Hashtag Resolution

Welp, New Years is a-comin', and we all know what that means! New Years Resolution time!

I guess I've never actually done a real one of these before, though. I mean, people always ask "Oh, what's your New Years Resolution going to be?" and I've always had to sort of fumble around for an answer that I didn't really mean--which was always an unsurprisingly short-lived sentiment when all was said and done. This year, though. This year I've decided on the resolution without even thinking of New Years at all. I created an idea of what I want to do with my life in the near future, and afterwards said to myself, "Hey, y'know what? I should make this my New Years Resolution!"

So I did. Anyway, I bet you are all just dying to know what my resolution actually is at this point, but I must urge you to please attempt to stave off your anticipation for just a few more lines. I know it's hard. I know you need to know everything about my life or you'll just die, but I'll get there soon, don't worry. Calm yourselves.

I think I want to word my resolution in the most elegantly vague way possible, so as to fit all of the things I want to do within one blanket statement. I've narrowed down a common theme, I think. And, of course, there needs to be a metaphor. We're going all out this year. Gonna do the thing--and, in this case, the thing is be absolutely goddamn poetic. Or not. Y'know, sometimes I just like to do things for shiggles. Gotta have my own flair--my own style!

Alright, that's enough nonsensical stalling. Now I'll get to the #HashtagRealtalk portion of this post.

So I've put a lot of thought into it, and I've decided that I'm going to go with the metaphor of my life being a story (preferably a cool one that gets told at parties)--or, perhaps even better, a screenplay. I'm the main protagonist because, y'know, it's my life and stuff.

Essentially what I want to do this next year is introduce a few new characters, and maybe get to know some who haven't had as much screen time as I feel they deserve (I'm the playwright as well as the main character in this scenario). I want this year to be rife with interesting sub-plots, and I want to see who the audience thinks should have a bigger role in this story than they presently do (I'm also the audience, by the way--I never said the metaphor was perfect).

Basically, I've plans to work with a team of really cool people on a project that might become something bigger than just a grade for a class if we really put our all into it, and I hope that I get to know all of my teammates better in the process (and maybe get green-lit on Steam! Wouldn't that be something?). I also want to start hanging out with people who I don't see often enough but really enjoy the company of, because who knows how long it'll be before we're all too busy to make that much time for each other? And, of course, there's that one mysterious character who has been mentioned multiple times earlier in the show, but hasn't been in the spotlight until now! Hopefully going to see a lot of them in the acts to come.

All in all, I think this year is going to be a good one. I want to make more of myself, and do some things that are good for me--though not necessarily to the detriment of anyone else. If you guys need anything, you know you can always ask! I'm good like that. Have a happy New Year, everyone! See you in 2015!

--J

Hashtag Christmas

Merry Christmas, everyone! Kind of snuck up on a lot of us this year, I know. It honestly didn't even really feel too Christmas-y for me until a day or two ago. I mean, yeah, the songs are everywhere, and people are out clogging all the highways trying to get presents, but I honestly haven't felt much in the way of Christmas spirit until a few days ago. But now the cheer is here, so here's me spreading the Christmas cheer to all three of my readers! Wow!

(Gettin' there. Reader-count's steadily climbing. It's, uh... I'll be internationally known before long, I think.)

Anyway. I think the biggest thing about Christmas is not so much the inescapable consumerism, but more the general happy-go-lucky attitude associated with the holiday. I mean, really, it's not so different from any other day, but it does (hopefully) get us into the giving mood. Take me, for example: I'm giving you all words for Christmas! Lots of them! Over the internet!

(If you don't like my present to all of you, just remember this: at least it isn't fruitcake! Don't make me buy you fruitcake. I will. I'll watch you eat it, too.)

Citron-based threats aside, though, I hope you all have a great Christmas this year! I know I won't be able to spend it with a lot of you because I have so many friends now who live in faraway lands thanks to college, but I'll be thinking of you all while I'm stuffing my face full of ginger cookies. I'll eat one for each of you. I think I probably have enough.

All jokes aside, I'm really happy to have the collection of friends that I have today. You're all so weird and interesting in your own special ways, and it sounds cliche as all hell, but I don't really care. You guys are great! Hopefully this break will be full of relaxation for all of my fellow students who've been working their asses off this semester. We'll play games and stuff together to help with that, don't worry. I've got you covered. Gonna craft the mines and kart the Marios and all that good stuff. S'what I'm good for.

Anywho, time to sleep! Santa can't deliver to the house while I'm awake, and I can't get in the way of his busy schedule, now, can I? Merry Christmas, guys! Hope the haul is good this year!

