I listened to Dave Gorman’s audiobook Too Much Information the other day. I’ve been a fan of Dave Gorman’s intelligent comedy ever since I first saw his shows The Dave Gorman Collection and Googlewhack Adventure.
Gorman is a comedian who likes to use facts and evidence to back up the things he is talking about. In The Dave Gorman Collection, in which he travelled around the world seeking out other people called Dave Gorman, he took photographs of every meeting and recorded all manner of stats about his journey. In Googlewhack Adventure, in which he sought out people who had authored Googlewhacks — two-word search terms for which there is only a single result on Google — he again took copious notes and documentary evidence of his journey.
Too Much Information is one of Gorman’s most modern works, taking a look at the modern world and the sheer amount of noise we have to put up with on a daily basis. As you can probably imagine if you’ve been following me for a while, this sort of thing is right up my alley.
Gorman covers a variety of topics throughout Too Much Information, including beauty adverts with hilariously poor survey results in the small print at the bottom of the screen — one product had just 47% of its (admittedly small) sample agree that it was worthwhile — and misleading newspaper headlines. He also looks at how misinformation can spread throughout social media, and has a good rant about some of his favourite bugbears, such as “greatest hits” albums that have all-new tracks on them, and services such as Spotify assuming that we always want to be sharing everything we do with the rest of the world, even if it’s listening to The Wombles.
Too Much Information resonated with me a great deal, and it’s a book well worth getting hold of in one form or another. It worked well as an audiobook, as the whole thing is written in Gorman’s trademark “storytelling” style of comedy, which lends itself well to being recorded, but I can see it working just fine on paper, too.
While you’re on, if you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing Dave Gorman’s past work, do take the time to check out The Dave Gorman Collection, Dave Gorman’s Googlewhack Adventure and his most recent series on Dave, Dave Gorman’s Modern Life is Goodish. It’s a style of comedy that, so far as I’m aware, is unique to Gorman, and it’s particularly entertaining for those of us who enjoy facts and figures to go along with our funny words. His “Found Poems” in Modern Life is Goodish, constructed entirely of Internet comments sections, are particularly entertaining, and a good reminder of what a bizarre and ridiculous age we live in these days.
As I’ve mentioned a couple of times recently, I’ve been reading the Monster Musume manga as well as keeping up with the anime adaptation, and I’ve been enjoying both a great deal.
While Monster Musume is, on the surface, a somewhat pervy ecchi harem series with all the requisite sexual tension plus copious boob and panty shots (albeit attached to non-human girls with “monstrous” features), at its heart beats a heart of gold and a number of positive messages: accepting people for who they are without judgement; not relying on first impressions to figure people out; standing up for what you believe in; and forgiving people when they make a mistake, particularly if they make it while they’re trying to learn something new.
I find the monster girl angle particularly interesting. As I noted when I first started checking out the anime, I’m unfamiliar with the monster girl trope in general, so it was somewhat jarring to see these obviously non-human girls initially; they’ve clearly all been designed with traditionally attractive anime/manga character visual tropes in mind, but in most cases there’s just enough of the monstrous to make you feel a little uncomfortable if you’re not already au fait with taking a walk on the wild side.
In the case of Monster Musume, we have Miia’s extremely long snake tail, its companion clumsiness and her specifically snake-like characteristics such as her fangs and the fact she sheds her skin regularly; we have Papi’s bird legs and wings instead of arms attached to a distinctly young-looking body; we have the fact that Centorea’s arse is a horse (and her knockers are enormous); we have the fact that Suu is a slime girl who initially is completely unable to communicate through any means other than mimicking the things she has observed others doing; and, of course, we have Rachnea the spider-lady.
