It seemed strange that a character in the game sounded so much like my wife. Also, my character had just looked at her watch, and it was way after 1. And there wasn’t anyone else in the room.

“Did you hear me?”

The surround sound on this game is great, too. It sounds like that voice is coming from right behind me. I turn my character around, but don’t see anything. Kinda creepy.

Then it dawns on me, and I press Start, and turn around.

This is the effect Heavy Rain has on me. The story in this game is that gripping, compelling. It propels you forward naturally, the pacing keeping you engaged without overwhelming. This game has the highest production quality of any game I can recall playing. I’ve seen the phrase interactive movie thrown around here and there over the years, but Heavy Rain turns that on its head; it is not a movie; it is doing things with storytelling that a movie can’t do, for a number of reasons. It’s not a visual novel either, because it is far more than a series of cinematic sequences with decision points. Rather, we have something entirely new here, and it is an ambitious and compelling idea.

I have been known to opine that a great piece of art is one that plays to the strengths of its medium. A great novel uses the written word to convey something that can only be conveyed with writing. Certain combinations of words have great effect on the reader, in a way that the same scene in a movie might miss entirely. Literature has the advantage of narration; a voice that can drive the story in ways that are unique to the form, and great stories capitalize on this.

A great movie, on the other hand, uses the fact that it is a visual medium to convey powerful emotional content that would feel flat in writing. Lighting, facial expression, and tone of voice can be evocative in a movie like they never could in writing. Plays have their own framework, and they are at their best when they exploit this fact. Ditto music, painting, and other artistic forms.

Heavy Rain is the first game that I have encountered that takes this approach with a video game. It is treating the game as a work of art, and not simply an entertaining way to kill time. Sure, other games have stories and beautifully rendered scenery. They have characters that portray emotion, sometimes. But Heavy Rain uses the canvas of video games to tell a story in a unique way; you couldn’t copy this story to movie or novel form without losing, or at least changing, something important.

Traditional games, even ones with great stories, are hampered by a number of problems. One is the tendency for this pattern to emerge:

1. Plot (cutscene, dialogue tree, etc)
2. Gameplay (random battles, shooting bad guys)
3. Goto 1.

In Heavy Rain, the plot and gameplay are intertwined inextricably, and the gameplay doesn’t devolve into the usual video game tropes of, well, killing Bad Guys. It’s more nuanced than that, and you observe a story unfolding in which your actions have real consequences, both minor and major, and in both the short and long term.

It’s been obvious to me for a long time that video games could potentially be art, evoke a broad range of real human emotion in the player, and deal with deep themes without resorting to ham-fisted tropes or dulling the emotional experience with tons of unrelated gameplay between evocative scenes. Heavy Rain is the first time I’ve seen this potential realized.

I played through the trial run of Eve Online. It worked without much complaint in wine. Let’s look at the things I think are cool about Eve Online, and the problems and realizations that came from the trial.

Okay, the star map. I could spend hours just playing with the gorram star map. Coloring systems by various data, playing with routes… the star map makes me feel like I’m in an Asimov novel. This hits my geek spot so very very hard.

The scale of the game is immense. 4500 star systems. Something to do in every one of them. It’s mind-boggling, and it’s easy to feel lost in the vast cloud of stars. Which is a good thing, for me.

The setting is really cool. The whole concept of capsuleers – transhumanist sociopaths, small gods reigning death on lesser humans – is really cool. The fact that you play as one is the surprising part. And NPCs even make reference to the fact that your ‘kind’ have a reputation for callousness. Very well executed.

In theory, I love the PvP/corporation/territorial battle aspects of Eve. Player-run corporations can control star systems. That’s amazing. In fact, it is the single coolest thing the game has to offer. If VO could find a way to implement sector/system sovereignty, it would be a better game (I believe this is being worked on).

Eve has a HUGE player base. There are human players in pretty much every system I pass through. However, while the player base is huge, I find myself rarely interacting with them. Which is fine, in that it is realistic enough; I have no real reason to talk to these pilots at this time. But it makes me realize that VO’s absence of a huge player base isn’t as much of a deal breaker as I thought.

