Humane Games

Humane Games are: games for education, games for health, and games for change. They can work either through the play or through the making. This tumblr celebrates Humane Games, and reflective and critical play.

Aug 18

(via usecommon)


Aug 17
breakthecitysky:

Mamie (Peanut) Johnson, the only female pitcher in the history of the Negro Leagues, watches Mo’ne Davis hurl shutout in opener of Little League World Series Johnson couldn’t miss seeing the debut of a kid who is believed to be the first African-American girl to play in the 75 years of youth baseball’s most storied tournament.Let’s hear it for happy tears.

breakthecitysky:

Mamie (Peanut) Johnson, the only female pitcher in the history of the Negro Leagues, watches Mo’ne Davis hurl shutout in opener of Little League World Series

Johnson couldn’t miss seeing the debut of a kid who is believed to be the first African-American girl to play in the 75 years of youth baseball’s most storied tournament.

Let’s hear it for happy tears.

(via raymondboisjoly)


kochalka:

Bik - A Space Adventure  is fantastic, and it’s on sale for 99 cents.  I love point-and-click style adventure games, and this one is really fun.

will try it.

kochalka:

Bik - A Space Adventure  is fantastic, and it’s on sale for 99 cents.  I love point-and-click style adventure games, and this one is really fun.

will try it.


Aug 15

Aug 13
“The fundamental truth: a baseball game is nothing but a great slow contraption for getting you to pay attention to the cadence of a summer day.” Michael Chabon (via xtianw)

Choice, Texas (hat tip to Jennifer deWinter)

Hello all,

I just wanted to draw your attention to the empathy game Choice, Texas made my Carly A. Kocurek, Allyson Whipple, and Grace Jennings. If you haven’t had a chance to play this game, it’s a frickin brilliant (and depressing) exploration about the choices that women make in their communities, families, and within themselves when faced with a choice about pregnancy.

Here are two recent reviews of it, which will give you a link to the game.

http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2014/06/choice-texas-review-pc.html

http://www.arktimes.com/RockCandy/archives/2014/08/08/a-qanda-with-the-creators-of-choice-texas-a-videogame-about-reproductive-justice

Jennifer deWinter, PhD
Worcester Polytechnic Institute
Co-Director, Professional Writing
Interactive Media and Game Development

Play Choice, Texas at http://playchoicetexas.com/index.php


When we finally moved to the beach to start our own company, Disparity Games, we did it with the same AAA attitude. We would maintain a clear separation between work and home life. There would be set hours for working and there would be time for family. This has spectacularly failed to work. (via Making games as a family taught us to ignore work-life balance | Polygon)

When we finally moved to the beach to start our own company, Disparity Games, we did it with the same AAA attitude. We would maintain a clear separation between work and home life. There would be set hours for working and there would be time for family. This has spectacularly failed to work. (via Making games as a family taught us to ignore work-life balance | Polygon)


Aug 12
“Abstract
The meritocratic norm—the belief in total personal responsibility for one’s successes and failures—tends to be reinforced by video games that allow players to take control of powerful, independent characters who exert enormous influence on the game world. This essay uses Real Lives as an example of a game that leads players to see the world from the perspective of ordinary people, whose lives are shaped by culture, geographical location, and chance events. This style of game play does not allow players to distance themselves from the uncontrollable circumstances that shape their character and their opportunities. It encourages players to think about distributive justice by presenting them with a much different view of luck and the role of personal hard work than what might be found in most other games.”
Using Video Games to Think About Distributive Justice

Aug 11
reluctantconquistador:

I made a Bubsy-ish Mii so I can have him in Smash Bros.

reluctantconquistador:

I made a Bubsy-ish Mii so I can have him in Smash Bros.



"The winners were samurai stealth game Chambara; action game Don’t Walk: Run, where three players compete as a film’s actors escaping the wrath of its world-controlling director; and Sagittarius, where players use a virtual reality headset to aim a crossbow from a moving chariot."
(via BBC News - Dare to be Digital video games in Bafta nominations) Full disclosure, my son is on Team Overly Kinetic, the creators of Chambara.

"The winners were samurai stealth game Chambara; action game Don’t Walk: Run, where three players compete as a film’s actors escaping the wrath of its world-controlling director; and Sagittarius, where players use a virtual reality headset to aim a crossbow from a moving chariot."
(via BBC News - Dare to be Digital video games in Bafta nominations) Full disclosure, my son is on Team Overly Kinetic, the creators of Chambara.


Aug 10

E.M. Cioran on Samuel Beckett (from Cahiers: 1957-72)

1109-83:

September 1968.

The other day I noticed Beckett along one of the footpaths in the Luxembourg Gardens, reading a newspaper in a way that reminded me of one of his characters. He was seated in a chair, lost in thought, as he usually is. He looked rather unwell. I didn’t dare approach him. What would I say? I like him so much but it’s better that we not speak. He is so discreet! Conversation is a form of play-acting that requires a certain lack of restraint. It’s a game which Beckett wasn’t made for. Everything about him bespeaks a silent monologue.

21 April 1969.

Beckett wrote to me about my book Démiurge, “In your ruins I find shelter.”

23 Oktober 1969.

Samuel Beckett. The Nobel Prize. What a humiliation for such a proud man. The sadness of being understood! Beckett or the anti-Zarathustra.The post-humanity vision (as we say “post-Christianity”) Beckett or the apotheosis of the subhuman.

12 December 1969.

Last night I went to see Yeat’s The Shadowy Waters. The theather was empty. Today’s youth cannot appreciate a play that is so fundamentally, so totally poetic. And I understand why. There has to be at least a certain degree of cynicism to counteract poetic excess; otherwise, one runs the risk of falling into the insipid, the childish, the sublime, or the anemic. Every time that Beckett risks falling into lyricism or metaphysics, he has his characters erupt in hiccups or other fits; this abrupt shift, which allows the character to get a grip on himself, could not be more fortunate or more comtemporary. Yeats is a great poet, but his theater is only very good Maeterlinck.

20 February 1970.

Spent an evening with the Becketts. Sam was well and even high-spirited. He told me that he started writing plays by change, because he needed to relax after writing his novels. He didn’t think that what he thought of as a distraction or an experiment would acquire such importance. He added, to be sure, that playwriting involves numerous challenges, because you must restrain yourself, which had appealed to him after the great liberty, the arbitrary and limitless freedom of the novel. The theater imposes conventions, while the novel no longer requires obedience to any.

18 May 1970.

At a rehearsel of La dernière bande, when I said to Mme. B that Sam was truly despairing and that I was surprised that he was able to continue, to “live,” etc.., she replied, “There’s another side to him.”This answher applies, on a lesser scale to be sure, to myself as well.

13 June 1970.

Evening with Suzanne B. If I understood correctly, Sam was displeased with the article that I had written on him. It wasn’t, in fact, a very good one. But this didn’t stop me from feeling chagrined, as though I had been rejected. I returned home tired and in despair. I spoke on the phone with Paul Valet about my article on Beckett. We agreed that Nietzsche’s superman was ridiculous (because theatrical), while Beckett’s characters never are.Beckett’s characters do not live in the tragic but in the incurable. It’s not tragedy, but misery.

21 August 1970.

Last night, Suzanne B. told me that Sam wasted a ridiculous amount of time with second-rate people, whom he helped with their problems. When I asked where this peculiar solicitude could have come from, she told me that it was from his mother, who loved to comfort the sick and to care for hopeless wretches, but who turned away from them when they recovered or were out of trouble.

20 November 1970.

Splendid, divine morning in the Luxembourg Gardens. Watching people as they came and went, I said to myself that we the living (the living!) walk this earth only for a brief time. Instead of looking at the faces of passers-by, I looked at their feet, and they all became for me only their footsteps, which went in every direction, making a disorderly dance not worth lingering on. While thinking of this, I looked up and saw Beckett, this exquisite man whose mere presence has something so salutary about it. The operation on his cataract, performed on just one eye for now, was a great success. He’s beginning to see in the distance, which he hadn’t been able to do until now. “I”ll end up by becoming an extrovert,” he told me. “It will be up to your future commentators to explain why,” I replied.

(via cyborges)


Aug 9
I quit because baseball was sacred to me until I started getting paid for it. The more that “baseball” became synonymous with “business,” the less it meant to me, and I saw less of myself in the game every time I got a check from the Philadelphia Phillies Organization, the Oakland Athletic Company, or the Chicago Cubs, L.L.C. To put it simply, other players were much better than I was at separating the game of baseball from the job of baseball. They could enjoy the thrill of a win—as it should be enjoyed—without thinking of what it meant to the owners’ bottom lines. These players, at once the objects of my envy and my admiration, are the resilient ones, still in the game. I am no longer one of them. (via Why I Quit Major League Baseball - The New Yorker)

I quit because baseball was sacred to me until I started getting paid for it. The more that “baseball” became synonymous with “business,” the less it meant to me, and I saw less of myself in the game every time I got a check from the Philadelphia Phillies Organization, the Oakland Athletic Company, or the Chicago Cubs, L.L.C. To put it simply, other players were much better than I was at separating the game of baseball from the job of baseball. They could enjoy the thrill of a win—as it should be enjoyed—without thinking of what it meant to the owners’ bottom lines. These players, at once the objects of my envy and my admiration, are the resilient ones, still in the game. I am no longer one of them. (via Why I Quit Major League Baseball - The New Yorker)


Here we all are. From left to right, we’re Andrew Reinhard, Richard Rothaus, Raiford Guins, Brett Weber, and William Caraher. We’re a collective of Punk Archaeologists. The punk moniker harkens back to the suburban culture of the late 1970s/early 1980s that drove Atari to prosperity while simultaneously declaring a critique of those consumerist and materialist values. And, just as punk resisted any unified identity or agenda, our archaeological team embodied a range of motives, perspectives, and theoretical commitments that made us want to be there when the excavation machinery rumbled to life. This is why we did what we did—a summary of our intentions and reflections on the aftermath. (via Why We Dug Atari - The Atlantic)

Here we all are. From left to right, we’re Andrew Reinhard, Richard Rothaus, Raiford Guins, Brett Weber, and William Caraher. We’re a collective of Punk Archaeologists. The punk moniker harkens back to the suburban culture of the late 1970s/early 1980s that drove Atari to prosperity while simultaneously declaring a critique of those consumerist and materialist values. And, just as punk resisted any unified identity or agenda, our archaeological team embodied a range of motives, perspectives, and theoretical commitments that made us want to be there when the excavation machinery rumbled to life. This is why we did what we did—a summary of our intentions and reflections on the aftermath. (via Why We Dug Atari - The Atlantic)