Pacificon Game Expo 2008

Tonight I am heading to Pacificon Game Expo 2008.

• I got no games I am hosting

• I can pack some games in the car for open gaming.

• There's a LARP Saturday Morning that Cynthia Barnes wants me to sign up for.

• I’ll be meeting the prospective publisher of Razumijen for the to talk business face-to-face for the first time for lunch on Saturday, though we likely have met over the years, especially at Celebrate History 1998-1999.

• I have a few other obligations to juggle on Saturday and Sunday, including:

• a D&D game in the East Bay Saturday afternoon-to-evening, and
• a trip to the Alameda County Fair Grounds for the Scottish Highland Games for Legio X Fretensis, if I can make it.

My mind is awash in the fact that I am conceiving the structure for the Global Understanding Institute. The more I see it, the more it becomes clear there is a need not just for strategy simulation games, or a charitable and educational non-profit incorporated in the State of California, and more that there is a need for a new international, supernational, political movement for Global Understanding.

According to Merriam-Webster (M-W.com), Pacific means:

1 a: tending to lessen conflict : conciliatory
b: rejecting the use of force as an instrument of policy
2 a: having a soothing appearance or effect pacific breezes>
b: mild of temper : peaceable
3capitalized : of, relating to, bordering on, or situated near the Pacific Ocean

The Roman Latin etymology is “pax-ficus” which sort of means, oddly, “peace fig.” Perhaps if we all ate more fig newtons, or wore nothing more than fig leaves, or didn’t give a fig about fighting, we’d have less violence.

Pacificon means, approximately, “the state of peace/lessened conflict (pacific) with (con).” It is a good day to formally advertise and declare the Global Understanding movement has begun here in California, and to try to recruit others to the cause.

Mark your calendars for this historic date! August 29-30, 2008. At the convention of “the state of peace with.”

Yet the show proclaims itself the “Pirate King of Cons.” It is somewhat ironic the amount of wars and violent, lawless lives that are celebrated for entertainment purposes. Yet in simulating and understanding conflicts, we can hopefully learn how to resolve conflicts in the real world.

YMMV

As I move to this, I think about the amount of personal resistance and conflict I have gotten into in my own life with some people I thought would have understood what I was working towards in my life. Arguments of recent.

About girlfriends, or my current lack thereof. About religion, and the prejudices thereof. Or those prejudices held against another’s religion. About people who have been subjected to prejudice treatment in the past by others who then hold prejudices against my own beliefs, or their fears about what I may or might not belief. About 99% of their fears are utterly unfounded. About the consensus of what is true for all, or for many, or for oneself. About what makes people spitting angry, and how they tend to cut each other off in conversation.

I am no hypocrite. I have argued with the best and worst of them. Yet I have done what I can of recent to learn how to avoid arguing, or apologize. Yet in the past few months, I have been contacting some people from my past who I have lost contacts with, or broken commitments to, or who I have offended. Friends I have lost or nearly forgotten over 43 years of rushing headlong, stumbling and bouncing, walking relaxedly or tip-toeing through life.

The word apology means, basically, an explanation for an act. Contrition is when you are truly sorry. Of late, I’ve been quite contrite, and often apologetic for my own flaws. Since my layoff from Cisco in 2001, and since the folding of Green Knight c. 2004-2005, I’ve had a lot of time to be contrite and apologetic, at least internally. Yet things began to change in 2006 for me, and now it is 2008. I am doing what I can to righten and make straight that which I have bent or broken over the years.

Getting good with God, and with my fellow men and women, with plants and animals, with heaven and earth.

Peace on earth, goodwill towards men. That’s what I have on my mind and in my heart today as I get prepared to go to Pacificon. Your Mileage May Vary (YMMV).

In a way, Pacificon is like Christmas in August. Plenty of toys and games!

Yet this year, I’ll be a full adult, attending with a completely different level of interest.

I am open to the possibilities!

-Pete.

Legio X Fretensis

At last, dusting off my life for the past two years, I got around to updating the Legio X Fretensis blog. It was an amazing coincidence that sparked my desire to update it.

A while back I gave Bob Garbisch a call. Left a message. I owe him another!

Busy Day

Today I was very busy doing a few things:

• A super-secret media project! It is awesome. I am working with a genius. Fun too!

