1691: Reborn

I had one of those curious epiphanies on the way home. You know the ones. Or perhaps you don't.

Anyway, I digress.

My epiphany was that I felt like a new person today. I felt like I was in the middle of a new beginning, like I was getting a chance to pretty much "start over" and try again.

Of course, this isn't strictly true, what with me being 33 and thus on that ever-downward slope towards middle age, old age and eventual death rather than a fresh-faced (I'm not sure I was ever fresh-faced) youth in my early twenties looking forward to the future. But I'm glad I did get this new chance to start again, and I don't intend to squander it.

The trigger for feeling this way is, of course, the fact that I really have made a new beginning by starting a new job and hopefully a new career. In just two weeks on the job, I feel like I've made some new friends, learned some new skills and made a good first impression.

And it's put a lot of things in perspective, too. Most prominently, my feelings surrounding the echo chamber of social media.

My typical working day now looks very different to how it did when I was working from home. I no longer have Twitter perpetually open on screen or on my phone; I don't check Facebook at all; Google+ has fallen totally by the wayside, particularly since the Squadron of Shame jumped ship to its own forum a while back; and I spend most of my time either actually doing work, interacting with people through internal emails or speaking with them face-to-face.

And it's blissful. Blissful, I tell you. You might call it wilfully shutting out issues that need to be addressed; I call it a haven of calm, and I can already feel my mental health improving because of it.

Being constantly bombarded with the noise of social media at all hours of the day — as I voluntarily subjected myself to when I was working from home — is actively stressful, anxiety-inducing and even depressing. It shouldn't be — it should be a positive thing — but it is.

Part of this is down to who you follow, of course — like real life, putting the people you interact with regularly through a rigorous filtering process until you're left with the people you genuinely like is important — but with the nature of modern social media, sometimes you get things thrust in your face without you going looking for them. The clearest example is Twitter's Retweets, which can expose you to people and opinions so far divergent from your own as to create genuine anxiety (and also people who go on to become firm friends, it must also be said), but it also happens whenever Facebook makes one of its inexplicable decisions to show you a post from someone you don't know that one of your friends commented "lol" on forty-seven comments back from where the argument is now raging.

This is why I'm enjoying the peace and quiet of not being permanently plugged in to social media, and why I feel like a new person. I can switch off, focus on the people around me and the work I'm supposed to be doing, and I can enjoy it. It's pleasant. Very pleasant indeed. And it makes me wonder why the hell I've been voluntarily putting myself through all this for the last few years.

And this doesn't mean that I've lost interest in the things I previously immersed myself in. On the contrary, it means I can just enjoy them for what they are. I can enjoy games purely on the virtue of them being great games; I don't have to give a shit about whether The Internet thinks something I enjoy is terrible and wrong, or whether I find the latest indie darling to actually be rather tedious.

In short, I feel like my rebirth has been a wonderful thing all round, really. I'm still in the honeymoon period, of course, and I'm sure my new life will bring with it a torrent of new things to be anxious about, but for now I'm enjoying it very much indeed; long may it continue.

1683: Peace and Quiet

At my new job, I don't have full Internet access yet — I only just got access to the office network — and thus I can't spend all day gazing at Twitter. Fiddling around with mobile phones during working time is also somewhat frowned upon — not that this stops some people around my area doing it — and so I haven't been tempted to sit there pulling-to-refresh all day. In fact, my phone spent most of today locked in my desk drawer.

My God, how pleasant it is to be free of social media, and in a three-dimensional environment filled with real people who are nice and pleasant and have senses of humour and don't spent every waking hour filled with an all-consuming rage about something, anything, everything. (My manager claimed to be "in a rage" with the IT department when I arrived at work this morning and my login credentials still weren't working, but it was one of the most mild-mannered rages I've ever seen, particularly compared to the worst the Internet has to offer.) I can feel an improvement to my mental health already, which is confirming something that I've suspected for a while:

While social media is great, I also think it has great potential to be harmful.

I'm not just talking about the "everyone, even hateful idiots, being given a voice to broadcast their opinions" thing here. I'm also talking about, from my own personal perspective, the frustration, annoyance, anger and feeling of impotent helplessness that stems from seeing other people being so utterly, wilfully stupid and being unable to convince them that yes, they are, in fact, being a bit of a dick.

