After so many years of being lost media, Pokémon’s original introduction to the west during E3 1998 has been archived!
Check this historic moment where Pokémon is introduced, and thanks to the Video Game History Foundation for their incredible work at preserving gaming history.
Obrigada a todos que começaram a me seguir! coloquei o produto na loja! como eu to repondo o estoque de outros produtos, coloquei so esse porta copos disponivel para compra https://t.co/EJBFZ6lgqd
From my perspective, Miyazaki is a rather unique, yet extremely serious game developer.
His career did not begin in the game industry. In fact, he didn’t become a game developer until he was almost thirty years old.
Even among developers of my generation (those of us born in the 1970s), I think it’s remarkable that someone who wasn’t even a game developer during the dawn of the polygon era eventually became one of Japan’s most representative game creators. (In other words, compared to the rest of us from the same generation—including myself—his career path is exceptionally unusual. Most notably, unlike many of us, he was not working at one of the major development studios that held a significant technological advantage during the early polygon era. That, more than anything else, is what makes his path so unique.)
Next, regarding my impression of Dark Souls.
People often focus on its difficulty as a game, but I believe Miyazaki’s true creativity shines through in the world he created. (By the way, I personally think Dark Souls has fairly simple action mechanics, and I don’t actually consider it to be an especially difficult game.)
If you look into my own career, you’ll see that I was personally involved with the Dark Souls series and Elden Ring as the General Manager overseeing both production and marketing (Just to clarify, I wasn't part of the development team itself. My involvement was simply as the General Manager of the publisher-side department overseeing production and marketing). From that perspective, I can say that Dark Souls didn’t suddenly become a massive success overnight. It was the result of everything Miyazaki and his team had built up through their previous titles.
Today, he receives offers from all over the world, but when I think back to the days when he and his team were struggling the most, many of those offers seem like they’re coming from people who only know who they are today. Some of them almost feel like complete reversals in attitude. Well, that’s just my personal perspective.
Personally, I had grown tired of people who would simply compare games by saying things like, “That title cost X billion yen to make and sold Y million copies,” and then use nothing but those numbers to judge them against other games. There were so many people who couldn’t appreciate the journey or the growth of the developers themselves. Anyone can look at the current numbers—they’re available to everyone. Whenever I heard those kinds of opinions, I always thought, “That’s exactly what you’d expect from someone who’s never actually developed games.”
What surprised me even more was that, even if people couldn’t properly evaluate that journey, almost nobody even seemed interested in trying to understand the process of how those developers gradually reached where they are today.
(I'm NOT talking about the fan community).
Now, going back to Miyazaki, there are two things about him that have always stayed with me.
The first was back when I was developing Summer Lesson for VR, around the time it was generating a lot of buzz.
One day, he came to try an early build of Summer Lesson along with people from several other game companies.
While everyone else was laughing, chatting, and having fun with it, Miyazaki alone played it with incredible seriousness. Then, after everyone had finished and started discussing their impressions, he remained completely silent, staring intently at the preview monitor, deep in thought.
Everyone became curious and finally asked him, “Miyazaki, what are you thinking about?”
He suddenly smiled and said,
“Oh… I got completely absorbed in thinking about what I would do if I were making this, and what kind of game I’d create.”
What he talked about after that was, in the best possible sense, completely insane.
It was one of those rare moments when I caught a glimpse of what I’d call his “mad scientist” side—his deeply serious, obsessive approach to creativity.
The other thing that left a strong impression on me was that he generally dislikes video interviews (including live streaming).
I once asked him about it by email, and he replied with quite a long explanation. After reading it, I completely understood where he was coming from.
Simply put, he doesn’t like watching himself moving around on video. (Psychologically speaking, it’s actually a bit more complicated than that.)
But there was another reason.
According to him, there are naturally many people in this industry who know games far better than he does. Whenever he listens to those people speak, he realizes that his own understanding is still shallow, and it makes him feel that he’s not yet in a position to be the one talking about games.
I mean… it’s common for well-known developers to say, “I still have a long way to go.”
But whenever someone like him says that, my reaction is always,
“Come on… if you say you’re still not there yet, then the rest of us won’t feel qualified to talk about games at all.” (laugh)
Anyway, that’s one of the reasons why video interviews with Miyazaki are extremely rare. And conversations with him on camera—especially long-form discussions with another developer—are even rarer. They almost don’t exist at all.
By the way, the other game developer in that photo is Masahiro Sakurai.
If you ask me, he’s basically:
“A Saiyan who genuinely believes he’s just another ordinary human.”
Every now and then, when the rest of us are struggling with some problem, he’ll say something that sounds exactly like Goku saying,
“Well… why don’t you just fly?”
And I’ll reply,
“Because we humans can’t use Flight Technique.”
Then he just stares at me with a completely puzzled look.
To put it in terms of Demon Slayer, I’d describe him as:
"Like Muzan Kibutsuji casually showing up at a drinking party where all the Hashira have gathered, genuinely believing he's just another ordinary guest".
That’s the kind of person he is.
Em 2005 houve uma explosão de utilização do PostgreS. Ultrapassou o MySQL por muito, e tinha performance similar, e sem custo a pagar pela utilização, do MS SQL SERVER. Para pequenas e médias empresas, foi o "TO GO" nessa época.
Tinhamos um sistema online, usado pelas principais distribuidoras de energia elétrica do país, rodando em um server local, apache e tomcat, java comendo solto. Tudo free, mas o custo das licenças de MSSQL e do Windows 2003 server estavam pegando um bocado.
Esqueça nuvem, esqueça SaaS, estavamos na era do bare metal no CPD da empresa!
Nessa época eu tinha a função administrador de redes e de servidores, e cargo de Gerente de TI.
Tinha na equipe um DBA e dois dos devs mais espetaculares que já vi: Daniella, que compilava DE CABEÇA e dizia se funcionaria ou não o código com 100% de acerto, e o Warley, que desenvolvia em java imprimindo tudo em um fluxograma colado na parede acima de seus monitores, e conseguia achar a fonte de CADA PROBLEMA, e melhorar o código, só analisando esse fluxograma impresso.
Esses dois, após uma reunião com o diretor de TI que estava preocupado com os gastos de infra aumentando, sugeriram o PostgreS. Funcionaria bem, eu já tinha uma estrutura robusta de servidores Linux aqui, já configurados e rodando poucas coisas, poderiam ser usados enquanto faziamos aqui no RJ a conversão dos servidores Win 2003 Serve para linux (Red Hat).
Fizeram testes locais (eles trabalhavam na filial em Aparecida de Goiania), testes de carga e tudo mais. Aparentemente tudo ok.
Marcamos uma sexta, ficariamos eu e o DBA, na empresa, até a noite de domingo. Lembrando que teriamos que transferir dezenas de GB e calculamos que algumas transferencias demoraria até 20 horas usando um POTENTE link de 1MB de internet que tinhamos...
Na noite/madrugada e final de semana o acesso era muito menor, então começamos replicando as DBs para Aparecida de Goiania, enquanto o DBA.
Terminamos as 08:00 da manhã de sábado.
Testamos, tudo integro, sistema rodando.
Começamos a operação.
Fiz backup em fita de tudo, zeramos os Windows 2003 server, jogamos a imagem REd Hat já preparadinha. O DBA foi lá configurar o PostgreS. Tinhamos os dados locais, tudo o que ele fez foi modelar e zerar tudo, pois já estavam com muitas horas desatualizados.
Ele terminou lá para as 16:00 horas. Ai passamos o acesso para os devs, pois eles iriam configurar a parte deles. Ficamos até as 01:00 da manhã do domingo. Funcinou. Hora de virar a operação de volta para cá e, ao mesmo tempo, replicar as DBs, de forma incremental, mas tudo junto.
Claro que o link de 1MB começou a abrir o bico.
Diversos escritórios por todo o Brasil ligando, mas já haviam sido avisados, ligações caindo na mensagem automática.
tanto o DBA quanto eu exaustos, noite virada em cadeiras, revezando turnos para dormir e ficar de olho nas coisas.
Certa hora, ali pelas 02:00, liga a esposa do DBA. Ele me fala "Brunão, vou botar em viva-voz."
E a esposa começa assim "EU SEI QUE TU TÁ ME TRAINDO! Trabalhando essa hora? Tô ligando para a empresa e só pega mensagem automatica! Você tá no puteiro!"
Ele "Calma! Eu to aqui no trabalho com o Bruno, tá em viva-voz!" para nos distrairmos, estava rolando uma música... eu não ligo para música, e epe gostava de pagode, então era um pagode típico de puteiro mesmo.
Eu falei "Oi Fernanda (nome da esposa dele) estamos na virada aqui na sede!"
Ela já me cortou.
"Com essa música? Você tá é junto com ele no puteiro!!! Vou ligar pra sua noiva!"
Ai o Leo, o DBA, se irritou "É, tamo no puteiro mesmo! Ainda bem que você já sabe e eu nem preciso mais fingir coisa nenhuma! Já sabe que só volto pra casa 2ª feira!"
eu ria de chorar. Ai a esposa dele mudou o tom e acreditou que ele estava trabalhando: "Ah, só volta 2ª? nossa, o trabalho deve estar pesado! Te espero 2ªem casa então!"
Sei que o trabalho foi até as 20:00 do domingo. tudo estava no ar, integro e funcionando.
Claro que tirei 2ª e 3ª de folga. O DBA também.
Só ficamos de sobreaviso.
Deu tudo certo.
E durou 2 meses.
No 2º mês o diretor de TI me liga.
"Bruno, não to gostando da performance do sistema rodando com esse banco...
VAMOS VOLTAR TUDO PARA O WINDOWS E O MS SQL SERVER.
Fui falar com os devs... Daniella e Warley estacam cabisbaixos. Disseram que o problema era o gagalo do Link, de 1MB. Eu sabia que era, já que não era nem dedicado: disputava com internet usada na sede, e-mail, e todo serviço online que tinhamos.
Mandei um relatório pro diretor. Ele nem quis saber.
Depois de remigrar TUDO, os devs falaram comigo o problema REAL....
O diretor, um cara turrão, velho de guerra de MS SQL SERVER, não sabia mexer em linux.
E não queria aprender. E depender de tudo que precisava saber, ter que pedir para um dev ou para mim, tinha colocado ele em uma posição de DEPENDENCIA dos funcionários...
E como ele era amigo do dono da empresa...
Sentamos na graxa por outro final de semana... mas dessa vez fizemos um churrascão da TI, e fizemos o diretor pagar do bolso dele.
Ele veio em pessoa, bebeu, cantou, festejou. Deu aumento para dois funcionários... voltou para Goiania no domingo, levando uma caixa de Guaraviton (não tinha por lá na época) e outra de biscoito GLOBO.
Pra economizar, ele usou o dinheiro de diária da empresa para bancar o churrasco... e dormiu na sala da diretoria na empresa.... huahuahuahuauh
A short story about deferring tech choices to thought leaders:
Early days at Disqus (~2010-2012), we made several frontend choices based largely on what thought leaders were promoting at the time.
One example: there was a big movement toward "micro-frameworks." Instead of larger, well-tested libraries like jQuery, you'd stitch together tiny interoperable micro libraries (Ender.js was one). Disqus was an embeddable JavaScript app, so file size mattered. It fit our use case, so we went with it.
Then it went live, and we were serving millions of users. The reality of those choices became clear. Micro libraries meant that instead of one good semi-bloated library, you ran 6-7 smaller, less-tested, crappier ones. We burned a ton of cycles fixing bugs and covering corner cases when we could've been shipping product.
We made a few choices like this.
At conferences, I'd track down those same thought leaders and ask for advice. "I'm hitting problem X, Y, Z. How did you solve this?"
That's when I learned my lesson: they rarely had answers, because they'd never reached our scale. Their energy went into promoting new stuff, not running it.
You should know this has never stopped. It's happening right now with AI. It'll happen again with whatever comes next.
Do your own homework. Test a lot. Don't just go with what somebody tells you.