I came in to take down the Schwag sidebar slideshow in support of Swamp Thing, and um...well, the entire command console is compromised. Looks like Barney disconnected Vampyric Horse from the mainframe and high-tailed it outta here.
Without Roberts on hand, I can't say I'm the equal of patching it up. I tried rebooting, but with Trap-Jaw and Swamp Thing off their guard positions, the template structure is collapsing. Looks like only Gorth is holding up the F.O.R.G.E. randomizer.
Other thing is, the main viewer is all wonky. We're picking up signals from elsewhere in the desert, rogue transmissions. I'm concerned we'll lose the Sandbowl securecam next.
If you don't visit my other sites, you may not understand why I'm nearly finished the process of abandoning this blog. It was always planned as a three-year project - and I do have an appropriate finale lined up - but most of the action has been over at Inlanders (a place where you can read about my novel) and Nurse & Patient (a place where you can listen to my band's rough demos). When Mini Nerd goes the way of the dino, that's where you'll find me. stephenreese.com will remain the portal to anything I'm doing on the interwebs, and of course you can look me up on Facebook.
The book and the band are occupying most of my free time, with exciting results. Nurse & Patient is a four-piece at this point; we're starting to sound pretty decent at rehearsal. Query letters for Inlanders are out; I'm in the midst of intense rewrites, illustrations (by lovely Lynnie), and one or two manuscript requests.
For that reason, I'm handing off the reins to my trustworthy support crew. They've valiantly protected the Sandbowl (and this blog) from Tube invasion for well over a year now. But I think a few might exchange guard duty for posting privilege - and posterity. I leave the control console in their able hands (claws, tentacles).
Before I go, here's a video I particularly enjoyed seeing this morning because there's a poem in my book that can be read backwards and forwards, too.
I'm not sure I can think of any post more appropriate for Mini Nerd than this one; we truly are in the final stretch of what this blog could ever hope to accomplish.
Once you've reached apotheosis, where else is there to go, really?
All I ever really needed to know I learned from FRANTIC FREDDIE: go for the gold; avoid the baddies; if a bonus turns up along the way, seize it. Think fast; move faster; trust your instincts; learn from your mistakes. Perseverance wins.
Frantic Freddie is my favorite videogame of all time. It's a puzzle on speed, thumb-candy for thinkers. I hated it at first look. It frustrated me no end, even after I got the hang of its gameplay. And though I've managed (on occasion) to best all sixteen levels (twice without losing a life), it still challenges me today.
Released in 1983 by CDS Software for the Commodore 64, Frantic Freddie falls into the 'platformer' game genre, though I prefer to call it a 'grab n' run'. I use that term to refer to a game where you, the player, navigate a maze or grid of some sort, collecting treasure (the grabbing). The running is necessary because you must also avoid badguys whose sole purpose in life is to end your treasure-collecting. To sum up, you have only two tasks in a grab n' run: nab treasure, flee baddies.
Arguably, the first grab n' run was Pac-Man, wherein Mr Pac maneuvers around a maze-grid eating power pellets and avoiding four ghosts. If a ghost so much as touches Pac-Man, his pellet-eating is brought to an end and he loses a life. But he does have recourse against his enemies. Eating a special jumbo power pellet, he becomes invulnerable and can chow down on the ghosts for a short time, removing them from the grid until they're able to regenerate and oppose him again.
This simple game mechanic splintered into different permutations over the years, first in the arcade, then the home computer. One sub-genre is the 'climbing' game - essentially a grab n' run with ladders. The maze-grid is still present, but it's turned on end so the player looks in from the side rather than a bird's eye POV.
In Pac-Man, the grid is one long twisting corridor viewed from above. In a climbing game, the grid is a series of stacked tiers, or platforms, joined by ladders. Originally, a player only ran to reach treasure. Now, they must also climb, moving from tier to tier. Of course, the baddies can climb too, which results in a lot of diquing and dodging and changing between platforms.
Hence, the 'platform' game.
Following are some classic platformers. Each provides the player with some form of defense or recourse against the enemy.
