#oneaday Day 813: Fitocrat

20120411-000948.jpg

I last wrote about up-and-coming "fitness social game" Fitocracy back in… [checks] Ooh. October of last year. I thought it was more recently. I feel less guilty about writing about it tonight, in that case.

For the uninitiated, Fitocracy is a site which gamifies your exercise regime. Completing exercises rewards you with points. Points mean level ups. Level ups mean… well, nothing actually, but they provide you with bragging rights plus also give you a rough idea of how much cumulative exercise you've done since you started tracking it (and, in theory, "got serious" about it).

Tracking exercises can be done in two ways: manually logging them or linking to a Runkeeper account. The former is necessary for exercises which can't be automatically tracked such as resistance machines, free weights and bodyweight exercises. The latter is the easiest way to track cardiovascular workouts — particularly those where you've actually, you know, gone outside — but you can also track CV stuff directly within Fitocracy if you don't want to plaster your information over yet another site. (Runkeeper is a pretty cool app, though, so if you're serious about your fitness, enjoy attempting to draw GPS penises via your exercise route and have a smartphone, it's worth a download.)

If Fitocracy was just an exercise-tracking system with a levelling system, it'd be pretty decent. But the team behind it has gone the extra mile and included a bunch of other stuff, too. There are Achievements for a variety of things ranging from engaging with the site's social features to performing challenging exercises. There is a Quest system that provides specific, one-off missions for you to undertake — a good means of setting yourself long-term goals if you can't think of any of your own. You can save your favourite routines so you can easily recall and record them. There's a solid Groups system whereby you and your friends can work together and even set up mini-challenges to see who can earn the most points in a set time period. And the whole thing is wrapped in a straightforward, conventional but effective and highly-polished social interface that encourages interaction and encouragement between "players".

All in all, it's an excellent motivational tool. Everything combined together forms a powerful system that makes you feel like you're being "rewarded" for bettering yourself when, in fact, you're simply making a variable go a bit higher each time or occasionally unlocking intangible shiny things. The thing is, though, you are actually rewarding yourself. You're bettering yourself. You're getting fit. You're learning how to self-motivate. And, assuming you've managed to badger some friends into joining up too, you're also being rewarded by positive encouragement and reinforcement from other people who are going through the same thing. It's a social network for people who are serious about their fitness — or who want to get serious about their fitness. And it does its job extremely well.

Fitocracy was in closed beta for a pretty long time, and during that period it was only possible to use the service if you had an invite. Now, though, the whole thing is open to the public and is completely free to use — though power users have the option of shelling out $4.99 a month to become a "hero" and get early access to new features. The service has had a fresh new coat of purple paint, its site looks great and the new iPhone app is a pleasure to use with its simple, intuitive and attractive interface.

So why not give it a try? Here's my profile. I'll be your friend! NOW GET MOVING, MAGGOT!

#oneaday Day 812: Perspective (And Retro Filters), People, Please

20120410-004221.jpg

It was announced today that Facebook has acquired the popular mobile photo sharing and hipster filtering app Instagram, which has been available for some time on iOS and recently launched for Android phones. The deal was sealed for somewhere in the region of $1 billion in cash and Facebook stock, which is an excessively large amount of money by anyone's standards.

I shan't go into the ins and outs of the business side of things here (check my colleague's posts over on Inside Facebook for more details as well as a bit about what FB and Instagram have been up to together) but what I did want to talk about a little was the public reaction to the news.

In short, the reaction has not been overly positive, at least among the people I follow on FB and Twitter and their friends. I have seen numerous comments today that are simply along the lines of "oh, fuck" without any real explanation — basing their negative reaction simply on the widespread assumption that Facebook Is Evil.

As it happens, some of these people may be right to be a little concerned for the future of Instagram. Facebook has gobbled up several other social services over the course of the last few years, and the result has often been that said services disappeared without a trace. Location-sharing Foursquare rival Gowalla, for example, shut down its service a short while ago as its founders and key team members were reassigned to work on Facebook's own location service. Meanwhile, group messaging service Beluga was also swallowed up around this time last year, and eventually disappeared off the face of the Earth, only to be replaced by the Facebook Messenger mobile app.

Mark Zuckerberg has taken great pains to attempt to assuage the fears surrounding Instagram, however, noting that a key part of the service is its connectivity with non-Facebook networks such as Twitter, Tumblr, Foursquare, Flickr and Posterous. If Facebook is truly planning on keeping Instagram as its own independent entity to begin with, it wouldn't make sense to remove the facility to post to these other networks. What is probably more likely to happen is that Instagram's popular photo-filtering features will make their way into the official Facebook apps, making it even easier for people to take faux-retro pictures at every opportunity.

Perhaps Facebook will dissolve Instagram eventually, and that will be a bit of a pain for those who have Instagram but not Facebook accounts — but it won't be the end of the world as some people seem to be suggesting. There are plenty of other "hipster photo filter" apps available — Streamzoo and Lightbox appear to be two popular suggestions — and, in my purely anecdotal experience, the apparent majority of people who use Instagram use at least one other social service alongside it anyway, even if it's not Facebook, meaning they can simply direct followers to their Twitter/Tumblr/whatevr if and when they start using another service.

So Instagram being taken over by Facebook isn't cause for sadness, anger or irritation. It was a completely free service, after all, meaning in practice it had no real obligations to remain the way it was forever. Instead, we should be celebrating the fact that a small team succeeded in living the dream — to create something simple, fun and popular, and subsequently to make an absolute fucking butt-ton of money out of it. It's a success story of the modern age, made all the more notable when you compare it to the $35 million Yahoo! paid for Flickr back in 2007.

