GRIZZLY PEAR

written snapshots

Category: Notes

  • Flipping the Switch, John G. Miller, 2005

    John G. Miller’s first book, QBQ!, was a gem about personal accountability. This second book, another tight little volume, does not disappoint. Even though both books are quite short, they are enhanced by being separate volumes.

    John has a clarion message to share with the world, the Question Behind the Question : “how/what can I do to address this problem”.

    With such a simple message, the method is equally as simple – ask the QBQ whenever you encounter a problem. Being personally accountable is a binary practice, you either are or you ain’t. It isn’t necessary to bloat a book on the subject.

    However, it never hurts to look at such a foundational concept from multiple angles. QBQ! was a collection of short essays that creating a cloud of thoughts and examples around the QBQ. Flipping the Switch is categorized into five key benefits from engaging in this practice: Learning, Ownership, Creativity, Service, and Trust. It also includes a discussion that addresses some of the excuses the author has encountered while evangelizing this message.

    The core message is quite simple, so either book is a great starting point. And then feel free to read the other book. By approaching the subject in a separate volume, the author is able to revisit this basic concept with a new lens. Reformatting the message keeps it fresh.

    Ultimately, personal accountability is all about execution. The goal is to encourage you to the Question Behind the Question and then take personal accountability to make your life better. How you get to action is somewhat irrelevant. Just pick up a copy and start asking the QBQ.

    The author was kind enough to send me a review copy of this book after I had sent him an appreciative email. Unfortunately, I got sidetracked with the arrival of my son and a major job change, so I’m happy to finally complete this pairing a couple years later.

  • Klaus, Sergio Pablos & Carlos Martínez López, 2019

    I recently typed up some notes on Over the Moon, which was a second rate Pixar knockoff. While Klaus is also a Disney knockoff, this one was well done, worthy of its Oscar Nomination for Best Animated Film.

    Klaus hit the right beats at the right time at the right intensity, catching all the critical Santa tropes without being in your face about it. The characters, even the villains, are funny without being grating. The plot is heartwarming, without being saccharine.

    In all, this is a finely crafted film, well worth a watch and something I suspect we will rewatch regularly around the holidays…at least until the kids are old enough to watch Tokyo Godfathers.

  • Tony’s DownTown Project, 2013-2014

    We moved to Las Vegas to be closer to our parents, but the timing worked out perfectly for me to get a job with Bunnyfish Studio right as Tony Hsieh was pouring funds into the improvement of the East Fremont District via his DownTown Project.

    I only met him once, briefly at our office in the Emergency Arts Building. He was swinging through and dropped by to say hello the principals. However, I can personally attest to the veracity of those stories of an unassuming billionaire with a backpack walking around town, at least during the day.

    I could have met Tony more often, however we had moved to Vegas to be closer to family and to start our own, so I did not indulge in the tech startup nightlife. From everything I heard, it was a heavy mix of working hard, and partying harder, (for good and ill).

    During my time in the middle of the East Fremont district, I worked on two major renovations, the John E. Carson Motel and the Bunkhouse Studio. Both were glorious extravaganzas where we were asked to dream big and allowed to achieve some of it.

    As with any client, it wasn’t all unicorns and roses, and ultimately I decided that I could not bet my career on a single patron. I changed firms after eighteen months, a week after the Bunkhouse opened, but a few weeks before DTP announced a big round of layoffs.

    Ironically, I was working on yet another DTP project with my new firm. It was not completely surprising when we found out that even the largess of a billionaire has limits. But saying the magic had faded implies that there was some magic in the first place. And those of us lucky to be in the middle of that scene certainly felt it during that time.

    A couple years later, I worked on the project that replaced the maze of artist galleries and offices at the first floor of the Emergency Arts Building with a couple chain restaurants. During demolition, I walked by the our old office. The mural the bosses had commissioned as a backdrop to our tiny room was still there, patiently waiting its turn to be turned to dust. This building wasn’t owned by DTP, but the Beat Coffeeshop was the nexus of that exciting time. As I grow older, I’ve come to realize the fleeting nature of these moments. It was bittersweet to play a hand in the final erasure of that time on East Fremont.

    This Friday, we found out that Tony Hsieh passed away due to injuries from a house fire in Connecticut. The news of this tragedy brought back a rush of memories. As any good architect, I have sharp opinions about everything, but 2013 and 2014 around Downtown Project really was a special moment, and I was fortunate to have played a small role during that time.

