Musings on the Restrictions of My A(n) Cube

My primary cube is a reflection of me.

I think that’s true for any cube, to some extent. Creating always leads to put something of yourself into it, deliberate or not.

But for my primary cube, the A(n) Cube, that is the explicit point: its driving design goal is to capture what I like, and what I like in Magic. That shapes broader strokes of the cube, like the lack of explicit archetypes but a notable plethora of tokens and dearth of graveyard synergies. That shapes individual card choices: Irencrag Pyromancer is probably a little underpowered in the cube, but was a hallmark of the Izzet draw-two Standard deck I played on Arena during one of the crests of my Magic-playing journey. And it shapes the various restrictions of the cube, as listed on its overview page.

The Restrictions

Eternal

Eternal: cards from throughout the history of Magic, with no legality or rarity restrictions

This is the opposite of a restriction, actually. But I have no particular affection for any given era or flavor of Magic that would make me want to restrict the card pool to reflect it. I started after the old-school, old-border era that is a particular design fixation for cubes, so the cards are generally more academically interesting (derogatory) than nostalgically enticing to me.

Most of my Magic playing history has been digital: I learned to play from Duels of the Planeswalkers. I didn’t start playing against real people until several years later and several ebbs and flows playing on Arena, and even then the digital avatars still made it feel like a primarily solo experience. I remember the cards I played with in Standard to check off my dailies with some fondness, but the economy means playing draft (and thus the current set) was a rare treat I did sporadically, and remember little of.

Starting to play in paper meant Commander for constructed and pre-releases for limited. My pool of paper cards has generally been feast or famine: nearly every card in existence or the cards available to me in my deck. Eternal seemed like a way to mesh these two approaches: every card in potentia for the cube, but in practice I will generally only know what ends up in the cube itself.

But really, this (lack of) restriction is a matter of enjoyment, plain and simple. One of the main things I value in games, especially Magic, is variety, so why restrict the card pool any further?

True Singleton

True Singleton: no more than one copy of each card, including non-basic lands

My preferred way to play Commander is borrowing someone else’s deck, having them tell me nothing about it, and puzzling together how it works and the synergies it entails while playing. When building Commander decks, I deliberately put together a list online and then wait a month or six before ordering and assembling the cards in paper so by the time I sit down to play with it, I don’t Really remember what was in the deck at all. True singleton just gives more opportunities for me to forget that something is in the cube, and more opportunities to see a card with new eyes and have to figure out how it can fit in the current context.

There’s more threads here, probably: If I was to pick up a new constructed format, it would be Canadian Highlander (a format I watch content for a lot despite never playing), so the singleton concept feels important to me. I’m a fan of spreadsheet aesthetics: the cube is perfectly divided across colors and I don’t think it’ll ever deviate from that despite that not being an explicit restriction, given how satisfying I find it. Something about true singleton scratches the same itch in my brain.

Heart of the Cards

Heart of the Cards: no tutors besides land tutors

Many of my friends are surprised I don’t play chess given I adore games and puzzle-y thinking, but I like the game being an active participant in the proceedings, setting up problems and solutions and making me react. Tutors feel like neutering the game’s ability to play too.

My first Commander deck was the Obscura precon helmed by Kamiz, Obscura Oculus, a deck I lovingly describe as “having about 12 subthemes glued together as a main theme.” The Commander deck I built that has lasted the test of time where others have been retired is a Verrak, Warped Sengir deck, which I often preface by saying “I will either gain a bunch of life, or be at 20 by turn 5; there’s not a lot of in-between and I don’t know which will be true this game.” I love the surprise and feeling like I’m piecing together a plan with what I have. I’m reminded of Salubrious Snail’s video about not short-circuiting the fun of an EDH deck. For me, the fun is figuring out the details on the fly based on what I have, and tutors feel like short-circuit that by giving me a smidge more agency than I want.

Cards are 1D

Cards are 1D: no double-faced cards; cube is in clear sleeves for a reason

I really like the tactile feel of unsleeved Magic cards. It might be from my long affection for playing games using French-suited playing cards: tiến lên has a special place in my heart and remains my favorite pastime at family gatherings, and my cousins and I were taught Texas Hold’em Poker at a young age (to give the adults a chance to win back the lì xì they gave out to the kids, I say as mostly a joke). But from repeatedly fanning out and closing my hand of cards, to brushing my fingers against the edge of cards when I draw, the texture brings me a simple, physical joy.

