Hypercompendia

Without yet getting into the statistics of how many and who–let's just say there are a lot–subscribes to the various services of online gaming and posting, I've been considering the interaction within groups as well as the individual adjustments one may make in presenting an online personality. Is it so very different than the mental calisthenics we go through just walking out our front door every morning?

From our toddler days onward we learn that behavior must be modified to suit society. Basically I believe that we approach our own molding of beliefs, ideals, goals, and interactive dealings with a conform or rebel attitude on each new event experienced. But even rebels get lonely.

What social networking on the internet allows is a meeting place for that rarity, a mind that matches our own patterns and interests and passions that we don't find in our family circle or schoolmates and co-workers. Very often, the real "you" comes out not in the nine to five cubicle, where in fact the roleplaying is switched on, but rather it is in the private at-home segment of our lives where Sir Lancelot or Dr. Manhattan emerge. With a click of a mouse, we can freely walk in a world without the mask we don in public. And, we can take it as far as we care to expand.

There is a basic human need for companionship and internet-based groups are in such proliferation and diversity that we're bound to find a place to fit in. One of the main reasons for a weblog to go belly-up is the difference between expectations and the reality of visitors to the site. We need to be loved. We seek approval. If we're being true to ourselves on our blogs, it's as hurtful to see non-acceptance or a lack of enthusiasm as not being invited into the circle of the perceived in-crowd of reality. But if the freedom of anonymity online makes us suddenly dare to be terribly witty, erudite, perceptive, or outrageous, and it brings us an audience, well, that's where the heart will linger.

There is a double-edged sword to the creation of an online persona however. Deep down inside we know that our "friends" are either rather easily fooled, or if we're presenting our souls, that these people will never feel the touch of our hand, see our smile (caveat here, since images and video are a part of many services). Or worse, that nobody likes us online either.

Ah, an example. In Part I I stated:

In reading through Brendan's posting on his experience in Second Life, this catches my eye:

Brendan found what he was looking for–though out of curiosity rather than desire–and entered a hypersexed cyber cafe. He is studying this virtual world, learning about the way it works and maybe, maybe getting some idea of the real players behind their avatars. He is correct in thinking that Second Life is pure escapism–the name of the game surely tells us that clearly enough. But can you find peace and happiness in such a world or is it more peopled by the voyeuristic or sadistic and seedy-sided part of human nature? What is the ratio of good guys to bad guys in the virtual world as well as the players who make it up?

I do wonder about the comparison of good and evil in something like Second Life to the real world; are we just as bad except we don't have the telltale outfit to wear?

Man's nature, I believe, is based on survival and his instincts are driven by this "after me comes you" attitude. Luckily in the real world most of us can get by without resorting to our baser natures. We don't punch the idiot who cuts us off in line but fume silently or may try making a comment that won't get us punched in the nose instead. But in Second Life, we can act on our instincts. Is this good? Is it a way to vent harmlessly? Or is it reviving those feelings long controlled through learned response and will these work their way into our real world behavior.

There's no doubt in my internet-reliant mind that social networking has some tremendous benefits to mankind. There's no match to it as far as locating the widest possible array of information and opinion of individuals upon a single focused topic. The ease and accessibility of communication is a matter of minutes rather than hours or days or weeks. Drilling down within a grouping can create a more specific arena for discussion.  Some who would have absolutely no hope of finding what they were seeking have almost limitless opportunity to connect with someone who can help.

I've always felt that the timespan of my parents' lives (Dad: 1911 – 2004; Mom: 1912 – 2002) was one of the most actively advancing eras. Horses became cars became jets; telephones became email; libraries became instantaneous fonts of information online. Never once, in all my long discussions with my Dad about changing times was he ever insistent about "the good old days," but rather he welcomed the technology and was awed by what it provided.

What my Dad did miss, however, was the intimacy of face-to-face dealing with others. He wouldn't go so far–and neither will I–as to bypass the
real live clerks at the supermarket to have his purchases read by a
talking scanner.Even there, he noticed a kind of glassy-eyed response that came close to mimicking the monitor of the "quick-scan" computer "clerk." When I set him up with a computer (at age 90) and explained email, I could see him worrying that his girls wouldn't be calling or coming over as often.

As with all improvements by invention, much is gained, but we'd be fools to believe that something is not as well, lost. The car put an end to horses and farriers and the bond between man and animal (though some Lamborghini owners are known to stroke their cars). The airplane put a serious dent in cross country travel and talking to the guy sitting next to you at some small diner in West Podunk, Indiana. Some of this loss is perfectly acceptable and some of it is lamentable, but change is definitely a cause and effect in itself.

More good: In particular for kids who can talk with their peers and learn new things about cultures directly from a child halfway across the globe. For the elderly, who might have little communication if it weren't for the power of internet groups and places such as Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Plerk, weblogs, etc. and to a greater degree, email with relatives in this more scattered family society. Shut-ins, the disabled, the hopelessly shy, the outsider in school; all these have a chance at friendships and sharing interests that would not be as readily available if it were not for networking systems. Who would've thought that some of us might almost envy Bubbleboy? Business networking saves time, money, travel (though you wouldn't know it from the state the corporate world is in.)

I'll get to The Bad and The Ugly eventually, but I might choose to explore the various organized networks online to a better depth to find perhaps some statistics on their use, their growth, and their future.

