• "The Whale Hunt is an experiment in human storytelling." 3000+ photographs, with what seems like a confusing-and-shiny interface to explore them – but hides a detailed metadata manipulation layer underneath. Beautiful pictures, too. Something really quite special; the "interface" pages should explain more.
  • "Still, overall, Left 4 Dead's opening cinematic is a shockingly complete primer to the rest of the game. With only a few exceptions, almost any player going into Left 4 Dead for the first time will know exactly how to play the game: they already know the gameplay, the weapons, the enemies, the win scenario and the strategies they need to get through the game alive… the only thing not covered in the opening movie is the specifics of the interface." Yes – had this exact same conversation a few days ago. Although John is awfully down on Louis, which seems a tad unfair…
  • "The obstacles that exist are mere impediments to my motion, puzzles placed only to slow me down or stop my free-flow kinetic improvisation. No time to think or overanylize, only time enough to move. This is what the essence of gaming should feel like: a sincere, wholehearted attachment to the action (or actions) that one sets into play. It is a moment where the motivation at hand is intention only, whose aim is exploration and discovery, refined. It is the escape, distilled and realized." GWJ on Mirror's Edge, and never rewinding, never looking back.
  • "Metro Rules of Conduct is a game about the awkward situation of commuting in my hometown, Stockholm. Look at mobile phones, MP3 players and breast for score, but whatever you do – avoid eye contact!" Wonderful; the art-style works really well, as does the head-bob.
  • "Melville was torn between writing a ripping nautical yarn and a metaphysical odyssey, and it shows. Rockstar was torn between constructing a sandbox and a stage, and it shows. The result was a tenuously fused work of genuine Americana: a disorderly paean to the American city, a bit of ultraviolence, a stonkingly beautiful soundtrack, a fable, a simulation, a gonzo critique of capitalism. It's a game we deserve. " Pliskin on what GTA4 meant. Perhaps hyperbolic, but it's an important signifier of this year. The Redding quotation about Far Cry 2 is also a stonker.
  • All 226 entrants for the 2009 IGF. Heard of – and played – some of these, but many are unknown. Exciting to see the list, though, if only to be reminded that there's this many games being made and funded independently, at the large and small scale.
  • "aphex twin + vassily kandinsky + doom 2" – now that's a tagline.
  • "We've seen this all before… [but] these Smule globes seem strangely different and much more interesting, largely I think because you hold the phone in your hand instead of the laptop or monitor on your desk. It's a more personal, touched engagement with the screen that makes visualizing an earth-spanning army of phone lighters and flute blowers more physically personal."
  • "But succeed or fail, my awareness of game design is omnipresent, and I like it that way. It enriches my experience of playing. The in-world experience remains my first thought, but my second thought is nearly always focused on the system, especially when that system demonstrates originality or beautiful execution. I don't think I'm the only gamer who behaves this way." No, but it requires a certain degree of awareness of the medium to think about the second; the first is much more immediate, and the second is about an engagements with games, rather than a particular game.
  • "If I only have so many hours in the day to devote to genuinely insightful things, Gladwell’s track record screams at me to ignore Outliers. At least for now. At least until I’m stuck on a cross-country flight, liquored up, and ready for a good fight." Jack Shedd is bored of anecdotes.
  • "This is a lexicon of terms relating to John Horton Conway's Game of Life." Very comprehensive, with lots of examples.
  • Ignoring the background music and a lot of Trajan, I really like this series of pictures from Brooks Reynolds; particularly, his use of lighting and depth of field. I'm a big fan of concept-series; they tend to be more than a sum of their parts.
  • I don't care that it's not playing the game or anything, there is no way in the world that this is anything less than super-awesome.

Back from Pembrokeshire

05 November 2008

So I’m back from my holiday. As a reminder: I was walking around the Pembrokeshir Coastal Path, from St Ishamel’s, near Milford Haven, to St Justinian’s, near St. David’s. How did it turn out?

Broad Haven Sunset

Pretty good, I reckon. Two grey days, one soaking (which came on the way home, with the wind behind me), one wash-out (which I mainly spent in The Bench with a book and a sofa), and three gloriously bright days. I walked about 70 miles, and managed to cover all the intended ground. I stayed in a variety of accomodation with some very gracious hosts and some incredible breakfasts.

Walking alone is an interesting experience. I can’t remember the last time I’ve thought about so little (in a good way) for so long. Days went by with sporadic thoughts – individual verses of songs stuck in my head for hours on end, and when my ankles were getting almost too painful to work on, I just focused on “one foot after another” for long periods of time.

The coastal trail is particularly beautiful, but at times it feels hairy – perhaps more so, on your own. There’s usually very little between you and the edge of the cliffs, and they do get higher and more sheer as you head north. It’s an invigorating experience, but it brought tinges of Vertigo back.

But pictures like the one above from Broad Haven sum up the real memories I’m going to take home; afternoons on cliffs with no noise save the birds and the sea, and no-one else for miles. It was refreshing, and invigorating; I ate well (remarkably well the night I went to Cwtch), and read a fair few books. It was wonderful to slow down for a week.

A week later, I took the train back to London, still going at the 33rpm of Pembrokeshire. Photos going up slowly admist the bustle, but I’m trying to keep a glimpse of what going that slow feels like. It was very, very refreshing, and somewhat needed.

(If you’re interested: I booked the trip with Celtic Trails Walking Holidays who, to be frank, were excellent. They sort out accomodation along the route, and transport your bag between sites whilst you’re walking. For someone like me, who doesn’t drive, it’s a lifesaver, and it’s nice to see different scenery every day. There’s a premium for the fact they arrange everything, and also for being a solo traveller, but frankly, given they arranged the whole thing in 10 days, I was more than happy to pay it. They also supplied a fantastic welcome pack – guidebook with lovely walking maps, OS maps to cover the entire route, bus timetables, tide tables, and a decent, personal itinerary. Would recommend, and it’s also a great way to find places you like so you can stay there the next time you go back, when you arrange it all yourself…)

Arrows of Love at the Scala

26 October 2008

The week before I went away, I went along to the Scala to see the first “proper” show from Arrows of Love, a band formed out of the ashes of Hush The Many (Heed the Few), who I’d been following for a good year or two. They were supported by the Eraserheads, a fun set from Beans On Toast, and an amazing, raucous set from Wild Boar, otherwise known as “Ed Harcourt’s Loud Side Project”. It was a fun night, and whilst I’m still going to miss Hush The Many, Arrows of Love had a lot of promise, especially in their new material. I’m looking forward to their next show.

I took along my camera.

Some photographs from last week, when I went to see Gotye at Bush Hall last week, supported by the excellent Rod Thomas.

I love taking photographs of gigs; I think it might be my favourite genre to work in. I’ll never go purely for the photography, though; I have to enjoy the music too. It’s why I’ll always make an effort to indicate to any artist that catches my eye that I’m really enjoying what they’re doing – you’ll see me tapping my feet or grinning whilst I shoot, if only to indicate that I’m doing this for more than the images. I also find that I tend to take better pictures of artists I’m enjoying more.

I think I got some good pictures; the gig itself was great fun, too. I’m liking the new sensor’s low-light capabilities a lot.

Making things is fun. It’s satisfying to watch things spring forth from nothing, made by your own hands.

The greater the gap between your own capabilities (or your perception of them) and your output, the more satisfying – not to mention bemusing – the process is. That’s why Moo‘s public API is so exciting – using nothing but code, you can create real, physical, things. Imagine that! Objects you can hold that sprung forth out of bits and bytes.

I mentioned last week that I’d worked on extending Ruminant, a Ruby library for interfacing with Moo’s API, to also handle the creation of stickers. I wasn’t doing so purely out of generosity, though; I had a project up my sleeve that I wanted to work on.

I can now show you the results of that project. Why only now? Because now, I have the physical products in my hands. I think it’s really important with something like the Moo API that you only talk about what you’ve made when it’s actually real – no showing off code and saying “oh, they’ll be here soon“. You’ve got to make the things.

