GAMING: An Intro
I have been waiting and hoping for months, a little note on my calendar, telling me today is the day. Standing in line, toes bouncing, head bobbing back and forth, waiting. Always waiting. Finally, the line moves, I get to the register. My card is handed over without a thought. Quickly sign, then out the door. After an excruciating ride home, tucked in the bag in the passenger seat, I toss aside everything else and hold it in my hands. Cellophane tries to prevent my feverish progress as I grasp at the exasperating corners of plastic. With this aside, I slide a scissor along the security strip, finally able to open the case. There it is. So perfect and beautiful, this copy having never been seen before by human eyes. Lovingly, I extrapolate the game from its gripping tabs and place it into the tray of my XBOX 360. The adventure is ready to begin.
I: If Necessity Is the Mother of Invention, Boredom Is the Brainchild of Innovation
Yes folks, I speak of the classic video game, in this case a video game for the XBOX 360. Without a doubt, upon first reading this, many would suspect that I, the author, am a boy. It's a stereotype that has been perpetuated both in the video game industry and in society throughout video games' history. So for me, a twenty year old woman, to not only like video games, but to be avidly obsessed with them, as well as proficient at playing them, takes many by surprise.
What isn't surprising is how the video game industry has evolved, especially over the past two decades. Contrary to popular belief, video games are a lot older than many suspect. The first video game, titled "Tennis for Two", was created in 1947 to play on an oscilloscope-like device. Incredible advances have been made in game design, specifically: AI (artificial intelligence), "real life" physics, and graphics.
Video games were once a "sport" of solitude, or played with any friends you could convince to come over and gather around the screen. Unfortunately for me, my friends would complain I was too good, that they didn't "get" how to play, and would rather do something else- like go outside, God forbid. But with the implementation of multiplayer and networks that can connect tens of millions of people from every country and language in the world, video games have become anything but a solitary activity. Such became the ultimate competitiveness that we see. Gamers constantly talk (or type), their language always evolving. Some phrases thrown around, like "pwning", "n00bs", "campers", "snipers", "fanboys", "NPCs", "RPGs", "RTFM", all sorts of lingo and insults that anyone outside of the gaming community wouldn't fully understand. Simple differences in spelling can be key as well. While a "newb" is a newbie, someone new to a game and inexperienced, but with a will to make mistakes and learn, a "n00b" is once again an inexperienced player, but put quite simply, a pain in everyone's ass. They whine and complain on forums, on chats, and during games about how terrible they are, but will not accept anyone's help or take advice on how to better their skills. Instead, they choose to pick on other players, many times accusing them of cheating, or outright begging for items that any player could easily earn with a little work.
II: You Think You're Smart, Private? Well, Do Ya?
Because the gaming industry is geared towards a predominantly male audience, it is obvious the industry will cater to its consumer. And what is expected to please adolescent boys? Violence, fast cars, and girls. Lots and lots of girls. Jokingly said, "Video game boobs are the closest those boys are ever getting to second base, much less a home run."
III: The Long Road to Success Is Dangerous... And Filled With Zombies
IV: So You Think You Want More Adventure? Look Out For Knee-Seeking Arrows
I just decided to add this little section because they are some pretty cool sites that I found and used for my research that I wanted to pass on to my readers.
http://www.webdesignerdepot.com/2008/12/video-game-design-between-1990-2008/
Bloggerific!
When life gives you lemons... make a blog?
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
A Revision to the Final
I have been waiting and hoping for months, a little note on my calendar, telling me today is the day. Standing in line, toes bouncing, head bobbing back and forth, waiting. Always waiting. Finally, the line moves, I get to the register. My card is handed over without a thought. Quickly sign, then out the door. After an excruciating ride home, tucked in the bag in the passenger seat, I toss aside everything else and hold it in my hands. Cellophane tries to prevent my feverish progress as I grasp at the exasperating corners of plastic. With this aside, I slide a scissor along the security strip, finally able to open the case. There it is. So perfect and beautiful, this copy having never been seen before by human eyes. Lovingly, I extrapolate the game from its gripping tabs and place it into the tray of my XBOX 360. The adventure is ready to begin.
Yes folks, I speak of the classic video game, in this case a video game for the XBOX 360. Without a doubt, upon first reading this, many would suspect that I, the author, am a boy. It's a stereotype that has been perpetuated both in the video game industry and in society throughout video games' history. So for me, a twenty year old woman, to not only like video games, but to be avidly obsessed with them, as well as proficient at playing them, takes many by surprise.
