Think Forward.

How being a parent, a game designer, and a Dungeon Master in D&D all stem from the same skill: worldbuilding. [re-written] 7540

GiANTS game design, 6 mon.
The role of a parent is to be the architect of the world within which their kids grow in, and inevitably grow out of. At least, that's what the experience of fatherhood has been for me, so far. For some, there is an obvious comparison to be made here with the role of a Dungeon Master (DM) in Dungeons and Dragons (D&D). This is a slippery slope that can quickly lead one to certain delusions, so let's nip that in the bud right now: a DM is not a parental figure to their players, a parent shouldn't attempt to control the fate of their children, and a game designer shouldn't be so obsessed as to turn their kids' life into a game. Let's keep those three things compartmentalized while we identify the root from which these roles all stem. The shared element between a game designer, a DM, and a parent is the skill of worldbuilding. But first, for those unfamiliar with the role of a DM or how D&D works, here is a gross over-simplification: D&D is a tabletop role-playing game where players control characters within a world entirely designed by the DM. The DM enforces the laws and nature of the world, as well as narrates consequences of the players' actions, and might control the actions of Non-Player Characters (NPCs), but poses no action in the story. The Players' characters (PCs) have complete agency over their own actions but cannot change the fundamental laws of the universe. So let's take the scenic route first, and explore worldbuilding as a DM. The flexibility and/or rigidity of a DM's rules in a campaign represent the very fabric of reality within the campaign, shaping the environment for the players. I've read fascinating background stories that DMs keep hidden indefinitely from their players, but are intrinsic parts of the campaign that allow the DM to sculpt a solid fabric of reality for their players to adventure in. For example, in one fascinating story that was shared on Reddit, the entire universe is the fabrication of a dying child's mind while in a coma, in which the main villain, an NPC controlled by the DM, is the incarnation of the child's understanding of death. The villain senses that the universe is begging to collapse and his mission is to prepare the universe for the end. The player characters are each manifestations of the child's mind struggling to prevail against death itself. While the players may never learn this backstory, it serves as a foundation for the DM to consistently enforce or bend the world's rules and limitations. Worldbuilding requires an unwavering belief in the reality you're creating, even if that world is fabricated.  If a DM bends the rules - say, resurrecting a player's dead character - it has to mesh well with the rest of the universe they've built, otherwise the whole woven tapestry falls apart. Similarly, parents and game designers can and should apply worldbuilding principles to shape experiences, whether for children or players. As a parent, your worldview influences the environment you create for your kids.  I am a person who grew up in an insidiously oppressive environment. I'll spare you the sob story, but I carried this baggage with me for most of my adult life, and eventually I realized that I had two choices:  pass on my bleak reality to my kids -or- choose to view the world differently and pass that on instead. One thing that became very clear in that moment though was that ultimately, the worldview I adopt will shape the world my kids inhabit. To make this change, I had to mentally construct a new way of viewing reality - a better one - and believe in it fully. All so that I can authentically and sincerely pass on something truly good and healthy to my children. Anything less would just be a well-crafted lie delivered by a well-trained actor playing the role of a good parent. In other words, "fake it 'till you make it". One of the house rules I constantly repeat to my kids is: "we say what we do and then we do what we say." This is so simple, but it's rooted in neuro-science, human psychology, trust-building, and self-regulation, all of it based on my experience and research on the matter. They don't need to know the complexities of it, just that it works. They must be given just enough information that they can identify a clear and subjectively desirable objective, as well just enough tools to manage themselves towards their objective while navigating their obstacles. Just like you don't play a deckbuilding card game with full unlimited access to all the cards. You gradually unlock more options as you play. And you gradually unlock a deeper understanding of the overall game the more times you play the game, based on your interest in that game. This is true about life as well. For fun, here are some more of those bite-sized rules that I've created for my kids: - "Bad guys make trouble and good guys stop trouble." - Addendum to the previous one, revealed much later: "REALLY good guys make good things happen and REALLY bad guys stop good things from happening." - "The truth brings us together, and lies make us alone. Stay with me in the truth and we'll figure it out together." - "Failure leads to learning, which leads to more ways to have fun." - "Your feelings are like kids in the backseat of your car: listen to them, but don't let them drive." These rules are foundational to the world I'm building for them, but they're completely different from the ones I grew up with. I aim to provide a better reality - one with hope, agency, and a clear path to success. It's fascinating to realize that these rules are indeed almost arbitrary; I've chosen them as part of a world I've constructed, and it all comes down to my faith in my own system. Unlike the harsh environment I knew, my kids will grow up in a world where mistakes are just stepping stones to success. This new reality shapes their future, and allows my old one to fade into memory. I hear you, those with teenagers who don't give a rat's ass about anything and who actively reject everything around them like it's an Olympic sport. I'll admit my kids are still quite young, less than 10 years both of them. But you see, this is what's fun for me; it's a calculated gamble. I'm not here to enforce consequences - reality, the one I've shaped for them, will do that. They can lie, cheat, steal, party, and experiment, or just be lazy all they want, and if my reality is consistent and balanced enough, it will handle the consequences. If my rules are solid and coherent enough, they'll understand what went wrong and how to fix it. My role is simply to be present, help them pick up the pieces, and guide them back on track. Hell, if I'm lucky, maybe they'll even be able to identify nefarious activity from afar, and give it wide berth. Regardless of how they end up handling it, my goal is to watch them build their world on top of mine, as I slowly watch my own world crumble gracefully into memory and sink into the bedrock under generations to come.
GiANTS Game Philosophy

GiANTS Game Philosophy

I've been creating games for my kids for over 7 years, and turning boring workouts into games for clients for 15+ years. On this platform I'll share my observations on the nature of all types of games, to document the mentality behind making genuinely interesting and fun games, all in an attempt to make it more accessible for anyone to make games, for kids or in general.


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Confiscated Freedoms: El Harrach and Tindouf, Two Faces of the Same Oppression... 113

Aziz Daouda, 8 h.
It was while reading, moved, the heartbreaking letter from Algerian writer Boualem Sansal, addressed ultimately to everyone, that the idea for these few lines came to me. In this letter, written from El-Harrach prison, Sansal fiercely denounces the political repression and arbitrary incarceration imposed by the Algerian regime. This denunciation quickly made me think of the tragic situation of the population confined by the same regime for nearly fifty years in the Tindouf camps in Algeria. My thoughts wandered randomly between the zealots who are there, like my high school friend Sadati, bearers of a chimera; those who stay there without even knowing why; those who have aged there; those buried there; and those born there. It is on these last that my thoughts particularly lingered. The Tindouf camps shelter a few thousand young people born in exile, rather exposed where their parents ultimately did not choose to be, under extremely harsh conditions. For many, they are not even originally from the coveted lands nor bear any claim. They mainly depend on humanitarian aid, live in total precariousness, and see their well-being deteriorate, while those living just a few miles away enjoy abundance, comfort, and rights. They did not ask to be there and dream, like all their peers, of a better life, which truly exists on the other side. Unlike a traditional prison with visible walls, like El Harrach, the Tindouf camps are an open-air prison, a constrained space where these youths are held without trial, without hope of freedom, nor any possibility of returning to their homeland—not by their own choice, but that of their jailers. The common point between El Harrach and Tindouf: the sordid game of a military regime from another era. This prolonged situation strikingly evokes the deprivation of freedom suffered by the detainees of Tindouf and the Algerian political prisoners Boualem Sansal describes in his letter. Both embody the same silenced voice, the same hope confiscated by the whims of officers who only carry the name, and by a military caporalism that, since 1962, continuously invents enemies, uses torture, repression, and deprivation of fundamental rights to maintain its grip on one of the richest countries in the world. This regime has stifled all democratic expression, from annulling election results to the spectacular assassination, broadcast live on television, of President Mohamed Boudiaf, sending a message of terror to the whole people. Recently, it brazenly repressed the peaceful Hirak protests and imprisoned their leaders. This regime no longer hesitates to mistreat even its most loyal servants. Randomly, prime ministers, ministers, high dignitaries, businessmen, generals, and journalists, even foreigners, find themselves subjected to quick trials where only the voice of their master resounds. They end up in the same prison, the famous El Harrach. In his letter, Sansal expresses the physical and moral pain of a man imprisoned for having evoked history, dared to defend justice and dignity. His words carry the voice of all those whom the regime seeks to silence. This captive voice painfully echoes the fate of the youngsters held in Tindouf, also deprived of their most basic freedoms and condemned to endless waiting in a desert environment, hostile and hopeless. Far from being a mere analogy, this comparison reveals a universal reality: whether behind bars or in the vast inhospitable desert, deprivation of freedom, forced exile, and broken hope remain the instruments of relentless political oppression. For these youths, the "march through an endless desert" is both a physical ordeal marked by extreme poverty, scorching heat, and isolation, and a metaphor for their quest for identity, dream of regaining their freedom, and joining the motherland. Beyond denunciation, in his letter, Sansal makes a solemn appeal to France, asking it not to sacrifice its values on the altar of mercantile contingencies. The same appeal is addressed to the international community, on behalf of the young detainees of Tindouf, so that human rights principles are not sacrificed on the altar of geopolitical interests. This appeal is all the more relevant facing the situation of these youths, many of whom are not even originally from the Moroccan Sahara but are still imprisoned in a situation of exile and oblivion. Thus, behind two different walls, a prison cell and undocumented, unrecognized refugee camps, lies the same tragedy: human beings reduced to waiting, to deprivation of liberty, and to a silent struggle not to disappear. This convergence highlights the urgency of strong humanitarian and political action to end these imprisonments so that freedom of thought, of living, and of deciding one’s own destiny is never again captured by an oppressive political machine, devised and implemented by an anachronistic military staff. Thank you, sir, for awakening in me this fiber of compassion, even pity, for young people who deserve to live a better future. I take here again Boualem Sansal’s words, which I address to the youth imprisoned in Tindouf: *"Fear is a prison larger than the one where I find myself, and it is harder to break. But I know that one day, the wall will fall. Dictators always end up falling."* Youth of Tindouf, You will break the barbed wire, you will cross the checkpoints to return home by the strength of your character and the power of your will. Your country, that of your ancestors, the Kingdom of Morocco, awaits you; the future opens its arms to you; life will smile upon you for eternity, you will taste freedom there, the joy of living, of building yourself and of ensuring a happy future for your children. Your dreams will come true there and your ambitions will be realized. You will be the continuation of your ancestors in a diverse and powerful nation as it has been for centuries. You will help enrich humanity by your knowledge, your creativity, your genius. You just have to dare.

