The mind is a strange thing.  It leads us to thoughts – recurrent, recursive, obsessive.  These thoughts do not leave us, but plague us, dwindling slowly over time until we are naught but one with our minds, living entirely in a realm of the fictional.  Then the fictional world begins to intrude on the real world – faces from the menial reality of the mind become intertwined with those of our day to day, replacing what we see.  It’s a film seen through a filter of despair and want and hope, and all of those things that make us inherently human.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have taken a path that would lead me to playing the white knight on a regular basis.  Perhaps I should have been aware of some inherent weakness within, known that it could – indeed, would – happen at one point or another.  Does the solution to the problem lie within my awareness?

But then, if I were to believe myself immune to the fantasy I would be denying a core essence of what makes me a person.  Is it not a part of life to find things beautiful?  And in finding beauty, do we not then care for things?  Things, I say, as if I speak of some absolute – but then in a way I do, for to do otherwise would be wrong (in so many ways).

My momentary obsession has led me to searching the dark corners of the internet, where I’ve found more answers – and like any good answer in any good story they’ve led only to more questions and the subsequent desire to continue questing.  But herein lies the dilemma of the unattached: my horse can go no further, lest I cross some unseen, unknown boundary from whence I fear an inability to recover.

So I’ll stop and sigh and leave things to my dream world, those questions vacant and unfulfilled.  In my mind’s eye I can see the answers, tantalizingly near, dancing as if shadows in some misty veil.  But that is a line I cannot cross, else obsession becomes more.  From this I will recover, once my mind is filled with thoughts of more than she.

Finishing up Lost season 4, I can’t help but ponder a D&D campaign based on the premise of the show, mixed with the exploration/colonization rules for Kingmaker.

Will have to ponder that for later.

I just spent the last five hours of my day playtesting the rules for building kingdoms in Pathfinder’s Kingmaker Adventure Path. After 2 years passage of time, my kingdom had three cities, a population approaching 20,000 people, and was fairly stable (and incredibly profitable.) I’m concerned that there’s not a lot of improvements that increase your Stability (your kingdom’s “statistics” are divided into three – Economy, Stability, and Loyalty. Economy determines how many resources you can generate, Stability how well your kingdom holds together, and Loyalty how loyal your people are to you.) And considering that you’re making Stability checks at least once a “turn”, this is something to keep in mind – building too fast might lead to rampant unrest, so while it makes sense to focus on the Economy at first, the middle “level” for your kingdom will be making sure you’ve got Stability as well as Economy. Also – I haven’t had to make a single Loyalty check yet after 25 turns. I wonder what that’s about.

I wonder if Einstein ever felt himself a fraud? Did the big guy – arguably the greatest mind of the 20th century, if not the second millenia – ever look himself in the mirror after a long day of discussing formulas and variables and think to himself: What do I think I’m doing? What gives me the right to presume I’m correct?

Now, I know that I’m not anywhere near the same league as Einstein. But Einstein has always been a personal hero of mine, someone I’ve looked up to, admired, and studied – not just on a scientific and historical basis, but on a personal one as well. I have a book of letters and essays that Einstein wrote, expressing his views on everyday and world affairs, from religion to politics to food.

So I wonder if Einstein ever questioned how intelligent he really was.

The reason I wonder is because I’ve always questioned myself. I’m just a smart ass 26 year old with a brain that’s too quick for his own good and a mouth that’s perfectly willing to lead him into bad scrapes. And then I come home and I’ve got some fresh victory under my belt and I can’t help but sit and wonder… how the hell did I pull that off?

But then I pull off other victories, other small miracles, and on, and on. And I’m approached by other, more experienced attorneys to ask me questions, and they listen and value my advice – my advice, as if I were some wizened sage, instead of just a lucky rookie with less than two years’ experience on the job. And I find myself not batting an eye and answering questions and offering opinions, and I’m just dreading the day when someone will just pull aside the curtain and reveal me for a trickster fraud.

But that day doesn’t come, and I end up here at home wondering how the hell I pulled it off, wondering if I am a fraud, if the game will ever end.

And so I wonder…

I got a Wii this weekend (finally).  I also bought Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess yesterday, and have spent the better part of this afternoon exploring Hyrule – or, well, the tiny bit of Hyrule I’ve managed to see so far.  (I was informed by my friend Mark that TP is probably the longest Zelda game in the series – and boy howdy, considering I”ve essentially just spent the last 4 hours revisiting the same three or four areas, I can more or less guarantee that’s right.)

The game itself is fun.  It has that undeniable Zelda feel – enemies are a little quirky, the quests are a little oddball without being goofy, and there’s some nice puzzles along the way. One thing that’s bothered me so far (and I have no idea if this is the case) is the linear feel of the game – it lacks that expansive overworld that’s been signature of the series since the beginning.  Perhaps the exploration comes later, once I finally get out of the forest… I sure hope so.  So far, moving from one dungeon-like area (even the village feels a little like a constrained dungeon) to another begins to wear and get repetitive.  I recall having fun just riding Epona across the landscape in Ocarina of Time and having a blast finding stuff to do.  This just feels cramped.

The controls are a little… frenetic.  You wiggle your controller to swing the sword, and use various button combinations for different types of attacks.  During pitched battles I feel like I’m just flailing around aimlessly.  This is the Wii equivalent of button mashing.  However, unlike button mashing, which to the untrained eye might look like skill, this just looks like someone having a seizure.  Still, the controls are fairly responsive, and auto-targeting is a great boon.  So, ultimately, it doesn’t distract too much from the fun.

Overall, the experience has been enjoyable.  It’s still a little too early (er… for me) to tell if this is a great game, but I haven’t been discouraged from going forward.  So good times.