-Not sure how to transition-
-I just want to speak a little about the gaming community as well... Thoughts?-
Video games were once a "sport" of solitude, or played with any friends you could convince to come over and gather around the screen. Unfortunately for me, my friends would complain I was too good, that they didn't "get" how to play, and would rather do something else- like go outside, God forbid. But with the implementation of multiplayer and networks that can connect tens of millions of people from every country and language in the world, video games have become anything but a solitary activity. Such became the ultimate competitiveness that we see. Gamers constantly talk (or type), their language always evolving. Some phrases thrown around, like "pwning", "n00bs", "campers", "snipers", "fanboys", "NPCs", "RPGs", "RTFM", all sorts of lingo and insults that anyone outside of the gaming community wouldn't fully understand. Simple differences in spelling can be key as well. While a "newb" is a newbie, someone new to a game and inexperienced, but with a will to make mistakes and learn, a "n00b" is once again an inexperienced player, but put quite simply, a pain in everyone's ass. They whine and complain on forums, on chats, and during games about how terrible they are, but will not accept anyone's help or take advice on how to better their skills. Instead, they choose to pick on other players, many times accusing them of cheating, or outright begging for items that any player could easily earn with a little work.
-Maybe this doesn't fit after all. Still posting for this draft^^-
Because the gaming industry is geared towards a predominantly male audience, it is obvious the industry will cater to its consumer. And what is expected to please adolescent boys? Violence, fast cars, and girls. Lots and lots of girls. Jokingly said, "Video game boobs are the closest those boys are ever getting to second base, much less a home run."
Yes folks, I speak of the classic video game, in this case a video game for the XBOX 360. Without a doubt, upon first reading this, many would suspect that I, the author, am a boy. It's a stereotype that has been perpetuated both in the video game industry and in society throughout video games' history. So for me, a twenty year old woman, to not only like video games, but to be avidly obsessed with them, as well as proficient at playing them, takes many by surprise.
-Not sure how to transition-
-I just want to speak a little about the gaming community as well... Thoughts?-
Video games were once a "sport" of solitude, or played with any friends you could convince to come over and gather around the screen. Unfortunately for me, my friends would complain I was too good, that they didn't "get" how to play, and would rather do something else- like go outside, God forbid. But with the implementation of multiplayer and networks that can connect tens of millions of people from every country and language in the world, video games have become anything but a solitary activity. Such became the ultimate competitiveness that we see. Gamers constantly talk (or type), their language always evolving. Some phrases thrown around, like "pwning", "n00bs", "campers", "snipers", "fanboys", "NPCs", "RPGs", "RTFM", all sorts of lingo and insults that anyone outside of the gaming community wouldn't fully understand. Simple differences in spelling can be key as well. While a "newb" is a newbie, someone new to a game and inexperienced, but with a will to make mistakes and learn, a "n00b" is once again an inexperienced player, but put quite simply, a pain in everyone's ass. They whine and complain on forums, on chats, and during games about how terrible they are, but will not accept anyone's help or take advice on how to better their skills. Instead, they choose to pick on other players, many times accusing them of cheating, or outright begging for items that any player could easily earn with a little work.
-Maybe this doesn't fit after all. Still posting for this draft^^-
Because the gaming industry is geared towards a predominantly male audience, it is obvious the industry will cater to its consumer. And what is expected to please adolescent boys? Violence, fast cars, and girls. Lots and lots of girls. Jokingly said, "Video game boobs are the closest those boys are ever getting to second base, much less a home run."
Friday, March 23, 2012
Possible Final Paper Opener... Thoughts?
You've been waiting and hoping for months, a little note on your calendar, telling you today is the day. After an excruciating ride home, tucked in the bag in the passenger seat, you toss aside everything else and hold it in your hands. Cellophane tries to prevent your feverish progress as you grasp at the exasperating corners of plastic. With this aside, you slide a scissor along the security strip, finally able to open the case. There it is. So perfect and beautiful, this copy having never been seen before by human eyes. Lovingly, you extrapolate the game from its gripping tabs and place it into the tray of your XBOX 360. Your adventure is ready to begin.
Yes folks, I speak of the classic video game, in this case a video game for the XBOX 360. Without a doubt, upon first reading this, many would suspect that I, the author, am a boy. It's a stereotype that has been perpetuated both in the video game industry and in society throughout video games history. So for me, a twenty year old woman, to not only like video games, but to be avidly obsessed with them, as well as proficient at playing them, takes many by surprise.
