tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77915222363473937152024-03-05T07:15:08.577-08:00A Compendium of Improbable ObjectsDCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-48509213560572471552014-08-05T07:23:00.000-07:002014-08-05T07:32:59.407-07:00New Writing...Via <a href="http://www.gamasutra.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Gamasutra</span></a>, I published two new articles on game Development in the last 6 months...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.gamasutra.com/blogs/DarbyMcDevitt/20131218/207063/REALITY_BYTES__Pondering_the_Limits_of_Realism.php" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Reality Bytes : Pondering The Limits Of Realism</span></a><br />
A meditation on the pros and cons of video game realism in all its forms, and why games don't need to aspire in that direction to be engaging, emotional, and interesting.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/Digital%20Future,%20Invisible%20Past%20:%20What%20Lives%20On%20When%20A%20Good%20Game%20Dies?" target="_blank"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Digital Future, Invisible Past : What Lives On When A Good Game Dies</span></a><br />
An investigation into the ephemeral nature of video games as a medium, and a novel theory about what our true legacy will be.<br />
<br />
Also, just finished writing a play. Still need a title for it; the old one was stale.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-61051219742852952362014-03-08T22:20:00.000-08:002017-01-05T10:57:02.011-08:00Baudelaire In Translation, Part I<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Two poems by Charles Baudelaire, translated into free verse versions ... originals included below.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">*</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Music</span></i></b></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">So often music transports me like an ocean!<br />Towards my pale star,<br />Beneath a ceiling of mist or in a vast ether,<br />I take to the sea.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">My bosom pushed forward and my lungs inflated<br />Like canvas sails.<br />I ride the backs of amassing waves<br />Hidden by the night.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I feel within me all the vibrating passions<br />Of a trembling vessel;<br />The merciful wind, the tempest and its throes</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">On this open abyss,<br />Cradle me. Otherwise, stillness—a vast mirror<br />Of my despair.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">— <i>Kloé Rahilly & Darby McDevitt</i></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">La Musique</span></b></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">La musique souvent me prend comme une mer!<br />
Vers ma pâle étoile,<br />
Sous un plafond de brume ou dans un vaste éther,<br />
Je mets à la voile;</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">La poitrine en avant et les poumons gonflés<br />
Comme de la toile<br />
J'escalade le dos des flots amoncelés<br />
Que la nuit me voile;</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Je sens vibrer en moi toutes les passions<br />
D'un vaisseau qui souffre;<br />
Le bon vent, la tempête et ses convulsions</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sur l'immense gouffre<br />
Me bercent. D'autres fois, calme plat, grand miroir<br />
De mon désespoir!</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">— <i>Charles Baudelaire</i></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">*</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Joyful Dead</span></b></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">In a greasy soil, brimming with snails<br />I want to dig a cozy bed,<br />Where, at my leisure, I may spread my old bones<br />And sleep in oblivion like a shark undersea.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I hate written wills and I hate all tombs;<br />Rather than ask one tear of the world,<br />Alive, I would sooner invite the crows<br />To drain the blood from my foul carcass.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">O worms! Black companions, deaf and blind,<br />I come to you a free and joyful corpse;<br />Living philosophers, sons of decay,</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Pass through my ruins without remorse!<br />And tell me if there remains any torture<br />for this old stiff, without a soul and dead among the dead.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">— <i>Kloé Rahilly & Darby McDevitt</i></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i></i><b>Le Mort joyeux</b></span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Dans une terre grasse et pleine d'escargots<br />
Je veux creuser moi-même une fosse profonde,<br />
Où je puisse à loisir étaler mes vieux os<br />
Et dormir dans l'oubli comme un requin dans l'onde.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Je hais les testaments et je hais les tombeaux;<br />
Plutôt que d'implorer une larme du monde,<br />
Vivant, j'aimerais mieux inviter les corbeaux<br />
À saigner tous les bouts de ma carcasse immonde.</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Ô vers! noirs compagnons sans oreille et sans yeux,<br />
Voyez venir à vous un mort libre et joyeux;<br />
Philosophes viveurs, fils de la pourriture,</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">À travers ma ruine allez donc sans remords,<br />
Et dites-moi s'il est encor quelque torture<br />
Pour ce vieux corps sans âme et mort parmi les morts!</span></div>
<div style="color: #323333; margin-bottom: 16px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small; letter-spacing: 0px;">— <i>Charles Baudelaire</i></span></div>
DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-21427298938842272882013-11-20T07:44:00.001-08:002013-11-20T07:51:19.712-08:00Short Fiction From Way Back(Note: I wrote this piece over 10 years ago, possibly 15. I stumbled across it last night and it made me smile more than once, so I decided to publish it here and give it a final resting place. Minor amusement, nothing more. -DM)<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Critics are Talking About <i>This Life's Monument</i></span></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
"As majestic and fragile as a hydrogen Zeppelin, this is one story I can guarantee will afflict that small part of your anatomy you call your 'sense of decency' with a ravaging apoplexy. Enter with care; exit enraptured."<br />
-Roddy Rakish, Author of <i>The Chartruse</i><br />
<br />
"A canny look at the building blocks of culture. No stone is left unturned, no brick unmortared, no cornerstone unchristened … no flagstaff unsundered, no window uncracked, no tapestry unhung … no billiard table unbroken, no gas lamp unsnuffed … no rampart unmanned, no head unshaven, no knee unbent … a true delight."<br />
-Garry 'Gristle' MacHugh, Conjuror Laureate<br />
<br />
"Crushed, rebuilt, intensified, illuminated, rarefied - these are the founding artistic principles of This Life's Monument. Extemporaneous, Magical, Fraternal, Wet, Green, Loaded - these are the Adjectives that describe it best. Read it today - this is the injunction I pass on to you."<br />
-Kiki Rote, a New Woman since that day in Fresno<br />
<br />
"Never before in the history of literature has an author conceived a character so vague and indistinct and yet so compelling as Kid Ubiquity; and never before has a protagonist roused such complex reactions and agonies. Kid Ubiquity and his colleagues at the International Tychist League are the secular trinity of decency, shame, and ambition rolled into a single bundle for our investigation."<br />
-Rev. Buck Young<br />
<br />
"A Riot! A Tour De Force! I laughed my ass off and wiped my tears away … crystal tears of limpid bliss… A real treat!"<br />
-Not Her Real Name<br />
<br />
"A … bizarre [story] … I … like[d] ... it."<br />
-Sven, Accounts Manager<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
"It shames me to see a new generation of men and women of Letters who flagrantly parade their artsy intemperance in avenues ill suited to surfeits of personal style. The blurb is no place to be modest or smarmy. That said, I must say add <i>This Life's Monument</i> reminded me very much of a book of my own devising, still forthcoming, called <i>Silicon Alley Snitch On Crack</i>. For that fact alone I am glad."<br />
-Official Arbiter Of All That Is Fragrant; Spokane, WA<br />
<br />
"I read (most of) it and liked (most of) it, etc."<br />
-Thomas Lynchpin, Author of<i> In Vinoland Veritasty</i><br />
<br />
"I thought that Kid Ubiquity's Mother was a very sad character. Furthermore, the Father was just a jerk. Kid U. was like this kid in my social studies class who is a dork but who I should be nicer to. That's what this story was about: Love. Mr. Robinson read this book too fast sometimes though, so I had not time to hear all of it sometimes."<br />
-Alice Seymour, W. H. Harrison Elementary<br />
<br />
"…whereas we see in the previous blurb the tremendous pedagogical potential of a good piece of literature. Thus, on the strength of this and many similar case examples, I have convinced myself, without fear of meaningful reproach from my colleagues, now deceased, that <i>This Life's Monument</i> could, if properly introduced to the general populace, engender no less than a complete and completely non-violent cultural revolution of reinstated moral and ethical proportions. The mythic 'Level Playing Field' of past imaginations can now become a reality. This rising tide will surely raise even the most dingy dinghy. Audio versions should naturally be made available for the illiterate."<br />
-Aeschylus, Alice’s dog<br />
<br />
"This book reminded me of my new Fraud truck. I learned two things in the process of reading it; that I should lose some weight and that you can have low low low APR financing on your 2000 model Fraud Truck if you act today. Come down to Burkett's Fraud in Renton and check out last year's models in peace and quiet. We will not molest you like those other dealers are wont to do. Check us out today."<br />
-Cap’n Creedo of Cap’n Creedo Fraud<br />
<br />
"The Author of This Life's Monument is in serious need of a rubdown. I loosen stiff muscles. Let your tension flow. All the knots, the anxieties, and the momentum of modern life seem to have backed up in the author's psyche as if clogged in a repugnant storm drain. I can show you the pleasure road to freedom from this glut. Just call."<br />
-Iris Pistil, Escorter of Escortees<br />
<br />
“A dash of B.G. with a pinch of J.J. and a dusting of S.B. with a helping of D.B., drained through a cheescloth with L.S.'s famous T.S. printed on the recto and verso, which should clear this piece of gargbage of all charges of plagiarism. Good luck, D.M.”<br />
-Honest Injun<br />
<br />
"I saw you: Me: Goth chick in leotards and vinyl trench - bloodless ivory skin, your careless fantasy, etc. You - brooding, seductive, writerly, author of miniscule opus <i>This Life's Monument</i>. You are worth more than you think, less than you hope. Call me first. SWF, Drink/ND, No STD, HWP, N/K, Horny."<br />
-SWF, Drink/ND, No STD, HWP, N/K, Horny<br />
<br />
"This dim, slim volume - this collection of barely lucid tales - makes a great doorstop or beverage coaster."<br />
(name withheld)<br />
<br />
"If there is one book that should be required reading for the entire human race, This Life's Monument is not it. The appreciation – nay, simply the ingestion - of art should require an investment. This story is a write off."<br />
-Piss Off<br />
<br />
"I understood <i>New Statistical Analytical Methods for Diagnostic Processes, 3rd ED</i>, but I did not understand <i>This Life's Monument</i>. I am not willing to give it another try, unless someone pays me to do so."<br />
-You Heard Me<br />
<br />
"A relevant tract / Though sadly misguided and / cold like fallen snow."<br />
-Ricky Q., Androgyn, Latent Poet, is aware of it.<br />
<br />
"Dear This Life's Monument, What are you, a fucking armchair activist? You think you can solve the world's problems and have a rocking good time doing it? Think again, asshole. How about spending a little time volunteering your heart and hands to worthy causes, like Books to Prisoners, Habitat for Humanity, or Amnesty International instead of theorizing all day, making up silly stories, and masturbating without leaving your desk. Yeah, I read The Blue Stones, fucker. You intellectuals are lazy pieces of shit. And your last album sucked. (signed) PO'd in Ballard"<br />
-PO'd in Ballard, reputation unknown.<br />
<br />
"Verse: C /// D/ am/ G///; Chorus: F/// G/// F/// G//em; Bridge: D/D6/; Lyrics: (verse) I read a little story the other day, yeah, it moved my heart the way this sun moves through the sky (baby), I wouldn't have it any other way, yeah, My love's aflame and you're the reason why (maybe), (Chorus) (Oh oh oh) This Life's Monument (x2), gonna tear you a new mindhole, get you thinking 'out the box'. <i>Repeat, fade</i>."<br />
-Jiggy Fella and The Sickle Spit Six, “Contractual Obligation Song” from their album It Is A Fine Thing To Want A Little Sumptin' Every Now And Then<br />
<br />
"I never meant to stir up so much consternation. I just wanted to set in ink a little idea I had knocking around in my head for a while. Thank you for your kind attention. And to those of you who will never read <i>This Life's Monument</i>, I apologize for my impertinence. I should have been smarter."<br />
-Darby C. McDevitt, Age 27, Author of<i> This Life's Monument</i><br />
<br />
"What pains me most is not Mr. McDevitt's obvious dissimulation and spurious modesty; rather it's the opposite. His heart on the sleeve obviousness and overbearing arrogance really pisses me off. It makes me pine for a book a book full of nothing but dissimulation and spurious modesty."<br />
-Text on the spine of a box of ‘Zippy-Os’<br />
<br />
"Oh please."<br />
-Amanda Hertz, Mr. McDevitt's ex-girlfriend, aged 33 years<br />
<br />
"Hello, um - Richard? - Its Steve - I was hoping you'd be home because, ah, well, I needed to talk to you about the, the, [unintelligible] - sorry, hold on - okay, we need to talk about some scheduling and budgeting conflicts - I'm thinking maybe we need to let a few of our new hires, ah, let them go, because - well, its costing us a lot and we've only got, three - yeah three payable milestones left, and we’re already 3 weeks behind schedule - so - so give me a call at XXX-XXXX. Also, I'm reading this collection of short stories and there's this one called This Life's Monument which is really wacky - It's by this guy named McDonald or something – anyway, I thought I'd bring it up because there's this part where it mentions two guys named Richard and Steve, which - [coughs] excuse me - which I thought was kind of apropos, you know - anyway, I'll be up till eleven or so - talk to you later, man."<br />
-Steve Bankitt, Chief Financial Officer of GeoCom, Inc.<br />
<br />
"To Do:<br />
QFC -5 Roma Tom.<br />
4 Can Soup (chk & veg)<br />
2 Spag. sauce<br />
1 lb. Spag.<br />
Lettuce (romaine?)<br />
Milk<br />
Juice<br />
'This Lifes Mon." by D. McDermitt<br />
‘New Yorker’, ‘Harper’s’, ‘New Woman’<br />
Butter (unsalted)<br />
else?<br />
Pick up Dry Cleaning, 4 pm<br />
Sell used CDs<br />
Book Burning @ first Presb., 8pm/ bring punch"<br />
-Freddie T. Wrinkle, a fella'.<br />
<br />
"3. Some responded favorably to positive comments about their parents: 'Yeah my mom can be cool I guess' (Lisa, Asian, 13); 'I think parents have it tough too sometimes, so yeah, I think they deserve some awards and candy.' (Rene, Af-Am, 11).<br />
4. Some displayed a healthy respect for parental authority: 'If you get your dad mad, he will sometimes just beat you down.' (Richard, Cauc., 13); 'My mom is asleep and she can hold her breath for a really long time. My dad says it’s a world record, because its been 4 years.' (Steve, Latino, 10)'<br />
5. Some were wary of their parent's reading habits: 'Father will often break into tears when he is reading this book. It’s called <i>This Life is Monument</i> I think. He looks so sad and confused and angry, when he does. He should stop reading that book and start loving his family. (Bobbi, Cauc., 12)"<br />
-excerpted from "<i>Observational Dialogues With Prepubescent Melancholic Only-Childs: A Survey</i>", published by the Department of Health Services, University of Washington, 1998.<br />
<br />
"Admonishing an author for defying taboo's is like slapping a dog for sniffing its own crotch … we, the moral center, are obliged to look on with bemused pity and accept the inclinations of damaged beings. I despised this book, yet I understand its necessity."<br />
-Uncle Toby<br />
<br />
"Who is Mother Ubiquity? Why, she is nothing short of the paradigmatic measure of our own souls. She is no less than everything else. She cannot be described or refuted. She is the 46 year old woman we always knew we were, yet wished we could marry. She is a fraudulent electoral process. She is America at war to keep the peace. She is a bogus check written for 3 dollars in an obscure southern county. She is the colors green and grey. What else?"<br />
-The Creature<br />
<br />
“Where was the Father?!?! Doesn’t Kid Ubiquity have a Father?!?! Where was the damn Father? Doesn’t Mother Ubiquity have a husband?!?! Where was the god damned Father?!?! Isn’t this story about a Family?!?! Where was the mother fucking Father?!?!<br />
-Authority, Problems With (p. 37)<br />
<br />
"Note: I wrote this piece over 10 years ago, possibly 15. I stumbled across it last night and it made me smile more than once, so I decided to publish it here and give it a final resting place. Minor amusement, nothing more."<br />
-Darby McDevitt, age 38, author of <i>This Life's Monument</i><br />
<br />
“ * * * ½ (Almost Highly Recommended)”<br />
-D. B. Paratrooper, Book Critic, '<i>Leanin’ Left Monthly'</i><br />
<br />
“ * ½ (Not Really Recommended)”<br />
-G. Q., Book Critic, <i>‘All Right: A Journal of Letters, Responses, and Christ’</i><br />
