What I find interesting, and this could have no correlation to the other at all, is that, well, have you seen the picture of the steve head with the moving eyes. It has a caption about herobrine. The caption said: I
t has been reported that some victims of torture, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not WAKE UP. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren't being tortured. The only way that they realized they needed to WAKE UP was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to WAKE UP. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP.
And who would have guessed: The last line in the Xbox 360 credits talk is:
WAKE UP
Perhaps it is just a joke, but maybe their is truth to it. It creeped me out when I saw it and made the connection. Well, have a good day.
What I understood from the ending was:
"You finished Minecraft now go finish the real world, the game is finished your life has just started, Don't waist the best dream of all, Life"
This is BEFORE the 1.9 update (because I am not sure what could happen). The ending is awkward for me to see due to the updates that have occurred after the end screen pops up. The wither for example can own the ender dragon. There are different paths to take when it comes to Minecraft now. Some people kill the ender dragon near the beginning of the game before carrying on with their XP farms, and giant redstone generator cart of doom. (Just some gibberish I thought of.) They really need to do something. I feel weird about seeing it, but if it just vanished (personally to me), it would seem so weird to not see it.
Why I said BEFORE the 1.9 update: something might happen with the game.
Why are people complaining about the ending? I'd take "pseudo philosophical garbage" over "Congurations! You beat game!" any day of the week. Why? Because it's creative and how many games do you know that make you question reality besides Portal 2? That's right. Not many.
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"No..""Yes!" Think DANGEROUSLY Live EXTRAORDINARILY Click here to learn how to reason
Video description : After reading most of the posts, Everyone thinks this game has no propose. But if compared to real life, how do we exist? In science, did we exist by accident? In a tiny planet that beats all the inconvenience of the world. Is there a creator puzzling us? watch the video to get a scientific conclusion.
I think this is really just supposed to be a heart-touching poem. After the poem, you get credits, and somewhere in there it says who made the end poem. I think Markus (Notch) just hired someone to make a nice long poem at the end, which can be skipped with [esc] for those of you with no patience or appreciation for literature. And it does make sense, but requires some thinking.From my perspective, it is saying that in Minecraft, you have built many structures and went on many great adventures. And then it compares your player to you in real life. It says that the player is a manifestation of yourself. You have expressed your ideas. And you have built many things. You have killed the Ender Dragon, the hardest mob.
Every Answer Is Wrong In This Topic, The True Reason is That All The Worlds You Play In Are Just Dreams Of A Real Player, You, And That Every Time You Finish A Dream, You Make Another Better One From The Last, Along With Millions Of Other Players, In A Endless Cycle In The Unknown World, Defeating The Final Challenge 1 Dream After Another, Forever, Always Building Better, Fighting Better, And Playing Better, From The Last To The Next.
Basicaly, Its That The Game Has No End, Even Though There Is, The Last Game Always Ends, But A New One Replaces It.
I see the player you mean. Wee you guys talking about a player just now? PLAYERNAME? Yes. Aren't I the only player here?
Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts. Who, exactly are YOU?
That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game. Wait a second, you are not?
I like this player. It played well. It did not give up. I wanted to beat the game, didn't I?
It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen. Wait a second, how can you read EACH OTHER'S thoughts?
That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game. This is not a dream. I could bang myself on the head right now and I would not wake up.
Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen. You mean all the wires and motherboards and stuff?
They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons. So, you are saying that Minecraft was once a magical game?
What did this player dream? Nothing. I am not asleep.
This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter. Well, II guess all that stuff happened.
Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?
It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].
It cannot read that thought. Is this some kind of glitch, or are you purposefully scrambling your words?
No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game. So, life is a dream too?
Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind? I'm pretty sure the universe is a single being and not 2 people.
Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes. I've never heard any universe.
But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality. Summer? There are no seasons at all! And I have never seen a black son.
To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere. Hey, this game is awesome. sorrow is the last thing I would feel about it.
Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.
It reads our thoughts. What word? what is my importance? I want answers!
Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream. Stop scrambling stuff!
And yet they play the game. Because I like it.
But it would be so easy to tell them... What are you talking about?
Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living. When I prevent myself from living, I respawn. Nothing more, Nothing less.
I will not tell the player how to live. I've lived this long, haven't I? I KNOW how to live!
The player is growing restless. No I'm not.
I will tell the player a story. What kind of story?
But not the truth. Why not?
No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.
Give it a body, again. Awww... I hate secret meaning stuff.
Yes. Player... Yes to what?
Use its name. I guess that's okay. PLAYERNAME. Player of games. I do not play that many games!
Good. No reaction.
Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things. I already have breathed and I have limbs. I have no fingers, and NONE OF US ARE SEPERATE THINGS!
Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change. So you are some strange creature that nobody knows about?
We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story. I already told you that the Universe is a single being!
Once upon a time, there was a player. Was it me?
The player was you, PLAYERNAME. I guess it was!
Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. If you are talking about lava, that is not true at all. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. So, is this another dimnsion, or what? They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. Guess it's not another dimension. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away. The sun?
Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience. You can't mine in a superflat world. Everybody knows that. Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story. No I didn't.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. No I didn't. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. No they weren't. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third. No I didn't.
Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen. IT'S NOT A DREAM!
Let's go back. Sure, why not?
The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body. No.
And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream. You can't awake into a dream.
And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. Minecraft is nowhere near a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love. No.
You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love. No I am not.
Let's go further back. Fine.
The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. Star's don't have hearts. So the player, too, is information from a star. Stars don't store information. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by... I don't think you really understand the world.
Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. I guess I did. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. I guess I did. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons". No I didn't.
Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars". No I didn't.
Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. That's what it is. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. I AM playing a game! Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen. You jmean like right now?
You are the player, reading words... I KNOW!
Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive This is getting ridiculous.
You. You. You are alive. I KNOW!
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees No I didn't.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream No I didn't.
and the universe said I love you YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you have played the game well YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said everything you need is within you YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are stronger than you know YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are the daylight YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are the night YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said the light you seek is within you YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are not alone YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
and the universe said I love you because you are love. YOU ARE NOT THE UNIVERSE!
And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love. I am not either of those things.
You are the player. I know.
Wake up. No.
My reactions are in red.
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Remember those versions that minecraft pranked us with? Specifically:
Minecraft 2.0
Minecraft 1.VR-Pre1
Snapshot 15w14a
Minecraft 3D
Those are still downloadable! Watch this video for 2.0:
To download the other ones you need to make a folder in the versions folder for minecraft and put the client and JSON file for the versions in there. They all need to be named the same aside from file extensions. Once you do that, you will be able to choose that version when making a new profile with the minecraft launcher.
I am a practical person, and I think the poem is a bunch of guff. I found a texture pack that replaced the end credits with a lot of what you guys have been saying.
Well I guess we could congratulate them then?.
Who PLAYERNAME?
Well yeah, They did just kinda beat the game.
Wait, this game has an end?
Uh yeah, we're it.
What, so defeating that easy dragon thing is the end?
Yup.
Despite the fact the Wither's harder?
Well yeah.
That kinda sucks.
Of course it does, the ending was entirely rushed just so I could be announced at MineCon.
Well then, I suppose we should do some kind of proper congratulations thing. With fireworks and the like.
I guess. I know! How about we do some kind of universal truth type ending, where like, beating the dragon somehow allows you to talk to the gods of the universe, and it would be a poem, and it would be full of fancy font things like: §f§k§a§b§5
Nah sounds kind of lame.
Well how about some kind of pipe dream land, where PLAYERNAME is transported through fluffy pink clouds in transparent pipes whilst an upbeat jazz version of one of the songs plays over the top.
Nah, sounds a bit too Japanese. How about we have some kind of mini-game through out the credits?
Seriously? That gimmick. Most games just Let you smash letters!
But it can be fun...
Shh.
OOH HEY! We can have some kind of emotional song, maybe like going up some kind of elevator with something only hinted at during the course of the game!
Or we could have it over the top of the lyrics to the song in many different languages, in an attempt to show we're multicutural.
Or you know, we could just flash up a screen that says 'U R A WINNAR'
...
BWhat?
Seriously? You want to put up a screen in that horrible, horrible spelling?
Ok, Ok, I get it.
Wow this conversation is going slowly, but at least it's almost over.
Don't give PLAYERNAME false hope, this is only about half way through.
Seriously?.
Yup, normally about this point, the other guys would be yammering about that universal truth.
Other guys?
Yeah, the guys we replaced who would normally be here.
Right.....
Well what should we do for this ending then?
All things considered, we can't just copy other games.
All things considered, that sort of crap happens all the time.
We could attempt to teach PLAYERNAME something, like how these credits and different colours are done.
We could I guess, but there's not much to it. I guess it'll fill some space.
Well, basically what happens is that it uses the symbol symbol. Or the funny s thing.
You mean this: § ?
