gewgaw

Yesterday I succumbed to my twin flaws: greed and impatience. Every time this happens, I swear I will learn not to be greedy and impatient and then it happens again. What is this world trying to tell me?

Ok, so it’s not unusual. I’m not trying to pretend that I’m unique or even especially traumatized by my vices – it’s just that this time they inconvenienced someone else and that always makes it sting just a little bit more.

Typically, I rush and break something. Or find I have spoken to quickly and said something uncouth or idiotic. I may rush to judgment, only to realize later that I’ve forestalled a pleasant friendship or prompted an undesirable entanglement. Greed gets me in the same kinds of binds – eyes bigger than stomach, eagerness to own x or y item (which turns out to be kinda sucky or is rarely enjoyed). For these things, I suffer some embarrassment and guilt (relatively proportional to the incident at hand – barring matters of the heart for which I suffer tenfold).

But I digress. Last night in an attempt to cram several engagements into one evening I found myself tired, a bit spacy (two glasses of wine – full stomach), bidding one friend goodnight so as to quick dash off to see another. Getting ready I hurried around the apartment.. lipstick, boots, scarf, gloves, hat, coat, phone, wallet…

Keys. As a quiet, soft pillow of snow enveloped my beloved Chicago, I heard the precise click of my back door. Standing there with my keyring in my hand, I remembered that I’d unclipped my housekeys earlier in the evening.

Why? Because my keys are so heavy, see? I am taking care of cats and plants for out-of-towners and felt oppressed by the dutiful caribiner of jangly obligations. In my mind’s eye I could see the forgotten set laying on the hallway shelf in a pool of lamplight, shining like fantasy candy in a department store window. Just beyond reach.

After scolding myself, searching in vain each and every pocket on my person and still coming up short, I called Seth, who by now was almost all the way down to the city. Without missing a beat he offered to turn around, and was standing before my building with open arms and a tired, pitying look in less than 20 minutes – just enough time for me to cancel my other plans, leave a bunch of frantic messages for various people, and start to feel really REALLY guilty.

I cannot quite explain the quality of the next hour or so – the beautiful snow falling as we puttered in his recently-burgled Volvo to the other Seth’s house (if only I’d gone on the roadtrip with him like he’d suggested, instead of choosing home and mail duty). Because of the snow, and the late hour, and the holiday, there were hardly any people on the street. Cars parked sleepily as the 24th clicked in, and the sidewalks rolled out like pristine kindergarten fingerpainting paper.

Our voices and laughter were muffled by the snow, but echoed off the bricks around us. My diatribe of self-loathing was offset by his philosophy-student-superpower: the abilty to amplify the absurdity of a situation while simultaneously trivializing it.

When I stumbled upon a spare set of keys (next to the computer, under a pile of bills, in the back room: does this mean there is a God?) I felt a twinge of sadness. It would have made a great story – staying up all night, drinking Rip Van Winkle rye, listening to rare Jandek LPs and laughing our asses off at my stupidity. At least, until my unwitting hosts noticed the missing liquor and miss-filed vinyl…

Instead, we drove me back to my place. Seth encouraged me not to get too hopeful (after all, what were the chances?), and then helped me root around in the snow when, in a spontaneous flailing of exaltation, I dropped the spares. I’m really not making that up – that’s how quickly I forget the lessons life attempts to teach me.

But to make a long rambling story short: Seth Killian was the best Christmas present I’ve gotten in a long time. In about an hour and 20 minutes, he re-affirmed my faith in the basic sincerity, calm and kindness of people – even when faced with the trying, thoughtless antics of a chimp in human’s clothing.

Before the year is through: May each and every one of you find that yes, it’s a wonderful life – at least, in some strange and retarded way. Merry Christmas.

The desire to know someone’s “story”. From an early age we are taught to put ourselves in the shoes of another and imagine what it would feel like to experience their pain, struggle, triumph or defeat. Knowing these things about our friends and loved ones brings us closer.

I thought about this a lot while watching The Return of the King on Friday evening. Close-ups that linger on the breaking faces of Frodo and Sam… the pained expressions of women left behind… the glaze of eyes that have seen death and destruction. We know these things intuitively – they call to us.

Eyes wet, gut tight – I imagined these same tales told by a traveling storyteller, a chief, a parent. Even when the story came to me as words read aloud just before sleep – I would imagine heroes’ hearts, minds, and faces. And looking back, I realize that I’ve been studying stories my whole life.

