My hobby has been compared to gambling (more specifically, slot machines) which is something I can't abide. So I will attempt to explain why it transcends other games dependent on chance, while perhaps further explaining it to those who don't quite understand why I find it so compelling.
First, magic is huge. This is not speaking to its popularity, which is seeing a significant increase as well, but rather to the sheer number of cards in existence. There are over 12,000 cards in print. Their ability to be played depends on the format of tournament you are entering. At the tournaments I've been attending recently, over half of those cards are legal. Just knowing the possibilities available to be played against you is a significant endeavor in and of itself. Granted, a much smaller number of these cards are actually of a high enough quality to see play in a tournament. With the rise of the internet as a way of gathering information, "stock" lists of certain decks frequently make the composition of your opponent's deck a known quantity. But the people who truly enjoy the game are willing to sift through the thousands of options and emerge with interactions and strategies that are unique and powerful all the time. The constantly changing landscape of the game, as well as the potential to find new things to do make the game incredibly complex.
So deck-building is something that differentiates the game from other games with outcomes that depend on chance. Some decks are simply better than other decks. Things usually function in a way such that there is a rock-paper-scissors sort of effect. One type of deck beats another type, but loses to a third. Of course, there can be five, six, or seven types of decks, which make it a much more difficult to predict what's headed your way, but things are only random to a certain degree. If you have a particular type of deck you want to defeat, it is not difficult to build a deck that will do so. The trick lies in making it resilient to the other ones out there. So chance plays a role in which type you get paired up against, but skill comes into it in your initial decision of what deck to play based on what you're expecting to be popular and do well.
So magic is not at all like pulling the lever on a slot machine and crossing your fingers. Sure, there is some amount of luck involved, but when skill enters the equation, you'll find some patterns. For example, compare slot machines to poker. Both are theoretically based on chance. And yet you don't see any professional slot machine players. (well, maybe there are people who consider themselves as such, but let's not give them credit.) There are, however, people who do reliably well at poker. Despite the fact that there is plenty of chance involved, the same people rise to the top. Obviously, then, this is a game determined as much by skill as chance, and the same is true of magic. There are professionals who consistently do well in tournaments. It's not always the same eight guys in the top eight of a tournament, but I would venture to say that the top eight is usually comprised of 50% professionals (the top 30 or 40 guys). This wouldn't be possible if the game were based only on luck. Sure, the best players can have a bad run. The (arguably) best player in the world went 1-5 in the last pro tour. But in the top eight were three of his teammates and two other players from the hall of fame. (Yes, there is a hall of fame.)
Then there's the actual gameplay. Sure, you've controlled what went in to your deck, but how can you say that you'll draw the cards you want in a 60 card deck? There is a huge difference even between magic and poker in that regard. In magic, there is a mulligan system, where you can shuffle your opening seven cards into your deck and draw a new hand with one less card. This significantly reduces the variance with which you have to contend. It is perhaps the hardest part of the game trying to decide which hands to keep and which to return for one less card, because the cards you start with so drastically determine the course of the game, your early strategy, and therefore, which player establishes control. But again, this is a skill, not a random effect. There are obvious decisions, of course, but the subtle ones are where the good players make up for the fact that chance is a factor. If you play enough, the fact that neither player knows their next card results in a parity which is broken by good and bad decision making.
So when I say I did poorly because I played against decks well-designed against mine, that doesn't mean I had bad luck. It means I likely chose the wrong deck. And when I didn't draw well, that is something that can happen to anyone, but something that only prevents the less-than-professionals from winning. I saw my favorite player reduced to keeping a sketchy five card hand, but he played his way out of it and won through good anticipation and correct decisions. All in all, the game is made fun by the variance far more than it is hurt. Chess has no variance, for instance, and while it is a fun mental exercise, I can't play it long before I get tired of the same old, same old. The sheer size of the card pool, the fact you get to pick your weapons, and the huge branches of the decision tree during the actual game make magic the most fun I've had in a passive hobby. Granted, if they incorporated physical fitness somehow, I'd be on cloud nine, but I'll take what I can get.
February 29, 2012
February 28, 2012
Hello there
I feel a little silly writing about some things these days, but I guess I might as well get all the stuff on my mind out there. Maybe it will make more sense if I can see it written out.