    Last year, the renovated Ferguson Motel finally opened up with a new massive sunken courtyard punctuated by a coffee shop. It was a completely gratuitous gesture that was half a decade late, but when this pandemic ends, I’ll go down there and buy Tony an espresso. Maybe I should have done it before he passed, but it’s too late for that, so this is the least I could do.

    Rest in peace Tony, I hope you found it.

  • The Big Sleep, Raymond Chandler, 1939

    I was first introduced to Raymond Chandler via a used bookstore in Paris while I was studying abroad for a semester. I was so taken that I went out and read everything Raymond Chandler wrote, short stories, novels, essays.

    During the pandemic, I thought it was time to revisit the top three highlights of his oeuvre, The Big Sleep, Farewell My Lovely, and the Long Goodbye.

    This book was his first novel, however I read it relatively late in that project – I didn’t find a copy of it until after I moved back to the States. I remember enjoying it quite a lot, an impressive first novel that was an explosion of energy, dramatically announcing a new author into the scene.

    Unfortunately, the book did not hold up under a second reading. There were a few cringeworthy moments in the novel which I had overlooked in a less politically charged time. The conversation around toxic masculinity certainly affected my read on Marlowe’s character, deflated the sense of pure energy that I experienced in the first reading.

    It didn’t help that I was concurrently reading Frederick Frank’s Zen of Seeing, which included multiple critiques of “artifice”. Hardboiled detective fiction is doubly such, layering the mystery genre with an overtly self conscious writing style. I still enjoyed Chandler’s use of wild metaphors, but this bit of bad timing also took some of the fun out of the ride.

    Thirteen years is a long time, so I’m curious how the other two novels will hold up. My memory of this book being a easy quick read still held true, so I don’t think it will be a major time investment. It will be interesting to see what my current self thinks of the literary indulgences of me, a quarter of my life ago.

    PS: I did not notice this fact in my first read, but The Big Sleep was published right before World War 2. It was an interesting exercise to read it with the awareness that the story was written before the full horrors of the mid-century era had become apparent.

  • Carole & Tuesday, 2019, Kipo, 2020

    Both Carole & Tuesday and Kipo started promising as small stories but lost their steam in their second acts when they “went big”. The folk singer duo disrupts the presidential election on Mars. A lost girl dethrones a would-be emperor.

    Conceptually, such stakes inflation might make common sense as a way to drive the story. How does our hero’s problem get worse? Make the problem really big! However, all the extra stuff that comes with saving the world bogs down the character development. The price is not worth the stakes.

    The charm in the first acts of both of these shows came from exploring the world. Learning about the characters who were simultaneously learning about themselves. Once established, it makes sense to take characters out for a spin to go “do stuff”, but when things get too grandiose the natural arc of the story suffocates under the weight of the action.

    Carole & Tuesday really suffered under this inflation. The two title characters get sidelined into becoming Mary Sue’s with the ancillary characters frozen in midway through the show, and a bunch of new personalities thrown into the second half.

    A couple examples from the world of movies to confirm the my dislike of this tendency.

    I absolutely loved Bladerunner but Bladerunner 2049 fell completely flat. The colors were pretty, but the global conspiratorial sweep of the second movie ran against the claustrophobic moodiness of the first movie. Let the bounty hunter chase his prey and don’t distract him with a worldwide economic conspiracy-catastrophe.

    My favorite movies from Studio Ghibli all keep a laser focus on the scale and don’t get grandiose. The genius behind Ghibli is that their majestic animations allow themselves to be bounded within the limits of their universe. That’s why Princess Mononoke and Castle in the Sky fall flat, even though both of them are brilliantly crafted – they veer too close to saving the world.

    Unfortunately Carole & Tuesday did not have a third act to rescue the show, but Kipo was able to regain the narrow focus in its third and final season, becoming a personal vendetta between the good and bad protagonists. Re-tightening the focus also let the show explore fresh moments of absurdity which made the first season so charming.

    When the plot gets going, stay small!

  • Tai Chi

    I picked up Tai Chi around the time I turned thirty.

    To ensure I was serious, I started by learning the 24 movement form from a book. After getting the sequence down, I decided that this was not just a fleeting fad and found a proper school that met at the upstairs exercise room at the Texas Rock Gym. They taught me the style of Dr. Jwing Ming Yang, transmitted via one of his early students who had taught the teachers at this school.

