The parent is the program itself, the apparatus that gives you the magic. The apparatus helps you author your story. It gives you enough free will to feel like Don Quixote. You relinquish some power, then pretend to subvert the windmill. My solitude is gladdened by this elegant hope.
Labyrinths are a profoundly corrupt game.
Labyrinths are a profoundly corrupt game. In fact, I would like to see more labyrinth games about the corruption itself. But the computer, oddly enough, survives mostly as a highly formalized tool of entertainment, and also the slickest telephone Jules Verne could have imagined. The entire format cries out for a good hatchet across the forehead. As Tristram Tzara said eighty years ago, the world needs an operation.