11 de septiembre de 2008

busca las diferencias

La diferencia que hay que buscar difiere de la realidad. A ver quién es el más rápido...

Wiii

3 de septiembre de 2008

algunas cosas

que he hecho este verano.

verano de 2008

---
hay más, así que si las reuno encima de la mesa del salón les saco una foto.

2 de septiembre de 2008

ahora sí que sí

mi patio
---
que se va el verano de verdad, y hay que volver a trabajaaar... qué trajín.

braid

Bueno... hoy me he bajado del Xbox Live Arcade este juego, y he parado un instante para postear esto. Sólo quería deciros que los que no juegan nunca, no van a poder ver esta maravilla. No sé. Es una pena, la verdad, porque no recuerdo haber visto un juego sin introducción, con una introducción más bonita que la de Braid. Sólo he hecho unas cuantas fases y ya quiero que no se termine nunca.


Y esto puede que sea una barbaridad, lo que voy a poner a continuación, pero me da a mí en la nariz que el resto del juego va a ir en este plan...



Ale. Voy a ver si consigo un par de piezas de puzzle más...
:)

---

Tim is off on a search to rescue the Princess. She has been snatched by a
horrible and evil monster.
This happened because Tim made a mistake.
Not just one. He made many mistakes during the time they spent together, all
those years ago. Memories of their relationship have become muddled, replaced
wholesale, but one remains clear: the Princess turning sharply away, her braid
lashing him with contempt.
He knows she tried to be forgiving, but who can just shrug away a guilty lie, a
stab in the back? Such a mistake will change a relationship irreversibly, even
if we have learned from the mistake and would never repeat it. The Princess's
eyes grew narrower. She became more distant.
Our world, with its rules of causality, has trained us to be miserly with
forgiveness. By forgiving too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we've
learned from a mistake and become better for it, shouldn't we be rewarded for
learning, rather than punished for the mistake?
What if our world worked differently? Suppose we could tell her: "I didn't mean
what I just said," and she would say: "It's okay, I understand," and she would
not turn away and life would really proceed as though we had never said that
thing? We could remove the damage but still be wiser for the experience.
Tim and the Princess lounge in the castle garden, laughing together, giving
names to the colorful birds. Their mistakes are hidden from each other, tucked
away between the folds of time, safe.