Prototype2 is full of cheap shots. The game starts with Blackwater--I MEAN BLACKWATCH (subtle!) being referred to as “baby-killers”. Every other word of almost every line of dialogue is “fuck”. Collectible audio logs are almost all variations of “hey should we kill some civilians?” (yes). The bad guys are bad because their “tests” are “what happens if we release some monsters onto some caged civilians?” Oh, and a prominent plot point involves torturing an eight-year-old girl.
I almost had to stop playing at that point. Between torturing a child and the incessant, overwhelming amount of gore, the game was actually starting to affect me. I had dreams full of the red, gushing organic material that coats the Red Zone. I put down the game for a few days. Picked it up for another hour to finish it off, just to get a sense of closure. Haven’t picked it up again since.
Weirdly, the game features a priest as an informant/sidekick/confidant for a bit. One might think that could lend a degree of moral concern to the game. Nope. This priest isn’t concerned with your actions as much as he’s concerned with dispensing plot points obtained through questionable means: “Hey, sucks your family is dead. Check out this military conversation I intercepted!” Well okay, and then he dies and is replaced by another informant who dispenses missions. Then another informant shows up, but she dispenses plot points while sexily bending over to use her laptop, which appears to be placed at thigh level. It’s like, there’s a counter right there. I can see it. If you moved your laptop there, it would probably improve your posture a whole lot.
Anyway. Prototype2. Life is cheap. In case you couldn’t tell while you’re mowing down a crowd of civilians to regain health or pop an achievement.
Criticisms about things no-one cares for. THESE VIEWS NOT ENDORSED BY: MY EMPLOYER,MY FAMILY, MY GIRLFRIEND, ME
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
saved games
Do the rules of a game include reloading? Or is failure permanent?
A saved game is a bookmark. You save when you’re done playing, and when you come back everything is just as you left it.
A saved game can also be a backup, e.g. before confronting a boss because if you lose you’re going right back to that point. Some people save before making a big decision in case they don’t like the outcome. Obsidian games autosave when you enter a new “area” (maybe a dungeon or a house) because the developers half-expect the game to crash while taking one area out of memory and putting in another one.
Saved games are also memories. When you finish a book, you don’t leave a bookmark in it permanently as an act of conquest, yet I can’t bear to delete save files from games I’ve finished long ago and never intend to revisit.
Saved games are not always so static.
Back before cartridges had allocated space for saving progress, we had to copy down passwords and re-enter them to get back to where we were. These passwords were saved and shared. We fiddled around with the passwords, trying to break their code and give us an extra Energy Tank.
And before achievements, save files weren’t encrypted. Therefore, they were often susceptible to alteration through a hex editor. Take the value of a variable you care about, like score or number of lives. Then do something in the game such that the value changes, like raising your score or losing a life. Save again. Comparing the two saves, watch for the one location in the file where value X becomes value Y, and the secret of the save file is revealed.
In fact, as we go further and further into the past, save games become less of a bookmark or checkpoint, and more of a conversation. In tabletop games, there is no “save” procedure in the rules, even though many games can span several hours going into days. A “save” is a social agreement--we leave the pieces where they are, and it’s your turn when we get back. Don’t screw around with the board, please.
Anna Anthropy makes the point in this Another Castle podcast that we seem to spend an awful lot of effort into making games that act like humans. We’ve replaced dungeon masters with scripting, playmates with AI bots. Save games are another example of social agreement morphing into technological mandate.
There’s a practice called “save scrumming”, most often applicable to Roguelikes. Roguelikes are a genre of dungeon crawler where each save overwrites the last, and when you die, your save is overwritten. This effectively creates “permadeath”, since you can’t reload after making a bad decision. “Save scrumming” is the practice of illicitly preserving save files through some method, usually copying the save file so the game can’t delete it, and copying it back after that potion you drank turned you into stone. “Save scrumming” has a special name since it’s considered cheating. You’re circumventing the rules in order to alter the outcome.
I used to play Settlers of Catan quite often and one of my friends had a house rule where if one die landed anything other than perfectly flat on one face, she would shout “COCKED DIE”, scoop up both dice, and re-roll before anyone saw the outcome.
