Gorgar Reflects

I admit: one of my first notes to myself from the first day of class was “How can I make pinball my final project?” It felt a bit unserious at the time, but I’m so glad I gave myself that as one of my lenses for assess the digital projects in the syllabus each week. When we learned about The River Poem, I wondered if I could write text that would flow across the page to mimic the experience of playing pinball. I wasn’t sure I had the coding chops for that kind of undertaking. Then the image maps of The Pines at Walden Pond by Deena Larsen and Wunderkammer by Shelley Jackson came up in back to back weeks, the coding for which felt much more achievable to me.

An image map with associated text, I could do that. But which table would I pick? I knew I wanted to pick a table that I could spend a lot of time playing, entirely in the pursuit of this project of course! And I knew I wanted to incorporate the sound from the table. Most pinball I play is in a loud bar, so there’s too much background noise to listen to the table, and it can get expensive pretty quickly. I’m very fortunate because the captain of my pinball team has a collection of tables in his basement. And as luck would have it, he had the perfect table to inspire me: Gorgar, the first pinball table with a speech module.

The premise of the game is relatively simple: you are a barbarian warrior who must defeat the big and simply evil Gorgar, a giant red demon who has taken your woman from you and has her trapped in his volcanic lair that is apparently filled with snakes. Gorgar only speaks seven words (Gorgar, speaks, beat, you, me, hurt, got), which are combined into eight possible phrases. They are simple, for example, “Me hurt,” but does that mean Gorgar is simple? How might he communicate if he had a full and robust language toolkit to aid him?

Inspired by my love of erasure and found poetry, and the work by Kenneth Goldsmith of repurposing of existing text to write poetry, I wanted to incorporate text from the Gorgar Instruction Booklet (the owner’s manual and official rules of play). I went back and forth on how to incorporate this. Could I use just the text from the manual to give Gorgar more speech? Or would I use it as a jumping off point and mix it in with my original writing?

Jeff, your feedback on trying to incorporate procedural rhetoric to think about the prison house of language was immensely helpful, and I think it pushed my project from some fun little thought experiment into something I’m quite proud of. It’s very common on pinball tables for a repeated shot to increase in value. On the Gorgar table specifically, there are many shots that increase in value when you hit them as a set of three: the G-O-R and G-A-R, each a set of three drop targets; the three A-B-C rollover lanes at the top of the playfield; the increasing values of the eject scoop on the left; and the 2-3-4 ADV targets across the playfield on the right. So the procedure I use mimics hitting a shot on the table in triplicate.

As Gorgar has eight phrases, I used those as the starting point. I tried to locate those phrases on my image map to roughly where the shot is that triggers the speech mechanism, or else where on the table thematically or visually it made the most sense to me. When you click on a silver circle (representing the silver pinball), you see and hear what Gorgar says. You could just keep clicking around and hitting new shots from the image map, or there’s a button below the text giving you the option to hit the same shot again. When you hit the shot a second time, you have the found poems I cut and pasted together from the instruction manual. Gorgar has more speech, but it’s still limited to the speech used by his creators. Another button appears, and you can hit the same shot a third time, and then you read the speech that I found myself wanting to give Gorgar. I used a different font for each of these to help visually reinforce the change that was taking place in Gorgar’s speech. In this way, I think I’ve combined a bit of Ian Bogost’s verbal, visual, and procedural rhetoric. The sound effects are mostly for fun; I wanted you to hear what Gorgar sounds like, as well as try and replicate the beating heart background sound that speeds up the longer you play. I do think the increasing pace of the heartbeat lends itself to the urgency with which I want to expand Gorgar’s speech, so perhaps there is aural rhetoric at play too.

In terms of the inspiration for my own writing, I turned to the artwork on the table to guide me. Gorgar can speak, and it’s assumed you are the male warrior, but who is this plot device of a female character? Only Gorgar has speech baked into the table, and you as the player could presumably give the barbarian speech, which leaves her utterly silent and sidelined. I don’t even think you ever see her face except in profile (she’s seemingly lifeless in the main design on the back glass, and on the playfield she’s standing more or less in profile view.

