So many games, so little time!

After yesterday's initial entry it's not only ironic, but probably counterproductive, to carry on blogging. But the rest of you never seem to mind how pointless it all is, so here goes:


One of my all-time favorite books is a work that purports to explain games, but is, in my view, essentially a wonderfully funny look at life, the universe, and everything, a la the late, great Douglas Adams. The book is by Bernard Suits, who is either Canadian or at least teaches there (University of Waterloo, Ontario) at the time this is being written. His excellent little book is entitled, The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia. Let me offer up a quote that establishes Suits'  overall premise (and I'm indebted to whomever typed it so I could borrow it for cutting and pasting it here):


"To play a game is to engage in activity directed towards bringing about a specific state of affairs, using only means permitted by rules, where the rules prohibit more efficient in favor of less efficient means, and where such rules are accepted just because they make possible such activity…playing a game is the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles."


Without trying to paraphrase this definition, let me just say the gist of the book is that "Life" isn't so much a "game" as it is a series of gamelike situations--since most of us can't even remotely begin to agree that "Life" has any particularly purpose and, even if it does, can we possibly suggest any hard and fast "rules" for such an obviously nebulous and often contradictory chain of events? It's been a while since I actually read the book, but I definitely remember that it is filled with gloriously goofy conversations between an industrious ant and a slothful grasshopper (a la Aesop) and that it never makes the mistake of taking itself too seriously. Right, then; so much for the "preamble". Here's where I take you on a few labyrinthine detours to see if you're all human or merely pretending:


Consider, if you will, that Life is Chess, the game of kings. Have you ever heard that, after the game, the King and the Pawn go in the same box? I would have liked for Mr. Suits to have included that wonderful bit of folk wisdom in The Grasshopper, but either he's never come across it, or he didn't see that it might have added to our understanding of his theses. (Great, now my mind is conjuring up Theseus, Minotaurs and Mazes...I get what I pay for when it comes to free association!) *Clearing throat and attempting to get back on track.* Chess. The game of kings. If Life is like a game of chess, who is in charge of the white pieces and who is in charge of the black? OK then, how about Yahtzee? If Life is like rolling 5 dice up to 3 times to get them to land with the same pip(s) facing up...No, no, no, that really won't do either. How about, if Life is like a bowl of cherries...wait, that's not a game! Crap! Life must therefore be whatever we are convinced it is, no matter how much it interferes with whatever anyone else imagines it to be. Frankly, I think we're all just silly humans, for thinking that thinking and self-awareness are such amazing achievements! "I think, therefore I am." Poppycock! Surely we are no more than marionettes, being played for fools by Atropos and her sisters! With but a twitch upon our threads we are danced about until our dance is done. And even if Life's tapestry were somehow revealed to us, would the possibility of some grand pattern ever make up for everything we imagined loomed ahead of us while we were being caught up in the making of it? Hah! But some of you, who are followers of the wise Theseus, have been savvy enough to play out plenty of rope, so that, if you don't hang yourselves with it, you might not lose your way in a labyrinth of someone else's design!