Dungeons, Dragons, The Internet, Simplicity

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I’d like to discuss Dungeons and Dragons and the internet, and not just in the many incredibly nerdy ways I could. Dungeons and Dragons gives us an idea of the mechanics that could help make the internet useful again, as opposed to a bastion of advertising and bad comments.

Trust me on this.

So let’s talk Dungeons and Dragons, that game that pretty much launched Role-Playing Games as A Big Thing. It’s popular,and let us be honest, it’s terribly overcomplicated as befits something that originated in war games. I was there playing it in the 80s, and the critique has always been accurate.

Also I remember when a Paladin could roll a horse that was smarter than them.

A funny thing is Dungeons and Dragons and what it inspired also inspired wonderfully streamlined game systems. My favorite are the open-sourced Forged In The Dark system. The foundation Blades In the Dark showcases a streamlined system for a dark steampunk fantasy. The space adventure game Scum and Villainy combined various tropes, and made the inevitable starship a character. The game Wicked Ones inverted generic fantasy so people play monsters, and did everything from making a simple magic system to envisioning the messy idea of “followers” as “secondary characters.”

Forged In The Dark and it’s children got to the basics of what an RPG was, what people wanted, and made straightforward, playable games. If you haven’t checked out the system, do!

The thing is these streamlined, effective, precise games probably wouldn’t have existed without Dungeons and Dragons and its spinoffs. You needed complicated spell systems to realize “maybe this could be easier.” Complicated piles of various dice seem fun, but also lead one to wondering “could it just be six-sided dice?” Maybe you need levels, skills, saving throws, and so on to get the Forged In The Dark concept where characters are defined by “Actions” – general abilities like “Finesse” or “Science.”

Now the internet itself is terribly over complicated – and deliberately so to extract more income for various companies. It’s a simple thing that evolved to have layer and layer and layer on it, leaving us now in a world that’s called “Web 3.0.” But out of this overdone world maybe there’s a clue to what we actually want – we can learn from the pile of what we don’t want.

Mastodon is nice, and I am all for federation, but maybe Twitter was needed to give us ideas of what to do – and not do.. There’s a lovely Fediverse book review sharing program and video sharing, and so on. People are rediscovering RSS and even think of new ways to use it as the web drowns in crap. The excess gives us ideas, sometimes the idea is “maybe we shouldn’t have done that” – I mean there’s a reason I still send out a cut-and-paste-addresses email newsletter.

So for all the horrible stuff we’re dealing with, we can also ask what worked and what we wanted – and what we didn’t. We probably needed to ask that about ten years ago as a society, but at least we can do what we can now. We ask what we want, how to get it simply, and how to make it work for everyone.

It’s a bigger game to play, but we can find the best rules – and we can drop what we don’t need.

Steven Savage

We’re Not Serious

Ted Giola wrote a fascinating article asking if the US is in a crisis of seriousness. I found this relevant as it codified my feelings about many things the last year or two, as well as the election. As I often warn, this column’s inspirations may not be who you think, but it’s easy to think it’s about THEM. So assume this post is about everyone including you and me.

The article is worth a read, so much so that I’ll just summarize it that ye, the US and to an extent the world is in a crisis of seriousness. We’re performative, we’re working on outrage, our culture is about special effects and marketing, but none of it is serious. Everything is a business, marketing, or frivolous – and oft mass-marketed (I’d argue the latter somewhat). Even when we attempt to be serious there’s nothing too serious about it as we churn out memes and pointless protest and anything but real stuff that feels real and is real.

If we can even recognize reality anymore.

This struck me as for the last year or two I’ve been feeling a decreased lack of interest in many things. It wasn’t depression as I had no sign of that. I was enthused about things, new things, in ways I hadn’t experienced before or in decades. But so much felt empty or pointless, disconnected.

New anime, so what. Some films that looked cool, but . . . eh. Same old same old. No there there. Unserious.

Now I look at this idea that so much of life is performative, unseriousness, spectacle (dare I say, a Society of the Spectacle) that I realize how much I don’t care. I’m bogged down in ads I didn’t want, on websites I don’t like anymore if I ever did, and while I can find great, truly real things on YouTube or Roku, a lot, and I mean a lot is performative shallowness.

