It was May and outside the sky was so dark that if someone told me there was a sudden chance of meteor shower, I’d have believed it. I found it comforting, because when it’s too sunny out I don’t want to work on anything. I remember thinking this exact thought about a year ago when I began wrapping up the code for v2.5 of First Paradise, an ASCII game.
Consider it madness, but staring at static and occasionally mobile keyboard characters for extreme periods of time stimulates my imagination in ways that only my fellow brethren (and sistren) can understand. I mean, it’s the kind of thing you discover after being sleep deprived and bored at the same damn time. You can’t ease into it, you’ve just gotta hop in and hope you can escape with your perception intact.
So straight off the top, give me an ‘@’ symbol, place the letter ‘D’ next to that sucker and I got:
“The beast stood tall and imposing, it’s teeth bared like sharp yellow knives against gums dark as night. My sword grew heavy, threatening to abandon my grip as only a heart made of cold steel could. Perspiration dotted my forehead, I began to dread what came next for I knew now that I had grossly underestimated this capital letter ‘D’.”
If you’ve ever played Dwarf Fortress then you know how deep the rabbit hole goes, and how intense and vibrant that community is. Hell, I could get lost in Simutronics’ Elanthia for days. I can be run down by zombies for knocking over a teapot in Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead. I can be anywhere and be anything. Sometimes I can die and do it all again and if I’m lucky the game world continues on without me if I don’t.
I think it’s funny that Einstein’s definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Fuck, that sounds like a really good roguelike! Do I think we’re all nuts? No. We’re just a special breed who’s definition of insanity means almost always getting different results.
Honorable mention: Insanity roguelike
Don’t Miss: The Impatient Programmer