It's been brought to my attention that I have not, in fact, posted to this blog since May of 2009. Which is utterly irrelevant if you think about it, because whether or not I posted to this blog in particular, I have in fact been writing. I really had every intention of posting here, and y'know, it's not like anyone was knocking down my door to let me know that it wasn't being updated, being like, "Where are our updates?" (Also, and not like I have to make excuses, but things have been really busy around here -- like, really busy.)
In fact, if you want to know the truth, I really thought that I was posting to the blog! Yes, that's right! Every day I was working tirelessly to ensure this blog's continued relevance and success, and every day my posting was thwarted. By whom? It isn't clear at this point, and we may never know for sure. But the point is, I'm back, and while some of you may have noticed some "service outages" over the last 11 months, all we can do now is try to move forward.
Showing posts with label rambling thought-noises. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rambling thought-noises. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Prodigal Son Remembers His Blog
Another day, another blog post. I have to apologize if the posts these days seem a bit fluff, but that's the nature of the beast -- when you write as often as I do, it can sometimes feel as though you're forcing volume at the expense of concentration, watering down the sweet nectar of one's thoughts until they seem like so much bargain-brand lemonade mix. Really, though, if anyone is to blame it's you, dear readers, for your voracious appet-
Wait, I'm sorry. What? No, I can't see the timestamp of my last post from here, but what does that matter? Yeah? Yeah, okay, but - alright, hold on. Let me check. BRB.
Wait, I'm sorry. What? No, I can't see the timestamp of my last post from here, but what does that matter? Yeah? Yeah, okay, but - alright, hold on. Let me check. BRB.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A Hail of Bullets
I've got some things I wanted to talk to you about. No, wait, it's nothing like that! Sorry, I didn't mean to make this sound like a break-up conversation. We're not breaking up. Things have been great with you, they really have! I just wanted to bring some stuff to your attention is all. I don't have too too much time to do it, though, so I've resorted to using drive-by bullet points. Hit the dirt!
- John Madden is hanging up the mike. I'm not sure how this affects the business at large, given his perhaps waning relevance. But sports fans will certainly miss him (quote Johnsen, who just found out looking over my shoulder: "Awww, now I hate football"). The guy's a legend. Heck, even I, living on the frozen Isle of Sportlessness, will regret his absence.
- Big Sam is back in town. Boston just got a little drunker.
- In what could be the only argument ever to be made against spam blockers, I was very nearly denied one of the most magical subject lines ever written: "Paris Hilton Pees Like Men"
- The pundits are all abuzz concerning ASU's shafting Obama on an honorary degree. I assume my readers are like-minded souls, and agree with me that this is at least somewhat disgraceful. The best reaction I've read so far comes from Marc Lamont Hill:"Barack Obama holds earned degrees from Columbia and Harvard, published two best-selling books, was the first black editor of Harvard Law Review, became the third black man elected to the Senate since Reconstruction, and, last I checked, was president of the United States. Barring an unexpected attempt to play point guard for the Washington Wizards, I think Obama has pretty much blown his load on the achievement side of things."
- Allow me one serious link (and a work-related plug) before I move onto yet greater depths of geekitude. Helen Benedict, the author of the linked NYT article, is a voice that I feel needs to be heard. She's an observer and critic of the war in Iraq who has written a book for Beacon Press concerning, specifically, the military's systemic misogyny and the horrific treatment of its female soldiers. She follows the stories of five women and their experiences, from enlistment through Iraq and back again. Her work is intelligent and heartbreaking, and, in my eyes, belongs with the likes of Chris Hedges.
- Super geekitude! (Note: Mute before watching, or be subjected to god-awful synth music)
This video might not look like much, until you realize how it was rendered: it's procedurally generated video, meaning your computer's CPU and GPU create what you're seeing on-the-fly. In layman's terms, it is your computer creating art through math, all by itself. The benefits to this mode of production are two-fold: It obviates the armies of artists that are usually required to create the textures that go into digital world-building and it takes virtually no disk space. Do you know how large the file is that rendered that video? 4k. That's about the size of the text document I've just written. Pretty impressive.
- Because Mauro seemed to like the Braid artwork, here's another game that will knock you on your artist's cheeks: Scary Girl. I didn't find it overly entertaining, sadly, but it's incredibly slick and imaginative, full of characters I'd expect to see on Emily's handbag or some such hip thing.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Porch Postin'
Hello Bloggites! Gore-gee-us day outside, so I've taken Matt's laptop (aka "The Red Tigers") out to the porch to soak in the sun and provide weekend coverage of my usual subjects. It's the perfect antidote to a Charlie's Kitchen double-beef and beer hangover.
