Rummaging around YouTube the other day, I went and looked back over the Google Zeitgeist videos.
I easily get swept up in these videos, as they are obviously designed to trigger your emotions from the previous year. However, comparing 2014's video (above) with 2011's -
- I'm a little disappointed. In 2010, Google's software is the navigator of the video and the experiences, by 2014, the software takes a back seat to treated images.
When first seeing the 2010 video, I was personally very motivated to improve my software skills, as it was one of the first demonstrations on how much software could impact your life and more richly experience it. Google (or rather Google's advertising crew) show this experience through its dull interface, which our shared experience of using the software.
Now, it appears that Google is hitting on those triggers I mentioned above and associating itself with anything that happens, which takes away from the software experience.
...But just not you. Better writers than I have already taken on the subject on the importance of physical feedback in game and digital interactive in Codename: Revolution, specifically targetting the failures of the Kinect versus the Wii.
But personally, I can't see this demo:
And not think about a section of Errant Signal's review on Watch Dogs
In the final chapter of Steve Jobs, author Walter Isaacson assembles a bulleted list of Jobs’ greatest career contributions – the iPhone, Pixar, the whole App ecosystem – and of course the Macintosh, which Isaacson describes as: “[it] begat the home computer revolution and popularized the graphical user interface.”
“[The] rosy picture of Apple starting the microcomputer industry crumbles under inspection,” he writes in the introduction to his book, “Commodore put computers in the hands of ordinary consumers.”
Bagnall replied with his own list of what he believes were Commodore’s successes – first to sell a million computers, first major company to show a personal computer, and the first to release a multimedia computer.
In this way, Bagnall’s book begins as a direct challenge to Isaacson’s book, but aside from this opening salvo and fighting over turf, the books are excellent compliments to each other.
While Isaacson’s book is not strictly about Apple the company and Bagnall’s book is about the Commodore as a whole, both books have a lot in common - each author had a tremendous amount of access to the people involved in the history of these companies and saturated their book with quotes and firsthand sources, and both are very concerned with and detailed about late 70s and 80s computer history.
Commodore, who closed their doors in 1994, was the progenitor of the Commodore 64 and the manufacturer of the Amiga. Commodore has become emblematic of the shifting sands in the computer industry in the transition from the 80s to the 90s. Commodore had money, had technology, had vertical integration (much emphasized by Jobs in his biography) and yet, they couldn’t survive. While Bagnall has yet to publish a long-awaited follow-up to Commodore, The Future Was Here by Jimmy Maher, a book profiling of the Amiga, explains that Commodore just simply didn’t know what to do with their computers or how to market them as multimedia became a requirement of consumers. However, Jobs certainly knew how to market his machines.
Bagnall’s book makes a thorough and persuasive presentation of the contributions of Commodore and notably its technological heart Chuck Peddle. You can’t read Bagnall’s book and then look at Isaacson’s bullet point list of Job’s accomplishments without thinking “Well…..”
Unfortunately for Bagnall’s subject, history is written by the victors. Or rather, fans of the victors it seems.
This collision of these differing authors is central to a lot of what is currently being written about personal computing history. There’s a plethora of books available now that attempt to state who invented the computer, or who sparked the revolution (since it needs to be called that for whatever reason), or what influenced the revolution. Ultimately boiling down to the question - who was the first, such that they deserve credit?
Commodore, to its credit, is getting recognition - the documentary From Bedrooms to Billions, the aforementioned The Future Was Here, and the tremendous amount of retro computing interest has brought the company’s technology back into popular interest. Commodore for many of us, does sit as a time capsule of that era, perceiving its products unaltered by its present form, as is the case with Apple.
For myself and my near-peers, computing history is not just industry on its own merits, but also valuable because it is our personal history as well. We experienced that history, and many of the details filled in by books like Isaacson and Bagnall’s are enriching simply because we can say to ourselves “Oh yeah, I do remember that.” It helps us to explain and understanding the evolution of the digital world, one in which, we directly inhabit and is still quite new.
