Okay, sure, in the brains of horny consumers you MIGHT find a link between CARS and sex. But MODEMS?
I have previously mentioned the trashy nature of early British computer magazines. This advertisement is from a publication which positioned itself as more respectable than the rest ("Your Spectrum," January 1984), but I guess you can't pick your advertisers. And maybe there IS something sexy about modems that I've never noticed before...it's an acoustic coupler, after all.
Many years in the making, "Sruel Quay" is finally here...a last scraping together of UPhold music that's been languishing during the last few years. You can get it as a free download from Bandcamp, including some beautiful cover and back artwork (photographs by Patrick, design by Dave McEwen), or you can just listen to the whole thing online if you're so inclined!
So what's the story? When I first started to use Logic Express 6 in 2003, I went through the usual learning curve of trying out a whole bunch of grand concepts that I couldn't complete at the time. As my knowledge and skill increased I started newer projects, which eventually became the "Damage" and "Roade" albums. Meanwhile, those early songs languished, getting further and further down the date-sorted list of "Multitrack" projects on my hard drive.
Then I bought a new, spiffy iMac, and while I saved money to eventually buy Logic Studio 8 for it, I decided to go back to the old eMac and finish off those songs before the hard drive disintegrated. I spent about a year dredging up 6-year-old songs and reworking them with the new experience and distance I'd acquired: "Bomb," "Devil Woman!", "Foozebox," "Humpback Forty-Four," and "The Swive (Part One)" were the results, and I planned to finish off a few more and release them as "False Memory Syndrome."
The problem was, by the time I'd finished these songs I'd finally started work with Logic 8, and I was no longer satisfied with how those dinosaurs sounded. They all relied on plugins I could no longer acquire (Pluggo and Mode) so I couldn't continue working on them with the new computer...they were frozen in time and technology. To make them even marginally better I'd need to spend more effort on them than I felt they deserved.
In addition, I'd created a remix ("Roadbird") from the "Roade" album, and a remix of THAT remix with Chad Faragher. I also had a new song ("The Voyage of HMCS Thumpy") that I was spending so much time working on a video for that I simply got sick of it.
These were the bits and pieces I had lying around. What they all had in common was that they either couldn't be further improved due to technological limitations (both "Roadbird (Metal Mix)" and "Voyage of HMCS Thumpy" had ham-fisted mastering attempts so burned into their original tracks that they'd be very difficult to rescue) or had appeared on CDs from other venues (eg. "Shut the Fuck Up Delia/Dmitri," which I think is probably the best thing I've ever done...I wouldn't change a note).
In short: they were good enough to release, but generally fell short of what I'd expect people to PAY for. Like I said, I COULD improve them if I spent a lot of time and effort, but the improvement would be so marginal that it wouldn't justify the work.
With all that in mind, I hope you enjoy these oddities! They're a farewell to "UPhold" and the old ways of doing things. They sum up six years of my life: a time of personal exploration, sudden world experience, half-assed notoriety, and -- most obvious in many of the songs -- a degree of self-destructive too-much-fun behaviour that peaked and then subsided.
I'm surprised at how well "Sruel Quay" holds together as an album, and I look forward to what the first "Lemurian Congress" release will sound like!
Mac users have a wonderful resource called "Time Machine." It automatically backs up and maintains your files in a series of memory-efficient snapshots, allowing you to quickly resurrect a file or -- as I had to do -- recover from a total hard drive failure. It's an integral part of the operating system and it runs without you ever realizing it, doing its essential work in the background. The only time you need to know about Time Machine is when you need to find an older file.
When Time Machine works, it is an amazingly-engineered godsend. But when it DOESN'T work, it's a freaking NIGHTMARE.
You see, sometimes the external backup drive can become inaccessible -- hard drives aren't perfect and neither are their connections -- but if this happens during a critical period of Time Machine's operation, the drive just...hangs, leaving Time Machine in an endless "Calculating Changes" state. If you try to cancel Time Machine it gets stuck in an even MORE endless "Canceling" loop. You cannot access the disk and you cannot cleanly unmount it. You cannot reboot the computer. The disk just sits there...and Time Machine -- along with its bosom buddy Finder -- just keeps trying to shake it, like a dog who won't let go of something gross no matter how many times you chastise it.
I have tried EVERYTHING to fix this -- troubleshooting steps, killing processes -- and the ONLY thing that works is the one thing you're supposed to never, ever do: forcibly turning the drive off. By doing this you risk corrupting all your data, but there's simply no other solution: it's either that or keep your computer on forever while Time Machine keeps saying "Almost done! One more second!"
This used to happen to me at least once a day, when I had the hard drive daisychained through my Presonus Firestudio Project hardware. After I swapped the order and put the hard drive FIRST in the chain, and also changed my System Preferences so the drive is never sent to sleep, everything's been fine...
...until this morning, after a week or so. Had to turn off the drive and reboot. Just like the old days.
I have no doubt that this STARTS as a drive issue (it's an Elephant Storage device) but I can't help wondering: what sort of operating system can't recover from something like this? I know, I know, operating systems aren't perfect, and Mac OS is otherwise beautifully stable...but this problem has been happening since Leopard (and before, if you believe the forums), and nobody has stepped in with a piece of code that says "If external drive will not respond after X minutes, pop up a message that tells the user there's a problem and request direction. If user chooses to stop waiting for the drive to respond, then shut down Time Machine, forcibly kill any processes that are still trying to access the drive, forcibly unmount the external drive, and tell users to set up their Time Machine again and that a reboot of the drive may be necessary."
Yeah, easier said than done maybe. But there is NO excuse for an endless loop that requires drastic user intervention just to turn the system off, especially not when such users might not be particularly computer-savvy.
Time Machine, I love you, but you're too damn stubborn.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's the newly-updated and fully-equipped Barracks Home Studio.
I've splurged a bit during the last few weeks. Errrr, actually, I've splurged quite a lot. My desire to raise my setup to the next level -- a level capable of semi-pro mastering -- has opened the floodgates in a terrifying way: when you find out how little you know, you also find out how much more you NEED.
Replace "Need" with "Want," if you like.
But my mixing and mastering quest will be detailed in another post. For now, this is where my studio stands today. And like an egocentric goof I'm going to tell you what's inside, in order of when it was acquired (more or less).
Akai S700 Sampler: The first instrument I bought that I still actually use, though its disk drive died several years ago. I picked this up mid-90s from Sherwood Music so I could hold my own within Mindsculpture, a band I was in at the time. It's incredibly easy to use, has a large sample capacity, and sounds pretty damn good...but the single mono out reduces its usefulness unless you're manually playing the thing.
Tascam Portastudio 424 Cassette 4-track: My second 4-track, after the first one suffered a tragic head loss. Most of my old pre-DAW music was recorded on this thing. Effect sends and returns, variable speed control, 2-band EQ, and extremely smooth operation. For a while I used it as a mixer and a pre-amp, but it's so noisy that it's almost useless. Now I just use it to get at my old master tapes.
DOD Digital Delay System R-910: I don't remember where I got this, which makes the following fact even stranger: it has almost no online presence whatsoever. No pictures. No manuals. No description. That's strange because it's so much fun! You can change your effects (flange, chorus, double, and echo) on the fly, apply a repeat hold, change all your settings smoothly...it's a real-time dub monster! Strictly monophonic, however, and it sounds a bit sharp. Here's a picture:
Ensoniq ESQ-1 Keyboard: About five years ago my neighbours had a garage sale, and this was the little gem they were selling FOR TEN DOLLARS. They were unable to get any sound out of it so they assumed it was broken (they were plugging a stereo headphone jack into the right mono port, no doubt), and I gleefully gave them twenty for it because I hated to see them get ripped off. Well, the battery immediately died (which is a huge deal for these keyboards), which also erased all the presets. I splurged on a Syntaur soundset cartridge and was back in business. It sounds weird and complicated in all the right ways, but I have yet to really devote the time to explore it. Downsides: you can't smoothly edit sounds while you play them, and there is no MIDI thru.
