Thursday, July 31, 2008

Your tax dollars at work

Before I split from the program, I worked for the county's department of public works. I had a diagnostics room and it was mine. My diagnostics room was packed floor to ceiling with shelves packed with three ring binders. Each binder was packed with in house created check lists for diagnosing every conceivable problem on all of the county's computer systems. At first I was impressed with what I thought was an incredible resource of problem solving empowerment. I was wrong, the binders were organized by the problem, which would make the binders unnecessary if I knew what was wrong. Which didn't make a lot of sense to me until I discovered that I had to check off and initial each step on the check list. The binders weren't for diagnosing problems, they were for proving that I correctly identified the problem. The binders were my proof that I followed procedure. Fixing simple problems took me hours and I never once had the wrong binder. After work, on my drive home, I would think of new problems I could write binders for, that way I could maintain full time hours and benefits.

Your tax dollars at work.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Syrup Beer

I watched a star fall from the sky and strike a lightly wooded area nearby. It didn't occur to me to look for the meteorite until the following day. I couldn't find it.

Looking for fallen meteorites is a lot like lamenting wasted potential. Imagining you weren't a loser doesn't make you less of a loser. Unrealized potential is probably just a trick your memory plays on you, you probably didn't have any potential to start with.

I saw a green floating orb once. It dominated a valley, casting green light on the surrounding wooded hillsides. It never occurred to make to take a picture. I shrugged it off as lucid dream. A few years later a man told me his story of seeing an green orb at a different location a few miles away, I said nothing. Weird shit.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Real heroes for real men.

A battered woman is not a victim until she embraces victimhood. Leaving her husband isn't victory, it's escape. Injustices committed against you do not make you a hero. Bringing down an insurance company by reporting misconduct is whistle blowing. A whistle blower is still a betrayer no matter the crime reported. Victims and whistle blowers are cowards heroes.

Combating creative autism in video games:
I'm working very hard on making something very different. Therefor to avoid contamination and maintain the creative continuity of the project, I am reimposing the moratorium on screen shots until game play development nears completion.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


This is a preview, a preview of your future, you can make it your own if your strong enough to split the train named life. I'm providing you a unique oppertunity to live vicariously through me. An oppertunity to live my toil, embrace my disillusionment and experience the futility of independent game development.

Like any true independent game developer, we have no office so we develop at universities student union. It's the summer, and the school is doing freshmen orientation, the kids look so fresh, so healthy, they all think they have a bright future. When the orientation tours come through the union, I have to fight my desire to warn them, to warn that half of them will never graduate from anywhere. They are simply boarding the train named life, they are doomed to a relentless, hopeless and repetitive future. The only difference between education levels is how far forward they ride on the train. You can never reach the front, the train has unlimited fuel, unlimited track, no conductor and it will never ever stop.

Payday enslaves you. Your salary is a bi monthly injection of slavery. Regular reliable paydays keep you on that train named life. The only way to move forward to the nicer train cars is by waiting, waiting for those ahead of you to die and get thrown off the train. Your career isn't success, it's waiting for the people ahead of you to die. Payday is your master.

Once you split from the program, once you step off that train, once you kick that payday addiction; you will be ready to split that train named life. Once split, you will be free, free to create, free to invent, free to build your own train, free to build your own cage. You must build your own tracks, build your own train, be your own conductor and use your soul for fuel. And when you die, your train will careen off your tracks, everyone will watch and no one will care and no one will take your seat.

News from the imaginary front:
Gary is writing a software renderer for the sake of his own education. I redesigned the rendering pipeline again. I'm working harder not smarter.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

I just ride the wave...

Last week I was lucky enough to witness a man using jack hammer barefoot.

I spent the day working with floating point render targets.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Graphic Stories for a Graphic Game

The student union appears to employ a lot of reformed crystal methamphetamine addicts. They all have the same easy going upbeat attitude which can only be induced with anti psychotics, but the real give away is the particular style of tooth decay they share. I'm guessing that they are part of a court ordered combination rehab work program.

Their pay is exactly it's value more then what I make.

Graphic Stories for a Graphic Game:
I have been working harder and not smarter to flesh out the story line, to make it more exciting and to make it easier to identify with.

I should be done wrapping up the new rendering pipeline this weekend. This screen shot demonstrates per pixel lighting combined with an diffuse map, ambient map and specular map. Normal mapping and shadow casting await me.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Splitting the Train

Fairy tails have things like elves, goblins and magic jewelry, fairy tails are told by women to children. Are you a man who roll plays fairy tails? I have been thinking a lot about hero's lately. Real hero's are always the masculine embodiment of a man, who is alone capable of conquering his world, essentially the hero is an easy to identify masculine ideal. A hero is a romanticized alpha male. Hero's are made when normal men like you are forced into incredible situations (which cause your balls to drop). Incredible situations force you to become the man you always wished you were, and man your father could be proud of.

Whenever I felt like I was loosing focus walking the long hard road of solo game development, I would walk down to the large lake near my house. I would swim as far out as I could, I would swim until I felt like I could go no farther, I would swim until my body forced me to surrender, to give up, to quit. I would swim in the foolish attempt to conquer the instinctive will to survive, in the end I always surrendered to nature and would turn back. When I would finally make it back to the beach, I would pull myself onto the mud and lay and embrace my existence unconcerned or offended by the mud, bugs, stench or my own exhausted lack of breath.