Now we play Arkham Horror quite regularly. The game structure is very complicated, with each turn having several phases, and tons of abilities that can only be used during a specific phase in a specific order. It’s not uncommon to hear at our table: “I forgot to adjust my stats. Is it okay if I bump up speed now in order to make it to the Black Caves this turn?”
Why is save scrumming different? In a tabletop game, you are only held to the rules by the people at your table. If you beg and cajole and threaten and cry, yeah, we’ll probably let you re-roll a “cocked die” or change your stats outside of phase order. Some players might be more resentful than others, but that’s a social problem resolved with social skills.
In Nethack, the rules are enforced by something else entirely. You can’t yell at the Nethack random number generator when that egg you picked up turned out to be a Cockatrice egg. There is no begging for mercy from your fellow players with implicit threats of social catastrophe. You can’t contest that you totally hit RT in time to trigger that Renegade Action and the game just didn’t see it. The computer has decided. There is no leniency. You either fail or succeed, a strict binary. Your only recourse is what the game allows.
A saved game is a bookmark. You save when you’re done playing, and when you come back everything is just as you left it.
A saved game can also be a backup, e.g. before confronting a boss because if you lose you’re going right back to that point. Some people save before making a big decision in case they don’t like the outcome. Obsidian games autosave when you enter a new “area” (maybe a dungeon or a house) because the developers half-expect the game to crash while taking one area out of memory and putting in another one.
Saved games are also memories. When you finish a book, you don’t leave a bookmark in it permanently as an act of conquest, yet I can’t bear to delete save files from games I’ve finished long ago and never intend to revisit.
Saved games are not always so static.
Back before cartridges had allocated space for saving progress, we had to copy down passwords and re-enter them to get back to where we were. These passwords were saved and shared. We fiddled around with the passwords, trying to break their code and give us an extra Energy Tank.
And before achievements, save files weren’t encrypted. Therefore, they were often susceptible to alteration through a hex editor. Take the value of a variable you care about, like score or number of lives. Then do something in the game such that the value changes, like raising your score or losing a life. Save again. Comparing the two saves, watch for the one location in the file where value X becomes value Y, and the secret of the save file is revealed.
In fact, as we go further and further into the past, save games become less of a bookmark or checkpoint, and more of a conversation. In tabletop games, there is no “save” procedure in the rules, even though many games can span several hours going into days. A “save” is a social agreement--we leave the pieces where they are, and it’s your turn when we get back. Don’t screw around with the board, please.
Anna Anthropy makes the point in this Another Castle podcast that we seem to spend an awful lot of effort into making games that act like humans. We’ve replaced dungeon masters with scripting, playmates with AI bots. Save games are another example of social agreement morphing into technological mandate.
There’s a practice called “save scrumming”, most often applicable to Roguelikes. Roguelikes are a genre of dungeon crawler where each save overwrites the last, and when you die, your save is overwritten. This effectively creates “permadeath”, since you can’t reload after making a bad decision. “Save scrumming” is the practice of illicitly preserving save files through some method, usually copying the save file so the game can’t delete it, and copying it back after that potion you drank turned you into stone. “Save scrumming” has a special name since it’s considered cheating. You’re circumventing the rules in order to alter the outcome.
I used to play Settlers of Catan quite often and one of my friends had a house rule where if one die landed anything other than perfectly flat on one face, she would shout “COCKED DIE”, scoop up both dice, and re-roll before anyone saw the outcome.
Now we play Arkham Horror quite regularly. The game structure is very complicated, with each turn having several phases, and tons of abilities that can only be used during a specific phase in a specific order. It’s not uncommon to hear at our table: “I forgot to adjust my stats. Is it okay if I bump up speed now in order to make it to the Black Caves this turn?”
Why is save scrumming different? In a tabletop game, you are only held to the rules by the people at your table. If you beg and cajole and threaten and cry, yeah, we’ll probably let you re-roll a “cocked die” or change your stats outside of phase order. Some players might be more resentful than others, but that’s a social problem resolved with social skills.