Korg NanoPad, NanoKontrol, and NanoKey Controllers: They certainly have their uses, but I get frustrated having to FIGHT them so often. Whether it's flaky detection thanks to their custom USB drivers, or an inability for their Kontrol Editor to update the devices occasionally, or keys getting stuck on they keyboard...well, you DO get what you pay for, and I certainly still use them. Here's my recent assessment.
Lexicon MX300 Effects Processor: I use this mainly for lush stereo reverb applied selectively to the mix, not to alter individual tracks...but now I can be more flexible because of...
...the Presonus Firestudio Project 10x10 Firewire Interface: I've upgraded from the old 4x6 Firebox, for the simple reason that I was craving more effect send/receive capability. It's working perfectly and was an easy transition from the Firebox. Its editing software is SO simple, and it doesn't run NEARLY as hot as the Firebox (though maybe that's because it has a bigger surface area). Anyway, this is the lynchpin of the new studio setup.
Vox ToneLab LE pedal/effects/amp modeler: I bought this from my father and am only now really exploring it. I've had some bad impressions so far with a consistently harsh digital distortion, but that may be because of my source material, my amp settings, or my volume setup (probably all three). The expression pedal is beautiful just on its own for adding dynamics to a synth pad.
Beyerdynamic DT 990 Pro Headphones: These started me on this upgrade project, because they revealed to me everything that was deficient about my equipment and my technique. Some things you don't WANT to hear, unless you have the means to fix them! Now I do.
iZotrope Ozone 4 Mastering Plugin: Do you want to know how much better and more professional your music can sound? Just try the demo. I can vouch that it operates just as sweetly as you can imagine. Even if you aren't trying the product, you should read their "Mastering with Ozone" guide, which is FULL of tips, information, and explanations for the neophyte mastering student.
KRK Rokit 5 G2 Close-Field Studio Speakers: I bought these today to finally bring my studio to a functional state. They're small (and I need to elevate them about two feet somehow) but they give an even tone that's far beyond anything I've ever owned before.
How does all this fit together? Basically I use Logic Pro as the central hub, with the Firestudio Project as a router for all my effects, external equipment, and monitoring options. It's a beastly patchwork of equipment but it all fits together now, and my hope is that I can finally CRAFT some music instead of simply hacking away at it.
Several projects are on the go, including a few collaborations that are far outside my comfort zone. More on that soon!
After two friends lost all their hard-earned data in two separate incidents back in March, I was frightened enough to buy an external hard drive and start using the Macintosh "Time Machine" feature. Since then it has been making hourly backups of my entire system state, usually done so quietly that I don't even know it's happening.
I didn't think I'd ever need to USE the backups...until my house had a brief and sudden power outage yesterday morning. You know how some outages sound BAD, like they've involved some sort of surge? This one was like that.
Shortly afterward my Mac began to slooooow doooooooooooowwwwwn. Every action took several minutes to complete, and woe to the user who tried to multitask. I spent all afternoon trying to diagnose the problem...I ran hardware diagnostics, I repaired the hard drive. Meanwhile my poor belaboured computer was showing a "broken folder" icon every second time I tried to boot it.
I finally decided that the power outage/surge had scrambled my hard drive. Or something. I set the system to restore itself back to its previous good state, and three hours later here I am, with all my data still intact and a computer that seems healthy enough. If I hadn't had steady backups enabled I would have needed to reinstall EVERYTHING: the operating system (and updates), the hardware drivers for all my gadgets, the software I use constantly...I would have needed to LICENSE all that software again. And all my music, writing, and other essential projects? Gone.
So please let this post frighten you. Spend a bit of money on a hard drive, and if you've got a Mac, simply enable Time Machine. It will save your bacon someday!
My "map the Dunjonquest games" project was going fine until I hit level 8 of Hellfire Warrior. Not only does it feature some tricky "room connection" puzzles in the middle of the Great Plain, but it does not provide you with any room numbers. Even though I knew I'd still be able to solve the puzzle, it reduced my chances of ever being even remotely certain that the whole level was mapped. What would be the point of a half-assed job?
Well yeah, there'd be a point, but it would still be discouraging. So tonight I dove back into the Hellfire Warrior code -- which is very similar to the Temple of Apshai code -- and made a few changes.
Here are the things I've learned by poking around (literally). Some of them are generalizations based on Hellfire and Apshai that I haven't fully checked, so take them with a grain of salt.
The Files
"Temple of Apshai" contains the following files:
TEMPLE.PRG - The Innkeeper program TEMPLE.DUN - The Dunjonmaster program TEMPLE.PT1 to .PT7 - Files .PT3 to .PT6 are the data for levels 1-4, but the other .PT files are a mystery to me: character set data? Treasures? Traps? I haven't looked closely.
"Hellfire Warrior" is a bit more complicated, but the main files are:
INN - The Innkeeper program DM - The Dunjonmaster program HELLFIRE.5 to .8 - Levels 5 to 8.
There also appear to be different character sets for each level, and perhaps colour data for each level (since the levels ARE different colours).
The Code
The Innkeeper and Dunjonmaster programs are written in ATARI BASIC, with a few machine language routines that I think are for loading the custom character set and drawing the dungeon.
Here are some important things to remember when looking through the code.
It's atrocious. Just sayin'.
Variables that start with the letter U are really constants that represent numbers...U1 represents the number one, U10 represents ten, etc. This was a common way to conserve program memory, because the ATARI BASIC interpreter tokenized variables but treated every number as a separate piece of memory.
The code is full of PEEKs and POKEs, because all character and level data is stored directly to memory addresses, not usually -- as you'd expect -- in variables. This allows the data to persist when the Innkeeper switches to the Dunjonmaster and vice-versa, but it's extremely difficult to untangle.
Variable KA represents the memory address where the level data begins, and KB represents the address where the character data begins. In "Apshai," KA is page 103 (103*256) and KB is KA+2251.
Much character data is also mirrored in variables, and the program swaps between the variables and memory occasionally, which might explain some wacky behaviour.
Each level contains sixty (Q) rooms, but not all levels utilize every room. Judging by the file sizes (identical) I assume that the unused rooms are just full of padding.
Important Variables
L: Character level (see below).
O$: A string of all the commands that can be entered.
MSTR: The line number for monster routines (7000).
KF: The direction the character is facing (1 = up, 2 = right, 3 = down, 4 = left, I think).
YA: The character's vertical position.
XA: The character's horizontal position.
TA: Fatigue.
WC: Weight carried.
PC: Wounds.
PH: Maximum wounds.
Experience Points
One of the more mysterious aspects of both "Temple of Apshai" and "Hellfire Warrior" is how experience points are evaluated. You are told the number of points you have, and the "Book of Lore" says that you will benefit from a greater number of points, but it's difficult to figure out HOW.
Here's some insight. The programs DO check your "level" during combat, and characters with a higher level definitely get an edge in the calculations. Some stats also go up when you return to the Innkeeper with a higher level than you previous had (in a circuitous and bizarre chain of statements that I haven't bothered looking closely at).
How do you know when you've gone up a level? That would be nice to find out, wouldn't it? For some odd reason the programs never tell you, but the number of experience points you need to have for each level is 1000 times the square of the level number. So:
The highest number of experience points you can get is 16,000,000.
