought to the table, and recognized the significance and wider implications of these concepts is way ahead of his time. Essentially what Ancel is doing is using these various full-fledged Forms as if they are no more than colors on a palette he is painting with. This flies in the face of all conventional thinking about art!
-from a recent post on the "Adventure Gamers" forum


Taking a cue from Ancel, one such technique is to blend one style of music into another.
I compose music- don't ask what style, because it switches from classical to modernist to impressionist to pop sometimes all within one piece.
The Improviser
The improviser wanders trancelike from room to room, never entirely sure where he is or why he is there. He messes around with whatever there is to be messed around with, then gets bored and tries something else. The improviser will try absolutely anything once, and then he'll probably forget he did and try it again.

Friday, May 08, 2015

I go to a local piano store to try out baby grands for the wedding. The shopkeeper says he's got a great one, but it's been borrowed by a nearby art gallery. He calls them and asks if someone would come and show me the piano. This strikes me as an odd arrangement, but everyone else seems to think it's the most natural thing in the world, so I awkwardly follow the person from the gallery when she arrives.

The piano is magnificent, and I immediately get carried away by it. It's difficult to say how long I've been playing. I notice the woman has been listening. She asks if I would do background music for exhibitions. Sure, I say. I give her my number.

A while later, they want to "try me out" on a small, private exhibition of two artists' work. No pay this time, but if they like me they'll call me back again for bigger things. I accept eagerly. I show up a bit early so I can get a sense of the art. It's a strange exhibit - one artist does moody collages trying to capture feelings related to the Holocaust, the other has brightly-colored abstractions about the joy of Jewish tradition. I decide it will be most suitable to find the line between modernism and good taste, while working in klezmer influences sparingly.

I play softly, but having fun with it. And then I keep playing without pause for several hours, as people come in and mingle and look around. I'm informed that my music is too individualistic, and that really they're just looking for a calm and pleasant mood. That strikes me as being at odds with the experience of these creators' work, but I am here to give the gallery what they're looking for, so I quickly change my approach.

More hours pass, my fingers never leaving the keys. Someone offers me a lemonade. I drink it with one hand while continuing with the other. I keep at it until all the guests have left. The curator thanks me and says they've never gotten so many people asking who the pianist is. I go home. I am not called back for several months, so I call to see what the situation is. There will be work soon. Cool. I am not called back.



Another technique is to play, to a certain degree, completely randomly and chaotically, and still make it sound nice. It's not all that hard- my fingers have picked up which notes are wrong at any one point, so if I let them run free I can be fairly confident that they'll press the right keys. This technique can leave the listener (who happens to be me) feeling like he is in a light fog, which is a very nice effect-
Feh!- Couldn't this kid have written more sensibly? Like this whole post, for instance. I mean, at the beginning it sort of made sense, but look at it now!
Yeah.
What am I looking at again?
I wish I could say! First he starts talking about improv- I guess he means on the piano, and then this nutcase gets to this!
To what?
To this!
Ah.
What was he thinking? I mean, did he think there could possibly be people bored enough to sit around and read this stuff?


If I come up with a good idea, it doesn't matter so much whether it is vital- as long as the improvisation is being conducted according to my guiding principle, it'll progress on the right track. The only problem is keeping the train of thought going, ensuring that the link between mind and keyboard is never severed. If it is, well, the quality suffers tremendously.

There are lots of loose threads in this blog which I never did tie up. And yet certain events in my life did the work for me! The reason "I Am Not..." is such a mess is because I didn't write down all the remarkable chain of events of my life, as God laid them out. I didn't mention the day in which both my "counselling sessions" and my upcoming drafting into the army were both cancelled. (That was a very good day.) I didn't mention the week in which three paths in different areas became clear to me, which clearly was meant to be written down. I didn't mention my decision to not follow any of these paths, either. As a result of these inexcusable ommisions, my work is flawed. There is a clear lesson to be learned for improv here.

Finally, one must reach the end of the session. Okay, so that's not entirely true. The improvisation never really ends. I've seen people improvising who just refuse to stop, because a new idea is always popping up.
Hey, I just had an idea.
What?
Why don't we actually go out and do something?
Because we're lazy.
Oh, right.

But every work has to end somewhere, to make way for the next one. Ah, here's my station. I'll be getting off now.

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Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Betrayal of Myst

I recently played the demo for Myst V: End of Ages. I wasn't impressed. Cyan has never pulled off real-time 3D successfully, so it's a real shame they're determined to use it in every one of their games. Clearly, what is driving them is a desire to remain at the cutting edge of gaming technology, but why? It certainly isn't to make the game better, because in every way this demo is a large step backwards from Revelation. The enviroments are more barren and boring, because the focus was more on the polygon count than on what those polygons were there to do. The control distracts from the exploration, dealing a fatal blow to any hope it might have had of being immersive. The graphics are nowhere near as pretty, and aren't very animated, no doubt to allow for a more stable framerate. Oh, and did I mention the framerate is low and inconsistent? With all these issues, it isn't possible to believe for a moment that you're not "just playing a game". So I ask again, why? Apparently, it's to be better accepted by the public. Bl'bah! To think that social acceptance should stand higher than the quality of the game! Cyan has lost my respect, and I hope Team Revelation can take their place if this turns out not to be the last Myst game. I can only wish.

Believe it or not, I am not emotionally crippled by the thought that I will not be getting another Myst. My life is just so much fun right now anyway that it's hard to care too much. I'm not playing many games, unfortunately, but even so my life is wonderful. Soon I will be finished tutoring VB for good, and I'll be able to buy games with the money. There are still many good games I don't have for the GCN, made by gamists who haven't sold out. I look forward to playing them.


Unfortunately, while I sit and enjoy myself, the rest of the world keeps moving. Eli will be starting his school year on Sunday, and he'll be going to a dorm. So there goes my only friend. My mother keeps bugging me to try and find another friend, but the idea is repulsive. What am I supposed to do, put up a sign?
Friends Wanted!
Will you be my friend?
If you are:
  • Hyperactive
  • A science fiction fan
  • A gamer
  • Slightly crazy
I would like to meet you!
I will bend over backwards to pretend I don't offend your sense of normality!
Call my number today!
No, I'm not going to go out there and make a fool of myself. No matter how much I argue, I can't get anyone to agree with me except for those who had no opinion before. Who is interested in my artistic ideas in a world where the creators of a craft will sacrifice everything they've worked for to get a few more sales? Who is interested in me, in a world which promotes normality above all else?

This is a world in which Nintendo will turn Metroid into a FPS for the DS just because Halo is popular. This is a world in which Cyan will make Myst in real-time 3D just because real-time 3D games are popular. This is a world in which everyone bends over backwards to be accepted, even if their actions should be completely opposed to their identities. How can I deal with such a world, except as I am doing? I sit here, by my computer, in my own world. I avoid contact with the world whenever possible, even though I want it, because no good can come of it. I am not meant to be a part of this World.


But there are a handful of gamists with integrity. These are the artists, like Michel Ancel, who dared to interpret gamism differently than the rest of the world. Beyond Good & Evil was ignored completely. BG&E was made in its own world, following its own rules, and if it didn't get accepted by the general public, so be it. But amazingly, it exists. Maybe that's all that matters.

5 Comments:

Blogger 75th Trombone said:

Oh my goodness, get ahold of yourself.

1) For at least some of the Ages -- Noloben and D'ni we know for certain -- they were using content that was originally intended for Uru. I'm not saying it's "leftovers" or whatever because they're great, but they were never modeled with the intention of pre-rendered graphics. To say Cyan's caving into "social pressure" or whatever is absurd.

2) If you think they could have made the game pre-rendered in the time they had, you're quite wrong. They had, like, a year.

3) The framerate in the game is better than that in the demo. Don't ask me why. Also, maybe you're a bit too aggressive with your quality settings. Turn them down, see what happens.

4) If the controls destroy the immersion that much, you're determined to have it destroyed for you. I too would have liked to control the speed of movement; heck, there's probably a config file we could hack to change it ourselves. But in any case, three control schemes were obviously intended to make it MORE friendly for people. If you don't like the walk speed, put it in classic mode.

5) If you think Todelmer is "barren and boring" you're insane.

6) Metroid is not an FPS. It's a more of a First-Person Adventure. No game where you can bloody LOCK ON to enemies is an FPS. It's an adventure/platformer, it doesn't focus on hair-trigger reflexes or accuracy, and it's brilliantly done, and it feels like Metroid. You're determined to hate it, which is your prerogative, but your reason given here is incorrect and invalid.

Fin) "I am not meant to be a part of this World." Sounds to me more like you're determined to not be a part of this world.

 Mory said:

First of all, thank you for posting the most intelligent comment yet on my blog. :)

I must first object to the outrageous assumption that I consider Metroid Prime to be a FPS. In fact, I have been extremely vocal about classifying it as an exploration game like Myst, or more specifically an "action exploration game". I don't expect you to read my previous blog entries, so suffice it to say that I have never enjoyed a FPS in my life, and Metroid Prime 2 is one of my favorite games ever. What I was referring to (which I indicated by mentioning the DS) was the upcoming Metroid-themed FPS for the DS entitled Metroid Prime: Hunters. It does not have a lock-on feature but uses control which has been described as a copy of PC FPS controls. More importantly, there appears to be little or no emphasis on exploration, to be replaced with new types of weapons, new playable characters, etc. I am outraged because Nintendo is willing to completely ignore Metroid's identity as an exploration game (in every game from Metroid 2: Return of Samus on to Metroid Prime 2: Echoes) and turn it into a typical FPS to get more sales. I think you will agree with me that this is a very bad thing. I think this whole misunderstanding stems from my stylistic decision to not spell out any more than is necessary on this blog. I hope this does not bother you.

My criticism toward Cyan is not limited to this particular game. They should have seen the problems as early as RealMyst and either gone back to pre-rendered before that remake got too far in production, or spent a lot of effort correcting their mistakes. My feeling is that they went with real-time graphics for the sake of competition, since clearly they didn't have a valid reason from a control perspective. Perhaps this is oversimplifying the matter, but that is how it looks from my end. This blog is not a statement of absolute truths but personal ones, with the aim of understanding how they affect my life's course. In any case, pointing out that these worlds were modeled for Uru does not change my opinion that Cyan should not have been modeling anything for real-time. Uru didn't bother me because although I didn't like it at all, I still got a Myst game I liked from Team Revelation. But now it looks like there will be no more Myst games, and all I have to look forward to is this deeply flawed game. That is why I am so upset.

The control was well-intentioned but a bad idea nonetheless. I prefer to have one good control scheme to three bad ones. I would honestly be curious to hear why you think I might be determined to dislike the only remaining game in one of my favorite series.

I'm not sure which Age Todelmer is. I was referring to the beach Age (whatever its name is) featured prominently in the demo. Since this demo is my only way to get a taste of the game, I have no choice but to assume it is representative of the version in stores. I don't like spending money on games I won't like. The most prominent landmarks of the areas I tried to stroll through seemed to be a bunch of rocks. Compare this to any one of the Ages Team Revelation crafted in the last game, and you will see why I refer to it as barren and boring.

I would suggest that you are determined to find me guilty of being determined of something. It is in fact very difficult to accuse me of being determined not to be part of the Real World from a social perspective when I spent so much time in the past few years trying to get along with the people around me. But there was always a wall between us, no matter how hard I tried to reach out to them. Spending time with them was a pretense. At first I wanted to believe I could be one of them- it was only with much time and effort that I concluded that I did not belong with them.



I am glad to see an angry face here (no joke!), and I hope you will stick around for a while and criticize my other posts. If not, I would like you to know that it was a pleasure to hear from you.

Blogger 75th Trombone said:

Re Metroid: Okay, yeah, I saw "DS" and my brain saw "Newish Nintendo system," so yeah that's my bad.

Regarding realMYST: realMYST was more or less entirely a test-run of the Plasma engine they were using for Mudpie (later to be Uru: Online Ages Beyond Myst, later to be Uru: Ages Beyond Myst, later to be cancelled). They'd just acquired Headspin, they wanted their feet wet, so they built the thing.

(There was some weirdness about Sunsoft taking over development, then giving it back to Cyan. I don't really know what that was about.)

And they've said repeatedly that realtime 3D was always their vision... ...it just wasn't technologically feasible at the time.

Uru could not possibly have been made pre-rendered, since there was originally going to be only Uru Live. Then Ubi made them change courses to Uru Prime, then cancelled Uru Live, so all we have to show for it are the single player games. But the true vision for Uru simply cannot be done prerendered.

And then they had a year to more or less design Myst V from scratch. Not nearly time enough to build and render all those polys.

Regarding Noloben (the demo Age): It gets a bit more interesting than that with a little investigation, although the demo cuts you off right before the first cool part.

All the Ages are a bit smallish, but there's still a decent bit of puzzling to be done. The game is probably sized about like the original Myst, if Myst Island were a bit more linear.

Todelmer is the space Age, and it is beautiful.

Laki'ahn is the most rushed-looking of the Ages, and also has the worst framerate, and also (in my opinion) has the worst puzzles.

Tahgira is a snow Age, so it's by nature barren, but still very pretty. And the puzzles there don't seem to be integrated at all, but a blurb in the strategy guide actually proves it pretty clever.

And then there's Noloben. Tell me this about the demo, did you climb up anything at any point? If not, you've missed pretty view #1 of the Age (#2, really -- I think the beach is pretty too).

The hub Age is something that, if you've been a Myst fan for any period at all, you've been waiting for for a long time. :)

Regarding Rev: Yes, the Age design there is excellent, physically speaking. But man, Spire and Haven build you up, build you up, build you up, and then have LAME climaxes. And then all that Dream stuff is as non-Mystish as you can get. The plant concept is okay, the element spirits are WAY pushing it, but the pointing icons around is just upsetting.

It's a shame; if you took the good stuff from Myst III and the good stuff from Myst IV and put them together, you'd have a better game than Riven.

And but so anyway. I think you should give Myst V a chance. It's no Riven, but it flows nicely. It doesn't build you up then let you down.

The bad endings SUCK, but the good ending is nice.

Regarding determined to find you determined: Well, there was just a bit of "My tastes are not within the realm of human understanding" aroma to the post, and enough mistaken conceptions that I got a bit huffy. Sorry about that. <.<;;

 Mory said:

Whoops, I really messed up this comment. I've deleted the faulty version. Let's try this again.


I'm surprised you would mention Exile's "good stuff". There is only one thing I enjoyed about the game- the ending to that eastern puzzle Age. Other than that, it was badly conceived, badly implemented, contrived and very boring. There were a few good ideas here and there, but it was impossible to appreciate them because the developer did not give any thought to ensuring intuitive control. On the Adventure Gamers forum (http://tinyurl.com/7fz24) I detailed the critical flaws, if you're wondering where I'm coming from on this matter. Intuitive control is critical for an exploration game. Myst IV understood this. Metroid Prime understood this. From what I've seen, Myst V does not.

50 bucks is pretty expensive for giving a game another chance, especially considering how many good Gamecube games I'd like to buy. I really would love to have another Myst experience, but it's too risky a purchase. On the other hand, if the Ages are as good as Revelation's, I'd be willing to overlook the near-unplayability. Are they? For instance, "Snow Age" doesn't sound particularly inspired. What genius or beauty does it bring to the stage?

Just to give you an idea of what I love about Revelation: Tomahna was brilliant for its juxtaposition of the everyday with the fantastical, and for how truthfully it conveyed a sense of family life even though it created an entire design philosophy of its own, completely different to ours. Spire (my favorite) found strong emotions in barrenness. It was realistically chaotic, yet very clearly laid out. Everything about it was drop-dead gorgeous. Haven was very innovative in its reliance on animal life, and created an entire ecosystem of beautiful creatures, giving each its own distinct traits. Serenia entered completely new thematic material, an in interesting fantasy setting with its own unique mythology. I have never been anywhere like it in any game. In short, Revelation is one of the greatest recent works of art I have had the privilege to experience. Sorry about the hyperbole, but I do love singing its praises. And there are very few games more deserving of hyperbole.

From this perspective, judging exploration games first by the world design and second by the intuitive and transparent control, where does Myst V stand? As a great work of art alongside Revelation, or as an unpleasant mess alongside Exile?

 Mory said:

I did eventually play Myst V. It was terrible. Here are my thoughts from right after playing it.

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Thursday, July 28, 2005

yawn... Hey, wait, does this blog still exist?

Hi!

Nice of you to stick around for so long. Y'know, the second season of Battlestar Galactica has started, and -Bl'bah!- is it a disappointment. The first episode was completely filler, in which nothing remotely interesting happens. It was written by two writers from DS9, and it shows: it's as bad as a DS9 episode, through and through. Just like in DS9, what is considered plot development is not actual growth of the character, but just telling the viewer about something irrelevant that happened years ago. As for what's happening in the present, the only real character development is the revelation that many of the crew are completely and ridiculously incompetent. This is not what I call good drama; this is what I call DS9-bad. Oh, and there were a few shamelessly gratuitous action scenes thrown in just for the sake of having action scenes. The next episode was not much better; the creators of the show were going for an action episode and couldn't get it right.

But there is hope. The reason these episodes seem like filler is because they are filler. According to Ronald D. Moore (the excellent writer from Star Trek who created and produces this iteration of BSG), the aftermath of the first season only wraps up in the seventh episode of this season, so maybe this should still (story-wise) be considered part of the first! Maybe then we'll get our quality episodes which befit the beginning of a season for such an esteemed show.

I've been replaying Myst IV, watching episodes of DS9 (about 10% of the show's episodes are actually good), watching movies,
*AHEM*
Oh, right. I've been sort of dodging the issue, haven't I? Well, you know, I don't really need to apologize, this is my blog, they stayed here voluntarily, you know, and besides, I'm not really dodging the issue, you know, so much as just sort of walking-
(¬_¬)
Okay, fine! Look, IFs, it's just that, well, I'm having fun now. Now that I'm out of school. I made this blog because I needed it, and now I don't. Beside, I've never been able to keep myself interested in anything (or anyone, for that matter) for more than a few months at a time, and my blog is no different. It's not that I have nothing to say -for the past few months there have been tons of ideas for posts- but when I sit down to write, well, I don't really feel like it, y'know? But maybe I should write anyway. Otherwise, I'd be doing a disservice to you, and I'd be doing a disservice to my future self, who will look at this blog to see what kind of person I was. So I'll try, okay?

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Thursday, July 07, 2005

Order & Chaos


A few months ago, my family went to Jerusalem (I think) for Shabbat. Don't ask why- I don't remember. I stayed at Yosef's house. I hadn't seen him for a long time, but we were friends in 7th grade. At his house, Yosef's parents maintain constant order. The kids never even speak out of place, and constantly bow to their judgement. The meals were a solemn affair- everyone would sit quietly until Yosef's father decided to ask them a question. I like Yosef, but the experience was depressing.

Not that I didn't enjoy myself sometimes- Yosef introduced me to the strategy game "Twixt", an elegant logical competition in which the goal is to make a line from one side of the board to the other with "bridges". Generally, Yosef played systematically, while I played irrationally, looking for "out-of-the-box" solutions. It is worth noting that I lost almost every time; nevertheless, I liked my moves better, because they were more funny and imaginative. Yosef has two older sisters and two younger brothers. His brothers are very friendly and I had a good time playing Twixt with them while Yosef slept. (He was, unfortunately, sick that Shabbat.)
Last Friday, my family went to Gush Katif for Shabbat. It was my mother's idea, of course. I stayed at home, but ate at Eliav's house. I've been inviting him over almost every day recently. At his house, Eli's parents have no control over their children. Eli and his siblings do as they please, ignoring their parent's desperate pleas. The meals were a strange affair- at lunch, Eli suddenly became angry at the world and wouldn't speak, and blamed his father. I like Eli, but the experience was disturbing.

Not that I didn't enjoy myself sometimes- I introduced Eli to the intricacies of domino lines, a "sandbox" for creatively elaborate contrivances using lines of dominoes as well as blocks, cars, Lego, etc. Generally, I tried to play it safe, while Eli played recklessly, looking for "out-of-the-box" solutions. It is worth noting that my creations worked more often than his; nevertheless, I liked his better, because they were more funny and imaginative. Eli has two older sisters and three younger siblings, the youngest two brothers. His brothers drove me nuts with their constant noisemaking, pestering, whining and crying. I avoided them like the plague.


But why must order and chaos always come at the expense of the other? Why must life only thrive when it runs wild? Why must sanity be the trademark of the boring? Can there be no middle ground?

2 Comments:

 Mory said:

I'm not sure whether or not this is actually relevant, so I didn't want to clutter up the post proper with it, but it occurs to me that both Yosef and Eli were very repetitive in their statements as we played.

As I played Twixt with Yosef, he would keep saying "Do what you feel is right.", and that sounded silly because the move I was to make did not have some grand epic implications as the Obi-wan-esque statement seemed to imply. I asked him to stop because I was getting very tired of hearing that line every time he made a move, but he kept doing it anyway.

Similarly, Eli would preface everything he said with "Technically, ...", and that sounded silly because invariably what he was saying was not very technical and didn't for any reason demand or allow that the word "technically" be placed before it. I asked him to stop because I was getting very tired of hearing that word every time he suggested anything, but he kept doing it anyway.

I don't know what to make of this connection- maybe you do.

Blogger David Bush said:

It's nice to hear that someone plays Twixt in Jerusalem. But I don't have a clue about the Force, technically.

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Friday, July 01, 2005

Good Riddance

Dear Imaginary Friends,

I am free. The graduation ceremony was last night. "Preparation for the Real World" is now officially over. The event was strangely depressing, though. I should have been overjoyed that I would never have to set foot in that building again, overjoyed that I would never see those kids again and have to worry about my lack of a relationship with them. But all I could feel was guilt. Guilt that I had not tried harder with my classmates. I kept thinking: "Go talk with them, you idiot. This is your last chance." But what did I have to talk about with them? Show them Wario Ware: Twisted? They certainly wouldn't have cared. Make smalltalk? Sure, I know how that goes:
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."


"..."

"Bye."

So I stayed away, and felt miserable for it. We were all handed yearbooks, with photos of each student and words written by a friend summing up his personality. I had brought no photo, and had no friend. I keep telling myself that it's for the best- were my name in the yearbook, it would indicate that I had been there, in the same world as the rest of the grade. That is clearly a lie. So it is appropriate, but still painful to be reminded so inescapably that in the eyes of my two-year colleagues, I do not exist.

What do I do now, with no school to bind me? As little as possible, I hope. I'm watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine from start to finish and am finding to my surprise that it is exactly as bad as I remember. Better, I am filling in the blanks of our Star Trek: Voyager collection, and I had forgotten quite how good this show was. I'm starting to watch Quantum Leap, too, a cute and light show. I always look forward to Eli's visits (Eliav lives a few doors away), because I've been introducing him to so many great experiences: Zelda, Tallon IV, Fire Emblem, Battlestar Galactica, Beyond Good & Evil, Ball Revamped. I also just lent him the Flash Gordon tapes (the original), and I hope he finds it as amusing as I did. (As I told him, if he is capable of taking it seriously then there is something seriously wrong with him.) There's nothing so satisfying as giving someone else a fun experience, and it is helping me to appreciate my favorite games better by seeing them through a new perspective.

Anyway, that's my life. How are you guys doing?

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Thursday, May 12, 2005

Natural / Rational

Around two months ago, I got into an e-mail correspondence with Benjy. He started wondering about virtual realities- whether people would ever plug themselves into "a Matrix" voluntarily. I responded that in my opinion that would be the ideal, and he asked me to elaborate. With Benjy's permission, I am now reprinting the ensuing letters here, which dated between March 21 and April 5.

Note: In order to save space, I have hidden the letters from you. Effective, no? Just kidding- to read a section, click on its title (taken from the original letter in all cases).







Dear Benjy,

Today, people are forced to work in economies and live in societies that they would not have chosen if they had the freedom to choose for themselves. This is necessary, as it's impractical to give complete autonomy to every group who wants it. Beside, different cultures would clash with each other, as no one is really a world unto themselves. With virtual reality, everyone who has an idea for a lifestyle can create, and others would be free to live in it. To live their lives not how society is demanding of them, but how they want to live their lives. And no matter how radical any approach is, if it exists only in virtual reality it cannot harm anyone else. Tell me how this is not an ideal world.

Love, Mory

Where to begin...

1. No one in a free country is forced to work for anyone, or join a cultural clash, or follow a lifestyle. You don't have to look far to see that. I'm here, working and studying and everything else, because I want to. I could just as well be a bum, or live in a shack, or wander the Earth aimlessly without ever working a day. I wouldn't have much to eat, if anything, I'd get nowhere, I'd achieve nothing, that's hardly a life worth living in my opinion. So I choose to live in a society, to work, etc. I don't feel like I'm giving up any autonomy in doing so. Autonomy in a vacuum is meaningless: what would I be free to do? Without knowing anything, creating anything, desiring anything or putting an effort into anything, I would be anything but free.

2. There is tremendous gain from living in a society, that's pretty self-evident. There's no way any individual could discover everything, achieve everything, and think about everything; the combined endeavors of members of a society make everyone better off, so long as each member is free to choose his or her own path, as people definitely are in this country, in Israel (to a lesser degree) and in many other countries in the world. If for no other reason, you would have no video games if it weren't for the massive global markets and societies that create the incentives for
people to make them.

3. You could plug everyone into a virtual Matrix, and they could all wander their utopian islands forever, but there are still human needs. At the very least, someone has to produce food, shelter and energy to keep these plugged-in people alive and their machines running. Who would do this, and why? More importantly, though, people can't live in islands. If they all plugged in like that, they'd just meet each other again in their fantasy worlds. And they wouldn't make everything perfect, because that's ridiculous: if everyone is gorgeous, beauty becomes boring. If there are no problems, good things become meaningless. Humans are social animals, they want and need societies to live in, it's a fact of life. You can say otherwise because your food is paid for by someone else's work, your video games are made by mythic Others outside of economic requirements, and so on, but the real world doesn't work like that. A Matrix world is a parasitic existence; in the movie it's the robots sucking the energy out of the people, but in your utopia it's the plugged-in people living off of the working people. How that latter group would exist is not clear.

4. If the world were ever to become so virtual, I would very proudly stay unplugged. I'll be old-fashioned when it gets to that point, leaving computers to make life more efficient, and make information flow more easily, but at the end of the day I'm still a human being.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on all this.
Love,
Benjy

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Preparation for the Real World

The bird flew through worlds,
until it remembered what it was,
and could not reach the barred windows.
Those swirling vistas may exist outside.
They must.

Left, right. Left, right.
Run, little creature. You have not become
what is known to be best.
Listen, write. Listen, write.
Absorb. You have not heard
what a machine should know by heart.

Has your wing been shot?
Is no one coming to your aid?
Are you afraid?
Will you forget where you belong?
Good.
Outside, the day is long
and this is the bottom of the hill.

When you are not you
and have no pain to call your own,
you must understand your place.
There is no flight.
No time for dreams.
Good morning.

You say: "No one in a free country is forced to...follow a lifestyle." From my perspective, you're wrong. The system gives only three choices:
  1. Follow the lifestyle which society has prepared for you.
  2. Live a miserable life in which nothing will be accomplished.
  3. Drop dead and stop bothering us with your presence.
If you weren't so comfortable with the first option, would you still believe that the world as it is gives freedom? I doubt it. What if someone wants to dedicate his life to art? That is not allowed. He must study things he is not interested in, play capitalist games he is not interested in, in short waste a good deal of his life, and he still has no guarantee that he will get to work on his art. How dare you call this a choice?! Look at all the security guards in Israel, sitting around all day doing absolutely nothing. If you think that these people chose the job freely, then you are fooling yourself. I'm not suggesting that people should do nothing all their lives- no one would want to live like that if provided with alternatives. But people should be given those alternatives!

Furthermore, I don't think anyone has the right to determine for everyone what constitutes a productive use of time. Almost all the time I've spent at school in the past decade has been what I would consider a tremendous waste of time. But what I consider productive -thinking about videogames, playing and trying to understand videogames- may be what some people -maybe you- would think of as a waste of time. And I can imagine other people thinking of both of these as wastes of time, and the only good use of time being socializing. Then there are people for whom the greatest way to use time is learning Gemara. These are all valid positions, and they all must be allowed.

You seem to think I was saying that there should be no societies. But I never did. Making virtual worlds would only expand societies by letting people be part of one society even if they are physically on the other side of the world! But I suppose if someone truly did not want to be part of any society, he should be allowed to live alone, although I don't see what he could possibly want that for.

Here is a section of you letter which I have trouble understanding:

"You could plug everyone into a virtual Matrix, and they could all wander their utopian islands forever, but there are still human needs. At the very least, someone has to produce food, shelter and energy to keep these plugged-in people alive and their machines running. Who would do this, and why? More importantly, though, people can't live in islands. If they all plugged in like that, they'd just meet each other again in their fantasy worlds. And they wouldn't make everything perfect, because that's ridiculous: if everyone is gorgeous, beauty becomes boring. If there are no problems, good things become meaningless. Humans are social animals, they want and need societies to live in, it's a fact of life. You can say otherwise because your food is paid for by someone else's work, your video games are made by mythic Others outside of economic requirements, and so on, but the real world doesn't work like that. A Matrix world is a parasitic existence; in the movie it's the robots sucking the energy out of the people, but in your utopia it's the plugged-in people living off of the working people. How that latter group would exist is not clear."

I don't understand what you're saying. Please clarify.

As for your pride in being unplugged, after great reality artists got a shot at making the worlds they think up, and you see how much is possible that was not before, you would quickly get over it.

Love,
Mory

Your mistake lies in confusing social constraints and natural constraints. This is what I mean: a social constraint would be, you need to get a degree to get a good job. A natural constraint is, you need to work to eat. Society does not dictate that people need to work; society does not determine that humans require food, that food requires production, that production requires labor, that labor requires wages, etc. This is reality, physical reality. In fact, many societies have tried to change this, change "the system" that they mistakenly believed was an artificial social construct; they failed miserably, because they were wrong.

So explain this to me. You can plug yourself into a virtual world, fine. But you still have a body, which requires food. You still need shelter from the elements. And you need energy to power your machinery. How will this be done? You seem to dislike everything society considers productive - so by your reasoning, the need for food production, construction, energy production and so forth are all arbitrary social constraits, which a perfect world would eliminate. But how?

There are many people who dedicate their lives to art. Just look around, there are artists everywhere. Well maybe not in Beit Shemesh, but in the world. But it's not like these people can simply sit and paint all day. Because they have to eat. And they have other responsibilities. So they need to work, and make money. Not because society says so, but because reality says so.

I don't think your videogame contemplation is a waste of time, but it's certainly not productive. Unless you want to redefine the word. Productive means it *produces* something. Show me a single thing your contemplation has produced. Your elephant program was nice, but if that's the culmination of years of supposedly productive activity, then something's wrong with the picture.

Yes, all of those uses of time must be *allowed* - they all *are* allowed. But not to the expense of all else! A person has every right to learn gemara - but to do nothing but learn gemara, won't feed anyone. You can play video games all you like, but you still have to eat. That means that a rational person, irrespective of society, has to divide time between naturally necessary endeavors such as physically productive labor, and leisure or art or other desirable but unproductive (as far as life needs go) endeavors. Do you understand what I mean by this?

Virtual worlds and societies are great. But within these, you have to realize, people would still have to *work*, make money, feed themselves, generate energy, etc. Both for the arbitrary social rules that each society makes, and for the natural physical needs of a human being.

So I'll end with a related thought. To desire a utopia, you have to live that utopia yourself. An idealist has to embody the ideals which he believes in, in his own mind and life. Do you embody your utopia? If you were on an island, you would have no food, shelter, energy or any other basic human need; you only survive in your world now because others - following what you consider social constraints - produce those goods for you. Just a thought.

Bravo on your letter. You successfully demonstrated that my utopia is unrealistic. As always, I am in awe of your reasoning skills. However, the entire letter was more or less entirely pointless, as I never claimed to be realistic in the first place. What I have been describing is the ideal world, not a realistic one. In fact, I make every effort to ignore reality whenever possible. You might say I am embodying my utopia in doing so, but I am not so naive as to think that I act on ideology rather than on more natural motives, such as laziness. The reason I have been taking so long to answer your letter is partly because I've been busy with the Megilla, but mostly because I saw that your argument was aimed at my utopia but had completely missed its target. I simply couldn't relate to your letter, and every time I reread it I came to the same conclusion: "So what?"

So I'll start with a thought. If I were on a desolate island, I would live for survival, as the circumstances would force it. But when we are talking about the ideal world, survival is a given. There should be no constraints- artificial or natural, which are forced upon man. This may or may not be impossible, but I really don't care. A man should be allowed to make his own decisions in life. This is the ideal, and the closer the world gets to this goal, the better it will be. If the goal really is unattainable, then getting closer to it should keep mankind busy from now until the end of time. For it is mankind's natural goal, which it has been striving for for its entire history, to overcome natural limits.

Once, man could not communicate. Once, man could not burn things. Once, man could not travel quickly. Once, man could not travel to other countries. Once, man could not fly. Once, man could not leave the planet. Today, man still cannot live without certain natural requirements. But tomorrow? Man created languages, man created fires, man created wheeled vehicles, man created ships, man created airplanes, man created spaceships. Could man not create machines to prepare and distribute food, drink and energy? Could man not create machines to take care of the machines? Or could man, perhaps, devise some genetic replacement for the requirement of food?

And when man overcomes the natural obstacles in his way, we will not live to survive - we will survive to live. No longer will the criterion for worthwile (not productive- you're right, that was an ill-chosen word) usage of time be whether or not it can get food on the table. That way of thinking might be realistic, but it is not natural for a human. An animal is realistic- it accepts the limits it is given. A human must struggle to be realistic, because deep down he wants to transcend those limits. When a human is forced by society to accept his limits, he suffers. Do you understand what I mean by this?

There is no one today who succeeds at dedicating their lives to art without having to waste a good deal of their lives. You may call this natural, but it certainly does not feel that way for the artist. An artist naturally needs only one thing- to make art. The rest is unnatural. Sure, the world around him requires it, but the world around him exists only in his mind, and his mind does not naturally think that way! Artists were allowed to live as artists only in Stalin's rule, when they were given all they needed without question and were free to spend their entire lives on their art. Not to defend Stalin in general, but this particular lifestyle was perfectly natural for them. Do you really think they felt deprived of the "natural" requirement of making money?!

A constraint like "you need to work to eat" is not created by god, it is created by society to address their problems. Society does not dictate that humans require food, but it does dictate that people need to work, that labor requires wages, etc. These laws have served mankind well enough to reach this point, but these are imperfect laws designed only to allow man to cope in an imperfect world. Your mistake lies in confusing reality and perfection.

Fascinating.
I can only say two things. First, that such ideals are dangerous, because implementing anything in reality towards it can have disastrous effects on real life. Communism was based on similar ideals of overcoming "capitalist" limitations to the world. However, there is of course nothing violent in your ideals, nor are you actually promoting them, so for now at least there's no problem with that.
The second thing is, I wonder what your *measure* of perfection is, and question whether it's correct. "There should be no constraints- artificial or natural, which are forced upon man." So what is the measure - the quantity of limitations? You seem to imply that the quality of freedom is inversely related to the quantity of limitations, but I question this corrolation. You have a very good point, that technology and progress allow us to overcome previous physical limitations. Does that then imply that the elimination of all physical limitations is the ideal? I'm not sure it logically leads to that, but perhaps it would.
This thought just occurred to me: what would people do with their time if there were no physical requirements to fulfill? Even artists get bored, and most people are not artists. I think you'd have a very bored society if you reached anything close to your level of perfection, and I question whether such a society is in fact perfect.