And politics? Well I couldn’t tell eighty percent of that from my Youtube or Podcast surfing, or the memes that came across facebook, or anything else. So much is InstaXTubeBook posts (made worse with AI), so much is performing. It’s no wonder people embrace “authentic” even if most of the time they don’t know what authenticity is anymore.

But it wasn’t just this performative, unseriousness element. I realized what made this worse than annoying is that our Unseriousness in the US (and elsewhere) is paired with something worse. Something that together with this unseriousness puts us in pretty deep trouble.

I’ve written here – as many have written elsewhere – about how our economies and governments actually don’t do what we need. A lot of systems have gone stark raving mad, because people focus on things not related to the job they say they’re going to do. You can become rich laying off most of your company and juicing stocks even though your company doesn’t do the job it says it does. Politicians cut all sorts of insane ads to get into office to deliver nothing – its a joke how many get caught endorsing the results of a bill they performatively rejected.

We have economic and political systems where people benefit from not actually doing what they say they’re going to do. We’ve built A System that smart, or clever, or lucky people can manipulate for fame and power, but it has nothing to do with what we say it does. You can get rich by not doing anything useful – and are probably destructive – and be hailed a “leader” or a “genius.”

The Economy and Politics are complex systems, built over decades and centuries, and some people learned how to push the buttons over and over so money pops out.

Now combine the Unserious and Performative with Gaming The System and you get an extremely dangerous and toxic blend. How many so called “leaders” or “experts” are just people putting on an act and who found where the Money Button is? They don’t do anything productive or useful – in fact they’re destructive – but they learned to put on an oft-buffoonish act and how to get that bread.

It reminds me of a person grousing about politics saying, roughly, “at least sometimes kings had to lead a battle.” They weren’t royalist at all, but were making a similar point that useful should be important.

That’s where I find myself, looking at my disgust and dissatisfaction over the last few years, Giola helped me see it. It’s the lack of seriousness and the manipulation of the system, entirely disconnected from anything real. We’ve built a stupidly complex world we didn’t need, didn’t really want, and boy did some idiots get rich off of it.

I said at the start this should be taken as being about you and me first, before we talk The Others. I can honestly say the last year or so I’ve looked back at myself and seen how much I’ve done that was Unserious in the bad way. Yes it got me here, but I can also see how much time and resources and even relationships I wasted not being properly serious.

At least I have the self awareness, but as we’ve been careening around the last few decades, I don’t think a lot of people “in charge” do.

(By the way, don’t expect this to be the last column on the subject. Like “The Unaccountability Machine” this one hit HARD.)

Steven Savage

The Un-Measurable Cost of Bullshit

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

As my regular readers are painfully aware, I feel a lot of the world is awash in bullshit, and the technology world triply so. We’re sold products we don’t need, that don’t do what we want, from companies who will then collapse and be sold off for parts. Meanwhile too much of the media celebrates innovations that basically burn money and forests while delivering nothing but stock prices. And if you think you know what I’m talking about, once again don’t be so sure, I have a long list of grievances.

And I wonder how much does this stuff cost us? I’m not just talking money, but time, social damage, environmental damage, and having to clean up after it all falls apart.

I think it’s hard to measure because a lot of the economic bullshit is now a loop.

Investors invest in each other and the people they know to get a return, even if a service won’t provide anything. Media breathlessly starts a hype cycle about nothing, and will do it again weeks or months later having learned little. Bookkeeping flummery keeps the real costs off of the books and out of view. Environmental impact is exported. There’s a giant cycle that occupies a lot of time and resources to keep people from asking what time and resources are being consumed.

And we do it all over again repeatedly and more rapidly.

We can’t measure costs of all this meaninglessness as it moves too fast, doesn’t have enough data, because of made-up data, and because we’ll do it all again anyway. We know there’s bullshit in the economy, but we can’t penetrate the veil of it to figure what it costs us until the bill becomes due the hard way.

It’s enough to make you wish you could yell “stop” and we’d all just stop inventing stuff for ten years so we could pick up the pieces and see how much people were lying. And yes, I thought about how long that freeze should be.

I have the unsettling feeling that an enormous amount of our economy is waste that yields little more than line go up for a tiny amount of people. But I’d like if we could pause and find out.

Pause voluntarily, that is. Judging by the way our climate is changing, we’re gonna get a pretty hard pause involuntarily.

Steven Savage