Global Financial Crisis and Books

While the entire world is facing the global financial crisis, publishers rush to get crisis books out. Not exactly a complaining, there are some interesting writings to check out. But I would like to know your ideas about this rush. Anyway, here are my suggestions for these months:

Global Financial Crisis and Books

The Subprime Solution: How Today’s Global Financial Crisis Happened, and What to Do about It. In this trenchant book, best-selling economist Robert Shiller reveals the origins of the crisis and puts forward bold measures to solve it. He calls for an aggressive response, a restructuring of the institutional foundations of the financial system that will not only allow people once again to buy and sell homes with confidence, but will create the conditions for greater prosperity in America and throughout the deeply interconnected world economy.

The New Paradigm for Financial Markets. George Soros argues that the current crisis differs from the various financial crises that preceded it. He bases that assertion on the hypothesis that the explosion of the US housing bubble acted as the detonator for a much larger “super-bubble” that has been developing since the 1980s. The underlying trend in the super-bubble has been the ever-increasing use of credit and leverage.

The Finance Crisis and Rescue: What Went Wrong? Why? What Lessons Can Be Learned?. It features thought leaders from the Rotman School explaining the financial crisis and rescue from a variety of perspectives.

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Art, Communication, Connectivity

Michael Marcus (also known as “Jacques Treatment”) is a published author, poet, artist, and game designer; with George McVey, he has been publishing comics as “The Hamtramck Idea Men” on the very sensible grounds that they live in Hamtramck, have many ideas, and they are men. Joint work can be found at http://idea-men.us while his earlier work sits at http://www.treatmentlabs.com.

Art, Communication, Connectivity

When first approached by Manuel Marino to write an article, I found myself excited in the extreme — first, because I had been noticed in the vast sea of high-noise/low-signal called the Internet as someone worth approaching, and second, because it would be an opportunity to promote the work that George McVey and I were doing with our comic books, games, t-shirts, and other fine arts, and third, because it would give me an opportunity to vent about the apparent lack of creativity in the comics biz and why we are producing the finest comic books in the field. Then, when I sat down to write, I thought I would write about my own particular love of game design and how it mixes the art (and in some cases, storytelling) with what is essentially a mathematical process to produce something attractive and entertaining without giving one player or another an inherent advantage. In the end, however, as passionate as I am about both subjects, attempts at writing the articles proved dry to any but the most familiar of audiences, and the last thing I wanted to do is bore people. Instead, the subject that came to mind is the one behind everything I do: communication.

Communication is inherent, even if it is nearly forgotten, in almost every work of art. Whether it is the artist communicating an idea to the canvas or, eventually, to an audience by means of the canvas, the interaction spawned by the processes of a good game, the telling of stories by a good book or comic book, or the conveyance of mood and message by a good song or other musical piece, it is the very fact THAT there is signal being transferred and translated that often gets lost. Whereas Marshall McLuhan may have said, “The medium is the message,” I would hold instead that it provides a context wherein meaning is derived — while a book may describe an experience, for example, a comic book or film may share the same experience more clearly, but the same message carries differently with the immediacy of dramatic theater, wherein the wall of the participants and the audience can find itself weakened or even torn down by force.

What, then, of surrealist work, or work done by surrealist means, wherein chance plays the greater part in creating the artifice than does a preconceived message? That depends on the type of work being attempted, whether it is to provoke a sense of whimsy or provide an initiation into an otherworldly space, whether it challenges the audience to “fill in the blanks” through a sense of mystery or negative space, or whether it encourages the reader to follow along with the author’s thought processes and achieve a similar critical or rational context along the same lines as the author. Where automatic writing encourages the latter, for example, Gysin’s “cut-ups” (wherein the pages of a written piece are quartered and refitted before publication) invite the reader to “connect the dots” and reassemble meaning, providing a disorienting challenge to the mind in the process. It is in this way that the surrealist confronts his or her audience with a work of art that engages the human tendency to attempt to make order from chaos, when the primary meaning is in the confrontation itself (and the secondary meaning is in the absurdity, whimsicality, or atonal nature of the process).