It’s interesting how the sequence in which these girls are introduced goes: although Miia is one of the more “monstrous” girls in a visual sense, in terms of character she’s probably the most “normal”, albeit rather more lovestruck than your average young woman. Papi is naive and innocent — considerably more stupid than her supposed actual age, with her intelligence and common sense more appropriate for her somewhat childlike appearance — and doesn’t quite fit in to “normal” society as a result, but is still reasonably recognisable as acting somewhat “human-like”. Centorea lives by some distinctly “fantasy world”-style values — all “honour” this, “my lord” that, plus her arse is a horse. Suu is in many ways the most “alien” of all the monster girls, at least in the early chapters; she has no idea that she regularly puts poor protagonist Kimihito at risk of drowning every time she embraced him a bit enthusiastically, and her initial inability to communicate puts her at a distinct disadvantage compared to the other girls (while also providing plenty of comic relief, as you might expect). Mero — who, so far, has been the least interesting, least developed character to me — presents an interesting take on attitudes to folklore by being obsessed with the tale of The Little Mermaid, but for its tragic angle rather than its romantic aspects.
In many way, though, Rachnera is one of the most interesting characters. In terms of visual design, being a spider woman, she’s the most obviously “non-human” of the lot; while Suu acts in an alien manner, she at least takes on humanoid form at the best of times. Rachnera, meanwhile, is quite literally an enormous spider with a woman’s upper half, and is consequently quite frightening to look at, particularly given how she’s introduced in some delightfully creepy scenes. Kimihito is true to his values, though, and doesn’t judge her by her appearance at all; when he first encounters her, he even appears largely dismissive of her monstrous nature and fetishises her spider legs, being a self-confessed “leg man”.
Rachnera is one of the most grounded, honest characters in Monster Musume, as it happens. She arguably acts in the most “adult” manner of the whole lot — though this can be taken in several ways, since not only is she mature in her attitudes and responses to situations, she’s also very sexually aggressive. More importantly, though, she’s completely at ease with herself, accepting both her monstrous nature (and all the difficulties that can sometimes cause) and her sexually adventurous side, particularly her predilection for bondage play, which a number of different cast members end up on the receiving end of with varying degrees of willingness.
To me, Rachnera was the most initially jarring monster girl to make an appearance — largely because I still haaaaate real spiders — but from what I’ve seen of her so far, she’s also one of the most likeable. She’s not necessarily the one I find the most attractive (I think that dubious honour goes to Miia) but, well, she does have a fine pair on her, and she’s an interesting character whom it would probably be fun — if, at times, unsettling — to hang out with.
I’m looking forward to the rest of the series and seeing how these characters develop. It’s easy to dismiss Monster Musume as cheap fanservice — as it is with many things that initially appear to be cheap fanservice — but as I’ve said, beneath the boobs and lamia panties (they’re stick-on!) and sexual assault by slime girls, it’s a delightful series with a wonderfully positive message.
I’m glad my friend Chris convinced me to check it out for myself, because without his wild enthusing about monster girls, I would have probably thought I’d be too squicked out by the girls’ more monstrous aspects to enjoy it. But, as it turns out, it’s not at all difficult to start accepting people just as people, regardless of what their extremities look like…
Since I was getting really quite frustrated with my daily commute to and from work — there is no good time of the day where you can set out and head back without getting caught in a traffic jam with seemingly no cause — I decided to try something a bit different with my audio entertainment for said journey.
Rather than listening to the radio, with its same five adverts and playlist of approximately twelve songs, or the same albums on my phone over and over again, I decided to listen to some audiobooks.
I’ve listened to audiobooks a few times over the years, most recently when I was in the habit (that I should probably get back into) of taking a long walk most days. They provide a good accompaniment to tedious activities like walking or driving, and I’ve found they’ve had a positive effect on my mood overall, even when the M27 is at its most frustrating. The fact that I can tune out the fact I’m moving at approximately 15mph on a road designed to be travelled along at 70mph+ and instead concentrate on an unfolding narrative is pleasurable, and getting to spend more time immersing myself in a story becomes nice rather than frustrating.
The audiobooks I’ve been listening to most recently belong to a genre I haven’t read a lot of in the past: crime fiction. I can’t remember how I first came on to the Kay Scarpetta series by Patricia Cornwell, but I’ve been enjoying them so far: I’m currently about a third of the way through the third book.
For the unfamiliar, the Kay Scarpetta series follows the eponymous heroine, the chief medical examiner for Virginia, and her obligatory “buddy” cop Pete Marino. The two have an enjoyable working relationship and rapport with one another, Kay being rather sensible for the most part — with occasional lapses in judgement and a tendency to attract the main villain of each book to cause some sort of dramatic final confrontation in the closing chapters — and Marino being brash, outspoken and not always entirely tactful.
