I love mountains. I was surrounded by them in Los Angeles, on the San Francisco Peninsula, and in Portland. There is an uneasy, infinite sense to places that aren’t surrounded by mountains. You can go on forever and nothing should go on forever. That’s a rich man’s fantasy.
Mountains were ever-present and eventually I simply decided that I need the ocean right over there to the west and mountains all around me. A mountain is a big, visible beacon on the horizon and I know where I’m headed based on that. San Bruno mountain is over there, Mt. Hood is over here, etc. It’s simplistic but I think I want simple and crave it.
And so, I love mountains in video games, or barring that some far-off beacon that helps me remember where to go. Some of my favorite games have you literally move toward a shining beacon (Dear Esther, Journey), and some merely provide the beacon as a hazy introductory destination. Castlevania’s box art is all about introducing the castle in which all the action takes place, but I didn’t play Castlevania and I did play a game called Castle of Illusion on the Sega Genesis / Mega Drive. It was a game whose art was modeled on many a dark and gloomy castle, with the castle in the title menu and key art serving as an establishing shot for the game’s environment, but it provided the exact kind of goal that I appreciate. There’s the castle, go on.
This first image is the dramatic conclusion to a fast-paced introduction in which Minnie, Mickey’s girlfriend (or spouse? do Disney characters marry?) is kidnapped by a witch named Mizrabel, who is jealous of Minnie’s beauty. Not a very progressive introduction but it evokes that fairy tale sense of heroism that many childrens’ stories (and video games) rely upon.
But that shot! A sharp precipice, green rolling mountains in the background, and a surprisingly mystical and glass-like castle looming in the distance. It’s such a great moment and I can still hear the pulse-pounding music and chase that leads up to it. I want to sit on the clifftop there and just admire the view for a while, which is why I grabbed this screenshot just before the title and menu appear to block it all. It’s a wonderful setup.
Conversely, you have the key art used for the box and marketing (provided by Ryan McGinley of Video Game Art Archive). It’s a strange contrast and the designs here don’t match the in-game visuals, particularly with the modern Mickey design superimposed over the rest of it and a witch straight out of a Halloween store cutout. It’s a kind of disparity common in video game marketing of the 80s and 90s. Still, it sells a sense of mystery, some danger, and certainly a scary mood that would have prompted me to pick up the box and read more about it on the back cover. I only miss the high point of view of the in-game scene that lent a greater sense of place to the game.
Castle of Illusion was remade and released for modern platforms back in 2013, which meant a new visual approach and a chance to reintroduce the iconic key art for a new generation.
They chose the spooky aesthetic for this one and I still prefer the lighter scene from the first game, but at least they included the iconic view of the castle from the edge of a precipice.
The game’s key art is similar to the key art from the first game, with Mickey down below, in hindsight probably meant to trace Mickey’s progression from the distant cliff to the castle interior, where all the action actually takes place. It’s worth noting that the game’s final confrontation takes place in that tower at the edge of the castle and is certainly represented more consistently in the new art.
I sometimes dream of marching toward a tower atop a mountain. I never reach it, and I suspect my fascination with interactive experiences is that they allow me to actually reach the beacon and discover what it is I’m meant to see. They provide neat conclusions to fraught journeys that end just as they should.
I just lucid dreamt the gnarliest gory death…
…in which a scientist at some remote station falsified data by smearing pizza on the results cue card and as his peers were about to reveal his deception he attempted to run but was forced to sit there at the computer console and be outed as a fraud. But right as the truth popped up on screen the station’s very tall and beefy cook, who has a craggy face and bloodshot eyes, came up behind the scientist as he sat at the desk and used an implausibly huge knife to slowly shear off the top of the scientist’s head right at eye level, just pulling the knife back like he’s running it through butter, and of course the eye goop and other associated gore just spilled downward while a gurgled scream filled the air from the remaining lower jaw stump.
The cook moved on to another scientist’s throat before I finally decided that’s more than I need to see on a Saturday morning and woke up.
I love mountains. I was surrounded by them in Los Angeles, on the San Francisco Peninsula, and in Portland. There is an uneasy, infinite sense to places that aren’t surrounded by mountains. You can go on forever and nothing should go on forever. That’s a rich man’s fantasy.