—

People change and grow. Our communications reflect this. We document our changes, proclaim them to understand them. Through dialog we feel connected to friends and family even as we fluctuate. With each new piece of information, part of the story is sketched in.

It is now late on Saturday, and I just finished catching up with friends via email, chat and blog. Earlier, I reflected on the somewhat alienating, post-human feel of this activity but tonight it just felt familiar and comforting.

Today, I thought of Adrienne, Max and all those who will spend this holiday in hospitals or care. I thought of Justin and his spicy health soup, newfound books and late-night prowling. I imagined Silvio smoking in his kitchen just home from work, Seth and John driving to Atlanta in a brand new hybrid car, and Doug frowning at the hotel TV when SSX crashed and he lost all his progress (what a bummer!). Distant, varied – these people are part of my story.

Today’s highlights: finishing Prince of Persia, and giving Sabine a much-needed but much-protested bath.

—

Jee’s blog has been particularly interesting. She just returned from a two-week surfing trip to Costa Rica. Her entries offer a thoughtful, studied account of the trip and it’s effect on her feelings about work, life, and future plans. I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but her blog is peaceful. Reading it, you imagine her interior is a fully connected space – a fabric of continuity, where transitions are subtle but shaded in brilliant, rich hues.

When I look back at my own writing I see something very different – lots of floating islands, awash in a turbulent flood of energy. Thoughts and emotions flare like sunspots, and then fade into a sea of magma. What does cool must struggle against this constant activity. Experiences and lessons rile me. Temperatures rise and the familiar landscape is threatened. Pieces break away… sometimes forming new territory. Other times, they disappear forever.

Maybe a more appropriate analogy is the ocean. As Mark described in a recent email – the sea has a lot of motion, tension and swell on the surface but underneath, there is a deeper current. Reporting on one’s emotions – saying what one feels right now only shows the surface contour. Only with time can one know, and then express, a true feeling.

I am not always in touch with my current, and at times my own rhythm eludes me. This rarely stops me from trying to express my feelings. Against my better judgement, I speak blindly – because it feels like waiting will lead to forgetting.

—

I may be unaware of the deeper currents – but my friends see the patterns and truths in me – my family, too. What do they see?

I can guess from the jokes and jibes that grew up around me. To my parents, I am The Queen. “Yes, but what does the QUEEN want?” In college, Ken teased (with justification) “It’s all about Robin’s Needs.” A fan of understatement, Doug takes the high road. “Impatient? You?”

I am quick to emote and rarely shy of sharing. I self-report rapidly, frequently, for long periods of time. And when I get going, it can be pretty tough. What’s scary is that I feel it happening and yet still I do it. Is it a reflex? A disease? A gift?

In one of our phone-sumo matches, Justin confirmed that other people wonder sometimes, too. When I expressed frustration at the predictable pattern of my anguished ramblings about thesis, history and heart, he assured me that we’re all the same.

“Yeah you’re a geek – but all your friends know it already. And they’re geeks too. That’s why they love you.” I cannot remember the entire poem he shared with me – only the line he repeated afterwards. “Today’s clarity is tomorrow’s confusion.”

When I wake up will this seem like more emotional, pointless rambling? Only one way to tell, and that’s to sleep. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bid you goodnight!

The other night, in a fit of grad-school roommate procrastination solidarity, Paul watched me play Prince of Persia until the wee hours of the morning. A now-reformed multiplayer/twitch PC gamer, he was both fascinated and disturbed by the game’s immersive qualities. He’d get up and say “Oh I have so much work to do!” and retreat to the kitchen or his room… only to return five minutes later, asking if I’d gotten past this enemy or that trap. I could feel his anxious, ambiguous relationship to the game stomping around the room. Even as we discussed the merits of various styles of attack, he crossed his arms and danced from foot to foot like a clogger on hot coals.

I, on the other hand, am a recovered ‘recovered’ gamer. A brief period of alienation from them (late high school, early college) was all I could stand. What’s more, I cannot really play without thinking about my work – so the escapist fantasy fears that fueled my short separation from gaming have all but evaporated.

Ok – I felt a little guilty about staying up till 4. But only a little.

