Chasing Stardust

Caution: Self-indulgence and self-pitying ahead. You have been forewarned.

Ever had the feeling that you’re just chasing something that doesn’t quite exist? Something intangible, that you know you want, but struggle to even describe, let alone put your hands on? And you just know that if you got your hands on it, you’d be that much happier?

I got a new job recently. I’m a primary school teacher – a return to classroom teaching after two years’ break, and a shift from my original profession as secondary school teacher. Now, I like teaching. I’m even good at it. I’ve been told so by many people. But the frustrating thing about teaching – and so many other things – is the other shit you have to put up with at the same time. Behaviour, for example. I lost count of the number of times I had to stop and “give warnings” today simply for kids being stupid, or talking when I’d asked them to listen, or getting up and wandering around the room, or… You get the idea. Kids will be kids, you may say. Well, yes, they will – but it’s frustrating. I remember being a kid and being terrified to step out of line. I was (and still am) a bit of a goody-two-shoes, of course, but you know what? I’d rather be that than a dick.

Then there’s the other stuff. I’m new to primary teaching, so I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed with new things to learn. The year group team that I’ve joined are very supportive, though, which is good – it means I can bug them with questions when I don’t know what something means, or don’t understand a procedure, or, more to the point, haven’t had a procedure explained to me.

Ah, procedures. Close friend of paperwork. Both of them largely pointless in nine situations out of ten. All they have succeeded in doing so far is 1) messing up my desk within five minutes of me taking possession of it 2) overwhelming me with unnecessary paperwork and 3) making me feel inadequate. And I can do without feeling inadequate right now.

Everyone gets the jitters when they start a new job. I’m hoping this feeling of being overwhelmed and unsure of myself passes. I’m still in two minds as to whether I’m doing the right thing. Lots of people have told me that they thought I’d make a good primary school teacher. I agree – at least that I would be good at teaching primary-age children. It’s the other bits that I worry about not being able to hack. I am neither the most assertive person in the world nor the most organised person in the world, so the twin evils of “behaviour management” and paperwork together form a giant super-nemesis for me. It also doesn’t help that previously, having found a job that I genuinely did enjoy, like, even love for a while, it was taken away by an inconsiderate management team who succeeded in destroying my self-confidence by caring more about the bottom line than the welfare of their staff. So a big “fuck you” to them, if you please.

Of course, I have only been working there for three days so far, so it is highly likely that I am being premature in my judgement of myself as borderline-incompetent. That’s that pesky tattered and torn self-confidence talking.

This is the rub though. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do. Actually, that’s not quite accurate. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do that will pay the bills in a reliable manner. There are loads of things that I love doing – things that I’d much rather do than be cooped up in a classroom with thirty kids – but they’re either unpaid or erratic work. Writing, for example. I love writing. I love blogging. I love writing fiction. I love writing about games, and about music. I love writing semi-incoherent rants that people somehow find entertaining while the big vein in my head pops. I love tweeting and commenting on things. I’d love to be able to sit and write all day and be paid for it, but realistically that’s highly unlikely to happen. Of course, a glass-half-empty approach doesn’t get anywhere, but it’s – yes – frustrating. It doesn’t have to stop me enjoying doing it when I have the chance, though – hence this blog, and hence my entry in this year’s NaNoWriMo.

There are so many things I love doing – teaching, music, writing, gaming, podcasting, production, film – so why is it so damn hard to find something to settle on and just enjoy? Why does everything have barriers to entry – and yet more barriers to negotiate once you get inside?

I guess I should be more positive. But I can’t help but think that I’m getting that “I’m nearly 30″ feeling and wondering where on Earth I’m going. One day I might find an answer. Until then, I’m just chasing stardust.

Heartwarming Tale of the Day

Hello! Regular posting will shortly resume. Those of you who know me well will know that I’ve been in the process of finding a new job and preparing for that. That starts on the 2nd of November, excitingly.

I also have tons of things to talk about that have gone on recently, what with some decent new games and all manner of other things, but now’s not the time for it. For now, I just wanted to share a heartwarming story posted on a World of Warcraft forum I frequent that shows that, mercifully, not everyone in the world is a complete douchebag.

Ok so heres the story… I come from an RP realm (let the flames begin) joining a guild that centres itself around RP doesn’t care if you have epics, doesn’t care what level you are. Just so long if you abide by the server rules, and enjoy storytelling etc, that sorta thing, you are welcomed with open arms. (that doesnt mean we all wear robes and try to do impressions of Gandalf)

On Moonglade our guild is somewhat respected for its RP, and being a guild officer, i have to deal with a lot of requests from people to join.

A few months ago i was in STV using the neutral action house, and i recieved a whisper from someone “please cn you help me with some quests” usually i’d just tell people i’m busy, or ignore them, but he actually made the effort to spell the word “please” instead of “plz” or the ever confusing “pl0x”

So off i went, with a lvl 34 Human Warrior, and helped this fella out with a few of his red quests.. We chatted a little whilst we played, and it came to my attention that this wasn’t a very old player, as he kept on having to go “becuase dad neds 2 chek the emall” he also clearly had no idea how to play, kept on pointing at random objects and saying “coooooooooool!!”, and by the state of his outfit, it looked like he hit mach 2 and collided with a Dorthy Perkins store.

Anyhoo.. After a few quests, i really had to go, he was a very polite kid unlike most that play, and actually said “thank you very much” instead of “thx” but then he started asking if he could join my guild.. Now i don’t wanna sound big headed, but that sort of player isn’t suited for an RP guild.. Atleast not the one i’m in.. Its like a fury spec warrior wearing all green items, asking to be main tank in an MC run.. Its just a big no no.

So not to hurt his feelings, i just told him we were full at the moment, he didn’t mind, and bounced off into the sunset, again thanking me.

Over the course of the next few weeks, i would recieve messages from him, just random stuff of his progress, the occasional “ding! lvl 50 ” he wasn’t one of these annoying people that you help once, and then they seem to think you’re some sort of xp vendor for the remainder of there leveling process.

A few days ago i was in SW checking the AH, and some people were flaming some poor guy in the trade channel about selling an item for a high price… Afteri while i realised it was this kid that i helped out so long ago.. I didn’t want to get involved and just let the flaming die down, but these idiots on the AH were just being really nasty to the poor kid, sure i know they probably didn’t know his age, but still, you should be aware of that when playing games like this.

