Luddite Rage

By S. Craig Taylor, Jr.
September 1, 2003

Lost Battalion Games is the third start-up gaming company with which I have been associated and is the one most dependent on technology. The internet is approximately where telephone technology was at the turn of the last century and we are essentially an internet company. For reasons that I cannot fathom, I have never been interested in or comfortable with technology. To be honest, telephones make me nervous, too. One of my grandfathers was involved in early aviation technology, including the founding of U. S. Air in 1939, when it was called All-American Aviation and picked up and delivered air mail in a daredevil manner without the benefit of landing strips. My other grandfather was always the first on the block to own the newest thing. This included one of the earliest television sets, which was the size of an SUV and had a picture screen not much larger than a playing card. He later upgraded this advanced technology by bolting the mightiest magnifying glass in Christendom to it, making the picture look larger so you didn’t have to sit so close that the radiation would give you a tan. My father was a communications officer in the Air Force’s Strategic Air Command and was always handling the latest electronic and mass destruction technology. I started college when computers were the size of convenience stores and an engineering student had to own and know how to use a slide rule with blurring speed and enough accuracy to prevent bridges from collapsing for at least five years. As far as technology is concerned, nature decided to skip a generation, i. e., me.

As a result of what I can only regard as this unaccountable gap in my DNA (believe me, I wish I knew who to sue), I have been forced to rely on those who are more technologically gifted than me here at Lost Battalion Games. Take Jeff, for instance; he understands the difference between computer hardware, computer software and septic tank pumps, plus he knows more ways to make a computer crash or seize up really good than anyone else I know. Becky knows the difference between various art programs and types of images and knows exactly how much time she can use to mow the lawn while waiting for the computer to belch out the goodies (I believe that is the correct technical term). Debbie understands how to retrieve online orders and can read the itty-bitty type on Jeff’s spread sheets. “Katrina” can draw and scan and scares me when she’s wearing those boots. Although I have stopped asking, “What is that glowing box-thingie,” I no longer think that the mouse is supposed to be used to engross the cat and now realize that a sound card does not talk about me behind my back; a computer is still little more than a glorified typewriter to me. Even better, ever since the “What will happen to that nearly complete deck of cards if I push this button incident,” I have been encouraged to work remotely, out of my home, a great deal of the time (almost all of the time, really).

Staying home gives me more time to work on and acquire the games themselves, which is good and to write things, like this article, which is bad, but such is life. Going to the workplace, I realize that, as our distant ancestors parked themselves in darkened caves and painted the walls, modern workers are parked in darkened offices drawing on computers. Besides, when I go in, my “office” is a large plastic box from Office Depot, or, as it is better known, my “corner productivity zone.”

When I am at headquarters and they can’t get me to leave, we often hold long boring meetings about building the business and other related busy work. This calls for a fusion of my low-tech skills and long experience in the gaming industry with everyone else’s technological skills. Recently, we were trying to develop a “company statement” or “corporate vision” to guide our course into the future. Working on something like this is guaranteed to make any group of people seem dysfunctional. I suggested, “A wet bird never flies at night,” but this was briskly brushed aside in favor of, “Thin the herd,” and then, the even more nonsensical (but high-tech), “An opportunity synergies paradigm will benchmark incentives focus.” Did any of that inspire you? It didn’t inspire us either, so we finally settled on: “We do what the voices in Craig’s head command!” You know, I think we are finally getting somewhere!

And now for something completely different. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the After Action Report Contest and judged Matt Gardner’s entry to be the winner. Jeff is sending Matt the customized prize as revealed in this e-mail exchange:

Matt,
I will be sending you an Operation Uranus RTP and I will put your favorite card on a T-Shirt for winning the AAR contest. Let me know which card and shirt size. Thanks.

Jeff Billings

Hi Jeff,
That’s awesome! This is such a cool contest prize. Shirt size is XL, and I really like “Cross of Iron” from 9th Panzer.

Matthew Gardner

As you might gather from this exchange, we now have the capability to do customized T-Shirts featuring favorite cards from BATTLELINES . See the details elsewhere on this site.