You and Me versus Zombies

Over the past several years I have mentioned to people (usually with a wine glass in my hand and slightly slurring) that I had an idea for a story called “A Reluctant Father’s Guide to Child-Raising in a Post-Apocalyptic World.”

The idea sprang from a couple of sources. Mainly that (when Gabe was on the way) I couldn’t stand the So-You’re-Going-To-Be-A-Father books that I was presented with. Presumptuous, belittling paperbacks, usually filled with cartoons of incompetent males trying to change nappies.

(I only ever found one that spoke on my wavelength: Dad Rules by Andrew Clover. Very insightful and utterly brilliant.)

“If I was ever to write one of those books,” I would say, “It would have a backdrop of the zombie-apocalypse.”

Several have said they would like to see such a story. So here it comes.

I have taken a page (ahem) out of Max Barry’s book, and will be presenting it one page a day, give or take a paragraph.

Enlightenment and Education: public lecture by Sir Harold Kroto

There is a free public lecture (bookings necessary) at RMIT on Wednesday night.

Enlightenment and Education: public lecture by Sir Harold Kroto.

How can the internet help communicate science, make sense of scientific methodology and lead to more informed public debate?

Hear Nobel Laureate Sir Harold Kroto on the crucial issues of science, education and the public sphere in a free public lecture as part of the RMIT Transforming the Future lecture series on Wednesday 28 September.

Professor Kroto will discuss his views on the importance of scientific knowledge and education, and how both are vital to better informing public debate around issues such as climate change.

The event is free but registrations are essential.

Date Wednesday 28 September 2011
Time 6.00 pm – 7.30 pm
Location RMIT University, City campus, Storey Hall, 342 Swanston Street, Melbourne

See you there.

It’s Not Circus, It’s Science

School Holidays are here, and rather than hemorrhage money at the Royal Melbourne Show, there are many other events to take you’re little ones.

For instance, I can heartily recommend It’s Not Circus, It’s Science, put on by the duo Barnard and Wild of Teacup Tumble Theatre. It’s circus meets science meets physical comedy and whips.

Welcome ladies and gentlemen to today’s Inaugural Symposium of Distinguished Scientists. Professors Wild and Barnard are here to demonstrate some important scientific breakthroughs – if only Professor Wild would stop tampering with the equipment and making friends with the audience.

It’s Not Circus It’s Science is a 40 minute show complete with acrobatics, clowning, neuroscience and physics. Audiences gasp, yell and laugh uproariously as these ridiculous scientists fumble their way through their presentation. Adults love it, children love it, scientists wish they were it; this is circus for the elite minds of the 21st Century!

Dates: September 27th – 30th
Times: 11am each day
Duration: 40 minutes + 10 minutes Q&A
Ages: 5 to 12 & their families
Venue: Northcote Uniting Church Hall
Cost: $15 regular, $12 concession
Bookings: (03) 9481 9500 or Click Here
How to Get There: Click Here

Think Inc. A wrap-up.

Last Sunday saw the first Think Inc. conference in Melbourne. Thanks to my awesome manager I was able to score a place in the crowd.

Here’s a few notes on each of the presenters, hastily put together from my jottings on the day. I’m putting this here without much thought or analysis for friends and interested onlookers who missed the day.

Tim Flannery

Tim set the theme of the conference by talking on forces that create civilisation. He says rather than focussing on the big people of history, that instead we should instead frame the main progenitor as evolution by natural selection. (Incidentally, the Chinese translation of “evolution by natural selection” is words to the effect of “Heavens’ Performance.”)

He laments that evolution has been badly misunderstood over the last 150 years. For instance, “survival of the fittest.” This description is wrong and misrepresentational.

Building has to be “win-win.” Coorperation is necessary for the world we live in.

Civilisation has arisen through different species long before we created ours. Cockroach-like creatures formed complex communities that eventually became what we see today as termites. The ideal civilisation is much like leaf-cutter ants, where (as Plato said) there is “no difference between mine and thine.”

The ants’ civilisation is built on having shared genes. Our civilisations are built on having shared ideas.
Human civilisation seems to have arisen five times independentally around the world, yet they are all very similar, which could be attributed to the hand of evolution by natural selection.

Today, our interconnectedness (through the internet) is eroding the “in” group.

For the next 10 years, Tim’s suggestions were:

o Think of yourself as a citizen of the world.
o Think of global solutions that can be implemented locally.
o Remember that the barriers are falling down.