Anyway, a few hours later, i get a message from this kid “i got kicked from my guild ” i tried to cheer him up, but it wasn’t happening.. And to be honest i couldnt be arsed trying, and i was tired and logged off.

So yesterday i log on, and say my usual hellos to everyone, and go to the mailbox.. When i get there, i see this kid sitting next to the mailbox, no guild tag, people bouncing around him having fun.. And theres him, all alone, no-one paying attention to a “noob”.. Now i know human race facial expressions never change, but as far as avatars go, this one looked really depressed.

So i message him asking if hes cool, and he tells me hes thinking about quitting, becuase he gets bullied alot at school, and his ex guild mates all said really horrible things to him, and that he knew some of the kids in reality, becuase they go to his school, and are beggining to bully him in school about how he plays WoW etc. We all remember how it was.. I remember i used to get bullied in school for not having any toys, or having an old version of a toy.. Imagine it now, you get bullied about it at home AND school too.

Now this kid had got himself to lvl 62 under his own steam, where as the kids that were giving him a hard time, were all about level 20 and spent the majority of there time in Goldshire asking people to raid Crossroads.

So what did i do? I took the kid shopping is what i did… Bought him his epic (ground) mount, a load of nice armour off AH, which i made sure was well colour co-ordinated AND gave him very nice stats for his level. Bought him 2 very nice rare axes (fotgotten the name) and got a guild mate to put +15 agility on each one.

I also bought him a host of accessories, fun stuff, like a mana wyrm, somedeviate delights, an Orb of deception.. yunno.. all the “coooooool” stuff.

Then i invited him to an outing to Goldshire with 6 other guild friends, to casually walk past these bullies who kicked him from the guild. I then RPed the role that he was a great warrior, and saved me from some horrific fight etc etc blah blah.. The bullies then started to flame him in general chat about “noob” things hes done, so i told them hes one of the best PVPers i have ever met, and he won his epic mount from a bet, by defeating the most powerful PVP player on our realm (whoever that is…. sorry! hehe).

After a while, these kids started to change there attitude, and actually began to beg for him to rejoin there guild.. But i told him not to.. Instead, i helped him make his own guild, i bought his tabard, helped him with his spelling etc. And also helped him recruit enough members to get his charter registered.

Fast forward to today, and i get a mail from this kid.. Except its not the kid, its his Dad, thanking me.. He said i quote

“Dear Falcore

I want to thank you for helping my son in this game, he’s been so excited for days about the new things you bought him, hes also been having a tough time in school latley, and we agreed we would get him this game as an escape, although latley its turned into nothing more than another source of bullying and abuse.

Thanks to you the little chaps smiling again.

Once again, lots of thanks!”

Now all of this cost me a total of 1600g-ish. Money that i was saving for my epic flying mount… But i tell ya, putting a smile on a bullied kids face like that is worth more than every epic in the game.

Moral of the story? Helping makes you feel happy, flaming just makes you an *!*@*#%.

The Hate List (September 2009)

Hello!

Here’s the official September 2009 edition of Things That Piss Me The Hell Off That I Can’t Do Anything About So Might As Well Ignore Them But Can’t.

Irrational rant and much sarcasm ahead.

In no particular order:

• People who cough, then gob on the floor.
  If I can cough and then either swallow my own phlegm or spit it into a tissue just to maintain some amount of public decorum, you can too. You’re not a pirate. Or a cowboy. You’re an idiot.
• Casual lawbreaking.
  “Ah, it doesn’t matter if I speed/park here/drop this litter/break this thing that doesn’t belong to me/steal this thing/let my dog shit there/threaten someone. Everyone else does it.” That’s right. And that’s why driving means you take your life into your own hands, you can never find a parking space (and when you do, it’s blocked by someone who has parked where they shouldn’t), our streets and parks often look more like rubbish dumps, kids whinge that there’s ‘nothing to do’ because it’s all broken or stolen or covered in dogshit, and people are afraid to step up and stop people from doing these things. Everyone hates the idea of a nanny state (myself included) but by doing all these stupid things you just encourage those in charge to put tighter and tighter controls in place in an attempt to stop you behaving like a self-obsessed bellend.
• Cyclists who don’t understand the Highway Code.
  If you are cycling, you are a road-based vehicle. Granted, a very small one that is mostly person-propelled, but you’re still a vehicle. Don’t swear at me if you come screaming down the pavement and nearly ram into me when there’s a perfectly good road with no people walking down it. Also, red lights mean stop. You massive twat.
• Car drivers who don’t understand the Highway Code.
  Quick recap: Blue sign with white arrow means “one way”. Red sign with white stripe across middle means “don’t go this way”. Stop muddling the two up.
• Lorry drivers who overtake on the motorway.
  You have an acceleration of 0-60 in 3 years. The thing you’re trying to overtake also has the same acceleration and there is a difference of 0.01mph between the two of you. Overtaking it will likely take you a very long time and get you into a position where you’re stuck behind another lorry that is going the same speed as the one you just overtook. Why not – here’s a thought – not bother?
• People who absolutely have to get where they’re going faster than you.
  Subject of the second ever entry on this blog, fact fans. Travelling around London is a sure-fire way to see this. You know the whole point of an escalator is that it’s a moving staircase that you don’t have to walk down, right? So pushing past to get to the bottom two seconds faster than everyone else achieves nothing except annoying the people who are patiently waiting. Also, standing behind someone who has a large suitcase that takes up a large step and tutting isn’t going to make the suitcase magically get small enough for you to get past.
• Mercedes/BMW/Audi drivers. (Except my Dad, who drives a BMW in the most non-BMW-driver way I’ve ever seen.)
  Those flashing orange lights on the side of your car are not “parking lights”. They do not mean you can park anywhere. Similarly, if you are in a traffic jam, weaving between lanes actually slows everything down rather than allowing you to get anywhere faster. Also, if you come up behind me and flash your headlights when I’m driving at the speed limit in the fast lane, overtaking things in the slow lane, I will slow down just to annoy you.
• Fat exhaust pipes on shit cars.
  Your car is loud! It sounds like the exhaust is broken! You’d better get that looked at. In the meantime, why not drive like you think you’re in a Mercedes?
• Using the word “fucking” as punctuation.
  When considering whether it is appropriate to use taboo language in conversation, consider 1) your audience, 2) the context and 3) whether it will help your message to be heard. “Ah went dahn the fahkin’ shops and bought some fahkin’ bread” is an example of the word “fucking” not being used to enhance the sentence in the slightest. “People who do this are fucking idiots” is a good example of using the word “fucking” in one of its primary uses as an intensifier. A “fucking idiot” is more of an idiot than an “idiot”. However, the “fucking shops” are no more or less a shop than the shops. Also, bread.
• T-shirts with slogans about being drunk.
  Oh! You like to drink! You’re so wacky! “Take me drunk, I’m home!” That’s clever! That’s so clever!
• T-shirts with slogans about having a large penis.
  If you need to shout about it, it’s probably not worth shouting about.
• T-shirts with swear words on them.
  I’m not averse to using bad language in a situation where it is appropriate and/or acceptable, but to walk around town where there are often young children and also people who don’t particularly want to see your T-shirt imploring them to “FUCK OFF” present marks you out as being 1) inconsiderate and 2) a massive tool.
• Men who wear too much aftershave.
  If I can still smell you a minute after you’ve walked past me, that’s too much.
• Smokers who smoke underneath “No Smoking” signs.
  Ooh, you big rebel. Get you. Now take your stinking cancer-sticks and shove them up your arse where I can’t smell them but you can feel them. Preferably lit.
• Beauty fascism.
  Eyes age in two ways! (So you must fix them!) Wrinkles appear on your body! (So you must Polyfilla them!) Your teeth are dirty! (So bleach them!) Your skin is pale! (So paint it orange!) Your hair is not quite blonde enough! (So dip it in Domestos until it’s just right!) Your clothes suck! You’re a failure! A FAILURE! WHY DON’T YOU JUST DIE, YOU PATHETIC BAGGY-EYED, PALE-SKINNED FAILY FAILURE FAILINGTON?
• Confused.com’s advertising. (YouTube)
  Are you really expecting us to believe that people voluntarily sat down in front of a webcam and talked about their experiences buying home and/or car insurance so you could put their gurning Everyman mugs all over our TV screens every five seconds? Because I’ve bought both home insurance and car insurance. Both experiences made me want to kill myself. Maybe I should go on cam and say that. Apparently the emo-looking kid in the purple top (“Phil”) is quite well-known on YouTube. Sell-out.
• GoCompare’s advertising. (YouTube)
  No-one sits in a coffee shop saying things like “Car insurance, eh? What can you do?” – even floppy-haired douchebags like the ones in the advert. Also, if a singing twat burst in encouraging me to “Go Compare” I’d tell him to “Go Fuck Yourself” and punch him in the neck.
• Compare the Meerkat. (YouTube)
  Almost funny once. Not funny the five hundredth time. In fact…
• Insurance advertising.
  Just sod off and stop trying to make one of the most boring things in the world look exciting.
• McDonalds’ advertising.
  You have a recognisable jingle. Well done. Would it kill you to put it in the same key as the rest of the music in the advert?
• People who use the word “unfortunately” when they don’t mean it.
  You don’t care that I can’t do that thing I’m trying to do. It’s no skin off your nose. So don’t patronise me by bemoaning my poor fortune.
• Unnecessary layers of management.
  The most extreme example of this I’ve seen came while I was temping for a loss adjustment company. An insurance company hired a firm of solicitors who hired the loss adjusters who hired some surveyors who hired some building contractors who hired some builders who charged the building contractors who charged the surveyors who charged the loss adjusters who charged the solicitors who hired some cost recovery specialists to recover the costs from the insurance company who hired their own cost recovery specialists to recover the fees from the person whose fault it might have been (but they weren’t sure). Unsurprisingly, the whole case (which was incredibly boring, something to do with a little crack in someone’s living room wall which may or may not have had something to do with a tree outside the window) took several years to resolve, by which time the crack had probably gone all the way up the wall and broken the house.
• Spar.
  Why is it I can go into Tesco Express, buy lunch, dinner, toilet roll and a few household essentials and spend approximately £10, while I do the same in your rotten little shop and have to spend £20 for inferior products? Also, one of your cashiers needs to buy some deodorant.
• The X-Factor.
  Simon Cowell was quoted this week (in the Star, admittedly, but I’ll let that pass for the sake of this rant) as saying “The Beatles wouldn’t have won the X-Factor”. Good. That means they actually have a future and won’t ever do a duet with Flo Rida. Speaking of whom…
• Flo Rida.
  You can rap in triplets. Well done. Now try writing your own songs instead of pinching other peoples’. Which reminds me…
• Cover versions that aren’t cover versions.
  Sugababes recently covered Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy”. Badly. Pussycat Dolls recently put out a song which wasn’t “I Will Survive” but inexplicably breaks into it completely incongruously halfway through. Flo Rida… ugh, just make him go away. If you’re going to cover a song, show it some respect and/or creativity.
• Radio 1.
  There are more than ten songs in the world. Some of them aren’t even done by floppy-haired idiots or women with shiny legs. Please play them.
• There/Their/They’re.
  You learned this in primary school. I can still remember it, so why can’t you?
• Your/You’re.
  You also learned this in primary school. I still remember it also.
• Basic punctuation.
  Capital letter at the start of a sentence. Full stop at the end. No need for kisses. “[Anonymous] is pleased today over it really should be better paid for all the hassle going to enjoy a bottle of wine and a good catch up x” is a sentence that makes fairies cry.
• Apostrophes.
  Apostrophes denote possession, a missing letter or being pretentious. (People know what a “bus” is now. We don’t really need to call it a “‘bus” any more. Same for the phone. Or the ‘phone.) “Flower’s for wedding’s” (seen on a road outside Fareham) is not correct. “Please do not use mobile phones or personal stereo’s in this area” (seen on South West Trains) is not only incorrect, it is inconsistent. “All reasonable offer’s will be considered” is similarly not correct. “Pete’s last entry sure was full of vitriol” is correct. “Fish ‘n’ Chips” is correct.
• Facebook games.
  No, I don’t want to join your Mafia or adopt your stupid spastic black sheep that “turned up” on your farm. If it turned up on your farm, you take care of the little bastard.
• Facebook.
  Facebook is full of noise. It’s like trying to be heard while standing in the middle of a ball pit filled with drunken giggling teenagers at the local Happy Eater while a man shouts “MAFIA WARS! FARMVILLE! AAAAAH!” at the top of his voice. (This has now been allayed somewhat with the launch of Facebook Lite, aka We Wish We Were Twitter.) (Additional note: I still like and use Facebook. But it is getting noisy.)

