Sunday, November 6, 2011

The Slow Hunch: A Response

It seems rather appropriate that as I finished this chapter, I finally came up with what will arguably be the lynchpin of my potential website. In fact, a slow hunch is an accurate description of the idea for this site in general and many other unusual ideas I've had for stories, video games, and even philosophy. For years now, I've been developing a theory about the world that many would consider cynical, and although there was a moment I can point to as the "eureka" where the idea finally took complete shape, I know that it was actually a slow hunch that is still developing in my head as time passes.

The theory itself is one that argues all reality--from the objective perspective--is constantly in a state of equilibrium and that no matter what we do, that equilibrium will cause things to break even much as they do in physics. For instance, a period of economic expansion will inevitably be followed by a period of recession that--if the two were quantified based on intensity, benefits, and negatives--would ultimately not make us better off, but simply change our current state. This idea is considered cynical because it says that our world and humanity can't actually improve; that we can only shift or change the state we're in, much the same way matter can take the form of solids, liquids, or gases. As we all know, none of these states is unquestionably superior to the others under all circumstances. They are simply distinct states of matter. In the context of the previous chapter, it can be argued that liquids are the most balanced and productive state, but that doesn't mean reaching for balance does not demand sacrifices that equal the potential good that could come from pure chaos or pure rigidity. As time has passed, this idea--which I sometimes refer to as "Equilibrium Theory"--has grown and evolved. Like all theories, it has flaws, and the slow hunch that started them is still coming to me bit by bit over time.

In terms of game ideas, I once read a novel called Redwall. (Surely you've heard of that one Mr. Hedges.) I thought to myself that there should be an interesting way to translate something like that into a game. Something that involved mice and rabbits and other animals, but was clearly distinct from Redwall's setting. This idea stayed with me for years and at one point even morphed into something simpler: a game where you simply play as a mouse living in the walls of a house trying not to be detected by humans or cats. But that didn't seem like something that could work very well or be original enough. Then, several years after the initial idea came to my mind, I walked into Wal-Mart looking for PS2 games to purchase and noticed a game called Pirates: The Legend of Black Kat. I realized at once what I'd been missing: the setting needed to be different. In my mind, I took the mice and animals I'd wanted to use as a central part of the game and transposed them over the high seas, pirate setting, and today my idea is called "Pirats: Hearts of Gold." Naturally, this idea has not been created, and as I've thought more and more about it, the shape of the potential game has morphed into a strategy, sandbox, platform-adventure hybrid that will require some REALLY good programming to function properly, should it ever be made.

Reading about the commonplace book made me realize how important writing down ideas really is. I just might start keeping one for every insight I have. Because I know from experience that--as the textbook says--it's difficult to keep slow hunches alive, though I would add that sometimes they die off for a reason. Not all slow hunches--especially the ones I get from dreams--are ideas that are really worth pursuing. Stephen King mentions that his novels are entirely based on situations and not upon plot notes, and these situations occur to him as slow hunches. But he always gives each of them time to gel in his desk drawer before taking them out to work with them. This allows the more interesting ideas to mature while the worse ones die off.

In any event, this chapter was extremely interesting, and in the process of reading it, I finally got an idea for what my site should be focused on: reviews of entertainment reviewers. A site dedicated to using psychology and philosophy to analyze why gamers and/or critics view a game the way they do, break it down, and suggest a different way to look at it. There could be ratings of the individual people doing the reviews, perhaps with a ratings system similar to the ones that are used on gaming sites and in gaming magazines. (i.e. a number from 0.0 to 10.0, 0 to 5 stars, or perhaps just a choice of adjectives) In addition, there could be forums for presenting viewpoints that are atypical and discussions that go deeper than they do at traditional gaming websites. Discussions that involve psychological principles and philosophical thinking. I'm still not sure what to call my site yet--though I continue to get suggestions from my friends--but this is a big turning point for the project.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to create ratings meters, implement forums, and...oh crap. I've still got a ton of work to do! Bye! :)