Shallow Depths

The hip thing to do at the moment is apparently to reject the use of the word 'gamer' and tell people not to identify themselves that way.  Maybe I'm just not fashionable, but I have some reasons for standing up for the label (though not without limits).

The first issue is a lack of alternatives.

When I named this blog I accepted that including gamer in the title has its problems, but it is still meaningful.  Game can mean all kinds of things, but gamer is probably going to be about video games -- or possibly pencil and paper roleplaying, which is also accurate in my case.

Now, I could have tried to come up with a clever name without needing to include games as a term at all.  I could have incorporated something people might recognise from gaming culture, perhaps.  "Giant enemy crab set us up the bomb" isn't very personal really.  More seriously, I doubt I could have come up with something to fit.

My other option was to not worry about referencing games at all, and just use a blog title I happened to like.  Since I write for myself first and anyone else second that could have worked, but I still wanted to say something about what I was trying to do here.

Trying to use terms people will recognise... that's a marketing decision.  This is where some of the venom against the term gamer comes from.  These labels are designed to sell or promote stuff, and that makes them evil, right?

Marketing is only evil when it's trying to sell you something you don't really want.  Directing people to the things they are genuinely interested in is just sensible, and helpful all around.  Also, directing people away from things they don't want, for that matter.

Another major argument directed against identifying as a gamer is stereotyping.  Yahtzee covered this one recently on his Extra Punctuation column.  So, punks kick rubbish bins, goths want to eat your babies, and gamers are neckbearded manchildren.  Everyone knows these things are not really true (don't they?), but arguably the associations still flash up in people's minds.

(For the record, there is nothing wrong with a neckbeard.  That's just another meaningless beauty standard, like the people who expect me to shave my legs and armpits.  Screw the lot of them, and just be yourself.)

That stereotype doesn't enter into my head.  Gamer is convenient shorthand for someone who plays video games, and that's rapidly becoming everyone.  It's good to avoid over-using any term, but I don't think it's worth getting too worked up over this one specifically.

Maybe that's expecting too much from the general public, but I'm not writing for everyone.  I'm writing for people who are already understand.  I don't need to debate whether games can be art, because I am already past that point.  And I don't need to defend myself or worry about how I look.  I can just get on with things.

You can assume I'm a manchild if you like, but it's probably going to make you look like an idiot.

I do have my own pet disagreements about terms I'd like to see people cutting back on,  particularly 'gameplay' and genre labels.  That's a matter of clarity and ease of discussion.  Sometimes there is still a use for a term for a collective of people who play games, so I am happy to leave that in my vocabulary.

Rather than encouraging stereotypes, I think the main issue with calling yourself a gamer is exclusivity.  If gamers exist, so do non-gamers.  Then battle-lines can be drawn and we can start saying that those millions of Farmville players are not real gamers.  Not terribly constructive, but it hints at the reason behind the desire to group ourselves.

Video games are still fighting for recognition equal to other media.  That can make people defensive, and inclined to identify similar individuals, as well as create safe spaces where we can talk about our hobby without fear of disproportionate judgement.  Except from Yahtzee.

I'd like to say we are past needing that, and I hope we soon will be.  I think the harshest critics of the label gamer are the ones who most want us to be past that point.  I sympathise, but have to accept the reality of broader society.

Currently, I can't completely discount the value of a tribe.  Gamer can mean belonging to something, and that being okay.  Subcultures gets a bad rap, but  there's a good reason they exist.  The critics might want to take a hard look at why they want to attack various elements of society.  Perhaps deciding not to be 'us' is seen as the decision to be against us?

We disprove that easily.  Taking a label doesn't mean excluding others.  At Freeplay speakers could admit to not playing games and still be considered an equal.  We are constantly on the edge of new innovations, and broadening culture.  I am not going to be ashamed of the passion involved in labeling myself part of that right now -- though not at the expense of other elements of myself, naturally.

Having said all that, I now need to admit to a possible double standard.  I'm still trying to nut this one out in my head, but 'girl gamer' I really hate, even though the same arguments could be made.  I suppose I'll defend the right of others to label themselves girl gamers even though the thought of using it myself is vile.  That's fair, and they don't threaten me by choosing their own categories.

This is the point where I have to wonder where some people get off on telling other people how they can and can't identify themselves.  I'll defend a designated girl gamer's rights even though I don't understand her need personally.

If you don't want to identify as a gamer that's cool.  Do those of us who do use the label sometimes really threaten you so much you need to tell us not to?

It's been over a week since Freeplay Independent Games Festival, which might be enough time to start properly gathering my thoughts.

I want to start with a massive disclaimer.  I am not about to do the festival or the many excellent presenters justice.  The positive energy and ideas are better covered elsewhere.

