What is in a Name?

Part of the fun in making my own beer, other than the obvious reward of getting to drink it and share it with friends at the end of the process, is in naming my various creations. Before I started putting it in kegs, I bottled it myself, and every time, I would design a label to go with the name. Sometimes I drew it and sometimes I used clip art, but it was always fun. Frankly, it's the only thing that I miss about bottling.

I was designing beer recipes today, which happened to correspond with my ordering of the various ingredients online. One of the beers that I shall be making later this year is an American pale-bodied pilsner with complex notes of fruit, some European flavor and hops from Oregon that smell faintly of cannabis. I'm calling it Rick Steves. 

Watching his show, or other travel shows, helps make up for the fact that we can't go anywhere right now. It's not as good as a vacation, but at this point, I'll take it.


Twitter

Now that Drumpf isn't on Twitter anymore (that's still fun to say), I've started using it slightly more, which is to say occasionally. This past week, I've pretty much just been using it to yell at the television during the impeachment trial, a practice that has proven to be only mildly cathartic. Sadly, I know that it's going to take a lot more than that to preserve the integrity of our democracy. 

You can follow me @sands_zach, if you're into that kind of thing. Even though I still rarely use social media, please feel free to like me. Just like everybody, I like being liked. Every once in a while, I might even say something funny and/or intelligent in 140 characters or less. You never know. 

For me, the hardest thing about using Twitter is ignoring my inclination to employ proper grammar, or not choosing the right word just because it doesn't fit in the space available. Also, I'm kind of a compulsive editor, but only because I know that first drafts of anything tend to be inferior to what they could be if revised and polished. Even these three simple paragraphs underwent a number of reivisions before taking their present shape. 


Anything Goes

Keeping with the title of this blog, I've decided that this is the place where I will write about whatever I feel like on a given day. You may have noticed this. While I do have pretty diverse interests, they are all interconnected in certain ways. 

Plus about the only thing that I enjoy as much as acquiring knowledge and wisdom is the act of sharing these things. That's why I've been teaching college courses for over a decade. It's also why I created this blog. While the ideas that I seek to convey in these venues are quite different, the idea behind them is more or less the same. 

I believe that knowledge and its byproducts are worth exponentially more when shared, so I try to do whatever I can to make that happen. 

If you like my work, please share it with others.

Domestic Terrorism

More often than not, I think that the flames of terrorism are fueled by a perceived lack of other options. If your life is shit, then you have very little to lose, and some grandiose "higher calling" may seem a lot more appealing than whatever else you had going. I suspect that this is true no matter where a person lives. 

I've spent a good portion of the past few days watching the impeachment trial taking place in the Senate. To call what happened anything less than an act of domestic terrorism is to be complicit with what transpired. To have organized, provoked and commanded it is to be a willing accessory to murder and a traitor to the US Constitution. This should be as plain as day to anyone who is paying attention. 

As I watch this footage, I keep thinking: what rational person could have possibly believed that his or her life would be any better if they went to the Capitol with the intent to do harm to our democratically elected officials? Who thought that this was a good idea? And what exactly did they think January 7 was going to look like, anyway? Was it going to be like the end credits of Fight Club? Did they think that their credit card debt would suddenly be erased and that Kid Rock would replace [the proposed] Harriet Tubman on the $20 bill? Did they think that their king was going to knight them? Did they think they'd be cracking some brewskis in the Senate Chamber with Ted Nugent, with everybody putting their feet up on desks, keeping it real?  Or did they think that the nation would fall into complete anarchy, and that they could finally live out whatever other violent fantasies they had constructed? What was the endgame here? They must have known that a terrorist attack on the Capitol would not fundamentally change the way that our government functions, right? From the point-of-view of these terrorists, was this all just one big glorified act of self-destruction that was designed to bring down the entire nation with them?   

As I've written in a different article on another blog, when people don't believe that they have any kind of a future, this sense of impotence sometimes pushes them into doing terrible things in order to overcompensate for this. "My life sucks, so fuck you. Now my life matters." This is the terrorist's creed. As a domestic terrorist group organized under the flag of Donald Trump, it seems that most of the people who invaded the Capitol subscribed to this basic tenet, resulting in a rabid expression of toxic masculinity times a few thousand, all instigated and coordinated by their dear leader and his accomplices.    

