The Jostle Diaries

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Towards the end of the development of Jostle Bastard, I received an email from Pippin Barr that said: Have also pulled out all my diary entries on the subject [of Jostle Bastard], which I’m attaching. They sound a bit disjointed because they’re pulled from my actual diary, which of course includes a bunch of stuff unrelated to this game! The attached document was a kind of poem of doubt that oscillates between the heights of triumph and the depths of despair. After reading through it, I replied: The diary is great stuff. It kind of reads like Dracula or a

Pretension +1: Come Through

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Last weekend we buried my friend Carlos Batts on the side of a hill in Glendale. It was the magic hour, so the sun and smog conspired to give mourners a Tony Scott panorama of downtown Los Angeles while we pondered the loss of a friend gone too soon. In attendance were the bent and burnt of Hollywood. I counted more than a few pornographers in black, models with tattoos spilling from dress sleeves too. One dude looked like a East L.A. biker. More than a few bore the cultivated look of art collectors and gallery owners – pricey-looking clothes