Close up view of the bottom of the Gorgar playfield showing the barbarian and woman above the flippers

The design choice to put an image of the barbarian on the drop targets that spell Gorgar’s name was also incredibly fascinated to me and seemed to inextricably tie the two of them together.

Close up view of G-O-R drop targets showing barbarian character's image on them

Also, there are many different scenes from the battle depicted across the table. Are they all from this one fight? There are demonic and human skeletal remains scattered across the art; are Gorgar and the barbarian continuing a battle started by their ancestors? Or are all possible timelines from their fight being shown a top one another?

Close up view of barbarian character running away giant snake and past multiple skeletons

Lastly, as much as you are trying to slow the game down and aim for certain shots and create a sense of order, the pinball table wants you to go fast and craves chaos. I tried to replicate this delirious, perhaps ilinx-inducing, experience through the many inter-hyperlinked passages for every shot.

I hope you enjoy playing Gorgar Speaks: A Literary Pinball Adventure! as much as I enjoyed creating it.

Note: The main playfield image used for the image map was provided by Robert Gonyo, my team captain, without whom this project would not have been possible. The rest of the images and audio files were captured by me.

Gorgar Speaks!: A Literary Pinball Adventure

In 1979, Williams, a former leading pinball manufacturer, released the first pinball table to speak: Gorgar. It marked a major milestone in pinball, and game technology in general. The premise of the game is that you are a big, burly barbarian (think He-Man) fighting your way into the lair of a demon named Gorgar who has kidnapped your preposterously proportioned and barely bikinied lover.

To defeat Gorgar, you have to hit various targets and spinners, and based on which of these shots you hit, you trigger Gorgar’s speech mechanism. His vocabulary comprises seven words: Gorgar, speaks, beat, you, me, hurt, got. These are combined into the following possible phrases:

  • Gorgar speaks.
  • Me hurt.
  • Me got you.
  • Gorgar.
  • You hurt Gorgar.
  • You beat me.
  • You beat Gorgar.
  • Me Gorgar, beat me.

Inspired by The Pines at Walden Pond by Deena Larsen and Wunderkammer by Shelley Jackson, I will create an image map (using HTML and JavaScript) of the pinball table’s playfield. I will create “playable” (clickable) areas on the image map that are tied to poems. The poems will also be hyperlinked between one another. Even though I know Gorgar has been designed as my adversary, I can’t help but find him sympathetic. In the artwork on the backglass, you see a skull shaped the same as Gorgar’s head—could this be a relative (his mother or his lover)? Or is this an image of his fate, with all possible future timelines collapsing into one static depiction? Gorgar is the first pinball adversary capable of speech, so what burden does that necessarily bestow upon him? He was only given seven words, but what else would he say if he could?

Inspired by Kenneth Goldsmith and his repurposing of existing text to write poetry, I aim to write these poems from the words that appear in the Gorgar Instruction Booklet (the owner’s manual and official rules of play), through a combination of erasure and manual reordering of the existing copy. I hope this approach to writing each passage and presentation of interlinked text will capture some of the chaotic (and fun!) experience of playing the pinball table.

Another signature feature of the Gorgar table is its heartbeat. Once you start a game, a heartbeat sound starts, and the longer you keep your ball in play, the faster the heartbeat gets. And it keeps beating, even as the other table sounds take over. I’m very fortunate as my friend has this table (and so I could play it alone, without the usual competing soundscape you encounter when you play in a bar or other pinball venue), and so I’ve already played it through multiple times to capture as much of the sound as I could. I will use Audacity to edit these sound clips and then layer them onto my image map so that it is also an aural map and further replicates the experience of playing this table.

Is It Procedural?

