So, I read this review of a beta2 OLPC laptop. Putting aside the actual language, the content of the review is definitely from a twelve year old. The big complaint is "it's slow, and needs rebooting every few hours".
I'm thinking back to my childhood... my old Apple II wouldn't run for more than a few hours. It would overheat and start randomly scrambling RAM. Rebooting didn't help, because rebooting didn't magically cool the chips.
This isn't a complaint about modern kids being spoiled. It's about what you're willing to put up with when you don't have any alternatives. You don't even really notice the limits and problems, because you aren't aware of better tools.
Frankly, I don't care how slow or balky the OLPC is. The only thing I care about is that it can be distributed easily and is durable enough to last a long time. If it runs out of power every hour, if it crashes every ten minutes... that's a big deal to us, but that's because we're all spoiled brats.
Of course, the beta4 is much faster and more reliable than the beta2, so I guess it's mostly moot.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
DOA4
I finally picked up a 360. One of the games I got was DOA4, because I liked DOA2 and DOA3.
I can't say that I'm an expert at DOA4, but I have now played it for many hours, and I have some impressions.
It looks like they were trying to get DOA4 to have a better high-end game than its predecessors: the priorities are a bit more complex and there's a host of new "split second" timing possibilities. They also tightened up the timing on counters and loosened the timing on throws, making the first a bit less dominant and the second a bit more (to the point where you can throw people while they're punching you in the face, which is very irritating to low-level fighters).
They also changed the AI. I find it harder, but that's probably just because I'm used to the old AI. I've always been better against humans. :P
They also weakened the floor game - it used to be that stomping on people and kicking them while they were down was a fun part of the low-skill combat. Although the moves still theoretically exist, they don't seem to be any use even in low-skill combats, which I find irritating. Even if a technique is dominated at higher skill levels, if it is fun for low-level fights, it's a nice ramp. Also, it's a bit easier to get fucked up in a corner, which is interesting at high levels (it's 3D, so keeping your position away from corners is far more possible than in, say, Street Fighter) but, again, irritating at low levels.
They also extended hit ranges a bit, which completely throws off my sense of distance, especially since these hit ranges often extend beyond the fist. That's just bad practice.
The whole game feels a bit more "turbo", which pisses me off. While the speed of a game doesn't affect my ability against other humans much, it makes the AI harder.
Anyway, the end result is that DOA4 is much less accessible than DOA2&3. My office mate tried to pick it up. While he's not an awesome fighting game savant, he did beat Art of Fighting. But DOA4 simply irritated him, because all the low-level play had been sacrificed.
Sigh...
Well, on the upside, there is a massive clarity in which characters have what strengths and weaknesses, and what characters they are strong or weak against. That's fun, and does allow for some level of handicap by carefully choosing a character strong or weak against the enemy.
But why don't they have a handicap proper? Sheesh, it's not hard to program in a damage reduction handicap.
I can't say that I'm an expert at DOA4, but I have now played it for many hours, and I have some impressions.
It looks like they were trying to get DOA4 to have a better high-end game than its predecessors: the priorities are a bit more complex and there's a host of new "split second" timing possibilities. They also tightened up the timing on counters and loosened the timing on throws, making the first a bit less dominant and the second a bit more (to the point where you can throw people while they're punching you in the face, which is very irritating to low-level fighters).
They also changed the AI. I find it harder, but that's probably just because I'm used to the old AI. I've always been better against humans. :P
They also weakened the floor game - it used to be that stomping on people and kicking them while they were down was a fun part of the low-skill combat. Although the moves still theoretically exist, they don't seem to be any use even in low-skill combats, which I find irritating. Even if a technique is dominated at higher skill levels, if it is fun for low-level fights, it's a nice ramp. Also, it's a bit easier to get fucked up in a corner, which is interesting at high levels (it's 3D, so keeping your position away from corners is far more possible than in, say, Street Fighter) but, again, irritating at low levels.
They also extended hit ranges a bit, which completely throws off my sense of distance, especially since these hit ranges often extend beyond the fist. That's just bad practice.
The whole game feels a bit more "turbo", which pisses me off. While the speed of a game doesn't affect my ability against other humans much, it makes the AI harder.