In Donkey Kong, Mario can leap over barrels Kong rolls at him, and occasionally smash the obstacles with a mallet.
In Miner 2049er, Bounty Bob can activate a 'safe-mode' by grabbing certain objects; this renders the baddies temporarily non-lethal so he can pass through and disable them.
In Mario Bros., Mario and Luigi take out baddies by pounding the underside of a tier they traverse.
And in Lode Runner, Jack puts baddies out of commission by digging self-filling holes they fall into. After the ground swallows them up, they regenerate and give chase anew.
Grab n' run platform games tend to move at very high speeds and the player is constantly shifting between two modes of play: the offensive (that is, the collection of treasure) and the defensive (the avoidance or neutralization of baddies). Watching someone play a grab n' run reminds of the proverbial chicken with its head cut off, madly dashing around, making abrupt changes in direction, never standing still.
Little wonder PANIC CITY was so named. This game, written in 1982 or thereabouts for the Commodore VIC-20 (the first Commodore home computer), was a classic grab n' run in the platform style. The player is a 'space janitor' who removes radioactive ore (the treasure) from a space station (the grid) before hostile mutations (the baddies) can kill him. As its addition to the grab n' run model, Panic City incorporates a timer into the gameplay: the player must remove all the ore from the station before it explodes. And, in a bold move, it also subtracts a core element from the original model: the player has no recourse against his enemies. No invulnerability power pellets. No digging tools. No jumping.
Let me stress this properly. At no point in Panic City can the player come into contact with the baddies without losing a life. Nor can a player disable the baddies in any way. Here, defensive play is not simply avoiding baddies until you can temporarily neutralize them. Here you must avoid any encounter whatsoever. That demands a different style of gameplay. You anticipate - look ahead and think ahead - to circumvent possible disaster. Standing still is not a good idea. Wasting time even less so. You gotta move - your fingers, your eyes and your brain. The action is non-stop, adrenaline-charged. Frantic.
So.
It's Grade 10 summer break in 1983 and the two authors of Panic City, Kris Hatlelid and Gregor Larson, are hanging out in Regina, Saskatchewan, having formed their own game company, Fantasy Universal (FUN for short). In two months, they write a new iteration of Panic City for the Commodore 64 (the next Commodore home computer) and end up creating the game that has stolen more happy hours of my life than any other computer diversion ever conceived. They license it to CDS Software, who put it in stores, who sell copies to resourceful pirates, who crack the game and make illegal copies for everyday C64 enthusiasts, who eventually, through luck, fate, destiny...get a copy to me.
I load it up, take a shot at the first level, and fail within seconds. In my C64 gamelist catalogue, I make an entry: "Frantic Freddie -- stupid game". I put the disk away.
25 years later I am writing this disturbingly genuine love letter.
In Frantic Freddie, there are two goals:
1) Move around the grid to collect the pots of gold and whatever bonuses turn up (four per level).
2) Avoid the baddies.
Only those two.
There is also one deviation from the original grab n' run model:
To use a ladder in the grid between platforms, Freddie must be facing the rungs he intends to use. Meaning, if he is approaching a ladder from the top right and wants to go down the left side of the ladder, he must go past the first set of rungs on the right, turn around and face the opposite direction, then go down the left set of rungs - as demonstrated below.
In other words, the ladders are double-sided. Freddie cannot get on a ladder and choose which side he's going to get off; he must mount the ladder from the same side where he intends to dismount.
That's it. Only one deviation from the original model.
Nonetheless, these three game mechanics make for a lot of work, if, like me, you wanna win. Enough work that most casual gamers did as I did in 1984: started up Freddie, became frustrated within seconds, and ditched.
But there are those among us who became dedicated students of the Fred. Longtime enthusiasts of that unique and character-building ladder deviation. Fanatics? Yes. And dare I say it...experts. We are few and far between. Spread so thin across the globe that for one to come upon another would surely be viewed as an accident (Google-assisted or no) so designed as to argue for divine providence. Last night, it happened to me. And now it forces me to reevaluate everything I've ever held sacred.