Mountains were ever-present and eventually I simply decided that I need the ocean right over there to the west and mountains all around me. A mountain is a big, visible beacon on the horizon and I know where I’m headed based on that. San Bruno mountain is over there, Mt. Hood is over here, etc. It’s simplistic but I think I want simple and crave it.
And so, I love mountains in video games, or barring that some far-off beacon that helps me remember where to go. Some of my favorite games have you literally move toward a shining beacon (Dear Esther, Journey), and some merely provide the beacon as a hazy introductory destination. Castlevania’s box art is all about introducing the castle in which all the action takes place, but I didn’t play Castlevania and I did play a game called Castle of Illusion on the Sega Genesis / Mega Drive. It was a game whose art was modeled on many a dark and gloomy castle, with the castle in the title menu and key art serving as an establishing shot for the game’s environment, but it provided the exact kind of goal that I appreciate. There’s the castle, go on.
This first image is the dramatic conclusion to a fast-paced introduction in which Minnie, Mickey’s girlfriend (or spouse? do Disney characters marry?) is kidnapped by a witch named Mizrabel, who is jealous of Minnie’s beauty. Not a very progressive introduction but it evokes that fairy tale sense of heroism that many childrens’ stories (and video games) rely upon.
But that shot! A sharp precipice, green rolling mountains in the background, and a surprisingly mystical and glass-like castle looming in the distance. It’s such a great moment and I can still hear the pulse-pounding music and chase that leads up to it. I want to sit on the clifftop there and just admire the view for a while, which is why I grabbed this screenshot just before the title and menu appear to block it all. It’s a wonderful setup.
Conversely, you have the key art used for the box and marketing (provided by Ryan McGinley of Video Game Art Archive). It’s a strange contrast and the designs here don’t match the in-game visuals, particularly with the modern Mickey design superimposed over the rest of it and a witch straight out of a Halloween store cutout. It’s a kind of disparity common in video game marketing of the 80s and 90s. Still, it sells a sense of mystery, some danger, and certainly a scary mood that would have prompted me to pick up the box and read more about it on the back cover. I only miss the high point of view of the in-game scene that lent a greater sense of place to the game.
Castle of Illusion was remade and released for modern platforms back in 2013, which meant a new visual approach and a chance to reintroduce the iconic key art for a new generation.
They chose the spooky aesthetic for this one and I still prefer the lighter scene from the first game, but at least they included the iconic view of the castle from the edge of a precipice.
The game’s key art is similar to the key art from the first game, with Mickey down below, in hindsight probably meant to trace Mickey’s progression from the distant cliff to the castle interior, where all the action actually takes place. It’s worth noting that the game’s final confrontation takes place in that tower at the edge of the castle and is certainly represented more consistently in the new art.
I sometimes dream of marching toward a tower atop a mountain. I never reach it, and I suspect my fascination with interactive experiences is that they allow me to actually reach the beacon and discover what it is I’m meant to see. They provide neat conclusions to fraught journeys that end just as they should.
I love mountains. I was surrounded by them in Los Angeles, on the San Francisco Peninsula, and in Portland. There is an uneasy, infinite sense to places that aren’t surrounded by mountains. You can go on forever and nothing should go on forever. That’s a rich man’s fantasy.
Mountains were ever-present and eventually I simply decided that I need the ocean right over there to the west and mountains all around me. A mountain is a big, visible beacon on the horizon and I know where I’m headed based on that. San Bruno mountain is over there, Mt. Hood is over here, etc. It’s simplistic but I think I want simple and crave it.
And so, I love mountains in video games, or barring that some far-off beacon that helps me remember where to go. Some of my favorite games have you literally move toward a shining beacon (Dear Esther, Journey), and some merely provide the beacon as a hazy introductory destination. Castlevania’s box art is all about introducing the castle in which all the action takes place, but I didn’t play Castlevania and I did play a game called Castle of Illusion on the Sega Genesis / Mega Drive. It was a game whose art was modeled on many a dark and gloomy castle, with the castle in the title menu and key art serving as an establishing shot for the game’s environment, but it provided the exact kind of goal that I appreciate. There’s the castle, go on.
This first image is the dramatic conclusion to a fast-paced introduction in which Minnie, Mickey’s girlfriend (or spouse? do Disney characters marry?) is kidnapped by a witch named Mizrabel, who is jealous of Minnie’s beauty. Not a very progressive introduction but it evokes that fairy tale sense of heroism that many childrens’ stories (and video games) rely upon.
