#oneaday Day 944: Uncovered: The Truth Why Gentlemen (And Some Ladies) Spend Longer in the Toilet

I can exclusively reveal to I'm Not Doctor Who a revelation: the real reasons why gentlemen (and some ladies) spend a long time in the toilet when doing a poo. This is a phenomenon that has long mystified the ladies (and some gentlemen) of the world, most of whom can be in, evacuated and back out again in the space of a couple of minutes. Your average gentleman (or some ladies), however, will regularly be in there for upwards of half an hour or so.

One question is on the lips of these gentlemen's (or some ladies') various significant others: what on Earth are they doing in there?

It is, of course, true that evacuating one's bowels continuously for 30 minutes would probably end with all of your internal organs falling out (yes, even the ones that aren't connected to the digestive system) so it's clear that not all of the time is spent doing, well, that. Likewise, the subsequent cleanup operation takes a matter of minutes at most. That leaves probably at least 25 minutes unaccounted for — so what is going on in that time period?

The answer is quite simple: anything which could quite easily be done in a more comfortable chair or in bed. Reading, checking emails, writing emails, checking Twitter, composing blog posts (yes, I have done in the past and no, this isn't one of them), playing video games, punching out board game components, small arts and crafts projects, installing software updates on various devices, learning a foreign language, listening to music — all of these are valid toilet activities for the dedicated "long stay" toiletgoer.

One may ask at this point why anyone would want to do any of those things on the toilet when there are many more comfortable seats in the rest of the house, many of which have an Internet connection nearby. The rather straightforward answer is "privacy, peace and quiet". For those who have trouble saying "I want to be alone," what better solution than shutting oneself behind a door which common decency prevents others from opening, even if the actual locking mechanism is broken?

You see, the bathroom is a haven of calm. Within that cramped little room lies a place for philosophers to determine their theories on life, the universe and everything; for authors to find their muse; and for committed Temple Run players to beat their previous high score while feeling one or both of their legs getting steadily more numb. It is a bastion of peace, free from the distractions of everyday life (unless the postman knocks on the door to deliver a package you've been really looking forward to) where one can go to be free, to partake in any activities they please — naked, if they so desire. There are few people on this planet who will shatter the sanctity of the the closed toilet door, and in most cases it's because they really need to go and will usually knock first.

So there you have it. A secret revealed. Should you have a partner who spends a long time in the toilet, judge them not too harshly, for they are simply setting their mental affairs in order, putting the day on "pause" for a moment before returning to tackle life's challenges once more. Allow them their moment of calm (unless you really need to go to the toilet) and marvel at their rejuvenated self once they emerge, ready to face the day.

#oneaday Day 943: School Days HQ First Impressions

I mentioned a while back that I'd acquired a copy of School Days HQ from JAST USA/JList, but I didn't play it very far due to a few rather nasty bugs that unfortunately made it on to the master CDs. Two rather hastily-deployed patches later and the game now appears to be fully playable without issue, which means I can get stuck into it. I'm now two "episodes" in — I'm not sure how many there are in total — and ready to give some first impressions.

School Days HQ, for the uninitiated, is a remake of a visual novel originally released in 2005 for Windows, PS2 and PSP. It's unusual in the visual novel genre in that instead of static backdrops with characters and text overlaid atop them, it's fully animated. "Fully" might be a slight exaggeration, as the game has something of a tendency to cut to images of the sky or a particularly interesting piece of ceiling whenever something that might have been difficult to animate happens, but for the most part the game looks rather convincingly like an animé series you'd watch on TV and, occasional strange cuts aside, is well-directed, with good use of split-screen and other special effects. In essence, it's an interactive movie rather than a visual novel, but it tends to be lumped in that genre due to its similarities in structure and gameplay. And, of course, the fact it has bonking in it.

Said gameplay involves a lot of watching and occasionally making decisions that will branch the story off in different directions. You can't afford to sit back and relax in School Days HQ, however, because decision points come without warning and "expire" after a short period of time — effectively making "say nothing" a valid option in most situations. This is an unusual feature for visual novels and for narrative-based games in general — the only other recent examples I can think of are The Walking Dead from Telltale and Heavy Rain, both of which have more in common with the visual novel genre than more "conventional" game styles. (I suppose choosing not to do the Paragon or Renegade actions in Mass Effect might sort of count, too.)

School Days HQ's narrative is all about close personal relationships, a favourite theme of mine. Protagonist Makoto finds himself sitting next to class cutie Sekai when their seats are rearranged, and through a bit of underhanded manipulation on Sekai's part, admits that he has a bit of a crush on the very shy Kotonoha, a girl from another class. Sekai, who firmly establishes herself early on as a complete control freak, makes it her goal to get Makoto and Kotonoha together and succeeds in her machinations.

Both Makoto and Kotonoha are almost painfully awkward together, however — extremely hung up on the conventions of polite Japanese society and not quite sure how to cope with the prospect of a relationship — it takes two dates before they'll call each other by their first names. Sekai, meanwhile, appears to have her own designs on Makoto, but so far in the story has done nothing but help the couple — with a bit of gentle teasing along the way, however. Given that she took her "payment" for getting the two together in the form of a kiss from Makoto and then spent her train journey home crying, however, it's clear that all is not as it seems with Sekai, and I'm expecting a distinctly messy love triangle as the story proceeds — something which has already been rather strongly foreshadowed.

So far I've very much enjoyed what I've seen. The animation and voice acting is decent quality, the subtitles appear to be well-translated and the timed decision points give the player a strong feeling of involvement even though, as usual for the genre, they're relatively infrequent. The characters are interesting, and the plot, while seemingly mundane, certainly has a lot of potential to head off in a bunch of different directions — including, as I understand it, some distinctly fucked-up ones. Which is nice.

As with many visual novels, the game is specifically for adults and features explicit sexual scenes. There haven't been any yet, but given that the game supports bona fide wanking machines for both sexes, it's fair to expect that there will be at least a few on the game's various paths. There's also the usual unnecessary (but seemingly expected) "fanservice" throughout — there were two rather gratuitous shots of shimapan in the first episode alone, though the second episode seemed to restrain itself from further pervertedness — fitting, since it largely revolved around Makoto worrying whether or not him attempting to hold Kotonoha's hand would make her see him as a "pervert".

I'm looking forward to continuing through the story. Its episodic nature means that it can be easily digested in small chunks like a TV series — and I mean this literally, as each episode opens with a short teaser, plays an opening title sequence and ends with a credits crawl. As such, it's an experience that can easily be fit around other things or marathoned all in one go.

Will I get a good or bad ending, though? That remains to be seen. I hope I get a good one. I kind of like these characters.

#oneaday Day 942: Trails in the Sky

[Aside: This is the one-thousandth post on this blog. Hooray! Another 58 days until I've completed a thousand days of daily blogging, however.]

My current gaming "jam", as I believe the kids are saying nowadays, is Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky, just Trails in the Sky or its immensely entertaining acronym TitS for short. It's a Vita-compatible PSP game from Falcom, published by Xseed in the States and Ghostlight in the UK, and it was originally available for Windows PCs in Japan, though in the West I believe we've only seen the PSP release.

It's good. Real good. And, like recent RPGs that I've had a particular blast with — Xenoblade Chronicles, The Last Story, Pandora's Tower — it is good due to its willingness to dispense with the conventions of the JRPG genre and to incorporate good ideas from both Western RPGs and the more specialist strategy/tactical RPG subgenre. This exhibits itself in two main ways: its battle system and its game structure.

Battles in Trails in the Sky are a slightly more involved affair than your stereotypical "line up in front of each other and take it in turns to slap one another" JRPG combat system. Instead, battles take place on a grid, and characters have to actually move around as well as use their skills. Certain skills can affect areas, too, meaning that positioning is more than just a gimmick. This system is combined with a mechanic similar to the "Conditional Turn-Based Battle" system seen in Final Fantasy X, whereby the turn order for the next few rounds is displayed at the side of the screen and can be affected by various factors.

The game's "Craft" special ability system also allows player characters to "jump the queue" in the turn order at times if their "Craft Points" bar is full, allowing the player to manipulate the turn order to their advantage. This is an important aspect to gameplay, as certain turns are marked with symbols that denote various bonuses to the active character — a guaranteed critical hit, increased damage, a small amount of healing.

Structurally, the game is somewhere between a traditional JRPG and a more freeform Western title. The game's main plot is rigidly linear and leads the party through various locales which then become their "base" for a while. But while they are there, they have the opportunity to take on a bunch of optional quests which range from defeating tough monsters to delivering packages or locating ingredients. They're generally pretty simple stuff, but each is bookended by a short story sequence for context, giving the player a greater feeling of immersion in the game world by allowing them to get to know some of the incidental characters a bit better. It also makes the game feel less linear, as these optional quests can be tackled in any order — though some will expire if too much progress is made on the main plot before completing them.

There's another reason to do these quests: they're one of the few ways to make money. Rather than monsters inexplicably dropping fountains of gold when they expire, they instead drop crystals that can be used to synthesise new special abilities at a special location in towns, or sold for a profit. Questing is a much more reliable source of income, however, as it's better to save up the crystals for upgrading characters.

Mechanically, then, Trails in the Sky is interesting if not quite "revolutionary" — it's certainly enjoyable to play. But the highlight for me so far has been the excellent localisation. Characters are well-defined and have a strong sense of personality even though there's no speech or any real animation. Through a simple combination of well-written text and mood portraits, you get a real feel for who these people are and how they relate to one another. Particular praise should be given to the interplay between the two main protagonists Estelle and Joshua, who have clearly been set up to have a ridiculous amount of sexual tension between them for the duration of the game despite being polar opposites in terms of personality. It's also surprising to see an openly bisexual character making an appearance, though he is treated somewhat less than respectfully by Estelle, as she refers to him as a "pervert" within minutes of finding out about his preferences. (To be fair to her, though, he kind of is a bit of a pervert, though not because of his sexuality. His stalkerish lusting after Joshua seconds after meeting him for the first time is a bit creepy.)

I'm only about 10 hours in to the game so far but it claims to be about 50 hours in total. That's a decent size for a handheld RPG — hell, it's a decent size for an RPG generally. Any more than that and it can become a bit of a slog. I hope the excellent characterisation and fun battles continue throughout, as it's been a blast so far — so if you have a PSP or Vita and are looking for some top-quality questing, give it a shot.

#oneaday Day 941: Scrivenings

I've been spending a bit more time with Scrivener, a writing tool that I picked up a while back and then didn't do much with for a little while. Having paid actual money for it, though, I figured it was high time I delved into it and actually started using it for a project rather than it being one of those things that just gathers (virtual) dust as a symbol of past good intentions.

I decided that the project I was going to use it for was a visual novel. Regular readers will know that I find this simple but effective form of interactive storytelling to be a fascinating medium, and I have been toying with the idea of writing one for quite some time, usually falling at the first hurdle when I remember I have little-to-no graphical talent, which somewhat precludes me from incorporating the "visual" bit.

But, I figured, no sense worrying about graphics if there's nothing for them to visualise. So I decided to actually start writing it, and to use Scrivener to plan it out in advance.

Now, when I write, I must confess that I rarely go through a formal "planning" process. This is probably fairly evident in these daily blog posts, which tend to spew forth directly from my brain and out of my fingers in some sort of hideously unorganised stream of consciousness. But it's the way I've generally worked on more formal pieces over time, too. During A-Levels and university, I never "planned" an essay on a piece of paper beforehand. I never used the "outline" function of Word, I never scrawled things on Post-Its and then moved them around. I just wrote, then tweaked, fiddled and moved things around once I'd written a first draft. It worked for me.

Mostly.

That approach doesn't work so well with long-form fiction, whether you're attempting to create a linear narrative for a novel or a non-linear branching narrative for a game or visual novel. I have a number of stalled novel projects on the go simply because I'm not entirely sure where they're going. In some cases, I have an idea of what the end might be, but it's the stuff in the middle I haven't figured out. How to get from the beginning to the end, as it were.

So, as I decided to start work on this visual novel project (which, like an irritating PR agency for a company making an iOS game you don't give a shit about I'm "not ready to talk about yet") I also figured that I would give this whole "planning" thing a shot. I recalled seeing the spectacularly comprehensive flowchart for Katawa Shoujo (mild spoilers within), and knew that if I was going to put together even a relatively simple VN project, I would have to figure out some sort of way to keep it organised.

Fortunately, Scrivener has delivered just that brilliantly. In order to plan out the basic sequence of events, I've used the "corkboard" facility and its special mode where you can drag around virtual index cards as you please. I've written short synopses of each scene on each index card and laid them out in a logical fashion to depict the various routes the player might be able to take through the story. Each index card then corresponds to a separate "subdocument" in the whole Scrivener project, allowing scenes to easily be split up and composed a little bit at a time rather than simply being confronted with a daunting blank page and no idea where to start.

Then there's pleasing little touches that help with the actual writing process, too. When writing in "Script" mode (which I'm using to compose the VN), simple keyboard shortcuts allow you to easily switch from writing actions to character names to dialog and back again. You can create links to other subdocuments or your research (which you can also store within your Scrivener project). You can split the editor window so you can refer to a piece of source material as you write. And when it's all done you can "compile" your project ready for publishing as a physical product, ebook or other format.

I've barely scratched the surface of the features it offers, but already I can see it becoming an essential part of the writing process. Progress on the VN project is going well so far — I've synopsised (huh… according to spellcheck that IS a word) the whole of the first "act" of the game and am now starting on in-depth scripting for each scene. Following this, I'll work on the various diverging paths through the narrative and hopefully end up with a suitably comprehensive document ready to plug into Ren'Py and then flutter my eyelashes at someone who can draw. Following that, who knows? Perhaps I'll have a finished game one day.

#oneaday Day 940: Insert Coin

When I was young, I loved arcades. There was something magical about going to one of those dingy rooms, inserting your pocket change into a slot and playing games that were far beyond anything home computers and consoles offered. The arcade experience was all the more "special" here in the UK, as traditional game arcades tended to only be found at the seaside. As a resident of a landlocked county growing up, a trip to the seaside was typically a sign that it was "holiday time" — and, consequently, "arcade time."

I liked the arcade experience so much I regularly tried to recreate it at home. I liked playing games that specifically called the feeling of playing an arcade game to mind — I recall Stratos on the Atari 8-bit being one of the earliest examples, later followed by the (rather poor) Atari ST ports of titles like Turbo OutRun and After Burner. I also loved the original Starfox/Starwing for how much it felt like it could have been an arcade machine — everything about its presentation called to mind a "50p a go" sit-down machine that was actually hooked up to my television. Especially the noise it made when you pressed Start on the title screen. (Seriously. I loved that game almost entirely for how arcadey that noise was.)

For some reason, though, I've never owned an arcade stick — the ultimate accessory in making your home gaming systems feel authentically arcadey. I think it's been partly due to the fact that I've never been particularly good at fighting games — the primary reason most people get such a peripheral. But with Persona 4 Arena and Dead or Alive 5 coming soon, I figured it was time to take the plunge and give one a try, particularly as it would also likely prove to be a fun addition to the "bullet hell" shmups I like playing, too.

The stick I eventually settled on — after the whole CeX/PS3 Street Fighter IV stick debacle, now thankfully resolved — was the catchily-named Qanba Q4RAF. I can pretend to know what I'm talking about when I say that this stick has Sanwa components and is dual-modded out of the box to allow compatibility with PS3, Xbox 360 and PC. The latter feature is the primary reason I chose this stick — it's not the cheapest, but given that I wouldn't have to buy additional sticks for the other systems if I found myself enjoying the more authentic "arcade" experience, it seemed like a sensible option. I have it on the good authority of the Internet that Sanwa components in an arcade stick are A Good Thing, too, so there's that.

I spent a bit of time trying it out today. In Street Fighter IV on the PC, it performed admirably, and allowed me to reliably perform a Shoryuken motion without any difficulty whatsoever — something I have always had trouble doing on a pad, and particularly on the Xbox 360's dreadful D-pad. Just the positioning of the buttons made a lot of moves significantly more comfortable to perform, too. So while I am no expert at virtual fisticuffs as yet, I feel that using the stick will certainly help me to get better.

I also tried it out with Deathsmiles on the 360, one of my favourite shmups. Here, the stick really came into its own, allowing easy shooting in both directions as well as access to the game's other functions. The digital stick proved a lot more sensitive and accurate than I expected, too, allowing for very precise movement amid the hails of bullets. I'm looking forward to trying it out with titles like DoDonPachi Resurrection, Akai Katana and Gundemonium Recollection.

Finally, I tried it with Scott Pilgrim on the PS3. Again, it worked well, with the chunky controls and clicky stick feeling very much like the way this game was intended to be played. A successful test all round, then — and absolutely no issues in switching between the three different platforms.

I'm a total convert, then — and now very much looking forward to the experience of playing Persona 4 Arena properly arcade-style. Hell, just looking forward to playing Persona 4 Arena. Damn, I miss those characters.

#oneaday Day 939: Deeper Into the Dark

Last night, I had the good fortune of being able to spend some more time with my friends playing Descent: Journeys in the Dark Second Edition (hereafter, once again, referred to as Descent 2). The game has been a big hit so far, which is pleasing, as there's a hell of a lot to it and a significant amount of replay value even once your group plays through the 20+ hour campaign once.

This time we had a full complement of five players — me as the Overlord and four hero characters, two of whom we "boosted" up to an equivalent level to the two who played the first quests in our first session. We took on a new quest and played it through to completion. It took significantly longer with five people as this (1) meant that there were four people to argue about the best way through which to eviscerate my monster minions and (2) I had more monster minions with which to attempt to eviscerate my four opponents. Overall, I found it a much more satisfying experience with five players total, which perhaps explains why the game's BoardGameGeek page rates it as "best with 5 players".

The game has so far appeared to be weighted quite heavily in favour of the heroes in that they have won every quest so far. I'm not complaining about this, mind — it's quite fun to struggle against these difficult odds, and I'm assuming (hoping, really) that the odds will even or perhaps tip in my favour as the campaign progresses to more difficult challenges. Or, of course, I could just be rubbish at being the Overlord. (I know for a fact on more than one occasion I screwed myself out of a potentially significant advantage by forgetting to play Overlord cards such as "pit trap" and "tripwire" that could have stopped players from moving and thus blocking me off from completing objectives — but this is entirely my fault, so I didn't ask for a "do-over" as that wouldn't really be in the spirit of things. I have learned my lesson.)

There are a ton of things to like about the game, though. Unlike many "dungeon crawlers" (which, as I've previously said, Descent 2 really isn't) the rules are relatively lightweight, but pretty flexible, and the custom dice used for combat allow for a large amount of variety. For the unfamiliar, every attack roll uses a blue "attack" die, which has a 1 in 6 chance of missing and does varying degrees of damage on its other faces. Each weapon or special attack then uses one or more of the red and yellow dice — red ones offer the potential for more damage, while yellow ones offer more in the way of "surges" — little lightning-bolt symbols that can be spent to perform a weapon's special actions — some might be able to "pierce" the enemy's defensive dice, for example, while others might do additional damage, apply an effect or knock the unfortunate victim backwards. Combine the various weapon, skill and item cards with the pool of dice available and you have a wide variety of possibilities that keeps combat constantly interesting.

And that's just within a single encounter. Pulling back to look at the bigger picture, the entire campaign can play out completely differently according to how the heroes and Overlord perform, and the quest choices that the hero players make. Rather smartly, the game only requires players to complete three out of five possible "Act I" quests before an "interlude", followed by three out a possible ten "Act II" quests, each of which is presented as part of a pair according to whether the heroes or Overlord won the corresponding act I quest. I didn't explain that very well. Basically, Act II's available quests change according to who won various quests in Act I. There, that's better.

On top of that, the Descent 2 Conversion Kit allows content from the original Descent: Journeys in the Dark to be used with Descent 2, opening up a whole swathe of possibilities. And then you can guarantee that Descent 2 will also have its own expansions ready to roll before long, meaning that this is a game with a potentially very long lifespan — which is why I'm so very pleased that my group has taken to it so well. Anything that puts off yet another humiliating, crushing (and bewildering) defeat in Agricola is just fine with me.

#oneaday Day 938: Stop Shouting, Start Talking

As I have said before on a number of occasions, I do not enjoy conflict, disputes, arguments or anything that gets a bit "heated". My own social anxiety tends to make me overthink it and repeatedly go over it in my mind and worry that it's "personal", even if it isn't. And the sort of passive-aggressive comments that inevitably come up when one of these situations arises inevitably make me paranoid that they're talking about me, even if they aren't.

But that's a little off the point of what I wanted to talk about, though it does involve conflict.

For those who weren't following the debacle on Twitter earlier, Gearbox Software, developers of Borderlands 2, chatted with Eurogamer about an addon character that would be following the game's launch. The developer in question (Hemingway? I'm writing this on my phone so can't be arsed to multitask) commented that this character had a skill tree called "Best Friends Forever" that provided a number of significant boosts to a less skilled player, allowing them to play alongside someone very familiar with first-person shooters and still have a good time. Things like being able to ricochet bullets into enemies if you aimed vaguely near them rather than having to be properly accurate — real noob-friendly stuff, and actually a really good idea to make the game accessible to less skilled players, or two co-op partners of uneven skill.

The trouble arose when the developer referred to this particular set of abilities as "for want of a better term, the girlfriend skill tree". This was misquoted by Eurogamer in its own article as "girlfriend mode" and the whole thing then spiralled out of control through the usual game of Chinese Whispers, making significant proportions of the Internet very angry indeed and effectively tainting what was actually a very good idea with the distinct whiff of sexism.

The dude's words were ill-considered and stupid and Gearbox should have apologised for them rather than poncing around trying to do "damage control" like they instead chose to. The fact they were said at all is symptomatic of a large sexism problem within the video games industry, and this is an issue that should be addressed.

Addressed calmly and rationally.

Unfortunately, that latter part is what is escaping commentators on both "sides" of this debate. One side starts yelling about how awful this is, making increasingly over-the-top arguments, then the other strikes back in exactly the same way, leaving everyone looking rather foolish. I of course understand that this is something that people are passionate about — particularly feminists who work hard to promote a much-needed female equality agenda — but "passionate" should not mean the same as "angry" or, at times, "disrespectful". Any time either side descended into all-caps sarcasm (and BOTH sides were guilty of this several times throughout the day) it just ruined the point of what they were trying to say and ended up looking rather childish, really.

I'll reiterate: I believe sexism is a problem in society, particularly in the video games industry. But spitting feathers, swearing, making false comparisons, wilfully misquoting things and taking a "who can shout loudest" approach is just counterproductive, surely. I accept that it is frustrating every time something this stupid happens, and I agree that it should be talked about — there were plenty of people out today just wishing everyone would shut up, which isn't a helpful attitude to take — but yelling isn't the right way to go about it because it just leads to a downward spiral of both sides becoming more and more defensive.

Instead, what is needed is rational, sensible, calm and honest discussion. Those upset by the comments should be able to point out that they were upset — and why — without fear of reprisal. Those who didn't see why there was a problem should open their minds and see the other side's viewpoint rather than immediately going on the defensive. And the hidden third faction who just wanted everyone to shut up should calmly accept that different people hold different views, and just because they don't want to hear about something doesn't mean that no-one should talk about it.

Unfortunately, the very nature of the Internet means that immediate, passionate knee-jerk reactions are the way most people go — and once someone gets up on their high horse it's very hard to get them down again, regardless of what viewpoint they hold. It becomes exhausting for everyone involved and everyone observing, and just ends up leaving a distinctly bitter taste in the mouth — one that could have easily been avoided had the issue been addressed promptly, calmly and rationally by everyone involved.

Instead, we get what we had today, which was a bit of an embarrassment for everyone involved. I sincerely hope that one day we can sit down and talk about these things without all of the RIGHTEOUS FURY, because then we're much more likely to get something productive done about it.

Because seriously, people, it's 2012 and we're still discussing gender issues. Surely the human race should have moved past this sort of discrimination by now?

At least there are certain corners of the Internet where sexism is tackled effectively, calmly and rationally — just as it should be. Check out this great story to see How It's Done.

#oneaday Day 937: The Olympics Are Closed

The Olympic closing ceremony finished not long ago, a little late, and now it's back to normal for Britain until the Paralympics start, at which point everyone will suddenly get interested in sport that isn't premier league football again for two weeks and then forget all about it when that is finished. (Incidentally, people, you can stop saying "don't forget about the Paralympics" any time you want. They're still quite a way off. I doubt anyone is going to forget they're happening — and more to the point, I doubt the media will let anyone forget they're happening, either.)

The closing ceremony was… well… uh… a bit poo, really. After the genuinely impressive spectacle that was Danny Boyle's opening ceremony — noteworthy for its greatest achievement, which was stopping British people from being snarky for two whole weeks — the closing ceremony just couldn't match up, and seemingly made no effort to.

This is nothing new for Olympic closing ceremonies, of course, which always tend to be a bit poo, particularly when compared to the opening counterparts. But this was just… bizarre, really. And not especially good. There was a lot of celebration of British music that wasn't that good — Jessie J, Tinie Tempah, Taio Cruz (no, I didn't know he was British, either) were particular lowlights — and some utterly sacriligeous bollocks in the form of Jessie J butchering Queen with her characteristic out-of-tune caterwauling. Apparently the Spice Girls were involved at some point, but since I had left the room to go for a dump as soon as a video of John Lennon came on whining his way through "Imagine" showed its face, I missed them. And I'm not sorry. The Spice Girls never were good live. They were, however, responsible for this .gif of David Cameron clapping on "1" and "3" (twat!) and Boris Johnson dancing like your embarrassing uncle at a wedding:

Perhaps the most noteworthy thing about the closing ceremony was the palpable sense of relief as 60 million British people all unlocked their underpants and let rip with one of the biggest waves of snark I've ever seen. Everyone was obviously backed up from two weeks of genuine pride in the country, the achievements of our athletes and the fact that holy shit you guys, we did an Olympics and it didn't suck! It was obvious that everyone felt a lot better after ripping the shit out of the closing ceremonies, so it is, of course, entirely possible that the whole event was designed with precisely this in mind. In which case the whole thing was a wonderfully-crafted work of art that managed to get two weeks' worth of clogged-up snark well and truly ejaculated from the British public just in time for us to go back to the humdrum mundanity of everyday life tomorrow.

Or perhaps it was just a bit poo, really.

Still, regardless of how it ended, the Olympics have been an impressive spectacle and it's been nice to see people taking pride in athletes who obviously do what they do for the love rather than the money. There have been many comments over the last two weeks concerning the obvious differences in attitude between the (mostly) very sportsmanlike Olympians and the whiny, overpaid, spoiled little crybabies that are premier league footballers, and it's true. I hate football precisely for the attitudes that are typically on display from the oafs who are at the top of their game, and there was not a trace of that throughout the Olympics… well, for the most part, anyway. Winners often appeared to be genuinely humble and proud of their victories, while those who missed out on gold didn't tend to blame the referee, the other team, the other manager, the fans or anyone — they simply remained gracious in defeat and, in many cases, promised to come back fighting even harder at the next opportunity.

That's the true thing that should be celebrated from these Olympics. The opening ceremony was cool, sure, and the closing ceremony was entertainingly bad, but neither of those two things are what the whole experience is about. It's about taking pride in the sporting achievements of one's country, and if it can even crack the jaded, cynical old heart of a curmudgeon like me then it's truly something to be applauded.

#oneaday Day 936: Biggest != Best

No, I'm not talking about penises.

Let's talk about Facebook.

Facebook is massive. Facebook has taken over most people's daily existence on the Web to such a degree that there are plenty of people out there who genuinely believe that it is the Web. Like, all of it.

It's not. But then you probably knew that already.

But the fact stands that it is a massive global phenomenon, and something that has happily grown and evolved over time from its humble beginnings up to the multi-bajillion dollar business it is today.