However, I don’t care who started it. Computer history is always a tremendous confluence of factors that assigning historical responsibility is a pointless task. Oh absolutely, individual people had tremendous impact or influence, but I can’t say Alan Turing started the computer revolution more than I can say Morris Tanenbaum did as well. In fact, it is the combining factors that makes the field of study so fascinating. The iPhone wouldn’t be half as interesting if we didn’t have social outlets such that we always had a reason to be engaged with and notified by our phones.
I commend Isaacson and Bagnall on their enormous efforts to document the history of personal computing and choosing such large subject matters and persons of importance. While I agree that Commodore has indeed been downplayed as Bagnall claims, the whole problem isn’t that Commodore isn’t getting its just desserts from history. Instead, the motivation to claim ownership of the digital age is going to be there regardless of history, especially when money, power and success are intertwined.
The above video is funny and a pratical annoyance for anyone playing tournament fighting games. Personally, I always figured there were other fighters going on in the background, and to be fair, in the original Mortal Kombat you do see a bunch of random bodies lying around in the spike pit that look fairly fresh.
But there is one more element to most fighting games that I depise besides the fact that they are not technically tournaments - no one in the game treats it like a tournament. Watch the below series of cut scenes. Well, probably don't need to watch all of it. In theMortal Kombat (reboot) there are only a handful of times when people are actually fighting in matches. Aside from that, people just try to constantly randomly kill one another.
Well shit - if you can do that just fucking have everyone do a fatal melee. In the MK universe in particular, I know Shang Tsung's a bad guy, but if all he ever does is cheat and have people murdered than what the hell is the point of having a tournament. Just have people come to your evil island and throw them in the fucking spike pit or whatever.
And real quick - who the hell are those monks in the background?
My point is: the lacking of any semblance of a tournament really makes these tournament games feel like they are awkwardly trying to fit a larger story into what is essentially two people pummeling each other. AND that's exactly what they are doing. BUT - I would suggest that there may be actually interesting stories to be had in fighting tournament games, if the designers had characters that actually adhered to a tournament. Perhaps there are different conditions as you go through the tournament, just a thought.
Now, if you'll I have a creepy island to head to for a tic-tac-toe competition...
Granted - I get why these scenes are in television and movies. It takes a dry subject and makes it look a little more interesting than not at all. Furthermore, technology always carries a little bit of mystique with it. That's fair, and I don't think movies should stop doing it. I'd hate to have to watch some hacker character run Linux updates when they could have cool graphs and code moving on screen.
But I can't get past it. There's three main issues I have with them and all of them undermine actually people becoming awesome superhackers:
Confusion about knowledge to action. There is a lot of stuff you need to do to make code work, even hacked together code. There's a lot of support programs, technical manuals and such that you have to slog through. Hey, but we got a goal so it's worth the sacrifice. Sure, movies set up false expectations about the work involved in everything, but there's not even a training montage in computer movies.
Focus on self satisfaction. It's like watching the Food Network - chopping potatoes is an exquisite experience, but satisfaction in the actual cooking, at least for me, doesn't come from softly smelling rosemary fresh cut, but from the assemblage of everything. In The Social Network in particular, the slow and overly dramatic drawing of the algorithm, while very cool, is not the point of what Zuckerberg is even doing in the scene. It's pointlessly indulgent, and therefore a waster of any decent coder's time to revel in such things.
Confusion between what's in great use vs what's in actually reflective or meaningful. Maybe this is just a hole in the market for movies where people actually withdraw meaning from interacting with computers and code, but all of this flash, unrealistic flash at that, ego focused flash, visualizes excellence within computing and even hacking, it such a false and bullshit way, that it distorts what's substantive.
Each one of those issues, ultimately deters people from computing, as they completely misdirect its value and confuse where you find meaning therein. It's a false advertisement.
I suppose people can look past it, and perhaps these are entry points, but the fetishism is ultimately abandoned nonetheless.