I was a Rice student at this event, and I wanted to add a little to the description, because it deserves to be made to look more appealing. Yes, it's over 100 minutes, but I thought it was incredible; it was a gift to anyone open-minded enough to accept it, probably because the scope of the talk ultimately went far beyond video games. It's not that Jonathan didn't have insightful and explorational thoughts on game design, but near the end of the talk he showed how he was actually approaching deep questions on the relationship between art and entertainment- irrespective of the medium. I (as more of an ex-gamer than anything- years ago my parents made me sell my Super Nintendo when I starting acting like a junkie) still enjoyed the 90% of the talk that lead into the pretty damn awesome philosophical ending, but I for all I know an experienced gamer will call Jonathan Blow out as a pretentious n00b. Anyway, if any of you have read Infinite Jest, remember the conversations between Marathe and Steeply when you're listening to this talk. Are many gamers slaves who believe they are free? [everything that follows is from Infinite Jest]
Marathe had settled back on his bottom in the chair. 'Your U.S.A. word for fanatic, "fanatic," do they teach you it comes from the Latin for "temple"? It is meaning, literally, "worshipper at the temple."
'Oh Jesus now here we go again,' Steeply said.
'As, if you will give the permission, does this love you speak of, M. Tine's grand love. It means only the attachment. Tine is attached, fanatically. Our attachments are our temple, what we worship, no? What we give ourselves to, what we invest with faith.'
Steeply made motions of weary familiarity. 'Herrrrrre we go.'
Marathe ignored this. 'Are we not all of us fanatics? I say only what you of the U.S.A. only pretend you do not know. Attachments are of great seri ousness. Choose your attachments carefully. Choose your temple of fanaticism with great care. What you wish to sing of as tragic love is an attachment not carefully chosen. Die for one person? This is a craziness. Persons change, leave, die, become ill. They leave, lie, go mad, have sick ness, betray you, die. Your nation outlives you. A cause outlives you.'...
...[Steeply's speaking] 'What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?'
Marathe's sniff held disdain. 'Then in such a case your temple is self and sentiment. Then in such an instance you are a fanatic of desire, a slave to your individual subjective narrow self's sentiments; a citizen of nothing. You become a citizen of nothing. You are by yourself and alone, kneeling to yourself.'
A silence ensued this.
Marathe shifted in his chair. 'In a case such as this you become the slave who believes he is free. The most pathetic of bondage. Not tragic. No songs. You believe you would die twice for another but in truth would die only for your alone self, its sentiment.'
I was a Rice student at this event, and I wanted to add a little to the description, because it deserves to be made to look more appealing. Yes, it's over 100 minutes, but I thought it was incredible; it was a gift to anyone open-minded enough to accept it, probably because the scope of the talk ultimately went far beyond video games. It's not that Jonathan didn't have insightful and explorational thoughts on game design, but near the end of the talk he showed how he was actually approaching deep questions on the relationship between art and entertainment- irrespective of the medium. I (as more of an ex-gamer than anything- years ago my parents made me sell my Super Nintendo when I starting acting like a junkie) still enjoyed the 90% of the talk that lead into the pretty damn awesome philosophical ending, but I for all I know an experienced gamer will call Jonathan Blow out as a pretentious n00b. Anyway, if any of you have read Infinite Jest, remember the conversations between Marathe and Steeply when you're listening to this talk. Are many gamers slaves who believe they are free? [everything that follows is from Infinite Jest]
Marathe had settled back on his bottom in the chair. 'Your U.S.A. word for fanatic, "fanatic," do they teach you it comes from the Latin for "temple"? It is meaning, literally, "worshipper at the temple."
'Oh Jesus now here we go again,' Steeply said.
'As, if you will give the permission, does this love you speak of, M. Tine's grand love. It means only the attachment. Tine is attached, fanatically. Our attachments are our temple, what we worship, no? What we give ourselves to, what we invest with faith.'
Steeply made motions of weary familiarity. 'Herrrrrre we go.'
Marathe ignored this. 'Are we not all of us fanatics? I say only what you of the U.S.A. only pretend you do not know. Attachments are of great seri ousness. Choose your attachments carefully. Choose your temple of fanaticism with great care. What you wish to sing of as tragic love is an attachment not carefully chosen. Die for one person? This is a craziness. Persons change, leave, die, become ill. They leave, lie, go mad, have sick ness, betray you, die. Your nation outlives you. A cause outlives you.'...
...[Steeply's speaking] 'What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?'
Marathe's sniff held disdain. 'Then in such a case your temple is self and sentiment. Then in such an instance you are a fanatic of desire, a slave to your individual subjective narrow self's sentiments; a citizen of nothing. You become a citizen of nothing. You are by yourself and alone, kneeling to yourself.'
A silence ensued this.
Marathe shifted in his chair. 'In a case such as this you become the slave who believes he is free. The most pathetic of bondage. Not tragic. No songs. You believe you would die twice for another but in truth would die only for your alone self, its sentiment.'