My #GamerGate Story

(Reposted with permission from http://mindlesszombiestudios.com/content/gamergate-davids-story )

You know the kind of guy you see walking down the alley? His eyes scan you momentarily, the only facial feature responding in any way to its environment? The kind of guy you stand a bit taller in the face of despite his slouch, to show the woman you’re walking with there’s a protector on the scene? Well, if you stopped and took the time to get to know me…

…you’d have even less answers than before.

I was born David Stanley Carr, and I’ll seek no amendment to that. A handle is made for the handler, not the case. It is my interpretation that any identity dependent on acceptance is an affectation. We are who we are.

My earliest memories pretty much all revolve around video games or pop culture in some respect or another. The very earliest I refer to as my “chipmunk dream”, where Chip and Dale say goodbye to a departing friend they’ll never see again. I arose wailing in my crib, inconsolable. My grandparents were absolutely bewildered.

Then one of the first things that jump out is playing Zaxxon at my pseudo-cousin Melanie’s. I was so enamored of video gaming that my mother got me a pinball machine for my next birthday, as in her eyes at the time they were essentially the same thing. I was very excited initially, but I think mom was disappointed at the quick drop off in play. Then one night while she and her beau dragged me to a dinner party, I discovered The Legend of Zelda in their friend’s basement, which was a fair approximation of a dungeon to my young mind. A perfect moment? Yeah, nearly.

I got my own first console as a distraction from my stepfather when my mother had an aneurysm. I was all of 5, and of course completely bewildered. I was plunked down before a flickering screen and told to go to town on the first Super Mario brothers game, for the 8 bit Nintendo Entertainment System. While I don’t recall connecting to the story in any particular way that first day, the improvement through repetition somehow functioned as its own reward until I could. The library began to grow.

The game changer, for me, was Chrono Trigger. I hooked my stereo up to my tv, and showed it off to mom and the next stepdad, touting video game music as better than most pop of the day. I’m relatively sure the SNES was a Christmas gift, but those years aren’t recalled as clearly as the previous. Emotional content plays a large part.

Eventually my mother’s relationship with that guy went stale, and she decided to leave me with him. Predictably enough I was on the street not too long after that.

I made friends with a down and out couple named Tracy and Brian, some of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. They took me in, offered me a base from which to start rebuilding. Dad financed a shot at Herzing Institute of Computer Programming, and I was one question shy of acing the entrance exam.

A few weeks later I got hit by the taxi.

A knock on the door distracted me and Tracy from some discussion or other one fateful night. A friendly stranger told us that Brian had tried to slide down the banister at the 24 hour grocery story and broken his leg pretty badly. They kindly gave us a lift over, Tracy got in the ambulance with him, and I started walking to the hospital. I was obviously distracted. I didn’t make it.

I awoke to a catheter, breathing tubes, whole nine. I tried to yank the catheter. Note in case it ever comes up; *DO NOT DO THAT*.

24 hour coma. Two skull cracks. Two lesions on the brain, left frontal. Shattered sinuses. I was months in just basic recovery, first at my mother’s apartment, then back at the house she’d initially left me at. My province of Quebec pays out somewhat to victims of road trauma without resorting to litigation; my first cheque brought a PS1, and Gran Turismo. Only real racing game I could ever stomach, and I only half-jokingly credit being half-brained when I “met” it. It got me through the first stage, until I could read with some basic cadence again. Then I think FF7 grabbed my attention and didn’t let go. Wow. What a game.

I financed an apartment for myself and three gamer friends upon leaving mom’s. We rolled dice, we gathered around the console… Hell, we’d go out and LARP werewolf if the mood was right. Of course there were other activities we engaged in that I give partial credit to for my level of recovery, but this is a story about gaming, and gaming gets a large slice too.

The doctors had missed two very important things; a contrecoup injury to my right temporal lobe (which in hindsight must have been the source of my seizure while in the coma, and the two I experienced subsequently) and some rather severe post traumatic stress. Wasn’t the first time I’d been thrown by a big metal bull; Christmas Eve 1992 my whole family got hit by a drunk driver while we took a second sleigh ride around the block, minutes from midnight.

I did some time around 2001 or so, for having been busted with 1900 marijuana plants, of which I think 1200 survived til the trial. If they hadn’t transferred me to the easy going wing with the N64 I don’t think I’d have survived until my appeal came through, two and a half months into a sixteen (?) month sentence.

In the intervening years my mind has changed significantly, to the point that at least four psychotic periods can be identified. The centrally affected mechanic, my going from staunch 18 year old atheist to being personally tapped in my own experience, is not in the large an easy or enjoyable process. I’m the third David down from a stranger who showed up in Newfoundland by the name of Absolom Purchase, as best I can reconstruct. The pun on my distaff line is even cruder. While I cannot deny my perceptions… what exactly am I supposed to do about that? I keep playing. I stay distracted. I try not to think about it, unless I’m so high the honor seems more profound than the burden is heavy, and considering the state of the world today? There’s not enough weed in it.

Game stories held my fading attention. Game mechanics exercised my traumatized brain. Games damned near resurrected me. All my friends, I connect to through games. And do you know why I’m not out there forcing MY agenda down YOUR throat?

The sprites WANT my help. That’s why.

(PS; Patent US#6630507. Tell your friends.)

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Mental Note

Unique and oblique,

as it’s ever arrived,

the favor of fortune

makes of itself a tithe

and while fools of the day

may sneer at their luck,

their daughters and sons

will pass trend over buck.

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In The Beginning

(For entertainment purposes only. I’m allowed to take this seriously. If you do, fuck right off.)

So greetings, I’m the Wunderbred
you may have heard so much about
and if you’ve done your homework,
maybe you think you’d best go without
but hear me; I’ve a mindset that’s
presenting rather Hippocratic
and while I’ve seen my share of caves
these days I live the life Socratic

You ask me if I’ve come to shake
the pillars upon which you rest?
I say it’s time for context, here;
Whose interest are they serving best?
So maybe grab a latte, light a stick
or just scoot up real close
and let me tell you all about
my meeting with a Holy Ghost.

Fallen to despair again,
among the doodles made arcane
and buried behind all our eyes
to surface in a broken brain
I wondered why no lightning struck
to punish seekers kin to fools
If maybe Nietsche had a point
why we were forced to find new tools

I toiled against the emptiness
and failed to call from darkness light
I knew a solitude so deep
it could enfeeble even sight
and taken to the lowest care
I found that I had common cause
ESPECIALLY with the least of us,
and even as we shared our flaws.

It was in this rejected flock
That I first heard the world had changed;
the Intern Terrorist was found,
his trophy corpse finally claimed.
One last nail was placed along
the rim of the Good Father’s box
And faith in anything but gold
became a social paradox.

That’s when I knew that we were wrong
That’s where I took a sharp left turn
If no God claims us by Creation,
I thought, here’s one we can earn
This is where the line gets blurry
This is where translation fails
But let’s just say a Voice spoke up
and offered wind to fill those sails.

Now a few more years have passed,
I’ve let the system plod along
I think I’m on my way to something
Heaven’s promise growing strong
At least, that’s what it seems to me
Of course, my think-meat might be shot
But still, Utopics float my boat
and what I’m bringing bears all thought

So now might be a discrete time
to help you find some salient terms.
With Algorhythmics up above,
Heuristics make for burnout worms.
All things one, Dimension His
Divide by three the giant’s parts
This sets the stage where time begins
Ex ist, of this, the fun part starts.

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Constitution of Arkadia, first draft.

Article 1

Let three things be held invaluable and priceless; Human life, Human health, and Human knowledge.

Therefore shall no actuating numerical or quantitative value be assigned to their social worth, but all efforts to improve their quality shall be bolstered by the full support of every available numerical and quantifiable system and resource under the management of qualified administrators.

Let every citizen be considered the ultimate authority on their personal health and knowledge. Let this right of self determination be granted upon reception of citizenship and only be revoked in cases of extreme danger to self or others presented by conclusively displayable deficiency in resolution management, and let philosophical defenses be admissible in any case lacking charges of violence.

 

 

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CT and MRI Scans

CT; http://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0B1wdaaN4UATOUVZUNXN4YWt1bGc&usp=sharing

 

MRI; http://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0B1wdaaN4UATORDg4MEE2RkJQZTA&usp=sharing

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Neuropsych assessment

I think it’s some pretty interesting stuff.

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Three minutes to midnight, I’m lying in bed
My mind rolls on steady like the clouds overhead
No rest for the weary, no respite for the tired
I am counting my wrinkles, and the scars I’ve acquired

Two strokes and the day will be lost in the past
another fresh canvas; again, it won’t last
no matter the damning, the pleading to stay,
the current flows onward; the last fades away

One minute remains til the echo grows still
Time knows no obstacle, yields to no will
From now on my world is forever askew,
For I would rather die, yet go on without you.

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A Fork In The Road

The bloodlines fall through time as comets into atmosphere. They fragment and coalesce, dancing and spinning, uniting to present as a gentle rain as air friction robs them of their spin. Where the droplets strike the stone, they splash into life, rising and racing, straining to find the sky once more. The reeds slow their ascent , all but a few, and find comfort in the shade their brethren throw. These scions of Life, these monarchs in the making grow strong against the raging storms, the sweltering drought. They shed the trappings of youth and steel themselves against winter’s deadly kiss; they survive, they thrive, and with spring throw their seed across the ever changing winds. Soon, they grow prideful. Under bark and bough they hoard their treasure. They grow wealthy. They bear fruit. 

 

Through the reeds they find their way. Across the waters they writhe, they wind. In the depths they slither. Even into the boughs they creep, eying the skies with slow calculation. Their sibilant hiss ever present, they whisper seductively of deadly opportunity. Their secrets put life to death and bring it back again. They bring judgement. They are wise.

 

Life and knowledge. The choice will ever be yours.

 

 

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New Text Document

A- ladder;  path/tool

B-tension; lure/repulsion

C-subjective; incomplete intel

D-Broken cycle; de-naturalized natural state

E-measure; *

F-immeasurable; ungrounded

G-effort; effect through diligence

H-partnership; components equal

I-mastery; supremacy of flow

J-edit; post-term modification

K-strike; *

L-profit; effective gain

M-mass; *

N-seed; regrowth

O-whole cycle; natural state

P-potential; future gain

Q-marked cycle; basic knowledge

R-result; predictive relation

S-redirect; reversal of flow

T-sacrifice; accepted loss

U-transient; temporary

V-hand; *

W-choice; multiple outcomes

X-crossroads; temporary union

Y-convergence; permanent union

Z-interval/delay; end-to-beginning

 

Words interpreted in spiral fashion, center outwards, ending with the last letter.

Have fun.

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