Kafka In The Friend Zone

In The Friend Zone is a Twine game by me that you can play (for free!) on itch.io.

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My work on Friend Zone began with the game’s ending: a sort of prolonged joke riffing on a parable called “Before The Law” by a writer named Franz Kafka. Here are the parable’s opening lines:

Before The Law stands a doorkeeper. A man from the country comes to this doorkeeper, and requests admittance to The Law. But the doorkeeper says that he can’t grant him admittance now. The man thinks it over and then asks if he’ll be allowed to enter later. “It’s possible,” says the doorkeeper, “but not now.”

The man might overpower the doorkeeper if he wanted to, but behind this doorkeeper is another; behind that one is yet another, and so on. Each, if you believe what the doorkeeper says, is more powerful than the last. The man tries for years to talk his way in. He begs, he pleads; he bribes the doorkeeper with everything he owns. Nothing works.

Eventually the man is old and dying, and still he has not seen The Law. Then, as his death approaches, blinding light shoots from the doorway. He experiences an epiphany. All his thoughts and memories coalesce into a single shining question, which he puts forth to the doorkeeper: “Everyone strives to reach The Law,” says the man. “How does it happen, then, that in all these years no one but me has requested admittance?”

The doorkeeper tells him that no one else could have passed through this door. This door was made only for him.

I think the parable is about mistaking the subjective for the universal. The man imagined The Law within his own mind, so vividly that he mistook it for something outside himself: something tangible, something real. He further mistook it for something after which everyone strove, when in truth only he could strive after that which only he had imagined. The man desired something to seek, and not to feel alone in seeking it; and so, like a dog chasing its own tail, this man came to chase The Law.

My joke—what would become the conclusion of my Twine game—plays off the very same mistakes, though replacing “The Law” with “The Sex”. Before The Sex sits a casual acquaintance. A man from Reddit comes to this acquaintance and asks to gain admission to The Sex. He believes that as a man he must pursue some universal ideal of manhood: that this is his purpose and birthright, sought by him and all men like him. In truth he is more like a dog; though he hopes chasing tail will bring meaning to his life, the only tail he really chases is his own.

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Armageddon

Armageddon is a videogame by me you can read about in this blog post and play (for free!) on itch.io.

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Everybody has to do something. Me, I dissociate. So when I look back at my graduation photo I don’t recognize myself in the face. I see the glassy half-sneer my muscles make each time they force a smile; I see the silly robes my university afforded me, and the silver medallion my parents had me present to the camera. But that was just my body. I don’t live in my body. I am aware of the places it goes and the things it does, but I am not in it. Instead, I live in a dream. While my body lurches through conversations, I busy myself imagining what I might have said, and how my acquaintances might have been impressed; how they might have responded, and what I might have gained. While my body quakes and slouches in proximity to some person it finds attractive, I flirt with a phantasmic projection. While my body drains the bar of whiskey I might well be on the dancefloor. My body does not like to dance, but I do. It resents me for it. We have become estranged.

On that day when I graduated it felt like the dream was ending. In university there had always been time to meet the people I wanted to meet, to realize the personality I coveted in my fantasies and to lead the sort of life I imagined I should lead. Now there was no time, and my body had not done any of these things. As we prepared for convocation my body and I looked out at three hundred faces; many had been acquaintances, but precious few were friends. My body was lonely, for those faces smiled away from it. The dream gave me some measure of solace; though it faded second by second, in there the faces smiled at me.

I began Armageddon during the ‘Compo’ section of Ludum Dare 27 (a game jam whose theme was “10 seconds”). It’s a game about that moment when the dream ended, and about the ensuing years. It’s about how to confront privilege, and then how to confront failure. It’s about how Vancouver becomes two different cities late at night, when the skytrains stop running but other people still drive their cars. Mostly it’s about that peculiar sort of stasis that happens when the gears in your brain spin independent of your worldly form. One day it will burn you to cinders.

Green Dragon

Green Dragon is a videogame by me that you can read about and play (for free!) on this very website. Presently it comes in Windows, OSX and Linux versions. I made this game for Ludum Dare’s 48 hour Compo, where it placed 55th out of nearly 1500 entries.

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One night in university I experienced a fever dream that I still think about every day. In the dream I was an adolescent who’d spent his life stargazing through a telescope. I’d been trying the whole time to discover the location of one particular celestial body: A giant, dead green dragon floating somewhere in deep space. Its existence was rumoured, but never confirmed.

On the night of the dream I finally found it. Through the telescope I could see only fragments: a leg, a wing, a neck. Its corpse was disintegrating gracefully out there, scales trailing off into blackness as they blinked in the starlight. I felt I had to go find the thing; to touch it, to commune with it. This was a task of spiritual importance. In my dream the dragon was everything. It was me; the real me. Somehow I assembled a group of vague companions resembling the cast of a late-’90s Final Fantasy game. We departed from our home planet in search of the dragon, a flock of human forms drifting upwards from the Earth.

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