<br />
“It was okay. But Mr. McD needs to work on his denouement. I’ll see the film.”<br />
-Me TooDCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-9541066876625911232013-01-20T19:43:00.003-08:002013-01-20T19:43:58.823-08:00Music Music MusicA small update to my album <i>Technoir Classics '78 - '86.</i><br />
The whole damn thing is available on Bandcamp:<br />
<br />
<iframe width="300" height="410" style="position: relative; display: block; width: 300px; height: 410px;" src="http://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/album=563931632/size=grande3/bgcol=FFFFFF/linkcol=8913b4/" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0"><a href="http://dcmcdxviii.bandcamp.com/album/technoir-classics-78-86">Technoir Classics '78 - '86 by Autographic</a></iframe>
<br />
Listen here. <a href="http://dcmcdxviii.bandcamp.com/album/technoir-classics-78-86" target="_blank">Or visit the page itself...</a>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-15743453517252584942013-01-20T11:41:00.003-08:002013-01-20T13:54:11.531-08:00Love Love Love Thud of the Old PlungerHeaviness of mind and heart pushing through these battering winter winds. Sometimes feeling thick and syrupy, like the solid swirls in a block of marble, cold and inert, only the illusion of forward movement. Yet still ... the sun is out!<br />
<br />
Today I'm glad I remembered this old poem, tracked it down, and devoured it...<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-size: small;">Cascando</span></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: small;">By Samuel Beckett </span></h2>
<span style="font-size: small;">1</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">why not merely the despaired of</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">occasion of</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">wordshed</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">is it not better abort than be barren</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the hours after you are gone are so leaden</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">they will always start dragging too soon</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">bringing up the bones the old loves</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">sockets filled once with eyes like yours</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">all always is it better too soon than never</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the black want splashing their faces</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">saying again nine days never floated the loved</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">nor nine months</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">nor nine lives</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">2</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">saying again</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">if you do not teach me I shall not learn</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">saying again there is a last</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">even of last times</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">last times of begging</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">last times of loving</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">of knowing not knowing pretending</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">a last even of last times of saying</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">if you do not love me I shall not be loved</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">if I do not love you I shall not love</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">the churn of stale words in the heart again</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">love love love thud of the old plunger</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pestling the unalterable</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">whey of words</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">terrified again</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">of not loving</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">of loving and not you</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">of being loved and not by you</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">of knowing not knowing pretending</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">pretending</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I and all the others that will love you</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">if they love you</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">3</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">unless they love you</span><br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
Best known for his plays, then his novels, Beckett was also a life-long if infrequent scribbler of verse. His earliest poems were baroque pieces of jaunty wordplay and opaque symbolism, thinly veiled attempts to tear Joyce's crowd from his head. But he never quite managed this, being always too clever by half, and never empathetic.<br />
<br />
But as Beckett aged, his poems grew as spare and trim as the rest of his writing. The above poem comes from a period just before his most fruitful. He is learning to dispense with extraneous details and useless allusions, and cut straight to the bleeding heart of the matter.<br />
<br />
It's a great little piece of writing. The sound of an exhausted chest heaving, of a man tired of pretending his unrequited love isn't poisoning him, one breath at a time.<br />
<br />
"<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T</span>he grapples clawing blindly the bed of want..."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T</span>he churn of stale words in the heart again..."</span> </span><br />
<br />
"<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I</span>f you do not teach me I shall not learn..."</span><br />
<br />
I like to think it was this poem that made things like <i>Waiting for Godot, Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable, Happy Days </i>and <i>Company </i>possible. The shape of his sentiment is here, almost fully formed.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-46502318529721493272013-01-08T05:21:00.001-08:002013-01-08T05:22:57.526-08:00Game Theories: Epic FailsI was having a late-night discussion with some designers at work about the nature of Succeeding and Failing in games. The question of the hour was this:<br />
<br />
"In a narrative-driven or narrative-inflected game, what is a player's threshold for tolerating narrative failures with respect to gameplay."<br />
<br />
To illustrate this, consider an exemplary assassination set-up in a typical <i>Assassin's Creed</i> game: You are given a target, and discover multiple approaches to reaching him. After choosing your path, you sneak up on the target and press the final "Attack" button. The assassination animation kicks in ... then cuts to one of the following cinematics:<br />
<br />
1. You plunge your blade into the target's chest, killing him. [Success!]
<br />
<br />
2. You plunge your blade into the target's chest, but the target is wearing an iron vest <i>a la </i>the Man With No Name in "A Fistful of Dollars." Surprise! Your blade breaks. He has tricked you. After you wrestle, your target escapes. [Failure!]
<br />
<br />
3. You slam your fist down, but your target slips to one side at the last moment. The blade misses completely and slams into the ground. Your target rolls away and escapes. [Failure!]
<br />
<br />
Two of these scenarios end in narrative failure, one in success, and yet, in all three the gameplay loop is exactly the same -- the planning, approach, the execution of the attack. In all three cases, the player can be said to have "played the same game."<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a> Now, my colleagues felt that -- of all options -- two is slightly frustrating, but dramatically acceptable, while three is wholly unacceptable. You cannot "force fail" the player without there being some outwardly apparent reason. In option 3, one would assume the man avoided your attack because he is skilled and swift; but this did not satisfy my colleagues.
<br />
<br />
I maintained that this wasn't exactly a force-fail, since the player actually carried out the complete game-play loop required to "win." Yes, the narrative outcome is frustrating, but only in a story sense. And if the story's intent is to frustrate the player (after all, art can and should be provocative sometimes) then this might be a fine way to accomplish it. So I put their aversion to this sort of failure down to a question of taste and tolerance. I could be terribly wrong.<br />
<br />
Admittedly, option 3 is a bummer. But is it inherently worse than option 1, even if it clearly serves the story in some way? Is option 3 not simply an experimental form of narrative -- a deliberately provocative or subversive narrative attached to proven gameplay loops? The question remains open.