For example, in Brendan Keogh's write-ups on Gamasutra:

• Brandon Boyer Tells Indies To 'Be Yourself, Be Wonderful'.
• Why Adam Saltsman Makes Video Games.
• The Difficulty of Understanding A World That Can't Exist.

I'm embracing not only the idea that "All Play is Personal," but that everything is personal.  After all, that's partly the point of this blog.

So, this will be half self-indulgent talk about my own experience, and half jumping off-topic based vaguely on something a presenter said.  Unfortunately that happens most often when I disagree with or misunderstand someone, which is why I add my disclaimer about not doing Freeplay justice.  Most discussion caused me to nod agreement or feel contagious excitement, but I don't have much to say about that right now.

I attended Freeplay 2010 as an observer, happy to listen and absorb as much as possible.  That's an awkward position to take at an event full of interaction, but I guess that's just the way I am.  I take my thoughts away, let them stew for a while, and only then begin to express them.  The problems with that may well show in these write-ups, for example idly wondering how the workshops went.

My passive approach is probably a large part of why I had nerves to overcome.  But I wandered down to the State Library on a lovely wintery Saturday morning, and my tension settled.  There's nothing threatening about settling myself into a theatrette to watch a presentation.  It's a lot like being back at uni again -- old familiar ground.

It's also possible I've become so used to the anxiety I stopped even feeling it for a while.  I lost the adrenaline rush when my phone rings, the tensed up muscles navigating a crowd, or even the little butterflies in the pit of my stomach when I think of someone I'm attracted to.  All that leaves is a numbness, and a willingness to sit quietly and accept existence.  From the outside it looks even more paralysing than a physical response, but I care less.

Okay, now I'm just being overly dramatic.

The Design of Everything

This session explored different approaches to the creative process.  This is quite a bit broader than just video games, which could be said about most of the sessions I attended.  Throughout Freeplay I heard a lot of muttering and questions from the audience about how each discussion applies to games specifically.  I was disappointed some people couldn't find their own relevance.  I hope I just happened to sit near the few people who didn't completely 'get it'.

I'm not much of a creator.  Or, at least, I'm quite new to the idea of myself as a potential creator.  The various processes people use fascinate me.  The main thing I took away from the Design of Everything panel was the idea of creating from a visual perspective.  I'm all about characters and ideas, and focus more on concepts than aesthetics.  I would probably begin with themes, characters and setting (not necessarily in exactly that order).  Deane Taylor and Ian Gouldstone are animators.  They may very well begin with things I wouldn't even consider until much further down the track.

Michelle Gilmore from Neoteny also presented an unfamiliar process of Service Design.  I understand the concept of neoteny in biology -- the retention of juvenile characteristics in adults.  Like axolotl gill-retention, or lactose tolerance in adult humans.  I don't consider play a juvenile characteristic.  That doesn't invalidate anything she might say about how adult play can be utilised, but still started me off on slightly the wrong foot.

Most of what I kept in my head was discomfort about this use of the term neoteny, and a picture of coloured post-it-notes.  That much I at least understand.  My walls and floor were covered in that sort of stuff while I was studying, and I still use those methods for brainstorming sometimes.  I have to wonder if there's more to it than that.  Discussion of that sort of process often sounds like corporate wank used to make the obvious sound more complicated.  In other words, we are all capable of that creation anyway, but she has a business to promote.  Maybe that's horribly unfair, and being part of the process is probably very different to discussing it abstractly.  I'd be interested to hear how their prototyping workshop went.  Also, I do forget how often stating the (arguably) obvious can be useful.

What she did cause me to think more about was group brainstorming and creativity.  I'm a lone wolf, and have never been very good at sharing projects.  I am very secretive about my own creative process, because I worry about anyone else seeing a work in progress.  I want people to criticise things that deserve it, not things still unfinished.  I know that's often not an ideal way of looking at it, because incorporating other people's ideas early on is easier.

I am shaped by experiences growing up, particularly times when I've felt dismissed by teachers, my parents, and other people around me.  It's not helpful baggage to be carrying around, and I'm trying to break out of it.

Andrew Drage (Editor/Tester Tin Man Games) began this session by explaining his approach to writing stories.  Andrew's approach doesn't work well for me.  He creates the beginning and end, then fills in events in the middle.  I'm not saying that's wrong -- he also admitted that there are many different approaches.  But I'm more character-driven than plot-driven, so a story written like that is unlikely to ring true for me.  The risk is that characters end up making decisions based more on the pre-determined ending (and other planned events) than on their own nature.

My fiction writing attempts so far have been abysmal, admittedly, but we all have to start somewhere.  Still, I know that the best parts occurred when I understood the characters and just let them speak for themselves and run in whatever direction they please.  I always thought I'd be the type to plan everything out carefully, but that didn't work at all.

Andrew's main point seemed to be to just go ahead and create something you enjoy, and I certainly can't argue with that.

I spent the weekend at Freeplay Independent Games Festival here in Melbourne. I wasn't at my most interactive that's for sure, but did sit quietly and listen to a lot of great speakers. I'm still turning it all over in my head.

Others will probably write about more specific ideas from the various sessions. As usual, I'm going to write about a more individual experience.

I wasn't too sure what I might get out of Freeplay, given that I enjoy playing and writing about games, but have never been interested in making them myself. I expected some new ideas to think about, possibly also a bit more insight into the development process.

I didn't quite expect the level of passion and inspiration. I also didn't expect to start making connections in my mind to my day job, and where there might one day be great synergies. I keep different aspects of my life fairly fragmented, so crossovers come as a surprise.

I work in ecology. Urban ecology, to be more specific. As the people who give a damn about biodiversity in urban areas we spend a lot of time trying to work with competing land uses and perceptions of value.

The theme of Freeplay this year was "Play is Everywhere" and there was quite a bit of discussion of Augmented Reality. A lot of it's fairly conceptual, there are still tech limitations, and no one knows the likely future applications. But when people start talking about how play can be used to alter how people use and perceive spaces around them I can't help but get really excited.

People are usually very concerned with the here and now. I am interested in how to overcome that, and be constantly showing things outside the temporal and spatial boundaries of our perceptions. A lot of information is available, but people are not connecting with it. It almost makes me want to run away and join the AR-circus.

Working in conservation feels like being permanently on the edge of giving up on the world (for me, at least). So, to be faced with so much enthusiasm about the future... yeah, I'm a little bit jealous. It's the first time I've been tempted to be part of all that creative energy.

My latest review is for Star Ocean: The Last Hope - International (no, I don't really know how I should punctuate multiple levels of subtitles, damn them).  I guess it was about time for something I don't like. And as much as I love roleplaying I've yet to find a JRPG I can really appreciate.

Also, I know I probably shouldn't call these "reviews" exactly, but it's more convenient than trying to explain what they actually are.  This particular example is  more typically review-like than usual for me, but still doesn't cover all the usual checkpoints.

Anyway, Star Ocean... I wrote this in the middle of my phase of experimenting with cliches.  It's actually a bit of a private joke.  I wrote about an overly-troped game and slid in a couple of borrowed phrases like "pales in comparison" and "silver lining".  It will be completely lost on everyone else, but I enjoy keeping myself amused.

I'm a bit weird, in that even when I don't like something I sometimes think it's worth experiencing anyway.  This gets me into trouble.  I tell someone I don't like a certain genre of movie and then get confused when they don't invite me to the cinema.

For all my complaining about this game, I sunk about 40 hours into it.  The only reason I didn't finish it was that the copy I was sent is scratched, and I started getting frequent disc errors.  With a huge time between save points it doesn't take many errors to make it unplayable.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed at those disc errors.  I have big problems with the game, so it's kind of nice to have an excuse to leave it.  At the same time, I had a morbid curiosity to see how much more disturbing it gets.  Not curious enough to actually spend money on disc repair, but still.

There is a lot I didn't go into about the character interactions, and I keep wondering how far they are going to push things.  There is even a slight hint of paedophilia, extending to an accidental kiss.  I don't mention it partly because it makes me look like I can't recognise a non-sexual relationship when I see one.  But even as a friendship it's pretty darn creepy, honestly.

Apparently in the manual they claim she's fifteen to reduce any potential issues.  Yep, I believe them:

I don't care if she's part of a short, alien race.  She looks and acts about five years old at the most.  Also, I wish I didn't just go image hunting... lots of disturbing fan art I now cannot un-see.

What makes character design sexualised?

I've been thinking about this question a lot recently.  I've encountered a few game characters lately who show a lot of skin, but don't imply (to me) that sex was objective of their design.  I find this quite encouraging, but of course not everyone sees these particular examples in the same way.

It's possible that being a straight female makes it easier for me to see female nudity (or semi-nudity) as something other than sexual, but I suspect that's being unfair.  It's also quite possible I'm just horribly naïve, but even if my examples turn out to be poor the idea remains interesting.

Some people do continue to complain about nudity in painting and sculpture, but there's mainstream acceptance of the artistic merits. I don't see any reason games shouldn't also be capable of meaningful exploration of the human form.

I worry sometimes about how censorship alters the perception of our bodies. Where once a naked child might have represented innocence, now it probably implies something much darker. Innocence is corrupted not just by paedophilia itself, but also by the perception and consciousness of it.

Nudity does not automatically equal sex, though. I like to approach it with a more open mind.

In The Void the Sisters are naked except for glowing chains, which are gradually removed as you feed them with colour. Their bodies writhe, dance, or spin. Depending on your viewpoint it's either cheap titillation or tasteful art.

I haven't played far enough yet to know what's going on in The Void. I don't know what my later interpretations will be. But the important point is that I didn't automatically link this nudity to sex. It's an artistic game overall, and that's how I approached it.

My initial impressions are definitely about beauty and vulnerability rather than eroticism. Naturally linking a nude female to vulnerability may be problematic for other reasons, but it was my honest reaction.

Our male character is also shown naked, though he's also rather, erm, emasculated, which probably adds to the impression of his vulnerability. Sisters are also lacking when it comes to genitals, but that doesn't carry quite the same connotations.  It acts as an equaliser, at least in my early stage of the game.  As my character becomes more powerful I expect to see him quite differently, but maybe if the game remains tense enough he might retain that vulnerability.

Recently I've had some good-natured arguments about Jack from Mass Effect 2. In her default outfit she's naked above the waist, with only a thin harness for modesty. Now, Jack is arguably a sexual character. At least, she has a casual approach to sex and is a romance option for male Shepard. That's not the first impression I get from her appearance though.

I know I'm not the best judge of female attractiveness, but to me the look is more tough than sexy. She'll wear whatever the fuck she wants, and I find it doubtful she's doing it to pander to a sexual gaze. The tattoos also make her seem more clothed than she actually is.



My Shepard is also not to be messed with, so watching her and Jack facing off is pretty interesting. My partner has a more paragon approach, and finds Jack's attitude intimidating and appearance confronting. Our reactions were very different, and I think he'd say I was being too generous in suggesting that Jack's appearance was not sexually motivated. I think of her in pretty much the same way I would a man with their shirt off.  In the hot day socially acceptable sense, not the male model sense.

Where the Sisters in the Void are naked and vulnerable, Jack bares her skin as a sign of strength. There's a huge diversity of symbols and ideas we potentially cut ourselves off from through censorship, or by simplifying nudity in our minds to always be about sex.

Not to say that there's necessarily a problem when it is about sex. There's nothing wrong with exploring natural elements of human experience.

I am not the target audience for DeathSpank.  My partner enjoyed it though, and since I was curled up sick on the couch for a couple of days I gave it a try.

DeathSpank is a stupid but well-meaning hero, searching the land for a mysterious artifact and aiding the downtrodden.  It's the standard action-rpg formula given a cartoon make-over and infused with constant attempts at humour.

I have to wonder now, who exactly is the target audience for DeathSpank?  Even on hard difficulty it often feels like skipping through the landscape casually squashing enemies.  I can't imagine that's very satisfying for fans of games like Diablo and Torchlight, where I am assured there is more chance of being swarmed and overwhelmed.

DeathSpank certainly isn't very satisfying for those of us who prefer more strategy with our combat.  If the enemies do have useful tells I couldn't see them among the busy scenery*.   There are some weapon combos and other tricks, but it's mostly going to come down to button mashing.

I have to assume the combat in DeathSpank is also going for the light-hearted approach, to go along with its comedic vision.

I am not well qualified to discuss comedy, perhaps.  To me, most comedy comes spontaneously from life, and I don't see much need to seek out a more crafted version.  A lot of the funniest game moments for me were completely unintentional.  Sentences with unintended double-meanings are pretty common, especially in translated games.

When I do seek out deliberate comedy, on one end of the spectrum I enjoy cleverness or subtlety.  Alternately, I sometimes enjoy incredibly over-the-top humour.  DeathSpank is somewhere in the middle, at the point where humour falls flat for me.  It's not particularly clever, but it also plays the world surprisingly straight.  Silly is fine, but it needed to go a lot further to work.

A lot of the obvious gags in DeathSpank involve toilet humour or sexual innuendo.  Those things can work, but I expected more.  Good lines were rare.

I really hated the characters.  DeathSpank himself isn't too bad, since I'm used to over-done heroes.  He was quite inconsistent though.  He reads like a stupid person written by a smart person.  Use of the term "oxyoxymoron" springs to mind.  After complaining about a magic seal due to cruelty to defenceless sea creatures I don't accept his language stretches to mangling oxymoron.

I wanted to hit just about everyone DeathSpank met.  The dialogue is rubbish, and the deliberately hammy and strangely pronounced voice acting grated on me.  I'm not normally very sensitive about voice acting, but it was incredibly forced.

Bong the Potioneer wasn't bad, I'll give them that much.  Of course, he was particularly chilled about the whole thing and so unlikely to ram a weird accent into my poor brain.


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*The cartoon style kind of cool, but really gave me a headache after a while.  I possibly need new glasses, but I don't think that would have helped much.

This week I review something far less serious -- rhythm platform game  Maestro! Jump in Music.

I wrote about silliness, which is like another world to me right now.  I'm in a serious mood.  It's my birthday on Saturday, and that usually makes me withdrawn.  Getting older is inevitable and not particularly sad, but I associate my birthday with a lot of memories, and often spend it indulging in melancholy.