U of T community plans relief event for Japan (Article)

Well, this was a pain in the ass. What should’ve been an easy and straightforward news piece about student/campus charity initiatives for Japan turned into a massive hassle because apparently very few people yet care enough to mobilize their humanitarian efforts.

Oh sure, any other natural disaster can afflict any other country, and U of T students will shout their support from the rooftops. Japan? All I could find at first was some minor event hosted by the JCSA (Japan-Canada Student Association) with nobody involved willing to respond to my calls and emails. Hell, the only reason I even decided to take this article was because a media relations officer at www.NoteSolution.com guilted me into it after hounding me on Google Talk, and even then all I could be bothered to do was suffix a trite blurb about what they’re doing at the very end.

Up until 4PM on Wednesday, I had absolutely nothing for this article. Don’t mistake me, it’s a terribly easy thing to find things to say about Japan these days (“Japan is a big boy country that can take care of itself – it doesn’t need our pity,” or “the Japanese people are proof of concept that xenophobia is better than diversity,” or “I wonder how many times faster Japan will recover from the earthquake than New Orleans after Katrina?”). But the point of this article is to tie it to the U of T community, not reiterate for the umpteenth billionth time the sensationalist gibberish of catastrophe sprouted by every other news outlet on the planet.

Fortunately, one of my contacts at U of T Media Relations stumbled upon news that OISE had something fairly substantial in the works. In fact what they had planned was, at that point, so new that the newspaper would end up being the first to announce it. I called the event coordinator – the supremely helpful David Goldberg – at 4:15, and an hour later I had tonnes of material to work with. Once I was able to sit down and begin work on this after class at about 9:00, everything seemed to take care of itself.

I suppose it just goes to show that things tend to work themselves out no matter how dire the situation, which coincidentally is exactly what I’m hoping for with Intermediate Greek II… Wait, that’s a terrible thing to rely on and an even worse moral… I really shouldn’t  be writing after being awake for 19 hours on just 4 hours of sleep.

U of T community plans relief event for Japan

Last Friday’s earthquake in Japan has wiped out entire communities, left thousands of people dead, millions without power or water, and caused countless billions of dollars in damages. Given the scale of the disaster and the inspiring outpouring of aid and prayer for the stricken nation, members of the university community are stepping up to bring relief to the region.

Leading the charge is the Japanese Earthquake and Tsunami Relief Effort led by students from OISE (Ontario Institute for Studies in Education) and GSA (Graduate Students Association). Event coordinators met for the first time on the morning of Tuesday, March 15, and have slated the event for 7PM Thursday March 31 at Woodsworth College’s Kruger Auditorium. The event is open to everyone and all proceeds will go to the Canadian Red Cross and an associated charity dedicated to education for displaced children in Japan.

“The events over the last few days in Japan have been devastating. Loved ones are missing, and there are struggles to get even basic emergency supplies to stricken areas,” says David Goldberg, event coordinator and PhD Candidate at the the Department of Curriculum, Teaching, and Learning at OISE. “Regardless of our occupations, we wanted to unite our efforts to stage an event with one goal: to raise as much money as possible to donate to the Red Cross, one of the relief agencies approved by the Japanese government.”

A spokesperson from the Red Cross will be in attendance at the event to update the audience about how the relief efforts are proceeding. Jeff Myers, president of the GSA, and Josephine Mullally, Acting Dean of Students at Woodsworth College, will also be in attendance, both of whom have spent considerable time in Japan and will have prepared a visual presentation of the devastated areas.

“As educators, we thought it important to bring speakers to our event who can speak with knowledge about the relief efforts on the ground,” says Goldberg. “We are pleased that the Red Cross has agreed to speak at our event, and are awaiting word from other leaders in the Japanese community.”

In addition to the presentations of various guest speakers who are either actively involved with on site relief in Japan or share special ties with its afflicted communities (Mullally lived and worked in Miyagi Province for three years, one of the heavily damaged areas), there are arrangements for a silent auction, the proceeds of which will go directly to Red Cross. Various Japanese musical artists are also being invited to stage a performance.

In the meantime, the Canadian Red Cross is actively encouraging any and all donations for relief in Japan. And if you can’t chip in a few bucks, chip in a few documents to the U of T note exchange website www.NoteSolution.com, who will match every contribution made until this Saturday with $0.25 to Red Cross on your behalf.

Gravity Bone

Play Gravity Bone. It’s free, it’s about 10 minutes long, and it’s the single most exceptional game I have played in a long time (and this is after Super Meat Boy and VVVVVV no less, so truly that must say something).

Click here to download it. Next week, if I’m able to set aside some time, I’ll do a proper write up of it. Unfortunately, Gravity Bone is the sort of game which is impossible to discuss meaningfully without spoiling the experience, so I really do encourage everyone to play it. Not just to preserve the integrity of my write up which should try to preserve the integrity of the game, but because it is a truly special and unique one-of-a-kind game that everyone should experience.

