I like building decks with cards that I have left over from drafts and Sealed events, and I'm always on the lookout for new ways to use cards that might not be effective in Standard decks, where you're always using four of each of the best cards, or Commander decks, where there's often a better option from an older set. So I have a lot of fun building decks for formats like Brawl, which give me opportunities to use a more diverse set of cards from Standard, and Tiny Leaders, which forces me to be creative by limiting the converted mana cost of the spells I can use.
So why not combine the restrictions of Brawl and Tiny Leaders and see what happens?
Monday, October 1, 2018
Monday, September 24, 2018
On Food 1: The Beyond Burger
I've been curious about meatless hamburgers for a while now, both as a disaffected Jew who wavers on kashrut and is dating a guy who thinks cheeseburgers are a good use of both meat and cheese, and as someone who's trying trying to eat less beef both for her own health and the health of the planet. But for most of my life thus far, veggie burgers have been weird and unappetizing. So it was a lovely surprise to learn that there are now two different brands of vegetarian hamburger that people think look and taste sufficiently similar to meat that even non-vegetarians will find them worth eating.
The Impossible Burger looks like more of a classy restaurant-y thing , while Beyond Meat's Beyond Burger has started showing up in such affordable places as Vancouver burger chains and the meat fridge at my local Seattle Safeway. So a couple of weeks ago, I bought myself a couple of Beyond Burgers and made them for lunch.
For about $6 US, you get two 4-ounce plantburger patties and instructions for grilling them. Not having a grill handy, or wanting to mess with pan-frying, I baked mine instead, which took 20 minutes at 350F with a break in the middle to flip them.
They came out a lighter brown than I'm used to from beef burgers, and the taste was less intense, but the smell and texture were convincingly beefy. I might have overdone them a little, since most of the juice ran out and there was less pink inside than the packaging recommended, but on multigrain bread with a slice of heirloom tomato (thank G-d for the farmer's market), one patty made most of a delicious lunch. Not all, though; it wasn't as filling as I'd expect the same mass of beef to be, and the smell lingered and made me not stop being hungry until I found some dessert.
I saved the second one for dinner and ate it with penne, mozzarella, and marinara sauce. The texture didn't really hold up to reheating, or maybe, when the flavor was covered up by the sauce, the texture was just more apparent; either way, the second burger felt and tasted a lot more like tofu. (It is not tofu: the packaging assures me that Beyond Burgers are vegan, soy-free, and gluten-free.) Since the flavor is such a big part of the meatlike experience, this is definitely a hamburger substitute, not a meatball substitute.
The Beyond Burger is a convincing meatless hamburger, but it's best as long as it's freshly grilled and the focus of the meal. If you want to be impressed by great strides in vegetarian technology, use as directed on the box and don't add strongly flavored toppings. And don't try to eat the crispy burned bits that get left in the pan. They do not taste like they're made of beef.
The Impossible Burger looks like more of a classy restaurant-y thing , while Beyond Meat's Beyond Burger has started showing up in such affordable places as Vancouver burger chains and the meat fridge at my local Seattle Safeway. So a couple of weeks ago, I bought myself a couple of Beyond Burgers and made them for lunch.
For about $6 US, you get two 4-ounce plantburger patties and instructions for grilling them. Not having a grill handy, or wanting to mess with pan-frying, I baked mine instead, which took 20 minutes at 350F with a break in the middle to flip them.
They came out a lighter brown than I'm used to from beef burgers, and the taste was less intense, but the smell and texture were convincingly beefy. I might have overdone them a little, since most of the juice ran out and there was less pink inside than the packaging recommended, but on multigrain bread with a slice of heirloom tomato (thank G-d for the farmer's market), one patty made most of a delicious lunch. Not all, though; it wasn't as filling as I'd expect the same mass of beef to be, and the smell lingered and made me not stop being hungry until I found some dessert.
I saved the second one for dinner and ate it with penne, mozzarella, and marinara sauce. The texture didn't really hold up to reheating, or maybe, when the flavor was covered up by the sauce, the texture was just more apparent; either way, the second burger felt and tasted a lot more like tofu. (It is not tofu: the packaging assures me that Beyond Burgers are vegan, soy-free, and gluten-free.) Since the flavor is such a big part of the meatlike experience, this is definitely a hamburger substitute, not a meatball substitute.