<br />
<br />
I suspect a large number of people would still say that option 3 is terrible, even if, in all three cases, there is not a jot of difference in the gameplay. This is the puzzling thing about narrative in games. The context it provides to what you are actually DOING -- killing people rather than pressing X buttons to interact with rectangles -- is very alluring. So despite the player in our example executing the same task in all three cases, he will feel quite differently about them depending on that final cutscene.
<br />
<br />
One extreme variation we agreed was forbidden was the "forced gameplay fail." This could come about by forcing the player into a position where they were made to execute exactly the opposite action they intended at the start of the loop. In such cases, the game IS cheating you by forcing actions you have been deliberately avoiding.
<br />
<br />
So let's say you reach your target, and are unable to actually "lock on" to him. Instead you are forced to get so close that a cutscene automatically triggers. Whether or not you kill the target in the cutscene, it doesn't matter. The gameplay has robbed you of the final decision, the final strike. This is a forced gameplay-fail and such malarky should be avoided at all cost.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-56377768021878064612013-01-06T12:14:00.003-08:002013-01-06T12:20:29.689-08:00Technoir Classics '78 - '86New Music for a New Year!
<p>
<b><a href="https://www.dropbox.com/sh/w2xnilmj3d0jkhi/uNO2ixPnTt#/">Download Autographic's "Technoir Classics" right here.</a></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HHcfDS_ziUVipq4Q1aVodyWUFoUAclV0im5SXUnbMBFI5pNEpF7T5ymw5Wq9l3oY2uE4-6FCL0BMtWjIun7hmyhxEIWc9mnUzLadxUY1zs9Q-e8_pWZcf6VtIQ9OlcWINdpLQ9x7lOQ/s1600/Technoir_Classics_Autographic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HHcfDS_ziUVipq4Q1aVodyWUFoUAclV0im5SXUnbMBFI5pNEpF7T5ymw5Wq9l3oY2uE4-6FCL0BMtWjIun7hmyhxEIWc9mnUzLadxUY1zs9Q-e8_pWZcf6VtIQ9OlcWINdpLQ9x7lOQ/s400/Technoir_Classics_Autographic.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
Some background: I started composing the beats for this album on an MPC-500 back in August of 2010. I was in the process of dismantling my life in Seattle, preparing for a move to New York. Most of the work was done late in the evening, sitting on a mattress on the hardwood floor of a naked room bathed in the light of "Logan's Run" and "Soylent Green" playing on my laptop.
<br />
<br />
Three weeks later I was in Spokane, staying with my parents for a few weeks before heading East. I set up a small studio in their basement and began recording most of the basic backing tracks. But this process only got me about halfway to the finish.
<br />
<br />
Then something unexpected happened: I stumbled into a job in Montreal, just 4 days into my drive to NYC. It's a long story, but it resulted in work on the album being suspended for quite some time. I didn't dive back into recording until after I had finished work on "Assassin's Creed: Revelations", a project that consumed my life for almost a year.
<br />
<br />
At last, by late 2011 I returned to the album, and over the course of 10 months, dedicated a few hours a week to finishing it.
<br />
<br />
So it's done. It's fun. It's lo-fi. And it's a messy tribute to a few of my favorite things: The early 80s hip-hop and Electro scene in NYC, and the Technoir films of the 70s and 80s.<br />
<br />
Enjoy.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-18691697722402854492012-04-02T11:57:00.003-07:002012-04-03T05:09:55.512-07:00A Leonard Cohen Cover<iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F41797478&show_artwork=true"></iframe><br /><br />Here's a cover of Leonard Cohen's fantastic song. I sing, play guitars, and devised some of the swirling atmospherics. Bryant Moore plays drums, bass, and horns. While recording I wanted to see if I could come up with an emotive harmony to accompany the already amazing melody, and I'm pretty happy with what I ended up with -- though I use it sparingly, only at the end of the second verse and chorus.<br /><br />I should note here that I screw up the lyrics in one spot: in the second verse I sing "...you set yourself..." while the original lyric goes "...you fixed yourself..." It's impossible to say why I misremembered this line but the damage to the song is minimal, I think. My addition, while not better, is weirdly ambiguous.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-64824108704460800252012-03-01T20:00:00.017-08:002013-01-08T05:23:32.385-08:00Game Theories: The Whiteboards<span style="font-size: 100%;">Over a year ago I left a nice job at Griptonite Games near Seattle, Washington with a mind to seek my fortunes in the east. My plan was to move to New York City after taking two months off to finish a few lingering personal projects and begin a few more. That almost happened, until life intervened. But that's another story.<br /><br />The day before leaving, I brought my camera into the office to execute pet project that had been simmering in my head for a long time. I wanted to take pictures of my colleagues' whiteboards. Over the course of my many years in the game industry, I had grown fond of the messes that accumulated on the small doodle stations adorning every cubicle in the building. And I mean, every cubicle. Griptonite was as generous with whiteboards as they were with staples. And thank heavens, too, because they always came in handy....</span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemTt1_tPsZ09njTHRtiuiLMyaArQ1QRr6wOgsRJ9Wy_qsSqTv-RQ4S9xmJLkYNo4avXYLudgVgBbtkdgV6SHLobrAigdaLsi4JzyOp6ur7LvnBsKyl0rNYaT0QyAtMO1H0c1g-cNzkZU/s1600/DSC_0008.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715150934992357394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjemTt1_tPsZ09njTHRtiuiLMyaArQ1QRr6wOgsRJ9Wy_qsSqTv-RQ4S9xmJLkYNo4avXYLudgVgBbtkdgV6SHLobrAigdaLsi4JzyOp6ur7LvnBsKyl0rNYaT0QyAtMO1H0c1g-cNzkZU/s400/DSC_0008.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rJXUmn3m3xBo25Y10GMQAWGAl8Pdu_3loVfa6kB075Ji2R4YSGbPrwtN5VavHPn7uQGIUvOCcv8R7s00LpLvqrfEJpPbHTuoT0RMvKNwWacX-21VhRcom4HIXmq3A4W2rLyv5qynjes/s1600/DSC_0014.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715152920519185266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rJXUmn3m3xBo25Y10GMQAWGAl8Pdu_3loVfa6kB075Ji2R4YSGbPrwtN5VavHPn7uQGIUvOCcv8R7s00LpLvqrfEJpPbHTuoT0RMvKNwWacX-21VhRcom4HIXmq3A4W2rLyv5qynjes/s400/DSC_0014.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcb5UFyYgkrHQtt8iOD0qj6nsCljA9fI0yNkSfA-fjuER8S-Fgycv5wPXfL0tGGeINzrdphva_2qve8XeCTPf4CnWhmYaXvqPGO0dI-h1S46MV3dBdJ6i6TyFgT51oeUzC71ea8e-w6L8/s1600/DSC_0007.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715146125057874482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcb5UFyYgkrHQtt8iOD0qj6nsCljA9fI0yNkSfA-fjuER8S-Fgycv5wPXfL0tGGeINzrdphva_2qve8XeCTPf4CnWhmYaXvqPGO0dI-h1S46MV3dBdJ6i6TyFgT51oeUzC71ea8e-w6L8/s400/DSC_0007.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>The fact that nearly <span style="font-style: italic;">everyone</span> had access to a whiteboard is precisely the cause of what I love most about these pictures: the juxtaposed variety of evidence of every discipline in the studio -- programmers and artists, designers and producers -- haphazardly scribbling to make their ideas known, to solidify concepts, or just let off a little steam. The whiteboard empowered everyone.<br />