Should the TTC be declared an essential service? (Editorial)

Against my better judgement, I’ve spent time writing an article for this week’s issue. Sure, it only took me an hour, but that’s still an hour which could’ve been better spent flipping through an Ancient Greek dictionary trying to make sense of Euripides.

Anyway, for our weekly debate we settled on whether or not the TTC should be an essential service, since that’s this week’s hot topic thanks to all the bickering between mayor Rob Ford, the TTC itself, and various labour leaders and unions. Keep in mind that I didn’t choose my side of the argument so much as I was saddled with it because the person who was supposed to write it decided he couldn’t be bothered. So I, being the wonderful person that I am, picked up the slack.

Initially, I thought it would be a difficult task. But once I figured out what my ultimate conclusion should be (the need of the city outweighing the need of a small fraction of its operators), it pretty much wrote itself. For an hour’s work, I don’t think it turned out half bad.

While I won’t reproduce my counterpart’s argument here, keep in mind that you can easily view it in one of three ways:

  • On the newspaper website (click here)
  • As a PDF on the newspaper website’s front page (click here)
  • As a PDF on my website’s sidebar

Yes, I’ve decided to add a PDF version of the newspaper to the sidebar. Partly because its posting will guarantee at least one weekly update (even if I don’t actually contribute anything to it), mostly because I’ve decided that I’ll just pay the damn hosting fees for the next three years and I’m eager to get my money’s worth this time.

Oh, and one last thing: you may have noticed that I’m being credited as Andrew Walt and not Andrew Gyorkos these days. While there’s an amusing little anecdote to explain this, the short version is that I’ve always like my mother’s name more than my father’s, so I’ve decided to make a change.

Anything to keep the trains on time

There are things in life which are essential. You need food to eat, water to drink, and a roof over your head. The same applies to a city. You need hospitals to keep people healthy, police to keep people safe, and firemen to make sure it all doesn’t go up in flames.

Yet when it comes to public transit, for whatever reason, a general sense of necessity doesn’t seem to be held. Even though hundreds of thousands of people use the TTC on a daily basis, its status as an essential civic service remains a point of debate. Why?

Perhaps it’s because people view the TTC as being an unpleasant convenience. After all, its operators are hardly the most pleasant paragons of humanity, and its passenger base rarely seems to be much better. The vehicles themselves are often overstuffed and under kept, and exactly when the next bus or streetcar is due to show up is anyone’s guess.

Yes, the TTC can hardly be said to make the Monday morning commute a magical experience, yet for many of us (myself included), there wouldn’t be a reliable commute without it. Toronto is a city of millions, every single one of them with places to go and people to see. Without a network of trams and trains to ferry them from one end of the city to the other and back again, what would they do without it?

Walk? From the suburbs to the downtown core?

Bike? Freeze to death in the winter and get heat stroke in the summer?

Drive? Give those green freaks more munition while stagnating in impossible traffic?

For many, the TTC is more than just “the better way;” it’s the only way. Flawed though it may be, it’s what Toronto as a vibrant city has grown to rely on more than any other means of transportation.

Why is the necessity of public transportation even a question? Because of the administrative ethics surrounding the right for disgruntled employees to strike and force reformation without fear of losing their livelihoods? Then what about the rights of the millions who depend on the service for their own well being? The need of the city must be considered worth more than the need of those who keep the trains on their tracks.

As if we would even need to worry about this with the TTC declared an essential service, as it rightly should be. The everyman wakes up confident in knowing that he’ll have a train to work, and the operator of that very train is secure in knowing he has a steady job and a stable source of income. And this is a bad thing because no one has to worry about the threat of a strike ever again? The counter argument makes it sound as if the TTC is a totalitarian regime waiting to happen…

I suppose it boils to what you believe is worse: a city at the mercy of transit workers, or transit workers themselves at the mercy of their administration?

Personally, I’m in favour of what guarantees I get to class on time.

VVVVVV

VVVVVV

There’s no gaming experience quite like that of a good 2D platformer. Unfortunately, mainstream offerings of this particular genre these days seem to be squarely focused on the Metroid-Vania trend of fussy micromanaged exploration. And while I love a good romp through Dracula’s castle as much as the next guy, sometimes you just have to look beyond the familiar and seek out something new. And since the big boys still platform like it’s somewhere between 1994 and 1997, it’s up to bedroom coders to show us the way. Thus, fresh from toying with time in Braid and having my masculinity questioned by Super Meat Boy, I come across the mysterious VVVVVV, a 2D adventure about a crew lost in space and Captain Veridian’s quest to rescue them.

