On BioShock Infinite and Elizabeth

A side effect of playing BioShock Infinite a couple of weeks after everyone else was that I knew a zomg-freak-out twist was waiting for me at the end. So even without meaning to, I found myself digging through every trash can hoping to uncover a clue to the mystery, or failing that, a tasty apple. 

Major spoiler alerts, because, c’mon

It really only took one odd reference. When Booker is hacking his way through the Museum o’ Racism, Cornelius Slate rips into Comstock for lying about fighting at the Battle of Wounded Knee, while simultaneously massaging his man-crush on Booker for his heroics at that same battle. And just like that, the seed of the idea that Booker was Comstock was planted in my head. 

And yet, I didn’t mind when my suspicion was later confirmed, because I still wanted to know what would happen to Elizabeth.

Booker, eh, not so much. I had long ago resigned myself to the realization that I was playing as a bitter, violent man with an amazing appetite for trash can food and an apparently equally amazing tush.

But whenever I paused to catch my breath, I kept finding myself glancing at Elizabeth. BioShock Infinite is a fine game, but Elizabeth is some kind of evolutionary step. She looks and acts like a real person. I smiled at her dancing and the way she poked at every item in stores. She looks like a Disney princess come to life. Later, I grew worried when she’d cross her arms and glare at me after our trip to Paris was derailed. Elizabeth’s body language set the tone of the game about as much as the actual events unfolding around me. When she yelled at me, I felt ashamed. When she screamed for my help, I was terrified.

Of course that didn’t stop me from rooting through cabinets while scientists jammed dagger-like needles into her spine. And boy did I feel like a stinker. Decades of gaming strategy has turned me into a callous jerk. Maybe that’s why slipping into Booker’s role was so easy. In the end, when Elizabeth pushed me underwater, it felt right that I stay there. As long as Elizabeth could save herself, then that would be a happy ending.

Tuna Sandwich Role Models

I can still remember the nights at Stanford when a fleet of vacuums would start up throughout my dorm like engines revving at Daytona. There’s something about an imminent test that compels people to organize their life.

Adulthood isn’t as easily tracked as a syllabus, I suppose, because I haven’t felt that itch in a long time. But earlier this year I decided that I needed to take stock.

I started with the physical, paring down my clothes and possessions and donating what I didn’t need. Then I moved inward and changed my eating habits to lose about 14 pounds (and counting). 

Next came my professional life. I’m happy to report that I’ve finally committed myself to finding and telling the stories that I want to read.

A couple of weeks ago, I published a story about the trash-talking competitors at an NBA Jam tournament at PAX East. 

Also inspired by my trip to PAX was an article at Tor.com on what it’s like to be a cosplayer. I interviewed a couple who are making a name for themselves for their joint cosplay. They’ve embraced what they love and as a result are on their way to building future careers as costume designers and voice actors. 

But I’m proudest of my profile of photographer Kevin Russ for VICE’s Motherboard. Russ ditched his life as a stock photographer to travel the countryside taking photos with his iPhone. He’s living out of his car and surviving on tuna sandwiches, but he’s making it work. 

There’s a theme here. These are people who have big dreams and are willing to make sacrifices for them. Pretty good role models, don’t you think?

Geek Unlocked: The Secret Lives of Video Game Journalists →

geekunlock:

Is there any job in the geek universe more revered than that of video game journalist? Being Neil Gaiman, perhaps. Or maybe Portal gun technician, if such a thing existed.

But as incredible as it sounds to get paid to work in an office where employees can rub game discs over their bodies…

My favorite panel of PAX East. OK, OK, it was my only one. But it was still good.

It's tough out there for writers

Thanks to an indecent proposal by an Atlantic editor recently, the media world has turned its Sauron eye on the freelance writing industry and then flared it in distaste. I can vouch for much of the field’s unpleasantness: The pay is erratic, rejection is inevitable (and frequent!) and sometimes you forget what it’s like to see human beings on a daily basis. Haha, totally kidding about that last one, kind of. 

But today I was reminded that my fellow writerly friends — of the full-time variety — face their own kinds of obstacles. I might have a regular client tell me their budget has tightened, leaving me scrambling to fill that void with other work; but a full-time writer can have their entire job slipped out from underneath them with no safety net within reach. That’s what happened to my friend today, and it sucks. 

If there is such a thing as a solution to these pitfalls, it is to be constantly planning new routes ahead. Or put another way, you should always be knitting your own safety net. (Do you knit safety nets? I dunno, I’m not much of a textile person.)

My friend will be fine because she is a talented, hard-working writer who has built up many areas of expertise. Either she’ll find work in one of them or her track record will persuade someone to hire her to develop another. 

I’ve developed my photography skills so I can take photo jobs and offer clients a more complete package in addition to my reporting. Video is where I’m working next. If one leg falls, I’ll have at least two others to keep me upright. If you’re a writer, or even if you’re not, I’d suggest you do the same. It’s time to get knitting (or whatever) on that safety net.

Adult Cat Finder →

Are you having a hard time finding local cats in your area? Do you wish there was a way to connect instantly with one online, at any time? Now you can! 

With Adult Cat Finder, you’re never more than one click away from chatting with a hot, local cat in your area!

They even got the cat to look like it’s just doing this for the money. 

Living With Less. A Lot Less. →

parislemon:

Graham Hill trades in a life of luxury for a 420 square-foot studio apartment with almost nothing in it — and is happier as a result:

There’s a travelling trick where you make three piles of everything you want to take on a trip. One pile for stuff you’ll use every day, another pile for stuff you’ll sometimes use and a third pile for stuff that you probably won’t need but would like to have. Then you get rid of the last two piles. I bet doing this for your apartment/daily life would be incredibly liberating.

Interview with Michel Gondry on "The We and the I" →

Shameless plug alert! My latest interview is up on Life+Times and I was lucky enough to talk with director Michel Gondry and the equally charming cast of his new indie film “The We and the I.” 

Doing these interviews can be a bit chaotic and this was especially unusual because I split my question time with a reporter from another outlet. Getting the answers you want isn’t always easy under ideal conditions and with 10 people all eager to speak, few tangents were left unexplored.

But it was both warming and saddening to see the young first-time actors talking about catching the acting bug while Michel gently tried to deflate expectations. This acting thing isn’t such an easy nut, even with a Gondry film credit to your name. 

It’s a good film, unlike anything else I’ve seen from Gondry, and I won’t be surprised if I see one or two of those young actors on the big screen again.