More4 launched a few weeks ago, and already it's become a major part of my TV-watching habits. Well, less than I'd probably like. My girlfriend doesn't think Jon Stewart is particularly funny (and, Crossfire appearance aside, I tend to agree with her) so we tend to avoid that.
But the most surprising thing has been a massive addiction to Grand Designs. In just a couple of weeks, that show has become such a massive part of my TV viewing habits, I turn it on even if I'm in the middle of doing something else like cooking dinner.
I've thought long and hard about this. I think there are a couple of things going on here. First, obviously, is the actual building. Nine times out of ten, the people being showcased are the kinds of insufferable assholes that most likely had no other choice than to strike out on their own because no-one wanted these cunts for neighbours.
This works for me because I like shouting at the TV. And these episodes give me plenty of opportunities to turn the air blue from the amount of obscenities I'm hurling at these people with more money than taste. For example, Grand Designs Abroad recently a couple who built a god-awful wooden house in France because this the husband really wanted to become a writer and the only thing stopping him was the lack of a badly-designed house in the middle of a French valley. That episode gave me lots to shout about.
But it's not always like this. As I said, this is only nine times out of ten. The other time is typically a really heartwarming, reassuring story about someone who really is chasing down their dream. Like the one last week of a guy who worked in a forest in England and spent ten years living in a leaky caravan while waiting for planning permission to build an organic house in the forest. The end result was something so pretty and beautiful that it absolutely brought a tear to my eye. That he built it all by himself, right down to the carving of the 16,000 wooden slates only added to the beauty of this episode.
But there's another reason. And I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I think I'm developing a bit of a hetero crush on the presenter, Kevin McCloud. Don't get me wrong - this isn't a major thing. Certainly not like my hetero crush on Peter Gallagher (more specifically: Peter Gallagher's eyebrows) or my full-on hetero boner for Noah Wyle. No, no. This is much simpler - I just like his little soliloquies. These are perfectly judged breaks from the chaos of the actual home-building, providing just the right balance of caution and hope.
I was thinking of dressing as Kevin McCloud for Halloween (other ideas included: Hellboy, Arthur Dent, Biff Tannen). There wouldn't have to be much to the costume, but I would occasionally step aside and offer my own soliloquies about the party, pausing occasionally for emotional effect.
"People... Are the life and soul of every party... And this party certainly has people... But are they they right people? ... And will it be enough?"
Shadow of the Colossus is the sequel to Ico, one of the most incredible games I've ever played. Ever. I can't call Ico underrated, because everyone who played it agrees that it was, indeed, one of the best games they'd ever played. Ever. Instead, it suffered from woeful under-exposure and an apathetic market. Incredible word of mouth and a dedicated fanbase mean that pre-owned copies of Ico swap hands for approximately EUR50 on eBay. It still ranks as the only game I've ever played through more than three times.
And to say that I've been looking forward to its sequel would be an understatement. I've been poring over every video, awe-struck by the scale and enormity of the promise. [ has only made matters worse. From the review:
The game is being released today (October 18th 2005) in the US. Checking out when I can expect to get my grubby little paws on my own, European copy...
(Author's own emphasis)
That's two thousand and six. Might as well be two thousand and fifty. And this is why gaming in Europe sucks: all the localisation that needs to be done - manuals, box art, voices, interface - multiplied the 6 or so languages that Europe requires, means that we don't usually get our games until much, much later than our American cousins. In some cases, like Animal Crossing, this can mean that we don't to play the game for over a year and a half after its original release (even though there are typically perfectly good PAL releases in English for the Australian market).
Our office is reasonably thin, but quite long. It's also broken up into three areas
The developer room is, obviously, where most of the action happens. It's got an existing wireless connection, but since our office is so long, its range doesn't quite extend to the front office. It would be nice if the people in the front office could also get access to the wireless network, since most of those people use laptops anyway. And since we're kitting out the building, why not give the board room its own wireless access point too?
I didn't think it would be unreasonable to assume that there existed a wireless access point that contained two "remote" APs, that weren't actually APs at all, but simply extended the range of the main Access Point. This would mean that someone could connect in the developer room, walk the length of the building and enter the board room (where most of our meetings, both internal and external) are held, without having to disconnect and reconnect. Surely this would be a fairly common request?