Benjy

PS. I hear you did a great job with the megilla, nice!

That thought which has just occured to you occured to me in seventh grade. I believed that since machines were sooner or later going to take over most of the tedious work from man, the day would come when a large portion of the population would either commit suicide out of boredom, or go back to a life as primitive as cavemen in order to escape technology. This was before I found videogames.

Obviously, no person would want a life with nothing to do, so the solution is to play in virtual worlds with their own limitations. If someone wants to live life exactly like people now live but in a virtual world, ala The Matrix, he should be allowed to do so, but /he is not forced/ to do so. At any time, the person can exit the virtual world and pick another. The person will naturally pick the lifestyle which is most suited to him. I imagine that most people would spend most of their time in advanced MMORPGs, where there is much work to be done, but all of it is rewarding. They will break up their time by playing smaller games, either alone or (if designed for the purpose) with a larger group, say their families.

But how can a small group of videogame creators satisfy an entire world? This is where my ideal for videogames comes into play. Just as the ideal for the world at large is to break all limits for man, so too is the ideal for videogames to break all boundaries of what types of art are possible. For instance, if someone is a composer, he could easily make a world which is nothing but a concert hall which plays for audiences, or he could get a group together and make a "Fantasia"-like world where the music is accompanied by pictures in every direction you can see. A painter could paint a simple canvas which you can admire from all angles, or he could paint a moving canvas, or he could paint an entire landscape for you to walk around in. An artist who has an idea for a brand new art form, like nothing to come before it, could create it, and other artists could join him in developing it. In this way, all the artists in the world, of all types, would contribute to the creation of a universe of virtual worlds for people to experience.

If you doubt that artists would be willing to create art without financial motivation, then just look at the game industry. There are many reports of how bad the working conditions are in the industry, how badly game designers are paid, how much overtime they have to put up with, but many new game creators join the industry each year /despite this/. I can only imagine how many people would join if they did not have those deterrants. A monetary reward is only necessary when the task is not an enjoyable one, and artists don't just enjoy creating art- they live for it. Add to this the desire for fame and respect, and you'll have plenty of artists ready to contribute.

Sounds good. So what are you doing to join the ranks of video game creators?

Well, that's sort of where it all falls apart, I'm afraid. Honestly, I have no idea how I can start making games. The elephant program, which was supposed to be a miniscule first step into an enormous world- was a failure. I couldn't control it precisely, and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with it, so I reluctantly gave up. I could theoretically (assuming that I could get over my laziness and stubbornness to change my laziness) get into a university which teaches programming, but that wouldn't get me into the creative aspects of making games, just the tedious work. There is one school in Canada which teaches game design, but it turns out you have to be fluent in French.


"but that wouldn't get me into the creative aspects of making games, just the tedious work."

Ah...and therein lies the whole flaw with applying even any aspect of your ideal world to the real world, or even having that ideal in your head as an ideal, as you walk thru the real world...getting to the point where everything's a perfect ideal of art and creation and beauty and meaning takes a shitload of WORK before you get there...!

Here's a thought. Maybe give the ideal a timeframe: life should be perfect and artistic and all that in, say, 10 years. Until then, life will be mundane, tedious, full of annoying physical and social limitations, etc. There will of course be some beauty and meaning and perfection in that time, too, but it will be secondary. Perhaps then, after 10 years, life will approximate your ideal world a great deal more. What do you think?

Congrats on your music report, a little birdie told me your teacher thought it was BRILLIANT. Glad to hear she's competent enough to see the obvious.

B

No, for two reasons. First of all, as you've noticed, it all really boils down to my laziness and stubbornness. The flaw does not specifically lie in the theoretical application of my ideal on the real world; it lies in my personality. Even though I know that doing well in school will give me a better chance at getting to where I need to go in life, I'm unwilling to put any effort into it. It is possible that I would be more willing to work when the goal is closer in sight, but probably not- I am, in fact, a lazy bum. Secondly, I'm afraid that if I were to force myself to do tedious work, I'd eventually get used to it. And that is just about the scariest thing I can imagine, because then /I wouldn't stop/ doing tedious work. My entire life would become a tragedy, with only hints of the tremendous potential it once had, but none of it fulfilled. When I look at most adults, I see the most boring creatures- creatures who once could have been humans, but have allowed society to make them into machines. I don't want that to happen to me. So I reject any work which I don't naturally want to do.

Yes, this means I'll never get anywhere in life. I deal with this by not thinking about my future. It's worked so far.

Mory, I'm going to be honest with you. You're wrong, you damn well know it, you know you could do something about it, and this is not about innate wiring in your brain that you have no control over. So cut the bullshit. There is absolutely no potential to a life without any *ambition*, Mory, so the "tremendous potential you once had" is meaningless. "I am, in fact, a lazy bum" is the most pathetic thing I have ever heard anyone say. You don't need me to tell you you're a genius and - if you were just a little ambitious - you would in fact have tremendous potential. I don't need to tell you that because it's so painfully obvious.
Of course you would get used to tedious work. Fabulous. What do you think ART is, a peaceful meditation? You don't think the great musicians spend days on end without sleep, endless hours writing, rewriting, toiling, WORKING to make their art a reality? Art is not an abstract ideal, Mory, it's the result of very, very, very hard work. So you can't have it both ways. Either you really believe in your ideal of art and perfection, or you're full of shit and you don't believe in any of it. Life with MEANINGFUL tedious work is not a tragedy, it's an ideal! It's the essence of everything great in the world, endless hours of passionately meaningful work. Sure, not everyone has such meaningful work. Many or most people find a career that pays their bills, keeps them busy and gives them the financial security to pursue other interests in life. Those people are not "machines", they're not tragic, they're not "formerly human"; they're people pursuing their own meaning in their own way. On your current track, you will never have meaningful work, you will never create work, and life will indeed be miserable. What kind of a fucked up answer is that?? You need to break out of the cycle, NOW, and start doing things. They won't all be ideals, or full of meaning; studying for an exam, working a shit job, or whatever people have to do to reach their true ideals, are not all full of meaning every moment. But meaning is not something in every moment, it's an *attitude*. The shit job and the endless hours of work and lost sleep and stress are
about the *means* to an *end*. But it's not the end that we live for, necessarily, because the process itself is beautiful. So what's your end? And what are your means? And what process are you on to fulfill them?

Your brother who really does care about you,
Benjy



I appreciate your honesty. Where you are wrong is in assuming that I never do work for the sake of art. I have put many hours into my musical compositions, and I enjoyed it immensely. No, it is not tedious, because it is natural for me to compose. It is self-fulfilling work. I'm not afraid of getting into a good position where I can actually make games- I'm afraid of what it takes to get there. Because making games would be lovely, self-fulfilling work, but the work on the way would be filled with mindless tedium. And when you let yourself get used to tedium, you're not necessarily going to ever give it up. That would be the tragedy which I am referring to. Where I am asked to do tedious work for the rest of my working life and I accept, because I have changed into a person who ignores how much he hates it.

Your suggestion that I could change is undoubtedly true. But I won't, for the same two reasons I explained in the last letter. As for your observation about the "lazy bum" comment, that was just me being honest. I recognize that much of what I do can directly be attributed to laziness, so I say it. I imagine that many people are not too different in this regard, except that they choose to pretend they are not lazy. You may not like my natural laziness, but ultimately it's me, and not you, who will decide what I will become.

I think your utopian view of capitalism is blinding you from the very real problem which most adults have. You would be ridiculously naive in your worldview to think that the people who spend their time as security guards, for example, are finding meaning in their lives. When someone forces himself to go through something which is not natural for him because it's the only way to feed the family (Most work is like this, it seems.), that is not self-fulfillment. It is misery. Sure, the person won't allow himself to notice it too much because he feels he's too busy to worry about himself, but it is misery, deep down. An unnatural misery. You, Benjy, see beauty in capitalism. I am very glad that there are some people like you, who naturally fit into capitalism, but I am not one of them.

I am not wrong about myself. I know what an awful life the world has in store for me, and I accept that life. To do so is natural for me; thus, it is a small self-fulfillment. If I end up out in the streets, I will at least see the beauty in such a situation. If I end up commiting suicide, I will at least see the beauty of my final desperation. But if I begin to devote my life to a system and not to myself, I will never see beauty. I would be living an unnatural life, a life without meaning, a life with wasted potential for self-fulfillment. So I refuse to budge. You may think this is tragic, but I do not. I think this is gloriously human.

Perhaps you don't realize that it's possible to change one's life course many times. There is no reason why you have to get stuck in mindless tedium forever. That expectation is totally ungrounded. You may have to go through 5 years of "tedium" to attain your ultimate game making job. Except it's not tedium, because you will have other good things going on in life. And when you do get the job after 5 years, it will all seem like a blur of memory and it will all be worth it. Such is always the achieved result of long, tedious work.

The same for security guards. It's not a job for physics professors. That Israel has such people working in such a profession, is not a failure of capitalism, but rather, a perfect example of the dismal failure of the Israeli socioeconomic system. In every dorm building here at BU, there are several security guards. It's a boring job, I'm sure - they monitor who comes in and out, basically - and I doubt it pays very well. But some of the guards are very happy people who really like their work. One guy is friends with everyone in the building, he likes his work a lot and says so. Then there are the grumpy guards who just have a grumpy personality, unfortunately. In another building is a graduate student who works a night shift as a guard in order to pay for school. So there is nothing tragic about being a security guard. It's a low-level position that, in a functioning economy, is a stepping stone to better jobs. They can also move up; from being a lowly guard they can rise in the ranks of the guard management; there's probably a whole corporation that contracts out guard services to countless locations. Or they can become policemen. Or, like the graduate student, they can quit their temporary guarding job and go onto a real career. My point is not to glorify the wonders of being a guard; it is simply to refute your claim that many are inherently "tragic". You know, in a video game world, you'd need to rise in the ranks too. You wouldn't start as king of the universe. (A game that automatically put you as the king of the universe would have to be one in which there was no social interaction with any other real people, because everyone would want to be the king, making it impossible.) You'd have to start as a lowly grunt and move up in the ranks. Isn't that how video games work? It mimics real life. People aren't born into their dream jobs. But everyone who does achieve a dream job at some point, had to work a lot of lowly jobs first to get there. That's life, it's not tragic.

What do you mean, to devote your life to a "system" and not to yourself? What system? Tell me, seriously, have I devoted my life to the university system? Or the capitalist system? Or the American system? I would say, unequivocally not. Those systems are all extremely useful systems in which people can work to further their own lives. People function in the system because they are devoted to their own lives; no one is devoted to the system, that's a meaningless statement. No one says "I go to work because I have dedicated my life to the capitalist system." If they said that, it would simply be another way for someone who works in finance to say that like their job making money from the capitalist system. Devoting *to* the system is absurd.

Meaning and purpose are yours, not the system's. The system is there to work within to further your own meaning and purpose. The question, ultimately, is whether you really have any meaning and purpose, and whether you care enough to further them. The rest is hot air.

Benjy



No one says, "I go to work because I have dedicated my life to the capitalist system", it is true. That does not mean that people have not dedicated their lives to capitalism, but just that they don't see it that way. Why should a security guard admit to himself that he'd be much happier if he were allowed to skip that "stepping stone"? To do so would just make him miserable, because thanks to the capitalist system he can't. So he is realistic, and accepts his fate smiling. But beneath that smile, I don't believe he is as happy as he could have been if the system had allowed it. If it had allowed him real meaning and purpose, without him having to pretend he had them. Life is capable of being so much better. By restricting himself to a realistic path, he is dedicating his life to following the system, whether he chooses to say so or not.

Theoretically, it would be lovely to dedicate a few years of my life to the system if I could get a real life after that. But as I said, I'm afraid of what damage those few years could do to my personality. I'm not sure that I would accept the good life over the realistic one. Would I, like the security guard, give up on what really matters? I have no way of knowing. I am not the same person I was a year ago, not even the same person I was a few months ago. If I forced myself into the system (the collective system), sooner or later I'd start ignoring my misery. Of course it wouldn't really go away, but I'd ignore it, because it's only natural to ignore things that are bothering you. And if I'm working to ignore my own natural goal in life, then I might never get back to it. What I'm worried about isn't so much that the system wouldn't allow me to end the tedium, but that I, a changing person, might get used to the constrictions of the system and prevent myself from ending the tedium.

I have some meaning and purpose in my life. I find it in playing games, and envisioning games, and composing music. But surely I could (ignoring the system) have more. So what would be a life of meaning and purpose for me? It would be a life dedicated not to the system but to creating games. It would be a life where I start, not with my "dream job", but with a school which teaches me the basics of game design. But that's not what I could conceivably start with in this system. Realistically, I need to learn lots of subjects which will not help me in the slightest, and then even when I get to the point where I can learn something useful I must waste my time on other things, like working in a meaningless job (by which I mean one which serves the system and not my life) to pay for my education. Next, in my ideal life, I'd move on to some small part of game design for small projects- say, the level design in a 2D platformer, or puzzles for a Zelda-type game. From there, I'd spend years of my life working my way up until I have the skill necessary for my dream job. Realistically, I'd have to get some job unrelated to game design, say programming or music composition, before I can work on game design at all. This is the difference between a meaningful life devoted to myself and a meaningless one devoted to the system.

So where can I get without having to deal with reality? Nowhere, obviously, so if you want to see all this as "hot air", that's fine with me. But I'm not a realistic person. I am concerned more about staying human than I am about reaching my dream job. Because if I reach my dream job and am no longer human, then it will have been a life wasted.

Mory

Actions speak more than words, and while your words are interesting, they do not match your actions. If you really wanted to learn game programming, you'd go buy a book on elementary game design. And you'd devour the book, and do as much as you can with the skills from it, then get another book. You don't need a formal school to learn a skill; I never took a single formal class in web programming and I make a nice living off of it. (And though it does get tedious at times, it is not miserable, or meaningless, because even at its worst, it is a means to great ends and hence worthwhile.)
So, since your game design career ended with a single failed spinning-elephant program, I say your actions do not match your words. What about music? You could do even greater things with music if you got out of your artistic bubble. You could record your music, for starters; you could perfect it, record it, sell it, and do great things with it. And don't give me a speech about giving up your music to the system, because it's recycled crap by now. A great masterpiece created and lost may have some abstract value in some Platonic world of values, but it will get you nowhere. Isn't Mory more important than Mory's work?

You speak of great abstract ends, yet you are not willing to invest a single ounce of effort into the *means* to achieve those ends. Goals do not come achieved on silver platters, and further, when they do, they're worthless. Being a game designer is a great end. So take a piece of paper. At the top of the paper write "now", at the bottom write "game designer"...and then map out every step in between. Because the end is the rung at the top of a great ladder, and if you never step on the ladder, you'll never even get close. And then, I say, you don't want to be a game designer at all, but simply pretend you do, with brilliant self-deception, as every human is innately capable of. Perhaps the guard truly does use subconscious self-deception to avoid misery at his lowly job. So what? If and when he climbs his ladder, all that will be irrelevant.

What do you want to be when you're 80? How badly do you want it? And what are you doing right now to get on the track towards it?



First of all, I'd like to clear up a few misconceptions. Game programming and game design are not the same thing. Game design is the creative aspect- designing worlds, designing interfaces, etc. Programming is the technical work. I never got to the point where I could start working on game design, because there can be no games without someone doing the boring programming work, and I was, as I discovered, incapable of doing that work no matter how much effort I put into it. I did learn the basics, and I got as far as the spinning elephant, which didn't work as I had intended. I didn't come close to creating even a simple framework in which I could design the game. So my game design career hasn't started, except on the conceptual level. Another misconception you seem to have is that I do not release my music for philosophical reasons. When did I ever say a thing like this? When did I ever even imply a thing like this? If people like my music, then fine, I'll give it to them. But I don't believe my music has much value, and to be frank I don't care about it all that much. I compose only as a hobby, and I don't have the slightest idea what I am doing when I do so. I just compose things which I enjoy playing. I don't believe the general public would like it very much, nor do I have much interest in finding out.

Of course these conceptions are beside the point. The real question is: Do I want to be a game designer so badly that I'll stick myself into hell to have a slight chance of reaching that goal? The answer is no. It should be mentioned, however, that I have tried mapping out a route for myself before. My own route. It was to start with the elephant, and end in "Through the Wind", which would be a giant step into the game world. I planned out all the programming I'd need, all the controls, most of the structure, etc. But it got nowhere because I can't do it alone. I need programmers and artists, but the programmers and the artists have all devoted their lives to capitalism. I can't make a game without a team; I can't get a team to follow me without experience; I can't get experience without sticking myself into hell; I am not willing to do that for any end. So I have taken that "piece of paper" -the one with "Now" and "Game Designer" and everything in between- and burned it. Sure, I've lost the goal, and I've lost the present, and I've doomed myself to a meaningless existence. But burning the paper was the only action I could take. Maybe I'll find a way to become a game designer. Maybe I won't. At this point, it seems irrelevant.

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Saturday, April 30, 2005

Illusory exodus

The depression always kicks in at the end of the vacation, faced with the prospects of returning to school. Not that there's anything unnatural about depression- it's a completely natural rejection of a completely unnatural world. And it can be quite interesting on occasions. But it would sure be nice if I could stop having to reach that point. Where vacation has just passed by in a moment, and the Real World comes back to get me. And it only was a moment. A fleeting moment. A moment about to end. A momentous moment poised for-
WARNING: HAZARDOUS LEVELS OF RAMBLING DETECTED. REPEAT, HAZARDOUS LEVELS OF RAMBLING DETECTED. WARNING
-and what now? Now I will return for more school. Joy.