I'm not sure whether it's seasonal affective disorder or what, but I've been having these bouts of overwhelming sadness at the oddest times. The other day I was driving back from Minnesota (having a really great time talking with Xavier), and I went in to a gas station to use the restroom. All of a sudden I got swept up in this wave of dread, which concluded with me basically running out of the gas station, getting back in the car, shaking this kid awake and forcing him to talk to me so I could be distracted. It sneaks up on me sometimes. Usually it's just at night, right before I go to sleep, and it's always while I'm alone. I don't know how my mind gets turned, or tweaked, or obsessed, or whatever it is, but I've been on a bit of a binge recently. If it's not my own death I'm concerned about, it's my parents, or even just a random person on the street. Yesterday I was sitting on the bus watching some people talking, and I felt sorry for them solely because they were going to die eventually.
I had a dream last night where I was a passenger in a car, and from the back seat someone told the driver that this highway driving wasn't anywhere near as exciting as the stuff he used to do back when he was a kid. So the driver grabbed the parking brake and we started skidding. A car passed us in the right lane (going the same direction), and I could see the faces of the people in the car looking really confused. We fishtailed, spun 360 degrees, and continued a ways up the highway, eventually sliding gently into the ditch, only to see that the other car had run into the side of a bridge. I jumped out and ran over. Somehow, there were already paramedics there, and the two people from the car were stretched out on the ground. One was being immobilized, and the other was just being given up on, dead. I went back to the car and remarked that it was funny, because the dead guy looked so much healthier than the guy with all his limbs strapped down. I followed that up with a joke I don't remember the punch line to, but I do remember thinking at the time that it was really inappropriate. Everyone in my car laughed, though. I couldn't tell whether or not it was because it was funny, or because it was just easier to laugh and not actually think about what happened.
There's probably something to that dream, but I don't really feel like thinking about it too hard. I rarely remember my dreams though. Usually I don't sleep long enough in one go to actually get to the point of dreaming, but a couple times this past week I've just felt like staying in bed. I have a really hard time falling asleep initially, but once I'm asleep, I can wake up and fall asleep again really easily. So I just went back to sleep instead of getting up as normal, and was rewarded with some interesting dream material. There were a couple of other ones, but I don't remember them any more. I think this is one of the reasons I don't really like operating on a schedule. Left to my own devices, I would probably sleep at the randomest times. I could definitely see myself falling asleep at three in the morning, waking up at eight, doing something for a couple hours, going back to sleep, waking up to do something outside, and just scheduling my day around whenever I felt tired. As things are, the nights I don't fall asleep result in a tiresome day of me being slightly frustrated by everything. I have to hope that I coincidentally happen to get tired by eleven at night to have any shot of getting a decent night's sleep, but that rarely happens.
This segues very awkwardly to the next thing that's been on my mind. I need to find somewhere to live that isn't my parents' house. Opinions seem to fluctuate between "we're happy to have you around, ride bikes, lift weights with you, etc." and "I can't stand how you spend your time; we both have real jobs, and you need to get a life." While it's certainly nice to imagine the former is the majority opinion, it seems to be losing ground. Recently, I've been likened more and more often to a parasite, a slacker who isn't living up to their potential, and a general disappointment. Sometimes this is accompanied by a sad tone of voice lamenting the fact that "good parents need to promote independence and make sure their kids can make it on their own." I guess I don't strike them as independent. Or capable of figuring things out for myself? I'm pretty confused, actually. When I asked what I should do to live up to my potential, I was told I should get a job. When I asked what sort, my mom suggested Walmart. Because that's the place well-known for fostering potential...
