Execution vs Conception

I love having ideas. Ideas are fun, manipulable, infinitely complex or simple. They don’t take any work to think about, expand in breadth and depth. It doesn’t take effort to plan execution. Much like calculus, the manipulation of abstract possibilities is fun and easy. Once it gets to the actual computation and execution, though, the process becomes less fun.

This is why I experiment with so many engines and SDKs, and why I draw and write much more than I model and map. It is enough to know that I have the skills to do (or figure out how to do) what I want to do. If carrying through and actual doing the boring grunt work isn’t fun, why should I do it? That said, having a final product is the most satisfying thing in the world. When an external motivator hits the project, like money or responsibility or grades, I am motivated to work through the grunt work. Then I get to stand on the other side and beam at my beautiful realization of an idea.

Carrying this through to its logical extreme, I feel like the best way to force myself to produce a final product in the real world is to throw myself headfirst into the deep waters. If I make game creation my livelihood (and preferably a few other persons’s too), a final product will emerge in due time. If I keep it as my hobby, my ideas will never get off the ground floor — at most I will get some proof of concepts, or a half-completed level.

Obsessive Rationalization of Unrealistic Genres

I am constantly amazed and disappointed by people’s perpetual insistence on willful ignorance and disregard of logic. It is common to tout that people are able to “distinguish reality from fiction”, but I am finding that hard to believe. This ailment is especially prevalent in fans or supporters of a particular lore; enjoyment of a genre appears to be a debilitating disease that leaves its victims completely incapable of making concessions to critics.

Let’s examine two examples. First, zombie lore. The genre is wide and diverse, but is generally accepted to be a gross fabrication and completely improbable, right? Nope. There is a fixation on coming up with more and more “realistic” explanations of how a zombie apocalypse could “actually” come to be. This is true both in media — we see the introduction of terms like “infected” to make the scenarios seem more authentic — and in the fan culture surrounding it. Look at any article on the Internet pointing out the most obvious reasons that a zombie apocalypse would never arise, and you will see a flood of comments defending the feasibility of such a scenario. Do they think that pointing out the unrealism of the genre is somehow offensive? That explicitly distinguishing reality from fiction (in a genre that is constantly trying to move the latter towards the former) somehow invalidates the fiction? It boggles my mind that people feel the need to defend the feasibility of a clearly fictional and improbable scenario.

But this feeling of wonder is only compounded whenever I accidentally wander near Star Wars or Star Trek fans. Both these franchises are clearly future fantasy (where technology serves only to further the plot, as opposed to hard science fiction, where there is a clear bi-directional interplay between the two). Yet many fan sites are created to help flush out the technological lore and attempt to apply rational, scientific explanations to the events in the media that are clearly only in service to the plot. If you point this out to a fan, they will become indignant and start explaining their way around any obstacle you toss at them. Never mind that the whole thing is fictional and doesn’t actually need to be scientifically accurate in order to be entertaining (and in fact was never intended to be scientifically accurate). This madness continues to the degree that later productions in the franchise may even try to explain some of the happening with science, but 9 times out a 10 this only bungles things up further.

Anyways, I wish die-hard fans would accept that they are fans of a fictional entertainment franchise that not only isn’t realistic or feasible, but in fact doesn’t need to be in order to be entertaining. Being unrealistic does not invalidate zombies or Star Trek or Star Wars in any way. So get over the fact that none of those franchises make any damn sense.

Into the Unknown: UDK Part 4

I’ve finally reached that breaking point where I am comfortable with the Unreal Engine. I may not have knowledge of every aspect, but I am finally understanding the basic axioms driving the inner workings, which allows me to intuitively understand where to look when I am stumped. The unfixable problems are falling away as my problem-solving abilities increase with respect to the environment. When you are utterly clueless about the engine, it can be difficult to know what kind of help to look for.

So in the past few weeks I began working on the project again. This time, I would build up an easy, lightweight framework from the UDK (rather than UT) packages — that is, I started out with much less pre-built functionality so that I could understand everything that was going on.

I succeeded. So far I’ve built a basic Pawn framework (Pawns are objects controlled by players or AI) with a custom crouch system and an Inventory Manager that better suits my needs. I’m also working on a Weapon system, although I haven’t implemented sounds, particle effects, etc. My HUD system is minimal, but so far that is all I need.

When I need to, I go to the UT packages and look at their implementations. However, the number of times I’ve copied and cut down code has decreased dramatically. Now I can write my own code with confidence that it does everything I want it to (note that although I am perfectly comfortable coding, it is more about knowing which function calls go where in the logic chain, and what to reference).

Note that I don’t have grenades, vehicles, sounds, shields, AI, other characters, or environments yet. However, I’m more comfortable having a small, solid base of functionality that I completely understand, rather than a thin spread of half-implemented, opaque features. Down one road lies abandonment, down the other lies slow but steady plodding to completion.

Interstellar Colonization Will Never Happen

There really isn’t an economical explanation for why a civilization would engage in long-range interstellar colonization.

To begin with, though, let’s look at interplanetary colonization. Why, for example, would someone fund the establishment of a permanent colony on Mars with the intent for it to become eventually self-sustaining? It’s not to relieve population pressure. Stuff is so ridiculously expensive to get into space that you’d be better off (from a monetary perspective) paying the people to live in the Sahara. It’s not for resources; asteroid mining is almost certainly a feasible economic opportunity, but the cost of lifting resources into orbit is again the obvious barring factor. It could be scientific, but scientific missions wouldn’t need to be self-sustaining or long-term. Perhaps a stint of 20 years on the surface. It could be done by a separatist group (plenty of people want to go start small settlements in the wilderness), but even if the money was raised (which is unlikely), the colony will lie on the fringes of human society. They would probably be unable to arrange a return trip, even if they wanted to, and nobody else (except more fringe groups) would want to continue colonization.

There is one argument that seems reasonable: outposts could serve as refueling stations for outbound craft (asteroid mining operations, etc). However, it would make more sense to pull these resources from asteroids and place an automated fuel refinery in high orbit around Mars (or other suitable candidate).

Many of the reasons listed above carry over to interstellar missions. The only difference is that groups would have much more trouble raising money for the mission, and that now lifting stuff into orbit isn’t the only tough part, but also accelerating your spaceship to a speed which makes for a bearable trip length.

Here are some scenarios where we do send a colonizing mission: we discover evidence of alien life, or the ruins of an alien civilization. It would only make sense to send a colonizing mission. Sending a scientific detachment with a planned return trip would be so expensive that it wouldn’t be worth it. I mean, it would be worth it, but nobody would be able to raise the funds.

Another scenario in which most of the above arguments go out the window: we build a space elevator. That removes the gateway for getting into orbit. We could expect many more people accessing and living in orbit (because they feel like it and the price is low enough). Once the population already flying around the solar system reaches a critical mass, colonizing Mars becomes a trivial step.


Actually, it came to me after I wrote this post that there may be one reasonable explanation for colonizing Mars: if we fail to find an economical way to increase biomass production either on Earth or in space, we will need large tracts of arable land. Terraforming Mars would provide this. However, the cost of lifting and storing that biomass may make it less preferable to aerocultures in orbit.

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