Glitch – A Quick Retrospective

There’s no lack of reviews of dead games on this site. Deceive Inc is on life support. Crowfall went offline for “future planning” multiple years ago at this point. Crimesight wasn’t a live service game, but got taken offline anyway, because the world is stupid.

Glitch is a little different than those games because it went offline almost 13 years ago. It was a weird little browser MMO with (almost) no combat, and a sort of friendly Hieronymus Bosch vibe. You hatched pigs from eggs, which you grew on eggplant trees, and stumbled around the dreams of giants.

But that’s not what really separated Glitch from all of those other games. What separates Glitch is its long term impact on the world. Not via its mechanics, gameplay, design, or aesthetics, but because while Glitch was being made, its creators also made an internal communication tool for the project.

That was tool was called Slack.

I don’t know if there’s actually some sort of deep irony in one of the few attempts to build a really weird, interesting, peaceful MMO led to the creation of one of the most bland pieces of business software ever to exist. Something about it seems a bit bullshit.

Still, when so many live-service games just vanish and die, it’s nice to see that Glitch has some form of legacy, even if its legacy is completely disconnected from the game itself.

As I found myself being forced to use Slack this morning, I also found myself thinking back to Glitch: to weird landscapes, trying to grow trees, and fights with crows. To a smaller, nicer thing, that not enough people (including me!) paid for, and it died.

Anywayyyy, back to work.

A Visit to Capital Pinball

Something I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned on this blog is that I love pinball. At the same time, I’m also bad enough at pinball that I’ve never really considered reviewing a table.

That said, my brother has gotten really into pinball over the last few months, so when he invited me down to Capital Pinball in Concord NH, I jumped at the chance to hang out and spend the day just playing a bunch of different tables.

Anyway, that’s how I ended up at Capital Pinball.

Location:
70 Pembroke Road
Concord, NH 03301

Price:
$15 per person per day, no additional fee for any table.
$50 for a monthly membership. (I believe members have 24 hour access to the venue, with the expectation of being good stewards of the space.)

Hours:
Fridays 6pm-10pm and Publicly Posted events
Note: It’s probably a good idea to double check the hours!

The Venue

Capital Pinball is perhaps the only pinball place I’ve ever been to that I’d describe as cozy. The building it’s located in feels like a Phasmaphobia map, or maybe HL2’s Nova Prospect. Despite that, the actual room for Capital Pinball is lovely, with a few comfy chairs, and a set of fairy lights strung around the room so that games can be played without glare.

Of course, someplace like that is still only going to be as good as the tables. Fortunately for me, all of the tables are great.

The Tables

Despite not having my personal favorite table (Medieval Madness), I got a chance to play on a bunch of great ones, including my second favorite, Attack from Mars. I like Attack from Mars as a table mostly for how simple it is, being maybe the only self explanatory table I know of.

Attack from Mars was also one of the only two older tables I played while at Capital Pinball, the other being Theatre of Magic.

Most of our time was instead spent on more modern tables, including a Jurassic Park table which I don’t have the exact model of, and Dungeons and Dragons: The Tyrant’s Eye.

The D&D table is actually quite interesting to me, mostly for the ability save your character and campaign progression between games via a phone app. It’s an interesting feature, and while I don’t actually enjoy the table as much as others, I do find it really interesting from a gameplay perspective.

The other two tables we played a bunch of were Jaws, and Avengers: Infinity Quest. While I was a bit leery of Avengers because of the license, it actually turned out be a great table, and I’d like to play it more. I’m more lukewarm on Jaws, not because I think it’s bad, but because I had a hard time parsing what I was supposed to be doing.

Of course, this is less than half of the total number of tables available.

Overall

Capital Pinball was great, and I’d definitely go back. I don’t know that I’d want to go at a particularly busy time, where it might end up feeling a bit cramped, but it was awesome to just to get to grind attempt after attempt on all of these tables, and I’ll probably try to convince a few more friends to come down with me next time.

P.S. My brother tried to start a new game before I could take this photo of me kicking his ass at Attack from Mars, but I got it anyway.

Get dunked on buddy.

Some quick thoughts on AI in the workplace

Or
This is the sort of thing I would put on LinkedIn if I cared at all about LinkedIn

I got an email this morning informing me that I was only using 3 of the 4 AI tools that have been made available to my company at the expected rate, and I would need to begin using the fourth, and my mind immediately went to XKCD 2899.

The idea of tracking AI usage actually makes sense to me, but as a metric, not a target. Tracking it as a target implies to me a certain level of buy in, belief in the assumption that this stuff makes you more productive at your job. And I’m not actually convinced that’s true for me.

Information Sourcing and CYA

My primary issue with AI in a professional setting (please don’t confuse it with my personal opinion) is that it does very little that’s actually useful for me. I can think of one general use for the stuff that I use willingly, and it’s a internal RAG bot.

Why do I like this RAG bot? Simple, it lists all it’s sources, and it’s hooked up in such a way that it’s better at searching our documentation (internal and client facing) then any other tool. But I don’t automatically trust it’s summaries.

I’m working on an internal cross-team project at the moment with a fair number of my co-workers, and I was a bit surprised to see them treating information from this bot fairly credulously.