But that shot! A sharp precipice, green rolling mountains in the background, and a surprisingly mystical and glass-like castle looming in the distance. It’s such a great moment and I can still hear the pulse-pounding music and chase that leads up to it. I want to sit on the clifftop there and just admire the view for a while, which is why I grabbed this screenshot just before the title and menu appear to block it all. It’s a wonderful setup.
Conversely, you have the key art used for the box and marketing (provided by Ryan McGinley of Video Game Art Archive). It’s a strange contrast and the designs here don’t match the in-game visuals, particularly with the modern Mickey design superimposed over the rest of it and a witch straight out of a Halloween store cutout. It’s a kind of disparity common in video game marketing of the 80s and 90s. Still, it sells a sense of mystery, some danger, and certainly a scary mood that would have prompted me to pick up the box and read more about it on the back cover. I only miss the high point of view of the in-game scene that lent a greater sense of place to the game.
Castle of Illusion was remade and released for modern platforms back in 2013, which meant a new visual approach and a chance to reintroduce the iconic key art for a new generation.
They chose the spooky aesthetic for this one and I still prefer the lighter scene from the first game, but at least they included the iconic view of the castle from the edge of a precipice.
The game’s key art is similar to the key art from the first game, with Mickey down below, in hindsight probably meant to trace Mickey’s progression from the distant cliff to the castle interior, where all the action actually takes place. It’s worth noting that the game’s final confrontation takes place in that tower at the edge of the castle and is certainly represented more consistently in the new art.
I sometimes dream of marching toward a tower atop a mountain. I never reach it, and I suspect my fascination with interactive experiences is that they allow me to actually reach the beacon and discover what it is I’m meant to see. They provide neat conclusions to fraught journeys that end just as they should.
Cheese dreams
I was curled around something. Like a life preserver around a sack of flour, maybe. I was sleeping and curled around it. I unfurled and discovered it was my niece. She looked older (she’s a little over two years old now), and she stood up, over me. I was on the ground just then and kind of frozen. She looked me over and waved goodye. She was gone when I stood up. I waited for a bit, then waved goodbye and walked away toward some mountains. They looked like the green ones near my neighborhood with houses lined up all along the ridge. I walked into those mountains and stopped being a person.
It’s dawn, or is it dusk? We’re gathered round a fire on the beach. It’s some fuzzy people who turn out to be my brothers. They are still, quiet. We watch the fire for clues. It’s meant to reveal important things but it’s not. We watch until it’s bright out and the fire can no longer help. I kick sand onto the embers and walk back toward a sand parking lot adjacent to the beach. We each get into our cars and drive away.
He was driving a truck and I was in the passenger seat. My dad drove into a gully road with high cliffs and houses on both sides. I was staring out at them, watching for people in the steep yards but no one ever went outside. The houses were perched on long posts that were driven into the cliffs. We were moving too quickly to make sense of details. We eventually came out the other end of the gully and found a flat, empty lot that went on to the edge of everything. He turned off the road and pulled over next to a square painted onto the asphalt. We swept it clean with push brooms.
My mom is young, exactly like the photo from a wedding in the seventies. Her hair is curled up and she wears blue eyeshadow. She sits on a bar seat inside a Starbucks, looking through the window. At this point it might matter that she’s looking out at a parking lot full of cars. I’m not there but I can see her like I’m standing next to her. She’s wearing the makeup but her cheeks are also shiny from tears, though she’s not crying openly. She drinks coffee with that paper sleeve deal around the cup and then smiles. She looks so happy that I start to cry. My mom turns toward me and hugs me, though I’m still not there. She walks outside with her coffee and disappears into the cars.
Cheese dreams
I was curled around something. Like a life preserver around a sack of flour, maybe. I was sleeping and curled around it. I unfurled and discovered it was my niece. She looked older (she’s a little over two years old now), and she stood up, over me. I was on the ground just then and kind of frozen. She looked me over and waved goodye. She was gone when I stood up. I waited for a bit, then waved goodbye and walked away toward some mountains. They looked like the green ones near my neighborhood with houses lined up all along the ridge. I walked into those mountains and stopped being a person.