Anyway, the end result is that DOA4 is much less accessible than DOA2&3. My office mate tried to pick it up. While he's not an awesome fighting game savant, he did beat Art of Fighting. But DOA4 simply irritated him, because all the low-level play had been sacrificed.
Sigh...
Well, on the upside, there is a massive clarity in which characters have what strengths and weaknesses, and what characters they are strong or weak against. That's fun, and does allow for some level of handicap by carefully choosing a character strong or weak against the enemy.
But why don't they have a handicap proper? Sheesh, it's not hard to program in a damage reduction handicap.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Immersion
Ah, game criticism and academic discussion is advancing pretty quick. It's good to see.
But I always feel like these discussions are a little hollow. Because games are basically a set of rules and content, most discussions revolve around one of these two concepts. We're seeing more talk about balance, about reward patterns, about graphic style rather than graphics... we even see some commentary about the psychological "value" and "art" of games such as Ico.
But 99% of the time, they're talking about the game. I don't really think that you should focus on the game, because the experience is what the game is actually about.
A game can have shitty gameplay and still be very good. A game can have shitty art and still be very good. A game can have shitty balance and still be very good. It can be on tight rails and be good. Hell, it can have no bad guys at all and still be very good. This is because what experiences games provide varies from game to game.
I'm not talking about categories of play, or the four different kinds of player, or whatever other academic nonsense somebody has come up with today. Categorizing these kinds of things is worse than useless, because it implies boundaries where there shouldn't be any.
But it is worth remembering that your game is not a collection of rules and art. It's an experience that many different kinds of people are going to live through.
But I always feel like these discussions are a little hollow. Because games are basically a set of rules and content, most discussions revolve around one of these two concepts. We're seeing more talk about balance, about reward patterns, about graphic style rather than graphics... we even see some commentary about the psychological "value" and "art" of games such as Ico.
But 99% of the time, they're talking about the game. I don't really think that you should focus on the game, because the experience is what the game is actually about.
A game can have shitty gameplay and still be very good. A game can have shitty art and still be very good. A game can have shitty balance and still be very good. It can be on tight rails and be good. Hell, it can have no bad guys at all and still be very good. This is because what experiences games provide varies from game to game.
I'm not talking about categories of play, or the four different kinds of player, or whatever other academic nonsense somebody has come up with today. Categorizing these kinds of things is worse than useless, because it implies boundaries where there shouldn't be any.
But it is worth remembering that your game is not a collection of rules and art. It's an experience that many different kinds of people are going to live through.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Generative History and Ecologies of Sentient Beings
These days, games are getting larger and larger. Some games have many square miles of terrain and city. Sometimes, this is generated by hand, sometimes, it is largely generated algorithmically.
The problem with these large settings is that they ultimately end up feeling very empty. If there are people in them, they say the same boring non-things that the people in other places say. Also, if generated algorithmically, there's nothing particularly entrancing about the topography of the area, either.
Creating vast amounts of content has become one of the major challenges in modern game design, and most teams try to restrict themselves to well-known kinds of content - graphics, sound, levels, quests. These are expensive, but tools exist to help you create them effectively.
I think that, before too long, we'll have tools for creating other kinds of content, and one of the kinds of content I want to see more of is generative history/ecologies of sentient beings.
Whenever you see ecologies implemented in a game, it means that deer eat grass and wolves eat deer and adventurers eat wolves. It's simply a method for providing content which makes sense and adapts slightly. The adaptation quickly makes wolves either extinct or ubiquitous, but at least it's adaptation.
There are two problems with this approach. First, ecologies are really long-term things, whereas adventures are really short-term things. No adventure should feature the main character exterminating every wolf in the forest. Unless this is a MMOG, that's just insane.
Second, animals aren't very interesting. The difference between encounter wolves in forest A and bears in forest B is pretty minimal, and there's really not much punch to simply changing the number of critters you encounter. Also, unless artificially forced, there's no real balance: a low-level character can easily be attacked by a thirty-strong pack of wolves if your simulation is a bit more realistic.
What's more exciting are sentient beings and the fruits of their labor. These are also a bit more balanced, because the larger a group of sentient beings is, the less likely they are to simply kill off travelers.
