Nemesis Returns

Once again, Nemesis has returned to punish my hubris. As a teenager, she haunted me. Again in University she dogged me. She is back and she will not rest until my career lies in ruins and my friends and family hate me.

Her bargain is simple. I get to play a really fun strategy game. I get to be the leader of a tribe and raise them to a world-spanning empire. I develop their technologies and tinker with their government. But in exchange for playing with the lives of millions, Nemesis destroys my free time for daring to play the role of god. The bargain is unequal yet still I slaver for the game of the bitch-goddess. And as my talents go to waste and my social life collapses, she laughs.

It says "Start", but not "End".

Her game is Sid Meier's Civilization. I first became hooked when the game was ported to the Super Nintendo. If I close my eyes I can still hear every note of the endlessly cycling modern-era music, inspiring nausea.

In 1997 I aquired Civilization II for my Mac. How many hours vanished into that void? I could not say. But when I returned to University I was playing it when I should have been studying. I must have been playing it in 1998 as well because I remember thinking to myself that I should be learning about Hinduism or practicing for the Saskatoon Symphony. Historical footnote: I got kicked out of the Symphony. Coincidence?

I managed to dodge Civilization III in 2005 on virtue of it being a stanky retread of Civ II.

But some of you may have noticed that I didn't write any blog posts this January. Eris protect me, Nemesis is back. And I'm not even playing the recently-released Civilization V. It's the old Civ IV and I'm helpless again. I am so powerless that I would rather be playing it that the latest addicto-thon for the PS3, Skyrim.

Gilgamesh sez, "Dude, your baby's crying."

I told my wife I wouldn't be playing Civ IV single-player anymore the other day. But today I came down to my office to write. "I'll just check out the Carthagenians." An hour later, I said to myself, "You're playing this game. You should stop." Two hours later, I finally managed to regain control. Thank Eris I managed to halt myself before the sun set. If I had let myself, I would have played deep into the night and woken exhausted.

Help. Me.

The Ten Worst Fraggers Ever

I shall never be a great fragger of men.

I came to this realization after I decided to stop playing Call of Duty: World at War. It was a game with everything I could have wanted: realistic historical weapons, customizable equiment and a great World War II setting. Yet I had to quit.

It's not that I lack the talent. Nor do I lack the time, although my free time is precious now that I have the little one. So what was it? After many hours online, I keep running into the same personalities over and over again. Some are worse than others and some make playing not fun anymore.

Here they are, my least favourite reoccurring assholes that we've all met and killed a thousand times. What makes these people special is that they are representatives for larger themes within human existence, which I note in each entry. I dislike these personalities so much that I am really not sure if I'll ever play a FPS online again.

10. The Guy who only says, "Aw fuck"
He sounds urban in a vague kind of way, kind of a half Afro-American half Hispanic drawl. I imagine him sitting at his console dressed top to bottom in Nike gear with his cap spun sideways. Regardless of his socio-political origins, his vocabulary is limited. You know this because every time he dies he says, "Aw fuck", "Oh fuck, meeee-an!" or "Fuck, this is bullshit!" And he dies a lot, resulting in a constant stream of banal profanity.

"Aw fuck."

He is the ultimate nobody in a sea of faceless gamers, desperately wanting to be heard but having nothing to say. His pointless expletives are a constant reminder that the coming generation of youngsters is destined to die in obscurity.

9. The Singing Kid
I find attempts to shelter children from mature-rated games to be absolute nonsense. Regardless of your moral stance on this issue, everybody has the issue backwards. Children don't need to protected from content. Adults need to be protected from children.

There should be two internets: one for adults and one for children. The Singing Kid is the ultimate argument in I have in favour of this proposal. The last thing a bloodthirsty adult needs to hear when he's trying to slaughter his contemporaries is some little brat yelping the latest pop song into his bluetooth. He tunelessly chatters on and on. Then he unexpectedly shouts, "What?!" and the last you hear of him before his connection drops is his distant mother telling him it's bedtime.

I've often tried to speculate on the motives of The Singing Kid. At first I thought he was a troll attempting to goad people into telling him to shut up. Now I'm not so sure. The world of FPSs is comparably silent and it has been a long time since I've heard somebody tell a Singing Kid to shut up. I now believe there is no motive, that the truth is much more horrifying. The Singing Kid is an agent of madness, sent to bedevil our games, by some dark power beyond the veil of reality.

8. The Teamkiller
Most games these days, including CoD:WaW have safeguards against teamkilling. In Hardcore mode, in which team damage is "on", one occasionally hears the in-game announcer saying something very satisfying like, "Get that sonofabitch outta here" or "He ain't fit to wear the uniform" as somebody is kicked.

Such safeguards make teamkilling all the more frustrating, confusing and senseless. Teamkillers must dream ways to skirt the safeguards. I'm reminded of an incident where the wife was invited to a team on City of Heroes. Her new "friend" asked to teleport her to his location and she agreed. She suddenly found herself hundreds of feet in the air and fell to the ground with a splat.

The teamkiller is the brooding psycho that lurks in humankind. He delights in sowing mayhem and sneering at his victims. I will never understand the appeal of teamkilling.

7. The Neo-Nazi
Okay, that's a lie. I do understand teamkilling, but not for the standard reasons. FPSs attract a certain section of society, and with WWII games in particular, the Neo-Nazis appear. The other day I played a Team Deathmatch and some asshole called "junglbunnystomper25" was on my team. My goddess, did I ever want to hunt him down and shoot him over and over again. But he was on my team and I was forced to cooperate with him. I was so angry.