--J

Hashtag Yoshi

This'll probably be a shorter one than usual ("Oh no, Justin, please; we love when you talk a lot, please make all your posts as long as possible!" Guys, stop. I know you're just saying that to make me happy) but I'm sitting here awake and this new Yoshi amiibo I got a day or two ago is just staring at me through the darkness as I lay awake. I can see the whites of his eyes even with the lights off. And, uh... the whites of his cheeks, I guess. And his belly and shell and--there are actually a lot of parts of him that are white, now that I'm really looking at him. Huh.

Anyway, seeing my little Yoshi figurine just standing there on my desk looking all adorable (as Yoshi has been known to do) reminded me of something from forever ago. Y'see, I used to actually be very into sculpture. I guess I sort of still am when I have clay at hand. But, way back when, I used to make things out of Sculpey (that polymer clay you always see at Michael's) on a pretty regular basis. I still have a bunch of my amateur sculptures in my desk at home, I believe.

One of the things I remember making back then was, in fact, Yoshi. I think I may have even made some spotted eggs and a Shy Guy, too. I was really into playing Yoshi's Story back then--which is basically Yoshi's Island, but without that annoying, blubbering baby--so it's only natural that I would pick those characters as my reference material.

Anywho, back in the days of being like eight or whatever, I would very frequently bring things with me to restaurants. I'm not totally sure why, it was just sort of a habit that I had. Oftentimes, the things in question were those little sculptures I made--as soon as they were baked and sufficiently hardened to the point where they couldn't be squashed and deformed, that is. This time in particular, I had brought the Yoshi and a few other bits and bobs to one of our favorite pizza places which has since changed names a number of times. I remember it being one of the few times we actually sat down in the more formal area, where they gave you a menu and you actually got a server bringing you your food instead of just going up and getting the pizza yourself. When the server came by, he expressed interest in the clay Yoshi, saying that the character was his favorite one from the Mario franchise and that he thought it was so cool. He seemed so excited about it that I--being like eight or whatever--offered to make him one. It was no trouble, really. I could make another one in no time, and it would be even bigger. The offer seemed to really make his day. I even asked him what his favorite color was, if I remember correctly.

Now, being like eight or whatever, I meant what I said. I'd promised to make this random guy a Yoshi out of clay, and dammit, I was going to! And I did. And it was bigger than my first and in the color he'd specified. When I showed up with it about a week later, he was extremely surprised that I had actually gone through the trouble of making it, though I didn't really catch on to it on account of being, y'know, like eight or whatever at the time. Later, my parents told me that he probably didn't expect me to actually come back with a little statue for him, which I was really confused about. I mean, I gave him my word. Why wouldn't he believe me? Why wouldn't he think I'd be back?

That part of the whole scenario really stuck with me. Many a time after that I remember imagining the look of disappointment on his face when I didn't return with the promised artifact. I thought that I could never make someone feel like that--so hurt and forgotten. It started to make me upset that the average person would've caused that, even if--in retrospect--it was only a small thing that he would've forgotten about after a time.

Then again, I haven't forgotten even after all these years. So perhaps those small things really do matter.

Looking back, that memory might've been an even bigger influence on me than I had previously thought when I started writing this post. Even today, I hate disappointing people. I want to help people out even when it may take a little extra work on my end. So long as someone else's happiness and gratitude outweighs the trials I had to go through to make them feel that way, it's well worth it. And so, I encourage everyone reading this to go out and make their own version of a Yoshi statue for someone. Not necessarily literally, though. You know what I mean.

So, okay, maybe this was actually longer than I anticipated. You're welcome, I suppose. Let that be my gift to those of you who actually like reading my longer posts. There'll be more where these came from now that I'm on break starting in a few days. Until next time!

--J

Hashtag Perspective

It's been a while, guys. I know. "Why did you stop posting?" you all ask me. "I need something to read while on the toilet," you say. Well, your pleas have been answered--don't worry. You can all stop pestering me day-in and day-out for another post. Seriously. It's all I hear about.

I've been pretty damn busy lately. A lot of you probably already know this because--and this may come as a shock to some of you--GSAS majors actually do a substantial amount of work. At least, we do when we're taking Game Development I. I finally had some time to breathe, so I decided to go get a milkshake at 4 am with some friends. It was a damn good milkshake. Now, however, I'm not tired in the slightest, so I thought I'd share with you all of my recent musings.