As an editor by day, I found myself particularly drawn to the project Stet by Sarah Gailey. The back and forth conversation happening within the comments section reflect the conversations I have with writers nearly every day. Though thankfully much of my comment conversations are generally easier to resolve.

But it raises issues I wangle with regularly about objectivity and subjectivity, and how my edits affect the author’s voice and the experience of the assumed audience. I edit content for the website of a large hospital system, and I edit all sorts of different content, but a large part of it is intended for a patient audience. I have pages and pages in my style guide about our voice and tone and how we try to meet patients where they are, with the information they need presented in a way that they will understand it (i.e., not too jargony, not too scary). But our content doesn’t exist in a vacuum; the writers are always being instructed to write about care in a way that emphasizes what makes our hospital and doctors better than other hospitals and their doctors, and the success of a page is measured in its transactionability—in page visits sure, but even more so in conversions (patients clicking through to schedule appointments). So very cynically (but accurately) you can argue that as much as we may try to write in service to patients, we are always actually writing in service to the business needs of the hospital.

And that’s what I find so powerful about this piece; it takes what may seem like generic and objective textbook-esque text and reveals what’s below that surface: real people and their lived experiences. And, as much as I don’t want to be on the side of the editor in this piece, I do appreciate that this project shows the editorial work that is almost always hidden from a final publication.

But is this procedural rhetoric, as defined by Bogost’s reading this week? The processes of editing have been revealed, and that is where the argument is being made, but we the readers are not really going through those processes. Bogost doesn’t seem to make interactivity a necessary condition for procedural rhetoric, but all of his examples have interactivity, so I admit I’m a bit confused and not entirely sure on the answer. Is it procedural because we can see the procedures in the comment bubbles? Would it be less procedural (or not procedural) if the same text was explained and presented in a linear story format? What if this were a game instead, and we could play either the role of the writer or the editor and we made the choices leading up to this outcome (or variations thereof)? That definitely feels like it would be procedural rhetoric. Are there degrees of procedural rhetoric? Or just degrees to which it is more or less effective? (I’m not really sure.)

On a completely different note, as Bogost mentions pinball as a non-persuasive game, I find myself wondering what procedural rhetoric could look like in a pinball table. I think he’s definitely right in that manufacturers and operators are interested mostly in coin drop, finding that sweet spot that keeps you interested but not able to play for too long in between needing to feed the machine more money. The technology on new tables is such that many of them have video game modes on the back screen, controlled by the flipper buttons (and sometimes extra buttons). So you could make a persuasive game in that part of a new table, the same as you could for any other videogame. But what about in the actual mechanics in the table’s playfield? It’s pretty standard that certain shots affect other parts of the table, so if you assigned different images and labels to them, you could explore cause and effect potentially. The first thing that comes to mind is what would a climate change pinball table look like? Maybe you’ve got a forest represented by drop targets, and unlike in normal pinball where you want to hit the drop targets to increase your score, hitting the drop targets decreases the oxygen levels, and if you hit all of them, then the game stops and your ball drains. But perhaps there are other shots you can hit (tied to things that could curb climate change) to replenish your forest and bring the drop targets back up? It’s definitely a simplification of a complex topic, but I’d play it! It would be a nice change of pace from the usual table themes: superheros, movies, and famous musicians.

Gamifying within the Magic Circle: Stern Insider Connected

Pinball is a game, but can there be gamification within it? Based on my limited experience with the Stern Insider Connected platform, I’d say the answer is a definitive yes.

Stern is one of the biggest manufacturers of pinball tables, and they have more than 20 tables that you can use their Insider Connected platform on. You create an account on their website, which gives you a unique QR code.

Screenshot of Bri's Stern Insider Connected QR code

When you play one of the connected tables, there’s a little square, usually on the bottom right corner, where the machine will scan your QR code. Once the table recognizes you, you’ll see your username show up on the screen, rather than the generic “Player 1/2/3/4”.

