Lantz told me that the deepest relationship he has ever had with a game was with poker, to which he was almost dangerously addicted. “Somehow teetering on the edge was part of the fun for me,” he said. “It was like a tightrope walk between this transcendently beautiful and cerebral thing that gave you all kinds of opportunities to improve yourself — through study and self-discipline, making your mind stronger like a muscle — and at the same time it was pure self-destruction. There’s no word for that in English, for a thing that does both of those at the same time. But it’s wonderful.”
I asked him if he knew a word for that in another language.
He said no, but then he thought for a minute.
“I think it’s ‘game,’ ” he said. “I think the word for that is ‘game.’ ”
We live in a weird world now. Or so it seems to someone like me, who grew up analog.
I long ago lost my old companions: books, paper, ink. I’d assumed we’d be together for a lifetime. Now I’m trapped — and you do get trapped — in a more stimulating, immersive digital world. The change still gives me cognitive dissonance. I’m a bit afraid of the day when it doesn’t give me cognitive dissonance. Will that mean that I’ve lost some essential part of myself and I won’t be able to get it back?
ᔥ The New Aesthetic has become the new normal. You don’t even think about it until the weirdness of it is framed for you. Art!
Irvin made it home before eight and found his mother in her recliner watching TV. Most nights she slept there, which made Irvin feel like he was taking bad care of her.
She heard him open the door and pick up the scattered mail. “There you are. You didn’t come home last night.” When left with an empty space, Irvin’s mother tended to fill it in with the worst possible scenario.
Today NPR’s ↬On The Media featured a new movement called ᔥThe Curator’s Code. The Curator’s Code is an elegant method for giving sources proper credit when you blog about them, and you get to use those cool little squiggles. No downside.