One day my life changed, when I got to the point that I felt that I could swim no farther, I swam farther, I swam until I knew I would be unable to return, I kept swimming, harder and faster, forcing myself forward, weakening my body and strengthening my soul. I had decided that I would conquer survival, this lake was going to be my end, I overcame self preservation, I had chosen certain death by drowning via exhaustion. I swam completely across the lake and instead of pulling myself onto the shore, I walked out of the water. I started to puke, but I refused. My mind triumphed over my body. I defeated self preservation.

Last week I mentioned that the light at the end of the tunnel was actually a train named life careening towards you. I neglected to mention that once you conquer yourself you will become an unmovable blade of incredible density, capable of and destined to split that train named life. Once accomplished, you will be rewarded with the inability to hold a job or every have a normal life. Once you quit the program, once you have crossed that point of no return, that point at the center of the lake, you will find that nothing really matters and that what you believe doesn't really matter to anyone but yourself.


I remember one of my English teachers describing suffix "-cide" and how uncommon it is. She asked if any of us could think of words it's used in, someone said "pesticide" and teacher looked a little amazed, so I added "homicide, xenocide, fratricide, genocide, infanticide and suicide." My lesbian English teacher now looked a little uncomfortable. I have since learned some more words which take advnatage of the "-cide" suffix, autocide, deicide, democide, ethnocide, femicide, mariticide, parenticide, pseudocide, regicide, senicide, tomecide and uxoricide the killing of your wife. Shit your pants fun huh? Enjoy.

All quiet on the western front:
Thats what the German newspapers said when the allies broke through along the entire front while half a million German's died in the last two months of the war. Anyway I'm working on more story arcs and Gary is still pounding through tutorials.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Wooden Idols & Skid Marks!

My 4th of July was awesome, I bet yours sucked. My Lesson for next year is don't drink wine bottles like you would beer bottles!

One time I thought I was losing my hair, it was seriously freaking me the fuck out. It went on for around three months, I started checking out various hair care products that claimed to stop hair loss and regrow hair. I replaced my furnace and the old one turned out to be leaking carbon monoxide into the air circulation system. My hair loss stopped after the furnace replacement, lesson learned - heaters are for girls and men who embrace the cold will keep their hair when they are subversively attacked by furnaces.

News from the game development DMZ:
I spent the morning working on the new rendering engine, I added per pixel light, ambient and specular maps are on the agenda for tomorrow. I spent the afternoon working on story arcs, It's pretty exciting shit, I bet you will leave skid marks on your whitey-tighties.

Keep your butt puckered because Gary spent the day learning about graphics, one day he hopes to takeover the graphics development. If he eventually takes it over - I promise to carve him some wooden idols.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Shit your pants fun!

When I started this project, I decided that if I was going to make the self imposed deadline, I simply wouldn't have time to both sleep and drink. I consigned myself to the fact that I would have to sacrifice one of my beloved upon the altar of progress.

Not sleeping is not as bad as you might have guessed, once you get past the first few days you accept that your productivity per hour has substantially decreased but the total number of hours available to be productive have nearly doubled, leaving you with positive progress. I can't ignore the fact that the overall quality of my life and noticeably decreased and I remind myself that I don't try, I just do. I'm selflessly putting progress before safety for your selfish unappreciative entertainment needs.

For those of you who appreciate my generous sacrifices upon the altar of progress, I would like to remind you that the light you see at the end of the tunnel, that you are dutifully running towards is actually a train named life and it's traveling fast, hard, and in your direction.

News of the battle of shader graphics:
Today I decided to rewrite the rendering engine again, it's failing to deliver on my demands. The new render interface is more streamlined, more exciting, more powerful and if everything goes as intended and expected it should be one of my final engagements on the graphics programming front.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Dueling or Dancing? (with a train)

I have found an IDE build bug, and that makes me awesome, I have no idea how to fix it. I suggested to Gary that jumping in front of a bus would be more exciting and we got to discussing the details of jumping in front of buses. We concluded for the only way to be killed by a bus would entail you having to trick the bus driver into thinking that your a normal pedestrian and then at the last second you would have to dive in front of the bus so that the driver wouldn't have an oppertunity to stop in time. Ultimately I concluded that its much better to jump in front of a freight train, because it is very unlikely that they will be able to stop before hitting you. The train also gives you the oppertunity to test your commitment by facing certain death. Only dancers get out of the way of an oncoming train, are you a dancer?

Total commitment is burning bridges in both advance and retreat; never surrender and never relent.

That's how I live my life.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

"go away, I got a grip on it."

Yesterday I was eating chowmein and peking pork while playing one of those soulless scripted monstrosities of commercialism. I'm not going to bother naming names here... because all the pillow talking prostitutes are the same. I was around two hours deep and It felt like I was cheating on myself, which is a surprisingly confusing sensation. Two hours deep the game was still telling me which button to press when I got near objects like doors or walls. Honestly it felt like I was trying to jerk off for the first time with with someone holding my free hand and telling me what to do, which was nice for the first few minute. But then it was distracting and I knew it was going to be hard to finish, like when someone interrupts you when your going solo in your parents guest bathroom.

News from the disillusioned front:
Gary as polygonal collision detection sorted out. However he started walking really hard when he tried to get proper collision response. I forced him to take a break and work on something else, so right now he is working on improving power train response. Harder and Faster.

Scott (Sk1zot) liked Brandon's car so much that trashed it up hard with a new shitbird styled texture.