Lots of Monkeys

I’ve really been into painting the edges of cardboard tokens and bits and pieces. It’s calming, and the table presence is subtly enhanced.

I walk into the room slowly after checking the news. My wife is still asleep. I’ve been up early due to the time change, my body still thinks that it is five in the morning.

The room is dark but I know it, I know the feel of the runner on the floor beneath my feet, I know the sound of the the air filter softly issuing white noise.

She stirs, but only a little as I find a place to put my face below her neck. I put an arm around her and hug her as hard as I can.

I close my eyes. I try to remember that this is what’s important, that this is the human experience.

I take a deep breath to still myself, to feel everything, to be here.

I hope.

Filemon ten years ago was a very different person.

True facts, I traveled all the way down the blue line to King Street to do Groceries like this.

One Sentence Quick Take: This PC title is a city builder with an impressive number of genres that the developer has melded together into something that I find both fascinating and engaging.

Additionally, this title has one of the most woe inducing because it is so on point things that I have seen in a game.

A lot of genres depend on income generation, creating some form of money. In Industries of Titan, that is <Credits>

This game presented early game income generation by a worker citizen walking to a Monetization station with screens that, according to the in game description, generated credits by showing ads to workers.

Generates <Credits> quickly by hiring idle <Human Population> to watch ads.

Monetization Station Devices Wiki, Industries of Titan

The workstation itself is a bleak, a cramped area that I optimally place closer to the sleeping areas in order to maximize efficiency. It gets worse! Or—better?

This is the only way to generate credits, the game’s resource that has value through the shared delusion it has value. Actual physical labor only provides you with ever increasingly scarce raw materials.

//  "Ridiculous!" he said, sitting in a dedicated work area of his home with three monitors, three screens, three applications running, and two browsers with 16 tabs.

I stand off to the side, watching James work. He is patient, and even behind the mask I know he smiles. He smiles because it’s clear that he loves what he does. The whole time he talks, about fit, about break, about materials, about the fact that once you add alterations to something off the rack you might as well have gotten something bespoke.

I’ve already had my fitting and I’m beaming. I put my hands in the pants pockets and there are phone sized inner pockets in both sides. James even threw in a shirt for me, the hem cut short in that incredibly trendy new untucked length.

I take a quick selfie to send to my partner.

I look over to the future groom. A barrage of questions.

“How’s the fit? Hands to your sides please, fingers in a gentle curl. Great. How do you feel? Can you step here to the mirror to check yourself out? Awesome. Pockets? Turn a little bit? Okay turn around and take a step back and then look at yourself in the mirror.”

This is a whole new man in front of me. James and I watch the groom, and he sees himself for the first time in his suit.

For a moment I imagine that this is what my Dad felt like.

// No you're crying!