The Legend of Zelda: Part 2

Let us take a moment to discuss this biggest jerk I have ever encountered. This guy:

Image from superadventuresingaming.blogspot.com, emphasis mine.

According to zeldadungeon.net, he's called Zora, and I HATE HIM! He pops up out of the water -- any water -- and shoots stinking fireballs that always hit me. Every. Single. Time. I'm pretty sure he's the cause of most of the cussing that takes place when I play this game. 

While we're at it, I should mention the whirly-gigs you see in the picture. They're annoying as well because they're super fast and you can't hit them until they come to a complete stop. Zeldadungeon.net says that they're called peahats. Both they and Zora are on my blacklist.

Aside from the frustration I feel because I'm just not very good at dealing with enemies, I'm having a good time with The Legend of Zelda. Last night I made it through dungeon number 2, and felt super accomplished once I did. I have to go back though because I missed whatever item is in there, and Logan told me there's an item in every dungeon. It's nice having Logan around -- it's like having a game guide that cuddles you while you play.

I do kind of cheat through Logan, though. The final boss of the second dungeon is a dinosaur, and if I hadn't seen him fight a couple, I wouldn't have known how to kill it. I wish I could show you a picture of him, but I can't find a good one and my phone doesn't photograph the tv very well.

Tonight I'm hoping to find dungeon 3, so stay tuned!

The Legend of Zelda: Part 1

 Last night I started playing The Legend of Zelda. I wanted to play it on the NES, but Logan insisted we get it on the Wii to save the NES the strain. Because I've never played Zelda, I wanted to have the full old-school experience, but I understand his concern.

Image from fatratgaming.com

I needn't have worried about losing the old-school experience though, because about a minute into the game I realized Logan isn't kidding around when he says old games are much harder than new games (in general, of course). I died a few times before I even managed to find my way to the first dungeon, mainly because of the jerk in the water.

Image from ign.com

I finally did make it to the first dungeon and died a number of times in there before I finally got the swing of the game and managed to walk a couple feet in a row without getting the crap smacked out of me. But then I had to master the art of walking through doors, which sounds easy, but actually requires pinpoint accuracy. I cannot tell you how many times I have walked into walls already and before I stopped playing, I'd only completed my first boss fight. 

Image from superadventuresingaming.blogspot.com

 Aside from the frustration that I'm suffering because of the game's difficulty, I'm having a good time so far. There isn't really a story at all (at least not yet) and it's not the best visual experience in the world, but I like that I'm doing something that's challenging and works out my brain in a way that I'm not used to.

The Legend of Zelda and the Symphony of the Goddesses

Last night, I took Logan to the Symphony of the Goddesses show put on by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. It was a Legend of Zelda-themed show that played music from a whole bunch of the games, accompanied by a cool video of game clips that corresponded to the songs. It was an absolutely fantastic show, and he was as thrilled about it as I could have hoped.

Image from zelda-symphony.com

Unfortunately, though understandably, recording and pictures of the show weren't allowed, so I can't share any of the actual performance with you, but I do want to talk about how it made me feel about games.

Watching those clips of various Zelda games (many of which I haven't played -- lose 50 nerd points) reminded me how inspiring games can be. An orchestra was playing pieces from the games, which a LOT of people went to go listen to. And many, many more people are fans of the Zelda series than just the ones who were at the show.

Why? Because Zelda (and when I say "Zelda" I'm referring to the franchise as a whole, not one specific game) is the epitome of what we love about games. It's a classic story of good vs. evil where we know good will prevail because we have as many lives as we need in order to complete the game. We are given a worthy mission -- go save the world from darkness and also rescue this super-cool princess. We're set in a world that is fun to explore and has a lot to see and discover besides just the parts that are fundamental to the plot.

In other words, we're given a clear purpose and the means to achieve that purpose -- something I think we all crave in our day-to-day lives.

Image from fatratgaming.com

Going to see the show made Logan decide to replay the series and I think I might just join him. Stay tuned for gaming updates and blogs about over-thinking the symbols and messages in games!

I'll leave you with this video about Ocarina of Time, which is hilarious:

A BETTER PENCIL Chapter 8: Writing on Screen

This is going to be a review of a chapter of our textbook for my Writing for the Digital Age class. I'm just warning you so if you aren't interested you can just skip this one and come back tomorrow or Saturday for a post about something fun.

Considering the only person who's probably left at this point is Dr. Alberti, I'm just going to write this one for you. Hi, Dr. Alberti!

First off, I'd like to thank you for requiring the Baron book over something else, because I actually find it enjoyable to read. Not only do I not dread my reading for this class, I kind of look forward to it in an ultra-nerdy kind of way.

Now, about chapter 8 specifically, there's a quote near the beginning that I would like to discuss. When talking about computer generated texts, Baron says that their

value and reliability go unquestioned by their enthusiastic practitioners, but which prompt serious objections from the vociferous technophobes who still long for an imaginary 'good old days,' a golden age that never really was, when texts were simpler and more reliable.

