Gaming Reverie

In my last post, I wrote about taking risks for the education you need. Then, when I started thinking about my relationship with video games, and their potential educational merit, one thing was clear: rarely does one take risks for the sake of video game “education.” » Read the rest of this entry «

Um, hi.

Has anyone seen the film An Education? You should. It’s amazing. It also made me cry a little, think deeply about my relationships, and the way I live my life.

In other words, I have some thoughts that come straight from the cockles. So read more, friends. Read more.  (And bring wine.)

» Read the rest of this entry «

Not to sound full of Myself, My Art, or My Work,

but I am a God in my field.

What do I do? I observe things with calm fascination. I am a Critic, yes, but… I am also a Child. “How do you do it?” you patiently ask. I don’t even know. It’s like air. It just exists. The wonder of My fascinating critique just exists.

I’d like to explain some beauty to you, and then I’d like you to listen to that voice in your loins, stop being a coward, and pull forth (via vigorous clicking) the most articulate, true, and erotic Art on the internet.

First.

I am going to present to you the best song in existence. Pretentious right? Har har… NO! It is not, you philistine. It is but true. The best song in the world is “Always” by the brilliant, brilliant band Erasure. Familiar with them? No? Well, think Proust. Think Einstein. A song is as divine as God’s nectar. Where other music strikes nerves, Erasure is here to massage them. And to think — oh! — to think that this song has inspired and graced us with two succulent, golden gifts.

Click well, children:

The Best Music Video of All Time

“Always” by Erasure

A beautiful man. A Goddess. Rapture ensues. Can love bloom in the snow?

The Best Video Game of All Time

Robot Unicorn Attack

A Delightful yet powerful unicorn. Redefining reality, subverting evil.

Hi, I’m back, hi.

Notice the patterns in my blogging as of late? Much like a dysfunctional music box, I wind up my writing enthusiasm with enthusiastic blogs — promising something good in the near future — but they’re more false starts that peter out than anything rhythmic or cohesive. And then… months pass by… and, yeah. It’s bad. I know.

This is because my writing is a little broken. But hey, it’s ok. It’s not that I’m no longer passionate about games — I am. I’m just in a very weird in-between state. I think about writing every day. Occasionally I’ll try and get freelancing work. Sporadically, I’ll work on a short story. Bimonthly, I’ll toy with writing a novel. Or glance at one of the pages. But that’s it.

So for now please think of my writing as something worthwhile that simply needs elbow-grease and maybe a good smack to get started again.

Hi! It’s me. I used to blog to you.

If you have been checking this empty, wordless site

in the past few weeks with nothing to read,

then thank you, thank you for your patience.

I now give you: actual blogs.

It’s a gamer’s dream. It’s a lover’s dream.

I wake up with my lovely wife on our day off.

Tea is poured, breakfast is enjoyed. Our hearts are warm and soft.

The day is cold and wet outside; we find solace in our warm, cozy living room. My wife slyly opens our game-drawer in the coffee table, pulling out a Wiimote and Nunchuck.

And then… this:

I’ve received an ungodly deluge of spam the last few months. It pains me, all this excitement for could’ve-been comments snatched away.

Oddly, I only have been deleting spam on one of my posts — Pure T & A. Yeah, be careful with those cheap puns in your blog post title. It ain’t worth the wit.

And yes, I realize that I’m attracting a cavalcade of hideous spam-bots by mentioning the title again, but I don’t care, I’m ready. I’ve been fighting robots conceptually for years.

Bring it on.

After a long, nice-but-depressing talk with a good friend today about being a writer, I received a rejection email for a short story I had written.

It felt terrific.

The first mistake.

I opened a beer, started a game of Burnout: Paradise, my mind blazing cheerfully faster than the game’s legendary speed…

gaining steadfast momentum…

… a never-failing smile on my face.

I’m stuck, for now, with some sort of flu. It’s two-pronged and hideous. It sucks. First, there is the physical variety, as in, I can barely leave my bed. It came out of nowhere too. One night it just hit me: it hurt too badly to swallow, and I seemed to produce something like two gallons of phlegm. This is a problem.

Next. There’s this mental sickness, too (isn’t there always?), as I’m feeling that I’ve neglected too many precious friendships in the past. Sure, it made sense to let certain friendships deteriorate at the time. I usually had other things going, as well as one or two key, crucial friends that I had to put much effort into to keep afloat. But of course, years later, bedridden old me is experiencing old friends popping up. Sometimes as mere mental detritus, other times in an intense dream that permeates my thoughts throughout the day.

Poor me, right? I mean, really, we all experience this. Some of our friends may be literally dead, others have moved away and married, never to be seen again, and still others are just hard to get a hold of. So it’s not like we can do too much about these friendships in the present, aside from wax nostalgic and… and… wait!

There is a solution (for me, at least). You see, In my weak state I managed to pick up my DS and check out, finally, the Etrian Odyssey series. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s quite a niche RPG for the hardcore only — a dungeon crawler of sorts with minimal saves allowed and a game design for the masochistic.

It’s not bad, if you’re into that sort of thing. But what appeals to me about the game is its bizarre faceless, blank feeling. Its cardboard story, its laconic characters. Usually I’m story-hungry when it comes to RPGs, but the gameplay in Etrian Odyssey seems to suffice, and besides, I can make up my own story:

I’ve christened my guild “Dead-Up” — a name for a merry band of travelers that were once my friends. Of course, with the word ‘dead’ being in there, it could sound very zombie-like, very negative. But to me, “Dead-up” sounds a lot more like “1up”, or even “cheer-up!” A happy revival of now-dead friendships that could only appear in the imagination.

Sound depressing? It is. But keep reading — it’s an interesting experiment. Now, I’ve named all the group members appropriately, as well. In example: an old friend of mine was very soothing, very healing to the soul. Inevitably, she became a healer in the Dead-Up guild, staying in the back lines and taking care of the rest of us when appropriate. Another friend, a charming musician, ended up in the troubadour job class. By playing songs for the group, he helped everyone move more quickly, and with more strength.

Now, the big question: is this healthy? I’m not so sure, but if anything it’s a little less teary-eyed, and more cheerfully distracting than looking at old, weatherworn photos.