<br />
It's too obvious to admire the remnants left behind by the clearly talented artists in these pictures, through fun all the same. But what I like best are the wrinkled diagrams and the hastily scratched notes. They are visible evidence of a halfway point in an otherwise inscrutable creative process; these are middles of so many unknowable ideas. Ideas that started in someone's head, leaked out on to a whiteboard in any one of five or six colors, and then perhaps, if it was lucky, eventually made its way into a game that you yourself may have played only last year. Just maybe.<br />
<br />
Click on through to see more. And click on the photos themselves to blow 'em up bigger.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVlX0IlaZsszNHRS_AiHDhgLK2k1yoiMFoz32WAHgfbwJfr4KpvBfQ8gFBj-oK_LWyaHnNipH-Rud_fVoaJ9csEqBh4ZIBZZuLPGo4R4A3Cllq1yrOuO6stElZ0k36kBDh4nBuaDRD9E/s1600/DSC_0027.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715153889898172098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkVlX0IlaZsszNHRS_AiHDhgLK2k1yoiMFoz32WAHgfbwJfr4KpvBfQ8gFBj-oK_LWyaHnNipH-Rud_fVoaJ9csEqBh4ZIBZZuLPGo4R4A3Cllq1yrOuO6stElZ0k36kBDh4nBuaDRD9E/s400/DSC_0027.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOaWbNEv6lde1gbnDfg1dbRsow69C0NnpBljg879r2YSh0guzj4sPx5buy2quLFjc2qkdQPf5V4DAZ2fboHwwk4-A6qqr3IJRd5WGc67OTt5dpYqkUgoKb1x-INiQCljsMmhzMXyZQISo/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715153882160803362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOaWbNEv6lde1gbnDfg1dbRsow69C0NnpBljg879r2YSh0guzj4sPx5buy2quLFjc2qkdQPf5V4DAZ2fboHwwk4-A6qqr3IJRd5WGc67OTt5dpYqkUgoKb1x-INiQCljsMmhzMXyZQISo/s400/DSC_0022.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkd1mjYlRmtK7bkWRIH7fNK9edGp24Vva5ovfDcOlVHGa9eWgA1NTq2e1TpdX_-uDVALXU1d8bD7ExoaLibMJkZ9UdPm_ZSAvTMe4RWK6YLucITFbqsuGPvAe_FOl8CtYr4vFUDT4k1aE/s1600/DSC_0021.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715153871507220802" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkd1mjYlRmtK7bkWRIH7fNK9edGp24Vva5ovfDcOlVHGa9eWgA1NTq2e1TpdX_-uDVALXU1d8bD7ExoaLibMJkZ9UdPm_ZSAvTMe4RWK6YLucITFbqsuGPvAe_FOl8CtYr4vFUDT4k1aE/s400/DSC_0021.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Wg4YDietQgZBPMIRxILMVrHKk1VVrPPgQO2vWezK2JV17ynHFjzc31fh4DJMGPZveS_2RaHMv9AE02zhpN_o9bHbzaHRmlcbw0EriWxMUprWr1qzgjdzCG174One2R8ICRu32KRgFtQ/s1600/DSC_0019.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715153868475910210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Wg4YDietQgZBPMIRxILMVrHKk1VVrPPgQO2vWezK2JV17ynHFjzc31fh4DJMGPZveS_2RaHMv9AE02zhpN_o9bHbzaHRmlcbw0EriWxMUprWr1qzgjdzCG174One2R8ICRu32KRgFtQ/s400/DSC_0019.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zFTeEqbbXXExQzwv9E_dtVnbEW90ApLZrJoX9SVwPtiPpFqZ91tWIyJCJ-06F00Sv5DvH4jQxZm9UmiKgIHhhtti4KG-G-lSW7fyJzfQEw3e_ROeZUgmGiUMFtVMwvEAz23ECv29vSQ/s1600/DSC_0025.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715153897791586258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zFTeEqbbXXExQzwv9E_dtVnbEW90ApLZrJoX9SVwPtiPpFqZ91tWIyJCJ-06F00Sv5DvH4jQxZm9UmiKgIHhhtti4KG-G-lSW7fyJzfQEw3e_ROeZUgmGiUMFtVMwvEAz23ECv29vSQ/s400/DSC_0025.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigB58-8shDnR9lhTFuN1-DLcWRtzktPDXzGmG5Malk3H5sV3XpC2kqXLVrQgahJEO0cET3_rv5pwrjJ02aCJbE5jIfYBz9Wa5VU0tU6ZmZTrPChd_hYtdr4g9pdCxwsz7A5Pyr4oI1Bls/s1600/DSC_0015.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715152933182179026" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigB58-8shDnR9lhTFuN1-DLcWRtzktPDXzGmG5Malk3H5sV3XpC2kqXLVrQgahJEO0cET3_rv5pwrjJ02aCJbE5jIfYBz9Wa5VU0tU6ZmZTrPChd_hYtdr4g9pdCxwsz7A5Pyr4oI1Bls/s400/DSC_0015.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_QZgB2isuc5fvsdNid_IZltoF53kfewXfGjk1wPeSfGNGvM3utPbXpbLsI5PGh5l3dYEKb-Atw5vq4nC1BmMCxgGGhm3_EGgtSuvofUMN5j17fGIM-2BrpABTv2kbZAOQ50cKFKu0uA/s1600/DSC_0013.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715152914162796130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_QZgB2isuc5fvsdNid_IZltoF53kfewXfGjk1wPeSfGNGvM3utPbXpbLsI5PGh5l3dYEKb-Atw5vq4nC1BmMCxgGGhm3_EGgtSuvofUMN5j17fGIM-2BrpABTv2kbZAOQ50cKFKu0uA/s400/DSC_0013.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0APcEqipvXEd4syjci660QvIJ_XfJZRkuZlYHM_zblwjcSPXMOtfc1matfASFA4ErfYNf1sgF1OgbBM2PHmgWRQheXRTPYu0D4hi0r6nL9w1Drt-Lz5mNjG4bIJhTLhP1D-Zb8mmtCM/s1600/DSC_0012.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715152903167204386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0APcEqipvXEd4syjci660QvIJ_XfJZRkuZlYHM_zblwjcSPXMOtfc1matfASFA4ErfYNf1sgF1OgbBM2PHmgWRQheXRTPYu0D4hi0r6nL9w1Drt-Lz5mNjG4bIJhTLhP1D-Zb8mmtCM/s400/DSC_0012.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkRbHDxZX1FeZCwLe8IOozzSn1ju5hViGQ5623Y8oBUcoPKbXIaD4oyHZbsVv9MaqOwFu1FONceC87zjR3B50_v_65iQUEpyp8fs25kdDKBcL4w8bGoGsgRgDGUmVGd_POsP9ic_Lnys/s1600/DSC_0018.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715152942241001394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHkRbHDxZX1FeZCwLe8IOozzSn1ju5hViGQ5623Y8oBUcoPKbXIaD4oyHZbsVv9MaqOwFu1FONceC87zjR3B50_v_65iQUEpyp8fs25kdDKBcL4w8bGoGsgRgDGUmVGd_POsP9ic_Lnys/s400/DSC_0018.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoft5UutNWMEunysvwo8WgDMCwkcOCcAlcljmox7xrWMJ56xxTXT4HW7WM6enT32xKrnoKTvsoqijEwRur91piiSo_K-P2X_R_vFSf6gY3GKdSrXiZvO1gyHyBlHPnqwbM19-Oq5EdtY/s1600/DSC_0025.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715150924765755506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoft5UutNWMEunysvwo8WgDMCwkcOCcAlcljmox7xrWMJ56xxTXT4HW7WM6enT32xKrnoKTvsoqijEwRur91piiSo_K-P2X_R_vFSf6gY3GKdSrXiZvO1gyHyBlHPnqwbM19-Oq5EdtY/s400/DSC_0025.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_fzjvO4fT80vsyeTuA9OTpvtktR8NOeG4IOPobhzVA5X1rRxv6zg_zQADaMi5iGf2-2zg70i7hpBfmBTbJ_pcxwSqKZleTyCwYKs_4jaYsWAPTFXwU_9HBRY2l88dv5363Ux2k-Z-l4/s1600/DSC_0026.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715150917066558178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_fzjvO4fT80vsyeTuA9OTpvtktR8NOeG4IOPobhzVA5X1rRxv6zg_zQADaMi5iGf2-2zg70i7hpBfmBTbJ_pcxwSqKZleTyCwYKs_4jaYsWAPTFXwU_9HBRY2l88dv5363Ux2k-Z-l4/s400/DSC_0026.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfcJeIhlPYvcKTjUdLa_QSmq6bQ9PQNL2lw3-vUaY_zK1fiqYdo0n6X8vxRIT6xu_nq_QxCX_zOacmvcrFm0TEEMyjab-3qPISvLd51Kix7SCtikNTGNKyWcLT2cf3Gnrgf68wIMqw2c/s1600/DSC_0017.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715150908260123554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfcJeIhlPYvcKTjUdLa_QSmq6bQ9PQNL2lw3-vUaY_zK1fiqYdo0n6X8vxRIT6xu_nq_QxCX_zOacmvcrFm0TEEMyjab-3qPISvLd51Kix7SCtikNTGNKyWcLT2cf3Gnrgf68wIMqw2c/s400/DSC_0017.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloBU5e5AJGrSDQVUzinqCQyJePO0XH1PX3UurcNBP0ltvEq3CoSIQmxwy-PYYLx6W_QYoyspVkfAu5q4k-kH9UKt25eqaenwxH8ZA7BhDgBQ0tCe4kxon4Ie0TOGiBAnOxfrv5-B3V0Q/s1600/DSC_0011.