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Vancouver is a beautiful city! You can hear people say it, but you won’t understand it until you visit. Even in the rain, damp and a bit chilly – it’s worth the trip.

Often compared to San Francisco or Seattle (similar weather and landscapes), Vancouver succeeds where its North American cousins fail. Sidewalks are wide and open, terraces filled with public seating and trees. Tall buildings are bounded by broad boulevards, while smaller business and shops are crisscrossed with one-way streets (plenty of metered parking). People are out at all times, and stepping off the street into a resturant for crepes or coffee, it’s hard to remember you’re not in Europe. It is a city that feels *alive* in the Christopher Alexander sense of the word.

Everything feels central – despite the fact that the area is divided by water on two sides. It was a 10 minute walk from the hotel to the waterfront (beautiful mountains in the background, ship’s horns sounding just like they do when you roll your ball over them in Katamari) . 10 minutes by cab and we were across the bridge in the heart of Vancouver’s Asian food district (Tojo’s is fantastic). A little further, and we were in a cozy residential neighborhood that reminded me of Berkely.

Except that this was affordable. In a small house, with gracious hosts and 2$ beers (Green! Canadian!) we mingled with young zombies and djs, artists and designers. Conversation was pleasent, people eager to share a bit of dramatic or thematic posing with my camera. The basement bumped and the landing was crowded – apparently the gin and tonics were strong. We definitely all had a good time.

I am really looking forward to returning – so much so that I didn’t bother changing my Canuck bucks to dollars on the way back.

—

The conference itself (if you can call it that – it was more like a day-long brainstorming session) was also inspiring. Highlights included Malcolm’s mini-lecture on experience-centered architecure and urban planning, Greg and Doug’s discussion about the authorship of interactive play experiences, and the group’s collective unpacking of “entertainment” experiences versus “freeform” or “improvisational” play.

When we weren’t discussing, Nokia was feeding us… and when we were done eating, we played Werewolf. Sightseeing, museumgoing, beers and costumes – the weekend had it all. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun with such a diverse and interesting group of people… and I’m sure to share their work with you over the next few months.

In fact – I had so much fun that I didn’t take any pictures until Saturday night! The spooky night vision shots from the party are here. Hard to imagine we were having so much fun – when we all look so… dead!

Happy Halloween!!!

A couple of days ago, a reader sent me a link to this Penny Arcade image. I forwarded it to Keita – who pointed me to the new Katamari fanclub at 1-up (the gamer site, not to be confused with Raina’s wonderful, silkscreened game and culture zine). Sugoooooo…i! Exciting! I made a profile and joined the club – and was surprised to see just how comprehensive their culture-building/marketing/segmenting tool is! You can upload photos of yourself, set up a little blog, list your game collection (which they kindly value for you) and on and on and…

Of course you can network with other 1-upsters. I posted the profile at about 4pm – and by 6 I had friend requests from three total strangers. I mean… fans! Needless to say, I don’t think I’ll be posting a lot to the thread – too much to do elsewhere. But I’m happy to be a part of the club – because I really am a fan, and I want to show it.

—

The whole exercise made me think about fandom, and acting on your enthusiasm for a product, personality or phenomenon.

Some say there are fans… and there are connoisseurs. Fans are enthusiastic, but connoisseurs spend time getting to know what they worship. It’s the difference between someone who warms the bleachers at every home baseball game, year after year – and someone who only listens to ball games on the radio, but meticulously memorizes stats, and maintains a massive, museum-quality card collection.

Hrm. I’ve invested time and money in games for study and recreation – but I’m far from an encyclopedic knowledge or collection. Every once and a while, I go gaga over a game (like Parappa) which may prompt me to purchase expensive memorabelia (like the Parappa toaster which sits in my office). But I won’t jump at just any old game. It has to be special!

A while back, Lucas asked me if I considered myself a gamer. Answering that question, I had to explicitly position myself with respect to fandom and connoisseurship… and consumption. But with Katamari… all that stuff just melts away. The opening music and credits make me giggle! I smile when I see a picture of the Prince, gush about the gameplay and dialog. And if I had a Katamari t-shirt I would wear it out!

Hey – why *don’t* I have a Katamari t-shirt?

—

In other news: I posted another set of photographs from my recent trip to Tokyo. These are street photos, the cosplay stuff is still waiting in the wings. But I like a lot of these photographs, and am already wishing I could go round the corner for some ramen. Souris had a similar reaction – she looked at them and said “I can’t wait to go back an buy more socks!”

:)

Also posted are photos from Steph’s opening – which was a great time, despite the serious subject matter. If you are in Chicago I really encourage you to take an afternoon and visit the exhibit. Like Katamari – it’s something that will change your perspective. And I’m a fan of that!

Paul is an awesome roommate. He’s laid back, clean, and he has good taste in clothes and music (see him beatbox tomorrow night). On top of this he lets me use his car, endures Sabine (despite allergies), and takes out the trash (which I just hate doing).

Most importantly: he keeps grad student hours, and indulges in late-night, snack-break conversations. Tonight we covered statistics (he’s working on some homework) which lead to experiment design, my experiements, why people get PhD’s, and a discussion of post-graduate jobs.

Andy Wilson, who Paul met at a recent HCI conference is an inspiring example. After graduting from the Media Lab he went to work for MSR. His experimental TouchLight system (similar to Zack Simpson’s shadow applications) utilizes a holoscreen projection setup and some cameras (which look *through* the glass at the user instead of at their shadow, from behind) to capture the image of a person’s gestures and actions within the screen space. There’s a great little demo on MSR’s page; the workshop paper fills in some of the technical details.

—

Watching the video, Paul and I commented on Andy’s delivery. Notice how he is quick to use words like “simple” and “idea” when discussing the work. Instead of selling the audience on all the great wonderful things it can do, he plants seeds for what it *might* do – and then lets the listeners (in this case, the interviewer) fill in the blanks. Imagine how smart that dude felt after it was all over!

Paul and I are primed to these cues because we’ve been reading Leil Lowndes’ How to Talk to Anyone, which he picked up at the airport while returning from conference. Essentially, the book encapsulates conventional wisdom in Communication Studies – rules for sending “welcome” messages and encouraging ease in conversation. Each chapter presents a problem, follows with a memorable story (or two), and closes with a “trick” – things like “Never a Naked Introduction” or “The Broken Record”.

Lowndes practices what she preaches. Her stories emphasize the “good intentions gone awry” nature of standard conversational gaffaws – so that even the most clueless reader will come away feeling OK about past mistakes. She uses personal examples – which show she’s learned from experience (not some crazy lab studies or book worming) and mixes in a healthy dose of self-deprecating “Me Too” tales, which to draw the reader to her as well.

—

But as interesting (and helpful) as this book is – it’s hard to read it (or anything like it) without feeling a little creeped out. One of the first tips I flipped to was ‘Encore” – which states that good conversation often starts with stories. Trying to conduct introductions? Ask a friend or colleague to “Tell ‘em about that the time when”. Just be sure that it’s a flattering story – preferably one that’s funny. Soon enough, everyone’s laughing and chipping in.

Oddly enough – a pivitol scene in I Heart Huckabees revolves around this exact phenomenon. The existential investigators use a character’s “Encore” stories against him – showing that in fact, he has no real personality. He’s invested his life in simple tricks, and without them – who is he? It’s a sad moment – one that leaves you wondering about your own gems!

And so the book has me evaluating my strategies – and watching others. I find myself thinking about how people package ideas and statements – wondering how much of what appears to be unconcious is really unconcious. No wonder Erving Goffman went nuts! I feel like a spy!

—

But maybe it’s not the book? I went to see Susan over the weekend and got my hair did. This time it’s champagne-and-sand blond – almost taupe. After the Ozzfest yellow of summer, it’s quite a shocking transformation. I look in the mirror and imagine that I should be pinning it up (behind glasses) for a shift at the library… or setting it with hot rollers in preparation for cocktails with Fred Astaire (in a gown, heels, cigarette holder and fur stole). It feels like a disguise, after so much punk rockness!

And I’m wearing jewelry! Now that my hair is not hogging all the attention of passing eyes, I can get away with some of the great, chunky pieces that I’ve collected over the years. Big pins now add just a bit of sparkle (instead of piling on yet more pizazz) … necklaces and bracelets round out my (rather conservative) fall and winter clothes. For a long time, I’ve actually dressed down to compliment my insane hair – and it’s fun to have a chance to play a bit more with my accessories.

—

And speaking of play – I’ll be in Vancouver over the weekend to attend a Nokia gig, talking about play and games with a bunch of interesting people – many of whom I’ve never met. I’ve never been to the city, and I hear the sushi is great. I’m looking forward to eating some great meals, making some new connections, and shaping some new ideas!

Attention Readers:

If you live in the US, you should be voting very soon. And what better way to remember the event, than with a photo? All the action will be taking place behind the curtain – a place that ONLY YOU can go. C’mon America! Let’s show the world what our democratic process actually looks like!

So go in that booth and then take a picture. You can snap yourself before marking your ballot (keeping the results to yourself), during the vote (perhaps posing deep in thought?), or after (flashing the horns, tongue out?). I really don’t care. In fact – I don’t care who you vote for. I just want to see you, in the booth, doing the deed. Voting, that is (no nudity, please).

Seriously. If you have a digicam or cell phone cam – bring it along. Shoot a quick portrait and then.. shoot it to me by uploading your photo here. If you fill in valid info (no reason you have to – x’s will work, too) then the pix will sort by name for easy location. I’ll post the “results” in a special Election Portraits gallery a couple of days after the election.

And please – pass/post it on!

—- Notes —

11/1 @ 5pm

Some places (such as Wisconsin) don’t have curtains – in which case you are SOL, as they say. You should not take photos outside of a curtained booth, or try to photograph the polling location itself (even though private investigators are doing this in Florida for… undisclosed interests). The only person’s privacy you have the right to invade is your own!!!

However you *can* submit a drawing of yourself voting, a triumphant “I voted!” picture (make it creative!), and so on. I’ve already recieved mail from people who will submit photos of themselves voting absentee, or of the deli counter where they voted early. Ha!

11/2 @ 12 pm

For info on how things are polling, see Andrew Tanenbaum’s amazing poll statistics update page. Note that recent changes in electoral vote predictions are due to two Fox News polls and a third Republican poll – if you disregard them, Kerry is up by over 60 electoral votes. If the site goes down (there have been some attacks) you can see the mirrors at electoral-vote3 and electoral-vote8.

So. The good news is that after months of something resembling focus, my thesis is moving along at a relatively steady clip. The paper is getting written, the program is getting polished, experimental approval is being processed, and my committee is preparing for review. It’s quite something, in fact – to feel all these elements slowly converging… mass that will explode to form the universe of my post-graduate life. In many ways, I feel like the architect of that universe, the captian of that ship… like I’m walking on air.

But the process, however successful, is slow. Some days – things even seem to be moving backwards. I finish a chapter, but discussion or peer review brings a new point to light. I submit paperwork, and it comes back with requests for revision. New people join my committe, old constraints are changed. And in my head – the tiny markers get shifted, erased, re-seeded, and receeded. At these moments, I feel totally out of control, like I’m treading water in a huge, angry sea… the horizon constantly shifting, no land in sight.

Yesterday was one of those days. I packaged up a round of revisions for the IRB approval and sent them downtown… but even if the paperwork is turned around in a week, there’s no way I can meet my December defense date. Standards and protocols demand that I give my committee at least a month to review the work before defending – and the experiments I’ve got planned will take at least a month to conduct and analyze, not to mention write up. That’s at least one more month more than I’ve got.

—

I set my December deadline because I wanted to ship for Christmas. It seemed like a good idea, lots of people will be doing it – and I hoped against hope that the IRB stuff would wiz by. But as anyone who’s worked on such a project knows, even factors within your control conspire against progress. You think the work will be easier, and that you’ll work harder (and better, and longer) than you ever have (”just stay up” as Doug always says). And all that other stuff (the paperwork, faxes, signatures and phone calls) – well it seems like just another checklist. Not time on the clock, or weeks on the calendar.

But deep down, even the greenest of us knows that a slip (or three) is likely. We become incredibly sensitive about small things… hangups that happen even though we are working longer and harder than ever before. Suddenly, a broken copier or sick secretary is cause for existential angst of unparalleled scale. We try to manage our expectations, work to factor in slack time, but it’s hard to stay positive. And being sad doesn’t help you make deadlines. Natural, necessary emotional responses just feed the frustration. Go go, gadget limbic system!

—

Recently, my office mate remarked that neither he nor I are stressing/freaking out quite as much as recent thesising graduates. And on some level he’s right. It’s been about 18 hours since I decided to extend my deadline and I’m already feeling better. I think that seeing people go through it, and live through it, has helped us both maintain a more realistic perspective on the process and not take setbacks too personally.

But it gets harder each day. In the minds of younger peers, friends and family, getting a degree is about sitting down and typing it up. ‘Cause really – you’ve been thinking about this stuff for 6 years – how much longer can it take? Thesising candidates know that it’s more like a gobstopper – complex layers of anxiety wrapped around a nightmarish, bureaucratic center that just refuses to melt. But we feel pressured to dispatch it quickly, with a smile, in spite of ourselves. Each polite inquiry becomes a trial.

—

So what helps?

Despite what I’ve said about internal pressures, friendly encouragement does make a difference. I’m bound to interpret almost any thesis-related query as thinly-veiled expectation – that’s just what happens when you’re focused on such an important goal. But the notes and jokes and forwards (like the adjustable shoes pictured at the top of this post – thanks, B!) are a big win. Really. Just the occasional “Hi, thought this would make you smile”, does wonders.

Watching the Red Sox win the pennant was also a boost. I always root for the underdogs, and now that habit has a lot going on behind it. In the 7th, when Boston switched pitchers and gave up two runs, I couldn’t help but wonder: did they want to lose? Did I? How often do we defeat ourselves for fear of succeeding – and disappointing our fans elsewhere, further down the road?

Well, they got past it. They shut down that inning, and moved on to finish 7 ahead (despite a renewed round of jeers from the crowd and what must have been insane pressure). And that was great – especially since their catcher went to my high school. Sure, he took some so-so swings, popped some so-so hits. But he worked with the rest of the team to keep the focus, pitch by pitch. And in the end, that’s what won it.

Despite setbacks, they’re moving on.

And damnit, so am I!

My friend Stephanie is returning from the Middle East this weekend to attend an opening at the Peace Museum where her photos will be displayed through November.

Stephanie’s journal reflects upon her experiences as a war-time photographer, the pain and suffering of innocents, and the psychological pressures that weigh down journalists, service workers and military forces in Iraq. Her photos, which show everything from bloodied survivors to breastfeeding refugees, are a powerful testimony to the entanglements of war – a “solution” that blooms with pain and problems.

They’re tough to look at – there’s no denying it. I suppose that’s why so few networks and media agencies here in the states showcase such work. No one likes to read about pain and suffering; seeing it is much, much harder.

But isn’t it our duty, as citizens of this “democratic nation” and proponents of a “democratic world”, to absorb some of the pain caused by this war – which our tax dollars help pay for? Shouldn’t we be focusing on these issues – discussing them, instead of giving in to knee jerk reactions and theatrical noise?

Only by facing both sides of the divide can we come understanding, hope, and peace.

My preview of the new Public Beta book arrived today, courtesy of a handshake between the Royal Mail and our very own postal service. Hooray! It’s such a joy to see something like this take shape!

For those of you unfamiliar with the concept: the book is a collection of answers to simple – but difficult – questions about video games. It’s a philosophical examination of the form, its creators and players… an attempt to move beyond the simple vocabulary and evaluation systems of most popular game journalism towards a richer, more meaningful discussion. I enjoyed writing my answers immensely, and cannot wait to read everyone else’s.

