Ideas are kind of like stars. No, bear with me.
Stars need time to form from the gas and dust of the interstellar medium. You have to leave that delicate substrate alone for it to undergo gravitational collapse. If something big happens nearby - a quasar, a supernova - the gas is blown away, scattered, and no star forms.
Like a stellar nursery, my brain matter sometimes needs to be left inert so that it can generate new ideas. I have to turn off the podcast or the music and starve my brain of stimulation . Then, I guess it has to generate something to amuse itself. And it works! A lot of my ideas come in those moments when I'm dead bored, when I'm out of podcasts on the way to uni and my brain is begging me to feed it something. If I do, no ideas form, just like a quasar quenching the interstellar medium. But if I leave that lump of grey matter to its own devices, it reluctantly churns out the occasional star.Read More
North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when, after a daily seven-hour stretch of tedium, they finally let us loose. For the last hour us kids minded more the clock than the chalkboard. The yellow light of the sinking sun would warm our yawning faces, a signal to our brains to shut down; one old Mr Malone, droning on at the head of the class, was somehow insensate to.Read More
The grinder released a small pile of grounds into the handle. Dan tamped the pile smooth, then jammed the handle into its socket. As the coffee trickled through he steamed the milk, tiny bubbles rising to froth. He poured a stream into the cup with the coffee and affixed a lid.
Avery Overshaw was extraordinarily proud of his work as a private detective. How much of a difference did it make if he was the one doing the kidnapping, cutting the brakes, or committing the murders?Read More
The lizard scrambled up the wall, toes seeking tiny ledges in the sandstone brick. At the top she basked briefly in warmth, bubbling up from the brick and beaming down from above. Her forked tongue flicked out. A pungent odor. Human. A shadow fell across her and she dove for cover in the greens beyond.Read More
A cloud of fragile spectres drifts through the darkness.
A slow, clumsy whirlwind moves through them, carving a path through the helpless motes.
They are left battered and torn in the giants' wake, forthwith replaced.
Here at the chains of the world, the bonds that hold existence intact, you see everything. Everything becomes clear. You see the stars growing and shrinking as they draw ever nearer to their eventual collapse. You see the gases moving between nurseries. You see the rocks hurtling through the void, and clinging to them in earnest, the races, with their wars, their treaties. You can see the hate, the love, the loss. You see, and you understand.Read More
The original Steamworld Dig leapt into my heart by combining the things I like about Motherload (digging for ore through squares of dirt and returning to the surface for upgrades) and Super Metroid (exploration gated by found abilities). This game took that even further, expanding the exploration and the playtime drastically and adding some neat progression features.Read More
“That is a secret, private world you’re looking into out there. People do a lot of things in private they couldn’t possibly explain in public.” – Detective Lieutenant Thomas J. Doyle, Rear WindowRead More