—

I’m about 65% of the way through the game. My initial frustration with the camera (especially irksome during the first few boss battles) has mellowed. Learning which enemies to vault and which to wall-vault at was critical. Now, when faced with a giant hoard of teleporting, brutish zombies, I can coordinate/chain a variety of attacks. I’ve also grasped the timing of recovery animations, which allows me to guide the prince out of a fall, (or the soul-sucking sand-dagger maneuver) and back into action without pause.

I feel a real sense of accomplishment about this ability, despite its total irrelevance to anything in my “real life”.

—

The scale of the world is really wonderful and Ico-esque. The familiar “abandoned, vast palace” setting gave the team license to create some beautiful, open spaces… and the camera pans are a nice touch. But unlike Ico, which had a lot of atmosphere, this game feels pretty sparse in places.

The chairs, tables, barrels and crates do little to help. Far from justifying the presence of a few necessary puzzle-pieces, they constantly remind me how little is actually there. Smashing stray furniture is a good idea (frees up space, eases pent up frustration with the camera). But once you get in the habit, you see how bare the world actually is. The underground caverns are especially plastic without multiple instances of the “stray pottery and detritus” set piece.

It’s a strange problem when you think about it – because human living spaces are usually filled with crap, organized around common traffic patterns with lanes for maneuvering between rooms and sometimes around within them (consider the path around your bed to a dresser, door, closet or desk). Even outdoor settings are rarely just open and free of obstacles. Ambient motion and activity, breaks in terrain – these are common. And yet – we survive without thinking about chaos – at least most of the time…

—

In “The Dynamic Structure of Everyday Life”, Phil Agre compares the planning view of the world (it’s fundamentally hostile, and basically, life is a series of problems to be solved) with his view of “situated activity”:

Everyday life has an orderliness, coherence and laws of change that are not the product of any representation of them. Everyday activity is almost entirely routine, even when something novel is happening.

Everyday activity is fundamentally improvised; contingency is the central phenomenon. An agent conducts its everyday activity by continually redeciding what to do.

The world is fundamentally benign. Life is a fabric of familiar activities.

If you think about it, the conflict between the “hostile world” assumption and Agre’s “familar world, familiar tasks” model is what makes games feel interesting/compelling… and also what makes them feel somewhat forced/false to non-initiates (or non-believers – ha!).

In many ways, game design is about choosing activities that will engage a player, and building a world representation around those activities that “collapses the boring parts”. Editing out things like eating, showering, sleeping, realistic travel time – this keeps the world active, eliminating chore/bore threats.

Of course, many games include downtime (what Derrida would call “white space”) as a pacing tool – giving the player rest and a chance to relax (or have a laugh) while visiting a friendly village, chatting up the shopkeepers and buying new gear. Unless, of course, we’re talking about a game that comments on both life and games – in which case, the downtime is actually the game – genius!. Some games include the chore/bore stuff just because it appeals to some people (what Mahk calls “games as submission”).

But you see what I mean. Games worlds are (mostly) hostile places full of novel problem-solving tasks and unexpected dangers – a direct contrast to the world Agre describes. This can make them seem really … pointless and contrived to an untrained eye/mind. And yet – any player will tell you: we get through these “false” worlds using common, everyday skills. Opportunism, improvisation, contingency planning, trial and error – the gamer’s toolkit.

Despite their unreality, games exercise our fundamental learning and coping mechanisms.

—

Real life isn’t a game. It’s filled with consistency, triviality, and things that are, basically, exactly as they appear. And as I see it, the more games mimic “reality”, the harder it becomes to ignore the strange disconnect between game reality and .. real reality (or even TV/Movie reality).

Note the contrast between the somewhat-realistic appearance of the carrion birds in Prince of Persia and their incredibly irritating, robotic attack patterns. In moments of extreme duress (these stutter-timed obstacles are probably my least-favorite thing about the game) they remind me that they are designed objects in a designed world. The game is revealed to me: a fanciful string of activities that distract me from more pressing, present concerns.

Ghouls – ghouls are fine. Somehow they’re much more believable – even when they suffer from similar, zombie-like flocking and attack behaviors.

But they’re not real ghouls. Even when I’m driving over the property and pedestrians of Liberty City (only slightly more convincing) it’s not real violence or vandalism. Some would argue that it’s a comment on these issues – a parody or reflection of how we perceive our world today. In many cases, it’s just another abstract timing puzzle – a make-believe challenge with a semi-realistic skin. Like James Bond and his poison dart wristwatch, or Wolverine and his deadly claws – they excite my imagination, but test my suspension of disbelief.