Yeah that. Then all you do is stick a letter after it, all of which can be found on the minecraft wiki 'Formatting Codes' page.
At this point I should tell you that you can only use it in the end poem, the credits and splashes, or you can copy/paste it into writable books, although it won't show until you start writing.
Anyway. I have an idea. We can do some kind of satyrical ending.
That's a good idea!
How about, we just take the **** out of games?
For example, just like how Pacman is just 255 levels and glitches after 256 due to the hexade-
Uh, I'll stop there, you look confused.
How about how the original SMB had extra levels for every block and letter outside of level -1, which is actually just [Blank Space] - 1
Well, I'd say it's more intelligent than just saying Call of Duty is for five year olds.
True. But how about we just do some kind of satryical speech on endings to video games?
What like brentalfloss did a song?
You beat the game, you're feelin' pretty cool, you stayed up all night and missed a day of school, you played like a champ, so what do you get? 37 pounds of Jack s§k§k§k.
Shush Brent. Yes, like how he did a song.
What if I told you we've been doing this all along.
What if I told you this is the ending.
Well then, this has been a pretty crappy ending.
Still better than the original.
True. Anyway, I'm off now
Hey, where are you going?
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
Oops almost forgot. CONGRATULATIONS ON BEATING THE ENDER DRAGON!
Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.
That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.
I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.
It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.
That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.
Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.
They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.
What did this player dream?
This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.
Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?
It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].
It cannot read that thought.
No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.
Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?
Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.
But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.
To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.
Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.
It reads our thoughts.
Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.
And yet they play the game.
But it would be so easy to tell them...
Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.
I will not tell the player how to live.
The player is growing restless.
I will tell the player a story.
But not the truth.
No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.
Give it a body, again.
Yes. Player...
Use its name.
PLAYERNAME. Player of games.
Good.
Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.
Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.
We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was a player.
The player was you, PLAYERNAME.
Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.
Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.
Let's go back.
The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.
And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.
And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.
You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.
Let's go further back.
The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...
Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".
Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".
Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.
You are the player, reading words...
Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive
You. You. You are alive.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream
and the universe said I love you
and the universe said you have played the game well
and the universe said everything you need is within you
and the universe said you are stronger than you know
and the universe said you are the daylight
and the universe said you are the night
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
and the universe said the light you seek is within you
and the universe said you are not alone
and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing
and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
and the universe said I love you because you are love.
And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.
You are the player.
Wake up.
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Beep beep I'm a sheep, I said beep beep I'm a sheep
I've read the credits, they are good. If you don't know the meaning of those words, you shouldn't take them away from others. It says you've ended the short dream of a game, and now you should dream again, dream better in your real world. It says you are the universe, everything is within you... Really, it can help some peoples. It isn't just inspiring, it is the true. If you did all that in the game, you can do it all again in real life, that's what the credits tell you.
I've seen the "Game Theory" video before, the one that @Darkfire_057 posted earlier in this thread, and I really like it. I think that video comes closest to how I interpreted the End Poem.
I am currently in the very early stages of writing a Minecraft fanfic (or "Minefic") story which expands on the End Poem. My protagonist will be an "accidental immortal", (one who gained immortality by accident), and is attempting to establish dialog with the two Beings from the End Poem, by visiting numerous different worlds, finding an End Portal, defeating the Ender Dragon and returning through the exit portal, in the hope that one such attempt will allow two-way communication with these godlike Beings.
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Hi, I'm Augur and I'm from New Zealand (NZ). Just call me "Augur". I'm an older person playing Minecraft Xbox 360 Legacy Console Edition without Xbox Gold (no online gaming, sorry), so please don't hate on the old. 😄
t has been reported that some victims of torture, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not WAKE UP. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren't being tortured. The only way that they realized they needed to WAKE UP was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to WAKE UP. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP.
And who would have guessed: The last line in the Xbox 360 credits talk is:
WAKE UP
Perhaps it is just a joke, but maybe their is truth to it. It creeped me out when I saw it and made the connection. Well, have a good day.
Just watch this, it tells the whole story
Its very simple, It took me along time to figure it out and its something I've needed to do for a long time "Wake Up"
^^^^ That is what it means
This is BEFORE the 1.9 update (because I am not sure what could happen). The ending is awkward for me to see due to the updates that have occurred after the end screen pops up. The wither for example can own the ender dragon. There are different paths to take when it comes to Minecraft now. Some people kill the ender dragon near the beginning of the game before carrying on with their XP farms, and giant redstone generator cart of doom. (Just some gibberish I thought of.) They really need to do something. I feel weird about seeing it, but if it just vanished (personally to me), it would seem so weird to not see it.
Why I said BEFORE the 1.9 update: something might happen with the game.
", sans-serif">-SlandersPete
IT IS THE END OF MINECRAFT.
but, it's the beginning of minecraft 2.0
at least that's how i see it *flies away on a spatula because that's how cool am I*
Why are people complaining about the ending? I'd take "pseudo philosophical garbage" over "Congurations! You beat game!" any day of the week. Why? Because it's creative and how many games do you know that make you question reality besides Portal 2? That's right. Not many.
Think DANGEROUSLY Live EXTRAORDINARILY Click here to learn how to reason
watch this video -- http://www.islamreligion.com/videos/10888/does-science-argue-for-or-against-god/
Video description : After reading most of the posts, Everyone thinks this game has no propose. But if compared to real life, how do we exist? In science, did we exist by accident? In a tiny planet that beats all the inconvenience of the world. Is there a creator puzzling us? watch the video to get a scientific conclusion.
I think this is really just supposed to be a heart-touching poem. After the poem, you get credits, and somewhere in there it says who made the end poem. I think Markus (Notch) just hired someone to make a nice long poem at the end, which can be skipped with [esc] for those of you with no patience or appreciation for literature. And it does make sense, but requires some thinking.From my perspective, it is saying that in Minecraft, you have built many structures and went on many great adventures. And then it compares your player to you in real life. It says that the player is a manifestation of yourself. You have expressed your ideas. And you have built many things. You have killed the Ender Dragon, the hardest mob.
Every Answer Is Wrong In This Topic, The True Reason is That All The Worlds You Play In Are Just Dreams Of A Real Player, You, And That Every Time You Finish A Dream, You Make Another Better One From The Last, Along With Millions Of Other Players, In A Endless Cycle In The Unknown World, Defeating The Final Challenge 1 Dream After Another, Forever, Always Building Better, Fighting Better, And Playing Better, From The Last To The Next.
Basicaly, Its That The Game Has No End, Even Though There Is, The Last Game Always Ends, But A New One Replaces It.
This is my Entire reaction:
My reactions are in red.
Remember those versions that minecraft pranked us with? Specifically:
Those are still downloadable! Watch this video for 2.0:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQdu9LKAdIU
To download the other ones you need to make a folder in the versions folder for minecraft and put the client and JSON file for the versions in there. They all need to be named the same aside from file extensions. Once you do that, you will be able to choose that version when making a new profile with the minecraft launcher.
15w14a is on this link:
http://minecraft.gamepedia.com/15w14a
1.RV-Pre1 is here:
http://minecraft.gamepedia.com/1.RV-Pre1
Minecraft 3D is here:
https://minecraft.gamepedia.com/Java_Edition_3D_Shareware_v1.34
I am a practical person, and I think the poem is a bunch of guff. I found a texture pack that replaced the end credits with a lot of what you guys have been saying.
Well I guess we could congratulate them then?.
Who PLAYERNAME?
Well yeah, They did just kinda beat the game.
Wait, this game has an end?
Uh yeah, we're it.
What, so defeating that easy dragon thing is the end?
Yup.
Despite the fact the Wither's harder?
Well yeah.
That kinda sucks.
Of course it does, the ending was entirely rushed just so I could be announced at MineCon.
Well then, I suppose we should do some kind of proper congratulations thing. With fireworks and the like.
I guess. I know! How about we do some kind of universal truth type ending, where like, beating the dragon somehow allows you to talk to the gods of the universe, and it would be a poem, and it would be full of fancy font things like: §f§k§a§b§5
Nah sounds kind of lame.
Well how about some kind of pipe dream land, where PLAYERNAME is transported through fluffy pink clouds in transparent pipes whilst an upbeat jazz version of one of the songs plays over the top.
Nah, sounds a bit too Japanese. How about we have some kind of mini-game through out the credits?
Seriously? That gimmick. Most games just Let you smash letters!
But it can be fun...
Shh.
OOH HEY! We can have some kind of emotional song, maybe like going up some kind of elevator with something only hinted at during the course of the game!
Or we could have it over the top of the lyrics to the song in many different languages, in an attempt to show we're multicutural.
Or you know, we could just flash up a screen that says 'U R A WINNAR'
...
BWhat?
Seriously? You want to put up a screen in that horrible, horrible spelling?
Ok, Ok, I get it.