In Nethack, the rules are enforced by something else entirely. You can’t yell at the Nethack random number generator when that egg you picked up turned out to be a Cockatrice egg. There is no begging for mercy from your fellow players with implicit threats of social catastrophe. You can’t contest that you totally hit RT in time to trigger that Renegade Action and the game just didn’t see it. The computer has decided. There is no leniency. You either fail or succeed, a strict binary. Your only recourse is what the game allows.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Dwarf Fortress Tutorial
I've published my Dwarf Fortress tutorial to this site. Right now it takes you through the setup and early game.
I tried to keep it as simple as possible. Comments are enabled for people to complain if they get lost, intimidated, or otherwise annoyed.
I deliberately did not include steps on how to use tilesets with the game. Your mileage may vary, but there are plenty of tutorials that use tilesets.
I plan to update later with more information about mid-to-late game.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Dear Esther
A series of questions and answers about Dear Esther:
What makes you finish your first “round”?
The simple joy of walking around a beautiful landscape. The slight mystery of the island. The music. The view.
What makes you start a second round?
For me - I did not realize the island could be explored thoroughly in a single pass. I thought I missed some places.
For others - Discussing the island turns the player into an unreliable narrator; “I heard X” is not true for other players, which prompts a replay to prove one person right and ultimately prove them both wrong.
In particular, “I saw a ghost”, “I saw a car”, “I heard no one died in the accident” all made me replay the game.
What makes you start a third round?
Realizing there is a very large script with a huge amount of variation. Realizing the repeated symbols across the island change. Starting to dig into where symbols are repeated and why. Letting the island inhabit your brain, to the point where you start feeling sympathy for the boredom and endless repetition to which the protagonist sometimes refers as you start at the lighthouse again.
What makes the game compelling to replay?
Realizing it’s a ten-minute investment to play a single chapter over. Not being afraid of encountering endless, pointless combat or searching for that one last collectible that eludes you.
=-=-=-=-=-
Here is the first choice in Dear Esther.
Do you take the high road, or do you take the low road?
If you are unfamiliar with the game, your question is probably, “Why does it matter?” The joy of this game is that it doesn’t matter. There is no “left for loot” rule, no minimap to consult, no collectibles, no change in difficulty, not even a time limit. You could walk down to the beach, come back up, and walk along the cliff.
The game asks, “What do you want to see today, right now? The cliff or the beach?” I choose the cliff almost every time. I like being up high and looking at the water below. You might choose the beach in order to hear the waves and look at the scrawlings in the sand. There is no “correct” answer, no metagame. There is only your personal preference. When you take a walk, do you go on the high road or the low road?
How come when we talk about 8-bit systems, we talk about the beauty that comes out of working within constraints (four sound channels, eight colors, 16x16 pixel sprites), but when we talk about playing a game, the game becomes worthless if there isn’t a branching ending, different styles of play, or high scores? Isn’t the act of playing a game also an act of creation? When we start a new Settlers of Catan board, we proceed to tell the story of that board--the person who immediately gets a monopoly on wheat, the three players who start too close to each other, and so on. When we start a new season in Madden ‘12, we tell the story of our franchise team. Maybe you’re playing the underdogs as they climb their way to the top, or the established veterans who falter in your unworthy hands. We get invested in outcomes, we curse and scream when we are betrayed, and we laugh and gloat when we succeed. These are things we create when we play, so if it’s still an act of creation to play, why is it that games aren’t allowed to be constrained?
Some people might not enjoy constrained games, but people hate RPGs and sports games and board games. We don’t allow them to redefine those things as “not a game”.
What makes you finish your first “round”?
The simple joy of walking around a beautiful landscape. The slight mystery of the island. The music. The view.
What makes you start a second round?
For me - I did not realize the island could be explored thoroughly in a single pass. I thought I missed some places.
For others - Discussing the island turns the player into an unreliable narrator; “I heard X” is not true for other players, which prompts a replay to prove one person right and ultimately prove them both wrong.
In particular, “I saw a ghost”, “I saw a car”, “I heard no one died in the accident” all made me replay the game.
What makes you start a third round?
Realizing there is a very large script with a huge amount of variation. Realizing the repeated symbols across the island change. Starting to dig into where symbols are repeated and why. Letting the island inhabit your brain, to the point where you start feeling sympathy for the boredom and endless repetition to which the protagonist sometimes refers as you start at the lighthouse again.
What makes the game compelling to replay?
Realizing it’s a ten-minute investment to play a single chapter over. Not being afraid of encountering endless, pointless combat or searching for that one last collectible that eludes you.
=-=-=-=-=-
Here is the first choice in Dear Esther.
Do you take the high road, or do you take the low road?
If you are unfamiliar with the game, your question is probably, “Why does it matter?” The joy of this game is that it doesn’t matter. There is no “left for loot” rule, no minimap to consult, no collectibles, no change in difficulty, not even a time limit. You could walk down to the beach, come back up, and walk along the cliff.
The game asks, “What do you want to see today, right now? The cliff or the beach?” I choose the cliff almost every time. I like being up high and looking at the water below. You might choose the beach in order to hear the waves and look at the scrawlings in the sand. There is no “correct” answer, no metagame. There is only your personal preference. When you take a walk, do you go on the high road or the low road?
How come when we talk about 8-bit systems, we talk about the beauty that comes out of working within constraints (four sound channels, eight colors, 16x16 pixel sprites), but when we talk about playing a game, the game becomes worthless if there isn’t a branching ending, different styles of play, or high scores? Isn’t the act of playing a game also an act of creation? When we start a new Settlers of Catan board, we proceed to tell the story of that board--the person who immediately gets a monopoly on wheat, the three players who start too close to each other, and so on. When we start a new season in Madden ‘12, we tell the story of our franchise team. Maybe you’re playing the underdogs as they climb their way to the top, or the established veterans who falter in your unworthy hands. We get invested in outcomes, we curse and scream when we are betrayed, and we laugh and gloat when we succeed. These are things we create when we play, so if it’s still an act of creation to play, why is it that games aren’t allowed to be constrained?
Some people might not enjoy constrained games, but people hate RPGs and sports games and board games. We don’t allow them to redefine those things as “not a game”.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Gameslisting
Okay, hi! That was enough of a diversion. Let’s talk about video games again.
I'm juggling several different games, which makes it difficult to carve out time to write a detailed blog post for each one.
Shin Megami Tensai: Devil Survivor 2 - SMT:DS2 is a great strategy RPG, a great jRPG, and a great monster-collecting RPG. It's also a bit grind-heavy, but that makes it ideal for short bursts of play on my bus ride into work. You can spend twenty minutes grinding and ten minutes rearranging teams and skills, then close the lid of the DS and head into work. On the way back, you can spend ten minutes taking care of plot events and another twenty minutes fighting, then close the lid and head home.
Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning - Well, here's the deal. The Editor, as a hardcore Bioware fan, gets first dibs on Mass Effect 3. I, trying to avoid spoilers, lock myself in the next room and play through games I wouldn't otherwise play. So far, I've skipped through most of the plot of KoA, but the conflict between the immortal Fae and the mortal...other people, seems unique enough. Movement is fast and fluid, and combat feels pretty crunchy (on Corvus' exhortations, I've picked up some chakrams and I enjoy their weird rhythm). I don't feel particularly constrained by the class system, unlike Skyrim. Right now, I do feel a little rushed through some areas--again, unlike Skyrim, wherein I felt quite comfortable taking my time to do shit. I'm not sure if it's my mindset (FINISH MASS EFFECT SO WE CAN DISCUSS GARRUS-SEX, KATY) or if it's some property of the game.