—

I’ve been thinking about this for years now. Order and effort, design and human cognition. Why do we seek order? Where do we feel the most out of control? How is it that in our play and entertainment we continually process these feelings – and yet the idea of constructive play is still overshadowed by test-based learning approaches? Why are we still so afraid of open-ended experience and exploration?

As I wander through life and weed through my notes I see so many connections. The whole of it is a story. Is it a story that any one person can tell?

Jane is right – the quizzes are a good way to put off yer laundry. My indie rock results:

“You’re Avante Garde Indie. You listen to abstract music like free-jazz and Krautrock. You drink too much coffee and you scare the fuck out of the rest of us. We’re afraid to call you pretentious because we know that we all just don’t get it. There are few of you out there, and most of you will probably die soon.”

Seth would be so proud!

On Saturday morning I surveyed the snow-frosted rooftops from my kitchen, and felt a warm laziness rising from my toes. By Sunday afternoon, the prospect of three weeks vacation was slowly tenderizing my shoulders. Today, I woke up (late), rolled over (slowly) and decided to read a while and cuddle with my cat (instead of compulsively checking my email). So it’s pretty much official – the holidays are here.

After years of school, my body seems to have internalized the quarterly academic calendar. I’m ABD, so courses, homework and exams are of little relevance to me these days. But I woke up today feeling lighter. Classrooms are empty and grades are (mostly) turned in. I, for one, feel relieved.

It took me a little bit of effort this year to get into the swing of things. Usually, I’m eager to buy a tree and fill the apartment with irritating (but fragrant) pine needles. But this year, I just wasn’t feeling it. I put some simple white lights and shiny, glittery orbs in my little sunroom garden – but that’s about it. They wink sleepily among the shy Ficus leaves and tall spidery palm fronds – festive, I guess… in a subtle, relaxed kind of way.

When I told Vern about my unusual lack of holiday spirit, he was concerned. “You gotta finish this dissertation soon,” he said “You’re starting to sound like ME!” But I can say now, without a doubt, that everything is a-OK. The one true indicator of Robin-cheer has returned – and it’s my appetite.

—

Lately, with all the travel and work, I just didn’t have the time or energy to prepare much food. English muffins (with peanut butter and honey), Luna bars and bananas were significant food groups for much of the fall. At times, the wonderful staff at Ethiopian Diamond must have felt responsible for my health and well being. I really would not be surprised if Yemiser wat still makes up 30% of my total mass.

But as I relax into the winter break, my culinary urges return full force. I’m feeding guests my favorite Indian and Thai dishes, and tempting my Vegan roommate with fresh beignets, butter-maple pancakes, whole-milk Mexican cocoa and chocolate-chip cookies. The fridge is stuffed with juice and cider, olives, stinky cheese, Macintosh apples and cold cuts. It will be tough to find room for the spicy deviled-egg salad (add Dijon or honey-spice mustard, sun-dried tomatoes, balsamic vinegar, cayenne pepper and a little paprika to the traditional recipe – it’s fantastic!).

Last night, it was all about butter: asparagus in lemon butter, acorn squash baked with butter and brown sugar, and butternut squash ravioli in sage-brown butter, with parmesan and bittersweet chocolate shavings on top. Charles Shaw (patron saint of all graduate students) rounded out the meal with a simple, cheap and enjoyable Cabernet. Tonight, the theme continued with warm peanut-butter cookies, fresh from the oven. Perhaps a Butterball turkey is next?

—

Probably not. It’s still going to be a low-key holiday for me – the first in many years that I didn’t plan around my family or romantic partner. Just me and a friend or two, doing our best to be happy, relaxed and productive during our seasonal downtime.

But it sure is nice to feel spirited as the new year approaches…

… and just a *tiny* bit stuffed.

I traveled a lot this year – and listened to a lot of people talk about games. When Game AI was discussed, I heard a lot about the potential of next gen consoles and parallel processing – but little in the way of concrete ideas about next steps.

When I sat down to write an introductory Game AI lecture this fall, my mind raced. Conflicting impressions of what’s happening made me hungry for new information. Gamasutra? Their most recent State of Game AI report is from 2001, and middleware was briefly discussed this summer. Academic publications? The Journal of Game Development is still in process. The next AAAI Game AI Workshop isn’t till July.