• Suicide Prevention: Out of the Darkness Community Walk

• Talked to a few kids today. I got an accidental call from a friend’s kid. We had a rather nice chat about cars. Earlier in the day, I got to make animals with my fingers, like a bird, a dog, and dinosaurs, for a 20-month old. We shared it over iChat video.

• Wrote an email explaining precession of the Earth’s axis.

Because of the Out of the Darkness walk, I spent much of the day researching and writing about suicide and suicide-homicide. I sent a message at last to the St. Jude's community. I will publish it here soon enough.

I am finally getting to a point where I am getting about as many emails inbound as I can answer reasonbly in a day. Tommorow is Sunday. I’ll do my best to use it as a day of rest!

-Pete.

1066: One Year In History You Will Never Forget

I have been harboring the idea for a movie based on the year 1066 for a long while.

I went to Normandy, Norway and Britain in 1994 to research that historic year when England was conquered. It has been 14 years since I made that pilgrimage to Stamford Bridge and Battle Abbey, the actual site where the “Battle of Hastings” was fought.

It is time to start bringing some dreams to reality.

No Longer In Service

No Longer in Service

We cannot complete your call as dialed.
Please check the number and dial again.
Alltel 54
We’re sorry.
You have reached a number that has been disconnected
Or is no longer in service.
If you feel you have reached this recording in error,
Please check the number and try your call again.

No matter how many times I dial the phone,
I missed my last chance to hug you hello
Or even, alas, to say goodbye.

My memories fade so fast
Mnemosyne has lifted them from me
So I do not need to bear them as a burden
Yet one by one, if I sit and think upon your face
The memories come back.

Of you with Jodi’s children
The trips with the kids in the van
Roving far and near
How your voice would squeak or rise or settle
Making clear the severity of what you faced
So one understood it just wasn’t something in your head
Your body was off-kilter
You needed help
And you got it
And you wanted others to get help too
And to realize what so many people face
Day in and day out
Not just any people
You.
Terry.
My friend.

Your delicate light hair, thinning at such a young age
Your nose, which I was always tempted to honk
Though I restrained myself
I was friendly enough, but…
I never honked your nose
I never said how much I loved your friendship near often enough
I was afraid to

You have my apologies
For I was inconsiderate
I never called you back about that project idea we had
Where I would dream up some brand-new technology
And you would use your writing skills to document it
And we’d put it on the web
And we’d patent it
And get rich
And be happy

Hey, Terry.
I have to ask.
Why didn’t you call me up?
I gave you my number too, you know
Any time, I said – day or night
I meant it.
I’d have loved a call from you
To hear from you
To listen to what you needed
To be your friend

Don’t you remember the June two-years’-past?
I walked the Overnight
From dusk til dawn I walked
Feeling my body pumping
Considering my own survival
For walking ten miles will tax a man’s body
At the age of 41

It was my own survival of the fittest
To get myself in shape
To push my limits
To lose some pounds
To get out of the apartment
To live a little more
And a little better

I marched for I had lost a friend from Carnegie Mellon long ago
Long before you made your own fatal choice.
Do you remember Molly?
The Southern Belle at the Beaux Arts Ball
Died just as the last dancers had crept to bed.
So very close to dawn.

I walked the Overnight so I might not ever have to know another Molly
To hear of the suicide of someone I loved
Or at least, had a crush on
Or even liked a lot

That was all part of what was driving me
When I marched off to the Danube banks in Croatia
And marched adventurously the length of Hadrian’s Wall
All to get in shape to walk that Overnight
For hope.

When all the walking was done
And I got to rest my blistered feet
It was a miracle and a joy
A fair amount of money raised for a good cause
To help save people like you

Apparently it was insufficient
For not that long ago
I had this tear-filled call from Jodi
She loved you like a sister.
Yet love was not enough
Ah, well.

So, Terry, you know what this means,
Don’t you?
You realize what you’ve started now?
Yep.
It’s true.
It’s also pretty simple.
It means:
We’ve got more walking to do.

Today’s walking is going to be fun.
Blue skies.
A sun so brilliant it shames any diamond sold
A walk with perky Jodi and her bubbly kids
At the County Fair in San Mateo
Terry, seriously -- you’d love it!

While you may now be no longer in service
I vowed to live my life that way
And so I must rededicate myself to serve
Those in need.
And do the best that I can.
And keep walking.

