This post has pictures of the final gingerbread Tikal set, which I referenced here.

Games, Art, Power, and Me

This was the blog post that first got me wondering if the “high/folk/pop” division is actually correct. Here’s the specific quote:

This can be anything from Du Bois’s “”Thus all art is propaganda and ever must be, despite the wailing of the purists …” to the Frankfurt school’s contrasting of “mass culture” with “high culture” and “folk culture.” (The short version of which is “pop” then “art” then “craft” as judgmental terms meant to divide power along class lines – the rich and powerful decide what is art, pop is given to the mass of the middle class, and the things pursued by those without the cultural capital to enforce their taste on a large or marketable segment of society are relegated to the place of “folk crafts.”)

Want to really help me out? Critique this argument for me. In particular, provide me with ways of objectively identifying “high” art, over against “folk” and “pop” art. Then, explain to me how “high” art is better than “folk” or “pop” art.

This is a serious request. I’ve already read All God’s Children and Blue Suede Shoes, by the way.

Should Christians Join the Cultural Elite?

Just came across this and thought that I’d share.

Myers distinguishes between high art, folk art, and popular art. He rather likes the first two, despises the third. Folk art, like high art, he thinks, has been corrupted by popular art. With William Edgar (his review of All God’s Children, WTJ) and others, I think Myers’ thesis is greatly exaggerated. There is much good in popular art (though we tend not to recognize it until it becomes old fashioned: ragtime, blues, big bands, Elvis, the Beatles, and so on). The problem is not with one genre or another, but, as Van Til emphasized, the sin that corrupts everything.

I have not yet digested this article (just skimmed it, in fact), but, since I’ve started questioning the “high/folk/pop” division of aesthetics, I figure that this article might be a helpful contribution to my thinking on the matter.

Game koans

Just a sample, for fun:

Several students were playing El Grande with Kramer. One student was agonizing over which card to take. “How shall I know what is the right thing to do?” asked the student. “I can tell you what is the right thing to do,” answered Kramer. “Please do,” begged the student. Kramer answered, “You must take a card.”

If you don’t know what El Grande is or who Kramer is, then you probably won’t enjoy this link. Otherwise, well, have fun!

I feel like I haven’t been doing a very good job keeping up with this blog. There is a part of me that gives myself a pass, saying that I’m busy living life and therefore I’m not documenting it. But still, I look over my posts recently and there really haven’t been many. So, I’m going to try to do better. To this end, I’m going to start making use of the “Drafts” feature on this blog more. If I have an idea for a blog post, I’ll just scrawl it in a draft. Then I can prod at it when I have a few minutes. Hopefully, in this way, I’ll actually finish more of the blog posts that are bouncing around in my head.

I run a monthly Game Night as part of being a member of Redeemer Presbyterian Church. While this is formally a church activity, it is open to the public. We meet in a home in the University East neighborhood, eat food, and play games. Normally, we get together on the third Friday of the month, but this month, Game Night is on April 28 at 6:00 p.m. If you are interested in joining us, drop me an email at greatwolf@gmail.com for more information.

Without further ado, a blog post about a woman making a Tikal set out of gingerbread.

First a definition. From Merriam-Webster Online:

koan: a paradox to be meditated upon that is used to train Zen Buddhist monks to abandon ultimate dependence on reason and to force them into gaining sudden intuitive enlightenment

In this thread on Polaris, I propose a koan of sorts.

When the world has been destroyed, what remains?

I propose that Polaris stories are about answering this question.

I also propose that the answer that someone gives to this question is critical to determining how he will live his life.

Fulfillment

There are moments as a game designer when you suddenly get overwhelmed, when deep in your heart you realize that it works, that someone else has used your game to make art that’s meaningful to both them and to you.

That happened today.

Something bad happened to the database that runs this blog, but my gracious host repaired it. Now, it’s all better. Thanks, Bill!

(The previous report can be found here.)

(This account was also posted on The Forge. You might find the responses from the folks there to be interesting.)

Battle is joined in the remnants! Demon armies attack! Dragons clash in the air, and below, the Knights of the Order of the Stars deal death!

At last, we return to our Polaris game. Let’s get into it.

Long ago, the people were dying at the end of the world.

Quotables

“I have no control over what your sister does with her face!”

“Hey, look what my pants do! I don’t know why!”

But First, An Aside

This AP report actually covers about one and a quarter sessions. The first part of the session was on March 1, 2006. However, we were just barely into our second scene when I received an emergency phone call. William, a teenager in our church, had been diagnosed with a brain tumor at the end of January. That night, he had taken a turn for the worse. In particular, one of William’s friends at church was very shaken and needed to talk.

We called the game early, and off I went.

On March 5, William was declared brain-dead. On March 7, he was taken off the respirator. Within 15 minutes, his heart stopped. He was sixteen.

Polaris is a game of loss. This March, as I stood at the grave of a teen, I experienced loss. I believe that William is with his Savior now, but still, I had hoped to have more time with him.