You see, I've never witnessed anyone play Frantic Freddie as well as I do. I've never been exposed to a talent that can power past all 16 levels (especially the damnably fast and furious Final Four) while losing only one or two Freds along the way. That kind of zen joystickism...that so-far-advanced level of deep personal development...you just don't expect to find match for it in your lifetime - because you know how much it takes - the hours, the years, the tears, the blowups and apologies, the resentments, recriminations and remonstrations, the so-sore thumbs and ever-paralyzed fingers - to reach enlightenment and transcendence.
I KNOW how much it takes.
And now I know I'm not alone.
HE exists.
Continents and oceans separate us, but we breathe the same sky, wake under the same sun, walk the same Earth.
I thought I had found my soulmate. I was sure my life partner was finally in my life. But now...I must reconsider. Now...everything is different.
Must I truly question my longest-cherished assumptions, my most life-affirming decisions...even my sexual orientation?
Yes. The answer can only be Yes. Because I cannot deny the proof, now laid bare before my astonished eyes:
I tagged myself with this lil' diversion while reading Bill and co. over at the Film Freak Central blog. The idea is to list 26 of your favorite movies with one (and only one) movie to represent each letter of the alphabet.
Certain of these were really tough (I seem to like a lotta movies that start with the letters A, D, R and S). Others were nearly impossible (movies starting with Q, U, X and Y haven't been particularly memorable entertainments in my life).
Anyhoo, here's what I decided on (inclined this time toward stuff I'd choose to watch again in the present, where every day I'm a little less interested in surrendering additional hours to a screen; some of my favorites I've seen enough times by now, but a few seem perennial):
Aviator, The Blade Runner Christmas Story, A Dead Calm Ed Wood Flirting With Disaster Groundhog Day Hairspray (original) Ice Storm, The Jude Kill Bill, Volume 1 Leaving Las Vegas Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World Night of the Living Dead (1968) Outlaw Josey Wales, The Passion Fish Quick and the Dead, The Ravenous Se7en Tale of Two Sisters, A Uncle Buck Vanishing, The (Spoorloos) Waking The Dead X-Men 3 (I like when Wolvie can't get close to Jean) You've Got Mail (I like when Tom can't get close to Meg) Zodiac
Some might say I had an unfortunate experience with internet dating. So I wouldn't necessarily recommend anyone sign up for, say, Lavalife (though some close friends met their wives and husbands there), or Plenty of Fish (ditto), and especially not Love Is Sexy (which I believe features bogus photos of non-existent members, all exceptionally good-looking and unable to reply to your solicitations unless copywriters happen to be working the day you initiate a virtual courtship - which is ironic for me, because one day not so long ago I was supposed to interview for a job there [the real reason I signed up to check it out - no, really!]; if you sign up as well, and do decide to leave, be prepared to spend months trying to convince their 'tech support' to remove you from all 1,200 mailing lists you've already been subscribed to).
Ahem.
I don't think I've ever sounded this bitchy on Mini Nerd before.
And make no mistake, this blog is no place for venting.
Here at Mini Nerd we like to entertain.
So do the folks at Mingle2, a "100% free online dating website run by a couple of guys from San Francisco", who create amusing content to promote their service. I'm not posting to suggest you sign up, mind. I want to show you the funny stuff.
There's lots more of this goofery available through the aforementioned link, all of it perpetrated by the talented Matthew Inman. I don't know the guy, but I like his sense of humor. And who knows? Maybe you'll find someone worthy of matrimony at his dating site. In the meantime, there are chuckles to be had.
Oh, and if I were to recommend an internet-assisted method for meeting the right person, as I did for my friend Sami this week, it would be this one: Meetup.com
So thanks to Mike for getting me started there, And thanks to Dan for the Matthew Inman link, And thanks to Guy for what may turn out to be the most rewarding hike of my life.
(I jumped the gun on Post #200. It's actually this one. But there really are only 32 left.)