The stories are interesting when compared to other crime fiction I’ve encountered — be it in books, on TV, in games or in movies — in that the main focus isn’t on the police investigation, the work of an agent on the case or a private investigator. Rather, Kay is essentially a civilian, albeit one with access to information about the corpses that show up in each novel that the public would probably rather not know about. This doesn’t stop her ending up embroiled deep in the mysteries, however, and indeed it’s usually her actions that, if they don’t outright solve the case altogether, certainly put into motion a chain of events that draws the main villain out of hiding (and usually into Kay’s bedroom) in order to be caught and/or killed.
They’re formulaic and somewhat predictable at times, in other words, but they’re filled with interesting characters, and the narrator for the audiobook versions, one Lorelei King, does an admirable job at putting on unique voices for the different characters — even if all her “male” voices tend to end up sounding terribly serious about everything they say… or perhaps this is a side-effect of Cornwell’s male characters?
Anyway. I’m enjoying the experience of listening to audiobooks, and I’ve been enjoying discovering a series of entertaining crime novels in the process. There’s plenty more where that came from, too, so I should be kept reasonably sane on my journeys to and from work for the immediate future, at least…
Sue Townsend apparently died today. As with any “celebrity” (or at least well-known person) death, I’m not sure whether I really feel “sad” about this, but it’s certainly the end of an era, and I definitely have some very fond memories of her work.
The Adrian Mole books that she wrote are, I think, the books I’ve re-read the most number of times in my life. When I first acquired copies of the first two books — battered old hand-me-downs with pages falling out; copies that I imagine used to belong to my brother — I had literally no idea what to expect. I didn’t even know whether Adrian Mole was a person or some sort of anthropomorphized Wind in the Willows-style character.
It wasn’t very long before I was hooked. I started reading them at just the right age, and managed to catch the subsequent books at similarly relevant points throughout my life. While I’ve enjoyed the whole series over time, I feel that the first two books in particular — The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 and The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole — remain the highlights for me. I retain, to this day, something of a fascination with teenage life; a fascination that I can continually indulge thanks to anime, TV shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all manner of other media. I think it’s the whole “coming of age” thing that appeals to me; seeing people go through genuinely formative experiences and changing as a result.
The events that transpire in the Adrian Mole books are all rather mundane in nature, but help to shape Adrian into the person he later becomes. While he ends up not exactly realising a lot of his potential in later life, he remains, for the most part, a relatable character with whom I often found myself identifying, particularly in the early books. His feeling of slight detachment from the rest of the world, particularly when it came to being “cool”, making friends or talking to girls, was something that I also found myself experiencing, and while I stopped short of considering myself an “intellectual” at the age of 13, there were times that I felt I could have been writing that secret diary myself.
In fact, I did write several secret diaries over the years, beginning shortly after when I read the Adrian Mole books. Sadly, all of these (to my knowledge, anyway) have been lost to the mists of time, usually because I ended up writing something that embarrassed myself so much that I threw the whole thing away so there was absolutely no risk of anyone else ever having the chance of stumbling across it. I kind of regret that now; much as I regularly like browsing back over my entries on this blog — the Random Post button at the top is a vaguely fun time if you have nothing better to do — I also liked looking back over old diaries and reading my thoughts and feelings about things. During my teenage years, entries were often about girls and my various feelings towards them, inevitably unrequited. During my university years, entries were often about girls, too, but also, I feel, sparked the beginning of my coming to understand my own anxiety and depression issues — issues that I’m still coming to terms with today.
If nothing else, writing down thoughts and feelings about things — even the most mundane things — can prove to be an enormously cathartic experience. I know that the fact my romantic (and, uh, erotic) feelings towards several girls in high school were inevitably unrequited was made somewhat easier to deal with by having that “release” of writing down how I felt about these things at times; and when I tried my hand at writing a diary again a couple of times during my university studies, it proved to be similarly helpful.
What I’m doing with this blog is, for the most part, the same thing; the difference here is that it’s public and digital rather than scrawled in biro and hidden under my mattress. Regular readers will know I’m pretty open about a lot of things, though, and the world hasn’t ended as a result; perhaps if someone had inadvertently stumbled across those secret diaries — or, if they did, spoken up about them — it wouldn’t have been all that bad.