It was fun while it lasted. Although it went so fast, I can barely remember what I did. Let's see, I played a few games, which were pretty fun, although nothing worthy of mention right now. And I watched movies, too. And TV shows. And that pretty much is it for the whole week. There's not enough time, really there isn't. I did go out with the family three times.

The first was a trip to the Israel Museum, which was really fun. There was a really nice exhibit of photos of natural landscapes. I'd say about a sixth of it was amazing, the rest sort of blah. But most of it was in black and white, and that just doesn't convey all you can with color. But then, a color picture can't fully convey the experience of being there, so there's still plenty of room for improvement. :) The nicest in that exhibit was a really really wide photo of the sky (in color), which was simply breathtaking. Miriam was just trying to speed through the whole museum, and she wanted to see the regular exhibitions which I've already seen several times, so I went with Dena to the temporary exhibitions, of which that was my favorite. Oh, right, I forgot to mention that they came too. So they came, and my mother too. There was also an exhibit about the way light has been portrayed in art, which was nice but seemed oddly incomplete. And another exhibit about the beauty in modernist art, which was also entertaining. All in all, a good trip.

My father was looking through the paper for things to do. We were all sitting around the dining room table, waiting for him to find something worthwhile. At least, I was- I can't speak for the rest of my family. He wanted to do something which everyone could enjoy, which would involve social interaction. I doubted the feasability of this concept, knowing my family. We're just too different. No common interests. I wanted to stay home, Miriam wanted to kvetch, Dena wanted to be with friends, my mother wanted to go to Gush Katif to show solidarity, and my father just wanted to be involved in whatever we did. He would get new hope from every advertisement he read, not willing to fully recognize that we weren't interested until he had read the entire ad out loud and discussed it. I can relate.
It was my idea to go climb a tree. You know, good old-fashioned tree climbing. Hey, stop giving me that look- it's fun! Haven't you ever climbed a tree? And so we did. Just my father, Miriam and I. We went looking for a forest. Unfortunately, what we found was more of a desert, with frail, sickly looking trees all over the place. Miriam and I wandered around, through lots of trees and the like, because we were bored by the path. Straight paths are naturally boring. We didn't find any good trees, but we had fun exploring. Then we went back to my father, who had found a tree. Not a tree like I was thinking of, but it was a good tree for climbing nonetheless. It was split into two long branches, going in two directions. I climbed up far to the one going on a 45-ish-degree angle, Miriam climbed the same one a little lower, and my father climbed the other branch which went almost straight up. Then we sat in the tree, playing "Ghost". It was fun.

The third trip was not so good. We were going to a party being held by my parents' friends, out in god knows where. I waited for us to do something, and eventually we did- we played Pictionary, just our family and one other kid. Everyone else was inside schmoozing and generally being boring. We didn't actually play Pictionary to the end. My parents left to go to Gush Katif, abandoning me out in the middle of nowhere with their friends. They had asked a family I don't know to take me back to Beit Shemesh with them. So I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And I waited. The wife asked her husband at one point whether they should leave. And I waited. And I waited. And I considered that they had no responsibility to get me home, had not promised me anything, owed me nothing, and I considered that my parents had left me with them. And I waited. Eventually, we did leave.

I didn't forgive them for that, so I didn't go with them on their fourth trip, for which I am thankful, as I was able to stay home and play games.


Which brings me to now. Here I am, after the vacation for Pessach, the festival of freedom. That vacation has just ended, and already I am being brought back into slavery. So, next year, as they say. Next year in the complete Jerusalem.


Until then, I'll just be moping in this corner here. Don't mind me.

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Friday, April 22, 2005

GameSpy's Fargo looks at the trend toward realism

PlanetFargo: A New Era in Real-Time Strategy

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Thursday, April 21, 2005

Who's telling this story, me or you?!

One of the first text adventures I ever played was Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". I downloaded it for several reasons:
  1. I loved the Hitchhiker books and radio show, and was curious to see what the series would be like in other mediums.
  2. I was curious to see what text adventures were like.
  3. It is often called a "classic". Nowadays, the word "classic" is used to mean "old", not to describe content. You know, there was a time when it actually meant something. [sigh]
  4. The game was written by the late Douglas Adams! Has to be good, right?
The first thing I noticed when I started to play it was the amazing strength inherent to the written word. The strength to conjure up a detailed environment and tranquility with minimal words. The strength to provide a meaningful experience.
The second thing I noticed was that the game was using this strength to punch me in the head.



Everything you do in the game is done through extremely simple text commands the player types in, like "look at window" or "take screwdriver". Now, before I start complaining, I'd like you to understand what this sadistic little game is like. I will use the example of the infamous "babel fish" puzzle, and for this I apologize in advance. Your character has just found himself on an alien ship. There happens to be a dispensing machine of some sort in the room. By typing "examine dispenser", you find out that there is a button on it and that you will get a babel fish from it. When you "press dispenser button", you are told that a fish has sailed "across the room and through a small hole in the wall, just under a metal hook." So you take off the dressing gown you're wearing, and "hang gown on hook". When you press the button again, the fish should hit the gown, and slide to the floor, so you can pick it up, right? No, of course not. "The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, vanishing through the grating of a hitherto unnoticed drain." So you cover the drain with a towel you got earlier.
A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot zips through the panel, and is gone.
So you take a satchel and block the panel with it.
A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot plows into the satchel, sending the babel fish flying through the air in a graceful arc. A small upper-half-of-the-room cleaning robot flies into the room, catches the babel fish (which is all the flying junk it can find), and exits.
The solution is (of course! How could you not have thought of this!) to take the junk mail you had picked up earlier and put it on top of the satchel on top of the panel.
A single babel fish shoots out of the slot. It sails across the room and hits the dressing gown. The fish slides down the sleeve of the gown and falls to the floor, landing on the towel. A split second later, a tiny cleaning robot whizzes across the floor, grabs the fish, and continues its breakneck pace toward a tiny robot panel at the base of the wall. The robot plows into the satchel, sending the babel fish flying through the air in a graceful arc surrounded by a cloud of junk mail. Another robot flies in and begins madly collecting the cluttered plume of mail. The babel fish continues its flight, landing with a loud "squish" in your ear.


There are two ways to solve this puzzle. The first, which I turned to, is to use the in-game hint system to tell you the entire solution. It doesn't tell you it all at once- it tells you one step at a time, hoping that you'll be able to pick up from where the first few hints lead you. The second way to solve the puzzle is to look at everything you own, try it on everything in the room, and see what happens. This method is not helped by the fact that there is a limit to the number of commands you can use before the game pushes you forward. But even without that problem, this puzzle is not interesting, or funny, or challenging for your creativity, but tedious, and maddening, and mind-numbing. Toward the end of this puzzle, the hint system helpfully comments that "At this point, brave men have been known to break down and cry." This puzzle is supposed to be funny, and you know what- it may have been funny if you were watching the computer do it instead of having to do it yourself. Douglas Adams, like the most famous adventure game writers, liked making incredibly contrived puzzles, because the suggestion that one should solve puzzles so contrived that no sane person could ever solve them is funny. But if that humor is all they are going for, then the interactivity is a waste of time.

The player is constantly reminded that he is not the character, because the character is to think of things which the player would never think of. He is constantly reminded that he is not the character, because the narrator of the game must fill the player in on what the player is thinking and experiencing. So the player is there to empathize with the character, right? To watch what the character does and what the character is going through, and laugh at it, or think about it, or feel sad about it, or be entertained by it. And if this is the ideal for text adventures, then the interactivity is a waste of time.

How is interactivity useful? In theory, it should allow the player to empathize with the player better, because if you're acting out the character, then you ought to be thinking what the character would think, no? But no. The player will only experience the story if he believes he is in it. The game must help him suspend disbelief if it wants his reactions to be genuine. But how can you suspend disbelief in a text adventure? By its very nature, you'll be switching tasks every few moments: from the passive experience of reading detailed text, to the active experience of writing minimal commands. How can you believe within such an unnatural medium?

Also, using interactivity in this way seriously limits what the gamist can accomplish. Say you want to make a detective adventure, where the main character is Sherlock Holmes. Well, you can't- at least, not without dumbing down the character. If the main character had the perception and brilliance of Sherlock Holmes, then only a person with the perception and brilliance of Sherlock Holmes could play it, which limits the potential audience to around three people altogether in the world. No, you've got to give Holmes a case so obvious that any moron could figure it out. Ron Gilbert did this with The Secret of Monkey Island: making the character someone who doesn't know a thing, so that the player is on the same level as him. But any game which features a main character who is not exactly like the player is a bad idea in the current framework. So the character cannot do anything professional, have any knowledge whatsoever prior to the start of the game, have any meaningful relationships with other characters, etc. For a storytelling medium, it is absurd to accept such limitations. In the past, interactive fiction creators have "cheated" their way out of these limitations by sticking in entirely noninteractive segments which develop the main character's personality in a way which does not conform to the player. But this never has any impact on the interactive portion of the game, because once the player is given control, the character reverts to a generic avatar! Better to just make the whole thing noninteractive, then! Have some consistency in the story, not having to provide watered-down challenges which any player could overcome! In this framework for interactive fiction, the interactivity is a waste of time.

What is the purpose of interactive fiction, anyway? If you want to passively enjoy fiction, you read it. If you want to actively enjoy fiction, you write it. These two activities are like night and day, not least because they are two sides of the same. A reader believes he is in the world of the book, and is powerless to change the ending but can feel connected to the story nonetheless. A writer must believe he is outside the world of the book, so that he can think about how the characters will act when they are not like him. But interactive fiction should explore the territory in between the two extremes- where both the gamist and the gamer can contribute to the end result.

The closest thing to this which I am familiar with is improvising on the piano. Eliezer started our tradition of improv in the Academy a year ago. I had been improvising alone (for fun) for a long time, but that was my first experience with duet improvisation. I sit at one grand piano, some other pianist (sometimes Eliezer) sits at the other grand piano, and we just start to play. Sometimes it's with a violin or a saxophone. We're playing, but we're also listening, because we need to complement each other. With these improvs, you never know where it's going, because the other player might suddenly get an idea, and you'll go in that direction with him. Or you might get an idea, and he'll join you. It's fun. But it's very difficult to have a coherent overall structure.



Now say we were to apply a similar concept to writing. A good work of interactive fiction should be a collaboration between gamist and gamer. Since the gamist is not present to bounce ideas off of the player, AI will have to suffice. The player would not give commands like "press dispenser button", but full sentences like "Arthur Dent pressed the button." This may seem like nothing more than a nuisance, but it would serve to reinforce that the player is above the game, so that he will empathize with characters who are not like him rather than forcing all characters to be like him. As to how, precisely, this would play, I haven't a clue. I'll get back to you.

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Monday, April 04, 2005

Semantics, Part 2

Here is what I posted on the Gamecritics forums today:
I hope you'll forgive me for doing something a bit different.

Since the creation of videogames, developers have been eager to push past boundaries which previously accepted types of games took for granted. This has given us many great experiences, but unfortunately we have not acquired any new terminology with which to speak of these games, and hold on to our old terminology. Some terms are straightforward -for example, everyone knows what a first-person shooter is- but some terms have become rather vague, most notably "videogame". The purpose of this thread, should you help me out, is:

1. To learn how we define videogame terms, and if there is a consensus in this forum over those definitions.
2. To question whether the language we use is sufficient for a serious discussion of videogames, and if not, come up with the terms we need.

This thread will of course get nowhere without your help, so I ask that you recognize the importance of precise terminology for any kind of discussion. Please answer these questions, and challenge other's answers for adequacy.

* What is a videogame?
* What is a role-playing game?
* What is an adventure game?
* What is an action adventure game?
* What is a platformer?
* What is a puzzle game?
* What is a simulation?

Also, based on your answers to these questions, how would you categorize:

* Animal Crossing
* Rayman 2
* The Legend of Zelda / Beyond Good & Evil
* Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
* The Legend of Starfy
* Harvest Moon
* Myst
* Metroid Prime
* Wario Ware
* Electroplankton (for DS)
* The Sims

Thank you for your time.

No one has answered yet. I started the thread in order to refine my own definitions by observing how other people respond. In the meantime, I will touch on some things to be elaborated on later. For the answers to my questions, I will reserve judgement until I have read what my fellow forum-posters have to say.

In Part 1, I defined gamism as all Forms of art and entertainment in a digital medium. I would now like to adjust that slightly: I will refer to this as "absolute gamism". Gamism, as it exists today, is defined as: "All digital Forms of art and entertainment which were created by the Game Industry". Absolute gamism is the ideal state of gamism, and one of the responsibilities of a gamist is to bring gamism closer to that state. Any member of gamism is a videogame.

I'm not yet sure how to define adventure games, but an action adventure is any adventure game which incorporates action without relegating it to mini-game status. I haven't played many adventure games, and none of them qualify, but from what I hear there are such games.

The Legend of Zelda and Beyond Good & Evil are not adventure games, but what I call "metaludes". In fact, they are two different genres of metalude: Zelda is a "structural metalude" while BG&E is a "narrative metalude".

I would also like to propose another original definition: the "exploration" game. This is a game which focuses, first and foremost, on exploring an environment. I am not familiar with any standard exploration games (where the entire game is only exploration), but there are genres of the Form with added game elements. Most notably, Metroid is an "action exploration game", and Myst is a "puzzle exploration game".

That's all for now. I expect that I won't get any responses for some time, given that it is a tremendously hard issue to deal with and even I, the creator of the thread, have to have more time to think it over.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

Breaking the metalude into two genres was a lot of hooey. I will never refer to these terms again.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2005

You are now entering Panic Mode. Have a nice day.

I apologize in advance for this post. In the past few posts I've been sort of one-note, and the blog is already suffering as a result. I am writing this regardless. Why? Because when you ignore the stress you should be acting on, it builds up. I am aware that this is corrupting the blog, but so be it. A little bit too much banality from the Real World should make a good contrast from the posts later on.


Yesterday, the head of music at our school caught me and informed me that I would need to give her the music project by the next day. I had been avoiding her for months as well as the teacher who had been supervising the project. I also remembered that I had been neglecting to write up more of my piece "Untitled" on the computer as well as burning a disc for Eliezer. Eliezer takes preference over the rest of the school, so that evening I played "The Secret of Monkey Island" on my computer. Cute game, by the way. Then, when I was supposed to go to bed, I did some work on Untitled and burned the disc for Eliezer.

This morning, I left early in order to get to the improv session with Eliezer at a reasonable hour. It went great, until all the speakers in the school started blaring Purim songs. I went up to the secretary to see if there was a way to shut it off in our room, but no lasagna- they didn't know how to work the speakers. So improv was over. I played Untitled for Eliezer again, and once again he announced that he felt it was complete. I played Variations On V.O.V. for Eliezer again, and he announced that one section was incomplete. I ignored his comments. Then was Music History. The room was taken so we sat in the library, whispering. The teacher was explaining things that we'd need to know for the bagrut, so I found nothing of interest. On leaving the library, the head of music caught me again, and I reaffirmed that I'd have the project today.
My plan: Make the changes I had been told to do to the project on the school computers, print it out, bring it to the supervisor, get her corrections, go back to school, update the file on the computers, print it out and hand it to the head of the music department. It'll go away.

Murphy's Law has a way of sneaking in.


I went to the computer room and asked if the printers were working. No, I was told. No? Could it just be some little-? I asked. No, I was told. The printers weren't working. So the plan was over. I went home. That took about an hour, then I had something to eat. A few minutes before I had to go, I changed the file, printed it out, and sent it to myself by e-mail. I went back to Jerusalem. Of course I was late by that time. I called to find out what bus to take from the Central Bus Station. I waited for that bus, took it, and got there 40 minutes late. She showed me what I needed to change to complete it.

She had no working printer. I called person A who is in my class to see if I could come over. He said that he didn't have a working printer, and I should call person B in my class. Person B said he wouldn't be home, and I should call person A. I came home.

Hours later, I finished up the project. I called the head of music, who said she has no fax, so could I bring it tomorrow. I said no, I'd be busy. Could I fax it to her then? OK. Tomorrow then. I'll send it at 9:00.

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Friday, March 18, 2005

VI: The elimination of unworthy life

My father wanted me to mow the lawn.

It was so pretty, so full of interesting plants, so alive. There was grass, and weeds, and clovers. And he wanted me to cut it all down. Now, I am not an enviromentalist, against cutting down anything at all for the sake of progress, but this is different. If it needed to be cut to make room for something else, I could understand. If it needed to be cut because it was preventing something else from growing, I could understand. If it needed to be cut because someone was allergic to something there, I could understand. But when I asked my father, "Why do you want to cut it all down?", he replied, "It doesn't belong there." Those plants had been growing there for months, and would continue to grow chaotically until the lawn became even prettier. Naturally, I refused to go along with him.

Two days ago, (almost immediately after I had written my last post) my father came to me with a proposal. I should first explain that my monitor, which I had liked a good deal, broke down less than a week ago for apparently no reason at all. I have since been using a fifteen-year-old piece of trash which can't do any resolutions above 640x480 and which, no matter how much I try to tweak the graphics card's settings, can't get colors right. My monitor was especially missed for Myst IV- it had broken down when I was halfway through, and I've had to play the rest of it (I finished it yesterday) with this monitor which predates the entire series. I've been dreading the prospects of having to continue using this monitor, as I have no means to get money. Enter my father's suggestion that he would pay to fix my broken monitor if I study for my tests. I was surprised, to say the least, to hear such a clever parenting trick from my father. And then I went to Dr. Elmaleh for another counselling session and found out, understandably, that it was he who had planted the idea in my father's head. But I suppose it does not matter at this point in time which of them can use minimal brainpower when it comes to destroying my life. At this point in time, what matters is that the damage has been done. The two games cannot compete when an artificial need has been created for them to cooperate. That conflict has been postponed, although I fully intend to get back to it later on in this blog. Until then, I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that I will still be here to share it with you, my dear Imaginary Friends.