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WHAT IS YOUR NAME? Stephen 4 LETTER WORD: said BOY NAME: Sebastian GIRL NAME: Sandy OCCUPATION: sailor A COLOUR: semi-opaque SOMETHING YOU WEAR: sash BEVERAGE: sangria FOOD: spaghetti SOMETHING FOUND IN A BATHROOM: sink PLACE: st petersburg REASON FOR BEING LATE: sleep SOMETHING YOU SHOUT: suffering succotash!
Reg'lar readers of Mini Nerd (and friends of the particular nerd who writes this here site) will likely share the sense of humor leveraged by supreme math geek Randall Munroe at xkcd above. In fact, I often thought of my fellow dorks while reading Randall's sweet, brainy strips. So much so, I have some dedications!
This one's for Dave:
Here's something for Lisa and Teresa:
Doogie'll appreciate this:
For Clem and Lisa:
For Neil and Jenn:
For Santino:
For the Absent Canadian (Mike):
For Sandy:
And for Douglas, who sent me the link that started this day of laughing and clicking:
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Fellow Canuck geek Eric Poulton laid down some righteous pixel masterpiecery that to me represents the philosophy of Mini Nerd in its near-entirety. Without further ado, here's "Underneath It All":
He also regularly loiters around ConceptArt.org (where the above piece was a contest entry), as do I - except Eric can draw like an angel and I just scroll and drool.
filth tube filthy tube tube filth angry video game player nerd.com nerdy wears yellow hat plays keyboard steve helms magic chicka the horse dion phaneuf's favorite food dion phaneuf's brothers and sisters if you dig this then you dub this cause im all about the nerd fights let's work it to the bone lyrics plain mini jaw claw agnes cactus mega nega if (e.row.rowtype == listitemtype.item | e.row.rowtype ==listitemtype.alternatingitem) ambo 1000 years and 1 day lyrics carolyn reese red tube
In the case of this last one, it's so well-done I'm convinced lo-fi special effects can be just as impressive (maybe moreso) than expensive CGI. Using computers to visualize the fantastic has become so commonplace that the effect is cheapened - it's now somehow too easy to achieve suspension of disbelief.
When you see creators using alternate, more imaginative means, the "wow" factor does an about-face and your awe reflects back on the ingenuity of the creator moreso than the verisimilitude of the creation. Who said fantasy had to be so real anyway?
That's what imaginations are for.
I'm all for this new "sweding" movement demonstrating that exorbitant effects budgets do not entertainment make.
Sometimes the spirit of giddy make-believe is all you need.
filth tube carolyn reese tube agnes cactus mega nega what part of the cattle did reeses the candy come from i'll always remember woah oh 4 teething brood toy monkey chime inside reese t shirts making things from tuck tape good grief miss agnes www.mini gams lovelorn nerd come on lets work lets work it to the done that the way the beat garbage shear strength
2007 is done now, and the long night is turning into day again for a spell. I was happy to achieve my goals for the year, even if a few came in past deadline. One such was a move back closer to where I was born, for purposes of helping birth new things, meeting recently-birthed things, and birthing one of my own (on paper, not in flesh). That latter is just about outta me now and into the harsh light of day, so it was time to shift the cycle from nocturnal back to diurnal and depart the lonely home/womb office (so essential to grinding out the novel) for one where a flux of people move all around me every day.
Last but not least (to the tune of 22 kilometers not least) was the half-marathon, which I've run three times now - not to my satisfaction, but run nonetheless. It took a year of training to get to that point in the first place, of course, and it'll take a year more, I'm guessing, to get the finish time I'm looking for. That's why, when I woke up this morning to the following animated .gif on Etherbrian's blog, I was tickled beyond 8-bit pink. It's a friendly reminder that it takes time to turn the wheel.
But if you keep moving, things do change.
To every season, then. Through every season.
P.S. Brian accomplished a goal of his own this month, too - breaking into the ranks of printed Threadless T-shirt artists. I've been a fan of Brian's for over ten years and was happy to pick up a design of his through Zazzle shortly ago. Now I'm even more thrilled to be one of the first to shell out for his Interloper From Beyond The Heavens on starburst orange. Join me!
