1175: Stream of Rubbish

I'm really not at all sure what to write about tonight, so I'm going to indulge in some "freewriting", if you'll pardon me. For those unaware, "freewriting" is where you just start writing and keep going for a set period of time without stopping or going back to correct the things you've done in order to make them make sense. (When freewriting on the computer, I find it very difficult to break my normal habits of automatically correcting typos for the most part, so I am allowing myself that small indulgence, but otherwise this post will be pure, bona fide stream-of-consciousness bullshit. I hope you enjoy. And if you don't… well, I don't really care all that much as it's 11:33 in the evening and I'd quite like to go to bed. I should probably close these brackets and finish this paragraph sometime soon, huh.)

Anyway. What is happening right now? Not a lot, because it's 11:33 in the evening and I'd quite like to go to bed, as previously mentioned. I am sitting in front of my Mac frantically typing this blog post while Andie is sitting in the other room watching Family Guy on BBC Three. This must be at least the sixth or seventh time I've heard the whole series go around and around and around and I'm never quite sure how I feel about it. Family Guy can be quite entertaining, but it's one of those things that it seems to be quite fashionable to bash on these days, so I'm never quite sure if I'm supposed to like it or not. I do know that I like it rather less now that it's been around and around so many times. Certain things remain entertaining on repeat viewings — as I've previously said elsewhere on this blog, for me Friends is one of those shows that I can watch over and over again without getting tired of it for the most part — but for me, Family Guy is a bit of a one-trick pony, particularly when they start pulling the "remember the time when" etc etc jokes where they cut away to something HILARIOUS that probably didn't really happen. What a hoot!

I'm going to stop talking about Family Guy now and think of something else to say. But what? Hmm. How about food? Today we went out for lunch with my parents to Yo! Sushi in WestQuay. I'm a big fan of Yo! Sushi even if it is a bit expensive, really. Go on Sunday, though, and it's an all-you-can-eat for £20 sort of affair, though, so if you leave plenty of room you can ensure you get your money's worth. I really like the food there, too. It's tasty. I'm sure it's not quite up to the standard of a "proper" sushi restaurant, but it's certainly very tasty and a bit different from the normal sort of things that you get around the place.

I can still hear Family Guy and it's a little bit distracting. I will try and maintain my concentration. I set a goal for myself to keep writing non-stop for ten minutes and I'm about halfway through at this point. Lucy the rat is currently running rather aggressively on the wheel in her cage — I can hear, not see her — so I will have to go and check on her in a bit. I like our rats. They are friendly. Lara likes to run up the sleeve of my dressing gown, which is very amusing except when she does a wee in my armpit. To be fair to her, she has only done that once, but it was not very nice.

Anyway, I believe I was talking about sushi before I got distracted by Family Guy. One of the things I like at Yo! Sushi is takoyaki — octopus dumplings which various Japanese video games taught me about the existence of. (I'm specifically thinking of the takoyaki stand people hang out at in Persona 3, but the game I'm currently playing on the DS, Lifesigns, also features a lot of mentions of takoyaki). For some reason, mentioning something repeatedly like that really makes me want to investigate it and try it for myself — and hey, what do you know? Turns out that takoyaki is pretty tasty, though I'm not sure it was quite what I expected when I first had it. I recommend you try it. I didn't have it today because by the time it came around on the conveyor belt at Yo! Sushi, we were already pretty full on everything else we'd eaten. Another time, dear octopus balls, another time.

One more minute to go. Can I break a thousand words by the time that minute passes? Probably not. I'd have to type a little bit quicker than I am typing right now. I can type pretty quickly, but I'm not sure I can type 250 words in a minute. That would be pretty speedy. Superhuman speedy, in fact.

Oh, time's up. Time to go. I apologise for the disjointed, dumb nature of this blog post but I thought I'd do that instead of babbling on about Ar Tonelico II again. (I'll get back to that tomorrow! Just kidding! Maybe.) Anyway. Time for bed. Good night.

1169: Suffering Fools

The Internet has ruined April Fools' Day.

That's the sentiment that seems to have been prevalent on social media for most of today. And to be fair, it has. Between Operation Rainfall's teasing of games that will never exist (Catherine 2, The Last Story II, Theatrhythm Deus Ex) to the utterly cringeworthy press release I received earlier claiming that Doodle Jump is becoming a Broadway show (seriously, guys, 1) Doodle Jump hasn't been relevant for several years now, and 2) try harder) it's been a thoroughly irritating day to be online. Thankfully, a significant proportion of the press seems to have grown up a bit and is refusing to play along with these shenanigans, but there's just as many reputable publications putting out exceedingly lame "jokes" that they really should know better than to post. The Guardian producing special liberal glasses that block Richard Littlejohn columns? Hilarious. The New Statesman rebranding entirely in Comic Sans? Oh, help me, Doctor Tendo, for my sides have split.

Thinking about it, though, I'm not sure April Fools' Day has ever been particularly… well, fun. Sure, the stuff Google comes up with is often mildly amusing, but for the most part it seems to be a day where people think that lying as much as possible is an adequate substitute for being genuinely entertaining. That's sort of mean when you think about it, really.

I'm trying to think back to a time before the Internet (yes, young 'uns, we did live in such dark times once) and whether or not April Fools' Day was fun then. I have a peculiar feeling that it wasn't. I recall a time at school when everyone suddenly and inexplicably learned the word "gullible" simultaneously for some dark purpose, and it was a hellish few weeks of people making up outlandish stories and then jeering "HAAHAHHAAH GULLIBLE" and running away if you even looked like you were about to say "really?" April Fools' Day is just like that, really. An opportunity for unfunny twats to be particularly unfunny twats and think they're being Comedy Gods.

I know it's all a bit of fun and I shouldn't be so grumpypants about it. But as with so many things on the Internet, oversaturation leads to cynicism and active dislike. And over the last few years, we've seen so many painfully obvious April Fools' Day jokes that it's just a bit old now. By far the most laughable example was the Doodle Jump press release I mentioned earlier — that actually really made me quite cross, though I restrained myself from rebuking the sender with a tersely-worded response — but that's far from an isolated example.

To quote my former editor Mr Jason Wilson: "Journalism isn't about jokes. No one for a journalistic site should be making up shit. No one at a PR agency should be, either. Send me that BS and you go straight into my 'you suck at PR' folder."

Quite. The news is enough of a disorganised mess in which it's a nightmare for some stories to get noticed anyway; quit cluttering these channels up with your made-up crap. It's not big, it's not clever and it's not funny.

This has been your Grouch for the day. Tomorrow I will write about something nice.

1166: The Invader Comes from the Bottom of the Sea!

It's been a while since I talked anime here, so I'm going to talk anime. Oh yes indeedy. Specifically, I'd like to talk about a bizarre little show I've just started watching called Squid Girl, also known as Ika Musume.

Squid Girl is a rather peculiar show in a number of ways. Firstly, it's not quite "episodic" in the same manner as other anime series, though there is a sense of progression throughout. Instead of being a sequence of 20-minute episodes, each "episode" of Squid Girl is instead made up of three short self-contained mini-stories that tend not to have a great deal to do with each other besides having the same core cast. However, the whole thing does have a clear chronology, since characters, concepts and settings introduced in earlier episodes tend to show up again later rather than being "one-shots". I haven't watched far enough to know exactly how it all ties together — if at all — yet, but already in the four full episodes I have watched we've seen the introduction of certain characters and their subsequent return — and I'm sure there'll be more to come.

Secondly is the concept, which anime pros probably won't bat an eyelid at, but which those used to more… "conventional" Western entertainment might find a little bizarre. As you might expect from a show called Squid Girl, the main character is a girl who shares a number of characteristics with squid. Specifically, her blue hair is actually a set of ten tentacles which she can manipulate independently at will, her hat causes the shape of her head to resemble that of a squid (and removing it will apparently kill her) and she is able to spew squid ink from her mouth. She also has the abilities of various different types of squid, including luminescence, the ability to change her weight at will and flapping the… flappy bits on her hat. The English subtitles and dub also see her making frequent squid- and tentacle-themed puns in her dialogue, while in Japanese she tends to end her sentences with "de geso" (translated literally, something to do with squid legs) similar to how super-cute moe characters often deliberately overuse or exaggerate the "desu" or "desu no" final particle (see Compa and Gust from Hyperdimension Neptunia for good examples), and she also tends to emphasise the syllables "ika" ("squid") in her speech whenever they come up, regardless of whether or not doing so would really make sense. (Aside: I love finding out about the equivalent of puns and the like in other languages, as I do often find myself wondering how non-English languages deal with jokes, slang, dialect and puns like this. It's fascinating to learn this stuff through things I enjoy.)

The basic premise of the show sees Squid Girl coming ashore ostensibly to subjugate all of humanity in revenge for the shitty way they've treated the ocean, but she instead finds herself forced into working as a waitress at a beachfront restaurant when an outburst and demonstration of her "power" ends up smashing through the wall. The various mini-stories that make up the episodes depict Squid Girl learning more about human society and what a "normal" life is, and much of the humour comes from her complete unawareness of how to behave like a human despite resembling one for the most part. There's also a huge amount of comedy value inherent in her interactions with the owners of the beachfront restaurant she damaged, who seem completely unperturbed by the fact that she is obviously not human and each have their own distinct characters and means of dealing with the girl-shaped hurricane that is Squid Girl. Eiko is slightly weary and a little tsundere but tolerates Squid Girl for the most part. Her sister Chizuru, meanwhile, initially appears to be the stereotypical quiet, demure and kind "older sister" type, but reveals herself very early on to have a distinctly dark side that utterly terrifies poor old Squid Girl. In actual fact, this "dark side" is not truly threatening or unpleasant — it's simply the ability to perform a "withering look" that is the Holy Grail for parents and teachers alike, but which is often depicted as a horrifying dark aura from Squid Girl's perspective. Even as Squid Girl tries to convince herself that she's still going to subjugate humanity, she quickly learns not to step out of line when Chizuru is around.