    Unfortunately, I don’t practice much now. The chaos of having children have resulted in me practicing a much simpler art – a quiet walk around the neighborhood, lost in my own thoughts. However, those two years with at the Texas Rock Gym, plus my nine months with the Lohan School in Las Vegas, was critical in learning a meta skill that has been critical in all my subsequent endeavors.

    The process of Tai Chi is to slowly relax into into movement.

    It’s not as easy as it sounds. As a beginner in any endeavor, there is a temptation to jump in and thrash around, but one needs to remember when if you can’t do it slowly, then you’re doing it wrong. When confronting a new activity, there is a subconscious tendency to tighten up. Tai chi has taught me to notice the tension, pause, and let my mind and body loosen up before pushing forward. I learn better that way.

    At this point I’m not sure where I’m going to take this short adventure in martial arts. If one of my kids gets into it, I’ll definitely revive hobby. But even if stays dormant until the kids head off to college, the thirty months of focused relaxation taught me a life skill that has been serving me for well over a decade.

  • Princess Jing, Roberto Fraga, 2018

    “Mass market title” only better” used to be a common cliche to describe eurogames.

    But for real, this is Stratego, only better.

    The joy and curse of becoming a connoisseur is realizing the inadequacy of your previous life.

    However the pursuit of refinement has limits. After a few plays, I realized that the basic game is superior to the advanced version. The raw simplicity of this game is the race to opposite sides of the board with minimal interference.

    I suspect the “legendary animals” variant (which is as clunky as it is themed) was thrown into the package because the publisher could not justify such a simple game in a big box.

    However, I refrain from calling this game “over-produced” because this game only works because of this level of physical production. I don’t see how you can do a mini-version, even if the basic game is about as complex as Nine Men’s Morris.

    This is a little filler that needs to be done up big.

    Let the advanced gamers who desire unnecessary complication enjoy their legendary variant. The version that gets us to the real competition is most certainly the true game.

  • Anatomy Fluxx, Andrew Looney, 2018

    Well, this game is just Fluxx, with body parts.

    So it’s educational. Did you know what the prostate does? Now I know why us boys got this feature in our system. It’s not just there to cause cancer.

    Speaking of which, this game is quite easy to censor if you are worried about getting sidetracked into a premature conversation about human reproduction. There are 4 keepers (testes, prostate, ovaries, uterus) and 4 goal cards (female reproductive system, menses, semen, puberty) that are related to the process of making more of us. None of these cards are remotely graphic, but they are easily removed with no noticeable detriment to the gameplay (for better or for worse).

    Having only played EcoFluxx and the Original, this was my first introduction to “Creepers” and “Ungoal” card mechanisms, but I don’t find them particularly compelling (again, for good or ill). So if you know anything about the extended Fluxx family, feel free to <insert your opinion here>.

    Ultimately, this game is just Fluxx, with body parts.

    However, there is one item I’d like to highlight – the illustrated hands on the cards. Looney Labs chose an olive brown tone, not an orangish spray tanned tone, but a natural dark skinned tone of someone who is not from of northern European.

    The ubiquity of pinkish white hands in board gaming is a reasonable phenomena for a hobby whose epicenter is in Germany. However, I was pleasantly surprised to see my hands represented in a game. In fact, I was surprised at how much I appreciated this gesture. I didn’t realize how deeply I had internalized whiteness as the only available normal in boardgaming.

    Kudos to the Looney’s and their graphic designers.

    This game is just Fluxx, but dang, it was nice to see my body parts.

  • The Dip, Seth Godin, 2007

    While digging around my books, I came across this little volume which had long ago cemented my love for Seth Godin.

    It resurfaced at an opportune time since I’ve been contemplating what to do with this blog. I was concerned that keeping up this blog might be busywork that was getting in the way of doing something better, however I wasn’t totally ready to give up on the idea of publishing on a regular schedule.

    I keep a platform for self expression outside of addictive Corporate Social Media to have some control my own writings. However, maintaining an archive does not mean I need to spend concentrated effort on this website. I had started and ended daily blogging over a full year in 2018-19. However, daily blogging required daily production, and with two young kids, that meant all my spare time was spent at the keyboard.  Even though I enjoy writing as a hobby, I also want to have time to read and enjoy the finer things in life, which a daily schedule did not allow.  

    A few months ago, I gave this blog a slightly more focused tagline of “notes on my consumption”. The key change is that it has pushed myself towards a better balance of reading and writing. 