Enough. Blorthos venture far, leave mostly female cousin stay, protect Sandbowl from Tube invade. And why? No reason good. Sandbowl empty, blog owner Reese gone. Not update for century, feel. Why guard empty bowl? What protect? Nothing! All yes.
Blog owner Reese only work long story, much bad, join interworld social clan, waste hundred month stupid romance reason. No blog make, no comment come. Lord Blooddyke not even interest overthrow. Truth tellings, Blorthos think rejoin Blood Cavern, no more good guy.
But not. Conscience attack. And again.
And...win, enough time pass. No go back from good guy place.
Now Blorthos arrive, save interworld. Blog continue. Blorthos say, curse Reese. Forget. Never return? Good okay.
You know that feeling you get when you read a book, see a movie, hear a song...and you think, wow, this [insert] was made for me? It just fires on all cylinders for the particular molecular makeup that is your curse/blessing in this given world?
Well, I haven't felt it for a while. I'm afeared that's a result of getting older, "growing up", being just a smidgen less receptive to experiencing a work of art for the first time without the "maturity"-imposed matrices for parsing who "made" it (where they come from, what their circumstances were, their limitations, personal hangups, financial situation, patrons real or imagined, etc.) that tend to hang around once you realize it's merely (wo)men who create things less than the universe entire, however direct and uncluttered their connection to the divine may chance to be.
The closest I've come to that kind of relationship with art in, geez, I dunno..."a long time", or something, was tonight. And it wasn't a book, a movie or a song.
It was a videogame.
Thing's called Samorost, and I'm gonna go against my nature here by resisting the urge to look up all the details on who exactly was involved with getting it out there, in the hopes of improving my chances at preserving mystery (and gratitude) for the fruit of their efforts. I know the folks responsible are European, at least. They like imagining things, and they have a kind sense of humor, and they understand game design better than most, and they were likely stoners at one point or another.
Their creation is a dead-simple, point-and-click online game (one part Flash, another part still-frame beauty) where you explore a whimsical alien environment, observe what's happening, and solve cute little puzzles that help you access the next area(s) - in these cases (there are two installments: a trippy original outing that might be especially resonant with the aid of a psychedelic substance of your choice, and a more literal but nonetheless more thematically compact sequel) to improve your chances of saving your odd little homeworld or, even better, your dog.
I have my reservations, of course. There're some puzzles played less intuitive for me, but that likely says more about this overly-critical bundle of molecules than the design itself. And I had to realign my mind to take on the role of a theoretically omniscient God-entity who can modify elements of the gamespace arguably not accessible by my goofy little avatar (whom I came to care about, I'll point out - possibly the highest accolade anyone could afford a videogame, after all). I'm accustomed to playing *as* the character in the space. Here, you're more an audience, but you can facilitate the story (and story there is, I'll be damned, in the most minute dances of cause and effect between various creatures and their respective environments; you'll need to affect both to succeed in your quest). If you can let go an insistence on naysaying logistics and "realism", you'll see playing Samorost is not unlike interacting with a dream.
I'm not sure I have any greater praise for art.
I appreciate dreams, see.
So do check it out, if you're game for this kinda game, and for those of you with children, I urge you play it together. It's appropriate for all ages, indeed, and somehow I know I might certainly have tapped older wells of ingenuity in solving the bugger, had I been just a few decades closer to when I entered this life. More neighbor to when the world was a startlingly open, curious and wondrous place...with nothing but possibility to suggest its edges.
I also dare you not to pay the beyond-reasonable price of around eight bucks to enjoy the third piece of the puzzle, once you've navigated the FREE Samorost 1 and the portion of numero two that's open to everyone. There wasn't really a choice, for me.
Bless these folks. It's a charming diversion.
And thanks to the internet, for another anagram post title. ;)
And kudos to Amo, who posted this game to CM two years ago! (I didn't play it then, but I'm inclined to guess, as always, the timing is better now than I might think.)
I don't have a lot of patience for guitars, usually because their players aren't doing much interesting with them. That's my bias and I'm sticking to it.
This fella, though, is an exception to the rule. And the music? Just gorgeous. A nice way to start the morning during this emotional June, our hinge of the year.
Thanks to Dave for the link! And Mike and Doug will probably love this, so I'm tagging those jerks too.
Look: one intention of the Bible, if I have it right, is to evolve a peaceful, pious, selfless and self-sacrificing civilization of Meek folk to inherit the Earth.
That said, the ratio of ass-kicking to cheek-turning in the Good Book is rather high.
The irreverent folks at Adult Swim recognize this truth, and now blare it from on high. I give you their blasphemous creation, and simultaneously ask forgiveness:
My only complaint so far: you don't get to beat the crap outta Judas. Maybe he's a secret character to be unlocked at a later stage. And I'm already hoping for sequels where you get to clobber important figures from other faiths!
Go in peace, geek brethren. (And apologies to any of my Christian friends who may find this offensive. I'm actually really curious to see what Gordon thinks...)
I've been all gaga and frothing at the mouth about Facebook for the last couple weeks, madly telling everyone it's the best implementation of the internet yet.
Site's been quiet, but the weekend was anything but.
Mini Nerd co-founder and Chief Technology Officer David Roberts was here visiting from Ontari-ario. We managed to cram in a business meeting and two family visits between excessive geeking-out, watching lots of Deadwood, cheering obnoxiously for the Leafs AND the Flames, playing multiple chess games (all of which I lost), reuniting with old friends on Facebook, checking in on Dave's wife (and the upcoming spawn in her belly that was responsible for Dave's quick visit here and now before it's born and prevents our hanging out for 20 years), plus the conspicuous consumption of fine scotch, beer and wine. I also drug Dave around Cowtown on foot while grabbing groceries, seeing the doctor, applying for a passport, and getting my rear bike wheel switched from Tacx-compatibility to road-readiness (of course, it's winter here again and snow now drapes the streets afresh).
Last but most notably, Dave (never a cook in the past) taught me his wife's pad thai recipe (which was delicious), got my wireless internet working (FINALLY), and helped me celebrate the first birthday of Mini Nerd (30 March, dontcha know). We've revamped the site's look for spring and introduced two new functionalities: a slideshow of Mini Nerdchandise available at Cafe Press (find it at the bottom of the sidebar), and the Monstermasher (up top).
The latter is a realization of randomized exquisite corpses for Mini Nerd readers courtesy of a classic illustration toy dear to dork chilluns of the 80s (including myself): the Mighty Men and Monster Maker. I bought a scanner specifically for the purpose of getting the wicked interchangeable art plates from the Maker into digital format for the Masher. Then Dave laid down some sweet code to build Vampire Ape Mad Scientist Superhero Mummies for us all.
Awwwwwwww jazzy.
Please enjoy the fruits of our labor, and if you're able, help support Mini Nerd in its second year online by picking up a Blorthos Cap, a Vampyric Horse Saddlebag, or a Mini Thong. We've also got t-shirts, bumper stickers, buttons, mugs and steins aplenty!
Here are photos from what was a great (if short) visit with my lifelong friend. I thank his wife, nascent kid, and cats for letting me borrow him a few days. Let's make it an annual tradition!
So please meet my former colleague Rich Wilkins, one of the most kind and caring folks I've encountered. Rich and I never got close, but given more time working on the same projects, or hanging out in the same peer groups, I'm sure we would have.
The moment I was introduced to Rich I knew we shared a love of people and life. Those times we ran into each other, there was always a warm exchange of hellos or jokes. It disagrees with my arguably delusional worldview that a human being of his caliber would get sick, but I also know he'll face the challenge with commitment, strength, and a spirit I've never seen shaken.
