It’s been an interesting month. I’ve been trying to unpack all that’s happened, and convert that into something resembling eloquent written reflection, but I’m realizing that’s a pipe dream. For now, at least.
As I sit here at my desk on a late Saturday night, watching another wildly improbable Braves comeback (in Denver, of all places), I can only muster a few simple, vague emotions, which I shall funnel into some stream-of-consciousness ramblings.
I’m thankful to be alive. I’m more thankful that my wife is alive. I don’t want to overdramatize what is, in reality, an everyday occurrence– especially here in Atlanta. But having never been in a major car accident, I can now attest that those accidents… they stick around. They mess with you. The doctors told us that we would likely experience sudden and random traumatic relapses (my words), and to not let that discourage us too much. This was very accurate. I spent two weeks plus as a mere shell of myself, haunted by flashbacks, quiet bouts of anxiety and depression, and unshakeable lethargy. Or more simply, I was just “off.” It was like a cold that wouldn’t go away (and I was also literally fighting a cold at the time): never completely debilitating, but tremendously annoying. I just wanted to be “normal” again, but it felt like that wasn’t going to happen.
But, again: thankfulness. If gratitude is the only takeaway from this whole ordeal, then it’s a solid one.
As I distance myself from the accident, and settle back into “normal,” we turn our attention back to the disruption that was already in progress: specifically, leaving Atlanta for Denver. There’s a lot of emotion to unpack here, as well.
I’m excited about our new adventure. I’m terrified to leave the security of my job and my coworkers to become a full-time freelancer. I’m looking forward to getting to know what is, according to most everyone I’ve talked to, an amazing city and region. I’m dreading the cross-country trips and yet another apartment search. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to build something new. I’m lamenting the geographical separation from my family, my friends, and basically everything I’ve ever known. I’m stoked to see Tiffany get to pursue a dream that so many aspire to but can’t make the cut.
It’s a whole mess of emotions that I honestly can’t deal with all at once. It’s going to take at least several months. Which is about all of the time I have.
So, this month has been an interesting one. The Braves have been fun to watch. They’ve been on a tear ever since I wrote my last post. (Coincidence? Absolutely.) The Avengers was pretty awesome as well. I’ve also fully made the transition to someone that actually enjoys guacamole, albeit moderately. See, it’s not all doom and gloom.
Unless you’re a Red Sox fan, that is. If so, I offer my condolences.
Four-game losing streaks are ugly. But “0-4” is infinitely more ugly.
So here we are, just four games into baseball’s 162-game marathon, and the apocalypse has come and gone. Or, at least, you would feel that way if you talked to a Braves fan.
It doesn’t help that the four losses have come against the Mets and the Astros, the consensus picks as the worst teams in the NL. And they weren’t pretty losses, either (if there is such a thing).
Meanwhile, the Phillies are 1-3 and the Marlins 2-3. We should probably go ahead and give the division crown to the Mets.
Coming into this season, the Braves looked like an 85-win team. A good team that could potentially be great, but playoffs were certainly not a given. What keeps them from being great is their penchant for slumping at the plate.
We’ve seen this for a while now. It’s a lineup full of former and potential All-Stars: Michael Bourne, Martin Prado, Chipper Jones, Brian McCann, Dan Uggla, Freddie Freeman, Jason Heyward… on paper, it looks great. But these guys slump, and then they tear it up, and then they slump again. I’m not sure who is to blame for that– or if it’s just the natural ebb and flow of baseball– but we knew coming into this season that it would be feast or famine.
Heck, the Braves are not even two full years removed from a very ugly 9-game losing streak. Boy, was that a fun time to live in Atlanta. Naturally, less than two months later, the Braves sat atop the division, fought their way to a 9-game winning streak, and finished the year in the playoffs.
So, to Braves fans who find themselves scraping at themselves with broken pottery– I don’t blame you, but I have to ask: is this your first baseball season?
This may seem like an anti-Rick Warren post. It’s not, I promise. This may seem like a partisan-politics post. It’s not, I promise.
However, in response to a tweet that Rick Warren made today, there are a few things I have to get off my chest, hopefully in a civil fashion.
First, the tweet in question:

And now, some context.
With this tweet, Rick Warren is promoting the P.E.A.C.E. Plan, an international initiative to “mobilize Christian churches in working together to plant churches that promote reconciliation, equip servant leaders, assist the poor, care for the sick, and educate the next generation.” Now, I don’t know much about the Plan, but those are all ideas I can get behind (as long as educate ≠ indoctrinate). So I have no beef there.
However, the tweet wasn’t really about the P.E.A.C.E. Plan. Or at least, that’s not the part that screams loudest.
Intentionally or unintentionally, Warren is using Matthew 25 (specifically verses 31-46) as an indictment of the Affordable Healthcare Act, insinuating that it is the role of the church alone to provide care for the poor and the sick.
(The following is the result of a sleepless late night writing session. It is long, and if you’re not particularly interested in the future of computers, I wouldn’t waste my time. I should also note that I’m writing from an Apple-using context; I mean no offense to Windows or Android users.)
The computing world is at a crossroads, and it’s going to get awkward.
Down one street is the classic desktop computer at its peak; these machines have never been more powerful or more functional, and they open its user up to an incredible world of creative possibilities. However, it is still reliant upon admittedly antiquated computing paradigms: the Finder, complicated hierarchies, criss-crossing reference files, command-line tweaking, and maddening software/hardware drivers. But for power and productivity, the classic desktop is unmatched.
I’ve never been an overly ambitious person.
I know that will surprise some people, with my overwhelmingly fiery nature.
(Sarcasm notation needed)
In grade school, I was never driven by anything in particular, except perhaps the expectation that I was supposed to do well. In college, I never had any dreams of achieving great success during or after my studies, save for a stretch where I aspired to be an undergraduate religion professor. Oh, the irony…
However, when I was roughly 20 years old, I found an intense passion for design. I enjoyed it immensely. I at least thought I was good at it. People left and right encouraged me to push forward. And so I spent nearly all of my free hours in Photoshop and Motion, trying out new techniques and making flyers and silly videos for campus organizations. I had no idea what is was exactly, but I knew I was building for something.
That period of ambition, along with some great (divine?) timing and connections, ultimately helped land me my current job. This job has pushed me so much further than I dreamed back then, simply through daily challenge and being around talented people.
But it’s been easy to get comfortable.
Not too comfortable, mind you– there’s always the next challenge to tackle, and always the chance that the rug will be pulled from under me on a given project.
But I admit that I’ve settled in some. I know what’s expected of me and I’ve gotten used to the flow. The months and art start to blend together. Sometimes I’m good at keeping the attitude of a student, and sometimes I’m just trying to get everything done. Deadlines and downtime. It’s the cycle of the design world. At times it unfortunately keeps me from pushing.
Now I’m staring at a big unknown once again– a chance to build something. If I’m going to make it, I need to tap into my 20 year-old self once again; the person who had everything to learn, everything to prove, and nothing to lose (though that last part isn’t remotely accurate this time around). I need to have ambition.
It’s interesting that ambition has become a dirty word. Understandable, but interesting. We often associate ambition with success for the purpose of accumulation– people who follow big ideas for the sake of making more money than the next guy.
But on the other side, I see good people who avoid ambition like the plague. They don’t want to be pushy, they don’t want to risk, or they don’t want to disturb the status quo. And so a lot of good things are left undone.
I’ve seen the fruit of good ambition, and I’ve seen the barrenness of its absence. I think God prefers the former. And I’ve been holding out.
The opportunities are always there, but right now it’s screaming at me. I’m just not yet sure of what it’s screaming.

Tomorrow, Apple will do their thing. Specifically: hold a press conference and show off a shiny new product, which will–barring a major disaster–find its way into many millions of eager hands. Meanwhile, the analysts and journalists have been doing their thing. Specifically: spend months chasing rumors and rumors of rumors, making predictions, and praising/criticizing unannounced products– all in hopes of luring a few more readers to their websites.
So, hey, I’ll join in.
Pretty cocky, I know. But if there’s one thing Apple hasn’t done in a while, it’s surprise people. The leaked parts and specs are partly to blame– we pretty much know all there is to know about a new Apple product before it is released. But Apple is also being deliberately conservative. For one, they’re the comfortable market leader, and they’ve done so by releasing a revolutionary product every few years, which then evolves and grabs more market share. And it’s worked for them. But it’s also the way Apple designs: it needs to be thin, and it needs to have solid battery life. That means we won’t be seeing an octo-core monster of an iPad tomorrow. It’s not that it’s not possible, but Apple would have to sacrifice thinness and battery life. Not going to happen.
So, anyways, what will happen:
The iPad HD
-Dual Core A5X Chip with improved graphics processing
-“Retina Display” (Double-resolution from iPad 2; virtually print-like)
-Improved front and rear camera
-The exact same design as the iPad 2
…and that’s about it. Expect some new app demos and a lot of talk about how much money they’ve made with iOS devices. Maybe a new case. And that’s about all on the iPad front. It’s all about the Retina Display this year.
1080p Apple TV
-This seems really likely. The stock of the current model has run completely dry. And the invitation, referring to something to “see” and “touch”: I’m guessing the Apple TV is the “see.”
-It’ll probably have some new streaming partner (Hulu?), but the long-rumored Apple-streaming service isn’t going to happen yet (or if it does, it’ll just be ABC). The Cable companies and Networks want nothing to do with Apple.
Buttons and more buttons
-It would be very un-Apple like, but I want to see Apple innovate with buttons. The iPad as a touch-screen only device is amazing. But having used a third-party iPad keyboard case over the last week, I’ve come to embrace the iPad as capable of so much more than what most people use it for. So, I’d like to see Apple release its own, amazingly-designed keyboard case (the keyboard dock they released with the first iPad doesn’t cut it by a long shot). A large part of the market that’s been hesitant would then jump onboard, I assure you.
-But what I’d REALLY like to see in the realm of buttons? A game controller. Seriously. This needs to happen. Apple has transformed the game market with its touch-based, easily-accessible, inexpensive garage games. But it could evolve into so much more if developers simply had the option of proper buttons. Then transfer those games to the Apple TV over Airplay… then things really start getting serious.
iOS 6
-All of the obvious upgrades have made their way to iOS: Copy & Paste, tethering, cloud syncing… there aren’t any features that we nerds are clamoring for. And that’s what makes the next version of iOS potentially exciting. It’s a chance for Apple to take the software into a direction that we’re not expecting, instead of checking things off of the expected feature list.
Updated Mac Pro
-Pleeeeeease?

Super Smash Bros. Brawl (2008, Nintendo Wii)
I could talk at length about Smash Bros. incredible roster of players, or its extensive set of classic gaming locales in which to play, or its best-of-its kind collection of epically-orchestrated game themes, or the deceptive depth in its initially simple control system.
But when I think of the Smash Bros. series, what I really think about are the marathon sessions with the original, N64 Smash Bros. with Jon Dees and Bryan Granger in their dorm room, or the summer-long Brawl rivalry I had with Robin Hunt (Lucas vs. Pikachu, specifically), or TJ Cofield’s utter frustration at stumbling across a game in which there was zero chance he would be victorious, or the absurdity that resulted from an attempt at a four-player match.
Nintendo may be flirting with irrelevancy, but when it comes to having fun with a group of people in the same room, they still deliver the goods.
I’ve tried and failed several times to write some sort of a send-off to Steve Jobs. My feelings about Steve are complicated, mixed, and often changing. He was hailed as a visionary– a once-in-a-generation sort of figure. He was dismissed as a tempestuous, stubborn, and overly-demanding leader. He was loved, hated, mocked, worshipped.
However, Steve was a private man. We know a lot about the “public” Steve, from his rousing press conferences to his reputation as a stickler for absolute perfection.
Steve’s sister, Mona Simpson, had a bit of a different perspective- different from the pundits, the Silicon Valley insiders, and you and me. The touching, revealing liturgy that she delivered at his memorial service is worth a read, especially if we feel compelled to pass judgment on a guy that none of us really knew.

Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest
The original Donkey Kong Country was the first game that I actually anticipated. I was 9 at the time. Yes, I had played many games before, but I didn’t really know of their existence until they were in my hand after opening a Christmas or birthday present. But by 9, I had found sources of advance information– magazines at bookstores, the Toys-R-Us Thanksgiving Toy Book, etc. And when I saw Donkey Kong Country, my little world was rocked.
A new Donkey Kong game, after all these years? And Donkey Kong is the good guy? And 3D graphics? This can’t be real!
So I saved up my allowance money, and bought my first game. And it was worth it.
But for everything that DKC did well– the beautiful, colorful jungle worlds, the incredible soundtrack, the spot-on platforming mechanics– its legacy is the introduction of a little baseball-cap-wearing monkey by the name of Diddy Kong.

Myst
It would be difficult to explain the appeal of Myst to a kid today.
You stare at an image. You point. You click. The game loads the next image. You’ve taken five steps forward. You look around some more. You point. You click. And so on.
The Point-and-Click adventure has more or less retired to the great keyboard in the sky, but it left its share of classics: Monkey Island, Sam & Max, and The Dig immediately come to mind (you’ll notice that these are all pre-1995). But Myst was the king.
What was so great about Myst? On the surface, there were the jaw-dropping graphics. True, they were merely pre-rendered, low-resolution 3D polygonal scenes that didn’t technically “move”– but they were really pretty. The team at Cyan worlds were skilled artists, and they were way ahead of the curve– crafting hauntingly beautiful and otherworldly environments, ranging from treetop villages to barren ruins to futuristic mecha-topias. At the time, it was revolutionary.
But better than that, Myst was an intensely and addictively challenging. It drops you into a mysterious world and gives you nothing. No clues. No direction. No suggestion as to what to do at all; just the lure of exploration and puzzle-solving.
Myst defeated my young mind with ease. I made my way into three or four of the “ages” (worlds contained within books scattered across an alternate universe) before ultimately succumbing to the endless onslaught of puzzles and mystery. I remember being in awe of the father of one of my best friends at the time– he was an accomplished architect, and a genius by most accounts. Over the course of several months, he made his way through Myst, literally filling entire journals with notes and diagrams of its puzzles (probably the only way to actually beat the game) before finally reaching its end.
Cyan Worlds– now a failing company after unsuccessful attempts to keep the Myst franchise alive– recently released a port of Myst for the iPhone. I’ve been tempted to go back. But I’m pretty sure it would own me again.