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Super Mario 64 - Episode 2
08-01-2015
myke
Ploe

More Bob-omb Battlefield! Yey!


Super Mario 64 - Episode 1
04-01-2015
myke
Ploe

Miffy and Ploe take on Super Mario 64. WAHOOO! This'll be an ongoing series.


Sonic the Hedgehog - Labyrinth Zone and Star Light Zone
01-01-2015
myke
Ploe

Whoops, I forgot to upload Labyrinth Zone on Tuesday. Here you go, tuck in to that sonny jim.

And enjoy Star Light Zone straight after!


Sonic the Hedgehog - Spring Yard Zone
27-12-2014
myke
Ploe

Spring Yard Zone? Yes! If you enjoyed please subscribe and share! You'll help us lots. Ta!


Sonic the Hedgehog - Marble Zone
25-12-2014
myke
Ploe

Swish that royalist swill from yer palate and tuck in to some Arse That. This time we're doing Marble Zone on the original Sonic the Hedgehog.


GoldenEye 007 - Dam
23-12-2014
myke
Ploe

Me and the better half struggle at the Dam on GoldenEye 007 for the N64 - in three parts:


Sonic the Hedgehog - Green Hill Zone
21-12-2014
myke
Ploe

So we've started doing Let's Plays. Check it out below!


New Years Resolutions 2014
11-12-2014
myke
Ploe

Life sucks.

I need some escapism.

A new set of parameters will be nice...


On Meat
12-05-2014
myke
Ploe

The Halal meat argument. So I can get over the prayer... getting some Deity to muscle in on the killing of an animal doesn't faze me too much; although if Allah was all powerful wouldn't he just make the food appear with none of this dumb grey area? Why create the distinction in the first place if you disapprove? I guess I'll never understand the Gods... ;)

The often cited and discussed thing is the matter of cruelty, Muslims assert that their method is humane - and according to the sources (BBC News, The Guardian) I've read contrary to popular belief most Halal meat is stunned. Then everybody else asserts their method is more humane. Now: How can either party be sure? How can anyone truly gauge the amount of suffering? Not unless they've throttled every last slither of vitality from that beast with their own coarse hands. Eh? If suffering is truly something you give a shit about then shouldn't you be party to it, or abstain from the process completely? We can't all be involved in the final bestial throes of our bovine amigo Mr Sirloin-Ribeye-etc. Killing is an unpleasant business - all gore and all visceral and that. That's why it's out of sight, why so few of us are actually bothered. It's grim and we'd rather just have them anonymous lumps of flesh all pristine and arranged all sterile-like on ice in that vacuous nightmare we call a supermarket.

Sure, all this meat should be labelled appropriately to capitalise on each one of our dumb neuroses as to where it came from. After all I would pay more to eat something that I deem worthy. Let's not forget this morality thing is simply a means of satiating an intangible pecadilloe, yielded out of ethics, on the origin of our nosh. It's to palliate a pang of guilt, without getting off our arses to actually quell the source of the issue. It's simply hashtag actvisim. Pointless elitism, by all parties involved. Muslims, racists, vegetarians, myself...


Follow up to Manifesto
10-03-2014
myke
Ploe

So, I've agreed to help my colleague Richard with an idea of his. I'm not going to go too deep in to it as it's not my project and I don't want to announce anything prematurely, especially when I'm not the ringmaster. That would be bad form, there is the genesis of an idea and I'm happy to chip away at that for now. Hopefully there will be more to report on with this later.

I've also agreed to help another one of my colleagues, Bob, with an idea for a revision control platform that he's tossing about. Again tis early stages, and I don't want to piss on somebody else's chips by enticing a vicarious miscarriage of their project. All I'm saying is that it's there. Which I believe is fair enough...

I'm still finding holes to stick junk in, metaphorically speaking, meaning other projects to do. These courses are alluring, but so few ideas get out of this embryonic stage. The biggest causes of project still-birth are: announcing too early and getting overwhelmed OR not having your energy matched. Here we go!


Manifesto
05-03-2014
myke
Ploe

I want to make something communal. A community. Some sort of game or zine where folk come together and collaborate on the online experience. I want it to be geeky and have a JSON-RPC API so that people can write their own bots and that for it. I want it to be an integrated development environment built on top of Unix. I’ve had a bunch of ideas and I don’t know which one to pick.

Idea one is a Tactical Role Playing Game like Disgaea meets Dwarf Fortress. A massive map, with a shed load of mobs and characters, all of it persistent. City building, dungeon crawling - all that. I imagine the turn based dungeons, isometric, retro, Zelda-like. Players stood on switches, flipping the doors open, chucking each other across ravines, using items to solve puzzles. The beauty of this one is that I could build it on top of TCP and even write it as a web based API first. That would make it tons more hackable, and hackability is good for a community.

