It’s a well-known fact that comedy is where frustrated musicians go to die. In my case, I had to go through the world of video games so that creative frustration could reach its peak and the pot could burst into a big explosion of dubious jokes with a bittersweet backdrop.
I have developed videogames, some of them internationally successful. I have created and sold programming tools for the geekiest of programmers, among whom I feel as uncomfortable as I do at home. I have written one book, published in 1994, which makes me officially old. Moreover, it only partially satisfies my creative craving, as it deals with the limitedly poetic assembly language. I have worked for American intelligence writing software to detect Persian metaphors; I can tell you that it does have a part as cool as the movies tell: the “paycheck”.
Now I do monologues, usually in English because it’s funnier with a foreign accent. I also dare to sing and play the piano in public, which above all speaks to my lack of sense of the ridiculous. In addition to these spirit-fuelling activities, to feed the stomach I write advanced software of various kinds. The most relevant is designed to understand what drives videogame players to become so hooked – and I can tell you that it is written in fear of discovering that it is because the rest of the world has become bland.
