Farewell To Nova Scotia

When I was in my early years of high school I was, sadly, already a nostalgic sop. I thought to myself, probably on some sort of emotional high, that I would be very sad to ever leave beautiful Nova Scotia.

How times change.

Why I Don't Shop at Wal-Mart: A Story About God-Game Economic Narrative

I've always wanted to do a post on god-game narrative because it's such a fascinatingly depressing kind of realism. Sure, god-games are all about creating your own imaginary civilization or country. They do present a fun way to experiment with, in some cases, quasi-realistic economies.

I'm not an economics major--I'm an English and journalism grad. If I knew more about economics maybe I would believe economists like Kevin O'Leary when they say "greed is good." But probably not, because greed is not good. It doesn't take an economist to follow the consumerist line of thinking through to where it should lead. God-games have simply accelerated and simplified the process.

It has been said that greed drives everything in society (I wouldn't argue that) and in so doing, all the wealth the greedy people make trickles down to the average working person. Consumerism keeps North America going.

But I don't shop at Wal-Mart.

Realism and Red Baron

The first videogame I ever really played was Red Baron. I had the Windows95 version and it was one of the only real games we had at the time.

Being quite young, I didn't fully understand the concepts, much less the design, but it was fun to fly around and the aerial battles were, for a game of its time, pretty thrilling. I always loved flying tri-planes.

My father taught me just enough about the menu to get me into a game, and I picked up a little bit more on my own over time. The campaigns were great, but there was one part of the game I could never get the hang of.

Oh, the dreaded "Realism" menu.

Mimicry and the Derivative: Read More, And Ignore

It has been said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I really hope that's true, because this week I've wasted at least two hours holding my head in my hands agonizing about originality.

I Just Fixed My First Ever Door

I've never been one to indulge in a lot of manly handiwork.

But I am proud that I have just fixed a door.

It was one of those folding-style ones that probably dates from sometime between 1943 and 1968. It didn't take a lot of effort, but I do feel abundantly practical--almost even useful, if not quite. In amongst a long month of not much, that is definitely something to think about.

I promise this isn't simply filler content. Really. See the post on Chai tea.