That’s nearly 2,000 words there. I think that’s probably enough for now! If you have any pet peeves of your own you’d like to share, please do make them known in the comments.

If all that depressed you, let Maru cheer you up:

Spam Fiction

If you’ve received any email recently (and if you’re reading this, then let’s face it, you probably have), chances are you’ve received one of those bizarre spam emails that contains three things: 1. a link (which we’re all well-trained and don’t follow, right?) 2. some sort of pornographic exhortation (such as… oh, I’m sure you can imagine one) and 3. an extract of narrative from… somewhere.

I was intrigued by this. Why on Earth are spammers trying to get us to visit a website via the medium of extracts from… what? Books? Who knows. Anyway, having little to no regard for my own sanity, and against the express wishes of my dear friend Mr George Kokoris, I decided to see if pasting them one after another (minus the pornographic exhortations and links, and with some minor text-correction to make some of them a little more readable) created anything meaningful.

Here we go.

The gelsphere sped over one ceiling surface, then streaked down a wall, across the floor and between Erasmus’s legs, then back up again. “Is it possible that you have avoided the subject of religion in your investigations because it is too complex and illogical?”

“Billy!” the cop yelled. A coyote howl rose, wavering and glassy. It was joined by another and another and another.

Either way, it maybe hadn’t been such. a good idea. David pulled a thick ring of keys. out of his pocket and found the one which looked like the one Entragian had used.

He feels it. And when they get there they’ll form. a conga line and sing ‘It’s a Small World After All.

‘Twenty-three. .

‘I said I wouldn’t pack his lunchbox,. but of course I did. He reaches below the pillow Henry is. holding over the thrashing thing’s face.

The laddie-bucks who had come running were,. for the most part, still running. We also know that Russian fighters destroyed. a grayboy ship over Siberia in 1974 .

News & World Report-but that was all. “What a joke!” the rotting thing cried. indignantly.

Had it and then got drinking and. lost track of it again. Across the bottom of Albert Belle’s card. was this: “To David-Keep sluggin’! Albert Belle.

you are wonderfulTransactional fo’ sho’I bought a bunch of cable organizers on sale, but instead of using them properly I just pile them on top of the cablesThis is just the same clips from different angles, but I would really like to see more of thisstevebanfield less functionality, but I like Tweetie on the Mac STUPID STUPID WHO viaI can’t believe how quick I was searching for the nicotine gum this morning

Muhsari haad to prood hiim aagin. “And the docotr diidn’t saay _anything_ abuot Eilot?”

After half an hour of hot pursuit, a bridge technician asked to speak privately with the two Primeros and informed them that their Holtzman shields were in danger of overheating and failing. The protective systems were not meant to be used at such high intensity for long periods of time.

Exhausted from nearly four decades of bloody fighting, the people were delirious at the prospect of reconciliation. They lionized Vidad and his fellow cogitors. They launched exuberant victory parades, imagining how their lives would now be different, never again without the fear of awful machine raids. They desperately wanted to believe in the possibility of a safe future.

“There he is!” Dhartha howled.

After all, we are not flower-merchants or herbalists! Suldrun gazed pensively down the garden and over the sea.

I’ve had an interesting set of experiences. The seasons passed; autumn turned to winter.

No normal man could remain normal under … Whatever its nature, it had failed to protect the hand.

“I invest my greatest hopes in all of you,” she said. “I cannot deny that danger lies ahead. Even if you succeed, you die. And if you fail, you also die – but worse, it will have been to no purpose. I am here to make certain your lives and your deaths are not in vain, that you are instrumental in destroying Omnius and his thinking machine minions.”

Usually they cry and hold out their arms when I leave them. For the death of others was its life.

After the meal the group became restless. And then go to your destiny in your own way.

I want nothing so much as to join him. All transport was at a standstill.

It seems an unimaginative plan. Hold the light; stand yonder, where you can see along the street.

You must still have it with you. He turned desperately to the District Attorney.

Lady Vosse, who stood nearby, grunted. We re going to share hopes and doubts, dangers and victories.

To the dog must now fall the problem of disposing of the pearl. Blow softly, with kind expression-ah!

Whatever might happen would not be to her liking. The Druid to the east extended his oak branch.

Is this not correct, Zar-aides? I fear that I have only five days to live.

Chilling stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. I particularly like the frenzied stream-of-consciousness bit in the middle. But what does it all mean?

Quick! The elixir!

Something Kinda Fishy

Hello! I’m back from a day in London that’s left my feet aching. I really need some new shoes. The revolting sweatiness of my feet has all but destroyed the inner soles of most of my pairs of shoes. Nice. Anyway, sweaty feet and shoes that are falling to bits are not what today’s entry is about.

We went to the London Aquarium, or the London Sea-Life Aquarium to give it its full title. It was Jane’s birthday the other day and she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to come and see the fish. We’d seen some great displays of fish and underwater life at zoos in both Toronto and New York over the last year, and we’d resolved to go and see more things that were a little closer to home. After all, London is a little over an hour’s train journey away, and there’s tons of cool stuff there to see and do, even if you do have to deal with taking your life into your hands every time you cross a London street. That said, it’s no worse than Italian streets, from my limited experience with them. Probably better.

First challenge of the day was, of course, trying to buy a train ticket from the machines at the station. You’d think this would be as easy as selecting “London” as your destination, indicating that yet, you would like to come back as well as go there, and then purchasing your ticket.

No.

Do you want a Standard Day Return? A Super Saver Off-Peak Day Return? A Mega Buster Super-Fantastic Awesome Only Valid For Three Minutes A Day Which You’ve Already Missed Day Return? All of these cost varying amounts of money. If you remember to book in advance they cost different amounts again – considerably less, usually, but that requires pre-planning. Which is, let’s face it, not always on the cards.