Apparently not. I spoke to our supplier about this and he told me he never heard of such a solution. He said that most companies just make do with the disconnect - move - reconnect scenario.
There must be something out there like this. Has anyone heard of anything like it?
In the 18-odd hours between coming home from TechCamp and parking my bike in our building's underground parking area and stepping out again to cycle into town, someone had managed to break into the underground parking area and run off with approximately five bikes (I'm guessing five because there were five mangled locks left where our bikes had been.)
I'm still pretty furious about the whole thing. But I can't tell if I'm more furious at the guy (or girl!) who stole my bike, or our management company for recognising that there was a huge problem with theft and vandalism in our parking area and yet doing absolutely nothing to remedy the situation.
On Saturday, I jetted across to the Northside Civic Centre for the inaugural TechCamp. I gave a talk on "Getting Things Done" and moderated a discussion about "Using technology to improve our lives."
So how did it go?
I thought my talk on Getting Things Done went okay, in spite of being time-limited to just giving a really brief introduction to the topic. The discussion didn't go so well. I'd put this down to the fact that halfway through the thing, my mind started wandering down the more philosophical road of "What actually counts as an improvement, and what's merely a convenience?" and just wouldn't get back on-topic. Dammit.
The other talks were good. Tom Raftery's discussion about blogs and marketing was quite interesting and eye-opening, even if I did come out with less of a clear idea of what "blogging" is all about than when I went in.
What went well?
Well, the casual, laid-back nature was nice. And it was really good to put a face (and a voice!) to many of the blogs I'd been reading. And some of the talks were really very interesting. The venue, in spite of its awkward location, was well-fitted out.
How could it have been better?
Well, one of the things that I thought that made (Foo|Bar)Camp so compelling was the participatory nature of the things. There didn't seem to be as much of that at this one - although the talks were generally quite open and relaxed, it seemed to be pretty one way. Perhaps a communal project for the next one?
In the end, I think it was definitely worth getting up at 7.30 on a Saturday morning to cycle the 10-odd kilometers to get to. And a rollicking good start to something that I hope will continue for quite a while.
A good movie will bring you inside of itself just by the sheer brilliance of the director/writer/production staff, but in the future, you will physically be inside the experience, which will surround you top, bottom, on all sides... I've invented it, but because patent is pending, I can't discuss it right now.
Positioning itself as a 'true' marriage of narrative and interactivity, and promising a different experience each time it's played, Fahrenheit has a lot to live up to. It's a shame then that the game comes off something more like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" for the 21st century, except perhaps slightly clunkier.
Early on, the game seems to deliver on many of its promises. The initial flurry of interactivity appears impressive and leaves the player with high hopes for the rest of the game. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Regardless of what choices the player makes, the game remains largely unaffected. The game provides the illusion of a branching storyline where the players' choices open new paths, but in truth there is just One True Path. This is most obviously demonstrated early on with the option to save a child who has just fallen into a frozen lake, with the police approaching. Choose to save the child and run away, the police find you - continue from last save. Save the child and run away in a different direction, and the police still find you (with the same cut-scene) - continue from last save. On my third attempt, I finally saw what the game wanted me to do. And it's this distinction that holds the game back: it's about what the game wants to do, not what the player wants to do.
In a recent interview, Ron Gilbert (creator of Monkey Island) condemned the idea of 'interactive storytelling', saying
...I don't believe stories should be interactive. I believe stories should be _participatory_... You're participating in my story, but you're not going to change it, because it's _my_ story. I have a story to tell you.
This makes a lot of sense, and Fahrenheit sits a lot better as a "participatory story." Hackneyed script aside, it's as immersive a game as I've ever played, and it's quite capable of tearing away a few hours at a time, while comfortably providing plenty of opportunities to duck out of the game: a feature I wish more games provided.
Microsoft released Microsoft: Codename Max, a photo-organisation application, just like not at all like iPhoto or Picasa.
I haven't had a chance to try this out properly just yet (still firmly entrenched in iPhoto territory), but my first impressions are: Wow, Microsoft are really going after the Apple dollar now. Right down to jacking their smooth gradient web style.
Although, I'll give them this much - the transparent box icon is very cute.
But it's not the looks that matter. If the DS has taught Nintendo nothing else, it's taught them that they can sidestep the Xbox 360 vs Playstation 3 one-upmanship and make innovative, entertaining games by exploring other possibilities - shifting the emphasis from the "games" to "playing." What's more, it's taught them that these games can be made for a fraction of the budget of games on other platforms.