Star Wars Online: The Old Republic - At the release of Cataclysm, The Editor persuaded me to give WoW a try. We played for about two months, I hit level 65, and then I quit after reaching The Outlands. The first twenty levels of WoW felt great--levels popped frequently (almost too frequently, although I understand that was intentionally tweaked to get players to the endgame faster), crafting was rewarding, and in general I Got It. I started playing SWOTOR with a friend and I'm just about to hit the 2 month mark. Again, the first twenty levels felt great. On top of that, I loved my giant yellow Twi'lek Jedi Knight, her yellow lightsabers, and her slightly sassy take on the Light Side. The mission structures really contrasted WoW's goofy plot, which is now patched together across several different expansions. However, the honeymoon is starting to wear off. I hate paying $15 to maintain an account that I only play for 6 hours a month. Crafting is prohibitively expensive for my level, so I have to let the interesting parallelization of crafts grinding lay dormant while I build up cash. As fun as the plot is for my main Jedi, I can't bear the thought of going through Dromund Kaas again with my Sith alts. That said, I heard a rumor that the next content patch will have new lightsaber colors, and as a hardcore Star Wars nerd, I'm not sure I can resist giving my Twi'lek a yellow/purple lightsaber set.
Dwarf Fortress - New release, new excuse for me to pick up one of my favorite games again. This time, I wrote a beginner's tutorial since the Wiki's tutorial is nigh-unreadable to me, and doesn't flow through the game in a way that's useful to a first-timer. The tutorial is currently being playtested by random DF first-timers. Once I get enough feedback, I'll release it on this blog.
Dear Esther - I find this game a great blend between very relaxing and very emotional. I want to write a ton about it. I will soon. For now, I'll just say that very few games ask little enough of me that revisiting them is not a chore, and very few games reward me so much for deciding to revisit them.
I'm juggling several different games, which makes it difficult to carve out time to write a detailed blog post for each one.
Shin Megami Tensai: Devil Survivor 2 - SMT:DS2 is a great strategy RPG, a great jRPG, and a great monster-collecting RPG. It's also a bit grind-heavy, but that makes it ideal for short bursts of play on my bus ride into work. You can spend twenty minutes grinding and ten minutes rearranging teams and skills, then close the lid of the DS and head into work. On the way back, you can spend ten minutes taking care of plot events and another twenty minutes fighting, then close the lid and head home.
Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning - Well, here's the deal. The Editor, as a hardcore Bioware fan, gets first dibs on Mass Effect 3. I, trying to avoid spoilers, lock myself in the next room and play through games I wouldn't otherwise play. So far, I've skipped through most of the plot of KoA, but the conflict between the immortal Fae and the mortal...other people, seems unique enough. Movement is fast and fluid, and combat feels pretty crunchy (on Corvus' exhortations, I've picked up some chakrams and I enjoy their weird rhythm). I don't feel particularly constrained by the class system, unlike Skyrim. Right now, I do feel a little rushed through some areas--again, unlike Skyrim, wherein I felt quite comfortable taking my time to do shit. I'm not sure if it's my mindset (FINISH MASS EFFECT SO WE CAN DISCUSS GARRUS-SEX, KATY) or if it's some property of the game.
Star Wars Online: The Old Republic - At the release of Cataclysm, The Editor persuaded me to give WoW a try. We played for about two months, I hit level 65, and then I quit after reaching The Outlands. The first twenty levels of WoW felt great--levels popped frequently (almost too frequently, although I understand that was intentionally tweaked to get players to the endgame faster), crafting was rewarding, and in general I Got It. I started playing SWOTOR with a friend and I'm just about to hit the 2 month mark. Again, the first twenty levels felt great. On top of that, I loved my giant yellow Twi'lek Jedi Knight, her yellow lightsabers, and her slightly sassy take on the Light Side. The mission structures really contrasted WoW's goofy plot, which is now patched together across several different expansions. However, the honeymoon is starting to wear off. I hate paying $15 to maintain an account that I only play for 6 hours a month. Crafting is prohibitively expensive for my level, so I have to let the interesting parallelization of crafts grinding lay dormant while I build up cash. As fun as the plot is for my main Jedi, I can't bear the thought of going through Dromund Kaas again with my Sith alts. That said, I heard a rumor that the next content patch will have new lightsaber colors, and as a hardcore Star Wars nerd, I'm not sure I can resist giving my Twi'lek a yellow/purple lightsaber set.