Note that certain things in the game (like potions) can silently raise your stats, which might APPEAR to be a level bonus but isn't really. Also, "Hellfire Warrior" (at least the ATARI version) seems to have a bug where the Innkeeper gives you different numbers for your stats when you arrive from the ones you see when you return to the dungeon, and this discrepancy persists, as though the arrival stats are unmodified and the exit stats are modified by bonuses. Weird.
Important Line Numbers
5000: Parses input at each turn.
5100: Movement.
5300 and higher: Other actions.
7000: Monster stuff.
Unfortunately, many other routines -- various drawing and sound stuff, for instance -- is tucked away wherever it would fit. Lots of it is in the first hundred lines and is GOSUB'd to frequently. Presumably it's there because the earliest lines run fastest in ATARI BASIC.
Hacking the Program
It's easy enough to stop the program during operation (just press BREAK). To get back to the normal character set:
GRAPHICS 0
To reposition the coloured vertical bars (the remainder of the P/M graphics which represent you and a monster):
POKE 53248,0 POKE 53249,0
After you've made your changes, continue the program nicely with:
GOTO 5020
Make Mapping Easier
Here are some changes you can make to the "Hellfire Warrior" Dunjonmaster program to make mapping easier.
To force it to always print room numbers (which it skips for all levels numbered 6 and 8):
65 POSITION LS,U4:? "ROOM NO.:";
To always reveal a secret door when you (E)xamine a wall:
5701 IF PEEK(K+NT)=U3 THEN POKE K+NT,U2:RF(KF-U1)=U1:GOTO 5710
To always reveal traps when you (S)earch:
6300 IF PEEK(NP+KR)>U0 THEN GOSUB 670:GOSUB 679:GOTO MSTR
The last two might work in "Temple of Apshai" as well.
Rah rah rah! Here are the maps for the third and final expansion module in the original "Apshai" trilogy, "The Curse of Ra."
Level One: The Well of Forever
This simple level is a nice introduction to both the game and the overriding Egyptian theme, and it only gets hairy once you reach the pit.
Level Two: The Sphinx
No annoying riddles in this one. The actual MONSTER sphinx is something you meet right near the beginning. The fun part is enjoying their attempt at creating a level which is actually SHAPED like a sphinx, complete with paws, ears, and a tail.
Level Three: The Pyramid
And what a huge place it is, too! Here's the exterior and interior:
but you only reach those inner rooms when you go partway up and then return through the FIRST passage: Compared to all the other levels, this one provides the most opportunities for increasing your stats (in the sandy rooms to the north). Watch out for the moving statues.
Level Four: Temple of Ra
Because the Apshai engine didn't allow for triggers or conditions of any kind, attempts to convey a complicated causal environment were bound to falter now and then...if you enter a room LATER that the level designers assumed you'd enter much EARLIER, for instance, you might read a room description that tries to evoke a progressive narrative by referring to a room you haven't been in yet. Causality gets reversed. It feels weird.
This is my way of saying that if you proceed through the levels in the way they HOPED you would, you'll feel nicely submerged in the action. If you DON'T, however, then you might feel like you're watching the episodes of a TV series in the wrong order.
Fortunately I played "Temple of Ra" in the "correct" way, so I was baffled by the "mysterious force" in the secret area following the Temple Room. I do suggest you play through the base of the Ra statue before going to the upper section.
And after you're done...that's it for "Temple of Apshai!" But don't despair, the "Hellfire Warrior" sequel comes next.
In the summer of '90 I had an amazing opportunity that I mostly squandered: I spent a few months working at WATFAC, the Waterloo Foundation for the Advancement of Computing.
I got into this because my computer science teacher at the time (Savio Wong) recommended me for their yearly student work program, which required some level of aptitude for computer programming. Not knowing C I was at a bit of a disadvantage, but I WAS a little BASIC wiz and I had some experience with dBase III, which would turn out to be the big asset.
What they wanted us students to do was to learn how to use the new software they were developing: Application Creation Made Easy (ACME). It was -- for the time -- an amazing package that integrated with their WATCOM SQL engine and a specially built "Foundation" library, and was supposed to do exactly what it said: make it easy for companies to create applications, particularly the types that were front ends for data storage.
Basically, you built a database using WATCOM SQL, and then you went into ACME to add a user interface for it. This interface was -- strangely and perhaps fatally -- built in a spreadsheet, where each cel represented a page. It was up to you -- the application developer -- to place fields for displaying and entering data, and buttons that the user could press, and write the behind-the-scenes code that controlled the flow throughout the program.
The first thing *I* did with it was create an interactive adventure that allowed the player to explore the WATFAC building, because it was a very strange place to work. Formerly located on the corner of University and Phillip (where "The Marble Slab Creamery" is now), it was a refurbished bank, complete with a vault in the basement where we ate our lunch. The whole place was a rigged-up nightmare of tiny rooms and running cables.
In addition we were occasionally overseen by Wes Graham, patron saint of Waterloo computing, wonderful and just a tad eccentric. During his bizarre orientation speech he used an "onion" metaphor to describe the way layers of information are peeled back, but then he got frustrated when he realized that onions don't have the cores that his metaphor demanded. This lead to us lowly co-ops -- so often with free time on our hands -- creating a grand mythology: Wes didn't want to "advance computing," that was just a front for his REAL project: the sinister development of a peach/onion hybrid called "The Ponion."
All of the games, drawings, and stories we made were based around the Ponion mythology. This was better than what the co-op University students were doing: playing battlechess across the local area network. WE never got caught (because our fun and games were created with company tools and looked like work) but when THEY got caught there was absolute hell to pay (and a memorable lecture to the whole group about teamwork and work ethic).
My problem was that I'd been placed in the only large room in WATFAC, a conference area that I called "the circus." This room hosted about twenty computers and was where all the nerdiest computer students were...and me. These guys were hardcore, they smelled a bit, they had loud voices and yawking laughs; the archetypal computer nerds. Since I was several years younger and I DID NOT KNOW C, there were frequent attempts to denigrate me, and equally frequent attempts by me to explain to them that they should try to straighten out their hygiene and their social problems, and never any work getting done because they were all yelling about the jokes in the latest Math newsletter.
Anyway, our REAL purpose at the company was twofold: to be beta testers for the ACME software, and to write full-fledged applications using it that could be demonstrated to local companies like Bell Telephone and the Waterloo Public Library. We were each randomly assigned an application that a company had shown interest in, and unfortunately I got the one I was least passionate about: a tracking program for expense accounts, under the watchful eyes of a local insurance company. It also had the worst name of them all; while others got names such as "InfoBook" and "InfoList," mine was "InfoExp." Difficult to say, even more difficult to enjoy doing.
What I remember most about this process was the attention given to the user experience, particularly in relation to hotkeys. There were few standardized hotkeys back then -- F1 for help was the only function key that had any real meaning across programs -- and the management quickly saw the necessity of standardization. So everybody brainstormed and came up with hard-and-fast rules for what each function key would do in every "Info" program, and we stuck to it.
Another thing I remember about the user experience was trying to organize data onscreen in a way that was friendly AND informative. While the other kids in "the circus" were outperforming each other trying to hack the ACME boot program with C in order to add esoteric and impossible-to-maintain features, I introduced my one innovation: ASCII graphics to create boxes around lists and to separate data from instruction. Simple and effective, but nobody had thought of it before. Within days everybody had a sheet of ASCII codes at their desks.
At the end of it all we had to give presentations of our programs to the companies themselves. I think I've blocked my presentation from memory -- not bad, but not great either -- but I DO remember the presentation that Mike gave.
