Death, Tetris, and Spindizzy : The Eternal Black Shroud.
Apart from being a fine game, Tetris is also a perfect mirror of the human condition. For a while the game is entertaining, and we seem to have mastered it and are having fun. Then, something goes wrong. A rash mistake, or an unfulfilled wish, and we're fighting to repair the damage, but we've been thrown off-balance, and the cancer is spreading. Blocks that were once orderly and harmonious are jumbled and filled with holes, and our cup is on the verge of running over. There's always a point at which we stop planning for the future, and realise that we don't have one - all we can do is cling to the present and concentrate, focus our minds on what it's like to be alive, to play the game, before it's all over and we can't think any more. Eventually we stare death in the face, and death will not spare us because we would warn the others, and deny them the chance to face death themselves. Sometimes we resist to the bitter end, moving blocks left and right without thought or care, just to hang on, and sometimes we accept the inevitable and pull the blocks down to us, smiling inwardly at the great joke. The only way to win is not to play.
Another game from another era had a similar message. Spindizzy. Superficially, a clone of Marble Madness; in reality, a primer in modern philosophy. Whilst there is more to life than negotiating ramps, slippery ice and white squares that make you bounce, Spindizzy rewards interpretation. Of particular interest are the sensations elicited towards the conclusion of the game, when time is finally running down, and there is no longer any hope. As with Tetris and real life, games of Spindizzy tend to trundle along quite happily until you suddenly realise that you're about to run out of time, and although you fight the inevitable the end result is the same. You have lost. You didn't know why. One moment, the game was one of hopeful exploration - the next, it was one of desperation, of temporary, minor victories in larger pattern of defeat and disaster.
In Tetris the mistake is often obvious in hindsight. Maybe you were waiting for a 4x1 block that never came, or your concentration lapsed for a moment, you made a mistake, and the blow to your self-confidence was such that you continued to make mistakes as you sought to make things better. Spindizzy is subtler than that. The most obvious difference is that there is a progression - the game has a beginning and, supposedly, an end. At the beginning of the game, life seems to have no limits. You can do what you want, be a fireman, an astronaut, a racing-car driver, and all within the space of one lifetime. You have five score and seven seconds. There is a large, unexplored playing area in isometric projection, filled with time-giving crystals, and each new screen adds a few extra seconds to your total. If you can avoid falling through the floor too often, you can survive by reaching new screens, new horizons - an easy enough task, at first.
"If you can avoid falling through the floor too often, you can survive"
Eventually, though, you realise that you have exhausted the ready supply of unknown territory. A glance at the clock reveals that you haven't actually gained any time, as the increasing complexity of the landscape has slowed your exploration. You're slightly closer to finishing the game, but if at any point you have to retrace your steps there will be no help from outside, from your parents, from society. You'll be on your own, trudging forlornly through ground you have already covered, the thrill and material rewards of your work insufficient to keep you afloat. So you press on, but the pressure increases. You find yourself trapped in a walled enclosure. You can no longer explore, and the few crystals that might increase your remaining time are beyond your reach. You have to work at it. Put some effort into it. The easy days are gone. And you can't be an astronaut any more.
It's at this point that lesser minds might argue that the winners are separated from the losers. The wise man sees that there are no winners in Spindizzy, as in life. Everybody loses. It's just a question of whether you view things in isolation, or from the perspective of distance. When faced with a sudden downturn in fortunes, society applauds those who attempt to manipulate switches and negotiate complex, multi-screen jumps, but the applause is tempered and heightened by the knowledge that, although the player may only be dimly aware of it, failure looms close. The high-wire artist thrills us in a way that a mime does not, and even the greatest of thrills, the most intense orgasm, is transient. The latest James Bond film may have been a huge hit, and Bond himself has survived to entertain us for another two hours, but eventually the producers, the creators or the public will grow weary and look elsewhere, and even James Bond himself will eventually succumb to old age.
The things we love the most are those that fade quickest, or, as with diamonds or landscapes, remain for such an inhuman amount of time that they seem to insult us, outlasting us without ever knowing or caring that we were there to be impressed by them. Death comes for us all in the end. Resistance is delusional when viewed from within, and heartbreakingly sad when viewed from without. We admire the fox as it escapes from the hounds, but when the hunt is over we turn away, and go off and drink and be merry, and somewhere else someone or something is watching us as we watch the fox. But the fox knows it is being chased. We do not.

Dating In Hong Kong On FirstClickFriend.Com Offers Online Dating Services And Online Personals For All Regions In Hong Kong. Dating In Hong Kong Can Be Really Successful Ith FirstClickFriend.Com

"An inhuman amount of time"
   
VX-Labs™ News