Battle with the ticket machine won, we got on the train and headed to Waterloo before walking down to the South Bank to find the Aquarium. For my international readers unfamiliar with London, the South Bank of the River Thames is a pretty vibrant area that always has loads of things going on. There’s a whole bunch of concert halls there which see everything from black tie classical performances to Video Games Live, several museums, lots of places to eat, the London Eye, boat trips, and today there appeared to be some sort of world culture event going on. This was mostly filled with stalls selling food, tat made to look faintly “ethnic” and, bizarrely, what looked like the opportunity to have one’s photo taken with an African man. How odd.

But I digress. The Aquarium beckoned, and Jane had had the foresight to print out some of the 2 for 1 offers on this site, meaning the two of us effectively got to go in for half price. Or only one of us paid. Or however you want to look at it. We went in and immediately discovered that the London Sea-Life Aquarium do not have a very good toilet strategy. There is one toilet by the entrance, along with a sign saying that “The next toilets are 20-30 minutes into your journey” – so naturally, there was a huge queue, even before we’d got in. (Wee-d got in. Do you see what I… oh, never mind.)

The Aquarium itself was great. Plenty of huge fishtanks with lots of interesting fish from all over the world to see, including many from Britain, too, as well as some of the more exotic fish (and other… things) from tropical waters. And, of course, sharks.

I remember someone saying a while back that under the sea is one of the only places on earth where you legitimately get things that you can call “monsters”. And it’s true. There are things down there that would be terrifying to find yourself confronted with. Even the monsters of Lovecraft (themselves from beneath the waves) aren’t that outlandish compared to some of the things that really do exist, particularly in the deep. It’s interesting to see creatures that are just so completely alien in design and function to land-based creatures.

Take a jellyfish, for example. No brain, almost completely seethrough body and four balls that you can see in the middle of its body. Sorry, “gonads”, to use the technical term. (I always find it amusing that “gonads” is a scientific term, particularly in light of this gentleman from British comic history) Weird shit. And certainly not something you’d want to wake up with on your face, for example. And sharks. They have big teeth. Sounds obvious, I know, but it’s not until you see one up close in a big tank with glass windows that you realise quite how vicious those things look.

The other interesting thing I thought about while looking around is how easy it is to look at these creatures and see human characteristics in them. Sharks, for example, look pissed off all the time. Manta rays look like they enjoy flying out and surprising things like ghosts. There were a bunch of fish that looked like they were belming. And, of course, there’s Happy Fish. Now, who knows whether or not these undersea things really are feeling these things that they look like they’re feeling, but it’s certainly fun (or the sign of an overactive imagination!).

The only disappointing thing about the Aquarium was the “Shark Walk”, which is hyped as one of the big attractions there and I was assuming was one of those “glass tunnels” where you walk through the middle of a tank full of sharks. (The promotional picture I have posted at the top of this entry probably went some way to making me think this.) However, what it actually was turned out to be, essentially, the attic of the Aquarium with a glass floor. The sharks were quite a long way below where you stand, and the water was a bit murky. It was very disappointing, but the fact that you could see the same shark tank earlier in the tour of the place with much bigger windows made up for it.

It was a good trip, and I’d recommend it to anyone who, well, likes fish. I believe there’s times when there are proper tours – there was some guy with a mildly annoying voice rabbiting on about sharks as we passed one area – but otherwise you can wander around and read the (relatively simple) information and quizzes scattered around the place. To be honest, it’s quite pleasant just looking at the fish, even if you don’t learn that much.

After the Aquarium, we wandered over to St. James’s Park, which looks just like it does in Project Gotham Racing, only with more people and pelicans in residence. Yes, pelicans. The area in the centre of the park is set aside as a sort of “nature reserve”, with a variety of non-native birds making their home their. There are pelicans, canada geese, other kinds of geese whose name I’ve forgotten and a whole bunch of other things there. Jane freaked out a bit when we noticed there was a pelican on the loose in the main part of the park. It was just wandering around. It wasn’t causing any trouble, but it was amusing to see the people sitting on the grass look around and react with shock, fright or amusement. “OMG WTF PELICANZORZ”, they seemed to say.

OMG WTF PELICANZORZ

Then we had a hot dog in the park, walked back to Waterloo via Trafalgar Square (which is much closer to Waterloo than I realised) and then caught the train home, accompanied by people who don’t know where the volume control on their ringtones are. Now we’re sitting watching The Cube. Well, I’m blogging too. But The Cube is on next to me.

So yes. A nice day. I’d recommend it, as I say, to anyone who likes fish.

Changing Course

Hello everyone and thanks for stopping by, as always!

In an effort to write more on this site, I’ve decided to change tack a little from past entries. This blog started as a purely personal blog and gradually morphed into mostly games-related stuff. And fair enough, it’s a principal hobby of mine. But I have all these unused categories going free at the top of the page so I thought I’d branch out and try to write a bit more on some other topics to give all of you lovely readers the opportunity to get to know me a bit better in some other areas. Plus, you never know, I might even pick up some more readers along the way – this was clearly demonstrated a while back when I reviewed Haunted Stereo live at the Hobbit (cue Pingback on myself… ’cause no-one else ever links to me ) and I met a whole bunch of fine new folks as a result.

So from this week forwards, this blog will be… a blog, as opposed to a games blog. You’ll still find games writing here, of course, but there are plenty of other things I’d like to talk about. My last few video games articles have also been posted over on Bitmob, so do go check me out (and comment!) over there if you like what you see. You’ll also see a couple of my articles on Good Old Games, which should be your first destination for picking up… well, good old games. Check out my articles on Rise of the Triad and Simon the Sorcerer.

Right. On to other matters.

My Dan and Charlie project that I discussed in my last post has been proceeding nicely. It’s been fun to “roleplay” these two characters and imagine the situations they have been getting into and how they interact. In practice, it has also been an interesting experiment in separating out various facets of my own personality into two separate people. Those who know me well will have already spotted this, but I also think it’s a potentially interesting way of telling a story from different perspectives. My research on the subject is admittedly limited, but does anyone know if anything similar has been done before, outside of ARGs such as Perplex City? (Perplex City is, I confess, where I got the idea from in the first place, although those characters’ stories were rather less mundane) I’d be intrigued to see how other people have approached it.

That’s it for now. Like I say, this change in approach is largely an excuse to get me writing more on a broader variety of different topics, so assuming I have a bit of self-discipline about this I’m sure I can find something interesting to say on a semi-regular basis. I hope I don’t disappoint.