For the most part, Squid Girl is thoroughly silly fun, and I frankly wasn't expecting much more than something fairly throwaway to watch while I had breakfast and then forget about shortly afterwards. However, one of the mini-stories I watched earlier well and truly changed my mind and convinced me that this is actually a show doing some surprisingly clever things. I shan't spoil it completely for those who are planning on watching the show, but I'll just say that the "mini-Squid Girl" vignette — which was depicted almost completely wordlessly — was surprisingly heartfelt and touching, and I was very surprised to realise that even after just a few episodes, I already cared very much about these characters.

I shouldn't have been surprised, really; one of the things that continually strikes me about Japanese media the more of it I consume — be it video game, anime or manga — is the deft skill with which creators are often able to weave their magic to create compelling characters and make you care about them remarkably quickly. Squid Girl, as ridiculous as it sounds on paper, is certainly no exception to that, and I look forward to seeing the rest of this surprisingly captivating nonsense.

1165: Endless Infinite Discussion

Around this time of year in 2011, one Mr Tom Ohle, a fine upstanding gentleman at the forefront of promoting games you might not have heard of quite so much as the games you have heard of a lot, wrote this post, named The Case of the Great Game Nobody Saw.

Lest you're too lazy to follow the link, allow me to summarise: Tom works in PR for video games. The titles his company Evolve PR has represented over the years include things like CD Projekt Red's The Witcher series, the deep strategy games of Paradox Interactive, TimeGate Studios' Section 8 series, the Anomaly series and numerous others. As all good PR people should, Tom believes in the games he's paid to promote — some more than others. Sometimes games come along that are genuinely excellent — games that, in Tom's words, are "magical, revolutionary, disruptive or otherwise worthy of consumers' awareness" — and, as you'd expect, Tom and co. would very much like to see these titles succeed, and they do their utmost to try and convince various outlets that these games are worthy of coverage and promotion. When these games don't get the coverage they deserve — either because of "bigger" games monopolising the front page or simply through being rejected outright — it's enormously disheartening, not only for Tom and co. but also for the makers of these games.

"At its core, this is an issue that pervades entertainment and consumerism as a whole," writes Tom. "People stick with brands they know. Everyone craps all over themselves (myself included) when a new Rockstar game is announced. That's fine; they make great games. But in an industry that so often complains about derivative sequels, soulless big-budget productions and a lack of risk-taking, isn't it about time we started focusing on quality? Shouldn't those companies looking to push the boundaries of the medium begin to reap the rewards? If things keep going the way they are, we'll never shed the $60 price point, we'll get sequels to major franchises every year, and we'll all keep complaining and wishing things were different."

Almost two whole years have passed since Tom wrote that post, and I don't think things have improved at all since then. If anything, I think they've got worse. For all Polygon's posturing about reinventing games journalism and for all Kotaku's posting of random bullshit only tangentially related to games, we're still in a situation where an alien visiting the games industry would believe there were only a few interesting games released every year, and that they're often entries in the same series. Call of Duty. Battlefield. Assassin's Creed. And so on.

Most recently, I've been becoming somewhat frustrated with Bioshock Infinite. I have no doubt whatsoever that it's a fantastic game, and everything I've heard seems to indicate that it is, in the words of a friend of mine, "intelligent Hollywood… a 'The Matrix of gaming'" and that is, on the whole, a good thing. We need creators like Ken Levine in the mainstream of the industry to push things forward and prove that there's a market for intelligent experiences as well as Mildly-Racist Brown Michael Bay Manshoot #327. I am glad that Bioshock Infinite exists, that it is apparently living up to the hype and that, I imagine, it is probably selling quite well as a result of all that hype.

What I'm less thrilled about is the fact that it's not really solving the problem Tom was talking about in his post. Bioshock Infinite may be "intelligent Hollywood", but it's still Hollywood. It's still a single game from a high-profile creator monopolising press coverage and social media, completely dwarfing smaller-scale experiences that — shhh — might actually be more interesting. Do we need videos explaining "why you should play Bioshock Infinite on Hard mode", articles about its ending, articles about why Ken Levine doesn't believe in Utopias, articles about how to edit the INI files, tips articles, articles about why having it spoiled didn't matter, articles about… have I made my point yet? This is a disproportionately large amount of coverage for one game — one very good game, admittedly, and one which has a lot of expectations to live up to, yes, but still just one game, and one game that people were already very much aware of in the run-up to its release. I'm already absolutely fucking sick of hearing about it, and the more I hear about it, the smaller the already-miniscule chance I will ever play it becomes — a phenomenon I discussed in this post.

The standard response to this is, of course, that this is what the greater audience is hungry for. Millions of people are going to buy, play and love Bioshock Infinite, and they should be catered to, as those millions of people are probably also going to want to read lots of things about Bioshock Infinite.