It’s dawn, or is it dusk? We’re gathered round a fire on the beach. It’s some fuzzy people who turn out to be my brothers. They are still, quiet. We watch the fire for clues. It’s meant to reveal important things but it’s not. We watch until it’s bright out and the fire can no longer help. I kick sand onto the embers and walk back toward a sand parking lot adjacent to the beach. We each get into our cars and drive away.
He was driving a truck and I was in the passenger seat. My dad drove into a gully road with high cliffs and houses on both sides. I was staring out at them, watching for people in the steep yards but no one ever went outside. The houses were perched on long posts that were driven into the cliffs. We were moving too quickly to make sense of details. We eventually came out the other end of the gully and found a flat, empty lot that went on to the edge of everything. He turned off the road and pulled over next to a square painted onto the asphalt. We swept it clean with push brooms.
My mom is young, exactly like the photo from a wedding in the seventies. Her hair is curled up and she wears blue eyeshadow. She sits on a bar seat inside a Starbucks, looking through the window. At this point it might matter that she’s looking out at a parking lot full of cars. I’m not there but I can see her like I’m standing next to her. She’s wearing the makeup but her cheeks are also shiny from tears, though she’s not crying openly. She drinks coffee with that paper sleeve deal around the cup and then smiles. She looks so happy that I start to cry. My mom turns toward me and hugs me, though I’m still not there. She walks outside with her coffee and disappears into the cars.
I had a dream in which I slept with a woman who I’ve never met. I discovered her years ago and her writing immediately got to me. Very visceral experiences, sad and tragic, but there was a strength there as well. There is such a strength in her writing. Not an unfamiliar story for me, to be drawn to a woman like her, but she also expressed an interest in my writing. It was a thrill for someone whose work I admired to like my stuff as well. In this way I developed a shy Internet affection toward her. The kind of affection expressed in clicking little hearts and stars.
But affection developed on the Internet has burned me. I feared going through it again, and bringing unnecessary drama into someone’s life. As much as I hate it, I seem to nurture that sort of bullshit. Goes back to before any of this Internet stuff. I wasn’t up for it again, in any case.
My heart is racing like it hasn’t in years. The dream was simple. We talked, we flirted, then we slept together. It’s the happiest I’ve been since I don’t want to know when. Haven’t felt a tenderness like I felt in that dream for a while. Just the possibility that I could be with someone with whom I could be natural, free. Happy. That word is rare in my vocabulary. Don’t even think it. It felt dangerously good. The kind of thing that becomes a fantasy. An unreal escape.
I wonder sometimes if that’s the worst thing. A pleasant fantasy. Of tenderness, lust, what have you. I’m like to agree with the opinion that it’s unhealthy, but who’s to say what happens in a dream? It’s a free zone of sorts. If happiness and beauty happen, then they happen. Appreciate the presence while it lasts.
I had a dream in which I slept with a woman who I’ve never met. I discovered her years ago and her writing immediately got to me. Very visceral experiences, sad and tragic, but there was a strength there as well. There is such a strength in her writing. Not an unfamiliar story for me, to be drawn to a woman like her, but she also expressed an interest in my writing. It was a thrill for someone whose work I admired to like my stuff as well. In this way I developed a shy Internet affection toward her. The kind of affection expressed in clicking little hearts and stars.
But affection developed on the Internet has burned me. I feared going through it again, and bringing unnecessary drama into someone’s life. As much as I hate it, I seem to nurture that sort of bullshit. Goes back to before any of this Internet stuff. I wasn’t up for it again, in any case.
My heart is racing like it hasn’t in years. The dream was simple. We talked, we flirted, then we slept together. It’s the happiest I’ve been since I don’t want to know when. Haven’t felt a tenderness like I felt in that dream for a while. Just the possibility that I could be with someone with whom I could be natural, free. Happy. That word is rare in my vocabulary. Don’t even think it. It felt dangerously good. The kind of thing that becomes a fantasy. An unreal escape.
I wonder sometimes if that’s the worst thing. A pleasant fantasy. Of tenderness, lust, what have you. I’m like to agree with the opinion that it’s unhealthy, but who’s to say what happens in a dream? It’s a free zone of sorts. If happiness and beauty happen, then they happen. Appreciate the presence while it lasts.