One of the things I remember most about my childhood is my mom constantly saying all she wanted was for me to be happy. I guess I've been a pretty reticent person for quite a while, to the point where she took me from activity to activity all day every day just so I would be happier. I appreciate that still. But I'm really not a naturally happy person (in case that's somehow not clear). I'm still only happy when I'm engaged in an activity. Right now those activities are handball and magic the gathering. Occasionally I feel good while on my bike. I certainly feel alive when I'm on my bike, which in turn makes me feel better about the rest of my life. But I'd rather live in my car than work forty hours a week at a job I don't like. So yes, I'm sure it's irritating to see me spending my time frivolously. But it's a choice I'm making consciously. If we're talking about living up to potential, I'm honestly not sure how to go about doing that. Potentially, of course, I could do anything I want. The problem is quite obviously that I don't want to do anything. I don't object to going back to school. I enjoy school even. But I mostly enjoy it because it isn't work, and I get to spend my time how I want. When I was in college, I think I spent an average of four hours a day on the internet. At least. Certainly not living up to potential. The thing was, not very many people knew it. I got good grades with the rest of my time, did the sports I do now, worked a similar amount of hours. Just substitute a few more all-nighters filled with homework for some of the all-nighters filled with insomnia and my life there was the same. So the real reason I need to move out is so I can keep doing the things I'm doing, but have fewer people know.
To tie this all together, one of the biggest reasons nothing excites me as a career is that I'm growing to be more and more of the opinion that if I'm just living on this planet for a relatively short amount of time, it really doesn't matter how I spend it. If I get by while being broke, from paycheck to paycheck, nothing is significantly different from working 40 hours a week, except that if I don't have money, I'm sort of screwed if something bad happens. But if I'm happier doing that, maybe it's worth the risk. This is probably offensive to a lot of people. I don't mean it to be. But consider it from a bunch of different perspectives. Biologically, the imperative is to survive long enough to reproduce, and be successful enough to ensure your offspring have a chance to meet that goal. I have no interest in having kids. In fact, the only reason I've ever considered having kids is that I've heard it gives meaning to life, and I frequently wonder what that meaning could be. Anyway, because I am not going to reproduce, biologically I have no significant pressure to push myself to my "potential."
Economically, our system is based on capitalism. The basic idea as I understand it is that in a free market, those with the most desire and best set of traits rise to the top. I won't go into the flaws that prevent our system from realizing those goals, but it's certainly worth noting that there is plenty of room for people to just coast though the "system." It rewards consideration and thought as much as effort. If you work really hard, but spend your money at the roulette wheel, you will find yourself behind in the system. Conversely, if you make very little money but spend a lot of effort investing it wisely and maximizing its use, you can probably get slightly ahead. But there is a middle ground. The people who make almost nothing, but who can be smart about it. I won't be raising a family on my almost zero income. I won't be drinking, doing drugs, or frequenting casinos. I'm capable of being a careful consumer. Yes, I will be below the poverty line if I continue with my present course, but is it worth deviating to live up to my "potential?" I'm not sure.
Morally is where the real debate might occur. The whole parasite thing is bound to come up again. As a person with a heavy leaning toward atheism, I could attempt to sidestep the debate entirely, denying the existence of an objective set of morals, and rerouting the debate to one of the social system. But even people with a heavy-handed morality have cause to think seriously about the rightness or wrongness of my actions. Am I causing undue harm? Probably not. So the question becomes one of whether or not there is a responsibility to live up to potential. What is the value of being a complete human being? Is taking an active role in the economic and social circles of civilization a necessary part of being a good person? I would obviously argue to the contrary. I feel as though I am generally a moral person, though of course I don't usually think of my decisions in those terms. I further believe that my time is for me to decide how to spend, as long as that decision doesn't adversely affect the people around me.
So I wound up rerouting the debate to the social system after all. I'm just not good at thinking about things from a purely moral perspective I suppose. If there is an objective system of morality, I might be hard-pressed to justify spending my time how I do. Then again, anyone who believes in this objective morality is pressed even harder to justify their opinion, so I am comfortable with the standoff. Anyway, the societal component of rules generally falls in a couple of major camps. There are the people who think that people should be free unless that freedom infringes on the freedom of another, and those people who think that people should be forced to follow rules that, in general, promote the well-being of society. Either way, I don't see any conflict. If the first group is correct, it should be obvious I'm free to get by doing as little as possible. If the second group is correct, I need only conform to the rules set out by society to ensure general happiness, something I'm willing to do, but only to the absolute minimum degree.
So basically the point of this whole things was:
Life is futile, so I'll do what I want.
I hope my next posting catches me in a bit of a better mood, or that I at least have the sense to hide it as I usually do. I'm pretty tired right now, so my train of though just kind of made its way into the computer. Thanks for reading.
I'm not sure whether it's seasonal affective disorder or what, but I've been having these bouts of overwhelming sadness at the oddest times. The other day I was driving back from Minnesota (having a really great time talking with Xavier), and I went in to a gas station to use the restroom. All of a sudden I got swept up in this wave of dread, which concluded with me basically running out of the gas station, getting back in the car, shaking this kid awake and forcing him to talk to me so I could be distracted. It sneaks up on me sometimes. Usually it's just at night, right before I go to sleep, and it's always while I'm alone. I don't know how my mind gets turned, or tweaked, or obsessed, or whatever it is, but I've been on a bit of a binge recently. If it's not my own death I'm concerned about, it's my parents, or even just a random person on the street. Yesterday I was sitting on the bus watching some people talking, and I felt sorry for them solely because they were going to die eventually.
I had a dream last night where I was a passenger in a car, and from the back seat someone told the driver that this highway driving wasn't anywhere near as exciting as the stuff he used to do back when he was a kid. So the driver grabbed the parking brake and we started skidding. A car passed us in the right lane (going the same direction), and I could see the faces of the people in the car looking really confused. We fishtailed, spun 360 degrees, and continued a ways up the highway, eventually sliding gently into the ditch, only to see that the other car had run into the side of a bridge. I jumped out and ran over. Somehow, there were already paramedics there, and the two people from the car were stretched out on the ground. One was being immobilized, and the other was just being given up on, dead. I went back to the car and remarked that it was funny, because the dead guy looked so much healthier than the guy with all his limbs strapped down. I followed that up with a joke I don't remember the punch line to, but I do remember thinking at the time that it was really inappropriate. Everyone in my car laughed, though. I couldn't tell whether or not it was because it was funny, or because it was just easier to laugh and not actually think about what happened.
There's probably something to that dream, but I don't really feel like thinking about it too hard. I rarely remember my dreams though. Usually I don't sleep long enough in one go to actually get to the point of dreaming, but a couple times this past week I've just felt like staying in bed. I have a really hard time falling asleep initially, but once I'm asleep, I can wake up and fall asleep again really easily. So I just went back to sleep instead of getting up as normal, and was rewarded with some interesting dream material. There were a couple of other ones, but I don't remember them any more. I think this is one of the reasons I don't really like operating on a schedule. Left to my own devices, I would probably sleep at the randomest times. I could definitely see myself falling asleep at three in the morning, waking up at eight, doing something for a couple hours, going back to sleep, waking up to do something outside, and just scheduling my day around whenever I felt tired. As things are, the nights I don't fall asleep result in a tiresome day of me being slightly frustrated by everything. I have to hope that I coincidentally happen to get tired by eleven at night to have any shot of getting a decent night's sleep, but that rarely happens.
This segues very awkwardly to the next thing that's been on my mind. I need to find somewhere to live that isn't my parents' house. Opinions seem to fluctuate between "we're happy to have you around, ride bikes, lift weights with you, etc." and "I can't stand how you spend your time; we both have real jobs, and you need to get a life." While it's certainly nice to imagine the former is the majority opinion, it seems to be losing ground. Recently, I've been likened more and more often to a parasite, a slacker who isn't living up to their potential, and a general disappointment. Sometimes this is accompanied by a sad tone of voice lamenting the fact that "good parents need to promote independence and make sure their kids can make it on their own." I guess I don't strike them as independent. Or capable of figuring things out for myself? I'm pretty confused, actually. When I asked what I should do to live up to my potential, I was told I should get a job. When I asked what sort, my mom suggested Walmart. Because that's the place well-known for fostering potential...
