In the curious lexicon of games criticism, we often speak of “world-building,” yet rarely do we stop to think about its opposite. Anything made can be destroyed, yet destruction in games is rarely the destruction of games. What masterpiece of eschatological design could possibly convey the all-encompassing, crushing finality of a true apocalypse? Perhaps we will never know. But, in the meantime, we have the next best thing.
Twenty years after Barlow declared cyberspace independent, I myself was in Davos for the WEF annual meeting. The Fourth Industrial Revolution was the theme this year, and a big part of me was giddy to go, curious about how such powerful people would grapple with questions introduced by technology.
What I heard left me conflicted and confused. In fact, I have never been made to feel more nervous and uncomfortable by the tech sector than I did at Davos this year.
The last time I was back to see my parents, I realized how much there was to remember when eating at home. Since many people’s experience is limited to eating at Chinese restaurants, I put down some rules in these notes.
Duane Dimock once paid $450 for a box of cereal. But this wasn’t the makings of a week of very expensive breakfasts: Rather, it was the box itself that he was after. Dimock belongs to a small niche group of hobbyists who collect cereal boxes, and in their world, $450 doesn’t raise many eyebrows. Last summer, an unopened package of Post Ten — the now-defunct variety pack of mini cereal boxes — dating back to 1961 sold for a whopping $2,550 on eBay. Just a few weeks ago, a box of Quaker Quisp from the same era fetched over $2,100.