Game Themes: The Response

Warning

For those of you who read my blog but don't care about boardgames (or especially game theory), you may want to give this post a pass. It's rather long, and it covers some pretty niche subject matter.

For those of you who came to my blog for this article but are looking for more discussions of boardgames, tough luck. I've linked to several great ones, but this isn't specifically a gaming blog, and I've rarely posted about games here. However, I might have to change that for the future.
Okay, so, only the die-hards are left, right? Great! Let's get this show on the road!

Where to Begin

First and foremost, if you haven't heard Mark Johnson's original podcast from Boardgames To Go, you need to listen to it before continuing. I don't want to rehash everything we said there; I'd rather concentrate on the comments we received online.

But I do want to level the playing field a little by mentioning some basic tenets of the discussion:

• All games are abstractions.
• Some games have strong themes.
• Not everyone agrees on which ones.

These were the three basic ideas which got me started thinking about this whole Theme as Narrative/Theme as Metaphor discussion. To me, that last statement meant there was something wrong. Clearly, not everyone agreed on what constituted "theme." We needed a better definition of what "theme" really meant. My idea was to divide theme into two separate categories or qualities. The important thing to remember here is that it is just my opinion, my outlook. It is not based on any scientific data other than my own observation, which is clearly tainted by my perspective.

Meta-Gaming

Before we go any further, I want to make a little aside to talk about my perspective. There are two things which I am pretty biased about which will come into play frequently in this discussion: cards and dice.

I read a wonderful book many years ago full of pop philosophy about post-modernism and metaphysics. It's called Reality Isn't What It Used to Be, and you can pick it up used for pennies on Amazon. I recommend it for a thought-provoking read, though I wonder if it now reads as dated or prescient.

Anyway, at one point in the book the author talks about how "meta" money is in the modern world. It began as pure barter and trade, my cow for your chickens. Then as gold and silver became valued, coinage could "represent" the actual commodities, thereby becoming "meta." Later, we developed paper currency, which represented the gold and silver, making it meta-meta. Now, we have credit cards and electronic payments in which case money is now meta-meta-meta! We have no trouble understanding all these levels of meaning for money. We just accept it and take it for granted (I have no doubt the author said it much better than I).

My point is, that's how I feel about cards and dice. They are so common as game mechanisms/mechanics that we don't think about how meta they are. (I actually had all of this in my notes for the podcast, but our conversation strayed, as good conversations often do.)

If you want randomness or luck in your game, dice are perfect. Want to change the odds? Go from 6- to 10- to 12- to 20-sided dice and beyond. Want to change the outcome? Use modifiers to add or subtract from the total. You can roll multiple dice or roll multiple times. Dice are incredibly flexible and useful in so many ways.

Cards, to me, represent choice. Yes, there is certainly still randomness and "luck of the draw," but having a hand of cards mitigates that. Most people think of cards only in the standard four-suited, 2-10, J, Q, K, A variety. But for those of us in this hobby, we know how much more they can be. Cards can represent anything! They can be actions you can perform, they can be places you can travel, they can be goods you can trade.

My point is, whenever I see cards or dice in a game, that's already one level of abstraction, of "meta-"phor.

Use Your Words

So, as I said before, in my mind, theme is divided into two types, which I labeled "Metaphor" and "Narrative." I don't remember exactly how I described the difference in the podcast, but apparently I did a pretty poor job. Most people who commented disagreed more with the terminology than with the concept.

Over on Boardgamegeek, Mark Johnson started a poll to get his listeners' take on how games ranked in each category. Although the poll may have been misguided and not particularly helpful, the open forum discussion was great. I tried to address some of the questions, but I don't feel I did a very good job. Anyway, I want to quote how I described the difference there:

"I can think of many other ways to express what I was thinking. Theme as Story Telling and Theme as Learning Tool; Goal-oriented and Task-oriented; What and How.

When I say, 'The goal of this game is to make your palace the most beautiful by hiring the best craftsmen, artisans, and materials available'-- That's narrative.

When I say, 'You need money to buy materials (represented by these cubes), which can be refined by craftsmen (exchanged for different cubes), and then put in your palace by artisans (exchange particular cube sets for cards of value)'-- That's metaphor."

