“I was reading David Chang’s Momofuku cookbook, and there’s a passage in there where he points out that there’s this convention amongst top-flight chefs,” he continues. “They are all expected to offer their own personal take on two basic standards: bread service, and an egg dish. These foods are so neutral in flavour and so dependent on technique that you can use them to analyze the difference between chefs as artists.”
“And I reflected on what that would mean for game designers. I decided that we should all make our own versions of Pong (which is eggs), and chess (which is definitely bread),” Foddy suggests. “I would strongly recommend it as an exercise to anyone in a creative field—figure out what the bread is, and what the eggs are, and then give them your best shot. It’s a great way of figuring out your own identity as a creator.”
I’ve been tracking the emergence of a “play ethic” in the internet of things / connected products field for a while because most of the projects are so damn utilitarian. This new series of works by Brendan about email is kind of interesting in that regard. Lana in particular is nice because it appears to “contain” email and spits it back at you in a sort of random manner.
He credited his friend and fellow artist Lawrence Abu Hamdan with showing him that WikiLeaks and the NSA actually have a very similar view of the world. “They both believe there’s a massive secret out there, and if they just get hold of the secret everything will be better,” Bridle said.
Been working on a card game about drone surveillance and warfare for a while now and James’s work has been a big influence. Nobody I know has put as much thought in the implications of these technologies through making things as he has.
we might get to a space where nobody really cares if a “real” object really “exists” at all; a spime can probably be made to exist if enough energy is thrown at it, and the real social issue is figuring out how to get rid of them, not to invent them or conjure them up
We didn’t do the things that tech companies were supposed to do. We didn’t move fast and break things. We didn’t disrupt and abandon. We didn’t do moon shots. We created a future by sitting the world down with a cup of tea and a bun and asking it some questions.
I’ve spent a lot of time watching dogs playing and it’s been a source of fascination and happiness for years. So the subject matter felt really natural to me. But as a game designer, I find the dynamics of how dogs play together really interesting. Dogs are expert players. Dog play is made of all these ritualized moments of violence and dominance, but when it’s healthy play, it doesn’t cross the line into real violence. Dogs are really good at regulating their play. Playing and playing well is this really deep instinct for dogs, and I thought it would be interesting to try to pull some of that into a game for humans. Healthy dog play isn’t about defeating a bunch of opponents — it’s about having fun above all, while simulating all these really dark and dangerous real-life situations and working out social relationships.
So the pretentious idea at the heart of Dog Park is to make a game that has all kinds awesome “fighting” in it that’s not about defeating your enemies. It’s about how we work together, by pretending to fight each other, by competing with each other, to create enjoyment for each other. In other words, it’s about trying to turn my players into dogs, for a few minutes at a time.