(Some thoughts on this originally posted on Spinning: The Pros and Cons of Social Networking)

Many years ago I belonged to a global group called The Society of Creative Anachronism. As Lady Susanna of Rivendell (the title of 'Lady' conferred upon me by the East Kingdom for achieving Grand Master Bowman status [medieval times didn't concern themselves with the problem of gender-specific labels]) I ran around in leather and fur, fed a horde of seventy folk camped out in our backyard (living with Sir David at the time), stumbled around camps in the wee hours shouting "Rape, pillage, and burn!" and traveled to Pennsylvania for annual war.

The SCA is still alive and well–though I no longer play–and is only one of many such playacting groups that people take part in on weekends or whenever they wish to escape into another world away from desks, numbers, bosses, and traffic. I used to try and guess why particular people joined these things, the Trekkies, Dungeons and Dragons, etc.; it seems that it allowed them to get one step closer into fantasy life than movies, tv, and daydreaming could offer. It allowed one to pick and choose a lifestyle, without the restraints of reality.

Nowadays, we can do this so much more easily by internet connections and in particular, online gaming, creating a persona that is not inhibited by our own physical limitations, open to whatever our minds can conceive. Think World of Warcraft, Second Life where you don't have to be sixty years old, or be overweight or covered in acne, or a timid mouse that folks push around in reality. Our weblogs may be personal sharing, and yet they need not be really us but instead, a product of our imagination as to what we wish to present to the public. We may seek out groups to join via weblog communities, or social networking such as MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, or any of the growing number of specific and topical groupings formed by like minds seeking each other.

More later, but I'm leading up to the world getting smaller via internet connection even as it separates us in society.

While going through some student work, I've also been made aware that the winners of IF 2008 have been announced and have tried to at least take a couple steps around in each.

One thing I'm noticing is that either I'm still lousy at IF, or I've just no patience for guessing games. When I ask to "x table" and I get "I see no such thing" after it specifically mentioned a table, I'm outta there. I still remember my frustration with Photopia trying to get out of a room and realized that I didn't know enough to "fly" though I did resort to "cry."

I think that with experience of playing comes a more adept manner of playing and a better vocabulary at the ready. After the holidays, I usually take some time to relax and explore areas that I never seem to have time to put the effort into. IF will be on the January agenda.

At this semester’s New Media Class at Tunxis CC, Steve Ersinghaus and John Timmons have led their students into hypertext and now into creating IF using Inform 7. I’m just starting to play around with the student projects and this one, by Max Hampe, looked fairly simple, with only one exit and the quest to find a tv remote. There appeared to be no danger here, so I boldly went forward:

…which allowed me to step in and die within the first few moments of the game.
Yep, I fell for the “it looks too easy” that was cleverly used:

What a hoot!

Back to playing mindless games of Solitaire and I'm sorry I ever found one to put on my Mac. That, and MahJong are my downfall. Then I realize that in the feeling guilt of the time wasted, there's at least one thing to be learned: the type of game, and the gameplay, tells much about the player.

Studies and research have been done, but there's nothing like empirical knowledge to set the mind humming along the different paths of observation. I can only see my own traits by way of choices.

I want something fast and mindless; my mind is elsewhere, perhaps writing a story or figuring out life (!), so I tend towards the games that are played without concentration. It's like driving a car, where you need not know how far to turn the wheel to make a corner. Hands and eyes and judgment are all fine-tuned by experience to make the connections without conscious calculations. Indeed, a different part of the brain is likely at work here, pulling out files that tell the hands what to do, while the mind concentrates on other things.

Another thing I've learned, while I am competitive with myself, against my own standards or gauges to achieve rather than anyone else's to match or beat, I find that unless I'm beating a time standard or point value, I tend to leave a game unfinished the instant I know I'm going to win. I realize that with this new edition for Mac of Solitaire, for example, there is no scoring, so there is no reason for me to go through all the placement of cards and waste that time. I've seen other people go all the way through each and every time–maybe they like watching the visuals of the win.

Anyhow, I'm getting antsy for going back into graphical games. I lean, I think, towards strategy, yet I don't like the racing or fighting to stay alive. Visuals are exciting enough–when well done. Silent Hill scared me away with those skin-stretchy things that ran after and killed me many times, and I've got several new ones that I haven't even put on the computers yet. Still, through Brendan's site, and through Mark's praise on his blog, I'm considering downloading Spore.

Steve Ersinghaus reminds us of the late June Hypertext '09 conference to be held in Torino, Italy. Steve will be part of the program committee and headed a workshop at the Hypertext '08 event in Pittsburgh, PA this past summer. Mark Bernstein of Eastgate Systems is once again chairing the Hypertext and Community Track.

Deadlines are fast approaching for submission of papers so check out the site for information if you are planning on submitting a proposal or attending this exciting event.

It was just a month or so ago that I mentioned somewhere an idea of a computer game that mimicked surgery, showing the inside of the human body that can both be a learning experience and a fun (buzzer sounds–you've nicked an artery!) playing game. Now don't scowl at me; there was a game called Operation by Hasbro that's still in existence after many decades.

But the reality has come to pass, and it's for real surgeons. As a learning tool, I would think it's a marvelous idea, and as a focus on individual surgery, it's got to be an aid that can greatly enhance the chances of sucessful surgery. After all, with so many more surgeries becoming the less-invasive robotic method, this would seem a natural pre-op measure.

Now, someone should come up with a reasonable version for those budding surgeons out there.

Thinking I was downloading just a game, I ended up in the online “Wild West” game and chose the name Quinton Garcia. I’m a gunfighter.

Unfortunately, I’m not real quick on the draw so I’m likely to get shot dead in the streets the second I poke my nose out.  I am a handsome devil though: