I Am Not...

A blog for Mory's life to be filtered and controlled through.

My name is Mordechai Ariel Buckman. I'm a twenty-something male Asperger person (affinity:music) living in my parents' house in Israel. I make computer games. Hello.

Here's the story so far. I started this blog just because I was bored and lonely, but it's been steadily gaining power over my life ever since. More and more I found myself doing things I wouldn't normally do, just because it would make for a better blog. I'm still in early stages of that journey, but it's taken me years to get as far as I have. In the first section of the blog I laid out my life and my ideals, and as I brought Part 1 to a close I found that the two did not fit together. Nineteen months later I began Part II, in which I deliberately pitted my life and my ideals against each other. It was a noble effort, which yielded two games (Smilie and The Perfect Color), but in the tension between the two sides of myself my sanity (such as it was) spun a bit out of control.

Which leads us to Part 3, the present section of this blog. Day by day I compare the person I am to the person I ought to be, a person for whom everyday pleasures and lofty ambitions are not in conflict. My hope is that at the end of this daily confusion I will find coherence, and that in this throwback to "Web 1.0" I will find a progressive approach to blogging. I may lose this game, but I am not going to play it by other people's rules.

Your browser seems to not support Javascript.
This is a problem, because I use Javascript a lot.
I use it for basic parts of the interface, and I use it for keeping parts of posts hidden until you click on things, and in general it's just an essential part of this blog.
Now, if you don't want to enable Javascript you can still carry on, but you probably shouldn't.
Why bother coming to my blog if you're going to ignore the way it's supposed to work?

one comment from Kyler
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.

Post a Comment




2010, September 2nd, 2:19 and 9 seconds

Performance reviews for September 2010


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


three 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.

Post a Comment




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, 2:21 and 16 seconds

A Post Which May Not Be Posted

I've written what I consider to be a very good post. It's an interactive dialogue, which is something I haven't done since I vs. I. And it's using a new dialogue system which I'm planning on using more in the future, so in that sense it's an important post for the blog structurally. Also, thematically it sets up a lot of where I'm planning to go with the blog in the future, so it's important on that front too. It deals with certain emotional truths about myself which I think are interesting enough to deserve this format, and I think I've done a darn good job pulling it off. It's taken me two and a half weeks to finish it. And now it's done. And I can't put it on this page.

The trouble is that the content of the post is, shall we say, sensitive. It didn't occur to me as I started writing it, because it was just an interactive depiction of something that's been running through my head a lot lately, and things that have been running through my head a lot are things that deserve to be on the blog. And make no mistake, I do think it belongs on this page. I would very much like to be able to reference it in later posts, and since I think it's a decent piece of gamistic craftsmanship I would very much like for anyone who comes to the page to be able to play through it. I don't, as a rule, consider privacy a positive value.

But at some point during the writing process, I realized that this post would greatly disturb my mother. I'm not going to get into any specifics as to why for the same reason that I'm not showing the post, but I don't want her to know that this post exists. And normally, that's no problem- she's never read my blog, and she's unlikely to ever start. But with this particular post, on this particular subject, I'm afraid that if someone who talks to her a lot saw it and told her about it, she might check. And while the vast majority of readers I have no problem with showing this post to, my mother is a different story. And don't jump to any conclusions about my mother; this post is a strange case.

So here's what I'm going to do. If you're at all interested to see (and play) this post, send me an e-mail at Mory@TheBuckmans.com asking for the link. It's got its own separate page which is not linked to from this one, and I'll send out links to that page at my discretion. I know it's... unconventional to do something like this, but like I said: sensitive content. Thanks for your understanding. And don't be afraid to write, even if I don't know you. I like this post -I want it to be read.


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

Oh right, the rest of the post. Yeah. Um. I don't... exactly... have it. Wow that's a lot of blank space. Tell you what, I'll add the continuation of the story soon. As soon as there is a continuation to the story.

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 time 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.


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.


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.

Post a Comment




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 range 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 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 a 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 a lot more important, and it's going to be a lot 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.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

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.

Post a Comment

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 ever 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 ever 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