Did Hideo Kojima Craft Another Strange and Marvelous World?

A As a teen in South Australia during the late 1980s, I developed a fascination with Australian New Wave Cinema, partly due to the Mad Max trilogy. One day in class, my high school English teacher rolled in a TV trolley and presented us with a screening of Nicholas Roeg’s classic. We were spellbound. Fast forward 40 years, and I’m now immersed in Death Stranding 2, Hideo Kojima’s expansive apocalyptic saga. Occasionally, it feels like I’m reliving that classroom experience. The game unfolds in a devastated Australia, where cities have vanished, and the landscapes are as stunning and prophetic as those in Roeg’s films.

After 45 hours of gameplay, I’ve made minimal progress in the storyline. Instead, I’ve explored the wilderness and delivered packages to remote outposts. Set in a world ravaged by catastrophic events, the game showcases a supernatural explosion that transforms the landscape. As you traverse the expansive ochre desert towards the coast, you witness sunsets behind shimmering mountain ranges, and tides reflecting the sky. Unlike typical open-world games, where environments remain static save for day/night cycles, Australia in Death Stranding 2 feels magical and ever-changing. Earthquakes might send boulders tumbling down mountains or trigger a massive dust storm, while snowy avalanches can engulf you. Along your journey, you can construct roads, power generators, and jump pads, all of which other players can discover and utilize. Each visit to a location feels novel.

Kojima cites George Miller as his inspiration, and the influence of the Mad Max films — with their chaotic, desolate energy — permeates the game. It examines the interplay between technology and isolation, portraying feudal tribes and scarce resources amidst an adrenaline-fueled atmosphere. Yes, he’s influenced by Roeg as well; while there are hints of mythic resonance from Walkabout, the game may lack the profound undertones of colonial guilt. On the remote fringes of the game map, a rocky outcrop evokes memories of Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock.




The hallucinatory strangeness of the sun attacked… a picnic at Hanging Rock.

I’ve spent countless hours driving along the highways of this game, picking up parcels and delivering them to remote locations. Why? Sitting in front of the screen until 2am, I felt compelled to ensure that a shelter received its fluffy pajamas. The magic lies in creating a timeless Australian landscape that is subject to moments of extreme change — echoing the transcendental techniques employed by Weir. This world is both enchanting and menacing, which is utterly captivating.

A few years back, Weir expressed this about Picnic at Hanging Rock: “What I aimed to achieve was an oppressive atmosphere of unresolved tension. To evoke claustrophobia within both place and relationships. We labored intensely to construct a hallucinatory, mesmerizing rhythm that made you lose track of reality.”

In essence, that’s my experience with Death Stranding 2. It’s a game filled with hallucinations and engaging rhythms. You drive and drive, eventually returning to the same locale hours later—only now there’s a road or a marker left by another player who perished during the night. This creative interpretation of Australian landscape captures what Grand Theft Auto has aspired to achieve in American cities. It’s about interpreting and distilling a sense of place from an outsider’s lens. So, when I finally unlocked a new area for exploration, the sense of wonder mirrored my first viewing of Walkabout on a rainy afternoon in Manchester. I’m certain it will take me months to uncover it all.

What to Play




A philosophical comedy… a Quantum Witch. Photo: Nikki J.

A few months ago, I interviewed the creator of Quantum Witch, a unique pixel art adventure about a shepherdess who lost her flock and was caught in a metaphysical conflict between clashing gods. Nikki Jay, raised in a religious cult, escaped to forge her own path, and her experiences deeply inspire the game.

Developed with minimal assistance from Paul Rose, the inventor of the iconic Teletext Gaming Gin digitizer for Channel 4, it blends point-and-click mechanics with a postmodern deconstruction of the genre, punctuated with eccentric undertones. If you enjoy irreverent humor, you’ve come to the right place, or you’re simply looking for something delightful and quirky.

Available at: PC
Estimated playtime:
Five hours or more

What to Read




Bad news? …Mindseye. Photo: IO Interactive
  • In more troubling news for game industry employees—Mind-Annoyed Developers have begun to Make a Rocket Boy. Following a disastrous launch, the studio has seen significant layoffs. Games plagued by bugs and AI glitches have received negative reviews from both players and critics, with IGN reporting that up to 100 staff members have been let go. What a disaster.

  • Eurogamer features an amazing interview with voice actor Ashley Burch, discussing whether video games can positively impact mental health. Burch shares her own experiences with obsessive-compulsive disorder and how Harvest Moon 64 aided her coping mechanisms.

  • We love in-depth explorations of classic video games, and Gamespot has produced an amazing piece about how a designer crafted the best level in Deus Ex—the Aeon Storm, a legendary role-playing adventure from Dallas Studios, filled with intriguing details about the alternative rendition of Hong Kong.