It's come up quite a lot lately that "a fair number of arguments are actually not logical arguments, but rather arguments about language and definitions." The reason it comes up so often is probably because I hang out with a lot of very self-aware people. I've become quite introspective, myself, and it's led me to start thinking a lot about perspective (knew that was coming from the title, didn't you? Very astute of you. Very astute). How I view the world is (obviously) different from the way everyone else views the world. This is true for pretty much everyone. You didn't need me to tell you this.

"So everyone is different," you say, "we all already knew that." Hush. This is my blog. Stop interrupting me. How are you even doing that, anyway? Better yet, how did I know that's what you were going to say? I didn't. I'm bluffing.

I've realized lately that I'm very "in-the-middle" about a lot of things. I'm both a programmer and an artist. I'm both logical and empathetic. I like chocolate and vanilla because they're both viable flavors in their own right (I'm both being serious and joking right now)! I think it's good to be in the middle on a lot of things, because that's the way I was raised--to try to see both sides of an issue--and it's made being an observer very interesting.

Back home, I always felt like I was more logical than empathetic. I think, in the grand scheme of things, I heir on the side of logic when compared to the human race on the whole. At RPI, however, it seems as though the concentration of logical thinkers is very high, which makes me seem more empathetic when compared to the surrounding population. Because now I tend to heir on the side of empathy when it comes to debates and discussions, I've started to view a lot of topics differently. I make more concessions, now--rather than laying it on thick with the logic. I guess really I'm embracing the balance of empathy and logic that I already had, and coming to find it a very intriguing trait of humans on the whole.

Going back to perspective, though, I think it's interesting how a few of the people I talk to regularly think very differently than I do. There is someone who I've referred to as "essentially my opposite" on more than one occasion, and I find myself consistently intrigued by her differing views. There is something to be said for always getting a fresh perspective on trivial things that you may have taken for granted. Everyone's life is different, and everyone was raised in a different way.

Often times I'll argue with fellow GSAS majors what qualifies as "good design", and I've found that everyone has their own preferences ("Duh," you say. Shhh. We talked about this earlier). Some people are willing to look past their preferences, however, and design games that they, personally, might not like. These are the designers I hold in the highest regard.

Dr. Marc likes to say that "there are many aspects to a game, and a lot of things that you won't really care about, but somebody has to." I've decided that I want the mechanics of my games to feel "solid"--though if you ask me what I meant by the term "solid" I don't know that I could tell you. I've decided that "good UI" is crucial to a game, but I couldn't quantify what was "good" and what wasn't without examples. I'd like to think this is the perspective I bring to a game design team, and that everyone will at least understand why I focus on these two things first and foremost. I hope that people appreciate my insight as much as I appreciate theirs, and understand my definitions of "solid" and "good", even if they don't completely agree.

I think I've sort of made it clear already, but one of the points I wanted to get across with this post is that I may be "in-the-middle", but that doesn't mean I don't have opinions. Pretty clear I've got opinions seeing as I have a blog, in which I write about my opinions. I mean, duh. My opinions, however, are not as radical as some people might assume. One thing I've noticed about arguments is that, usually, each person picks a side. That's kind of how it goes. However, just because I've picked a side does not mean that I won't make concessions to the other side. I try to make concessions when I can, but sometimes I don't get the chance to. A lot of times I feel as though the people I'm arguing with don't think I'm being genuine when I make a concession to their side, which I always find weird, honestly. Do not enough people do this? Does it really throw people for a loop when I agree with them immediately after disagreeing with them? Does it make me fickle? Or does it just make me empathetic?

I'll admit--it's hard for me to make up my mind on a lot of issues. If I ever say anything contradictory it's probably because I believe each statement to a certain extent--not that I'm lying about my true opinions. Honestly, it's because I'm trying so hard to be transparent about what I believe that I contradict myself so much, weird as that is. I'm very prone to "paralysis by analysis". That said, I think that it's difficult to make a statement that can go either way on a topic that is currently being argued. I think that, in the scope of an argument, people take what I say as way more absolute than I mean it to be. Please don't. Really. I very rarely work in absolutes, and it's frustrating when people assume that I do.

This is running very long, so I think I'll end it here. I just want to finish by referencing The Phantom Tollbooth (which, if you haven't read, you should totally go pick it up. It's a short read, and it's incredibly clever). In the book, there's this part where Milo, the main character, meets the same man four times in a row--each time under a different title. He is "The Fat Man" to a skinny man, "The Skinny Man" to a fat man, "The Tall Man" to a short man, and "The Short Man" to a tall man. He's always the same person, though, which confuses Milo, until the man explains:

It's all about perspective.

