Software Development Web Development

Why I Will Always Choose Firefox

Unlike most people who may be reading this, when I install a browser, it’s always Firefox. Being a software developer, and working around other tech-literate people, this simple fact seems to draw a fair bit of confusion, as everybody else seems to think of Google Chrome as their go-to option.

I’ve had a great many friends over the years try to convince me to switch to Chrome, usually, I presume, as an instinctive aversion to difference, and once because they wanted to prank me by installing the NCage chrome extension. On that last occasion, I installed it just to see the prank, and then promptly uninstalled it again.

In the past, my reasoning for doing so wasn’t so strong. When I first installed Firefox, it was when I was perhaps in junior high school, and at the time I wasn’t very tech literate. I had basically every browser installed on my old Windows XP system, and any given week I might favor a different one. At one point, I even recall being a staunch Safari for Windows supporter. Perhaps that’s slightly less of a sin than my occasional use of Internet Explorer, though.

It was a few years later, when I was in high school, that I finally made my final decision. I wanted to only use Firefox… because of the cute fox mascot (I am aware that a fire fox is a red panda, but their mascot isn’t, so your point is invalid). No joke, that was the decision that led to where I am today.

Things have changed an awful lot since I made up my mind about my choice of browser, but I have used every major browser there is, and I am still up to date on the technological details and features of most of them. To this day, I feel that I still made the correct choice, albeit for a silly reason at the time.

In the past, I felt happy to be different in my choice, because why not? Everybody else could use whatever they wanted, and so could I. The nature of the internet wasn’t at stake. But now, that has changed. With Microsoft choosing to switch edge to be based off of Chromium, this now means that there are only two remaining players in the browser engine arena: Google’s Chromium, and Mozilla’s Gecko.

Competition Makes Better Browsers

One of the benefits to what may seem like duplicated work is a parallel to one of the main benefits of capitalism in general: competition creates faster innovation. Because every browser team wanted theirs to be the best, they had no choice but to try to innovate faster, create richer features, and do whatever the people wanted as fast as possible, lest they fall out of favor and be replaced by their competitor. No doubt this is, and was, a stressful thing, but that stress undoubtedly yields a superior product from everyone in the game.

If Gecko were to fall, there would be only one browser engine left: Chromium. Do you think they’d need to innovate quickly? Absolutely not. They’d be in no danger of being replaced. Innovation would surely still continue, but not at the rate it has in the past.

Competition Enforces Standards

The web is entirely based on standardization right now. There are several large committees representing hundreds of companies and organizations that govern the standards of the web that we use today. These standards are designed to be written guidelines with very specific rules, which ensure that multiple different implementations produce the same result when given the same web content.

In the past, this has worked very well. Despite the occasional difficulty, browser engines were able to keep up with these standards, and that’s why somebody could create one version of their website for Chrome, Firefox, iOS, Opera, Edge, and so on, and it would work the same everywhere (except Internet Explorer, they could never truly get it right

The question it seems a lot of people might struggle to answer is why every browser cared so much about following standards. Why couldn’t chrome create its own method of drawing on a canvas, or aligning content, for example? Surely doing so would give them the ability to claim that they had a special, extra feature that nobody else did. In a way, it’d be much like Microsoft holding exclusivity on an API like DirectX. Anybody wanting to use that API needed Windows (until Wine happened, of course). The problem, which is on a smaller scale an issue faced by DirectX, is that developers will begin to prefer alternative APIs that support more browsers with the same code, and users of other browsers will begin to see that browser as something of a non-team-player. Every time they go to a website that doesn’t work correctly because of the lack of standardization, they’ll blame both the developer of the site, and the developer of the non-standard browser. Further, if the other browsers are all standardizing, and one isn’t, then they all become the browsers that “Just Work” and the odd one out is… well… the odd one out.

I do believe that the initial adoption of web standards was because browser developers are web developers too, and they likely did it out of a desire to make the web a better place, but years later, standards are no longer optional, and competition is why.

If Gecko dropped out of the competition and left Chromium all alone, would the Chromium team have to follow standards? Absolutely not. I believe they would try, but they’d have all the leverage. If they wrote an API, it’d become a de facto standard, because everybody has it. If they wrote an implementation wrong, it wouldn’t matter, because theirs would be the vast majority of the market share, so the actual standard implementation would actually become “wrong.” This might sound good to some out there, because it would surely streamline the process of the standards, but it puts all of the power in the hands of one project, one team, one company. It’d essentially be giving Google a monopoly on the internet. They wouldn’t necessarily use that for evil, the problem is that they easily could.

The Fight

Maybe I’m too idealistic, but now that Gecko is the last competitor to Chromium, this has become a real fight to me. I won’t switch to Chrome because I like Firefox more, but also because I believe in the open, competitive web, and that can only change over my cold, dead Gecko-based browser. And I hope some of you will join me in that fight.

Game Development Game Jams Software Development

Ludum Dare 38-40 Postmortem

It’s been nearly a year since I participated in Ludum Dare 38, which was my first ever game jam. I finished the game, and received decent ratings (I mean, not great over all, but given it was my first one), placing me between the 500th and 700th place in the rankings. I also participated in Ludum Dare 39, which unfortunately never made it to the playable stage by the 72 hour deadline. Ludum Dare 40 I likewise did not finish, however it was much more finished than 39, and was more technically advanced than either of the previous attempts.

Ludum Dare 41 is coming up in less than a month, and as I try to prepare my game engine implementations, now seems like as good a time as any to do a postmortem on each of my experiences.

Ludum Dare 38 – Asteroid Field

Let’s start with a simple explanation of my concept for Ludum Dare 38. The theme was “A Small World.” My game was called “Asteroid Field,” and was a game wherein you play as the planet earth, firing missiles into space to blow up large asteroids that are careening randomly toward your tiny planet. As time progresses, so does the average size, number, and speed of asteroids. The more points you score, the better your missiles get.

It was written in JavaScript using ES6 and transpiled and bundled with Webpack and Babel. The game engine was Phaser CE 2.

The majority of my time was spent learning the Phaser engine, which I had never used before. I had especially debilitating delays caused by issues with collision physics and particle emitters as implemented in Phaser then. I ended up implementing the physics collision math myself instead of going through the game engine, as the built-in arcade physics that I had initially intended to use gave strange behavior, as everything was expected to be a square, whereas my assets were generally better represented as circles. Unfortunately, my reliance on circles for hitboxes resulted in performance-killing trigonometry in the inner loop, which makes it difficult to play on older computers. I also made the mistake of starting the project without using the pushdown game state system, which resulted in having to significantly refactor my code when I decided I needed a game over screen.

My next biggest use of time was late-phase debugging, which I think is largely due to the fact that I went into this challenge knowing very little about the library I was using. I spent very little time on creating assets, game design, and play testing/balancing.

Overall, I would say I did a great job of limiting the scope of the project to make it realistic for my experience level with the tools, format, and process. Right from the start, my strategy was to create a game design with minimum complexity of mechanics, but with a lot of potential for cosmetic and very simple gameplay additions that could improve on the barebones concept. This strategy worked well for a first game.

Aside from inexperience, which can only be remedied over time, I think the primary lesson that I learned from this experience was that I needed to plan things more effectively. I think more complete mockups of the design, as well as figuring out the requirements for things like the physics engine going into the project would have helped me to avoid many roadblocks.

Ludum Dare 39 – Blackout (Incomplete, Unplayable)

A few months after Asteroid Field, I participated in Ludum Dare 39, for which the theme was “Running Out of Power.” My game was called “Blackout”, and the premise was that you would play as a dispatcher for a power company, and your screen would be a control panel showing a city and providing notices when the city’s power grid was damaged. Your job would be to dispatch your repair crews as effectively as possible to keep the power on for the greatest number of people. If you were not powering part of the city, that part would not be paying you, and if enough people are without power, the power company loses money. You lose when your company runs out of money.

This game was built on the same tech stack as Asteroid Field.

During this project, I spent the majority of my time, disappointingly, designing the digital representation of a city. This project was a lot more ambitious than my last one. From the design perspective, it didn’t seem that much more complex, certainly not enough to prevent me from completing the game on time. What I underestimated, however, was the complexity of the “street node” system, and the difficulty of implementing both the rendering and the physics of the vehicles travelling along said street nodes. I did get so far as determining that there needed to be object representations of “intersections” and “roads.” Intersections would contain references to each road that connected to them, and each road would contain references to each intersection acting as an endpoint. Additionally, roads would contain data on the amount of traffic, the speed of the road, and sometimes control points, through which a Catmull-Rom spline would travel to create curved or windy roads. The vehicles would be dispatched by passing their origin, destination, and the city grid to an A* pathfinding function, which would spit out the turn-by-turn directions. An update loop callback would then be responsible for moving the vehicle along this path based on the speed and traffic values for the street upon which the vehicle is currently traveling.

That design was straightforward enough. Unfortunately, that is more or less the entirety of the implementation that I had even figured out, let alone implemented. A number of problems appeared this time around. First of all, how do I draw this city? Well what I did was literally to draw it on a sheet of paper, and then draw a grid on top of it and manually write out a big long JavaScript object containing the intersections and streets and their coordinates as they appeared on the sheet of paper that I drew up. This took an ENORMOUS amount of time. I spent over a day and a half doing just this. With this task figured out, I also needed to implement the preloading system and game menu. Fortunately, I was able to complete those things, and I do have a menu complete with the ability to name your power company. After that, I needed to render the city. I had initially determined that a Catmull-Rom spline would be the best way to implement curves in the roads, since I could simply give it coordinates that fell on the path instead of off-path control points which Bezier curves need. Unfortunately, after completing the map, I found that the game engine I was using had already implemented Bezier curves, but not Catmull-Rom, which were more complex. At this point, I realized that I needed to implement the curve algorithms myself. This was about where I was when 72 hours came to an end. The extent of playability is that you can load the game, name your company, and start the disappointingly blank screen that is the “playing” state, even though somewhere in your browser’s memory is an invisible and very complex street map that I painstakingly wrote out by hand.

I think that the biggest lesson here, is, once again, to learn how to better plan ahead of time, better consider the technical limitations of the game engine at the time of the contest, and to better assess the difficulty and depth of the gameplay elements. I think this might have also gone better if I had been able to adapt the design as issues appeared, which might have been possible if I had more often benchmarked my progress according to a schedule.

Ludum Dare 40 – Speed Fishing (Incomplete, Kind Of Playable, Pretty Neat)

Okay, Ludum Dare 40 was the best of times, and the worst of times for me. I had hyped myself up for this challenge, for which the theme was “The More You Have, The Worse It Is.” I’m not going to lie, I hated the theme for this one. But that’s how Ludum Dare goes sometimes, and that’s what’s so cool about it. You show your adaptability by taking the theme and working with it, regardless of your feelings towards it. And so I did.

My game was called “Speed Fishing,” and its premise was that you are a fisherman in a fishing boat. You must collect as many fish as you can in a specific time limit. Before the timer is up, you must return to the starting place. You drive your motorized boat out into the water, avoiding obstacles such as land, sharks, and battleships, and collect the fish as you go. The more fish your boat contains, the more difficult it is to accelerate, brake, and turn, thus making travel more perilous.

This time, I broke from the web stack and decided to implement this game in C++ using SFML. I had already been working on the engine for a Minecraft-like game called Territory, and I ported much of the code from that, refactoring it to use SFML instead of GLFW. I chose SFML over GLFW because of its relative simplicity for 2D games, whereas GLFW was chosen for Territory because of its more do-it-yourself nature, and its support for Vulkan.

I spent a good part of my time working on real game features, believe it or not. That said, a few things took longer than expected because I had come from the web stack and expected functionality to be present that simply wasn’t, even in as high-level a framework as SFML. Namely, I had to figure out how to place elements on the screen correctly using direct coordinates (which I did in the previous games, but there seemed to be more helper functions available there to do things like center an asset), and I had to handle click events myself to determine if clickable elements had in fact been clicked. This click event handling was the biggest shock of all to me, although I was able to figure it out, and fortunately determining if a click lands inside a rectangle is fairly straightforward math. I also expected SFML to implement game states and associated functionality, but that was also left to me. Fortunately, I had already done most of that in the Territory project. As in the last Ludum Dare, however, the complexity of the game map implementation was one of the biggest consumers of time. In this case, I wanted the world to be mostly ocean with some land, and I wanted everything to be generated procedurally using perlin noise. I also needed to guarantee that the boat would spawn in water. Additionally, I needed to use the flyweight pattern for the rendering of the map itself, as I didn’t want to have millions of instances of multi-byte objects eating up large swaths of fragmented memory and slowing down the rendering because of CPU prefetch misses. I also needed to be able to move the player entity around through the world, all while keeping the camera centered on it. Because the world was larger than the screen, I also didn’t want to have to render the tiles that were outside of the visible screen area.

All of these features, I was able to implement, and just in time for the deadline no less. Unfortunately, things like the menu, score-keeping, fish entities, enemy entities, land collision, timer, and boat movement physics did not get completed within the time limit.

This time around, I will say that I had more distractions than before, and therefore I could have put more focus into this project than I did. Despite that, however, this project has more lines of hand-written code than both previous projects, and despite being incomplete, it is more technically complex than the completed Asteroid Field game, and I am truly proud of it. In all 3 Ludum Dare experiences, this one is the one of which I am the most proud. So that’s the good. The bad, however, is that the last day is one of which I did not sleep one minute. In fact, when the 72-hour mark was met, I had been awake for 30-something hours. I felt awful and tired. There were many moments between the 24-hour mark and the end that I was absolutely suffering. But I was determined to finish something, to be proud of something. I succeeded at that, and I am grateful.

I think one of the things that I learned with Speed Fishing was that I loved C++ more than I loved JavaScript. I also learned that code reuse is a beautiful and helpful thing, and I need to be doing more of that. This project, Speed Fishing, is the origin of a game engine I created called “ArcticWolf,” which comes after “TimberWolf,” which is the one that I used in Territory. Each of them is a specialization of a very deliberately similar API. I will be able to use these engines in not only future Ludum Dare projects, but also in free and commercial games that I will be releasing via my game company “Danger Zone Games.” So in a way, Ludum Dare 40 was the beginning of Danger Zone Games, it was the beginning of me making modular and reusable game engines, and created the ArcticWolf game engine (which was originally borrowed code from TimberWolf, which was borrowed code from Territory).

The Future!

I am very excited to participate in future Ludum Dare jams, and I am very excited to be creating games at long last. It’s been a dream of mine for a very long time, and it’s been a wild ride getting to where I am now. Even though I’m not making money on my games yet, I still love it. For me, game development isn’t a job or an industry. Game development is an amazing art. It incorporates technical skill through programming, graphic art and musical talent through game assets, and psychology through gameplay design. When you’re on your own, you have to be a skilled artist and technician in each of these fields. When you work with others, you may only need to specialize in one, but as a team your talents must stay in sync. I am proud to be a part of this community, and I am excited to see what we can all achieve in the coming years.