I vastly overestimated the requirements that we had for our first tutorial and prepared a presentation. I'm not buggin', though! What an excuse to update a blog.
Saturday, 4 October 2014
Monday, 22 September 2014
Masters Degree
After a couple of years loafing around and doing things that had a very casual connectedness to my general long term happiness, I decided to take the plunge and get a masters degree. I'm currently at Birmingham City University, in one of their little offshoot campus's in the city, study production and business for games.
I'm going to try and update this journal so I have something to read and hopefully laugh at.
We spent the first half of the morning just keeping house, basically, but on the second half we started looking at our first module and I found out the frankly cracking news that the buisness students would be making their own games primarily while the rest of the course grouped up. Not that I'm not expecting to work in teams, but boy does it take the pressure off if I can learn Unity when I'm only fucking up my own jam.
So it's basically a space invader's reskin, which is great. A lot of people (uh, everyone apart from me, whoops) launched into an idea and started planning right off the bat, but I wanted to sit on it a little knowing that all the work was on my back and that I can pretty quickly make decisions and cuts if I need to.
Chaucer's Filth Bucket, a medieval reskin where people are throwing their slops out of Tudor looming terraces. Shoot them down! if you don't shoot them, the slops will possibly splatter on the pavement. People might also possible comment.
Monster Tears. A massive monster is crying and it is your job to 'wipe' or BLAST away their tears. Their entire face takes up the back drop, poor dear.
It's Raining Men (and I Find That Uncomfortable). Oh, no, not again. It's raining men. Shoot them down before they land on you. I'm not even sure why they are doing this.
Panic Flapper. I might reverse this concept- every time a player blasts a note, it makes a dreadful noise. BUT YOU WANT TO WIN, DON'T YOU?
And that was pretty much the day. Tomorrow we'll be sitting in on the art class! I have to try not to be motherly.
I'm going to try and update this journal so I have something to read and hopefully laugh at.
We spent the first half of the morning just keeping house, basically, but on the second half we started looking at our first module and I found out the frankly cracking news that the buisness students would be making their own games primarily while the rest of the course grouped up. Not that I'm not expecting to work in teams, but boy does it take the pressure off if I can learn Unity when I'm only fucking up my own jam.
So it's basically a space invader's reskin, which is great. A lot of people (uh, everyone apart from me, whoops) launched into an idea and started planning right off the bat, but I wanted to sit on it a little knowing that all the work was on my back and that I can pretty quickly make decisions and cuts if I need to.
Chaucer's Filth Bucket, a medieval reskin where people are throwing their slops out of Tudor looming terraces. Shoot them down! if you don't shoot them, the slops will possibly splatter on the pavement. People might also possible comment.
Monster Tears. A massive monster is crying and it is your job to 'wipe' or BLAST away their tears. Their entire face takes up the back drop, poor dear.
It's Raining Men (and I Find That Uncomfortable). Oh, no, not again. It's raining men. Shoot them down before they land on you. I'm not even sure why they are doing this.
Panic Flapper. I might reverse this concept- every time a player blasts a note, it makes a dreadful noise. BUT YOU WANT TO WIN, DON'T YOU?
And that was pretty much the day. Tomorrow we'll be sitting in on the art class! I have to try not to be motherly.
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
New Years Resolution: Keep Using the Phrase 'If a guy can build a buttslap bot that feels fear, then I can ___'
My New Years resolutions are about the same as everyone elses; be tidier. Be a tidier person, keep a tidier house, think tidier thoughts. I am assuming we're all going to have the decency to not bring these up a month down the line when you catch me eating my fourth chocolate dipped doughnut in a row and crying because I can't remember the lyrics to Gaston's song Beauty and Beast (who bites and is burly and strong? Gaston, brain. GASTON.).
No, I'd like to play more videogames. The problem when you're broke is that every minute you're not doing something that tangibly relates to plans for making you not broke, you're feeling that oppressed wheeze of guilt. Obviously I'm not the Superman, that doesn't mean I then go put my nose down and grind out more incredible pitches to get rebuffed, what it means is instead of playing a wonderful video game that I could wind down or get inspired by or just laugh at, I sit and I feel bad.
I can see this attitude is a reflection fairly clearly of my upbringing; we were a house very much of indirect requests. At any time I learnt to expect a parent drifting in to ask what I was doing and how long I was planning on doing it for, or Legolas-level observations on what I was doing ('you're lying in bed!' 'you're drawing at night!'), a kind of lower-middle class nagging I'm fairly sure most lower-middle class kids are familiar with. Back then I'd build dens in the bathroom, the only room with a lock on the door, but now I'm 24 and there are no parents, no one in here except the voice that makes me feel guilty on my downtime, and there are no quilts and no bathrooms with enticing locks in my head.
Of course this could all be a part of being tidier; there's nothing tidier then fun unbridled by an edge of quilt, but I'm assuming it'll probably be easier to focus on making my bed every morning then tackling entrenched behavioral issues. What the hey, though, right? it's 2014! if some guy can make a butt robot that fears being slapped then I can probably power up that last Assassin's Creed I never got around to without thinking about the dishes.
No, I'd like to play more videogames. The problem when you're broke is that every minute you're not doing something that tangibly relates to plans for making you not broke, you're feeling that oppressed wheeze of guilt. Obviously I'm not the Superman, that doesn't mean I then go put my nose down and grind out more incredible pitches to get rebuffed, what it means is instead of playing a wonderful video game that I could wind down or get inspired by or just laugh at, I sit and I feel bad.
I can see this attitude is a reflection fairly clearly of my upbringing; we were a house very much of indirect requests. At any time I learnt to expect a parent drifting in to ask what I was doing and how long I was planning on doing it for, or Legolas-level observations on what I was doing ('you're lying in bed!' 'you're drawing at night!'), a kind of lower-middle class nagging I'm fairly sure most lower-middle class kids are familiar with. Back then I'd build dens in the bathroom, the only room with a lock on the door, but now I'm 24 and there are no parents, no one in here except the voice that makes me feel guilty on my downtime, and there are no quilts and no bathrooms with enticing locks in my head.
Of course this could all be a part of being tidier; there's nothing tidier then fun unbridled by an edge of quilt, but I'm assuming it'll probably be easier to focus on making my bed every morning then tackling entrenched behavioral issues. What the hey, though, right? it's 2014! if some guy can make a butt robot that fears being slapped then I can probably power up that last Assassin's Creed I never got around to without thinking about the dishes.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)