Black Knight Sword of Rage pinball table video display showing Stern Insider Connected user names

When you’re logged into a machine, Insider Connected keeps track of how many games you play and how many different tables; even the location where the tables are. It also keeps track of your achievements within the game (e.g., hitting different skill shots, starting each of the modes [modes are specific challenges, like hit these specific shots to defeat a monster], completing the modes, and then completing the modes within a certain amount of time). And anytime you reach one of these achievements, it shows up on the video display on the backbox, sometimes mid-play and sometimes after your ball drains before your bonus is calculated.

Black Knight Sword of Rage pinball table video display showing an achievement

There are a lot of achievements to be found on any table, and many of them are related to simpler aspects to the game, so when you’re a new user or playing a table for the first time (or at least the first time using Insider Connected), as I was, it shows you a lot of achievements. Feels like you’re being incentivized to play more to get even more achievements, which will become harder and harder to get the more you play.

When you log into your account, you’ll see your achievements as badges, and it will show you how many badges you have out of the total possible within a table. And it also gives you something called “Player XP”—I assume something to do with experience points? I have no idea how these are calculated, but it shows you what your points are compared to the total user average, which seems like a way to bring out your competitive side and encourage you to play more.

Screenshot of Stern Insider Connected showing Player XP and achievementsScreenshot of Stern Insider Connected showing achievement badges

There’s also an option to share your stats publicly, and if you do, then you can follow your friends and compare scores and achievement badges, which may also incentive you to play more to beat them. Stern also keeps track of high scores, and I’ve been to pinball venues where they have TV screens showing you the tops scores from the players who’ve logged in and played on the Stern tables at that location.

There are certainly advantages to knowing more about how you play. For instance, new tables generally have different types of skill shots, and the harder ones (secret skill shot, super-secret skill shot, etc.) are worth a lot more points if you hit them. It’s tempting to go for the harder skill shots for those extra points, but the platform can tell you how often you hit those shots, compared with the regular skill shot. So if can see you’re really good at hitting the regular skill shot, but not the others, it’s probably actually more valuable to you in competition.

Stern’s newest table, Venom, actually takes this even further. It takes its cue from video games in that you can save your progress on the different modes, but only if you are signed in with your Inside Connected account. I’ve heard there are also aspects of the game that are only available to you and/or are easier if have an account and are signed into it. The platform gives you such an advantage over non-platform users that if this table were to be in play for a tournament or other competition, you would have to disallow players from being able to log in. I have yet to play this table, let alone signed in to it with my account, so I’m unsure exactly how it all works, but it feels very manipulative, and I don’t love it if this is the future of their tables.

I’ve known about Stern Insider Connected since I started playing pinball, and I’ve resisted creating an account (until now when I could use it as yet another excuse to make pinball my homework). I’m not sure how much I will actually use it. I’m not sure I need to know this much about how I play. It definitely feels less fun to me, and I don’t need to know these stats to know that I’m getting better the more I play.

It’s clear that this platform was launched to get people to play Stern tables, and to keep them playing Stern tables. They’ve been open about this from the announced launch: “The platform is designed to enhance and extend player engagement with the games across both home and commercial environments. It also presents professional operators of the pinball machines with a robust set of tools to drive location play, build player loyalty, analyze performance, make adjustments remotely and maintain the machines.” If they’re this open about what the platform is meant to do, I do wonder what parts of it they are hiding. How are they using our data? I assume at the very least they are using us as testers to help design their new tables for them, while we pay them to do so. They have our location data too—can they also be using it to drive traffic to the locations near where we’re playing pinball, a la the Pokemon Go model?

No thank you. Give me those old electromechanical and solid state tables any day!

Bluey Episode About Play

I was talking with a friend about class and limitations making play fun, and he mentioned an episode of Bluey that explores this: “Shadowlands” (season 1, episode 5).

