I earned DP while writing this post

I fell in love with Zelda on Super NES. I played Illusion of Gaia all the way through, more than once. It’s possible that, just maybe Final Fantasy VII made me cry. But I am not a gamer.

World of WarCraft? Not really my thing. Never was interested in Doom. I can’t see the point in playing Grand Theft Auto, I don’t even drive in meatspace. Halo? Nope. I don’t geek out to the processing power needed to create increasingly detailed explosions or “realistic” major league sporting events. I dabbled in Second Life, but found the magical-sounding world of flying and teleportation more ordinary than extraordinary. Hell, I’ve never played Guitar Hero on the Wii, even though we have it at work.

I’m not looking to spend a considerable chunk of my time on a game. I’m not judging people who do; I’m just saying it isn’t really my thing. Well, it wasn’t my thing, until I found PMOG.

PMOG’s twitter bio probably puts it best: “I’m earning XP for this.” That’s right, the building up of life force or money or whatever it is that gives you power in games happens as you do whatever it is you usually do online, if you are logged in to PMOG. It’s a game layer on the web, delivered via Firefox extension.

I think MMO is a good building block (I’ve been thinking of it in terms of MMOW), and passively multiplayer is a new and intriguing twist. As with practically everything else in beta (is it me, or does it seem like half the web is in beta, and a good chunk of the other half is LOLcats?) the concept is more awesome than the execution at times. But the way it turns surfing into a steampunk narrative — the idea is brilliant.

I’ve been playing for less than two weeks, and I have a lot to learn. There is potentially a lot to do in a passively multiplayer online game, what with the missions, portals, mischief, and generosity. I think it’s a new framework for remixing and telling stories, and you can never have too many of those. Whether or not you are playing a game.

Good-bye, little blue robot

For the last few days, I haven’t taken a self portrait. Feels a little weird not to be, too — I’d been taking one every day all of last year. On New Year’s Eve, I finished up my 365 days project.

yes, I did it! (day 365)

I said when I started the project there wasn’t a compelling reason, other than seeing if I can do it and being open to what I’ll discover along the way. So, what did I learn?

I figured out new technical things, as I expected (and wanted) about my camera and about Photoshop. I became more aware of lighting. I realized that pushing for a great photo every single day would make me crazy, and that settling for plain old documenting my day so it would count was not only okay, but sometimes even fun. I learned that putting face out there — not just one time, but pretty often, enough so that people could really see me — changes things.

It’s sounds like an obvious development to me now (and maybe it should have been, considering how many years I’ve been online and writing this blog) but it still came as a surprise when people stopped by my photos and said hi. It was a surprise, and I loved it, and it gave me that warm fuzzy “I love the web” feeling every time it happened.

So I’m retiring my beloved little blue robot, which has been my icon on flickr since I opened that account, and gone on to represent me on twitter and technorati and generally any site that asks for a little square of pixels to be me.

little blue robot and me

Now I’m going to use an actual picture of me. I have enough to choose from, and see the value now in making that choice.

Happy Blogiversary to me

Hey, Google thinks blogiversary is a word, who am I to argue?

12frogs is six today. Which may be why Andrew Hinton’s recent Poor old blog post struck a chord with me:

It was such a big deal just not long ago, but now here they are, blogs, sitting around watching other, younger, nimbler channels giddily running around their feet without a care in the world. The Twitters, Jaikus, Facebook apps. The Dopplrs, Flickrs and the rest.

It’s like somebody took a hammer to the idea of “blog” and it exploded, skittering into a million bits, like mercury.

Which, really, isn’t a bad thing. I played around with stream aggregator Profilactic today — it makes what it calls a mashup from all the different things you feed it — and the most interesting part was actually pulling together the list of URLs where “my stuff” can be found online. The interface was pretty slick, and sure enough, it took the nearly dozen bits I gave it and turned it into a perfectly reasonable web page streaming my content.

Thing is, the flickr photos were medium-sized, and I really wanted them to be small. I poked around some, but there doesn’t seem to be a way to change this. No way to customize the CSS, either. I suppose wanting to do stuff like that is why I have my own blogs: so I can do what I want. Which is, again, why I liked the post on inkblurt.

I don’t know. All I know right now is, there’s my blog. With its complete sentences, its barely-touched comment threads. Its antiquated notion of being at a domain-named location. Its precious permalinks & dated archives, like it’s some kind of newspaper scholars will scan on microfiche in future generations.

Most six year olds aren’t long in the tooth, they’re what, in kindergarten? First grade? I like that idea much better. Well, not in the school lunch tray sense of the word. Really, there was nothing attractive about that. Or the round turquoise plastic attached to the tables seats in the lunch room. I mean in the unlimited play and imagination sense, in the get in trouble for the misuse of art supplies sense.

I hope I’ll have that — okay, get a bit of that back — next month, when I’m doing NaBloPoMo. Either way, you’ll be hearing all about it. From this very domain-named location.