The Arid Desert of Web

The easiest way to explain the blog landscape is with a desert analogy.  Picture a desert — hot searing sun, dusty wind and shimmering heatwaves.  At the center of the desert is a mansion.  Rich green fields, marble statues and fountains.  And a dark iron gate, surrounding the property.  Throughout the day the mansion is a hive of activity; traders and visitors shuffling in and out, plopping coins into the fountains.

And every day the mansion offers tours to its guests.  In a caravan they ply their way to the little dark corners and caves of the desert to see odd things; slices of paradise in the barren desert.  They snake in and snake out.  As the caravans pass by peddlers, artists, salesmen and hucksters line their trail, making the occasional deal and receiving the odd handout; a coin tossed or even a long glance.  Most of the mansion’s guests avert their eyes and follow the caravan to the point of interest.

And this happens day in and day out.  The mansion gets greener and richer, attracting more visitors and traders.  The cracked desert does not change.  It gets what it can, and it’s a wonder the ground itself doesn’t fall and bend under the weight of the mansion that sits on it.

Why You *Maybe* Shouldn’t See Quantum of Solace

Why You Shouldn’t

#1:  It’s not a movie.  I mean, in the strictest sense it is a series of moving pictures, but it’s not structured like a traditional movie; it’s a short story put to film (more on this later).

#2:  There are so many ‘___ chases’ in this movie that a friend actually remarked “There has been a car chase and a boat chase, all this needs is a plane chase”, and then Daniel Craig was evading a jet in a cargo plane.  Half the movie is basically a bunch of chase scenes cut together all over Europe.

#3:  It has no ending.  Sure, there is a point where they kick you out of the theatre, but there is no ending.  There was a point in Lord of the Rings when they faded to black in order to trick you into thinking the movie had ended, but then it went on for another hour or so.  People got up to leave and were then surprised to see the movie continue.  I thought this was what had happened with Quantum, and sat dumbstruck in my seat as the credits began to roll.  It has a unique structure, but ends with a pretentious and tired metaphor — it’s hard to believe even when you see it.

#4:  It’s not a Bond Film.  It’s clear that Ian Fleming had nothing to do with it.  Ever since Casino Royale, Bond has transitioned from a comic book world into a Ludlum inspired hyper-reality.  This movie has no more to do with Bond than any Bourne movie.

Why You Should *Maybe*

#1:  It’s a short story put to film.  The usual movie plot is something closer to the format of a novel — it has a beginning a middle and an end and those pieces work together to form a story.  A short story usually starts in media res (in the middle of a scene), and is about a moment.  You can write a short story about someone walking across the street.  Quantum is a short story about Bond killing some people and being chased; it’s not a good short story, but the cinematography reflects the format, and it’s beautiful.  You don’t mind that the movie makes little sense because it’s shot like a picture book.

#2:  You don’t have to think about anything.  Really.  Just sit back and watch people die, fall, or explode.

#3:  When the next movie comes out you can watch them back to back, hopefully negating the fact that Quantum has no ending.

Aliens and Vikings? Where Do I Sign Up?

Gawker Media’s Sci-Fi blog, i09, has brought to my attention quite a gem.  A commenter outlines the movie well “So it’s The Thirteenth Warrior…from space?”  It’s also a ‘low budget’ film.  If this is what these folks can do with a low budget I can only imagine what they could do with some more cash in their pockets.  There’s a theatre near my apartment that usually plays obscure movies, (I went there to see that Ghengis Khan movie) so hopefully I’ll be able to catch it in its limited release — but I’m sure a movie about Vikings and aliens will be all over torrent sites in time.  Not that any of you would ever think to visit such a place.

Another Non-Gaming Blog (Written by a Gamer)

1UP’s Anthony Gallegos (Guy-eggos) has launched a decidedly non-gaming blog.  Like former 1UPer Shawn Elliot, Gallegos is full of crazy information; he also seems to fancy himself a poet.  So go check it out, y’hear?

World of Warcraft is Full of Cylons

I’ve been on a Battlestar binge lately, but the reference is perfect.  When a Cylon dies their conciousness is downloaded into a reproduction facility and transferred to a new body.  Essentially, there are no inexperienced Cylons.  Like videogame players they learn from death and adjust accordingly in their next life.

And now, as World of Warcraft reaches its peak playerbase, you can see the same thing.  That level 40 Hunter isn’t really a level 40 Hunter, he’s a level 70 Paladin, who is a level 70 Rogue on another server.  It’s hard to find someone that’s still on their first character, who hasn’t transferred their experience to another class.