Wrapping up, he commented on the Fermi paradox – that is, why does there seem to be no evidence for other civilisations in the galaxy? To his mind there were two solutions to the paradox: the creation of the Global Voice is so traumatic that it is killed off at birth. Or that we are the first.

Cristina Rad

Cristina is a video blogger who analyses questions of society with a rigorous logic and rationalism missing from many modern commentators.

(And dripping with irony, too.)

Cristina posed several reframing of problems and solutions to societal problems, such as gay marriage, legalisation of drugs and the legality of prostitution.

Cristina Rad: “I do want world peace, and which arsehole doesn’t?”

Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Ayaan posed three predictions of the future world of 2021: one optimistic, one muddling through, the final a doom scenario.

She espoused that we need to revive the values of the Enlightenment. We are too laid back with expressing our message, and we need to promote ideas with the same fervour as fundamentalist and extremist religious groups.

Shane Koyczan

Shane is a slam poet from Canada, and after his forty-five minute set I NEEDED his book. I have been rarely moved by poetry the way I was that day.

Later, in the foyer to sign books, he wasn’t able to make it to the official area before a line spontaneously formed in front of him. Conference organisers then brought a table and chair to him.

Shane Koyczan

Neil deGrasse Tyson

…was a brilliant speaker. He was the first for the day to actually use the whole stage, owning the space and drawing us into his world view.

Neil was one of those responsible for reclassifying Pluto as a dwarf planet, which he has received much criticism over, and necessitated this slide:

Pluto (get over it)

The thrust of his talk was on the “profound science illiteracy” and the effects of this on society in the United States, highlighted by catastrophic infrastructure failures such as the failing of New Orleans’ levee banks.

Then, paying service to the original conference theme of Atheism, he spent some time looking at the statistic for religious people in the community. He revealed that 7% of “Elite Scientists” are religious, and suggested that if the Atheist evangelists (my term) of the audience were interested in changing people’s minds, then they should start on that 7%, and find out why they are of the opinion that they are.

Tyson was a brilliant presenter, and my hasty summarising of his talk does not do it any justice. YouTube are full of some of his greatest moments. Start with this one:

Michael Shermer

Michael, founding publisher of Skeptic Magazine, presented a rationalist’s (read: skeptic’s) approach to the world. Essentially the Null hypothesis. That is, if someone presents a hypothesis, you say “That’s nice. Now prove it.”
Question what the mechanism is. Our brains have a fallibility in that we look for patterns, and assume all patterns are real.

He outlined ways of presenting a convincing argument against fuzzy thinking, and was the second speaker for the day to invoke “carrying on the Enlightenment.”

For a first-off conference, I would imagine the organisers were very pleased with the outcome (even though Christopher Hitchens was unable to make his time.) Not only do I look forward to finding out the speakers for next year, but also am interested in the groups that will form before, during and afterwards for some more intellectual debating.

(I can also be heard rambling incoherently in Martin S. Pribble’s Think Inc. Vox Pop Podcast.)

Gabe unleashes his inner Lucas.

It started on Tuesday morning when Gabe wondered how you got a LEGO man to move by itself.

After devouring YouTube videos of other people’s LEGO Star Wars movies, my five year old son has been bursting to make his own.

Together we made a ground of random flat LEGO boards. (We did have moon-scape LEGO boards, but as Gabe pointed out, “They don’t go to the moon in Star Wars, dad!”) Then we made a background wall with random blocks so that the dining room was blotted out.

With the scenery made, I set up my netbook (running Ubuntu) in front so that frames of the movie could be captured by the computer’s built-in camera.

Now the tricky line that every dad has to walk when helping their child when a project: at what point does “helping” step over into “doing it for them.”

I realised I was on dangerous ground when the following discussion/argument broke out:

“No dadda. He has to have his gun down.”
“But if his has his gun down, he won’t stick properly to the board. How about here, at a slight angle.”
“NO dadda. He has to have his gun DOWN.”
“Look Gabe. Which is bigger, his gun or his leg?”
“His gun.”
“Exactly! So if his gun is straight down, then he won’t stick properly on the board!”
“No dadda. He has to have his gun DOWN!”

Luckily for both of us, I gave up. I showed him how to take photos using the computer, then retired to my room with a coffee and a book.

Some time later, he showed me his efforts. I know he is my son, and I’ll be impressed at anything he does. But, hell, I was IMPRESSED. There was a certain amount of figures appearing out of nowhere, but then there were the moments where one frame contained the cause and the next had the effect. Anakin’s lightsabre moved, and then the droid was on his back. The speederbike (unfortunately a bit out of frame) moved off around the back of the wall. He moved the camera for the scene of the trooper on the speederbike.