The funny thing is that, on the most basic level, sentient beings are just as easy to simulate as flora and fauna. Sentient beings pop up wherever there are resources, just like animals and plants. They are also resources to other sentient beings, just like animals and plants.
Easy example: all people require food.
There is a gold deposit. The gold deposit has value, but miners require food.
There is a verdant valley nearby. People settle there because there is food. They are farmers.
Now miners show up at the gold deposit, and begin to send gold to the farmers in exchange for food.
This is much the same as "Grass grows where it is wet, deer eat grass, wolves eat deer". Except you're building groups of people.
Obviously, you'll want stronger rules that allow for economies, tech, trading, nations, conquest, and so forth. But the AI can be pretty simplistic. You can also have just one race, or multiple sentient races, or whatever.
Walking around in this world might not be any more entertaining, though. It would be busier, but is the difference between a fishing village and a mining town of much interest to the player?
Well, you can certainly add some easy things: the resources a place has to offer is based on what they do and who they trade with. But that's kind of shallow and ultimately uninteresting.
It's better to introduce history.
See, what makes things interesting isn't what's there now, but what used to be there. People aren't simply married. They are married because... they fell in love on a cruise? Their parents arranged it to unite their houses? There was an accidental pregnancy? It's the history of their marriage that makes it more interesting.
Similarly, a city bears its history on every street. This building used to be an opera house, but it went out of business back when this district got hit by that typhoon... this corner is the one where all the coffee shops are, because everyone walks by on their way to and from work...
History generally follows a few basic rules. An aspect can be introduced, grow stronger, or grow weaker. As an aspect changes, it causes at least one other change.
For example, a fishing village is introduced to the gold miners. The gold miners want food, and give gold for food. Gold gets stronger. Because gold gets stronger, something happens.
Maybe food gets stronger: people get into the industry because there is money in it. Maybe food gets weaker: the river is overtaxed and there aren't enough fish. Maybe a new facet is involved: textiles or banking.
This can be random, because any result can be explained with only minimal effort and nobody is going to be looking very closely. But it provides a lot of hooks.
For example, when you talk to someone, they'll be involved in one of the facets, and they'll know the history of the facet. "Well, my family's always been in the textiles industry, but the market is falling off because the gold mines are dwindling... so I'm thinking about being a fisherman. Or maybe going on an adventure."
Cities would grow organically. The docks are all fisherman's docks, but then the city grows and they are replaced largely with commercial freighter docks. You can still see the history of the city, in the layout and remaining fishermen's boats... a layout that is completely different from a city that has commercial docks without having a major fishing industry first. How fast the industry grew will also change the way the docks expanded: more rapid growth means more aggressive, larger, often slipshod construction.
With the right algorithms, this could theoretically automatically build the entire level for you. But in practice, it would still be human built... however, the humans would be able to say, "Okay, this area is mainly a commercial docks area, but there are a lot of old fishermen still around, and the commercial docks are really just kind of tossed up..."
You can keep expanding, of course: international politics, technological development, factions...
It's also easy to do with individuals rather than cities, or scale in the reverse and do it with nations or even planets. The philosophy is the same: you evolve an ecology of sentient beings and have them remember how their ecology/economy has changed over time. NPC 30322 will have something interesting to say, and city 192 will have a unique and sensical situation. You can even fill in-world books with ACTUAL STUFF instead of empty pages.
I don't suggest this is the best way to do things. However, I think it might be a good way to "flesh out" your world. You might say that city 192 is being invaded by Martians and has no standing army. The ecological simulation fills out the rest.
The problem with these large settings is that they ultimately end up feeling very empty. If there are people in them, they say the same boring non-things that the people in other places say. Also, if generated algorithmically, there's nothing particularly entrancing about the topography of the area, either.
Creating vast amounts of content has become one of the major challenges in modern game design, and most teams try to restrict themselves to well-known kinds of content - graphics, sound, levels, quests. These are expensive, but tools exist to help you create them effectively.
I think that, before too long, we'll have tools for creating other kinds of content, and one of the kinds of content I want to see more of is generative history/ecologies of sentient beings.