So if Facebook taking over Instagram bothers you, simply use something else — there's plenty of alternatives, as outlined above. In the meantime, the two companies can work on better integration of Instagram's popular features into what is, like it or not, the world's biggest social network. If you had paid money to use Instagram then you may well have a slightly stronger case for being pissed off; as it is, what we have here is a small company who offered its services to the public for free taking a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity — and, more to the point, no real evidence that Facebook's involvement will in any way compromise what the service is now.

As with so many things on the Internet, perhaps it's best to wait and see what happens before getting irrationally angry or sad about this. Otherwise all that jerking's going to put your knee right out of joint. So to speak.

#oneaday Day 805: Geek and Sundry

20120403-022323.jpg

I'm a big fan of both Wil Wheaton and Felicia Day. The pair of them, along with people like Jonathan Coulton, Paul & Storm, Gabe and Tycho and numerous others, have done a great deal to make being a geek "cool". And not in a particularly obvious "hey, we're going to make geekdom cool!" way — simply by being themselves and exhibiting an admirable amount of passion in their interests, they've brought numerous geeky pursuits to the attention of a wide variety of people who may not have investigated things like board games, web shows and other eccentricities before.

Today, Wheaton, Day and several others took a big new step in their campaign to provide bored geeks with ways to waste their time. The launch of Geek and Sundry had been teased — particularly by Day — for some time, and Sunday saw a 12-hour Google+ hangout "subscription drive" show to promote the new site, featuring a variety of events and very cool-sounding interviews. As I live in the silly UK time zone, I was fast asleep for most of these, but the good bits are likely on YouTube somewhere.

Anyway, what is Geek and Sundry? It's a YouTube channel. Nothing overly fancy there, but unlike a lot of YouTube channels, Wheaton, Day and their team have made a big effort to organise their work and provide regular programming. And between them, there's a wide variety of different shows that will cater to most (geeky) tastes. I spent a bit of time checking out a couple of the shows today, and I can see myself regularly checking in on them. They're good quality, interesting and presented by charismatic, likeable people. Doubtless not everything will be to everyone's taste — I know for a fact I have a number of friends who find Day's ditzy "Elliot Reed"-style personality quite irritating, for example, so they may wish to avoid her content — but there's a broad mix of things that should, between them, appeal to most people.

So what's on offer? Well, I could spend some time describing each show in detail but they've been good enough to provide trailers for each bit, so let's just explore those, shall we?

The Guild

Many of you will be familiar with The Guild by now, as it's been running since 2007 and has appeared on YouTube, the Xbox Live Marketplace, Zune Marketplace, MSN Video, iTunes, Netflix, Hulu and DVD. For those of you who aren't, it's a comedy series about the lives of a group of online gamers who all play a massively-multiplayer online RPG together. Exactly what game they play is never revealed, with them referring to it only as "The Game", but the focus is more on the quirky "real people" who make up the titular Guild rather than their online personae.

Day stars as Cyd "Codex" Sherman, who has to attempt to do her best when a guildmate — previously only known online — shows up on her doorstep. Hilarity, as you may expect, ensues.

Geek and Sundry will be showing the fifth season of the successful show.

The Flog

Fans of Felicia Day, this is where to go. The Flog is a weekly "vlog" show in which Felicia Day babbles nonsense for a few minutes and then goes off to do something interesting. The first episode sees her going to visit a blacksmith so she can better appreciate her Skyrim character's level 100 blacksmithing skill. She gets very excited about hammers, which is kind of adorable.

Tabletop

This has been the highlight of what I've watched so far. Wil Wheaton hosts a half-hour show devoted to a specific tabletop game. Throughout the course of each episode, he and his companions explain the rules of the game under scrutiny and play through it. (You don't see the whole game — just "edited highlights". Probably for the best, given the lengthy playtime of many board games.)

The format looks to be a great way to find out more about various tabletop games, and the banter between Wheaton and his guests is entertaining. The first episode demonstrates Small World, which is a game I've been interested in for a while.

Sword and Laser

Those who enjoy those strange tablet devices with paper pages will want to check out Veronica Belmont and Tom Merritt's show Sword and Laser. Based on the duo's podcast, the show focuses on sci-fi and fantasy and features interviews with authors, reviews of new releases and discussion of recent news in these genres.

Written By a Kid

This has the potential to be a lot of fun: original sci-fi, fantasy and horror stories by kids aged between 4 and 9 are turned into live-action and animated shorts by a variety of directors including Dane Boedigheimer (Annoying Orange), Rhett & Link (IFC's Commercial Kings) and Daniel Strange (Between Two Ferns with Zach Galfianakis).

LearningTown

Fans of "nerdcore" music will be right at home with this one, as dynamic musical duo Paul & Storm "blend vocal harmonies with comedic scenarios as they are tasked with reviving the flagging educational show of their childhoods".

If you've ever witnessed the majesty of Paul & Storm performing "Frogger: The Musical", then you'll likely know what to expect from this one.

Dark Horse Motion Comics

Finally, comic book fans will want to check in on the Dark Horse Motion Comics show, where a number of Dark Horse Comics properties including Hellboy, The Goon, The Umbrella Academy and others will be brought to live with motion graphics. The first episode is already up, based on "The Secret" by Mike Richardson, with art by Jason Shawn Alexander. (I know nothing about comics. I include these names for the benefit of people who do!)

I've subscribed already, as several of these shows sound like they're going to be great. The first episodes of some are now available, with others to follow in the next couple of weeks.

To find out more, check out the official website or subscribe on YouTube.

#oneaday Day 799: Um, Fluttershy

20120328-011325.jpg

A discussion with my friend Lynette earlier today (who, it has to be said, squeed rather enthusiastically at the news that I have been watching My Little Pony) saw us pondering, as so often happens with strong, character-led pieces of work, which My Little Pony was the most "us" — or at least the one we felt most able to relate to.