This, then, illuminates why I design games, write prose, paint, and create other things the way I do: They provide a context by which I might share an experience, or, more likely, the effect that something that I have experienced has had upon me. This is why I find that the most successful works that I have done are not necessarily those which I have created in a state of inspiration as much as those where I have had more of a dialog with the medium of the communication itself–that is to say, the pieces that seem to communicate best to the people who experience them, whether by being viewed (in the case of visual arts) or being played (in the case of a game), are the ones where I studied the piece itself as it proceeded, even if the result has less craftsmanship or less of my personal interest in the piece itself. For example, in my portion of the Hamtramck Idea Men art gallery the piece that has the most meaning for me is “Augmentation of Chaos,” which is gives chaos a “face” based on its connotations to me. The one, however, that seems to garner the most favorable interest is “Frustrated Joy,” which came to that title based both on the color scheme (the “Joy” in question) and how much it failed, at every step of creation, to become anything like my visualization and plan for the piece. It is as if the piece radiates my energy through the process of creation despite the fact that it has the least meaning for me.

If there is one thing that I have noticed with the advent of technology, it is that more and more experience come without the direct interaction of two people; the computer becomes an intermediary in most communication; this is true even in chat-rooms, where the users’ ability to edit what they say (at the very least, since some adopt alternate personae that they role-play) changes the nature of the exchange. Similarly, analog photographs lose some of their resolution (and with the advent of PhotoShop, still more of their original content), brush strokes lose some of the wondrous elements of their textures, and even digital sampling loses some of the fidelity of sound quality (even the best sample fails to be perfect). This is why, when I designed Gamer’s Dozen, I desperately wanted to create a set of games that anyone could play, face-to-face, at any skill level, with nigh-infinite replayability. I wanted something that facilitated communication and interaction between people without computer interfaces in the way. That, then, would have to be the source of my desire to create–to make a connection with the outside world, something that tends to be rather difficult these days.

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What is Anglo-Welsh Literature and why Should Anyone Care?

Ceri Shaw is a former college lecturer from Cardiff, South Wales. Currently he attempts to make a living as a Web Designer and as a freelance writer on a range of topics including Literature. He is a regular contributor to Americymru.com. Ceri wrote this article about Anglo-Welsh literature and its exploration of the themes of national, cultural and personal identity.

What is Anglo-Welsh Literature and why Should Anyone Care?

As a Welsh ex-pat currently residing in the USA I have noticed a profound disparity between the notion of Wales that many Americans of Welsh descent entertain and the reality that I left behind five years ago. Nowhere is this more evident than in the literary field. The triumphs of yesteryear are rightly held in high regard but modern literary trends and authors are sadly neglected. The legacy of Dylan and R.S. Thomas is , of course, sacred to us all, but Wales has moved on and a new genertaion of writers reflect that fact.In recent decades we have witnessed a flowering of literary culture in Wales and stereotypical Welsh writing so famously satirized by Harri Webb in his poem “Synopsis of the Great Welsh Novel” has been left far behind. We have seen the emergence of Welsh noir ( Niall Griffiths, Malcolm Pryce, John Williams ) which continues to be popular and other major talents such as Lloyd jones, Rachel Trezise, Trezza Azzopardi and Owen Sheers have made their presence felt.

But what is Anglo-Welsh literature and why should anyone care? I would argue that at its best it provides a unique perspective (in the English speaking world at least) on modern ideas of national, cultural and personal identity. As Gwyn Williams once famously said:- “The Welsh as a people have lived by making and remaking themselves in generation after generation, usually against the odds, usually within a British context.” Both Welsh-language and Anglo-Welsh literature have played a prominent role in that process. It is not a literature of rage. At the risk of offending a portion of my audience I will say that English colonial rule has for the most part been far too benign to produce a violent reaction but it is a literature of self-assertion and defiance, albeit sometimes confused and unfocused.