This is my own issue, of course; I take a lot of things personally, particularly online, and when someone disagrees with me aggressively — as many people tend to do on the Internet, because respectful disagreements are rapidly becoming a thing of the past — I feel like I'm being attacked. Hell, I've seen friends of mine get attacked for something innocuous they've said, and, of course, there's that horrible incident I suffered a while back that actually led to me leaving Twitter altogether for a while.

For people like me, though, this isn't a healthy mental attitude to take, and it's here that social media's biggest benefit — the opportunity to expose yourself (not like that, pervert) to people you otherwise would never have come into contact with in a million years — is also its biggest drawback. The reason you would never have come into contact with those people in a million years without social media is because you move in completely different circles and you are fundamentally incompatible with one another. And, you know, that's sort of fine, really. If coming into contact with these people leads to nothing but arguments and aggression, that's not a valuable social interaction. No-one is learning anything from that experience; there's no "cultural exchange" going on.

This isn't to say you should only ever surround yourself with an echo chamber of people who feel the same way as you, of course. Work somewhere with a large number of people and it's likely you'll come into contact with at least a few people you simply don't get on with, for example — but when dealing with those people face-to-face it's much easier to just simply either stay out of their way or at least be polite to them; online, meanwhile, there are no filters in place, which means there's nothing stopping people with fundamentally different ideologies from calling each other every name under the sun. And not stopping until it escalates into full-on abuse and harassment.

I'm still keeping Twitter around for now, since it's my main means of communicating with a lot of far-flung friends around the globe. But my few days of going "cold turkey" during the daytime have all but broken my habit. And that, I can't help but think, is a good thing.

I promise I'll stop writing about this shit tomorrow and write about something more cheerful and/or interesting instead.

1679: Countdown

Tomorrow is a bank holiday here in the UK — a public holiday to you Americans; I'm not entirely sure why we place so much emphasis on the "bank" part, aside from the fact that it means the banks are usually shut — and also my last day of "freedom" before I become a cog in the corporate machine.

I've mentioned before that I'm actually quite looking forward to starting my new job. It's a daunting prospect, of course — it's a new place of work, new people to work alongside, a new role and a whole new industry to be a part of — but it's something that I'm eagerly anticipating, rather than dreading. Why? Well, partly because it's something new to do, and something that will help me feel like I'm leading a more "normal" existence — as pleasant as the freedom of working from home can be, it's a lonely existence that can become surprisingly stressful and trying after a while, particularly when you have no-one around you to bounce ideas off or just vent a bit of stress — and actually building a career rather than just constantly treading water.

The other reason is something that's become readily apparent since I stepped back from the games industry. In fact, it was already becoming apparent when I was still involved with it. And that "something" is the confrontation that seems to be at the heart of the various parts of the industry's interactions with one another on a daily basis.

Frankly I don't want to get into a discussion of what's been going on recently because it's all been done to death elsewhere, and it tends to lead to frayed tempers on all sides. If you're that curious, I'll point out that it started here, passed through here and will hopefully end here and leave you to make your own mind up, perhaps with some of your own research filling in the blanks. If you're shocked at what you read — if indeed you can be bothered to read all of it, since there's a whole lot there — then good, you should be; there are plenty of things under discussion that need examining without one side complaining about "social justice warriors" and the other complaining about "neckbeards". But unfortunately that's never going to happen because the games industry has a collective mental age of about 14 — and yes, I count all sides of the debacle in this group in this instance — and is thus unable to discuss anything reasonably or rationally without immediately jumping to the most extreme viewpoints possible.

I'm happy to be out of it, frankly. My new job may be in a somewhat more stereotypically "boring" sector — utilities — but I can pretty much guarantee that said "boringness" (and I use that term relative to the dynamism of the games industry) will bring with it a lovely atmosphere of calm in which people don't feel the need to aggressively state and restate their views on a daily basis; in which Internet hate mobs aren't dispatched to harass and belittle other people; in which I can just get on with my work, come home in the evening, switch off and just enjoy some video games.

Two more days to go then. Hopefully my posts towards the end of this week will continue with a positive outlook!

1676: Cleaning Up

Following yesterday's post, I've been having a social media cleanup. This started with the unfollowing of about a hundred people last night — some of which I felt a bit guilty about, as I'd previously considered them friends; in other cases, they were former colleagues that I'd thought I might stay in touch with. That already helped a great deal, but there was still some unwanted noise on my feed, largely through retweets and Twitter's irritating new habit of adding other people's favourites and random tweets from other people's followers to your timeline. Those people were swiftly blocked so hopefully I will never have to encounter them ever again.