Looking over the text, I’m tickled to see so many familiar names… and eager to become acquainted with so many new ones. Like Raph’s book – it’s conversational… but in a different way. More like attending a well-planned party for game designers, researchers and journalists. And then surfing between clusters, overhearing snippets of dialog.

In fact, if you listen carefully between the quotes, you can almost hear the tinkle of ice in cocktail glasses, laughter… and the murmur of a console or two.

—

Making a book happen is no small thing. Making one that you keep coming back to (despite meetings and work and email and so on… it’s been hours and I’m still poking around in it… ) – well, that’s an accomplishment.

So I’m flattered to find my name listed on the cover. But in the acknowledgements as well? That makes me blush! I only did what anyone with half a brain would do. Just got behind the people who were doing the right thing. Two hardworking, dedicated people, at that.

Kudos to you, Iain and James. May you continue to make things manifest, in this – our most digital of ages!

Today I took a little time out from my weekend of thesis slogging and chores to read through some of Raph’s latest effort. I opened the manuscript expecting what you usually get from game books – and boy, was I surprised.

A thoughtful take on how and why games are fun (and important), it reads a lot like… chatting with him. The text is chock full of insights, jokes and asides… guaranteed to educate AND put any reader (gamer or not) right at ease. And that’s just the prose; he’s included over 100 comic/illustrations (yes, he drew them himself) as well.

So now he’s… an accomplished designer, a degreed academic, a published musician, author and illustrator… not to mention a dedicated husband and father. Maybe he should run for President?

A Theory Of Fun will be available very soon at bookstores near you – put it on your wish list!

My parents and my brother live in Florida. Thanks to the electoral college and the breakdown of red and blue states – their votes will count for much more than mine here in blue, blue Chicago. And so far, they’re voting for Bush.

A couple of days ago I decided to open a dialog with my folks about the debates, hoping to find a way to turn them – or at least, give them some things to consider before pulling the trigger. I did so against my better judgement: we typically disagree, and they are stubborn (like me). Worse, I tend to take it personally when we disagree; they’re my parents, and deep down I suppose I’ll always be their child, looking for approval.

But I did it. I sent my dad a forward about the debates, and asked to hear his thoughts.

—

The response was not encouraging. In a nutshell, he is anti “liberal”, and views Kerry as a “redistributionist” who thinks too much. According to my father:

being President is NOT like being in a debate…it is more like being in the boxing ring, getting punched repeatedly vs. being one of the clever sideline commentators.

Ok – sure. Being President is about trying to make decisions under pressure. But is Bush the kind of person to have making those decisions? My dad saw a PBS special about the candidates, and felt that:

…it indicated that Bush is the type who asks advisors what they think, makes up his own mind and then is hard-headed about implementing the decision… Kerry is much smoother and more analytical. One of Kerry’s own advisors said “When we’d talk about an issue, I could imagine maybe 4 or 5 approaches to argue. John would see 25 options and would want to discuss each one of them in detail.” When the President is being bombarded with problems (like the boxer in the ring) I have a concern about “paralysis by analysis”. Jimmy Carter was a very smart President, but he didn’t get much accomplished and was seen as undecisive.

So a tough, hard-headed guy who is quick to make decisions and act – as opposed to a thoughtful, analytical person who tries to see all the angles and make an informed decision? This is the ideal for a man who starts every project by sharpening (not one, but two) pencils and making a detailed diagram (on graph paper)? This from the engineer who supervised a nuclear power plant, who consults on “Total Quality Management” – a die-hard for “Doing It Right The First Time”?

—

Later in the day, my brother (who was CC’d on the thread) sent out this smug joke about voting Republican. I’d been holding back all day, processing my feelings about my father’s email, weighing various approaches and takes on the content he presented. But the ant/grashopper thing just pushed me overboard, and I responded with somewhat of a rant. It’s probably weak, as arguments go (even with edits). But I was tired and hungry, and… disappointed in both of them.

The thing is – I realize that these candidates are basically sides of an all-too-familar coin. I get that to become a politician in this country you need to have great fortune, or a fortune – and that the latter is more often the case. In the last 30 years, the two parties have drifted closer together, appealing to “extremes” in election times. I understand that most of the promises on both sides are necessarily empty. But even still, I feel there’s an imporant philosophical difference between them.

—

This morning I was playing some Kingdom of Loathing while eating my breakfast. I hadn’t played in a couple of days, and my adventures were piling up – and really, I just wanted to take a break from reading and thinking. I’d been trudging along at level 4, visiting the limerick dungeon, acquiring moxie and muscle – and the occsaional mysticalness. After a somewhat damaging visit to Degrassi Knoll, I decided to take a rest and … check my messages.

In my inbox was a prompt to donate to the KOL fund via PayPal, in exchange for a “Mr. Accessory”. The sender promised 300 million meat in return for a message – sounded like a bunch of hooy to me. But I have been enjoying the game, so I donated anyway. Never hurts, right?

Mr. Accessory arrived. I equipped him. HOLY CRAP!

Suddenly the mail made sense. The “Mr. Store” (where you can get much stronger Accessories in exchange for say – $50 worth of Mr. Accessories) made sense. Guys of level 215 with every manner of meat made sense. Jesus Christ, what a bummer.

