I Have Met the Enemy, and He is Me.

After a quick crit on Thursday, it became clear that I'm not quite finished with what I started just yet. I kicked off my studio by examining some territories set forth by a trio vandals who had been roaming my neighbourhood and generally causing havoc. In this examination it became clear to me that I haven't created a proper set of territorial boundaries for myself, causing my general malaise regarding the situation. The fact that I didn't care was one that was disturbing to me, and so I started to investigate the spaces I actually did care about, and the memories that made that connection. I was drawn to my site in New York because my memories involving video games, my childhood, and my brothers are incredibly strong and very important to me. During my crit, though, I was asked if I could look at this situation with the vandals in terms of a video game, or just a game in general. The answer is a resounding yes, but the type of game is strange.

The game that the vandals and I play is an interesting one. In this game, I can make as many moves as I like during my "turn", but I will never be completely sure when my opponent is going to be there, so my moves can turn out to be meaningless without some kind of surveillance. If I can figure out when the opponent will arrive, or if I can create some kind of link whereby I can monitor my territory at all times, then I can participate in the game in a more meaningful way.

There is another challenge for me, though, and that is the fact that I can end the game in many ways, but only one way is truly satisfactory. If I hid outside wearing a hockey mask and holding a chainsaw, waiting for the kids to stop by, I could certainly end the threat by making sure they're scared shitless and won't dream of coming back. This would probably (definitely) be fun (and hilarious), but the problem is that I will have completely ended the game, but I have no form of payoff. I could also make it incredibly clear that someone is watching at all times, and then again, I've ended the game, but I haven't really gained anything at all.

The best way that I can think of to end the game is to capture a photo or video of the kids stealing, vandalizing, or otherwise compromising themselves in my back alley. With that kind of evidence, it would be easy to convict them, or at least get them in enough trouble to keep them away indefinitely. The problem with this method, however, is that I can only really take one shot at this, and it has to work that one time or it's game over for me. I run the risk of antagonizing the vandals, and then having them break all my stuff when I'm not around, or if it happens once, they'll know that someone's watching, and again, they'll quit coming around, but I haven't made any significant gain.

The really interesting thing about reading that whole thing is that if you think about this situation in terms of a video game, I'm not actually the protagonist. I'm the bad guy, here! That's kind of exciting, because sometimes being a bad guy can be fun. For the kids, the protagonists, the objective of the game is to do as much damage as possible without getting caught.

The kids' role in this is definitely the good guys, if you think in terms of how video games work. If you take a game like Space Invaders, or Pac Man, or any really old school game, you can look at it and say that the objective is merely survival for as long as possible. There is no winning: you will die. This is a similar situation that the kids are in. Every time they play the game, the idea is simply to allow themselves to keep playing the game at a later date. Failure only comes when they get caught, and can't continue on.

I can lay my traps, bide my time, and wait for the kids to return, but if you look at how the game is being played, the kids are kicking my (and my neighbours') ass. So far, they've gotten huge reactions out of Linda and Rabiul, and they seem to be able to continue on unabated, but I've just started to play the game, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve.

I have devised a means to play the game from the vantage point of the bad guy. I've already started the process, but more work needs to be done. In my back yard, there is a shed near my parking stall that looks pretty inocuous. This weekend, I have outfitted this shed with an FM radio transmitter, like the one pictured below.

The FM Transmitter before a couple key modifications

With this transmitter, I can listen to the sounds outside, as if I were still able to keep my window open. However, this lends me the ability to extend my realm much further than any window allows. If I take this signal that I get from my alley and output the signal into my computer, I can broadcast the FM signal on the internet, in a live stream. This means that I can listen to the back alley anywhere I can get a wireless internet connection, which is pretty much anywhere. I can sit in studio and gather information all day, every day, and log them.

Now you see it...

Now you don't.

This is only the start, however. From this position, I can alert my neighbours if need be, but I can also start to add more elements to the trap. Perhaps I could add some mirrors to my walls and desk to make sure that I can see out of my room without someone else being able to see in. I could also set up a web cam, so that when someone does come, I can capture an image from inside my room and broadcast that over the internet to wherever I happen to be. Once I can both see and hear the playing field at all times, I can start to add remote triggers to create certain events to occur remotely, like a bright light to ensure a proper photo, or perhaps some kind of auditory cue to draw them in closer to the lens of the camera to make sure that I get the shot I need.

The game is one of subtlety and patience, and I am a mere enemy in a larger game, but no one enters my lair and leaves to tell the tale.

Video Games New York

During our trip to New York, we were asked to try and locate some kind of site for our project to be located in. The site could be a physical place or merely some kind of psychological proximity, and during a walk near Cooper Union, my site found me.

The building in question is called Video Games New York, and is located at 6th Ave East and Bowery in New York City. The store drew me in because of its focus on old-school games, which seems to be its specialty. From the outside, a yellow awning with the simply written title of the store overhangs a window packed with old-school gaming memorabilia. There's a giant Sonic the Hedgehog relief, along with a progression of Sega systems he's appeared on. Next to the window, approaching the entrance, is an oddly proportioned statue of Mario, standing on a cardboard box. Once I saw all of this, I felt compelled to go inside, even though I wasn't sure where everyone was going, and was uneasy about leaving my group.

What I found inside was both exciting and somewhat disturbing for some reason. The place is literally packed wall to wall with old games. Behind the counter there are some newer games, but this kind of game store isn't dedicated to the present, it's dedicated to the past. As I walked by each shelf, I saw pieces of my childhood on display. Old games I had played, some of which I had reviewed in my time as a member of the press, as well as old systems that came out even before my time.

