The goal of the infinite game is to keep playing.

There is no goal, no next chapter, no final level, no end credits.

The infinite game allures because it requires no evolution. It is, at its core, a call to maintain the game as is.

If all we have to do is not lose, then the means to sustain it can be flexible, impersonal, and unthoughtful.

We love infinite games.

It's an absolutely packed Ferg’s Focus.

I wrote an essay that’s been bubbling for a while. French playwrights are slandering cowards (I thought it was ironic, too). We’ve got thieves dropping in from rooftops in Buenos Aires like it was the 1001st Arabian night. There exists a game like rugby only played on horses.

No flowery intros this time—let’s get into it.

These types of people are in some ways the inversion of the auto-critical. Instead of standards for success coming from within, their standards for success are only set based on comparing themselves to others.

To justify this, when threatened with competition, the natural defense mechanism is to pull down or pull back their competition with discouragement rather than progressing by their own merit. The gain becomes one of relativity.

Why worry about motivating yourself when you can close the competitive gap by disparaging others?