Meet Dan and Charlotte

So I’ve been a bit lax on the creative writing front for a while. I thought I’d rectify that with an experimental fiction project I’ve had in mind for some time.

I present to you Daniel Harris and Charlotte Bristow, two twentysomethings who live in the glamorous city of Southampton. Daniel and Charlotte have the same birthday (29th August) and both studied English at the University of Southampton. In fact, they sat next to each other on a number of occasions. But they don’t know each other. They don’t even know the other one exists. Not yet, anyway.

They don’t have a lot in common. Dan is depressed, lonely and increasingly turning to drink. Charlotte is happy, hopeful and uses the word “party” as a verb. However, both of them enjoyed their study of English and are pedantic to a fault, and they do have a few interests in common. Both of them are struggling to work out what to do with their lives now university is over, and are temping to pay the rent.

This project, which I haven’t given a name to yet (working title “Dan and Charlie”) is an exercise in improvisatory blogging. I will be playing the role of both Dan and Charlie and improvising their fictional lives, perhaps with a little fact interspersed here and there for local colour. After all, I too live in Southampton and studied English (along with Music) at the University of Southampton, so after all we have a bit in common… conveniently. It will be an interesting exercise in “method acting” (for want of a better description) for me, and an exercise in self-discovery for Dan and Charlie, who are both new to blogging.

If anyone actually reads the blogs, thinks they’re real people (so no-one who knows me directly, then) and feels the need to comment or interact with Dan and Charlie (who have their own email addresses and eventually will find their way to at least Twitter and possibly other social networking sites if I can be bothered to “network” that much on behalf of both of them), that may well inspire their independent storylines to develop in particular directions. I have a few “events” in mind for the pair of them and, of course, they will come across each other at some point. What happens from there remains to be seen.

I intend to blog on behalf of the pair of them fairly often. It’ll be an interesting exercise in creative characterisation and allow me to keep myself in practice of writing stream-of-consciousness first-person narrative if nothing else – maybe it won’t go anywhere, maybe it’ll develop in interesting and unexpected directions. Who knows? We shall see.

One rule for those of you reading this: don’t let on, at least not on their sites. As far as readers of their sites are concerned, Dan and Charlie are real people, and it’d be cool to have them interacting with strangers and see how that develops their own personal stories. Comments will be moderated and anything “out of character” won’t be approved by either Dan or Charlie.

Well, this will either be an interesting exercise or I’ll end up with Multiple Personality Disorder. We’ll see. I hope you enjoy the mundanity of their everyday lives.

Dear Esther

I remember first hearing about Dear Esther a while back, during one of those interminable “games as art” discussions. It was held up as an example of using one particular genre of gaming (the first-person shooter, in this case Half-Life 2) as an interesting means of storytelling. Half-Life 2 itself is, of course, well-known for integrating storytelling and gameplay together, but Dear Esther set out to be something altogether different. Designer Dan Pinchbeck describes it as a “multimodal, environmental storytelling experiment” which “presents a sparse environment with no embedded agents, relying purely on the player’s engagement with and interpretation of a narrative delivered through semi-randomised audio fragments”. (source)

That’s a very dry description of what this mod is doing, but it’s an accurate one.

Dear Esther places the unnamed player on a seemingly-deserted island, starting on a jetty facing an abandoned house. The beautifully-delivered narration begins immediately, reading from a letter to the titular Esther and gradually developing as the player passes around the island.

The interesting thing about the story is that there are several threads running at once, and the randomised delivery of the audio cues throughout means that after a while, they all begin to blur together until it’s not clear where one story ends and the other begins. Pinchbeck notes that “two plots develop simultaneously: the avatar’s visit to the island following the historical record of a 17th century cartographer, and repressed memories of a car accident”. The way these plots intertwine and seem to share themes and ideas in common, as well as wildly disparate elements too, mean that, in Pinchbeck’s words, “a closed reading, or understanding, of the events is impossible to ever reach.”

In this sense, Dear Esther is a dream come true for people who enjoy finding their own interpretations of games. The mod reminded me a lot of Flower, if not in execution then certainly in atmosphere. Flower makes very little of its story (if indeed there is one) explicit and is very open to wildly different interpretations. One could take it literally or metaphorically – and it is the same with Dear Esther. The game raises unspoken questions about whether or not the island you are walking around is actually real, who the mysterious characters the narrator refers to really are and, of course, who Esther actually is.

Pinchbeck himself was surprised at the positive response to his deliberately open narrative, noting that “the notion of an unfolding mystery that is never solved actually appeals to [players]” and that “the atmosphere and drive to find out more about the story is enough of a pull to get them all the way through the experience”.

It’s true. Dear Esther presents an intriguing mystery that makes it clear from the outset that there are no specific answers, yet there is a clear “goal” for the player to attain. This was achieved through use of the environment combined with the spoken narrative. Although the environment of the game is very “open-plan”, being based on an island, at no point did it become difficult to determine where to go next, as there was always something that “looked interesting” over the next ridge. As the narrative progresses, a huge aerial in the middle of the island becomes visible with a large flashing red light, and the fact that this is almost constantly visible gives the player some indication of 1) where they are going and 2) how much longer they have to go.

Music is also used very effectively throughout. Haunting piano and string themes drift eerily over the speakers as the narrator slowly speaks his lines. As the story builds to something of a climax towards its “conclusion” (for want of a better word) the music becomes thicker, more intense, and with more mysterious, unidentifiable noises creeping into it. It gives a sense of progression in a game which leaves more questions unanswered than answered at the end.

There’s certainly no denying that Dear Esther, like Flower, is an experience that will make you feel something. That “something” will be different to different people, as Pinchbeck notes that:

“…we have been surprised how many players report being scared. Several others describe the experience as eerie, moving and very sad. These last two are emotions that normally fall beyond the affective range of games, especially first-person games.”

Lewis Denby, writing on Rock, Paper, Shotgun, had plenty to say on this subject, and it’s well worth reading his excellent article. One particularly interesting point he had to mention was:

“I love my Marios and what-have-you as much as the next person, but I still feel games have an incredible untapped potential for negative emotions. Some have tried – Braid stands out for having a bloody good go – but we’re still a little too comfortable with enjoying everything we play. Any stretches of sadness in this medium tend to be restricted to self-indulgence or vapid tearjerker fare, and even they invariably make way for happy endings and bunny fluff.”