Mike was the most obnoxious co-op there -- every day he'd make an endless string of bad computer jokes, along the lines of "Database engine won't start? Pour some gas in it! Hyuk hyuk hyuk! Right into the floppy drive! Hyuk hyuk!" -- and his application was for book filing and reference. He used to brag about how fantastic his presentation would be, and when he stood up there in front of the Waterloo Public Library board I saw an obnoxious, pushy braggart become a confused and stuttering fool. Plus all the books in his sample database were by Gary Gygax. Fail.
Eventually the job was over. I got a nice paycheck, a nice evaluation, and a nice reference, plus a free copy of ACME that I used as supplementary income (by creating a locker assignment application for our highschool).
What I remember most, however, is something I haven't even touched on: it was the first time I lived away from home. The parents of my friend Jeff -- who was also in the program -- owned student housing in the university ghetto, and they allowed Jeff and I to stay in an empty house while they renovated it. I remember many evenings mowing the lawn and painting the railings.
Looking back, it seems to me that I enjoyed this "moving out" experiment very much. My parents would drop in occasionally, and I spent some time wandering around the city and hanging out with Waterloo friends. This was when some women had been sexually attacked on the university campus, and I remember little groups of calm vigilantes wandering around campus and checking student IDs.
I also remember the first time I learned not to leave a kettle boiling when you leave for work. I remember playing Dragon Spirit obsessively at Flynn's arcade during lunch hour -- just to escape the airless, windowless lunch-vault -- and also that my Kate Bush obsession had reached its peak: my paychecks were going to vinyl bootlegs from Encore Records, and I picked up my first Peter Gabriel album (III) when I learned that Bush had done vocals for it. My mind was blown.
Now WATFAC is gone, and WATCOM is only really remembered for their compiler (though children of The ICON will remember WATCOM BASIC). Looking back, I think that ACME failed because it was released around the same time as Visual BASIC, and while ACME was more powerful it was also much harder to use. I'd love to see the program again someday.
And Wes Graham? When I went to the University of Waterloo many years later I was thrilled to see him as a "special guest" in a FASS show, playing a janitor. Everybody cheered. Now there is a road named after him.
(See this post for background on what I'm talking about here)
Give some creative and intelligent people a framework for creating games, and before long they'll figure out how to do tricks that are far beyond the original specifications. "Temple of Apshai" may have kept rigidly within the Dunjonquest engine's parameters, but "Upper Reaches of Apshai" has the software jumping through hoops.
Specifically, they've realized three things:
Rooms can overlap. Because each room's data is totally discreet -- not being part of a single large structure -- you can create a multi-leveled effect. This is first seen in the spiral staircase of level four, "Benedic's Monestery."
Adjacent doors don't have to have the same connections. This is first seen in "Merlis' Hall of Magic," (level 2) where returning through a door takes you to a room that LOOKS identical but is totally different (and might have different exits, secret doors, etc.) This adds a whole new dimension to the game, allowing rooms to "change" depending on how you enter them.
The other effect of disconnected doors is the simple one-way exit, fully exploited in the "cave ins" within "Olias' Cellar" (level 3). It's easy but effective: walk through a door, and the next room doesn't have a door that goes back in the opposite direction.
Finally, the most maddening and subtle trick of them all: the "two rooms appear to be one room" trick. Because all Dunjonquest rooms must be rectangular, you begin to assume that every rectangle is a single room...you check for secret doors within a room and then you walk out. But by creating two adjacent rooms, each with only three walls, the level creators can make a "hidden" room that is only visible when you cross the midpoint. A treasure might be in that room, or -- in the case of the "bear cave" in "Olias' Cellar" -- a secret door that cannot be detected until you cross the room.
What amazes me about these games is how polished they are. Each time I find that I've missed a room or a treasure, my first thought is that I've encountered a bug, but no...after diligent searching I realize that I didn't find what I was looking for because the level designers wanted me to WORK HARD.
That said, I think there IS a bug in "Olias' Cellar," involving a secret door in room 19 that leads to a corridor section (15) which overlaps another corridor section (20) but shares the same exits. Nothing in the text explains why this happens, so I suspect the design was glitchy and they just left it in.
(I also think there's a missing treasure in the final level of "Curse of Ra," but I'll get to that next time).
Anyway, here are the levels for "The Upper Reaches of Apshai."
Level One: The Innkeeper's Backyard
Level Two: Merlis' Cottage
Level 3: Olias' Cellar
Level Four: Benedics Monastery
Besides the innovations in the room connections, these levels are more fun to play because they're coherent. They have interesting backstories and little mysteries which go far beyond the "kill monsters and find treasures" plots of "Temple." More importantly, these levels tend to be FUNNY. There are actually JOKES in them. Rather than endlessly fighting motivationless Antmen ("Oh no! Antmen") you are meeting vicious farmyard animals ("Oh no! Goose!") and doing your darnedest to vanquish the Creeping Crud.
I have so many guilty pleasures that I'm in a permanent state of mortification, and one of my pleasures is a good old-fashioned dungeon crawl. It's not because I love killing monsters and collecting treasures; the actual BULK of a dungeon crawl game is incidental to me. What I REALLY like to do is to EXPLORE.
I've always gotten a thrill out of mazes, tunnels, and imaginary digital worlds. Unfortunately there are few games that are simply about exploring...pissy monsters are always attacking you and you have to solve anachronous "eight queens" puzzles at every second step. I'm of the opinion that the world (the real one) is waiting for a computer simulation of a rich landscape that doesn't necessarily have anybody else in it. The fact that I'd enjoy such a thing is creepy, really.
But anyway, my favourite games as a teenager were the ones where you could wander around a maze and map it, and then stare for hours at the map wondering what sort of cool place it would be to live in. Unfortunately back then I had a very low threshold for frustration, so I rarely succeeded in finishing the games that were so fun to explore: Ultima, The Eidolon, Alternate Reality, and...
...the Dunjonquest series, considered to be the first dungeon crawls for the 8-bit home computers. Originally developed by Jon Freeman (who is most idolized these days as being one of the creators of Archon) for his fledgling Automated Simulations company (likewise most idolized for later becoming Epyx), these games were all about wandering around mazes, killing monsters, raising your stats, collecting treasures, and running from Antmen who apparently used a vanilla-scented body lotion.
The Dunjonquest game that most people remember is "Temple of Apshai" and its two sequels, "Upper Reaches of Apshai" and "Curse of Ra." These three games -- like the "Hellfire Warrior" trilogy that followed them -- presented you with a very basic depiction of your surroundings, requiring you to actually read the room descriptions from the accompanying manual (or "Book of Lore.")
Originally written in BASIC in 1979, the first games required a great deal of patience and imagination, and the subsequent games -- with the exception of "Gateway to Apshai," a very different arcade-style adventure -- used the same engine. Even when the Apshai games were eventually released as a re-written, integrated, machine-language "Temple of Apshai Trilogy" -- the way most people remember them -- you still needed to shuffle your little character along featureless corridors, bumping into walls and slaying barely-animated 4-colour monsters.
So Dunjonquest games don't have a lot of appeal to gamers these days, and they've slowly faded away from the eyes of even the most nostalgic 8-bit fans.
Until now!
I'm happy to say I'm not alone in my love of these games, and I've been collaborating with Robinson Mason -- and scrounging the darkest corners of the internet -- to reclaim the programs. And not just the programs, but also the even more rare "Books of Lore" which are both essential for play and a delight to read.