Meanwhile, give my best to Molly
I remember you both fondly and well
I hope you have both found
A finer, grander, peaceful place

In memory of Terry Young.

If you wish to help honor Terry, and to help all the others of the world in similar crises, please support me in the Out of the Darkness community walk, September 27, 2008.

A New Day Dawns

Sun Rising over California, 7 April 2006 © Peter Corless

It is 5:45 AM. As the day dawns, I have accomplished a great deal, and look at a great deal yet to accomplish. Forgive me world, for I shall need to sleep. Yet there is one more thing to be done before sleep takes me. And yet another. Through this all, I am content. I feel a profound sense of purpose. I am on an adventure, as I was on this morning two years ago when I took this photograph.

• Video Too Dark

I wrote the above this morning, just as I shot the video in the early morning hours. I get into a different sort of mindset past the midnight and towards the dawn.

We shall have to see where it leads. At least for this morning, at 8:30 AM, to the Saturn of Steven’s Creek dealership!

8 Days Offline

You may notice over history how I started my blogs during 2006, then stopped, and then in 2008 I started them up again. If you are curious as to what happened to have spurred such a change in my life, and why, please read my new “blogette” 8 Days Offline.

It’s the utterly epic, non-fictional tale of how I got unplugged, and then, when I got plugged back in, life looked was pretty much the same, yet was utterly and profoundly different.

Enjoy!

-Pete.

Pete on YouTube

This was my first video for YouTube. It is for the Global Understanding Institute.

• globalunderstandinginstitute.org
• globalunderstandinginstitute.blogspot.com

Please let me know what you think.

Working on Global Understanding Institute

Yesterday and today I did work on the Global Understanding Institute, including launching the organizational web site:

• Global Understanding Institute Web Site (http://www.globalunderstandinginstitute.org)

And also posting an introductory video on YouTube:

• Intro to Global Understanding Institute (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYm17f0iRoc)

You can go to the Global Understanding Institute blog to read about what I am up to these days.

-Pete.

Renewal of Life and Light: A Single Light and Out of the Darkness

I recently committed to support and contribute to two non-profit organizations.

The first is A Single Light. I wish to aid them provide clear information and referrals to various services for people affected by cancer. Nathaniel Montgomery is a leader, a passionate personality and driving force behind this non-profit. There may be some way Flowers in the Cracks can aid in art therapy for cancer victims. We'll have to talk about this in a future gathering. Or leave your comments about how our themes may help support each other.

The second is the Out of the Darkness community walk at Crissy Field in San Francisco on September 27, 2008. This walk is in support of the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). My goal is to get $1000 in donations, to match what I raised for the 2006 Overnight. I have already garnered $200. In fact, I want to blow that goal away. Please contribute what you can to show your commitments for this cause.

Both of these charities poetically adapt the terms of light and darkness to represent hope and hopelessness in the face of life-threatening challenges. Both require significant personal commitment to overcome. To submit to and endure the necessary cancer treatments and possibly invasive operations, or to summon the day-to-day courage and desire to affirm one's will to live. The risks to survival are not a mere poetic figure of speech. Each failure or setback in cancer or suicide prevention or treatment results in a myriad of suffering: near-death traumatic experiences, chronic suffering, possible lifelong crippling, or a fatality.

Some Statistics

• The Center for Disease Control (CDC) estimates 1.34 million people were diagnosed with cancer in 2004; these people joined an estimated 11.1 million Americans who are living with a previous diagnosis of cancer.

• The 2008 SEER report estimates a 40.35% lifetime risk chance of being diagnosed with cancer

• In the same SEER report, cancer causes an annual death rate of 189.8 per 100,000, and has a 5-year survival rate of 65.3%.

• A 2007 CBS study of 45 states who provided data disclosed 6,256 military veterans had committed suicide in 2005; moreover, veterans suffer a suicide rate double that of the general population (estimated between 22.9 to 31.9 per 100,000, vs. 8.3 per 100,000 for the general population).

• In 2007 active duty US Army deaths due to suicides (115 lives lost) were the highest rate ever recorded since the Army began tracking in 1980.

• A 2007 report by the National Police Suicide Foundation determined that on average per year, 450 police officers commit suicide annually; three times the average of 150 deaths in the line of duty.

