"The Quiet Ones"

I should probably start by explaining what I mean by such a title, but I won’t, so there. I’ll start by telling a story that never fails to make me appreciate the silent types who only occasionally break their peace in order to convey things which are really important. So here is the story (with a bit of dramatic exaggeration, but not much).

I have a friend called Rebecca who is probably not the traditional quiet type of person. That is to say she doesn’t sit there like an elephant in the room; she chats and has proper conversations and all that. But she never says anything unnecessary. You would never hear her tell you a story twice or ramble on about anything.

So that’s the backing to the story, all of this stuff I knew about her before we went on a camping trip for Duke of Edinburgh, but it was only after that I truly appreciated the advantage of her naturally quiet nature.

I should probably set the scene and I will, if you insist. It was horrible weather, the kind that doesn’t just keep you in doors, but the kind that makes you keep the curtains shut and hope your house hasn’t moved on the flood waters when you open them again. It was our first ever camping expedition and none of us, if we were honest, could entirely understand the principles of map reading.

It was a 2 day trip. The first day with a guide, which worked out okay and then a second where we navigated for ourselves. First we walked half way to the wrong town, which was about 5km of course and were taken back to where we begun by a couple with a dog. After that we shortly got lost again and decided to ‘walk south’ as that’s where the town was, without using the maps or any paths (we’re not sissies damn it! We don’t need any goddamn paths!).

Rebecca said nothing.

The weather finally got bad enough that we were picked up (only after walking along the motorway snivelling waiting to be found) by the minibus. Then we were taken to the station to make our way home looking more like bits of mud that had spontaneously decided to come to life than campers, and with bags that we could fit in ourselves (if we were not carrying so much camping crap that is).

Rebecca didn’t complain.

As the train arrived another member of the group tried to stand up only to find they were attached to the bench. At this point neither hell not high-water was going to stop us getting the hell out of the ‘great outdoors’ and understandably the stuck member of the group freaked out not wanting to miss the train.

Then Rebecca complained.

We all suddenly heard someone shouting “Stop it! Stop it NOW! Calm down! Sit down NOW, I said NOW”. Now, having never heard Rebecca even raise her voice the group was so shocked we were in danger of missing the train ourselves. But, everyone listened and everyone calmed down and we got home fine.

This has lead me to the conclusion that if you wwan tot be listned to only say what is important.

Have a great week guys (sorry for the slow second post, was busy setting up my other blog Guardian

Git – check it out at http://www.guardiangit.blogspot.com/)
Bye

Burkhard Rathesier

If in your younger years or, for the more committed nerdy types, recently you have been into playing online computer games then no doubt you have come across a multitude of platform games. They can range in their appearance from the squeaky clean Red Beard game, in which the main character resembles a Special K Challenge version of Oblix, to the more pixelated and ultimately lovable Save the Sheriff, in which a pig, for reasons unknown, risks life and limb in the desert to ‘save the sheriff’ as the title suggests.

Well, in a simpler time, the screen didn’t scroll like it does it most current platform games, that is to say there was a single screen which the character had to navigate before moving onto the next level. For instance the original Donkey Kong was one of these ‘single screen era’ games. Due to the simple graphics and programming skills required to create such games lots of individuals, most of whom probably weren’t too accustomed to seeing the light of day all that often, could create such simple platform games from the comfort of their own home. Without the need for all the fancy, epileptic fit inducing imaging and all that jazz the platform game was born.

In my opinion the king of such pixelated masterpieces is Burkhard Rathesier, who begun programming games at the tender age of 15 during the 80’s when platform games were ruling the world of online gaming. In the past Rathesier has brought us such classics as Nobby Nuss, in which a squirrel has to avoid peril, in the form of huge insects and honey in order to collect a few measly nuts only to face yet more deadly challenges. I am not ashamed to say, I have never managed to complete, despite the many hours I have spent , or ‘wasted’ as the majority seem to think, playing the game.

Ratheiser has also brought us other classics such as Tony’s Teddy, another platform game – with the twist that you can create the platforms yourself (or just spend hours constructing a masterpiece out of cloud squares), Super Kid, a shooting platform game, and Fill-It.

All this magic was made without working for any major company and without a massive team of producers and supposedly creative designers (who in reality can often just be pricks in architects’ glasses).

Yet, we never hear about these self-taught games programmers in day to day life, they aren’t ever celebrated on TV (apart from possibly in Charlie Brooker’s epic Gameswipe) or known anyone who doesn’t actively search them out – and most that do are labelled as geeks with more free time than they can deal with.

So I strongly suggest you check out Ratheiser’s games at this site:
http://www.students.uni-mainz.de/rathb000/

Have a great week guys.
E. Twitcher

Bored Brit.

I have been told there are three main elements which do into a first blog post; introducing oneself, describing why you will be blogging, the subject of the blog, and encouraging comments.

Who am I? Well, other than a dour somewhat nerdy character of questionable motives, I am a Brit born and bred. I am also, and have always been, a Londoner and, if I do say so myself, fit the stereotype to a tee. That is to say I read on public transport (when I’m not complaining about the delays), have a phobia of strangers, I am always on the lookout for muggers and I certainly never ask for directions.

Well, there are a good 7700000 of us Londoners out and about the world so you’re probably wondering at this point why I felt the need to start blogging.

In the past I have started a few blogs and have had neither the patience nor the motivation to keep them up and running. However, recently, despite having less time than ever and a work load so huge that it makes withdrawing from Afghanistan look like a doddle, I have become increasingly aware of the unsung heroes of the ever degrading chaos that we call home sweet home.

I don’t just mean firemen who risk their own lives day in, day out, to save cats from the uppermost branches of trees but also comedians, writers, dancers, plumbers, teachers, and even some people who are so fantastic they defy categorisation. Ranging from the unknown to the notorious – anyone who is underappreciated.

So, that is my reason for blogging and my subject delivered relatively painlessly. I will be attempting to keep up with at least weekly or bi-weekly entries with the occasional video or photo for those who find reading just a little bit too much to deal with in their lives.

If you have any suggestions as to who you believe to be an unsung hero or want to contact me then I would love to hear from you at:

etwitcher@hotmail.com or etwitcher@googlemail.com

Thanks guys : )
E. Twitcher