It’s not that I don’t expect this kind of stuff to go on – it always goes on. In any economy, such things go on. It’s just that … well, with a silly little game like KOL – shouldn’t the players kind of *not care* about all that crap? Shouldn’t they be like me – just playing it because the jokes are funny, and it’s fun to puzzle over your 40-odd moves a day? Play nice, enjoy, all happy happy joy joy style?

Fat chance, you hippy!

—

And that’s just the thing, isn’t it?

The Republicans are about keeping Mr. Accessory in the dark. Let the “in crowd” pass it around, let the proles work up from the bottom. In the minds of Republicans, the Mr. Accessories of this world are a secret – best kept by a select few. Those newbs would only mess everything up for the rest of us, anyhow.

Democrats, on the other hand, are about exposing Accessories for what they are: a quick trip up the ladder, in exchange for a little… compromise. Sure – it’s gonna happen. In fact – it’s probably a good thing, because it helps people get where they want to go (if they want it badly enough). But it’s something we should acknowledge. Each person should have the chance to aim for a Mr. Accessory, and the means to obtain him.

After that – well, it’s up to you.

—

So now you know. My relatives may put that asshole in the White House for another 4 years, and on top of that, I’m traipsing around with store-bought muscles. If you want to level up really fast, go donate some cashola. Then, if’n ya want, go find a clan where you can exchange your Mr. Accessory for a crapload of meat.

… so you can go to the Mall of Loathing, buy a bunch of grapefruit schnapps, and party like a grasshopper, baby.

In the coffee shop, he looked aorund for Lou: not here yet. He waited for one of the small tales in front of the counter to clear, glancing the while at the headlines. Some priest who quit and got married. Gold and silver shortages. Orgy that the cops broke up. Rapes and murders. Makings of another large war. A table opened up: Henry claimed it, looping his scarf over the second chair. War seemed to be a must for every generation. A pageant to fortify the tribal spirit. A columnist plumped for bloodless war through the space race. Henry sympathized with the man, but it could never work. Mere abstraction. People needed casualty lists, territory footage won and lost, bounded sets with strategies and payoff functions, supply and communication routes distrupted or restored, tonnage totals, and deaths, downed planes, and prisoners socked away like a hoard of calculable runs scored. Besides, war was available to everybody, the space race to few: war was a kind of whorehouse for mass release of moonlust. Lunacy: anyway, he sure wasn’t inventing it. The dishes on his table were cleared with a hard clap and rattle that hammered on the bare raw lobes of his brain and made him wince with pain. Don’t give up, he cautioned himself. The waitress sponged the table with a rag that smelled like something between an old goat and a dead fish. He orderd a muffin and coffee, hoping he could keep it down.

Mornings, while eating breakfast, I’ve been reading The Universal Baseball Association, Inc., by Robert Coover. It’s the last of my loaners from Warren – each about a different game.

J. Henry Waugh has been playing his home-made dice game for years – working hard on the tables and charts so that it’s compelling. And he’s succeeded. His kitchen is full of accumulated volumes – stats, rosters, commentary – a whole universe down to the smallest detail. Every morning, he wakes up thinking about baseball. And every night he goes to sleep dreaming about it. For Henry, it really is the world’s greatest game.

In a nutshell, the story contrasts Henry’s lush, internal fantasy about the game and its players with his dreary, everyday existance. Coover describes the various characters of the game, and then shows us how Henry develops their names, personal histories, and rivalries. Stepping in and out of the fantasy with ease, Henry gets up from his kitchen table to put on coffee, turning back to the packed stands to absorb the cheers and jeers of an anxious crowd. It’s a dizzying peek into the mind of a hardcore escapist.

But even escapists have to go sometime. After a strange (statistically improbable) set of events, the star player of Henry’s favorite team suffers a fatal injury. In the days that follow, Henry must come to terms with “the last inning”. He’s tiring of the game, and this latest turn of events has him ready to throw in the towel.

But then what? Single, 56, an accountant in a fading, stodgy firm – he’s a man with few friends an no other hobbies. If the game comes to an end, what does the proprietor of the Universal Baseball Association have to look forward to?

According to his paper, not much.

Over her on my side of the pages, it looks about the same. Humans – so embarassingly predictable. No wonder he loves his game so much.

I love snail mail! Super hugs to Jurie for the Cat and Girl hoodie, cd and Rockstar stickers (not to be confused with the rockstar referred to in today’s breadcrumb ). A thank-you care package (full of random toys and Japanese stuff) is on the way. Junko – you have a package coming, too!

Other random arrivals: photos from my trip to the hospital last month! Let’s see…. here’s me trying not to laugh as Warren snaps shots. “It’s for your blog!” he joked. Here I am passing out after being shot up with drugs. I remember feeling very happy that I had the tube-cat plush with me – it blocked out the harsh light of the hospital room.

Ok – I have an appointment today with a urologist – gonna turn over my stone and see if this is a dietary thing, hereditary, or what. Wish me luck!!!

Just got back from seeing The Nomi Song – a stirring documentary about the new wave opera singer Klaus Nomi. The film was screened here as part of the Chicago International Film Festival, which Phil has been working hard to organize over the past year.

