|
In Honor, an Essay in Celebration Rules of the Design, TPGII... On the 2nd Anniversary On the 2nd Anniversary On the Road Two years? It's only been two years? Wow... |
Not long ago I made one of those electronic searches that one does and did it with all deliberate intention. The gratification of finding the Perfect General II Page against what I felt to be a dismal prospect was total. Since that time I have felt no reason to find my original impression in error - in fact the contrary. After some years of companionship with my plastic, steel, and copper circuit board etchings so cleverly soldered and designed, where the machine and I romped and sweated against each other in agreeable contention from Pac Man to Bananas, I find a curious consistency in returning to one particular and admittedly flawed game regardless of other pastures tromped. But it is not a curious consistency, that I return so frequently to a certain electronic salon bearing upon its stalk members, not one fruit of which is like another except their common tie. The feast is never the same and each member of the common stalk keeps ripening to a new peak of flavorful richness. I am a gluttonous gorme of this feast for the gamer. In this solon the game is the thing, but I have found many other things as well. I do not require a great deal of the noisy companionship found amongst my fellows, but here the quality of the noise is a welcome cut, high above the average. The opportunity to have one's own noise reflected in fiery blasts or gentle puffs returning with the imprint of other minds often improved, renewed and amplified in another key and an upgraded harmony is an experience to which one returns as often as possible. It is a strange little niche among the countless carved in human companionship. Its minute size with an apparently limited and peculiarly selected scope, inhabited so sparsely is a marvel in the breadth of the world over which it wanders. The substance around which this companionable flow pours is characteristically and exceedingly human. It is imperfect. It demands improvement; It is rich with potential. It is difficult. It is easy. It is filled with those contradictions that constantly intrigue and entice; and, perhaps most importantly, it is accessible. These characteristics are shared by the Game and the Page. The Page is the cauldron, the Game is the substance. In their union with the stirring done by a team of cooks constantly at harmonious disagreement working together and apart, we find ourselves swimming in a piquant soup, spicing the breath of our lives being taken in and out as commonplace daily life unravels towards the end of its twisted and plied fibers. The passage of time is likely to mellow both the soup and the cook. Lest they become too mellow and lose their delightful spice, from time to time we see added to the process new cooks, cauldron improvements perhaps one day new game elements, though should that happen I suspect there will be nostalgic sighs for the old days when work arounds were the order of the day. This too shall pass and the Page will dissolve like our flesh back into substances of origin. Like our lives marked with the awakenings of mornings seemingly ad infinitum and oh hum, one day the Page will awake for one last time and afterwards, perhaps, someone will note the event with surprise to wonder why so satisfactory a thing should end, when the obvious expectation was to be another day, and another ad infinitum. Well, what ever the particulars of the end, disease, old age, starvation, trauma, I celebrate this day, not as one particularly notable among all the rest; but, as another wonderful one among the many which have pulled together in a marvelous brew all those human qualities of fun, creativity, companionship, and reflection. It is the electronic counterpart of the warrior's brief interlude around campfire that binds hearts together that struggle on other days with the turmoil of battle no matter what the field might be. |
Sign our Guestbook |