lossful_logs

It's a lazy sunday and I love it. Some of the best times are lazy sundays and today I am playing a new game called Katana Zero. Well, new to me. I'm only a little bit in but i have been enjoying it very much.

The story is extremely high concept for an 16-bit style indie game, but I suppose that isn't so rare anymore. Fun graphics, fast gameplay that's challenging and rewarding. I'm not sure what is happening in the story but in a good way. Want to see some speed runners as it will certainly lend itself to that. Early returns--9/10.

I took Lola for a walk today and we saw a man riding his bike with a dog in his backpack. Looked fun. I wonder if dogs get jealous. Seemed a little dangerous—but certainly fun.

I've been thinking a lot lately about youth--about nostalgia. I suppose I always have; I have such a fondness for the things of my youth and it seems like most people do. I know I'm not unique, but it has always felt that way. And with my son being born I think I am mourning the loss of the wild west of the tech world.

When I was in second grade we learned about Lewis and Clark (notably not much about Sacagawea) and I decided I wanted to be a cartographer. I went in to my teacher and told her as much and was met with a response of "You can't—it's all already been mapped." I don't know who says that to an eight-year-old, but that was what happened. And even with that being wrong with the then existing MapQuest and the ascendent rise of Google Maps, the sentiment was right. Especially for a bystander, a lover of maps, for a wanderlust fueled young man. There was no more world atlases with monsters at the margins.

But there was a new world--gadgets and webpages and tech filled that void. Mini discs gave way to MP3s. Blogs bloomed. Napster and Limewire and the iPod and Myspace changed music. And this captured my imagination. At the time it was just the world, but now I realize how special it was, particularly when contrasted against the cornfield backdrop of my youth. Maybe I'm just grateful or nostalgic, but it felt like I had the perfect balance of tech and access and freedom and grass.

I was just too young for AIM to really hit, but I even remember seeing my sister curate her buddy list and react to the sound bites of doors closing and the thought that went into an away message.

Anyway, all of that said, here I am burning the CDs of my mind into a new project I'm sure I won't maintain or maybe I will or maybe no one will read it or maybe someone will. But it doesn't really matter. I'm here tonight reveling in the possibilities of a new frontier, of youth, of optimism and limitation and imperfection and it feels good. As Brian Eno essentially opined, may the flaws of the previous tech, of the previous art, of the previous form, be the beauty marks of today. And, oh, was that time beautiful. And, oh is this time tonight somewhat the same; at least if I have anything to say about it.