june 12the games are ultimately easy once you get the system - the best games either have a tricky system, twisting and turning your solutions into new problems, or they are like predictably pleasant conversations with good friends - you're in it for the observations along the way. otherwise, most playable games have good rewards, like you keep jumping for a larger biscuit after you've eaten the last one. tetris kills me shortly, i'm one for role playing game type stuff - fostering an alter-ego in an entertaining environment. i imagine some day i'll try to make a video game. i already have (tried), but i can't sustain attention to programming. i could just take existing games and make them smarter - the typos and spelling erors in the midst of all that medieval pomposity are killing. be ironic, and fun, or maintain decorous standards. like this site. what? great characters, not simply sword-bearers and nefarious horned goo balls.
today i realized or decided that this web page updating is not some kind of phase. i've been doing this steady for four years - it comes out of me like last night's dinner. ouch - spicy!today:
the dead and never existanti feel better tonight, and i'm way past that rogue ale i drank earlier. my routine this week, the few nights amy's traipsed off to six hours swelling her feet serving drinks at "berkeley backwash" bar, my routine has been a single tall cool bottle of fine beer and escape velocity. when i feel close to raggin' on myself for wasting time with computer games, i reason i'm just indulging the only true sustainable addiction of the next generation. i'm educating myself about that. and i love games. good computer games can hold my interest for hours straight. so can good books.
so it was a good thing olivia called, one of her goals for the summer is to read a book a week. gosh - keepin' that brain in shape outside of academia (she's got a year left of school). me - i'll be a darn fool if i don't start packing in my freetimed brain all the crap that sat unread on my bookshelf while i delved into critical theory of shamanism and proust joyce and faulkner, etc. near half the books are the class books i faked reading. time to give other thoughts their time, beyond the space galaxy conquest i was steadily mastering.
so anyways, yesterday was a week in san francisco, and it was high time i finished the book i'd started in that time. (noted on my bukz page). thanks charlie mingus. reading him finally got that one more character for bud.com out of my brain and into some kind of autobiographical science fiction.
next? ursula k le guinn, i've never read her. or short essays by clarence darrow? my brain awaits the connection to the dead and never exstant! bring 'em on!back in april, when i wasn't updating so much, i talked to gk and somehow he got to reminiscing: spastic justin the outcast in 4th grade - you were strange. obsessively reading choose your own adventures. and hardy boys books.
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today's muzzik: after inspiration from charlie mingus writing his crazy schitt, like a brain fart from a mystic loner framed in black and white against the american fields of plenty of tasty hos! mmmm! yes! she's comin' home from work soon! and she wants it to be known that she does not condone the use of the word "ball" but baby, that what i/wee do and if you're there than you've been ballin, and you've been balled. but amy don't want my mom readin' that. well if my mom thought about it at all, she's know what i'm doin'. i guess there's no need to push it in her face. but at least it's writing not pure excrement i'm shoving around here, right, so it's easy to practice deconstruction and distance and even yes distaste!
amy's back from work: so i had to put on leadbelly while i made this. yep. where did you sleep last night - few sing with as much spirit on their sleeve as that fellah. god damn he takes a razor to the hairs on the back on my neck each time, and puts a match to the paper under my ass. listen yourself a little leadbelly - he'll sing straight through you. that, and KALX all throughout. amazing that shit is for free.
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justin hall | <justin at bud dot com>