• In 2007, there were an estimated 1,100 murder-suicides, according to the Violence Policy Center. This includes the proverbial “going postal” violent deaths in the workplace, the Columbine-style massacres in our schools and colleges, and the shocking shootings on our buses or in our places of worship. Yet even for all the sensational press coverage, true and grim statistics show 75% of such deaths occur in the home.

Hopefully we can shed more light on these serious incidents of suffering in our community. This year I had a friend commit suicide because of a confluence of medical and financial problems all compounded. I will tell you more about Terry in the future. For now, just know that I have lost someone personally to suicide this year. Likewise, I know someone who survived cancer in recent years, a pair of friends at church whose wives are undergoing treatment, another person who had a “false positive” test result for cancer, and possibly countless others whom I acquainted with who suffer in quiet and modest stoicism.

If they are ill, and I am healthy, I will walk for them. If you are busy, and I am free, donate to my walk. This is part of my commitment for Flowers in the Cracks, and that spirit of renewal and healing in the world.

My prayers and best wishes to anyone affected by these weighty health and mental well-being issues. If anyone ever needs to call to talk about these issues, or what Flowers in the Cracks can do to help ameliorate or alleviate suffering, I am at 650-906-3134, or email petercorless{at}mac.com.

Good morning to you all,

-Peter Corless.
petercorless@mac.com
650-906-3134 (mobile)

What do Al Yankovic and Ghandi's Passive Resistance Movement have in common?

Tonight I saw Al Yankovic at the San Mateo County Fair. He was awesome! I went with a buddy, and then also met a college friend and his son. On the way in before the show I grabbed some information for my political interests. I found there is a Republican with the last name of Conlon (my middle name, from maternal lineage). I also watched a bit of a flower-arranging class. More on that will be reported in Flowers in the Cracks. I also spoke to electricians and insulation experts about solar power and energy-saving materials that leads into my 20/20 by 2020 thoughts.

Then the big event! I got some t-shirts. Sat down. Me and my buddy were all excited. I recall clearly how I felt instantly transported back to 1986, as the sound system played the pre-show tunes of Joe Jackson singing “One More Time” (“One more time, one more time, say you're leaving, say goodbye, One more time!”) and INXS singing “What You Need” (“I’ll take you, I’ll take you, where you want to be...”).

Then the lights dimmed and the show opened! We sang! We cheered! We were totally laughing and living it up. Around us, the mostly white-and-nerdy audience was enthusiastic, clapping a lot, but somewhat resistant to stand up and dance.

In fact, my buddy told me to sit down at one point. I did so, yet felt vindicated when seconds later Al himself asked everyone to get on their feet! Everyone was enthusiastic, at least as far as clapping and cheering, yet reserved. Withholding a bit. Staid. Passive. Resistant to moving themselves. I saw some other people on the far side of the room up on their feet and wondered why such enjoyment was isolated.

I mean, holy canole!!! It was a great show! The band was tight and polished! The video clips, especially with Kevin Federline, were hilarious. The musical segueways were as polished as the reflective wheels on Al’s Segway. My bud and I sang the lyrics we knew with a gusto! The encore of Albuquerque was awesome! My head was rocking back and forth like a dashboard bobblehead. I am sure people sitting next to me wondered if it was going to snap off my neck.

For those now eager to go see him live, one note: bring your cell phone.

We all gathered together afterwards and talked about a myriad of things over Italian sausages and Pepsi — subjects ranging from rental housing lawsuits to healthcare costs in America. On the way to the car, I ran into a couple I hadn’t seen since Celebrate History in 1999! Yet I clearly remembered the woman in the couple and even pointed her out to my buddy. She was in the Greater Bay Area Costumer’s Guild, and was indeed the woman who was the subject for Dr. Mesmer’s experiments in hypnotism as part of our 18th Century Salon. They have a nice little business now: starchytuber.com. Then, with email and phone numbers exchanged, it was off for home.

After I dropped my buddy off down near Campbell, I was still in a great mood and utterly not tired. So on a lark, I went to Alberto’s Night Club, on West Dana Street, off Castro Street in Mountain View.

Although I usually expect to hear salsa music when I go in, tonight the place was filled with the desi music of India. The place was like a massive Bollywood party! India turned 61 years old today. The “July 4th” of a different culture. Apparently Fridays are now Bollywood night! I blinked a bit when I was told the cover was $45. (More than the $30 price for a VIP ticket to see Al!)