Those may not be perfect explanations either, but I just wanted to call attention to the simplified definitions. Narrative is what you are trying to do. Metaphor is how you go about doing it.

Most people had problems with my use/definition of Metaphor. However, I want to call attention to Eryn Roston's fantastic post on his blog, The Magic Circle. He is one of the few people who really got what I was trying to say, but had a problem with the Narrative aspect of it. He clarified it very well like this:

"If Pettit's theory is to remain useful it needs further clarification. The narrative theme is ultimately the game's story and a story is based on the actions of it's characters. The narrative theme is not only the game's setting, but it's the actions afforded to the players within the course of play. If we accept that that narrative theme is not only "what this game is about" but also "what the players can do", we have a much more concrete way evaluating it, AND it can remain independent of metaphorical theme. It becomes a more powerful tool for evaluation."

I like that a lot, and not just because he used the phrase "Pettit's theory."

However, like I said, most people had difficulty with my concept of metaphor. Chris Norwood tried to help me out with a post on his blog, GamerChris, in which he helps to redefine them:

Theme as Metaphor - a schema involving some out-of-game situation on which play is based. The degree to which knowledge about this schema will translate into understanding of the game determines the strength of the theme.

Theme as Narrative - the ability for play to create a story. The degree to which this story is compelling and memorable determines the strength of this theme.

I like both of these definitions as well. His phrase "out-of-game situation" leads me back to a comment made on the BGG poll by Snoozefest:

"So you're saying that for these games, the mechanisms don't relate well to reality?"

At first, I really didn't like that comment, and I replied in a rather snarky way (my apologies). However, the more I thought about what he was saying, the better I could understand what he meant. By the way, Snoozefest also has a cool podcast in which he "splains" rules to games.

What I finally concluded was that I was using the wrong words. Instead of "High" and "Low" metaphor, I really should be talking about "Appropriate" and "Inappropriate." Metaphors all relate to reality. That's pretty much what they do. But are the mechanisms appropriate to the actions they represent?

This particular discussion came up because of Twilight Struggle. To me, because of my bias towards cards explained above, choosing from a hand of cards to determine events is a very poor metaphor for performing actions at home and abroad to spread your political agenda. In reality, how would you know the outcome of events before you did them? How could you choose between events to make sure they occur in the right order? Don't get me wrong, I love Twilight Struggle. But I just think the metaphor is very weak, or to use the proper term, "inappropriate."

My friend Steve Bonario, who is part of my weekly game group, added this comment to the discussion:

"I like the concept of narrative as you discussed it in the podcast, but I prefer the axis of abstraction vs realism instead of metaphor, since all games are ultimately metaphors. And I don't think theme lies on the same axis as narrative, it's more of a separate 'property' of the game. I would put mechanical as the adjective on the other end of the axis from narrative. (A game like Hearts is almost purely mechanical; a game like Werewolf almost purely narrative; and theme is separate from both.)"

That's a good observation, and it leads me pretty well into the next topic I want to discuss.

Axis of Evil

I ran some of this by Mark Johnson in an email last week. Although he is far too polite to actually say so, I got the impression he thought I was going over the deep end. To him, my talk about two axes and quadrants and all that other nonsense will do more to confuse the issue than clarify it. Nevertheless, I'm going there anyway.

In my mind, the scales of theme as Metaphor and theme as Narrative run perpendicular to each other. I'd put Metaphor vertically, with Highly Appropriate at the top, and Very Inappropriate at the bottom. On the horizontal Narrative axis, I'd have Low (or pure Actions) on the left, and High (pure Storytelling) on the right. In my mind, this is all fairly clear. Unfortunately/Fortunately, the rest of the world doesn't live in my mind.

Again, back to the BGG poll, Frank Feldman put together this graphic:
It's not perfect (I don't like how he labeled the quadrants at all), but it's pretty much what I envisioned. Snoozefest commented that if all games fell basically upon that red line, then there really shouldn't be quadrants. He suggested moving the axes to produce a graph like this:

Now this one I didn't like at all. I was having trouble articulating why, until Snoozefest and Frank started talking about the 0,0 point on the axes, and the concept of "negative theme" on the first graph. Then it all became clear to me.