Dear Esther, he says, is noteworthy for taking players into uncomfortable emotional territory and refusing to give in throughout. The whole experience is infused with a kind of melancholy throughout, and the final moments of the story as it comes to a close without any real “resolution” are heartbreaking.

All this in a barren, empty landscape with no human interaction, no speech besides that of the anonymous narrator, no guns, no white-haired pretty boys, no anime cutscenes – and yet somehow, deprived of all that exterior fluff, Dear Esther manages to present an intriguing story which has compelled more than a few people to play it through several times and develop their own interpretations further – and all this using an engine which is renowned for its fast-action run-and-gun FPS gameplay. It just goes to show what a little bit of creativity can achieve.

Dear Esther can be downloaded here.

Pinchbeck’s notes on the mod can be read here.

Player Character WLTM companion w/personality, GSOH

“Soldiers!” she cries, as we hear the indecipherable radio chatter behind the door to the cellar we are hiding in, then that terrible bleeping that means they’re going to blow the door and come flooding in like they have done so many times before. I push the clip into my machine gun firmly and she does the same. My trigger finger itches.

The door explodes inwards, and a soldier strides in purposefully, his gun ready to fire. Fortunately, we are ready for him, hiding behind a crate. We leap up and unload a hail of bullets into his head and he slumps to the floor, blood splattering the wall behind him.

“Come on,” she says, heading for the door. I follow. Outside there is more radio chatter and more gunfire. There’s lots of them. I worry that we might not make it out of this one alive, despite her remarkable resilience to being shot in the face and my relative fragility. And I’m the one in the Hazard Suit.

“Gordon, look out!” she cries as a grenade flies in through the door. Quick as a flash, I pull out the Zero-Point Energy Field Manipulator, grab the live grenade and fling it back out of the door. It explodes as it lands, sending soldiers flying every way. I look over to her for approval. “Nice shot,” she says with a smile. Then she turns back to the window to clean up the survivors. I do the same.

After the battle, we manage to deactivate the force field that was holding our car captive, allowing us to get on our way. We sprint back to the waiting vehicle, a battered old wreck that will hopefully get us where we want to be. I hop into the car, and she jumps in through the front and lands in her seat. I look over at her before I start the engine, and she smiles and winks at me, a small gesture that means a lot.

Right at that moment, I fell in love with Alyx Vance.

Companions in videogames are nothing new. The earliest RPGs saw the player tooling around town/fantasyland/space with a party of fellow adventurers in tow, but it’s not been until relatively recently that we’ve had a true feeling of “camaraderie” between a game’s protagonist and their companion(s). When it’s done right, though, it adds a huge amount to a game, and even makes the presence of a silent protagonist less jarring.

Take Alyx above, for example, in a scene from Half-Life 2 Episode 2. (Apologies if that constitutes a “spoiler”, by the way.) Her distinctly “human” responses to situations that she and Gordon find themselves in allow the player to engage on a personal level with what is going on without Gordon himself having to say anything. Half-Life is sometimes criticised for its lack of characterisation of Freeman, but it’s safe to say that as Half-Life 2 has developed through the original game and its two Episodes so far, Alyx has very much become a “protagonist by proxy”, coming out with the quips and one-liners that you might hear a typical character in a third-person action game come out with. The fact that she’s not the player character, though, allows her to be used as a sort of “reward mechanic”. Achieve something good and Alyx will praise you, which always feels nice, even if you know it’s scripted in many cases.

Squad-based shooters would be a fine genre to use this kind of approach in, since by their very nature you have constant companionship of at least one other character. So why are these characters so often generic and uninteresting, little more than “Yes sir, open and clear” when there is such scope for characterisation and storytelling?

The best use of a squad in a game to me is in Star Wars: Republic Commando. From the outset of this game, your character and his three squadmates are set up to be unique characters with their own attitudes – peculiar, given that they’re supposed to be clones, but you can suspend your disbelief for that one, I guess. Throughout the game, there is constant radio chatter between the squad members, a good mix of simple “Yes sirs” and commentary on their surroundings. Proof positive that it can be done.

Beyond Good and Evil is another great example. Throughout the game, protagonist Jade is constantly accompanied by at least one companion character, sometimes more than one. As she proceeds through the areas of the game and comes across obstacles, the banter between Jade and this companion again helps the player to feel more like they are part of a “living world” rather than a lifeless avatar simply solving puzzles and fighting monsters. Sometimes, though, this banter is not simply there to provide a hint on how to solve a puzzle – it’s just there as a means to develop the characters. Jade herself is perhaps underdeveloped throughout the course of the game, though the reactions of her companions more than make up for this.

This approach was taken to another level in Uncharted, where both protagonist Nathan Drake and his companions throughout his adventure are well-defined characters with personalities of their own – and, notably, great voice acting. Uncharted is often quoted as an example of what happens when you let your voice actors have more than one take at each line – you get very naturalistic conversations between them that sound like scenes from a decent film rather than a bad late-night porno.

Uncharted takes the approach of Nate and his companion offering “commentary” on what is happening, much as characters in a movie would do. As Nate and Sully run through the jungle at the outset of the game, for example, they are discussing what they think they might find and how they think things will proceed. This adds interest and also adds to the movie-like ambience – when was the last movie you saw that consisted of the protagonist just running and jumping without saying anything for ten, fifteen minutes at a time?

This even continues throughout battle scenes. Get into a shootout and your companion will contribute to the battle rather than being a useless meatshield who causes a “Game Over” if they happen to catch a bullet in the neck. As the battle goes on, Nate and his companion will shout things to one another, and you’ll hear their reactions to things happening. If a grenade lands near Nate or his companion, they’ll react, not only with a hasty “Oh, shit!” but also with some beautifully naturalistic animations – cowering away from the blast, rolling away, scrambling to escape.

This sort of thing is something that we will hopefully see a lot more of in games to come – and I don’t mean in the sense of your squad saying “Eat shit and die!” every time you shoot a bug in the head, I mean in the sense of feeling like you’re “there” with someone else, someone who you’d fight for, someone who you’d die for, someone for whom you wish there was a “hug” button on the keyboard.