Whenever you see ecologies implemented in a game, it means that deer eat grass and wolves eat deer and adventurers eat wolves. It's simply a method for providing content which makes sense and adapts slightly. The adaptation quickly makes wolves either extinct or ubiquitous, but at least it's adaptation.
There are two problems with this approach. First, ecologies are really long-term things, whereas adventures are really short-term things. No adventure should feature the main character exterminating every wolf in the forest. Unless this is a MMOG, that's just insane.
Second, animals aren't very interesting. The difference between encounter wolves in forest A and bears in forest B is pretty minimal, and there's really not much punch to simply changing the number of critters you encounter. Also, unless artificially forced, there's no real balance: a low-level character can easily be attacked by a thirty-strong pack of wolves if your simulation is a bit more realistic.
What's more exciting are sentient beings and the fruits of their labor. These are also a bit more balanced, because the larger a group of sentient beings is, the less likely they are to simply kill off travelers.
The funny thing is that, on the most basic level, sentient beings are just as easy to simulate as flora and fauna. Sentient beings pop up wherever there are resources, just like animals and plants. They are also resources to other sentient beings, just like animals and plants.
Easy example: all people require food.
There is a gold deposit. The gold deposit has value, but miners require food.
There is a verdant valley nearby. People settle there because there is food. They are farmers.
Now miners show up at the gold deposit, and begin to send gold to the farmers in exchange for food.
This is much the same as "Grass grows where it is wet, deer eat grass, wolves eat deer". Except you're building groups of people.
Obviously, you'll want stronger rules that allow for economies, tech, trading, nations, conquest, and so forth. But the AI can be pretty simplistic. You can also have just one race, or multiple sentient races, or whatever.
Walking around in this world might not be any more entertaining, though. It would be busier, but is the difference between a fishing village and a mining town of much interest to the player?
Well, you can certainly add some easy things: the resources a place has to offer is based on what they do and who they trade with. But that's kind of shallow and ultimately uninteresting.
It's better to introduce history.
See, what makes things interesting isn't what's there now, but what used to be there. People aren't simply married. They are married because... they fell in love on a cruise? Their parents arranged it to unite their houses? There was an accidental pregnancy? It's the history of their marriage that makes it more interesting.
Similarly, a city bears its history on every street. This building used to be an opera house, but it went out of business back when this district got hit by that typhoon... this corner is the one where all the coffee shops are, because everyone walks by on their way to and from work...
History generally follows a few basic rules. An aspect can be introduced, grow stronger, or grow weaker. As an aspect changes, it causes at least one other change.
For example, a fishing village is introduced to the gold miners. The gold miners want food, and give gold for food. Gold gets stronger. Because gold gets stronger, something happens.
Maybe food gets stronger: people get into the industry because there is money in it. Maybe food gets weaker: the river is overtaxed and there aren't enough fish. Maybe a new facet is involved: textiles or banking.
This can be random, because any result can be explained with only minimal effort and nobody is going to be looking very closely. But it provides a lot of hooks.
For example, when you talk to someone, they'll be involved in one of the facets, and they'll know the history of the facet. "Well, my family's always been in the textiles industry, but the market is falling off because the gold mines are dwindling... so I'm thinking about being a fisherman. Or maybe going on an adventure."
Cities would grow organically. The docks are all fisherman's docks, but then the city grows and they are replaced largely with commercial freighter docks. You can still see the history of the city, in the layout and remaining fishermen's boats... a layout that is completely different from a city that has commercial docks without having a major fishing industry first. How fast the industry grew will also change the way the docks expanded: more rapid growth means more aggressive, larger, often slipshod construction.
With the right algorithms, this could theoretically automatically build the entire level for you. But in practice, it would still be human built... however, the humans would be able to say, "Okay, this area is mainly a commercial docks area, but there are a lot of old fishermen still around, and the commercial docks are really just kind of tossed up..."
You can keep expanding, of course: international politics, technological development, factions...
It's also easy to do with individuals rather than cities, or scale in the reverse and do it with nations or even planets. The philosophy is the same: you evolve an ecology of sentient beings and have them remember how their ecology/economy has changed over time. NPC 30322 will have something interesting to say, and city 192 will have a unique and sensical situation. You can even fill in-world books with ACTUAL STUFF instead of empty pages.