One of the things I remember most about my childhood is my mom constantly saying all she wanted was for me to be happy. I guess I've been a pretty reticent person for quite a while, to the point where she took me from activity to activity all day every day just so I would be happier. I appreciate that still. But I'm really not a naturally happy person (in case that's somehow not clear). I'm still only happy when I'm engaged in an activity. Right now those activities are handball and magic the gathering. Occasionally I feel good while on my bike. I certainly feel alive when I'm on my bike, which in turn makes me feel better about the rest of my life. But I'd rather live in my car than work forty hours a week at a job I don't like. So yes, I'm sure it's irritating to see me spending my time frivolously. But it's a choice I'm making consciously. If we're talking about living up to potential, I'm honestly not sure how to go about doing that. Potentially, of course, I could do anything I want. The problem is quite obviously that I don't want to do anything. I don't object to going back to school. I enjoy school even. But I mostly enjoy it because it isn't work, and I get to spend my time how I want. When I was in college, I think I spent an average of four hours a day on the internet. At least. Certainly not living up to potential. The thing was, not very many people knew it. I got good grades with the rest of my time, did the sports I do now, worked a similar amount of hours. Just substitute a few more all-nighters filled with homework for some of the all-nighters filled with insomnia and my life there was the same. So the real reason I need to move out is so I can keep doing the things I'm doing, but have fewer people know.
To tie this all together, one of the biggest reasons nothing excites me as a career is that I'm growing to be more and more of the opinion that if I'm just living on this planet for a relatively short amount of time, it really doesn't matter how I spend it. If I get by while being broke, from paycheck to paycheck, nothing is significantly different from working 40 hours a week, except that if I don't have money, I'm sort of screwed if something bad happens. But if I'm happier doing that, maybe it's worth the risk. This is probably offensive to a lot of people. I don't mean it to be. But consider it from a bunch of different perspectives. Biologically, the imperative is to survive long enough to reproduce, and be successful enough to ensure your offspring have a chance to meet that goal. I have no interest in having kids. In fact, the only reason I've ever considered having kids is that I've heard it gives meaning to life, and I frequently wonder what that meaning could be. Anyway, because I am not going to reproduce, biologically I have no significant pressure to push myself to my "potential."
Economically, our system is based on capitalism. The basic idea as I understand it is that in a free market, those with the most desire and best set of traits rise to the top. I won't go into the flaws that prevent our system from realizing those goals, but it's certainly worth noting that there is plenty of room for people to just coast though the "system." It rewards consideration and thought as much as effort. If you work really hard, but spend your money at the roulette wheel, you will find yourself behind in the system. Conversely, if you make very little money but spend a lot of effort investing it wisely and maximizing its use, you can probably get slightly ahead. But there is a middle ground. The people who make almost nothing, but who can be smart about it. I won't be raising a family on my almost zero income. I won't be drinking, doing drugs, or frequenting casinos. I'm capable of being a careful consumer. Yes, I will be below the poverty line if I continue with my present course, but is it worth deviating to live up to my "potential?" I'm not sure.
Morally is where the real debate might occur. The whole parasite thing is bound to come up again. As a person with a heavy leaning toward atheism, I could attempt to sidestep the debate entirely, denying the existence of an objective set of morals, and rerouting the debate to one of the social system. But even people with a heavy-handed morality have cause to think seriously about the rightness or wrongness of my actions. Am I causing undue harm? Probably not. So the question becomes one of whether or not there is a responsibility to live up to potential. What is the value of being a complete human being? Is taking an active role in the economic and social circles of civilization a necessary part of being a good person? I would obviously argue to the contrary. I feel as though I am generally a moral person, though of course I don't usually think of my decisions in those terms. I further believe that my time is for me to decide how to spend, as long as that decision doesn't adversely affect the people around me.
So I wound up rerouting the debate to the social system after all. I'm just not good at thinking about things from a purely moral perspective I suppose. If there is an objective system of morality, I might be hard-pressed to justify spending my time how I do. Then again, anyone who believes in this objective morality is pressed even harder to justify their opinion, so I am comfortable with the standoff. Anyway, the societal component of rules generally falls in a couple of major camps. There are the people who think that people should be free unless that freedom infringes on the freedom of another, and those people who think that people should be forced to follow rules that, in general, promote the well-being of society. Either way, I don't see any conflict. If the first group is correct, it should be obvious I'm free to get by doing as little as possible. If the second group is correct, I need only conform to the rules set out by society to ensure general happiness, something I'm willing to do, but only to the absolute minimum degree.
So basically the point of this whole things was:
Life is futile, so I'll do what I want.
I hope my next posting catches me in a bit of a better mood, or that I at least have the sense to hide it as I usually do. I'm pretty tired right now, so my train of though just kind of made its way into the computer. Thanks for reading.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)