By becoming part of a group, it lends a person a sense of belonging. I get that. This is why so many people give a shit about sports, and it's probably a large part of why organized religion still exists. Being a willing member of any collective can provide an amplified sense of self-importance relative to the size of the group in question. It feels good to believe that you are a part of something bigger. The dark side of all of this is that if a thousand other people believe the same crazy shit that you do, then it suddenly lends credence to your own batshit conspiracy theories. Of course, I think that most people need to already be in a pretty desperate state before they can accept the level of delusion that motivates them to commit heinous acts of violence like this. There are fans, and then there are fanatics, just like how there are pious individuals and there are zealots. A rational person knows the difference.

Desperation is rooted in fear. When people are afraid that they have no other options, they sometimes cling to something far more primitive than rationality and logic. This might account for some (but, of course, not all) of the people who buy into the unending bullshit delivered to them by a failed mail-order meat salesman who possesses an almost inhuman lack of humor. I have never understood why anyone would buy anything from this guy, but I think it's that they want to see something of themselves in this false image of winning that is such an integral part of his brand identity. A lot of these people wish that they too could shit in gold toilets and cheat on former fashion models with porn stars. Drumpf repreresents the crass vulgarization of the American Dream

But if he is indeed a symptom and not the disease itself, then what happens next, regardless of the outcome of this impeachment trial? I think that a lot of middle-America has given up on the idea of a government that works for them, and electing a professional bullshitter (arguably his only skill) to high office is the cynical expression of this existential despair. His "presidency" was nothing if not a series of calculated acts of destruction, itself a form of domestic terrorism. That said, I believe that the key to fighting the degenerative diseases of hopelessness and hate at the core of our society that led to this orange pus sac occupying the White House in the first place is to implement policies that provide more Americans with real opportunities to improve their lives, a chance to imagine and achieve a better American Dream. I believe that the Biden administration needs to invest in the alleviation of poverty in rural areas as well as in urban centers by helping to provide more opportunities to improve one's station of life in these places. 

By design, a democratic system of government is intended to be a tool for the people and by the people to protect and improve their standard of living -- not one person's standard of living, but everyone who resides within that nation's borders and who calls him/her/themself a citizen. Any form of government is capable of being corrupted, because even a perfect system is run by imperfect human beings. Some of them are in fact far less perfect than others, but very few of them get impeached twice in the same term. The only solution to ending the corruption that plagues our body politic is for there to be accountability for our public officials, for civility is a requisite to civilization

Finding the Patterns

Video games and I grew up together. Sometime in the early eighties, my parents bought an Atari 5200. Over the years, we accumulated a handful of cartridges for it, including Frogger, Dig-Dug and Pac-Man. These games were all about finding and exploiting patterns. For that reason, I tend to think that they were incredibly beneficial in the development of this particular skillset, which would later translate to a lot more than just being good at old-school video games. After all, music, comedy, narrative and metaphor are also about working with familiar patterns and then diverging from them in interesting ways. That is to say that I think much of my skill as a writer has been nurtured by playing video games over the years. I'll explain.
 




In Dig-Dug, there would be a certain path that I would take through each level, and the key to doing well in this game was to memorize those routes. In a similar sense, Frogger was about negotiating your way through a series of patterns in order to get your frogs home safely. There might be three logs, then two, all moving swiftly to the right, while just past that was a row of sea turtles in that same basic pattern, but moving in the opposite direction and with two of them disappearing at regular intervals. Pac-Man was more or less the same idea: find the most efficient route to take around the screen in order to eat all of the pellets while avoiding the ghosts, except immediately after you've eaten a power pellet, when you can then turn around and eat the ghosts. 





This was all pretty rudimentary stuff. In the decades that have passed since I was a kid playing Atari, of course, video games have gotten considerably more advanced, and the patterns within them have become far more complex. It really has been amazing to witness firsthand the evolution of video games. The technological advances made in this industry over the past forty years has been nothing short of incredible. 






When I was in college, I had an original Playstation, but I gave it to my brother after Final Fantasy VII called me out on the load screen for having played it for over a hundred hours. At the time, I thought that was crazy and that I shouldn't spend that kind of time playing this and Tony Hawk's Pro Skater (which, incidentally, is also largely about finding and exploiting patterns in the environment. So is Super Mario Brothers, for that matter). As a general rule, I still try to avoid video games for the most part when I'm in deep with a big project that I'm working on, including my two stints of graduate school and the two years that I spent abroad. That said, now that I am an advanced scholar of media and culture in my own right, I still recognize the intellectual value in playing them, now perhaps more than ever. 






