Am(you)sement

Humans have a need to game, to watch games and, for some, to create games. It is intrinsic, it is a distraction from everyday vexations, a way to stimulate our minds, a purpose and an expression. It is significant and fundamental enough that even people struggling in difficult conditions find ways to innovatively design games, and many charitable organizations realize that enlightening people about this simple truth is a key to driving action.

A lot of kids in developing countries find time, in between the grueling work and conditions they are put upon to endure, to game or to make toys out of what is commonly regarded as garbage. Keeping an old tire running down the street with just a stick (think of the parallels to some Western kids’ games), making guitars out of plastic bottles and string, floating paper boats in (depressingly) open sewer ways, humans can find games anywhere.

I remember watching a documentary about an ex-prisoner who was in solitary confinement in the past (in Alcatraz of all places), who stated he took the button of a shirt, and would drop it on the floor. Then he would feel the floor with his hand all around the cell until he found the button. This simple act was performed in a pitch black, miserable little cell in order to keep him sane.

During my long-ago trip to India, I was amazed how popular Spirographs, Parcheesi, Snakes and Ladders and other board games were, and how so many locally made versions of these games were important in many poor people’s lives.

On another train of thought, these guys are a bit more synchronized than their US counterparts, perhaps scarily so…


Look out for the epic, dark fantasy ebooks of Goodreads-rated author T.P. Grish at:
http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/  

Update on T.P. Grish's Fantasy Epic Ebooks

My new author page is viewable here: http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/ 
It features free previews and info about my books, so far I have a dark fantasy epic out, and a humorous short story. I plan on writing mostly fantasies.

Steel, Magick and Faith has 3/5 on Goodreads, IS NOW AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK, and has been spotlighted, see the author page. Reviews and more spotlights are coming up!

Here are the links for my books on Amazon:

Fantasy:
http://www.amazon.com/Steel-Magick-Rothwyn-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B007P0UI3M

Short Story:
http://www.amazon.com/Maldives-Malady-Tropical-Adventure-ebook/dp/B00A96KUQE

Voyeurism (and) or Human Interest

Webcams have been used, in conjunction with specially designed sites, to broadcast people’s lives, and in some extreme examples have been used to broadcast people’s entire lives.

Jennifer Ringley placed cameras in her residence and set up a 24 hour live webcast of her life (at first some parts were censored, but soon it became 24 hours). This lasted from 1996-2003. This created a controversy at the time, being one of the first 24 hr invasions of privacy, and because the camera was left on even during intimate encounters or events.

Did people really gain an insight or understanding into the details of an ordinary person’s life by watching her webcam, was it art? Or did people use it as a puerile, voyeuristic peepshow? And where is the boundary between the two?

A camera is in development, that can record someone’s entire life of memories by taking millions of photos at intervals, or when it detects the presence of a person entering the user’s periphery. Is this perhaps more artistic than a webcam, considering it is taking pictures from a person’s viewpoint, and because it can be very useful in preserving memories for people with Alzheimer’s, or people who lose parts of their memory in an accident?
The dark side of the webcam presence is the millions of pay-per-view sites selling trashy content.
In contemporary times, very few people want photos or images of themselves being broadcast periodically. People do post multiple Twitter and Facebook postings detailing mundane moments of their life, and upload pictures of everything from their cat to their lunch.

The difference is posting is manual, not automatic, meaning there is some forethought about posts (although it may not feel like it at times when you read people’s posts). Facebook and Twitter is probably, in my opinion, being used mostly as a way to project someone’s desired image or personality to an audience, not to reveal someone’s true nature.

But, is that too fine a distinction? If ordinary people have access to a  low-barrier-of-entry, accessible social media platform, doesn’t that automatically mean they are empowered to post their real thoughts? Maybe a large part of life is the mundane.



Look out for the epic, dark fantasy ebooks of Goodreads-rated author T.P. Grish at:
http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/ 

Concise (Re-constituted) Communication

Should brevity be the soul of communication, or should time and format bend to fit the desired message to be communicated, in full? How much do we lose, or possibly gain, by restricting message sizes?

Twitter’s 140 character limit makes it easier to disseminate and digest communication, and does provide an equalizer for posts from your average John or Jane Q. Twitterer and politicians and celebrities.

But, how much quality do we lose, how much context and descriptivity do we lose by constantly making information more and more concise. Even on Facebook, where there is no limit to posts, the democratic nature of the Wall dictates that everyone should have their 15 minutes of attention and then let us concentrate on the next post.