Director Andrew Horn faced some interesting obstacles when making this film. Nomi died unexpectedly of AIDS at the peak of his career. Footage of his performances is rare, interviews even rarer. His rise to fame in Europe (after a meandering career as a NYC-based performance artist – which cluminated in a SNL appearance where he sang with David Bowie) only complicates matters; many of the central characters had mixed feelings about his choices, the film, and appearing on camera.

The solution? Horn uses pieces of art (constructed for the film) and collages of found footage to round out a series of interviews and archival blowups/treatments. These passages lend the film a brittle, otherworldly feel which, given Nomi’s penchant for strange costumes and elaborate staging, seems fitting.

Especially moving is a tiny replica of Nomi’s aunt’s living room – complete with a miniature version of his aunt (in a shawl and pearls, ready for coffee). Details abound: a photo of Klaus rests on the divan, and the wallpaper contains quotes about his childhood. It is easy to imagine him sitting there politely, in full make-up, sipping and chatting with his auntie in German. A living doll.

The film is study in distance and duality. Nomi himself was extremely private and androgynous – photos and commentary make it clear that there was a thick wall between the performer and the audience… even when he was off stage. He dreamed of singing opera profesionally, but chose a style that distanced him from that possibility. He achieved his goal of fame, but lost many friends in the process. A romantic at heart, he was isolated; casual lovers took the place of a partner (setting the stage for his illness).

And the diesease was yet another barrier. When he became sick (with what was at the time called “gay cancer”), people found it hard to reach out. One by one, they confess to the camera: I wanted to be with him at the end, but I was afraid to touch him. I didn’t know if it was catching. I couldn’t bring myself to visit him. I wish now I had. As one of them goes on say, it seems almost fitting. Nomi’s whole life was a kind of grand opera – and it ended tragically, as operas so often do.

According to Horn, who spoke at the screening, the film (and possibly new concert footage and recordings) will be released later in the year.

of pirates…

I stopped in at the Swatch store, to see about replacing my grey/lemon Presto (which I scratched up pretty bad on a stucco wall after two too many plum sours).

The stores (if you haven’t seen them) are really sharp: it’s easy to see all the merchandise and make a quick decision – but they turn it over pretty frequently, so there’s usually something new to see even if you don’t buy. And they’ve added the Bijoux jewlery line, which is sleek and well-made, for reasonable prices.

Today I passed the jewlelry and went right for the the fall collection. I was immediately drawn to the dark looks in this season’s Originals line – where I found Skulling Time. Not only does it feature a sketchy, spooky, piratey skull: the band is a relief pattern of Jolly Rogers! Harrr!

But right next to it was a the censored watch. Significantly more subtle, with a shimmery gunmetal band and a semi-transparent grey-black housing. I asked to see them both, but even the attendant agreed – the Censor was the better match. Plus – it just seemed… timely.

—

I also purchased the localized version of Katamari. Finally, I understand what the King is saying to the Prince!!! I was giggling throughout the entire first part of the game – with all the Royal We’s and so forth. And how did I get through the tutorial last time w/o noticing that the King is peering down from the top of the practice room? So genius!

The poor Prince – having to endure all that mocking from his dad. “Tiny Prince”, “Inchling Prince”, “Loser Prince”… “Procrastor Prince”!?

Ok, ok! Back to work

Ok, so he didn’t appear to be wired this time, but he still seemed like an asshole. Whining, bullying, stomping around – I find it impossible to watch Bush speak without continually giving my television the finger and swearing like… well…

I found this flag while digging around in the wire post… followed by the phrase “Even Pirates Vote!” – Yar!

Three others:

a) This report on both candidates’ economic proposals, via the Economist…

b) a Popular Science article on hypersonic sound: beaming sound into someone’s head, without the use of an earpiece….

c) Jane’s Photo on a conspiracy website. Scroll about halfway down – is that odd, or what? Paul actually discovered this one.

And speaking of Paul: For those of you in Chicago, interested in questions of media, representation and meaning w/r/t modern communications – check out the lecture series that Paul’s group has put together. What a list!!

As I hinted in my brief photo commentary, there wasn’t really a single, great game showing at TGS this year. Booth babes posed in front of race cars, lights flashed, music boomed, executives spoke. The PSP area was crammed, Square also packed them in. Eh…

But there are a couple of things on the horizon worth mentioning. The graphics of Okami are really great – tho it’s unclear at this point whether the persistance of “belief” (which makes the spirit-protagonist character stronger) will be implemented cleverly, or in an “increment this variable” fashion that leaves you feeling underwhelmed (as some complain is the case with Fable).

Another interesting offering: Project Rub (now apparently called “Feel the Magic: XY-XX” which is just too awesome). Again – not clear how radical the gameplay innovation will be. But hey, those IPod-looking chicks are hot. Who wouldn’t want to rub them? Even if it wasn’t really all that innovative – or even fun?

—

Reading about XY-XX and other upcoming DS releases, I’m psyched. I’m trying to manage my expectations of what the new control screen will do for the games – but it’s hard… especially after seeing so many blah games for the PSP in Tokyo.

It just seems like the DS, with all it’s bangs and whistles, could really revolutionize how we think about handhelds, communication and…. Well, that is, if it sells to the masses. I resist fannishness, try to imagine how “normals” will view the round-ish, toy-like device… but it’s difficult. Almost as difficult as it was to resist manhandling the one I saw on a developer’s desk recently.

Robin Want!!