As I said at the beginning of the podcast, all games have theme, it's just a matter of degree. All games have both types of theme, just to varying degree. So instead of thinking of the grid as numbers (+5 x -3), try thinking of the grid as colors:Left to right is our old friend Roy G. Biv, and up and down is Black and White. No one would deny that any place on the grid isn't a color. The same should count for themes. The whole grid is theme, but they have different amounts of story and mechanisms.

So, a challenge I set for myself was to try to think of games that fell all over the grid. There are sections that are pretty sparse. Does this mean that my theory is wrong? Not necessarily. It could just be that games are better, more popular, stick around longer, if they fall into certain parameters.

If we say that a "Highly Appropriate" metaphor/mechanism relates very closely to reality, and an Inappropriate one does not, and a "Weak Narrative" means just basic, unconnected actions and "Strong" means a full story arc, what games can we describe?

Top Left: High App., Weak Narr.: This is the hardest one. I basically came up with Charades. Your actions are very similar to reality. However, the story of the game is to just guess clues to get points.

Bottom Left: Inapp., Weak Narr.: Almost all "abstract" games would fall here. Your actions don't represent anything, and the story is basically do what is necessary to win. Something like Yahtzee scores a little higher on metaphor simply because you are supposedly making Poker hands (which is funny, considering how "themeless" poker is).

Top Right: High App., Strong Narr.: This is the sweet spot. This is where you want your game to be. Let's say Reef Encounter.

Bottom Right: Inapp., Strong Narr.: This is where there's considerable debate. To me, Twilight Struggle would be here. Another perhaps more acceptable entry would be Tales of the Arabian Nights.

I'm going to end this right here for a couple of reasons. 1) I can't remember everything else I was going to write, and 2) I'm really late for game night!

The whole point of the podcast was to spark discussion, and on that point at least, I think we succeeded. I just love to think and talk about board games, so thank you all for indulging me.

My Father's Health, Part 1: Chronology

When I started these posts/essays about my father's health, it was absolutely not my intention to just run in reverse order. I thought I would post new things as they occurred (like a Part 5), then jump back to old things when I could. The order could have easily been 4, 5, 3, 6, 1, 2, depending on what I felt like talking about.

Instead, it seemed easier to incorporate current issues with their past precedents, and that's worked out pretty well. Now, however, I have several new things to write about, and I just don't feel like it. Also, this one should be pretty quick, so I can finish up this backwards look and continue going forward.

I mentioned in one of my earlier posts that I believe we teach history wrong. Usually, it's a dry memorization of facts, historical timelines, and biographies. It wasn't until I was long out of school that I discovered I actually really like history. The way the subject had always been presented, though, had been a barrier to my enjoyment of it.

I could easily write a whole post on this subject, and hopefully someday I will. But for now, let me just break my idea down to the basics. History should be taught in reverse.

I don't understand why this isn't obvious. That's the way history is written; that's the philosophy behind how it is studied; why isn't it taught that way too? History is a series of connected events with causal relationships. When looking back at the past, we are always asking, "What was the cause of this effect? Why did this happen?" If we started students with right now, we could show them how things came to be the way they are. And yes, there can be multiple causes, and different opinions, and all of that stuff. But by following these causal threads in reverse, it actually breeds more questions and encourages thought and curiosity. History should be thought of in terms of "Why", not just in terms of "What." Barack Obama was elected President. In the old way, this was the end of the lesson. In my version, it would be the beginning. Why was he elected President? Why was it considered significant? What led to it happening? James Burke did a similar thing with his fantastic show Connections. Looked at this way, history can be fascinating.

So, another question: What does any of this have to do with my father's health?

Because my Dad's diagnosis was a similar, backwards-looking investigation.

Now that we have all the facts, we can put it in the proper order. While it was happening, all the doctors were grasping at small pieces of the whole. It was like that old saying about five blind men describing different parts of an elephant.