So – where is game AI today?

In particular, what’s up with Intelligent Agents in games? Even the most ambitious new games suffer from poor agent AI. While short-sighted design and hastiness are always an issue, the belief that “simple techniques” are sufficient (even in the most dynamic contexts) may contribute significantly to this phenomenon. As AI gets more priority and focus on teams, and worlds become increasingly dynamic – will current approaches scale?

For example, Rob and I have been talking a lot about FSMs. On paper, in draft, they often manifest as simple networks, transparent and easy to discuss from a procedural point of view. But in practice, they grow tangled, and are full of hidden information and assumptions. Consider:

Behavior (De)Composition: Finite state machines map a desired set of agent behaviors to states observed in the world and the rules that transitions between those states. Typically, they assert explicit and disjoint states. (i.e. an agent is Fighting, Fleeing or Patrolling – never really doing two things at once). You often add transitions and states that didn’t make it in to the original design as you build and debug. Because the agent’s behavior is embedded in this growing web of transitions and states – it can be hard to keep a clear, coherent picture of what the agent does. Evaluating its behavior for consistency involves tons of trial and error, and bugs can be very difficult to track down and fix.

Representation of Context: When should the agent’s understanding of the world change? How quickly or noticeable should this change be? Knowing what is going on is critical. FSMs often roll context into the design of state transitions (i.e “When X happens, go to state Y” where state Y instigates behavior Z). But writing transitions that clearly and consistently maintain your behavior goals can be very difficult – especially if the game system is changing alongside the agent AI. When there are gaps in the representation, an agent can get stuck in an undesirable state (or worse, stand around waiting to be updated, like a bored robot). The agent misses important opportunities to interact with the player in these situations – and looks pretty silly, too.

Behavior Arbitration: FSMs are a bit like a summer camp meeting, where you can only speak if you have “the talking stick”. Explicit transitions govern the passing of the stick, and it’s passed the same way for the same reasons over and over again. When and why the agents perform actions (action arbitration and behavior priority) are implicit in these transitions. Visualizing how priorities change based on new information can get hairy, and changes in how one behavior is weighted can mean lots of time and energy spent backtracking, updating transitions and so on.

Exposing these things can facilitate the design of good AI (where good is defined as consistent, challenging and believable) and make agents easier to debug for cardboard behavior, mistakes, leaps in logic or jarring transitions. > systems are one alternative. Consider:

Behavior Arbitration: Behavior-based systems can expose arbitration schemes and priority structures. For example, many parallel behaviors may vote on who gets to act next. Each behavior’s importance (the wieght of their vote) can be calculated as a function of its relevance to the current context. The closer the danger, for example, the louder the vote for confronting that danger would be.

Representation of Context: In addition, these systems can generalize the agents’ sensory perception model. Signals from the outside world are observed continually and then interpreted over time. Low-level sensing can be manipulated by higher-order behaviors – creating a tiered system that separates context sensitivity from behavior design. Desiging cooperative or competative agents can be much easier in this type of system.

Behavior (De)Composition: Of course, you have to consider each agent’s goals and how they may interact/conflict as multiple behaviors are initiated and executed. But when debugging, changing the agents is a matter of editing and adding behaviors and arbitration rules- instead of editing and adding states and transitions for all possible states. That alone may be worth a step away from FSM implementations.

Reading this over it feels a bit hacked and vague – but it’s the closest I’ll get to a clear articulation of the problem tonight. Maybe someday I’ll get a blog with comments up and y’all can fill me in on how the argument could be improved?

I find myself wondering: What else can be said about the “simple techniques” that we see mentioned in Game AI literature? How are developers modifying these approaches to create new solutions? We can’t keep building realistic-looking humanoid agents (characters with individually articulated eyelashes, as Doug would say) who basically act like distracted, geriatric dogs. Can we???

Hopefully my conversations at GDC, the Experimental Gameplay Workshop href=”http://www.aaai.org/Conferences/National/2004/aaai04.html”>AAAI will shed more light on how the development and research communities plan to jump from ex to next…

The other day, Lauren sent me the “Which kind of postmodernist are you?” quiz link. I’m a “gender nazi”. So, apparently, is Ian.