    Knowing that I would be banging out a “book report” at the end of each instance of media consumption has created a solid excuse to regularly indulge in writing. The looming assignment seems to have been effective in sharpening my mind as I read the book. It’s an algorithm that keeps some pressure to create output at a less relentless rhythm than the rising of the sun. It has given me time to consume without devolving into a mere consumer.

    Reading The Dip was down then up experience during these contemplations. The first section made me consider dropping this project and letting this blog just become an internet repository again, but by the end, it resulted in some fresh encouragement to keep going. 

    The critical moment came at the end of that book, when Seth Godin encouraged the reader to decide upon the criteria for quitting before starting a project.

    After some thought, I realized that this blog is not about having an audience even though I think the public nature of a blog helps sharpen my writing. Instead, writing this blog helps me enjoy the world around me better. So I will quit if it stops helping me better enjoy the world around me.

    I’m pretty sure that this personal blog will not be particularly exceptional in the wider universe of personal blogs, but it still is the best internet site of my little world. So I’ll keep up this effort under this tag line, for now.

    Who knows what I might find if I push through to the other side of this dip? Maybe it will just be a few months of weekly essays about the things around me until I come across another more compelling project. Maybe it will become a long running platform like Dave Winer’s blog. Maybe it will morph from idiosyncratic ramblings about my own stuff into something more public facing.

    Grizzlypear has always been here for these various digital experiments.

    Here’s to the current / next one.

  • Mottanai (again), Carl Chudyk, 2015

    I had originally written in early August as update to my original review, but I didn’t get around to posting till now in early October. Aside from one predictably disastrous game with my wife, Mottainai’s ease of setup and quickness of play continues to be perfectly suited for life with young children when even self-gaming is a rare and often short lived event.

    Damn this is one fine game.

    The analogy that floats in my head is that Innovation is a fencing duel, Glory to Rome is a raucous pillow fight, and Mottainai is a knife fight in a dark room.

    My opinion of the game had previously hit a high-plateau when I last reviewed it. In the intervening months I’ve made a concerted effort to get better at Crafting and Selling. Neither of these tasks are easily intuitive like to Monking and Smithing, but once I got a handle on those them, the game blossomed yet again. I’ve also developed a fondness for Tailoring since getting two covered tailor helpers is a devastating position, cycling through a sixth of the deck every other turn.

    I’d say that most of my games are still won via a quick race to 5 works, however, many more of these plays now assisted by crafting. I also need to work my personal inclination towards building and get better at making early sales. Even though it’s tempting to leave materials in the craft bench for future works, selling a couple items forces the rush-builder opponent reassess their strategy (even though it would usually still be best for them to end the game as quickly as possible since they have already committed to that path).

    As an aside, I have not yet tried the extended game with the endgame condition at 6 works on a side. With my big-builder tendency, I understand why people might prefer it, but I think the game is made great because of this fundamental tension of shooting for an quick ending versus selling goods. I should try it at some point, but I suspect it will bloat the play experience.

    I am also now much better at playing the individual cards, especially knowing if something is worth holding a couple turns so I can complete the work (very rarely). Most games where I spend such effort to complete a work will result in a loss. The opportunity costs are too high and cycling your hand is so critical that if you can’t shoot the silver bullet immediately, it is invariably better to use its task and move on.

    At this point, I’ve developed that ESP feel that comes with card games that I’ve played an ungodly amount of times (such as Tien Len or Ticket to Ride). My brain has wrapped itself around the deck so that I feel the shape of the game just by a few cues here and there.

    I might be overly cocky (especially since I’ve only once played another human), but I think it would be virtually impossible to lose a game with a first time player. Extending this completely untested hypothesis, I would conjecture that I would win 9 games out of 10 with a new player, which should be a ridiculous claim for such a high randomness game. The fact I would dare to make such a conjecture shows the level of skill that is embedded in this design. After these initial plays with a hypothetical opponent, I think the the disparity would quickly level out to two thirds of the games until it flattens out to even.

    The hard part would be to get a new player to get past the initial introduction to the game. Mottainai is an intricate, counterintuitive duck. Glory to Rome is equally convoluted, but this experience feels counterbalanced by its silliness and patently broken combos. Innovation is a bit more methodical and forgiving than either game. Mottainai uses the insane flow chart of Glory to Rome to recreate Innovation as a sprint. Accelerating the byzantine mechanics of Glory to Rome creates a bewildering experience, hiding the vast opportunities for skilled play.

    After 180 plays, I still feel there is room for improvement, though I most likely need to start find opponents who aren’t myself to get there.

    Not surprisingly, I now rate this game a 10.