While my compatriot tirelessly unearths more of the games and materials, I've been concentrating on reverse-engineering the BASIC code and mapping all the levels. I've discovered some interesting things buried in the convoluted rats-nest of oddly-ported BASIC, but that will come later. Right now, here are maps for the four levels of the first game, "Temple of Apshai."
I decided not to include room numbers, traps, or treasures -- that would not only clutter up my tiny drawings but would also spoil more of the game. And I make no claims to the 100% accuracy of these maps; they are complete and fully-connected, but their proportions may be slightly off. Click on an image to see a larger version.
Temple of Apshai - Level One
Temple of Apshai - Level Two
Temple of Apshai - Level Three
Temple of Apshai - Level Four
The maps for the next game ("Upper Reaches of Apshai") are coming soon (along with playing tips), and I expect there'll be a resource site starting up eventually. Until then, spare a thought to all those digital worlds that are locked up in decaying floppy disks in attics and basements, and consider rescuing them for one last time.
After working a variety of jobs and majoring in a degree that I belatedly decided I didn't like, I feel I've finally found the perfect career: technical writer. It has just the right levels of independence, innovation, creativity, and variety.
But that doesn't mean I'm not open to other possibilities! While taking a break from animation (!) and with a cat permanently embedded on my lap, I decided to try..."Career Counselor" by Melvyn Lebowitz.
How can you not trust your future to a 1982 program written in BASIC for an 8-bit computer? Regarding the animated title screen, you'll note that the little pink woman in the dress goes to work in an office building after leaving school, while the naked blue man (presumably cold) works in a factory. He's also waving "Goodbye forever, until my job goes overseas!"
Anyway, which jobs did "Career Counselor" pick for me?
EDITOR
HISTORIAN
HORTICULTURIST
POLITICAL SCIENTIST
PROSE WRITER
SOIL CONSERVATIONIST
TECHNICAL WRITER
Besides its insistence that I spend more of my time with plants, the suggestions are surprisingly good, though apparently I'm overpaid because the TECHNICAL WRITER's earning level is "24,000-29,999." This is notably higher than the earning level of either the PROSE WRITER or the SOIL CONSERVATIONIST, though the former's employment outlook is strangely "Good-Excellent." I guess things were different in 1982.
In September I bought the three "Korg Nano" MIDI controllers -- the NanoPAD, NanoKEY, and NanoKONTROL -- and I wrote about my attempts to integrate them with my Logic Studio software. Some of the annoying problems I was having -- in particular the loss of configured settings when changing the order of my MIDI devices -- I placed squarely on the shoulders of Logic's annoying Controller Assignments dialog.
How do I feel two months later?
First, I still love the Nanos. I use the NanoKEY the most; it's an extremely convenient way to work out a melody or a chord without messing around with a bulky synthesizer. The two-octave range IS limiting, and the lack of a true pitch bend IS annoying, but as an exploratory tool the NanoKEY is phenomenal.
To be honest I haven't used the NanoPAD much. The X-Y surface is great for glitching up your stuff (and your drums, which is what you're supposed to use it for), but as a replacement pitch bend/modulator for the NanoKEY it fails simply due to a lack of an identifiable "center position." It's a small quibble, though, because that's not what it's for.
Oddly, the controller I was most excited about -- the NanoKONTROL -- is the one I use the least. This is partly because I haven't gotten around to any real mastering lately, but mainly because of its obvious limitations: no shuttle/jog, no LCD information about control assignments, and no motorized controls. Even the transport controls remain unused these days; it's easier to just use the keyboard.
I'm sure I'll find more uses for both the NanoPAD and NanoKONTROL, but for now they're gathering a bit of dust.
That's my impression of the devices themselves. How about their integration with Logic Studio? Well, the real question is: how often do they actual WORK with Logic Studio?
The Nanos are totally unpredictable whenever you wake your computer up from sleep; sometimes they get recognized, sometimes they don't. Here's what happens:
I have the following devices attached to my iMac:
A PreSonus FIREBOX, attached via Firewire, which is always on.
A Lexicon MX300 effects processor, attached via USB, which I only turn on before I launch Logic Studio.
The three Korg Nanos, all attached to an unpowered USB hub that is dedicated only to them.
When I wake up my iMac, the Lexicon is never recognized (because it's off)...but neither are the Nanos, though their lights go on. When I turn on the Lexicon it is automatically recognized, but the Nanos stay unavailable.
When I then unplug the USB hub and plug it back in, two out of the three Nanos are suddenly recognized...but one random Nano never is. I need to unplug the stubborn Nano and plug it back in again, and USUALLY that works...I've never had to do it twice in one sitting.
Once all three Nanos are online they stay that way until I shut down my iMac or put it to sleep...then I have to go through the whole process again. I keep the Audio MIDI Setup application in my dock these days to make everything a little less painful.
Now, due to the way Logic Studio stores its controller assignments, ANY shuffling of MIDI devices is bound to invalidate your carefully-crafted assignments. This whole "unplug hub, unplug recalcitrant Nano" procedure turns the assignments into digital stew. So even if I were using my NanoKONTROLLER, I'd probably need to reconfigure it almost every time I wanted to use it.
Logic Studio deserves a bit of blame here, but as far as I can tell the REAL culprit is Korg's custom USB driver. The Lexicon switches on and off like a charm...why not the Nanos?
So with all that in mind, are they still worth it? Yes, absolutely, as long as you don't need rock-solid stability as soon as you turn on your computer, and as long as you don't need to retain your Logic Studio assignments. I don't need either of those things and the NanoKEY alone is a charmer.
If you have any Nano experiences, post a comment! Heck, maybe somebody knows a fix or a workaround. It would make my life a bit easier...
I'm saving money, right? I've got a mortgage and new furniture and a brand-new bed, and God only knows how much money I'll be taking home from work once all those expenses kick in. So I've been counting my pennies and going out less and eating cheaper food...
...and then I bought these.
They comprise the "Korg Nano Series," three very cheap and powerful MIDI controllers that you can hook up to your music software and do amazing things with.
It should be obvious what the "NanoKEY" is for: it's a two-octave, velocity-sensitive, polyphonic keyboard that's perfect for tapping out melodies. My "workhorse" keyboard is an enormous and heavy Ensoniq ESQ-1, and it's sheer overkill when I just want to tinker. But I can plunk the NanoKEY down on my lap and use it without any setup or bother. It just works.
Likewise the "NanoPAD," which is ostensibly for drum programming but can also be used to make wonderfully freaky noises. It has a touchpad which you can squish your finger around on, bending and modulating notes with total abandon.
Most important, however, is the "NanoKONTROL," which comes with nine faders and knobs and eighteen buttons. You can decide for yourself what you want these controls to do; since the NanoKONTROL has four different "scenes" that you can switch between, I've programmed the fourth scene as an eighteen channel mixer (I'll explain how I did that in a second), the third scene to accomplish common editing tasks (changing the zoom level, switching tools), and the second scene for controlling EQ parameters. The first scene is for whatever tweaky thing I want to do at the moment...changing the cutoff and resonance of a synth, for instance.
The NanoKONTROL also has six buttons for controlling the transport...it's nice to be able to play, record, stop, and move the playhead without ever touching the mouse or keyboard.
The three devices are lightweight and tiny, and can all be run off an unpowered USB hub. And you damn well better use a hub, for reasons I'll cover in a second.
Bad Things About the Nanos
You get what you pay for. The keyboard is certainly not for performance...it's good enough for recording, but it occasionally drops notes.
As for the controller, the faders are short, none of it is motorized, and it receives no feedback from your editing software, so it is rarely in sync with what you're doing; if you tweak something in your software and then try to tweak it with the controller, the position of the controller and the value in your software will not match. This isn't crippling, but it does lead to twitchiness.