What is a gender nazi? “You are a Gender Nazi. Your boundary-crossing lifestyle inspires awe in your friends and colleagues. Or maybe they’re just scared you will kick their asses for using gender-specific language. Either way, the wife-beater helps.” Obviously, a joke – and like any joke – referencing some truth. I certainly reflect on gender, identity and costume often….

—

Playing Soul Calibur 2, for example, I find it hard (nay, impossible) to ignore the constant ambiant motion of Taki’s now double-D breasts (why, why didn’t they at least give the poor girl a sports bra?). Voldo’s gyrating animations and transgendered vibe are always of interest – as is Astaroth’s manly-man “v-shape” and peek-a-boo codpiece. During one after-work throwdown, a (male) undergrad joked uncomfortably about my continual commentary on the costumes and demeanor of SC2’s character set. He found it disturbing that I paid so much attention to these things – and that I seemed to derive pleasure from discussing/observing them in detail.

When my roommate called me into his room last night to see this AIM popup , I immediately asked him to screenshot it and send it to me. I mean – it’s too good/bad not to share, right?

Even my mother has made mention of the frequency and …intensity of penis-enlargement and sex-cam spam in her inbox. Now that her best friend is in England, email is a daily companion – and so is this new image of modern sexuality. We now have a running joke about the size of her penis.

—

Technology breaks down the barrier between us, and between our gender identity and the performance/portrayal of gender in popular culture. I am continually spammed with descriptions and images of men and women engaged in hardcore pornographic acts with men, women and inanimate objects. Can I help it if I mention it in casual conversation, or note the similarity between costumes on game characters and those in domination-themed advertisements?

I am lazy, or I’d do another picture-essay comparing game character attire and the porno spam I get. Hell – I may decide to do this and post it later in the week. Then maybe I can send the link to Sheri, as a potential supplement for her book on Gender Inclusive Game Design – since it’s low on illustrations. Why? As stated here:

A few weeks after this review was posted, Sheri Graner Ray contacted iDevGames with the following addition:

“I just wanted to let you know that you hit the nail on the head when you guessed the reason for the lack of pictures. I had tons of screen shots scheduled for that book, but surprise surprise… none of the publishers would give me permission to use them!”

Hmm… perhaps they are gender nazis of a different stripe?

I finally posted the photos from Thanksgiving – including a brief essay on Geek Fried Turkey. If you are considering this (delicious but dangerous) preparation technique for Christmas dinner – please take a look. It might just save your patio/life!

Today after I shut off Prince of Persia, the tv (on MTV I think) was showing an ad for Clairol’s Herbal Essence line of shampoos. The ad featured lots of tan models in shower-natural scenes (waterfalls and the like) and close-ups of candy-colored tropical fruit, while a sexy voiceover gushed about the “delicious” experience of washing your hair with the product. The final tag line for the ad was something like: “Clairol Herbal Essence – Have You Had Your Sorbet Today?”

Back when I was an undergraduate illustrator, I did a scratchboard for an article in the Grey City Journal about the politics of The Body Shop. This article (I really apologize for not being able to cite it) examined at length the Body Shop’s “green” products, and in particular, the chain’s prominent use of food imagery and food language in its advertisements.

The gist: mainstream “beauty products” (I love that phrase) would soon begin to smell like food. In a classic “enjoy it without suffering for it” message/manipulation, women would be encouraged to purchase products that contained/smelled like food, instead of actually consuming the food directly.

I was really struck by this article. I have a very sensitive nose which makes it difficult for me to use products that smell like much of anything – my own perfume will give me a headache if I’m not careful. But after reading it, I couldn’t smell peach facial scrub or strawberry-kiwi conditioner without contemplating eating disorders. And it was kind of strange, and upsetting, to see the act of washing hair compared to eating sorbet this evening.

Looking at both sites you’ll notice the “orgasm” theme is still going strong in the cosmetic industry. Man, if using makeup made ya feel that good, there’d be no need for places like this.

—

I’ve never been one to watch much television – but after staying with Souris in NYC and discussing the subject at length, I have been trying to tune in and flip around a bit every now and again. What I’m seeing is really strange and interesting. The smattering of queer-positive, pro-geek shows, the growing interest in style/design (in homes, clothes/appearance, gagets and so on) and especially the focus on wealth.

