It has reached my attention that, by being a big star who knows it and lets everybody else know it, you either ego-surf alot on the internet or have one of your disciples do it for you. In that case if you, Billy Mitchell Video Game Superstar, happen to stumble upon this page in the backwaters of the internet and grace Last to Blame with your presence, I would love to interview you and publish your answers to let the world know "who is the real Billy Mitchell? And not that phony one in that fictional movie 'The King of Kong', who clearly isn't you, Billy Mitchell Video Game Superstar."
I already have the questions ready. Answer anytime, I update my blog daily.
* I've noticed you are a patriotic American, in which your pride swells deep in your heart, as it does for other Americans who are equally red-blooded. I want to ask: do you wear an American tie so that fellow Americans won't mistake you and your beard and long hair for a foreigner?
* This is a little personal, you don't have to answer, but all us guys want to know: during sex in which you are pleasing your partner immensely with your "Donkey Kong", do you ever fail to reach the "kill screen"? Do euphenisms like "It was a rogue fireball!" and "I require a live crowd to watch me for verification purposes" help?
* Wouldn't you prefer to be the master of a masculine video game like Missle Command as Roy Schildt aka "Mr Awesome" is, rather than be the master of eating and smashing barrels like you are? Hasn't the efforts of Mr Awesome to save digital cities of the future been more relevant than chasing after a chick captured by a gorilla whom you can never actually rescue?
* Shouldn't a celebrity like yourself be allowed to bend the rules so you can legally murder Steve Wiebe without penalty? Other celebrities go scot-free when pulled over for speeding, so can't the authorities help a celebrity like you by ending this rivalry with Wiebe with a knife in the back during a clandestine "head-to-head" match?
* I would never insult you by inferring that you have you have ever cried in your life, being a Video Game Superstar, but can you tell us: Is Steve Wiebe a "girl" for crying? Does crying certify his status as "non-Video Game Superstar"? I mean, why would he cry? It's just a stupid video game almost thirty years into the past that no one cares about.
* Isn't the proper way to resolve this rivalry, once and for all, is to create a new game, say "Donkey Kong 2K9" that updates this retro game to current-generation specifications and features an immersive 3D open world environment? That way, both of you can go online mutliplayer and frag each other with railguns and melee with hammers; then, we can crown the real "King of Kong".
* Can you get Brian Kuh to break into this guy's garage for me? I think he's plotting to get the high score on Donkey Kong as well.
* If you saw a barrel in real life, would you prefer to jump over it or smash it? No one would judge you if you smashed it; it's a barrel - it's practcally begging you to smash it.
* You've likened the controversy around you to the abortion issue. Does that mean that you can describe your supporters as "pro-Billy Mitchell" and your detractors as "pro-get a life"?
* Does you thumb ever get tired? Would you give Steve Wiebe the thumbs up? Or thumbs down? Would your followers kill anyone you gave the "thumbs down" to?
Thank you in advance; the world needs to know, and you need to get the record straight.
* EDIT: I just watched the movie "Chasing Ghosts" and discovered to shock and comedy that Roy Shildt thinks the way I do and considers Missle Command a more masculine game and therefore a more important game than Donkey Kong or Pac-Man. Only I was making a joke. You know, I do feel bad for making fun of the guy with a mullet, but at the same time I'm going to keep this up because I still find this amusing.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Rebuttal: "The King of Kong" and the Loss of Innocence in the Age of Compulsory Media Street Smarts
I am a cultured man; I like to take part in the finer things in life. I like good books, fine wine, exquisite cuisine and fit clothes that both allow me to express myself and at the same time don't speak for me. I like to do all these things whenever I'm not busy shooting zombies in the head with a shotgun.
That's why last night you would have found me at a jazz bar listening to a Brazillian band from Denmark, Mais Uma, whilst eating a cheese platter made of no less than three cheeses (brie, blue and a interesting orange one) and sipping red wine under the stars on a mild Shanghai night. My girlfriend as my wonderful company, it was a magnificent night of culture and discourse.
That's right. You know that James Bond guy? I live the same life as him.
Of course, he doesn't have a neighbor that starts hammering at 6:45 AM, nor does he likely find the trash of a ripped open envelope with discarded fish parts in it on his window (and I live on the tenth floor - are you suspecting the same neighnors like me?) To compare, James Bond runs around and saves the world - well, at least the world as the Brits no it. Myself, I can't really compare with a guy like that, and let's not forget he's fictional.
All the same, James Bond wouldn't be living it up with such culture and great company while having a serious discussion about video games. That's right: go back to you Pussy Galore, you misogynist.
Joanne and I enjoyed our wine and cheese while debating the integrity of "The King of Kong", the movie I had just analyzed yesterday. We had seen the film the night before (just as I said - I live every day like a king!) and now had gotten a chance to discuss it together.
Joanne had be intrigued by the film, and had searched for further information on the film the next day. On Wikipedia, IMDB and on other sources, she found that certain facts had been omitted or altered to present a narrative and form a particular bias. Several of the key participants in the movie have complained that the movie does not present the actual truth.
Without cutting and pasting from the end-of-all-information-Wikipedia and giving a loose paraphrasing of the key facts, they claim that: Wiebe and Mitchell are on better terms than the movie suggests; that Mitchell had indeed met Wiebe several times and had not snubbed him as suggested by Mitchell continuing to drive past the restaurant that Wiebe was dining in; that they are not rivals since a third party, Tim Sczerby, had beaten Mitchell's 1982 score in 2000; that though Wiebe's taped game of a million-plus was rejected, the high score reverted to one Wiebe had made earlier; and that the million-plus score of Mitchell submitted by tape was actually eventually rescinded.
I know - the glorification of facts (gleaned from Wikipedia, no less) makes for pedantic exposition and wordy writing. People who read for fun and English teachers everywhere won't be pleased. However, since this is an argument, we have to do this right.
Joanne makes a good point: "The King of Kong" is a documentary, but this is a documentary that is anything but objective. Rather, it is a slick piece of filmmaking that tells a good story at the expense of its participants. The bias in the movie goes out of its way to slander Mitchell as a villian, and taints his public image. A documentary deals with real people with lives, and a film like this can go to have dire ramifications for its participants.
As a documentarian filmmaker, Joanne contends, you are dealing with news since you are telling stories about reality; this makes you a journalist. And even though there is no Hippocratic Oath-equivalent for journalists as there is for doctors, there is still expected a high standard for the integrity of truth, both by the profession itself and the public that consumes this news. An infamous instance of professional journalistic perjury is the 1980 news story "Jimmy's World", in which Janet Cooke faked a news story about an eight year-old heroin addict. It is a well-written, if fake, story that would win Cooke a Pulitzer Prize. Even after admitting her guilt and returning the prize, Cooke was vilified for her forgery of the truth and did not work in journalism ever again.
Joanne contends that from watching the movie we are led to form a specific negative opinion of Billy Mitchell. While many of the audience of the film have and will never meet Mitchell, we are given proof of his capacity for evil and therefore think poorly of this man. If a documentary is made about a true event and involves real people, then it is owed to these real people to depict the truth as a whole. Report the facts truthfully, and let the audience judge for themselves. Be a journalist, be objective, and reveal the truth.
Strong argument. Joanne has a point here. Also, I'd like to point out, as she points out, that Mitchell being a douchebag is besides the point. Perhaps he really is; but since many of us won't meet him in real life and get to enjoy a photo op with him, his American tie and his thumb, we shouldn't judge him from a movie. After all, many of us have preconceived ideas and opinions of celebrities (like gaming superstar Mitchell) when we don't even know them. If a movie star leaves his wife for a much younger woman, we are all shocked and dismayed at such callous behavior; but, we don't know the truth. We don't know these people, so it is unfair to judge them.
At this point, I'd like to say that while she emphatically defended her point with passion and raw gusto, at times her points reduced me, a veritable think-tank of video game opinion, to contemplative silence. However, since we were drinking wine and eating cheese under the stars while listening to bossa nova music, I wasn't at a loss at being quiet and thinking while looking cool. You know, I prefer draft beer, but put a glass of wine in my hand and all of a sudden I'm tossing out nonsequiturs and quips like I'm in a throw down with Dorothy Parker. "And then the cat said, 'Me-ower corrupts, and absolute me-ower corrupts absolutely.'
Terrible, I know. Not New Yorker material. I didn't actually come up with anything last night, well, anything useful, but then I was drinking wine.
I'll come back with this: I knew about the discrepancies with the truth when I wrote the analysis. My personal contention is that Mitchell is a douchebag, but that wasn't my argument, and neither do I believe that it is the argument of the movie. As I already wrote, I think the movie is about the fact that in order for Wiebe to become Donkey Kong champion, he has to break the cult of personality of Mitchell and suffer Mitchell scheming and machinations. Wiebe can't just play video games well to win; instead, his worth as a "good" man is tested against the worth of Mitchell, a man who values his fame, is narcissistic and enjoys his capacity to dominant and influence others for his own gain; this makes him a "bad" man.
Mitchell probably isn't a "bad" man in terms of your usual community standards. Its clear that he supports many charities as he does help the culture of competitive classic gaming (he is donating the Donkey Kong game cabinet with which he set his high score in 1982 to the potential Video Game Hall of Fame in Ottumwa, Iowa). An avowed family man, he does not put his family before video games, as Wiebe is unfortunately shown doing in the movie. In fact, Mitchell and his family aren't featured in the movie, leaving Wiebe to be seen as the only stable and normal participant. If he met me, he'd probably give me a thumbs up.
However, just because certain things were fudged in the movie doesn't mean we can't learn certain things. I found it impossible that the documentarians had a camera with Mitchell the exact time Wiebe was at Funspot setting his record. If you pay attention, you'll see that Brian Kuh didn't go off and had a conversation with Mitchell on the phone - it appears that the audio and video aren't in sync. Also, the end where Wiebe breaks the record is only seen by the camera observing the screen, not on Wiebe and his son. The shot of his son hugging his father at the point of vindication is probably taken from another time and in another context. It happened, but it just didn't happen like it did in real life.
The difference? Movie magic.
With editing and the re-arranging of certain events, you can do anything. Mitchell contends that he said hi to Wiebe at the film's climatic moment that purports the first meeting of the two in which Mitchell apparently snubs Wiebe - an insult the whole high school will be buzzing about for weeks until the next snubbing. It's easy enough to edit it where Mitchell's "hello" winds up on the cutting floor next to the "truth".
But you know what, Joanne? It doesn't matter. (And, imagine me waving a glass of wine in my hand as I expound my argument)
See, this is a movie. Even though the audience may learn things from this movie about real people, it's a tight and well-told story from an equally well-made movie. As a work of art, it has an argument - or thesis or main idea what have you. This main theme is sound, even under scrutiny (go on, go back and re-read all my superfluous diction). The liberties make for better storytelling, making things more exciting and dramatic.
It's a documentary, but we shoudn't take a documentary as being a mirror of truth. These are movies made by people who have an opinion, and no matter how objective the person purports to be this bias will still come through. We are all media literate in this age of information where every body wants your vote, your dollar, your faith. Every piece of information has a spin on it depending on where it's from. I'm sure by now that every person knows to distrust what they read on the internet without first discovering the source of the information, even though many people take Wikipedia as fact (citation needed).
In fact, I'm sure you can take the footage shot of "King of Kong", give it to two different directors and come out with two different perspectives. What makes "King of Kong" and this perspective relevant and important is that the filmmaker is trying to say something specific, have a particular argument. And he did it well. Very well.
Let's bring up Michael Moore. This guys makes great movies; the thing though, is that they are his version of the truth. It isn't the actual truth, and I can honestly say that because you have to seek the truth yourself. Moore's mastery is such that he makes an incredible argument that, during watching, simply go along with it. Another documentarian with a humongous bias is Nick Broomfield. While we may all be completely certain that Aileen Wuornos was sent to death legally insane in "Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer", contrary to Florida law, we should remember - we're not medical professionals, but instead led along a well-made argument to believe that which Nick Broomfield believes.
I love the William S. Burroughs quote at the beginning of the movie: "This is a war universe. War all the time. There may be other universes, but ours seems to be based on war and games." It fits this argument, because a war is being constantly waged: the battlefield is your mind, and the two sides are you and everybody else that wants you to believe what they believe.
Seth Gordon, the director, has an opinion, and made a great argument to go along with it. Along the way, there are some artistic licences taken to enhance his argument but we should not expect anything less.
Let's look at two other movies, both fictional. "Fargo" (1996) is a movie that has an opening card that states it is based on a true story; what follows in an incredible story that plays to our notion that yes, these crazy things could have happened and heighten the drama we witness. Well, it wasn't based on a true story at all; of all the arguments to prove this, the end credits state just like any other fictional movie that it "wasn't based on a true story and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental". This is a great literary device to tell a story well that drive home the film's message that some people should quit while they're ahead(Showalter and Grimsrud), while some people just don't know how to quit (Jerry Lundegaarde).
Let's look at "Saving Private Ryan" (1998). It is stated again and again for emphasis that Speilberg wanted to present the story as faithfully as possible; actors would go and interview war veterans to get their side of the story. Said veterans all stated upon watching the movie that it was indeed very faithful. However, it's a work of fiction, and as such it has a thesis - a main theme or message - and as such a bias. Let's remind ourselves that, though it was based on true accounts, I'm sure, what we're watching didn't actually happen as it did in real life - it's movie magic. Do soldiers look like movie stars? Are all soldiers as idealistic as Tom Hanks' character? Are we aware that we are watching a image projected onto a 1:1.618 white backdrop, manipluated and edited and scored with music, all with the intention of manipluating our thoughts?
I don't want to make war veterans be all sinister and that. Certainly, "Saving Private Ryan" contains the single best affecting act of violence committed to film, that of the German soldier plunging his knife into the Jewish-American soldier's heart OH-SO-SLOWLY. Yup, good film, important message, awesome battle scenes that will have you ducking if you have Dolby 5.1 sound - is that outdated by now?
Joanne, we should expect bias in all forms of media; we should take pains to figure out the meaning and subtexts of things, lest we be confused with tangential information that gets lost in the spin and tide of persuasion. Also, I want to finish the rest of that cheese platter. James Bond would approve.
That's why last night you would have found me at a jazz bar listening to a Brazillian band from Denmark, Mais Uma, whilst eating a cheese platter made of no less than three cheeses (brie, blue and a interesting orange one) and sipping red wine under the stars on a mild Shanghai night. My girlfriend as my wonderful company, it was a magnificent night of culture and discourse.
That's right. You know that James Bond guy? I live the same life as him.
Of course, he doesn't have a neighbor that starts hammering at 6:45 AM, nor does he likely find the trash of a ripped open envelope with discarded fish parts in it on his window (and I live on the tenth floor - are you suspecting the same neighnors like me?) To compare, James Bond runs around and saves the world - well, at least the world as the Brits no it. Myself, I can't really compare with a guy like that, and let's not forget he's fictional.
All the same, James Bond wouldn't be living it up with such culture and great company while having a serious discussion about video games. That's right: go back to you Pussy Galore, you misogynist.
Joanne and I enjoyed our wine and cheese while debating the integrity of "The King of Kong", the movie I had just analyzed yesterday. We had seen the film the night before (just as I said - I live every day like a king!) and now had gotten a chance to discuss it together.
Joanne had be intrigued by the film, and had searched for further information on the film the next day. On Wikipedia, IMDB and on other sources, she found that certain facts had been omitted or altered to present a narrative and form a particular bias. Several of the key participants in the movie have complained that the movie does not present the actual truth.
Without cutting and pasting from the end-of-all-information-Wikipedia and giving a loose paraphrasing of the key facts, they claim that: Wiebe and Mitchell are on better terms than the movie suggests; that Mitchell had indeed met Wiebe several times and had not snubbed him as suggested by Mitchell continuing to drive past the restaurant that Wiebe was dining in; that they are not rivals since a third party, Tim Sczerby, had beaten Mitchell's 1982 score in 2000; that though Wiebe's taped game of a million-plus was rejected, the high score reverted to one Wiebe had made earlier; and that the million-plus score of Mitchell submitted by tape was actually eventually rescinded.
I know - the glorification of facts (gleaned from Wikipedia, no less) makes for pedantic exposition and wordy writing. People who read for fun and English teachers everywhere won't be pleased. However, since this is an argument, we have to do this right.
Joanne makes a good point: "The King of Kong" is a documentary, but this is a documentary that is anything but objective. Rather, it is a slick piece of filmmaking that tells a good story at the expense of its participants. The bias in the movie goes out of its way to slander Mitchell as a villian, and taints his public image. A documentary deals with real people with lives, and a film like this can go to have dire ramifications for its participants.
As a documentarian filmmaker, Joanne contends, you are dealing with news since you are telling stories about reality; this makes you a journalist. And even though there is no Hippocratic Oath-equivalent for journalists as there is for doctors, there is still expected a high standard for the integrity of truth, both by the profession itself and the public that consumes this news. An infamous instance of professional journalistic perjury is the 1980 news story "Jimmy's World", in which Janet Cooke faked a news story about an eight year-old heroin addict. It is a well-written, if fake, story that would win Cooke a Pulitzer Prize. Even after admitting her guilt and returning the prize, Cooke was vilified for her forgery of the truth and did not work in journalism ever again.
Joanne contends that from watching the movie we are led to form a specific negative opinion of Billy Mitchell. While many of the audience of the film have and will never meet Mitchell, we are given proof of his capacity for evil and therefore think poorly of this man. If a documentary is made about a true event and involves real people, then it is owed to these real people to depict the truth as a whole. Report the facts truthfully, and let the audience judge for themselves. Be a journalist, be objective, and reveal the truth.
Strong argument. Joanne has a point here. Also, I'd like to point out, as she points out, that Mitchell being a douchebag is besides the point. Perhaps he really is; but since many of us won't meet him in real life and get to enjoy a photo op with him, his American tie and his thumb, we shouldn't judge him from a movie. After all, many of us have preconceived ideas and opinions of celebrities (like gaming superstar Mitchell) when we don't even know them. If a movie star leaves his wife for a much younger woman, we are all shocked and dismayed at such callous behavior; but, we don't know the truth. We don't know these people, so it is unfair to judge them.
At this point, I'd like to say that while she emphatically defended her point with passion and raw gusto, at times her points reduced me, a veritable think-tank of video game opinion, to contemplative silence. However, since we were drinking wine and eating cheese under the stars while listening to bossa nova music, I wasn't at a loss at being quiet and thinking while looking cool. You know, I prefer draft beer, but put a glass of wine in my hand and all of a sudden I'm tossing out nonsequiturs and quips like I'm in a throw down with Dorothy Parker. "And then the cat said, 'Me-ower corrupts, and absolute me-ower corrupts absolutely.'
Terrible, I know. Not New Yorker material. I didn't actually come up with anything last night, well, anything useful, but then I was drinking wine.
I'll come back with this: I knew about the discrepancies with the truth when I wrote the analysis. My personal contention is that Mitchell is a douchebag, but that wasn't my argument, and neither do I believe that it is the argument of the movie. As I already wrote, I think the movie is about the fact that in order for Wiebe to become Donkey Kong champion, he has to break the cult of personality of Mitchell and suffer Mitchell scheming and machinations. Wiebe can't just play video games well to win; instead, his worth as a "good" man is tested against the worth of Mitchell, a man who values his fame, is narcissistic and enjoys his capacity to dominant and influence others for his own gain; this makes him a "bad" man.
Mitchell probably isn't a "bad" man in terms of your usual community standards. Its clear that he supports many charities as he does help the culture of competitive classic gaming (he is donating the Donkey Kong game cabinet with which he set his high score in 1982 to the potential Video Game Hall of Fame in Ottumwa, Iowa). An avowed family man, he does not put his family before video games, as Wiebe is unfortunately shown doing in the movie. In fact, Mitchell and his family aren't featured in the movie, leaving Wiebe to be seen as the only stable and normal participant. If he met me, he'd probably give me a thumbs up.
However, just because certain things were fudged in the movie doesn't mean we can't learn certain things. I found it impossible that the documentarians had a camera with Mitchell the exact time Wiebe was at Funspot setting his record. If you pay attention, you'll see that Brian Kuh didn't go off and had a conversation with Mitchell on the phone - it appears that the audio and video aren't in sync. Also, the end where Wiebe breaks the record is only seen by the camera observing the screen, not on Wiebe and his son. The shot of his son hugging his father at the point of vindication is probably taken from another time and in another context. It happened, but it just didn't happen like it did in real life.
The difference? Movie magic.
With editing and the re-arranging of certain events, you can do anything. Mitchell contends that he said hi to Wiebe at the film's climatic moment that purports the first meeting of the two in which Mitchell apparently snubs Wiebe - an insult the whole high school will be buzzing about for weeks until the next snubbing. It's easy enough to edit it where Mitchell's "hello" winds up on the cutting floor next to the "truth".
But you know what, Joanne? It doesn't matter. (And, imagine me waving a glass of wine in my hand as I expound my argument)
See, this is a movie. Even though the audience may learn things from this movie about real people, it's a tight and well-told story from an equally well-made movie. As a work of art, it has an argument - or thesis or main idea what have you. This main theme is sound, even under scrutiny (go on, go back and re-read all my superfluous diction). The liberties make for better storytelling, making things more exciting and dramatic.
It's a documentary, but we shoudn't take a documentary as being a mirror of truth. These are movies made by people who have an opinion, and no matter how objective the person purports to be this bias will still come through. We are all media literate in this age of information where every body wants your vote, your dollar, your faith. Every piece of information has a spin on it depending on where it's from. I'm sure by now that every person knows to distrust what they read on the internet without first discovering the source of the information, even though many people take Wikipedia as fact (citation needed).
In fact, I'm sure you can take the footage shot of "King of Kong", give it to two different directors and come out with two different perspectives. What makes "King of Kong" and this perspective relevant and important is that the filmmaker is trying to say something specific, have a particular argument. And he did it well. Very well.
Let's bring up Michael Moore. This guys makes great movies; the thing though, is that they are his version of the truth. It isn't the actual truth, and I can honestly say that because you have to seek the truth yourself. Moore's mastery is such that he makes an incredible argument that, during watching, simply go along with it. Another documentarian with a humongous bias is Nick Broomfield. While we may all be completely certain that Aileen Wuornos was sent to death legally insane in "Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer", contrary to Florida law, we should remember - we're not medical professionals, but instead led along a well-made argument to believe that which Nick Broomfield believes.
I love the William S. Burroughs quote at the beginning of the movie: "This is a war universe. War all the time. There may be other universes, but ours seems to be based on war and games." It fits this argument, because a war is being constantly waged: the battlefield is your mind, and the two sides are you and everybody else that wants you to believe what they believe.
Seth Gordon, the director, has an opinion, and made a great argument to go along with it. Along the way, there are some artistic licences taken to enhance his argument but we should not expect anything less.
Let's look at two other movies, both fictional. "Fargo" (1996) is a movie that has an opening card that states it is based on a true story; what follows in an incredible story that plays to our notion that yes, these crazy things could have happened and heighten the drama we witness. Well, it wasn't based on a true story at all; of all the arguments to prove this, the end credits state just like any other fictional movie that it "wasn't based on a true story and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental". This is a great literary device to tell a story well that drive home the film's message that some people should quit while they're ahead(Showalter and Grimsrud), while some people just don't know how to quit (Jerry Lundegaarde).
Let's look at "Saving Private Ryan" (1998). It is stated again and again for emphasis that Speilberg wanted to present the story as faithfully as possible; actors would go and interview war veterans to get their side of the story. Said veterans all stated upon watching the movie that it was indeed very faithful. However, it's a work of fiction, and as such it has a thesis - a main theme or message - and as such a bias. Let's remind ourselves that, though it was based on true accounts, I'm sure, what we're watching didn't actually happen as it did in real life - it's movie magic. Do soldiers look like movie stars? Are all soldiers as idealistic as Tom Hanks' character? Are we aware that we are watching a image projected onto a 1:1.618 white backdrop, manipluated and edited and scored with music, all with the intention of manipluating our thoughts?
I don't want to make war veterans be all sinister and that. Certainly, "Saving Private Ryan" contains the single best affecting act of violence committed to film, that of the German soldier plunging his knife into the Jewish-American soldier's heart OH-SO-SLOWLY. Yup, good film, important message, awesome battle scenes that will have you ducking if you have Dolby 5.1 sound - is that outdated by now?
Joanne, we should expect bias in all forms of media; we should take pains to figure out the meaning and subtexts of things, lest we be confused with tangential information that gets lost in the spin and tide of persuasion. Also, I want to finish the rest of that cheese platter. James Bond would approve.
You Are What You Wear
In a simultaneous Last to Blame-first of posting color photographs as well as a admission and expression of my geek love of video games, I would like to share with you my new purchase: a Parappa the Rapper t-shirt. If you've always doubted my coolness/ability to geek out, well here's proof - in full color!
This is the t-shirt as worn by its proud owner.
This is the inside lapel.
This is the back, near the neck. I have no idea who these faces are. They're happy and are ready to rap, fer shizzle.
This is a close up of the decal.
Not a big deal, admittedly - unless you're a big video game geek who wants to buy one of these cool bad boys. As reported on Kotaku, the Japanese chain "Uniqlo" is selling a line of t-shirts inspired by many video games, both classic and current. I bought this one here in Shanghai, and even though I've never been blessed with the experience of playing Parappa the Rapper (PS2's cultishly popular and trend-setting rhythm game about a rapping dog, yo) this was by far the coolest t-shirt there.
I don't want a Pac-Man maze on my chest. I believe in subtlety, wherein lies the oft-neglected trait of having taste and being fashionable (I live in Shanghai, if that wasn't already clear). Further rejected t-shirt include a Pac-Man polo-style shirt with the yellow block of cheese about to chomp on the power pellet that is your nipple; also, Bomberman and Dig Dug shirts done up very retro and 8-bit craft glory you've seen in retro video game stitchwork as featured on Etsy.com.
There was a Resident Evil 5 shirt that had a B.S.A.A. crest on it. On the back it had the acronym spelt out, but I didn't think it was stylish enough, though it was definitely nerdy enough. Not seen but I would have gotten: a bad-ass MegaMan shirt with the little blue guy posing with the MegaBuster poised at the ready, and a Street Fighter shirt with "HADOUKEN!" emblazoned across the front, proving your bad-assery to would-be challengers to your masculinity and pride. That's right: I would so fireball you if you messed with me or my girl.
This is the tag that came with the shirt. My camera has awesome clarity; the tag uses the video game graphics of the time so it looks crappy on purpose.
One of the reasons I started Last to Blame was an outlet for the many opinions I have about video games that I drive my girlfriend crazy talking about all the time. Another reason is a foray into the interest I have in getting into video game journalism. However, since I've started this blog I haven't gotten the proper respect other "journalists" have received - namely, swag. Free stuff. Gimmie gimmie.
So, attention all you people with things: send it here, to Last to Blame, and let me analyze it. Don't make me go spend another 99 yuan (around 15 USD) on another shirt.
In the meantime, here are some Parappa the Rapper lyrics to tide you over:
"In the rain or in the snow... got the got the funky flow (repeat)"
Also: "The skunk over here will bring you luck/The pump over here comes with a truck"
Wow. 1996 was so advanced. Those are some dope rhymes. And what are we doing now? Playing on plastic instruments, with plastic instrument superstars going on TV to play a game that is about faking musical performances? At least punk bands play music and sing songs; nowadays kids don't even play music, and songs don't even have any singing in them.
More shirts will be posted as I buy them.
This is the t-shirt as worn by its proud owner.
This is the inside lapel.
This is the back, near the neck. I have no idea who these faces are. They're happy and are ready to rap, fer shizzle.
This is a close up of the decal.
Not a big deal, admittedly - unless you're a big video game geek who wants to buy one of these cool bad boys. As reported on Kotaku, the Japanese chain "Uniqlo" is selling a line of t-shirts inspired by many video games, both classic and current. I bought this one here in Shanghai, and even though I've never been blessed with the experience of playing Parappa the Rapper (PS2's cultishly popular and trend-setting rhythm game about a rapping dog, yo) this was by far the coolest t-shirt there.
I don't want a Pac-Man maze on my chest. I believe in subtlety, wherein lies the oft-neglected trait of having taste and being fashionable (I live in Shanghai, if that wasn't already clear). Further rejected t-shirt include a Pac-Man polo-style shirt with the yellow block of cheese about to chomp on the power pellet that is your nipple; also, Bomberman and Dig Dug shirts done up very retro and 8-bit craft glory you've seen in retro video game stitchwork as featured on Etsy.com.
There was a Resident Evil 5 shirt that had a B.S.A.A. crest on it. On the back it had the acronym spelt out, but I didn't think it was stylish enough, though it was definitely nerdy enough. Not seen but I would have gotten: a bad-ass MegaMan shirt with the little blue guy posing with the MegaBuster poised at the ready, and a Street Fighter shirt with "HADOUKEN!" emblazoned across the front, proving your bad-assery to would-be challengers to your masculinity and pride. That's right: I would so fireball you if you messed with me or my girl.
This is the tag that came with the shirt. My camera has awesome clarity; the tag uses the video game graphics of the time so it looks crappy on purpose.
One of the reasons I started Last to Blame was an outlet for the many opinions I have about video games that I drive my girlfriend crazy talking about all the time. Another reason is a foray into the interest I have in getting into video game journalism. However, since I've started this blog I haven't gotten the proper respect other "journalists" have received - namely, swag. Free stuff. Gimmie gimmie.
So, attention all you people with things: send it here, to Last to Blame, and let me analyze it. Don't make me go spend another 99 yuan (around 15 USD) on another shirt.
In the meantime, here are some Parappa the Rapper lyrics to tide you over:
"In the rain or in the snow... got the got the funky flow (repeat)"
Also: "The skunk over here will bring you luck/The pump over here comes with a truck"
Wow. 1996 was so advanced. Those are some dope rhymes. And what are we doing now? Playing on plastic instruments, with plastic instrument superstars going on TV to play a game that is about faking musical performances? At least punk bands play music and sing songs; nowadays kids don't even play music, and songs don't even have any singing in them.
More shirts will be posted as I buy them.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Analysis: "The King of Kong" and the Self-Feeding Monster of Egotism
"The King of Kong" (2007) is a Seth Gordon documentary about the culture of competitive classic video games. The story revolves around two men, Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell, the rivalry between them and the struggle to be the world record holder of the highest achieved score on Nintendo's arcade video game "Donkey Kong" (1981).
This movie is not about video games. This is not a video game movie. A viewer can watch this movie and walk away never learning how to play Donkey Kong. There are no long, extended scenes of an entire level completed, nor any in-depth tutorials explaining how the controls work nor the proper path through the notorious elevator level.
It's a good thing that this movie is not about video games because then it wouldn't be interesting and as a result no one would watch it. Instead, this is a movie that uses video games as a backdrop to tell an engrossing story that appeals to everyone. "King of Kong" uses video games as a microcosm to relate to people on a deeper level to which everyone can connect. To call "King of Kong" a "video game movie" is like calling Ang Lee's "Brokeback Mountain" (2005) a "gay cowboy movie". Instead, "Brokeback Mountain" is a story of love and denial; it tells a story of never being able to achieve/obtain that one thing you always needed your entire life - homosexuality and sheep herding were just literal devices for the story to paint upon.
"King of Kong" is a movie that appeals to everyone. It tells an affecting story of two very different individuals that involve us and invokes large themes and issues; in fact, the best way to put it is that the story of "King of Kong" is more interesting than just about any video game; well, at least any of the video games seen or played in the movie.
I'll tell you what it's about, sure, but I won't deny it any longer that I loved this movie especially from my perspective as a hardcore gamer. I found it so funny and so emotionally affecting that I had to get up and walk around the room to shake off the egregious feeling that these people were portraying the story of my life. What made it really scary is how scary everybody appears in this movie. We see scene after scene appears of people emphatically explaining passionate philosophies and historically significant world events; we are then reminded that this zealous intensity concerns video games, and then wonder how a game can transcend its simple roots as a pastime for recreation and enjoyment to mean a clear case of life or death.
The audience listens to their obsession, and we note that some of these people don't blink when they talk. It scares me, so I listen harder. If nothing else, this movie has taught me to blink more and to take breaths inbetween sentences when I'm talking about video games; also, remind me if my mouth is open when I'm paying especially close attention to something/one.