I have long been a huge fan of the Legend of Zelda games. In my opinion, when they work, they work exceptionally well (the original NES game, Ocarina of Time and Breath of the Wild), and when they don't (the rest of them), well, I just don't play those games. That in mind, one of the things that I most appreciate about this series is the developers' willingness to take chances. Sometimes they pay off, and sometimes they don't. This is the nature of experiments. When these experiments are successful, they fundamentally advance the idea of what video games can and should be. I also like these games because they are full of puzzles. Personally, my favorite part of Breath of the Wild (other than maybe the cooking) is probably the shrines. I love how the designers of these games are able to incorporate the puzzles seamlessly into the action. 




There is only one series of games that I probably enjoy even more than the Zelda games, at least in terms of replayability, and that is Hitman. That might surprise people who know me personally, especially since I'm not generally a fan of violent media. In fact, the most recent screenplay that I wrote was essentially a war movie in which no one is hurt or killed in the entire thing. That said, I like the Hitman series for many of the same reasons that I have already discussed, plus a few more that I shall explain shortly.






I first came upon this series by doing a web search for a type of game that I thought should exist: something with secret agents, disguises and special gadgets. When Hitman popped up, I thought that I might need to refine my search, but then I got the 2016 Hitman game for cheap and played it. What I had expected to be a brutally violent game isn't really that, exactly. I mean, it can be, if that's how you play it, but in my experience, I find that it's usually best to avoid a gunfight or anything like that. In fact, if you kill anyone other than the bad guy who is your intended target, then you lose a massive amount of points, which is one of many ways that the game developers incentivize strategy over unadulterated violence and mayhem. 





There are a number of things that are quite brilliant about these games. Among them is the fact that you can play the same level a thousand times and do it differently every time. It's kind like a choose-your-own-adventure book in that sense, and I tend to think that games such as this actually do use the same part of the brain as that which processes narrative. After all, when I'm writing a story, I am basically trying to get a character from point A to point B to point C in the most interesting way possible. Engineering a plot is creative problem solving, and for me, that is precisely what is so appealing about these games.





Every level is its own detailed world full of thousands of variables to be affected by a player's choices -- an expansive sandbox in which to create the story that that individual player wants to experience. Do you disguise yourself as a guard to get in close to your target and then throw a screwdriver at this person from across the room? Do you make them sick with poison and then follow them to the bathroom in order to avoid retaliation from armed observers? Do you use a sniper rifle from the next building over? The possibilities are nearly endless, and many of them can indeed be quite creative.





On a personal level, having each of these vast worlds to explore also helps to fulfill my sense of wanderlust, which has otherwise been all but rendered dormant by the pandemic. When I play Hitman, I get to travel to Italy, France, China, India, or any of the sixteen other locations, where I walk around in a simulacrum of this environment, like a form of virtual tourism. In fact, I think that this is probably why I have played more of these games during the pandemic than ever before, too. It's the next best thing to leaving the house, plus it's kind of fun to walk around in a world where I can have almost complete control over my environment. It's certainly a stark contrast to having to wear a mask everywhere I go out of a legitimate fear of microscopic organisms. 




Hitman 3 just came out a couple of weeks ago, and from what I have seen of it so far, it seems perfectly worthy of being a part of this series. In the same way that Hitman 2 took the basic ideas at play incrementally further than in the first installment, the third and final game in this series does this as well. In short, it appears to be everything that I hoped it would be: a good way to vicariously explore digital representations of the outside world while crafting an engaging and immersive narrative as I go. As an added bonus, it provides a challenging intellectual exercise that uses the same part of my brain as writing. 





Much like Pac-Man, the Hitman games are fundamentally about finding and exploiting the patterns of non-player characters, but this time around, how you approach the tasks at hand can be significantly different every single time. Are these games violent? It depends on how you look at it. In Pac-Man, you killed the same four ghosts over and over, whereas in Hitman, you usually have one or two targets per level. In both cases, however, I think that it's worth remembering that they're just pixels. Parents were just as worried about Pac-Man back in the day. The Hitman games don't train people to be assassins any more than Dig-Dug teaches kids to dig tunnels in their backyards and shoot dragons with some kind of air hose or whatever. Playing Hitman develops players' ability to recognize patterns in their environments, as well as the abstract thinking skills necessary to solve problems creatively. These games are also a hell of a lot of fun.