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What to Click

Question Block




A peculiar narrative, a short play… The Rest of Edith Finch. Photo: Annapurna Interactive

This comes from Adam:

“I’ve been enjoying Be Brave, Barb, from the developers behind the fun Daddish series. I appreciate its straightforward, bite-sized gameplay, reminiscent of my experiences with the Game Boy Kirby titles.” What’s your favorite snack-sized game?

After my initial experience with the eerie short horror title Thin, I’m now obsessed with curious mini horror games, adding titles like Mouse Washing, Murder Case, and PT to my list. I’m also fond of classic PlayStation minigames like BISHIBASI Special and Point Blank. From the rest of the team, Keza is into WarioWare, The Lonely Mountain, and Pokémon Trading Card Game (“yes, still,” she says). Tom Regan enjoys Edith Finch’s Remains, Florence, and Inside; Christian Dongran mentions short-burst games like Loop Hero, Tetris Effect, and Sifu, while also noting, “Guardian Quick Cryptic is my favorite ten minutes of the week.” Sarah Maria Griffin loves Short Hike, and of course, the delightful Untitled Goose Game is a perfect little gem.

If you have questions or feedback regarding the newsletter, don’t hesitate to reply or email us at butingbuttons@theguardian.com.

Source: www.theguardian.com

Revitalizing Australia’s Craft Heritage: The Loom of Destiny and the Fight for Artisan Skills in Education

“Rachel, I have some unfortunate news,” the text read. “They are planning to dismantle the loom tomorrow.”

Rachel Halton still doesn’t know who made the decision in October 2022 to eliminate the $160,000 jacquard loom, which had been the foundation of RMIT’s renowned textile and textile design course for two decades.

Standing at 3 meters tall and weighing over half a tonne, the loom was an intricate machine made of polished wood, steel, compressed air, and mechatronics. It served as both a grand tribute to the textile industry’s golden age and a modern tool for weaving intricate fabrics from strands of thread. Halton couldn’t bear the thought of it ending up in a landfill.




The Jacquard Loom uses punch cards—an early form of coding—to guide the lifting and dropping of threads.
Photo: Stuart Walmsley/Guardian

“It was my day off, and I jumped out of bed and rushed over,” recalls Halton.

The loom was unique in the Southern Hemisphere and one of only a few globally. Halton acquired it for the university’s Brunswick campus in the early 2000s soon after she began teaching there. It “expanded artistic possibilities,” she states. Students enrolled specifically to work with it, and international artists visited to weave on it. It became integral to Halton’s creative process.


Upon her arrival on campus that October morning, she was determined to “rescue it from the brink.”

“He severed it right in front of me,” Halton recounts. “It felt like I was pulling the plug on a family member’s life support.”

Many shared her sentiment, prompting a grassroots effort to save the loom as news spread about its impending removal. A passionate collective of weavers, educators, students, and alumni rallied to find it a more suitable home, all while carefully disassembling it for transport to a compassionate technician’s workshop, eventually settling on a former student’s living space.

Textile artist Daisy Watt, part of that collective, describes the event as a “telling snapshot of the challenges” facing higher education in arts and crafts.

Warp and Weft

The loom’s cumbersome name underscores its significance. Traditional jacquard looms utilize punch cards (rows of holes in cardboard slips, the earliest form of coding) to control the lifting of vertical (warp) threads and weave fabric through thread manipulation. The Arm AG CH-3507 loom can be operated manually or via computer, providing total control over every thread and opening up limitless design avenues.




Watt collaborates with technician Tony De Groot to restore the loom.
Photo: Stuart Walmsley/Guardian

Watt has a “deep connection” to the loom. Not only did she invest countless hours during her time at RMIT, but she also housed it for months post-rescue. Self-taught in coding, she is now updating its electronics. Given its roots in Jacquard punch card technology, it feels as though the loom is intertwined with the **fundamentals of modern computing.**

“We often think of crafting as separate from technology, yet this embodies the beautiful chaos of that intersection,” Watt explains. “Effective crafting technology revolves around creating beauty.”

Instructor Lucy Adam notes that when the loom was acquired, RMIT offered textile design as part of its arts diploma.

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In 2008, RMIT shifted from offering a diploma to a Certificate IV training package, part of a wider and controversial national restructuring of vocational education. This approach omitted traditional curricula in favor of job-focused “competency units” directed by industry, all under stringent regulation.

Government officials defended these reforms as necessary for streamlining qualifications and eliminating underperforming training providers. However, educators and union representatives warned that this would dilute educational quality, resulting in a systemic decline in skill development which labor theorist Harry Braverman described as a shift from “conscious skilled labor” to rudimentary tasks.

Testimonies from RMIT’s textile design faculty indicate this was indeed the outcome despite their best efforts.