For the Cylons that means they’re incredibly dangerous to their enemies, and the same thing applies to WoW players.  In fact, I would guess that a WoW player who has lead several different virtual lives with different characters has built up a wealth of experience within that game system that is unparalleled.  An FPS player might be an excellent shot with the MP-5, so it should go without saying that he’s a crack shot with a pistol — it’s not like other games don’t have this transfer of knowledge, but firing a virtual weapon at a target isn’t a skill that takes long to learn.  It may take a long time to master, yes, but WoW’s nine classes all play quite differently.  A player who used to be his enemy has a lot of valuable knowledge at hand.

But I wonder if this isn’t detimental to a virtual world.  At the outset of the experience I felt quite a bit of wonder and excitement as I explored the world with others.  But now we all know where everything is, and what everyone does, because we’ve been there before.

Data Compression And The Natural World

“Language is one of the best data-compression mechanisms we have. The information contained in literature, or even email, encodes our identity as human beings. The entire literary canon may be smaller than what comes out of particle accelerators or models of the human brain, but the meaning coded into words can’t be measured in bytes. It’s deeply compressed. Twelve words from Voltaire can hold a lifetime of experience.”

– Fernanda Viegas, IBM

Something I came across while reading Wired.  Viegas runs a site called Many Eyes that lets users upload data and observe how it maps into a data visualization of their choice.

What really intrigues me as an avid writer is the way she is talking about the way words compress data.  Often I wonder what exactly makes good writing.  Some factors I had looked at before were things like sentence structure, a developed personal style, vocabulary, and in most cases a high concept.  Those are all pretty hard things; hard as in they’re easy targets, hard data that we can look at in order to determine something.  You can usually apply those criteria to writing and gauge relatively how ‘developed’ it is.

But just like game mechanics, there is always core functionality.  Something that operates at a low level, and is harder to locate and describe, especially when trying to gauge quality.  Why are some games just fun, and why are some writers just eye opening.

Data compression is an excellent theory (would you call it a theory?  It seems to be proven) to apply to writing in order to locate and evaluate those soft targets.

So at its lowest level, what is data compression.  You’re taking a good deal of information and pushing it all together into something smaller — when we’re talking about words, smaller means we’re centralizing ‘things’.  One word can contain several meanings, because just like compressing digital data, you lose some quality.  The cost of compression is the loss of specificity.

This is fascinating because it implies that what a good writer is really doing is arranging pieces of compressed data in such a way that people can unravel, or decompress, that data in such a way that it is pleasing to the human brain.  I’m no scientist, but I believe that’s called triggering the ‘aha’ moment, wherein humans think they’re quite clever for figuring something out.  Most of the time it’s something they already knew, but just hadn’t had it told to them in such a way before — confirmation of a belief is a strong sensation.

Anyways, I’m wandering — I think this idea of data compression is more or less where the idea of subjectivity was born.  If words are our way of compressing things in the natural world, and by compressing them they become more vague, then that means people can interpret those vagaries for themselves.

The same thing goes for art, although I don’t believe I’m quite as qualified to speak about semiotics or visual art.  In order to create something usable and transferable, such as visuals like symbols or words in a language, it was necessary to simplify things.  This doesn’t mean they don’t contain complexity, it’s just not inherent, but rather implied.  A painting of a landscape can evoke different feelings and inspire different thoughts in different people because each person is deconstructing that simplification and creating their own complex model.

This personal revelation has led me to second guess my use of certain vocabulary — we can say that the more complex a word is the less it is compressing data; the more specific it is being.  For technical writing that’s great sometimes, but for most of the writing I do I’m trying to stir emotions.  If using more simple words means that data is being compressed more, and is therefore left open for more interpretation, then great.  Simple words are easier for people to learn, and therefore you have an increased *potential* reading audience.

For a long time I was under the impression that having a wide vocabulary meant learning and using lots of ‘big’, or complex, words.  But as I’m learning now, for most of my work, it really means finding the ‘right’ words, not necessarily the most complex.

A Game Design Site, With Nothing To Do With Videogames

No, this site is not about global warming.  It’s more or less a nonsense, catchy name that represents what this blog is for.  As a game designer, I do a lot of thinking about games.  The problem with that is that it can become too endemic.  I find I learn a lot about game design from subjects that don’t directly intersect with my profession.

So that’s what this site is for.  Musings about game design that have nothing to do with videogames.  Sometimes, it will have nothing to do with game design at all.  But whatever is posted here will always be interesting, even if it is as seemingly random as heatwaves and gamma rays.