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Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Lost in Myst

I recently bought the entire Myst series of four games. If you haven't played them, do. All but the third are phenomenal. The fourth, in particular, is spectacular, with puzzles that despite their complexities make perfect sense. For instance, right now I'm at a puzzle where you need to use lots of wooden mechanisms to change the direction of the flow of water so that you can drain a certain area from water. I first tried to map out the area so I'd know where the water should flow, but gave up after a half-hour attempt gave me an undecipherable mess. Next I spent around an hour playing around with them, which gave me a very vague idea of where the water flowed. Then I tried and failed to decipher a map of the water which was drawn in mosaics. So I checked walkthroughs on the web, which told me that I had already set all the mechanisms correctly except for one. At this one mechanism, I must close off two streams. The machine is easy enough to use, and I can close off both of them separately. But each time I close one, the other opens. And so I have spent hours standing in place and closing one, then the other, then one hafway, then starting over, etc.

No, it really is an amazing game. The puzzles, except for that one, are brilliant, and- Oh, stop rolling your eyes, you'd agree with me if you'd played it! In any case, I'm stuck there now. If I were to play any other game while I'm still playing "Myst IV: Revelation", I'd naturally compare them and not enjoy the other game as much as I would have (because few games are as good). So I'm not playing any games right now. Battlestar Galactica won't continue for months, and Enterprise won't have any new episodes for a few weeks, so I have very little TV to watch.

And as long as I'm giving you all these meaningless details, I might as well go on to describe what else is going on: I just finished my latest piece, aptly named "Untitled". It certainly isn't one of the pieces I cared most about, and from the start the intent was to let Eliezer (my composition teacher) help me out, whether I agree with his decisions or not. I must say, it's sounding quite nice for the most part. I haven't touched Variations On V.O.V. since working on it in January. I was supposed to get a disc with the "Finale" notation software from Eliezer for the past few weeks so that I could more quickly write it up, but I never went to who I was supposed to get it from. I got it directly from Eliezer today. I'm planning on reading the Megilla on Purim, which is coming up soon, but I haven't been practicing. I have a bagrut (the final exams here, which all schoolwork is working toward) in Music History coming up. I have all the papers I need to study, but I haven't studied them. I have a bagrut in piano playing coming up, but I haven't been practicing. Wait, and there was something else I wanted to say... oh right, there was a paper I was supposed to hand in a few weeks ago to sign up for the programs I'd need to go to to do the bagruyot I'm not doing this year after the year is over. I actually came to hand it in today and found out that it's too late.


But why am I going off on such a tangent? Let's get back to the subject. As I was saying, due to apparently coincidental circumstances I'm not busy with games or TV shows right now, so clearly what I should be doing is posting on this blog.


[At this point in writing, I had to pause for about an hour and a half -no exaggeration- trying to think of how to continue from this statement.]

Do you know of Epimenides' Paradox? Surely you must, even if not by name. The most recognized form of the paradox is: This statement is false. How can one deal with such a statement? The only way we humans can deal with such self-referential speech is by creating a more understandable representation of the sentence in our minds, and then analyzing that.



And I'm very happy to be writing on this blog, because it offers me such a good way of dealing with Real World problems. Here I can create reason for human irrationality. Here I can make a good game out of a lousy one.

My mother asked me a few hours ago how I can ignore the Real World around me. It doesn't make any sense! Don't I know that I can't get anywhere without getting good grades? Sure, I know. But reason is a game, not reality. I am not applying the lessons learned to myself, but to an imaginary representation of myself. As such, I have no internal obligation to follow reason unless I want to. And in this case, I don't. My deepest desire is to see the words "Game Over", and be allowed to move on with my life. My real life, as a gamer. To move on to games worth playing.



Myst doesn't have a "Game Over" screen. The implication being that the game doesn't actually end, it just continues badly (although you are spared from seeing the continuation). Of course it can't end, because if it were to end, then how would you ever get to explore any more Ages (Myst worlds)? At the very beginning of Myst is the statement: "The end has not yet-"

I don't know why I brought this up in the first place. Forget I mentioned it.

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And I suppose the next break will be a month, will it?!

Imaginary Friends, you are the most loyal readership I could possibly have hoped for. A week has gone by without me posting, and not one of you has left! It's so nice to know that I'm giving you some food for thought, or at least something to laugh at. A few quick words about the format of the blog, before getting on with the somewhat more substantial posts: I've realized that I don't actually need any feedback from live people, although it certainly would be appreciated. (I'm sure that every single one of you, now that you know, will take the time and effort to contribute a little bit of your Imaginary selves to this blog by commenting.) When I have a question I can't answer, I'll post it here with "Part 1" in the title, as I have done retroactively with "The elusive key to longevity". And how will this help me answer the question? First of all, I will read your comments which will attempt to answer the question. Incidentally, in the time since I recommended commenting a few sentences ago, you have all written in comments. I am stunned by the swiftness with which you took my words to heart, as well as the sheer quantity of comments- by my estimate, each one of you has posted 15 times already! By looking through these comments I will be able to gain some insight into the problem. If these personal comments don't give me the answers I'm looking for, I'll leave it for later, as I do so many other projects. This is not to say I will definitely get back to it, of course. Indeed, I never finish any project I start. (This blog isn't the way I intended it to be, for example, but I might get to changing it eventually.) But it is always possible that some future version of Mory will look back at this relic from his buried past and post a simple answer in order to demonstrate his superiority over that idiot. If and when he does so, he will title it "Part 2". If no such Mory comes along, then the riddle will simply fall a Part, and there remain.

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Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Incompatible

A central theme in my life of the past few weeks has been whether or not I am capable of making friends. Dr. Elmaleh implied to me that I wasn't, at least not without making changes to the way I approach other people, but then over the next week I got into several enjoyable conversations, not because I suddenly had motivation to talk which I hadn't had before but because the circumstances I was pushed into brought me in contact with people who I simply hadn't met before. God was clearly trying to let me know that I am not as socially inept as Dr. Elmaleh would have me believe. No sooner did I mention this to Dr. Elmaleh, than my opinion was reversed yet again. For a day or two later was the shul's dedication, and the few families which had contributed the most (including mine) celebrated by having a joint dinner for friday night. Never mind that there was so much social activity that I felt like I was on the verge of seeing blue screens of death in front of my eyes; when I did manage to pay attention, the conversations bored me stiff. I tried and failed to find an entry point into the discussion. On Shabbat, I tried to speak with one of the friendly kids on the block and found I had nothing to say to him.

I had also, at around the same time, gotten very frustrated with the fact that my entire class had been ignoring me since I joined the Academy a year and a half ago. I started considering confronting someone -anyone- in the class about this, but never did. And right around then, a few kids in my class started unintentionally proving to me that they had no grudge toward me but simply had never considered forming any sort of opinion about me. It was way back on the three-day trip at the beginning of this year that I attributed the lack of a connection with my class to a lack of common interests.

This didn't happen at the same time, but it should be mentioned nonetheless: there were several friends I made over the past year with people who like me were interested in videogames. Every single one of them has disintegrated. I don't know if they ever wanted to talk to me, but that seems like a moot point. After talking a little bit with them, I got bored and no longer cared if I ever saw them again. This has happened to me many times over the years. I still remember the last time I spent some time with a friend from elementary school. We sat around, each trying to think of something to say, and both failing: We had nothing better to do than talk, but had gotten sick of talking to each other. So if common interests aren't enough, than what is?

My questions were answered a week ago, when Marcus came for dinner. Marcus was my best friend in kindergarten. Yes, kindergarten, back when I lived in America. He and his family were visiting Israel and stopped by. A few words about Marcus: He is very hyperactive, talks about what interests him whether you care or not, and one of his favorite hobbies is bothering his two older sisters. The reason I say this provided me with the answers is because it did. Even though I had not seen him for a long time, even though we had almost no common interests, even though we acted differently and talked differently, my conversation with him was the most effortless and enjoyable I have had in a long time. Marcus showed me lots of star constellations in the sky, not because I had asked, not because I cared at all (I didn't), but because he cared. Other people might have hated that, but that's precisely why I like the guy. That's when it hit me- it doesn't matter whether you have common interests (although it's certainly nice). There are some pairs of people which can have a good time together, and most pairs of people who consider themselves friends can't. The former can and will have unconditional friendships, the latter will pretend they are friends just to convince themselves that they are satisfying their need for friendship.

My mother, in a rare moment of truthfulness, once told me that despite being friendly with many people, she doesn't think she has many real friends. I have none, at least which I am in contact with. The last time I had friends in my class was in seventh grade, when I was fortunate enough to have two very good friends: Tuvia and Yosef. When I think about it now, I think Tuvia had Asperger's Syndrome. He would talk nonstop about marine biology. I couldn't have cared less about the subject, but he talked about it because he cared and I cared about him. Yosef was bouncing off the walls sometimes for effect, and I cared about him too. Those were real friendships.

I asked Dr. Elmaleh to get me in touch with other kids with Asperger's Syndrome. I hope this goes somewhere.

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Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Ignored Potential of the Impatient Phoenix's Pillar and the Immature Public's Perception Problem

At E3 2004, Nintendo revealed their "Third Pillar". It was to be called the DS, and would have two screens placed vertically, the bottom one a touch screen. I read this on the internet and got very excited. Here was a handheld system that could actually improve gamism rather than just copying what consoles had already done. Old Forms could utilize the two screens to give much more depth than previously possible, while being much more intuitive than a conventional controller. I immediately thought of how my favorite Forms could benefit:

The Zelda Form (Or can someone please give me a better name for this Form?) is designed around immersion- that you should never be pulled out of the game by a change in controls, or a change in interface, but should feel that you exist inside the game. But until now, occasional changes in interface were practically unavoidable for a reasonably complex "zeldan" game because it is difficult to allow for actions such as switching items (The Legend of Zelda), trading items (Beyond Good & Evil), checking progress, checking maps, etc. without resorting to a menu. But on the DS, all this could be put on the bottom screen! That way, the main screen would never need to change, and the player would never be pulled out of the experience. This may sound like no big deal, but for a zeldan game immersion is king. Additionally, the touch screen could create unprecedented depth for many items. For example, imagine how much greater the combat of Zelda would be if once taking out your sword (from its sheath on the bottom screen), you could attack by swiping on the screen! Suddenly, you would be able to attack in many different angles and even styles of swordplay by moving the stylus in different directions, as opposed to the one-button swordfighting in current Zelda games.

Now imagine a platformer where the top screen shows the 3D environment you are playing in (with the character in it), while the touch screen shows a view of the main character from the back. You would jump by "flipping" the character around with the stylus. For instance, you could push from the legs upward to jump, and then spiral around to do a somersault in the air, and finally using the stylus to push the character so that he falls on his feet. This could be a deep, nuanced game beyond any conventional platformer.

For Myst, the DS would be ideal. The top screen could allow you to scroll through pictures you've taken of all the hints/maps/symbols you found, while the bottom screen would be the game itself, played with the stylus almost exactly as it is now with the mouse. Having your "notes" on the top screen would take away the need for a pencil and paper without cluttering up the interface, and voila: Myst on the go could finally be possible!

And so on, and so on. The ideas I came up with were all of how the system could be used to enhance current Forms, allowing gamists to bring their crafts to greater heights. But instead of taking this historic opportunity Nintendo has afforded themselves, they decided to reinvent the wheel. That's right, rather than perfecting their Forms they would like to throw them out and create lesser ones. The concepts for the DS they have demonstrated are all starting from scratch. They have shown a Yoshi game in which you don't move Yoshi around but draw clouds for him to walk on. They have shown a "Metroid" game which does not deserve the name but is just a mindless First-Person Shooter. They have talked about a Zelda game that will use both screens equally. They have shown a Mario game that goes back to 2D. And so on, and so on. The motto they're going by is: "Let's throw out everything we've worked so hard to build and start over". This is not what I was expecting, not what I would want from my favorite gamists. All of these games look reasonably fun, but of the Super Mario Bros./Wario Ware variety, not the Super Mario 64/Legend of Zelda variety. No Form can hold your interest for very long until it has been sufficiently developed. The new Forms they are creating, though, don't look like they have any room to develop! They are all designed to use the features of the DS as gimmicks. What I expect is that after one or two iterations of each new series, Nintendo will throw it out and start over again. This was they pattern they had a long time ago, and apparently they miss it. Back in the 80's, they made Zelda -a very promising new Form- and threw out the entire form in favor of making Zelda II a shallow RPG which was completely different and did not rely on the foundations they had worked so hard on. The same can be seen in Donkey Kong 1, 2, and 3. Nintendo likes the invention stage so much, that they're not interested in building up what they've started. (In case you're wondering, this is what I was referring to as Impatient Phoenix Syndrome.) I have no doubt that these games will be very fun, but they won't lead anywhere. It takes a long time for a Form to develop from "a fun experience" into something greater. Without those greater games, the DS has no appeal for me.

So who, exactly, is the Pillar for? (...other than the Nintendo gamists, who are doubtless having a blast with it.) These are intuitive, simple games which neither require nor develop good gaming skills. They would be good for people who have not experienced any Forms interactively before, and are not willing to invest too much time and effort into a game. I'll cut to the chase: I think the DS is perfect for girls and women. Don't believe me? I've been trying to get Miriam and Dena to play games for a very long time without success. There are only a few they like: Animal Crossing, Yoshi's Island, The Sims, Wario Ware, Mario Party. They both like Animal Crossing because it's very cute, not challenging and doesn't force them to do anything but lets them play as they likes. Miriam likes Yoshi's Island because it's cute and not too hard. (Dena isn't a good enough player for it, but she likes the Yoshi character a lot too.) Both girls like Wario Ware because it's simple yet fun. They like The Sims because it's simple but rewarding. They like Mario Party because it's easy to jump into, but allows for a lot of fun if you bring a few friends. All these games are simple, with not too much depth, but manage to be fun because they are new experiences. This defines pretty much the entire first-party DS lineup! There's an Animal Crossing game coming out, a Wario Ware game out, a Yoshi game coming which is very simple, a music game which allows many people with DS systems to play music together easily, a Kirby game which looks pretty simple, a "puppy simulator" called Puppy Times which simply allows you to play with and train virtual dogs, similar to the old Petz computer games (which, incidentally, they both liked). The DS lineup looks like it is tailor-made for my sisters. And I don't think it's just my sisters: these games can appeal to anyone who is not a very good gamer and isn't turned off by cute graphics/themes.

Nintendo has been, from the beginning, marketing the DS to twenty-something guys. Their TV ads featured the slogan "Touching is Good", and had guys in their twenties as the focus, or women as sex objects. Why? Why isn't all their advertising aimed at girls and women?! I could only conclude that their marketing was a bunch of morons, until I brought the issue to the Gamecritics forum and received a powerful rebuttal: Nintendo is probably afraid of being seen as a "girl's company".


At E3 2001, Nintendo unveiled the Gamecube. While its competitors (Playstation 2 and XBox) were painted in black with boring, ugly designs, Gamecube was a cute little purple box with a handle. I think the Gamecube is the most adorable console ever made. But I have read countless editorials assessing that the general public didn't like it for precisely that reason, and also because its main launch title was Luigi's Mansion, a "family-friendly" game with cartoony graphics. Whether or not this is true is by this point irrelevant, because Nintendo's heads have gone on the record saying that this was a bad marketing choice, and they are working now to correct the error they supposedly made. Apparently, this "mess-up" set in stone Gamecube's status as a "kiddy" system, which of course insults the maturity of many gamers. The legend says that the Industry's target audience was turned off by the fact that the Gamecube did not go out of its way to turn off younger gamers. This legend must be true to a certain extent, as I have seen many people calling Nintendo a "kiddy" company. Is this hurting Nintendo's sales? Maybe. Nintendo isn't doing as well as they used to when there wasn't such a demand for "Maturity" (read: sex, violence). So they're now trying to create a new, different image for themselves. An image which people who are insecure about their maturity won't be repelled by. Just one problem- this image doesn't correspond with the games they're releasing. Their new commercials all imply trashiness, but Nintendo's games are too good to live down to that image. The commercials imply that the games are unsuitable for kids, but to make such games would be going against Nintendo's style which they do so well. When Nintendo, at last E3, showed a video of the new Zelda game, which unlike the last game (The Wind Waker) which had bright and cheery cartoony graphics, is going for a more photorealistic approach, the fans went crazy with excitement. What they were cheering for was not a change in target audience -in fact, what was shown was too minimal to suggest much deviation from the great Zelda tradition- but a feeling that Nintendo has stopped being "for kids", because near-photorealistic graphics have a connotation of rated-M ("mature") games. The feeling, doubtless incorrect, was that Nintendo has abandoned their ideals of games that are appropriate for kids in favor of what the public wants of them. And this new Zelda was proclaimed as a correction of the "misstep" Nintendo took with The Wind Waker, which incidentally is a fantastic game.

What would happen if Nintendo were to point out the appeal their games naturally have for girls? In a worst case scenario, exactly what happened when they pointed out that their games can appeal to kids- they would alienate a large portion of their fanbase. So they would prefer to project an image which will not have any basis in reality. People may buy the DS expecting anti-childhood games, but they will find the games on offer seriously lacking. Will they appreciate Animal Crossing, or Yoshi's Touch & Go, or Super Mario 64 DS, or Wario Ware: Touched, or Kirby's Magic Paintbrush, or any of the other games scheduled for release? I doubt it. It is better to have an audience which expects something the general public will not approve of, than to have an audience expecting something the general public will approve of and finding nothing of the sort.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

There's a happy ending to this story. Some time after this post Nintendo's marketing changed course, following the general approach I'm advocating here. Except they went even farther than I could have hoped for: They've been aiming not just at girls but at the elderly and the health nuts and all sorts of other historically non-gamer types.