Is it acceptable for communication to be boiled down to the key points, or is the detail, tense and tone the mortar that holds the bricks of communication together? When following friends, family or politicians/industry figures on social media sites, especially Twitter, do you ever regret that the communication is so condensed, or is it that impromptu nature of posts that give real insight into the un-rehearsed thoughts of a person? The ability to get an un-rehearsed opinion or train of thought from a person is great and something I am very interested in, even though it does get some foolish people in trouble.

I guess one key thing I am asking is, do the character limits, whether imposed or expected, serve a useful purpose of cutting off people who ramble on too mu-



Look out for the epic, dark fantasy ebooks of Goodreads-rated author T.P. Grish at:
http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/ 

Mining into our hearts, or attentions?

The Chilean Mining crisis of 2010 held our attention as purported global citizens for a long while, with widespread commercial media interest reporting on the personal details and quirks of each miner, in addition to a breathless reporting of the unfolding facts. It’s no surprise the story was so interesting, it combined danger with human interest, words which have a lot of traction in newsrooms. However, the story experienced a high rate of geographical penetration compared to similar disaster stories. Of course as humans we are happy all the miners emerged with no casualties or permanent injuries, a seeming miracle; and that they can return to their families. And of course, during a disaster, the situation and statistics are typically narrated, along with footage; the grief and prayers for survivors are given because of the unspoken knowledge that these are humans in trouble. But what interested me about this crisis was the focus on specific human details.


On top of essential supplies, miners were accommodated other requests such as one’s request to have Elvis Presley songs blasted into the hole; and that man upon release was invited to a free trip to Graceland.


We felt joy as we saw a little girl reunited with her rescued father, and there were some more humorous and risque moments as one miner’s wife and mistress ran into each other outside the mine, as they asked authorities about his welfare. Upon rescue, his mistress was waiting there but not his wife, and he greeted her with a brusque hug and kiss. Who knows how that situation will turn out for them?


These situations often end in death and tragedy, so it is a miracle no one died. But perhaps to distract us from the grim realism we focus on human details, even humorous ones to distract us. Media and corporate interests were all over the miners with offers and free vacations. Was it purely for advertising reasons, or were the media corporations genuinely fond of the resilient miners? More importantly, were we comforted by the triumph of life over death because it made our own problems seem less tangible, or were we sincerely  touched by the rescue? I like to think it can be both.


One thing is for sure, a lot of people who previously knew nothing about Chile, were tuning into the story and sending their prayers.



Look out for the epic, dark fantasy ebooks of Goodreads-rated author T.P. Grish at:
http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/ 

Author Page for T.P Grish

Got a proper author page:

http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/

Extract from the Shard of Palrinah, the second book in the Remus Rothwyn Chronicles

The first book is here: www.amazon.com/Steel-Magick-Rothwyn-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B007P0UI3M

Weylin strode across the marble-lined bridge in the Monastery of St. Palrinah. The monastery was perched on a seaside cliff face, and the complex expanded onto small islands near the cliff-side. The two small islands were as tall as the mainland cliff-side, small areas of land elevated atop of protruding towers of rock. The monastery towered over the roaring surf below, and wide bridges connected the main building with the islands. Sounds of gulls, bright sunlight, and fresh salt air greeted Weylin as he made his way to the main monastery proper, but he was not the kind of man who could readily appreciate these things. His mind was focused on some very interesting and confidential information that had been divulged to him by his superiors, and his steps were quick and guided.

The recent months had been turbulent, but ultimately were a blessing for the dark-haired, boyish-faced man. He had risen through the ranks of the Paragonites fairly quickly; he was still low-ranking, but reaching the position of Disciple of the First Order this quickly was rare. He wore the robes of the order, which were burnt-orange and brown coloured and inscribed with the tenets of the order. His well-made leather sandals clipped on the stone bridge. He certainly looked the part of a Paragonite monk, and had done a good job of conveying his zealotry for the order. However, if one looked carefully at his hazel eyes, you would see not faith or religious zeal, but ambition.

Weylin reached the entrance to the monastery, and began ascending the stairs. The interior was dim and cool, intense sunlight being channeled through windows, throwing splotches on the ground. Groups of robed monks stood quietly conversing in corners, or sat on the floor praying. As Weylin walked towards Brother Renaldin’s private chambers, he reflected on the time that had passed since he left his home town of High Peaks. At first, it was an initial rush through the forest, surviving as well as he could. Approaching Yondern, he cleaned himself up as much as he could in a forest pond, so he could be presentable upon entering the city, a place he had been to before to practice law.

