SOFA

A new plan of attack involves more shorter posts, so that there aren’t months without anything. I stayed away from that here before because I keep really short thoughts to Facebook status updates (would be Twitters if I had any friends on Twitter, but I don’t), but there’s a place between rambling essays and one sentence thoughts that I hope I can use to good effect in the future. In the meantime, a few quick shots:

• Pushing Daisies be dead. Terrible, horrible, depressing, expected. On the very minor positive side, Bryan Fuller may well end up running Heroes and perhaps save it from the abysmal joke it’s become. (During Heroes’ second season, the first time I watched the show as it aired, I repeatedly took it to task for ugly sexism until I eventually concluded it was just lazy writing, not actual misogyny, and gave up. This is still the case, and still one of the few things I actively despise about the show. Please save it, Bryan Fuller. Make it whimsy and fun!)
• Far Cry 2 is a great game, but I’ve barely played it (or any other games) since I started Letters from Africa. As a result, I haven’t updated that particular project since then. I hope to get around to it eventually, but at this point I kind of just want to play the game. I also bought Overlord during its 75% price reduction on Steam and played it for an hour or two. It’s cute.
• I’m a terrible DM. Not really, of course, but not a very good one, anyway. I don’t intend to continue the campaign log, although I do intend to keep the wiki updated with shorter summaries and to post some thoughts on DM-ing (and how much I suck at it). Seriously, it’s hard (especially when the online campaign I’m playing in is so well-designed. Here’s to you, stabs!) I almost want to start something new next semester (with a month of preparation over break), but I think the players would prefer to continue, because they don’t have as much of a problem with what I do as I do (and that’s what’s important, anyway)–and there are still some (hopefully) really interesting moments to get to.
• Quantum of Solace is a conundrum to me. I’m planning on writing some more thorough thoughts (and I’ve thought a lot about what those will be) but I’m waiting until I probably see it again this weekend.

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An experiment in narrative

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lettersfromafrica/

What’s at the convergence of video games, social commentary, and hyperconnectivity? Here’s one suggestion, perhaps. Hopefully it becomes interesting.

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On Company Time

Black screen, white text. Four numbers, separated by colons, the farthest right decreasing steadily. It was easy to understand: days, hours, minutes, seconds.

“Where was this?” asked Will.

The countdown had six days left.

David nodded at the screen, his eyes unmoving. “Just an IP address, no domain. But it’s been posted everywhere.”

“Viral. Less is more, the allure of mystery. It’s a marketing gimmick. Anybody tracked down the source yet?”

“Yeah, it’s coming from an ISP out of West Virginia.”

West Virginia? “They have computers in West Virginia?”

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Time

Note: I used to call this stuff “hastily written shitty fiction”. It’s officially lost the label, but it’s still hastily written, and as for the other part, well, I offer no guarantees.

Dim columns of light hovered over the black streets. Empty. The patrol officer leaned back against the hard leather chair and tapped the gas pedal, one hand lazily holding the wheel. He glanced at the clock again. Forty-five minutes until the end of his shift, patroling perfect suburbia. No crimes here, and certainly none at night. It was like in that movie his kids loved, Home Alone–any criminal worth a damn strikes during the day. Not that those guys were criminals worth a damn, but–“Damn.”

He sat up and grabbed the radio. “Officer Dunn,” he reported. “Runner on King. Standby.” He watched the figure as he sped up the patrol car. Tall, bulky, sweatshirt and sweats. Hood up. Maybe just a guy working off a bad date, or with a taste for the late night. Maybe. He flicked on his police lights once but left the siren alone. The figure slowed and turned.

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