First, the usual: Videogames. More and more I'm realizing that Blizzard needs to release their next game, be it Starcraft 2 or Diablo 3 (preferably the former). Every game I pick up in the interim feels like digital distraction, a sad and ultimately futile attempt to fill a growing void. I understand that you can't rush the work that Blizzard does; they are the industry leaders for a reason, which is that nothing leaves their offices until you can see your reflection multiplied 58-fold in their product's perfectly polished facets. Still, a man has needs, and to find comfort in other games at this point makes me feel cheap.
On to publishing. You've already heard of Amazon's Kindle, the hugely popular ebook reader. Now, as someone who works in print publishing, I'm obligated to tell you that its development was actually a series of blasphemous rituals, dark rites of sacrifice intended to mock the gods. Purchase one at your soul's peril! As a kid who enjoys reading and thinking about emerging technologies, though, I'm delighted by its features, its energy-efficient screen, and the idea of digital distribution generally. I'm thrilled to think that music, words, images, games and software are on their way to becoming completely virtual; manufacturing itself is a needlessly wasteful practice when you consider that all these things can be reduced to ones and zeroes and reproduced endlessly and transmitted instantaneously. No more fuel wasted in shipping and no more real estate wasted on superfluous storefronts or warehouses. Putting content developers more directly in touch with consumers seems like a slam-dunk.
From a pragmatic consumer's perspective, though, I have to ask: Really, why do you need a Kindle? The parallels between iTunes and ebooks are false. People can actually use a device that holds 1,500 songs, because variety is important to the enjoyment of that medium. But 1,500 books? Who can possibly utilize that volume? The ability to purchase singles for 99 cents was another incredible boon to digital distribution of music - why force people to pay $14.00 for a CD that only has 3 worthwhile tracks on it? Books are meant to be consumed in whole, though, i.e. most people probably aren't interested in picking up just the foreword to The Bros Karamazov. And despite the total elimination of manufacturing and distribution costs, publishers don't intend to drastically reduce prices on ebooks over a typical paperback - the standard price right now hovers at about $10.00, so it'll be a long time before you're able to recoup that $359 entry fee to Kindle ownership (although I'm sure this price will drop in the near future). Frankly, I don't get it. But then again, as one of our vendor reps told us recently, it doesn't matter; Amazon has more money than God. If they will it to, it will succeed.
In other news, Madonna got shot down trying to adopt a child in Africa. Celebrity news isn't the sort of thing I usually devote brainpower to, but in this case the debate is actually pretty fascinating. It's like one of those giant balls of rubber bands, where each loop is a distinct, emotionally charged issue, pulled tight around the knotted whole; a band for racism, one for sexism, one here for fears of lingering imperialism, another for socioeconomic distrust and animosity. Pretty much everyone has a reason to feel uncomfortable when talking about it. Which isn't to say she's in the wrong; all indications thus far have been that she's a good mother, and able to provide a nurturing environment for her adopted children. In a sense, the bottom line really ought to be what's best for the kids, and since the number of orphaned children world-wide far outstrips the supply of capable adults willing to adopt, one would think it's a no-brainer: Let her adopt. But there's something about the situation that leaves me feeling uneasy, a subtext to the story that doesn't sit right. We don't often have to talk about the legacy of race and imperialism here in the Northeast United States, so it's hard to verbalize these concerns. Put bluntly though, you have to worry whenever rich, white celebrities decide to save Africa from itself. That's the concern. That she's used her privilege to grease the wheels and skirt local adoption laws is disconcerting. That she is, in a sense, benefiting from their poverty is also disconcerting. Again, I'm not planting my feet on one side or the other of the issue. I'm just slightly intrigued by how uncomfortable the whole thing makes me.
First, the usual: Videogames. More and more I'm realizing that Blizzard needs to release their next game, be it Starcraft 2 or Diablo 3 (preferably the former). Every game I pick up in the interim feels like digital distraction, a sad and ultimately futile attempt to fill a growing void. I understand that you can't rush the work that Blizzard does; they are the industry leaders for a reason, which is that nothing leaves their offices until you can see your reflection multiplied 58-fold in their product's perfectly polished facets. Still, a man has needs, and to find comfort in other games at this point makes me feel cheap.
On to publishing. You've already heard of Amazon's Kindle, the hugely popular ebook reader. Now, as someone who works in print publishing, I'm obligated to tell you that its development was actually a series of blasphemous rituals, dark rites of sacrifice intended to mock the gods. Purchase one at your soul's peril! As a kid who enjoys reading and thinking about emerging technologies, though, I'm delighted by its features, its energy-efficient screen, and the idea of digital distribution generally. I'm thrilled to think that music, words, images, games and software are on their way to becoming completely virtual; manufacturing itself is a needlessly wasteful practice when you consider that all these things can be reduced to ones and zeroes and reproduced endlessly and transmitted instantaneously. No more fuel wasted in shipping and no more real estate wasted on superfluous storefronts or warehouses. Putting content developers more directly in touch with consumers seems like a slam-dunk.
From a pragmatic consumer's perspective, though, I have to ask: Really, why do you need a Kindle? The parallels between iTunes and ebooks are false. People can actually use a device that holds 1,500 songs, because variety is important to the enjoyment of that medium. But 1,500 books? Who can possibly utilize that volume? The ability to purchase singles for 99 cents was another incredible boon to digital distribution of music - why force people to pay $14.00 for a CD that only has 3 worthwhile tracks on it? Books are meant to be consumed in whole, though, i.e. most people probably aren't interested in picking up just the foreword to The Bros Karamazov. And despite the total elimination of manufacturing and distribution costs, publishers don't intend to drastically reduce prices on ebooks over a typical paperback - the standard price right now hovers at about $10.00, so it'll be a long time before you're able to recoup that $359 entry fee to Kindle ownership (although I'm sure this price will drop in the near future). Frankly, I don't get it. But then again, as one of our vendor reps told us recently, it doesn't matter; Amazon has more money than God. If they will it to, it will succeed.
In other news, Madonna got shot down trying to adopt a child in Africa. Celebrity news isn't the sort of thing I usually devote brainpower to, but in this case the debate is actually pretty fascinating. It's like one of those giant balls of rubber bands, where each loop is a distinct, emotionally charged issue, pulled tight around the knotted whole; a band for racism, one for sexism, one here for fears of lingering imperialism, another for socioeconomic distrust and animosity. Pretty much everyone has a reason to feel uncomfortable when talking about it. Which isn't to say she's in the wrong; all indications thus far have been that she's a good mother, and able to provide a nurturing environment for her adopted children. In a sense, the bottom line really ought to be what's best for the kids, and since the number of orphaned children world-wide far outstrips the supply of capable adults willing to adopt, one would think it's a no-brainer: Let her adopt. But there's something about the situation that leaves me feeling uneasy, a subtext to the story that doesn't sit right. We don't often have to talk about the legacy of race and imperialism here in the Northeast United States, so it's hard to verbalize these concerns. Put bluntly though, you have to worry whenever rich, white celebrities decide to save Africa from itself. That's the concern. That she's used her privilege to grease the wheels and skirt local adoption laws is disconcerting. That she is, in a sense, benefiting from their poverty is also disconcerting. Again, I'm not planting my feet on one side or the other of the issue. I'm just slightly intrigued by how uncomfortable the whole thing makes me.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Dubious Conclusions
I don't intend to insult your intelligence (because I'm sure you've pieced the puzzle together at this point), but I want to be absolutely clear on this point: I am a geek. Always have been. Never shrank from the label, never apologized. I suppose I did make some effort to prove I was "one of the good ones," though. You know, the sort with a pinch of humor, a dash of social skills, perhaps even a sprinkle of boyish charm — certainly not the type who would maintain a level 44 druid in World of Warcraft. Certainly not! Why, it would be absurd to think that, even now, I can hear the wind whisper the name "Willowthorpe."
Utter nonsense!
These days, obviously, geek is in. Frat boys play Halo. Liz Lemon charms in her thick-framed glasses while cracking Star Wars jokes. Comic book adaptations dominate the box office. The dam has broken; a subculture has gone viral.
I'm thrilled, I suppose. Finally, the gilded Age of the Nerd has come! And yet, I find myself ruminating on my youth, wondering... did I do enough? I wonder, were there Dungeons I was meant to scour, Dragons I could have battled? Missed opportunities. These were depths that went unplumbed due in part to the social stigma, I'm sure, but also because I frankly didn't need to immerse myself in that kind of fantasy, becoming unglued from reality and spiraling down into a solipsistic realm of imagined heroism and idealized identity. Again, missed opportunities.
The world may have accepted geek into its heart, but not that kind of geek, so I have to admit that the illicit nerdiness of D&D is tantalizing; there's a slightly gluttonous urge to throw caution and, indeed, reputation to the wind, and throw myself full-force into the creation of alternate worlds and epic histories. My sword arm aches.
Perhaps we should ease into it, though. Dust has settled across my Magic: The Gathering cards, but they retain the Old Power. We'll start there, and see where it takes us. I'll let you know if this flight of fancy evolves into a yet greater embarrassment.
Utter nonsense!
These days, obviously, geek is in. Frat boys play Halo. Liz Lemon charms in her thick-framed glasses while cracking Star Wars jokes. Comic book adaptations dominate the box office. The dam has broken; a subculture has gone viral.
