“yeah ok rowan that just means you’re in good company on this side of fedi” yeah i know it’s just like got damb, it’s not fair. i don’t want to be filled with shame and regret my whole life even after transition because it feels like it’s never good enough. i want what others have, where they can look in the mirror and feel good about it. where they can take selfies and feel empowered by looking how they feel. i feel like such a pretender and like everything i do is putting on the façade of the persona i’ve crafted for myself.

i still really don’t like my body though, its current form feels like a prison. i often find myself fantasizing about surgical procedures that could do things that would almost surely kill me if they were actually attempted with modern technology; reshaping and repositioning bones and muscle, adding and removing length and width to various places, etc. a lot of times i find myself wishing i could just start replacing parts wholesale with prostheses and become a modern ship of theseus but like really hot and kinda scary

@dawn that would make sense! i wondered if it could be some JIT shenanigans too but it’s really wild to see absolutely no performance difference. it really highlights that whole “profile first, dont prematurely optimize” adage

sometimes i wish i were able to pull off the high femme cutesy girl aesthetic but then i remember i would miss being genderfucked

maybe the weird thing about this is that i thought that “oh yeah i can just overwrite the method at runtime” was a good idea

javascript optimizations are always super weird to me and i end up profiling bizarre things

today, i wanted to be able to provide default implementations to either plain javascript objects or ES6 class instances, so i had something like this

class DefaultImpl {
  constructor(methods) {
    if(!isPlainObject(methods)) {
      return methods
    }
    
    this.methods = methods
  }

  aMethod() {
    return this.methods.aMethod?.() ?? someDefaultImpl()
  }
}

and my first thought was, “i wonder if i can overwrite aMethod when its called with either the default or given implementations to avoid the null coalescing check?

// ...
  aMethod() {
    if(this.methods.aMethod != null) {
      this.aMethod = this.methods.aMethod
      return this.methods.aMethod()
    } else {
      this.aMethod = someDefaultImpl
      return someDefaultImpl()
    }
   }
}

the performance results for both approaches were identical on v8, spidermonkey, and JSC. i’m assuming this is because the shape of a prototype is highly optimized and the one that overwrites the function violates the browsers expectations and suffers a performance penalty while the other one doesn’t? and if that’s the case, maybe the null coalesce vs the prototype change ends up being a wash. or maybe branch prediction on the null coalesce makes the performance hit basically nonexistent? i’m not sure yet

oh, and for what it’s worth, this isn’t a judgement on anyone in particular, and i’m definitely not trying to generalize! this is my attempt to understand a common archetype of player that i’ve noticed over the years and won’t account for everyone nor all the nuance even within what i’m trying to (poorly) describe

@jk this is really interesting to me too! i extremely relate with the expression of creativity – it’s actually typically what attracts me to the competitive games that i play. in the case of smash melee (and more recently, rivals of aether), i’m attracted to the variety of expression in gameplay styles. i don’t usually get excited over winning unless if i have a bunch of friends that are excitable from it; in which case, i really like to hype them up. the social aspect of competitive play – usually teamwork but sometimes the comradery of playing against one another – is the other part of what attracts me to it.

these posts brought to you by oh my god why can’t i beat clairen

secret third part to this since i’m still thinking about it.

i think there’s also a separate emotional component to competition which isn’t exclusively linked with enjoyment. i’ve seen people experience explosive outbursts after a game finishes – no matter if they win or lose. the conclusion of a really tense game is a moment of catharsis, a time to breathe and let yourself let go. some people experience a lot of emotion while playing the game and have to hold it in; that’s gotta come out at some point. i try not to judge when someone jumps up and yells (whether it seems positive or negative). it’s not the greatest sportsmanship-wise (for lack of a better, less gendered word), but it’s pretty common to see this happen in people that are otherwise very calm, collected, and positive in their interactions with others.

and that’s one thing i’ve noticed about this type of player – the one who has trouble enjoying winning or losing: they “should” be winning. it’s almost like a moral imperative. their ability to play the game is a reflection of some quality of themselves, and if they’re not good at the game then they’re experiencing some type of character flaw. their winning and losing is always a reflection of them as a person.

fortunately i think the only character flaw here is internalizing their gameplay ability and i don’t think it’s required in order to be competitive.

(time for rowan to flex her unimpressive gaming resume) i used to play a few games at a competitive level: smash melee (locally), red faction guerrilla, and dota. i was pretty good at a lot of games, but getting competitive is hard. it requires a lot of devotion to getting better. getting to truly competitive levels requires a lot of losing and then watching yourself lose. having an ego gets in the way of this type of growth because, if losing is a character flaw, it’s going to be really difficult to look at gameplay footage of yourself losing and point out mechanical failures rather than personal ones. imagine that: rewatching yourself losing a game and trying to identify how you failed as a person? i certainly wouldn’t want to. not only does it sound humiliating, but it also seems impossible. what is possible is identifying where gameplay mistakes were made. your character was positioned wrong, you weren’t working with your team, or your ability to execute certain things wasn’t as developed as it could be.

and this leads me back to the original point i was trying to make: when you’re able to disconnect your worth as a person from your ability to play a game, it’s much easier to enjoy it. it’s possible to experience loss and failure because it doesn’t mean you failed, just that you have room to improve… and honestly, that’s good. if you enjoy a game, you always want room to grow because that means you’re not done playing it yet.

i’m thinking specifically from the perspective of competitive gaming and esports but i think this should be applicable to any competition.

i think there is a general belief that competition is zero-sum: winners feel good for winning, losers feel bad for losing. on the face of it, it makes sense – everyone wants to win, right? why else would they compete against one another? and if everyone wants to win but not everyone can, then the joy of victory must inherently come at the cost of the loser’s pain.

i think in practice this can often be true, especially when playing in ranked matchmaking: valorant, counter strike, overwatch, etc, it’s easy to see this type of relationship between winning and losing. often the losers become very upset and winners gloat. but i don’t think that’s all there is to it, especially when you start playing a lot. often, the winners of a game can be every bit as angry, bitter, and toxic as the losers.

before getting into why losing isn’t an inherently bad thing, i want to look at the flipside of that dynamic: why doesn’t winning always make the winner feel good? surely winning – allegedly the sole purpose of playing – should provide some satisfaction, enough to alleviate most toxicity and negativity that comes with the tension of play, right? there’s a lot of nuance to competition but from my own experience, but i find that people who have a tenuous relationship with their own abilities tend to wrap their self-worth into their ability to play. winning doesn’t feel good because it’s the expected outcome if they’re good at the game. it’s hard to experience the euphoria of victory when it’s the expected outcome of every single game you play. afterall, if you’re good at the game you should be winning right? it’s not an exceptional case, it’s just a confirmation.

from the same perspective, what does this mean about losing? if winning is a confirmation of your ability to play the game, that means losing must mean that you’re not able to play the game. not only did you lose the game, your ability to play is not where it should be.

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