Perhaps we’re not up to the level of a fully artificially-intelligent companion character who can accurately respond to absolutely anything we’d care to do, but we’re certainly getting there. Characters are getting more “human” (or perhaps it would be better to say “more natural”) in their responses, and this, in turn, helps to create a greater and greater feeling of immersion in the game’s world.

Rise of the Bizarre

I’d love to have sat in on the design meeting for Apogee Software’s 1995 FPS Rise of the Triad, now available on Good Old Games. In my mind’s eye, it runs something like this:

“So, gentlemen. That Wolfenstein thing did rather well. Let’s do a sequel.”

“Yes! I love Wolfenstein. Who wants a beer?”

(Beer is chugged. Conversation resumes.)

“Right. So how are we going to make this better?”

“Okay. Here’s the deal. Umm… Hitler was actually being controlled by… like… um… some big corporations.”

“Great. Sounds good. How many?”

“Um. Three. Three’s always a good number. Wolfenstein had three episodes. Plus another three.”

“Right! We could call them the Triad.”

“I think that’s been done.”

“Doesn’t matter. Okay, so Hitler was being controlled by the Triad.”

“Yes. I need another beer. It helps me think.”

(More beer is chugged. Conversation resumes.)

“Okay. So, game-wise, what are we going to add?”

“Rocket launchers.”

“More gore. More gore!”

“Dual-wield pistols!”

“Traps! Spiky things! Flame traps!”

“All good suggestions, but… let’s think outside the box a little.”

“Boss?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t use management-speak. It makes you sound like a douche.”

“Sorry. Where were we? Come on. Think bigger.”

(Silence ensues.)

“Nothing? Really? Okay, maybe this will help.” (Produces a bottle of absinthe.)

(Absinthe is chugged, with much teeth-sucking and head-shaking.)

“Right! That should get those creative juices flowing. Okay, let’s try again!”

“Ooo! Ooo! We need jumping.”

“Yes, but not normal jumping, no. We need springboards.”

“Yes! And floating platforms to jump onto. Otherwise there’s no point.”

“Right. And we can call them Gravitational Anomaly Discs.”

“GADs?”

“Yes. And the elevator ones can be called EGADs.”

“Egads! What a fabulous idea.”

“I see you’re getting it. Let’s have another drink.”

(Another shot of absinthe is consumed.)

“Jesus. Maybe… maybe you… maybe we should have a… y’know… God mode.”

“Ishn’t that, ishn’t that… jusht… y’know… an invinsh… invinsh… invuln… can’t die mode?”

“No no nononono, I mean an actual… actual God mode. Where you become God.”

“Oooo! I likesh it. You could get really big.”

“Yesh. And kill… peoplesh by pointing at ‘em. You’sh an angry God.”

(Hysterical laughter.)

“Oooo! And how about… y’know… as a joke… we also put in a… a… Dog mode!”

“What, where you turn into a dog?”

“Yesh. You get *hic* really shmall and bite peoplesh nutsh.”

(Thunderous belch.)

“Ugh. *hic* This is… ’scuse me… *hic* shounding great. You know what? Shall we just ditch the World War II thing?”

“Yeah. Too much research.”

“Let’s have shome mad monksh inshtead.”

“Monksh with ROBOTSH.”

(Fade to black as hysterical laughter continues.)

The alarming thing about Rise of the Triad is that all of the above features were actually included in a game that was originally intended to be a sequel to Wolfenstein 3D. Now, Wolfenstein didn’t take itself too seriously anyway, what with all the zombies, and a very fat Hitler in a mechanized suit wielding two chainguns, but presumably at some point it became apparent to Apogee’s Developers of Incredible Power, the team behind Rise of the Triad, that a World War II setting wasn’t going to cut it. Instead, the game features a very strange setting, with players battling everything from soldiers dressed in what look like World War I uniforms to robots to monks, armed with a selection of weapons ranging from the straightforward (pistol) to messy (bazooka) to bizarre (drunk missile) to outright insane (Excalibat, which is exactly what you think it is). Add in the God/Dog modes, the ability to fly with Mercury mode, the headache-inducing Shrooms mode and you have a game which is clearly designed for fun foremost with the story being cast aside in tatters.

It’s all the better for it. The sheer speed and insanity of Rise of the Triad is one of the game’s best features. The relatively simplistic, boxy level design design based on an evolution of the Wolfenstein 3D engine means that it’s easy to race through relatively mindlessly, or those who prefer a more methodical approach can attempt to solve some of the quasi-platforming environmental puzzles in order to unlock the game’s secrets.

It’s evidence of a simpler time, when games either weren’t capable of telling a decent story, or it was seen as a secondary thing to do. Half-Life this ain’t. Rather, Rise of the Triad represents a time when gameplay was at the forefront, and shareware games were on the cutting-edge of technology. These days, shareware titles are less prominent in their importance for many people, but in the mid-90s when Wolfenstein and Rise of the Triad appeared, shareware developers like ID/iD/id/whatever and Apogee were very much leaders of the pack, pushing the capabilities of the PC to the limit. This was also a time when “shareware episode” meant “complete game in and of itself” - both Wolfenstein and Rise of the Triad’s free shareware episodes featured ten full levels, which were complete experiences in their own right. Rise of the Triad actually went one step further by making its shareware episode a completely different set of levels to those in the full, paid version, meaning those trying out the game and then going on to buy it didn’t have to run through the same levels again. There were no 30-day time limits or crippling of features – if all you wanted to play was those ten levels, so be it. If, however, you wanted more levels and more features (in the case of these games, more enemies, more playable characters and more multiplayer modes) then you shelled out the money to support the game.

Apogee, of course, later became 3D Realms, which begat Duke Nukem 3D and Max Payne. Rise of the Triad does show that it’s worth delving back into a company’s history as you can often found some hidden gems amongst them, however bizarre they may be. There’s one thing you can’t deny about Rise of the Triad, and that is that it’s immensely creative within the limitations of the time, the genre and the medium. Releasing titles as shareware often freed up developers to do what they really wanted to do – and if that was to have the player assault an island full of soldiers, monks and robots while armed with a magic baseball bat and having the occasional ability to turn into a dog, that was up to them. Occasionally these days with indie titles we see glimpses of the same creativity. It’s important to keep that dream alive, otherwise we end up with a hundred and one identikit brown shooters.

Rise of the Triad 2009 on XBLA anyone?