The Beyond Burger is a convincing meatless hamburger, but it's best as long as it's freshly grilled and the focus of the meal. If you want to be impressed by great strides in vegetarian technology, use as directed on the box and don't add strongly flavored toppings. And don't try to eat the crispy burned bits that get left in the pan. They do not taste like they're made of beef.
Sunday, September 16, 2018
On Usernames: StyleJam 2018
This summer, I participated in an online event called StyleJam. It followed the format of game jams, wherein a bunch of people sign up for the event on itch.io, a host and storefront for creative projects (mostly video games), and make small games on a set theme in a short time. Instead of games, though, the event was about style guides and creative bibles: creating documentation for real-life situations the way writers of TV shows and video games do for the worlds they’re creating.
I wrote a style guide for online usernames. You can read it here, and other StyleJam submissions here. StyleJam ends at the end of September.
I wrote a style guide for online usernames. You can read it here, and other StyleJam submissions here. StyleJam ends at the end of September.
Thursday, September 6, 2018
On Games Gone By 3: First impressions of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
When I started this series, I figured I'd stick to PC games, since that's the form I can most readily find and play games in. But the Geek has a Nintendo 64; and I've been watching a lot of Ocarina of Time speedruns lately, mostly as research for a potential conference paper about what the speedrunning community does and doesn't consider a glitch; and Ocarina of Time is a very popular game from the late 90s, and one of the first successful 3D console games, so I'd been wanting to give it a try.
At time of writing, I have finished the Great Deku Tree dungeon. I'm (a little at a time, because of my wrists, and only when I visit the Geek) playing the original North American N64 version with trident controller and rumble pack.
The controls are not at all what I'm used to from newer games, mostly because there's only one analog stick, so you can't move and look around at the same time. The action buttons are also weird: while I'm familiar with the contextual function of the A button, which does different things depending on what you're looking at, I find it difficult to switch between the B button, which swings your sword, and the C buttons, which activate other items, and I often found myself pressing the wrong one under time pressure. The analog stick is sensitive enough that it was hard for me to run in a straight line, and the addition of the rumble pack made the controller heavy enough that I had to rest it on my lap or on the couch next to me, though the added height made it a useful controller stand.
On top of all this, I spent a lot of time learning how to Z-target, a mechanic unique to Ocarina of Time (and probably its sequel, Majora's Mask) that attempts to make up for the lack of camera control. Even when I remembered to Z-target, it didn't work consistently; I especially had trouble locking onto enemies above me, even when I could see them.
The tutorial was very thorough, as well it should be: since Ocarina of Time was one of the first 3D console games, it had a lot to teach. It might even have been too thorough; it included so many movement and combat techniques that I left the level feeling like I'd forgotten more than I remembered, especially about Z-targeting. Some of that is likely hindsight bias, since the things I felt weren't explained enough were game-specific things like Z-targeting, while the things I thought were overemphasized were things that have since become industry standard, like the way the A button's function depends on the object you're interacting with. Maybe if I knew nothing about how video games were "supposed" to work, the tutorial would seem more balanced. As it was, I felt really tense in combat and puzzle-solving situations, and was always worried I'd forgotten something important. (Fortunately, the Geek was sitting behind me with the strategy guide and usually had something helpful to say.)
My evaluation of the game's graphics is also likely biased by my experience with later, better-rendered games, especially since the Geek keeps telling me how revolutionarily lifelike the angular, low-poly character models seemed when the game is new. So I don't really have anything to say about the quality or realism of the character models, except that a number of the Kokiris' face models fall straight to the bottom of the Uncanny Valley. I can, however, report that the Geek and I played with his TV settings for a while before we found a combination of brightness and aspect ratio that made it possible for me to distinguish helpful tufts of grass from the dungeon walls behind them.
The best part of the game is probably the story. So far, it's a typical hero's journey, but the details are remarkably compelling. I don't think I'd ever really understood before how much interactivity can add to a story: I wasn't just watching Link, I was Link, and dealing with all those dangers and puzzles and timed platforming, regardless of how tense it made me, also made me care about Link and the Deku Tree and the fate of Hyrule. The fact that I put my own name on the save file probably also helps with immersion--it's a little eerie when characters address me by name, but it makes me feel personally involved.
Rating: I can't play much of it at a time, for the sake of my wrists and my nerves, but I really want to keep playing.
At time of writing, I have finished the Great Deku Tree dungeon. I'm (a little at a time, because of my wrists, and only when I visit the Geek) playing the original North American N64 version with trident controller and rumble pack.
The controls are not at all what I'm used to from newer games, mostly because there's only one analog stick, so you can't move and look around at the same time. The action buttons are also weird: while I'm familiar with the contextual function of the A button, which does different things depending on what you're looking at, I find it difficult to switch between the B button, which swings your sword, and the C buttons, which activate other items, and I often found myself pressing the wrong one under time pressure. The analog stick is sensitive enough that it was hard for me to run in a straight line, and the addition of the rumble pack made the controller heavy enough that I had to rest it on my lap or on the couch next to me, though the added height made it a useful controller stand.
On top of all this, I spent a lot of time learning how to Z-target, a mechanic unique to Ocarina of Time (and probably its sequel, Majora's Mask) that attempts to make up for the lack of camera control. Even when I remembered to Z-target, it didn't work consistently; I especially had trouble locking onto enemies above me, even when I could see them.
The tutorial was very thorough, as well it should be: since Ocarina of Time was one of the first 3D console games, it had a lot to teach. It might even have been too thorough; it included so many movement and combat techniques that I left the level feeling like I'd forgotten more than I remembered, especially about Z-targeting. Some of that is likely hindsight bias, since the things I felt weren't explained enough were game-specific things like Z-targeting, while the things I thought were overemphasized were things that have since become industry standard, like the way the A button's function depends on the object you're interacting with. Maybe if I knew nothing about how video games were "supposed" to work, the tutorial would seem more balanced. As it was, I felt really tense in combat and puzzle-solving situations, and was always worried I'd forgotten something important. (Fortunately, the Geek was sitting behind me with the strategy guide and usually had something helpful to say.)
My evaluation of the game's graphics is also likely biased by my experience with later, better-rendered games, especially since the Geek keeps telling me how revolutionarily lifelike the angular, low-poly character models seemed when the game is new. So I don't really have anything to say about the quality or realism of the character models, except that a number of the Kokiris' face models fall straight to the bottom of the Uncanny Valley. I can, however, report that the Geek and I played with his TV settings for a while before we found a combination of brightness and aspect ratio that made it possible for me to distinguish helpful tufts of grass from the dungeon walls behind them.
The best part of the game is probably the story. So far, it's a typical hero's journey, but the details are remarkably compelling. I don't think I'd ever really understood before how much interactivity can add to a story: I wasn't just watching Link, I was Link, and dealing with all those dangers and puzzles and timed platforming, regardless of how tense it made me, also made me care about Link and the Deku Tree and the fate of Hyrule. The fact that I put my own name on the save file probably also helps with immersion--it's a little eerie when characters address me by name, but it makes me feel personally involved.
Rating: I can't play much of it at a time, for the sake of my wrists and my nerves, but I really want to keep playing.
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
On the Stack 11: Yasova Dragonclaw and the story of Core Set 19.
The story for Magic the Gathering's Core Set 2019 is a series of flashbacks telling the origin story of two of Magic's recurring characters: the evil Elder Dragon planeswalker Nicol Bolas and his enigmatic rival Ugin, known as the Spirit Dragon. While both of these characters have been in Magic Story for years, the flashbacks stand on their own as a tale of sibling rivalry writ extremely large across planes and millennia. But their framing device relies on the story of three Magic sets from almost five years ago, and as a result, if you're new to Magic and its lore, it may be hard to follow.
I started playing during the set after all of this, so I didn't see it as it happened. But here's what I've learned from reading flavortext and the wiki.
I started playing during the set after all of this, so I didn't see it as it happened. But here's what I've learned from reading flavortext and the wiki.
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
On Music 2: Dog on the Floor
Raffi Cavoukian's new album, "Dog on the Floor," is not for everyone. After all, it's fifteen songs for children, performed by a Canadian guy who's been known for writing children's music for longer than I've been alive. But if you have children, or if you like children's music, or especially if you grew up listening to Raffi, this is a must listen.
I have been listening to Raffi since before I can remember, and his music has always been a comfort (with the exception of "Evergreen Everblue," which was my introduction to environmentalism and has some songs on it that kinda scared me as a kid). Baby Beluga and Bananaphone are family traditions, and when I moved to the Pacific Northwest I remembered that Raffi had written a song about a place very near to where I was going to live. This was the first new Raffi album I'd heard about since "Bananaphone" (though he's produced several others in the meantime), and so when it came out last week, I ordered it on CD and prepared for a major nostalgia trip.
And I got exactly what I came for. "Dog on the Floor" comes from the same place, both geographically and philosophically, that I remember from my childhood. Raffi, along with local children and other professional musicians, sing about the joy of being a child ("Play Play Play"); the pastoral ideals of the British Columbia Gulf Islands ("Market Day" and "The Way it Goes"), and animals, especially the titular dog, Raffi's poodle/collie mix Luna (in "Luna's Song," "Walkin' My Dog," and "Dog on the Floor"). The lyrics paint a picture of a world that's much less complicated than the one I live in, and lets me remember, or perhaps imagine, a time in my life before I had to worry about anything.
But there's at least one song on this album that's as much for today's worried grownups, as it is for children: the next-to-last song, "Take a Breath," is a meditation on mindfulness, a reminder to take a moment every now and then to breathe, to stretch, to sing (and it doesn't hurt if what you're singing is a Raffi song).
The voice of my childhood is back, and he's telling me it's going to be okay. And for me, that's reason enough to listen.
I have been listening to Raffi since before I can remember, and his music has always been a comfort (with the exception of "Evergreen Everblue," which was my introduction to environmentalism and has some songs on it that kinda scared me as a kid). Baby Beluga and Bananaphone are family traditions, and when I moved to the Pacific Northwest I remembered that Raffi had written a song about a place very near to where I was going to live. This was the first new Raffi album I'd heard about since "Bananaphone" (though he's produced several others in the meantime), and so when it came out last week, I ordered it on CD and prepared for a major nostalgia trip.
And I got exactly what I came for. "Dog on the Floor" comes from the same place, both geographically and philosophically, that I remember from my childhood. Raffi, along with local children and other professional musicians, sing about the joy of being a child ("Play Play Play"); the pastoral ideals of the British Columbia Gulf Islands ("Market Day" and "The Way it Goes"), and animals, especially the titular dog, Raffi's poodle/collie mix Luna (in "Luna's Song," "Walkin' My Dog," and "Dog on the Floor"). The lyrics paint a picture of a world that's much less complicated than the one I live in, and lets me remember, or perhaps imagine, a time in my life before I had to worry about anything.
But there's at least one song on this album that's as much for today's worried grownups, as it is for children: the next-to-last song, "Take a Breath," is a meditation on mindfulness, a reminder to take a moment every now and then to breathe, to stretch, to sing (and it doesn't hurt if what you're singing is a Raffi song).
The voice of my childhood is back, and he's telling me it's going to be okay. And for me, that's reason enough to listen.
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
On Games 7: Just Shapes & Beats
Disclaimer: I did not play this game. I will not be playing this game, for reasons I will explain in a minute. My review is based on this 6-part let's play series by Dan Floyd on his delightful channel PlayFrame. While my opinions are my own, they may be influenced by Dan's enjoyment of the game.
Because Dan Floyd really likes Just Shapes & Beats, which was released in May 2018 by Berzerk Studio, and he recommends it repeatedly to his viewers as he plays it. But before you rush out and buy it (if you haven't already), there's a major accessibility issue I need to bring to your attention.
Just Shapes & Beats is full of flashing lights. It's a bullet-hell rhythm game in which obstacles appear and disappear in quick succession following the beat of fast-paced electronic music. While there is an "epilepsy-friendly" setting that turns off flashing backgrounds, and there's undoubtedly a way to turn the contrast down, there's no way to make the movement of actual in-game objects less sudden, and watching the let's play series consistently gave me headaches, a sure sign that I would not be able to play the game myself.
But I kept watching in spite of the headaches, because there's so much that Just Shapes & Beats does well.
Because Dan Floyd really likes Just Shapes & Beats, which was released in May 2018 by Berzerk Studio, and he recommends it repeatedly to his viewers as he plays it. But before you rush out and buy it (if you haven't already), there's a major accessibility issue I need to bring to your attention.
Just Shapes & Beats is full of flashing lights. It's a bullet-hell rhythm game in which obstacles appear and disappear in quick succession following the beat of fast-paced electronic music. While there is an "epilepsy-friendly" setting that turns off flashing backgrounds, and there's undoubtedly a way to turn the contrast down, there's no way to make the movement of actual in-game objects less sudden, and watching the let's play series consistently gave me headaches, a sure sign that I would not be able to play the game myself.
But I kept watching in spite of the headaches, because there's so much that Just Shapes & Beats does well.
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