These themes are explored in a number of fascinating works by contemporary Welsh writers. Owen Sheers’ magnificent debut novel ‘Resistance’ is set in an alternate universe in which the Nazis invade and conquer Britain in World war II. It focuses in large part on the struggle to reinvent oneself, adapt and survive in the face of extreme adversity.
The book ends with both protagonists facing a stark choice which is really no choice at all. In order to survive they must turn their backs on everything they have known and attempt to find personal salvation in a future that is as uncertain as it is dangerous.The novel hints at the special relationship which the Welsh people have with their landscape. The hills of Wales are indeed magnificent but they pale into insignificance, at least in topographical terms, when compared with the European Alps or the North American Cascades. Their special gravity and power lies in the fact that every nook and cranny, every fold and crevice, is invested with some human significance. The sum of history and legend which the landscape reveals is almost an externalization of Welsh identity itself. It is against this backdrop that Sarah, the heroine of this novel, must strive to uproot herself and accept the evolutionary challenge.

A far more extreme adaptation and ‘remaking’ (or failure to adapt) can be found in the pages of ‘Niall Griffiths’ stark and brutal novel..”Sheepshagger”. Here we see what happens when ancient tribal resentments, personal greivance and drug-addled inarticulacy combine to prevent ‘personal growth’. The desperate and bestial acts of violence committed by the novels anti-hero are the products of a sense of loss and a seething resentment directed against those who have deprived him. He is unable to articulate his impotent rage by any other means. He asserts himself as a serial-killer. It should be pointed out that this exploration of the darker side of the Welsh ‘psyche’, whilst magnificent, also contains passages of graphic violence which would make Brett Easton Ellis blush.

The fact that the Welsh are a naturally restless people and constantly searching for a lost identity or fashioning a new one is perhaps more happily exemplified in Lloyd Jones extraordinary “Mr Vogel”. This novel which is by turns baffling and inspiring recounts an epic journey around Wales made by a delusional alcoholic. To say that the narrative is not straightforward would be an understatement but what this novel lacks in simplicity it makes up for in many other ways. We are never quite sure what the nature of the quest is but the journey is perhaps its own justification. Toward the end of the book, when his epic perambulation is almost complete, Mr. Vogel finds himself in a mental hospital where he offers the following observation to one of his fellow patients:-

“When was Wales? Wales has never been, it has always been.” he rambled on to his next victim, Myrddin the schizophrenic, who fortunately) was asleep. “I’ll tell you something for nothing.” he said, “true Wales is never more than a field away, and true Wales is always a field away, like Rhiannons horse in the Mabinogi. Got it?”

Jones’ work is a tribute to the transformative and redemptive power of the imagination and its ability to refashion national, cultural and personal identity.

None of the above should be taken to suggest that Anglo-Welsh literature concerns itself solely with these themes or that other literary traditions neglect them. I would contend howver that owing to Wales unique history,a history in which its cultural identity has constantly been threatened with absorption by that of its much more powerful neighbour,they are much more acutely focused in the Anglo-Welsh literary tradition.

Books Referenced in the Text:

“When Was Wales” Gwyn Williams Penguin Books 1985
“Resistance” Owen Sheers Faber and Faber 2007
“Sheepshagger” Niall Griffiths Vintage 2002
“Mr. Vogel” Lloyd Jones Seren 2004

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Reading: it’s not for fun anymore

This is a nice article from Isaac Marion. Isaac has been running the online textual variety show, BurningBuilding.com, since 2003. He lives in Seattle, Washington, where he works various mundane jobs while trying to make his writing/music/art career take off.

Reading: it’s not for fun anymore

Recent studies have shown that across the board, in all mediums, Americans are reading for pleasure less than ever before. This isn’t just literature, novels, etc, this is all forms of the written word, including magazines, even the mighty Internet. Yes, that includes blogs. Less than one third of adults reported having read any literature in the past year not required for school or some other assignment.