His other pasttime.

Then there's the guys that see my online name, YouFang, and assume I'm Chinese. Nope. So when they go, "Oh, ching-chong, sing-song so solly!" it annoys me on a different level than they were hoping.

First Person Shooters are one of the last civilized places you can hang with crazies like these (and no, the American South doesn't count as civilized). Other than the Army, I guess. I suppose I'm not the only college-educated Marine who's had to share a foxhole with a racist mouth-breather from Arkansas.

6. The Guy who Leaves his Live Mic Lying Around so I Have to Hear his Rap Music.
You know he's there because he's killing you and you sometimes hear him clear his throat or cough. He's just happily listening to his music and playing his game. Only his mic is on. And we can all hear his music. For some reason, it's always, always gangsta rap.

There's no point trying to tell him his mic is on. The sound is going through his headphones' mic and he's obviously not wearing them. Even if you were to shout loud enough for him to hear, the rap music would drown the sound. If there's no option to mute him the only way out is to quit the game.

This guy is a reminder that human society is very closely knit. No matter what you do or don't do today, you are going to ruin somebody's day even if you never find out.

5. The Hotshot "Leader"

To be fair, he's pretty good at the game. He would probably be better, though, if he didn't expend so much energy ordering his teammates about and badmouthing them. Everything his friends do infuriates him because his ego is too huge for any game to contain. Here's some sample dialogue:

"Shoot him! Shoot him! Hah, now you're fucking dead, you shoulda shot him! God now he killed me, God you're such a fucking idiot! YouFang you fucker, you stole my kill! Get the flag! Get the flag you fag! God, way to die, moron!"

And God help thee if thou teamslayest him in error. For then thou shalt unleash a deluge of abuse and be thyself teamslain by Him, that thou shalt know the idiocy of thy ways.

Just as in real life, bad managers exist in the world of video games. However, in video games, nobody asks them to be in charge.

4. The Inquisitor
Whenever you actually do well at a video game, Inquisitors materialize to accuse you of cheating. Swearing ensues. No arguing will convince them. So sure are they that you are hacking that they sometimes follow you into other games or send you personal messages. It's never skill or bad connectivity, it's always cheating.

I think the Inquisitor might actually be the other face of the Hotshot "Leader". If the Leader actually loses to people on the other team, his ego would collapse if it was a result of sucking. So therefore it has to be cheating, right? The Inquisitor represents the human mental defect that blames their folly on secret consipiracies when their own abilities fail.

3. Captain Echo
Here's a hint for all you dumbasses out there: either turn down the sensitivity of your mic or turn down the volume of your TV. I am so goddess-damned sick of hearing every shout and explosion echoing through your voice port.

Captain Echo is significant because he's... uh... he's just fucking dumb, okay?

2. Oink-Pig

Gaming is very addictive and when you are caught in the majesty of another universe, it's hard to find time to eat. It's a temptation to eat while gaming. And yes, that's okay. What isn't cool is not turning off your mic. Nobody wants to hear the sloppy crunch of your Cheetos, the smaking of your lips or your tongue darting in and out of your mouth, Oink-Pig. And we especially don't want to hear you burping. Over and over again.

Oink-Pig is a nice symbol selfishness of consumer culture. He could take measures to curb the "externalities" of his consumption which cause misery to others, but honestly it's too much work and he doesn't care. BUUUURRRRRP!

"Once there were a man who try to make his skill ultimate..." - Samurai Showdown

1. The Game Breaker
This is by far my least favourite personality. Which is too bad, because the Game Breaker is the ultimate symbol of excellence in humankind.

In the world of RPGs, such individuals are called "Power Gamers". To be a true game breaker, you must want to win and nothing else. You don't play to have fun. The only fun is in triumph.

First you must know your equipment. Where equipment is customizable, choose only equipment that causes the most kills, not that which is coolest or most fun. If equipment is not customizable but collectible on the map, head straight for the good guns. Headshot anything in your way.

Secondly, you must know your maps. Every map has nooks where nobody can see you. Find them and take up sniping position.

Thirdly, you must know the broken-rules and glitches in the game. Find which ones you can exploit. Ones that defy physics and graphics are especially useful because n00bs won't expect or understand them. If there's a way to walk through a wall, you must find it.

And lastly, you must be the best. You must play and play until your reflexes are unrivaled. You must be able to headshot a n00b the quarter-second you see him, not the half-second. This is what is truly admirable/scary about Power Gamers is the sheer devotion to mastery of a useless pasttime. One wonders what these people could do if they devoted half the energy to real life what they sank into first person shooters.

It was this last personality that finally soured me on online CoD. In my final game, a Game Breaker stood directly behind a concrete wall, fired through it with a rifle and head-shotted the guy in front of me from a room away. I had just enough time to process this before I too was shot in the head. My goddess, such devotion!

Game Breakers are utterly predictable in their behaviour but what makes them frustrating is that it doesn't matter if you become wise to their tricks. Their skills are so ultimate that you can't defeat them on even footing.

Right now, the console version of Might and Magic: Clash of Heroes is utterly unplayable because of Game Breakers. If you try to play it online right now, some 161st level guy will slaughter you using the undead team, the cursed shield as an artifact and either Death Knights or Bone Dragons as a special unit. Every online game becomes broken like this unless the designers constantly monitor it, seal the glitches, depower the abilities that are too tough and constantly thwart the Game Breakers as they seize some new angle. I remember people complaining about Blizzard constantly tweaking StarCraft, but it absolutely must be done to maintain the fun. Video Games are supposed to be fun.
---

So that's it with me and online competition for awhile. All the games I'm craving are one-player only. There, the only annoying personality I have to deal with is my own.

MMO Games are Officially Boring Now

Awhile ago, I played a game on Facebook called Mafia Wars. I'm sure that this game has undergone massive changes in the year-and-a-half since I quit playing, but back then, it was a disaster. You clicked buttons over and over again which represented various crimes. You bought and received simplistic items, including horribly unbalanced items that could be purchased with real dollars. Then you spent health points to attack other people, another button-clicking action that produced simplistic results. This poorly-planned mess could barely be called a game. And yet I came back again and again, checking my Mafia Wars account several times daily once my energy meters refilled to click more buttons.

Why? Because the game also included character development and advancement. After each crime you committed you gained experience points and levelled the abilities of your character. I had to stay up just one extra hour so I could gain enough energy to commit a crime that would level me! Ooh! I just got an awesome ice cream truck that adds to my attack score! Greasy Jeremy's doing awesome!

That was okay for awhile, but then it began to irritate me. I began the question the spiritual, intellectual, temporal and entertainment purpose of levelling my Mafia Wars character. When I searched for answers, I saw the roaring abyss of nothingness and knew it was time to move on. Greasy Jeremy went clean and gifted all items he was able to his friends who played.

It was after I had purchased DC Universe Online two months ago that I began to hear the roar of the abyss again. I had been anticipating the release of this game for more than a year. Superheroes are awesome and I was eager to play an MMO on my PS3. At first I took delight as Ludwig van Scorchoven, a tight-panted, shirtless villain wearing a top hat, launched burning meteors at victims through sheer passion and shattered the eardrums of his enemies with sound blasts. Then I lost interest. When he gained level 12, I actually angerly tossed the controller at my feet. This was going nowhere. I was bored and I had spent $60 on a game which no trader would accept because I had used the free month of subscription. I was screwed and felt like a retard because I had spent good money on a game that offered less play value than even Mafia Wars.

The fault with DC Universe is not in the mechanics of the game. The mechanics are fine. The problem was that I had played this game before. In 2007 I spent half a year immersed in City of Heroes, another MMO superhuman game. This game used the same MMO formula as World of WarCraft, easily the world's most successful MMO. I had also encountered the MMO formula in by brief forays into Champions Online (which is actually more fun than City of Heroes) and Lord of the Rings Online.

The formula goes like this: you create a hero. Then you run around attacking groups of eternally respawning enemies who have their names written in different colours to help you know if they're too tough. These mindless idiots stand around waiting to be attacked, despite the fact that their friends are being slaughtered ten feet away. Certain NPC characters can be seen standing around in central locations, offering quests. The quests are usually tasks like, "Defeat 20 mindless enemies" or "Click on five helpfully glowing boxes". Occasionally, you can recruit the help of your friends to beat up some mindless enemies, or you'll be minding your own business and then suddenly die when a Player Killer ambushes you.

However, the thing that truly annoys me about the MMO formula is that nothing is permanent. Despite the fact that numberless NPCs say stuff like, "Congratulations! You sure showed those orcs a thing or two" or "Excellent. Scarecrow is behind bars", your hero cannot truly influence his environment. Those orcs will always be respawning in the woods and Scarecrow's fear gas can always be seen floating above Gotham. Every box, sidewalk and building is indestructible and if you write your name on the wall with a machine-gun, it will vanish within 30 seconds.

In short, once the novelty of attacking mindless enemies and other PCs vanishes, all that is left is character advancement and development. This is no different than that catastrophe of a game, Mafia Wars. Experience points are a wonderful incentive to play a game, but levelling your character is not a game. The game should be how your character interacts with the environment and other players. If your character's effect on the environment is meaningless, so is the game.

So here is my decree. Until some game washes away the stagnant World of Warcraft MMO format, I will never play another. I want to see my avatar make meaningful change possible upon his world.

And yes, I know that with the current way MMOs are played, such a proposition would be impossible. Great mountains of defeated enemies thousands-deep would litter the forest. Troublemakers would wander around burning down buildings. Within a week, any City of Heroes would be reduced to a pile of scorched rubble, save for a few buildings which still stand, blasted into the shapes of penises.

Please allow me to describe the MMO I want to see. Not being a game designer, I have no idea if such a universe could exist under our current technology constraints. But here goes.

Nothing is randomly spawned in-game. Every NPC who lives there exists even when no PCs are around to see them. They have a place in the universe where they live and routines that they follow to survive and have fun. They have wants, needs and fears. In this way, every NPC is a potential quest-giver: he or she wants money, food, a place to live, the attentions of a loved one or vengeance on an enemy. Any PC who talks to one can hear them say, "God I'm hungry. Can you get me some food?" or "Mister Blister stole my purse! Teach him a lesson and I'll make it worth your while!" PCs should be allowed to create their own quests which any other PC can complete for reward. When every PC logs off, he leaves his character behind as an NPC with a place in the universe.

The universe should be a place of creation as well as destruction. In order to counterbalance the troublemakers who want to burn everything, PCs should be able to own property that they would want to protect. Using basic materials such as wood, stone, fabric and metal, players should be able to build and design structures, furniture and other posessions, kind of like Little Big Planet with a permanent address. Can you imagine how awesome it would be to publish a book on virtual paper in this universe?

The universe itself should be a story. If the actions of the players cause the destruction of the universe, then the universe will have to reset itself and everybody has to make new characters. If they don't like that, well maybe they should have worked a little harder to prevent disaster.

Lastly, it seems as though such a universe would have to be one in which death is rare, if non-existent. So either comic, high-magic or high-technology. But defeat should be meaningful and have consequences. Either a loss of XP or money or something should do the trick.

Because players can create, this game would necessarily have to be M-rated. When players are allowed to create, the cocks start appearing. The sex-obsessed masses of humanity will begin constructing giant dicks within a day of the game's launch, so there's yet another reason to have the universe be a comic place. Or, God! Even better, I'd love to see prudish players forming decency leagues in-game and destroying every penis they see!

Okay, this game is starting to sound like a sociology experiment. But don't the best games, like the best art, tap into humanity's embarassing nature? I'll stop my description here, other than to say that I would love to see an MMO based on GURPS Goblins. Those of you who know me well, however, will not be surprised and accuse me of indulging my Goblins obsession. Guilty as charged.

So. Anybody want to buy a copy of DC Universe Online off me? Anybody?... (crickets chirping...)

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

The Faceless Enemy

Since fiction has existed, hordes of incompetent foes have assailed heroes. These foes are a literary device which, at first, encourages audiences to fear villains by making them seem formidable. Then the foes get blown away and the secondary literary function is achieved: the hero looks very tough indeed. When these foes appear in a visual setting, such as theatre, comics, film or video games, these foes often have their faces shrouded or hidden. It's a tradition that I'd like to examine.

The Faceless Enemy has a long history. The earliest example I can remember with any clarity is the ninja. The famous shinobi shōzoku outfit that we all know, the all-black costume with the facemask, puffy pants and two-toed shoes, was very likely never used by actual ninja. Rather, it was a symbolic stage-convention of Japanese theatre that would allow audiences to easily identify a character as a ninja. It's a cool-looking costume that sticks in the viewer's mind. No wonder that it resonated over hundreds of years in Japanese culture and was copied by North American filmmakers in the 1970's. Many heroes have donned the awesome ninja garb, but when enemies do so, they are frequently very bad at their jobs.

Of course, the most famous Faceless Enemy these days is the Imperial Stormtrooper. For over thirty-five years, the Stormtrooper has been a pop-culture icon. However, we must not forget that the Imperial Stormtrooper was a dream inspired in George Lucas' mind by the Faceless Enemies that Flash Gordon and other cheapo-serial heroes fought in the early days of cinema.

In the world of video games, you will be playing an exeptional game if you AREN'T killing Faceless Enemies. From the masked-enemies of Borderlands to the shrouded reapers of Infamous to the balaclava-terrorists of Rainbow Six: Vegas 2, they are the industry standard. The reason for this is that it's just easier to program a certain number of enemies for the player to murder and if they don't have faces, it's less likely that the player will say, "Hey, didn't I kill that guy already?"

You get it. They're everywhere. But why? What is it about Faceless Enemies that we seem to like so much? Why do we like seeing them getting killed? It seems to make no intellectual sense. As a writer I am told over and over to fully-flesh my antagonists, yet fiction is rife with cartoon baddies Wilhelm-screaming and falling off roofs.

The enemy who has his face hidden is an enemy who has been dehumanized. Humans have instinctive reactions to seeing each other's faces. When the face is shrouded, those instincts are deadened.

This has two major effects. Fistly, for audiences, we cease to identify with the enemy. It just won't do for viewers to sympathetically exclaim, "Han Solo, you brute! That poor Stormtrooper! Did you think about his family when you blasted him?" This allows heroes to plow through hundreds of faceless foes, letting audiences worry only about the protagonist's peril.

The second major effect is a by-product of the first. When we have our sympathetic reactions to death impaired, it affects censors like the MPAA and the ESRB less. Dead Stormtroopers make for PG-ratings in theatres, at worst Teen ratings in video games. By putting a mask on your baddies, you are making your story available to millions of bloodthirsty children.

Okay, so that explains why creators select the Faceless Enemy. But why do audiences find them compelling? I've mentioned that the mask dehumanizes them, but with dehumanization also comes fear. The mask represents mystery and fear of the unknown. The emotions of a Faceless Enemy cannot be read except by body language, making their thoughts a mystery as well. With the identity hidden, the Faceless Enemy becomes a menacing stranger. Menacing strangers are a powerful human fear, as evidenced by the amount of media attention random murders, child-snatchers and serial killers receive. Lastly, when the Faceless Enemy serves a political entity such as an empire or terrorist group, he becomes a symbol of powerful conformity that has obliterated his identity, quietly whispering to the viewer, "This could happen to you, too."

In short, as a literary device, Faceless Enemies can inspire terror in the human heart. By including them as followers of your antagonist, (who should remain fully-fleshed), they significantly enhance his/her fear factor. Are you still worried about allowing poorly-fleshed characters into your work of fiction? Remember that the way to be a bore is to say everything. Unless that gas-masked Nazi is going to play a significant role in your plot, we don't want to know about him. We don't even want to know that his name is Hauptfeldwebel Helmut von Pickelhube. Just let your protagonist murder him and move on with the plot.

Believe it or not, this diatribe has real-life application. In his book, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society, Lt. Col. Dave Grossman showcases the innate human resistance to killing other humans. Apparently, before the Korean war, only about 15% of soldiers actively tried to shoot their enemies. The rest helped wounded comerades, reloaded weapons, cowered in fear, ran around shouting like idiots or fired their weapons over the enemys' heads. Generals like Carl von Clausewitz were confounded as to why, when a Prussian infantry formation fired a musket volley at a barn, all the shots hit, whereas when the same formation fired at an advancing line of tightly-packed infantry, only one or two enemies dropped. The closer you get to your enemy, the harder it is to overcome the urge not to kill him. A pilot can easily fire a torpedo at a battleship and sink it, killing who-knows-how-many soldiers, but the same man may freeze and be unable to bayonet one enemy in close-combat.

Modern training and drilling techniques have been introduced to overcome the resistance to kill. It also helps to have a superior officer yelling at you to kill. The American military also makes extensive use explosives and snipers, which kill at a distance rather than forcing up-close confrontation.

But by far the most time-honoured tradition of getting soldiers to kill is the art of dehumanization. From the made-up stories of the barbarious Hun mutilating innocent Belgians in World War I to the bullshit story about Iraqis tossing babies out of incubators, governments have been using real and fake propeganda to encourage soldiers to kill. If a soldier can view the enemy as degenerate subhumans, he/she can pull the trigger with more ease.

So here's the point of all this. Many special forces, SWAT teams and guerillas purposefully hide or cover their faces when they go into combat. Sometimes it's a balaclava meant to hide the wearer's identity. Sometimes it's facepaint to assist camouflage. Sometimes it's infrared goggles. Sometimes it's a gas mask to protect against airborne toxins.

Considering what Dave Grossman has to say and how audiences react to fictional Faceless Enemies, it might be worth examining the wisdom of hiding the face. Camouflage, anonymity, night vision and protection from chemicals have their uses. But by hiding the face, these soldiers and police are dehumanizing themselves and becoming more attractive targets. In situations where the enemy has no modern military training, this is especially important. An untrained fighter is more likely to shoot a menacing mask than a real person with a human face.

If this is something that soldiers and commanders consider before they enter combat, that's good. I'm glad to hear it. But otherwise, it's something to think about. Obviously there will be other tactical considerations in any engagement, but if I were a soldier (and I'm not), I'd think twice about putting on that balaclava.

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

Review of "Snow Crash" by Neal Stephenson

Snow Crash is a novel by Neal Stephenson. The story follows two characters, Hiro Protagonist, a down-and-out computer hacker working as a pizza deliverator, and Y.T., a teenage girl who works as a courier. They join forces to battle the creators of an intellectual virus in a capitalist dystopia. Published in 1992, it predicted many computer-based phenomena and coined several terms.

It surprises me that it took me this long to pick it up. Snow Crash is highly regarded in the geek community and I have received several recommendations. I recall that Pyramid Magazine, normally strictly a gaming magazine, was so enamoured of this book in the 90's that they dedicated several pages to reprint a selection. I had very high expectations when I opened it. No, it is not the godlike masterpiece that I had expected, but it was still quite good.

Stephenson's strength is his prose. There is a memorable, clever metaphor or simile on practically every page. The first chapter, in particular, is perfect. It is perfectly exciting. It is a perfect introduction to Stephenson's dystopia. It is perfectly clever. The first chapter is a godlike masterpiece and it's a shame that the rest of the book is merely very good. But the book can hardly be faulted for not being able to measure up to itself. Can it?

The universe itself is fascinating. It is a computerized version of Reaganomics, down to the fact that the insanely-inflated bills have pictures of his cabinet members on them. The US government has essentially vanished, leaving North America in the grip of powerful corporations and the Mafia. Beneath this chaotic capitalist free-for-all is a virtual reality universe called the Metaverse. The Metaverse is kind of like what might happen if Second Life took over the entire internet: a place where each person who logs on has an "avatar" (a term invented by Stephenson, I believe), can access programs and own virtual real estate. It is fascinating to watch the characters navigate through this mess of a universe, which is ripe for adventure.

I mentioned that this book is good but not godlike. The exposition drags it down. Entire chapters of this book are devoted to Hiro talking to a computer-librarian about ancient Sumer, Enki and Asherah. How many chapters? A conservative guess is four. These chapters are a flagrant violation of "show, don't tell" and really do go on and on. Snow Crash experiences a disappointing lull about half-way through in which Hiro and the Librarian blab at each other. Frankly, during this lull I began to think about reading other books and wondering if I should bother finishing Snow Crash. It's not that these chapters aren't interesting and fascinating in their own right, but they are too much of a good thing.

Thankfully, Hiro eventually pulls himself out of the virtual library and starts doing things again. From there the story returns to its former quality. The ending is quite satisfying.

Snow Crash is prophetic in the number of technologies and terms it coined or anticipated, and is a great read besides. Don't be like me and put off reading it for years.
4 bimbo boxes out of 5

The Moral Responsibilities of Storytelling

I once had a fascinating discussion with a friend. We were talking about the effect of movies and television upon society. His point was that modern entertainment has an evil effect. People see evil things acted out upon their screens and imitate them. He believed there was a case for the viewpoint that the images we see in our entertainment need to be controlled for the good of society. I asked him if he was playing devil's advocate and he insisted he wasn't. It was a conversation that haunted me for years afterward.

This idea returned while I was reading An Arsonist's Guide to Writer's Homes in New England. In it, a judge considers the idea of good stories and morality. He asks, if a story compels somebody to do something terrible, can it be said to be a "good" story? Is it to be tolerated or legislated? Entertainment as societal evil is an idea rampant in our society. The effect of entertainment, especially the young, has been under media scrutiny at least since the 80's, when parents of suicidal teens claimed that heavy metal music was responsible for their children's deaths. It returned with renewed force ten years ago when violent video games like Doom were proclaimed to be partially responsible for the actions of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold when they murdered twelve students and each other at Columbine High School in 1999.

But the question is older than the 1980s, older than television and radio. It is present wherever stories are told. Consider the case of Swift Runner, a plains cree who succumbed to Wendigo psychosis in the winter of 1878. He butchered his family, hung their corpses from trees and ate them. Before he was executed, he claimed he was a Witiko. The legend of Witiko (Wendigo or Windigo), the evil spirit who possesses humans and makes them cannibals, was a part of his upbringing. If he had never heard the stories of Witiko, surely Swift Runner would never have killed and eaten his family.

Arguments are always strengthened by science, of course. What does science have to say? Much of the data are contradictory, but many studies, such as this one indicate that seeing fictional depictions of suicides on screen results in a significant jump in real-world suicides through imitation. There are many other scientific examples and many other evils.

This is what disturbed me about the conversation I had with my friend. Here I was, pursuing a career as a storyteller, whether on screen or the written page, and suddenly I was burdened with a new responsibility. Something that I lovingly craft for the enjoyment of others could result in violence, a murder or suicide. If something I wrote inspired even one murder anywhere in the world, how could I live with that? I tried to justify my career by merely ignoring the problem and denying what I had heard, but it didn't work. It made me sick and not want to write anymore. Either that or commit myself to writing stories about pixies leaping from toadstool to toadstool, drinking snapdragon nectar and being friends with each other.

If you too are a storyteller, take heart. Here's how I felt better about myself. As I pondered the morality of storytelling, I remembered that the interpretation of art is done by its audience. If a story has unforseen negative societal consequences, surely it must have unforseen positive consequences as well. For every teen who commits suicide because he imitated a fictional depiction, how many people who saw the same depiction were pushed from the brink of suicide by what they saw or were inspired to commit some act of kindness that saved somebody's life? For every evil your story inflicts upon the world, it is surely balanced by strengthening of spirits and kindly acts that the media rarely report upon.

Is this merely fanciful rationalization to make me feel better about myself? At its emotional core, yes. But check out this study, which shows the effect of fictional suicides on non-suicidal people. It shows a short-term increase in depression and tension, followed by a lasting increase in self-esteem and happiness. The rate of suicide also drops. Good enough for me.

Further, I believe the people who imitate the violence in stories are troubled individuals before they are inspired. They are primed explosives and any event or story may inspire them to violence. I believe that if Eric Harris, Dylan Kelbold and Swift Runner only had stories of merry pixies hopping about on toadstools to entertain them, they would probably have murdered people by drowning them in snapdragon nectar.

But this is not to say that I, as a storyteller, do not have a moral responsibility to society. While I cannot be held responsible for the ways in which my art is interpreted by individuals, there is still the matter of my intent. Every story or object d'arte should have a message or a moral. When I create, I always have a message in mind. I hide the moral so as not to be preachy, but it's there. It is my responsibily to live with the consequences of THOSE morals. If I craft a story that I feel advocates teen suicide when confronted with parental control, I must be prepared to deal with suicides that result. In this case, I'm not prepared, so I would never write that story.

And, as an artist, it is never too late to disavow an interpretation or even the moral of your own story if you change your mind. For instance, Radiohead reportedly became alarmed when they performed their song "Prove Yourself" and heard their teenage audience singing the lyric, "I'm better off dead". It was removed from their concert playlist.

What about artists who advocate evil stuff? If a storyteller purposefully embeds a violent message within a tale which inspires acts of brutality, should the storyteller be held legally responsible? Is it even possible?

It would be disastrous. There are few ways for the legal system to discern harmful intent from an unintended interpretation. It would require mind-reading and thought-policing. It's a recipe for witch-hunts and the punishment of innocent artists. It's best for the legal system to make the perpetrators of evil acts responsible for their actions and leave their artistic inspirations out of the equation. For now artists who advocate violence, rape and suicide are safe from the legal system. But that doesn't mean they're safe from their own consciences. If they have no consciences, that still leaves them vulnerable to societal criticism and WalMart and Blockbuster pulling their products off the shelves. I'm okay with that.

Lastly, there is a final aspect of the morality of storytelling to consider. I have often heard a criticism of modern entertainment which equates it with tranquilizer. It is usually levelled at television, film and video games. It goes something like this: modern entertainment keeps people at home, glued to their sets, forgetting about problems in the world, instead involving them in fictional conflicts. People forget about real problems facing the world, which allows the military-industrial complex, which controls the entertainment industry, to continue carrying out their corrupt political outrages worldwide.

Should this be a moral concern for storytellers? Bah, I say. Do people who argue this idea believe that if every single monitor, television and movie screen on earth vanished, the population would morph into brooding revolutionaries and democracy would be restored? If television disappeared, we would soon be hearing about how books are keeping people in the home, tranquilized. The vanishing of books would not work either: we would soon be hearing about sell-out corporate storytellers seducing us by the campfire.

Storytelling is escapism. But it is not forced upon us by fatcats. As humans we seek stories because we love them. Maybe we need them. They are a part of human evolution and have been with us before the written word, shaping our worldview for tens of thousands of years. Yes, it sometimes inspires madmen to murder and the depressed to kill themselves. But it also has spread knowledge, morals and happiness throughout the world. It has inspired countless selfless and kindly acts. It is one of humanity's most complicated and wonderful creations.

So follow your passion without moral hesitation, you creators. To entertain is truly noble.

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

Review of Red Dead Redemption

It's brilliant. It's art. It's an epic. It's the best sandbox game ever. It's Red Dead Redemption.

It's 1911. The freedoms of the old West are dying, replaced by civilization, technology and big government. The trails of cowboys and outlaws are vanishing under rail ties and the wheels of automobiles.

Two government agents in bowler hats escort a scarred and hardened man aboard a westbound train. The man is John Marston, a former outlaw who tried to leave his life behind and raise a family. But the federal government now holds his family hostage, threatening to kill them if John doesn't track down his former gang-mates. So John must face his dark former-life in order to save his wife and son.

Video games do not normally move me to write reviews, but this game is different. Aspects of it are not entirely original. One could easily describe it as "Grand Theft Auto in the Old West". But it's more than that. What makes it different is the love. For it is love that separates great games from the crap. Red Dead Redemption has more love than ANY video game I have ever played.

For example, the first thing I said when I saw it was, "Oh my God, look at the trees!" Yes, the trees are beautiful. The water looks beautiful. The care and attention to detail is astounding. For further example, if John is walking by the river past sundown, one can hear the sound of night insects and frogs. But here's the shocking part. If you make John fire his gun by said river, the sound echoes and the night noises stop, then gradually return. Some developer thought this little audio detail was important enough to add. The game is full of details like this and it makes the experience magical.

The main plot is involving and interesting. Each new mission left me yearning to "do just one more". However, the side plots are a tad predictable and usually involve discovering that somebody or something is dead, or perhaps somebody not discovering treasure. That in itself is not so bad, as it goes toward establishing the game's atmosphere of madness and desperation.

The weapons are awesome! Marston has at his disposal a variety of weapons from then-new bolt-action rifles and Luger pistols to old guns from the American Civil War. I was at a first confused as to why old civil war weapons were included, but then I recalled how many modern shooters include the AK-47, which is about as old for us as the LeMat Revolver would be for John Marston. Maybe I'm just sentimental, but it's somehow more classy to blow open somebody's skull with a classic Spencer Carbine than with a vulgar modern FAMAS or Steyr AUG.

I actually really enjoyed hunting. Yes, the hunting is pretty fanciful and unrealistic. The countryside teems with wildlife and one can sell buzzard feathers for $5 each, which would be an amazing buying price today, but in 1911 money that's the equivalent of $116! John can also carry seventeen grizzly bear hides on his person without breaking a sweat, or indeed, smothering. However, there's something very freeing about wandering about the countryside butchering everything in sight.


The bad: many of the cliches I previously blogged about are present: tickling bullets, proactive bullets, magic head shots, me-time, extremely nutritious food and exploding fucking barrels are present. That's six of my least favourite video game cliches out of ten. Boo!


I have now gained a 100% completion rating for this game. All the missions are done after about thirty hours of gameplay. The stats say I have killed 1200 people, which is typical for a Rockstar game. However, the fun is not over. I am having a blast in multiplayer. Also, I am enjoying collecting PS3 trophies, something I have never previously cared about. For instance, I recently collected the "Dastardly" trophy, which I earned by hogtying a woman and laying her on the railroad tracks in front of an advancing train. More fun awaits in the future, as Rockstar Games recently announced downloadable content: online poker and liar's dice, more game modes and even a supernatural expansion with ghost towns and zombies. Squee!

My friends, games like this are rare and special. I'm sure in the future, the graphics and gameplay will seem laughable, but for now it's here to be enjoyed and it's almost perfect. If you have a PS3, go buy it so we can posse up and kill some saps!
5 anti-government rants out of 5

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/

Ten Video Game Cliches that must be sent to Hell

The human brain loves to categorize things. It's a survival instinct. When we see certain things happen multiple times, we file them with a little mental card on what to expect in that situation and how to behave next time. For instance, primitive man learned quickly that things that mastodons stand upon get squished, therefore one ought not to get trampled. An expectation is established, the brain reacts, and hopefully the next time that event happens, the human involved will profit from it or at least not get squished/burned/killed/humiliated/cheated. The establishing of expectations is integral to scientific method. It's worked out pretty well for us.


When it comes to human expression and art, we still love our expectations. They're comforting. Art is all about playing with what people find familiar and knowing when to surprise them. Too much surprise and the work is confusing, too much predictability and it's boring. And, believe it or not, video games are Art. They're getting more artsy all the time.

Video games have their own array of symbols. For instance, for the PlayStation systems, X means "yes" or "go ahead", Circle means "no" or "go back", and one can usually expect that R1 or R2 is going to fire a weapon. The symbols go beyond the controller. For instance, it is universally understood that the red bar near the top or bottom of the screen getting shorter means that the character representing the player is getting hurt. The symbolism also expands to what the character can meet in the environment. For instance, all gamers can recognize a glowing green lake as something not to touch.

However, sometimes symbols and expectations become tiresome. The following list is a compilation of cliches that are unrealistic but gamers take for granted. Many concepts have already been junked, for instance "lives". Many more need to be retired. First-person shooters are particularly bad for perpetuating this bullshit, but all genres are guilty. Burn them, destroy them, send them all to hell.

The Double Jump: For many years, action video game characters have been able to jump, then leap even higher using mere air as a springboard. Seriously. What the fuck? Why did this get started? Why does it keep getting programmed over and over again? Sure, I could see a ninja doing it. He's magic. And I can understand Mr. Starkiller of the Force Unleashed being able to do it. He has the Force. But Captain America? Leisure Suit Larry? I thought the video game industry was supposed to be creative.

The Lamethrower: In videogameland the flamethrower is a short-range weapon used to quickly roast enemies a few feet away. News Flash: in real-life, flamethrowers can scorch targets 100 feet away. They're also really heavy and make you move slowly. Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uE9XEXClDGo&NR=1

Tickling Bullets: Top-end ranged weapons in video games are missile launchers and energy blasters that melt everything within sight. However, characters rarely start play with them. They must be earned or scavenged. Most players spawn or begin their adventure with a lowly pistol, assault rifle or machine-gun. As these weapons are at the bottom of the firepower food chain, they have to suck a little to encourage players to grab something different. The result is ludicrous situations where players empty their clips into each other, reload and keep firing. This might make sense in ultra-tech armour, but I've often seen futuristic warriors with bare muscles bulging taking bullets like Rasputin. If people could take bullets like they do in video games, World War I would have been very different. Tickling bullets are often paired with three sub-cliches, listed below:
The oddly realistic knife: In a world where getting shot is similar to being pelted with rocks, why does it make sense that when you get clubbed by a rifle butt or stabbed you die instantly?
The Sneak Attack Critical: I think we have Dungeons & Dragons to thank for this little rule. My friends, getting hit by a bullet hurts just as much if it comes out of the blue as if you were expecting it. Yet your hapless video game foes will die instantly if they didn't see you hiding there. Sometimes it sucks to be a bad guy.
Magic Head Shots: Spray a guy with bullets and he doesn't flinch, but if one of those bullets hits his head, it's all over. Why? WHY WHY WHY? Yes, getting shot in the brain is lethal. But so is getting shot in the heart, kidneys, upper spine, carotid artery and femoral artery. It's also worth noting that your head is not all brain: there's plenty of face and jaw that should be able to sustain tickling. All I ask for is consistency!

Proactive bullets: Uh-oh... you've reloaded your submachine-gun compulsively after every burst. Surely you've run out of full clips. Surprise! The rest of your 251 bullets have magically re-assembled themselves into perfectly sized clips! What a relief!

Blind, Deaf, Anosmic, Retarded Guards: It is a well-known saying in the military that if you can see the enemy, the enemy can see you. This is not so in any video game which incorporates stealth as a part of gameplay. In such games guards stroll about while the player flits in and out of lightly shaded areas or through their peripheral vision, occasionally saying stuff like, "What was that? Probably nothing." Every guard becomes near-sighted. The sounds of footsteps, silenced weapons and knives and bullets whizzing past their heads and hitting the wall make no impression. Yet if something interesting like a rice-ball or windup toy is tossed in their general direction, their senses sharpen just long enough to notice the distraction and turn their backs to the player, backs which usually end up with swords in them a few seconds later. Often they tread over the bloody corpses of their buddies without making any connections. It's actually worse in many MMORPGs, where baddies stand around waiting to be aggro'd while their friends are being slaughtered ten feet away.

Extremely Nutritious Food: Food is good. It's full of vitamins, minerals, protein and fibre. Eating is therapeutic. However, I've yet to come across a turkey dinner that seals bullet wounds.


Me-Time: Yeah, I have bad days. Sometimes I wish I could just hide from the world. I curl up in bed with a book for an afternoon and feel better by evening. The same thing happens whenever I get shot. I just hide behind some boxes for about six seconds, my vision clears up and I'm good as new.

Hop to Victory! Less-seen nowadays, but still present. Basically, players jump up and down as they run across the battlefield to avoid getting shot. My God, why isn't hopping a part of basic training for all modern militaries? Think of the lives that could be saved! Seriously, nobody hops in battle, people. Designers, if you want to prevent hopping, just make it realistic: it's very energy intensive, most people can't hop six feet in the air, nobody can change direction mid-jump and there are no guarantees you'll land perfectly. Or better yet, does your game really need a jump key?

Lazy Water: Movement is a tricky issue in video games. Nobody likes moving slowly. It's boring. That's why most video game characters run everywhere. However, water always presents a poser. Realistically, wading in even two feet of water makes you move slower than even walking. Most game designers just ignore this. Characters either charge through waist-deep water at running speed or swim faster than Michael Phelps. Or, the ultimate in laziness, water = instant death. This isn't the only indignity water has suffered. Most video-game water is poorly rendered and has no love. It's always an afterthought. Water must have it's due!

And finally, the winner (or loser):

The Exploding Fucking Barrel: From the first moment I shot an exploding barrel next to an imp in Doom, I knew I loved her. The creature's flesh melted so exquisitely. And then there were the chain-reactions: hundreds of exploding barrels setting the battlefield aflame! O exploding barrel, I loved you. But you have to go. You had a good run, old girl, but now it's time for the glue factory. Get in the truck.

In conclusion, you video game designers, stop being so lazy. These cliches are beyond lame. They blow mummified goats. By including them in your video game, you are making your game blow mummified goats. So get your creativity flowing and try to think of original, fun ideas that don't defy physics or common sense. Please?

http://pharoahphobia.blogspot.com/