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Sunday, February 27, 2005

Ball Revamped: Metaphysik

jmtb02 || ball revamped: metaphysik
I highly recommend you check out this game. It's a really promising new Form, and the creator seems to have the vision necessary to develop it.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

It's not really a new Form at all. I'll deal with this at some point. (I've been putting it off for a year or two, because it would be a big project.)

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Monday, February 21, 2005

the mundane and The Imaginary!

I woke up around 6:30 this morning. I had gone to bed too late, considering I never sleep well before school days, so I was very tired. I stayed in bed. Ten minutes later, Pussywillow ran into my room and jumped to the window, which was closed. I got out of bed to open it for him. He sat, looking out, and I watched him. Around seven, I left my room and saw the signs which my mother had put up. I got dressed, and went to my computer to kill some time. I went into Firefox which brought up my twenty home tabs, mostly gaming sites. I was careful to stop browsing only when fifteen minutes had past from the time I would have needed to get off in order to get to school on time. I grabbed my jacket and left the house.

The bus ride was long. The bus was completely full, and I sat in the very back in the middle seat. That is the seat behind the aisle, with chairs on both sides, so that from there you are looking at the entire bus from the back. There was no one I recognized on the bus.

I got to class a half hour late. Yehuda is the head of my class, and is the nicest guy I've ever met who has anything to do with schools. It was his class I was coming to, and he allows students to come in even if the class is about to end. Despite Yehuda's best efforts (and he is a very good teacher), the material today was very boring. I sat in my place, trying to find a comfortable position for my head and failing. Class ended. Yehuda asked, "Wait, doesn't someone here have a birthday?" The consensus was no. "Yes," I said tiredly. I left the room. The schedule said there would be a Music History class at 11:15 (after a one hour break), so I went to the computer room and browsed the web.


Aah! I was scared out of my wits right there. What a surprise! I don't believe it- all my Imaginary Friends have come! You really didn't need to go to all this effort. It's so nice to know I still have all you guys. And who's this- Tuvia, is it imaginarily you? You've come all the way from Ketchikan? I haven't seen you since seventh grade! I've missed you so much. I've missed the way we used to talk together, not out of some kind of social obligation but because we were friends. I've missed the way we'd play games together and tell jokes and have fun. I'm so glad you're here, in this Imaginary room, with all my other Imaginary Friends, with this great Imaginary party! But first- Tuvia, how have you been doing?

I had an enjoyable but brief conversation with two younger kids in the room about computer games.

At 11:10, I left the computer and checked the schedule again, which now had the Music History class covered over in marker with the word "free", meaning it had been cancelled. I left the campus.

The bus ride was long. The bus was almost empty. There was no one I recognized on the bus.

Walking into the house, I immediately smelled the cake (from a mix) from the oven. It smelled good. I asked if that was a Duncan Hines cake I smelled (generally my mother makes homemade cakes, but I prefer Duncan Hines), and my mother said yes, but it turned out it was Betty Crocker. No matter, Betty Crocker is pretty good too. She even got Betty Crocker icing for it, since I like that better than her own icing. She told me she'd be making lasagna for supper. All this got me excited. I decided not to write what had been going through my head all day on this blog, because what did that matter when my home is so nice to be in. I sat down at my computer to browse the web and play games, and Willy jumped into my lap.
Willy is so cute. I spent the $50 dollars I got for my birthday to order the Myst games from Amazon, which I should get in a week or so. Benjy has sent me some money as a gift, which I'll be saving for later. Miriam came home. I went to the music rehearsal for our shul (synagogue)'s dedication. I came back.

The lasagna was a disappointment. I found out that my mother had been so intent on creating the appearance of giving me my favorite food, that she apparently hadn't cared about the quality of the food. She had used a really lousy tomato sauce, which did not make for a very good lasagna. I got the keyboard I'll be playing on, so that I could get the hang of using it. I practiced playing on it, and found that it wouldn't sound good without a pedal. (The family I got the keyboard from has no pedal.) My family members all praised me for using it. I played very badly to see what they would think, and they complimented me some more. Then my family sang "Happy Birthday", and we had the cake, which was very good.


That was a very good cake, but it's food, and food doesn't last. But your friendship, Imaginary Friends, means more to me than all the "Happy Birthday" signs in the world. When I played my latest piece for you before on that Imaginary piano in the corner, you listened to it. Some of you liked it, some of you didn't, but both opinions meant more to me than you can imagine, because you actually thought about it.

And some of you showed me your latest works, and I took them seriously and gave my opinion. We shared words and thoughts. What more can one ask for, Imaginary Friends?
Hello? My imaginary friends...

Miriam started a blog, because she saw that I had made one. Since then, the girls have gone to sleep, and I ought to get to sleep too. Maybe Pussywillow will let me pet him on my bed. My parents are nagging me to finish up with the computer, to get to bed. "You have school tomorrow," my mother has just said. I'm going to sleep now.

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Friday, February 18, 2005

The Definitive Three-Step Method for Game Design

More and more often, I see articles denouncing the lack of complete freedom in games, linearity, cutscenes, etc. When describing the ideal future of gamism, the writers of such articles describe that such nuisances will be a thing of the past. They envision a future where all gamism allows as much freedom as you can possibly imagine. I personally think this philosophy could lead to some of the greatest experiences in the history of gamism. Furthermore, this way of thinking is fundamentally inadequate.

The logic goes something like this:
  • Gamism, unlike film, painting, literature, or dance and music [These two don't actually belong in this list, but most people wouldn't think of that.], is interactive.
  • Gamism should stand as one art form, alongside the existing art forms. [These people have not bothered to analyze gamism to find out what it really is, but they would like to attribute significance to their hobby and think that an art form is the most respectable entity it can be portrayed as.]
  • All existing art forms have been developing for a long time, but gamism is brand new, and obviously less refined.
  • The more similar gamism is to other, more developed art forms, the more likely it will seem outdated and superfluous next to the other art form it is [supposedly] competing with.
  • Therefore, gamism should always focus on the area in which it differs from all other art forms- interactivity. Any games which "overlap" in purpose with other art forms should be discouraged in order to encourage gamism to move uniformly in the right direction.
Note that I am not speaking of the Industrialists, but of people who are genuinely interested in the future of gamism for reasons other than personal greed. The Industrialists are interested in enabling more freedom only because this seems to make money (see Grand Theft Auto). They don't see gamism as an art form or a medium for art forms, but as a source of revenue. With them I cannot argue, as the Game Industry does in fact make money. But the more idealistic gamers who dislike restrictions are misguided. Say there were a game, with non-abstract graphics and a third-person perspective, in which the player does not play the main character, but an observer, the eyes through which a noninteractive story is told. This would be close enough to the accepted definition of videogames for all gamers to recognize it as a game. The "interactivists" would call it a waste of time and energy and recommend that no one play it. And they'd be completely missing the point. Just because it is played with a controller does not mean it is the same Form as, say, GTA. And if it is a different Form, then what's wrong with getting closer to literature and movies, as this game would? It doesn't pull back gamism, because the rest of gamism would not even be related to this game. Additionally, allowing diversity in gamism would attract new gamists by giving them Forms in which it is easier for them personally to express themselves. Allowing gamism to grow in many different directions will not necessarily lessen the positive growth in the area of interactivity, because the people who make GTA are not the same people who would compose in less interactive Forms.

Gamism should not try to set itself apart from nondigital art forms, but embrace them. However, each individual Form should set itself apart from other Forms. The epitome of unrestricted freedom, in my opinion, is the MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game). In case you've not heard of such games (World of Warcraft, for example), the concept is that many players are "living" in a virtual world on the internet, with a working economy which they should participate in. In these games, each player has a unique voice, and can choose from many different ways to play the game. This Form should be developed a lot, as I believe it has a very important role to play in the future of humanity - MMORPGs will eventually evolve into virtual reality societies in which people will spend more of their time than in the real world. But this Form is not and should never be allowed to be the end-all, be-all of gamism. If a gamist wants to tell a story, MMORPGs are a horrible medium in which to do so. He might put in cutscenes or other noninteractive elements, and this would be counterproductive and misguided. The noninteractive elements will feel completely out of place in this Form which is designed for maximum interactivity. The only way to make noninteractive elements work in a game similar to a MMORPG would be to branch off from the MMORPG Form in a different direction which does not give the player as much freedom, thus creating a different but related Form which would grow farther apart from the MMORPG Form as they develop over time. The more freedom you give to the player, the less artistic freedom the gamist has. How can you tell a story when you keep allowing the gamer to contradict you? Similarly, in less interactive Forms, the gamist must restrict the gamer's options in order to be able to express himself better.

Someone from Square-Enix once stated that the future of "games as an art form" lies in MMORPGs. This is actually fine by me, provided the company does not try to turn other Forms into MMORPGs. What it means is that Square-Enix will progress from now until the revolution in that direction, focusing on that particular Form as if it is the only existing type of game. If every game company were to believe that strongly only in the future of one Form, we'd have a nice variety of well-developed Forms, although creating more diversity might become tricky. The problem is when the press adopts positions which limit all of gamism to one singular path. For instance, in IGN's review of "Star Fox: Assault", Juan Castro wrote:
OverallAll [sic], Star Fox: Assault equips the same brand of action as before, yet it carries over the same limitations as well. In an age where complete freedom of movement is the norm, players will still find themselves confined to rails. Not to say these sections aren't fun, far from it, in fact, only to say that it's about time Star Fox and crew stepped into the present.
Now, I haven't played this game, but what kind of a ridiculous criticism is that?! Star Fox isn't a series of flight simulators, it's a series of 3D shmups (shoot-em-ups)! A reviewer can criticize a game for doing what it sets out to do badly, or getting distracted from what it sets out to do (this game, incidentally, looks like it suffers from this, but IGN's review doesn't care), but to criticize a game for not setting out to allow more freedom, for a Form in which freedom is more or less irrelevant, is absurd. If Mr. Castro and his IGN associates had their way, there would be nothing that did not allow them to do whatever they want. Their reviews impact the buying decisions of many gamers. If gamers are turned away from buying 3D shmups solely on account of their being on-rails shmups and not being "interactive enough", the shmup Form will never be developed. Who can possibly benefit from this?

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Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Help

Here is the text message which I sent Golan, who is Yardena's brother, a social worker, and a very nice guy:
I've been thinking about what you said: that trying to deal with psychological issues alone is counter-productive. I have a fundamental lack of willpower that I think qualifies as a neurosis. I've tried to deal with it myself for years now, and still I find myself unable to force myself to do even the tiniest things. How would I go about getting help?

15:45, 19 May

1 Comment:

Anonymous Tamir said:

That... was brave. I honestly never thought I'd see that happen with you, as you always seemed insistent that nothing is wrong with you.
My wife is going through a very similar problem right now, and we also recently decided to seek professional help. I really think that it could make a difference, and that it isn't anything to be ashamed of. I had a stint with a psychologist myself, and I feel the better for it.

Good luck with bettering yourself. I look forward to the day when you return to realizing your dreams.

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Friday, February 11, 2005

Professional Manipulation

Here's a funny website:
Mindbending Software
I got to it from Ludology.org. It's ridiculously unprofessional, and the spelling is lousy, but it's still pretty amusing. If there were such a company, you can bet they'd be making a killing.

Yesterday I had my first "counselling session" with one Dr. Elmaleh, who specializes in Asperger's Disorder. Asperger's Disorder is primarily a social problem: People with this disorder have a hard time reading other people's body language, and so find it hard to interact with others. The syndrome has all sorts of other side effects, all which I clearly have, but I had a hard time believing that I couldn't react correctly to other people. I asked Dr. Elmaleh, and he pointed out that I had already interrupted him four times. I had serious doubts as to whether this Dr. Elmaleh could help me. How could he, when all he does is talk and have me talk? What I need is a way to get out of this ridiculous game we are all expected to play. A counsellor cannot possibly help me with that while sitting in his seat and talking. Those uncertainties have now turned into a negative certainty. So why did I agree to come again next week? First of all, curiosity. I'd like to better understand the methods this Dr. Elmaleh uses to "help" his patients, as I'm sure they're very interesting. Secondly, he can help me to understand why I have trouble making friends. I have another reason, but now is not the time to speak of that.

Dr. Elmaleh asked me what I would do with my life if the system were flexible enough to allow it. I told him I would like to make videogames. He asked me for more information, and I gave him what he asked for. I would like to make a 2D platformer. It would have a unique and original control scheme similar to acrobatics, which would not just be for glitter but would be useful. The structure would be based loosely on the Legend of Zelda structure. There would be no action, only the exhiliration of falling through the air, avoiding obstacles, reaching new heights.

Did that paragraph seem a little out of place in this post? Of course it did. Dr. Elmaleh couldn't care less about my platforming ideas. This first counselling session was about getting me to trust him. I don't, although he may trust me. He is working on me with standard rules, trying to defeat me with the box he has placed around himself. But I am not in a box, and I will never put one around myself. He's a few months too late to kill me- I have rediscovered Nonazang. I was willing to resign the game, when Dr. Elmaleh entered my life. He told me not to try to quit the system, but to play it. And so I shall. Imaginary Friends, you may not yet understand what I'm talking about, but know this. I am not one to do what I am told. At least not as I am told.

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

In case it's not already obvious: I never had any idea what that ending was supposed to mean. I was waiting for an opportunity to do something that would justify that post, and retroactively make it seem like I had been clever. That's how improv works- act like everything you did was absolutely deliberate, as opposed to a shallow outbreak of emotion. Sometimes it doesn't go so well.

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Thursday, February 10, 2005

Ah, the life of a cat.

I love cats. I think God put them on this planet for two reasons:
  1. To enjoy their lives
  2. To look impossibly cute doing so

Now, normally I don't care about appearances, but when something is so obviously designed with the "cute factor" in mind, I think I can make an exception. So I'll say that I have a gorgeous cat. And boy, does he love his life. His name is Pussywillow, but we call him Willy for short. I'm anthropomorphizing him here (a perfectly natural, irrational thing for humans to do), but I think in some ways he's similar to me. He doesn't ask for much, just a little food and water and shelter. And he's satisfied with it. He doesn't like sticking around when there are guests over, but he's very friendly with me. Whenever I sit by the TV (usually to play a Gamecube game), Willy comes running so that he can sit in my lap. Of course he's mainly coming because he knows I'll pet him, but I love that kind of relationship more than the unconditional phoniness I get from certain members of my extended family. I probably wouldn't go to someone myself unless I thought I could get some pleasure out of being with them.

What does Willy choose to do with his life? Well, mainly sleep, to tell the truth. He has around fifty different "sleep spots" around the house. His favorites are the dollhouse above the TV (yes, inside the dollhouse), the side of the couch in the living room, the rocking chair by the computer, and on top of the clean laundry. When he feels like it, he goes outside to get some more activity. But when he doesn't, he doesn't. Sometimes, he just looks out windows to take in the "scenery". You may think it's ridiculous to assume that a cat would be able to appreciate a static view like a human can, but why would he do it if he weren't enjoying himself? I think cats can naturally enjoy their surroundings, as all the house cats we had acted the same way. There is much elegance in the life of a creature who never bothers himself with the artificial nuisances the Real World throws at him, who can enjoy life because there's no system telling him not to. Now if he could just use a Gamecube controller, his life would be perfect.

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Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Small and Insignificant

It turns out I can't play my original piece for my exam. Figures.

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Golden Fun: The Lost Age

It was a simple project. "Land of Creativity," it was called, or something like that. We were asked to create a fictional country, and answer questions such as, "What is your country's national anthem?" and "What are the national holidays in your country?" Our sixth grade English teacher, David Gower, expected and wanted stupidity. I think the example he gave of a fictional country was "Coca-cola Land". I hated that teacher. All my fellow sixth graders followed his example, inventing boring derivative countries such as "Chocolate Land", "Hockey Land", etc. Yawn. I wasn't one to do what I was told as I was told, though. My inspired choice was to make the fact that my country was nonexistant be the defining element of my country. I named it Nonazang, and decided that it would exist 13 miles past the middle of Nowhere. That is, if you ever get so lost that you find yourself in the middle of Nowhere (Nowhere containing all nonexistant places, separate from Somewhere which contains all existant places), and then go thirteen miles past that, you'll get there. Their flag was a white piece of paper. For their anthem, I even added music to the lyrics, so I think it was my very first musical composition. But of course, the music contained only one repeating note, that being C. One has to start somewhere, I suppose. The questions I received pushed me to reach new levels of inspired insanity, precisely because I never answered the questions in the spirit they were asked. I devised an entire system of ineffectual government, of an ineffectual society, of a completely useless but ultimately endearing culture. When I was asked to describe a great war that took place in my country, I skillfully dodged the question by stating that while no war had ever taken place in Nonazang, every war that had ever taken place in Nonazang was won by Nonazang's armies of Themselves. (What the Themselves would have done, I explained, is bore the enemies to death. Literally.) But then I got a question which I simply could not answer. I was supposed to describe something interesting that had happened in Nonazang. I patiently explained to David Gower that this contradicted the three Laws of Nonazangian Nonoccurence:
  1. Nothing interesting has ever happened in Nonazang.
  2. Nothing interesting is happening in Nonazang.
  3. Nothing interesting will ever happen in Nonazang.
David Gower wasn't interested. I never wrote anything that creative after that year. Except for music, which became my refuge from a world which doesn't care for abstract, unpractical imagination.