I don't suggest this is the best way to do things. However, I think it might be a good way to "flesh out" your world. You might say that city 192 is being invaded by Martians and has no standing army. The ecological simulation fills out the rest.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Gaming Weekend
Sometime next month, my old college holds Gaming Weekend. They also hold gaming Fridays every week. And we're not talking computer games: everything at these events is a board, card, or tabletop game, with some LARPs thrown in for kicks. (I was upset when Guitar Hero made an appearance, even though it is a good game.)
This rare dedication to live gaming is, I think, why WPI has one of the best game design curriculums. Of course, that's not really saying much, but at least it's saying SOMETHING. MIT is also big into games, to the point where Singapore pays them loads of cash to teach Singaporian students how to develop games. Harvard is just getting into the act with a bang-up new game club...
But the big thing about these places is that they don't simply focus on computer gaming. Sure, they're all into computer games, but they have other kinds of games they specialize in as well. MIT tends to specialize in the totally hardcore games like assassins and go, whereas WPI tends to do a lot of LARPs and economic games.
Whenever I see these things, I think "This is important."
Because you can't learn how to make computer games by playing computer games.
You can learn how to make computer games by making computer games, but computer games are extremely hard to make.
On the other hand, game design in general can be picked up pretty rapidly via live games. Not only are they faster to design and test, but while you play them you are learning game design.
"While you play them?"
When you're sitting around a table with four or five other people playing a game, the rules of the game are not the only rules in effect. For example, while playing Bang! it is always assumed that John and I are on the same side, even though we have no way of knowing that. It's certainly not a rule written up in the game. It's not even a "real" rule, in that half the time it turns out to be wrong and we open fire. However, it does change how the game progresses.
Live games are full of this kind of silliness - these "meta rules". Boyfriends aren't likely to try to make their girlfriends lose. The guy everyone hates is going to be slammed regardless of how well or poorly he was doing. The house rules say you can't use Lucre cards. You know Bob's weaknesses because you know Bob.
Because these rules change with every play (even with repeated plays involving the same people) they offer players a huge, ever-shifting variety of rules. Each play-through is functionally a new, tweaked version of the game.
This is not something which translates well into even multiplayer video games. While some of it translates ("Hey, Vega's cheap! Don't play him!"), it's not nearly as deep or wide. It's a puddle instead of a river.
Also, I think that these short games (but not too short) are better for learning from than longer games. For example, weekend long LARPs and RPG campaigns are fun, but the final experience is not as focused or repetitive, so you learn less.
This is why I think that clubs like the assassin's guild and the Sci Fi club (really the "board games and BSG club") are critical to the success of the computer game sections of these schools. Most of the people I've met from MIT who are involved in games were part of the assassin's guild. Most of the good/popular designers from WPI are either Sci-Fi Society members or Game Design Club members - usually both.
So play them live games! Over and over and over.
This rare dedication to live gaming is, I think, why WPI has one of the best game design curriculums. Of course, that's not really saying much, but at least it's saying SOMETHING. MIT is also big into games, to the point where Singapore pays them loads of cash to teach Singaporian students how to develop games. Harvard is just getting into the act with a bang-up new game club...
But the big thing about these places is that they don't simply focus on computer gaming. Sure, they're all into computer games, but they have other kinds of games they specialize in as well. MIT tends to specialize in the totally hardcore games like assassins and go, whereas WPI tends to do a lot of LARPs and economic games.
Whenever I see these things, I think "This is important."
Because you can't learn how to make computer games by playing computer games.
You can learn how to make computer games by making computer games, but computer games are extremely hard to make.
On the other hand, game design in general can be picked up pretty rapidly via live games. Not only are they faster to design and test, but while you play them you are learning game design.
"While you play them?"
When you're sitting around a table with four or five other people playing a game, the rules of the game are not the only rules in effect. For example, while playing Bang! it is always assumed that John and I are on the same side, even though we have no way of knowing that. It's certainly not a rule written up in the game. It's not even a "real" rule, in that half the time it turns out to be wrong and we open fire. However, it does change how the game progresses.