I'm thrilled, I suppose. Finally, the gilded Age of the Nerd has come! And yet, I find myself ruminating on my youth, wondering... did I do enough? I wonder, were there Dungeons I was meant to scour, Dragons I could have battled? Missed opportunities. These were depths that went unplumbed due in part to the social stigma, I'm sure, but also because I frankly didn't need to immerse myself in that kind of fantasy, becoming unglued from reality and spiraling down into a solipsistic realm of imagined heroism and idealized identity. Again, missed opportunities.
The world may have accepted geek into its heart, but not that kind of geek, so I have to admit that the illicit nerdiness of D&D is tantalizing; there's a slightly gluttonous urge to throw caution and, indeed, reputation to the wind, and throw myself full-force into the creation of alternate worlds and epic histories. My sword arm aches.
Perhaps we should ease into it, though. Dust has settled across my Magic: The Gathering cards, but they retain the Old Power. We'll start there, and see where it takes us. I'll let you know if this flight of fancy evolves into a yet greater embarrassment.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Just me and the world.
It took awhile for me to realize the full suite of services Google had available even after I had signed up for Gmail, which was my initial entry-point. Next it was Google Calendar, then Google Docs, Google Alerts and, finally, Google Reader.
(Clearly I'm late to the party on RSS feeds, but please, humor me for a moment. If you're feeling generous, perhaps humor me for the entire post.)
RSS is really an astounding way to keep abreast (heh, abreast) of information of all sorts. I've got my major news outlets, my Deal Alerts (in case, for some reason, I develop disposable income), enthusiast websites, my favorite blogs... one would think it would be an information overload. And in a way it is; there's no way you could ever read all of this material and still find time to bathe in the morning. The beauty, then, is how this information is summarized and displayed in snippets of text, a sea of fortune cookie messages for you to browse and cherry-pick.
I'm giving this more thought than I might normally because I went to an MIT museum event that was centered around social networking and the increasing rapidity with which information technology is created and assimilated into the culture; unfortunately, what I walked away with was a sense of unease more than anything else. There's something kind of scary about consuming media at that rate; whenever I load up Reader I get a sense of being Ozymandias, watching the world on his wall. Admit this: Eminently skimmable and completely customizable, feed readers are clearly the direction that technology and society are headed, in terms of how we digest information. It's not beyond the realm of possibility to think that in 20 years the DSM won't even recognize ADD as a disorder; instead, constant, thought-obliterating multi-tasking and info-skimming will be cultural survival skills. Our kids will grow up hearing voices, not because they're schizophrenic, but because they're constantly plugged into the rolling, shouting, voice-aggregate of the web (which I'm now contributing to with this blog! Oh noes, the caucophany!)
Alarmist, I know. But you have to wonder how things will turn out as information technology propels us towards post-history. I will say this, though: Whatever else may terrify and bewilder my 85-year-old future self, I'm going to rock the videogames. Silver lining, people!
(Clearly I'm late to the party on RSS feeds, but please, humor me for a moment. If you're feeling generous, perhaps humor me for the entire post.)
RSS is really an astounding way to keep abreast (heh, abreast) of information of all sorts. I've got my major news outlets, my Deal Alerts (in case, for some reason, I develop disposable income), enthusiast websites, my favorite blogs... one would think it would be an information overload. And in a way it is; there's no way you could ever read all of this material and still find time to bathe in the morning. The beauty, then, is how this information is summarized and displayed in snippets of text, a sea of fortune cookie messages for you to browse and cherry-pick.
I'm giving this more thought than I might normally because I went to an MIT museum event that was centered around social networking and the increasing rapidity with which information technology is created and assimilated into the culture; unfortunately, what I walked away with was a sense of unease more than anything else. There's something kind of scary about consuming media at that rate; whenever I load up Reader I get a sense of being Ozymandias, watching the world on his wall. Admit this: Eminently skimmable and completely customizable, feed readers are clearly the direction that technology and society are headed, in terms of how we digest information. It's not beyond the realm of possibility to think that in 20 years the DSM won't even recognize ADD as a disorder; instead, constant, thought-obliterating multi-tasking and info-skimming will be cultural survival skills. Our kids will grow up hearing voices, not because they're schizophrenic, but because they're constantly plugged into the rolling, shouting, voice-aggregate of the web (which I'm now contributing to with this blog! Oh noes, the caucophany!)
Alarmist, I know. But you have to wonder how things will turn out as information technology propels us towards post-history. I will say this, though: Whatever else may terrify and bewilder my 85-year-old future self, I'm going to rock the videogames. Silver lining, people!
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