In a sense it was extremely exciting to have found a place like this. The entire store is like a concentrated shrine to my childhood memories. Games that my brothers and I had saved up or pooled money to buy, that were received as gifts, and that were played for hundreds of hours in some cases littered the aisles, and waves of nostalgia washed over me. The memories were comforting, but the setting was unsettling.

The store is fairly run down, and the games are jammed as tightly as can be into every nook and cranny. None of them are given any special priority, and they aren't organized in any discernable fashion. To me, it looked like the store was run by someone who didn't necessarily respect the games for their non-monetary value, although I knew someone who didn't care about that wouldn't start that kind of store in the first place.

The other thing that is quite disconcerting to me is the fact that I feel such a connection with certain games, that the games almost create a kind of map of my memory. Each game is like a fragment in time, a memory, and together they create a history for me. This map is made up of cartridges and discs, but in this store those memories are parceled off and sold to whoever wants them.

The idea of someone coming into a store and purchasing someone else's memories, let alone my memories, is an interesting thought, and one that I think deserves some real investigation.

I never intended this studio to turn into a study on video games, but once you start taking a look back into my memories, there's no way to separate them from my life. Video games are hugely important to me still, and the idea of exploring the phenomena of video games and virtual worlds is one that is extremely interesting to me.

Playing a video game is an experience that’s quite unique. Rather than passively participate in a story, like a book, TV show, or film, the video game allows (sometimes forces) you to participate in what’s happening. You do this by manipulating a “controller”, sending impulses and directions to the system, which are then interpreted by the system and relayed to the screen. The screen gives you feedback as to what’s happening and what you just input, so that you can continue to control the storyline. A video game is also different from other media in that you have an objective, and the possibilities of failure and success are always present.

There are also many proximities that are created every time you play a game. There’s a relationship between yourself and the avatar that represents you, as well as your relationship to other characters in the game. There is a physical relationship between yourself and the controller, the system, the screen, and most importantly, other players if it’s a multiplayer game.

In order to approach this relationship between video games and memory, as well as between the physical and virtual world that video games create and exist in, I would like to create an interface for both playing and creating a video game. A highly customized computer terminal created to build and then showcase a virtual world that I create based on memory could be something that would have a lot of value in exploring these relationships. Perhaps I could create a mod of a game that is based upon my memory of places and situations that have shaped my memories over the years. The resulting game would be both model and drawing, but would also become an experience that one could engage in and explore.

Precious Objects

In my review on October 5th, I was kind of all over the place. My realization that I didn't care about the events that had happened earlier in the summer (the vandalism of my car) was important for me, but also very confusing. I couldn't figure out why I didn't care, and tried to blame my lifestyle for the past five years, moving from place to place and never really attaching myself to the spaces I lived in in a meaningful way.

Of course, the question then becomes, what is actually meaningful to me? What was something that I considered precious, and what characteristics did it have that made me think of it as such? In answering this question I hope to be able to reveal some truth in what makes a space meaningful to me, rather than just an object.

The hunt for something precious was an extremely easy one for me. I only have one thing that really jumped to mind in my current apartment, and it has a lot of characteristics that make me feel like it's precious and has some deep meaning for me. This thing is a computer that I built about 6 months ago.

A computer itself isn't precious, as far as I'm concerned. They can be fun, and I'm certainly the kind of person who could be attached to one, but this computer is special, because I custom built it to be a kind of "nostalgia machine". The computer is built inside of a Nintendo Entertainment System, which is a very charged object for me itself. The NES was the first video game system that I ever owned, and spawned a lifelong love of video games for my brothers and I. I have tons of good memories that involve the NES in some way, and it was an effort to regain something I had lost that brought me to build this machine.

The NESputer, as I call it, isn't like a regular computer, either. It doesn't hook up to a monitor, it hooks up to a TV, just as the original did. It isn't meant to do work, or play new video games like my other computers, it's meant for one thing and one thing only: to relive the past. The NESputer has every NES, SNES, Master System, Sega Genesis, Neo Geo, and TurboGraphx 16 game ever made on it, so I can play any game that I want, whenever I want. Of course, this means that I look back to my past and play games that I used to love when I was young.

The games themselves are fun, and I enjoy them, but video games mean more to me than entertainment alone. A lot of my fondest memories of childhood revolved around video games. My brothers and I ate slept and bled video games for years, and so did my circle of friends. They were something to play when we were over at each other's houses, they were commodities to trade, and they were something to anticipate and read about and be excited by. It was a world that was exciting and something that I felt as though I owned because I was very passionate about it. In fact, my first job that I ever had was writing video game reviews for an online magazine called Gamer's Pulse. I got the job by lying about my age and sending in some reviews I had written about other games that I had posted online in other forums, and I held the job for three and a half years.

I don't find video games as exciting anymore. I think this realization is what lead me to build the NESputer. It's like a time capsule of fond memories and an effort to bring back the excitement I used to feel.

The NESputer has other aspects that make it precious to me, though, too. The fact that I spent three months carefully researching and designing the inner workings of the case, and a few weeks getting the parts together and actually building it make it something that I feel immensely proud of. The other thing that makes it meaningful to me is that it is extremely rare. No one in the world has the same thing I do. There are other people who have built computers inside of NES cases, but mine is special because I did it quite differently than most, and I was very uncompromising in how it was supposed to work.

My NES computer is rare, and it is special to me because I put so much time and care into getting it right, but it's the experiences and memories that I am brought closer to when I use it that really make it something meaningful to me.