Or perhaps it could have been the most mortifying experience in the world. I guess we’ll never know, now.
Oh, and if, by any chance, through some twisting and turning of the worldlines, my 14-year old self ends up reading this? Give up on Nikki, mate; she’s well out of your league.
Over the intervening years since leaving home, I’ve either discarded or left behind a lot of the trappings of childhood. But one of the things that has constantly travelled with me is my modest collection of Asterix books — by no means complete, not by a long shot, but consisting of a number of adventures I occasionally like to revisit.
For those unfamiliar with Asterix — I’m not sure how well known it is these days — it was (is?) a series of full-length comic book stories based in the era of the Roman occupation of Gaul, circa 50 BC. Originally composed by French duo Goscinny and Uderzo and subsequently translated into a variety of different languages around the world, the stories combine a certain degree of real-life ancient history with material that is played purely for laughs to ridiculous effect. Central to all the stories are the eponymous protagonist Asterix, a cunning Gaul who is usually entrusted with his village’s most important matters, and his overweight, somewhat dim friend Obelix who fell into a cauldron of magic potion as a baby and was consequently blessed with permanent superhuman strength.
The books range from relatively small-scale adventures in which Asterix and his friends defend the village from the Roman encampments that surround them to grand adventures that see the indomitable Gauls heading off to places such as India and the Middle East. Elements of sci-fi and fantasy — usually in the form of magic — are incorporated into some of the later books, but the emphasis is always on vaguely plausible but ridiculous situations that poke fun at modern society through the lens of ancient Roman times.
A particularly identifiable characteristic of the English translations — I can’t speak for the other languages — is the sheer number of utterly cringeworthy puns used throughout, usually in the form of character names. Asterix and Obelix are pretty self-explanatory, but they’re joined by village chief Vitalstatistix, druid Getafix, blacksmith Fulliautomatix, fishmonger Unhygienix, bard Cacofonix and numerous others. The female Gaulish characters have similarly unsubtle names — Vitalstatistix’s wife is called Impedimenta, for example — as do the Romans, who usually have amusing Latin names of some description. One story features a centurion called Cumulo Nimbus, for example, while another features an athletic legionary called Gluteus Maximus.
The books are filled with visual gags, too, not just in the panels’ artwork, but in elements such as typesetting and fonts, too. An Egyptian adventure in which Asterix and friends visit Cleopatra, for example, features a number of sequences in which Egyptian characters “speak” in hieroglyphics, for example, while in Asterix and the Great Crossing, which sees Asterix and Obelix initially accidentally discovering America and subsequently coming into contact with some Viking explorers on the way home, the language barrier between the Gauls and the Vikings is represented by the latter adding stereotypically “Scandinavian” punctuation to the things they’re saying. It’s a visual equivalent of the TV series Allo Allo representing characters speaking in different languages through different accents, essentially.
What I’ve been most surprised about on this most recent revisiting of the few Asterix books I do own is the fact that they hold up very well despite, in some cases, dating back to the 1960s. Not all humour ages terribly well and indeed there are certain elements of the Asterix books that clearly come from a, shall we say, somewhat unenlightened age, particularly when it comes to depictions of people of non-white races, but to be honest, there’s a certain appeal to the fact that the early books in particular just don’t give a toss about political correctness and end up being often darkly hilarious as a result.
I’ve never got around to expanding my collection since leaving home, but I’ve now read the few Asterix books I do own so many times to know them pretty much inside out. Perhaps I should look into getting some of the ones I’ve never read — if these ones hold up well enough, then it’d be a pleasure to read some completely new ones that I don’t know at all.
Hello! I’m back. Yes, it’s me. You know, Pete. The guy who runs this blog. I’m not writing in character or being creative any more. Well, I am being creative. Sort of. Just not in quite the same way I spent the last month. It’s back to my normal ramblings from now.
It occurs to me every so often that I write an absolute buttload of words every day. Seriously, if we could power the world on words, I could probably power a small city on the number of words I produce each day. I don’t have to produce this many words each day, as only a portion of them are for paid employment but, you know, I like it. So I do it in my spare time, too. You probably knew that already, particularly if you’ve been following this blog for even a fraction of the 1,048 days I’ve been writing daily nonsense, or if you’ve been good enough to check out what I’ve been doing with the rest of the team over at Games Are Evil.