All this may seem somewhat harsh, particularly for a platform as open and public as Twitter is. But some reflection has revealed to me that it's really the only way to handle it and stay sane. And it's not, in fact, all that harsh at all, really, when you compare it to real life: after all, we carefully cultivate our real-life friendship groups and, over time, tend to whittle them down to groups of people that we particularly like, enjoy spending time with and have something in common with. We — well, I — don't try to be friends with people just because I feel that I "should" be friends with this person. That's high school stuff, trying to get "in" with the gang of cool kids; that way lies only madness, or at the very least a life where you're unwilling to be able to just be yourself with confidence.

And so Twitter is the same for me, now, particularly now I don't "need" it for industry networking and the like. My Following list has been whittled down to the people I actually enjoy interacting with — a healthy mix of game enthusiasts, game developers whom I have some sort of personal connection with (even if that's just having met them and enjoyed a chat with them), anime fans, and a few people I know in "real life". I'm no longer following people I feel "obliged" to follow — people who are often held up on a pedestal as being "important" to some cause or another — and I'm not following any celebrities. Insufferable arseholes who get retweeted into my feed are quickly blocked without mercy — no sense feeling guilty about it, since I probably wouldn't want to follow them anyway — and those who do nothing but indulge in lame hashtag games for hours on end are also swiftly removed from my following list, at least temporarily; permanently if I haven't actually spoken to them for a while.

It's kind of sad that we've got to the stage where this level of "friendship curation" is necessary, but it's a side-effect of the social media age and the fact that the Internet has brought us in touch with far more people than we'd ever be able to have met in reality. I'm pretty sure there's an "optimum" number of friends or acquaintances for a person to have, and over and above that level everything just starts contributing to an overall, growing amount of white noise — noise that occasionally becomes intolerable. I'm gradually — hopefully, anyway — finding a good balance that hopefully won't drive me mental, and which hopefully won't necessitate me abandoning the genuine friends I have managed to make via Twitter.

In the meantime, I'm trying my best to migrate a lot of gaming discussion over to the Squadron of Shame forums, which you can find here. While the Squadron of Shame was originally a group of people who came together on the 1up forums, I know I for one would be very happy to see some new blood over there, too — particularly if you are, like me, the sort of person who'd rather have a lengthy, wordy discussion about a favourite, underappreciated game than think that "lol" or "cool story bro" is in any way a valid contribution to a debate.

Hopefully I won't have to write about this sort of thing again for a while.

1675: Two Negatives Make Even More Negatives

Today has been one of those days where I've been considering jacking Twitter in altogether. What was once a friendly, fun, enjoyable place to hang out — and a place where I've been able to make a lot of friends I otherwise would never have come into contact with — is rapidly becoming an echo chamber filled with people that I don't particularly want to associate with. It's becoming somewhere where I don't feel particularly welcome.

I shan't get into details as the latest spate of Twitter outrage is plastered all over the Internet and really doesn't need any more publicity, but I will say that, as usual, both sides of the argument in question are acting like complete tools. There's the aggressive, unpleasant, filthy undercurrent of the Internet supposedly harassing people for their beliefs and supposed transgressions, and on the other side, the people defending themselves and their friends often stoop to personal insults, hypocrisy and outright ranting. Anyone left in the middle, wanting to take a rational viewpoint on the whole thing, is left branded as an awful person regardless of how much sense they're actually speaking — if you don't stand on the side of the group that has painted themselves as the "good guys" then you're worthless human garbage, no better than those that are supposedly sending "death threats". (And don't even get me started on the semantics of how that term is liberally misapplied.)

At the core of this never-ending parade of outrage, argument and public shaming is a group of people who claim to believe in "social justice". Who wouldn't want to stand up for social justice, right? The trouble is that the term "social justice warrior" has picked up severely negative connotations owing to the behaviour of some of these people supposedly fighting on the side of equality, freedom, all that good stuff. Which is daft, when you think about it — as previously noted, who would say they were against social justice?

And yet the criticisms of many of these "social justice warriors" and the way they go about their business are often valid. They use aggression, harassment, sweeping generalisations, public shaming — many (though, it must be said, not all) of the tactics they are quick to condemn the seedy underbelly of the Internet for — to get what they want. Disagree with the way they do things and you're "tone policing". Disagree with some of things they are saying and you are a misogynist, sexist, transphobic, terrible person who should be hounded until the end of time until you apologise, and then hounded further when you are forced into an apology because it somehow wasn't good enough. The people involved make this group huge, influential — and quite often in possession of a really quite unpleasant mob mentality.

I'm utterly sick of it. I don't care. It sets me on edge. It makes me anxious. I'm nervous about even posting this in case one of these armchair activists gets hold of it and decides to twist my words into something that doesn't even resemble what I originally said — as happened to YouTube personality "TotalBiscuit" earlier today.

This surely isn't what these people want. This surely isn't a good way to go about raising awareness of social issues. Certain quarters of Twitter now scare me and make me feel like I can't talk about certain things for fear of reprisals — from the side that paints themselves as the forces of Good. I've done my best to ignore, unfollow and even block the people who are most unpleasant about all this, but it's still not the friendly, welcoming place to hang out that it once was. And that really, really sucks.

I've culled my Following list by a hundred people this evening. If that doesn't filter out this never-ending, anxiety-inducing noise, I'm setting my account to private. If that doesn't work, then it's time to say goodbye to Twitter — for good this time. I wouldn't be the first from among my group of friends to do so — for these exact reasons — and I probably won't be the last.

1666: You're Never Finished

Occasionally, my mind gets into an almost comatose loop, and I find myself going round and round the same websites, over and over again. I hate the loop — and I'm growing to hate the websites and all that they stand for in 2014 — but still I do it compulsively, habitually, regularly.

First I'll check Twitter. Then I'll check Facebook. Then I'll check Google+. Occasionally I'll poke my head in the sites for my Final Fantasy XIV guild or the Squadron of Shame, but more often than not, it's just those three sites. And there's rarely anything interesting to see on any of them — but still I feel compelled to do it, particularly if there's a little red number at the top of the page.

The same is true on my phone. I'll check it every few minutes, looking for little icons across the status bar and hoping that something interesting might have happened. But it rarely does, and still I do it.

I'm talking about "notifications", one of my least favourite developments in modern technology. Turns out I have the sort of brain that gets extremely uncomfortable if something is left "unfinished"; if a little red number is there, suggesting that there's something that requires your attention.

Trouble is, most notifications these days aren't necessary. On Google+, since the Squadron of Shame moved its base of operations to its own site, the only notifications I get are from people who gave a comment I left on a YouTube video six months ago a "+1", saying that they "liked" what I said without actually having to interact directly with me. On Facebook, where I rarely post any more, my only notifications come from replies to a comment thread I long since lost interest in. And Twitter's 2014 incarnation sees fit to notify you not only when someone replies to you, but also when they "favourite" or retweet something you posted — or, in comedically ridiculous levels of Inception-style madness, when someone retweets something you retweeted.

The provocation of this sort of compulsive behaviour is entirely deliberate, of course; these sites' use of notifications — and mobile app developers' use of notifications, too, for that matter — is designed to get you doing exactly what I'm doing, which is visiting the sites or booting up the apps several times a day just to see if the notifications are anything useful. They inevitably aren't, but there's always the hope.

Provoking this sort of behaviour can't be healthy. It doubtless plays havoc with people who already have more obsessive compulsive tendencies than I do, but just from a user experience perspective it's frustrating to never feel like you're "free" — there's always something out there demanding your attention. Look at me, that little red number says. I'm important.

It's because of all this that I find myself considering daily whether or not I should nuke my social media presence altogether and simply interact with people through more private channels — email, blog comments, chat messages, the Squad forum. Every day it gets more and more tempting to do so, so one of these days soon I might just do it — and this time for good. This isn't what I signed up for at the dawn of the social media revolution.

1662: Moving Pictures

Call me a traditionalist, out of date, out of touch, whatever you like, but I'm really not a fan of the current obsession with video as the be-all and end-all of publishing things online.

I have numerous feelings about this, not least of which is the fact that as a former member of the gaming press, it smarts to see my particular skillset — writing compelling words about my specialist subjects — being sidelined in favour of video, but as a consumer of online content, it also frustrates me immensely, too.

