Greg's blog

Hey folks. You probably saw my presentation today in class for my text-based adventure (if you can call it an adventure) 1922. I've attached the Inform file below so you can see how I did things.

Two things asked specifically about in class:

1. Smoking. In Inform, the smoking was written exactly as illustrated below:

2. Ending the game:

Katie blogged a little bit about this, and I wanted to go further in this discussion. We talked a little bit about this in class on Monday as well.

First, let's move through art mediums. Movies are the most expensive art medium (by far) and as consumers, we almost expect advertisements in all movies. I've noticed in recent years Steven Spielberg's knack for throwing advertisements in. If you're watching a science fiction movie, for example, the movie will show tons of advertisements to give you this "Look at advertising in THE FUTURE!" feeling. As an audience member, I feel ok with a few instances of this, because I understand the need for it.  read more »

No, I'm not talking about the A&E Channel. If you habitually watch A&E, I'm sorry.

In class today, we discussed interactive literature, hypertext media, and tried to understand why it never really "took off." It's hard to read a book that wants you to do more than read. I know that sounds silly, but a historical look can only confirm this.

The novel has not changed very much since the times of Jane Austen, Dickens, or Poe. Popular literature is very straightforward, there are a few twists, the characters are round, and the main character undergoes some sort of change by way of overcoming a conflict. The rules are not that hard to follow.

There is literature that attempts to do things otherwise, such as the short stories of Donald Barthelme, Italo Calvino--books that really change the way a person reads. But they are not popular in the least, and frankly, they do not sell. Why do you think there is an ever-shrinking "Fiction - Literature" section at Barnes & Noble? Genre fiction is what sells.  read more »

I discussed in my last post how Doom forces me into a close relationship with it. I feel as if I'm going to Hell, with a chainsaw.

In all my workshop writing classes, we discuss immersion as well, but in a different form. In literature, there are levels of interaction. Think about it: you have first-person narration, sometimes second-person narration (read Lorrie Moore's "Self-Help"), and almost always third-person narration. As first-person, you are the character. Second-person, you are a character interacting with others. (Also, it's important to note the level of immersion with second-person writing. You will not find a novel in second-person. It is too demanding on the reader.)  read more »

It's weird thinking about it, but I've been involved with Doom most of my life. It's always been a loving relationship, though Doom sometimes comes home late from work without giving me a reason as to where he's been.

Seriously though, I wanted to discuss the level of immersion in Doom. In my "Magic Circle," while playing the original Doom on my laptop, I completely ignore all that is around me. My heart races at times, and when the game intentionally tries to scare me, I find myself falling right into it.

When I was much younger, I found a copy of Doom, and it was terrifying, and somehow exhilarating. My mother didn't quite appreciate me renting a game that had me carry around a chainsaw. She also frowned upon the game Quake because it had a nail-gun. (I could be wrong on that, but it was some game with a nail-gun, which is just unnecessary).  read more »

Crawford mentions that fiction is an "untruth that is not a lie." Well, to answer perfectly for all situations: sort of.

Fiction is a lie. But it's a lie without the negative connotations of "lying." Fiction is art, it's entertainment, it's goal is to communicate and evoke emotion. Creative writing students, including me, will tell you that we're all liars. In fact, what makes us good at writing is that we're good liars.

What separates a simple lie, from fiction, is credibility. Dickens describes the disheveled mansion of Miss Haversham in order to lend her credibility. To make her, and the "lie" that he's painting, more believable. Everyone knows the lie: "My dog ate my homework," but if you add certain details, it can sound more realistic. "My dog, I swear he's blind from cataracts and, well--you know--flea bitten old guy, he didn't know the difference..." etc. etc.  read more »

Crawford writes: "Computer games are too trivial, too frivolous to be called art."

This reminded me quickly of what I've read in the realm of criticism, which tries to define abstract concepts, such as "art," "experience," and "emotion." Duchamp's "Fountain" barely seems artistic to some.Duchamp's "Fountain"

I. A. Richards, considered one of the founding fathers of modern criticism, explains that art must communicate. I'm paraphrasing him here, but this same idea is apparent in Crawford, who writes: "Art is something designed to evoke emotion through fantasy." This is exactly what it does. Richards further explains that art communicates, through emotion, an EXPERIENCE. This is the guiding light of art. Now, how well it communicates that experience, and satisfies impulses, determines "good art" from "bad art". I will simply refer to these as "high art" and "low art," respectively.  read more »

Throughout watching the documentary "Helvetica," I could not help but agree with the old man who said that using the Helvetica font is like going to McDonald's because it's convenient. Even if the food is "crap".

Personally, when I look at this font, especially in lower-case, I feel a sense of immaturity. There's something awfully lousy about being completely neutral, completely "inviting". I get the same reaction when I think of the suburbs in "Edward Scissorhands" or when I think of Modern architecture.

I personally love the Modernist art movement in literature, and other fine arts. But Modernist typography reminds me of Modernist architecture. It's simple and soulless. It's the difference between IKEA and Notre Dame. There's no individuality to it.

Here is the architecture of Modernism (Notice how the only interesting thing about it would be the sculptures surrounding it):
modern architecture

The documentary hit this point incredibly well. Typography should be an art form. It should be individual to whatever message is being conveyed.

This is a more in-depth discussion of Richard's topic on stream of consciousness. I really can't wait to talk about Doom. I've been playing it a ton lately. But I digress...

Stream of consciousness is mainly considered a Modernist literary technique. If you've read T.S. Eliot's "Waste Land," written in 1922, you've read stream of consciousness. Stream of consciousness usually is the vessel writers such as James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, and Eliot chose in writing. Joyce is often considered the most stylistic author of the 20th century, and "Ulysses" is the biggest example of stream of consciousness, also written in 1922. The book itself is incredibly hard at times, but entertaining if you really get into it.

This style of writing is considered one of the most difficult because though the thoughts may circumvent a broad range, authors choose every word they write. Good authors, at least. If you look closely at form, paragraphs in stream of consciousness will begin with one concrete action or thought, and then drift further and further to abstract thoughts.  read more »

Alisha brought up a good point in Chatman's discourse regarding voice-over, and I would like to continue the discussion a tad.

As Zach pointed out, Chatman writes: "Too much overt verbal description suggests a lack of faith in the medium." Too much verbal description can suggest a lack of faith in the audience as well. If a character explains a scene through voice-over, and simply highlights what the audience already sees, it implies that the audience is dumb. A good example of this would be the film "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford". Much of the voice-over work in this film adds nothing to the narrative--it only explains what we already know.  read more »

I've never really experience such a distracting game. Sure, there were the occasional video games growing up that try to disorient you; there are levels in Mario (for Nintendo 64) that spin and strobe in order to get you to lose your focus.

"Game, Game, Game, and again Game" is a different sort though. One cannot really play the "game" without getting some interesting messages. Playing as a blinking blue asterisk, one must navigate around abstract clauses, statements from the Bible, and random jargon in order to get to the hallowed door to exit every level. A Dadaist would love this game.  read more »