Here's an interesting thing I've discovered. While I'm writing, I have no idea where I'm heading. I just improvise as I go along. But God always has a greater structure in mind for me, and this only becomes clear in retrospect. The 5-year time frame between second and sixth grade was clearly one "movement" of my life. After that, there is another five-year movement, which will soon be coming to a close. The former started out badly, got better up to the middle, and then got worse until the end, at which point I had become depressed to the point of wanting death. The current movement began as the high point of my life, and has been descending ever since in the Real World, while my love of videogame worlds was only hinted at in the first year and has been increasing ever since. In the middle, when I was applying for schools because the one I was in, Dvir yeshiva for Music and Art, was closing, I was asked for one application what I would like to change about myself for the future. My answer was: "I would like to be more serious." "Why?" they asked. "Because it's good to be serious," was the best response I had.

A month or two ago, I was looking for a book in my closet, when I came across my old Nonazang papers. I read them with pride and a little disbelief. I had completely forgotten that I was capable of such writing! It was then that I understood that the Mory of five years ago, who had not been training himself to fit into the Real World and only cared about his own imagination and quirkiness, was a much better person than me. And I have tried my best, in sharp contrast to the past five years, to not act my age. And you know what? It's much more fun. That didn't stop my second serious depression period from coming, but it gave me a way to deal with it. So what if I have no hope in the Real World? The Real World is my enemy. It always has been. I can't stop my miserable relationship with it, but I can ignore it as I did five years ago. And now I will succeed, because I have other worlds to occupy myself with.

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Monday, February 07, 2005

Every structure should have an exit.

A few days ago, I finished The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time for around the tenth time. This time, I was paying a lot of attention to the overarching structure of the piece, in the interest of eventually writing a comprehensive review. For the most part, the intent behind the structure was very clear. But I was completely baffled by the final dungeon. It followed the spirit of the structure so loosely, that I was sure there was a mistake. The very next day in school (obviously not coincidentally), my Music History teacher gave me the answer I was looking for. We had just started Israeli music, and she mentioned in passing that with every new language, new ideology, new structure, the first few works are more of a "proof of concept" than artistic achievements. They follow their concepts precisely, trying to prove that they work. As such, they are rarely played, because once the novelty has worn out (as it should if the composition is successful in paving the way for other works) there's not a whole lot to care about in them. Miyamoto's genius lies in the fact that he takes his steps forward for granted. The last dungeon of OoT creates a new dimension to the Zelda structure which was not present previously, and yet it is largely ignored. Why? Because it doesn't fit in with Miyamoto's artistic vision for this particular composition. It is art first, and proof of concept second. Any lesser gamist would have been satisfied with the innovation, and produced something not worthy of remembering. We see that it is important to be willing to break out of the structure, even as you are working in it.

Today I have been trying to change the layout of this blog to better serve my posts. Everything I say is assuming that you have read my previous posts and understand as much as you need to know at that point of my strange, convoluted style of writing, my over-inflated ego, my lack of interest in the Real World, my philosophies regarding videogames, etc. Everything I write will be developed later on. So it makes not much sense to have the first thing a new Imaginary reader sees when he visits be the latest post. What I wanted to do was an interface that only shows you one post at a time, starting from the beginning, but lets you quickly and easily cycle through the posts. The site would use cookies to remember what the most recent post you read was, so you wouldn't need to go through all of them each time. In my mind, I was already working out all the finer details when my train of thought crashed into the Reality of Blogger. Everything is managed by Blogger without the user's intervention, so there's no way to even do something so simple as change the order that the posts are presented in, much less what I was planning. All it lets you do is modify the basic appearance of the blog, as if that really matters, not anything more important. At least I was able to improve the way comments are handled, but even many Imaginary Friends of mine will not be interested by my site the way it is currently laid out, because unless they've been following my blog from the beginning, they won't see the posts in their proper order.

But nothing on the internet can compare to the pesky rigidity of most of the Real World. If a person cannot cope with the unforgiving and arbitrary rules of capitalism, why can't they "quit the program"? It should be a basic human right for all societies to have at least one alternative to capitalism! But the architects of this structure, and all others like it for that matter, were not interested in serving the people, but imprisoning them. If you don't like this jail, you're free to commit suicide. Oh, right, I forgot, that's not a respected option! Society will try with every means at their disposal to stop you. That's the Real World. Lovely, ain't it?

1 Comment:

 Mory said:

I disagree with this post. (I also dislike its style, but that's a different issue.) Ocarina of Time's last dungeon would have been better if it had followed its structure better. (I'm pretty sure what I was referring to was how it brings back all the themes from the rest of the game.) The arguments made in this post are vague and unsatisfactory.

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Sunday, February 06, 2005

My family

My relationship with the rest of my immediate family is fairly complex, despite not entirely existing. Come to think of it, I don't entirely understand that sentence myself, so let's start over. My family is strange. Yes, that's a bit more comprehensible, and I think it's indisputable, so it's a good starting point. It's strange in a similar way to an Escher painting, in that each individual part makes perfect sense on its own, but has a completely different perspective to all other parts of the painting, so that looking at the whole thing gives you a headache and makes you wonder how all those parts can have been put in one picture. Or, at least, it gives me a headache. I don't know about the rest of my family, since I don't really understand them. You know what, this paragraph is incomprehensible, and I'm not quite sure I have any idea what I'm talking about. Let's start over.


I find my family strange. Now, I think this is how many people feel about their families, but my case is a bit stranger, I think. Most people can explain what is so strange about their families, and can explain away the particular ways of thinking their family members have which particularly get on their nerves. But I don't understand how anyone in my family thinks. I do notice certain strong patterns in their behaviors, and this is good because it means I can sometimes have a good idea of what to expect from them even though I don't have any idea why they do what they do. I am told that family is important, so I might as well describe my family members to you. But I can't guarantee that anything I say about them is correct, because I am basing these descriptions on my own impressions of my family, which as you should have gathered by now is a bit muddled.

My father is a doctor and is often out at work. I don't mind this at all, because it means I can play games, watch TV shows on my computer, watch movies on my computer, write on forums, write on my blog, and generally have a good time. When he comes home, fun is the first thing to go. He has a lot of unspoken rules which he would like to enforce. One of these unspoken rules is that any fun is forbidden for prolonged periods, where "prolonged periods" is defined as more than two minutes and seven seconds. Oh, and fun is forbidden in the morning for any period of time. And when I am having fun, I may not get too involved in it so as not to give the impression that I am enjoying myself to an unhealthy degree. Failure to comply with these or any of the other 92 unspoken rules lead to punishment. Punishment consists of having my father's face three quarters of a centimeter from my eyes as he recites the unspoken rule I have violated in louder and louder tones, plus having to suffer my father's wrath. This consists of any punishment my father thinks of once he has lost his temper. The goal is to instill respect for my father and more importantly, respect for discipline. Yes, my father upholds the time-honored tradition of the disciplinarian, trying to prove to himself he is a good parent by making the children fear him. I'm always glad to see him get out of the house.

My mother is a lawyer. No, not that kind of lawyer, because she wouldn't hurt a fly if it were jumping up and down on her head along with all its fly friends. To tell the truth, she never wanted to be a lawyer, but her parents did. To the best of my knowledge, she has never in her life done anything to please herself, instead trying to please others. She says that her parents weren't happy about her marrying a religious man, but I suspect she was just trying to make him happy. She can't stand the idea of having fun, because it's simply not productive. So she will go to great lengths to give herself as much work and little fun as possible, even though she wants everyone to know she hates it. Yes, she complains every so often about how no one helps her in the house, but I'm convinced she'd be very disappointed to have someone else do housework for her. It would make her feel inadequate. Since I am not one to argue with something like that, I sit and play games while she works. Her job is writing things that the lawyers who actually do do something will use, and she does this over the internet, so she stays at home all the time. She seems to have only two things in her life that she enjoys: chatting with all the neighbors, and Shabbat (Saturday), when she can sit down and read the newspaper. As a parent, she's not as good as my father but much more likeable. She tries to prove to herself that she's a good parent by being as nice to us as possible, which is always nice for us, at least in the short term. I think that she actually can't stand me but she forces herself to because I'm family and family is said to be so important. What she doesn't like about me is that I'm so abnormal, whereas she has learned over the course of her life to put up with normality.

My older brother Benjy (or Ben, as he since recently calls himself) is the rebel, but he never allows himself to notice that he's rebelling. He is a tremendous rationalizer, thanks no doubt in some degree to his practice in debating. (He was on the Israeli young debating team and went to international competitions, which he did well in.) I respect him more than anyone else in my family because of this skill. The only trouble is that he seems to get the end result of his rationalization mixed up with the actual cause of what it was he was rationalizing. He is an atheist, and says our rituals are silly. That's fine by me, although I completely disagree with him, because it leads to some very interesting arguments. My parents hate getting into arguments with him, in part because they almost always lose, in part because they don't know how to enjoy it. He's in America now, at Boston University, and I'm not really keeping in touch with him. When he left, I wrote him an artistic goodbye note which perfectly summed up my feelings about his leaving, which I am positive he never understood and took to be gibberish. I have very few interests in common with him. TV shows, maybe certain movies, and that's it. I tried to get him interested in videogames, but he didn't care. Except for a few games which are hardly masterpieces but are pretty fun nonetheless- Commandos 1&2, Splinter Cell. I could rarely talk to him because I wanted to talk about videogames and he really really didn't. But my interests are somewhat limited.

And then there's me. I won't go on in length, because you already should have gotten a decent sense of what I'm like. But I will say that I am by far my favorite member of the family.

My little sister Miriam bothers me somewhat. I think she's fairly normal for a teenaged girl, which is to say that I find her shallow and irritating. For the most part, I ignore her and she comments on what a moron I am. I tried to get her interested in Zelda and failed. But she did like the game Yoshi's Island, so I keep trying to introduce her to new games in hope that I will eventually be able to share one of my favorite games with her. Every time she gets bored or gives up or just generally does not notice the beauty of the game. I think she finds my habit of trying to get her to play games detestable, but that's never stopped me.

Finally there's Dena, who reminds me more than anything of my grandmother on my father's side. She is somewhat bossy, but I think she's always trying to act as "normal" as possible. She does occasionally act a little weird, and I like her for that. She often gets very aggravated at me at how little common sense I have, and I sometimes find this bewildering, sometimes amusing. I think she loves Benjy more than any of us. As far as games, she plays Mario Party with her friends and isn't really good enough to play anything else.

The thing that bothers me most about my family is that there is not one person in it who can appreciate The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. When you play a game that good, you naturally want to share it with someone, but there is no one here who cares. Anyhow, that's my family. But I may be completely wrong.

3 Comments:

Tsachi said:

I really am in no state to argue with you about your family members & to a certain extent you did a great job (definitely an entertaining one)- but to call Miriam shallow is like to call her a rabid cow- there's NO truth in, around, or even near it…
lol, & you mused have a wonderful family if what bothers you most about them is that they can't appreciate Zelda.

 Mory said:

It's amusing to see that Miriam has a loyal defender. My comments are based on my own personal experiences. In those experiences I have never, not even once, had the perception that Miriam is shallow and pretentious challenged by her own behavior. On the other hand, I have been very clear about not understanding my family, especially in this post, so I could be missing the truth.

I suppose you have a point about my family as a whole, though. While you might not see the importance I attribute to being able to share Zelda, there is certainly something to be said for their all-around inoffensiveness.

 Mory said:

By the way, I wouldn't say Miriam is a rabid cow because that claim doesn't hold up to scrutiny. She has none of the visual characteristics of a cow, does not moo, and has not bitten at any time I can clearly recall in years.

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Thursday, February 03, 2005

The cancellation of Star Trek: Enterprise

I guess I'm one of the few people on this planet who actually enjoyed this show. No, it's not great TV, but it's solid entertainment. In the past year in particular it's gotten to be pretty great entertainment. For those of you Imaginary Friends crying out, "What? After all this talk about artistry over popular entertainment you bemoan the death of a wholly unartistic show?" I say that I have nothing against unartistic entertainment (I like Super Mario, for example, and that's not exactly a work of art), except when it comes at the expense of better things. Until very recently, with the coming of the brilliant new Battlestar Galactica, there were no such "better things" in sci-fi TV, and I don't think Star Trek was to blame for that. Thanks to some of the new talent Enterprise has brought on, the show keeps getting better and better, so it's a real shame it had to end like this. My hope is that in syndication it gets a bigger following, until eventually Paramount decides to wrap up Enterprise's story somehow.

In the meantime, I'll be watching BSG. I've been downloading copies of the British broadcasts off the internet, since we don't have a working TV and it's not on any stations here in Israel anyway. Okay, sue me. Anyhow, every single episode is fantastic. The first season ends in a two-parter which is without a doubt the most artful hour and a half of TV I've ever seen, in any genre. I cannot recommend this series enough. If any of you IFs has a TV, watch this show. If you can't, then tape it. Or watch a rerun. But watch it in order from beginning to end, if you can.

However, I would still like to see something made of Trek. Its universe has become so rich thanks to all the development it's gotten over the years, that it would be a terrible waste not to use it. Obviously, what I'd like most is a new iteration in some interactive Form, but I doubt this will ever happen. In general, TV shows are thrown to the worst teams in the Game Industry for them to feed on. The trouble is that the decision to make these shows into games is not made by talent but by businessmen. There is a little hope on the horizon for interactive adaptations of movies, as the genius Michel Ancel (Rayman 2, Beyond Good & Evil) is making a game based on Peter Jackson's King Kong remake. If this goes well, there is a slight possibility (okay, very slight) that it will set a precedent for games to come. But in the field of TV show adaptations, there is not even that faint glimmer. So a Trek game is not on my wish list. They'd probably just make it into an action game as they always have. (Note the irony.) No, it should be a TV series, but if they're already starting from scratch, they might as well go in a different direction. The ensemble cast concept has been done to death. How about making a show about one individual? As long as the Star Trek universe is utilized, and utilized well, and the show is entertaining, I'll be happy.

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Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Mark Ecko, welcome to the Game Industry

GameCube: DICE 2005: Marc Ecko Challenges Industry
Here is an excellent capitalist, who seems to understand the common man, and doesn't give a damn about gamism as long as it makes him money. I don't know what's sadder- his idea that this infinite area for artistic potential should be reduced to an assembly-line set of rules designed to squeeze as much money out of the average idiot as possible, or the thought that those fools will buy his junk, encouraging other Industry heads to listen to what he has to say over the gamists' inspiration.

You know, the name "Ecko" is quite appropriate. He doesn't have any voice of his own, ideas that he personally would like, he just echoes society. But echoes don't last long. When society gets bored, the fad that he has started will not hold any interest anymore. Since his list of rules doesn't require that the games be artistic, they will not be able to fall back on being good games. And so he will go on, changing with society, creating nothing worthy of being kept. I really hope he can't make a successful game.

2 Comments:

Anonymous said:

How so very true. Your statemnet is agreeable in every sense of the word. Keeping LESS people like him in 'gamism'(im still not quite used to the term..) should be beneficial in the cause of games finally rising to a point where it is considered a valid art form by the world.

visit me: http://uselesscamouflage.blogdrive.com/

 Mory said:

That's an interesting way of looking at it, which I hadn't considered. I wasn't thinking of how the world would react to videogames, but rather how much potential there is for great games. I guess the two are related, though.

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Semantics

" 'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean -- neither more nor less.'
'The question is,' said Alice, 'whether you CAN make words mean so many different things.'
'The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, 'which is to be master - - that's all.' "

-Lewis Carroll, "Through the Looking Glass"
Before entering a monologue or ten on videogames, I need to explain my feelings about certain terminology which has developed. Firstly, I don't like the usage of the term "game industry" to refer to games in general. To call great experiences like Metroid and Zelda products of an industry is practically desecration in my opinion. Calling games part of an industry implies that they are being made systematically, that the only reason to make them is to make money. Now, I don't doubt that that is true of certain companies' games, so whenever I want to refer to that particular branch of games derogatorily, I will call it the "Game Industry". Actually, I think the description "videogame" should be a bit archaic. Imagine the world a few centuries from now, when machines (inevitably) do all the meaningless chores with which we currently are forced to occupy ourselves. I think it's easy to imagine many people who will live in virtual worlds which are a logical extension of today's MMORPGs, and then isn't calling it a "videogame" a bit silly?! Not that we're anywhere near that stage, unfortunately, but it's the same medium. Also, a "game" is by implication primarily entertainment (and not art), which is not always true of videogames. But alas, I do not know of a better term for the medium, and so I am forced to use this inadequate one. If someone comes up with a better phrase, I'll use it. In the meantime, I will try to refer to each Form [of game] as its own entity ("Platformer," "Movie," "Book," "Adventure") rather than compare apples to oranges by using the collective "videogames". I will refer to games as a whole as "gamism". Similarly, I don't like the technical-sounding term "developer" when referring to creative positions, so I will use "gamist". And of course there is the adjective and adverb forms of the word: "gamistic" and "gamistically".

Another thing which I should explain: When I say "Form," (as I did in the last paragraph) I'm referring to any form of either art or entertainment, interactive or noninteractive or anything in between, because theoretically all forms of art and entertainment are encompassed in gamism. Okay, I'll back up a little. Here's a riddle I love asking: Say you have an electronic piano which is plugged into a video game console which is plugged into a TV. In the console is a program which reads sheet music (which either is on the disc or needs to be downloaded off the internet). This program keeps track of where you are in the music as you play it. This music program is a videogame, where the player is responding to symbols on the screen with his controller, which happens to be an electronic piano. Before you say that this isn't really a videogame, consider that Dance Dance Revolution is pretty much the same, with a special controller with which you must respond to on-screen symbols at the right time. The only substantial difference is that music, being around for millennia, has reached a stage where it allows for a lot of depth.
A second example: you have a VR headset, and are strapped into a machine that tracks every movement you make, and allows you to run in place, jump, etc. Now run a sports game- say, soccer. This will be practically indistinguishable from the real thing. Now, as I've said in a previous post, this is sort of a waste of money, but you have admit this is a possible game. (In this example, the movement machine is your controller, and the headset is the screen.) This shows that interactive entertainments such as sports will also theoretically be part of gamism, when sooner or later the technology necessary to create these experiences becomes available.
Finally, I'll take a noninteractive Form- movies. If a movie were made in the format of a videogame console (very easy), you could put it in your console, watch it on the TV, and use the controller as a remote control. This, too, is contained in gamism.
All in all, Gamism is defined as containing both all of Art and all of Entertainment, converted into a digital format. By my definition, a videogame is any member of gamism.


