Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world

19-JAN-2011 05:25
 
Had a dream about Carrie.  The most insidious thing about it was that it wasn't romantic at all; it was just her wondering what I was up to.  She was still engaged; my unconsciousness did not deny her that.

I'm torn between writing this and remembering it, or just letting it fade.  I will take the middle ground, and just leave only that vague description for my future self.

In the swirling, curling storm of desire
Unuttered words hold fast
With reptile tongue, the lightning lashes
Towers built to last
Darkness creeps in like a thief
And offers no relief
Why are you shaking like a leaf?
Come on; come talk to me
« Peter Gabriel, "Come Talk to Me" »

Shit, I just had to check what I last wrote about.  Two back-to-back entries about Carrie, separated by over two years.  I swear, it's not like I think about her daily; I'm just trying to get back into writing things.

Seems that she disappeared without a trace
Did she ever marry old what's-his-face?
I made a point to burn all of the photographs
She went away and took a different path
I remember the face, but I can't recall the name
Now I wonder how Whatsername has been
« Green Day, "Whatsername" »

It's actually the opposite with me.  I often remember names, but cannot for the life of me remember faces.  And you are...?  Oh, right, I met you at so-and-so's, when you were with $person.

I blame this dream on my Taiwanese coworkers' love of the beer.  I have not gotten nostalgically drunk in a while.  Though, I can recall getting maudlin on New Year's Eve: told Jon that while I kick myself for going to WPI, I'm glad I went to a school close enough to hang out with him often.

And now it's 0600.  Back to bed for a bit.

They say, in Heaven, love comes first.

29-JAN-2011 09:56
 
Today I woke up
More awake than I have felt in years
Not concerned with anything
No tears
I'm done with that shit
« Alkaline Trio, "This Is Getting Over You" »

Boardgaming last night ran late. It was 0600 before I was in bed and asleep.  And then I had a very good dream.  The details I remember, though they're inconsequential to this.

I've never been able to nap.  I go to sleep, I'm out for hours.  If I wake up or have to wake up earlier, I'm groggy and useless until the interest is paid.

What was strange today was that I woke up after this long dream, expecting to turn and see it was 1500 or later in the afternoon.  After all, I'd been awake for over twenty-four hours previous.

It was just after 0900.

In a bit, I will consult the googles regarding quality of dreams and well-rested-ness.  And no, I do not think I will be "binging" it.

"Why can't you be in a good mood? How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood and be in a good mood once in a while?"
"Gee, it's easy."
« Lloyd Dobler and Constance Dobler, Say Anything »

I still wouldn't say that, in the real world, I am happy.  I figure it's because, on some level, I didn't want to be.  I'd whine about it, sure.  A whole fucking lot, just going through this site.  I thought there was a certain nobility in unhappiness.  Damned Catholic upbringing.

Suffering doesn't automatically make you a hero.
« James Sterling, Leverage, "The Two-Horse Job" »

I got logged out from inactivity while submitting, and I'm constructing this from memory. This part here, lost quite a bit. I really don't remember where I went.

Suffice it to say, I have changed my mind.

Perhaps it was hanging out with kids half my age at the gaming store.  Or the old guys twice my age.  Or talking about humanism with someone whose day job is teaching history.  Or watching The Golden Compass for the umpteenth time because TNT wants to make the most of their investment.  Or being told by Lacy that I am no longer in my mid-20s; I am in my late-20s.

Fuck a Republic of Heaven. We know I'm far too selfish for that. No, instead, an Independent State of Heaven.  Eh, still somewhat grandiose.  A Backyard of Heaven.  And I will be its queen.

Er, king.  King.

You definitely are the source in this area, and we're going to shut you down for good.

15-FEB-2011 13:39
 
Jonathan Blow of Braid fame does an interview.  I got to it from Metafilter, via rewil.

Interesting, of course, read.  Social game designers are evil.  Social games aren't social.  Reads pretentious, sure.  Doesn't make it wrong.