Occasionally I get the urge to write something for a purpose a little bit less amorphous than that of this blog, and consider writing a novel, or a game, or something else with lots of words in. Unless I specifically set myself a target, though, those things can and do fall by the wayside. My hard drive and Google Docs account are filled with half-finished (or barely-started) novels; I have at least a few awesome game intros that I’ve made, too. (There’s also one three hour-long game called The Adventures of Dave Thunder that was lost to a catastrophic computer failure a few years back, which I’ve never quite forgiven Sony for, even if it was my own fault for not backing the bastard up.)
Recently, a games writer released a 50,000 word ebook on the subject of a single video game. I’m not a big fan of the writer in question, to be honest — and no, there shall be no bitchy blog post explaining why, they just rub me up the wrong way — so I have very little intention of actually reading (let alone purchasing) said book. However, what I have found is that the mere existence of this ebook has given me a bit of a nudge to start on something that I’ve been considering doing for a while. Said nudge is a result of the ineffable law of Well If They Can Do It I Certainly Can Too combined with the fact that I knocked out over 50,000 words of creative writing over the course of the last month without breaking too much of a sweat. Which is nice.
This is what I’m going to do: I’m going to write a book on the subject of the visual novel medium. Regular readers will know that I’m hugely enamoured with this largely Japanese subgenre of gaming, and you may even check in regularly on my weekly “READ.ME” column on Games Are Evil each Sunday. The visual novel medium has a lot in common with anime, but is very much its own distinct thing. And there are books on anime out there — so why not visual novels?
READ.ME is by far my favourite thing to write each week (scathing reviews of particularly awful mobile apps aside) and thus I figured it’s a natural extension to 1) write more about something that I genuinely love and 2) spend some time delving deeper into the background of the medium and its cultural context. Rather than focusing on a single game for the entire book — which is probably possible in many cases, given the depth of their narratives — I have decided to take a “collected essays” approach in which I tackle a selection of different titles, each of which exemplifies a particular theme, narrative style or tone. This gives me the excuse to play a wide variety of different titles as well as write more about the ones that I’ve already played (and, in some cases, written about) to death. It also means that the complete project can be broken down into smaller, more easily-manageable targets rather than being a single, daunting task.
So yeah. That’s the plan. I’ve already started, having bashed out 2,500 words on Kana Little Sister today (with more to come when I’ve seen its other endings) and lined up several other chapters while their subject matter is fresh in my mind. We’ll see how it goes. To Scrivener!
One of the things I always find most memorable about any story I experience, be it a book, TV show, movie, anime or game, is the characters. If the characters aren’t interesting, chances are I’m not going to get hooked in. It’s the reason I usually cite as to why I loved the open-world adventuring of Xenoblade Chronicles but find Bethesda role-playing games and most MMOs rather tiresome after a while, but it applies to pretty much any medium.
As such, I would like to present to you a randomly-chosen selection of five of my favourite characters that have popped into my head immediately upon attempting to think of my favourite characters. If that makes sense. I make no apologies for the fact that some or all of these are likely to be big-eyed anime or computer game people.
Grace (Gabriel Knight)
Most people cite Tim Curry’s memorable portrayal of the lewd, womanising bookshop owner in Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers as the highlight of that game, but the unsung heroine of the piece is most definitely Grace Nakamura, his long-suffering assistant.
Grace is a realistic female character in that she’s not there to be eye candy, she’s not there to be a useless sidekick hanging on everything the hero does and she actually has a personality. She doesn’t take any shit from Gabriel, and you’d better believe that he regularly gives her shit — his always-rejected advances are a highlight of their interactions, and yet it’s clear that the pair of them do, in fact, care deeply for one another, otherwise Grace would have been out the door long ago.
The exact nature of Grace and Gabriel’s relationship, at least in the first game, is kept deliberately rather ambiguous. Grace often acts as something of a mother figure towards Gabriel, though it’s never quite clear if she actually wants to “tame” him or simply sand down a few of his rough edges. Gabriel is certainly receptive to the things she says and appreciates the hard work she puts in for him — and yet the clear sexual tension between the two of them goes unresolved. Proof that you can have two characters of the opposite sex to one another without them ending up in a predictable love scene.
