Month: February 2011

#oneaday, Day 39: Games Maketh the Man

“Is Bulletstorm the worst video game in the world?”

That’s the question Fox News asked earlier with an article that was hyperbolic and scaremongering, even by their questionable standards. According to Fox’s “experts”, including Carol Lieberman, a psychologist and book author, “the increase in rapes can be attributed in large part to the playing out of [sexual] scenes in video games”.

Whoa there. Hold on a minute. The playing out of sexual scenes in video games (which, I might add, are typically incredibly tame and rather immature in the way they are handled) is a “large” contributing factor to the increase in rapes?

This is scaremongering against games taken to a whole other level. Unbelievable stuff. And, of course, complete and utter nonsense. If we follow through Lieberman’s arguments to a natural (and exaggerated) conclusion, here’s how the life of an average gamer would generally go:

09:00 – Wake up wearing same clothes you’ve been wearing for the last six months because game characters never change their outfits. Skip breakfast because game characters never eat. Skip going to toilet for same reason.

09:05 – Leave house. Run down road because game characters never walk except in cutscenes.

09:06 – See passer-by, assume they’re enemy. Kill them for XP and loot and/or rape them if they’re female.

09:07 – Repeat process ad nauseam until reaching work.

09:30 – Reach work, still running. Enter work building. Start lurking around corners.

09:35 – Shoot out security camera in case it sees you, despite the fact you actually work here.

09:40 – Run around office using cubicles as cover, shooting anyone you happen to catch a glimpse of in the head.

10:00 – Called into boss’s office.

10:05 – Defeat boss by filling him full of lead.

10:10 – Rape him for good measure.

10:15 – Loot his body, because bosses always carry the phattest lewt.

11:00 – Take elevator up to next level. Repeat process.

12:00 – Police arrive. Shootout ensues.

12:10 – Die. Fail to respawn because you don’t get to do that in real life.

Now, granted, there are some absolute fuckwits in the world to whom that probably sounds like a great way to live out the last few hours of their lives. But, as is frequently pointed out by rational people every time such a tragedy happens, if someone is going to go on a killing and/or raping rampage, it’s probably not games that caused it in the first place. To assume that the average person doesn’t have the appropriate filters in their brain to differentiate between the darkly comic, over-the-top, ridiculously exaggerated violence in Bulletstorm—a game intended for (immature) adults, let’s not forget—and how horrifying it would be to witness real-life violence or rape? That’s just insulting to, well, everyone.

The article does raise one valid point about control and “censorship”, though. Parents still aren’t taking responsibility for the entertainment their kids are interacting with. Personally, I strongly believe that there should be tighter controls on how games are sold. I’m not talking about censorship, I’m talking about stricter enforcement of age ratings—and a change in the ridiculous policies that most retailers adopt that allow parents to buy age-inappropriate games for their children. If the parent is by themself, then sure, there’s not much that can be done. But as it stands right now, if a parent is obviously buying a game for the kid they have with them, most retailers won’t do a damn thing about it.

The above will probably have made clear that I don’t believe that there’s a direct causal link between violence and sexual content in the media and the way people behave. But I do believe that children shouldn’t be exposed to such content from such an early age these days—more so they can hold on to the increasingly-irrelevant concept of “youth” more than anything else.

Sadly, though, it’s pretty clear that it’s too late. To backtrack now and enforce tighter controls would be difficult, if not impossible to do. So we’re just going to have to live with the consequences. Which, according to Fox News, is a society full of joypad-wielding rapists.

I shall leave you with two interesting thoughts to mull over:

#oneaday, Day 38: Angry Jedi

In an attempt to stem the tide of people asking one of the most common questions on the Internet—”how did you get your username?”—I shall set out the story forthwith.