However, here's my (slightly selfish) question. What about me? What about people like me? What about all of the people out there — I'm sure I'm not the only one in the world — who didn't really like the first Bioshock all that much (I played System Shock 2 almost immediately beforehand, which just made the fact that Bioshock wasn't System Shock 3 all the more painful and frustrating) and consequently are not all that interested in this new one? What about the people who are more interested in other types of games? Don't we deserve some quality and wide-ranging coverage of the things that we're interested in? (Where's my "Tips for playing Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory" post, hmmm?) We have fan communities and enthusiast blogs, sure, but where's our high-profile professional outlet covering this stuff that's a bit off the well-worn path? (Besides Games Are Evil, of course, which I'm not going to pretend is anywhere near as big as I would love it to be!)

The gaming medium has grown up enormously in the last few years. With constantly improving software and hardware technology providing more and more flexibility for interactive artists to realise their digital dreams, and the rise of the indie space and Kickstarter allowing game makers to break free of the shackles of corporate culture, we're most definitely undergoing the "Cambrian explosion of possibilities" that SimCity, The Sims and Spore creator Will Wright talked about back in 2008. It's a great time to be someone who enjoys playing games.

But the games press has not evolved alongside the medium as a whole. The medium as a whole is now, as I've said numerous times in the past, far too broad for one outlet to be able to do justice to all of. And yet pretty much all of the big outlets choose to focus on the same part of this massively diverse medium. It's the part with the biggest audience, the biggest budgets and the biggest amount of money involved in it, yes, but it's still just one part of a whole. Read the news pages of one big site and you've read them all. Read the reviews section of one site and you've read them all. The sheer volume of things on display at events like PAX East and GDC help a little, but more often than not you still just hear about the same things from slightly different perspectives. Or you hear about Battlefield 4.

Why haven't we got to a stage where big outlets can feel confident enough to distinguish themselves from one another yet? Don't give me a reason to stick with one outlet, give me a reason to read all of them because of their completely different content. (Right now, I don't read any of them with any degree of loyalty, because very few of them provide coverage of the sort of thing I'm interested in any more!)

It's massively frustrating, and I don't even work in PR. I can bang my drum all I like about the types of game I'm interested in and want to experience more of… but is anyone really listening?

1164: Urgh

I'm exhausted. Mentally and physically. It's one of those times of year where everything seems to be dull, grey and miserable, both literally and metaphorically. It's cold outside, it's often raining or snowing, everyone is getting pissy with everyone else and I'd just quite like Existence to be a bit nicer, please.

The thing I think I'm finding most tiresome and exhausting at the moment is how short everyone's fuse on the Internet seems to be at the moment. I'm not even on Twitter any more and I'm still seeing stupid, ill-informed, pointless arguments erupting all the time. I'm deliberately avoiding all of them because I know from past experience attempting to provide some sort of rational viewpoint on any even vaguely "hot-button" issue will just get everyone yelling at you for no apparent reason. If they want to yell at each other, fine; it's just frustrating to see it happening, and Facebook's refusal to allow users to take control of their experience so they can insert advertising into mental orifices you didn't know you had means that it's all but unavoidable.

The current thing that seems to be getting everyone riled up is the current gay marriage Supreme Court thing that's going on in the States. Not being American, I don't know all the details of what's happening but I know my feelings on gay marriage, which are as follows: if you love each other and would both like to get married, you should be able to get married, whoever you are. Simple as that.

But this isn't about my views on gay marriage or indeed anyone else's views on gay marriage; rather, it's about one of those "Internet solidarity" things where everyone changes their avatar to the same thing to show support for a cause, "get people talking" and "raise awareness". I personally think that this is an idea that never works properly (I wrote about it when it happened for a different issue here) and sparks more arguments than it raises awareness — particularly when people don't explain what their sudden change to an abstract avatar is all about — but ultimately it's something that people are going to do if they think it helps, and I've learned it's really not worth arguing over.

Why? Because no-one on the Internet actually listens to anyone else. (That's a generalisation. There are exceptions. But check out any comments thread on a hot-button issue like this and you'll see.) People stick staunchly to their viewpoint and refuse to entertain the possibility of acknowledging (let alone embracing) an alternative outlook. And because people on both sides are so resolute that Their Way is the Right Way, tempers inevitably flare, people start calling each other hypocrites and trawling back over old social media posts to find that one post they know where their opponent did something that doesn't match up with the viewpoint they're advocating now.

I'm tired of it. Really tired. And I feel selfish saying that, but I'm saying it anyway. I'm tired of feeling like the exhausted teacher sitting at the front of the room powerless to do anything while a classroom full of children fight over silly "he said, she said" quarrels that aren't really addressing anything at all. (I speak from experience.)

I remember in the early days of the Internet, when communication with like-minded strangers was exciting. I remember spending hours on CompuServe's "CB Simulator" chat room talking to people — I even made some actual friends through it. I remember being polite and treating strangers with respect, and I remember them doing likewise. I remember being excited about this awesome-seeming future whereby anyone in the world could communicate with anyone else at the touch of a button.

Fast forward fifteen years or so and everyone is using this frankly amazing technology to call each other wankers. Good job, world.

1158: Forking One's Dongle

Some of you may have been following this recent unfolding story via the social Web and other avenues, but I thought I'd mention it here for those who haven't seen it. I am talking about the recent incident at PyCon, a conference for Python developers all over the world.