Angel (Buffy, Angel)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its spin-off series Angel remain two of my favourite TV shows of all time. David Boreanaz’s brooding vampire Angel appears in both, but really comes into his own when he gets his own series.
It would have been easy for Whedon and the gang to leave Angel as your stereotypical brooding vampire, haunted by his past and trying to make amends for deeds that can never be forgiven. And indeed for many of his appearances early in Buffy, he’s little more than that, providing a convenient “forbidden love” interest for Buffy while allowing the show to explore some traditional vampire themes.
In Angel, however, he cuts loose and we get to see him for who he really is. Sure, he broods and spends a lot of time sitting in the dark — something that is regularly commented upon by his companions — but he also does a fine line in completely deadpan one-liners.
Also, this.
Incidentally, a comment on that YouTube video reads thus: “I always thought Angel was a ponce in the first three season of Buffy…then He moved to L.A. L.A. changes people.”
Kyoko, as you can probably tell from the image above, does not give a shit what people think of her, and she’s immensely entertaining as a result. She’s often the instigator of the various scrapes the group gets into, and her hyperactivity is a big part of what gives the show so much energy. Part of her appeal comes from the fact that her blonde-haired, blue-eyed appearance sets her up to be “the pretty one” and she then subverts stereotypical expectations completely with her wild and crazy behaviour.
At the same time, though, she’s a dedicated friend and companion, and the whole “possibly unrequited love” thing going on between her and the huggably tsundere student council vice president Ayano (whom I also considered including on this list, but settled on making her my Facebook avatar instead) is another big draw for those who enjoy seeing blushing anime girls simpering at one another and then denying their feelings vehemently. I-It’s not like Ayano wants to spend every waking moment with Kyoko or anything, after all! Idiot!
Seiko (Corpse Party)
Seiko was one of my favourite characters from Corpse Party, a game with an incredibly well-defined and interesting cast all round. The best thing about Seiko, though, was how self-consciously “not girly” she was. She’s open, honest, brash, crass and, a bit like Kyoko, does not give a damn what people think of her. At the same time, she’s cheerful and does her best to keep the people around her in high spirits, even as they are trapped in a horrifying, terrifying situation from which there appears to be no escape.
It becomes clear after only spending a short amount of time with her in the game that she has a number of deep bonds with her friends — particularly with the character Naomi, for whom it’s rather strongly implied that she’s harbouring romantic and/or sexual feelings.
To say too much more about Seiko would probably be to spoil Corpse Party more than I’m willing to, but suffice to say that she’s a definite highlight of the game. And, oh look! Corpse Party is half-price on the PlayStation Store (PSP and Vita) right now. You should go and buy it if you have a Sony handheld, otherwise I’m not sure we can be friends any more.
Polgara (Belgariad, Malloreon)
David Eddings’ Belgariad and Malloreon series are rather traditional pulp fantasy novels in many ways, but a few aspects of them cause me to remember them fondly — and I’ve even re-read the whole set of books several times, which is not something I normally do.
One of these aspects is Polgara the sorceress. For those unfamiliar with Eddings’ epics, they follow a relatively traditional pattern in which an unassuming young farmhand named Garion gradually gathers a party of various ne’er-do-wells and, through various combinations of circumstances — spoiler! — becomes incredibly powerful, battles against an evil god and wins.
One of Garion’s constant companions throughout the entire series is his “Aunt Pol,” who has been a constant presence in his life since childhood. It transpires that “Pol” is actually Polgara, a four thousand year old sorceress and daughter of Belgarath, sorcerer of legend and he who recovered the mystical artifact The Orb of Aldur from — look, let’s just say he’s Kind of a Big Deal, all right?
The reason Polgara is interesting is not because she’s a kick-ass sorceress, though, it’s the fact that she’s a very well fleshed-out character with a hell of a lot of hidden depth. Garion learning the truth behind her heritage in the Belgariad is just the tip of the iceberg — Eddings went on to publish two additional books known as Belgarath the Sorcerer and Polgara the Sorceress which explained the ancient magicians’ history in exhaustive detail, giving the entire world in which the two series were set an extremely strong feeling of being a “real” — or at least believable — place. Polgara and Belgarath’s constant presence throughout the world’s history give you something to latch on to as millenia tick by in the pages of the books — and yet both of them remain entertainingly “human” despite their obvious… non-humanness.