I think this sentiment of non-existent "good old days" is interesting not only in the context of technological texts but also with print texts. We, in general, are mistrusting of new technologies because we get stuck in a rut. We get comfortable with certain ways of doing things, and altering those patterns is hard and kind of scary because there's a potential for things to get worse instead of better.

But when it comes to reading books, and I'm talking traditional paper books here, we're the same way. We are always claiming that literature isn't what it used to be and writers aren't as good as they once were and that pop fiction and fads such as the current zombie craze are going to ruin literature forever. They really aren't. I mean, good stories are good stories, and good writers will always exist to tell those stories, regardless of what's popular at the time. And who's to say that zombie books and paranormal romance are always bad things? Look at Frankenstein and Dracula.

I guess what I'm driving at is that I understand this yearning for the non-existent, "better" past, and I recognize that I'm guilty of those same irrational desires, but that we shouldn't feel this way. New technologies, modes of delivery, and types of writing are not going to ruin literature, reading, and the language as we know it. Change it, yes, but that doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing.

The Ohio Ren. Faire

This past weekend, my brother came up for a visit. Travis and I haven't seen each other for a while since we're both so busy, and it was really nice to catch up for just a little while. His birthday is Halloween, and as a birthday treat, I took him to the Ohio Renaissance Faire.

We had a great time, even though the day was extremely cold and it drizzled on us the whole time we were there. Travis hadn't been to anything quite so nerdy, being a sports guy and interested in popular stuff as he is, but he loved it. Sometimes I don't see how we're related because we're so opposite, but times like this past weekend remind me just how similar we really are. We express our delight in much the same way, as well as our disappointments and frustration. It's funny, but I noticed we even use a lot of the same phrases with the same intonation.

Unfortunately, I didn't take many pictures while we there because I didn't want to get my phone wet or remove my hands from my toasty jacket pockets, but there is one I want to share of a costume I saw while I was there.

I'm assuming the photographed lady won't mind since you can't see her face or anything. I saw some other good costumes, but I don't want to put them on the blog in case the subject doesn't want their face all over the Internet.

Anyway, LOOK AT THOSE WINGS! They're stunning! I would love to make some sort of fall fairy costume like this for myself.

I also saw a pretty cool yarn-bombed tree while we were out and had to snap a picture of it. I'm a sucker for a good yarn bomb.

Fantastic!

I hope you had a good weekend as well. What did you do?

Performance, Play, and Transmedia Navigation

For my Writing in the Digital Age class, we're reading an article by Henry Jenkins called "Confronting the Challenges of Participatory Culture: Media Education for the 21st Century." The title is quite a mouthful, but the work itself is surprisingly accessible and interesting.

One of the things Jenkins talks about are the "new skills" that we now need in order to function in a media-driven society. Eleven skills are listed, but the three that interest me the most are play, performance, and transmedia navigation. Jenkins definitions for these terms are as follows:

Play — the capacity to experiment with one’s surroundings as a form of problem-solving 

Performance — the ability to adopt alternative identities for the purpose of improvisation and discovery 

Transmedia Navigation — the ability to follow the flow of stories and information across multiple modalities

These are interesting to me because I like to have my hands in a lot of different platforms at the same time, and find the differences between different mediums fascinating. I'm particularly fond of examining what makes certain things work versus certain other things on multiple sites.

Lets take, for example, my Twitter feed versus my Facebook profile. Though both are very personal for me -- I don't keep them for work -- they feel quite different. They feel this way because I utilize the performance that Jenkins writes about. I adopt different identities for these two sites, and view this as a kind of play.

Not only this, but I like thinking about the transmedia navigation that Jenkins mentions. Following current events on multiple platforms is an adventure, because each platform highlights different aspects of the same event in a different way. And somehow, I can keep track of all these different feeds seamlessly.

Nobody taught me these skills, but I find Jenkins' proposal to begin teaching these skills intriguing. How would we go about creating classes for these skills? Can we teach these skills, or must one simply be willing to experiment and make mistakes in order to learn how to navigate the various media they come into contact with?

 

Instructions

In my technical writing class, we're doing our "process assignment," which basically amounts to writing instructions for something. We're allowed to do it over whatever we want and, as usual, that freedom is a little daunting. I want to write instructions for something fun and/or interesting, but I'm coming up blank. So far, my thought process has gone a bit like this: 

What are you good at, Autumn?

Well, I'm pretty good at yarn stuff.

Ok, that's a good start. What kind of yarn stuff could you talk about?

Checking project gauge, blocking, doing a specific stitch, choosing appropriate yarn for a project, spinning...

Wow! Look at you! You've got lots of ideas. What seems to be the problem?

I learned all of those things from a set of instructions, so my instructions would be exactly the same as instructions that are already out there. I don't want to accidentally plagiarize.

Hm, I see your point. Can you think of anything you taught yourself?

Nope.

Shit.

Exactly.

You see my predicament? The worst part is, the draft is due tomorrow.

Ugh.