There's a comprehensive rundown of what happened over at VentureBeat (and follow-up here), but in case you can't be bothered to read all those difficult words, here are the pertinent points:

"Evangelist" is an actual job title these days outside of the religious community. Sweet Jesus. No pun intended.
Adria Richards, a "developer evangelist" for a company called SendGrid that has something to do with email (I don't really understand it, to be perfectly honest, but that's not massively important) "called out" two male developers during a keynote session at PyCon for making allegedly "sexual" jokes about "forking repos" and "big dongles". She did this by taking a photograph of them and then posting it to Twitter.
"Forking a repo" apparently refers to taking a piece of source code and developing it into a new piece of software not, you know, fucking it, despite the fact "I'd like to fork that" is a somewhat innuendo-laden phrase, particularly if you say it like a Cockney while rubbing your thighs, which reports don't suggest these two gentlemen did.
"Dongle", a piece of hardware that allows a particular function to happen, is an indisputably funny word because it has the word "Dong" in it. "Dongle" is also ripe for innuendo because it has the word "Dong" in it.
The inevitable Twitter shitstorm kicked off as a result of Richards' tweet.
Richards started receiving rape and death threats but continued to feed the trolls.
One of the developers in the photograph was fired after the incident.
One of the developers (I'm not sure if it's the same one who was fired offhand) apologised to Richards.
SendGrid suffered a DDOS attack following the incident.
SendGrid fired Richards today, explaining that the company supported her right to speak out against content she found objectionable, but not in the very public, provocative manner in which she did so.
???
Profi– wait, no, that's something else.

Now, I've said a number of times on here that I recognise and accept that women in the tech industry generally — not just the video games sector — are in a difficult position, having to compete against something of a "boys' club" mentality. And these women should speak out when something inappropriate is said or done to them.

This incident, though? I could tell yesterday when it all kicked off that it was going to be a real mess. The big issue we have here is that the things the male developers said weren't really sexist comments. They weren't directed at a woman, they clearly weren't maliciously intended and for all we know, they really were talking about literally wanting to fork the repo under discussion rather than making the rather childish joke it seems they were making. (And come on. When your profession requires you to talk about "dongles" with a straight face, even the most sour-faced git has to crack a smile every so often.)

There's also the issue of Richards and whether or not she invaded their privacy. The comments were made between the two men as a "private" joke — or as private as a joke can be in a crowded conference hall, anyway. Richards, the argument goes, eavesdropped on their conversation then shared details of it to the social Web when what she should have actually done was spoken to the two men herself, told them that the things they were saying made her uncomfortable, given them the opportunity to apologise if they wanted to, and that should have been that.

The flip side to the issue, of course, is that by making innuendo-laden jokes at a tech conference like this, these gents could be seen to be perpetuating the "boys' club" mentality — even if the comments weren't directly addressed to a woman. But in response to that I would again point out that at worst they were indulging in a childish, harmless pun that even a primary school kid would shake their head at, and at best they were simply using programmer slang with absolutely no intended sexual connotations whatsoever. Besides, I know plenty of women who are a dab hand at the old innuendo game themselves. And even Richards herself was caught making jokes about stuffing socks down someone's pants for when the TSA felt them up at the airport.

In short, the whole thing ended up being rather surreal, and no-one really came out of it a winner. Richards came out of it looking like one of the stereotypical feminists that those ridiculous "men's rights" groups get up in arms about, getting offended at something that really wasn't worth getting offended over. The developers who made the comments have had their names and faces dragged through the mud. And in the meantime, two people have lost their jobs and at least one of them is suffering a considerable amount of bullying and abuse as a result of this whole situation.

Ultimately, Richards' "speaking out" against the two developers' behaviour has probably done more harm than good, not least because the manner in which she did it cost her her own job and attracted the wrath of the very worst the Internet has to offer. I sympathise with her from that perspective, having suffered cyberbullying on a far smaller scale than this incident — but I also think she was a complete pillock for inciting this whole shitstorm in the first place. To reiterate: that doesn't justify the atrocious behaviour and abuse that has been directed her way, but at the same time, she's not at all blameless in this matter.

The social Web is a powerful tool and can be a force for good. But it can also destroy lives. Think about that before you do or say anything stupid.

1156: Dream a Little Dream

Sometimes I like my subconscious. Sometimes it comes up with creative, awesome ideas or simply entertains me with peculiar, fascinating and sometimes grotesquely compelling images that then provide suitable fodder from which to compose a blog post later in the day. I know I have at least one friend for whom the experience he dubbed "the poo dream" is a source of considerable amusement.

Sometimes, though, I don't like my subconscious. Today is one of those days.

I don't tend to suffer from nightmares a lot. I don't have many memories of being woken up suddenly by something unpleasant happening to me in my dreams, and I've certainly never done the Hollywoodesque thing of suddenly sitting bolt upright, wide awake and covered in sweat. This morning, though, my brain decided to show me some messed-up crap.