Hmm.
Brlog…?
Brailg…?
Hmm.

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The Lost Sleeping Tablet

This is the beginning of the latest writing by Peter George Mackie. Please contact him if you want to know more about his works. The first chapter of his piece of travel writing “Flowers of Zagreb”
can also be downloaded at www.authorsonline.co.uk.

The Lost Sleeping Tablet

Dave was pondering over a map of the former Yugoslavia when he landed on Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, which he had visited in the summer of 1977 at the age of 20 and had made friends with so many 17-year-olds who were still listening to ’60s music.

Most of them had travelled to the West at some point and were very interested in what he had to say about places he had been to, such as Amsterdam and Copenhagen.

Having known people who had been to this country before, he was only mildly surprised to learn that the locals were able to travel in and out of and all around Yugoslavia at will and felt it to be a country which seemed to be moving forward and whose young inhabitants exhibited what he perceived as a unique friendliness and a liveliness which was quite unlike anything he had ever known before.

He also found that many of them were interested in literature and the arts and it was there that he met his first real love, Elidija, a music student, who was one year younger than himself. Although it was only a one-night stand, that evening when they had made love in her friend’s flat in one of the back streets of Zagreb would always stand out throughout his life as one of his most treasured memories - and he was also very glad that he had been able to satisfy her as she was a virgin at the time.

Dave then found himself transported to the summer of 1986 when he had visited Belgrade for the first time and had met a young art student somewhere in town. They had taken a look in the window of an art workshop where some local artists or students had seemingly hurriedly put an exhibition together and they both agreed that none of the exhibits were very good.

It was a roasting hot day and, when the young student reached the flat where he lived with his parents and sister, after a long walk in the scorching heat, he removed his shirt and shoes.

It was at this point that he introduced Dave to his sister, a good-looking young girl with long black hair, who knelt down in front of him, also in bare feet, and exclaimed, “Serbian girls are the best!!”

The young art student, whose name Dave had probably never learned, then explained that the room in which they were sitting was his and his sister’s bedroom.

It did not seem to Dave all that surprising that, in a poor area of a country like Yugoslavia, a teenage brother and sister would be sharing the same room, which must have also been the case in other countries, probably including Britain, in the past.

At that time, people were keen to emphasise that they were one country and, when Dave visited Sarajevo that same summer, he thought that it was the most beautiful and unusual city he had ever seen - and the last thing that would have occurred to him was that there would be a war there six years later. He was also disappointed that the spool for his camera had run out by this time so that he was unable to take any photographs.

His spirit at this point moved back to the map again where someone or something was trying to tell him that, in the future, the young people in Zagreb and Belgrade would be reconciled again but did not explain how this would be done… but it was found necessary to heal the town of Split, where the Dioclitain palace was falling down……

Dave was presently transported to the back garden in Scotland where he had played as a child in the 1960s.

In later life, he would realise how lucky he was to have heard all the music at that time, when it had first come out, as he considered that something special had happened then, which could only have occurred once in the whole of human history.

His mind moved on to when he was 12 years old, when he had had some very vivid and profound spiritual experiences which people around him at that time had confused with mental illness.

His father had had him incarcerated in a psychiatric hospital, where he was to spend two and a half years, and Dave would never to be able to forgive him for having destroyed him spiritually as well as having taken away two and a half years of his youth, which he would never get back, and, due to which, he would never be able to form steady relationships, his courtship with a young girl having been put a stop to by the hospital authorities.

Dave’s mother, on the other hand, was convinced that Dave, who was always the first in the class at Maths at school, was going to be a genius, but his education was neglected in the hospital and he would never be able to make much of his life…..