Put simply, I like to read. I prefer to read. If I see an interesting-sounding link on social media, I'll read it if it's text, but if it's video I will, nine times out of ten, not watch it. And this is true whether I'm sitting at my computer or browsing on phone or tablet — though it's particularly true when I'm browsing on a mobile device, since due to patchy network reception and exorbitant data charges, watching video on the go is often, to say the least, a somewhat subpar experience. Text is much more desirable in these circumstances. (This is to say nothing of live broadcasts, which are even less desirable than video on demand to me.)

There are types of content where it's simply easier to refer to text, too. Take game guides or tutorials in general, for example; while video can show you the things the creator is trying to teach you in context, it's difficult to refer back to specific points or cross-reference things, whereas this is a snap to do with text. Again, if I'm using a mobile device to browse this information, I much prefer having the information open in front of me to keep referring back to, rather than watching a video and having to take as much in as possible, perhaps over the course of several viewings. It just doesn't seem like a very efficient means of delivering information — particularly when that information is complicated.

This isn't to say video can't work, of course. Video is a great means of delivering educational content that you passively absorb rather than actively refer to while working on something. Crash Course on YouTube, which my friends Mark and Lynette introduced me to recently, is a good example of this.

And video is great for comedy, when said comedy has been written to be performed in the form of video. Glove and Boots is my current favourite example of this:

I just get a bit annoyed when people make sweeping declarations about video being "the future" of online content, as if those of us who still like to read words on a page rather than watch and listen are somehow irrelevant. Like so many other things, there are plenty of different tastes out there, and lots of different ways of doing things. Rather than only pursuing one to the exclusion of all others, let's accept that fact: continue to provide relevant, interesting content to all people and all tastes, not just the fashionable, young market who, at this point, are obsessed with video. My individual opinion may not matter all that much, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person out there who will close a tab without checking out an "awesome" link if the link turns out to be just another video.

1646: Tongueface

I can't remember if I've blogged about this before or just pondered it on Twitter — and, writing this on my phone from bed, I can't easily check — but what the hell. Let's do this!

I do not know what the tongueface smiley — a colon followed by a P — means. Or rather, I have the odd feeling that a significant number of other people in the world think it means something different to what I think it means.

To me, tongueface smiley represents someone sticking their tongue out, and that in turn is something that I've always considered to be a mild rude gesture — a childish, non-offensive and somewhat light-hearted alternative to flipping someone off. You'd perhaps use it as a response to someone gently mocking you, or revealing a piece of information that, while not earth-shattering or mortifyingly embarrassing, you'd still prefer wasn't public knowledge.

Here's an example of how I expect it to be used:

Phillipe: You're putting a shelf up? Can you even do that? I thought Andie wore the pants when it came to DIY.

Pete: :p

Or possibly:

W'khebica: Hey, everyone, did you know Amarysse fell off Titan Extreme on the first Geocrush?

Amarysse: :p

You see? Both situations where, were the conversation happening face to face, you might want to actually stick your tongue out, assuming you are seven years old.

However, I've noticed an increasing use of tongueface smiley as a form of punctuation — a la the use of "lol", which thankfully seems to be dying down a bit — and I honestly can't get my head around it, much how I couldn't get my head around how people could possibly be laughing out loud at the most seemingly mundane and stupid things.

I'm not against the use of smileys per se — I use them myself quite a lot as a means of making things like flippant comments abundantly obvious — but I remain confused by the current and widespread (arguable) overuse of tongueface smiley.

Perhaps I'm just too old to understand. :p

1634: Pee Aitch Pee Bee Bee

Been digging around in the guts of PHPbb (or is it phpBB?) today to help get the Squadron of Shame's forum looking the way we want it to. And while there's still some work to do, things are coming together very nicely.

I haven't really explored a self-hosted forum solution before — I've set up forums for various people in the past, but have always made use of pre-made free services, since that was all we needed to fit our needs at the time. In the case of the Squadron of Shame, we're trying to make this place our permanent home on the Interwebs, since we've been flitting around from place to place every so often ever since the 1up forums imploded.

Mostly, I've been impressed with phpBB's (let's go with that spelling for the sake of argument) flexibility and customisability. There are a whole lot of options you can tweak, and in doing so you can make the forum function in plenty of different ways — you can adjust the way users can interact with it, assign various levels of permissions to users, allow or disallow various board features and extend the functionality with plugins and mods.

