ABSTRACT
My father once ate a cookie made for diabetics and pronounced with some vehemence that it seemed to have been put through a taste extractor. I was reminded of his label when I looked at the transcripts of the Grade 6 students playing Myst. The game of Myst seems to have been put through a story extractor. What remains on the screen after the evacuation of plot and characters is the exotic and fascinating setting, some artifacts of the action, and a few small clues about what is supposed to have happened.