De Groot inspects educational materials recovered from the loom.
Photo: Stuart Walmsley/Guardian

The program has become “very dry and at the lowest common denominator,” according to Adam. Resources have been cut back significantly, and student interaction time has halved. Despite the loom’s educational potential, there was insufficient time to teach students how to operate it adequately. Halton endeavored to integrate it into student projects as much as possible, personally overseeing its setup, disassembly, and maintenance.

In her Master’s thesis, Adam scrutinized the effects of these changes on vocational education and noted that competency checklists missed the essence of trade disciplines like textile design, ceramics, cooking, metalworking, woodworking, and other fields that marry technical skills with artistic expression.

“Unless you are an exceptionally skilled educator capable of circumventing the banality, you’re relegated to an archaic teaching model,” she argues.

Artist and educator John Brooks echoes the concerns about the restrictive course structure, highlighting that even basic tasks like starting or shutting down a computer are now considered part of the evaluation requirements. “With so much focus on compliance, we compromise the fundamental skills we aim to teach,” he laments.

Adam remembers a student lamenting their training package, saying it felt like “filling out a visa application repeatedly.” “It truly saddened me,” she reflects. “Where does real learning take place? Where can you learn it?”




The loom’s new location in Ballarat.
Photo: Stuart Walmsley/Guardian

This trend isn’t confined to TAFE. Ella*, a third-year student from the University of Tasmania, shares with Guardian Australia that advanced 3D media courses, particularly in her areas of focus—furniture, sculpture, or time-based media—cease after the first year. There are also no offerings in art history.

“It significantly affects students’ understanding of contemporary art,” Ella asserts. Her instructor is striving to “revitalize” the course.

Professor Lisa Fletcher, representing the Faculty of Arts at the University of Tasmania, emphasizes the institution’s commitment to arts education, stating they aim to equip students with “strong and sustainable skills,” while actively seeking feedback as they regularly evaluate their art degrees.

Crafting the Future

The loom is currently housed in an incubator space in Ballarat, where rescue organizations can operate for minimal fees. The city is dedicated to preserving rare and endangered craft techniques. Certain crafts have nearly disappeared; for instance, stained glass work, once close to being extinct in Australia, has seen a revival thanks to a handful of artists who successfully reintroduced it into the TAFE system and launched a course in Melbourne’s polytechnics. However, such revivals are rare.


Watt and fellow weavers aspire for looms to be accessible once more, allowing others to learn, teach, and create. As Brooks puts it, the less prevalent these skills become, the fewer opportunities there will be to acquire them. “We’re in danger of losing them altogether.”

An RMIT spokesperson mentioned that the university had to remove the looms as part of an upgrade to ensure students had access to “reliable and modern equipment” that prepares them for the workforce. Presently, the space previously occupied by the looms is dedicated to military-funded textile initiatives, requiring security clearance for entry. Last year, RMIT stopped accepting enrollments for the Certificate IV in Textile Design after state government funding for the course was withdrawn.

Yet, there is a glimmer of hope. Adam remains determined; she recently proposed a new diploma that has been approved. Despite the growing constraints, she isn’t alone in her endeavors at the university. As of this writing, the institution is set to acquire new equipment—a modest yet promising $100,000 computer-controlled Jacquard loom.

*Name changed

Source: www.theguardian.com

Craft a compelling startup name that leaves a lasting impact, sparks reflection, and intimidates your rivals.

while slowing down With the venture capital (VC) market in decline and funding for disruptive startups likely to decline, companies looking to attract capital need a strong brand now more than ever. A strong brand starts with its name. Nothing is used more often or for longer. Moreover, it’s the one thing your competitors can’t take away from you.

A brand name is the basis for an immediate impact on consumers and investors. In today’s digital and global economy, it can mean the difference between a brand being instantly remembered or completely forgotten.

A brand name is more than just a label or a clever description. They serve as powerful marketing tools for creating or changing consumer perceptions and as the first step in building entirely new markets.

Start-ups in particular need a name that indicates that the company and its products are about the future, not the past. You need a company name that creates a brand image, resonates with your target market, and supports your business plan.

A startup needs a name that indicates that the company and its products are about the future, not the past.

A brand name is usually the first thing a potential customer sees or hears about your software or other digital intangible product. In a brand new industry that is just emerging, brands need a distinct, breakthrough name to garner attention and generate early market share.

When we partner with a startup to develop a new name, we use an internal checklist to ask if our recommendations pass the test. Here are his five questions we ask ourselves to ensure the name we create for our startup is memorable, distinctive, and stands out from the crowd.

Was the name an original idea?

Don’t be fooled by the adage that a great brand name tells your story. It is impossible to do that with just one word. Instead, your brand name is the foundation on which your brand story is built. Do you want to build on a rock or sand foundation?

Source: techcrunch.com