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715150940472269714" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloBU5e5AJGrSDQVUzinqCQyJePO0XH1PX3UurcNBP0ltvEq3CoSIQmxwy-PYYLx6W_QYoyspVkfAu5q4k-kH9UKt25eqaenwxH8ZA7BhDgBQ0tCe4kxon4Ie0TOGiBAnOxfrv5-B3V0Q/s400/DSC_0011.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYlQSKAWXXdCZFaWc3FdNmRKFcOksgL7D7noXp-x1iTQSxnSbUmCVtJ8jLfOz10tTfH5_VLqL-gxpGfPHmt4zfgjL1RIy2qS9u1tgo25LjJYufmmKT_QCrZyVUKYR236fGtpFXJsNC3Uc/s1600/DSC_0005.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715146106741373810" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYlQSKAWXXdCZFaWc3FdNmRKFcOksgL7D7noXp-x1iTQSxnSbUmCVtJ8jLfOz10tTfH5_VLqL-gxpGfPHmt4zfgjL1RIy2qS9u1tgo25LjJYufmmKT_QCrZyVUKYR236fGtpFXJsNC3Uc/s400/DSC_0005.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRq6-K2pM_3VLEoSaBpfpykv3lHP75l4En9CaZlTGW-IojUwh-qAC0WbYSxb-VILQPL8NT7vPRqhudbm0KGlJQGmJIK9Z0KX25-hhRYkRLbz12nWfOC6i9Z-s3JXw-0kxR0Nhp4vuuKk/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715146101315459922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnRq6-K2pM_3VLEoSaBpfpykv3lHP75l4En9CaZlTGW-IojUwh-qAC0WbYSxb-VILQPL8NT7vPRqhudbm0KGlJQGmJIK9Z0KX25-hhRYkRLbz12nWfOC6i9Z-s3JXw-0kxR0Nhp4vuuKk/s400/DSC_0003.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIuSIULgCv2qA8v7nidiqluG9dZqEuzAxOUBtTSVdGBd8TAQOn7TvCwKO7xn-T04ZzZYn_ApxFSVAOsV_VLfcJelhhrFmq4FZjFO6Ww9xD59brFTh2n4lDo1OnBW-WJfMyXqzvrXFbfM/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715146096726170226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIuSIULgCv2qA8v7nidiqluG9dZqEuzAxOUBtTSVdGBd8TAQOn7TvCwKO7xn-T04ZzZYn_ApxFSVAOsV_VLfcJelhhrFmq4FZjFO6Ww9xD59brFTh2n4lDo1OnBW-WJfMyXqzvrXFbfM/s400/DSC_0002.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKk8V31h3uQ9JHIpb7xT9Vy_WEVHINYW7ZcJhRTMxXp7GIHb7XooxeQ0AwEo_PG0Hf4SgMvYnwxd3OGTdjzrSIbjYIZUVxhiqsua7RuJW0fUXaSNQ8zOe20OuAy8HJnwk1rshnwGTQas4/s1600/DSC_0001.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715144930621533634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKk8V31h3uQ9JHIpb7xT9Vy_WEVHINYW7ZcJhRTMxXp7GIHb7XooxeQ0AwEo_PG0Hf4SgMvYnwxd3OGTdjzrSIbjYIZUVxhiqsua7RuJW0fUXaSNQ8zOe20OuAy8HJnwk1rshnwGTQas4/s400/DSC_0001.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBonbhWP8e_okvgIJyvQvGhHHTYjsSPmwsTUlEUGJ02k0F-GOB4Jozxh9dqqTVaQ2OG6nD7bcFxtRRHa4IPetmjLMgYG-PSJDb6iDqn0TJbxWB3NSVmeTpeOSaKTKxCvkfWThLqRWrR8I/s1600/DSC_0009.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5715156887582642930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBonbhWP8e_okvgIJyvQvGhHHTYjsSPmwsTUlEUGJ02k0F-GOB4Jozxh9dqqTVaQ2OG6nD7bcFxtRRHa4IPetmjLMgYG-PSJDb6iDqn0TJbxWB3NSVmeTpeOSaKTKxCvkfWThLqRWrR8I/s400/DSC_0009.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-81432067341574560822011-12-10T14:43:00.000-08:002011-12-30T01:09:51.467-08:00Random ThoughtInternet forums are the future of literature.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-17215251490816930982011-10-19T18:33:00.001-07:002011-12-10T14:44:57.758-08:00Assassin's Creed Revelations: A BibliographyIf you happen to enjoy <span style="font-style:italic;">Assassin's Creed Revelations</span> and would like to know more about the era, its people, and the city of Istanbul, these are a few of the books we used to bring our tale to life. Tread heavily, dear adventurer, for history is a muddy, murky place, and rewards only those with long and solid strides.<br /><br />Osman's Dream: The History of the Ottoman Empire, by Caroline Finkel<br /><br />The Ottoman Centuries, by Lord Kinross<br /><br />Istanbul: The Imperial City, by John Freely<br /><br />History of the Ottoman Empire and Turkey, Vol. 1, by Stanford J. Shaw <br /><br />Mission to Constantinople, by Liutprand of Crimona<br /><br />The Turkish Empire: The Sultans, the Territory, and the People, by Rev. T. Milner.<br /><br />History of the Ottoman Empire, by Edward Upham<br /><br />History of the Byzantine Empire, George Finlay<br /><br />The Fourth Part of The World, by Toby Lester<br /><br />DK Eywitness Travel Guide: Istanbul, by Rose Baring<br /><br />Some books from Turkey with loads of pictures that Mustapha brought back from Istanbul<br /><br />Google Images<br /><br />Wikipedia<br /><br />RumorsDCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-68590200258270818972011-07-28T01:31:00.004-07:002012-03-01T22:54:02.643-08:00A Call To ADVENTUREThis is a quick note to say that the book I have been working on for the past five years -- called <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Adventure </span>-- is now FINISHED.<br /><a href="http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/mcdevitt" target="_blank"><br />Buy it here.</a><br /><br />What happens in <span style="font-style: italic;">Adventure</span>?<br /><br />A young boy, fed up with life under the constant scrutiny of his parents, sneaks from his bedroom into the wild and woolly world in search of a life of adventure and intrigue. Wayfaring far and wide, he makes his way to a town named Proscenium--a quiet, mid-sized metropolis build on a cliff at the edge of the known world. What lies beyond that hazy border is anybody's guess ... but our young boy is determined to discover it. A comic picaresque, served up in a surreal cloud of imagination and fading memory, <span style="font-style:italic;">Adventure</span> is both a celebration and a parody of the well-worn coming-of-age novel.<br /><br />Bonus Points: If you see any typos in the manuscript, do let me know. I'll hook you up with a free copy of the book if I manage to made a hardcover version.<br /><br />Extra Bonus Points: If you are a visual artist, and happen to like the book, and would like to contribute visual media to accompany it, please contact me. Eventually I hope to publish <span style="font-style:italic;">Adventure</span> with 20 to 30 illustrations, paintings, collages, etc. included with the text.<br /><br />Triple Bonus - here is the opening paragraph:<br /><br /><blockquote>"I was wide-awake when my adventure began, I hadn’t slept for days. Without saying goodbye, or goodnight, or feeling a twinge of remorse, I set out that first evening finally fearing nothing, emboldened by a hunger for newness. I was a boy still, more or less, and though there weren’t many good reasons to disobey my parents, I did it regardless. I steeled my will and disobeyed them casually, sneaking out into the world well past my bedtime. This wasn’t a rational decision—not in those days, when so much of my comfort was at stake—but it had to be made. Parents are in charge for too long before they give up, and I couldn’t wait the length of my youth for that miracle. It was midnight and my will was strong, and my opportunity ripe. It was time to begin the adventure."</blockquote><br /><br />Thank you for your kind attention. Enjoy.<br /><br />Darby McDevittDCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-31136812732697720262011-07-10T19:17:00.001-07:002012-03-01T22:55:34.163-08:00Professional Tips For Game Writers, Number 1Straight boys, when writing a female character, don't write the woman you think you'd like to date. Write the woman you have already dated. Or your sister. Otherwise, half the planet will just shake their head, and go tsk tsk tsk.