In fact, throughout his whole life, Dave’s father had never been able to accept the fact that he had ever grown up and would continue to play psychological games with him. For instance, only a few years before, when Dave was in his forties, his father, having lured him back to his house to see whether or not a certain magazine had arrived for him in the post, threatened to call the police because Dave had accidentally dropped a cup and saucer into the sink. This, in turn, brought back all the old traumas of what his father had done to him when he was younger, the memories of which he had been desparately trying to shake off…

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Creating games, a beautiful Art

Andrea Angiolino was born the 27th of April, 1966 in Rome, the city where he still lives. He published many boardgames and books about games, besides developing games for every media. His works appeared in more than a dozen of languages including Korean, Czech and Maltese. He is a game journalist on national magazines, newspapers, radio broadcasts The Italian School and Education Ministry named him “Expert game author”, while the Lucca Comics and Games show gave him the first “Best of Show” prize for lifetime achievements. More info are on his personal site. Here’s what he wrote for our Weblog, about creating games and about his career:

I am what it’s usually called in English a “game designer”, but I prefer “game author” instead. Essentially, I invent games: their rules, their settings, their mechanics.
I love this. It is both a sort of artistic activity and my full time job. Italy is not so a big market for authors of boardgames or role-playing games: so I do every other sort of games for work. It does not matter so much if they are boardgames, card games, role-playing games, tv games, computer games or gambling games for the Italian state: my role is to create them, and sometime to be their editor or translator. I also write articles and books about games: I am at the same time a creative, a historian and a critic. These roles help each other a lot, making me a far more conscious game designer and journalist. Anyway, apart from puzzles and word games (our traditional “enigmistica”) for magazines, the ones where I feel more “author” are boardgames, card games and role-playing games.
A game is a little world with a simplified set of laws, the rules, that its inhabitants, the players, learn and try to master. The author is the God of these worlds. There are abstract boardgames, like - let’s say - draughts, that are like a mathematical model of a little universe. Some of them are very simple. I like “steamlined” and effective games. One of my best-sellers is a book about paper-and-pencil games: very few rules, very simple materials and very intriguing tactics and strategies. Making a simple, original and intriguing game is a difficult exercise for an author: but together with some of our Renaissance artistic geniuses I think that the real art is in taking away, not in adding.
Anyway I prefer games with a setting, as chess, Monopoly or Clue. The stronger the atmosphere is, the more they look “literary” rather than “mathematical”. I am more used to designing boardgames that tell stories - I find them more involving than abstract games. ‘Madame Bovary, c’est moi,’ said Gustave Flaubert, and I could say ‘Lothar von Richthofen, it’s me!’ if I think to my games about the aces of the first world war. Several of my boardgames are actually just a different way rewriting the story of Ulysses or of telling dark stories of medieval struggles between rising feuds. “Obscura Tempora”, a card games of mine with this last setting, appeared with a short story about a viking raid on the rulebook, and that’s not by chance: the game and the story come from the same suggestions, share the same inspiration, tell the same tale in two different ways.
Sometimes my games are not novels but essays: I design games for teaching, advertising, promotion and such. The last one, “Fair Play”, has ben asked me by Pangea - Niente Troppo, an Italian fair trade organization: they wanted a game that could help to explain all the travel that the cotton does from a seed in a remote field to the T-shirt you are wearing, explaining how we could have have a less polluting and fairer process. In this case I start from the setting and even the message that the game has to bring to players. When I design a game for the fun of it, usually aimed to the generic market of players, I can do the same or just the opposite: I may think about a boardgame with a pawn moved by all the players, instead than one pawn each as in traditional games, and then wonder what - or who - that pawn can be. Maybe Odysseus in the hands of the Gods? Then other rules and detaiuls of the setting are a natural consequence of that choice. This is how the boardgame Ulysses was born.
In these years, there are two main styles in boardgame design. Oversimplifying, the German school has quite abstract games: original mechanics and linear rules with nothing useless. Even if they have a setting, as they often do, it is somehow “pasted on” the rules: There is no strict connection between the setting and the rule system. This is a logical and mathematical approach to game design. The opposite school, quite more “literary” and historical, is the so called American style: plenty of rules to give a detailed simulation of the subject of the game, often coming with plenty of miniatures and gadgets to thrill the kid in everyone of us. But I feel I am part of an “Italian style” instead: a simple frame of rules but strictly connected with the setting, so that everything you do in the game tends to give you the feeling to live in the simulated world. Being able to do that with a “steamlined” rulebook is actually the big challenge.
What I also love of boardgames is that they are a open creative process. Many players of my last card game “Wings of War” share new rules, new scenarios, new game materials all over the net. This help me and my co-author Pier Giorgio to develope new releases in the series. The fans also founded a web discussion group, to exchange opinions and additional stuff for this very game - it has just reached one thousand members. To my eyes this, in the end, is a measure of success greater than just the amount of copies sold or the number of foreign publishers that translated the game into their languages: when so many people decide that my game is their game and put their energies in it, it really means that my lonely work in front of my computer is worth the time spent on it.