-It's a work in progress, but I just want initial reactions.-
Yes folks, I speak of the classic video game, in this case a video game for the XBOX 360. Without a doubt, upon first reading this, many would suspect that I, the author, am a boy. It's a stereotype that has been perpetuated both in the video game industry and in society throughout video games history. So for me, a twenty year old woman, to not only like video games, but to be avidly obsessed with them, as well as proficient at playing them, takes many by surprise.
-It's a work in progress, but I just want initial reactions.-
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Project Proposal
1. What is your project?
I am proposing to create an anthology of the evolution of farming and FFA (Future Farmers of America) both in Montana and across the United States in the past 50 to 100 years.
2. What process will you use for primary research? (Who, where, what, etc.)
I want to interview my two of my old high school Agricultural Education teachers, my advisors, back in Missoula over Spring Break. I also would like to interview several professors here at MSU. Finally, I would like to interview several family members, including my paternal aunt, and all my remaining grandparents (one grandmas, three grandpas), since they all experienced farm life around the turn of the century. This correspondence will likely be over the phone, through email, or in person if a chance visit occurs.
3. What directions do you imagine your secondary research going?
I see the evolution of farming equipment paired with the industrial revolution being a huge part of my project, as well as more intense research about the history of FFA and of farming and the settlement of Montana.
4. Why is this an interesting subject for you?
I love the FFA and it has been huge part of my life for the past six years. I wasn't raised in a farming community, but I would really like to explore my own roots there, and if they are maybe "ancestral ties" as to why I so passionately wanted to become involved in FFA.
5. What questions do you have about the topic as you enter it? (These are important because they will help shape what you do at the beginning, but they will almost certainly change as you work on your project.)
I am curious if the fact that many of the products that we use and eat everyday truly influences the farming here in Montana, as well as the motives of many FFA contests and workshops. I already know that 90% of the beef produced in Montana (some of the best in the world) is sold overseas in China and Japan, and I am curious why the US settles for such poor beef. How does this affect the farmers here? Does this call for more efficient farming methods? Does this end up being cost effective? Just initial questions... :)
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
When I Look You In The Foot, I See Your Face
When you look across a room, when you cross paths on a walkway, when you're walking in your own little world, where does your gaze fall? When walking through the world on foot, supporting every step, is a shoe. Some walk through the world with their heads down, and their first impression of a person is the shoes they choose to wear.
High heels. Boots. Sandals. Tennis shoes. Wedges. Clogs. Slippers. Goulashes.
All functional. In their own way. Even if they look similar, each has its own unique story. Each has tread a unique path, has taken steps and trails, splashed through puddles and plodded through snow that no shoe will ever experience in the same way. Whether people like it or not, shoes are an important part of our lives, even if we only give them less than a second's thought. Purple laces, or grey laces? Do these wedges look good with capris, or are the sling backs a better fit? Do these come with velcro straps?
Even with the modern implementation of cars, walking (and subsequently the wearing of shoes) is a daily task. Getting dressed in the morning, some meticulously piece together each part of their outfit, hair ties matching makeup, belts matching shoes. There are dozens upon dozens of choices for which shoes to wear and each is placed lovingly in its own spot, ready to be chosen and shown off at a moments notice. Then there are those who shlep the day, sleeping until the last possible moment. Clothes are thrown on haphazardly and shoes are tugged, squashed, and mashed on, usually accompanied by a hop, hop, hop out the door and down the hall. But they are always there.
No matter their condition or how much thought or care is taken of them, shoes accompany us every day. Those who choose not wear shoes, jokingly called "trippy dippy hippies", are thought of as crazy, because who wants to go through life unprotected from the elements of the world? Who wants to be exposed to the muck that normally collects on the underside of a sole, wants to plod recklessly across gravel and hot tar during summers that are wished to never end? They have rips and tears, scuffs and scars, but they are loved just the same, if not more so. Some are held together with duct tape, bailing twine, an extra dose of crazy glue. But that day will finally come when a wound is inflicted that even duct tape cannot mend.
The soles are hopelessly holed, that tear along the heel is too large, the rain seeps too cold through the sock and in between the toes. Laces break, heels snap and crumble, tread wears off, embroidery and designs finally unravel and fall to the dust. We ties those laces together, stuff one shoe inside another, roll in a plastic bag if the smell is bad enough, and off to the landfill they go. The Land of Forgotten Shoes. The shoes who were there for junior prom, for the first time you rode a bike, walking on the beach with best friends, slippers snuggled by the fire on Christmas Eve. They are tossed aside, mashed in the grinder, gone.
