30 August 2009

My Hobby: Graphing Everything.

Including video games. Mostly because I'm curious and a visual person.
The graph is kinda small, so let me explain it. The game is Winterbells, one of my favorite games on the internet: http://www.ferryhalim.com/orisinal/g3/bells.htm

In this game, you are a bunny trying to catch as many bells as you can to the tune of beautiful winter-y music. Each bell is worth ten points more than the previous bell, so your total score looks like this: T=10 (1+2+...+n). I bet there's a better way to express that, but I am not mathematically talented, nor am I particularly mathematically knowledgeable, I'm just curious. Anyways, that's the pink line on the graph, showing a geometric progression (right? wrong?).

Well, every once in a while, there's a bird, and if you catch the bird, your score doubles, but then continues to increase as it did previously. I was curious how much the bird actually helped your score in the grand scheme of things, so I graphed this phenomenon. In the game, birds come along about every 20 bells, but that would be a crazy graph, so I decided to assume that the score is doubled after every five bells. That's the blue line. What a great visual!

Yeah, I'm a nerd. But it's interesting, and I'm very curious! Don't judge.

The end is approaching.

Her mind is young.
Her dreams are vast.
Carelessly, she hums
And sometimes dances
Believing in love,
In changing the world.

But the end of time
Is steadily watching.

She starts at the beginning,
Begins at the start.
Wisely she prepares
And builds a solid foundation,
Her head held high
Through every toil.

But the end of time
Is at her side.
His arm grazes hers,
And she takes his hand.

Moving boldly ahead.
Obstacles are commonplace.
The world refuses to change.
She bites her lip.
They refuse to listen,
But there must be away.

And the end of time
Has embraced her.
He holds her close
And whispers secrets in her ear.
His arms keep her warm
As his breath trickles down her neck.

Even her greatest efforts
Are futile. Nothing changes.
Victories are quickly forgotten.
Trouble still festers over the land.
Tears fade her bright eyes,
Hope begins to vanish.

Now the end of time
Kisses her soft lips.
His slippery tongue enjoys her.
He nibbles her sensitive neck,
Intimately stroking her body,
Sighing and moaning,
As she begins to gasp.
She opens up, giving in.

Her dreams are lost in the past.
She never cries nor laughs:
She's been sad for much too long.
She silences her daughter's hopes
And heartlessly watches
As the world begins to plummet.

For the end of time
Is now inside her.
Like an evil serpent,
He slithers to her heart
And tears it out.
He is inside us all:
In our selfish desires
And paralyzing fears
Deflowering our inner child
So he can bring the world to an end.