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Time Travel

Peter Cajander allowed us to publish this part from his book Fragments of Reality. It talks about life from a personal perspective covering areas ranging from self-realization, meditation, stress, happiness, death, and everyday living. Peter is a writer, philosophical thinker, entrepreneur, strategy consultant, business executive, and author to name a few titles. He has been exploring and experiencing different ways of living and expanding his understanding. Peter has travelled extensively and so far lived in Finland, UK, France, and Spain.

Time Travel

It’s funny that we desire to travel through time. Besides self-
ish interest, what purpose would it serve? We are actually time
travelers all the time. Or should I say channel surfers?

We get carried away either by thinking about our past or
piling up with dreams of the future. These two activities take
most of our time. The actual now moment we are currently
experiencing is something we would rather not like to have.
It’s far better and safer to sail in our dreams, where all the out-
comes are already known and we can speculate with endless
what-if scenarios. The future is even better. For us it has not
happened yet and, therefore, we can make it up any way we
desire. Well, almost. The only limitation is that we cannot just
dream about anything of which we have no knowledge. For
example, in medieval times people did not dream about hav-
ing cars and flying around the world in airplanes. So dream-
ing is also quite boring. All the outcomes are predictable in
one way or another—like LEGO blocks that can only be set
up in a certain way based on their shapes.

Our channel surfing concerns the current living moment.
We seldom stay in the channel. We’d rather jump on and off
many times in a second. This happens by switching either to the
dream or the history channel. Reality TV is something we pre-
fer to consume as a recorded version, just to be on the safe side.

Still, all the action happens in the reality mode. We cannot
change our history and cannot predict the future. We have to
do all the things right now. The paradox is that the only
unpredictable (and therefore nonboring) moment is the fresh
now time, what we are all the time experiencing. And the best
part is that it’s interactive. We can take part in all the activities
and get involved. It’s amazing how many of us are not taking
up this opportunity. People would rather switch to old classics
or sci-fi stories that have predictable endings. They’d rather
opt for something that smells, tastes, and sounds like real life
but is not. Artificial life seems to be the best act in town.

Considering the low ratings for actually living in the
moment, it is amazing that people would even dream of time
traveling. What would they do then if they cannot live now?
Sure it’s a more interactive TV show to go for the future and
know that you are able to come back to the original time
whenever things start to get too serious (or should I say real?).
Time travel would be just another way of surfing channels—
just a sportier version compared to staring at a glass box or
daydreaming from the sofa.

Nevertheless, the basic fact is that we always figure out
new ways to escape reality. We’d rather either skip to our own
natural channels or use the manmade “entertainment”
options. When was the last time you really watched some-
thing on the TV or listened to the radio? Most of the time, we
are desperate to fill up any silent moments by whatever back-
ground noise from TV, radio, or MP3 players we can find.
Still, the fact is that you cannot avoid living in the moment—
you can only pretend you’re not there. How good our skills are
determine how good our private scam is. Our consciousness is
always on, and it is permanently stuck on the reality channel.
And most of us just cannot live without constantly surfing
channels. Restless 24/7 escape from the reality—out now!

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