—

While tracking down some other news, I came across this retrospective piece on System Shock 2… an interesting trip down memory lane. It still gives me a twinge to remember the LG wake, where so many friends (some who I met for the first time at the event) were preparing to leave Boston for who-knows-where. Years later – thier influence is felt on many teams across the globe. And that’s not such a bad thing, really…

But you know…. on GameSpot’s main page, just below the link for the Shock article, there was an ad for Prince of Persia 2. Have you ever noticed how much the the new Prince resembles our friend Garrett? In the ads and trailers for the game, things appear almost eerily similar (especially if you run Photoshop’s “auto-levels” – weird)… from the hooded-grizzled-wanderer-with-one-glowing-eye, to the winding passeges of the village backdrops. A recent magazine cover actually confused me. Was it for press for POP2, or Deadly Shadows?

As they say, it’s sincerest form of flattery. Perhaps even older than thieving itself.

I got the Arcade Fire album about a week ago – shortly after I returned from Japan. And though it came highly recommended, I wasn’t really getting into it. I didn’t have time to listen to it. I was just too busy.

Over the weekend, I made time, and now I can’t *stop* listening to it. When I’m not, the songs play through my head. I slept through my alarm yesterday and had to rush out of the house for a meeting – only realizing halfway to Evanston that I’d left my mp3 player at home. A whole day without the record seemed like a tragedy!

I’ve been on a strange sleep schedule – napping at odd hours, staying up late to write. Last night, as I was getting sleepy, listening to Rebellion, the lyrics took on a whole new significance…

every time you close your eyes (lies, lies!)….
every time you close your eyes (lies, lies!)….

This one goes out to all you insomniacs out there. Keep on fighting the good fight!

—

A few days ago, Mark sent me a link to this awesome image, courtesy of somethingawful.com. I forwarded it to Takahashi-san, with a note that perhaps, someday, games like his would take over the world. This morning, hidden my spam folder, I found his reply and *super awesome prince figure photo*.

You know – I believe he’s going to do it, one prince at a time. SO CUTE!!!

After almost a week of editing, Justin has finally posted a short film he made at TGS, which features yours truly, gazing upon cosplayers. So much color – I forget sometimes how striking the costumes (and contacts) really are!

My 2004 cosplay photos are cataloged, but I’m waiting for some folks to choose from them for publication, so they’re in a kind of limbo. Looking them over, there is definitely a difference in my gaze. This year I focused a lot more on the dynamics between the players themselves, getting shots of them exchanging cards, primping, giggling together and so on. I also got some great shots of cross-gender and cross-generational cosplay. As soon as I get word on the exclusives, I’ll post the rest.

—

I love taking photos, but they are a ton of work. I have about 300 photos from around town as well – these are still sitting on my hard drive, waiting to be sorted. I’ll try to get to them over the weekend, so as to share such wonders as the sock parts shop (buy an ankle, or a toe… or the in-between!) and the “casual tempura” resturant.

In the meantime – check my industry day pix from TGS, which are posted here, with (brief) commentary. Show highlights: the PSP marketing and the Student Games area. Lowlights: concrete floors and waaaay too many RPGs to shake a stick at. Even a spooky stick.

Ok. Gotta run!

I played my first “game” of the Sims 2 yesterday. I came home from the office around 7, started playing around 8 and went to bed at 3:30. By the end, I was exhausted and cramped in the wrist from hours of mousing . Ahh, PC games.

For this test drive, I made two characters: Robin and Doug . I enjoyed the character creation (even if the default men’s shoe options are suuuuuper sucky). I also made several “kids” with our simulated DNA – but none of them were cute enough to keep, and I didn’t want to do the work of raising them. What does that say about me, exactly?

Instead of kids, the Betas have a kick-ass living room set, a huge TV, a game console and a mega-stereo – all very popular at parties. They listen to a lot of salsa and hip-hop. They are currently experiencing some problems with roaches, due to their less than clean houskeeping. But an exterminator is on the way.

Apparently Rob has mastered the art of speed-dating – making his Sims do the deed in about 2 days. It took me about two weeks to get the Betas to fall in love – mostly because Robin likes to throw parties and bring folks home from work – not so conducive to romance. But Doug kept at her, proposed, and was accepted.

Awwww.

Of course this paved the way for you-know-what. They were positively glowing. I maneuvered us upstairs for the big moment… only to find that my condo is too small for whoopie. The nice big bed I’d bought was against a wall on one side – so Doug couldn’t “join” Robin despite the invitations. I’m not positive, but I think he was swearing.

What did the engaged, but thwarted mini-we do when faced with such a catastrophe? Ordered a pizza, and then played some video games!! It was a pizza of necessity, not celebration…. there is no food in the house because they spent all their money on bedroom furniture.

It’s all about your priorities, I guess!

—

Obviously, I can’t afford to play for 8 hours very often – I probably couldn’t afford it even then. In extremely slow moments, or when my brian is truely hurting – I’ve been adventuring in KoL. Man, is it awesome. I’ll be posting a loathing link in the upper right hand corner of the blog – check it out every once and a while to see where I’m at and what I’ve been doing. Today’s limerick is especially appropos. Go Kerry/Edwards!

On Saturday night my friends Jon and Melissa got married – or rather, they threw a big party to celebrate getting married. If you ask me – that’s the only way to do it: have a small ceremony for the family (satisfy everyone’s various dreams/demands about your union on a reasonable budget and scale) and then… throw a huge-ass party.

