Valentine’s Day brings with it this pretty amazing video from Wholphin about the neurochemistry of how we love. Enjoy.

Nice video from 99% with Linda Rottenberg, co-founder of Endeavor, about why being called ‘crazy’ is a compliment and how hanging out in the men’s bathroom creates breakthroughs.

For those of you who are familiar with videogames, the name Duke Nukem is no doubt a known moniker in your mental lexicon. The protagonist anti-hero of the mid-90s shoot-’em-up by the same name, Duke Nukem revolutionized the idea of what a video game could be and how far it could go. Quickly becoming one of the top-selling videogames of all time, the game made its creators, 3D Realms, ridiculously wealthy and its fans absolutely ravenous for a sequel.

3D Realms started working on that sequel in 1997.

They never completed it.
In May 2009, the company, drained of funds, closed its doors.

So why tell this story now, almost three years on? Plenty of others have already written about this, Wired being the best journalistic example. But there’s a unique connection to Fishbird ideas (or lack thereof) in the failed story of Duke Nukem, one that we’ll summarize here.

It’s a fairly simple story.

Looking to knock the ball out of the figurative park with their Duke Nukem sequel, 3D Realms set out to create the best game ever. They threw big money into the project, hiring the best designers, the best coders. Every element had to look intensely realistic. Every gameplay moment had to be jaw-dropping. Awe-inspiring. And in theory, it was a great goal. But there was a problem with the goal: 3D Realms wasn’t working in a vacuum. Technology changes so quickly that the greatest looking game today looks amateurish tomorrow. You’re always playing catch-up. That’s where 3D Realms found itself. The team scrapped all of its work multiple times after playing competitors’ games, seeing the latest graphics in action, believing their game had to be even better.

Five years went by.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Fans were screaming for a new Duke Nukem.

3D Realms needed more time.

Another year went by. Staff left. Money got spent. The head guys at 3D Realms went to their publisher, hat in hands, looking for more money to finish the job. Instead, they got sued.

And 3D Realms was gone.

The Duke Nukem sequel came out last year, completed by another company. Called Duke Nukem Forever, the game was said to be one of the worst ever made. It’s the perfect case study of what happens when you get attached to perfection. It’s like a dog running on linoleum: lots of action, but no movement. With unlimited resources and no by-when, the team at 3D Realms basically scrutinized their dream project into oblivion.

At Fishbird, we don’t deal with perfection. It strangles creativity and output. If what you’re committed to is getting it perfect, you’ll produce pretty predictable results. Breakthroughs require us to break from getting it right, and simply get it out into the world.

Came across this print by Geoff McFetridge (one of our favorite artists) and wanted to share it with you all. Your mind doesn’t do you any good if you’re not speaking it into the world.

As humans, we tend to have a very narrow view of time. It’s hard for us to pick up on things that aren’t immediate or dramatic in scope. Change often goes unnoticed if it’s too slow. And so, as we near the end of 2011, it’s important to look back on our year with a magnifying glass, to understand and appreciate the changes that have occurred in each of our lives, and the change that we’ve caused in the world.

When you’re moving the desert grain by grain, it might not look like anything is different. But it is. Whether we can sense it or not, change is all around us. We are its makers. We are its subjects.

From everyone at Fishbird, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year.
We’ll see you in 2012.

Nice little snippet from an old Steve Jobs’ interview that says it all.

Another gem from Creative Mornings, this time with guest Christoph Niemann, Berlin-based illustrator and creative. Appreciate the humor.

Joao Silva is an award-winning war photographer and one of our personal heroes. Late last year, while on assignment in Afghanistan for the New York Times, he stepped on a land mine, blowing off the bottoms of both legs. Last weekend, he competed in the hand cycle competition of the New York City Marathon. It’s a true testament to the strength of the human spirit.

Anything is possible.