Wow this conversation is going slowly, but at least it's almost over.
Don't give PLAYERNAME false hope, this is only about half way through.
Seriously?.
Yup, normally about this point, the other guys would be yammering about that universal truth.
Other guys?
Yeah, the guys we replaced who would normally be here.
Right.....
Well what should we do for this ending then?
All things considered, we can't just copy other games.
All things considered, that sort of crap happens all the time.
We could attempt to teach PLAYERNAME something, like how these credits and different colours are done.
We could I guess, but there's not much to it. I guess it'll fill some space.
Well, basically what happens is that it uses the symbol symbol. Or the funny s thing.
You mean this: § ?
Yeah that. Then all you do is stick a letter after it, all of which can be found on the minecraft wiki 'Formatting Codes' page.
At this point I should tell you that you can only use it in the end poem, the credits and splashes, or you can copy/paste it into writable books, although it won't show until you start writing.
Anyway. I have an idea. We can do some kind of satyrical ending.
That's a good idea!
How about, we just take the **** out of games?
For example, just like how Pacman is just 255 levels and glitches after 256 due to the hexade-
Uh, I'll stop there, you look confused.
How about how the original SMB had extra levels for every block and letter outside of level -1, which is actually just [Blank Space] - 1
Well, I'd say it's more intelligent than just saying Call of Duty is for five year olds.
True. But how about we just do some kind of satryical speech on endings to video games?
What like brentalfloss did a song?
You beat the game, you're feelin' pretty cool, you stayed up all night and missed a day of school, you played like a champ, so what do you get? 37 pounds of Jack s§k§k§k.
Shush Brent. Yes, like how he did a song.
What if I told you we've been doing this all along.
What if I told you this is the ending.
Well then, this has been a pretty crappy ending.
Still better than the original.
True. Anyway, I'm off now
Hey, where are you going?
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
Oops almost forgot. CONGRATULATIONS ON BEATING THE ENDER DRAGON!
Yeah, um congratulations PLAYERNAME.
Just curious, that's all.
I see the player you mean.
PLAYERNAME?
Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.
That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.
I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.
It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.
That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.
Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.
They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.
What did this player dream?
This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.
Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?
It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].
It cannot read that thought.
No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.
Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?
Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.
But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.
To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.
Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.
It reads our thoughts.
Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.
And yet they play the game.
But it would be so easy to tell them...
Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.
I will not tell the player how to live.
The player is growing restless.
I will tell the player a story.
But not the truth.
No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.
Give it a body, again.
Yes. Player...
Use its name.
PLAYERNAME. Player of games.
Good.
Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.
Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.
We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was a player.
The player was you, PLAYERNAME.
Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.
Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.
Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.
Let's go back.
The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.
And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.
And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.
You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.
Let's go further back.
The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...
Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".
Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".
Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.
You are the player, reading words...
Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive
You. You. You are alive.
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again
and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream
and the universe said I love you
and the universe said you have played the game well
and the universe said everything you need is within you
and the universe said you are stronger than you know
and the universe said you are the daylight
and the universe said you are the night
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
and the universe said the light you seek is within you
and the universe said you are not alone
and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing
and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
and the universe said I love you because you are love.
And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.
You are the player.
Wake up.
Beep beep I'm a sheep, I said beep beep I'm a sheep
I've read the credits, they are good. If you don't know the meaning of those words, you shouldn't take them away from others. It says you've ended the short dream of a game, and now you should dream again, dream better in your real world. It says you are the universe, everything is within you... Really, it can help some peoples. It isn't just inspiring, it is the true. If you did all that in the game, you can do it all again in real life, that's what the credits tell you.
I do not like credits, after they say my Nick, I give Escape. But once I read it, and I liked it.
I've seen the "Game Theory" video before, the one that @Darkfire_057 posted earlier in this thread, and I really like it. I think that video comes closest to how I interpreted the End Poem.
I am currently in the very early stages of writing a Minecraft fanfic (or "Minefic") story which expands on the End Poem. My protagonist will be an "accidental immortal", (one who gained immortality by accident), and is attempting to establish dialog with the two Beings from the End Poem, by visiting numerous different worlds, finding an End Portal, defeating the Ender Dragon and returning through the exit portal, in the hope that one such attempt will allow two-way communication with these godlike Beings.
Hi, I'm Augur and I'm from New Zealand (NZ). Just call me "Augur". I'm an older person playing Minecraft Xbox 360 Legacy Console Edition without Xbox Gold (no online gaming, sorry), so please don't hate on the old. 😄