"King of Kong" is a movie about how different people deal with obsession, and the role it plays in their lives. Competitive classic gaming is an illusion of importance, and in the case of Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell this illusion has separate significances to each individual. To us "laymen" of competitive classic gaming the movie offers us a glimpse to witness the cost of what it takes to be "great".
To Steve Wiebe, the film's underdog and hero, achieving the world record high score for Donkey Kong underscores the humility of this soft spoken family man. Portrayed as a wayward talent who possesses skill and ability but has never found a proper outlet in which to channel them, Wiebe is a likable guy and so we sympathize with him since all he wants from being a Donkey Kong champion is recognition as well as a confirmation of his rarely-recognized talents. However, the film shows us his obsession with Donkey Kong imparts a toll on his long-suffering family. Having both he and the Donkey Kong machine banished to the garage (his wife puts up with alot, I agree, but garages are where cars and teenage angst in the form of poor punk bands are parked), we see him neglect his duties as a dutiful father: in his first world record-setting videotape, we hear the anguished cries of his son calling for his dad who is too busy smashing barrels with a hammer with a joystick.
And while his son should learn how to wipe his own bottom, at which we laughed/cried, Wiebe's daughter Jillian has some of the best lines in the movie; when told having a high score in the Guiness World Record book was a big deal, she told her father, "Some people sort of ruin their lives to be in there." If that scathing indictment of her father wasn't enough, she earlier had stated pointedly from a quote on a Billy Mitchell hot sauce bottle: "Work is for people who don't know how to play video games."
It's difficult to watch a man have priorities over his family, but we do see a man dedicated to his dream who doen't do the irresponsible act of putting his dreams on his children's shoulders. Also, in this current social climate of mass mediocrity and focus on celebrity, it can be important for an everyman like Wiebe to be best in the world at one thing. A simple man, a simple plan.
Unfortunately, this plan is not of the hatching of Billy Mitchell, a competitive classic video gaming champion who was on top of the scene back when it wasn't "classic" gaming but state of the art and hip. A known celebrity even amongst competitive classic video gaming champions, Mitchell enjoys fame and has used it as a means to achieve his goals and as a end goal to be the well-known name he is. Holder of the Donkey Kong world record high score since the eighties (there's some other guy but he's not in the movies), Mitchell is shown to be a shadowy Machiavellian character who attempts to thwart the efforts of upstart Wiebe to break his record.
Mitchell is shown accomplishing his nefarious deeds by the power of his cult of personality; Mitchell is a charismatic and egotistical personality who draws others to him to support his own fame and narcissism. The obsession that has made him successful now drives him to scheme against Wiebe using all his influence.
The examples are many: Mitchell prompts Brian Kuh and Perry Rodgers to gain access to Wiebe's garage as "unwelcome guests" to dismantle his machine for photography of his circuit board; Mitchell, being on the board of evalutors, used his vote and influence to use these photographs to discredit Wiebe's home-taped million point score; receiving live updates via telephone during Wiebe's attempt at Funcom to break the record, Mitchell has his "disciple" (quoted from the movie) Brian Kuh attempt to distract and "psyche out" Wiebe, as Kuh is seen anxiously giving nervous interviews that would "jinx" Wiebe, as well as rounding up a crowd to witness the inevitable "kill screen"; scheming to steal Wiebe's thunder by submitting a taped game that reveals a million-plus score; prompting head judge Walter Day to input this score as the new official one, despite Mitchell's own claims that only "live scores matter"; and in the film's climax, Mitchell finally answers Wiebe's request for a head-to-head showdown for a Guiness World Record attempt after repeated snubbings, but arrived at the venue where the competition occured only to snub Wiebe again.
Some people have pointed out that I am long-winded in my writing; in this case, too many examples only justify that assertation. However, it has come to light that many facts are distorted to skew perspectives and give the story a definite bias. That said, the examples listed above appear to be true enough to prove Mitchell's plotting against Wiebe as well as to show the extent of the cult of his personality.
It also stands to note that the one detractor in the movie to Mitchell is the film's craziest - Roy Shildt, aka "Mr Awesome", depicted nude flexing his muscles with a similarily nude woman at his heels, as well as giving a pep talk on picking up woman with references to "gnarly poontang". Shildt is a man obviously jealous of Mitchell, having missed out on the fame Shildt believes he deserves, and is also a man depicted as being a dangerous, excessive personality. However, Shildt is able to surpass the first impression of him as an extremist and take the place as Wiebe's supporter properly since it clear that as Mitchell's "nemesis" (quote from the movie) he is outside his influence unlike every other competitive classic video gamer. While Shildt is armed with a spiteful grudge years in the making, Shildt is shown as a maniac with the deadliest weapon on his side - the truth.
Let's conclude: classic video gaming is very difficult and requires deft skills and steel nerves; all the people who compete in classic video gaming are obsessive personalities who are never seen to have any life outside of competitive gaming, like a family; Mitchell did not want his Donkey Kong score to be broken and schemed against Wiebe; and Mitchell enjoys fame and requires the submission of other personalities to bolster his own. The movie doesn't have to work hard to paint Mitchell in a negative light as he does it so well on his own, as most arrogent pricks like to do on their own accord.
While the movie ends with the claim that Wiebe would break Mitchell's million-plus score on a taped game (a score Mitchell would reclaim soon after) the real ending happens earlier with the acceptance of Wiebe by Walter Day and Twin Galaxies with an apology; this is due to the breaking of the cult of Mitchell's personality amongst the competitive gamer community. The one thing that Wiebe craved - acceptance - comes at the cost of the waning of Mitchell's influence. Day capitulated to logic and manners when accepting Wiebe into the community and acknowledged all the hardship - exacted by Mitchell - Wiebe had to endure to be recognized. Another telling conversation is when Steve Sanders warmly acknowledges Wiebe's skill and importance to classic gaming culture much to the visible displeasure and chagrin of Mitchell, sitting next to Sanders in the interview. This is coming from a man who Mitchell himself described as being "the person he is today because he came under the wrath of Billy Mitchell," meaning Sanders was once deeply ensconced in the Mitchell camp.
It goes on. In the credits, Robert Mruczek is shown to have quit Twin Galaxies as Head Referee after the controversy. Walter Day also seems to have turned over a new leaf and is releasing his first album and writing a new book. It's clear Wiebe's task wasn't just to break a world record for Donkey Kong; no, it had to be much more difficult than that because in order for Wiebe to do so, he had to break down Mitchell's cult of personality and not just change his life, but the lives of everybody involved.
That's why this became the "video game rivalry of the century": because Mitchell could not accept the damage to his established world, and not for any reason from Wiebe except to do the right thing. Instead of gracefully allowing some other guy to take the spotlight away from him, Mitchell is revealled as the insidious megalomaniac who hides behind his celebrity. In this conflict the highest score doesn't ultimately matter because it is Wiebe who wins for having the integrity to follow his dreams and stand up for himself. He isn't a hero for playing a video game well; he's a hero for being a good man in terrible circumstances - the backstabbing, unscrupulous world of competitive classic video gaming.
Quick analogy, as provided by my girlfriend: Wiebe is Mario/Jumpman. Mitchell is Kong. Mitchell's followers are the girder he stands on (which fall in the girder level). The barrels and fireballs are all the nefarious scheming Mitchell plots against Wiebe. The hammer is the truth that will set Wiebe free. And the damsel in distress that will never actually be rescued is the pointless competition of playing video games for a high score.
Dudes: playing video games doesn't win babes anymore. It's not the eighties, and people: chicks know that video games aren't that important. Cool, interesting maybe; but man, don't listen to that Mr. Awesome, whatever you do.
Rated: Three out of 3 stars. Highly recommended, but may influence a negative view of video games.
This movie is not about video games. This is not a video game movie. A viewer can watch this movie and walk away never learning how to play Donkey Kong. There are no long, extended scenes of an entire level completed, nor any in-depth tutorials explaining how the controls work nor the proper path through the notorious elevator level.
It's a good thing that this movie is not about video games because then it wouldn't be interesting and as a result no one would watch it. Instead, this is a movie that uses video games as a backdrop to tell an engrossing story that appeals to everyone. "King of Kong" uses video games as a microcosm to relate to people on a deeper level to which everyone can connect. To call "King of Kong" a "video game movie" is like calling Ang Lee's "Brokeback Mountain" (2005) a "gay cowboy movie". Instead, "Brokeback Mountain" is a story of love and denial; it tells a story of never being able to achieve/obtain that one thing you always needed your entire life - homosexuality and sheep herding were just literal devices for the story to paint upon.
"King of Kong" is a movie that appeals to everyone. It tells an affecting story of two very different individuals that involve us and invokes large themes and issues; in fact, the best way to put it is that the story of "King of Kong" is more interesting than just about any video game; well, at least any of the video games seen or played in the movie.
I'll tell you what it's about, sure, but I won't deny it any longer that I loved this movie especially from my perspective as a hardcore gamer. I found it so funny and so emotionally affecting that I had to get up and walk around the room to shake off the egregious feeling that these people were portraying the story of my life. What made it really scary is how scary everybody appears in this movie. We see scene after scene appears of people emphatically explaining passionate philosophies and historically significant world events; we are then reminded that this zealous intensity concerns video games, and then wonder how a game can transcend its simple roots as a pastime for recreation and enjoyment to mean a clear case of life or death.
The audience listens to their obsession, and we note that some of these people don't blink when they talk. It scares me, so I listen harder. If nothing else, this movie has taught me to blink more and to take breaths inbetween sentences when I'm talking about video games; also, remind me if my mouth is open when I'm paying especially close attention to something/one.
"King of Kong" is a movie about how different people deal with obsession, and the role it plays in their lives. Competitive classic gaming is an illusion of importance, and in the case of Steve Wiebe and Billy Mitchell this illusion has separate significances to each individual. To us "laymen" of competitive classic gaming the movie offers us a glimpse to witness the cost of what it takes to be "great".
To Steve Wiebe, the film's underdog and hero, achieving the world record high score for Donkey Kong underscores the humility of this soft spoken family man. Portrayed as a wayward talent who possesses skill and ability but has never found a proper outlet in which to channel them, Wiebe is a likable guy and so we sympathize with him since all he wants from being a Donkey Kong champion is recognition as well as a confirmation of his rarely-recognized talents. However, the film shows us his obsession with Donkey Kong imparts a toll on his long-suffering family. Having both he and the Donkey Kong machine banished to the garage (his wife puts up with alot, I agree, but garages are where cars and teenage angst in the form of poor punk bands are parked), we see him neglect his duties as a dutiful father: in his first world record-setting videotape, we hear the anguished cries of his son calling for his dad who is too busy smashing barrels with a hammer with a joystick.
And while his son should learn how to wipe his own bottom, at which we laughed/cried, Wiebe's daughter Jillian has some of the best lines in the movie; when told having a high score in the Guiness World Record book was a big deal, she told her father, "Some people sort of ruin their lives to be in there." If that scathing indictment of her father wasn't enough, she earlier had stated pointedly from a quote on a Billy Mitchell hot sauce bottle: "Work is for people who don't know how to play video games."
It's difficult to watch a man have priorities over his family, but we do see a man dedicated to his dream who doen't do the irresponsible act of putting his dreams on his children's shoulders. Also, in this current social climate of mass mediocrity and focus on celebrity, it can be important for an everyman like Wiebe to be best in the world at one thing. A simple man, a simple plan.
Unfortunately, this plan is not of the hatching of Billy Mitchell, a competitive classic video gaming champion who was on top of the scene back when it wasn't "classic" gaming but state of the art and hip. A known celebrity even amongst competitive classic video gaming champions, Mitchell enjoys fame and has used it as a means to achieve his goals and as a end goal to be the well-known name he is. Holder of the Donkey Kong world record high score since the eighties (there's some other guy but he's not in the movies), Mitchell is shown to be a shadowy Machiavellian character who attempts to thwart the efforts of upstart Wiebe to break his record.
Mitchell is shown accomplishing his nefarious deeds by the power of his cult of personality; Mitchell is a charismatic and egotistical personality who draws others to him to support his own fame and narcissism. The obsession that has made him successful now drives him to scheme against Wiebe using all his influence.
The examples are many: Mitchell prompts Brian Kuh and Perry Rodgers to gain access to Wiebe's garage as "unwelcome guests" to dismantle his machine for photography of his circuit board; Mitchell, being on the board of evalutors, used his vote and influence to use these photographs to discredit Wiebe's home-taped million point score; receiving live updates via telephone during Wiebe's attempt at Funcom to break the record, Mitchell has his "disciple" (quoted from the movie) Brian Kuh attempt to distract and "psyche out" Wiebe, as Kuh is seen anxiously giving nervous interviews that would "jinx" Wiebe, as well as rounding up a crowd to witness the inevitable "kill screen"; scheming to steal Wiebe's thunder by submitting a taped game that reveals a million-plus score; prompting head judge Walter Day to input this score as the new official one, despite Mitchell's own claims that only "live scores matter"; and in the film's climax, Mitchell finally answers Wiebe's request for a head-to-head showdown for a Guiness World Record attempt after repeated snubbings, but arrived at the venue where the competition occured only to snub Wiebe again.
Some people have pointed out that I am long-winded in my writing; in this case, too many examples only justify that assertation. However, it has come to light that many facts are distorted to skew perspectives and give the story a definite bias. That said, the examples listed above appear to be true enough to prove Mitchell's plotting against Wiebe as well as to show the extent of the cult of his personality.
It also stands to note that the one detractor in the movie to Mitchell is the film's craziest - Roy Shildt, aka "Mr Awesome", depicted nude flexing his muscles with a similarily nude woman at his heels, as well as giving a pep talk on picking up woman with references to "gnarly poontang". Shildt is a man obviously jealous of Mitchell, having missed out on the fame Shildt believes he deserves, and is also a man depicted as being a dangerous, excessive personality. However, Shildt is able to surpass the first impression of him as an extremist and take the place as Wiebe's supporter properly since it clear that as Mitchell's "nemesis" (quote from the movie) he is outside his influence unlike every other competitive classic video gamer. While Shildt is armed with a spiteful grudge years in the making, Shildt is shown as a maniac with the deadliest weapon on his side - the truth.
Let's conclude: classic video gaming is very difficult and requires deft skills and steel nerves; all the people who compete in classic video gaming are obsessive personalities who are never seen to have any life outside of competitive gaming, like a family; Mitchell did not want his Donkey Kong score to be broken and schemed against Wiebe; and Mitchell enjoys fame and requires the submission of other personalities to bolster his own. The movie doesn't have to work hard to paint Mitchell in a negative light as he does it so well on his own, as most arrogent pricks like to do on their own accord.
While the movie ends with the claim that Wiebe would break Mitchell's million-plus score on a taped game (a score Mitchell would reclaim soon after) the real ending happens earlier with the acceptance of Wiebe by Walter Day and Twin Galaxies with an apology; this is due to the breaking of the cult of Mitchell's personality amongst the competitive gamer community. The one thing that Wiebe craved - acceptance - comes at the cost of the waning of Mitchell's influence. Day capitulated to logic and manners when accepting Wiebe into the community and acknowledged all the hardship - exacted by Mitchell - Wiebe had to endure to be recognized. Another telling conversation is when Steve Sanders warmly acknowledges Wiebe's skill and importance to classic gaming culture much to the visible displeasure and chagrin of Mitchell, sitting next to Sanders in the interview. This is coming from a man who Mitchell himself described as being "the person he is today because he came under the wrath of Billy Mitchell," meaning Sanders was once deeply ensconced in the Mitchell camp.
It goes on. In the credits, Robert Mruczek is shown to have quit Twin Galaxies as Head Referee after the controversy. Walter Day also seems to have turned over a new leaf and is releasing his first album and writing a new book. It's clear Wiebe's task wasn't just to break a world record for Donkey Kong; no, it had to be much more difficult than that because in order for Wiebe to do so, he had to break down Mitchell's cult of personality and not just change his life, but the lives of everybody involved.
That's why this became the "video game rivalry of the century": because Mitchell could not accept the damage to his established world, and not for any reason from Wiebe except to do the right thing. Instead of gracefully allowing some other guy to take the spotlight away from him, Mitchell is revealled as the insidious megalomaniac who hides behind his celebrity. In this conflict the highest score doesn't ultimately matter because it is Wiebe who wins for having the integrity to follow his dreams and stand up for himself. He isn't a hero for playing a video game well; he's a hero for being a good man in terrible circumstances - the backstabbing, unscrupulous world of competitive classic video gaming.
Quick analogy, as provided by my girlfriend: Wiebe is Mario/Jumpman. Mitchell is Kong. Mitchell's followers are the girder he stands on (which fall in the girder level). The barrels and fireballs are all the nefarious scheming Mitchell plots against Wiebe. The hammer is the truth that will set Wiebe free. And the damsel in distress that will never actually be rescued is the pointless competition of playing video games for a high score.
Dudes: playing video games doesn't win babes anymore. It's not the eighties, and people: chicks know that video games aren't that important. Cool, interesting maybe; but man, don't listen to that Mr. Awesome, whatever you do.
Rated: Three out of 3 stars. Highly recommended, but may influence a negative view of video games.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Analysis: On Overlord and Enabling Bad Behavior
"It's just a game."
That has to be my single most hated line in video game discussion. It mutes further discussion, it invalidates video games as art and therefore capable and worthy of further discussion, it's a blanket statement that can be made independent of any thought that will turn the tide of most any argument.
Saying "it's just a game" is a cop-out. It means that you aren't thinking about the games you play. Video games aren't necessarily meant to be wide, thought-provoking seminal works of art you wittily try to bring up first at the country club or the next black-tie charity fund raiser; however, some games have you playing for 20, 30, 50, 100 or more hours - what is your brain doing all that time? Just reacting and enjoying the release of endorphins? The medium is the message, and so there's always content within this message.
Video games aren't "just a game" - let's agree, and at the same time let's never use that oft-mentioned phrase again. However, while they are more than a game, video games aren't often simply celebrated as the games they are - a device for entertainment purposes that allows us to experience different views and perspectives we may not normally get to experience. It seems video gamers often gaze far into the future to bring them the happiness and fulfilment the present does not offer them. High profile games like the Halo series and Super Smash Bros: Brawl are heralded by die-hard fans as a near religious transcendent experience. Video gamers commonly compare new played games to the best game experiences of their lives, pithily describing the new game as "good, but not as good as Ocarina of Time".
Here - and really, only here - does the phrase "it's just a game" suitably apply because all video games are games, and games are fun, so every video game has the ability to be fun. Let's celebrate video games for the fun they can be.
That said, some games' idea of fun don't necessarily comply to normal community standards. Grand Theft Auto's concept of missions are in fact the commission of crimes required to advance the story of a low level thug in his bid to take over the city/game and become a crime kingpin. Midnight Club and Midtown Madness both feature racing in populated cities with streets crowded with other automobiles and pedestrians. Conan puts you in the soft leather moccasins of a lusty barbarian as he pillages and razes villages and "liberates" awaiting maidens who have never ever heard of bras with underwire.
None of these games comply with community standards, but that's the point: to offer an experience that video gamers would not under normal, legal circumstances get to sample. Such a contrasting perspective into the underbelly of society only adds to the fun that video games offer.
And that's what "Overlord" (2007) offers - fun, but at the expense of crossing over community standards. Developed by Triumph Studios and published by Codemasters Software, Overlord is a game that allows you to be the quintessensial "bad guy" of video games. A basic way to describe this game is what would happen if Sauron from "Lord of the Rings" came back to life to regain his power and dominance.
And even though this game has "good" and "evil" branches that give you the choice to be a benevolent or malevolent overlord (eg. return the food to the starving villagers or not, decide the fate of the endangered elf species), Overlord is at heart a game that lets you be as bad as you want to be. This game is the evil enabler that you've been awaiting all your life; this is the game that kicks the mumbling little angel off your shoulder and allows you to wallow in your basest desires.
All of them: pillaging, razing, pilfering, looting, wanton destruction, murdering innocents, the destruction of you enemies. Even the capture of female "servants" to cart back to your evil lair and live in servitude is a very loose metaphor for rape. Yes, you can do just about everything bad in this game, and the most intoxicating aspect of this embracing of evil is the fact that all of this is accomplished through the dominance of your minions who carry out your every evil wish for you.
Think about that: your power over your minions acts as the construct that outlines their role as your enablers. These enablers perform your every wish and thus make any evil act so much more easier to commit. A wave of your hand is all that is required for a wave of destruction and death to be unleashed. The result is a game that massages your ego and pride to no end, and provides so much more "hero-worship" than "Fable" (2004) ever could. This game endorses the megalomaniac in every person to gratify the dark id suppressed within. It goes without saying that this game fun - forbidden, rapturous evil fun.
Games that enjoy such wickedness and vice usually have paper-thin devices to explain themselves. In "Manhunt" (2004) protagonist James Earl Cash had to murder people and contribute to director Starkweather's snuff film or be killed himself. "Grand Theft Auto III" (2001) was a story of revenge borne of betrayal, though the unnamed protagonist committed many crimes unrelated to his quest to right himself. Similarily, "God of War" (2005) featured a protagonist Kratos so driven to vengeance that he will harm innocents to get his way (eg. sacrificing the Centurion in the cage as a means to progress to the next area - a linear, vital component of the game, in fact).
However, Overlord is rather special this way, because it has a very subversive subtext: evil is necessary. The game postulates that evil is necessary because without evil there is no good.
Yow. Serial killers and child molesters define saints and heroes? My conscience spins in tandem with my stomach churning. Evil is necessary?
Overlord suggests this in a story that goes out of its way to provide a happy ending, should that be your prerogative. The premise of Overlord is that you, Mr. Evil Overlord, have been vanquished by heroes who had banded together for the common good to destroy you. However, in the absence of you, evil incarnate, each of these "good" heroes have lapsed in morality and have corrupted to be that which they once fought against.
The heroes fallen into immorality as as follows: Melvin Underbelly, the hobbit, was corrupted by gluttony and through the overconsumption of food has ballooned to monstrous size; Oberon, the elf, has lapsed into conplacency and has fallen into a deep sleep, nestled within a large tree whose giant, overgrown roots symbolize his lack of vigilance to upholding good and order. Sir William is the paladin who has been corrupted by his own pride and vanity and maintains an order of worshippers in his name. Jewel is the thief who becomes corrupted by the greed of valuable material object, same as Goldo, the dwarf. Kahn is the barbarian who is blinded by his lust for Jewel, who now goes about destroying Heaven's Peak without care or mercy.
The end boss of the game, the Wizard, reveals a plot of exchanged identities that is pretty much on par with most video game plot twists, only this one tries to give the aforementioned "happy ending". Nonetheless, the Wizard's plan to corrupt the heroes still point out the same thing: in the absence of the evil that they had vanquished, the heroes all became evil in its place. What this means is that the heroes needed the evil they were fighting against to define them as heroes. There is no good if there is no evil.
And so, this premise neatly explains that all the havoc and evil you wreak upon innocents is necessary. You, the Overlord, must commit evil and become stronger (read: more evil) to combat the evil that the "good" heroes have become. By being evil, you are doing a "good" deed and righting the inbalance of the world. In a word, insidious.
And in another word that describes this game, fun. Overlord is a sleeper hit of a video game that houses a surreptitious subtext that is as contoversial as any headshot or nipple. Overlord suggests we need evil as part of society lest we all become evil.
Review: Overlord
Pro's:
+ innovative premise: "Dungeon Keeper" gets out into a third-person adventure via "Pikmin"
+ black humor matches the black heart that beats within: the game doesn't take itself seriously and thus becomes lightheartedly enjoyable by all, meddling do-gooders included
+ story fits the game play well; one hand washes the other, and so that nagging conscience doesn't get in the way of fun
+ customizable to fit your evil personality; tower can be upgraded as per your preference for skulls or flames, as can your weapons and armor. The gladiator pit is a nice touch where you can battle vanquished enemies.
Con's:
- not very challenging game play; puzzles and challenges are usually solved by waving your hand, or not
- buggy and some poor design; being evil, it appears, is not as smooth as gangster movies would have you believe
Finished story and achieved something around 70% corruption on the Xbox 360.
Rated two out of 3 stars. Recommended, but evil behavior everywhere not condoned.
That has to be my single most hated line in video game discussion. It mutes further discussion, it invalidates video games as art and therefore capable and worthy of further discussion, it's a blanket statement that can be made independent of any thought that will turn the tide of most any argument.
Saying "it's just a game" is a cop-out. It means that you aren't thinking about the games you play. Video games aren't necessarily meant to be wide, thought-provoking seminal works of art you wittily try to bring up first at the country club or the next black-tie charity fund raiser; however, some games have you playing for 20, 30, 50, 100 or more hours - what is your brain doing all that time? Just reacting and enjoying the release of endorphins? The medium is the message, and so there's always content within this message.
Video games aren't "just a game" - let's agree, and at the same time let's never use that oft-mentioned phrase again. However, while they are more than a game, video games aren't often simply celebrated as the games they are - a device for entertainment purposes that allows us to experience different views and perspectives we may not normally get to experience. It seems video gamers often gaze far into the future to bring them the happiness and fulfilment the present does not offer them. High profile games like the Halo series and Super Smash Bros: Brawl are heralded by die-hard fans as a near religious transcendent experience. Video gamers commonly compare new played games to the best game experiences of their lives, pithily describing the new game as "good, but not as good as Ocarina of Time".
Here - and really, only here - does the phrase "it's just a game" suitably apply because all video games are games, and games are fun, so every video game has the ability to be fun. Let's celebrate video games for the fun they can be.
That said, some games' idea of fun don't necessarily comply to normal community standards. Grand Theft Auto's concept of missions are in fact the commission of crimes required to advance the story of a low level thug in his bid to take over the city/game and become a crime kingpin. Midnight Club and Midtown Madness both feature racing in populated cities with streets crowded with other automobiles and pedestrians. Conan puts you in the soft leather moccasins of a lusty barbarian as he pillages and razes villages and "liberates" awaiting maidens who have never ever heard of bras with underwire.
None of these games comply with community standards, but that's the point: to offer an experience that video gamers would not under normal, legal circumstances get to sample. Such a contrasting perspective into the underbelly of society only adds to the fun that video games offer.
And that's what "Overlord" (2007) offers - fun, but at the expense of crossing over community standards. Developed by Triumph Studios and published by Codemasters Software, Overlord is a game that allows you to be the quintessensial "bad guy" of video games. A basic way to describe this game is what would happen if Sauron from "Lord of the Rings" came back to life to regain his power and dominance.
And even though this game has "good" and "evil" branches that give you the choice to be a benevolent or malevolent overlord (eg. return the food to the starving villagers or not, decide the fate of the endangered elf species), Overlord is at heart a game that lets you be as bad as you want to be. This game is the evil enabler that you've been awaiting all your life; this is the game that kicks the mumbling little angel off your shoulder and allows you to wallow in your basest desires.
All of them: pillaging, razing, pilfering, looting, wanton destruction, murdering innocents, the destruction of you enemies. Even the capture of female "servants" to cart back to your evil lair and live in servitude is a very loose metaphor for rape. Yes, you can do just about everything bad in this game, and the most intoxicating aspect of this embracing of evil is the fact that all of this is accomplished through the dominance of your minions who carry out your every evil wish for you.
Think about that: your power over your minions acts as the construct that outlines their role as your enablers. These enablers perform your every wish and thus make any evil act so much more easier to commit. A wave of your hand is all that is required for a wave of destruction and death to be unleashed. The result is a game that massages your ego and pride to no end, and provides so much more "hero-worship" than "Fable" (2004) ever could. This game endorses the megalomaniac in every person to gratify the dark id suppressed within. It goes without saying that this game fun - forbidden, rapturous evil fun.
Games that enjoy such wickedness and vice usually have paper-thin devices to explain themselves. In "Manhunt" (2004) protagonist James Earl Cash had to murder people and contribute to director Starkweather's snuff film or be killed himself. "Grand Theft Auto III" (2001) was a story of revenge borne of betrayal, though the unnamed protagonist committed many crimes unrelated to his quest to right himself. Similarily, "God of War" (2005) featured a protagonist Kratos so driven to vengeance that he will harm innocents to get his way (eg. sacrificing the Centurion in the cage as a means to progress to the next area - a linear, vital component of the game, in fact).
However, Overlord is rather special this way, because it has a very subversive subtext: evil is necessary. The game postulates that evil is necessary because without evil there is no good.
Yow. Serial killers and child molesters define saints and heroes? My conscience spins in tandem with my stomach churning. Evil is necessary?
Overlord suggests this in a story that goes out of its way to provide a happy ending, should that be your prerogative. The premise of Overlord is that you, Mr. Evil Overlord, have been vanquished by heroes who had banded together for the common good to destroy you. However, in the absence of you, evil incarnate, each of these "good" heroes have lapsed in morality and have corrupted to be that which they once fought against.
The heroes fallen into immorality as as follows: Melvin Underbelly, the hobbit, was corrupted by gluttony and through the overconsumption of food has ballooned to monstrous size; Oberon, the elf, has lapsed into conplacency and has fallen into a deep sleep, nestled within a large tree whose giant, overgrown roots symbolize his lack of vigilance to upholding good and order. Sir William is the paladin who has been corrupted by his own pride and vanity and maintains an order of worshippers in his name. Jewel is the thief who becomes corrupted by the greed of valuable material object, same as Goldo, the dwarf. Kahn is the barbarian who is blinded by his lust for Jewel, who now goes about destroying Heaven's Peak without care or mercy.
The end boss of the game, the Wizard, reveals a plot of exchanged identities that is pretty much on par with most video game plot twists, only this one tries to give the aforementioned "happy ending". Nonetheless, the Wizard's plan to corrupt the heroes still point out the same thing: in the absence of the evil that they had vanquished, the heroes all became evil in its place. What this means is that the heroes needed the evil they were fighting against to define them as heroes. There is no good if there is no evil.
And so, this premise neatly explains that all the havoc and evil you wreak upon innocents is necessary. You, the Overlord, must commit evil and become stronger (read: more evil) to combat the evil that the "good" heroes have become. By being evil, you are doing a "good" deed and righting the inbalance of the world. In a word, insidious.
And in another word that describes this game, fun. Overlord is a sleeper hit of a video game that houses a surreptitious subtext that is as contoversial as any headshot or nipple. Overlord suggests we need evil as part of society lest we all become evil.
Review: Overlord
Pro's:
+ innovative premise: "Dungeon Keeper" gets out into a third-person adventure via "Pikmin"
+ black humor matches the black heart that beats within: the game doesn't take itself seriously and thus becomes lightheartedly enjoyable by all, meddling do-gooders included
+ story fits the game play well; one hand washes the other, and so that nagging conscience doesn't get in the way of fun
+ customizable to fit your evil personality; tower can be upgraded as per your preference for skulls or flames, as can your weapons and armor. The gladiator pit is a nice touch where you can battle vanquished enemies.
Con's:
- not very challenging game play; puzzles and challenges are usually solved by waving your hand, or not
- buggy and some poor design; being evil, it appears, is not as smooth as gangster movies would have you believe
Finished story and achieved something around 70% corruption on the Xbox 360.
Rated two out of 3 stars. Recommended, but evil behavior everywhere not condoned.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Analysis: Burnout Paradise and the Corruption of Youth and Man-Boys
If online play wasn't so much fun, it would suck.
While that seems to be a contradictory sentence, another way to say it is that the best thing about online play is the fun had while playing. Fun, as it is often pointed out, is the point of playing games.
But at what cost? Since online play features opponents that are exclusively human, other factors come up that dimminish the fun and provide an otherwise flaccid experience. Such factors include: griefing (ie. the active harassing and interference during online play), unbalanced matchmaking where the wide gap between players in game knowledge and skill cause uneven game play, overhearing via the headset information you don't need to hear and is not conducive to the game play (ie. overhearing arguments with someone else's mother, or listening to someone whine about how "this game sucks") as well as general douchebaggery in which normal people with normal lives suddenly turn into raging douchebags when they become armed with the anonymity of the internet and trash talk devolves into invectives hurled by trash.
However, let's forget that everybody on Xbox Live is a 12 year-old douchebag. (Really, let's forget). The real problem of online play is that the fun provided by online gaming allows game developers to make and release a game that comes up short in design; in the ensuing chaos on the internet, no one will notice these shortcomings.
And that's where we come to "Burnout: Paradise" (2009), the online racer made by Criterion and published by Electronic Arts. Burnout is a maniacal game of speed and reckless abandonment; it's the rush at deadly velocites and the subsequent spectacular crashes that happen when you go wrong. And you will crash. And it will be spectacular.
Burnout has had a long history as a franchise; I remember it back on the Xbox in its #2 offering, but it was "Burnout 3: Takedown" (2004) that made a jump in graphics technology, rendering crashes in spectacular fashion, as well as introducing takedowns, race combat where you can slam and shunt into other cars and clear the circuit of your competition. Burnout 3: Takedown revitalized the franchise and also still stands as the franchise's top entry, because this latest offering isn't it.
Let's recap: Burnout has been a fantastic single player game up to now. It has had to be; a key feature of the franchise is the "Aftertouch" option, whereupon crashing the game shifts gear from a breakneck pace to the etheral calm of slow motion, where the choral strains of sopranos accompany the sensational spectacle of a car crashing and disintegrating into the tiniest bits of car the current generation game platform can render. Aftertouch is important because it allowed the player to use his apparent mistake to his advantage by controlling the movement of the crashing car in slow-motion to strategically place it in the path of your opponents.
Aftertouch and the depiction of dramatic and impressive car crashes have long been staples in the Burnout series, but not here. Burnout: Paradise emphasizes online multi-player, not single player, and so can not implement the Aftertouch feature since time is a constant when you involve two or more people (Einstein may have something to say about that, though). Likewise, since competition takes place between people the interval between crashing and the resumption of racing is at a minimal; this means those lovely crashes that would go on for half a minute and feature barrel roll after barrel roll and flips and roof slides and nose grinds - it's all gone. Burnout: Paradise features car crashes that have all the excitement of crushing of piece of 8 1/2" by 11" paper. In slow motion.
Burnout: Paradise also does away with the criminally enjoyable "Crash Mode" to replace it with the limp and ineffectual "Showtime Mode". Crash Mode has never since been as fun as it was in "Burnout 2: Point of Impact" (2002) in which the player must rack up points by crashing their car into traffic and cause an ensuing pile-up that causes further additional collisions from other cars and trucks. It was basically a puzzle you had to figure out, and the points were in the form of money, money made in insurance claims. That's right: Crash Mode started out in the Burnout series as insurance fraud claims. It couldn't be more fun; Crash Mode awaits you in Heaven, along with your 40 virgins and an eternity's supply of smooth peanut butter and ramen noodles.
Like most other modes in the game, Showtime isn't really much fun, as does Stunt Run, which by the name alone suggests otherwise. Really, the only fun modes are "Road Rage" and "Marked Man" which feature car combat, the one fulfiling and fun thing to do with this game online. While not much can equal the satisfaction of shutting up someone by slamming them into an oncoming tractor trailer, the question is still there: at what cost does the fun come in the form of online play?
Paradise City, the city depicted as the place for all this gleeful car carnage and douchebag racist-racing trashtalk, is well designed as a place for this speed depravity. It has alleys, jumps, hills and valleys. Paradise City is a place that, once you get to know it well and all its shortcuts, is awaiting you to exploit it. However, as a place it's eeriely hollow and cold; for a city designed for racing it doesn't have any destinations really worth racing towards.
Perhaps it's because Paradise City is an artifice and not meant to be a real city. As such, you'll notice that there is no real heart of the city; this also comes to no surprise when it's mentioned that there are no people depicted in this city. None. Every car driving on the roads, racing or otherwise, is piloted without a driver as though it is KITT from "Knight Rider" or "Christine" by Steven King or "The Car" (1977). Gas stations have no attendants; sidewalks have no pedestrians; parks have no mimes trapped in invisible boxes.
This is likely a ploy by Criterion to make this "family friendly" and feature a game that has both racing and car wrecks but no violence by not showing any people to do violence towards. And, it worked: this game is rated "Everyone: 10 and Up". However, this admission to allow minors who can't drive a car legally but can play a game that simulates racing in a city is nothing short of insidious and contemptable. Criterion, you're teaching children how to drive before any licenced driving instructor will ever reach them - and Burnout rewards aggressive driving like driving on the wrong side of the road and near misses.
However, this isn't as irresponsible as the impact it will have on the single most dangerous demographic in driving and the one with the highest insurance rates - male drivers from 16 to 29. While these people are arguably responsible and mature adults who should be able to make well informed decisions, a game like Burnout: Paradise doesn't help things. The "non-violence" of this game also has another outcome: it suggests that there are no ramifications to reckless and dangerous driving. A car crashes in Burnout: Paradise, but it's okay because there are no people in the car, ror any people in the other car, nor any people on the sidewalk or any people in the entire area. As realistic as this game is in depicting cars and buildings, it doesn't realistically depict the outcome of one's actions when one is careless.
Flatout (2004) demonstated this to great comic relief by featuring a character model that was ejected out of the body of a car with the resultant humor gained from gimmicky rag doll physics; this was put to great practical use in the game's mini-games which required you to launch your driver out of the car to knock down a set of bowling pins, for example. This showed the outcome of a crash, but for comedy relief and not the grave realism WWII shooters would propagate upon catching sniper bullet to the head. All the same, a car racing game with crashing set in a city without people is like a knife-stabbing game without any blood. If you have such a stabby game but no blood, what's the point? Are you teaching children, if said game is allowed for children to play, that there are no ramifications to stabbing people? That people aren't full of blood?
This leads me to the conclusion that Burnout: Paradise is worse for children than pornography or Mortal Kombat. Sure, porno is bad and children should never see it (I think, however, the internet might have changed everything, so look out parents). In the case of Mortal Kombat, while it is a violent game that should be intended for adult use only (I think, however, that minors may have played this game in arcades) if the depiction of violence doesn't show the realistic end result of your actions it will influence one's perception of reality.
So, don't buy your children porno or Mortal Kombat, but especially don't buy them Burnout: Paradise. If they're going to learn anything from boobies or blood though, let them learn something useful and wise.
Review: Burnout: Paradise - The Ultimate Box
Pro's:
+ big expansive city; so, this is the place Guns N' Roses was singing about - the grass may be sweet, but where are the girls you're singing about, Axl?
+ the furious and the fast; Burnout is still sleek and sexy (in a Jessica Alba MILF sort of way)
+ Crash TV/Radio announcers suitably cheesy; taking the right page from Capcom, the sultry cougar announcer encourages you to race rather than fantasize how she looks like
+
Con's:
- several bad modes make this yet another bad Burnout game; Criterion, at this point please re-release Burnout 3 with better graphics
- arcade racer tradition replaced with an open city; I just wanna go fast. Why do I have to keep pausing the game to look at the map? Give me back my invisible walls marked by huge reality-defying arrows
- terrible music; does the fact that every racing game released has a terrible soundtrack mean that I have nothing to do with the demographic it was released for? C'mon - Depeche Mode's "Route 66"? Quiet Riot? Criterion, I never ever want to see what's burning up on you iPods.
- online play dependent; if you're not playing this online, you're not playing this right. This doesn't make up for the fact that enemy car AI sucks and there are hardly any traffic on the streets in this "living, breathing city".
- "Checking Traffic" still exists; you can plow into the back of same way traffic and not suffer any consequences. Just like real life.
- too easy on single player; everything since Burnout 3 has been casual gamer friendly, making for a poor game. Rival pop up from out of no where to await your takedown. Every race is winnable, even if you are in last place on the final leg of circuit.
- no people depicted means no consequences to actions; Burnout, stop corrupting our youth and immpressionable 20-something man-boys
Played to almost obtaining "A" licence on off-line single player on Xbox 360.
Rated: One out of 3 stars. Not as good as Burnout 3, Midnight Club or Need for Speed: Most Wanted. Also not as fun as racing for real on city streets, but that's illegal and not condoned by the author. Remember, always buckle up!
While that seems to be a contradictory sentence, another way to say it is that the best thing about online play is the fun had while playing. Fun, as it is often pointed out, is the point of playing games.
But at what cost? Since online play features opponents that are exclusively human, other factors come up that dimminish the fun and provide an otherwise flaccid experience. Such factors include: griefing (ie. the active harassing and interference during online play), unbalanced matchmaking where the wide gap between players in game knowledge and skill cause uneven game play, overhearing via the headset information you don't need to hear and is not conducive to the game play (ie. overhearing arguments with someone else's mother, or listening to someone whine about how "this game sucks") as well as general douchebaggery in which normal people with normal lives suddenly turn into raging douchebags when they become armed with the anonymity of the internet and trash talk devolves into invectives hurled by trash.
However, let's forget that everybody on Xbox Live is a 12 year-old douchebag. (Really, let's forget). The real problem of online play is that the fun provided by online gaming allows game developers to make and release a game that comes up short in design; in the ensuing chaos on the internet, no one will notice these shortcomings.
And that's where we come to "Burnout: Paradise" (2009), the online racer made by Criterion and published by Electronic Arts. Burnout is a maniacal game of speed and reckless abandonment; it's the rush at deadly velocites and the subsequent spectacular crashes that happen when you go wrong. And you will crash. And it will be spectacular.
Burnout has had a long history as a franchise; I remember it back on the Xbox in its #2 offering, but it was "Burnout 3: Takedown" (2004) that made a jump in graphics technology, rendering crashes in spectacular fashion, as well as introducing takedowns, race combat where you can slam and shunt into other cars and clear the circuit of your competition. Burnout 3: Takedown revitalized the franchise and also still stands as the franchise's top entry, because this latest offering isn't it.
Let's recap: Burnout has been a fantastic single player game up to now. It has had to be; a key feature of the franchise is the "Aftertouch" option, whereupon crashing the game shifts gear from a breakneck pace to the etheral calm of slow motion, where the choral strains of sopranos accompany the sensational spectacle of a car crashing and disintegrating into the tiniest bits of car the current generation game platform can render. Aftertouch is important because it allowed the player to use his apparent mistake to his advantage by controlling the movement of the crashing car in slow-motion to strategically place it in the path of your opponents.
Aftertouch and the depiction of dramatic and impressive car crashes have long been staples in the Burnout series, but not here. Burnout: Paradise emphasizes online multi-player, not single player, and so can not implement the Aftertouch feature since time is a constant when you involve two or more people (Einstein may have something to say about that, though). Likewise, since competition takes place between people the interval between crashing and the resumption of racing is at a minimal; this means those lovely crashes that would go on for half a minute and feature barrel roll after barrel roll and flips and roof slides and nose grinds - it's all gone. Burnout: Paradise features car crashes that have all the excitement of crushing of piece of 8 1/2" by 11" paper. In slow motion.
Burnout: Paradise also does away with the criminally enjoyable "Crash Mode" to replace it with the limp and ineffectual "Showtime Mode". Crash Mode has never since been as fun as it was in "Burnout 2: Point of Impact" (2002) in which the player must rack up points by crashing their car into traffic and cause an ensuing pile-up that causes further additional collisions from other cars and trucks. It was basically a puzzle you had to figure out, and the points were in the form of money, money made in insurance claims. That's right: Crash Mode started out in the Burnout series as insurance fraud claims. It couldn't be more fun; Crash Mode awaits you in Heaven, along with your 40 virgins and an eternity's supply of smooth peanut butter and ramen noodles.
Like most other modes in the game, Showtime isn't really much fun, as does Stunt Run, which by the name alone suggests otherwise. Really, the only fun modes are "Road Rage" and "Marked Man" which feature car combat, the one fulfiling and fun thing to do with this game online. While not much can equal the satisfaction of shutting up someone by slamming them into an oncoming tractor trailer, the question is still there: at what cost does the fun come in the form of online play?
Paradise City, the city depicted as the place for all this gleeful car carnage and douchebag racist-racing trashtalk, is well designed as a place for this speed depravity. It has alleys, jumps, hills and valleys. Paradise City is a place that, once you get to know it well and all its shortcuts, is awaiting you to exploit it. However, as a place it's eeriely hollow and cold; for a city designed for racing it doesn't have any destinations really worth racing towards.
Perhaps it's because Paradise City is an artifice and not meant to be a real city. As such, you'll notice that there is no real heart of the city; this also comes to no surprise when it's mentioned that there are no people depicted in this city. None. Every car driving on the roads, racing or otherwise, is piloted without a driver as though it is KITT from "Knight Rider" or "Christine" by Steven King or "The Car" (1977). Gas stations have no attendants; sidewalks have no pedestrians; parks have no mimes trapped in invisible boxes.
This is likely a ploy by Criterion to make this "family friendly" and feature a game that has both racing and car wrecks but no violence by not showing any people to do violence towards. And, it worked: this game is rated "Everyone: 10 and Up". However, this admission to allow minors who can't drive a car legally but can play a game that simulates racing in a city is nothing short of insidious and contemptable. Criterion, you're teaching children how to drive before any licenced driving instructor will ever reach them - and Burnout rewards aggressive driving like driving on the wrong side of the road and near misses.
However, this isn't as irresponsible as the impact it will have on the single most dangerous demographic in driving and the one with the highest insurance rates - male drivers from 16 to 29. While these people are arguably responsible and mature adults who should be able to make well informed decisions, a game like Burnout: Paradise doesn't help things. The "non-violence" of this game also has another outcome: it suggests that there are no ramifications to reckless and dangerous driving. A car crashes in Burnout: Paradise, but it's okay because there are no people in the car, ror any people in the other car, nor any people on the sidewalk or any people in the entire area. As realistic as this game is in depicting cars and buildings, it doesn't realistically depict the outcome of one's actions when one is careless.
Flatout (2004) demonstated this to great comic relief by featuring a character model that was ejected out of the body of a car with the resultant humor gained from gimmicky rag doll physics; this was put to great practical use in the game's mini-games which required you to launch your driver out of the car to knock down a set of bowling pins, for example. This showed the outcome of a crash, but for comedy relief and not the grave realism WWII shooters would propagate upon catching sniper bullet to the head. All the same, a car racing game with crashing set in a city without people is like a knife-stabbing game without any blood. If you have such a stabby game but no blood, what's the point? Are you teaching children, if said game is allowed for children to play, that there are no ramifications to stabbing people? That people aren't full of blood?
This leads me to the conclusion that Burnout: Paradise is worse for children than pornography or Mortal Kombat. Sure, porno is bad and children should never see it (I think, however, the internet might have changed everything, so look out parents). In the case of Mortal Kombat, while it is a violent game that should be intended for adult use only (I think, however, that minors may have played this game in arcades) if the depiction of violence doesn't show the realistic end result of your actions it will influence one's perception of reality.
So, don't buy your children porno or Mortal Kombat, but especially don't buy them Burnout: Paradise. If they're going to learn anything from boobies or blood though, let them learn something useful and wise.
Review: Burnout: Paradise - The Ultimate Box
Pro's:
+ big expansive city; so, this is the place Guns N' Roses was singing about - the grass may be sweet, but where are the girls you're singing about, Axl?
+ the furious and the fast; Burnout is still sleek and sexy (in a Jessica Alba MILF sort of way)
+ Crash TV/Radio announcers suitably cheesy; taking the right page from Capcom, the sultry cougar announcer encourages you to race rather than fantasize how she looks like
+
Con's:
- several bad modes make this yet another bad Burnout game; Criterion, at this point please re-release Burnout 3 with better graphics
- arcade racer tradition replaced with an open city; I just wanna go fast. Why do I have to keep pausing the game to look at the map? Give me back my invisible walls marked by huge reality-defying arrows
- terrible music; does the fact that every racing game released has a terrible soundtrack mean that I have nothing to do with the demographic it was released for? C'mon - Depeche Mode's "Route 66"? Quiet Riot? Criterion, I never ever want to see what's burning up on you iPods.
- online play dependent; if you're not playing this online, you're not playing this right. This doesn't make up for the fact that enemy car AI sucks and there are hardly any traffic on the streets in this "living, breathing city".
- "Checking Traffic" still exists; you can plow into the back of same way traffic and not suffer any consequences. Just like real life.
- too easy on single player; everything since Burnout 3 has been casual gamer friendly, making for a poor game. Rival pop up from out of no where to await your takedown. Every race is winnable, even if you are in last place on the final leg of circuit.
- no people depicted means no consequences to actions; Burnout, stop corrupting our youth and immpressionable 20-something man-boys
Played to almost obtaining "A" licence on off-line single player on Xbox 360.
Rated: One out of 3 stars. Not as good as Burnout 3, Midnight Club or Need for Speed: Most Wanted. Also not as fun as racing for real on city streets, but that's illegal and not condoned by the author. Remember, always buckle up!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Analysis: Conan, Jerks and You
Conan the barbarian is a jerk. A big jerk. And, he's perfect for video games. That means, of course, that jerks have a rightful and natural place in video games.
Previously, I had stated that Conan has a world view that would be consistent with that of Republican. This isn't to prove that all Republicans are jerks, as such a fact doesn't need proving since they prove it all by themselves - with pride, no less.
Instead, this is an analysis of "Conan" (2007), the video game as developed by Nihilistic Software and published by THQ, and the nature of barbarianism. Barbarians are a warrior culture who fear no fear as they face death on a daily basis; they are a culture that acknowledge strength and power over civility, rationality or the aestheticism of art. As life is cheap, so too is a barbarian's respect for other cultures, deeming civilized men as weak and two-faced. Barbarian culture is sexist and xenophobic; upon meeting you, Conan's first impressions are only whether he wanted to have sex with you or kill you.
Robert E. Howland's character is the anthesis of the modern day civilized man, a man constrained by the trappings of proper decorum and ettique who is bred to betray his natural primal sexual and violent urges. Conan is a man who is not afraid of death, and speaks his mind to expose the hypocracy of people who use language as a means of persuasion. However, Conan persuades people as well, but not through words but by savagery and brutality. Conan walks softly and carries a big, pointy stick.
The world the Conan lives in, Hyboria, is largely a lawless and intemperate land where the value of life and property is not respected. And while great cities and civilizations exist with their corresponding political and social systems, barbarians eschew this sophistication as shallow and unmeaningful as words and niceties have no place in a world you will be killed over your boots and armor.
In Hyboria, it makes sense to live and die by the sword as exerting power through force is the only way to exact any influence in this hard, unforgiving land. However, any commentary on the corruption and deceitfulness on civilization has to be taken cautiously from a barbarian who lives in a world where life is cheap and civilization isn't all that civilized.
Conan is a jerk, and it works for him because he lives in Hyboria. There, if you're not a jerk you're either exploited and dominated or dead. However, we don't live in Hyboria and in most places in the world life isn't cheap. The idea of relating to Conan from our perspective has to take in account his jerkness and the fact that someone like him does not fit into our modern civilized world.
Let's begin with that most barbaric of combat techniques, testicle kicking. Perhaps my vast video game wisdom is failing me, but I can't think of another ball kicking game at all. There probably has been, but it probably didn't follow-up on hitting the family jewels by splitting skulls in half. That Conan would use this as a regular move in his arsenal - called "Gemcutter" - just emphasizes his stature as a big jerk. Conan doesn't respect anyone, least of all his opponent. He'll kick you in the balls because it hurts, dammit.
That is being a jerk. Other video game protagonists when faced with even greater odds and even eviler evil have fought back proudly without any scrotum contact. Would Ryu Hayabusa kick you in the balls? Would Kratos kick you in the balls? Sure they wouldn't think twice about decaptitating the melon your hat sits on, but why would they need to kick you in the balls? Both of them are so bad-ass that they could tear you in half using their bare hands - literally (God of War) or zipline down active powerlines from tower to tower (Ninja Gaiden). They don't have to resort to that type of behavior.
People who do resort to that type of behavior here on planet Earth are practitioners of Krav Maga, an Israeli martial art used by their military. Less of a martial art than a survival skill, Krav Maga stresses neutralizer your opponent quickly by exploiting your enemy's weaknesses; this includes capping them in their genital stones. In fact, Krav Maga's status as a martial art comes into question when it is revealed there are no rules or regulations to this fighting style, nor is there a sport federation nor any official way to progress through training like the awarding of different colored belts.
It works. I tell you, kicking a guy in the balls will make him fall down. In fact, this is by far the most scientifically factual litmus test to see if someone is possessing of an x and y chromosone. But it begs the question, do you have to do it? Sure, if the circumstance is protecting yourself from Nazi youth as it was originally conceived as a defensive response, or if can repel an rapist as taught in self-defense courses. However, both these instances are a threat to life and is a survival skill and not an honorable method for similarly matched foes to test each other's skill. Is there a Krav Maga tournament where two opponents try to kick each other in the cojones? Would you ever see two ninjas put down their katanas to go on a sperm-sphere-busting red-letter-day blue-light-special hoe down?
Being evil is not the same as being a jerk. Being evil means you actively wish harm to others; being a jerk means you are selfish and just don't care. Several video games have allowed the player the option of trifling with good and bad decision-making; urban crime games have allowed players to play as a thug and perpetrate malfeasances upon innocent civilians. However, Conan goes that extra yard in "great moments in being a jerkwad" by giving a linear game about a disrespectful hero who has the option of dispatching foes with a boot to the gonads; in Conan, you can be a jerk while you are being a hero.
That's what bothers me most about this game - jerkness is celebrated. Jerkness has always been in videogames (eg. Jackass and Crusty Demons), but being a jerk has been equated with being a hero.
Conan is no hero; he's a selfish prick. He goes on a quest to vanquish the evil sorcerer Graven to re-claim his lost armor. Conan doesn't do this to aid A'Kanna, the pirate queen to seeks to aid her people who are suffering because of the Black Death (some kind of sickness denoted by black figures wearing a gimp suit); instead, he's just thinking of himself. It can't be more emphasized that the person who started all of this in the first place - the one who freed the trapped Graven and released the Black Death - is Conan himself; we see this in the very beginning of the game as a tutorial when he went looting tombs in search of treasure (By Crom!). Conan never shows any remorse at the suffering he has wrought upon Hyboria, and likewise never tries to redeem himself; that A'Kanna's need for vengeance against Graven and Conan's quest to reclaim his armor should dovetail is just a coincidence.
It goes on: Conan is a clumsy brute who brakes everything he touches. He smashes used wine jars instead of lightly putting them back down. Not content to loot treasure chests, Conan also has the indignity to burn down the huts of his opponents. You can tell Conan has passed through an area from all the dismembered limbs and blood carpetting the ground and well as entire villages razed to ashes. Freeing chained, nude women fit into Conan's world perfectly; having no ability or influence, women are just objects to rewards for those who can prove themselves "manly" enough.
That's the barbarians' code: to have no honor. Conan is a guy who will rape and pillage your village, and then blame you for having your village there in the first place. I mean, don't you know he's a barbarian? What's your problem?
This all likely goes without saying. I mean, a "barbarian" is an insult to call someone; Bone Crusher says the word as the demeaning slur it is by adding a few more consonents than what is written. However, "Conan" is also a fun, kick-ass game that fits into the genre just about perfectly. See, a barbarian is a character who does anything he wants and puts his survival above all else; that type of character is a boon to script writers of video games who have traditionally had to explain characters with motives. Well, not anymore. With Conan, you just have to provide a dangerous environment with similar lethal enemies and show some boobies from time to time. The common, insipid barbarian doesn't care, and neither does the common, lethargic video gamer. A perfect fit.
The question you, the video gamer, need to ask yourself is, "If Conan is a jerk, and jerks are perfect for video games, am I then a jerk?"
If you need further guidance, ask your local ninjitsu authority.
"Conan" Review
Pro's:
+ funday bloody funday; good thing they don't have many carpets in Hyboria because the cleaning bills would be astronomical
+ inventive moves; "there's a trick I've been learning to do with a knife"
+ jubblies galore; the game represents the barbarian would view perfectly by featuring the breasts of the same nakkid woman model over and over again
+ decent voiceacting; lines all delivered with aplomb, including the slave girl's "Take me and crush me with your love!" - though I did keep getting Conan confused with Hellboy talking to Selma Blair
Con's:
- Conan is a jerk; this game isn't a story in heroism as it is an exercise to allow assholes to expand to goat.se proportions
- cheap-ass boss battles; I didn't master all the moves of my sword-styles to finish the game as a platformer with an end boss whose so cheap he doesn't know what time it is at night because won't buy a watch to replace his sundial
- Let Crom judge the story! - the narrator of the story is one of the supporting characters, but not the main one? Why does she keep talking from his perspective and never from her own? Damn pirates..
- Die, you scurvy coders! - a buggy game is okay, but a buggy game that doesn't trip essential cutscenes during boss battle is inexcusable.
- essentially a poor God of War rip-off; everything from the camera to the combat to the platforming to the puzzling to the same lame-ass bad-assness is taken - poorly - from "Kratos' Family Trouble"; this game could have been "great" (*cough*) if it had copied from "God of Sulking" better
- decent music score kept fading in and out at strange times
- sometimes the next goal is not presented properly; this may be a sign of poor design, or of Conan's inability to follow proper decorum and manners
Played to completion on Hard mode on the Xbox 360.
Rated 2 out of three stars.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Top Ten Reasons Why "Top Ten" Video Games Lists Suck
You've all seen them; in the field of video game journalism lies the proliferation of "Top Ten" lists that list anything from "Top Ten Hottest Babes of Videogames" to "Top Ten Largest Breasts of Videogames" to "Top Ten Videogame Characters I Would Like to Have Dinner With Before Having Sex". Yes, we've all read them, and we all know they are terrible. The following is a compendium of the top ten reasons when they suck like a black hole in the "Lame-O" unverserse on an off day.
10. "Top 10" lists are an excuse for poor journalism.
A "Top 10" list is simply an arrangement of an itemized list of a personal opinion. There is no journalism done here, no investigation into a hidden truth or cover-up nor a spotlight onto shady facts that have not seen the light of day. A "Top 10" list can be drawn up on a cocktail napkin during the elevator loading screen of Mass Effect. It is lazy and shallow journalism that doesn't say anything new that hasn't already been said a number of times before.
9. "Top 10" lists are an exercise in poor English.
An essay, that type of writing you got graded on in school and did poorly, has a thesis. A thesis is an opinion you are trying to prove in an essay by using a number of arguments to prove your point. "Top 10" lists have no thesis, it's just a bundle of opinions. Even within such a "Top 10" lists you'll find tenuous arguments why something is what the author says it is.
8. "Top 10" lists provide fodder for continual meaningless arguments and fan-boy proliferation.
Video games love "Top 10" lists because it provides something to argue about. As the entire internet is a medium that allows netizens to voice their disagreement, "Top 10" lists provide a vehicle for gamers to instantly disagree with each other on subject matter, and if not that, the ranking of subject matter.
7. "Top 10" lists endorse the fallacy that everything is gradeable on a scale from one to ten.
As a tech-savvy person of the information age, we think we can control the humongous flow of information that passes by our doorstep every passing second. One way we think we can do this is by assign a digital value to this information; the fallacy of this is that criticism is not true criticism if you don't actually think and interpret this information before you judge it. What use is a "10" if you don't know what it means, or why it is a "10", or how it relates to other information and products?
6. "Top 10" lists are simply an affirmation of an experience.
So you've played a video game. Then, you finished it. Congratulations. Perhaps you had a great time while you played it; hats off, three cheers. However, the need to tell others of the excellent time had with the game doesn't really say very much, considering people around the world are having likewise similar excellent experiences. Compiling these experiences into a "Top 10" list is as meaningless as affirmations of enjoying fresh air, tasty food, good weather and hot sex. A "Top 10" list usually is rendered redundant by adding "So?" or "And?" at the end of it.
5. "Top 10" lists are testimony to the maintainance of the status quo in video games.
Gamers are always looking towards the next big video game release because we are always excited about the perceived advancement in video game and how future games will look. Video games have changed alot over its short history, but then again video games are still conceptually and fundamentally the same. Players control the idealized figure of a bad ass figure who runs around breaking crates and defeating the same two or three enemy figures who drop red orbs for experience and green orbs for health (blue for mana) until collect all the keys to progress to the next level, not before fighting a boss character that kills your protagonist a few times until you learn the predictable sequence of the boss that you can then use to your advantage. This status quo also includes the "boy's club" mentality that endorses violence and sexism. "Top 10" lists are important because they say everything without saying anything, and so nothing ever changes.
4. "Top 10" lists only detail the perspective and experience of the list's author, and so have no relevance except to people of the same perspective and experience.
There are a whole lot of video games; lots of good stuff, even more bad stuff. So when you write a "Top 10 Best" list you are constrained to all that you ever experienced and not anything more. Besides only just being an affirmation of your experience, it also just shows how little you know. If you've only ever just played Nintendo games, it would make perfect sense that you would consider the best game of all time, let alone the ten best games of all time, to be a Nintendo game. Such a list is only important to the person making it and people of similar experience.
3. "Top 10" lists by nature are itemized sets of ten, but are usually written with less than ten points in mind.
Video gamers hate filler; we all hated Halo for basically being a game that had a story that progressed into the middle and then rewound the story until the end; it was the video game equivalent of a palidrome. However, gamers tend to pad out their "Top 10" lists by putting in filler in-between points until they eventually reach number one. You don't need ten reasons or points to write about when you only have six or seven, and so a "Top 10" list is thereby rendered irrelevant.
2. "Top 10" lists have become an end to itself, and so have evolved to become too varied for any real significance.
Gamers love "Top 10" lists, but many "Top 10" lists have already been written to the point of becoming immaterial. "Top 10" authors know this, and so write "Top 10" lists that have nothing to do with anything important. A couple of examples that will eventually be written once the "Top 10" list genre become oversaturated (if it hasn't already): "Top 10 Weapons in Video Games that Based on Tropical Citrus Fruit That Have Become Extinct Through Globalization", "Top 10 Videogames that Rhyme with 'Obama-rama-ding-dong'", and "Top 10 Why Aliens From Alpha Centari Will Not Buy An PS3".
2a. "Top 10" lists don't encourage independent thought.
If you have ideas and thoughts but they don't fit the mold of a "Top 10" list, what is one supposed to do? Start a rogue video game blog so far off the beaten path that no one reads it? I don't know why anyone would do such a thing.
2b. "Top 10" lists glorify the number ten.
Back before the ratings war and before he became a big jerk to guest (and subsequently reformed), David Letterman came up with the Top 10 list to pad out the show's length. Since then it has become a staple in pop culture. But why ten? Sure, our numberic system is based on a base ten format whereupon at increments of ten the cycle resets to start again - but there are other great numbers. Eleven (Spinal Tap), forty-two (Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and that British band Level 42), seven (that movie that made everyone think Brad Pitt and Gwenyth Paltrow are a perfect couple and also that "UP" soda), eight ("is Enough") and seventeen (magazine) are all great numbers. It seems after Bo Derek we've only become judges out of ten.
and...
1. People only care about #1 on a "Top 10" list.
Even if you are a fair and balanced author who has scientifically judged your subject matter and weighed them with the impartiality of King Solomon (that guy who wanted to cut a baby in half - you know, that nice man), readers will only care and remember what you put at number one. That pretty much makes the other nine redundant and unimportant, and not what a list of ten would serve in the first place.
Everybody: stop making "Top 10" lists; stop reading "Top 10" lists. I realize I just added to the problem by writing this - it's like putting up flyers to urge people not to put up flyers - but how else do I get people to read this?
10. "Top 10" lists are an excuse for poor journalism.
A "Top 10" list is simply an arrangement of an itemized list of a personal opinion. There is no journalism done here, no investigation into a hidden truth or cover-up nor a spotlight onto shady facts that have not seen the light of day. A "Top 10" list can be drawn up on a cocktail napkin during the elevator loading screen of Mass Effect. It is lazy and shallow journalism that doesn't say anything new that hasn't already been said a number of times before.
9. "Top 10" lists are an exercise in poor English.
An essay, that type of writing you got graded on in school and did poorly, has a thesis. A thesis is an opinion you are trying to prove in an essay by using a number of arguments to prove your point. "Top 10" lists have no thesis, it's just a bundle of opinions. Even within such a "Top 10" lists you'll find tenuous arguments why something is what the author says it is.
8. "Top 10" lists provide fodder for continual meaningless arguments and fan-boy proliferation.
Video games love "Top 10" lists because it provides something to argue about. As the entire internet is a medium that allows netizens to voice their disagreement, "Top 10" lists provide a vehicle for gamers to instantly disagree with each other on subject matter, and if not that, the ranking of subject matter.
7. "Top 10" lists endorse the fallacy that everything is gradeable on a scale from one to ten.
As a tech-savvy person of the information age, we think we can control the humongous flow of information that passes by our doorstep every passing second. One way we think we can do this is by assign a digital value to this information; the fallacy of this is that criticism is not true criticism if you don't actually think and interpret this information before you judge it. What use is a "10" if you don't know what it means, or why it is a "10", or how it relates to other information and products?
6. "Top 10" lists are simply an affirmation of an experience.
So you've played a video game. Then, you finished it. Congratulations. Perhaps you had a great time while you played it; hats off, three cheers. However, the need to tell others of the excellent time had with the game doesn't really say very much, considering people around the world are having likewise similar excellent experiences. Compiling these experiences into a "Top 10" list is as meaningless as affirmations of enjoying fresh air, tasty food, good weather and hot sex. A "Top 10" list usually is rendered redundant by adding "So?" or "And?" at the end of it.
5. "Top 10" lists are testimony to the maintainance of the status quo in video games.
Gamers are always looking towards the next big video game release because we are always excited about the perceived advancement in video game and how future games will look. Video games have changed alot over its short history, but then again video games are still conceptually and fundamentally the same. Players control the idealized figure of a bad ass figure who runs around breaking crates and defeating the same two or three enemy figures who drop red orbs for experience and green orbs for health (blue for mana) until collect all the keys to progress to the next level, not before fighting a boss character that kills your protagonist a few times until you learn the predictable sequence of the boss that you can then use to your advantage. This status quo also includes the "boy's club" mentality that endorses violence and sexism. "Top 10" lists are important because they say everything without saying anything, and so nothing ever changes.
4. "Top 10" lists only detail the perspective and experience of the list's author, and so have no relevance except to people of the same perspective and experience.
There are a whole lot of video games; lots of good stuff, even more bad stuff. So when you write a "Top 10 Best" list you are constrained to all that you ever experienced and not anything more. Besides only just being an affirmation of your experience, it also just shows how little you know. If you've only ever just played Nintendo games, it would make perfect sense that you would consider the best game of all time, let alone the ten best games of all time, to be a Nintendo game. Such a list is only important to the person making it and people of similar experience.
3. "Top 10" lists by nature are itemized sets of ten, but are usually written with less than ten points in mind.
Video gamers hate filler; we all hated Halo for basically being a game that had a story that progressed into the middle and then rewound the story until the end; it was the video game equivalent of a palidrome. However, gamers tend to pad out their "Top 10" lists by putting in filler in-between points until they eventually reach number one. You don't need ten reasons or points to write about when you only have six or seven, and so a "Top 10" list is thereby rendered irrelevant.
2. "Top 10" lists have become an end to itself, and so have evolved to become too varied for any real significance.
Gamers love "Top 10" lists, but many "Top 10" lists have already been written to the point of becoming immaterial. "Top 10" authors know this, and so write "Top 10" lists that have nothing to do with anything important. A couple of examples that will eventually be written once the "Top 10" list genre become oversaturated (if it hasn't already): "Top 10 Weapons in Video Games that Based on Tropical Citrus Fruit That Have Become Extinct Through Globalization", "Top 10 Videogames that Rhyme with 'Obama-rama-ding-dong'", and "Top 10 Why Aliens From Alpha Centari Will Not Buy An PS3".
2a. "Top 10" lists don't encourage independent thought.
If you have ideas and thoughts but they don't fit the mold of a "Top 10" list, what is one supposed to do? Start a rogue video game blog so far off the beaten path that no one reads it? I don't know why anyone would do such a thing.
2b. "Top 10" lists glorify the number ten.
Back before the ratings war and before he became a big jerk to guest (and subsequently reformed), David Letterman came up with the Top 10 list to pad out the show's length. Since then it has become a staple in pop culture. But why ten? Sure, our numberic system is based on a base ten format whereupon at increments of ten the cycle resets to start again - but there are other great numbers. Eleven (Spinal Tap), forty-two (Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and that British band Level 42), seven (that movie that made everyone think Brad Pitt and Gwenyth Paltrow are a perfect couple and also that "UP" soda), eight ("is Enough") and seventeen (magazine) are all great numbers. It seems after Bo Derek we've only become judges out of ten.
and...
1. People only care about #1 on a "Top 10" list.
Even if you are a fair and balanced author who has scientifically judged your subject matter and weighed them with the impartiality of King Solomon (that guy who wanted to cut a baby in half - you know, that nice man), readers will only care and remember what you put at number one. That pretty much makes the other nine redundant and unimportant, and not what a list of ten would serve in the first place.
Everybody: stop making "Top 10" lists; stop reading "Top 10" lists. I realize I just added to the problem by writing this - it's like putting up flyers to urge people not to put up flyers - but how else do I get people to read this?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
On Post-Modernism, the Intrinsic Meaning of Video Games and Snoopy
Snoopy is cool. That suave beagle from Charles Schultz's "Peanuts" is the hippest character in the comic strip, out-styling a crabby megalomanic, a philosopher with a security blanket, two androgynous girls and the most depressed and cynical bald six year old boy you will ever meet. Snoopy is a dashing extrovert who fights WWI flying ace the Red Baron in his Sopwith Camel and works on his manuscript "It was a dark and stormy night..." on his free time; no little feats for a dog who can't talk.
Yes, Snoopy is cool, so cool that he sleeps on top of his dog house rather than most of his contemporaies. And while he has been the outgoing and gregarious mascot of "Peanuts" and has adorned lunch boxes world wide and been featured as a balloon several times in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, he's outdated. He's almost sixty years old.
Coolness is always changing from generation to generation, and Snoopy is an obsolete model of hipness. That was the 50's; today's generation lives in a post-modern cynical world where kids are too smart for their own good to correspond with their opinion that nothing matters anymore.
It's hip not to believe anything anymore.
Lack of faith is something Buddha, Jesus, Ganesh and the prophet Muhammad can probably all get along and agree is not generally a good thing. However, the cool factor doesn't seem to be in atheism, the belief there is no god or higher power, but in agnosticism, the belief that it's impossible to determine whether there is a god or not; since there's no way for mortals to say definitely there is a god (since that's where faith comes in), some folks would just easily throw up their hands and say, "What's the use? Nothing matters anymore, because nothing means anything."
I am not a pastor, priest, rabbi, monk or clergyman; I'm sure you have your own religious beliefs, whatever they are, and even are confident enough to espouse your faith on a T-shirt. Awesome. Just keep doing what you're doing.
What this piece of writing is addressing is the world view that nothing means anything in the world. A dog, Snoopy or not, is a dog. A tear is a tear; it doesn't symbolize anthing because it doesn't have to - a tear comes out of your tear ducts when you cry, and people cry when they are sad. It all makes literal sense.
As the technology that powers the graphics of video games becomes more and more powerful, so too will they become more literal; never again will a soldier rush in from offstage to relate an account of a battle as happens in any Shakespearean play - in a video game, a cutscene with thousands and thousands of meticulously rendered soldiers will literally depict the entire battle for you. Why does anyone have to believe anything anymore unless you can see it for yourself?
You do have to feel some sympathy for these spoon-fed children of baby boomers who have been born into priviledge without having to endure hardship and challenge because it means said priviledge, having been awarded freely, comes free of meaning and significance. After all, they'll have to find their way somehow. Still, kids everywhere know and appreciate the sacrifice the "greatest generation" paid for the conflict of WWII, but that won't stop them from enjoying yet another WWII shooter that lets them enjoy war as a game.
Maybe you don't believe in anything anymore; maybe you don't think anything means anything anymore. You can believe whatever you'd like, but I'm telling you: the world is full of meaning; whether or not it's actually "meaningful" is up to you, but it's still full of meaning nonetheless.
If you need spiritual guidance, seek out your local guru or missionary. If you're lost, consult a map. Right now, I'm going to tell you what this video game blog has been doing and will keep doing: this blog will interpret and tell you about the meaning of video games.
I won't get into examples, since this blog is rife with them. But let's this be agreed upon: art can be defined as something that is made, intentionally or not, with inherent meaning and subtext. Since video games are art and qualify for this definition, we can then also agree that video games have meaning and subtext to them that may or may not be associated with the creator's wishes. This has all to do with that most powerful of literary devices: the metaphor; however, as noted, the metaphor has been enduring a losing battle as a viable construct in today's cynical and literal world view.
It begs to be asked: why do things have to have a meaning? Why can't things have no meaning? For example, abstract expressionist painters like Barnett Newman, Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock made subjectless art that avoided all narrative and story. Classical composers like Johann Sebastian Bach made "pure" music that had such abstract titles as "Air in G" that served only differentiate works from each other and not as a title to suggest or describe themes, subjects or emotions.
However, all art has one thing in common: art is made by artists. As it also is begged to be said, artists are all human and so are people with unique experiences and perspectives. That said, even though a Pollock painting looks to a layman like the end result of a spastic 6 year-old during fingerpainting, upon closer inspection we can delve into the experience and perspective of the artist himself. Indeed, the thrown paint or messy smudges of a master painter can tell you as much about himself as it can the nature of the universe.
Video games are a product of definite planning and preconceived thought; and while that planning more often than not is used to make the spatter of blood more realistic (read: enjoyable) as does the movement of breasts more realistic (read: hyper-realistic), there is still a meaning there to be found, intentional or not. That's because video games aren't just art, but a culture, a amalgamation of thoughts and feelings. It's there.
Perhaps you don't see that Resident Evil 5 is racist; perhaps you don't see that the "viral zombie outbreak" is a close metaphor for the real-life viral problems Africa is dealing with (ie. AIDS, Ebola etc). Or, perhaps you see but don't accept it; fan boys all have eyeballs that see selective truths, after all.
Allow me to tell you of this first occasion I started thinking about subtext, hard. It was the playoffs, and a bunch of us had gathered to watch the hometown heroes lose, again. Anyways, right during intermission (the hockey game went into overtime) there was a commercial on that we all watched for BMW. It was very amusing: in it, a boy is riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. The camera is travelling with him to track his every move; while he is very unsteady and obviously new to riding a bicycle, he is enjoying it very much. Soon after appearing, our concern for the novice bicyclist is taken care of by a man who appears travelling alongside the boy, driving a BMW. He looks to be the father as he appears very concerned for the boys safety, whose anxious consternation contrasts the blissful joy of the boy.
We all watched the commercial in silence, and then when it was done I said suddenly, "You know what this commercial means? This man loves his boy as much as he loves his car." I think I shocked everyone with that, but no one was more shocked than me.
Post-modern or otherwise, art in this world hasn't stopped having meaning; instead, the cynic in us has stopped looking for meaning, especially provided that much modern art has adapted to the times by becoming very literal in depiction.
Hasn't anyone else wondered why the proliferation of super hero movies has taken over Hollywood? Marvel and DC have tripped over themselves seven times to Sunday as though they walked around with six legs in order to ship out yet another super hero movie. While some would say the advancement of computer graphics has allowed filmmakers to finally and faithfully be able to produce images that years ago would be cost-prohibitive and difficult to produce, I would say that the fantasy of absolute good fighting against absolute evil is very suitable for a target audience who is only interested in literal and absolute values and imagery.
Writers like Neil Gaiman have all but destroyed the traditional super-hero mythos in books like "Black Orchid" where the villian, being post-modern and aware of the literary foibles of villians, shoots the hero in the head and kills her - at the very beginning of the book. However, the post-modern audience is such that they are so savvy to the illusion of "good vs. evil" that they will sit through an entire movie knowing full well what it is without having to suspend their disbelief. Unlike a generation ago, people like super-heroes not because they represent other themes or ideas, but because this abstraction of "good vs. evil" is just enough of a literary construct to allow the audience to enjoy said spectafular CGI effects. This type of renting-out-of-awareness is similar to the phenomenon of celebrities who become famous only because they look attractive, like FHM models or women photographed getting out of cars who don't wear underwear.
Hey, savvy know-it-all kids: don't believe meaning. Find it, and then do what you will with it. For video games, it starts with accepting that something else is going on inspite/despite the story that has to do with technology gone amok/saving the world against evil/becoming a crime overlord/something or another that has to do with space marines, ninjas and large breasts.
Video game culture is defined by video gamers, not video games. So let's find it.
Yes, Snoopy is cool, so cool that he sleeps on top of his dog house rather than most of his contemporaies. And while he has been the outgoing and gregarious mascot of "Peanuts" and has adorned lunch boxes world wide and been featured as a balloon several times in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, he's outdated. He's almost sixty years old.
Coolness is always changing from generation to generation, and Snoopy is an obsolete model of hipness. That was the 50's; today's generation lives in a post-modern cynical world where kids are too smart for their own good to correspond with their opinion that nothing matters anymore.
It's hip not to believe anything anymore.
Lack of faith is something Buddha, Jesus, Ganesh and the prophet Muhammad can probably all get along and agree is not generally a good thing. However, the cool factor doesn't seem to be in atheism, the belief there is no god or higher power, but in agnosticism, the belief that it's impossible to determine whether there is a god or not; since there's no way for mortals to say definitely there is a god (since that's where faith comes in), some folks would just easily throw up their hands and say, "What's the use? Nothing matters anymore, because nothing means anything."
I am not a pastor, priest, rabbi, monk or clergyman; I'm sure you have your own religious beliefs, whatever they are, and even are confident enough to espouse your faith on a T-shirt. Awesome. Just keep doing what you're doing.
What this piece of writing is addressing is the world view that nothing means anything in the world. A dog, Snoopy or not, is a dog. A tear is a tear; it doesn't symbolize anthing because it doesn't have to - a tear comes out of your tear ducts when you cry, and people cry when they are sad. It all makes literal sense.
As the technology that powers the graphics of video games becomes more and more powerful, so too will they become more literal; never again will a soldier rush in from offstage to relate an account of a battle as happens in any Shakespearean play - in a video game, a cutscene with thousands and thousands of meticulously rendered soldiers will literally depict the entire battle for you. Why does anyone have to believe anything anymore unless you can see it for yourself?
You do have to feel some sympathy for these spoon-fed children of baby boomers who have been born into priviledge without having to endure hardship and challenge because it means said priviledge, having been awarded freely, comes free of meaning and significance. After all, they'll have to find their way somehow. Still, kids everywhere know and appreciate the sacrifice the "greatest generation" paid for the conflict of WWII, but that won't stop them from enjoying yet another WWII shooter that lets them enjoy war as a game.
Maybe you don't believe in anything anymore; maybe you don't think anything means anything anymore. You can believe whatever you'd like, but I'm telling you: the world is full of meaning; whether or not it's actually "meaningful" is up to you, but it's still full of meaning nonetheless.
If you need spiritual guidance, seek out your local guru or missionary. If you're lost, consult a map. Right now, I'm going to tell you what this video game blog has been doing and will keep doing: this blog will interpret and tell you about the meaning of video games.
I won't get into examples, since this blog is rife with them. But let's this be agreed upon: art can be defined as something that is made, intentionally or not, with inherent meaning and subtext. Since video games are art and qualify for this definition, we can then also agree that video games have meaning and subtext to them that may or may not be associated with the creator's wishes. This has all to do with that most powerful of literary devices: the metaphor; however, as noted, the metaphor has been enduring a losing battle as a viable construct in today's cynical and literal world view.
It begs to be asked: why do things have to have a meaning? Why can't things have no meaning? For example, abstract expressionist painters like Barnett Newman, Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock made subjectless art that avoided all narrative and story. Classical composers like Johann Sebastian Bach made "pure" music that had such abstract titles as "Air in G" that served only differentiate works from each other and not as a title to suggest or describe themes, subjects or emotions.
However, all art has one thing in common: art is made by artists. As it also is begged to be said, artists are all human and so are people with unique experiences and perspectives. That said, even though a Pollock painting looks to a layman like the end result of a spastic 6 year-old during fingerpainting, upon closer inspection we can delve into the experience and perspective of the artist himself. Indeed, the thrown paint or messy smudges of a master painter can tell you as much about himself as it can the nature of the universe.
Video games are a product of definite planning and preconceived thought; and while that planning more often than not is used to make the spatter of blood more realistic (read: enjoyable) as does the movement of breasts more realistic (read: hyper-realistic), there is still a meaning there to be found, intentional or not. That's because video games aren't just art, but a culture, a amalgamation of thoughts and feelings. It's there.
Perhaps you don't see that Resident Evil 5 is racist; perhaps you don't see that the "viral zombie outbreak" is a close metaphor for the real-life viral problems Africa is dealing with (ie. AIDS, Ebola etc). Or, perhaps you see but don't accept it; fan boys all have eyeballs that see selective truths, after all.
Allow me to tell you of this first occasion I started thinking about subtext, hard. It was the playoffs, and a bunch of us had gathered to watch the hometown heroes lose, again. Anyways, right during intermission (the hockey game went into overtime) there was a commercial on that we all watched for BMW. It was very amusing: in it, a boy is riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. The camera is travelling with him to track his every move; while he is very unsteady and obviously new to riding a bicycle, he is enjoying it very much. Soon after appearing, our concern for the novice bicyclist is taken care of by a man who appears travelling alongside the boy, driving a BMW. He looks to be the father as he appears very concerned for the boys safety, whose anxious consternation contrasts the blissful joy of the boy.
We all watched the commercial in silence, and then when it was done I said suddenly, "You know what this commercial means? This man loves his boy as much as he loves his car." I think I shocked everyone with that, but no one was more shocked than me.
Post-modern or otherwise, art in this world hasn't stopped having meaning; instead, the cynic in us has stopped looking for meaning, especially provided that much modern art has adapted to the times by becoming very literal in depiction.
Hasn't anyone else wondered why the proliferation of super hero movies has taken over Hollywood? Marvel and DC have tripped over themselves seven times to Sunday as though they walked around with six legs in order to ship out yet another super hero movie. While some would say the advancement of computer graphics has allowed filmmakers to finally and faithfully be able to produce images that years ago would be cost-prohibitive and difficult to produce, I would say that the fantasy of absolute good fighting against absolute evil is very suitable for a target audience who is only interested in literal and absolute values and imagery.
Writers like Neil Gaiman have all but destroyed the traditional super-hero mythos in books like "Black Orchid" where the villian, being post-modern and aware of the literary foibles of villians, shoots the hero in the head and kills her - at the very beginning of the book. However, the post-modern audience is such that they are so savvy to the illusion of "good vs. evil" that they will sit through an entire movie knowing full well what it is without having to suspend their disbelief. Unlike a generation ago, people like super-heroes not because they represent other themes or ideas, but because this abstraction of "good vs. evil" is just enough of a literary construct to allow the audience to enjoy said spectafular CGI effects. This type of renting-out-of-awareness is similar to the phenomenon of celebrities who become famous only because they look attractive, like FHM models or women photographed getting out of cars who don't wear underwear.
Hey, savvy know-it-all kids: don't believe meaning. Find it, and then do what you will with it. For video games, it starts with accepting that something else is going on inspite/despite the story that has to do with technology gone amok/saving the world against evil/becoming a crime overlord/something or another that has to do with space marines, ninjas and large breasts.
Video game culture is defined by video gamers, not video games. So let's find it.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Opinion: Why Video Games Aren't Evil
Last night, I met someone new and if that person will be you in the future, expect that I'll bring up my blog. And why not - I'm proud of it, I'm articulating my thoughts and making arguments. All of you "new" people should get wise.
When I told her my blog was about video games, the sky went black and mothers rushed out to pluck their children from the streets and away from harm. Because some guy told her so, she thinks that video games are evil and are fundamentally on par with drugs or alcohol. They are a waste of time and a corruption of the soul.
I kept smiling. I did. Despite all the many counter-arguments I had to politely offer her, I had one big thing to smile about: I had something new to write about the next day in my blog. Baby, your stern expression just made it to Last to Blame - consider yourself internet famous!
I don't know what would possess a person to immediately respond with the new information given them to turn around and rebuke what was said. If nothing else, that's a real conversation killer; the only thing after that is the aversion of eyes and an awkward silence to which I possess a superhuman capacity to stretch out longer than Marlon Brando's attention span when there is a buffet table nearby.
I'm not offended; really, I'm very surprised that there are people in the world who believe things without having experienced for themselves. I try, humbly, with this blog to explain my thoughts about video games and encourage people to think and interpret video games in their own way. So, Aurora, if you took my advice and are reading this, or are some video game bigot who blames these games for taking away your job, your wife and your dignity, please continue reading and let me explain the good about video games.
Before we get to that, I will say that when I tell people about my blog and I explain that it's about video games (and not music, say) people don't know what to think. I don't really know, myself, and I imagine they think I have a blog full of pictures of Mario and Zelda and write slash fiction featuring all the gravelly-voiced video game characters Ron Pearlman has done over the years. I don't know what the conception is, all I've got is my own perception.
I think the assumption of video game culture, if people even think it a culture, as a toy is deeply ingrained in the public, above all within the minds of gamers themselves. People lavish all this attention and time to video games in a way that pre-school kids will fight each other for a rubber bouncy ball. Video games are a culture and gamers should acknowledge this lest they let large corporations dictate the culture to them, like hip hop culture does. That's what I do here on Last to Blame; interpret video games as culture (which they are) and reappropriate this culture from the big money that makes it to the small guy like me who consumes it.
So, to begin: video games are a world-wide culture that has deeply affected many people. I think Aurora would argue that World of Warcraft players or other devotees of MMO's are deeply affected by addiction, but playing a video game does not necessitate addiction. Likewise, someone who works in the alcohol trade need not be an alcoholic; that's like saying sommeliers are all boozehounds, or that wine exporters are drug dealers. To get the subject of addiction out of the way, let it be said that any number of things can be addictive: alcohol, drugs, sex, food, the internet.. and video games. Video games simply gets a bright scarlet letter from the aforementioned tenuous link the public makes with video games and toys and children and also from the simple fact that video games are a new culture and many misassumptions arise from this.
If video games are culture, so what? Well, culture doesn't have any intrinsic value; rather, it's the importance and relevance it has to people, be it high culture (eg. Shadows of the Colossus) or low culture (eg. Onechanbara: Bikini Samurai Squad). What matters is the meaning and fulfilment that culture brings into the lives of those affected. Whether video games can inspire someone to get involved in cosplay or bake a video game cake, or as passive participants can stimulate and arouse excitement and emotions from us from a few hours of playing - well, this has affected us.
Even if video games are culture, it's still base, immature culture at that, right? Well, that's actually something I wholehearted agree with, but I don't leave it at that. Video games are a vibrantly changing medium; tastes and preferences often change at the speed of technological progress. While we have seen a glut of unoriginal games recently (ie. the success of Gears of War means we will see more copycats to come) it stands to chance that with cheaper technology independent game makers will come up with games that stand out against the status quo. Braid, Flower and Noby Noby Boy come to mind as games that are groundbreaking simply for existing in a genre where duplication and imitation are not just expected but encouraged; furthermore, upstart game developers like Molleindustria are making controversial games that are daring enough to instigate discussion on provocative subjects like multi-faith conflicts ("Faith Fighter") and sexual abuse in the Catholic church ("Operation: Pedopriest").
The consumption of video games as art aside, we can all still appreciate video games for what they are to most people: an interesting diversion for some, a hobby for most, and as fun for everyone. And let's take that statement at face value: video games are fun. A whole lot of fun. There isn't much to prove here, but rather let's accept it and not baggage this statement with further opinions and accusations like "things that are that much fun can't possibly be morally good and productive."
To be as blunt as Dorothy Parker and a rucksack full of door knobs: video games are fun, and that's okay. Video games don't need to solve the world's problems and cure the world of cancer. Video games are entertainment that may at times include a thoughtful metaphor, or include a newsworthy current social issue, or provide thought-provoking fodder or something that can make a grown man cry (so I've heard). When that season of "Lost" ended by opening a door that led to yet another door, the resultant face-palming by non-fans could be heard simultaneously throughout the world. To them, it's fun, it's a story, it's entertainment; this same type of attitude could be adopted by those who haven't quite understood video games.
Video games do have a bad rap for being violent, sexist and homophobic and even racist. True, yet we shouldn't brand all video games with the same brush. In fact, we should see that the more artistic video games become, the more violent and sexist and ignorant they can become; as the ability to express becomes more varied and articulate, so too can it convey objectionable themes and ideas. However, that's just the way it goes: "Triumph of the Will" (1935) is a well made film using several innovative techniques that won several international awards and continues to influence the way films are made today; however, it is also a brilliant and charismatic work of propaganda.
Video games also shouldn't be seen as a tool to instruct youngsters how to commit crime and used as a device to decay morals and values. Besides being clearly labelled to which age catagory the game is suitable for so parents will know what is and is not appropriate for their children, video games aren't simulations to instruct children to shoot guns properly nor are tutorials teaching how to carjack a car. If video games could really do that, then we are living in a generation of young super-spies with training in hand-to-hand combat and demolitions; furthermore, video games would have given rise to a whole generation of ninjas with lightning quick reflexes who can catch shot bows in mid air. If this was true, entire governments are at the mercy of these trained assassins who will organise to rebel once the nation's frozen hot-pocket and Mountain Dew supply runs out.
Video games are fun. Video gaming is a culture. Video games are an immersive experience that allow you to actively participate in experiences that you might never ever get the chance to do in real life: you could be a race car driver, an amnesiatic yet powerful blue skinned immortal, the general of vast armies and navies at your command, a dog. The exciting thing about the development of video games is that it appears to soon be only limited by the developer's imagination (and, unfortunately, the demands and expectations of the audience, but that's another story..)
There is, of course, the option that you could try a video game yourself, Aurora. I'm sure a round on the Nintendo Wii Fit board spinning a hula hoop wouldn't be so beneath you. And as I said, I wasn't offended by your statement. In fact, I thought it funny you didn't say anything about the music I had just performed for you, that being jazz, considering that around 30 years ago jazz was considered by your people to be "morally decadent" and outright banned.
So, you prefer Diana Krall over Lara Croft. Hm. Okay. Eidos isn't Blue Note after all. All the same, give video games a chance. I'm sure Diana Krall would approve.
When I told her my blog was about video games, the sky went black and mothers rushed out to pluck their children from the streets and away from harm. Because some guy told her so, she thinks that video games are evil and are fundamentally on par with drugs or alcohol. They are a waste of time and a corruption of the soul.
I kept smiling. I did. Despite all the many counter-arguments I had to politely offer her, I had one big thing to smile about: I had something new to write about the next day in my blog. Baby, your stern expression just made it to Last to Blame - consider yourself internet famous!
I don't know what would possess a person to immediately respond with the new information given them to turn around and rebuke what was said. If nothing else, that's a real conversation killer; the only thing after that is the aversion of eyes and an awkward silence to which I possess a superhuman capacity to stretch out longer than Marlon Brando's attention span when there is a buffet table nearby.
I'm not offended; really, I'm very surprised that there are people in the world who believe things without having experienced for themselves. I try, humbly, with this blog to explain my thoughts about video games and encourage people to think and interpret video games in their own way. So, Aurora, if you took my advice and are reading this, or are some video game bigot who blames these games for taking away your job, your wife and your dignity, please continue reading and let me explain the good about video games.
Before we get to that, I will say that when I tell people about my blog and I explain that it's about video games (and not music, say) people don't know what to think. I don't really know, myself, and I imagine they think I have a blog full of pictures of Mario and Zelda and write slash fiction featuring all the gravelly-voiced video game characters Ron Pearlman has done over the years. I don't know what the conception is, all I've got is my own perception.
I think the assumption of video game culture, if people even think it a culture, as a toy is deeply ingrained in the public, above all within the minds of gamers themselves. People lavish all this attention and time to video games in a way that pre-school kids will fight each other for a rubber bouncy ball. Video games are a culture and gamers should acknowledge this lest they let large corporations dictate the culture to them, like hip hop culture does. That's what I do here on Last to Blame; interpret video games as culture (which they are) and reappropriate this culture from the big money that makes it to the small guy like me who consumes it.
So, to begin: video games are a world-wide culture that has deeply affected many people. I think Aurora would argue that World of Warcraft players or other devotees of MMO's are deeply affected by addiction, but playing a video game does not necessitate addiction. Likewise, someone who works in the alcohol trade need not be an alcoholic; that's like saying sommeliers are all boozehounds, or that wine exporters are drug dealers. To get the subject of addiction out of the way, let it be said that any number of things can be addictive: alcohol, drugs, sex, food, the internet.. and video games. Video games simply gets a bright scarlet letter from the aforementioned tenuous link the public makes with video games and toys and children and also from the simple fact that video games are a new culture and many misassumptions arise from this.
If video games are culture, so what? Well, culture doesn't have any intrinsic value; rather, it's the importance and relevance it has to people, be it high culture (eg. Shadows of the Colossus) or low culture (eg. Onechanbara: Bikini Samurai Squad). What matters is the meaning and fulfilment that culture brings into the lives of those affected. Whether video games can inspire someone to get involved in cosplay or bake a video game cake, or as passive participants can stimulate and arouse excitement and emotions from us from a few hours of playing - well, this has affected us.
Even if video games are culture, it's still base, immature culture at that, right? Well, that's actually something I wholehearted agree with, but I don't leave it at that. Video games are a vibrantly changing medium; tastes and preferences often change at the speed of technological progress. While we have seen a glut of unoriginal games recently (ie. the success of Gears of War means we will see more copycats to come) it stands to chance that with cheaper technology independent game makers will come up with games that stand out against the status quo. Braid, Flower and Noby Noby Boy come to mind as games that are groundbreaking simply for existing in a genre where duplication and imitation are not just expected but encouraged; furthermore, upstart game developers like Molleindustria are making controversial games that are daring enough to instigate discussion on provocative subjects like multi-faith conflicts ("Faith Fighter") and sexual abuse in the Catholic church ("Operation: Pedopriest").
The consumption of video games as art aside, we can all still appreciate video games for what they are to most people: an interesting diversion for some, a hobby for most, and as fun for everyone. And let's take that statement at face value: video games are fun. A whole lot of fun. There isn't much to prove here, but rather let's accept it and not baggage this statement with further opinions and accusations like "things that are that much fun can't possibly be morally good and productive."
To be as blunt as Dorothy Parker and a rucksack full of door knobs: video games are fun, and that's okay. Video games don't need to solve the world's problems and cure the world of cancer. Video games are entertainment that may at times include a thoughtful metaphor, or include a newsworthy current social issue, or provide thought-provoking fodder or something that can make a grown man cry (so I've heard). When that season of "Lost" ended by opening a door that led to yet another door, the resultant face-palming by non-fans could be heard simultaneously throughout the world. To them, it's fun, it's a story, it's entertainment; this same type of attitude could be adopted by those who haven't quite understood video games.
Video games do have a bad rap for being violent, sexist and homophobic and even racist. True, yet we shouldn't brand all video games with the same brush. In fact, we should see that the more artistic video games become, the more violent and sexist and ignorant they can become; as the ability to express becomes more varied and articulate, so too can it convey objectionable themes and ideas. However, that's just the way it goes: "Triumph of the Will" (1935) is a well made film using several innovative techniques that won several international awards and continues to influence the way films are made today; however, it is also a brilliant and charismatic work of propaganda.
Video games also shouldn't be seen as a tool to instruct youngsters how to commit crime and used as a device to decay morals and values. Besides being clearly labelled to which age catagory the game is suitable for so parents will know what is and is not appropriate for their children, video games aren't simulations to instruct children to shoot guns properly nor are tutorials teaching how to carjack a car. If video games could really do that, then we are living in a generation of young super-spies with training in hand-to-hand combat and demolitions; furthermore, video games would have given rise to a whole generation of ninjas with lightning quick reflexes who can catch shot bows in mid air. If this was true, entire governments are at the mercy of these trained assassins who will organise to rebel once the nation's frozen hot-pocket and Mountain Dew supply runs out.
Video games are fun. Video gaming is a culture. Video games are an immersive experience that allow you to actively participate in experiences that you might never ever get the chance to do in real life: you could be a race car driver, an amnesiatic yet powerful blue skinned immortal, the general of vast armies and navies at your command, a dog. The exciting thing about the development of video games is that it appears to soon be only limited by the developer's imagination (and, unfortunately, the demands and expectations of the audience, but that's another story..)
There is, of course, the option that you could try a video game yourself, Aurora. I'm sure a round on the Nintendo Wii Fit board spinning a hula hoop wouldn't be so beneath you. And as I said, I wasn't offended by your statement. In fact, I thought it funny you didn't say anything about the music I had just performed for you, that being jazz, considering that around 30 years ago jazz was considered by your people to be "morally decadent" and outright banned.
So, you prefer Diana Krall over Lara Croft. Hm. Okay. Eidos isn't Blue Note after all. All the same, give video games a chance. I'm sure Diana Krall would approve.
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