I’m a trained teacher, as some of you may know. This meant I spent an extra year at university following my practically useless but enjoyable English and Music degree studying a PGCE (a PostGraduate Certificate of Education, for those who like to know what their acronyms mean). It was an enjoyable but stressful time, and I was happy to make some good friends during that time, one of whom was my placement buddy for my second in-school assignment.

His name was Owen, and he was a good man that I’ve sadly fallen out of touch with in recent years, but we had some excellent times. He was also convinced that we were Jay and Silent Bob, an observation that was pretty accurate on so many levels. But that’s beside the point: the point is, Owen and I were the original source of Angry Jedi.

You see, sometimes when you get home from teaching practice all you really want to do is get absolutely trashed on cheap rosé and make music from approximately 48 CDs worth of samples. So that’s what we regularly did, with extremely entertaining results. We decided that we needed a name for our makeshift band, and decided that the oxymoron “Angry Jedi” was a fitting summation of our respective personalities and the bizarre music we created. Ever since that time, I’ve taken to using “Angry Jedi” or some variant thereof as my username, as it’s 1) a reminder of some very fond memories and 2) a name that no-one else ever appears to have thought of on the Internet… except someone on Xbox LIVE.

On Xbox LIVE, I’m called “sonicfunkstars”, which I believe we discussed the other day. “sonicfunkstars” (all lower case, that’s important) was a previous makeshift band that consisted of me and, occasionally, my good friends Sam and Edd. There was also a brief dalliance with being “Captain Gaspard and the Snarfriders”, but tracks under that name are all on a MiniDisc somewhere (yes! MiniDisc!) and I have no idea where. If I ever find them, you’ll be the first to know.

But you don’t care about personal history. You want to hear the ridiculous sounds we came out with, of course. All right. Here’s a selection of some of our finest moments. iPhone users, as ever, click on the song titles to listen. Everyone else, use the fancypants WordPress flash player thingy.

Bad Influence

This track was composed for two reasons: firstly, to have an excuse to use as many Harry Potter quotes as possible, including the titular “Bad Influence” extract. Secondly, we put it together while we were teaching a unit on “fusion” music at school. As such, there are some fairly diverse ethnic influences throughout the track. It also contains the line “It’s knowledge. It’s power. It’s not a fucking tractor.” And, as I recall, we used to find the “ta ta tippy tippy tum na” guy hilarious, though that may have had something to do with the amount of wine consumed.

Baching Mad

When creating this track, we decided it would be amusing to imagine what it would be like if J.S. Bach were having a piano lesson and doing very badly—so badly, in fact, that he ended up breaking his piano. (Let’s leave aside the historical inaccuracy of J.S. Bach playing a piano for a moment.) We then followed this by attempting to mix together as many inappropriate pieces of “classical” music as possible with some kickin’ beats. See how many you can spot. This is, to date, one of my favourite aural monstrosities. Particularly the key change partway through.

Kick the Dog

I honestly can’t remember what twisted path of logic led to the decision that we should create a track based on abusing small yapper-type dogs with a variety of increasingly-gruesome implements punctuated by drum fills performed by chickens. But I’m glad we followed it. Owen’s performance of all the verbs he wanted to do to annoying rat-like dogs took several takes, as I recall. There’s also a nice bit of Nirvana mixed in there, too. No actual dogs were harmed during the course of this track.

The Guff Rap

No explanation required.

Get Off My Ship Original Mix and Ultimate Mix

These two tracks performed two important functions: firstly, to provide a showcase for PATRICK STEWART, and secondly, to demonstrate the concept of remixing to impressionable sixth formers. Captain Picard gets increasingly frustrated at the people who keep invading his bridge and politely requests they vacate the premises.

The Judas Joint

Our crowning glory: mixing, if I recall correctly, five Judas Priest tracks together and including a break for Meg Ryan to have an orgasm. The evil laugh in this is performed by me. I was pretty impressed with myself.

There are other tracks, some of which don’t appear to have survived the move between computers and through time. The most notable absence is a brilliant song called “Today Fucking Sucked”, which I don’t believe needs any further explanation.