He talked to some old clients, and there was one who was having legal problems related to land issues. He already had a lawyer, but saw the need for an assistant for his lawyer, to assist in the drudgery of paperwork and clerical matters. Weylin moved to the client’s estate outside the city to complete the task, and remained there for the duration of the job, glad to be out of sight from the authorities. Weylin hardly remembered anything about the case, he had been merely interested in earning enough money to travel further. In the few days he spent in Yondern, he did research about any potential job offers he could find, that would take him out of the city.

The Steelwielders and St. Lusites were strong in the city, but Weylin thought it would be unwise for a Touched to be part of organizations that eschewed his kind, or any connection to magic. He heard of a conflict between the Steelwielders and the Paragonites from Eruthia, and performed more research on the group, discovering that they had a more tolerant attitude towards magick and the Touched. There were a few Paragonites in Yondern, as open war had not been declared yet, and he got to talking with them, persuading them he was a rogue needing salvation, and that he very much admired their tenets. He was advised to go a city in Eruthia named Rhineholm, and ask for admission at the Paragonite compound there.

Crossing the border into Eruthia, he had arrived at Rhineholm. The resourceful man had managed to persuade the priests of St. Palrinah to give him a chance. The work started off as assisting them in diplomatic issues, using his clerical and legal skills, but then soon he became involved in fighting their enemies and defending their interests. He had confided in his superiors about his Touched skills, hoping it would give him an advantage that countered his lack of physical or martial prowess.

They had been welcoming regarding his powers, and Weylin completed more and more tasks successfully, learning about the faith and projecting a dedication to it. He had eventually been shipped to a Monastery dedicated to St. Palrinah, located in a remote area outside the gates of any city, to train and help the cause in a greater capacity.

Weylin’s training and routine assignments had been interrupted this day by his master, who bequeathed upon him some private information that was most intriguing. He would learn more when he arrived at Brother Renaldin’s chambers. Weylin snapped out of his reminiscing as he entered the corridor that contained his master’s quarters. Knocking on the door, he was told to step in.

Inside the room sat Renaldin, two senior Disciples, and a man that Weylin had not seen before. ‘Sit, Brother’, Renaldin bade him in his dulcet tones. The two senior priests gave Weylin a curt nod, while the unidentified man simply stared ahead. ‘As I told you this morning, Weylin, one of our fold found a very unique Touched, one such as yourself… but quite different. He sits right over there’. Renaldin gestured towards the unidentified man.

Weylin observed the man, taking in every detail. He was powerfully built, and was a normal looking man, although he seemed to permanently have a dour expression on his face. His brown-hair was close-shaven. Weylin noticed that he wore robes of pure grey, unlike the robes of the Order. Why would they make him wear grey, unless it was to somehow distinguish or separate him from the rest of the Brothers and Sisters of the order?

‘What is his name?’ Weylin asked.

‘His previous name and identity no longer matter. I… have decided to name him ‘the Prodigy’, for his exceptional abilities in the use of magick’.

‘Oh. And where was he found, and by whom?’ Weylin inquired.

‘He was found wandering in Eruthia, spurned by all, needing a home and purpose. Who found him is none of your concern, but he or she has been well rewarded. The Prodigy has been with us for months now, and Brother Gaius has been handling his training himself’.

Weylin knew of brother Gaius, he had a reputation for being the harshest and most abusive of instructors at the monastery. The reputation was well-earned, as Weylin had discovered during his brief attendance in one of the brother’s classes. As the Prodigy stared forward blankly, a shred of sympathy sparked in Weylin’s mind at the removal of identity and value the monks had subjected him to. Weylin’s own journey had been inspired by the desire to retain his individuality, identity and value- rather than rotting away in prison or hanging from the executioner’s noose.

‘Let us get to the main revelation, the very aspect that made us so interested in the Prodigy. He, you see, has access to all four elements’.

Weylin was taken aback mentally, carefully considering the words.

Renaldin smiled knowingly, not surprised at the reaction. He had received the exact same reaction when he informed the other select high-ranking members, of the situation. ‘That is right, Brother Weylin. Our friend here is the only human in known history to have control over the power of flame, wind, water and earth. And his raw power with each of these sources is quite impressive. He is a most unique Touched’. Renaldin sat back on his wooden chair and clasped his hands on his chest.

‘If this is true, then he will be a great asset indeed’. Weylin immediately regretted the words, he was not sure if he had stepped over the line into subordination by implying he did not believe Renaldin’s statement.

Renaldin simply smiled and suggested a demonstration. 

* * *


Look out for the epic, dark fantasy ebooks of Goodreads-rated author T.P. Grish at:
http://booksoftpgrish.blogspot.com.au/