Rather befitting a space based platformer, the central mechanic off VVVVVV (and indeed its only mechanic if you disqualify moving left and right) is the ability to alter the direction of gravity at the press of a button in lieu of the more traditional jumping oriented abilities. If you comes across a bit of spiky floor, pass it by walking along the roof instead. And in situations where the distances between ground and ceiling are rather expansive, your character falls or rises until they either meet a surface or succumb to an obstacle. VVVVVV takes a unique approach to platforming by making its world as functional upside down as right side up. Thus, simply wrapping your head around its single idea takes a fair bit of getting used to, and it becomes even trickier as you encounter its distinct sets of challenges the further along you go.

VVVVVV is difficult, make no mistake about it. But the difficulty stems largely from movement mechanics that are not quite as finely tuned as say, Super Meat Boy. Precision platformers live or die but how razor sharply the game registers and responds to the player’s movements, and Captain Viridian simply isn’t as precise as often requires. There’s no sense of gravity or weight to the character, and he feels terribly floaty at times (which I suppose is appropriate for a game which takes place in presumably low gravity environments). Contrast this with Meat Boy for example, and Captain Viridian’s deficiency becomes terribly apparent. The very instant you tell Meat Boy to stop running, he comes to a dead stop. Give Captain Viridian the same instructions, and he’ll coast on a few more steps past the cliff’s edge and into spike traps or lethal obstacles. VVVVVV‘s loose gameplay has a great deal in common with tipsy Sack Boy from Little Big Planet, which for me was a deal breaker that no amount of charming artistic design could repair.

Thankfully, VVVVVV is smart enough to recognize its difficulty which would be punishing even for those who cut their teeth on old school masochistic platformers such as myself. Checkpoints marked by tiny glass domes enshrining a “C” are liberally sprinkled throughout the game world, which means that any death causes a loss of no more than a few seconds between where you died and where you respawn (and yes, respawn is instantaneous). However because the placement and frequency of checkpoints can seem illogical, either being too scarce in tricky spots or too liberal in cakewalks, the amount of frustration one experiences could fluctuate wildly.

Yet while there’s no real issue with dotting checkpoints around VVVVVV‘s open world, how the lay of the land is conveyed does cause an issue or two. Chief among which is that it’s not a side-scroller in the vain of the 2D Castlevania‘s and Donkey Kong‘s; only one tile of this 2D grid based open world is shown to the player at a time. This means, for example, that when you reach the right most end of the screen, the camera doesn’t follow the player’s movements, but rather the adjacent tile is shown and you end up on the left end of the screen. Although this can be especially disorienting when you’re falling through areas and entering scenes on diagonals, a particular section toys with this idea rather well enabling the player to recognize that such a presentation was indeed deliberate, conscious, and ultimately ingenious.

Don’t expect to be able to wrap around your head around the story and aesthetics, however: something separates Captain Viridian from his shipmates, so you spend the game scouring the overworld recovering them one by one. Text logs and monitors pop up every now and then talking about space, time, and other popular science fiction malarkey, but it’s entirely extraneous. As for the art, solids and crosshatches account for the various landscapes which change colour from one tile to the next, giving the impression that you’re travelling through a rainbow ribbon of space. The bright and cheerful colours make the environment a joy to traverse, as do the strong chip tune melodies and rhythms which flicker either inspiring exploration or establishing ambiance. Even failure is made charming by Captain Viridian’s interpretively emphatic “Oh no!,” his flipped smile, and the most delightful little soundbyte; it’s just all so very fanciful and cheery.

“Clever” would be the best word to sum up VVVVVV. It’s a simple open world 2D platformer that explores every aspect of its primary gameplay mechanic and constantly tests both its players and the limits of its application. In fact it’s so brilliant that it even crams in the dreaded escort mission and somehow twists it into a mind-bending blast, something no proper console game I can think of has ever done. It’s colourful, enthusiastic, peppy, and leaves me with a smile even as I grit my teeth in frustration. Surely that’s quite the accomplishment, and surely that’s worth $5.

VVVVVV is available for download through Steam for $5. In case you’re wondering, VVVVVV is an acronym of the names of you and the five other crew members of your ship. Yes, you are supposed to pronounce the title as you would pronounce the letter “V” six times quickly.

“Oh no!”

Just a heads up that my hosting package for this site expires in about three or four weeks, and I haven’t really decided whether or not I’m interested in renewing it yet. When it expires, I’m not entirely sure what will happen, so I’m not entirely sure what it all means in the grand scheme of things.

In all honesty, I’m not too sure if I’ll renew it. I haven’t really been doing anything substantial with it since… well… ever, if I’m honest, and thus I have a hard time justifying the money I’ll have to pay up front to keep it afloat for however much longer.

I’m not sure, so we’ll see what happens. In the mean time, enjoy the screen cap from VVVVVV which offers a fairly accurate description of my state of mind at the moment: confused, panicked, optimistic, in front of various screens in a bizarrely decorated room (the newspaper office)  and listening to some kick ass music that no one else can hear but me.

Incidentally, VVVVVV is excellent fun. Go spend $5 on Steam and play the damn thing.