Preface: I put this out there raw. It's a bit garbled, and likely something I'll regret. But it is what it is. Maybe I wake and feel this wasn't me, maybe wish we hadn't revealed our demons.

Perhaps we're too far gone. Perhaps we're not deserving of redemption.

Why rock the boat? Why piss on their parade? 

Can we get an OUNCE of honesty from ye wicked? 

Virtue is a coward’s weapon, a lie. Lightweight, so much so even the soft handed debutante wields it ceremoniously. Virtue is easily manufactured, a cheap and effective weapon in our modern cultural blood sport. The endless legions march with superior moral superiorities as they impose their will.

Righteous anger has its place in this world.

But the great battles of true consequence are fought in secret within the secluded refuge of our own minds. We are at war with ourselves. The marching barking from all sides. Be they angel, or be they demon?

The overwhelming madness unwind from inner turmoil. Manifests at the scale humanity.

Truth, blinks from existence in a white hash flash: the assault on our minds begun. The offenses bombard, the ground upheaves, and our bearings spill to the nether. 

What is true? What is good? Where even is north, above, below as our bodies hurtle through the chaos? Does it matter? We’re trying to survive this mad world.

We believe the smile, we believe the soft inflection, we follow the herd, we trust in the norm. And we have good reason to. We’re only human. We trust in our tribe, we trust that those who came before must know how to survive. We trust that those in their positions of power have important knowledge to impart. That they have suffered the storms, that they have fought great battles, and bled much blood, and they have earned their influence in this world.

It’s only the strong, and the awkward with nothing to lose who can indulge in truth.

But sometimes you gotta remind yourself that most people have those firewalls up, they're living in the Utopia, they're still bright eyed and bushy tailed doing what they know will make everyone happy and enable everyone to get along.

The harsh realities of the world, for better and for worse have been purified from our world.

Does this thread make me an asshole? Absolutely it does, and I'm fine with that. And to go even further, I will even say that I may be blinded by my own self serving delusions and blinders, we all play the game in this strange human existance. But here's the difference, I don't find others discussing these nuances and self incriminating truths elsewhere, and this is where I feel emboldened. A great deal of this world feels shallow.

Does anyone truly believe in anything? Does anyone stand for anything? Does anyone sacrifice for these supposed strong, and noble beliefs we have been bombarded with for oh so very long?

We busy ourselves about the rat race, distract ourselves from this painfully obvious lie all about is.

I had an angry father. The smallest of infractions would send him into a rage. Booze, heavy drugs, music blaring till midnight every night.

As a child, I was terrified of anger, it was petulant and barbaric.

I was perfectly content staying silent, letting the sunshine and rainbows do their thing around me at the start of things. But as I've gotten older I started to notice that these negative qualities weren't missing in others, they just kept them secret, even to themselves. And from this springs the grand machine of madness.

Well forged metals don't rust to ruin in an instant, they decompose slowly,  their luster changes color, the grunge accumulates in corners. It happens so slowly you don't even see the change, in your mind it's still the grand, wonderous protective utility forged for your protection by the hard, caloused hands of your forebearers. And those who know no better are told of it's enduring strength, it's purpose, and this is what they take in, this decay is the new normal.

The pillars are awash in bubbling seas warmed by affirmations, heavy with salty judgement, soured by endless shmoozing. But to the taste it's sickening sweet. It's sticky, it find it's way into every nook and cranny and it corrodes and corrodes. It has consumed everything. 

Syrupy, it hardens jagged and brittle, beads up and lacquers all it touches with a bitter-sweet funk.

We drown in whirl-pooling swells of rancid kindness.

"Think different" we used to say. Put your neck on the line, push the line, challenge convention. Be brave. Be radical. Be a god damned American and stand the fuck up for something. Though by and large we rats busied about, we tended the machines, we spun the wheels, there was a healthy level of rebellion we accepted in our lives. Not the destructive sort, the necessary spirit of freedom, to stand up for what we believe in, to tell the institutions to go fuck themselves. To do things OUR way.

FUCK THE MAN.

FUCK THE SYSTEM.

Now it's dressed up in lipstick and puts on a Sunday dress and we're all told everything is hunky dory. Censorship is necessary when it silences YOUR critics. Predjudice and selective hiring is fine when it's against Nazis, when it's against bigots, when it's against the crazed and vindictive.

And who decides? The "pure of heart", the "wondrously accepting and always nice and always smiling". The infallible, the enlightened, the affirmed, the cocksure, the coddled, the underhanded, the weak, the petty.

Anything that's worth anything in this sophomoric world is born from the pulp of those who go against the grain, whose bodies spin to chaff against the wheels, by those who throw a middle finger to the machine and get to doing what they know to be true.

Tempered by maturity.

We live in a world where everyone is so deathly afraid to be targeted by the cult. Year on year we invest more of ourselves to the madness. And we smile, and we grovel, and we shake our pitch forks in unison, RABBLE, RABBLE! We take all the accountability, all the spite, all the just anger we should be distributing amongst ourselves, amongst our friends, family, and colleagues, we ball it up and we hurl it against the bogeyman in our minds. And we pander and we chatter, and we affirm, and we bend over backwards for one another. We coddle. 

Endless self serving empathy.

No character built, nothing sacrificed, nothing earned. A soft parade marching ever onward towards the nothing.

There are worse things in this world than to be outcast. To be gatekept, to be shut from these sickly sweet tides.

We have our purpose, we have a future. We stood for something for once in our life. We knew the grand SeaCrit and now it's revealing itself to all.

This is a phase, it will pass. The blood moon waxes, the sickly tides ebb. As the sun sets, the beds are soiled, and now they must lay in it.

We have seen the world where the wicked is untempered, where the spoiled rot and fester. 

A corrupt tree bringeth evil fruit

I've been doing these blogs for several years now, and I don't think I've ever done a deep dive on our own elephant in the room. Though it might be obvious to some who share the frustrations this industry has taken, as I approach the release of this demo, the people who read this blog who do not share my world view, and who do not see the faults of the machine are going to see this as some sort of horrific window into a depraved mind. 

This is a small industry, word gets around, if you're on the right team is a constant consideration, and as such, over the years I've abandoned all pretenses of civil discourse. After how petty and vindictive this industry has become, I figured, "fuck 'em."

But as they say, "In the land of eye for an eye, we are all blind." Someone has to be the bigger man. And we sure as hell can't expect this industry to change.

I've touched on this in prior threads, we are all the victims of circumstance. We are all binded by the bubbles and caves in which we reside. A great deal of this industry tries to keep their heads down and just wants to be left alone, they want to make good games, they want to make a paycheck for an honest day's work, they want to keep the peace, but in that bubble all are corrupted.

Have I been too harsh? Have I painted this industry as a bunch of whiney petulant babies of no value, who lay around and scratch backs and never put out work?

Absolutely I have. But please try to understand my perspective as someone who has lived and breathed this hard work for over a decade now, who has sought continuously for a lifeline while the world just kicked and kicked and kicked us into the dirt.

I will attempt to take my share of accountability here.

At least I'm fucking honest, At least i'll fucking say it like it is in an attempt to right things. "Hey, your zippers down you idiot." Better than letting them walk around like an goof  ball all day.

I've made my own poor life choices, I've never been the best shmoozer, never fit in with the growing balls of back scratchers and socialites. I've always just been the nerdy quiet guy that just wanted to make good games. You'd like to think there'd be a place for people like me in this industry, but only if you play the game, only if your scratch the egos and play into the ego tribe and shmooze and turn blind eyes and feed the bodies of others into the machine.

If I'd gotten into coding at a younger age I think none of this would happen, I stumbled down the road of art for most my proffesional career and that's a far more cliquey type situation. It's so crazy how tiny little decsions you randomly make along the way of like has huge impacts. Who you know, the sorts of social advice you're given, if you learn how to play the game, or if you're just born a master of it.

This is our lot in life. To be the sniveling, whiny, troll on the hill, all shortcomings under the microscope, all good qualities forgotten, that's how the judgemental tribes work. All others are the sum total of all negative things they've ever done. 

That's just how it is for now.

At the very least it's put a fire under us. It's given us a purpose, given us a quest we can't ignore. Redeam ourselves before we snuff it. Fight the every encroaching hordes of smarm fuck.

Better angry than helpless.

This sultry dance, between the meek and the decadent has entranced us all. Angre is the fire in which respect is earned, it’s where the wheat is sorted from the chaff, it’s where judgement compels us to better.

All that is good, all that is true, all that is bled and waters the fields in this mad world, stems from the root of righteous indignation.

Greatness has never been born of cowardice. Never grew from coddeled origin. It doesn’t jerk in a circle and sing Kumbaya.

Elbow grease is an oil and it does not mix into the seas of salted affirmation.

We do not fit into this industry, and for a time, that gutted me,I begged an pleaded for this industry to give me a chance, to give me a shot, and after many failed years I got my shot. The disillusion was immediate and lasting. There were no thoughtful gatekeepers, no method to the madness. Just another rat race. Just another clique of see no evil hear no evil. Smile and not, show on time, kiss the right people’s asses. None of it matters, no one gives a damn. No one is there to push the envelope, no one shows to inspire others to push themselves to the limits, no one is there to bleed for greatness.

Just friends and acquaintances who want to make their paychecks so they can go out for a night on the town on occasion and enjoy this cooshy blip of existence. The past doesn’t matter, the future doesn’t matter, all that matters is enjoying the here and now as much as possible, sacrificing as little as possible. Smiles and back scratches and lowering standards are on the menu.

Time and again I had hoped I could catch a break in this industry, I worked and slaved in an idiot attempt to show value. But there’s the rub. People only see value in the hollow gestures. Nothing outside the paltry politics, the political posturings, the building of bridges and sustaining of lifelines means a damned thing.

This industry doesn’t build games any longer. It builds vapid social clubs.It’s steered by the most self serving, it’s populated by the most easily exploitable. In this vile union, our ethic, our ambitions, our sanity has bled to nothing, it has wound past the barren fields and spills to salt the oceans.

I’ve grown apart from this world, and while many would think that it is I that have wasted away, and decayed and fallen from grace, and while until recently I would have agreed with them, I now wonder if it’s the reverse is true.

Few value the measure of a life in party favors and , by time squandered, by 

I’m wrestling with this post, how do we close this out? What path do we choose? How does this SeaCrit end? Do we rot everlasting, thirsting for the approval of society at large, for a chance to be in their good graces and circles as we awkwardly sought when we were bright eyed and bushy tailed?

I don’t even know what this world is any more. I don’t know who anyone is any more. No one has the stones, or the will to say it like it is. And so we coast through this sophomoric life of lies and empty nothings. We send one another gifts we bought on amazon amounting to an hour of our work we spend on some accounting document somewhere. We regurgitate the hollow pleasantries, how do you do?

It’s normal to watch people fade away. It’s normal to turn blind eyes, to buy into the big lies.What good is family? What good are awkward old friends? What good are people who don’t share our self serving values?

I’m fucking different, it’s why I was never able to thrive in this industry. I’m not going to backscratch someone I find to be utterly incompetent. If the project is set for abject failure, I’m going to do everything in my power to right the ship. My entire life I was told I didn’t care, I was told that I’m an ass.

No shit heads, YOU don’t fucking care.

This blog is not going as I had intended. Honestly I try not to think about this stuff, it’s just painful. We have enough distractions.

I don’t know if this is principle, petulance, or just self destruction to act as I do. I probably shouldn’t take things so personally. We are not responsible for the madness and stupidity of the world…

… that’s where they’re wrong. We are ALL responsible for this world. And the lack of honor, the lack of decency, the lack of giving a damn has manifested from most fucking all of us.

Call me a fucking asshole, call me a bigot, call me troll, or just a cautionary tale.What’s it matter?

Born in the wrong era. Born in the era of the smarm fuck, of the reach around, of the hollow smile, of the soft parade.

So this is the path we’ve chosen I suppose. Bitter, self destructive, resentful, alone.

Can you honestly fucking blame me?

Wish I could go back in time. Wish I could not throw so much of my life and dignity away to alcohol. Wish I could just take a deep breath in the world place and not take things so seriously, wish I could have gotten out of my shell at an earlier age and learned to play the game a bit better. Wish I coulda spent more time building bridges rather than burning them. Wish I could shout into my idiot ear the truth of how fucking stupid and petty this world is and not to get your hopes up.

All these years I waxed poetic about how we were better here, not petty, trying for something better and this is how we act… maybe there isn’t any difference between me and all those “smarm fucks”. Maybe the only difference is that i’m an awkward asshole better left behind after all. I don’t want any pity, I at least have enough self respect for that.

I’ll end with this thought. We’re not “victims” of circumstance, we just live different experiences. I can sit here and spin this crazed narrative about how we weren’t given a shot or this or that, but the truth of the matter is we’re an awkward, angry fuck who must atone of who  they are. Other people don’t have to deal with our bullshit, they shouldn’t have to deal with our bullshit.

We’re all alone in this crazed world, we’ll put on a face, we;ll put on a smile for those who will help us advance in our careers, for those who will bring us the good times and the fun moments.

These are just the times we live in.

Anyhow. This is my last post for a while. I don’t know what purpose this blog serves any more but a personal pity party or means for me to spread my misery to those who don’t deserve any of my whiny bullshit.

I’m sorry this is how it all played out. Sorry this is who we turned out to be in the end, a whiney, petulant, spiteful loser.

Some of you reading this gave a damn a lot longer than you should have, and some of you know people I haven’t been in contact with in ages and I hope you’ll tell them that I hope they’re well and that I’m sorry things went down as they did, that’s on me 100%.

We don’t ask for our callings in life, don’t ask to be petulant, bitter losers, but we can’t escape reality, no matter how painful. It’s only fair that if I’m going to call out the world of back scratching smarm fucks, I gotta take my lumps too. For all I know I’m not even good at making video games. For all I know this blog is the biggest fucking joke in the universe.

Life’s a crazy road. It’s regrettable this is how things unfolded, it’s no one’s fault, things just kinda went this way over time. For a time a had an amazing group of friends in you guys and I’ll never forget that, but we’re all given different callings, and this is mine and it requires me to be a bitter and angry and a really fucking shitty friend.

I don’t blame anyone for how things went down. I brought this on myself over letting the luck in my life get the best of me.

I want you guys to know that the old jeff is still down there, but I’m to have any chance of any redemption after all this self destruction I gotta double down. I gotta go deeper into the cave and throw what little humanity i’ve got left into this project.

Wish it wasn’t like this, wish I’d fit into this world a bit better and coulda been a positive memory and not some sour note of regret. But I have been blessed with a rare opportunity to slave and fight for what I believe in, and though I don’t enjoy the day to day niceties and comradre most of you enjoy out in the rat race. Friends, belonging, honest pay, dignity, I’ve carved out this little nook where at least we can keep up the fight, where we can keep a modest fire alive.

It was bittersweet hearing from old friends and family of late, but it kinda opened old wounds. And I know this is silly. I know i’m just an old face in others’ stories with fun adventures and the usual get togethers and travels and enjoyments of a life well lived that most everyone should be afforded in this life.

But as evidenced by this blog I’ve put the blame for my shortcomings at the world at large.

In another time I think we would have been fine, could have earned a living performing a craft, had a group of lasting and dear friends. Could have gotten my act together and put together a more conventional family where no one had to be ashamed to know me.

But these are the mad times we are living in. These are the mad standards by which the vapid and shallow dictate the rules.

There I go again putting off the blame.

Time for me to get back to work in SeaCrit. I’ll blather again when we get our shit together, when we get this demo done. When we have something worth putting out there besides our hurtful rages.

I’m sorry.

Edit: At the risk of smashing what I felt was our somewhat perfectly pitiable blog post, which I was actually proud of how embarassing it was (is that even possible?) I've decided to update this blog. For one, because we can't help but run our mouth, and for two, because I don't want to be disingenuous, and I don't want to cut the knife too deep. Yesterday I wanted to cause pain to myself and others, as a sniveling child would, but today we're better than that, I'll probably peck at this off and on as we try to honor our oath here and not write more blog posts.

Holy shit what a blather though! I'm TOTALLY ruining it with this light hearted banter, but yesterday I felt possesed . As I typed the bitching and moaning just FLOWED and coming back to revise it, it wasn't nearly as mish mashed as I expected. I'll do a little clean up. It feels wrong in a way to edit this post, it really was raw and real when I typed it up, but there are some blemishes. 

I had so much pent up that I guess I just needed to get out there, so many notions I was too embarrassed to say that I just let it out. Embarrassing? Sure, who whatever, IT'S MY BLOG I"LL HAVE A PITTY PARTY IF I WANT TO M*THER FUCKERS. Are we THAT much of an awkward loser? Sometimes, depends on the situation. I like to think I'm a pretty chill dude when i'm in my element if a bit of a snarky know it all. But enough about that!

We have our good days, we have our bad days. 

Though we go through a roller-coaster ride of emotion, and some days we tear up and reflect on the bad, the sun has come and gone, it is a new day, and there will be new dawns. Maybe some day in the distant future we will meet with old friends and we'll have crazed talks about these mad times!

Didn't feel right to finish a blog ode to anger with a sniveling pitty party, so we're adding an addendum. In the spirit of the defense of anger, what better way than to speak to the source of it all? That son of a bitch who gave me that dastardly chromosome... whY!?

Under the surface of all these blogs, has been that steady rumination of anger, of contention, of throwing fits and raging against how silly everything is. And some of that is for entertainment, and part of that is simply the persona of the IllTemperedTuna we have adopted, but truth be told, we didn't adopt the monicker by accident. We absolutely have a bit more rage, fight in us, passion, whatever you want to call it! And this has been a point of contention my entire life. Try as I might to hide it, working with a bunch of smarm fuck dip shits at some point you reach a breaking point and you leap out the burning building. Come to think of it... who started that fire?

 Just ramblin' some thought provoking nonesense. What's true? What's embellished to make a better blog entry? And what's simply our delusion? That's the spice of life. And 90% of what you take in wouldn't be in your brain if it wasn't expedited and trimmed to begin with. Keep that in mind when you slit others throats.

ANYWHO! On with the blog.

I Never had the best relationship with my old man. When he was sober he'd complain endlessly about everything all the damn time: His health, his boss, politics. It was never ending. Just bitch, bitch bitch. It wasn't a good look, in fact I remember thinking it strange how few friends he had, and as I grew up I came to realize what few he did were all dealers. 

Fast forward 20 years and the only time he ever really took interest in me or wanted to do anything was when he getting up there in years and we didn't have the best relationship. I remember he put a lot of effort into inviting me to a Jethro Tull concert.

I blew it off.

Careful the resentments you cast. You will grow into them.

I've had a strange relationship with anger over the years. And I know that those who are new to it, those who have never stewed in it, or reached a breaking point it's a demonic force that must be purged from society. It's barbaric, we've grown past a need for such archaic lowly attributes.

I will not say that SeaCrit was purely forged of spite. Some days we swing the hammer with optimism, some days with regret. But we swing the hardest when we're clawing back to the light. I will also say DO NOT go out of your way to manufacture anger, one of my great regrets is that SeaCrit has been made in such conditions, there is no reason this game could not have been made in a softer light.

But to those of you down on your luck, who glance a crazed and judgemental world about you, who feel down on your luck and abandoned and all you have is the bitterness, all have have is burning fire...

If you can temper your spite, if you can harness it as fuel, a slow burn that singes none but yourself, while not becoming consumed by it, it will ignite in your veins, it will fire your aspirations and imagination, and it will push you to beyond the brink, evermore into the breach. Though your body collapse, and your mind crumble, the hot embers will slow-burn the midnight oil.

This blog is dedicated to my old man, who first blasted hot jams at 1 am in the morning, which is now the life blood of SeaCrit.