Occasionally, one Sunday in windy and not very busy, deciding to make a jump to IndieCade, a convention of independent developers that promises to be the event alternate weekends. Sometimes you chat with people more or less well-known video games industry and be invited to a barbecue by a designer with whom my mentor I had been in contact, but I had never met in person. It happens between a burger and a portabella grilled mushroom, look around and find that you are surrounded by developers from Japan, Argentina, Austria, and yes, even away from Iowa. It happens then that the Japanese designer in question is one of the most loved by me and Sterling, one of the few places along our tastes are diametrically opposed when it comes to video games. And it is at that point that something unexpected happens. The designer, called Keita (as indeed do all, as is his name Anagrafe) recognizes Sterling and runs towards him, then he sees me and almost touched. The knowledge goes back a few months ago, when Sterling had met Keita for an interview, but what escapes me is what you are said on that occasion. I find that Sterling has the flat-spotted the touching story (very true, among other things) how it is I that he had reviewed a game before Keita to meet, as if I had to read the article and I thought Sterling that distant and unknown journalist was right on my wavelength. A thin but very long, which, through an ocean and a continent, we see now happily married. Well, Keita story of how his game has helped to unite two people is stuck with for months, maybe even made him reconsider his job in a different light. And this is what struck me today: as a form of entertainment to that of many cold and no soul can hide so much humanity. Like every game we create, that we review, can somehow influence the lives of many, for better or for worse. I will remember this more often when they perform a job unwillingly, perhaps covering the genuine smile of that photo with Keita.