Perspective can be shifted by upbringing, and it can also be shifted by a person's current frame of mind, but being able to flow freely through multiple perspectives is the key to being a more empathetic person, I've found. Trying to shift your own perspective when communicating with others will likely make communication easier on the whole, which will end up being better (and much less frustrating) for both parties. If you ever feel like you're attempting to talk to a wall, try it out--try to understand the perspective of the other person and maybe you'll learn something new. If it doesn't work, you might actually be talking to a wall. Probably the reason everyone's looking at you funny. Maybe you should just walk away like nothing happened. Yeah. No one saw that. You're good.

--J

Hashtag Threading The Needle

This post is probably going to be a shorter one--sorry 'bout it. I know I don't post often anymore, but I'm busier now than I was in the summer when I started this. Really, this post is almost an open letter to all of my friends and acquaintances. There's something I want to say to all of you that is hard to say to each individual in person. Don't worry, it's not a bad thing.

I like telling people how I feel about them. If you talk to me on a regular basis, I've probably told you how much I appreciate you for being in my life and being awesome for that specific reason I found you awesome that day. This is easy to do for me. I find it easy to tell someone that I appreciate them, and I still feel like I want to do it more often, but I don't want it to lose its meaning. It would be extremely ironic for the word "appreciate" to depreciate in meaning.

It's easy to tell someone that you like the relationship you have with them. It's easy to say that you like where you are and that, while you'd obviously always welcome positive change, you would be totally fine if things were like this with them forever. What's hard is telling someone that you don't like the relationship you have with them--telling them that you wish you could be more open with each other or that you talked more often--especially when circumstances don't really allow any sort of change in the direction you wish.

So here's me, saying to everyone that I have a few relationships in my life that I want to improve. Who doesn't, right? I would tell you outright if I could, and maybe I have but haven't expressed it completely. There are certainly those people I have no idea how to approach--no matter how much I want to. I'm sorry I've kept quiet to them--it's just sometimes hard for me to tell if they appreciate having me around as much as I appreciate having them in my life. I guess really what I'm asking here is for them to let me know.

I'm a social person. I enjoy making friends and learning about their lives and supporting them when and if they need it. People that I feel like I click with will always be a priority to me, so I just want you all to know that. Yes, I've got a lot on my plate. Yes, I appreciate having people to talk to regardless of this fact. Actually, I feel that I need breaks sometimes when no one is available to chat with, and that honestly sucks--especially when there are people available to talk to that I have literally no clue how to start a conversation with. So yeah. If you want me to be comfortable talking to you, show me that you're willing to help me achieve that level of comfort--otherwise I will continue to let things be left unsaid and leave you be. I'm assuming if you got this far that you actually care what I have to say, so know this: I'm willing to mend ties, but I need help threading the needle, you know? I think you get it. I'll be around if you ever want to talk.

--J

Hashtag Sensory Overload

I may be a programmer, but I still consider myself an artistic person. Everything I do, regardless of the inherent rigidity of the framework I'm confined to, I try to do as deliberately and artistically as possible. I make my code elegantly modular; I choose my words carefully and skillfully when writing; I focus on creating a multifaceted experience for my players when I'm wearing my designer's cap. It's all about deeper meaning--subtle complexities that may go unnoticed by many, but appreciated by the few who think similarly to the way I do. I appreciate the little things--every bit of polish that took just one extra moment to perfect, but yet makes all the difference.

I use this metric to separate the good games from the great games--FTL: Advanced Edition, for instance, had so many things that were done right. The developers added new systems and subsystems that further evolve gameplay, as well as made pre-existing gameplay elements even better. Allowing the player to save the crew's stations and send them back to those positions with the touch of a button was a glorious addition to the game, even though it was probably incredibly easy to implement. And making it so that players can easily tell what rooms they'll end up damaging with beam weapons by simply highlighting those rooms? Genius.

But you all already knew how much I appreciate elements of games that were well-executed--at least, I would hope that you do, seeing as that tendency is a crucial part of my game developer's lens. What I wanted to talk about aside from all of the usual "I really love [game] because [reason]" is the kind of art I appreciate--and I use the term "art" loosely here, because some of what I'm about to talk about isn't necessarily even art by the strictest definition, but I believe it can be appreciated as such.

First off, music. We all like music, though some of us have a wider variety of preferences than others. I've noticed lately that I really enjoy music that completely envelops me in sound. I like a loud bass, lots of background synth tracks that you might not even realize are there unless you're listening closely, and rich, full chords. Harmonic ostinatos are encouraged, of course, as they provide for very interesting pieces, but all that really matters to me is that there is always an instrument playing--with the exception of deliberate grand pauses right before the drop.

I've come to realize that this sensory overload would be an appreciated form of spectacle for a lot more than just music, but music is the most successful at pulling it off amongst the things I've experienced so far. The reason I like it so much is probably because it is inherently complex with the same, often-unnoticed subtleties that I appreciate in just about everything else. The result is a whole spectrum of simultaneous experience that leaves the mind reeling in wonderment and awe, seeking to branch out into all the directions that suddenly seem possible. Needless to say, this really gets my creative juices flowing.

To describe the way it feels in one word, I'd have to use the term "magical"--though it does seem a little bit cliché. But you really have to agree that music is essentially magic in how it has the ability to make us experience such a wide spectrum of emotion--even though it's essentially just well-organized noises and sounds.

But enough about music--I'd like to turn the attention of this post to the sky and the cosmos. The sheer power of the weather and the Earth itself is astounding to me, as well as the vastness of everything that lies beyond our small, blue planet. That feeling when there's thunder echoing off of the sky itself--again, being totally enveloped in sound--causes my mind to open up in a similar way to how I described earlier. I love to witness spectacles of nature, which is a trait I definitely got from my mother, who taught me to embrace every thunderstorm that passes through by watching and listening. More than anything, though, I would love to see the Aurora Borealis. I almost got the chance only days ago, but I was unable to see anything due to the geomagnetic activity level being too low for it to be entirely visible from where I am. The idea of seeing the entire sky dance with color and illuminate the landscape just seems like an utterly humbling experience, however, and I want to witness it at least once in my life. To be enveloped in sound is one thing, but for myself and everything around me to be completely enveloped in a rainbow of colors--now that is an experience that's sure to make my creative mind run wild.

Hashtag Tangential Learning

I've realized that I've been throwing around the phrase "tangential learning" a lot lately--usually when I'm talking about my campers. It really is what I strive for as a counselor--and as a game designer. If you don't know what it means, here's a little explanation (if you know what it means already, feel free to skip this next paragraph. I won't be offended. Well... I won't be too offended. I mean, I won't really know, I guess. Only you will. Only you will be able to feel guilty about skipping over a part of this thing I've taken my time to write for no one else's sake but your own. No judgement, though. Seriously):

"Tangential learning" is a phrase that refers to the knowledge you gain from something indirectly which you seek out on your own time. It could be sparked by a class, a book, a game--anything, really. Doesn't even necessarily have to be educational. In fact, sometimes it's even cooler when it's not. All "tangential learning" means is that you, as a person, have found something intriguing enough to seek out more details about it during your leisure time. If you feel this way about something, it's likely that the information learned in this manner will be more memorable, because you care more about it and are taking your own initiative. You weren't forced to memorize flash cards or do practice problems--you took the time to fulfill a curiosity. This, however, makes it relatively hard to instigate tangential learning, which kind of blows. Alright, the people who skipped this paragraph are coming back now. Thank you guys for reading--those other guys are total jerks. Don't tell them I said so, though.

Oh, hey! Did you know that people with guilty consciences are more startled by loud noises? Well, now that we've got everyone together again, let's continue. The easiest way I can think of to incite tangential learning is to offer a link to (or the name of) a resource where a viewer/reader/student can find more information about a certain topic should it be of interest to them. The only way they would feel inclined to use this extra resource, however, is if they view the topic at hand as interesting. Therefore, the best way to inspire this kind of learning is to show your audience something cool to start with, and tell them "But wait, there's more!" or "But we don't have enough time to cover all of [insert subject here]." If they enjoy the small amount of knowledge you've already given them, they'll be more likely to seek knowledge on their own--and, lucky for our generation, we have a convenient source of boundless information at our disposal.

Now that I'm back at RPI, I'm realizing that I like tangential learning so much because I'm so very susceptible to it. Last year, I would look up etymologies of words that I found interesting. This year, I find myself pulling up new tabs during Introduction to Game Design to research tangential topics that Dr. Marc brings up. I've also realized that the reason I love Dr. Marc's classes is because he does bounce all over the place--he brings up unrelated topics and ties them into what we're talking about. And... well, sometimes he doesn't tie it all together. But it's still entertaining, and still makes me want to learn more--which, to me, is what being a teacher is all about. It's not about teaching your students useless crap that they won't even remember after the test, it's about making them want to learn about even more than what you teach them. My favorite teachers in high school and college alike understood this, which, naturally, is why they're my favorite teachers. Good on you guys. Our school system needs more people like you.