I’d play Magic unsleeved at all times, if it wasn’t lightly fiscally irresponsible - my policy with Commander decks is that they get sleeved when a single card is worth more than a pack of sleeves (approximately $10), and some of them (my beloved first precon, for instance), still isn’t. I sleeved the cube pretty much entirely because I knew I’d struggle to get people to play it if it wasn’t.

I also remember going to the March of the Machine pre-release and being incensed that it would be by far easiest to sleeve my deck because I had approximately 12 double-faced cards (transforming permanents was the main archetype of my deck, even) and opened 3 of the replacement cards.

At least clear sleeves let me sort of pretend.

Leeches are Good, Actually

Leeches are Good, Actually: no “persistent”, un-interactable mechanics like day/night, ring tempts, dungeon/initiative/monarch, energy, speed, etc. The exception is emblems created by Planeswalker ultimates.

I bear no particular ill will to these mechanics, honestly. I enjoy quite a lot of them, actually. But playing them primarily in digital Arena, which manages them for you, makes me realize how little I want to manage them in paper.

The exception would be Ascend, the core mechanic during my first era of Arena playing in Rivals of Ixalan. If there was a card with Ascend I wanted in the cube, it would be in here. I even had a Commander deck centered on Ascend before it got retired for being both too same-y and not getting to Ascend enough. Maybe someday, though given we’ve already returned to Ixalan recently I find it pretty unlikely.

Normal Limited Rules

Normal Limited Rules: 1v1 games, 40 card minimum deck size, 20 starting life, basic lands available post-draft

I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel here. I enjoy limited when I play it, and I haven’t gotten the chance to do it oodles; I see no reason to mess with the formula before I’ve gotten a chance to savor it. ^[1]

An

An: every card must include my first name (“An”) in the card name

This is the biggest restriction on why the cube is the way it is, and why the cube exists at all. I had a Commander deck with this restriction, helmed by Animar, Soul of Elements. But I didn’t like the exception carved out for non-basic lands to make the deck function; it felt like it diluted the uniqueness of the deck and gave me a bad taste in my mouth when compiling the list. But I also didn’t like the thought of going down to mono-blue and cutting the cool cards from red and green. Plus, I never really got a chance to consider what was out there for white and black. I don’t remember exactly when I learned about cube as a format, but a cube seemed like a way to get everything I wanted.

Unlike the rest of the restrictions, this one isn’t grounded based on what I like as a player, but as a designer. Restriction breeding creativity is very true for me. I went through a period where many of my Commander deck ideas were powered by various Scryfall regular expressions. ^[2] More than sparking ideas, though, design restrictions also restricts my decision paralysis, and let me go through with actually Making something. I put together the first version of A(n) Cube by literally going through every card that satisfied the query "o:/an/" in Scryfall (subdivided by color and non-creature type to keep the count manageable) over the course of several months, whereas I’m terrified just typing out the idea of building a cube from a blank canvas.

Because this is primarily a design restriction, I think its pretty plausible that a player could play the cube without ever knowing about it at all. This is pretty different from other notable cube restrictions I can think of, where the main restriction is often the selling point, like in set cubes. Even when players know about it, it only really comes up incidentally: “What could you be holding up? Counterspell? … Wait that can’t be in the cube” or “oh sick, I didn’t think about how Cogwork Librarian could be in the cube”, but doesn’t affect the play experience in a directly material way. Its akin to a budget restriction, I suppose, which is an odd thought to potentially mull over more.

Its impact is still seen, though, but in some more subtle fallout: the lack of non-basic lands (I am literally the only person pleading with Wizards of the Coast to announce a Dimir tap land with “an” in the name) which helped coincidentally support my love of one color (plus splash) decks. The emphasis of double-pipped cards as potentially-hard-to-cast power outliers as a result. The surprising lack of good card draw spells in blue. The restraint I have in not dumping in a bunch of cheap black reanimation spells (consider: Reanimate, Animate Dead, Dance of the Dead, Necromancy, Corpse Dance, and Goryo’s Vengeance could All be in the cube).

But I think it’s nice telling people about the restriction. Its a fun hook for a cube, sure, but it means something for me. In the past I’ve had mixed feelings on my name, my hobbies, my work. This cube is unabashedly all about me: I’m the main design restriction, I’m the reason behind all of the restrictions and the list of cards and the play experience, I’m the goal and the point of the cube. The cube’s not just a reflection of me, it’s a celebration of me, and I want people to know about it.

Footnotes & Citations