Anyhow. I hope you’ve enjoyed this window into the life of a trainee teacher, circa 2002-2003. And now you know why I’m called Angry Jedi. It is not because of the somewhat more offensive meaning of the phrase which my friend Amy discovered last year.

If you want to know that one, you can Google it yourself. (It’s quite amusing. And/or disgusting. I forget which.)

#oneaday, Day 37: Sportyballs

I don’t get sport. I never have, and I suspect I never will.

This is not through lack of trying. I used to play football (soccer, for our American readers) with my local Cub Scout pack when I was a kid. We were sponsored by a scrapyard and our best result was 1-0 to us. Our worst result was 21-0 to them. This convinced me that football (soccer) was Not My Game.

Early in my #oneaday career, I decided I was going to attempt to get into Formula 1. Cars racing around tracks is more appealing to me than sweaty men running up and down a pitch. But I found myself not caring enough to keep up to date with it. And forgetting that races were happening. And finding myself thinking there were many, many things I would rather do than sit passively in front of the TV for hours at a time. (One of which was sitting in front of the TV with a controller in my hand, which at least is a bit more “active” entertainment.)

My wife enjoyed football (soccer), so back when we were still together, I picked up a copy of FIFA 10 in an attempt to try to understand what was so appealing about it. I played it a bit, got destroyed 21-0 in an online game and was convinced for the second time in my life that football (soccer) was Not My Game.

I find myself perpetually bewildered by people who discuss the sports team they support as if they have anything to do with it. “We bought that striker person for a bajillion pounds,” they say, substituting “that striker person” and “a bajillion pounds” with an actual player’s name and an actual amount of money respectively. “We had an amazing result,” “We’re top of the league”. I just don’t get it. I don’t even show that much loyalty to my RPG characters. They’re still “they” to me.

And today, apparently, is something to do with a superb owl. (Thank you to whoever posted that joke in my Twitter feed while I was writing this.) There seems to be an assumption that everyone will be supporting either the Packers or the Steelers, which may be true if you’re an American, but I have no idea who either of those teams are or where they’re from. I could Google them, but to be honest, I really couldn’t care less.

I guess it’s just a different form of nerdery; one that is more “accepted” (for want of a better word—perhaps “embraced” is more appropriate) by society at large than video gamery and gadget-joy. I can talk for hours about my character builds in Final Fantasy XII and the makeup of my team of Personae from Persona 4 but I wouldn’t know where to begin if someone started a conversation on the batting average innings goal difference of the Packersteelers bowling out for a duck’s ludicrous display.

Each to their own, I guess. Just don’t expect me to even try a little bit to join in with such a conversation. I’ll see you at the bar.

#oneaday, Day 36: School Bands

The delectable and sexy Mr Alex Cronk-Young came out with this little nugget on Twitter earlier:

(in other news, great job on that Twitter integration, WordPress. Love it. But I digress.)

Ahem. Anyway. Following that statement, I decided it would be a good idea to go back and investigate if the music I listened to back at school actually was shit. Well, actually, I know for a fact that some of it was shit, even back then, but I’m interested to see how it compares to the shit we have today, if you see what I mean.

I’ve carefully selected ten tracks for your delectation. Those of you who have Spotify can clicky-click the titles to hear them if you’ve never heard them or can’t remember what they sound like.

So here goes! Let’s jump in.

Oasis: Rocking Chair

Oasis were huge while I was at school. It was the height of the “Oasis vs Blur” nonsense, which I never quite understood because they were two completely different bands with very different sounds from one another.

Within the Oasis fans, though, there were a few subsets; the people who just bought the albums and listened to their stuff on the radio, and those who thought they were “hardcore” because they’d bought all the singles and thus had access to all the B-sides.

The thing is, though, most of Oasis’ B-sides and album tracks were considerably better than the singles they put out. For starters, they didn’t always stick to the standard “guitar, bass, drums, vocals” combo that most of their singles did. This track, for instance, includes a bit of subtle organ work (easy there) in the background and as such has a very different sound from a lot of their other work.

Most of the B-sides were just plain better tunes, too. Rocking Chair perhaps wasn’t the best of them, but it’s certainly one that I’m fond of, and less well-known than the now overly-played The Masterplan.

Alanis Morissette: You Oughta Know

Jagged Little Pill was the second ever album I bought. I’m not entirely sure why I bought it, because Alanis Morissette was on local radio on the school bus pretty much every single day and I wasn’t entirely sure that I liked her voice.

I was pleasantly surprised by the album, though. There was a lot of very obvious angst throughout, particularly in this track. She swore, too, which made it A Bit Rebellious.

Now obviously I wasn’t an angry young Canadian woman in my teens, so I perhaps couldn’t relate to this album on a particularly personal level. But she wrote some decent tunes and had a distinctive sound of her own. More to the point, these songs still hold up pretty well today.

The Verve: Lucky Man

The Verve were one of those groups that I picked up the album for after much deliberation. I wasn’t entirely convinced that the singles I’d heard on the radio were quite what I was looking for, and once I’d picked up the album I still wasn’t convinced that they were actually any good.

This track stuck out, though. It may have been due to my friend Craig’s incessant insistence that we try and learn how to play it in the school’s music practice rooms every lunchtime—that and most of Oasis’ B-sides, some of which we actually did a respectable job of—but, besides the over-over-overplayed Bitter Sweet Symphony (which still gets rolled out on TV promos today) this was one that seemed to be tuneful and memorable.

Listening to it now, it’s a bit dull and morose, but it is better than the rest of the album.

Spice Girls: 2 Become 1

Too many guitars! Need more crap and cheese! (That sounds like the worst party ever.)

The Spice Girls were overproduced rubbish who couldn’t sing live. They were supposedly “hot”, but I found their aesthetic appeal somewhat questionable. Victoria Adams (now Beckham, of course) was too skinny and moody-looking. Emma Bunton looked a bit… I don’t know, odd. It was unfashionable to find Mel C attractive and she had pikey trousers (but would go on to be by far the best solo artist) and Mel B was just too frightening and weird to find in any way hot.

That left Geri, of course, who was ginger at the time, and thus made anyone judging her to be the “hottest” feel a little conflicted thanks to the age-old ginger stigma—something else I never quite understood.

Also, this song made us giggle at the time when we all determined that it was about fucking. It’s really not subtle. At all.

The Cardigans: Sick & Tired

I actually didn’t own a Cardigans album until much, much later, but this track was on a dodgy compilation CD called “Essential Indie” (the rest of which was utter shit, as I recall) which I got free with my Discman. I remember thinking that I liked the combination of Nina Persson’s sweet, girly voice and the unusual inclusion of flute and bassoon in the backing instruments.

Turns out I still do like all those things. What do you know.

Bernard Butler: Not Alone

Bernard Butler’s People Move On is another album that I don’t remember why I bought. I also remember thinking that the vast majority of it was dirge-like, boring crap. This track, though, had energy and “power” behind it, and I enjoyed listening to it, even if the rest of the album was dirge-like boring crap.

Still sounds all right today. I like the strings. I’m a big fan of string parts in guitar bands generally.

James: Laid

Ah, actually, I think this one was also on “Essential Indie”. It’s also another song about fucking.

I was a bit torn on whether I liked James or not; “Sit Down” was one of those tracks that was played so often on the radio and TV that you felt a bit dirty liking anything that was associated with it. But this was a decent enough song, even though it doesn’t really go anywhere and has way too much falsetto.

No, actually, it’s not that great at all. Fuck James.

Britney Spears: I Will Be There

Time for more cheesy crap! Britney hit the bigtime while we were still at school and I found myself liking her cheesy bullshit despite myself—even without taking that video (which, for the record, no-one was quite sure if they were supposed to find sexy or pervy) into account.

I’ve chosen this track to prove that I have indeed listened to her whole album. I also quite liked the fact that Metropolis Street Racer spoofed this particular song quite nicely on its excellent, completely original soundtrack.

Mansun: Stripper Vicar

Mansun were weird. Their album Attack of the Grey Lantern appeared to contain some sort of rudimentary conceptual storyline, until the bonus track told everyone otherwise.

This track pretty much summed it up. A song about a vicar who wears plastic trousers and gets away with stripping, who then dies.

It’s still pretty bewildering to listen to today, to be honest. Decent album, though—worth a listen.

Radiohead: Exit Music (For A Film)

This is the most depressing piece of music of all time, without question. It’s not as if OK Computer was a particularly uplifting album at the best of times, but for this track to show its miserable, suicidal face just four songs into the disc pretty much made it clear that if you were going to listen to this album all the way through, you were in for a Rough Ride.

It’s still a profoundly affecting track today, full of whiny miserable emotion and dodgy vocal synthesis in the backing. It’s difficult to know what is the “right mood” to listen to this track, because if you listen to it while feeling miserable, it sure isn’t going to help. But this song could bring a candy convention in Happyland to its knees, too.

Basically, it’s a great song but no-one should listen to it if they want to smile ever again.

There you go. A super-uplifting playlist for your Saturday night, circa 1999. Enjoy.

#oneaday, Day 35: In Praise of Last Gen

An oft-had discussion in gaming is what constitutes the “golden age” of gaming, or indeed if there has even been one.

For some, it’s the age of the arcade, when games were designed for pure fun and nothing else—besides emptying your pocket of quarters/local equivalents, of course. For others, it’s the home consoles of the NES era; others still, the 16-bit wonderment of the SNES and Genesis/Mega Drive. For yet others… You get where this is going, I’m sure.

For me, the golden age will forever be the PS2 era. I didn’t always think this was going to be the case; I remember playing PS2 games for the first time and thinking they were graphically impressive, but somehow lacking the “magic” of my favourite PS1-era games, particularly when it came to JRPGs. It took time, but the PS2 gradually proved itself as a force to be reckoned with, with a gigantic library of excellent titles (and an even bigger library of fucking awful ones) and the kind of backing from the public that Microsoft and Nintendo could only have dreamed of in those days. Funny how things change.

The thing is, being unemployed and skint as I am at the moment, I’m finally getting around to attempting to beat some of the PS2 titles that have sat, under-loved, on my shelf for years now. Final Fantasy XII is my current project: I’m now over 60 hours into it and still loving every minute. It’s struck me while playing FFXII that it seems to be a much more infrequent occurrence that a current-gen (360, PS3 or Wii) game will grab me in quite the same way as numerous titles from the PS2 era did… and indeed still are.

I wonder how much of this is down to graphics. Naughty Dog aren’t far from the truth with their jokey “next-gen filter” option in Uncharted; an increasing number of games in the current generation are looking increasingly interchangeable, with “gritty”, “realistic” graphics often winning out over vibrant colours. There are exceptions, of course, and I discussed a number of these the other day.

I don’t think it’s just visual character, though; I think the way games are designed and consumed has changed considerably since the PS2 days, too. Look at the number of people who Achievement-whore these days. More often than not, this takes place not through a desire to see everything the game has to offer, but instead to line up their shiny virtual trophies on their virtual shelf and brag to their friends. The social side of gaming is cool, sure, but what happened to gaming just purely for the sake of fun?

There’s no reason for these people to want to 100% Final Fantasy XII, for example. There’s no public way of recognising your achievement besides actually telling people. But I think that’s kind of a good thing, personally—if you want to be a hardcore insane idiot and complete every insanely difficult hunt, clear out every unnecessarily difficult area just for the satisfaction of knowing you have, that’s great. But there’s no feeling of “obligation” to do so—the person who storms straight through FFXII‘s main quest without exploring the side content is getting their money’s worth just as much as the hardcore insane idiot.

But in games with Achievements these days, many people feel that they haven’t got their money’s worth unless they 1000G/Platinum Trophy the game. And in many cases, some of those Achievements and Trophies are enormously tedious collectathons (Assassin’s Creed), forced replays of lengthy games (Mass Effect, Dragon Age) or encouragement to completely remove any “meaning” and sense of consequence from moral choices in games (any game that has separate Achievements for completing quests/levels in multiple different ways, thereby encouraging saving before “important” bits, then reloading and replaying just to get said Achievements).

Screw that; I’m just as guilty as the next man or woman of Achievement-whoring at times. But spending such a protracted period of time in the company of a last-gen game without all that bollocks to think about is giving me pause for thought. Are things really moving in the right direction?

It makes me a little sad to think that there’s a generation of gamers now who have no idea what gaming life pre-Achievements was like—and with Sony’s ditching of PS2 support on the PS3 and Microsoft’s woeful “backward compatibility” (I use the term loosely) on the Xbox 360, it’s becoming more and more unlikely that newer gamers will have the opportunity to explore that side of gaming—and then even if they do, they’ll probably be put off by “ugly” SD graphics. Look at how much snobbery people have towards the Wii’s graphics now.

Do I have rose-tinted specs when it comes to looking at last-gen gaming? Perhaps. But I’m more than happy to live in the past, if so.

#oneaday, Day 34: #whatstigma?

Comedienne Rebecca Front posted the following tweet yesterday, and was somewhat surprised at the level of response it got:

It was a bold move, particularly for a public figure, but in doing so she inspired a veritable plethora of people to “come out of the closet”, as it were, and admit that they had suffered mental health issues, be they depression, anxiety, panic attacks, OCD or any number of others.

Front’s aim with the original tweet was to encourage people to talk openly about the things they felt without feeling a stigma attached to it—hence the hashtag. And it was genuinely touching to see the number of people who latched on to this topic, confessing how they suffered from numerous “hidden” ailments in their mind whilst going about what otherwise seemed to be perfectly “normal” lives.

In fact, Front conjectured that some form of mental illness affected almost everyone. That may appear to be an exaggeration, but the number of people responding to her original tweet, coupled with the fact that #whatstigma became the top non-promoted trending topic in the UK for a good few hours yesterday, made it clear that there were plenty of people out there who do suffer from these things and perhaps haven’t had the opportunity to talk about them, or don’t feel comfortable talking about them.

It’s no surprise, really, that there’s a perceived stigma surrounding mental illness, however. Back in last May, Janet Street-Porter made some ill-advised comments suggesting that depression was being used as a fashion accessory—that people were just saying they were suffering because it was the “in” ailment to have.

There may well be some people who deliberately exaggerate their feelings of “being down” into “depression”—if there are, then they really should find better things to do with their lives. But these people aside, people do genuinely suffer. And it’s not just a case of “snapping out of it”, of “cheering up”, of saying “chin up” enough times. It doesn’t just go away; it sticks around, for years sometimes. Like anything, there are peaks and troughs; the peaks can feel like you’ve escaped it, finally, that you’re in the clear, that you can get on with enjoying your life. But then a trough comes along, plunges you deep into the darkness and the long climb back out begins again.

I’ve felt this way—I still do. And I know many, many other people—some in person, some via the Internet—who also do. I didn’t recognise my depression for what it was until I spent some time with someone who explained it to me at university. I recognised the feelings she described and knew that I’d felt them myself, too. It wasn’t just a case of feeling “a bit sad”. It was a variety of factors piling up in such a way that made it very difficult to deal with life’s trials, whatever they might be.

And I hate it. The feeling of helplessness that comes with it; of having days when you just don’t want to get out of bed; of times when nothing can stop you from feeling regrets, anger, fear, shame; of wondering if it’ll ever end. For some people, it becomes just something about you—something you deal with. For others, it’s an acute condition which can be treated. But for most people, there are underlying causes that need to be dealt with rather than attacked with “quick fixes”.

In my case, these underlying causes are well-documented, and I’m doing what I can to fix them. This makes me feel a little better most of the time—knowing that I’m making the effort to do something about these underlying causes is good motivation to keep doing what I do. But there are still days when I find myself wondering if it’s worth it, if anything is ever going to come of all these efforts that I’m making.

I won’t know unless I keep trying, I guess.

My feelings on this made clear, now, here’s the shameless plugging. In May, I’ll be running the BUPA 10K with a couple of very lovely friends I’ve met via the One A Day Project. All three of us will be running in aid of the mental health charity “Mind”. I’d certainly appreciate it a great deal if you can spare a bit of virtual loose change to fling my way via my fundraising page. Every little bit will help people to get the help they need to overcome these difficulties.

Thanks for reading this; thanks for your help; and thanks for your support.

#oneaday, Day 33: Twitter: A Skewed Window on a Weird World

Twitter is many things, as I’ve said a number of times on this blog before. It’s arguably my primary means of communication these days, since the vast majority of my friends are quite-to-a-very long way away, and asynchronous communication is nice and convenient. It’s a good source of information (in fact, Twitter themselves now describe themselves as an “information source” rather than a means of “short, timely messages” like they used to) and a good way to keep up with what people you’re interested in are up to—and not just when they’re having a shit.

By far the most remarkable thing it does, though, is something that it wasn’t originally designed to do, but which it was always naturally going to do, given its nature. And that is the way it can give an eye-opening snapshot of “this day in history”. Even when seemingly nothing is happening.

Today, there happened to be several things of (in some cases questionable) note occurring. Depending on where the tweets were coming from, it was interesting to see the differences and priorities.

By far the most horrifying tweets were emanating from the Middle East, where Egypt has been undergoing some not-inconsiderable turmoil. Today, there were violent clashes in Tahrir square, and via one Middle East-based person I follow who was RTing someone stuck in the middle of the violence and horror, it was possible to get a “first-hand” account of what was going on. It was oddly sobering to see the whole thing unfold, and although I didn’t know the person being RTed in question, I was hoping that their tweets would keep coming and end on a positive note. I didn’t want to think about what a sudden cessation of the “commentary” would have meant.

Elsewhere in the world, Australia was preparing for an enormous cyclone. They haven’t had a great deal of luck over there recently. Due to the fact I don’t think I follow anyone who actually lives in Australia, most of the reportage on the incident that I saw today was pretty cold and clinical, although this image, showing what said cyclone would look like if it were en route to the UK instead of Australia, gave pause for thought.

And then there was the curious incident of Justin Lee Collins’ new girlfriend, which was reported by the Daily Mail today featuring a series of obnoxious paparazzi pictures of the couple on holiday. The article in itself was objectionable enough—as far as I’m concerned, celebrity squeezes aren’t news, even if they’re squeezing another celebrity—but what I found rather surprising was the reaction from quite a few (games journalist) people I knew on Twitter.

It transpires that the “mystery brunette” the Mail was referring to is actually someone who works in PR for the video games industry. I don’t know the person in question and have never had any direct contact with her, so I wasn’t much the wiser once people had explained the whole situation to me. But a lot of people seemed to find the whole situation hilarious—something which I found rather bewildering.

Now, granted, there’s a certain element of “hey, I know that person!” if you see an acquaintance or friend in the paper. But personally speaking, whether or not the games journalism biz had “got one up on the Mail” (normally cause for celebration), if I was the woman in question, I’m not sure I’d be particularly happy about the widespread discussion amongst a number of people I may well have had direct contact with in the past. It’s not her fault she got snapped by some paparazzi scumbag. Some may say it’s an occupational hazard of dating a “celebrity”, but that’s no excuse. Her privacy has been invaded; and while the discussion of the fact “we know who she is and the Mail doesn’t” hasn’t been malicious in tone, it’s drawn an unwarranted degree of attention to her.

In my opinion, anyway. But then I’ve never been one for any kind of gossip; people’s relationships are their own business—not mine, not yours and certainly not the Daily fucking Mail’s.

On a more uplifting note, one positive thing that came out of Twitter today was the #whatstigma hashtag started by comedienne @RebeccaFront. Via this hashtag, she was encouraging people to speak openly about mental illness, depression, anxiety and so forth, without fear of judgement or, well, stigma. It was heartening to see how many people took to it, and proof positive that there are plenty of people out there who are getting on with their lives despite struggling with difficult mental conditions. It was also, hopefully, a slap in the face to the sort of people who like to say “get over it”. (Hello again, Daily Mail.) I’d actually like to write a bit more on this subject as it’s one I do feel strongly about, but I think I’ll save that for another day.

So, on the 2nd of February 2011, what happened? Several shit things. One invasion of privacy. And thousands of people stepping up to publicly say something about themselves without fear or shame.

While not the most positive day the world has ever seen, to say the least, it was certainly an interesting day. Will it go down in the history books? Who knows? But those of us who were here have our own personalised record of the whole thing. And that’s pretty cool.

Good job, Internet.

#oneaday, Day 32: Brown Ops

Earlier today, this animated image from Insomniac Games’ Resistance 3 did the rounds. Impressive. But also rubbish.

Ooh, controversial.

But seriously, look at it again. What is the one thing that sticks in your mind after watching that short clip? You probably answered either “post-apocalyptic”, “monster” or “brown”.

The trouble with things like this is that they completely lose their impact after a time. I’m sure Resistance 3 is technically very proficient, particularly if that clip was rendered using the game engine, which I’m guessing it was. But the fact it looks like Gears of War meets Fallout meets any other post-apocalyptic brown “destroyed beauty” sort of environment completely kills any interest for me—there’s just too much of it around. And not just in the sci-fi genre; I haven’t played Modern Warfare 2 for months (I traded it in after I got bored and decided I had no interest in the rest of the Call of Duty series after it) but my one enduring memory of that game, too, is that there was a lot of brown around.

This is nothing new, of course. I vividly remember getting all excited over the original Quake, the first high-profile “true 3D” first-person shooter. My brother, obviously already sick of it having been exposed to it every day on PC Zone, referred to it as “oh, the brown game”. And yes, Quake was overwhelmingly brown, though there were a few blue bits in it too. This was just the beginning, though.

Yes, post-apocalyptic environments probably are going to be grey, brown and miserable. Although one thing that Halo: Reach shows is that it is possible for armageddon to be happening and it still be a vibrant place filled with colour. In the case of that game, it’s arguable that the impact of the destruction is all the more profound because of the splashes of bright colours that are everywhere.

Or alternatively, developers, how about fewer games involving things that have collapsed or are in the process of collapsing? Fewer games where there’s nothing but rock and stone? More games in organic, natural environments that aren’t dead. More games that aren’t afraid to take a few risks and be a bit more stylised rather than “gritty” and “realistic”. Some of my favourite games of all time are the Timesplitters series, proving once and for all that I don’t hate FPS games, I am just very tired of them all being identikit and boring. Timesplitters was colourful, distinctive and humorous but still managed to be atmospheric. And the news that CryTek are considering resurrecting the series fills me with an enormous amount of joy… and hope that they don’t fuck it up.

Perhaps this is why I like JRPGs at a time when more and more people seem to be getting switched off by them. They may be their own particular kind of generic, but at least they offer some colour as part of their aesthetic.