My answer — Fluttershy — is apparently one of the more popular ones, for a variety of reasons that I haven't explored as yet and am mildly terrified to, given the deep, deep rabbithole that sites such as knowyourmeme and TVTropes can be.

I imagine, given her timid nature, that there's at least an element of crossover between Fluttershy fans and Hanako fans — a category which, if you recall, I count myself firmly in. Her endearing meekness, anxiety and loyalty are character traits I can well and truly understand, and I know I have more than a few similar traits myself.

Take the fact that she has a clear case of social anxiety, and is nervous about showing off her talents except when absolutely necessary or in a situation where no-one can judge her. When taken along on a perilous journey to use her talent for "parenting" (for want of a better word) to convince an unruly, belligerent dragon to go and sleep somewhere else, she's (understandably, I feel) too scared to go in there and do her thing, even in front of her friends. And only partly because she's dealing with a fucking dragon.

I know too well how all that feels — of the difficulty and anxiety which surrounds using your talents and abilities in "public", even in front of people you love and trust. (Not the "dragon" bit.) I know, for example, that I'm a decent writer and that people enjoy reading my stuff, but I hate hate hate anyone watching me write. I have absolutely no idea whatsoever why this is — whether it's anxiety over people "backseat editing" or judging the things I've written before I've finished is anyone's guess. I just know that I hate it — but I like showing it off when it's finished, namely when I can hit "publish", light the blue touch paper and just walk away. (At this point, my fear of negative, destructive feedback comes into play, but that's a whole other matter.)

Same thing with music, really. Practicing is a necessary part of being able to play complex pieces of music, but I hate people listening to me practice. Performing? Fine. Playing the same bit over and over and over again until I get it right? Well, that's something to do with headphones or when no-one's in the house. Something of a combination of perfectionism ("if anyone's going to hear this, I want it to be right") and worrying about the judgement of others ("they won't want to hear those three bars repeated over and over and over! They'll tell me to shut up, or hurry up and get it right or something"), perhaps? I don't know.

Same with doing anything vaguely creative, in fact. I hate being watched doing something like that. Perhaps it's because doing something creative puts you in a vulnerable position where your "soul" (or whatever) is on display, and anyone could quite easily strike it for massive damage with an unkind word or an ill-timed snigger. It's something I could really do with Getting The Hell Over, but it's also one of those things that has indelibly stamped itself onto my personality over the years.

Whatever the reasons for it all… Um, Fluttershy? I feel your pain, girl.

#oneaday Day 796: Social Unplugged

20120325-024732.jpg

I unplugged myself from a bunch of social networks yesterday. I haven't deleted my accounts as yet and probably won't do so unless said sites start spamming me excessively, but I have stopped using a number of services which were proving to be fairly unnecessary in my day to day life. All told, I said goodbye to Foursquare, Gowalla, Path, Quora, GetGlue and possibly some others that have slipped my mind. Cold turkey, too — I simply deleted the apps from my phone and didn't tend to use their websites anyway. It was a pleasingly liberating feeling to have released myself from some of these self-imposed shackles.

So what have I chosen to keep around? Facebook and Twitter, for starters, since those are the nearest we have to "industry standard" social networking tools. Twitter's integration into iOS 5, for example, proves that Apple is certainly willing to show its support for the microblogging site, and it's rare these days to see a TV show that doesn't prominently display an "official" hashtag for online discussion alongside the broadcast. Facebook, meanwhile, I largely keep around for two reasons: firstly, my job, which involves playing a large number of Facebook games; and secondly, I have a number of friends and family who don't really "get" Twitter (or have no real desire to do so) and thus Facebook is a reliable means of communication with them.

Alongside this I have a Google+ account and am still a fan of Google's clean, clear service. Despite superficial similarities to Facebook, it actually provides a rather distinct user experience, combining the ease of discovering new people of Twitter with the possibility for conversations of more than 140 characters at once of Facebook. A lot of people feel they don't "need" it and indeed many of my friends who also use Twitter and Facebook have kind of relaxed their use of the service somewhat, but this has left me with a variety of unique and fascinating people with whom to engage with. Despite the hoohah over Google's changed privacy policy a few weeks back, the Google+ integration across the Web (particularly noticeable on YouTube) is a great example of how to do the "sharing" thing right.

I also still have the Formspring app on my phone. I haven't used it for a while, but occasionally it's a lot of fun to ask for some bizarre questions, see what nonsensical queries people can come out with and then attempt to retort with some appropriately witty (or brutally honest) responses. It's utterly pointless for the most part, but it's actually a good means for flexing the writing muscles in a slightly different way to what this blog offers — rather than having to come up with a topic myself, a Formspring answer is a short piece of writing based on a stimulus provided by someone else. I enjoy doing this.

Besides those (and the WordPress app, of course, for maintaining this 'ere site), though, I've come to the conclusion I have no need for anything else. I have no real need to "check in" to places I'm at, things I'm watching or books I'm reading, because it's just as straightforward to just post on Facebook, Twitter or G+ that I'm doing those things. They were fun for a while (and GetGlue sends you actual real physical stickers if you earn enough badges on the site!) but ultimately they're meaningless noise in an already chaotic world. So away they go. And thus my life becomes approximately 27% more peaceful.

If you'd like to follow me on Twitter, you can do so here. If you'd like to circle me on G+, you can do so here. And if you'd like to ask me silly questions on Formspring, you can do so here. That's your lot!

#oneaday Day 795: Thick Skin

20120324-011709.jpg

They say that in order to "make it" in many industries, you need to have a thick skin. To be able to suck it up, take your medicine, be ready for anything. This is particularly true if you do anything that involves facing the public — and especially true if said public is hiding behind the anonymity of the Internet.