Live games are full of this kind of silliness - these "meta rules". Boyfriends aren't likely to try to make their girlfriends lose. The guy everyone hates is going to be slammed regardless of how well or poorly he was doing. The house rules say you can't use Lucre cards. You know Bob's weaknesses because you know Bob.
Because these rules change with every play (even with repeated plays involving the same people) they offer players a huge, ever-shifting variety of rules. Each play-through is functionally a new, tweaked version of the game.
This is not something which translates well into even multiplayer video games. While some of it translates ("Hey, Vega's cheap! Don't play him!"), it's not nearly as deep or wide. It's a puddle instead of a river.
Also, I think that these short games (but not too short) are better for learning from than longer games. For example, weekend long LARPs and RPG campaigns are fun, but the final experience is not as focused or repetitive, so you learn less.
This is why I think that clubs like the assassin's guild and the Sci Fi club (really the "board games and BSG club") are critical to the success of the computer game sections of these schools. Most of the people I've met from MIT who are involved in games were part of the assassin's guild. Most of the good/popular designers from WPI are either Sci-Fi Society members or Game Design Club members - usually both.
So play them live games! Over and over and over.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
It Was a Very Boston Day
This is a very dumb anecdotal post.
Today was very hot. So I went down to Cambridge to see what there was to see. If that decision seems strange, it's because it was hot: my brain wasn't working.
The sights of Cambridge were pretty much normal, save for the shimmering in the air. But there was something new. The most phenomenal smell. Like rotting vomit. It was the most amazing thing, and so prevalent all across the square I thought it might be coming from my coffee cup. To test this theory I walked to the river, believing that if the smell cleared up, it was probably safe to drink the coffee. Again, it was hot: my brain wasn't working.
Western crosses the river twice on the way to where I live, meaning that it actually takes you to the same side of the river you started on. Instead of hiking the depressingly urban length of Western, I decided to follow the river. After all, it would take me back to Western in the fullness of time. At this point, the heat had learned self preservation and was largely trying to keep me off of Western so I wouldn't catch an air-conditioned bus and recover my sanity.
I actually am not sure how long the walk was. All I know for sure is that my iced coffee turned into hot coffee before the trek was complete. But it was evidently a good day for being outside: everywhere I looked, people were draped on the grass or squatting on benches, crowded into tiny but overpopulated parties or onto kayaks. I realized that the heat might be getting to me when I noticed that, instead of ogling the various fleshy bits that people like to irradiate, I was carefully spying on book covers. Looking for titles that would spark my interest.
A hula party and one wheat field maze later, the river came back to Western and I limped towards home. Again, I forewent the bus, because the heat still had its claws in my head.
But it could not prevent me from searching for liquids, my coffee having long since boiled away.
Did you know that the Target eatery charges the same amount for a hot dog as it does for a hot dog and drink? It's same with sandwiches.
Madness! Maaaadness!
So then I got home and wrote a novelette about the various theoretical approaches to succeeding in life. Because I'm such a good example, you see.
And, of course, every personal post on every blog ever has to have a cat in it. So, yesterday, I was in a place that had two cats in it. EXCITING!
This is now officially a cat blog. Until tomorrow. Until half an hour ago, as it's 12:30.
I apologize for this post.
It's hot. My brain doesn't work.
Today was very hot. So I went down to Cambridge to see what there was to see. If that decision seems strange, it's because it was hot: my brain wasn't working.
The sights of Cambridge were pretty much normal, save for the shimmering in the air. But there was something new. The most phenomenal smell. Like rotting vomit. It was the most amazing thing, and so prevalent all across the square I thought it might be coming from my coffee cup. To test this theory I walked to the river, believing that if the smell cleared up, it was probably safe to drink the coffee. Again, it was hot: my brain wasn't working.
Western crosses the river twice on the way to where I live, meaning that it actually takes you to the same side of the river you started on. Instead of hiking the depressingly urban length of Western, I decided to follow the river. After all, it would take me back to Western in the fullness of time. At this point, the heat had learned self preservation and was largely trying to keep me off of Western so I wouldn't catch an air-conditioned bus and recover my sanity.