Which is what they did. And because Jon is a super talented guy, every detail was thoughtfully designed. Invitations were actually tiny zines – printed on lush paper with fancy cutouts. They included a little bit of history about the couple’s first date, maps of the city (for out of town guests), and Jon’s trademark zap! pop! layout and typesetting.

The party itself was at Heaven – a great space with plenty of room for dancing, and a nice open roof for smokers/flaskers. As at most of the parties I’ve attended there, movies were played walls (indoors and outside) – this selection featured Godzilla, the PowerPuff girls, 2001 and This Is Spinal Tap. “Light Italian Fare” rounded out the offerings: pasta, salad, and those deadly garlic potatos from Maggianos. Enough to *kill* an army.

—

But the biggest attraction, for me, was the slew of Florida folks that Jon invited – people I hadn’t seen in more than 10 years. I must admit – I think of myself as a Chicago native. How strange to walk into a familiar hangout (run by friends of an ex) and see girls I worked with on the yearbook, not to mention my first puppy love. I was only there for a few hours – but it was enough to fill my dreams with images from cold storage. Freaky!

It’s funny how little people change. I had a bit of a hard time remembering some names – but most of the faces were surprisingly familiar. Talking with folks – I found that many are on a similarly wandering, exploratory path: working when they need to, but mostly just trying to figure out what to be when they grow up. This comforts me.

One friend (who’d been doing photography the last time I spoke to her) is now pursuing a graduate degree in Anthropology – focusing on how certain coastal fishing communities are effected by the globalization of the fishing industry and distribution of sea rights. She’d spent two years outside of Osaka and another two in Israel. Another gal took a job doing computer work straight out of college, and now telocommutes from home when she isn’t doing 6-month consulting gigs (South America, DC).

The skate rat guys also had some tales: one recently beat cancer, another owned a Mexican resturant for a while before moving to Atlanta where he works outdoors with a landscaping company. One is a wilderness firefighter in Colorado (so buff!), and a couple are – surprise – in IT and other tech-related fields.

And of course there was the old flame. He looks the same despite a slightly rounder belly and a “hairstyle” (when we dated he had a mop, later, a shaved head). But even with the cut (which kind of reminded me of his not-so-great dad), he was a walking blast from the past. That same, wry smile and jokey charm he had in high school. Turns out he’s in SF – has been for over 9 years. Tends bar, is in a band, and still making art. Living the dream – minus the skateboard.

—

I’d be lying if I said it was all peachy. Seeing these people brings back memories – and we experienced some pretty screwed up stuff together. Some of it was the average outsider kid angst and suburban loathing business – but some of it was pretty intense. Jon’s best friend (who dressed as Elvis to MC the party’s small ceremony) is actually the older brother of another beau – the very first boy who ever really noticed me (in gym class, of all places!). Sadly, that boy is no longer with us – and even after all this time, it smarts. I suppose you have to get used to it as you get older – I wonder if it gets any easier?

Chatting with a couple of people, I still found that a slight pause or well-chosen phrase can also really sting. “You know I think of you sometimes. You were always…. so… focused on what you wanted to… do.” They meant well, I’m sure – but it sounded a lot like “You never *could* relax” to me. Another favorite: “I remember hearing or seeing something about your … vacation photos? You have them on the … internet… or … something?”

Ouch!

Luckily, however, such moments were fleeting. Jon and Melissa were both adorable – and their presence really filled the room with joy. They cut the cake to “Streetlight People” and then busted out a bunch of New Wave favorites – I danced till I was dizzy and snapped a few photos. Seth – my kind and patient date – took the black and whites. And with the long, blond hair – I look a lot like I did as a senior! I guess that’s not so bad – as long as I don’t feel like one on the inside!

Best of luck, team MJ! I look forward to the anniversary reunion – 2014!

If you are trying not to procrastinate, by all means, please avoid

• Tumiki Fighters
• N
• Kingdom of Loathing

Otherwise you might end up… well….

*cough*

Ok: Two more photos from Japan – both courtesy of Kim and his sexy new 5 megapixel pocket-camera.

The first is from a shabu-shabu place that Alan took us to last year. It was recently featured in Lost in Translation and therefore much more popular/crowded this trip. Anyhow, we were happily ingesting plate after plate of marbled Kobe beef when Justin returned from the men’s with amazing news. The aging, leather-clad rockers we’d waited behind in the lobby were actually The Scorpions of “Rock You Like A Hurricane” fame. Just a stone’s throw from German hair-metal greatness (table in back, above the horns). Witness my excitement.

Alan played the whole “brush with stardom” really cool (he’s used to rubbing elbows with the rich and famous)… but when faced with the Crunky, he could not hold back. Not only does this photo capture him in a perfect ad-like grin… it crystalizes all that is frightening and endearing about Don Quixote at 2am. The colors, the harsh flourescent lighting, the bounty of goods (spilling into the aisles, a hazard of cheap snacks and branded merchandise)… Truely stunning.

And courtesy of the BBC: an extremely brief intro to Japanese street fashion, reporting on Japan’s hip hop obsession (soooo weird to hear uncensored American rap blaring from the stalls in teeny-bopper store 109!!) and a commentary on the lifestyle choices that are leading (some) young’uns to joy.

Now if they would just listen to the Scorpions….