I walked away a bit, got under a light in front of Books, Inc., and finally extricated and counted out enough squunched up bills in my pockets. Turned around and headed in.

It was a blast! Dizzy dancing all around! I soaked it all in and felt like I was 23 again. Everyone was partying with everyone. There was a freedom, a joy, an exuberance that was utterly liberating. High-fiving! Enthusiastic shouts of joy! Smiles on every face. I danced with guys showing off their masculine moves. I danced with a very nice and pretty young woman in a traditional sari. I peeked up in admiration at the beautiful costumes and women in the Bollywood movies showing up on a video screen to the side — Disney has no monopoly on making feel-good musicals!

I lost myself in my own happy dance listening to the rhythm of music from half-a-world away, yet recognizing the same sorts of beats and banter patterns to be heard from any modern DJ anywhere in the world from Mumbai, India to Mountain View, California, from Mayo, Ireland to Montevideo. Here was no passivity. There was a bit of passivity and resistance from a few corners to get up and dance. Yet so many made up for it!

Bump, bump, bump! Went the beat.
Dance, dance, dance! Went the feet.

The place was filled with shimmying, swirling, swishing bodies. The men were all tigers, on the prowl. Though most all of the guys seemed as harmless and friendly as Tigger. The women all seemingly-innocent lambs, though I caught a bit of an alluring arched eyebrow and an enticing smile here and there indicating they were possibly looking to get caught! Yet not by me. I did indeed feel my age. Though the dancing made me feel young, I had an “I remember when” feel in my heart. Some of these young people were probably not alive when I was first out of college and dancing in the New York night clubs.

One point of correction I must make for myself. First I thought it was the 60th anniversary of India’s birth. No, I was wrong. The partition was 1947. Perhaps I was thinking of Ghandi’s assassination, which occurred this year on January 30th, in 1948. Regardless, the place closed down to the enthusiastic singing of songs in foreign tongues and the to-be-expected lingering of clumps of friends and the pretty young women leaning into quite handsome young men for a closer conversation.

I wandered back to my car around 2:00 am. It had been about 6 and a half hours of pure fun since Al Yankovic took the stage. Probably one of the most totally fun times in my life. Certainly one of the most refreshing experiences I had all year.

On the surface, the obvious connection is that on the same night, I saw a show by Wierd Al and danced to celebrate the Indian independence that Ghandi’s movement brought about. On a second level, I was able to see and compare how at both events passivity and resistance of people can be used to bring about social change (getting up and dancing the night away), or it can be used to avoid getting involved in the world around us. They are also connected, at least in my life, because Al Yankovic and Ghandi both inspired me in different ways. Wierd Al with the ludicrousness and humor of existence. Ghandi with the sublimity and profundity of it all. They are a yin and yang pair.

Afterwards, I logged into WoW just to see if some friends were still online. They were, but I really didn’t do any questing. I just chatted with them about movies, games and books. I conceded to read Atlas Shrugged finally, though I have never been an Ayn Rand fan, philosophically. I also inspired a friend to watch the movie Witness.

One final note: As I was typing this up, researching the genre that is Indian desi dancing, I came across this video, which reminds me of a hybrid of Wierd Al does Desi. (Though he’d probably be more likely to do Desi Arnez.)

A Distant Relative

Here is an artist in the north of England. Wow! Relatives all over the place. Artists, at that!

“Up Corless!” as the Irish would cheer.

Shanachie Records

I love the collection of world music sold by Shanachie records. I have a bunch of their music. However, given the mess of my apartment, my music collection is all piled up and scattered around. I have more music than I can listen to, unless I hired a professional DJ like Dave Morey of KFOG to spin the hits every day.

Yet when I take a precious CD out of it's jewel case (an apt metaphor), and place it in my CD player, I am transported to distant lands and times. The world is better. Smaller. Kinder. Warmer. Nostalgic, yet futuristic. An alternate reality of where else I might be in the world. Or, then reflecting upon it, I imagine the people of those lands and cultures abroad, and I realize that I am happy that they are there. Living their lives. Listening to this sort of music.

There is a sort of resonance that is established. That “world harmony” we once sang about if we only we bought the world a coke. Unfortunately, not everyone in the world can be taught to sing... yet.

Actually KFOG has the Putumayo World Music Hour, which highlights the music of Putumayo World Music. Maybe Shanachie should call KFOG and try to get some of their records in the rotation too. That'd make me smile more!

