"The only impulse Allen cops to is the one to work, maniacally, as if to stave off death. 'It's a way of coping with the world. You know, in the same way that somebody copes with it by being a stamp collector or a sports addict or a titan of industry or an alcoholic or something. My way of coping with the horrors of existence is to put my nose to the grindstone and work and not look up.'"
There are days in the sun: focal-point afternoons, light exploding at right angles around casements, bathing the air in wave-like particles while machines manufacture atmosphere, emitting decibels and cold as fleetly as interiors can allow; and in these hours, after now but before later, I try to remember: what was I like when I was twenty-five? when I was seventeen?
"When I joke that Botox has created a market for a children's book that ought to be titled Why Does Mommy Look Weird?, she laughs. 'Babies learn facial expressions from their mothers, and if all these women are Botoxed, I wonder if we're going to see a generation of very flat-affect toddlers. You really do need to have expression.'"
I don't know much about the Diablo video game franchise (I seem to recall it being popular among a certain contingent of shut-ins during my sophomore year of college; demons, dungeons: boring), but this discussion about the fan outcry over the latest entry's more vibrant aesthetic (versus the ashen tableaux of previous titles), and the trade-offs between atmospheric art direction and playability it highlights, are interesting.
I happen to agree with the lead designer: the grittier approach may have more integrity and present better on a one-off basis, but it's also visually monotonous when you factor in a variable like repetition during the course of the game—to say nothing of questions pertaining to its consistent, reliable execution across a wide variety of hardware configurations and the diminished visibility of interactive elements in murky environments.