Co-piloting Chaos Nova (1). Magic moments!

Vaguely around Earth Occidental Standard Year 2014, the drift of interwebs lead my paths into collaboration course with Chaos Nova universe. I have since had the pleasure to dive into their space opera RPG writing process, dispensing unsolicited advice about universe, life, and everything in the process. Once settled in the "writers' room" and comms all set up, I'd start occasionally joining in for gameplay livestreaming too, either in co-op, or just shout-along. This here is one of those occasions. 




My prior collectible card experience was pretty much limited to watching Hands of Fate (extended) over and over. Okay, and I had also played through some tutorial assignments in digital Magic, and ran some explanation rounds about overall mechanics with KnuxV1 - the opposing hand in the upcoming match, and poked around in the game a bit more on my own.

So I have been playing... (33). Machinarium

Right after completing my recent Fallout playthrough, there was a great wave of let's-play momentum left over; basically my brain stated "must, need to begin a new game right damn now!" I rummaged through my game libraries in search for something completely different in tone and theme; after a few false starts I settled on Machinarium.

Not exactly the world's number one puzzle fan (indirect Czech Connection bonus!) I decided to treat the gameplay as a possible not-in-my-element-and-learning-from-it experience. Once in there, though, my first reaction was sheer delight over how they handle the instructional aspects. I found communicating the objectives, as well as giving feedback for (wrong) actions so elegant and well-targeted that I allowed myself a little professional squee. Also, most "puzzles" turned out to be of the variety I'm okay with - the "find a way to solve this situation" kind, rather than "put the correct elements into the correct configuration in correct sequence for the correctness' sake" kind. (That said, the "kind I'm okay with" will never-ever-fucking-ever extend to slider puzzles. Slider puzzle is the mind killer. Slider puzzle is the little death. When I'm faced with slider puzzle, my instincts tell me to immediately quit the game and never return.) Funny thing is, the occasional player reviews I read, expressed quite the opposite sentiment: where my overall impression went along the lines of "ooh, solving these situations really makes sense in-world, so much unlike typical puzzles," several other players kept saying how the "puzzles were illogical." Maybe it's just the difference in "puzzle-solving" and "problem-solving" thinking modes; or perhaps I've yet to reach those parts in the game.

Various powers of communicating: folks explaining their stuff

So, this video of "Science YouTubers" popped up in the updates section and it immediately caught my attention. Sure, I subscribe to some of those channels myself. And I'd like to think myself as being on a constant path of curiosity, just barely literate enough to recognize and pick up the crumbs of explanation left behind. But the main thing I enjoyed so much about this video is the variety of mediums and ways of communicating on display. I'd say these different methods to "explain your stuff" provide a neat reflection of the different ways to learn as well. (As a learner, I'm awfully fond of doodling. Then again, as an instructor, I'd say my ultimate goal is to get people to tinker.)
Here's the video itself:

The power of playing and power of instruction

I've discovered myself rather busy this week and my creative energy directed elsewhere. On one hand, I've been playing, recording, editing, uploading further bits of my Noobvision Goggles thing. On the other hand I've got quite a bit of workstuff scheduled. In other words all the semi-theoretical musings regarding learning, playing, education and where they all overlap I've stored as bookmarks and notes will probably remain as notes for the moment.

Then again, when I read great stories that other people have written, I still want to spam them on. (Sidenote: my personal use of the verb "spam" goes something like "spread stuff I've enjoyed without provocation and just for the sake of it") So, today I read these two stories by Kate Cox on Kotaku that I immediately wanted to spread on. Both stories explored the learning aspect of gaming - and did so through very different perspectives.

In the first story she told about her own experience with the forgotten or unknown interface elements. I've lived through the "I know what I'm expected to do but I'm stuck at the obviously-very-obvious controls" situation plenty of times myself and also learned to appreciate the power of tooltips. And then there's the
value of learning the hard way that often comes with the Controls Confusion:

There's something to be said for learning by trial and error; the mistake that cost me half my soldiers is not one I will easily forget. But I will be a lot more appreciative the next time I sit down to play a complicated game and I can actually see what the buttons do. It's much easier to take options that you actually know you have.

In the second article she tells the story of one journey (literally as well as metaphorically) from clueless to competent. Here the most important idea is that of support and guidance - one that enables true learning and in effect unleashes beauty and power. (I'm going to sneak in a longer quote because I just enjoyed reading it so very much.)

In Journey, a white scarf player is someone who has found everything the game has to offer: every glyph, every secret. /.../ The white scarf player is a guide.
While we hung back, wanting to let E discover her own path, White Scarf carefully and patiently guided her through a number of levels. With no hands to gesture and no language to speak, White Scarf shepherded her through danger, let her explore, and was there to help her find the treasures of knowledge.
Like a parent, White Scarf helped E through the hard parts, and yet stood back when she was figuring it out on her own. He guided her to shelter when she couldn't yet do it for herself, and taught her how to manage independently. He helped her fly, and then let her take wing.

P.S.:
the phrase "beauty and power" was a quote/reference. From here: