Touché, bitches!

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August, 2009 Monthly archive

Just watch this Girls’ Generation (SNSD) performance from the Special Force ProLeague final in South Korea. Girls’ Generation are a manufactured 9-piece girl-group who sing sickly sweet songs about, well, love and boys. But the group’s initials are GG. Totally rad.

The second song, Gee, yields an unparalleled amount of catchy-ness:

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I recently read ‘A Trilogy in 7 Parts’ over at Hit Self-Destruct (heart!). In the first part, Mitch Krpata exposes—rather earnestly—his feelings about the diminishing allure of video game journalism. But unlike his contemporaries in the field of lit criticism, he doesn’t bemoan any so-called death of journalism. Instead he credits game journalism with having become more informed and educated over recent years. And I, for one, agree with him. But why is it that while the standards of general journalism decrease in many other fields due to mass layoffs of editorial and support staff [1] [2] the standards of game journalism increase?

I think the coinciding of Web 2.0 and the rise of game criticism have had something to do with it. Where other types of writing have struggled to keep their heads above the surface of the ever-rising deep that is the ‘new media’, a school of game critics have formed itself within its boundaries and dexterously utilized its components. The high quality of online game writing produced has thus kept game writers—both print and web—on their toes.

But what can Web 2.0 offer writers that print can’t? Well, here are a few ideas:

  1. A new peer-review process: Game critics can post an article and have the whole internet fact-check, theory-parse and critique it. This is a new incarnation of the peer-review process.
  2. Journals 2.0: They are forming left, right, above and behind, just not in the form we’ve previously known. In fact, many members of them have never met. Community game blog Critical Distance, for example, essentially functions like a think tank by bringing amateur critics together and releasing podcasts and articles. Coupled with the peer-review process discussed in points 1, I’d argue we can consider this a type of journal.

  3. Direct contact between author and reader: In traditional academic fields, writers can rarely receive direct feedback from their audience but depend on the guidance of editors. But in the world of Web 2.o, writers who keep blogs get direct feedback and often in abundance. How does this apply to game critics? Well, because a lot of game critics are putting their work straight onto the internet, they put themselves at the critical behest of the entire community, often coming face-to-face (sort of) with people who know a lot more than they do. This results in a hell of a lot more accountability.

For many years, I’ve been involved in lit writing —both academic and journalistic—and the presence of critical lit writing online is non-existent save the traditional institutions (New Yorker, McSweeney, Paris Review). As such, lit journalists generally don’t have much pressure on them from online writing. Nonetheless, this issue is in the minds of many people in publishing [1] [2].

Game criticism, on the other hand, is far more prevalent on the net. And coupled with the above components, is of a generally high quality. By embracing the faculties of the new media, web-writers have consequently forced established journalists to improve and effectively save themselves.

When talking about Web 2.0, people tend to talk about how it is set to destroy traditional medias. Seldom do you hear how it can produce good writing. Hopefully, though, I’ve illustrated some of the ways faculties of the internet have helped produce good writing in game criticism and (arguably) incidentally improved game writing at large.

So why not start looking to the future instead of bemoaning the present? It seems to be accepted that all types of medias are changing rapidly. If you ask me, this means we should start preparing for a near-future that will be utterly different to the recent-past. Besides, I don’t think it looks that bad at all.

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Although I don’t really agree with Amanda Kloer’s post at End Human Trafficking, she points out some interesting moves made by the seller of infamous Rapelay, BGamebox. Apparently they have recategorized said game as a ‘Platinum’ game and not a ‘Rape’ (‘ryoujoku’) game. The company has gone further and renamed other games in hopes of making them sound less ‘bad’. As Amanda Kloer points out, Gang Raped by the Entire Village: Girls Covered in Milky Liquid is now The Trap Set by the Entire Village: Bodies Covered in Milky Liquid.

The article as a whole, however, has a notably old-world approach. Kloer holds that the media is a pervasive and insidious force. As she says, the aforementioned games ‘train players (often young men) how to rape and abuse women and train them as sex slaves’. This I disagree with. They they might attract rapists (or those with a rape fetish), but they don’t train them. See this article for a discussion about the issue RE Rapelay.

[http://humantrafficking.change.org/blog/view/sex_slave_training_video_game_for_sale_under_new_euphemism]
[http://www2.bgamebox.com/oshirase.htm]
[http://www.touchebitches.com/2009/06/lets-do-pomo-again-rape-games.html]

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When you hear a game described as an RTS, a few staple images are conjured—elfs and orcs fighting in forests, tanks blasting insectoids out of their burrows, the desolate landscape of Arrakis. So when I heard about the indie RTS Dyson I was kind of intrigued—indie games at large largely call upon platformers, RPGs and the ambiguously titled interactive story genre. How would this game explore, deconstruct or expand the genre as most indies are want to do?

Predictably, Dyson is very different to what you’d typically classify as an RTS. Sure, it’s got several usual tenets—resource-gathering, army-building, diversification—but it lacks many of the complexities. For example, your army self replicates cutting out much of the macro associated with most RTS games. Likewise, unit attack automatically eliminating micro. But this is not a bad thing!

Dyson was nominated in several categories at the Independent Games Festival including the Seumas McNally. You see, Dyson is such an immersive game. Not immersive in the way BioShock is, but in a highly aesthetic sort of way. It’s visually very simple—solid lines, few colors—and it’s built around a neat engine which provides smooth animation and action. Your units are little seedlings. They glide around in circles and stream from planet to planet as you amass more and more. Mix this with an ambient soundtrack—which is unusual for video games—and you have a highly meditative experience. Imagine Atlas Sound spent two years in a monastery then made a video game—that’s what Dyson is like. It’s peaceful, almost abstract and aesthetically-focused game.

But Dyson is very much for the indie-gamer. If it’s hardcore gameplay you’re after, you won’t get much out of the experience. In the current build there is no online play and I can’t see it being particularly conducive to Dyson. But I don’t think that’s the point of Dyson. While I wouldn’t say it necessarily deconstructs or explores RTS like The Path did RPG, it does expand it by generating a very different experience. It’ll be interesting to see how it’s received once it gets a final retail release in October. Will other indie games look to the RTS; how will its aesthetics be perceived?

There is currently a free build available.

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