Dwarf Fortress - New release, new excuse for me to pick up one of my favorite games again. This time, I wrote a beginner's tutorial since the Wiki's tutorial is nigh-unreadable to me, and doesn't flow through the game in a way that's useful to a first-timer. The tutorial is currently being playtested by random DF first-timers. Once I get enough feedback, I'll release it on this blog.
Dear Esther - I find this game a great blend between very relaxing and very emotional. I want to write a ton about it. I will soon. For now, I'll just say that very few games ask little enough of me that revisiting them is not a chore, and very few games reward me so much for deciding to revisit them.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Modern Living & Proceduralism
“By procedural literacy I mean the ability to read and write processes, to engage procedural representation and aesthetics, to understand the interplay between the culturally-embedded practice of human meaning-making and technically-mediated processes.”-Persuasive Games, Ian Bogost
“If you know the position a person takes on taxes, you can determine [his] whole philosophy. The tax code, once you get to know it, embodies all the essence of [human] life: greed, politics, power, goodness, charity. To these qualities that Mr. Glendenning ascribed to the code I would respectfully add one more: boredom. Opacity. User-unfriendliness.”-The Pale King, David Foster Wallace
“Training videogames become educational when they stop enforcing a process as a set of arbitrary rules in the service of the organization and begin presenting a procedural rhetoric for the business model that the employee has been asked to work under. Once the worker has a perspective on this business model, he can interrogate it as a value system rather than an arbitrary condition of employment.”-Persuasive Games, Ian Bogost
“The underlying bureaucratic key is the ability to deal with boredom. To function effectively in an environment that precludes everything vital and human. To breathe, so to speak, without air [...] find the other side of the rote, the picayune, the meaningless, the repetitive, the pointlessly complex. To be, in a word, unborable. [...] It is the key to modern life. If you are immune to boredom, there is literally nothing you cannot accomplish.”- The Pale King, David Foster Wallace
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
digital goods
Originally, I was planning to take a short break from writing about games and talk about some books I've been reading. That attempt was frustrated when my Kindle informed me the notes I have been taking were too numerous, and thus I could not have easy access to my notes. So, feel free to look up these locations yourself and draw your own fucking conclusions.
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5067-69 | Added on Friday, November 04, 2011, 04:44 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5517-18 | Added on Monday, November 07, 2011, 04:38 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5537-38 | Added on Monday, November 07, 2011, 04:40 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 6677-79 | Added on Tuesday, November 08, 2011, 05:15 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 7075 | Added on Tuesday, November 08, 2011, 05:46 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 9048 | Added on Thursday, November 17, 2011, 04:51 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 11896-97 | Added on Tuesday, November 29, 2011, 05:45 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Note Loc. 11897 | Added on Tuesday, November 29, 2011, 05:45 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 13878 | Added on Monday, December 05, 2011, 05:23 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 25170-71 | Added on Friday, December 16, 2011, 04:32 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 18030-31 | Added on Monday, December 19, 2011, 09:51 AM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 18093-94 | Added on Monday, December 19, 2011, 09:55 AM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 19467-68 | Added on Tuesday, December 20, 2011, 05:06 PM
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5067-69 | Added on Friday, November 04, 2011, 04:44 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5517-18 | Added on Monday, November 07, 2011, 04:38 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 5537-38 | Added on Monday, November 07, 2011, 04:40 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 6677-79 | Added on Tuesday, November 08, 2011, 05:15 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 7075 | Added on Tuesday, November 08, 2011, 05:46 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 9048 | Added on Thursday, November 17, 2011, 04:51 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 11896-97 | Added on Tuesday, November 29, 2011, 05:45 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Note Loc. 11897 | Added on Tuesday, November 29, 2011, 05:45 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 13878 | Added on Monday, December 05, 2011, 05:23 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 25170-71 | Added on Friday, December 16, 2011, 04:32 PM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 18030-31 | Added on Monday, December 19, 2011, 09:51 AM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 18093-94 | Added on Monday, December 19, 2011, 09:55 AM
==========
Infinite Jest: 0 (David Foster Wallace)
- Highlight Loc. 19467-68 | Added on Tuesday, December 20, 2011, 05:06 PM
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