#oneaday, Day 318: One Day in Gameland

In discussing Deadly… I mean DEADLY PREMONITION with a couple of others recently, we came to the conclusion that the universe of games has such a distinct logic, such a distinct culture, that you could probably write an entire treatise on the culture, physics, metaphysics and theology of Game-Land.

I will settle for one blog post.

  • When you wake up in the morning, any and all injuries, however serious, will be completely healed, unless you make your home in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, in which case you will either need to give yourself an injection in the affected limb or visit a doctor, who will be able to heal absolutely any injury and make you completely intact within a matter of minutes.
  • If there is food on a shelf, pick it up. No-one but you needs to eat.
  • By extension, eating food also heals injuries, unless you're in Greenvale.
  • If you're in Greenvale, no-one gives you a second glance if you're standing in the middle of the road chugging back a can of Hollandaise sauce followed by wolfing down a turkey sandwich which cost $75.
  • People only open doors if they absolutely have to and frequently just walk through them instead. This includes you. If you were planning on going outside, open the door, wait for 30 seconds, then step outside. Otherwise there will be nothing to walk into and you'll simply fall into the void, never to be heard from again.
  • You can survive approximately 1.5 point-blank shotgun blasts directly to your face without permanent disfigurement.
  • In fact, you can survive any injury without permanent disfigurement.
  • If something "really important" is about to happen, no-one will mind if you do something else—anything between popping out to shop for some groceries to going on holiday to the other side of the world. The "really important thing" will still be "about to happen" when you get back. Enjoy yourself for a while.
  • After completing a repetitive task such as stuffing envelopes or chopping onions, you will notice yourself getting noticeably better at said task at increasingly-longer but predictable intervals.
  • Chop 200 onions in a row without hurting yourself for a special prize!
  • Sometimes when you talk to people you will have to read something they've written on a piece of semi-transparent plastic while they flail their arms around like a Thunderbird.
  • Occasionally, people will sound like they are speaking Japanese at you, but the semi-transparent piece of plastic will have English writing on it.
  • All shops you visit will sell exactly four items in an extremely niche category, but will purchase anything you have in your pockets/backpack/suitcase/on the back of your pack mule.
  • On that note, you will own a backpack which is capable of holding twenty suits of armour, four hundred weapons of different varieties and up to 99 bottles of each and every liquid you find. This backpack is invisible.
  • You will never, ever need to go to the toilet, even if you have drunk all 99 bottles of one particular liquid, unless 1) you feel like you are being forced by a giant green diamond above your head to do things in your own home that you probably would have done anyway, 2) your son has been kidnapped or 3) you know, or are about to come into contact with, someone whose son has been kidnapped.
  • Anything red will heal all your injuries if you imbibe it somehow.
  • Anything blue will make you less tired if you imbibe it somehow.
  • People with long white hair are always evil, even if they seem to be quite nice chaps.
  • People with short white hair are often sullen, but good people.
  • People with spiky hair or who are bald are probably on the way to save the world, especially if they are carrying a sword and/or a gun. Be nice to them.
  • Be careful when stacking shelves: lining up three or more of the same thing in a row always causes them to disappear. Stack tins of soup in a checkerboard pattern to prevent this from happening.
  • Pick up every flower, bird feather, human-looking bone or flag that you see: there will be someone somewhere in your neighbourhood who will give you "something good" if you bring them enough.
  • Having a conversation with someone doesn't require any actual interaction on your part. Just bump into them and they'll tell you something about the nearby caves, forest and/or the local big corporation.
  • Talking to yourself is absolutely fine. You may either do this by voicing your internal monologue, especially when looking closely at inanimate objects, or keeping a semi-transparent piece of plastic and a marker pen in your invisible backpack at all times.

Sounds like a simple life, doesn't it? Ah, if only we could apply game logic to the real world sometimes…

#oneaday, Day 317: Snow Joke

First up: DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE TITLE IT'S CLEVER AND FUNNY AND BUGGROFF

Ahem. Anyway. It has been snowing. It being winter, it thankfully hasn't caused anywhere near as much panic as the last time it snowed, when it was headline news pretty much 24/7. Granted, it did snow quite a lot, though I got the impression that Canada and Scandinavia and, err, other places it snows a lot were laughing at us quite a bit for our complete incapability to deal with a bit of the white stuff.

Snow is a mixed bag. Some people love it, others hate it. As with most things, though, there are good and bad things to it.

Bad: cold.

Good: pretty.

Bad: wet.

Good: inspires creativity.

Bad: receiving a snowball.

Good: sending a snowball.

Bad: walking when dressed inappropriately.

Good: walking when dressed appropriately.

Bad: driving.

Good: not being able to drive and getting a day off work.

You get the picture.

It actually snows here in the UK—at least in places where I've been living—rather less than you might think, with whole years going by sometimes without a trace of the cold stuff. Even so, it always astonishes me quite how surprised people seem to be when there is even the slightest bit of snowfall. It inspires panic buying and the importing of grit. Grit! The stuff you find on the ground. Yeah. Ridiculous.

I just went out for a run in the snow. It's cold, snowy and icy. It is also difficult to run in, though I found that after about ten minutes or so, I didn't feel it any more. This was perhaps due in part to the number of layers I was wearing (which probably also contributed to my relatively slow speed tonight) but also due to actually being active. Or perhaps I was just so frostbitten all my extremities had fallen off.

I have one particularly enduring memory of the snow from my childhood: out in the garden with my brother and some of his friends, carving a lovingly-crafted likeness of Arnie from snow. This lovingly-crafted likeness of Arnie was wearing a jock strap which was lovingly carved with a little bit too much care and attention, as I recall, but the finished product looked awesome. There are probably some photos floating around somewhere, but this was the days long before the Internet, let alone Facebook, so you won't find those pictures anywhere online.

Most recently, my experiences with snow have been negative. Driving in the snow is particularly unpleasant. I recall one night I was driving home from the school I worked at at the time—a trip which normally took about 50 minutes—and it took six hours. Six hours. At least one of those hours was spent in a genuinely terrifying position halfway up a steep hill with traffic in front and behind, praying to God that my brakes worked properly.

Right now, though, I can look out of the window at the thin white covering on the street and admire its pleasantness. All the more so having just been out in it.

Doesn't stop it being bloody freezing even inside, though. Wrap up warm.