Then, Raquel traveled to Colorado, schedules didn’t line up, and soon a month had passed. Finally, we managed to assemble on April 12 to play.

This time, it was a success.

Overview of Play

Sadal had gone to the headquarters of the Order of Mesarthim to seek Maia. Instead, he found Aludra, Maia’s apprentice, whom Sadal blamed for the scarring of his sister Gemma. He compelled Aludra to come with him and heal his sister. However, as a result, it was fated that both Aludra and Gemma would die.

Then came the massive battle sequence. This was very cool.

The Knights were passing in review in a celebratory parade when a huge demon army attacked. Leading them was Muliphein, once of the Order of the Stars, now a demon himself. He rides a skeletal dragon (essentially a dracolich) but is himself the most beautiful Knight ever seen. I took to calling him “the prettiest Knight”, so the group quickly named him “the Knight of Haunting Beauty”.

Altair took to the sky on Agate, his ice dragon. Being Altair, he quickly moved to engage Muliphein. A well-placed ice blast shattered the dracolich, causing Muliphein to plummet onto the remnant wall. Unfortunately, it simply reformed on the ground, shattered bones rattling together into place. Seized with a chivalrous impulse, Altair alighted from his dragon to battle Muliphein, while Agate turned to fight the dracolich. Altair drew his sword. The two of them stood above the gate. All about them, the battle raged. Then, Altair struck.

Maia had been in the grandstand during the parade, and now she was trying to escort both Andromeda (the Chancellor’s daughter) and the Spring Child to safety. But it was not to be. Muliphein had sent a demon for the Spring Child. It took the form of a giant serpent with a wolf’s head and claws sprouting from its back. Maia fought it, stabbing deeply into its underbelly. However, the acid blood spraying from the wound burned her severely, melting one of her arms and the one side of her face. Then, in desperation, Maia reached within herself and reversed her Hand of Healing. Into this demon, she poured every disease that she had ever healed. Writhing in agony, the demon died, crumbling into dust. But both Andromeda and the Spring Child were gone.

Rastaban had also been near the grandstand when the demons attacked, and so he saw Al Bali the Swallower emerge from the shadows and slip down the corridor, following Maia. He knew that this demon was the Chancellor’s personal assassin, so something must be up.

Indeed, Al Bali had been sent to capture the Spring Child. But he had other ideas. When he cornered the Spring Child, he picked her up and consumed her. But he was unable to consume her essence. Instead, she tore herself from his stomach and continued to walk away. In anger, Al Bali impaled the Spring Child with his claws. But it was too late. The change had begun. From within the demon something burst, ripping apart his body. Poppies sprouted where the Spring Child’s blood had fallen. Where Al Bali had stood, now a tree swayed in the wind. High above in its branches, the Spring Child lay in a cradle of living boughs. Rastaban crept from the shadows and rescued the Spring Child.

This is the first tree ever to grow in any of the remnants.

Sadal took his stand in the streets, rallying the Knights to his side. The demons fell before his furious onslaught. Soon, Sadal had cut his way to the side of Captain Megrez, whom he had once accused of being possessed. Now, they discovered brotherhood in the battle, fighting back to back against the rising tide of demons.

Then Sadal saw his sister Gemma, walking through the battle. Her face was no longer scarred; Aludra had healed her. She beckoned to him, and he followed. Captain Megrez called after him desperately, but it was no use. Megrez was pulled under by the demons, who tore him apart.

Gemma led Sadal to the top of the tallest tower in the remnant. All around them, the city burned. Then, behind them, Aludra came running up the stairs, calling for Sadal to wait. With a fluid motion, Gemma drew Sadal’s sword and ran Aludra through. Then, without another word, she threw herself from the tower.

With her dying words, Aludra confessed that she had used demonic power to heal Gemma. Her last words to Sadal were, “The Spring Child….”

Altair was losing the duel. Muliphein was just too skilled. So, Altair leaped to safety, calling for Antares. But Antares was not responding. He had been courting Gemma, and he saw her fall. In the skies above, the dracolich tore into Agate, causing him to fall from the sky. The dragon crashed into the grandstand, killing Senator El-Nath’s son, earning Altair the eternal hatred of a Senator. Then Muliphein moved in for the kill. But Antares intervened. Having torn himself away from Gemma’s body, he threw himself on the Knight of Haunting Beauty. But Muliphein was too fast. With a swift motion, he cut down Antares, wounding him so severely that he will never be able to fly again.

With a cry of fury, Altair charged Muliphein. His rage gave him strength, and he ran his sword through the other Knight, pinning him to the wall of the remnant. But then Altair’s eyes met Antares’. All that Altair saw was anger and disbelief. Antares blamed Altair for his wound. He blamed Altair for Gemma’s death. Their friendship was shattered.

Altair looked at his friend, twisted and broken on the ground. He looked at his dragon, tangled in the wreckage of the grandstand. The enormity of his loss crashed in on him. He pulled his sword free and slunk away, head hanging in shame and grief.

