Weekly review cw 32
This time, there are two reviews of different types. On the one hand, I report on the formative experiences that have led me to computer games. On the other hand, the story of the week takes us 30 years into the past into a classroom full of children at a pubescent age.
Computer Games of my Childhood
In the current episode, Server Side Stories deals with computers. Like so many of my generation, games were in focus at the beginning. Maurice and I report on the games that shaped us at the time. The memories go back to the time of Atari and Amiga.
The next step before programming yourself was building games on our own. There is a separate episode about our programming kick-off. Both episodes show deep.
Current reading
I read the book “Storyworthy” by Matthew Dicks last week. I will provide a detailed review later. I wanted to report on this in advance, as it forms the impulse for the new section of my weekly review: “Story of the week”.
For better classification, a small description of Matthew's “Homework of Life”, which is the base for the section.
"Homework for Life" is a technique that was developed by the storyteller Matthew Dicks to experience everyday life more consciously and to discover one's own life as a source of stories. It involves noting and reflecting on a meaningful or memorable experience every day, and understanding why this experience is "historical". This practice should help to perceive life more consciously and to improve your storytelling.
Story of the Week
It is 1995—a boring school day at a secondary school in Hamburg. A relatively small and unsportsmanlike German teacher stands in front of a wall. She tries to jump up to tear notes from the wall. With a red head. At that time, pubescent boys tell bad jokes—these are jokes about blondes (aka Blondinenwitze). I also tried to remember them. To tell them. To belong to the group.
The discussion of whether this is right or wrong was not conducted. Except for this teacher. In retrospect, I appreciate it: she is a feminist, an excellent role model, and wanted to tear the list with the 100 best jokes off the wall. A boy in my class knew that she would react so outrageously. Therefore, the list hung excellently, but slightly higher than ordinary notices, on the wall. So our teacher has a problem tearing them down.
The girls looked ashamed, and the boys giggled unsafely. The lessons only continued after the list was in the trash. In retrospect, I find it impressive. This situation came to my mind when I saw the first good joke regarding blonde a few days ago—over 30 years later.