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-51502925116161214432011-06-17T00:09:00.000-07:002011-06-17T00:23:44.948-07:00Random Quasi-Informed Thought<span style="font-style:italic;">L.A. Noire</span> seems to contain about as much "Noir" as <span style="font-style:italic;">Troll 2</span> contains trolls.<br /><br />Additionally, among those who have reviewed the game -- positively and negatively -- I haven't found any great pieces written by fans whose familiarity with Film Noir extends past <span style="font-style:italic;">L.A. Confidential</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Chinatown</span>. Not that this is a terrible thing, but it does seem like a wasted opportunity to educate. <br /><br />Folks, for starters:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Out of the Past<br />Kiss Me Deadly<br />Touch Of Evil<br />Criss Cross<br />In A Lonely Place<br />Night and the City<br />Double Indemnity<br />The Big Sleep<br />Murder, My Sweet<br />The Killers</span><br /><br />Back to games, <a href="http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/6625747/view/full/la-noire">this article is great</a>. Not simply as a review, but as a critical evaluation of the pitfalls and possibilities of storytelling through games.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-42958885973502630262011-02-26T19:51:00.000-08:002011-02-26T19:56:02.174-08:00New EverythingIt's been a long time since I posted anything. Not for any good reason, but I have been busy indeed. Moved from Seattle via New York to Montreal to work at Ubisoft Montreal. I'm writing things for them. In due time I'll be able to say what exactly.<br /><br />More later, maybe.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-39258327999214555062010-11-07T14:20:00.001-08:002010-11-07T14:25:10.453-08:00Game Theories: A Practical Guide To Game WritingGamasutra published another article of mine about a month back. In "A Practical Guide to Game Writing" I teach interested, dedicated game developers how to get the most out of their writers. <a href="http://www.gamasutra.com/view/feature/6171/a_practical_guide_to_game_writing.php">Check it out.</a>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-84685313067446259632010-08-06T10:23:00.000-07:002010-08-06T10:30:33.713-07:00Game Theories: The Deaths of Game NarrativeAn article I wrote for Gamasutra is up. Called <a href="http://www.gamasutra.com/view/feature/5952/the_deaths_of_game_narrative.php">"The Deaths of Game Narrative"</a>, it's a whimsical look at death, design, and storytelling in the digital world. An excerpt:<br /><br /><blockquote>It's been quite a year for epic, narrative-driven games -- titles vast in scope, grand in ambition, and gorgeous in execution -- and I have fought my way through a few of the best.<br /><br />In recent months I have transformed into an exiled Florentine nobleman thirsty for vengeance in Renaissance Italy; I masqueraded as a continent-hopping, chiseled chunk of vainglorious derring-do in search of lost treasure; and I traveled the western wilds of the United States as a battle-scarred loner fighting to restore his dignity and return to his family.<br /><br />To the ear of an outsider, this might sound like a pretty diverse scrapbook of experiences, and I'd say this was half right. But there's one element that draws all these titles together under a cozy umbrella. In each game, the protagonist -- my avatar -- is a mass murderer...<br /> </blockquote>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-14854089692880685942010-07-30T13:04:00.001-07:002010-07-30T13:07:49.617-07:00Mark Hollis, Come BackToday, a friend reminded me to take my monthly Mark Hollis. I rarely forget, and fall ill when I do.<br /><br /><object width="395" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/crkXA_aZvdk&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/crkXA_aZvdk&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="395" height="280"></embed></object>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-27760076530681203362010-07-28T17:11:00.001-07:002010-08-02T15:47:34.305-07:00Andy WarholI first began to appreciate Andy Warhol the moment I lost interest in his artwork. The man Andy was the thing to watch. <em>He</em> was the worthwhile object of all inquiry. The milieu he created was his canvas and all the art objects he produced were mere souveniers of a specific node in spacetime. If you didn't buy the t-shirt while you were there, don't bother looking for one now. What else should we think about a man who called his workshop The Factory? Could he have stated his intentions with any more clarity?<br /><br />Yes, Andy's single important contribution to the world was himself. He generated the aura that Walter Benjamin worried art had lost forever in the age of mechanical reproduction. Andy spun magic scenester ju-ju so hard that he fooled people into thinking art production was actually a glamorous endeavor. Imagine! Soon people wanted to try this art thing themselves, but not because they adored the process of making it. Only because they adored themselves, and Andy, and the way it felt to participate without having to labor. <br /><br /><object width="395" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gA4aBvnaTpo&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gA4aBvnaTpo&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="395" height="280"></embed></object><br /><br />It's tempting to watch this and see nothing but a flippant hipster (a flipster!) disavowing any responsibility to indulge in polite conversation with an obtuse press; tempting because it's true, obviously. But it's also safe to take Andy at his word. His methods <em>were</em> easier ... he says exactly same thing about film a few years later: Film cameras are great, he argues, Because you just turn them on and walk away. After a short while, you've got a movie. <br /><br />So while Andy traipses around carving himself out of ethereal clay, the work he sells to keep him afloat us is not a final product in the old sense, nor is he selling the sluggish thrill of "the process" to his admirers. No, he has perfected the intoxicating thrill of the "Have Done". Everyone knows this feeling. Everyone yearns for it at some point. "All writers want to have written" goes the old saying, and Andy offered an analogous experience to all in his orbit: simply by being around him, they had done things. Everyone was a filmmaker, everyone was a painter, everyone was in a band; everyone was everything around Andy Warhol. If he had written a novel, I'm sure he would have charged people for the privilage of looking over his shoulder as he scribbled ... or over the shoulder of whomever was writing it for him. It might even have sounded something like this:<br /><br /><object width="395" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ogPZ5CY9KoM&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ogPZ5CY9KoM&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="395" height="280"></embed></object>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-15102622349020927982010-07-15T13:02:00.000-07:002010-08-02T15:49:23.588-07:00Game Theories: Object InnuendoHere's a small recipe to spice up a dull party:<br /><br /><strong>Rule:</strong> <br />Name three objects found in a grocery or drugstore which, when purchased together, give your cashier the impression that the strangest night of your life is about to commence.