I’ve never known much about Mr. Jeff Bridges, but this morning I ran across a “JeffBridgesism", indexed on ffffound.com:

It says:

While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles. Now, while doing this, draw the number “6″ in the air with your right hand. Your foot will change direction, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Well, Jeff Bridges. I’ll admit, you frustrated me for about forty-five seconds with your little game. For that, I’ll never forgive you.

Of course, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DRAW THE NUMBER SIX STARTING AT THE TOP RIGHT. You can go backwards, and complete this task just fine. Take that, Lebowski! It seems there is, in fact, something I “can do about it".

I may not have full control over my limbs, but I can still outsmart you.

In any craft, there are key skills you must develop to be considered proficient. One of those skills that has eluded me is finding the most effective compromise between promise and delivery.

With Commerce Unread, I wanted to release it unannounced - ie: no promotional blog posts, no preliminary screenshots, etc. …but after working on the game for several weeks, I wanted to show some folks that I hadn’t been spending my days fruitlessly. Then, August went by.

I’m still chewing on this damn project. Video game releases have the characteristic of being “pushed back” unpredictably, and now I understand why: It’s simply a symptom of code and concept blossoming in complexity.

There’s so much nuance to these things that, as a developer, you’re almost obligated to rely on convention to accomplish anything in a reasonable time frame. …and convention is deceptively alluring - it’s often something you have to resist in order to accomplish something substantial. As a result, once again, you have time vs quality.

Eventually, I’d like to grow into the kind of guy who exercises a great deal of restraint in the promise stage of creative work. For example - There’s a lot to admire about Chef Richard Blais of Trail-Blais in Kennesaw, Georgia, but perhaps it’s most relevant to examine his characteristic of under-promising and over-delivering.

Here’s what he does: He continually uses deceptive understatement in his work as a reliable device for creating mystery, and ultimately, scope.

In his menus, the descriptions of his dishes are completely simplified, his dishes are clean and strictly minimal. The mastery, you see, is extracted from view. You’re left to wonder, and the work (in combination with the mystery) evokes something greater than you could possibly have anticipated.

Boom bang. It’s foolproof, assuming you’re not the type of fool who caves to panic or insecurity in the face of glaring silence. …which I am.

See Also:
Example Blais Menu
- From the Amateur Gourmet. Review by Adam Roberts

Commerce Unread’s Empty Promotion Page
- Here, on this site.

“Creative Restraint and Responsibility”
- An Essay by Mark Tribe Christopher Reiger.

Eugene: “Commerce Unread”

Denver: Girlfriend’s parents, friends,
Baseball (Rockies:8 Nationals:2)

Las Vegas: 14 Minutes at the Luxor, -$100.00

Eugene: “Commerce Unread", Coffee,
The Jackyard = 50k DLs

Missoula: Bass Lake, Family

Eugene: “Commerce Unread", Coffee

Seattle: Friends, Rain, Breakfast
Baseball (Mariners:1 Athletics:5)

Eugene: “Commerce Unread", Coffee, Coffee,
Fiction, Margaritas, Brutus,
Football (Ducks:44 Huskies:10)

Sorry about this pointless, self-involved post, but August 2008 was the best month of my entire life, and I feel compelled to express it.

Yesterday, I enjoyed what might be considered the Colorado Experience, reduced to fit in a gift basket.

Miraculously, John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High” swam into our car through radio static, and we experienced this song as perhaps it was truly intended: While high up in the mountains between Denver and Vail. Later, we went to a Rockies game during a thunderstorm.

The rest was more immediate. Earlier in the week, we sat hot in the dessert, drinking iced coffee and talking about the complexity of illegal Mexican immigration. The academic situation that the children of immigrants are faced with is an important component of the dilemma, which I didn’t understand until recently.

On this trip, I saw Jenny dance as a young child, in old home movies. Her mom then brought out the tiny dresses which that little girl wore in the tapes.

My friend Troy played homecooked recordings of his and his brother’s songs, and we sipped beers in pouring rain.

His son Kyam played The Jackyard on a laptop outside at night, unable to tell the difference between the night ambience around him and the night ambience in the game. Maybe that’s the best way to play it - on the grass under stars, being sung to by a cricket ensemble.

We’re flying home tonight. Denver International Airport is like a small city.