I've come to the conclusion over the years that I do not have a thick skin. I feel bad if someone disagrees with me and argues their point a little too aggressively. I feel bad if I'm criticised when I don't feel it's warranted. And I feel absolutely fucking terrible if someone insults me directly. Basically, I'm a big wuss, and I've come to terms with the fact I'm a big wuss, though it doesn't particularly help me when these situations do inevitably arise at times.

It's a side effect of various things, really: anxiety, depression, being an introvert. I always like to feel like I'm trying my best at everything I do, and to have something come along and suggest that no, my best might not actually quite be good enough on this occasion can instantly sour my mood, even after a good day. And even if the criticism, argument or insult is clearly complete nonsense. It just feels bad.

My comments on this are prompted by a discussion that @JimSterling was having on Twitter earlier. He noted the following:

Forbes thinks game reviews fail readers because there's no dissenting opinion. I should tell them what readers *do* to a dissenting opinion. People always blame reviewers being too nice or too close to PR. I think it's more they don't want their audience to harass them. We're in an industry where gamers personally attack people for giving 8/10 scores, but somehow it's *all* the reviewers' and PR's fault. There's faults and imperfections on *all* sides, but I'm sick of pundits ignoring the bullshit that the game community itself perpetuates.

Jim's comments brought to mind a particular incident which arose while I was working on GamePro, may it rest in peace. I wrote a news article about a new game which had been produced by students and faculty at an educational institution in America. (I forget which one, and the article is no more, sadly.) Said game was narrative- and character-heavy and was designed to be an in-depth interactive exploration of LGBT issues — a topic area typically shied away from by many developers and seemingly almost completely taboo in the mainstream. (No, I don't count the nonsensical, ridiculous "gay" content in BioWare's recent titles which I have a strong suspicion was added purely for marketing purposes. But I digress.)

The game sounded interesting, and I knew from past comments and engagement with the GamePro community that there was a diverse array of people from all backgrounds reading my news stories, so I figured this would be an interesting thing for people to look at — evidence that interactive entertainment was helping to challenge taboos and break down barriers, in short.

The article was reasonably well-received by most commenters, until one thoroughly obnoxious person came along. He'd shot his mouth off a little on the GamePro Facebook page previously, but it was mostly the gibberings of a paranoid madman who believed that debit cards were out to get him. (I'm not making this up.) This time, though, his gibberings got personal. He called me a paedophile, a pervert, a deviant and all manner of other names. He threatened to organise his supposedly huge group of friends (I doubt the honesty of this claim) to do unpleasant things. He harassed me via Facebook, Twitter and the GamePro comments section — or at least he tried to. He got promptly blocked on Twitter and subject to the Ban Hammer I had the satisfaction of wielding both on GamePro.com and its companion Facebook page.

But the damage was done. I was devastated. I'd never had anyone throw such vitriolic, furious, personal attacks at me before. The article itself had nothing offensive in it whatsoever, and it was neither pro- or anti-LGBT, simply noting the existence of an interesting sounding sociological project that involved interactive entertainment. This was seemingly enough to light the fuse, however, and it completely ruined my day at the time.

I should grow a thicker skin, I know, particularly if I want to get anywhere in online media. But I'm just not sure I have it in me. I just want people to be nicer, to be decent human beings. Is that too much to ask?

Perhaps it is. You can't change human nature, after all, and after many years of observing behaviour on the Internet it's clear to me that a lot of people turn into complete dicks when provided with the protective shield of anonymity. As someone who was bullied a great deal when I was back at school, I can't even imagine how difficult it must be for teens these days considering how easy it is to anonymously "cyber-bully" someone.

Or perhaps they've just naturally evolved that thick skin I so desperately need over the last decade or two.

Either way, dear reader, go be nice to someone today. And always follow Wheaton's Law.

#oneaday Day 791: Give Me More J

20120320-013144.jpg

The Squadron of Shame recently tackled the subject of Japanese role-playing games in the first of a new format show that we're experimenting with. You can check out the show here, or if you're on something Flash-enabled, you can use the fancy-pants player below. (If you're not, you'll simply see a white space, for which I apologise.)

If I had to pick a favourite genre of interactive entertainment, it would, without doubt, be the Japanese role-playing game. I came to the genre relatively late (yes, I was one of those people who discovered RPGs in general through Final Fantasy VII) so I didn't really have the NES-era epiphany of realising that RPGs were the only genre of games that were attempting to tell a story — for a while, at least. I also didn't discover the earlier Final Fantasy games until much later, though I have, to date, played every one of them (except XIV) and have finished most of them. I still have V and VI outstanding. Shameful, I know.

There's something about the JRPG genre that has resonated with me ever since I first got off that train in Midgar and that awesome music started up, though. For one, I find the sort of over-the-top wackiness and melodrama that typifies the genre to many people to be entertaining and fun to get invested in. For another, I have absolutely no objection to a bit of moe in my games, and generally find anime characters of this type very appealing despite the fact that in many ways they're just as generic and widespread as the bald space marine with no neck. And for yet another, I enjoy the creativity frequently on display in the genre, both from an artistic and a narrative perspective.

It's a cliché to say that Japanese RPGs are clichéd, and a lot of people who accuse the genre of that probably haven't played one for a while. Sure, there are certain thematic elements and tropes which many of them have in common, but all are unique in some way. I can remember pretty much every JRPG I've played over the years in great detail — contrast this with the fact that there are a whole bunch of shooters I struggle to distinguish from one another, and it's pretty rare than I can even remember characters' names from Western RPGs like The Elder Scrolls. Each JRPG has its own unique cast of characters who are (in most cases) well-developed and display plenty of growth and change over the course of the story. Sure, some of them start their journeys as unlikable arseholes (Squall from FFVIII and Neku from The World Ends With You spring immediately to mind) but having a strong emotional reaction to a character — "I really don't like this guy" — is surely a sign that the writers have done their job well. It's sometimes a difficult experience to play a game with a seemingly dislikable protagonist, but often this is a sign that he's going to go through some experiences to soften that stony heart of his, and I'm a big fan of that particular narrative trope.

Leaving narrative aside, I've always been a fan of the often abstract, creative battle systems that populate Japanese role-playing games. This is perhaps best exemplified by the Final Fantasy series, which significantly shakes up its core mechanics with every single instalment. Don't believe me? Here's how the battle system and related mechanics differ from game to game:

  • Final Fantasy — Traditional D&D-style turn-based combat without movement. Spells split into levels, like D&D, and characters have a limited number of casts per level that increases with their character level. Characters have set classes and, later in the game, may promote these to "prestige" classes.
  • Final Fantasy II — Turn-based combat, but progression is tied to an Elder Scrolls-like system whereby using something makes it improve. Whack things with a sword and your sword skill will increase. Take a lot of damage and your hit points will increase. Use a lot of magic and your magic points will increase. This system proved rather divisive at the time, and predated Bethesda's implementation of a very similar levelling system into its flagship Western RPG series by six years.
  • Final Fantasy III — Turn-based combat, with progression tied to a "Job" system where characters could switch classes almost at will, allowing players to dynamically build a party to fit the situation at hand.
  • Final Fantasy IV — The first appearance of "Active Time Battle", the almost-real-time-but-not-quite system which has been present in most of the subsequent titles. Progression and skill unlocks were static and unique for each character.
  • Final Fantasy V — The Job system returns in a much more well-implemented fashion. Players may develop Jobs at will, and may also equip certain skills that they have learned from another Job to build multi-purpose characters.
  • Final Fantasy VI — Each character has unique special abilities but everyone has the opportunity to learn the same spells by fighting with "Espers" equipped.
  • Final Fantasy VII — The Materia system allowed for deep customisation of characters with a slightly puzzly element — how best to fill the available slots in a character's weapon and armour?
  • Final Fantasy VIII — By drawing magic out of enemies and "junctioning" these spells to statistics, players could create powerhouses that made their character level practically irrelevant. A bizarre and abstract system that didn't quite work.
  • Final Fantasy IX — Characters learned skills from their equipment. Once they had learned the skill, they could use it any time, otherwise they had to keep the equipment in question in use to perform the action.
  • Final Fantasy X — A brief break from the Active Time Battle system brought a clever turn-based system where certain actions could rearrange the turn order. Also saw the first appearance of a non-traditional levelling system in the form of the "Sphere Grid"
  • Final Fantasy X-2 — A return to the Active Time Battle system and a variation on the Job system came with X-2's Dressphere setup, whereby each of the game's three playable characters could equip several Jobs and switch between them mid-battle.
  • Final Fantasy XI — The first MMO entry in the series had another variation on the Job system whereby a single character had levels in every Job, but could only have one active at a time, with a "Sub-Job" becoming available after some progression had been made and allowing characters to use skills from this second Job.
  • Final Fantasy XII — Taking the combat of XI and applying it to a single-player game allowed XII to have a real-time feel while still feeling strategic, as players were able to pause the game to issue commands to characters while battling without being sent to a separate screen. Progression was split between a traditional levelling system and the "License Grid", whereby characters had to purchase licenses to use specific pieces of equipment and abilities, then purchase the equipment and abilities separately.
  • Final Fantasy XIII — Active Time Battle on a separate combat screen returns, this time with players taking control of a single character in fights that focus more on carefully-timed Paradigm Shifts (effectively Job changes by another name) rather than using specific abilities. Had a distinctly unconventional levelling system whereby characters could gain levels and abilities from six different classes independently.
  • Final Fantasy XIII-2 — Similar to XIII, but with only two characters available. Players could catch various monsters to fill the third party slot. Characters could once again develop down the six different paths, though monsters had a fixed class which could also be developed. Unlike XIII, where you were stuck playing as the party leader, in XIII-2 you could switch between the two characters at will, and one of them getting knocked out did not mean failure.

As you can see, Final Fantasy is a series which has evolved significantly over the years, and yet many accuse Square Enix of letting it stagnate. Sure, they've arguably made a few missteps over the years — XII, XIII and XIII-2 have all proven somewhat divisive in particular (though I enjoyed all three of them) — but one thing that the Final Fantasy team really can't be accused of is sitting on their laurels and churning out the same old thing year after year. The same is true for many other JRPG developers. It's one of the richest, most creative genres out there.

So why has it fallen from grace? A combination of factors. With the increasingly-busy lives people lead today, a 100-hour game is no longer necessarily seen as a good thing. Budgets for high-definition games spiral out of control, making the production of an HD JRPG an impractical prospect for many studios, particularly when they can't necessarily count on huge sales numbers to recoup their expenditure. (This is perhaps why MonolithSoft and Mistwalker chose to release the gobsmackingly brilliant Xenoblade Chronicles and The Last Story on the Wii rather than the more popular/"hardcore" Xbox 360 and PS3.) And the eye of "the average gamer", whoever that might be, has drifted towards the West these days for the majority of their gaming fixes, rather than the East as once was.

There's still a rich back catalogue of excellent titles out there to explore in this deep genre, however — even more so if you learn Japanese. I'm making a point to go back and revisit some titles I missed the first time around at the moment — having recently played Shadow Hearts I'm now on to its excellent sequel, for example — and I'm having a great time. For the vast majority of these games, they're a reminder of a simpler time — no "Your friend is online!" notifications, no party chat invites, no DLC, no controversy over endings even when they sucked — and they're great.

So while the rest of the Internet yells and screams about each other about Mass Effect 3 (still!) I'm more than happy to immerse myself in a world of HP, MP, Attack, Magic, Item, Escape.

#oneaday Day 784: Does the Games Press need a "6 Music"?

20120312-233914.jpg

I was chatting with a few people on Twitter the other day, one of whom was the fine and lovely Aubrey "Chupacaubrey" Norris, better known as Deep Silver's Information Tarantula and the sender of the best PR emails in the known universe. The main thrust of our discussion was that the games press is seemingly becoming increasingly homogenised, with the latest "blockbuster" releases consistently monopolising coverage to such a degree that smaller games such as those Aubrey frequently represents are finding it particularly difficult to get noticed by big sites like Gamespot, IGN et al.

In practice, the games press is likely no more homogenised than it has been in the past, but the medium it examines has, over the course of the last few years, diversified to such a degree that it's nigh on impossible for the staff of high-profile outlets to cover absolutely everything — particularly when you throw the burgeoning social and mobile markets into the mix. It's the "Cambrian explosion of possibilities" that Sim City creator Will Wright talked about back in 2008. On the one hand, it's great that the audience playing games covers a much wider demographic than ever before. But on the other, coverage hasn't adapted enough to be able to celebrate the full breadth of experiences on offer. No one site can do that by itself.

Instead, behind the scenes at outlets decisions are made, and those decisions inevitably err on the side of "cover the shit out of whatever is going to be a massive seller this month". There's also something of a crossover between the outcome of this decision and the amount of assets tossed out by publishers — those big publishers who are responsible for getting hot new titles noticed and scoring the fat sales figures ensure that absolutely bloody everyone knows about their game by issuing a press release every time they release three new screenshots. (This is not an exaggeration.) This has the side effect of, at times, taking over the front page of press release aggregators such as GamesPress, particularly if the announcements show up in several different languages. Consequently, announcements regarding smaller titles often fall by the wayside.

It's not just with press releases that this happens, either. At gaming shows such as Gamescom, which I had the pleasure to attend last year, large publishers often throw big events lasting for several hours, which can cut into the valuable time available for journalists to scoot around smaller companies and pick out what are likely to be the "sleeper hits" of the year. And no-one wants to be that one outlet who didn't cover, say, EA's press conference.

At the other end of the spectrum, we get the phenomenon of the "indie darling", whereby a developer which hasn't followed the same sort of marketing strategy as a giant, multi-million dollar publisher has grown to seemingly disproportionately huge success through viral promotion and word of mouth. It's great to see this, but again this can lead to the monopolisation of coverage as outlets consistently pick out titles like, say, Minecraft and Bastion to point at any time they want to go "LOOK, WE COVER INDIE GAMES TOO!" Then the problem starts all over again in a slightly different form. Look at all the lists of awards for last year, for example. Most of the awards which celebrated indie games mentioned Minecraft, Bastion or Superbrothers: Sword and Sworcery EP. Where was the love for Frozen Synapse? Dungeon Defenders? Sequence? Dungeons of Dredmor? Dustforce?

In many cases, it's not that these titles don't get covered at all, it's more that they're treated as curios at best, deemed somehow "unworthy" of the excessive amount of behind-the-scenes footage, interviews, opinion pieces, previews, multiplayer previews, DLC previews and what have you that the big hitters get. There are occasional outliers — look at the positive effect Jim Sterling's celebration of Deadly Premonition had, for example — but for the most part, I can see why people like Aubrey get frustrated when they just want people to give the games they represent the attention they deserve. Tom Ohle of Evolve PR — an agency which represents some of the best, most underappreciated games in recent years — wrote an excellent post on this very subject about a year ago.

So what's the solution? It's a difficult prospect, to be sure, for coverage of these large blockbuster titles is, in theory, what the majority of the audience wants. The games sell bucketloads of copies on release, everyone is talking about them months before they're on shelves and reviews often seem like foregone conclusions by the time the embargoes eventually lift. But the trouble with all this is it means that one outlet becomes very much like another. Sure, each outlet has their own distinctive "voices" and some try to make a point of having a "unique" editorial style — sadly, this often translates simply to "snark" or "swearing" — but all of them are generally covering the same things at the same time.

For a possible alternative way to look at things, I looked to a different creative industry with a similar sort of overwhelmingly massive breadth to gaming: music. In the music business, no one outlet attempts to cover absolutely everything. That would be pure folly, quite simply for the fact that it would be literally impossible to do, even with a massive staff. But not only that, the audience doesn't want that, either. A kid who's into One Direction and Justin Bieber doesn't give a toss about what Vladimir Ashkenazy is up to. Similarly, a classical music buff probably isn't that interested in what Skrillex has to say about his latest beats. All across the music business, coverage is tailored to a specific, more specialised audience according to any combination of popularity, genre and target demographic, with occasional overlap and crossover. This happens with magazines, TV shows, websites and radio stations. It's been like that for a pretty long time, and it works.

BBC Radio 6 Music is a digital radio station from the publicly-funded British Broadcasting Corporation. It is almost the complete antithesis to the small-playlist, youth-targeted pop-focused station that is the BBC's flagship station Radio 1. It purports to focus on "alternative" genres of music including indie, folk, rock, punk, funk, blues, soul, jazz, hip-hop and all manner of other disparate (but still "non-classical") genres, though it doesn't eschew the mainstream entirely. It is, however, the place to go if you're tired of hearing a loop of Adele-Katy Perry-Maroon 5-Justin Bieber-repeat, and is regarded by many as a fine example of How To Get It Right. In fact, it is so well-regarded that when the corporation proposed closing the station to provide commercial rivals with more "room" in July of 2010, outcry from fans was so vehement that the BBC Trust rejected the proposals, noting that the station was "well-liked by its listeners, was highly distinctive and made an important contribution".

