Dungeon Dive Video Archive Update

Adjacent Frequencies

There is a corridor in this archive where the exhibits do not hold still. The Keeper has learned to approach it by ear rather than by eye, because what is filed here is mostly sound, and sound has opinions about where it will stay.

The premise of the wing is simple and slightly disreputable: that the games in the other rooms did not arrive from nowhere. Somebody was playing a Casio in a basement. Somebody was gluing a magazine together out of borrowed images because nobody would print the real one. Somebody who could not draw a straight line drew the thing anyway and sold twelve copies of it. The archivist has been circling this material for years without quite admitting it is a subject, and the Keeper — who takes a professional interest in things filed under miscellaneous — has finally hung it as one.

The spine of the wing is a weekend in November. A festival came west, took over a vegan bar on a hill in Seattle for three days, and ran roleplaying sessions in the early evening and live performances until one in the morning. The archivist went, ran games for strangers, and — this being the part the Keeper enjoys — wandered the room afterwards with a microphone, collecting people. What comes back is not criticism. It is field recording: musicians explaining their equipment with the particular seriousness of those who have not yet been asked about it, one of them mid-way through the first day of his life as a performer.

From that weekend everything else in the corridor follows. A magazine met at a merchandise table. A game met at the same table, argued over at length. The archivist’s own instrument, no larger than a playing card, which turns out to have made most of the noises this channel has ever made. And at the far end, zines whose rules fit in a paragraph and whose remaining forty pages are simply pictures — filed as games, shelved as art, and the Keeper has stopped trying to settle which.

Five older panels hang among the new, unmarked as ever.

Exhibit Catalogue — earliest first:

909 transcripts • 988 posts archived

– The Keeper
Owns no instrument, having found that a sufficiently quiet room will play whatever is required of it.