On the Metafilter thread there's people debating whether it's truly evil to design such a game [and it seems, people interpreting Blow as saying it's evil to play such games].  I would agree that yes, those designers are evil.  On the scale of evil they're no, say—I'm trying not to think of Nazis, too cliché—um... Pol Pot?  Yeah, not as evil as Pol Pot.

It's okay to play social games to an extent.  Like it's probably okay to smoke cigarettes to an extent, but what these designers do—and this is why I always go to it from the design standpoint—they very deliberately design the game to not give the player everything that they want, to string the player along and to invade the player's free time away from the game.
« Jonathan Blow »

Mild evil.  Like a crack slinger.  A crack slinger with a pyramid scheme.

Now, I've never played Farmville or games of that kind, partly because it struck me as not very fun.  But also because most of what I know of it is the spam I get some friends trying to build something or collect something, and that's not the sort of thing I want to subject people I like to.  And as he says, that sort of thing isn't social in the connection with others sense; that's social as in building on preexisting social networks.  Like social network cancer.

So, yeah.  Fuck social games and the cancer merchants who make them.  Cancer merchants.

the only good thing about EGo is he's gotta be pissing off rewil.
« JrzyTmata »

Reading about the experience of playing a social game reminds me of what I guess is the closest I came, and actually something Lacy reminded me of out of the blue recently: Ringorang.

Ringorang was this weekly work-week-long trivia game.  Started sometime Monday morning and ended Friday night.  And rewil and I rocked that shit through sheer dedication.  There were some amusing/infuriating theories about us.  I'd take Augur [that's my laptop] with me everywhere.  I slept lightly, and would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of an incoming question.  I'd roll over, slap Augur awake, answer, and go back to sleep.

I suppose it was different than these Facebook games.  For one, the reward was actual money.  That certainly added to the initial enjoyment.  Eventually, it did make it feel like work.  In the end I was playing for the prize and for the satisfaction of crushing the people who'd accused me of cheating.  Then the money was gone, and the crushing wasn't enough.

So, I guess I'm safe from this "social" game addiction.  I'd need something more than points to keep me going.  Then again, I pay Microsoft a not-insignificant amount for those sweet, sweet achievement points.  Best to just keep away from the social games.

Continuing through the Metafilter thread, I see people using adventure games and IF interchangeably.  Is that right?  When I think of IF—and as far as I can tell it's not defined there any differently—it's interactive fiction.  Adventure games are something else.  Interactive fiction is something like Fahrenheit/Indigo Prophecy.  Essentially, a movie where you can push buttons here and there.  An adventure game would be like Myst or Zork.  When did they become the same thing?

Enough of this wankery.  Aside from validating my view on social games, the interview had news relevant to my interests: that Blow is working on a new game called The Witness.  I do look forward to that.

I swear I'll do things different but can't promise to be strong.

21-FEB-2011 15:25
 
I am giving up the haiku thing.  By that, I mean that I post to Twitter [and, consequently, Facebook] only in haiku.  I'm not doing that anymore.  I guess Chuck Wendig's responsible for this camel's back.

I'm not saying that I will never do it again; it's just that I will no longer force myself to.  I went back through some of my old tweets and tried to decipher what I meant.  In some cases, I couldn't, as I'd mangled my thoughts to fit the structure.

On rare occasions I want to reply to people [there exists a rarer subset of these where I feel I have something substantial to say] I wring my hands trying to come up with an abridged [or artificially lengthened] form.  Typically I just junk my response and let it slide by.  I'd rather not keep doing that, as there are some people with whom this is the only line of communication I have.

The reason I started doing it in the first place was twofold.  One, I wanted to limit my posting to things more meaningful than, say, the current state of my bowelsThis clearly did not work.  [If you clicked on that and were disappointed that it was not, in fact, about going to the bathroom, there's something wrong with you.  But here you go.]  Two, I wanted to be a beautiful and unique snowflake.  Also a failure.

Can't say that all my tweets/statuses from now on will be deep or meaningful.  Can't even say I'll be trying to make them thus.  But they should be more frequent, and unconstrained by syllable count.