But shoes are not people. Shoes are not memories, though they may hold them, bring them to mind. They are piled together pieces of rubber, leather, cotton, and polyester, nothing more. They may have kept feet warm, may have helped to climb a mountain, or showed off those calves at a high school reunion, but it seems important to add, that those in the shoes have so much more to offer than the shoes themselves. Because shoes, without a person, are just shoes. They will tread no paths, they will forge no trails, they will hike no mountains. The sole of the shoe may be rubber, but the soul of the shoe is the person who choses to give it life.
High heels. Boots. Sandals. Tennis shoes. Wedges. Clogs. Slippers. Goulashes.
All functional. In their own way. Even if they look similar, each has its own unique story. Each has tread a unique path, has taken steps and trails, splashed through puddles and plodded through snow that no shoe will ever experience in the same way. Whether people like it or not, shoes are an important part of our lives, even if we only give them less than a second's thought. Purple laces, or grey laces? Do these wedges look good with capris, or are the sling backs a better fit? Do these come with velcro straps?
Even with the modern implementation of cars, walking (and subsequently the wearing of shoes) is a daily task. Getting dressed in the morning, some meticulously piece together each part of their outfit, hair ties matching makeup, belts matching shoes. There are dozens upon dozens of choices for which shoes to wear and each is placed lovingly in its own spot, ready to be chosen and shown off at a moments notice. Then there are those who shlep the day, sleeping until the last possible moment. Clothes are thrown on haphazardly and shoes are tugged, squashed, and mashed on, usually accompanied by a hop, hop, hop out the door and down the hall. But they are always there.
No matter their condition or how much thought or care is taken of them, shoes accompany us every day. Those who choose not wear shoes, jokingly called "trippy dippy hippies", are thought of as crazy, because who wants to go through life unprotected from the elements of the world? Who wants to be exposed to the muck that normally collects on the underside of a sole, wants to plod recklessly across gravel and hot tar during summers that are wished to never end? They have rips and tears, scuffs and scars, but they are loved just the same, if not more so. Some are held together with duct tape, bailing twine, an extra dose of crazy glue. But that day will finally come when a wound is inflicted that even duct tape cannot mend.
The soles are hopelessly holed, that tear along the heel is too large, the rain seeps too cold through the sock and in between the toes. Laces break, heels snap and crumble, tread wears off, embroidery and designs finally unravel and fall to the dust. We ties those laces together, stuff one shoe inside another, roll in a plastic bag if the smell is bad enough, and off to the landfill they go. The Land of Forgotten Shoes. The shoes who were there for junior prom, for the first time you rode a bike, walking on the beach with best friends, slippers snuggled by the fire on Christmas Eve. They are tossed aside, mashed in the grinder, gone.
But shoes are not people. Shoes are not memories, though they may hold them, bring them to mind. They are piled together pieces of rubber, leather, cotton, and polyester, nothing more. They may have kept feet warm, may have helped to climb a mountain, or showed off those calves at a high school reunion, but it seems important to add, that those in the shoes have so much more to offer than the shoes themselves. Because shoes, without a person, are just shoes. They will tread no paths, they will forge no trails, they will hike no mountains. The sole of the shoe may be rubber, but the soul of the shoe is the person who choses to give it life.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
When I Look You In The Foot, I See Your Face
-DRAFT VERSION-
When you look across a room, when you cross paths on a walkway, when you're walking in your own little world, where does your gaze fall? Everyone walks through the world and on their feet, supporting every step, is a shoe. Some walk through the world with their heads down, and their first impression is of a person are the shoes they choose to wear.
High heels. Boots. Sandals. Tennis shoes. Wedges. Clogs.
All functional. In their own way. Even if they look similar, each has its own unique story. Each has tread a unique path, has taken steps and paths, splashed through puddles and plodded through snow that no shoe will ever experience in the same way.
-NOT FINAL-
When you look across a room, when you cross paths on a walkway, when you're walking in your own little world, where does your gaze fall? Everyone walks through the world and on their feet, supporting every step, is a shoe. Some walk through the world with their heads down, and their first impression is of a person are the shoes they choose to wear.
High heels. Boots. Sandals. Tennis shoes. Wedges. Clogs.
All functional. In their own way. Even if they look similar, each has its own unique story. Each has tread a unique path, has taken steps and paths, splashed through puddles and plodded through snow that no shoe will ever experience in the same way.
-NOT FINAL-
Sunday, February 12, 2012
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