God, I love living in the age of the Internet! A World Wide Web of music!

Global Understanding Institute - Work in Progress

I am working hard today on the Global Understanding Institute. Check out my work there.

-Pete.

20/20 by 2020 - at the CARB review meeting

On August 8, 2008, at 1555 Berger Avenue, San Jose, California, the Santa Clara County Department of the Environment held a meeting for the California Air Resources Board (CARB).

I spoke at the meeting, and I never felt more "participatory democratic electorate" in my life. More of what happened there coming soon!

Why did you stop, Pete?

I was tired. I was scared. I was lazy. I was relaxing. I was searching. I was well-off-enough to not have to care about working for a while.

I took a "life sabbatical" that took a bit longer than I expected.

Two words keep spinning around in my mind:

• Ameliorate
• Exacerbate

Many people know me, and it would be fair to say that I have, in my life, exacerbated some situations to the detriment of my own performance and the outcome of my relationships and projects. I suppose that is part of being a fallible human.

What kept me from action for a few years towards this project was the thought that I might actually, at times, do more harm than good. That rather than solve anything, I might just be stirring up things better left alone.

After coming back from Croatia, I was emotionally and psychically crushed under the weight of all that stood ahead of me on this path.

Who am I to solve global conflicts? Who do I think I am? Don't I argue with friends? By objective observation alone, apparently I can't even keep a successful relationship or career going. So how in the world am I supposed to solve problems of the world far larger than my own? "Bah! Physician, heal thyself!"

Fear plagued my thinking over time. What if, in some future day, I might say something to get a fatwa declared against me, or some offended religious group decides to boycott or plague the efforts of what I am setting out to do? Or I get sued or investigated or arrested for all sorts of increasing fantastical but possible reasons. What if, for instance, in the name of peace, some day I might get shot?

I actually made peace with the "putting my life on the line" rather easily. Moreso, I was embarrassed. Who in the world did I think I was to try to tackle this big a project? My ego stood in the way of progress because it was not being strong enough. The word, specifically, is pusilanimous -- the spirit of a small child.

Who did I think I was? "Eek!" So I hid for a bit from my worldly obligations.

If I was strong and manly, like Popeye the Sailor Man, I'd say "I am what I am and that's all what I am." The credo of the existentialist hero.

If I was Siddhārtha Gautama, I'd simply touch two fingers to the ground, and answer with the silent affirmation, "The earth knows who I am."

Jesus might ask, "Who do you say I am?"

Yet I am neither cartoon character nor a divine being. Anyone who may accuse me of being some sort of egotistical prophet should know this about me: I am quite aware of what it takes to be a superhero, and I did not pass the test with flying colors.

I'm Peter Corless. No more. No less.

Back when I began this blog, it was when I was playing NationStates. Max Barry's oddball dystopic faux-U.N. I went on my trip to Europe and when I returned, I was so zonkered from everything, including The Overnight, that I just laid on the sofa for a while and did very little for a very long time.

For the past two years, really, since around 2006 when I last tried to "get up and out of the house," I had enough money in the bank to not really do much except play games.

I did play a lot of games. I've played a lot of The Sims 2 and SimCity 4 in 2006, Civilization IV in 2007, and most recently, since November 2007, World of Warcraft.

I have been fortunately blessed with sufficient savings to have been afforded this lifestyle choice -- one that would be best described by the Japanese word "otaku."

It is not really a "job," since I wasn't getting paid, but as a game designer, I devoured these games to really understand the scope of play-over-time: factors of gameplay healthiness, such as addictiveness and burnout, replayability and customization, expansion and so on.

Over all this time, I wanted to understand both the psychology of the player and to see what the game designers were incenting their players to do based on their design decisions. All through this two-year period, I was not in denial about the unhealthiness it was causing in my own life. There are both adaptive and fun, and maladaptive and unhealthy ways to play games. I was at the outer limits.

If explorers of the 19th Century went to deepest, darkest Africa to learn the secrets of the native tribes there, I went to WoW to "spend time amongst the natives." Terra incognita of the human psyche when exposed to the environment of an immersive MMORPG. I found a fair share of abnormal psychological phenomena. Which is why I had avoided playing the game for so long. I had a feeling it would be a time-wasting phenomenon. Indeed it was, yet it has also been a learning experience. Now, when people talk about WoW, I can at least say "Been There, Done That." Yet I can also say far more, and feel more vindicated now about some specific thoughts I have on game design. Some thoughts which will likely show up in other projects I have percolating.