But what, you may be thinking, does any of this have to do with the games press? Well, quite simply, why isn't there a high-profile outlet in the games media performing a similar function to 6 Music? Why isn't there a successful, "well liked, highly distinctive" games media outlet making an "important contribution" by specifically choosing not to let the mainstream dominate its coverage, instead preferring to delve deeper into the game's industry's equivalent of "alternative music" while still acknowledging the blockbusters exist? A site which focuses on, for want of a better word, "single-A" and "double-A" titles to the same degree that every site and their dog has been focusing on Mass Effect 3 for what feels like the last aeon?

The audience is certainly there. I can't be the only one in the world who would rather read that site than bear witness to the increasingly-predictable coverage provided by leading games sites today. And should the site have the chops to prove itself as a go-to destination for this "alternative" side of gaming — to the exclusion of blockbuster-centric sites for those who prefer to avoid the big titles (or who don't want to hear about them quite as much) in favour of slightly less well-known fare — there'd definitely be the full support of hardworking PR types. The BBC has the benefit of an established name to promote itself as well as public funding, of course, but there have been stranger success stories.

Food for thought, huh. Perhaps I should just start it myself!

#oneaday Day 782: Is It Worth Complaining?

20120311-020858.jpg

I had an interesting discussion on Twitter earlier with Peter Skerritt of Armchair Analysis and Craig Bamford of Leveling Criticism. Peter argued that gamers had made their bed with regard to questionable business practices surrounding downloadable content, preorder bonuses and all of the other annoyances which this particular generation of consoles has developed — that since so many people have bought into these schemes over the last few years that it's now too late to go back, that any sort of "action" is not worth taking, and that anyone feeling the need to speak out about it should understand that doing so will have negligible effect.

Craig, meanwhile, countered that "'shut up and consume' is just greasy", noting that Mass Effect 3's controversial day-one DLC "prompted a huge backlash which the company had to expend serious PR resources to fix."

I'm not going to get back into this specific argument here, but I did want to address some more general points which Peter, Craig and I discussed. Namely, the question of whether or not it's worth complaining about something.

It's easy to complain about things on the Internet. Start a blog or a Twitter account. Rail against anything you find personally objectionable. Talk up the people who agree with you and either ignore the people who disagree or get into very loud and public slanging matches with them. "Internet Rage" is its own meme now, though ultimately the concept of "the Internet being angry at something" has arguably done more harm than good to the concept of actual, genuine protest.

The trouble is that there's an element of bandwagon-jumping. With any kind of disagreement, most people are going to come down on one side of the fence or the other. In the case of Internet arguments, those who are skilled in rhetoric will have very little difficulty in recruiting people for their side, as all it takes, in some cases, is a particularly persuasive YouTube video or an article featuring carefully massaged statistics to get people onside. People are lazy. If you lay an argument out on a plate for them, relatively few of them will have the inclination to go and research things for themselves. 'Twas ever thus, and we even see this in the professional specialist press to a certain degree.

It loses its effect after a while, though. Words are just words, after all, and as any protestor worth their salt will undoubtedly tell you, actions speak far louder than words.

Or do they? I haven't bought Mass Effect 3 but do I think EA give a shit about that fact? No, because a healthy number of people have bought Mass Effect 3, and those are the only people that EA care about. Those are the people that say to EA "what you're doing is acceptable, please do it more." It's not just something that happens in video games. It happens with all sorts of shady business practices. The more people just accept something as "that's the way it is" (houuuuuaaahhh!), the more likely companies are to want to keep pushing the boundaries a little bit further each time, like a toddler trying to figure out exactly how naughty is too naughty, only with millions of dollars instead of plastic things made by Fisher-Price.

Does that invalidate the criticisms that those people who object to it have? Does the fact that, say, EA has no need to take those people's criticisms into account mean that they should stop speaking out against those things which they find unacceptable or distasteful?

Absolutely not. For if those people stop complaining, then we have no dialogue. We have no discussion, no debate. We simply blindly accept, consume, bend over, take it. You may be happy to blindly accept, consume, bend over, take it. You may believe that there are more important things to worry about in the world than whether or not a software company squeezes an extra $10-$20 out of its most loyal fans. You may believe the lines spun by public relations in an attempt to limit the damage done to a brand's reputation. But that doesn't mean that the people who don't feel the same as you should be silenced. State your case. Come out from your corner fighting. You might change their mind — though given my experience of debates like this, you probably won't — or you might at least give them an alternative perspective to consider, even if they ultimately end up feeling the same way.

In short, I believe that yes, it is worth complaining. In the video games case, Peter argued that complacency is what has led consumers to the point they are at now, where buying a $60 game is no longer the end point of the relationship between the customer's wallet and the publisher's pockets — it's the beginning. If that's the case, though, while it may be too late to salvage matters with regards to things like DLC, preorder bonuses, shady sales practices and all manner of other considerations, surely that's a sign that consumers upset by all this should be more vocal in order to preempt publishers attempting to take advantage of them any further in the future?

Those expressing upset and annoyance at what they see as unfair shifts in business practices are now often accused of being "entitled". But that's simply lazy rhetoric. There's a big difference between being "entitled" (typically used in this context to mean "expecting something for free") and having very valid concerns about getting value for money or being treated fairly as a consumer. In the Mass Effect 3 case, no-one's expecting something for free. They want to pay for the game, to support the developer, but they don't want to be treated like idiots and/or bottomless cash pits in the process. Personally speaking, I don't think it's unreasonable or "entitled" to expect a complete product when you hand over your money for it. But, well, we've been over that already and I know far too well how futile it is for both sides to try and convince the other of their viewpoint.

The point: complaining or protesting may not have a direct or immediate effect. But it ensures that we continue to discuss, debate and consider things a little more carefully than we would otherwise if there was a complete consensus of opinion. It keeps things interesting, it prevents people from becoming too complacent and it allows people to retain their individuality rather than being treated as an amorphous mass of identical, anonymous "consumers".