Also, since it has no assignable labels on it, it's very easy to forget how each control is assigned. And you can't get a nice shuttle/jog setup because none of the knobs are continuous; they all have a beginning and end.
But when you spend $80 for a controller you don't expect those kinds of features. These units are for hobbyists and for quick-and-dirty experiments; they aren't professional gear. Sigh.
Bad Things About Logic Pro
The real problems come when you try to integrate the NanoKONTROL with Logic Pro. In some ways it makes sense that the procedure is difficult: both Logic and the controllers are so freely configurable that it's impossible to offer a single solution. You, the user, must make decisions about how you want to use the controller...and then you must teach the hardware and the software to speak to each other.
Configuring the Nanos themselves is super-easy: you download the Korg Kontrol Editor and use it to tell the nanos how they should behave. Which MIDI channel will they use? Which notes and/or control codes should they send for each pad, fader, button, and knob? Should the buttons act as toggles -- sending a different code for each press -- or should they be "momentary," sending one code when depressed and a second when released?
Korg also tells you that, if you want to use more than one Nano at a time, you need to install their USB MIDI driver. I don't know if this is really necessary or not...I did it as a last resort when things seemed to be going haywire (see below).
Your nightmare only begins when you need to tell Logic how to use the NanoKontrol. You need to use Logic's "Controller Assignments" dialog, which you can access by pressing Command-K. Remember that shortcut...you'll use it a lot.
The Controller Assignments dialog is the dark smelly butthole of Logic Pro. It's ancient and unfriendly and buggy. It can just as easily make your dreams come true as it can totally destroy hours of hard work.
If you are faced with the task of configuring your NanoKontrol within Logic, my first advice is to READ THE LOGIC PRO CONTROL SURFACES SUPPORT MANUAL, but when it tells you in chapter one that you must "add" the device to Logic Pro, DON'T BELIEVE THEM. Logic cannot detect the NanoKontrol so it can't be "added" in the usual way. Skip chapter one entirely. Chapter two -- "Customizing Controller Assignments" -- is the one you need to read.
My next piece of advice is to NEVER USE THE EASY VIEW. It's confusing and gives you no idea of what you're actually doing. Skip right to the Expert View and do everything in there...
Key Commands
...unless you're assigning Key Commands, which is best done in the Key Commands dialog (Option-K). If you want to assign a button on your NanoKontrol to a keyboard shortcut in Logic -- and there are hundreds of them -- then use the Key Commands dialog...just select the command you want to execute, click the "Learn New Assignment" button, and press a button on your NanoKontrol. Presto!
This is great for the transport buttons (Play, Stop...) and for things like "Page Forward" and "Switch to Scissors Tool." It is NOT, however, useful for the knobs and faders, or for special controls inside plugins. For those you need the Controller Assignments dialog.
Additional Key Command tips: use the Search field to find the controls you're looking for, and NEVER try to resize the columns; you'll end up with the first column becoming half its width, therefore obscuring most of the commands, and you will not be able to fix it. You'll need to hover your mouse over the commands to receive tooltips, which don't always appear. Grrrrrr!
Controller Assignments
Now for the hard part: the infinitely configurable faders and knobs and plug-in stuff.
Logic Pro remembers the last thing you touched within the interface. If you open a plug-in -- like the EFM1 synth, for instance -- and then click on a control -- such as the FM knob -- then Logic will remember that you touched it.
If -- immediately after touching it -- you go to the Controller Assignments window and click the "Learn Mode" button, the following things will happen:
A new control called "Learned" appears in the Control list.
The "Learn Mode" button becomes shaded, indicating that Logic is ready to associate the last thing you touched (the FM knob) with the next MIDI message it receives.
So when you twist a knob on the NanoKontrol (or move a fader or press a button), the NanoKontrol sends the MIDI message associated with that knob/fader/button (which you can set in the Korg Kontrol Editor), and Logic assigns the control to the MIDI message. Presto! The Control list will show something like "Learned - EFM1: Carrier FM Intensity," and when that list object is selected you will see information about the "class" of the control (see the Control Services Support Manual), the device which sends the MIDI message ("nanoKONTROL SLIDER/KNOB"), and nifty options for setting the value (see the manual again).
Here's the awful shit you must now remember to do:
If you are finished assigning controls, CLICK THE LEARN MODE BUTTON TO EXIT LEARN MODE. If you don't do this you will screw everything up. As long as that button is shaded, Logic is hijacking everything in order to link controls with MIDI messages. Do not touch anything else in the interface or twiddle ANYTHING on the NanoKontrol before exiting Learn Mode.
If you want to assign another control, however, then click something else in the interface (like the EFM1's "Harmonic" knob), then twist another knob on the NanoKontrol -- resulting in a new control assignment -- and keep doing this until you've assigned everything. But remember to click the Learn Mode button when you're done! Otherwise you will reassign controls, or assign multiple knobs to the same thing, and untangling that mess can be hell on earth.
Kick whoever designed the Controller Assignment window squarely in the ass. "Learn Mode" button which acts as a toggle? This is NOT part of Apple's design specifications, I'm sure.
Once Learn Mode is off, twiddle your assigned knob. It'll work! You can now tap the keys on your NanoKey and use the knob to change the FM Intensity of the notes. Brilliant! That's why you bought this thing!
If you're using the NanoKontrol to change the automation on a track -- say, to change the FM Intensity for MIDI notes recorded on one of your tracks -- you need to switch the track to either "Latch" or "Touch" mode (read the regular Logic Manual), then hit "Play" (not "Record") and twist the knob as the notes play. The changes are recorded to the track as automation values, which you can go back and edit.
If you want to use the NanoKontrol as a mixing desk, you want to assign your controls to the "Fader Bank" channel strip within the "Channel Strip" class, then set which Fader Bank track you want to assign the control to. This is BEST done in the Mixer window, because when you use "Learn Mode" after touching a channel strip control in the Mixer window, the Controller Assignment window automatically uses the proper Fader Bank and track number. Otherwise, if you do this in the Arrange window, the control will be assigned to just the "selected track."
Remember when I mentioned that I'd assigned the nine sets of controls in Scene Four to be an eighteen-channel mixer? That's because I set one of the buttons to perform a "Mode Change," to toggle between two sets of controller assignments: one for tracks 1 to 9, the other for tracks 10 to 18. By changing modes you can infinitely extend your number of assignments, but this requires planning (because you have to add all your assignments to new Zones and Modes within the Controller Assignment window).
Fortunately, if you fiddle with something on your NanoKontrol, its assignment is highlighted within the Controller Assignments window, which can help you fix mistakes like multiple assignments. But that's the only user-friendly thing about the window: you cannot sort or group your assignments in the list -- they appear underneath whatever you have selected at the time -- and you can't make changes to the parameters of multiple assignments at once, and you can't drag assignments between zones and modes.
As if that didn't suck enough...
Logic Studio Can Forget Your Assignments
Until you realize this -- and why it happens -- you will be SCREAMING IN ANGUISH.
There is a terrible bug in Logic Studio. Each time you add or remove a MIDI Input device to your computer, Logic Studio's list of MIDI devices changes. And it seems that your controller assignments -- those hundreds of knob-and-fader connections you've so painstakingly created -- are not mapped to specific MIDI devices, they are rather mapped to the number of the MIDI device within Logic Studio's list. And if the ordering of the devices in the list changes -- because you've added or removed a MIDI device, simply by unplugging its USB or Firewire cable -- it is highly likely that all of your controller assignments will map to the wrong MIDI device.