My brother Abe and I traveled with three dogs into a strange sort of place. We entered a rickety house on the outskirts of winter. The white paint on the walls outside and within was cracked, peeling in bits. The wood curled along the seams. It was an empty, lonely place. There was a black pug, the gray borozi, and perhaps a white poodle. We walked through the house, from empty room to empty room. The only remaining path was a set of steps to the basement. There, we found an old dining table. The door locked behind us. “Up, this way,” I said. We helped the pug, the borozi, and the poodle climb up through a broken window onto the dry, frozen ground above. I gave my brother a boost and he too emerged outside. I returned to the basement interior and splayed out across the dining table, naked. A woman appeared as an outline in space. She rubbed her hands over me until it felt good and then continued rubbing further above. Her bony fingers wrapped around my throat. She tried to force a dark liquor down my gullet. She wheezed as she said, “Drink me, drink me.” The fumes lingered above my face like smog. When she ran out of liquor she stopped and began to weep. I then choked her, her body now in place of mine on the table. I killed her and exploded into a disgusting ball of muscle. I escaped the basement by splintering the basement door. I found old hiking clothes inside a closet on the upper floor and returned to my brother and the dogs. “He’s gone,” said Abe. The pug had been kidnapped away from us. We walked to a nearby market hub. It was busy lanes and people from all over the world. We asked around, describing the pug. It was a compact creature, crushed in from end to end. It was slightly older. Gray hairs encircled its muzzle. No one had seen anything. We were at a loss until Abe recognized a man walking into a storefront. He wore thick black-framed glasses and trimmed his beard into the style of a goatee. Inside we found the beginning of a poker game. An old woman sat at the head of the table. She wore a crushed velvet robe and had long, painted fingernails. “Play a game?” she asked. We sat and played for information about the pug. Time passed and our money was low, but the old woman had stacks of gold coins piled before her. Time passed again and she had few coins remaining. They appear to have been distributed evenly across the table. My brother was drunk and when I looked over he motioned his hand across his neck to indicate it was time to go. We stood and took our winnings. John Candy appeared and gave us our coins. “What about our dog?” we asked. “He’ll be waiting for you at home,” he said. We walked outside into the empty halls of the marketplace. The other dogs were gone. There was nothing else to do but walk home.
My brother Abe and I traveled with three dogs into a strange sort of place. We entered a rickety house on the outskirts of winter. The white paint on the walls outside and within was cracked, peeling in bits. The wood curled along the seams. It was an empty, lonely place. There was a black pug, the gray borozi, and perhaps a white poodle. We walked through the house, from empty room to empty room. The only remaining path was a set of steps to the basement. There, we found an old dining table. The door locked behind us. “Up, this way,” I said. We helped the pug, the borozi, and the poodle climb up through a broken window onto the dry, frozen ground above. I gave my brother a boost and he too emerged outside. I returned to the basement interior and splayed out across the dining table, naked. A woman appeared as an outline in space. She rubbed her hands over me until it felt good and then continued rubbing further above. Her bony fingers wrapped around my throat. She tried to force a dark liquor down my gullet. She wheezed as she said, “Drink me, drink me.” The fumes lingered above my face like smog. When she ran out of liquor she stopped and began to weep. I then choked her, her body now in place of mine on the table. I killed her and exploded into a disgusting ball of muscle. I escaped the basement by splintering the basement door. I found old hiking clothes inside a closet on the upper floor and returned to my brother and the dogs. “He’s gone,” said Abe. The pug had been kidnapped away from us. We walked to a nearby market hub. It was busy lanes and people from all over the world. We asked around, describing the pug. It was a compact creature, crushed in from end to end. It was slightly older. Gray hairs encircled its muzzle. No one had seen anything. We were at a loss until Abe recognized a man walking into a storefront. He wore thick black-framed glasses and trimmed his beard into the style of a goatee. Inside we found the beginning of a poker game. An old woman sat at the head of the table. She wore a crushed velvet robe and had long, painted fingernails. “Play a game?” she asked. We sat and played for information about the pug. Time passed and our money was low, but the old woman had stacks of gold coins piled before her. Time passed again and she had few coins remaining. They appear to have been distributed evenly across the table. My brother was drunk and when I looked over he motioned his hand across his neck to indicate it was time to go. We stood and took our winnings. John Candy appeared and gave us our coins. “What about our dog?” we asked. “He’ll be waiting for you at home,” he said. We walked outside into the empty halls of the marketplace. The other dogs were gone. There was nothing else to do but walk home.