I like that Eve’s economy is thoroughly player-driven. Vendetta feels contrived; sure, prices fluctuate as you move commodities from one port to another, but a station isn’t relying on players for a shipment of actual, usable goods, like weapons and ships. The economy in Eve is easily the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in a video game. The fact that it works is almost unbelievable.

Eve has some graphical and performance issues, and it isn’t really any prettier than Vendetta Online on my hardware. This is annoying, because Eve looks and runs better in Windows. That’s a HUGE point in Vendetta’s favor; Linux compatibility is very important to me.

Combat in Eve can be boring at times. Theoretically it’s a more tactical approach, but PvE comes down to:

1. Click enemy.
2. Click “Lock”
3. Press F1
4. Wait until enemy is dead

You might need to toggle some shield hardeners or armor repair modules, or run away to repair/reload. But that’s about it for the entry-level PvE. Now, granted, PvP is another deal altogether, and I’m sure the combat in PvE gets more nuanced. The presence of tons of options (weapons, shields, add-ons, upgrades, ‘rigs’) is really cool, too, if a bit overwhelming.

In contrast, VO’s combat is immediate, twitch-based, and immensely rewarding. It is also a lot harder for me, but I relish the challenge. In my two-week trial of Eve, I didn’t lose a single ship. In Vendetta, blowing up happens every day. Of course, it isn’t as big a deal either.

Vendetta’s limited options with weapons and ships makes it easy to build a balanced, meaningful loadout. It also has a really good variety of different ship types (light/medium/heavy fighter, transport, bomber) without having an overwhelming number of options.

I think that, in the end, VO is more my style. It is better suited to casual play. It has a more open attitude (native Linux client, client plugins are encouraged, very open source-style release model). The public chat channel makes the game’s community very accessible; you can ask questions or just chat, and it makes the whole experience feel like hanging out on IRC (but with more explosions).

Eve Online has a lot of things that I want in a game, but it’s not quite casual-friendly enough for me. If Vendetta takes some cues from Eve in terms of the broader features, it will turn into a damned fine game. As it is, it’s enough fun to justify paying for it.

The biggest problem, by a long shot, is the player base. 60 players seems to be the absolute upper bound at any given time, at least while I’ve been playing. This is abysmal for an MMOG; there are FPS games that support larger numbers of players at a time. I might even be happy with this player base, if they did anything other than hang out in Sedina B8 PvPing. It doesn’t really feel like an MMO at this point, it has the feeling of a social dogfighting game.

A lot of noobs seem to appear, play for a few weeks, and vanish. I can see why. The player base seems a little cliquish, though not overly much. But you get the feeling that Veterans will always be Veterans, reminiscing about the glory days, and noobs will always be noobs, struggling to make a few credits in the face of vastly more experienced and skilled pirates. Of course, that’s when you find pirates at all. I’ve flown across have the game’s universe trading and never been pirated. Like I said in my previous post, it’s a ghost galaxy.

The numerous buggy things and realism-breakers are a turn-off, too. Capships in convoys don’t carry any cargo, so they’re worthless to both escorts (who get a “share of the profits” for their pay) and pirates. The cargo is simply an unlimited stream of widgets moving back and forth across the universe, with no great purpose in life. The convoy missions don’t always work, either; I’ve had several simply fail to end, giving me nothing and forcing me to abort the mission.

There is not a lot of variety in missions. After playing through the few available mission trees, the missions are all one of a few boilerplate missions. Fly out, kill some stuff, you’re done. Take this here, bring that back. Mine for lots of foo, get paid. Nothing more elaborate than that, which is disappointing.

I’m not cancelling my subscription yet. I’m giving the game a little more time to impress me. But at the same time, I’m going to try out Eve Online. You see, the MMO bug has hit me, and now I want a large, persistent universe full of people that I can fight with, trade with, and just generally game alongside. The space theme is more appealing to me than fantasy MMOs have ever been (fantasy has been done to death, is what it comes down to).

As far as roleplaying backstory goes, the science in Eve is surprisingly non-squishy, with a lot of modern scifi concepts making an appearance: quantum entaglement-based FTL communication, consciousness hot-backups, etc. Sure, the spectre of “jumpgates” (replace with “wormholes” at leisure) makes an appearance, but I can accept some foils for the sake of the story.

While I love twitch-based gameplay, I am a lot better at tactical/strategic combat. I think on my feet pretty well, but my reflexes suck pretty hard. I would probably find the combat in Eve more enjoyable, as a result.

If you ignore the combat layer, Eve has a lot of awesome features that would make VO great: player-owned systems, player-run economics (the materials you trade actually seem to come from a player at some point), and player-designed ships. All of these could have an analogue in VO, and if features like these were present, I would probably enjoy VO a lot more.

Of course, there’s also Jumpgate: Evolution. It’ll be interesting to check that out when it launches. We’ll see.

I love space shooters. Put me in a cockpit and give me 3 dimensions of unfettered movement, and I may as well be in Valhalla. Combat is secondary; fighting in space is fun, but just the feeling of (pretending to) pilot through the stars, skirting around asteroids, and maneuvering into docking bays is intoxicating to me. The chance to do so with other people in a persistent world is something I can’t pass up.

The space flight in VO is a very solid balance of realism vs playability. Contrast Vega Strike, which focuses on realism to a fault. In Vega Strike, it often takes upwards of 15 seconds to maneuver your craft into position for each attack run on an enemy. Also, to disengage your engines you have to throttle all the way down, and to turn without having your engines engaged you have to press a special key.

Vendetta Online, on the other hand, operates in a more enjoyable way; you only apply thrust for as long as you keep pressing one of your thrusters. When you stop thrusting, you maintain your current velocity until you thrust again. This lets you reorient your ship without changing your vector, which is very useful for targeting objects, getting a visual on enemy craft, etc. It also feels very intuitive and realistic (whether it really is realistic or not is irrelevant, see below). Moreover, you can apply thrust in 6 directions; forward or backward along the 3 primary axes (relative to your ship’s current orientation). The game controls refer to left (+y), right (-y), up (+z), and down (-z) as strafing, while forward (+x) is accelerate and backward (-x) is decelerate.

Having the ability to thrust in any direction is useful and fun, but it isn’t very realistic (well, not with the ships looking the way they do; a ship that could do that would need thrusters all over the place). This is where the fun > realism design mentality comes into play, and frankly it makes for a very fun game. Another unrealistic design decision is the existence of a maximum velocity. Sure, you could make some sci-fi sounding arguments for it, but honestly it’s a balancing mechanic, plain and simple. And in my opinion, there’s nothing wrong with that.

The game world is vast; 30 systems with 64 sectors in each system (a system is a 16×16 grid of sectors). Each sector is “theoretically infinite” in size, although all of the interesting stuff is centered about the sector’s origin; after a few kilometers you find a whole lot of nothing that goes on forever. To get between sectors you can set a destination and ‘jump’ there. Likewise, to get between systems you go to special sectors that have wormhole areas, and you ‘jump’ while in one of these.

The game’s main RPG element (and I mean RPG-esque mechanics, not actual roleplaying) comes in the form of licenses. These are like a combination of level and skills in most MMOs. There are 5 licenses: combat, light & heavy weapons, trading, and mining. As you perform the eponymous activities, the skills increase. When they level up, you gain access to new ships, weapons, and missions. But the game remains primarily skill-based; in the hands of an incompetent pilot, the better ships aren’t that much better. I am afraid that I’m a testament to this fact.

The game isn’t perfect, though, and as long as I’m writing something like a review I’ll have to point out a few flaws. I hate to have to do this to you, Vendetta, but it’s for your own good. This will hurt me more than it hurts you.

The game world is big, like I said before. However, the player base is small. VO runs entirely in one instance, and you could easily fly across the galaxy and not meet another player. There are, on average, only 30 – 40 players online. This is alleviated a little by the fact that there is a cohesive world-wide chat, so communicating with the other players is easy.

I don’t know if there are more people on at other times of the day (I tend to play any time between 22:00 and 06:00 UTC) or if this is a low point for the year (more players during the summer?). Maybe the game is just old, and has lost most of its player base to attrition. At any rate, it feels like a ghost galaxy sometimes. I want to populate this world, to convince everyone I know to play and invade the VO universe en masse.

The other flaws in the game are fairly minor. You can only take one mission at a time, and many missions are automatically aborted (and thus failed) if you log out mid-mission. A network hiccup can destroy an hour of work (or more for mission trees that require you to start all the way over if you fail any mission in them).

In-system jumps and wormholes look the same. A more spectacular graphic for wormholes would be really cool, but on the other hand, the in-universe explanation for wormholes makes the modest special effects make enough sense.

There is also a stat called “grid” that weapons have but don’t explain. It refers to the total amount of power connected devices on your ship can use (i.e. the “power grid”). It’s kind of like a maximum voltage, and you can only use 20 grid per ship, although this is not explained anywhere. It’s not important until you get access to some pretty hefty ships, but it would be good to know about it, at least.

Other than these and similar minor nitpicks, the game is tons of fun and I foresee myself playing it for a long time. There is a free 8-hours-of-play-time trial available. My character’s name is Gjalfr. See you there.

While I was off not paying attention, it seems that almost all of my predictions have come true. An open-source server for running a simulator and/or grid, OpenSim, has been created. OpenSim appears to have solved many of the problems, and implemented many of the predictions, of my post from 2006.

One “problem” that remains, though, is economy.

The problem I outlined in my original post was that without a robust permissions scheme, economy would break down. Looking back, this seems terribly unlike me. Even in 2006, I had a strong dislike for anything that reeked of Digital Rights Management (DRM) even for the me that wrote that post. The permissions scheme employed by Second Life, after all, is just a DRM scheme. Like all DRM, it attempts to keep the user from using the things they purchase the way they would like, and like all DRM it is ultimately futile.

Economy on a Closed Grid

On the Second Life grid, you use real money to purchase virtual goods, which might have any of a number of permissions associated with them (modify, copy, and transfer). This permissions scheme is enforced by the fact that Second Life’s grid is a walled garden; Linden Labs controls the asset server, so your data all exists in their hands. They safeguard it, preventing nefarious users from copying your creations.

Except, not really.

Like all DRM, this scheme just plain can’t work. It can’t. It violates information theory. It is mathematically impossible to give something to someone and then keep them from having it. This is a corollary to the Law of Cake. I will elaborate.

For the Second Life viewer (aka client software) to render the object, it needs a copy of the object. This copy is necessarily sufficient to reproduce the object. Since any viewer that can speak the protocol can connect to Second Life, all you have to do is create a viewer that copies the object data being sent to it.

In fact, exactly such a viewer has been written. Linden Labs responded to this viewer’s existence by appealing to their Terms of Service. Whenever a user is caught using CopyBot, they are banned from Second Life.

In other words, there is no technical solution, only a social/legal one. This is because DRM is fundamentally flawed; it is trying to achieve the impossible.

Even without CopyBot, you could just decode cached objects from the official viewer’s data cache. Programs have also been created which do this as well, although they are harder to use than the infamous CopyBot.

The point of all this is that the assumption that the Walled Garden protects your Intellectual Property is simply false. As with the rest of the Internet, piracy is a given. Anyone creating and distributing content on the web must start with that assumption.

Economy on an Open Grid

I haven’t explored OpenSim enough to determine whether it supports any sort of monetary transaction, but let us assume that it does. In other words, assume that you can, via direct credit card payments or via a virtual currency, purchase virtual goods. Even if you can’t do this yet, I have little doubt that OpenSim will support it eventually.

Now, let us further assume that I connect to OSGrid via a region that I run myself. This means that I control my own asset server, where my inventory resides. If I purchase an object with restrictive permissions on another region, a copy of that object will be transferred to my asset server, where I can simply log in via mysql and change the permissions. Now, I can create multiple copies of this object, or give a copy to someone else.

What I have done here is to defeat DRM, just like CopyBot. It’s considerably easier, and much harder to detect. However, in practice this is no less secure to the Intellectual Property owner than Second Life’s walled garden. It still requires a reasonable level of competence (running your own grid/sim) to exploit, so piracy is likely to be similar in rate. Of course, the open metaverse has no Terms of Service (although individual grids/regions within the metaverse may). But the technical merits are the same; when looking at the threat of piracy, the open grid has the same basic properties as the closed grid.

Of course, even without our own asset server, we could still use the same techniques to copy data that I described for the closed grid. CopyBot and copying assets out of cache work identically on an OpenSim grid.

Not a problem

Okay, so the economy “problem” isn’t really a problem, just a fact of life. In the words of the OpenSim folks:

[The existence of piracy] is the kernel of the belief that open grids are hopeless for a virtual-goods economy. DRM discussion aside, maybe they are hopeless. But then, everyone thought the web was hopeless for selling music, and look at the success of iTunes in spite of all the piracy that still exists out there.

I am not proposing that piracy is good in any way, merely describing how it is inevitable. You simply cannot restrict how users will use the things you buy. You can’t keep someone from copying digital data, if they are determined enough to do it. You can use restrictive terms of service and try to sue or press charges, but there will never be a technological solution.

So, to current and potential content creators shying away from the open grids: piracy is an unfortunate fact of life. It will happen. Start with that assumption, and work from there. If this means you don’t want to create digital content, I’m sure the creative community will miss you. If, however, you realize that some people will appreciate your work enough to pay for it, without worrying about the details, then you are in the company of some fine artists.

Get it here.

I’m lifting my moratorium on D&D 4e, as well. This means that d20tools will eventually support 4e creatures. However, this is a huge undertaking, and I have to decide how best to handle it. I’m leaning towards a system that will allow anyone to write system templates; then, any gaming system could be plugged in, theoretically. In practice, this is a lot of work for a single developer, so I wouldn’t anticipate this happening any time soon.

The netjatafl server (taflserv) operates on a simple, completely open protocol; it will eventually support authenticated logins and statistics tracking. Anyone could write a netjatafl client for any platform, if they wished. My clients will all be in C++, because this let’s me reuse the ‘libboardgame’ library, which contains the game logic used by the server. I will also build in a “capabilities” system at some point, so the client and server can both advertise which games they support.

The whole thing is theoretically usable in its current state; the client is an ncurses-based text UI that is pretty cumbersome, but can be used. As far as I know, it only works in Linux. Anyone who wants to cross-compile it for Windows and send me a patch with everything you had to add, feel free! I will eventually add a proper GUI, probably gtk+-based.

Like the sound of this project? Feel free to check out the code, compile it, and let me know what you think!

Etymology notes: netjatafl is Old Norse for “net-table”; i.e. a networked table you can gather around to play games. ‘taflbordh’ is ON for ‘tafl board’ (tafl can also refer to tafl games in general), which sounds a little redundant, but it made a nice name for a client. And ‘taflserv’ is just ‘tafl server’… ‘serv’ was meant to be short for ‘server’, but I later noticed that it’s also a French word meaning ‘it serves”. I find this somewhat appropriate.

Recently, I pondered a fairly simple question: which of these games is the most complex?  All of them are complex enough that new players have room to become stronger over time.  Skill in these games has been traditionally praised as a virtue by each game’s culture of origin.  So, which game provides the greatest depth as a topic of study?

Before I consider the differences in the level of complexity of these games, let’s look at how a few basic elements of the games compare.  This will give us a fuller understanding of the factors that contribute to the games’ complexity.

Symmetry

Chess and Go have in common that they are symmetric games – both players have the same resources at their disposal, and seek the same goal.  In chess, the pieces for each player are arranged similarly at the start of the board, and each player tries to capture the other player’s king.  In Go, the board begins empty of pieces, and capturing territory is the goal for both players.  In both of these games, neither player has a handicap evenly matched opponents will have an equal chance of winning.

Tafl, on the other hand, is asymmetric.  One player, the defender, controls a king and his bodyguards, and tries to flee to one of the corners of the board.  His pieces begin the game arranged in the board’s center.  The attacker, on the other hand, has his pieces along the four sides of the board.  He also outnumbers the defender 2-1.  Tafl also favors the defender; if two equally skilled players play each other, the defender is nearly guaranteed victory.

Board Size

Tafl and chess are played on fairly small boards – 8×8 for chess, and anywhere from 7×7 to 13×13 for tafl.  The most common tafl board sizes appear to be 9×9 (Tablut) and 11×11 (Hnefatafl).  I will be contemplating a hnefatafl board here, because that is the size on which I most commonly play.

Go, on the other hand, is played on a 19×19 board. This means that, in general, far more moves are possible at any given time in Go.

Spaces vs Intersections

While we’re talking about boards, I will pause briefly to discuss spaces and intersections.  In Go, your pieces are played on the intersections of the lines.  In tafl and chess, your pieces reside in the spaces, or squares, between the lines.  This fundamentally makes no difference at all.  You could make a grid of 8×8 intersections instead of 8×8 spaces, and play chess on it.  It would feel unnatural, perhaps, but only because you would be accustomed to the other convention.  Likewise, you could play Go on a board of 19×19 spaces.  In fact, some variants of tafl were played on a grid of intersections, such as Alea Evangelii, a tafl game played on a 19×19 board (you could, in other words, use a modern Go board to play Alea Evangelii).

Capturing

Go requires a player to surround an opponent’s stones and ‘cut him off’ from all open spaces.  Capturing, however, is not the point of the game, only a strategic element.  This is also fundamentally true of tafl and chess; the ultimate goal is to surround the king; the capturing move is not strictly necessary.  Tafl’s capture rules are less straightforward than chess; you must ‘flank’ an opponent’s piece (place your pieces on opposite, orthogonal sides of the opposing piece) to capture it.  The king must be surrounded on all four sides (in most variants).

Construction vs Destruction

In chess and tafl, players begin the game with all of their pieces in place; pieces can be captured, but new pieces will never be added to the board.  In a sense, they are destructive games; the forms which are in play at the beginning can change and be eliminated, but nothing new ever appears in play.

By contrast, Go is a constructive game.  The board begins completely barren; players add pieces until the board is full of pieces surrounding empty territories.  Pieces can be captured, but the overall trend during play is toward a fuller board.

Complexity

So, how do these games compare to each other in terms of strategic complexity?  Go has a lot going for it in terms of complexity.  First, it is played on a large board, meaning there will always be more moves to consider.  In addition, the constructive nature of the game means it is legal to play in nearly any open space at any time.  This means that the number of possible moves in Go will always be much greater than the other two games.

Additionally, the strategic elements within Go are extremely intricate.  Opening moves can impact the later game dramatically, and individual ‘battles’ (sequences of moves on a small section of the board) have countless patterns and scenarios that players must be comfortable with.  Capturing an opponent’s stones isn’t always a good idea; often, nothing prevents your opponent from immediately capturing even more of your stones (and thus gaining territory) in return.

By stark contrast, chess and tafl have a fairly small number of legal moves.  For example, in chess, there are only 20 possible moves on the first play.  The average number of possible moves for a given chess game is something in the range of 32.  Tafl provides more possibilities than chess, even with fewer pieces; since all tafl pieces can move any number of spaces orthogonally, the attacker (who plays first) has 116 possible opening moves.  The defender’s first move has 120 possibilities.  Go, by comparison, has 361 possible opening moves.

In terms of capture rules, it is not clear to me whether tafl’s capture mechanics, which are more involved than those of chess, make the game simpler or more complex than chess’ straightforward captures.  In chess, the capture rules require you to keep track of more information, since each piece has a more complex influence on holding territory.  Go, however, is the clear winner here as well, as capturing can be extremely intricate – often when trying to capture a group, you may limit your own liberties and end up being captured yourself.  A significant portion of the game’s strategy involves creating arrangements of stones that cannot be captured.

Ultimately, my observations and subjective experience suggest that Go is the most complex of these games.  It has an amazing number of possible permutations, and a very simple ruleset that nevertheless lends itself to an immense number of factors that must be considered.

Between chess and tafl, the numbers seem to favor tafl.  The asymmetry,  larger board, and larger number of possible moves seem to make it more sophisticated.  However, as long as the game is skewed in favor of the defender, the complexity may mean very little in the end.  Mostly from subjective experience, I would estimate that tafl is the more numerically complex game, but this experience may be skewed by the fact that so many of the possible moves in chess have been so well mapped. The complexity of tafl also depends heavily on the specific tafl game and board size. Even subjectively, I can’t come to any real conclusion here.

It might void the warranty, it might put my life at risk or potentially damage the thing I’ve purchased, but it is my right as a consumer.

Nintendo takes a different view on the issue.  Owners of the Wii have long been able to employ a simple buffer overflow exploit in Twilight Princess to run custom code.  This exploit, called the Twilight Hack, allows a user to install, among other things, an application called the Homebrew Channel, which looks like any other Wii channel and lets you run other custom code without using the Twilight Hack again.  It’s the gaming console equivalent of installing a new stereo in your car.

Since the hack was made public, Nintendo has been trying to thwart it.  They have, to date, released three firmware updates that included code targeted to stop the Twilight Hack.  The most recent update succeeded at stopping it completely – it appears to detect the hacked save files and delete them, both on boot and whenever you insert an SD card.

So, all of this is standard fare.  Whenever a console launches, homebrewers will make it run custom code.  The console manufacturer will release an update to prevent this.  The homebrewers will work around it.  This process will continue in an escalating cycle.

However, Nintendo has delivered a low blow here.  Along with the System Menu 3.4 update, they changed their terms of service.

Now, that’s pretty cold – deleting our custom software?  Come on Nintendo, all I want to do is play videos on my Wii!  Also, the first time a fully automated background firmware update breaks something, the angry calls are going to pour like rain.  Power outage in the middle of a night-time firmware update?  Too bad!  But it gets worse…

Okay, at this point I feel it is crucial to point out a couple of things.  First, these quotes come from two documents, the Wii Network Service Privacy Policy and the Wii Network Service EULA.  Both of these documents are required, not to use the Wii in general, but to use the Wiiconnect24 services (the Shop channel, Nintendo channel, and Nintendo’s other online content channels).  So, to use their network, you agree that they may disable your system completely.  This means two things:

1. You can perfectly legally run hacked code on a Wii that does not use Wiiconnect24.

2. You grant Nintendo the right to break the law (destruction of private property) if you choose to use the Wiiconnect24 service.

Now, according to a lawyer I know, a contract cannot override criminal law, even if signed in full knowledge as opposed to clicked-through (the enforceability of click-through EULAs is still up for debate in the US).  So this clause is, by necessity, unenforceable.

So why is it there?  Nintendo has a juggernaut legal team, famed for its ruthlessness.  They can bankrupt any individual consumer with the legal proceedings necessary to challenge them, and it is unlikely that this will raise enough stink to get a class-action suit started.

I used to have some respect for Nintendo.

To that end, I’ve been thinking about how Second Life could be successfully decentralized, without adversely affecting the experience that everyone has come to know and love. I’ve identified key elements of the user experience that would be difficult to decentralize, and possible ways to handle them. First, though, we’ll talk about the basics; how could decentralization even work.

First, LL releases the code for the Second Life server. Now, anyone who wants to can host a Second Life sim/sims of their own on a server. A central repository would keep track of the existing sims, in a vaguely similar fashion to DNS (see The Grid, below). This would allow Second Life to grow without bound, with sims run by a multitude of companies and even home users.

So, how do we keep that Second Life experience without the centralized monolith of Linden Labs?

Economy
First and most importantly, the Second Life economy must be preserved. The economy has become the most crucial element to the experience; the ability to use real money, diluted down to a virtual quantum, to purchase other users’ custom created content. This breaks down into two sub-problems:

a) Managing the money. The most likely way to do this would be to set up a “bank”, wherein a single host (or several different hosts) manages all of the banking transactions. I’m thinking basically a system like paypal, where you buy L$ (“Linden Dollars”, Second Life’s currency) from the bank, or sell $L back to the bank for real currency. Each SL server would use this central bank system to check a user’s account balance, and make withdrawals/deposits, with proper confirmation on the part of the user, naturally. A public/private key system to ensure the user actually sent the confirmation could prevent abuse here, so no worries on that score. The SL bank could even be controlled by Linden Labs, as this would be a lot easier to handle than the entire grid, and still give them opportunity to have a strong stake in their creation.

b) Protecting Intellectual Property. This is a tricky problem, and the single hardest element to decentralizing SL. Since a huge portion of the money in SL is traded for users’ creations, there must be a way to prevent them from being stolen. Under a decentralized scheme, when a user rezzes an object on a sim, all the data for that object (textures, sounds, scripts) would necessarily be available to the owner of that sim. The most obvious solution I can find for this is to keep the object data elsewhere, and have a rezzed object be a pointer to that data. The advantage is that compiled scripts, raw texture data, and sound files stay on a secure server independent of their rezzed location. But where is this mystical server? I see two options here: either the data is on another sim, perhaps the user’s “home sim” (see User Accounts, below), or the data is in a central “asset server” (essentially the way SL works right now). Using the former approach, the client would have to make tons of connections to different servers to get all the data. Under the latter, the asset server would have to be extremely load-tolerant and robust, and all the data is stored by the same group of people, whose ethical integrity the SL user base would have to trust implicitly. Since both of these are flaws in the *existing* Second Life system, however, it is acceptable for the hypothetical exercise we’re attempting here. Also, under either system the sim owner’s creations could be stored on-sim for lower lag.

One other solution would be to create some DRM scheme that encrypts this data until it reaches the client. Of course, in all of these cases the client could be modified to steal the data. However, here we again reach the fact that these flaws are already inherent in SL, and there’s no easy way around them.

The Grid
The ability to bring up a map and scroll around, or teleport instantly to another part of the world, is an exciting part of SL, and another crucial part of the SL experience. Fortunately, the Internet already has a great system that we can build on – DNS and hyperlinking. We simply define 2 kinds of link: “landmarks” and “neighbors”. Each sim can have 4 neighbors, and neighbors must mutually agree to be neighbors (for a neighboring to work between sim A and B, A would have to set B as a neighbor and vice versa). The neighboring agreements would be stored in a central server system, modelled on DNS. A few recursive calls to this system and each sim can cache a portion of the overall grid map. Want a private island? Simply don’t neighbor your sim with any others. This creates user-level “peering agreements” that could create a more logical terrain (snowy areas linked together, etc) even if the landscape does shift from time to time.

The other kind of link would work just like landmarks in the current SL system. Pretty self-explanatory, except this system would make “click to teleport” objects a necessity, finally.

If a user searches for a sim on the map, the client can grab that sim’s cache of neighbors, and display more of the grid. The client could be configured to keep any amount of that information cached locally, for a more immersive experience.

User Accounts
There are two ways to handle user accounts: a centralized account server, or a sim-based account system. Under a centralized server, all accounts would be handled by, say, LL. This simplifies the system greatly, and aids in managing the asset server. With “home sims”, you’d have a system similar to Jabber, where user accounts are essentially user@home_sim. I believe the centralized system will work best, given that the asset server system seems to be the most logical way to do things.

Instant Messages
Well, LL is currently planning to re-implement the IM system in Jabber, so we’re pretty much covered there :P

So, in summary, we have a system that uses a centralized server for accounts and user-created assets, as well as a DNS-like neighboring system to create the world map, but grids are controlled by individuals, and hosted by companies just like web servers are now.