I like these people. I trust their judgement in their areas of expertise.

But I will walk barefeet across broken glass before I quote a price to customer in the seven fucking figure range for a feature because an AI told me it was accurate without double checking that shit first.

And I suppose this is why I don’t like workplace AI much. If it screws up, (and as of 2025, this stuff DOES screw up) its ass doesn’t get fired. Mine does.

And I do not trust a bunch of rushed to market, hype driven, LLM’s with my personal job security.

So going back to that opening point: I’ll use our AI tools. But for most of them, I’ll be using them because I’m required to, not because they solve a business problem or need I have.

$5 is $5 Dollars

Or “Class Action Lawsuits are Weird”

Earlier today I got an email informing me that I was a member in a class action lawsuit against Gamestop. Technically this wasn’t the first email, but I pretty much ignored the other one.

The actual law being broken has something to do with the VPPA, surrounding disclosure of “video store rental records.” I won’t even pretend to understand it, or why it exists. But it’s a law that’s been around longer then I have, and it seems to have nothing but a technical relationship with the grounds Gamestop was sued on.


The longer I live, the more I find myself wondering if we don’t already live in a dystopia. Sure, it’s not a dystopia for me, but just because you’re closer to the top of the heap doesn’t mean the world isn’t broken.

I’m not exactly dissuaded when I get notices like this.

“Your rights have been violated by a mega-corporation without your knowledge. Please provide information validating your existence, and $5 will be deposited into your account. You may instead elect to receive a $10 voucher to the corporation that performed the violation.”

All it’s lacking to really cross the line into full on cyberpunk territory is an opening that starts with something like “Greetings Citizen!”, and some extra neon.

It’s very rare that I feel like I’m actually living in “the future.” The only real time it’s happened other than this was when I rode in a Tesla a few years back, and saw its self-driving functionality.

This felt like a step in the opposition direction. “Your rights were violated, have a soda” is a far less enjoyable universe than self-driving cars made by a man who seems to want to be a Bond villain.


Anyway, I filled out the survey. $5 is $5.

A Quick Rant on 1 Star Board Game Geek Reviews

A while ago, a friend of mine had just released a game, and was doing what all board game designers (as far as I’m aware) do post game release: stare in frustration at the ratings on Board Game Geek.

The particular source of his frustration was a that the game had been rated with a 1 by someone who clearly didn’t own the game, and couldn’t have possibly played the game at the time. Shortly after he mentioned the whole thing to me.

We quickly discussed various reasons that players will do this, and there was a smattering of the usual ones. Review bombing a game for ideological reasons. Rating a game that is rated “too highly” to bring the score down. Fights or problems with a publisher.

It was at this point that I asked him if he’d just asked this person why they’d given him a 1. He had not.

So messaged them. I’ll be referring to the rater as “Tim.”

Reaching Out

After looking at the profile for a bit, I quickly noticed that it had a very odd distribution of ratings. Virtually all of them were 1’s, with a smattering of 7-10’s, but the 1’s MASSIVELY outweighed the 10’s.

So I messaged Tim, and asked them about their rating system for games. After a brief back and fourth, they responded, and I found their answer surprising.

The Big Surprise

The first thing was that Tim was not a single person, and instead was a group of players who used the account to collaboratively track plays and games for their gaming club.

The second was that when they “rated” a game, they were not rating it based on playing it. They were giving a rating based on how they felt as a group, and if they wanted to order it for the group. So a game that wasn’t bad might receive a 1 for the reason that nobody in the group was interested in trying it. This was especially common for games that the group considered too simple, or didn’t have the right player count.

There’s also one specific quote I want to pull out from their response, that I found quite telling.

Regarding the not yet released (games) – we consider ourselves enough experienced so we do not need to play the game to know that it is not for us – one text or video review is more than enough.

This is not an approach I would ever take, but I appreciated the clarity, and I think it gives insight on why this person had such a high number of low-rated games.

I thanked them for their response, and moved on.

The Takeaways

The general vibe I have gotten from designers when discussing what I’d generally consider to be unusually low ratings is a sense that they’re being targeted in some way or another.

There absolutely are folks in board game spaces who do what I’d call “hateful reviews.” The folks who hate others based on their sexual orientation, gender, race, etc. The whole nine yards. And because they exist in board game spaces, they also exist on Board Game Geek. And they will rate games badly as a way to harass and attack people.

There are also folks who are picky or petty. They’ll rate a game low because a component was damaged. Or because it was rated too highly. Or it was shipped to reviewers before Kickstarter backers. Or any number of a variety of other things that I’d personally consider mundane and irrelevant to the experience of the game.

But I think there is also a third category of folks who are just doing their own thing, and see nothing wrong with rating a game that they do not personally like much as a 1, and moving on.

Does this usually ruin that designer’s day? Yes! Do I have any idea how to fix this problem?

Not a clue.

I don’t think many board game players recognize the impact ratings have on a game, or the folks who make them. At the same time, I’m not sure publishers and designers are interested in asking the less vocal folks who rate games weirdly why they’re doing it, when all available evidence (to them!) labels those folks as hateful or petty.