So attach all your USB MIDI devices to a single hub, keep them always plugged in (at least when using Logic), and don't swap them around. If you do, you will find that your assignments no longer work. You can manually select each assignment in the window and reset its MIDI Input device (the manual claims that doing this for one device will reset all assignments which use a similar device, but I don't think I believe them), or you can try plugging everything back in and hoping that the list sorts itself back in the original order, but whatever you do DON'T BLAME YOUR NANO. It is Logic's fault.
Tip: Sometimes, when you twist a knob or push a fader that you haven't used in a long time, you will find that it doesn't immediately work; this is probably because it isn't "in sync" with the object it's controlling. Try moving the control all the way in one direction, then all the way back to the other direction, and I bet it will work again. Otherwise open the Korg Kontrol Editor and make sure the Nano is connected. If that doesn't work, open the Controller Assignments window and see what sort of evil crap that Logic Studio has done to the assignment.
I think that covers it. I'm very happy with my Nanos, and more than a little cross with Logic. Fixing the Controller Assignments window should be a top priority for them, and this is a bug they've known about for years...do something, people!
PS: All of your assignments are stored in a file called com.apple.logic.pro.cs. Every time I make a change to my assignments I make a backup of that file (it's in your user's Library/Preferences folder).
PPS: My NanoPad came with the wrong USB cable...a full-size one instead of the required mini. This is strange.
For the past month I've been trying to master Ataxx. The concept is a simple one -- combined with some wonderfully evil graphics and music in the arcade version -- but the damn Mushman (the foe of only "average" skill) beats me almost every time.
The more I play the game, the more I appreciate its complexity. You should be able to learn the best moves by simply watching the computer opponent, but he (or in the case of the busty Gorgon, she) keeps outsmarting me. This might be because I'm not an offensive player.
If anybody out there comes up with a list of hard-and-fast rules -- which must exist, because the computer follows some sort of algorithm -- please pass them along. The only ones I can find are written in poorly-translated French.
Every year or so I decide to tackle Objective-C and Cocoa again, partly because I want to create useless applications for my computer, but mainly as a brain-sharpening mental exercise.
A few things have hindered me:
* An incomplete mastery of C.
* Textbooks which tell you to do things, but don't explain why.
* Textbooks which go out of date with each OS X update.
For these reasons I've bumbled around the language, eventually finding myself out of my depth and retreating to safer pursuits (like YouTube puppet shows with a seal, for example).
This time I think I'm REALLY getting somewhere. Part of my success is due to my previous attempts at learning the concepts -- even when I failed I took away some valuable lessons -- but I'm using some different resources now...ones that suit my knowledge level AND my method of learning.
I started with Stephen G. Kochan's "Programming in Objective-C." Whereas most other books either assume a total knowledge of C or a complete LACK of knowledge, Kochan's book is written for those who understand the concepts but REALLY need a syntax refresher. The first half explains all the elements of C in an Objective-C context, and ends with "Underlying C Language Features" (like structs and character arrays) that you'll probably never need (but should know about anyway).
The second half of the book is devoted to using the essential Objective-C Foundation classes -- numbers, strings, files, etc. -- and all the important methods. Once you've finished "Programming in Objective-C" you are ready for the Cocoa concepts.
That's where Aaron Hillegass' celebrated "Cocoa Programming for Mac OS X" comes in. This book assumes a comfortable knowledge of both C and Objective-C, and it teaches you how to use them effectively with Interface Builder. By page 100 you're building full-featured applications for your Mac...
...but Hillegass' book is more of a "gentle introduction" than I prefer; it often skips over the lower level "HOW does this work?" stuff. If you're like me then you NEED that information, so I recommend that you SIMULTANEOUSLY read "Cocoa Design Patterns" by Erik M. Buck and Donald A. Yacktman. By teaching you the best ways to use the extremely flexible NEXTSTEP frameworks -- and revealing the common patterns that developers use when writing Cocoa applications -- you learn exactly why Hillegass tells you to -- for instance -- [[foo alloc] init].
The only downside of "Cocoa Design Patterns" is that it's still unfinished. I bought a "rough cut" advance copy and it is teaching me SO MUCH...but it's damn obnoxious to read, full of spelling mistakes, incorrect cross-references, incomprehensible formatting, and half-finished ideas. It's very much a work in progress -- and it's advertised as such, so I wasn't ripped off -- but you MIGHT want to wait until the book is actually released.
These three books are my recommended recipes for success. They teach you the syntax, the application, and the structure of Cocoa programming. They also teach you why creating Mac applications is such a pleasure...until you start doing reference counting, of course.
Some days, to pass the time, I read back issues of '80s computer magazines. It's a nerdy pursuit but sometimes I run across something interesting.
The North American computer scene was pretty stoic. Lots of horny kids owned computers, but the magazines themselves tried to maintain a certain respectability, writing in a fact-based journalistic style in an attempt inform and edify. "Creative Computing" was downright dry and businesslike in its approach, whereas even the less formal magazines kept their childish shenanigans to a minimum.
Published in England and devoted to the ZX Spectrum, Crash Magazine was a swill of pre-adolescent humour, faux hipness, and over-the-top gore. Add Oliver Frey's strangely homoerotic cover art and you have an untinted window into the minds of repressed British childhood during the middle '80s. It's boring and annoying and repetative, yes, but it's a type of sensationalistic weirdness that I've never been exposed to before.
"Tip pages" were very popular in these magazines. Readers would write in with advice for beating the games, or programming cheats, or maps of the sprawling levels which typified Spectrum games. Crash's tip page was nothing special until -- in 1986 -- the previous tip page compiler stepped aside and he was replaced with...A GIRL!
Hannah Smith's hiring was presented initially as some form of female emancipation: women could be smart and clever and competitive just like men! But some of the spotty readers wrote in to say typical '80s things like "Women should go back to where they belong and stop taking men's jobs," as though being the self-styled "girlie tipster" for Crash Magazine was a high-paying position of executive power.
What's most bizarre, however -- and what, in retrospect, was very typical of the '80s reaction to female empowerment -- was how other readers (and the editors) would simultaneously defend and DEGRADE women. All the male readers said things like "Get out of your chauvinist caves, you idiots! This is the '80s! Hannah Smith is great and she's GORGEOUS! Please give her my PHONE NUMBER!" The female readers said "Just because we're weak and frilly doesn't mean we can't do a man's job!" And the editors...
...well, the editors printed covers like this:
...and they wrote articles about how sweaty she got during aerobics, and they tried to set up a jello-wrestling contest with another female writer...
...all while defending her right to be a member of the team.
I'm not saying that England was particularly sexist at the time -- they had Benny Hill, sure, but they also had Margaret Thatcher. Reading these magazines, I'm remembering that this was how female emancipation was treated by the average person in the mid '80s: "Sure women should have the freedom to do whatever they want...as long as they do it in my pants!" There are still lots of people who have that attitude, surely, but you don't see NEARLY so many of them, and they CERTAINLY don't have a mainstream high-profile forum for their views (not without being viewed as crackpots, at least).
This leads me to Benny Hill. I've been watching his 1982 specials today and comparing them to both his older '60s programs and to today's television shows. They're creepy because Hill had gotten older while his female talent got younger (and more scantily clad), and 95% of the jokes involved Hill and his cronies trying to squeeze some woman's bum...
...but what's weird is that Hill almost always suffers HUMILIATION for this. The women outwit him, or he suffers some sort of punishment for his actions, and we (the viewer) are left respecting THEM and laughing at HIM (while still chuckling at his impotent horny buffoonery).