So it is time to put away those games and begin some work that may pay me back for all those draining hours before the computer screen.

It is time to ameliorate many things in my life, after having exacerbated them to some rather unusual extremes. I've "done the heck" out of some things in my life. So long as I put those experiences and the knowledge that came with those experiences to some beneficial use, then it will have been worth the opportunity cost of being out of the job market for a few years.

At this point, there are some things that I am doing for love. There are some opportunities emerging for earning money. In fact, I celebrate that I have a check to deposit. Not big, but it's a check. Ideally, I'd like to earn a 'right livelihood' -- something done for both love and money sufficient to meet the hopes I have for this life.

Now it is time to begin again.

Razumijen, Flowers in the Cracks, Adrienne Barbeau, Isaac Hayes

Yeah. I have sort of left this blog out to dry for a while. Like many things in life, I am just picking up the pieces and reassembling loose ends.

The good news is that I have committed to two projects again:

• Razumijen
• Flowers in the Cracks Artists Alliance

Razumijen is taking on a life of its own. The scope of what is possible is growing so greatly that, in order to properly work on it, I am going to found the Global Understanding Institute (GUI), committed to monitoring, analyzing, and providing possible models for resolution of global crises and conflicts.

Flowers in the Cracks is going to be best served as a non-profit corporation too.

I feel that it is imperative to birth these as organizations so that they can continue to take on a life of their own.

I also talked to Ron Darcy today about the ol' Celebrate History ideas we had once. I've also been in contact with Dana Lombardy. Ron suggested we all get together at some point for dinner.

In fact, I started dropping into touch with a bunch of old friends. I found a notepad in the back of my Saturn station wagon. It was indeed the pad of paper I had on me when I was first filing for Celebrate History's 501(c)(3) status way-back when. A lot of contact info from when I was running Green Knight Publishing too.

I have been thinking of filing "The Green Knight" as a new fictitious business name (a "DBA/Doing Business As") just so I can build that up as my consulting gig.

It would fit into the activism I find myself in the midst of. For I went to the Department of the Environment this week to speak a few words for public comment to the California Air Resources Board representatives who were presenting the plan to deal with Global Warming in California. The folks at Environment California (CALPIRG) invited me to the meeting.

I was amazed. They brought thousands upon thousands of cards. Each one was a show of support from a registered California voter. They each represented someone, like me, who made the simple yet clear request: ensure the plan holds accountable those who emit greenhouse gases. Require they pay the cost to the environment for their emissions.

Democracy in action!

I am meeting many people right now who are brilliant neighbors. You would be surprised who drops into Books, Inc. on Castro Street. Today, I met Adrienne Barbeau, who was speaking about her new book Vampyres of Hollywood. I asked her during the Q&A if she believed that Escape from New York was the pinnacle of her career. After a bit of laughter, she shared some news, gently: Isaac Hayes, who had played the Mayor of New York in the movie, had passed away this very morning. "Chef" from South Park is how most people would likely know of him these days.

I just found out now, reading the news of his death, that Mr. Hayes was a Scientologist and left South Park for their mockery of his beliefs. Perhaps I will return to that issue another day. For now, I'll just pass on some other memories Adrienne shared of her experience on the movie set.

Issac Hayes, she said, was always a gentleman. She spoke well of John Carpenter and Kurt Russell, and referred to Ernest Borgnine simply as "Ernie." From her smile of nostalgia, I could tell there was a great camraderie there. Yet of all the people, it was Donald Pleasance who had the best sense of humor. He was the sort of guy who would give her a quip before the cameras started rolling that made her bust up laughing.

I am usually automatically a fan of, or at least keenly interested in, any movie set in New York City. If one looks at that film's dystopic portrayal of the city in 1997, it is quite off from the actual historical outcome. The same way 2001: A Space Odyssey never lived up to its utopic or dystopic possibilities.

Thus, as the clock ticks towards 2:00 am, I am thoughtful about envisioning a future wherein the Global Understanding Institute may be solving for peace and security on a global scale. Or a world where the war and crises continue unabated regardless of the efforts of concerned citizens of the world.