It’s a strange world where the Smiths-listening Welcome-to-the-Dollhouse-type nerds are now making shows and commercials – and so are their once-popular, now SUV-driving rivals. A strange combination of messages, motives and marketing.

Another thing (since I’m talking about TV) – how about dem game ads? Wow.

People are trying to catch up to EA, and put some content out there during prime time viewing – but man, some of the spots look super amature. I saw a Karaoke Revolution ad today that had a K-Tel Records vibe. Complete with screen wipes and stuff. Eew!

Was this deliberate? I love this game, and there are so many ways you could make it look cool – why, why did they go with “Celebration” and the funky black man voiceover?

Maybe it’s just that I’m me, always looking for connections, but it seems that the games I’m playing lately reflect me back to myself, in strange, striking ways. Even the ones I play for just an hour or two are teaching me, telling me things.

For example, Hamtaro: Ham Ham Heartbreak has been very enlightening. Goofy? Yes. Waddling around looking for broken hearts to mend, singing the praises of love, learning words like “koochie-q” and “hamigos”… sometimes I did feel a bit foolish. I told myself I was playing the game to figure out what made good “girl games”…

But honestly – I loved it. Those gushy, blushy little reunion scenes made me smile. Sometimes kind of wistfully. There’s a lot to be said for the warm fuzzy comfort of a close, special friend – a person who you just *get*. It’s a thing that I have come to appreciate, however sappy that may sound.

I feel that uncomfortable ache when things aren’t right, that tight-tummy-sad-sad-why-didn’t-I-say-what-I-was-feeling feeling. And when smiles appear, signaling a peace, a whole – I feel the tension dissipate, like wax melting from my shoulders. Seeing the little hamsters learn to forgive and forget, kiss and make up – it made me feel lighter.

And I need that these days. I’m strung tight, and susceptible to my temper. SSX, Tony Hawk, Prince of Persia – these games are letting me (and everyone who watches me play them) know just how childish I can be. My patience, focus and skill drop with each repeated effort. Two or three tries and suddenly I’m hitting my knee, growling about the timing, the controls. Frustrated.

But I’ve seen other people play. I know the problem isn’t external. Plenty of people succeed where I fail, and even more learn from their mistakes. Why do I still cast around for excuses? And why do I keep playing till my thumbs are sore?

The furious quit/reload cycle goes deep, far beyond wall vaults or high scores. I’m an overachiever. When I fail I feel like a failure. Put in situations where I feel pressured to perform, I balk, tense up, become hyper-conscious of my actions. Just read a few entries back to the discussion of voice. I’m struggling with it every day.

One thing that’s becoming clearer as I sink into my winter routine – there will be plenty of trials, repeats, and do-overs. I’m going to have to get better at doing it right the tenth time, the thirtieth.

Mario and Luigi understand this. Their whole bag – trial and error, rolling with the punches, mountains of progress in single hops and jumps. Laughing out loud at the animations and dialog in Superstar Saga has eased my mind many a night before bed. Snug in my nest, cat curled up beside me, I giggle to hear Fawful screech at the brothers:

Princess Peach’s voice will soon be the bread that makes the sandwich of Cackletta’s desires! And this battle shall be the delicious mustard on that bread! The mustard of your doom!

and later… in protest of defeat: I HAVE FURY!!!

When am I not having fury? When am I most relaxed and in flow? When listening to music. Playing DDR or Karaoke Revolution with friends, blazing through Amplitude and Rez (had to try out my recent Tokyo purchase), the challenge and pleasure meet halfway. The music makes and then breaks the spell. Groove washes away my anxiety, and I am in the moment.

It’s always been that way. I listen to Out Hud as I type, and the strain of producing words is balanced, buoyed by the rising and falling of beats, chords… Later, the singer of !!! enthuses to a funky riff, and I pause to listen. “Sometimes there aren’t any answers, just what happens next…”

And right at that moment, it actually makes sense.

I have been thinking (and chatting with folks) about the state of the gaming press for a while now… Here is a little examination of what’s out there today.. from the “judge that book by its cover” school of thought.

In a similar vein, I am starting a gallery of geek ads that display the tech industry’s “hostile environment” problem in amusing and new ways. I started with hardware ads from PC Magazine (for the most part, donated by colleagues).

Next, I’m moving on to gaming web pages and mags. Blue hair, hotpants, supersized boobs?

Send it in & I’ll post it.