All little pieces of evidence that he is beginning to understand the process of narrative and story telling.

I collected these images, uploaded them onto my MacBook Pro, dumped them into iMovie, removed the (goddamned) Ken Burn effect, and had a rough movie. We played it a couple of times while Gabe worked out what he wanted to say, then I hit the voice-over button and let him riff. One minute (and one take) later, he had laid his voice and sound effects track.

The finished product is magical.

And most importantly, proof that the doing hasn’t driven out the desire, he is keen to make another one!

-~-

In related news, his video has been blogged on Wired’s Geek Dad.

With all this fame, I hope it doesn’t go to Gabe’s head and he ends up going over his old classic movie, rotoscoping out the dining room table, and digitally making the droids shoot first. Maybe the emotion of the scene is lost and one of the troopers should go “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO…” Hmmm.

A little Penn and Teller

I had a number of influences for An Evening of Rough Science.  One of the most important was stage magic.

I have a larger and more detailed talk about how science demonstrations and magic tricks have a lot in common.  That’s a subject for another time.

Right now, here are a couple of clips of Penn and Teller that have influenced me over the past two years.

How slight of hand tricks can influence science demonstrations came to me while reading Derren Brown, but Penn and Teller have a brilliant act that lays out the (so called) rules of slight of hand.

Penn and Teller are also famous for telling people how their magic is done, and the cup and balls act with clear cups is one of their most famous. Interesting that in actually seeing how it is done in no way removes anything from the experience. (Interesting, too, how in this video the acoustics of the tomb they are in are so terrible, Penn has to really crank down his usual exuberance.)

Penn now explains human perception of numbers. No magic, but a great way to make an otherwise dry subject engaging.

Larger scale now.

Impressions of “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore”

I had the opportunity to play/read “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore.” It is a beautiful, interactive book, with a story that looks and feel like a Pixar short movie with lots of heart.

The general layout is that each page of the book has an interactive picture that you can explore. Underneath the picture is the text for the story that is also read aloud by an American-accented narrator.

Each picture is a little different, so it really was like exploring to see what each could do.  (I particularly liked a piano-playing moment, where the note and the key was highlighted, suggesting new possibilities for learning music!)

It is a beautiful little app. Even so, I have some reservations.

I have had many people tell me that this is the way kids will read book, and I feel uncertain, even a little reluctant to embrace this future.

Firstly, when people mention the word “interactive”, my mind tends to flash to this 1999 essay by Douglas Adams, who reminds us that Twentieth Century media has tended to make us more passive, and that putting the adjective “interactive” as a selling-feature is ironic as entertainment for most of human history has been so interactive that we haven’t needed to call it such.

My second reservation involves a question: what is the ultimate goal for the producers of the app? Will adding an interactive capability to stories increase the engagment of readers to the story?

My son Gabriel had used the app before me, and when I asked him about it, I started by asking him about the story. What was it about?

“I don’t know,” he told me, before telling me in the same breath that I should turn to a particular page to interact with a picture.

It leads me to question the purpose of reading using tablets. In some interactive books, the words on the page take second fiddle to the other gadgets that the reader can play with.

Comprehension was something we did in English in when I was twelve years old, where we would have to answer questions about a piece having read it only once.

My research space of one (just turned five) suggests that comprehension of “The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore” after the first read is very low.

The user’s temptation (and natural inclination) is to ignore the text and focus on the awesome interactive pictures around the text. Ignore is perhaps the incorrect word here: psychologist may call it “perceptual blindness”, while magicians call it misdirection. There is so much happening on the screen that our brains will not notice the gorilla standing in the room.

As a larger comment on the “interactive story books” I have so far seen for tablets, let me step back twenty or so years. I remember computer games in the nineties was spent discovering and developing storytelling in this new world of interactivity. When CD-ROMs came out, the by-line “interactive movie!” was often splashed across game boxes. It was an explosion in the gaming industry with many titles forgotten, but a few still remembered today (Myst, The Secret of Monkey Island to name just two.)

“Interactive books” on tablet devices seem to have forgotten all the major lessons from that game story-telling hey-day, and focus on the technology rather than asking what is the outcome that they want for their app.

In the case of reading, my vote is for “comprehension” to be way up the list, and scattering the page with distracting gadgets slams that down.