It’s adorable, but it does also require Disney+ subscription to watch. In case you have it, here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXx0znW2muQ

If you can’t watch the whole episode, this clip should be free, though it does appear to cut off right before the “a-ha” moment when the character who has previously been changing all the group’s gameplay to make it easier for her learns that the rules are what make games fun: https://youtu.be/lU1aHKr3hJg

Playing (with) Tristram

The first time I tried to read Tristram Shandy, I couldn’t get into it. I’d never even heard of it until I saw A Cock and Bull Story—the 2006 film adaptation. I went to the theater having no idea what it was about, but I loved it, and the next day went to the library to check the book out. But while the movie delighted, the book felt like such a slog! It was long-winded, and winding, and how could you be telling a story about your life and still not be born in it? Laurence Sterne was setting up quite challenge for his reader, and I just wasn’t ready for it then.

So when it was suggested in class for this project, I knew I wanted try again. Certainly it was motivating to finish the first book knowing that I had to. It also helped that we agreed to collectively annotate Book 1 with Hypothesis, so I could see as we were all reading along together the things that we were all being drawn, and seeing things my teammates were catching that I had missed.

Through group discussions inside and outside of class, we figured out what we were most drawn to in the story, and ways in which those would inform what a playable version of Tristram could look like. Dashes were one of the first things to come up—there are so many of them, and dashes within dashes within dashes. Punctuation and symbols in general are so visually prominent in the text. We also agreed it would be an interesting place to begin for two reasons: 1) Tristram is a story told through a more is more approach, so could we start from the least amount of the story and still be able to understand any of it? And 2) when you do text analysis one of the first steps is cleaning the text, which means removing punctuation, so we wanted to turn that expectation on its head.

We initially got caught up in trying to turn Tristram into an actual game, and we couldn’t quite figure what the premise or the goals would be, or how a player would win. But then we realized the challenge wasn’t to make a game, exactly, it was just to make the text playable. Which is when we started thinking about how to capture our experience of reading Tristram—equal parts thrilling and frustrating—and how we could help our player share in that experience.

We figured one reason someone might want to play Tristram would be to get through the story faster than just doing a straight read, so we leaned into the idea of trying to see what the least amount of the story is that we could give to players and still have them be able to understand the story. Is it the characters? Are there a few words in the story that are the most important? Is it the parts where the story talks about itself as a story? Or the parts where it commands the reader to do something?

Each time you click around, the amount of story that we give you expands, but the margins also expand, so the space for the text shrinks, and you have to work harder to scroll through to read the story. You have to be willing to work harder and stick around longer, which we thought captured the essence of Sterne’s many digressions. The story is one that resists coming to a point, or even coming to an end, and this is what we’re doing by increasing the margins each time we reveal more of the text. The digressions are the point, so stay awhile and get lost in them with us.

This was a very collaborative effort on the part of our team—Patricia, Maria, Kai, and myself. The user experience came about through our many conversations together, and we all QA’ed it and gave feedback at every step. For my own part, I created the “TLDR”/erasure poems for each chapter. I was inspired by Chapter 15, in which just a few words within the contract appear in bold. It felt like a funny little erasure poem. And then Sterne followed it with a summary “in three words” that was still longer than three words, so I thought, what if I made an erasure poem of each chapter of just “three” words. It was honestly a lot of fun, and it made me reflect one what I thought were the most interesting aspects of each chapter. I also had the idea that we create a long, digressive experience for the player before we even let them play the game. Maria and I worked on tweaking the dedication text that Sterne wrote together, and then we collaboratively wrote the introduction/instructions page together. At times we were writing in the Google doc at the same time, and we really played off of one another and were inspired by one another with our many different digressions along the way. In the end I think we wrote something here Sterne himself would be very proud of. And finally, I presented our project for the class.

This project overall was a lot of fun to work on, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say that it really enhanced our experience and appreciation of reading Tristram Shandy, and we think it will do so for our players as well.