Another phrase I like to use is "Impatient Phoenix," which I use mainly to refer to Nintendo's latest efforts. A pheonix is a bird which dies and is reborn from the ashes. An Impatient Pheonix kills itself early so that it can be born again, its favorite part of life. I think this is a bad idea, because it can never get past infancy if it gets into this routine. This problem is called Impatient Pheonix Syndrome (IPS). Since Nintendo has been calling their DS a "third pillar" next to Gamecube and Game Boy Advance, and since Nintendo's lineup for it seems based on IPS, the Nintendo DS shall be called the Pillar of the Impatient Phoenix, at least until Nintendo stops killing itself.


For now - - that's all.

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Thursday, January 27, 2005

Sports games


I've never understood the appeal of modern sports videogames. Every year, a new edition is released which has, every time, a more powerful graphics engine and updated player stats. And sometimes, there will be some advance in the control so that you can play a more realistic game more easily. Notice anything in common with these updates? They all serve only to bring the game closer to realism, the ultimate goal. I don't know about you, IFs, but to me this seems ridiculous. Why put so much time, money, and effort into the technology that will bring sports a little bit closer to real sports, when we already have real sports without the technology?! Is it so hard to pick up a ball, walk outside, and [gasp] play the real game? The kind of realism you get that way is just astounding. Plus, it's a hell of a lot cheaper. But these imitators continue to sell in outrageous numbers year in, year out, for reasons I cannot fathom. Here is the second greatest and by far the most flexible medium for art in the whole of human history, and it is trapped in an Industry which promotes mimicry over creativity; an Industry thanks which the most successful game form of all is sports games. Pathetic, isn't it?

From a capitalist viewpoint, this is great. The average Joe sportsfan (read: "sucker") seems to be content with getting nothing more than a gimmick for his 50 bucks. Whoever figured this out is a genius at ripping people off. For the uninformed customer the words videogame and gimmick are practically synonymous, so he will be very satisfied by what he is getting. And so he will buy the same game year after year after year, the same game he could play for himself -and probably does- by picking up a ball, with the same athletes he could see for real -and probably does- by turning on his TV. He'll keep buying it over and over, because his expectations for sports games have been defined by the people who are selling him the game, and they don't have anything to gain (except for an insignificant thing called quality) for making those expectations high. If they were to let the consumer know that he'd have more fun if they were less interested in realism and more interested in letting him have fun, then they'd have to be creative, because their consumers would demand it. And if you're the head of a big business in the Game Industry, you feel much safer knowing that all you need to make a big profit each year is copying reality better, and not improving the game.


Once upon a time, there was a company that set out to make good games. While companies on the other side of the world tried to make games as banal, as familiar as possible, they went entirely in the other direction, making games that were first and foremost good games. So I don't know how to take this announcement:
Nintendo® Pennant Chase Baseball brings video game play to a new level of excitement and reality with fan-favorite players and teams... Nintendo Pennant Chase Baseball, developed by Exile Interactive and Nintendo, includes players from every Major League Baseball® team. Players will be able to compete in all 30 current Major League™ ballparks, as well as in a few from the past. To ensure a completely authentic experience, the game has been licensed by Major League Baseball Properties, the Major League Baseball Players Association and the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum®, with statistics and ratings provided by STATS, Inc... Nintendo Pennant Chase Baseball will feature new game modes that combine the authenticity of Major League Baseball with the great game play that consumers have come to expect from Nintendo.
Which is it, excitement or reality?! Is this Nintendo selling out, or are they really working to make this, as they claim, "the great game play that consumers have come to expect from Nintendo"? I have extremely mixed feelings on this. For one thing, it is artistically wrong and destroys Nintendo's integrity. But on the other hand, it makes Nintendo money. So there will be one of two possible outcomes: 1. Nintendo will have more money to make the artistically honest games I've come to expect from them. 2. Nintendo will realize that they can make much more money from artistically dishonest games and switch sides. The way Nintendo is positioning the DS has me inclined to believe the latter. So the question on my mind is: Which game is Nintendo playing?

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 Mory said:

Well, as it happened, this game was never released- Nintendo must have had second thoughts. Good for them.

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Monday, January 24, 2005

The elusive key to longevity, Part 1

From a post on Gamecritics under my alias, MoriartyL:
When I first played The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, I was convinced that it was a classic which would be playable for a very long time. That conviction has deteriorated rapidly with each successive playthrough. I find that each time I play, I enjoy it less than I did the time before, and now it seems the only enjoyment I can get from the game is watching other people play and imagining what kind of experience they must be going through. The other day, I tried starting the game again, got up to Windfall Island, and turned it off because of boredom, because it felt so old. I still like the characters, the art style, and to some degree the story, and the game is just dripping with personality. The first time I played, I was blown away. But for some reason, all that I liked about the game has disappeared.

In sharp contrast stands Metroid Prime. The first time I played it, I considered it a very good game, but nothing spectacular. This is because I had yet to internalize the revelation that it was for me- that the point (in this particular case) was not the gameplay, but the environment. The second time, I was already used to the interface, and I knew what to expect from the gameplay, so I was blown away by the beauty of Tallon IV. But my appreciation of the game didn't end there, as I find that each time I come back I seem to enjoy it even more than the time before. Counterintuitively, my familiarity with the game world enrichens the experience of exploration rather than trivializing it.

I wondered if the problem with The Wind Waker was an inherent flaw in Zelda games in general, so I started up Ocarina of Time. I didn't even need to get into the first dungeon to realize that it was infinitely more playable than the newer game. Immediately I was reminded subconsciously of why I loved the game so much to begin with. My familiarity with the game (having already played it countless times) does not enhance the experience ala MP, but I don't think it seriously detracts from it either. In trying to explain to myself the clear distinction I have between the two Zelda games, the best I can do is that OoT is more subtle. But I'm sure that's not it, and besides, that's a pretty vague assessment. So I turn the problem over to you, in the hopes that you will be able to make sense of what I cannot. Why does Metroid Prime get better with age, and why does The Wind Waker get worse, while Ocarina of Time seems to stand still?

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Oh, no. Conflicted about the blog? Already?!

Imaginary Friends, I'm only a few days and two posts in, and I'm already wondering how the blog should work. You see, IFs are typically pretty quiet, being imaginary and all. But sometimes, as in the most recent issues I have been thinking about, I don't have answers, only questions. For these cases, I need feedback so that I can get a clearer view and update my opinion accordingly. And I'm sorry, IFs, but I don't trust you to give that kind of feedback. So I have decided to bring my issues to the Gamecritics.com forums whenever I am particularly confused. I'm not sure how to involve this personal blog in such matters, so for the time being I will post my thoughts at the beginning (taken directly from the forums, when possible, to save time and effort, as I'm quite lazy) and end (the point when I have acquired a greater clarity) of these debates. Feel free to post any comments if you have them.

1 Comment:

Anonymous said:

I'm tired. Why am I still online?!
Go away blog, go away. I need sleep.

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Friday, January 21, 2005

Myst and Mirages

A few days ago, I finished the original 1993 game "Myst" for the first time. If you haven't played it but enjoy puzzles and exploration, I highly recommend it. The ending in particular was spectacular. It was something like this:
"Oh, by the way, thanks for freeing me from the prison in which I would have been stuck for all eternity if not for you."
[continues scribbling in his book casually as if nothing has happened]
"Oh, and I don't have any reward for you."
[more scribbling]
"I'll need your help in the sequel to rescue my wife from another world, after which I'll still have nothing to offer you in return. Bye now."
Okay, so maybe the ending wasn't so great. But the rest of the game was. As with some of my favorite games (most notably the Zelda series), it tries to allow the player complete immersion in the game world. It is often challenging, but the effort you put in is always (excepting the ending) rewarded. There are few experiences as satisfying as solving a puzzle effortlessly precisely because you had the intuition earlier on to make a detailed hint of something which seemed like a clue. That experience is the essence of Myst, as getting to know the environment is the essence of Metroid. And while I'm already mentioning Myst and Metroid in the same context, I might as well point out that both models are carefully crafted to encourage exploration, although in completely different ways. So it's appropriate that I played Myst immediately after Metroid Prime 2: Echoes.

In parallel, I've been working (in the so-called "Real World") on a musical composition I started nearly a year ago. It started out (back then) when my composition teacher, very professional and also a very nice guy, advised me to write a piece based on a dodecaphonic (serial music) theme. If you're not familiar with that style of composition, then a little extra knowledge can't hurt: Arnold Schoenberg, a 20th century composer, invented serial music after having completely done away with the tonal system which music had always been based on. He knew that a new discipline of music was required to give music better structures, so he devised a method of composition, where the musical theme would be composed of all twelve possible notes in a specific order. Okay, that's a little too much- I'm getting bored myself. Anyhow, I quickly came up with a theme which not only follows the laws of serial music strictly, but sounds tonal. I liked that, because I've always liked tonal music more than atonal music anyway. Then I expanded on it into a very short piece of only around half a page in a way that resembled a Bach fugue- the theme weaved in and out of itself in the various voices. I put in the theme's opposite order, and the theme's "opposite" theme, and the opposite order of the opposite theme, having all these weave in and out of each other, and somehow managed to make it sound nice despite its complexity. I was so proud of myself, I could have valiantly declared it a triumph for the spirit of mankind, the symbol of man making beauty of meaningless but complex (in a fun way) systems, etc. Of course my teacher didn't like it. He said, "It's nice, but I feel that this should be the fourth variation!" In other words, it didn't have a satisfying beginning. Undeterred, I set to work on another page to precede it, this time using a more simple harmony to not only provide a nice contrast to my original page, but also to feel more like the beginning of a piece and less like an exciting climax. I now had a nice short piece, with a beginning and an ending, and a nice symmetry because I had designed the new page to be similar in structure to the old one despite being completely different in style. I took it to my composition teacher, who said, "It's nice, but I feel this should be the tenth variation!" I was afraid that if I wrote ten new beginnings I'd find myself on the 957th variation, so I scrapped what I had done and started over on an altogether more ambitious piece.

I later named that piece "Variations on V.O.V.", and that should give you a concept of how complex and precise the structure is. ("V.O.V." stands for "Variations on V.O.V.", in case you didn't figure it out.) Although it frequently makes complete changes in styles and musical disciplines and is constantly (I hope) surprising the listener, it actually follows a rigid path in which the composition is made up of seven variations on the piece itself. To clarify, the structure of each of the seven variations is based carefully on the overall structure of the entire piece, which as I said contains those seven variations. I finished up four or five variations in an early draft (knowing, of course, what the complete structure would be like), and brought it to my composition teacher. I'm sorry, Imaginary Friends, but I don't have a quote of what he said because I don't remember precisely what it was, but the gist was that he thought it could be much better if I just added a little bit here, and removed that part there, and shortened this thing, and lengthened that thing- i.e. destroyed the extremely delicate structure I had set up. Not to insult my teacher- I'm sure he didn't realize how much damage he'd be doing to the piece's integrity. But he clearly didn't see the brilliance of the structure which I had spent weeks working on perfecting, if he saw the structure at all.

Around a week ago, I got back to work because I had found out that I might be able to play an original piece for my piano exam instead of a horrid -no, repulsive piece of junk of some modernist Israeli "composer", and I use the term loosely. I refined some parts that I hadn't felt worked well even when I wrote them, corrected one tiny mistake (it was only one measure) and completed another half a section. I brought it to my piano teacher, who has won many international awards for her playing, who had nothing to say about its structure, because she didn't even notice it. She told me that she is a pianist, not a composer. To which I wanted to yell at her, "And what exactly are you playing on the piano if not music which you are capable of understanding?" But of course I didn't, despite my general lack of manners, because I understood that she genuinely had no idea what effort I had put into it.


Now, you might ask, why am I writing about Myst and Variations on V.O.V. in the same post? To which my answer is, I'm writing this, not you, and who do you think you are to tell me what is connected and what isn't?! I don't need to justify it to you! I can write a post about two unconnected subjects if I want, and I certainly don't need to explain the connection to people who don't see it themselves! Ha!


Getting back to the subject, when I saw how little reward I was getting for my hard effort, I started thinking to myself that if life were released as a $50 videogame, it would be universally abhorred, because it would be quite a lousy game. Let's compare Earth and Myst, shall we?

In Myst, every book you come across is filled with interesting information. Moreover, you always know that that information will come in handy sooner or later.
In the real world, every book that is shoved down your throat in school was written by people with PhD's in Boredom Development. Moreover, you always know that the information contained in it will come in handy on the exam which will be designed only to discover whether you have digested the material so well that it is imprinted on your brain, and you are guaranteed that after that it will never be useful again. Ever.

In Myst, your time is spent walking around, enjoying the scenery, learning about the areas, and being mentally stimulated. This is fun.
In school, your time is spent sitting in one place, staring at your watch, having a "disciplinarian" spout out gibberish you are meant to recite back to them later on (so reducing your mind to the usefulness of a tape recorder is advised), and watching your brain cells melt away. This is boring, which is good because it prepares children for the rest of life, which will be much worse.

In Myst, all effort you put in is rewarded.
In the real world, effort is useless.

In Myst, you have a goal which is attainable but challenging.
In the real world, any long term goals are unattainable, so you must become more flexible and learn to follow the singular boring path the world has prepared.

...And so on. Is it just me, or is Myst more real than the real world?

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Thursday, January 20, 2005

This is the first blog post I ever wrote.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time, but you can clearly see the seeds of the craziness to come in the red text here.

The "Next Post" buttons at the end of each post will allow you to read the blog in its original order.

Who am I?

Back to 2010

Dear Imaginary Friends,

Hello. This is my blog. I don't actually expect anyone to read this, but as long as you're here, I ought to get started. So, um, hello. As I said, this is my blog. And I, uh, didn't expect you to be here. Should I get started? Or maybe I should just ramble on a little longer, or-
Disclaimer: The writer of this blog does not take any responsibility for extreme boredom, headaches, dizziness, nausea, mental stimulation, comas, or any other unpleasant symptoms caused by the reading of his posts. You come at your own peril. Leave now. Don't say you weren't warned. We mean it. Go now-
Okay, okay, that's enough. You're scaring away all the imaginary readers! And beside, my posts are harmless! They'd never do anything like tha-
Disclaimer: There may be complete lies in this blog.
Oh, be quiet!




Thank you. I would like to assure you, Imaginary Friends, that I will always try my hardest to be honest. Apart from that, I can't guarantee the quality of this blog. I'll tell you what- why don't you expect that everything I write will be the worst garbage you've ever had the misfortune to read. That way, you won't be disappointed. :)
Actually, I'm just writing this blog for myself. I've got so much nonsense to spout out, but no one who will put up with it, so this seems like a good idea. I don't seriously expect any real people to put up with me anywhere in the world, but that's okay. My Imaginary Friends all over the world will do nicely, as will this wall here. Hey, that's not a bad idea. Wait a minute...

[three hours pass]

Oh, are you still here? I've just come back from the most pleasant conversation with a wall. I discussed with it my theories on videogame design, my philosophies and my emotions. The wall has unfortunately broken down as a result, but I am feeling much better. I haven't had anyone listen to me so carefully in months! Such a shame it had to end so quickly.

Who am I, you ask? (Okay, so you didn't, but let's say you did.) My name is Mordechai, but you can call me Mory. I am an Orthodox Jew, but I go to a secular school despite the very large number of religious schools here in Israel. I am now in the 12th and final grade, but I haven't actually learned anything in the miserable decade I've spent trapped in the school system. As a matter of fact, I'm not making any effort right now, even though all my tests are coming up and I'm sure to fail them. Somehow, they don't seem important. And despite this feeling, I am at a very good school - the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance, where I study (or at least am supposed to be studying) not just all the mundane subjects which other schools teach but also mundane musical studies. This, despite my not being very interested in music. Oh, and I compose. I have also been playing the piano for years despite never putting any effort into it. I'm not a good pianist mind you, not even good enough to play my own pieces properly, but somehow it was good enough to get me into this school, which I accepted despite my lack of interest because they'd let me in.
My class is very interesting. It is effectively split into three groups. The members of each group are friends with other members of that group, but there's virtually no contact between separate groups, despite going to most of the same classes. It's not that they dislike the other groups, more a sort of lack of desire to realize that the other groups exist at all. First, there are the dancers, who seem to be interested only in the shallowest things. Second, the musicians, who don't seem to be interested in anything at all. The third group is me.







I like watching the dancers, and I like listening to music, but my love is for videogames, which I believe encompass the future of all of art-
Disclaimer: The writer of this blog will often enter mind-numbing passages and ramblings on the gloriousness of videogames. This is not enjoyable. Escape now, while you still can!!

So where was I? Oh, right, I was giving my boring autobiography, but I think that's pretty much it. If all the contradictions I've mentioned prevent you from getting a clear idea of who I am, I don't blame you. In every group I belong to, I'm apart from the crowd. So who am I, in a nutshell?
I am not.

Welcome to my blog. It may be incomprehensible, it may be meaningless, it may be a mess, it may be selfish, arrogant and self-degrading all at once, but- but....
You know what, let's just leave it at that. Welcome to my blog.

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