It might be argued that repeat ‘reading’ of the book will mean the reader will get a better understanding of what the story was about. This is assuming that with all the other distracting apps on your iPad will let you get back to it. Once you’ve flipped through the pages and played with your favourite interactive six or seven times, will the reader want to return it the story again? I have no research to back this up, but having seen the demise of the graphic adventure game in the nineties, and knowing how my son’s limbic system is looking for the next dopamine hit, I would think the new levels of Angry Birds will win out every time.

An Evening of Rough Science

I am putting on a show!

Rough Science brochure

In an Evening of Rough Science we will conduct an autopsy on a microwave, unweave the rainbow to make the sky is blue, and unravel the challenges of how to explain Climate Change to your dad.

Join Sean Elliott, a science communicator with over ten years experience of writing and presenting shows for Museum Victoria and the CSIRO, for an evening of Rough Science.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011.

For more info, and how to book, visit An Evening of Rough Science page at Theoretikos.

Bookings are essential!

Where Angels Fear, Part 2: Building a Sewer.

A good month has gone by since the initial whiteboard brainstorm. I’ll summaries some of the discoveries rather than doing the tedium of a the blow-by-blow account of challenges, problems and solutions of the Turgid Sewer Rat.

Working in groups is challenging. This one I was ready for, so wasn’t too surprised as group members failed to show to class. Some have pulled out of the course, which does surprise me, as we are two thirds through and so close to the end.

Without the manpower, parts of the project won’t get programmed. But we had in our initial design identified the critical core components of the game. Without these, we have no game:

o level loading and display;

o collision detection;

o player and non-player movement in the world;

o doors, and the switches to activate them.

Everything else – music, sound effects, hand-drawn backgrounds, fluid animations, graphical HUDs, menu screens, movie cut scenes – would all wait. The core components was the grit around which out pearl could grow.

Even if there was complete group-breakdown and the bulk of the work fell to just one person, the the core components were manageable enough that there would at very least be a bunch of pixels roaming the screen, collecting other twinkling pixels, hitting some pixels that would move other pixels that would allow the first set of pixels into another part of the pixel world.

At it was, three of us got the bulk of the core component completed.

Team Funky is made up of a rotating membership.

Of the core components, three of them were critical, and needed to be completed to some degree at the same time.

Funky Member 1 worked on “collision detection.” The principle of this is that clusters of pixels are going to be moving about the screen, and at times connect with other clusters of pixels. What happens next depends on what those clusters are meant to be.

o Player hits some treasure. The treasure needs to disappear from the screen and the player’s score increase by some amount.

o Player hits wall. The player isn’t allowed to overlap with the wall and needs to be ‘pushed back’ into the room.

o Player hits albino rat monster. Albino rat monster will get angry and swipe at player with claws the size of scimitars.

Mediating between all of these interactions is the collision detection manager. Every update of the game, the collision detection manager is called to see if there is a collision between X and Y, and if so makes sure Z happens.

Of all the critical core components of the game, this was very critical. It also involved a mess of delicious mathematical geometry, so when TF1 got it working he deservedly could not wipe the smile of his face.

But to make sure it worked, the player needed to be moving around the screen. TF2 worked on this, scavenging code from our old Asteroids game. We would have a birds eye view of the Turgid Sewer Rat moving through sewers, so TF2 did not need to mess about with a gravity component. Instead he had to think hard about player interface, and what would be comfortable and intuative for the player when using a controller. This is still being decided on, but at very least we now had a tiny Turgid Sewer Rat that could be moved about the screen.

While this was happening, I was putting together the code for loading the level. We had decided to store the level definitions in two text files. One would store the level walls, doors, and switches, while the other would have all the objects and spawn point for the things that would populate the sewers.

A few technical points: We’re using a 1028 X 7xx screen size. The map is a series of tiles 32×32 pixels. This means each section of wall, each door, each door switch, and each background tile (ground, water, toilet water) is a square 32 by 32 pixels. The map would therefore be a grid 40 tiles wide and 32 tiles high.

When a level is built, the map file is first read and stored, then the object file. On each update of the game cycle, the objects are drawn on top of the background map.

And here is where the all-important collision manager works its magic. Each tile and object has a bounding box created around it, and the manager calculates if there is any overlap at any point. If it is the player and a ground tile, then the play just passes over it. But if a player collides with a wall, they need to be pushed back into the room.

Player, walls, collisions. Somewhere in this, TF1 got our first enemy onscreen. Clusters of sprites that will be our albino rat creatures that follow the Turgid Sewer Rat when he gets too close.

The core of the Turgid Sewer Rat.

Final core components were switches and doors. This involved tinkering with the collision manager so that when a player collided with a switch, the corresponding door(s) will open (or close).