Project link: https://patriciabelen.github.io/tristram-shady/web/00.html

Learning to Play Pinball as It Is, Rather Than How I Wish It Were

“Fun comes from the attention and care you bring to something that imposes arbitrary, often boring, even cruel limitations on what you—or anyone—can do with them. Worldly limitations impose a new and welcome humility, for they force us to treat things as they are rather than as we wish them to be” (Play Anything, pages 13–14). Wow, Ian Bogost, did I need to hear this as I get ready for another season of pinball league. In previous seasons I’ve been way too hard on myself, getting easily frustrated and mad at tables and at myself when I don’t play as well as I think I should, but I’ve been working on being kinder to myself and trying to remember that I like playing pinball because it’s fun. All of the limitations are what makes it fun! Even the cruel ones.

So Bogost got me wondering: What is pinball’s playground? Most pinball tables have a vertical backbox, where your scores are displayed, and a horizontal cabinet that encloses the playfield, where the action happens. At first glance, it’s tempting to think of the playfield as interchangeable with the playground, but, especially on newer tables, there can be interactive elements happening on the backbox display. Even more fundamental though, you the player are playing by using the launch button or plunger and the flipper buttons, all attached on the outside of the machine, so the cabinet holding the playfield becomes more liminal than its straight edges imply. Without you playing it, the machine does nothing, so you and where you stand must also be part of the playground. So how big a playground do you need? It’s hard to say, but you’ll know right away when you don’t have enough of it. When you really get into a game, you may find yourself moving your body along with the flippers—swinging your hips, bouncing up and down, even kicking your legs out. Or maybe you just don’t want someone hovering right next to you, pulling your peripheral vision away from the table. At some venues the tables are so close to each other, you’ll actually find your flippering fingers getting entangled with the person playing next to you. It’s less than ideal.

Reading Huizinga’s discussion of a “spoil-sport” got me wondering about tilting. Pinball tables have an internal level, and if you play too rough and move the table to much, the table will tilt: the lights will change—going dim or even going off—and you’ll usually hear a very sad sound and the music will stop. The “magic circle” is broken. On most newer tables it means the end of your ball, but on some of the older tables, it means the end of your entire game, regardless of how many balls you had left to play. Many players will play physically, strategically nudging, even sliding tables to get the shot they want or keep the ball from draining. Does that make them spoil-sports or even cheaters? The feature is built into all of the tables—the operator can even make the table more or less sensitive to tilting—so it seems like you can’t be a spoil-sport or cheater, rather it means you’re just willing to play a riskier version of pinball, as tilting can also greatly affect your score (on many tables, it doesn’t give you all of the points you’ve earned during play until after your ball drains, and you get none of those points if you tilt). However, I was recently playing in a tournament, and the tables were too close—with cup holders on the sides that practically were touching—and a player on one table shoved his table so hard it slid into the table next to him and tilted both games. In that instance, I would argue he was a spoil-sport for the person playing beside him.

Lastly, I thought a bit about where pinball fits as a game in Caillois’s table. Unlike Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia tried to argue, pinball is very much a game of skill/competition (agôn), albeit with some elements of chance (alea). Yes, the game is designed to drain your ball. There are openings all over the playing field, usually between flippers and along the edges (outlanes) where your ball wants to drain. Playfields are set up on an incline, some more steep than others, to ensure the ball wants to drain. And the playfield is set up with lots of things that want to bounce your ball back and drain. However, there are rules and strategy (ludus) you can learn to mitigate that. Hitting certain targets can increase your points, and also increase the value of other shots on the playfield. Hitting certain ramps or loops, in a certain order, can help you attain extra points or complete modes, or build toward a multiball. And there are ways you can catch the ball or at least slow it down so you can have more control and aim for the shots you want to hit. I also think there are elements of mimicry to entice you to play one table over another. Many tables are made based on comic books or movies, with playfields that literally mimic things in those intellectual properties that make them recognizable to you. Even more so, on some tables, you pick with character you want to play as before you launch the ball.