<br /><br /><strong>Example:</strong><br />A cucumber, a jar of patroleum jelly, a disposable camera.<br /><br />I codified the rules for this one about 5 years ago and have played it numerous times since. Players typically dive right into the risqué stuff first, but after the first few rounds the combinations tend to get more subtle and strange. Some people even take the shocking step of avoiding sexual innuendo altogether. Weird, right? But it works.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-32587609119349009992010-06-17T16:14:00.000-07:002010-08-02T15:49:51.558-07:00A Film By Any Other Name...<a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/06/my-baby-is-black/58296/">Via</a> Ta-Nehisi Coates, a shock-trailer for a film from the 60s titled "My Baby Is Black!"<p><br /><object width="395" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jy-zVlB4mvA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jy-zVlB4mvA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="395" height="280"></embed></object><p>Originally titled "Les Laches Vivent d'Espoir" (does this translate to "The Fearful Live In Hope"?), "My Baby..." was a French production with a bit more attempted integrity than the American rubric can possibly allow. Having never seen the film, I am unprepared to judge whether or not it has suffered unjustly from this swap, or if it is still a piece of garbage, but the original French title seems to imply some attempt at sensitivity.<br /><br />This sort of targeted rebranding is still quite common, of course, and rarely capricious; there's always a profit motive to these alterations. Catherine Breillat's 2001 film "A Ma Soeur" -- literally "With My Sister" -- was renamed, for our amusment, "Fat Girl". This is a rather blunt take on a quietly disturbing film about the destructive tendancies of male sexual desire on maturing girls. <br /><br />Whenever I hear of this kind of artistic gerrymandering, I can't help but wonder if the people responsible have done so on the basis of a lot of careful scheming or out of sheer fear. Is the potential audience for a film titled "Fat Girl" larger than the audience for "With My Sister"? Are they they completely different audiences, and if so, is one substantially larger than the other? Will the "Fat Girl" hopefuls leave the film disappointed after merely having seen "With My Sister"? Managing expectaions is the name of this ugly game, but perhaps it works to the artist's benefit more often than not.<br /><br />A few nights ago I watched Leos Carax's 1986 film "Mauvais Sang" - "Bad Blood" - and was surprised to find under the film's title-card the subtitle "The Night Is Young". This title appeared nowhere on the DVD case or in any of the menus however - both advertised the original French. But again I was made to wonder, did "Bad Blood" first appear on these shores as "The Night Is Young"? This would be 1986, you see - the middle of the first decade the AIDS epidemic, which the film makes numerous allusions to. Was this the reason behind the change; the fear that the vague reference to "Bad Blood" might transmit the wrong impression. What sort of mind bubbles with this sort of skittishness, I wonder? And can you make a good living this way?DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-65102026591640859512010-06-09T15:05:00.000-07:002010-07-08T17:24:50.125-07:00Musical LiteracyBobby McFerrin coaxes the pentatonic scale out of some rather delighted victims:<br /><br /><object width="395" height="280"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ne6tB2KiZuk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ne6tB2KiZuk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="395" height="280"></embed></object><br /><br />I've had a few casual, barely informed conversations over the years about the idea of "musical literacy", and more specifically regarding the extent of our innate understanding and feeling for musical forms and ideas and their possible origins -- but i've never bothered to follow through and actually read anything extensive on the subject. It's probably time to change this. Should I start with Oliver Sacks? Something else? Maybe I'll watch more Bobby McFerrin videos first.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-52408707771883048372010-06-04T12:01:00.001-07:002010-07-15T13:21:55.302-07:00Game Theories: The Last ExpressI will always be indebted to Jordan Mechner's 1997 game <em>The Last Express</em> for providing me with the first hard evidence that videogames could look and act as seriously as any film or novel. While the game's presentation is rather clunky by today's standards, the art direction, the real-time conceit, and the quality of the writing all deserve a huge measure of admiration.<p>While searching for images of this game to accompany a small article I've been writing about the role of narrative in videogames, I came across Mr. Mechner's Vimeo page. It contains this little gem:<br /><br /><object width="400" height="302"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3089597&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=3089597&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="302"></embed></object><p>Passively watching <em>The Last Express</em> is no substitute for actually playing it, but for posterity's sake this is a nice little memorial to a fantastic and overlooked milestone.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-24279083738548971742010-05-25T10:19:00.000-07:002010-05-25T10:22:21.327-07:00Images: "Seemann..."Dispatch from the previous century:<br /><br /><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11720597&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11720597&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p>DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7791522236347393715.post-55348542477413034732010-05-11T10:35:00.000-07:002010-05-26T13:20:09.514-07:00Henry Thomas Sings the Texas Blues!I'll let this link speak for itself: <a href="http://oldweirdamerica.wordpress.com/2010/04/22/35-old-country-stomp-by-henry-thomas/" target="_blank">Recordings of Henry Thomas singing 19th century folk, blues, ragtime and more.</a><br /><br /><blockquote><em>Born in Big Sandy, Texas in 1874, Henry Thomas was one of the oldest black musician who ever recorded for the phonograph companies of the 1920′s and his music represents a rare opportunity to hear what american black folk music must have sounded like in the last decade of the 19th century.</em><br></blockquote>Download now and enjoy.DCMCDXVIIIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12328034736895565718noreply@blogger.com0