Muliphein mounted his dracolich and sounded the retreat. Quickly the demon horde withdrew. Behind them, the remnant continued to burn.

Group Input

First, a quote from Ron. In this thread, he says, “[S]potlight time during role-playing is not monologuing, but rather being the recipient of enthusiastic suggestions, cheerleading, and a general verbal barrage. This is the norm in my current regular group, and any time the spotlight-person doesn’t feel like dealing with it, he or she just says, ‘[S]hut up, let me do it,’ and everyone else does.” In this session, I found that our group embraced this idea whole-heartedly.

First, certain descriptions were the result of group collaboration. The wolf-headed serpent demon is an excellent case in point. We had established that the demon was a large, shadowy serpent in a previous scene. When the time came to flesh it out, Gabrielle was the Mistaken. However, it was Ralph who suggested the wolf’s head. Did Gabrielle have to incorporate it? Of course not. However, the entire group immediately expressed enthusiasm for the wolf’s head, so Gabrielle chose to incorporate it. The inversion of the Hand of Healing was also Ralph’s idea.

Second, I found that at least Ralph and I were acting as cheerleaders in the Heart-Mistaken conflict between Raquel and Gabrielle. Not only would we offer suggestions as to potential conflict statements, we would generally heckle them as the conflict went on. I recall saying things like, “You can’t let her get away with that!” or “Roll dice! Roll dice!” I’d like to think that these interjections were helpful. At the very least, we egged them on to increase the intensity of their conflicts.

I think that all of this is an important lesson. I was talking with Crystal about various items related to roleplaying, and she said that she often feels intimidated when she has to manufacture a narration out of whole cloth. However, she finds suggestions to be very helpful, because she is able to draw on the resources of the group as a whole and merely exercise editorial oversight, when she is stuck for ideas. I’m guessing that most of us end up in that position from time to time. Encouraging kibitzing within your group can be a good way of encouraging creative input from everyone.

Final Thoughts

Everyone agreed that this was a great session. I think that it is because each character experienced a major crisis point. The one possible exception to this is Rastaban, and that’s my fault. I’m Ralph’s Mistaken, and I probably should have made him bleed more. However, the setup was too cool, and I was actually enjoying where it was all going. Oh well.

I’ll get him next time.

But that all happened long ago, and now there are none who remember it.

Today, the temperature broke 80 degrees.  The wind is blowing pleasantly.  It must be springtime.

I’ve been waiting for spring to show up for a long time.  And now it’s here.

Once again, God has been faithful.

“The more words, the more vanity, and what is the advantage to man?”  (Ecclesiastes 6:11 )

This game was designed by a friend of mine, who was kind enough to give me an advance copy. Check it out!

Everyone is familiar with the stereotypical villain. He usually dresses in black, has dark eyebrows, and laughs manaically. He hurts people all the time, simply because he is EEE-VIL. I believe that these kinds of villains are possibly acceptable for children’s stories, but that’s it.

Why? Because it’s too simple. In the real world, people don’t do things just because they are EEE-VIL. People act for reasons that seem perfectly good and acceptable to them. So, people don’t think, “I want to be evil.” They think, “I want what’s coming to me” or “I want to be happy, and screw the rest of them” or “It is for the greater good that I slaughter these people” or “The progress of history is inevitable” or “The needs of democracy demand it”. Everyone has reasons for what they do that seems good and right.

So, I want villains that reflect this. A good example of this, actually, is all the John le Carre novels that I’ve been reading recently. In The Spy Who Came In From the Cold, British intelligence preserved one of their agents in East Germany through an elaborate operation. This required the sacrifice of two British citizens, as well as the framing of an ambitious East German official. Oh, and did I mention that this agent was an ex-Nazi who still hated Jews? Who is the villain here? The Communists or the British? The British spymasters in this story did what they did for King and Country, but I have a hard time saying that they were on the side of the angels. They were patriots, but does that justify what they did? Regardless of the answer that you give, you can certainly understand the simple logic that led them to make their choices.

I wonder if this is why we don’t believe that an entire world religion could be given over to such hatred that has been displayed by Islam.  I think that we want to believe that evil is limited to a select few, those who would qualify as being EE-VIL.  But, the reality is that we’re all evil, and, apart from the grace of God, we are all capable of doing such atrocious acts.  Hitler was no more evil than the rest of us; he just had more power to accomplish his evil.  And, you know what?  He had a list of very good reasons for everything he did.

Which leads me to this comment by Ben.  The assumption here is that most groups of people are generally good, except for some bad apples.  But is this really true?  If we are really all evil people, then isn’t it possible that we could create evil institutions, evil governments, evil religions?  Isn’t it possible that there could be many who have been taught that the American culture is an offense against God and must be abolished by any means necessary?

Or do you really believe that the problem is just black-cloaked “fundamentalists” who “hate our freedom” because they are EE-VIL?