And yes, I said morning. As those of you who remember my previous posts on vivid dreams will remember, I tend to experience my most vivid flashes of weirdness from the subconscious after I've sort of kind of woken up once and drifted off back to sleep. In this case, it was shortly after Andie had gone out to work at half-past some ungodly hour in the morning, and I was far too tired to get out of bed at that point. So, without much encouragement required, I fell asleep again, and the peculiar images began.

This time around, I was back at my old secondary school. Specifically, I was in the music department's main room. This was quite a big room with a stage at one end, though it was relatively rarely used for concerts when I was there — school concerts tended to take place in the large (and extremely reverberant) sports hall. Regardless of that, though, there was a concert going on this time around. I was set to perform. Specifically, I was set to perform Carnival of the Animals on the piano, which the astute and/or classically-trained among you will know is a piece of music that normally requires at least two people and two pianos and possibly some additional instruments too. However, for reasons that were at best unclear over the course of this dream, I was set to perform it solo, and I was extremely nervous about it.

I don't remember anything else that was going on in the concert, but I remember the audience feeling somewhat rowdy. In fact, it felt more like a performance in front of a class of schoolkids than an actual concert — as I looked around, I remember noticing that the desks were laid out just as they always were — three rows, with another at 90 degrees to the rest of them down the side.

My time came to perform and I psyched myself up. I was going to give a small speech prior to starting my performance to explain why I was going to be performing Carnival of the Animals as a soloist, but as I stepped on stage the noise level from the audience (who, it was clearly evident by now, just were schoolkids) increased and increased and increased. I stood there mutely waiting for them to calm down so I could give my speech, but the hubbub didn't dissipate. Eventually I gave up, laid my music down on the piano that was on stage and prepared to take a seat.

Suddenly, from out of the audience, out burst a kid who was a fairly notorious bully when I was back at school. His appearance in my dream was just as when I last saw him at the age of about 15. While I was at school, I didn't have a lot of problems with this particular individual personally, but he was someone that I was wary of and tended to avoid whenever possible — not only because I was afraid of him, but also because I thought he was a bit of a tosser. Anyway, that aside, he leapt at me, and it wasn't until it was too late that I saw he was wielding a knife. He slashed across me as he leapt at me. I didn't feel anything, so I figured he missed.

Then I looked down and saw he hadn't missed. The front of my clothing was stained crimson with blood, and the pain suddenly kicked in.

Then I woke up. That was not a pleasant way to wake up, I can tell you, and it's not an exaggeration to say that it pretty much put a downer on most of the rest of my day. I've been feeling low and depressed all day and while I'm sure not all of it can be attributed to the activities of my subconscious, starting the day in that manner probably didn't help.

But what does it mean? Well, aside from the apparent long-term damage to my sanity that classroom teaching did… who knows? And I'm not sure I want to know!

1155: The Tablet Revolution

I've come to the conclusion that I'm a dusty old bastard who is set in his ways like an old man. That or everyone else is just plain wrong. Or perhaps a combination of the two.

I'm specifically referring to the "tablet revolution" — that futuristic gubbins that supposes everyone is going to replace their computer/console/handheld/everything with a tablet such as an iPad or whateverthefuck the bajillion Android tablets are called these days. I even read an article earlier where someone from Zynga said that tablets are "becoming the ultimate game platform".

I must respectfully disagree — at least for my needs and wants, anyway.

Our house has three tablets — an iPad 2, a Motorola Xoom and a Nexus 7. The Nexus 7 is currently in for repair, but got a fair amount of use by Andie, largely for free-to-play mobile games and Kairosoft titles. The iPad 2 also gets a fair amount of use by Andie for the same reasons. My Xoom gets barely any use, though the fact I have SNES, Mega Drive and various other emulators on there ready to go at a moment's notice is pretty cool.

But yeah. The fact stands: I hardly use these devices at all. Why? Because for my purposes, they don't offer a superior experience to other bits of kit. For gaming, I have consoles, dedicated handhelds, a laptop PC and a desktop PC. For work, I have my Mac, the aforementioned laptop PC and the desktop PC at a pinch. For browsing the Internet, I have… you know how this goes by now. For me, all of these devices offer a considerably superior experience to all of the tablets we have in this house.

Oh, sure, tablets can ably perform several of these functions, but they don't do any of them as well as the pre-existing devices. About all they do offer, really, is the fact that they're incredibly quick to turn on (assuming they have some charge left in them, which my Xoom in particular rarely does) and are a lot more portable and lightweight than many other devices.

But personally speaking, the fact that, say, the iPad is thin and lightweight isn't enough to make up for the fact that it's a lot more difficult to type on than an actual physical keyboard. And yes, I know, you can pay through the nose and get an iPad-compatible wireless keyboard (or a generic one for Android) but not only does that remove one of the main benefits of a tablet — its all-in-one portability — there's other issues too: the pain in the arse it is to access the file system (on iOS, anyway; this is one area where Android is marginally better), the fact that proprietary iOS and Android apps rarely play nicely with established formats (just try getting a Microsoft Word file with any formatting or layout whatsoever to look even a little bit right in Pages for iOS), the fact that some of the work I do requires the precision of a mouse rather than the cack-handedness of a touchscreen, the fact that some websites I want to use are designed for use on a computer with a keyboard and mouse rather than a touchscreen and a virtual keyboard.

And don't get me started on the games. "The ultimate gaming platform"? Don't make me laugh, Zynga. While mobile and tablet games have been enormously successful in getting more and more new people into video games, and that's a good thing for the industry as a whole, there is no way you can say with any good conscience that tablets are an adequate replacement for more established systems — and better-designed control schemes in particular. Have you ever tried to play a first-person shooter on a touchscreen tablet with no buttons? It is one of the most bewildering experiences you'll ever encounter: why would anyone want to put themselves through that? There are certain genres that work well, of course: strategy games, board game adaptations, word games and adventure games are all good uses of a touchscreen interface… as are the never-ending throng of isometric-perspective building/farming/dragon-raising games that are little more than vehicles for monetisation. There are very few tablet-based games that hold my attention for more than a couple of minutes, in short — the last was Ghost Trick, which doesn't really count as it was a conversion of a Nintendo DS game.

I guess that's sort of the point, though. The main benefit of tablet devices (and smartphones, for that matter) is their immediacy — you turn them on, you tap a button and you're (almost) straight into a game, and you can be out of it again within a matter of minutes if you just needed to fill an awkward silence or wait for someone to come back from the toilet. And that's good, in a way; it just doesn't really fit with how I play games. As I noted in a reply to Anne on yesterday's post, I play games as my main form of entertainment. I don't watch much TV, I don't watch movies, listening to music is something I tend to do while engaged in some other activity, and so games are my main "relaxing time" activity. I want to sit and play something for an hour or two (or more) at a time, and between freemium energy please-insert-credit-card-to-continue bullshit and the "bite-size", disposable, forgettable nature of most mobile/tablet games, I just don't get a satisfying experience from them.

Meanwhile, the laptop I bought a short while back is easily my favourite piece of kit in this house. It's powerful enough to play pretty-looking games like TrackMania, yet portable enough to carry around in a bag. Its battery life is decent (though not a patch on a tablet) and it has a nice screen. It's a good means of playing visual novels without having to tie up the TV, and it copes well with anything I might want to throw at it while working on the go. In short, it's an all-in-one device that does absolutely everything I want it to without making any compromises or dumbing the experience down at all. Sure, it takes a bit longer to turn on than the iPad, but it's also infinitely more useful and fun to me.

Fuck the tablet revolution, basically. Long live the laptop. And the games console. And the desktop PC. And the dedicated handheld. And, you know, sometimes, just a piece of paper.

1151: Twitter Let Me Down (Or: Why I'm Not Going Back)

Let's recap.

About a month ago, I was the victim of an organised "cyberbullying" campaign on Twitter. (Aside: I hate the term "cyberbullying", but it seems to be the accepted terminology so I will use it for now.) Members of an Internet-based organisation known as the "GNAA" (NSFW Wikipedia link) started harassing me, attempting to spread slanderous rumours that I was a paedophile, and copying me in on their pronouncements, presumably attempting to get a rise out of me. I blocked and ignored them as is the sensible thing to do in this sort of situation, but still they kept coming.

They started phoning people close to me — specifically, my brother and the owner of Games Are Evil, both of whose phone numbers are stored in the "WHOIS" information for their respective websites. Not just one phone call, either — several, each increasing the intensity of the threats to get the authorities called on me for my supposed (and, I'm sure I don't have to add, fictional) perversions.

The reason for this group's attack on me, it transpires, was the fact I had the word "Brony" on my Twitter bio. ("Brony", for those who don't know, is the term for adult-age fans of the recent My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic TV show, a group which I identify myself as being a part of. Seriously, that show's great.) This group had been attacking Bronies for a while and attempting to slander them in similar ways. They were also responsible for a high-profile attack on the social networking/blogging platform Tumblr back in December — said hack was also an attack on the Brony community.

Because this unprovoked assault on both me and my reputation was frightening and unpleasant, I reported it to Twitter. Because it was spilling out of the online sphere and into the "real world" with the phone calls, I also reported it to my local police station. The latter weren't able to do much about it — I wasn't really expecting them to be able to, to be honest — but I did at least feel somewhat reassured that I'd done all the things they would have suggested I do in this situation: change my username, block the perpetrators, do not engage with them, let other people know what's going on. Eventually, the perpetrators tracked down my new username and hijacked my old one, using it to impersonate me with the most obviously fake "this is what a paedophile does" sort of posts you'd ever see.

I reported the impersonation to Twitter as a separate issue, which required me to fax them a copy of my passport at my own expense to prove my identity. (Fax? Seriously?) It took them a few days to respond to this, but they eventually suspended my old Twitter username to prevent it from posting further offensive content in my name; in the meantime, I closed my Twitter account completely.