I actually am not sure how long the walk was. All I know for sure is that my iced coffee turned into hot coffee before the trek was complete. But it was evidently a good day for being outside: everywhere I looked, people were draped on the grass or squatting on benches, crowded into tiny but overpopulated parties or onto kayaks. I realized that the heat might be getting to me when I noticed that, instead of ogling the various fleshy bits that people like to irradiate, I was carefully spying on book covers. Looking for titles that would spark my interest.
A hula party and one wheat field maze later, the river came back to Western and I limped towards home. Again, I forewent the bus, because the heat still had its claws in my head.
But it could not prevent me from searching for liquids, my coffee having long since boiled away.
Did you know that the Target eatery charges the same amount for a hot dog as it does for a hot dog and drink? It's same with sandwiches.
Madness! Maaaadness!
So then I got home and wrote a novelette about the various theoretical approaches to succeeding in life. Because I'm such a good example, you see.
And, of course, every personal post on every blog ever has to have a cat in it. So, yesterday, I was in a place that had two cats in it. EXCITING!
This is now officially a cat blog. Until tomorrow. Until half an hour ago, as it's 12:30.
I apologize for this post.
It's hot. My brain doesn't work.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
"True" Simulation
I have found that, once I tackle a subject for a few years, there is suddenly no "best" rule set. An example that is coming up more frequently these days: social simulation.
Most people come into the field thinking that they're going to try to discover some underlying truth, some supreme rule set which will be able to do all sorts of social things. Most people, when they first try, come up with some ultra-generic system of addressing some kind of "social atom", like "I'll track how much they like any given thing and how much those things like any given thing and then use a logic chain to determine what the reaction to any attempt to affect any given thing is..." and so forth and so on. The end result, when applied, is labyrinthian and never works.
This is true of other fields as well, of course. Newbies tackling any system tend to come in with a simplistic approach that will solve all the problems of the world.
But there is no "best" approach, at least in games and simulations. There are variety of approaches, but the "best" approach is whatever simulates exactly what you want to simulate.
For example:
If I approach a game based around a social mechanic, I don't think to myself, "what's a good way to simulate social mechanics?" Instead, I think, "What's a good way to make the player feel the pressure and rewards of obligations?" or "What will make the player feel the contrast between the rash relationships of youth and the staid relationships of older people?"
See, the theme of the game isn't "relationships". That's like saying the theme of a game is "blue" or "culture". Instead, the theme is something very, very specific. I generally use a comparison of some variety, because it gives me a basis for the game's core challenge.
Understanding the theme, you can then decide on the rules of the simulation. You don't need to solve strong AI for this, and you never did. Trying to put strong AI into a game is like saying that you're going to build a go-kart, but it's going to have a cold fusion reactor in it. Just build the freakin' go-kart.
Most people come into the field thinking that they're going to try to discover some underlying truth, some supreme rule set which will be able to do all sorts of social things. Most people, when they first try, come up with some ultra-generic system of addressing some kind of "social atom", like "I'll track how much they like any given thing and how much those things like any given thing and then use a logic chain to determine what the reaction to any attempt to affect any given thing is..." and so forth and so on. The end result, when applied, is labyrinthian and never works.
This is true of other fields as well, of course. Newbies tackling any system tend to come in with a simplistic approach that will solve all the problems of the world.
But there is no "best" approach, at least in games and simulations. There are variety of approaches, but the "best" approach is whatever simulates exactly what you want to simulate.
For example:
If I approach a game based around a social mechanic, I don't think to myself, "what's a good way to simulate social mechanics?" Instead, I think, "What's a good way to make the player feel the pressure and rewards of obligations?" or "What will make the player feel the contrast between the rash relationships of youth and the staid relationships of older people?"
See, the theme of the game isn't "relationships". That's like saying the theme of a game is "blue" or "culture". Instead, the theme is something very, very specific. I generally use a comparison of some variety, because it gives me a basis for the game's core challenge.
Understanding the theme, you can then decide on the rules of the simulation. You don't need to solve strong AI for this, and you never did. Trying to put strong AI into a game is like saying that you're going to build a go-kart, but it's going to have a cold fusion reactor in it. Just build the freakin' go-kart.
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