NEW YEAR’S SCHMRESOLUTIONS: FUN-DAMENTAL

by on January 10th, 2014 at 3:16 pm

calvin-hobbes-new-years-resolutions

I’ve restarted this goddamn thing like ten times.

There are so many things that I don’t want to write right now because I know if I do I will be compelled to honor them. So many promises I want to make that I know, eventually, won’t last. I know I’ll look up a walk-through, I know I’ll buy a new Steam game before I finish (finish? Try START!) the last one I got. I know I’ll still have issues trusting most (all) game devs out there.

I try to look at resolutions in a more practical light, rather than through the rose-tinted Oculus Rifts of optimism that we so usually tie to the promises we make. I could say I’m giving up coffee. Find me that next morning with a straw in a bucket of brewed.

So what can I promise to myself that I know I will actually be able to honor? What’s a change I can make that’s equal parts positive and possible

I’m going to have fun.

FUN

I know, I’m really challenging myself.

I’ve already written about how I’m done with cynicism and have gone on podcast record talking about my disdain for blind hate and senseless system allegiances, and all these other splotches of black ink that I believe are obscuring the industry. That’s an ongoing battle for me, and since I already claimed it last year, that won’t work this time around.

But even with this new attitude, I’m still having a hard time using video games the way I used to, and, honestly, the way I want to. Gaming represents escapism and fantasy (in the true sense of the word). Even with the games that transport and thrill me, I still feel the weight of myself. I can’t turn off the analytic, critical light that I liberally shine around every corner.

Don’t get me wrong, this light of mine isn’t a bad thing. I’m not looking for problems, per se, instead I’m trying to see behind the curtains. I’m on an endless hunt for the secrets of sausage making. Fuck bells and whistles, show me the gears.

There’s nothing particularly wrong with any of that, but I know it’s not what an artist wants. When I share my writing, I don’t want them to marvel at some choice word play or be impressed by a well-planted seed. I want them to laugh and cry and be scared and angry.

I want to effect them.

They can learn all the secrets later, if they want to. But understanding why something works will never be as impressive as the sheer fact that it does work. Nearly everything else doesn’t. Effectiveness is tantamount to magic, and for the love of fucking Pete we could all use a little more of that.

I want to enjoy my game. Not the game of the game.

FUN1

I don’t know exactly how I’ll go about doing this, but I’ve got some ideas. Much like how we have to mentally remind ourselves not to dwell on past mistakes, if I feel myself analyzing a bit too much, I’m going to try and go with the experience rather than think about why it’s happening.

No one takes notes at a rock concert.

Happy New Year, Schmamers.

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Adam Douglas (admin)

I love you. But I’m not in love with you. JimmyJew.Libsyn.com

Adam has written 49 articles.

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