Here's how it breaks down:

• Many years ago, my Dad had prostate cancer. The prostate was surgically removed, but they followed up with some radiation treatment to make sure.
• The radiation treatment damaged his bladder, though we weren't aware of it.
• Slowly but surely, his bladder started to fill up with blood clots. As this happened, it lost effectiveness and started building up excess fluid.
• As the excess fluid built up, it caused a back up in the kidneys. Slowly but surely, the kidneys fell further behind cleaning out his system, and started to fail. The fluid continued to build up.
• My father was getting weaker and weaker, but he just attributed it to getting older.
• As the fluid continued to build up, it started to spill over into his lungs. His lungs had to work harder, so the passageways grew to accommodate more air.
• With the larger passageways, he started aspirating (which is when you drink something and it goes into your lungs instead of your stomach), which of course made the problem worse.
• My Dad starts to experience shortness of breath, and that is what sends him to the doctor. He went to his cardiologist to talk about his difficulty breathing. It was only after many tests and many specialists that this whole timeline was revealed.

Was there a way that this chain of events could have been detected and intercepted before things got to this stage? Surely. I don't know if we should look to blame the doctors at his regular check ups, or my father for not paying enough attention to his own body. Somebody, somewhere, wasn't reading the signs properly.

But that's just the thing about history, too. When you're in the moment, how can you know if an event is significant or not? Will this pain lessen or increase? Should I go now, or wait a couple of days? Obviously, you can't know. The lesson I will try to take from this is just to be more aware.

Game Themes

Greetings, everybody. This is just a quick note to let you know that my episode is up!

I recorded this show with Mark Johnson for his Boardgames To Go podcast a couple of months ago when I was in L.A. for a small get together. In it, we discuss my distinction between "theme as narrative" and "theme as metaphor," my way of describing how a theme can impact a game.

I haven't finished re-listening to it yet, but so far it sounds better than I remembered. I hope it will generate a lot of discussion and feedback. Give it a listen!

Rise & Shine 5k

Well, I've completed my first 5k of the season. This is also the first one I've run since I injured my hip at the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot. The cold weather, the injury, and dealing with my father kept me from running in all of December and January, and I've only slowly gotten back into the habit over the last few months.

My pace and running ease aren't where they were before my running break, but I'm glad I'm finally getting the desire to run more frequently. Taking any time off from exercise can be brutal to your ability to get back into it. I realize that running 5k (3.1 miles) isn't much, but I don't think I'm cut out to be a distance runner.

Anyway, the Rise & Shine 5k was sponsored by some companies downtown, and a friend of ours works for one of those companies. In order to boost participation, his company paid the entry fees for employees, friends, and family. That was even better incentive.

So, here are my stats:

• Time: 27:37 Pace: 8:55
• Overall position: 182 out of 591
• Men's position: 135 out of 296
• Men 40-44 position: 12 out of 24

Just for comparison, the race leader won with 16:43.

Lately, my runs have been averaging around the 26-27 mark, so I'm not surprised or too disappointed in that time. However, my best 5k from last year was the Turkey Trot at 24:20! I was really hoping that the adrenaline of the race would kick me up to around 25, but I guess not.

I have two goals to achieve in a race this year, and reaching either of them would be great. I'd like to get my time back under 25:00 again, and/or I'd like to finish in the top 100 overall. The former is probably more likely than the latter, unless I can continue to find more small runs like this one. Usually, the total runners are about three times this amount.

Lastly, and I promise to complain about this only once, but get the walkers out of the way! I don't know why this bothers me so much, especially considering it happens at every single race. But seriously. If you know you're going to be walking the 5k, or even just barely jogging, that's absolutely fine. But please, please, please start at the back of the runners! Please keep to the right side of the course. Please don't line up four or five abreast and link arms. I don't feel confident or fast enough to deserve to be up at the very front of the starting line, but I am just sick of having to dodge so many people during the first mile. And yet, this happens at every single race, so you'd think I would have accepted it by now.

My Father's Health, Part 2: Nephrology

Nephrology is the branch of medicine that deals with the kidneys. It is not the study of dead people, which is what I always think of when I hear it. That's necrology. Anyway, the kidneys are responsible for a lot of things that generally all relate to cleaning out your system. This means urine, blood, electrolytes, etc. Wikipedia has a pretty good page about it if you're interested.

My Dad suffers from kidney failure. The term "failure" had always given me the impression that it was an all-or-nothing proposition, but instead it is more a matter of degree. We have two kidneys, which is generally more than we need. This is what allows kidney donations and transplants. Also, when kidneys stop working, sometimes they just need a break to recover, after which they start right up again. In the mean time, patients with kidney failure get to endure dialysis.

