I think this needs to be stated outside of my earlier post about Activizzard and StarCraft 2. Let's face it, as gamers, gaming companies have us by the balls. They create the games that we want to play, we buy them and that's it. They dictate the rules, the code of conduct and the fashion in which it is to be played and, outside of official patches and unofficial fan creations, the game more or less stays the same. And they always will have the same formula.
We may, as gamers and internet users, sit idly in front of glowing screens and rant about the things that are important to us - this is the only power we have to change ANYTHING. This is important to note. The only way things get changed is by speaking out - whether this be as a protest on the street or a well-meaning blogpost to and about the right people or thing.
What will NOT get things changed is flame wars. We need to be more eloquent with our anger, explaining WHY this kind of things simply won't do anymore. More eloquent than, "yur a fag lolz" and "this is fucking shit, ffffffuuuuuuuu blizzard!11!!!" These outbursts of nonsensical jabbery won't get you anywhere. In fact, they will set back the cause.
The world already sees gamers as ineloquent, infantile, useless leeches of human decency, and when I look at some of the bastards on forums and MMORPGs, it's hard to not agree - sometimes. Most of the time, however, when you have people like my friends or Husky and HD and the professional players they host in their StarCraft tournaments, or just that one nice guy in World of Warcraft who helped you find your way to Orgrimmar rather than shouting at the top of his virtual lungs, "NOOB FAG! ORGRIMMAR IS EASY TO FIND LOL".
Gamers are, actually, intelligent and thoughtful folk but they are often the quieter ones. The louder gamers, the ones Jack Thompson and the angry media latch on to like leeches at a blood party, are the ones who do not represent us. I don't know if I can stress any of that enough. If we want gaming companies to take us seriously when we ask for change, we need to do so not only en masse, but eloquently and thoughtfully. Then, and only then, will they take what we have to say seriously alongside their educated and competent game designers. Mahalo.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Continued Adventures of Capt. Horatio Adventure
Ok, so that's not really the title up there, but it looks good for now. This is a continuation of the story I started before - does it not intrigue you?!
After the air ship landed at port, Horatio disembarked at pace and hurried down to the corner of Victoria and Tesla Avenue. The place where he was staying was on the other side of town and so Horatio made the quick decision to merely drop by the tailor, drop a bag of money and say, "New suit. Now!" This he knew, of course, would work quite well with his old tailor, Terrance, and prayed it would work the same miracle on any other staff that he might have hired in the intervening period that passed since Horatio's last trip to London.
Clacking with speed down the cobblestone pathway, making careful not to get in the way of any animatronic devices, Horation landed himself quickly at the tailor and, with huff in his breath, uttered, "New suit. Now!" at what he realized was a rather shocking absense of anyone.
He tapped the service bell repeatedly and with vigour until a small, moustachioed, top-hatted man emerged from behind a rouge curtain, "Ah, Terrance, seems you haven't changed at all, though service seems to have slacked."
"Bite your tongue," Terrance said, climbing onto a stool behind the counter to better see Horatio, "I'm still busy when you're not in town, you know."
"Yes, yes," Horatio laughed, "but if I may repeat with the utmost of coherence," he said, clearing his throat, "New suit. Now!"
"I heard you the first time," Terrance said, dismounting his stool, "and I have just the suit for you." Quick as a clockwork gear, Terrance disappeared behind the rouge curtain again, reemerging with a brown, pinstripe, three piece suit, "Yes?"
"Yes," Horatio said, looking the suit up and down, "That'll do nicely."
When he was finished dressing and handing over a bag of coin to Terrance, Horatio was about to leave, but he turned back to Terrance, "How is life in London still?"
"Well," Terrance said, lifting his eyes from the gold coins, "not all that different, not all the same."
"Cryptic, as usual."
"Let's just say some things have changed and some things have not."
"That's pretty much the same statement."
"Life keeps me busy, but I am kept busier by new developments."
"I don't---"
"I'm sorry, Horatio," Terrance said, walking towards the curtain leading to the back of his shop, "as good as it is to see you - and believe me, it is in these troubled times - I'm going to have to ask you to go." And with that, swept behind the curtain.
Though he stared after him for some minutes, Horatio knew he had to be somewhere else and moved off at pace to his meeting. His acquaintance did not like all that much to be kept waiting.
After the air ship landed at port, Horatio disembarked at pace and hurried down to the corner of Victoria and Tesla Avenue. The place where he was staying was on the other side of town and so Horatio made the quick decision to merely drop by the tailor, drop a bag of money and say, "New suit. Now!" This he knew, of course, would work quite well with his old tailor, Terrance, and prayed it would work the same miracle on any other staff that he might have hired in the intervening period that passed since Horatio's last trip to London.
Clacking with speed down the cobblestone pathway, making careful not to get in the way of any animatronic devices, Horation landed himself quickly at the tailor and, with huff in his breath, uttered, "New suit. Now!" at what he realized was a rather shocking absense of anyone.
He tapped the service bell repeatedly and with vigour until a small, moustachioed, top-hatted man emerged from behind a rouge curtain, "Ah, Terrance, seems you haven't changed at all, though service seems to have slacked."
"Bite your tongue," Terrance said, climbing onto a stool behind the counter to better see Horatio, "I'm still busy when you're not in town, you know."
"Yes, yes," Horatio laughed, "but if I may repeat with the utmost of coherence," he said, clearing his throat, "New suit. Now!"
"I heard you the first time," Terrance said, dismounting his stool, "and I have just the suit for you." Quick as a clockwork gear, Terrance disappeared behind the rouge curtain again, reemerging with a brown, pinstripe, three piece suit, "Yes?"
"Yes," Horatio said, looking the suit up and down, "That'll do nicely."
When he was finished dressing and handing over a bag of coin to Terrance, Horatio was about to leave, but he turned back to Terrance, "How is life in London still?"
"Well," Terrance said, lifting his eyes from the gold coins, "not all that different, not all the same."
"Cryptic, as usual."
"Let's just say some things have changed and some things have not."
"That's pretty much the same statement."
"Life keeps me busy, but I am kept busier by new developments."
"I don't---"
"I'm sorry, Horatio," Terrance said, walking towards the curtain leading to the back of his shop, "as good as it is to see you - and believe me, it is in these troubled times - I'm going to have to ask you to go." And with that, swept behind the curtain.
Though he stared after him for some minutes, Horatio knew he had to be somewhere else and moved off at pace to his meeting. His acquaintance did not like all that much to be kept waiting.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
The Uphill Battle
I've avoided this for long enough, I think. Normally I don't complain all that much here and just stick to personal writing and reviewing, but I cannot simply stand by anymore. As those who know me know, I am an avid and long-time gamer - I will happily admit that I like all sorts of computer, console and tabletop games. But it seems remaining a gamer in the new market is becoming more and more difficult, with certain gaming companies taking what can be seen as an anti-gamer stance, or more specifically, non-loyalty to their long-time gamers. I'm looking at you Blizzard/Activion...Bliztivision...Activizzard. Whatever.
My first and foremost complaint comes with the release of the long awaited and anticipated (for seriously over a decade) game of StarCraft 2. I, like most other gamers, loved and continue to love StarCraft 1 and still play it, enjoying it's more or less perfection of the RTS (real-time strategy) gaming model. Not only that, but you were guaranteed to be able to play with your friends whenever you wanted. After Blizzard merged with Activision, it seems to have turned its back on us ever-trusting fools and royally flipped us the bird.
One of the top priorities of an RTS (or what SHOULD be a top priority of an RTS) is multiplayability. That is, playing with more people other than yourself, whether in the same room, house or country. StarCraft 1 had LAN support which allowed computers, connected in the same house or room via wireless or direct-cable connection, to play in the same game with one another without having to be connected to the internet. One benefit of this is the epic fun that all gamers know, known as LAN Parties. You and your friends bring your computers and play a lot of games together, simple as that.
Blizzard (or, more accurately I believe, Activision) has made the direct and forceful choice to remove LAN capabilities from StarCraft 2 for good. That's it. Period. The reason given by Activision CEO Bobby Kotick, is that they want to give a gaming experience so good, that people "won't even want to have LAN parties". I'm sorry, what? Have you ever PLAYED games? That's one of the benefits of being a gamer! Here is H-to-the-usky-Husky talking about all these issues in a video accompanied by kittens. I know it's 25 minutes, but if you're interested in the issue, it's worthwhile.
But "Ah," I hear you cry, "surely without this, you can still play online?" Of course, but another thing being removed is the chat and unique game names from the new Battle.Net service - the online multiplayer system for Blizzard games. This makes not only chatting with your friends difficult, but organizing games with your friends a huge pain. With no unique game names, how are we to know which "4v4 [Map Name] Melee" are we supposed to join? There will be hundreds!
Ah but wait, maybe there won't be. In the old Battle.Net system, you could choose which region to play in (Asia, US East, US West and Europe) and could therefore meet a whole bunch of new people. No longer! Your StarCraft region will now be chosen for you depending on the address given in your Battle.Net account - say goodbye to all those friends you made in StarCraft 1, you won't be able t play with them anymore unless you falsify your address, or buy multiple copies of the game - something which I'm sure Activision's CEO would love.
Another rumour circulating the web is that the previously free service of Battle.Net will now become a 'pay by the month' service similar to Xbox Live. This will definitely make being a gamer even harder, and once more limiting the scope of the multiplayability of a multiplayer game!
What strikes me most, out of all of this, is that Blizzard have always been a gamer-loyal company, always releasing top-quality games that are loved by all - what gamer doesn't have fond memories of Diablo, StarCraft, Warcraft or WoW at SOME point? All these games are great and, despite the fact that they often took FOREVER to be released, they did so because it was to make the game better, to make sure it was perfect. It seems to me that now they are releasing an unfinished, sub-par sequel. Despite the decade-long wait for a game which looks in Beta to be possibly one of the most fun RTSs of all time, I could wait a little longer for them to get this baby right.
What is frustrating is that, through all of this, I know I will still buy it - hell, I preordered it. I WANT to play that game. Desperately. And Activizzard knows that. They know we gamers will fork out the necessary money to play the games we want to play, even in spite of all their glaring flaws. And that goes double - if not triple - for StarCraft 2. The only way we can get things to change is if we stand up and say, "Hell no, no more, we aren't buying your games unless they are done right and are made loyally for your fans". But, unfortunately, I cannot see that coming.
My first and foremost complaint comes with the release of the long awaited and anticipated (for seriously over a decade) game of StarCraft 2. I, like most other gamers, loved and continue to love StarCraft 1 and still play it, enjoying it's more or less perfection of the RTS (real-time strategy) gaming model. Not only that, but you were guaranteed to be able to play with your friends whenever you wanted. After Blizzard merged with Activision, it seems to have turned its back on us ever-trusting fools and royally flipped us the bird.
One of the top priorities of an RTS (or what SHOULD be a top priority of an RTS) is multiplayability. That is, playing with more people other than yourself, whether in the same room, house or country. StarCraft 1 had LAN support which allowed computers, connected in the same house or room via wireless or direct-cable connection, to play in the same game with one another without having to be connected to the internet. One benefit of this is the epic fun that all gamers know, known as LAN Parties. You and your friends bring your computers and play a lot of games together, simple as that.
Blizzard (or, more accurately I believe, Activision) has made the direct and forceful choice to remove LAN capabilities from StarCraft 2 for good. That's it. Period. The reason given by Activision CEO Bobby Kotick, is that they want to give a gaming experience so good, that people "won't even want to have LAN parties". I'm sorry, what? Have you ever PLAYED games? That's one of the benefits of being a gamer! Here is H-to-the-usky-Husky talking about all these issues in a video accompanied by kittens. I know it's 25 minutes, but if you're interested in the issue, it's worthwhile.
But "Ah," I hear you cry, "surely without this, you can still play online?" Of course, but another thing being removed is the chat and unique game names from the new Battle.Net service - the online multiplayer system for Blizzard games. This makes not only chatting with your friends difficult, but organizing games with your friends a huge pain. With no unique game names, how are we to know which "4v4 [Map Name] Melee" are we supposed to join? There will be hundreds!
Ah but wait, maybe there won't be. In the old Battle.Net system, you could choose which region to play in (Asia, US East, US West and Europe) and could therefore meet a whole bunch of new people. No longer! Your StarCraft region will now be chosen for you depending on the address given in your Battle.Net account - say goodbye to all those friends you made in StarCraft 1, you won't be able t play with them anymore unless you falsify your address, or buy multiple copies of the game - something which I'm sure Activision's CEO would love.
Another rumour circulating the web is that the previously free service of Battle.Net will now become a 'pay by the month' service similar to Xbox Live. This will definitely make being a gamer even harder, and once more limiting the scope of the multiplayability of a multiplayer game!
What strikes me most, out of all of this, is that Blizzard have always been a gamer-loyal company, always releasing top-quality games that are loved by all - what gamer doesn't have fond memories of Diablo, StarCraft, Warcraft or WoW at SOME point? All these games are great and, despite the fact that they often took FOREVER to be released, they did so because it was to make the game better, to make sure it was perfect. It seems to me that now they are releasing an unfinished, sub-par sequel. Despite the decade-long wait for a game which looks in Beta to be possibly one of the most fun RTSs of all time, I could wait a little longer for them to get this baby right.
What is frustrating is that, through all of this, I know I will still buy it - hell, I preordered it. I WANT to play that game. Desperately. And Activizzard knows that. They know we gamers will fork out the necessary money to play the games we want to play, even in spite of all their glaring flaws. And that goes double - if not triple - for StarCraft 2. The only way we can get things to change is if we stand up and say, "Hell no, no more, we aren't buying your games unless they are done right and are made loyally for your fans". But, unfortunately, I cannot see that coming.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Dream: Zombie Apocalypse
Before you ask, yes, I have REALLY messed up dreams:
We - who is we? a large group of us for sure - are on the top (8th) level of a business building - it's definitely offices, not apartments. We are survivors - there are maybe 15 of us? I am in the elevator - it is my turn to scout the lower levels to make sure there are fewer zombies. I go down in the lift but it speeds down and then shifts to the side, as if along a train track, the doors open. I see many zombies around. I am holding a lead pipe, but there are many of them - I can FEEL in my GUT that I'm doomed. They crowd in, but they're not like normal zombies - they just look like people with blood on their faces - I can feel, I know they're smart - smart like people. They crowd in, I am beating at them, but I am bitten. Now, inside my head, being a zombie isn't so bad - I'm part of some kind of collective of greater people. "Why wouldn't you want to be one of us? Get the others." "yeah, this isn't so bad". I go upstairs in the lift with three other zombies, but we're pressing level 3 on the lift - is this where we started? - and I am able to mask that I am a zombie - I have special vision, it goes black and the people have yellow outlines and I can identify other zombies, who are thick yellow blocks shaped like people. One approaches and says he'll take care of Raymond (?) and I should take this woman - a woman I do not know - but I love, and she loves me. She lets me bite her neck, bite the flesh off, there is blood, I can feel myself chewing chewing chewing the flesh off her neck. She is saying that she loves me, she is laughing, smiling, loving this, and as I eat off her flesh, her face is peeling off - now she is a zombie and I lift the flesh back onto her face, it has the texture of gauze.
Now I am no longer a zombie - am I someone else? I have a length of pipe again and am with three others in the lift going down to fight off the zombies - who are not only smart, but fast I now remember - they crowd inwards and I am beating at them with the pipe, everyone is beating at them, but I am bitten on the arm. We're back upstairs and we're all sitting around - the feeling of dread, doom and bitterness in us. I wake up, sweating.
We - who is we? a large group of us for sure - are on the top (8th) level of a business building - it's definitely offices, not apartments. We are survivors - there are maybe 15 of us? I am in the elevator - it is my turn to scout the lower levels to make sure there are fewer zombies. I go down in the lift but it speeds down and then shifts to the side, as if along a train track, the doors open. I see many zombies around. I am holding a lead pipe, but there are many of them - I can FEEL in my GUT that I'm doomed. They crowd in, but they're not like normal zombies - they just look like people with blood on their faces - I can feel, I know they're smart - smart like people. They crowd in, I am beating at them, but I am bitten. Now, inside my head, being a zombie isn't so bad - I'm part of some kind of collective of greater people. "Why wouldn't you want to be one of us? Get the others." "yeah, this isn't so bad". I go upstairs in the lift with three other zombies, but we're pressing level 3 on the lift - is this where we started? - and I am able to mask that I am a zombie - I have special vision, it goes black and the people have yellow outlines and I can identify other zombies, who are thick yellow blocks shaped like people. One approaches and says he'll take care of Raymond (?) and I should take this woman - a woman I do not know - but I love, and she loves me. She lets me bite her neck, bite the flesh off, there is blood, I can feel myself chewing chewing chewing the flesh off her neck. She is saying that she loves me, she is laughing, smiling, loving this, and as I eat off her flesh, her face is peeling off - now she is a zombie and I lift the flesh back onto her face, it has the texture of gauze.
Now I am no longer a zombie - am I someone else? I have a length of pipe again and am with three others in the lift going down to fight off the zombies - who are not only smart, but fast I now remember - they crowd inwards and I am beating at them with the pipe, everyone is beating at them, but I am bitten on the arm. We're back upstairs and we're all sitting around - the feeling of dread, doom and bitterness in us. I wake up, sweating.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Jack
And inspired by Westerns:
He moseyed his horse slowly through the sands, still a few miles out of town. The dry shrubs and tumbleweeds almost shimmered in the glaring sunlight, sand caught in the dried plant matter to look like sparkling diamonds. Jack didn't even look twice and spit over the side of his horse. He reached around into the saddlebag and took out a cigarette and, with a clink, lit it with his old lighter. Smoke swirled around him in a cloud that made him look like one of those new steam engines blazing down the desert at speeds not meant for man to travel at, "If it's faster'n'a horse," he'd said, "then men weren't men to travel it." And he'd meant it. He hadn't ever travelled in one of the dirigibles, either. He found that more unnatural than the trains - men in the sky, flying like birds? Against nature as far as he was concerned. He leaned his hand down, like he did every couple of hours, and checked to make sure his handcannon was still at his side. It was. He then checked his watch, like he did every couple of hours, to see if he was making time. He was.
He moseyed his horse slowly through the sands, still a few miles out of town. The dry shrubs and tumbleweeds almost shimmered in the glaring sunlight, sand caught in the dried plant matter to look like sparkling diamonds. Jack didn't even look twice and spit over the side of his horse. He reached around into the saddlebag and took out a cigarette and, with a clink, lit it with his old lighter. Smoke swirled around him in a cloud that made him look like one of those new steam engines blazing down the desert at speeds not meant for man to travel at, "If it's faster'n'a horse," he'd said, "then men weren't men to travel it." And he'd meant it. He hadn't ever travelled in one of the dirigibles, either. He found that more unnatural than the trains - men in the sky, flying like birds? Against nature as far as he was concerned. He leaned his hand down, like he did every couple of hours, and checked to make sure his handcannon was still at his side. It was. He then checked his watch, like he did every couple of hours, to see if he was making time. He was.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Captain Horatio Adventure
This piece was inspired because I'm really into steampunk at the moment, and because I met a guy at GenCon in 2008 called Captain Horatio Adventure:
The zeppelin began to descend below the smog-choked horizon of London. Horatio felt that rising in his gut whenever an airship descended that little bit too quickly. He reached over into his brown, leather satchel and fished out his gold monoscope and peered over the landscape, examining the soot-blackened buildings of the city he had left behind so long ago. He spotted his old school, a place he thought torn down a decade ago, but there it was, in all its sandstone glory. The walls seemed pockmarked, but he couldn’t see any more details – the monoscope had its limits. He folded the contraption away and clicked open his pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket – a quarter past eleven. He wouldn’t be late, but he wouldn’t be entirely on time. He’d have to forego changing his clothes and simply go straight to his meeting. He looked down at himself. His waistcoat was stained with coffee spilled on him early in the flight, his jacket was worn around the sleeves and he had lost a cufflink. He really wished he had the time to change his suit. He still knew where his old tailor was, “Please prepare for landing, all safety straps must now be fastened.” Horatio tugged at the leather strap around his waste to make sure it was connected. He sipped up the last of his coffee as the service girl came by and collected his cup and saucer.
NaNoWriMo
So I've decided to undertake the Na(itional)No(vel)Wri(ting)Mo(nth) competition. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November - which is only 1,667 words a day. One of the reasons I'm telling you 5 people who actually (occasionally) read this mess of a blog is because now that I have, it will be too embarrassing for me to give up and will force me to finish it. I hope.
I will be posting samples of the work once I get underway on November 1st, and anyone with any ideas about WHAT I should write about are completely welcome in the comments section below.
Should it be steampunk? Noir? Realism? Gritty contemporary realism? Magic realism? Fantasy? Narrative non-fiction? Help me figure this mess out!
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