This seems to be a lesson that they've learned well. Although the Revolution will certainly be powerful enough to churn out some staggering amount of polygons, it seems as if a lot of the emphasis will be on small 'parlour games', a la Wario Ware or Mario Party. Things like EyeToy and Singstar were great ideas and encouraged a lot of people to play games that wouldn't normally because they were easy to pick-up-and-play - a quick burst of fun, rather than an epic challenge. But because these were niche accessories, they weren't catered for to any great extent. Since this is the primary controller for the new Nintendo console, there's no fear of it being relegated to that sort of niche status.
And this is the other important lesson here: games have, essentially, plateaued. Let me explain. My girlfriend is someone who has never played games, and she's not going to start now. It's not because she doesn't like games, she does. She recently completed and enjoyed Silent Hill 2, but only through a system where she took on the puzzle/exploration parts, and threw the controller at me for action parts, or anything that required precise control. And that's the lesson here: unfamiliarity with controllers is a major barrier to entry for new gamers. Once again, we can give the example of EyeToy as an example of something that worked because people could play it without requiring the type of muscle-memory that gamers have built up through years of practice.
But Nintendo aren't just courting a new market with this idea. With this new controller, it opens a whole range of possibilities for people who are more familiar with games to engage them with new a new way to experience familiar games. For example, playing First Person Shooters like Doom 3 with the long, remote control-style stick acting as your gun or torch and direction controlled by the analog thumbstick. According to the IGN hands-on, this set-up is more intuitive than any currently-existing system.
But all this yapping won't really do much good. For a much better glimpse of what Nintendo have in mind, you should check out their promo video, which gives you an idea of the various uses for the controller.
On Friday, I took off out to Wicklow for a wedding, and I come back today with a bruised liver, a slightly soiled suit, an ingrown toenail and mild constipation from the amount of rich food and drink I consumed over the past three days.
Three days kicking it around Greystones and Glendalough. Three days of sitting around Glendalough House, getting drunk on champagne and canapes, going for naps in the library. Three days of hanging out with people I only knew from their various neuroses. Three days of feeling like Uncle Monty.
It's so nice to be back to normality. Don't get me wrong, this was by far the most interesting party I've ever been to, never once veering towards "dull", and I loved spending a few days feeling like a member of the landed gentry, but by 10pm on Saturday I was ready to kill someone for a Diet Coke that didn't have alcohol in it.
But what's most worrying is Gilliam's counter-reaction; he has labelled the film's critics as "narrow minded", even going so far as to say ""Everybody has their opinion - and some people are wrong."
Of course, there's no way I'm going to miss The Brothers Grimm when it opens here on November 4th, and I really hope I'm going to love it. But it certainly carries a certain amount of baggage, knowing that if I don't like it, I'm "wrong."
If you're anything like me, and you've been feeling like your list of accomplishments has started looking a little sparse, and maybe you've been wondering when you're going to finally get around to leaving your mark on the world (and if 'stains' count as marks), then your day is about to get worse - the Moxie Cinema is finally opening on September 21st.
For over a year, Dan and Nicole have been struggling to open an independent cinema in their hometown of Springfield, MO. They've overcome financial and legal setbacks and worked their fingers to the bone - all of which has been excruciatingly and entertainingly documented by Dan on the Moxie Blog. Now finally, they're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
What makes all this slightly painful for me is that Dan is actually a year younger than I am. I have a year's head start on him, but nothing to show for it.
Aw, just kidding. Best of luck to Dan and Nicole. If I'm ever near Springfield, I promise to drop by and show my support.
Regardless of how you try to justify it, Sharkboy and Lavagirl in 3D is a bad movie. Spy Kids 3D (the obvious comparison) was the weakest of that series and yet it still towers over Sharkboy in terms of plot and well... sense of fun. Even worse is that Sharkboy commits that cardinal sin of children's movies: actually talking down to its audience.
And yes, I know it's a kid's movie and all, and I shouldn't have high expectations but none of the kids in the cinema with me seemed particular engaged. In fact, most seemed bored by the story, although completely wowed by the 3D effect. The standout moment came for me when Lavagirl died (In children's movies, all heroes are contractually obliged to die or appear to die) and some kid behind me shouted out "Deadgirl".