In the simplest terms, dialysis is just hooking up to an artificial kidney three times a week and letting it do the kidneys' work for it. In some cases, this gives the kidneys the break they need to regain functionality. In most cases, this is a procedure that will continue the rest of your life. The process varies in length based on the individual, but for my dad it lasts about three and a half hours.

When he first began the treatment, he was still in the hospital and still suffering from dementia. Most of the time he was able to sleep through it, but on occasion he would become quite ornery and insist on leaving. Later, after he came home, we went to a local dialysis clinic (more on that in a minute). He needed constant supervision for the first month or so, but now he's able to handle it by himself. I spent many sessions with him trying to keep him distracted, and failing. His favorite pastimes seemed to be eavesdropping and staring at the clock, neither one of which is very conducive to passing the time.

He never believed anyone when they told him how long he'd been there, or how much time he had left to go. One time, I thought I would be clever and help him. I started a countdown clock with him at the beginning (while he was still lucid) for 3 hours, 30 minutes. An hour later, he's sure we've been there too long already. I showed him my watch, and without hesitation he said, "Yeah, see? It says we've been here 2 1/2 hours already." Of course he didn't realize the clock was counting backwards.

But all of that is behind him now. He still dreads dialysis more than anything about his current situation, but he's finally learned to accept it. It does help, after all, and cleaning out his systems had certainly helped his mental state.

But let me take a minute to describe the dialysis clinic. You might think that a facility designed to have out-patient medical procedures would be fairly nice. Sadly, that is not the case. First, it is located in strip shopping center where the corner anchor is a sports bar. When you enter the dialysis room, it looks like a blood clinic from the '50s, or, for those of you who fell on hard times in college, like a plasma donation center. There are several rows of green vinyl reclining chairs that would look more at home in a dentist office. TO compliment that look, on the right side of each of these chairs is a large metal crane arm, such as a dentist would use for x-rays. However in this case, the arm contains a small television instead of a camera. On the left side of every chair is the dialysis machine itself. This is an interesting contraption of contradictions. It is about the shape of a small refrigerator. It has two rotating dials on the front that circulate the blood in and out, and look almost like a reel to reel tape deck. Above that is a very high tech touch screen computer monitor. But in sharp contrast to the monitor, the very top of the machine there is a tri-colored lamp that beeps and flashes either red, yellow, or green depending on your status. I cannot describe this light well enough. It looks like something you'd be more likely to see on an end-cap advertising a special at Wal-Mart than on a medical device.

The television comes with headphones, and (if it's working) you can watch any of several broadcast shows. My Dad usually starts dialysis at 11:30. Do you have any idea what kind of quality television is on in the middle of the day? Even he can't stand watching it. My sister brought him a portable DVD player, and that has worked very well. He watches a movie for a couple of hours, and that really takes his mind away from the time.

There are other, closer dialysis places, and we're currently on the waiting list for one. However, I haven't toured it myself, so I have no idea if it is any nicer. At least this other one is next to a grocery store instead of a saloon.

Today I have been on the phone with a cardiovascular surgeon in order to set a date for my Dad to have yet another operation. This one is not as serious or invasive, and hopefully can be done quickly. I have forgotten the term, but they will insert a device in my Dad's vein to facilitate dialysis. Currently, he uses a catheter in his upper chest that was inserted at the hospital. Supposedly, with the intravenous method, it can shave an hour off of the dialysis time. So of course, my Dad was all for that, and I don't blame him.

One thing that has pointed out how different we are during his adjustment to dialysis is his preference for passing time. He loves to do yardwork, he likes to be active and productive. Even though he could (and did) sit on the couch and watch Fox News all afternoon, he can't stand just sitting and watching TV during dialysis. He doesn't care to read, either. I'm nearly the complete opposite. For me, this would be like a dream situation. I could sit in that chair three times a week and do nothing but watch movies and read? For three hours? Sign me up!

Of course, it's easy for me to say that from the outside. I know that the process is tedious and unpleasant, and it wipes him out for the rest of the day. Basically, the four days a week when he doesn't have dialysis are about the only times he feels as though he's really living. He has become stronger every day, walking frequently without even a cane, and yet every other day he has to be chained to this chair for hours to make him "better." It's interesting to me how our modern medical wonders still haven't made obsolete the phrase "the cure is worse than the disease."