Enough core. On with the level design!

Where Angels Fear, Part 1: The Final Computer Game.

The final assignment for my Certificate II in Information Technology (Game Programming) is to create a complete game from the ground up.

We are given a certain amount of guidance from our tutors, but ultimately the complete project including the initial concept, coding, sounds, and art work are to be our own.

There are times when I love being in my thirties. It is where sky-high ideas get hit by the pragmatic bat of “prior experience.” The early-twenties version of myself would get wrapped up in the ultimate badass game in a fantastic world, and draw detailed maps, work the out local culture, and spent hours honing names.

This time I considered the resources first:

o We have nine weeks.

o I usually only have time to code during class: three to four hours twice a week.

o I have completed two games assignments already, so have a wealth of code to steal from.

o I am working with two other students, who already also have two previous game assignments, including some kickass features that I didn’t implement.

I love a whiteboard. I have two traits that are useful with a whiteboard: I’m a visual person, and I tend to think aloud. And when I brainstorm, everything goes on the board. Every little comment that someone makes, especially those “here’s an idea…no I don’t like that idea” ideas. This fetish for whiteboards developed early in my working life. I hated meeting where ideas would be quickly shot down before they were entirely out of someone’s mouth.


So when myself and the two other students (collectively referred to herein as “Team Funky”) stood in front of the whiteboard, were churned through what we were all thinking very efficiently. One member wanted to try a real-time strategy game (RTS), which made me feel a touch of vertigo considering the interface, algorithms for movement, AI, possible networking, and so forth. Basically, it was orders of magnitude more complex than what we had achieved so far.

Nevertheless, we liked the idea of something with a top-down view, rather than fiddling with the physics of side-scrolling platformer (and the very clunky engine provided to us for our second project.) Also suggested was the sort of gameplay in one-character missions in RTS games like Starcraft and Warcraft.

Suddenly we became tangled in the mire of talking about classes of weapons, breeds of monsters, and flavours of treasure.

Ultimately, our tutor directed our discussions by posing the question:

What is the core mechanic that make the game fun?

This refocussed us, and we came up with the following game elements:

o The player has a top-down view of the world.

o The player controls a character through a maze/labyrinth/dungeon.

o The player searches for treasure and the exit. (Solving the maze.)

o The player encounters traps and monsters they will have to fight or avoid.

Story in a game, our tutor warned, was like plot in a porno. With certain exceptions, no one cares about it. At any rate, at this point we needed some theme or plot of some sort to hang our design off. We universally rejected any kind of fantasy or mythology theme (the Minotaur or elves or dungeons). On the board went Science Fiction, Final Fantasy and Steampunk. And bunch more words followed – catacombs, labyrinth, sewer. Somewhere in the mess of talking and words fell the following:

Turgid Sewer Rat.

Sometimes, a name just fits.

Imagine a large fellow, decked out in Steampunk leather, goggles, and hand-cranked weaponry.

Our summary of the game play for our slowly-growing game design document went like this:

The city-state of Tien Kwan is a thriving metropolis. Deep beneath run the city’s bowels: the winding network of sewers.

Whenever a citizen drops something down their toilet – spectacles, jewellery, continental pornographic lithograph – they call on the one man who can navigate the sewer to retrieve their treasures: the Turgid Sewer Rat.

The player will control the Turgid Sewer Rat through the maze of sewerage under Tien Kwan to avoid the albino creatures that populate the labyrinthine system and retrieve the lost treasures of the citizens above. They will have a bird’s eye view of the maze as they fight off the sewer inhabitants, avoid traps, and find treasures to fulfil their contracts.

Once the design document is done, including the types of monsters, goals and so forth that the player will encounter, we will get on with the coding.

Speaking of which: we started making a rough plan of what sort of things needed to be coded first. We had a series of tiers. Tier 1 would be laying down the code for displaying the maze and the controls for moving the Rat. (In particular, I want to use one of the methods one of the other team members used in their Jumpman project where the camera moved with the player, and the maze moved relative to this.) Sorting out the base class for the walls and other characters in the maze, as well as sounds, would also be part of the first tier.

Tier 2 will involve expanding on the enemies and treasures, as well as developing a number of levels. Tier 3 includes developing a more advanced artificial intelligence for the enemies, plus a bunch of other features we’d love to have in but won’t be absolutely necessary to the project as a whole.

So onward, where angels fear to tread.

As a colophon: We are going to programming this in XNA framework, which is the Microsoft framework for Xbox and Windows games. To maintain revision and version control, we are using Perforce.