____
That was fun. I’ll do this again sometimes soon. I won’t ask what your favourite characters are, because no-one ever replies when I end a blog post with a question. I’ll just say good night and leave it at that!
Can you have too much culture? Can the sum of human creative endeavours add up to too much for someone to take in?
Well, first of all, those are two different questions. The answer to the second one, at least, is “yes”; the former? I’m not so sure.
We’re already at a point where there is so much Stuff in the world it’s impossible to keep on top of it all. Whatever media you’re into, be it books, movies, TV shows, music or games, there’s enough Stuff out there to keep you entertained probably for the rest of your life in just one of those formats, let alone if you, like most people, spread your time between several. Even if you spend your time focusing entirely on one genre within a single medium, you’ll never get to the bottom of the pile. You’ll never “finish” culture. You’ll never see everything there is to see.
Depending on your outlook, this is either a fantastic thing or incredibly depressing news. For many, there’s a degree of “shame” over not having caught up on things that are supposedly “canonical” or “essential” for everyone to have read/seen/played/whatever. The very term “pile of shame” (from which the Squadron of Shame takes its name) is used to refer to one’s backlog of entertainment that has been purchased but not consumed — or, in some cases, the definition is stretched a little to include Stuff that the owner of said pile intends to consume at some point in the future, but perhaps hasn’t quite got around to just yet.
With books, it’s fine. Books are passed down from generation to generation; republished and republished. Today, we can keep a book alive forever by converting it to a digital format and scattering it to the four corners of the Internet. Sure, you lose some of the joy of turning paper pages and that distinctive musty smell they have, but at least the important bit — that’s the work printed on those pages, lest you forget — is immortalised. You can read it on your computer; on your tablet device; on your e-reader; on your phone. You can annotate it and share your thoughts with other people around the world in an instant. Books are just fine.
Music, too, has proven itself to be pretty timeless over the years — for the most part, anyway. Throughout history there has been plenty of “disposable” music, but the true greats endure for years. Look how long the works of Bach and Mozart have lasted — people are still listening to, performing and studying these pieces hundreds of years after they were first composed. In more recent years, look at how the music of artists such as Elvis Presley and the Beatles is still interesting and relevant today. In very recent years… well, it remains to be seen which artists (if any) will leave a lasting legacy on culture, but there will almost certainly be some. (And if there’s any justice, it won’t be anyone who has ever won or been involved with The X-Factor.)
Movies, too, have become increasingly timeless with the improvements in technology over the years. While once a movie only lasted as long as the medium on which it was physically printed, now, like books, we can archive and keep movies forever. Sure, some moviemaking techniques now look antiquated and are unpalatable to modern audiences, but those truly interested in the full history of the medium can trawl back as far as they wish and see how it has developed.
Games, though, are arguably a bit more tricky, as they have an inherent “expiry date” due to the numerous proprietary technologies involved. While emulation technology is getting better all the time, it’s still not perfect, and the legal grey areas surrounding it make it something that some people prefer to shy away from altogether. When you consider “PC” games, too, there’s even titles that are ostensibly on the same platform that will no longer run on more modern technology. Fortunately, there are places like GOG.com who aim to keep these titles alive for modern audiences, but eventually even their remastered, tweaked versions will “expire” as technology makes the next big leap forward. What happens when computers become wearable and we don’t use TVs any more? Will we still be able to play classic titles designed for the flat screen?
With all this, it’s easy to wonder how you can possibly get through all those things that you’re “supposed” to watch/read/see. The answer is surprisingly simple: don’t. Accept the fact that you’re never going to read Great Expectations; you’re never going to see Citizen Kane; you’re never going to listen to anything by The Smiths; you’re never going to get caught up on the Assassin’s Creed series. Cherry-pick the stuff you’re interested in, finish what you start, and don’t feel obliged to jump in to things just because they’re brand new and everyone is talking about them right now. Get to them when you have time to appreciate them rather than rushing through them in the ultimately futile attempt to feel “relevant”.