The only real downside to it all, so far as I can make out, is that installing the aforementioned plugins and mods looks like a bit of a pain in the arse, eschewing a handy-dandy automated install process a la off-the-peg CMS systems such as WordPress and instead in most cases demanding that you edit multiple HTML, CSS and script files, uploading new files to the server and generally doing a whole lot of things manually.

It's been relatively minor issue so far, though, since most of the things I've wanted to do with the board have so far been covered by phpBB's comprehensive administration panel — including uploading attachments such as images, which is something that appeared to be significantly more difficult to include in previous incarnations of phpBB (we're using version 3).

It's been interesting, though, since, as I said above, it's not something I've really poked around in before. I've been learning a lot about what phpBB is capable of, and how it provides a flexible solution for building an online community with relatively minimal fuss. Of course, I haven't been getting involved on the hardcore coding and styling side of things — I'm leaving that up to my friend Mark, fellow founding member of the Squad and someone who does this sort of thing for a living — but I have been doing things that I'm able to easily resolve through a bit of tinkering in the admin panel. (I'm less likely to break things that way, too; past experience with manually fiddling around with templates and CSS files has taught me that I'm good at breaking things.)

Plus there's always the possibility that this sort of knowledge might prove useful in future job hunts. You never know. And it's not as if I have anything better to do right now, is it?

1631: GO GAMERS

The Squadron of Shame forums are coming along nicely — they're pretty much ready for the public to show up and start posting in now, so if you're at all interested in computer and video games and find that places like NeoGAF and its ilk aren't quite fitting your needs — in other words, you like to use paragraphs and write posts that include more than ten words at a time — then do feel free to come on over, sign up and start mingling with the rest of the community, who are slowly trickling over.

Forums are the spiritual home of the Squad, since it's where we, as a group, first came together. But they're also one of the most long-standing parts of the Internet — one aspect of the ever-changing digital world that has actually managed to remain reasonably constant over the course of the last 15-20 years or so.

I recall my first experience with forums fairly vividly. Our first Internet service provider was CompuServe, one of several providers that, at least initially, didn't offer "true" Internet access, instead opting to provide its users with a gated set of online services exclusively for subscribers. (Full Internet access eventually came later, initially in the form of the ability to send email messages to Internet addresses instead of just CompuServe IDs, and later full-on Web access.) As part of this "gated community", CompuServe offered a swathe of forums on a whole host of specialist subjects. Unsurprisingly, I quickly found an online home in the GAMERS forum — you clicked the "GO" button and typed "GAMERS" to get there — and had my first experience of mingling with the online community.

The term "online community" these days has a certain number of negative connotations, due in part to the perpetuation of the narrative that the majority of people who post things online are somehow "toxic", and the fact that indeed, some people who post things online are somehow "toxic". But back in its early days, it was a different matter. "Flaming" and "trolling" were established terms, but they tended to be seen fairly rarely. There were extensive glossaries of the then-new emoticons and acronyms that started to creep into everyday usage, and new terms like "netiquette" were coined to describe how you should interact with other people online.

I honestly can't remember a whole lot about the sort of things I posted and discussed on the Gamers' Forum on CompuServe, but I do remember one thing vividly: I was into Wolfenstein 3-D at the time, and had been experimenting with a variety of mod tools for it, at least partly because I'd been helping a local shareware dealer write his catalogues that included a selection of Wolfenstein add-ons and editors.

Anyway, yes; I was into Wolfenstein 3-D and had spent quite some time working on a selection of new levels — ten of them, in fact. I uploaded them to the Gamers' Forum's download area for others to have a go at, but didn't think anything more of it and certainly wasn't expecting any feedback or anything.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I was contacted by a gentleman named Carlton, who claimed to represent Apogee, the publisher of Wolfenstein, and also claimed to be interested in including my levels in an official expansion pack for the game. I'd be paid, he promised, and appropriately credited.

Frankly, I was at a loss as to what to do at this stage, but after some deliberation and discussion I took a chance and got in touch with Carlton, who took my contact details and promised to be in touch in short order.

Not a lot happened for a while, but then one day a package showed up. Inside it was a cheque for $200 and three floppy disks — one containing a full, registered version of Wolfenstein 3-D, and two containing the official expansion pack, the Super Upgrades pack. I installed the disks, browsed through the directory containing the game — and sure enough, there were my levels, credited to me. I was a professional game designer.

And all because of a forum. Pretty neat, huh?