Anyhow: now I can tell you what I was up to.

moostickrs.jpg

These are two books of stickers, made from of my most recent photos on Flickr. They’re built by taking data from the Flickr API, processing it on my computer, uploading it to the web, and sending it to Moo’s API. This is a single shell command. You fill out a configuration file with the important details – such as your API keys for both Moo and Flickr – and run the file. A short while later, you’ll be asked to pay for your stickers, and off you go.

The fun part of this isn’t the whole one-step thing; it’s what goes on when we process the images. We don’t just print them straight, you see.

Another short aside: making real things out of code is fun because you don’t think it should be possible, and image-processing is actually similarly entertaining, just because it feels like it should be harder than it is. Most “easy” programming comes down to processing text in, and text out. Images seem like they should be harder. In fact, images are now much easier than they used to be thanks to things like GD and ImageMagick. I had a lot of fun playing with RMagick, and it wasn’t difficult at all.

So, what did I make?

dadist-moostickrs.jpg

The first are what I called Dadaist Photographs. Moo stickers are small; it’s quite hard to see a proper photo on their small dimensions. So why not make something at once very vague, and yet also entirely precise? That’s what these are. The background of the image is the average colour of the photo, determined by summing the red, green, and blue values of each pixel in the image, and then dividing each of those by the area of the image to get the average red, green, and blue values – and then making a colour out of those. In the foreground, we super-impose the title of the photograph in text. This is, as you can tell, somewhat silly. But! It’s a hyper-realistic single-pixel photograph, and ideal for Moo’s stickers. (A quick note – I didn’t quite add enough padding to the text on these. I’ve learned my lesson for next time).

Whilst I was working on that, I had another fun idea. It turned out to be just as easy to build, as it resuses most of the same code as the Dadaist Photographs. This let me abstract lots of things out, and at the same time learn how to write slightly tidier object-oriented Ruby. Anyhow, a short while later, and we had these:

stripy-moostickrs.jpg

These are less silly, and to my mind more beautiful – they render wonderfully on paper. They are very simple to make. First, we squash the photo down to being a 500×500 square. Then, we take the middle row of pixels in the image, and replace every row of pixels in the image with the middle row. The net result is essentially a “stretched” image, based on a single row from the image. RMagick made this very easy. Like I said, I think the results are very beautiful, and it’s amazing how easily identifiable they all are.

I wrote these by first creating the image processing code. That’s the stuff I was least familiar with, and took the longest to get my head around. Once that was done, it was relatively easy to bolt proper Flickr API import on (thanks to the Net::Flickr gem), and subsequently take my processed images and throw them directly at Moo’s API, thanks to Ruminant. A small amount of tidying, abstraction, and the creation of simple config files later, and we were done.

The only slight catch is that Moo need to get pictures from the public web. I’m running my script locally, because it’s quite processor/memory intensive, so the script SFTPs the pictures to a destination of your choosing before sending them to Moo.

But that’s it. It’s one click. It works most of the time (but with 90 images sometimes chokes a little; still, it’s not hard to salvage that by generating the XML for the order yourself). Because of the processor/memory overhead on rendering the images, I haven’t put this online as a web tool – I’m still thinking if there’s an easy way to do that. This could end up on EC2 one day.

What I’ve done instead is to put it on github, so you can at least see the code to learn from it, and, if you want, download and run your own copy. (If you’re not sure what to do: install git, and then click “clone” on the github page to get the command to type to clone the repository), I can’t guarantee it’ll work on your machine, and I can’t offer any support to help you get it running, but I hope you have fun with it regardless.

So there you go. First, an idea; then, the physical product; finally, the code that makes it all work. This doesn’t serve much real purpose, I’ll admit, but it was a fun making project, and it’s hugely satisfying to see how easy it is to make things out of pictures and paper with code, starting with a simple idea.

I’m not sure if I’ll take this any further – it stands alone quite nicely – but for starters, I’m going to see if I can extend Ruminant to handle other product types – though for various reasons, that might take a little while. If I do anything with it, you’ll hear it here first. In the meantime, I hope this serves as a little inspiration for how easy it is to make fun stuff with Moo, and perhaps that my silly, surreal stickers raised a smile.