What I'm particularly disappointed about is Twitter's handling of the rest of the issue. I reported the problems I had been having back when that original post I linked to was written — mid February — and only received a response last night. The response I received was boilerplate text that simply said there had been no violation of Twitter policy, and that they didn't mediate in disputes between users. No attempt to address my concerns. No response to the fact that I had clearly laid out a series of tweets that showed an organised — and demonstrably unprovoked — campaign of hate against me. No concern for my wellbeing.

There is a difference between a "dispute between users" or a "difference of opinion" and an organised campaign to victimise someone based on their tastes and preferences. The offenders in this particular case went above and beyond simple name-calling into full-on harassment of not only me, but also my family and friends — and not only on the Internet, but also over the phone. None of this appears to have been taken into account in the month that Twitter's safety team have had to review this situation. In the meantime, the unpleasant individuals responsible for causing me such upset remain at large and unpunished, free to do it again to someone different for just the same stupid reasons they attacked me.

For this reason, I will not be returning to Twitter as a means of personal communications or social networking. While I appreciate a network of that size is difficult and time-consuming to police, that doesn't mean that the site's user safety department should get to just sit back and say "deal with it." This incident caused me considerable personal distress, and doubtless it upset and confused my family and friends who were dragged into it, too. The complete lack of concern Twitter's user safety department has shown towards a demonstrable case of organised harassment and bullying means that I do not feel comfortable trusting them in future; consequently, I will not be returning.

I doubt they care, of course; one user is but a drop in the ocean. I felt the need to share my frustration regarding this issue, however. Cyberbullying is a real problem that destroys lives — literally in many cases — and for Twitter to just turn a blind eye like this doesn't strike me as particularly acceptable.

If you used to follow me on Twitter, please feel free to share this post with any of our mutual friends. I would like to spread the word about this if at all possible.

Thanks, as always, for listening.

1148: On the Stage

I happened to be online earlier when a university friend of mine posted a Soundcloud clip of a comedy set he performed recently on Facebook. (That was a clumsy sentence. I apologise profusely. He posted the set on Facebook, he didn't perform it there.) I had a listen and found it immensely entertaining. Here it is:

At least, there it is if the embed code works correctly.

(EDIT: It did not. Here is a link to it instead.)

Anyway. Listening to Mr Millerick strutting his stuff and yell at British Gas on the stage got me thinking rather nostalgically about the reason I know him, and one of my favourite parts of university, which was my involvement with the university Theatre Group.

The Theatre Group was known at various junctures as Theatre Group, Blow Up and Rattlesnake! (with an exclamation mark) and I cannot for the life of me remember where the latter two names came from. I first joined it in my first year during that period of time when you feel like you should join some sort of club and meet people. I had enjoyed the two productions I'd been involved in at secondary school (The Wizard of Oz and Twelfth Night, if you're curious) and so I figured I'd try out for the university's luvvies society. One of my flatmates was also involved in the group, so I was glad to know there'd be at least one friendly face there.

The first production I was involved in was Macbeth. The Matrix hadn't long come out, so this marked the beginning of that phase when it was seemingly obligatory for everyone doing Shakespeare to do something Matrix-inspired, particularly if you were a student theatre group. By all accounts our production was pretty spectacular (and massively over budget) — it was a hugely enjoyable experience, though to be honest I didn't feel I got to know that many people that well at the time. The fun of being on stage was enough to make up for that, though.

Over my time at university, I was involved in several other productions, including a double-bill of French play L'Epreuve (A Test of Character) by Marivaux and Black Comedy by Peter Shaffer; Turgenev's tragic love story A Month in the Country (which we took to the Edinburgh Fringe to modest success); Alan Ayckbourn's Round and Round the Garden from The Norman Conquests (which we also took to the Edinburgh Fringe to more noticeable success — turns out punters are more interested in relatable, gentle comedy in proper theatres rather than tragic Russian love stories performed in botanical gardens several miles away from the main Festival area); and doubtless some others that have slipped my mind along the way. As time passed, I got to know a lot of the Theatre Group peeps well, and they became close friends.

One of my favourite things that the group did, though, was our Monday night improvisation sessions, where we all showed up, played some theatre games that we normally used for "warmups" in rehearsals for shows, then went out and got really drunk. Although these sessions weren't particularly structured, everyone got involved (even shy, retiring wallflowers like myself) and everyone was immensely supportive of each other's efforts. So successful were these events that they eventually spawned a semi-regular event in the Theatre Group's calendar — Count Rompula's Showcase. It had a more grand title which I've sadly forgotten, but Count Rompula was certainly involved in there somewhere.

Count Rompula brought us a variety of memorable performances, including one known as The Web of Dan. The Web of Dan started as a running joke among the group at Edinburgh, if I recall correctly, in which we figured it would be amusing if we did some sort of experimental theatre that was just Dan (obviously) trapped in a web and saying vaguely profound things. Count Rompula helped make this a reality, and it was glorious — though I do have to wonder what those people who showed up and had no idea what the big in-joke was thought.

Of all the aspects of university, Theatre Group is the thing I miss the most. One day I might actually succeed in getting these people back together for some sort of entertaining improvisation session (or, more likely, a drinking session) but in the meantime, I have very fond memories that I believe will stay with me for many years.