Crucially, enjoy (or at least appreciate) the culture you consume, whatever medium it’s in. Your tastes are your own, and no-one has the right to try and change them. People can share their own opinions, sure, and these may help sway your thoughts one way or the other, but ultimately your feelings about the things you like and dislike are entirely up to you. There’s no “correct” opinion; no gold standard of cultural awareness you need to aspire to; no “checklist” to complete. The sooner you recognise this fact, the sooner you can get on with working your way through that “pile of shame” — because there’s some great stuff in there that you haven’t discovered yet. And the stuff that is shiny and new right now will still be here in a few years time.
Take your time. Enjoy it. It’s the least you can do for the people who have invested their time, money, blood, sweat and tears into entertaining you.
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!)
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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.
Do you think your own life story would make for an interesting read? Playing Katawa Shoujo rather extensively today has made me give some consideration to the thought, since that game, despite its distinctive — perhaps even unique — premise (“This is a game about disabled girls”) is in fact simply about human relationships and real life struggles. There’s no “epicness” whatsoever; the world doesn’t come to an end; there’s no “save the princess” (except metaphorically speaking in a few instances) — it’s just about normal people (albeit normal people with disabilities) living their lives.
When I think back on my own life, there are certainly plenty of interesting stories there for the telling, and given that we human beings are creatures of habit, often doomed to make the same mistakes over and over, it’s fairly unlikely that there’s nobody out there who could relate to some of them.
This makes the concept of autobiographies an interesting one. The shelves in ailing book retailers such as Smith’s and Waterstone’s are crammed with celebrity “autobiographies” (and I use the term loosely, since a large proportion of them are ghost-written), all called things like My Story, My Struggle or My Tits. (I made the last one up, but it’s arguably what anything written by Katie Price should be called, given the thing that most people seem to know her for.)
The thing is, though, I almost feel like I’d rather read the autobiography of someone who hasn’t led a remarkable life. Someone who hasn’t shot to stardom, done something remarkable with their life. It works for fictional narratives, as anyone who has read Generation X by Douglas Coupland will attest — a narrative in which nothing happens (relatively speaking) means that you can focus more on the people and their reactions to everyday, relatable situations and then, crucially, compare your own experiences and prejudices to the same situations. This is something that you simply can’t do with most celebrity works — they live in such a different world to the rest of us, almost like caricatures or fictional characters.
The “fiction” part of celebrities is arguably at least partly true. Their public perception is something which is carefully managed and controlled by their publicists. The truth behind their lives is often a lot more mundane, but by extension, more relatable. The trouble is, the only time we ever see that mundane everyday life is through the snooping lens of a paparazzi, or in some cringeworthy ITV documentary showing Peter Andre having a wank or something. The very nature of their celebrity makes them feel different, makes observing them doing “natural” things feel like an alien thing to do. Celebrity Big Brother proves this particularly aptly by being actually rather boring. In this case, it’s because they’re in an artificial situation where they’re forced to be mundane, and this, once again, is merely a fictional representation of a real life.
Normal (i.e. non-celebrity) people, though, the non-player characters of society? Those are the ones I’d be interested in reading about. Whether it’s the story of how they got into a fight with their supposed best friend at school over what one of them assumed was light-hearted teasing and the other one took to heart, or the tale of how they met their partner. Truth and real life is sometimes far stranger than fiction, and it’s worth remembering that sometimes.
I’m not sure what my point is, to be honest. I don’t think I’m planning on writing an autobiography (though certain fragments of this blog stray into that territory sometimes, admittedly) but I feel like doing so in one form or another might be an interesting experience. Perhaps writing fictionalised stories based on real-life experiences? It’s something I’ve toyed with the idea of before, but have always shied away from for fear of people connecting the dots too much and making judgements about things I’ve been through.
That said, despite my shyness in a lot of social situations, I’m generally pretty up-front with talking about past struggles if given the opportunity to do so, so perhaps it might not be such a terrible idea to do, after all. The truest, most resonant creative works come from the creator tapping into their own personal well of past experiences and pain.
Anyone reading this tapped into the contents of their own soul and memory and come up with something great?