What's my point? I only have an inkling of one. It seems to me that as sexualized and marginalized as the Hill's Angels and Hannah Smiths were, they DID embody a sort of privilege and power as long as they remained at arm's length. By being intelligent and beautiful they had control of the scripted, imaginary situations they were put in. They were very much the superwomen...fetishized goddesses on pedestals.
When I do drag I'm very aware of this aspect of idealized femininity, so I see the attraction to it, and I also see the benefit of it...
...but it all DOES fall apart when reality enters the picture. The average woman on the street is NOT one of Hill's Angels, and NO women live inside his television scripts. The REAL world is a dangerous place for the desired female, and its one where that element of sexual power tends to wane as the years go by.
So it's certainly good that today's Hannah Smiths are not so routinely dismissed as "girlie tipsters" (though it does seem to me that many women would embrace that type of diminutive for themselves). Things have certainly changed publicly, and that's a good thing.
As for the rest of it, though...gender, sexuality, society, and politics are a terrible stew.
People are always showing ultrasounds of their babies to suitably impressed friends and family. Instead of showing you an image of my life and happiness, I present you with an image of pain and dysfunction...yes, this is what my shoulder looks like on the inside:
I'm no doctor so I can't tell you what it means. All I know is, if the inside of your shoulder looks like this, your shoulder is F*CKED.
Today I went to the Guelph General Hospital to pick up a disk of my MRI results, partly because I'll need to give them to a shoulder specialist but also because I'm really darn curious. What sort of awful thing did they see when they looked at my cartilage in three dimensions? Did they scream? Do they still have nightmares?
Probably not. All I know is that once you view your body "in slices" like this, you cease to recognize it and you realize just how meaty you are. The only landmarks I can find in the images are the bones; everything else is just so much generalized gristle.
I'll let the doctor figure it out.
In the meantime, you might be wondering how to look at the inside of your OWN body. First you need to get an MRI, and then you need to call the hospital and ask them to make a copy of the data. They won't mail it to you (or your doctor) so you need to drive back to the hospital in a pounding rainstorm in order to pick up the CD.
When you examine the CD itself, you'll discover that it contains quaint Microsoft DOS files with eight-letter all-caps filenames. The included viewer cannot be run on your Mac, so either you spend the rest of your life trying to interpret the hexadecimal data in your "DICOM image" files or you download OsiriX, a free DICOM viewer for the Mac.
When you use a layperson-monkey technique of hitting OsiriX buttons semi-intelligently until something appears...well, unless you have a railroad spike through the affected organ or something inside you has exploded, you'll see animated slices of incomprehensible things which look mostly like a Grateful Dead lightshow.
I'm not saying that it isn't worth it, but if I thought I could diagnose my own injury by looking at these pictures I was terribly terribly wrong.
PS: On second viewing I believe that the big white thing in the picture -- the one on the left, partly overlapping the ball of my humerus -- is the oft-cursed "labrum," which in my case is apparently torn. It shows up so well in the picture because they injected radioactive dye into it. If that's the case, it's sort of neat that you can see it right through the bone.
PPS: The picture above is not from the MRI, it is an X-Ray they took immediately after the dye was injected. I think the wormy-looking white line in the middle is the path of the needle with some dye backed up into it. Yuck.
Rather than exclusively filming mini-drag shows -- which are rife with copyright infringement -- or silly sketches -- which have a whole bunch of tiresome and restrictive requirements -- I decided to make a music video. But I wanted the video and the music to evolve TOGETHER, instead of filming footage for a song I've already done.
So I filmed some footage and moved it back and forth between iMovie and Logic Studio, massaging both the video and music until...
"Phonebox/Lunchbox," the first in a projected series of "box" video-songs.
The Background
This is all part of an attempt to broaden my horizons, and in particular to learn new skills. I figured that this project would require me to research and explore a lot of things outside of my comfort zone: concept, composition, and actually trying to ACHIEVE something instead of just letting it happen.
Remember when I got all gushy about the video stabilization feature in iMovie '09? Well it has a pretty serious bug: if you choose to stabilize your trimmed clips in the editor window (instead of stabilizing the pre-trimmed clips in the event window), and then you decide later on to change the trimming for the clips, iMovie tends to misapply the stabilization settings and it will not let you override them. Even deleting the video entirely from the project and then re-importing it will not help...iMovie never forgets.
So if you noticed the three or four jittery clips in that video, I'm afraid that there was nothing I could do: iMovie would not let me choose a stabilization value above 101%. I have learned my lesson.
Most of the phone and wire footage was filmed on a beautifully cloudy, ominous morning. The park footage was filmed that sunny afternoon. I'm totally aware that many of the things I filmed are NOT telephone-related, but heck, I'm no technician!
As for the telephone voices, I have been collecting those for years, and this project was in many ways born from a desire to finally USE some of them.
This "make a movie from scratch" thing is entirely new to me, but every project is a learning experience. I've learned a little bit about composition, and a bit about lighting, and a LOT about how to use iMovie for something it's not meant for.
iMovie is a video editing tool that is part of Apple's iLife, a suite of integrated multi-media products. You get iLife for free when you buy a Macintosh so a lot of people create their home video projects using iMovie. It's a hell of a lot cheaper than Apple's professional offering (Final Cut Pro).
But why should Apple bother to even SELL Final Cut Pro if people are happy to simply use iMovie? Well, Final Cut Pro is marketed to the professional video editor, and iMovie is marketed to hobbyists. And for that reason, before Apple releases a new version of iMovie, they usually go into it with a stick and beat everything useful out of it.
Even so, if you have a little bit of ingenuity (and an awful lot of patience) you can stretch iMovie beyond its limits and create -- say -- all the videos I've been putting online for the last two years.
This week, however, I ran up against something new: shaky video. In the past I have always filmed footage using a tripod, but now that I'm trying something radically different -- which you'll see soon if it works out halfway decent -- I actually had to take my teeny-tiny camera (a Canon PowerShot SD1000) outside and shoot things by hand...on a windy day.
Despite the wind, there's apparently a growing problem with cameras getting smaller and smaller: tiny, light cameras are hard to hold without shaking them. When I got my hard-filmed footage home and looked at it on my computer I absolutely freaked: it wobbled all over the place, rendering all my focus and detail into an incomprehensible stew!
Short of hiring a steadycam operator I had only one recourse: to upgrade to iMovie '09, which -- besides a whole whack of other new features -- allows you to stabilize shaky video. It analyzes your clip, tracks the motion, and then zooms in JUST ENOUGH to crop out the edges while moving in the opposite direction of the shake.
People are raving about this feature, and about iMovie '09 in general. The thing is, you can only buy iMovie '09 as an integrated iLife '09 package, and this costs (in Canada) $100.
That would be fine if I actually USED anything in iLife other than iMovie and iPhoto, or if there were an existing upgrade path from the relatively pathetic iMovie '08 (which is what I've been using for the past year)...but no. As the folks in our local Apple store said, "There's no upgrade path, but the suite is WAY cheaper than anything you'd get from another company."
Plus there is simply no other game in town. All the other video editors for the Mac are either crappy or vapourware.
So I bought iLife '09 yesterday and installed it late last night. It came to life instantly and worked perfectly. And when I instructed it to stabilize one of my shaky clips -- which it does at about half the speed of the clip itself -- it...holy wow, it WORKED! It looked PERFECT!
I've stabilized half the footage I shot yesterday and it has all come out clean: no shake, no weirdness, just a smoothly-flowing image. All my carefully-filmed details are visible again. iMovie '09 -- despite its slightly galling price -- did exactly what it promised to do.
How often can you say that about software these days? And I haven't even looked at all the OTHER features yet.