Sounds better than the alternative to me. But then you probably disagree. In which case you're wrong, you entitled twat.

#oneaday Day 771: The Trouble With Kotaku Might Not Be Quite What You Think

20120228-123237.jpg

Yesterday, Internet Rage focused the full power of it's +5 Cannon of Ranting at Kotaku, and not for the first time. On this particular occasion, the problem was this article, by all accounts a rather obnoxious piece by comedian Kris Kail describing the fact that he supposedly managed to get laid several times in a room filled with Sonic the Hedgehog memorabilia.

The article drew heat for several reasons. Firstly, it was simply quite bad taste. Secondly, it was rather obnoxiously self-congratulatory, and a thinly-veiled attempt for Kail to sell more copies of his book Slacker's Paradise. Thirdly, and this is the thing that Kotaku has most commonly taken flak for in the last few years, it was really only tangentially related to video games.

Editor-in-chief Stephen Totilo took to Twitter shortly after it became very clear that reaction to the article's publication was almost universally negative. His response, though, was somewhat curious, as it seemed like he was apologising for something different to what everyone was upset about.

"The only person who has to apologize for stories on Kotaku is me," he tweeted. "It was my call to run the Sonic story. I had expected it to come off as funnier. That was an error of judgment. But, more significantly, I owe our readers an apology for okaying a story that implies all gamers are straight men. I should've caught that. It's no small thing. No article on Kotaku should make you feel that you don't count as a gamer. If one does, that is my fault and inconsistent with Kotaku values. I must also add that humor and writing about sex isn't off-limits at Kotaku. We just have to do it right and not forget our own standards."

While it's good that Totilo responded so quickly to criticism, certainly on my Twitter feed the fact that the article was supposedly assuming an all-straight male readership wasn't really the issue — rather, it was the poor taste and seemingly rather pointless nature of the article on a site which is supposedly about video games.

But that got me to thinking. What is Kotaku really trying to do?

Then a theory hit me. It became obvious what Kotaku seemingly wants to do, despite its half-hearted attempts to be "inclusive" to everyone. It wants to be a "men's magazine" a la FHM, Maxim et al, but one that focuses on games. Were the site to be branded as such and have the confidence in its content to say "yes, we are specifically aiming at a straight male demographic" then articles like the above actually wouldn't be all that out of place. Those who didn't fit into that core demographic might not enjoy that sort of content, sure — but if the site was obvious enough about its intentions, it wouldn't provoke nearly as much ire.

There's precedent for this sort of thing, too. A good few years back now, there was a short-lived magazine from PC Zone and Maxim UK publisher Dennis known as Escape. It focused on video games, Internet culture and the Web's formative years alongside the usual scantily-clad ladies found in more "general interest" men's mags like its stablemate Maxim. It's a real shame it's not around any more. There's actually arguably a place for a publication like that on newsstands today.

Because you know what? It was pretty good. It brought together Things That Men Like under one convenient header. Games. The Web. Girls. Sports. "Alternative" culture. It took a few risks with its content, too; most memorable for me was the occasion when they quasi-scientifically attempted to test the theory that video games were better than sex by wiring up my brother to a heart monitor and then making him have sex, wank, talk to a stranger, play a video game and bungee jump. Surely a high point in his career. (Bungee jumping "won", by the way.)

I can't help but feel that the "blog/news aggregator" format for gaming sites has had its day, and that the way forward is for outlets to specialise both in their content and their core demographic. Video game culture is all-encompassing nowadays, covering men, women, kids, adults, straight, gay, trans, nerd, enthusiast, casual, PC, console, any combination of identifying characteristics you might name. As awesome as that is for the cultural penetration and acceptance of gaming as a mainstream medium, it does mean that you start to get to a stage where you can't please everyone. So why not focus on a specific demographic? If you're up-front and honest about being, say, a "men's" site and focusing on content as such, those people who have no interest in straight male-focused content can move on to any of the bajillion other sites out there (it's not as if we have a shortage, after all) while those who enjoy that sort of thing can stick around without feeling "guilt".

Some sites are already wise to this. We have GayGamer.net specifically choosing to cater its audience towards (I quote) "boys who like boys who like joysticks and girls who like girls who like rumble pads". We have Gamers With Jobs specifically catering towards the older gamer who doesn't necessarily have the time to play everything but enjoys some mature discussion. We have Girl Gamer, specifically aimed at female players. And doubtless there are numerous others catering specifically to other markets, too.

So why doesn't Kotaku bite the bullet and make a bold shift in editorial direction, specifically stating that it is going to court the straight gamer market above all else?

The answer is sadly probably the most simple one. Hits. By attempting to be "universally appealing" (and, as we've seen, often failing) Kotaku aims to get the largest possible audience of people who are just interested in "video games" as a general, amorphous concept. More hits means more advertising revenue means the site can continue to grow and be a household name in gamer culture. At the same time, controversies such as that which occurred yesterday over this article attract people to the site, in much the same way as the Daily Mail posts deliberately contentious headlines in order to direct outraged traffic their way. Any publicity is good publicity, as they say.

It's a cynical view, perhaps, but it's also not an unreasonable assumption to make given Kotaku's recent history. Consider, however, something that Arthur Gies of Vox Games said on Twitter last night:

You know what brings people to content? Good writing. You know what else brings people to content? Outrage. Which would you rather support?

There is a place and a demographic for content such as the Sonic the Hedgehog piece we saw yesterday. But that place is not on a site which purports to be universally appealing to all gamers.

The solution to this is one of rebranding and targeting that specific audience without guilt or apology — but sadly, I can't help but feel it's a bit too late for Kotaku now.