The other idea I’ve had is for a real time action adventure in the vein of The Legened of Zelda: Four Swords set in a city the size of Johto, at least. Elements of this would draw from Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing. Systems of growing flowers, crops, herbs, illicit stuff all over the map. Complex social interactions with every character. Perma-death! The idea would be for a slick, GBC-esque sandbox like Second Life where the players come together to build this town and it’s complex and unique history. This would require writing server software that’s a little more involved, requiring UDP, multiple sessions and even a degree of pre-emptive reactivity. It’d be easier to pick up and play though…

The third is something completely different. It is a web content creation platform built around the concept of a dynamic zine and a game jam. Everybody creates content of different types, uploads it and democratically decides on what should stay and what should go.

Ultimately I’m not sure. There are so many directions I could go in right now and they’re all equally valid. I have the hardware, I have the insight, I just need the project. None of this is set in stone and by christ I want other peoples’ input. I want my projects to be a pretence for hanging out and being creative with folk, not a means to propagate my introversion. I’m sick of sitting in a corner, hacking alone. Come hack with me!


Elite
04-03-2014
myke
Ploe

On the edge of Heaven, just behind the waking world sits a Gnome called Exhaustion. This gnarled critter sits on the very precipice of reality and chews everything up, subverting it all in his own pitiless image. The Gnome is aware of his powers, if you can call inspiring apathy a power. After all apathy is what comes naturally. Us that are left, we’re too fearful, the creature comforts of simply allowing this network of living cells to continue its interface with reality. The grimness of it all, the desolate empty yearning to transcend the pitiful wont of dubious doubt-laden sensory collage. We see ourselves as angels whispering bliss in to the ears of the masses, inspiring the human instrument to echo our piss perfect advice upon their vibrating dynamic forms.

The Gnome analogy sucks, but who am I to argue with what has been committed to the ages? I truly could commit such subpar literary defecate by sticking it online. Sure! I’ve lost the finest most refined ideas to a reformat or two. Entropy be much more fast moving than we give her credit for. There is no such thing as stillness. Our very ineptitude, the fabric by which we’re mobile, evolved, striving upwards is the very thing that will tear all realities down. The bottom will fall out and then all our shoes will be covered in shit. We keep reaching for the heavens. For what? To justify finite to our marked selves. Our agency impressed upon the cultural tapestry of eternity and to what end? To provide fleeting solace in that eternal pain when the best cure is sensory joy. Sunlight. Ale. Tobacco smoke. We invent masochistic games to keep score. To ordain ourselves richer, better, sexier, elitier. Drawing, coding, music, diets, religion… They’re games, imagined systems of assertion against reality. To propagate a sense of self in the infinitely chaotic bastard that be forever. Once we’ve breached the parameters of reality… Then what? What space is next? There is only one reality, but there are endless configurations of being wrong. However you need the initial offset to define what is right and what is wrong.

We’re beasts of perceptual relativity. All what exists in analogous, not definite. But the definite must exist. Or is it an oversimplification of reality? Both notions exist in this mind, but they’re asserted blindly, created by guts and nerve. Not by observation and method. Perhaps in being wrong about both I have helped whittle the definition of reality to a more essential core. The constant ache of this turmoil is wearing me down. The truths I take for granted are implicit, that’s why I can take them for granted. Any conjecture whatsoever in this existence I suppose can be deemed wrong. Faux. A falsity. As a form of dark matter that props whatever the fuck this life thing is, being wrong only serves to prove what is right.

How can I build when the open-endedness of everything means I can go in any direction, all directions at once? I start writing a story about a Gnome and wind up imparting the true nature of my woe. Tis existential.

As God incarnate, like all of us, I insist that the depression is the discovery of our latent megalomania. When we realise our flawed hands and minds were chewing the wrong details all understanding topples to the entropy of human will. You feel lost within your own field. Everything you built is alien. Intolerable. But like some hungry bastard or fettered crackhead you want to evoke the joy of flow. The creativity is something you crave. From your own pressure, my own pressure, the joy is lost to that feel of insurmountability. How do I get there again? It felt so natural at the time. Tis what I desire. What avenue must this one take?

So now I’ve shat on to the page and Exhaustion is working its way back behind my skull. I got my brief glimpse of paradise, I felt at one with all unloaded my solipsistic jizz all over the allegorical page. I have nothing to peddle, but I’m so eloquent about it.


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The opinions expressed in this blog are of their respective author and are not representative of other organisations or parties that they may be affiliated with. It's conjecture. Take it with a pinch of salt. ;)