Here's the site his friends, family and coworkers have made for him. Browsing it will show you the kind of man he is:
It's where one person starts a tale, throwin' down a scene or sumthin', then tosses in a cliffhanger and lets the next person pick up where they left off. The new scribe either preserves the tone and advances the plot with their addition, or goes all anarchist and takes the action in a completely different direction.
It's like Exquisite Corpses (which I'd love to implement as Mini Nerd functionality, somehow), except with words instead of drawings. Sometimes the gameplay works better in theory than in practice, but I find it's always worth a few goes before switching to a game of Balderdash, Taboo, or Qbit.
To that end, I present this link to an online version of chain-storying - Ficlets - and invite you to enact tomfoolery with me.
Thanks to Lisa for the link! Hope you get in the game, kiddo. I also dare Teresa, Bill, Mike, Dory and Montreal Lisa to mince some words. And Bronwen, I'd love to write a chain story with you.
George Orwell (mentioned here last month in errata) posited humans would hate the idea of constant surveillance.
Turns out, we dig it large - at least if it's "men", and not "The Man", who're watching.
Blogs are a fair example of how, given our own terms and voices, we love to splay open, sometimes messily, our inner feelings, aspirations, observations and creations for a theoretical (and theoretically vast - yet intimate) audience.
It seems facetious to quote Shakespeare, but life can be a stage.
Where I'll dare to expand the Bard's assertion is to say, within our roles and responsibilities as employees, family members, friends and lovers even (loosely, "official" capacities), the stage is much like that in the theater, where we exchange our tragic and comic masks (among others) to "put on the best face" for a temporally present and captive audience, as it were.
On the web, in the blog - I would suggest - we get a more direct link (har har) to someone's inner machinery, their more raw and unpolished cogs of personality.
Can I go so far as to say, if everyday face-to-face life is a "stage" (sometimes a "screen", if we aim larger than life and have decent eyes), words and pictures on a monitor (like words and pictures on paper, possibly) are a "book" (for lack of a corresponding physical setting where written narrative is staged).
By that I mean, rather than preoccupy ourselves with appearances, outer dialogues, visible actions in the "real world", here we're concerned with what some can't disclose in person: their unspoken secrets, cherished hopes and dreams, closely-guarded shames and hesitations...what they "really think".
Is the web the best way we've found yet to achieve that universal inner connection some folk have sought for centuries? Is it the killer app for shared consciousness?
I'm reminded of Dan Simmons' "datasphere" from the Ilium/Olympos cycle of novels, something a little juicier and more inclusive than William Gibson's earlier (and equally prescient) conception of "the matrix", or cyberspace (which seemed less about connecting people than it did making cold, hard information available to those with the skill to access it). The old ARPANET vs. the interweb?
Whatevah.
Our cyberspace of today, our datasphere, is more cluttered and searching, more base and primal, than either of the above fictional constructs. If we choose to engage on a certain level, it feels...human.
An old question, yes, but I'm still asking it. Though technology distances us, can it nonetheless facilitate an intimacy of mind?
You tell me.
P.S. The link that inspired this ramble just sort of mysteriously appeared one day in my Favorites list. I never put it there myself.
Please join me in welcoming two new arrivals to the Friends section of the sidebar here at Mini Nerd: the lovely and talented artists Tinselman and Etherbrian.
I've been a fan of Brian's since nigh on my AOL days (i.e. over a decade). If I didn't need to attract a desirable female mate, I'd likely wallpaper my entire home with his glorious pixelated whimsies and smoove vectorific dreamscapes. At the very least, now that I'm past my below-the-poverty-line years, I can't wait to commission (read: pay for) an illustration from Brian to make up for all his free font and icon sets I downloaded back in the day.
Robyn Miller over at Tinselman I've lauded earlier here at Mini Nerd for his work with Cyan on the classic adventure videogames Myst and Riven, and his later collaboration with Keith Moore for the project 1,000 Years and 1 Day by Ambo (a favorite album of mine from last year). That is to say, his output's near and dear to my heart. As for you, if you've any interest in art, Robyn's radar for cool and interesting art-related web links is impeccable.