The Seven Chakras: A Metaphysical Anatomy of the Soul 799

Tupan, 2 d.
Throughout the ages, esoteric traditions, yogic sciences, and mystical philosophies have described the human being as more than flesh and bone—as an energetic organism with subtle centers of power, perception, and spiritual potential. Among these systems, the doctrine of the seven chakras stands as one of the most refined and symbolically rich models of inner transformation. These chakras—meaning “wheels” in Sanskrit—are vortexes of energy located along the body axis, each responsible for specific aspects of consciousness, physiology, and spiritual evolution. From the densest energies of survival to the most ethereal states of divine union, the chakras form a ladder of ascent, guiding the soul towards enlightenment. The Root Chakra (Muladhara), located at the base of the spine, is the foundation of the entire energetic system. It governs physical survival, grounding, and the instinct for self-preservation. Associated with the element earth, it links the individual to the material world and the ancestral lineage. When balanced, it grants stability, trust, and a strong connection to one's body and environment. When blocked or deficient, it manifests as fear, insecurity, or disconnection from the physical plane. Spiritually, Muladhara represents the coiled energy of potential—the kundalini—awaiting its ascent through the higher centers. The Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana), situated just below the navel, is linked to creativity, sexuality, and emotional fluidity. Associated with the element water, it reflects the soul's capacity to feel, to relate, and to generate life—physically, artistically, or spiritually. It is the seat of desire, pleasure, and procreation, and its energy is relational, connecting the self to others through intimacy and shared experience. When in harmony, it allows the free expression of emotion and creative force. When imbalanced, it may result in emotional instability, guilt, or addictive tendencies. Svadhisthana is where passion and refinement meet. The Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura) is the center of personal power, will, and self-definition. Aligned with the element fire, it is related to transformation, ambition, and the assertion of the individual will. It is through Manipura that one develops a clear sense of identity and the strength to act upon purpose. When balanced, this chakra radiates confidence, motivation, and integrity. An excess may produce domination or pride, while deficiency results in passivity or low self-worth. Spiritually, Manipura is the alchemical forge where ego begins to be disciplined and transmuted into conscious intention. The Heart Chakra (Anahata) is the gateway between the lower and upper chakras, and the center of unconditional love, compassion, and spiritual empathy. Associated with the element air, it expands the sense of self to include others, fostering connection, forgiveness, and inner peace. An open Anahata transcends personal desire and embraces unity, allowing one to love without attachment and to serve without self-interest. Imbalances may manifest as emotional coldness, grief, or over-dependence. Spiritually, this chakra is the sacred rose of divine love, unfolding toward the eternal. The Throat Chakra (Vishuddha) governs expression, communication, and the power of the word. Linked to the element ether (or sound), it represents the capacity to speak truth and to manifest thought into form through language. It is also the seat of inner listening and alignment between inner truth and outer expression. When open and balanced, Vishuddha enables authentic speech and artistic expression. When blocked, it may result in silence, dishonesty, or miscommunication. At the spiritual level, it is through this center that the magician, mystic, or initiate learns to wield the sacred word—the logos—as an instrument of transformation. The Third Eye Chakra (Ajna), positioned between the eyebrows, is the seat of inner vision, intuition, and higher perception. It transcends rational analysis and opens the gates to symbolic insight, dreams, and clairvoyant awareness. Associated with the light element or pure mind, it integrates the polarities of logic and imagination, allowing one to perceive patterns, archetypes, and spiritual truths. A balanced Ajna chakra produces clarity, insight, and an awakened inner compass. Imbalance may cause delusion, fantasy, or disconnection from reality. Mystically, Ajna is the eye of the soul, through which one perceives the invisible architecture of the cosmos. The Crown Chakra (Sahasrara), located at the top of the head, is the highest center of consciousness, representing union with the Divine, cosmic intelligence, and spiritual liberation. Unlike the other chakras, Sahasrara is not governed by an element but by pure consciousness—chit—itself. It is symbolized by a thousand-petaled lotus, forever unfolding into infinity. When this chakra is fully awakened, the individual transcends ego and merges with universal will, experiencing profound bliss, silence, and liberation. Imbalances may manifest as spiritual disconnection, nihilism, or excessive intellectualism. At its highest vibration, Sahasrara is not a center of power but a doorway to the return to the Source. Together, the seven chakras form a living mandala of human potential. They are not merely energetic centers but evolutionary thresholds, each inviting the soul to purify, awaken, and integrate aspects of the self on its path toward unity with the divine. When harmonized, these chakras become a ladder of light—a sacred ascent from survival to transcendence, from matter to spirit. The awakening of the chakras is thus not an end in itself, but a means of returning to wholeness, where the human becomes a conscious expression of the infinite.