Thing is, though, as it's grown, it's sort of lost sight of what it's for.

"Facebook is a social tool that connects you with people around you," the login screen used to say. When adding a friend, you used to have to indicate how you knew them, and the recipient of that friend request had to verify your story. It was actually quite a good idea that got around the MySpace "friend collecting" issue, whereby people would just add and add and add each other and then not talk to any of their 40,000 friends. Facebook's systems ensured that you 1) were actually friends with the people you marked as friends and 2) didn't fall into the "popularity contest" trap.

Whizz forward to today, and the Facebook of 2012 is a very different place. Now we get people promising "2,000+ friend requests" if you Like one of their pictures. I don't want two thousand friends. I want my online friends to reflect people I actually know, and occasionally give me the opportunity to meet someone new who is relevant to my interests and/or knows people that I know. Give me two thousand newcomers from all over the world, all of whom are vying for my attention simply to make some arbitrary number higher than everyone else, and you sort of lose that.

Part of the reason for this change is the different in what Facebook thinks we should use it for these days. I first joined the site quite a while after many of my friends had — at the time, I assumed it was going to be one of those passing fads like MySpace, and would quickly disappear into obscurity. But I found its value while on a trip to the States to visit my brother — while abroad, I could share the photographs I'd taken and easily stay in touch with my friends as a large group rather than emailing them individually. It was nice.

Over time, things started to shift. Facebook's big change to something a bit closer to its current layout upset a lot of people, and the addition of "applications" marked the beginning of how the social network looks now. At the time, I was of the attitude that the people complaining about it were bleating on about nothing, but in retrospect they may have had a point. As everyone's news feed started filling up with FarmVille brag posts, the signal to noise ratio started getting worse.

Then came the brands. Facebook undoubtedly thought they were doing everyone a favour when they opened up the previously "personal" social network to companies and businesses who wanted to grow their social presence. And in some cases, it worked well, with companies able to engage with their customers and post important information as and when needed.

Unfortunately, this too lost the plot somewhere. Now, pretty much every brand page uses the same obnoxious "engagement strategies" to keep people commenting, talking and Liking — the worst of which by far is the fucking awful "fill in the blank" status update that invites commenters to give their own meaningless opinion on something utterly asinine and irrelevant to the company's product. ("My favorite color is ____________!" proclaimed the Facebook Page for The Sims 3 on one memorable occasion. Over four thousand people replied.)

You see, people seem to absolutely love posting things that have absolutely no value. People love thinking their opinion is important, that they are being listened to, that the things they say are somehow valuable to someone.

The things you say are valuable to someone. The people they are important to are called your family and friends. Not the PR representative for The Sims 3. They don't care what your favourite colour is. They just want you to keep giving them page impressions and comments and Likes.

Likes. Fuck Likes. The Like button is Facebook's most enduring legacy, and one of the biggest blows to actual communication in today's connected world. Why comment any more when you can just click "Like"? It means nothing, particularly when it's connected to a sentence for which the verb "like" is completely inappropriate. ("My grandad died. So sad right now." "Insensitive Twat likes this.") It's a meaningless metric designed to measure how many people have seen something you have posted and want to interact with it, but are slightly too lazy to actually write anything.

The diminishing sense of Facebook's usefulness for actual communication is perhaps best exemplified by the current way someone's profile looks. Known as "Timeline", the theory behind it is that it is an easy to navigate history charting everything interesting that has happened in someone's life.

It's a sound plan. Unfortunately its implementation is just terrible.

The problem is that there's no consistency in how posts show up, and seemingly no understanding of how people read content. Leaving aside the fact that one's profile cover image and fairly pointless basic information takes up over 500 lines — or nearly half of a 1920×1080 display — there's seemingly no rhyme or reason as to what gets posted at the "top" of one's profile.

The conventions established by blogs and earlier social networks dictate that the most recent things go at the top, so anyone checking in on someone's page doesn't have to scroll around or search to find something new. Yet with all the sources from which Facebook can pull information these days — games, external sites, apps, Spotify, Netflix — there is no consistency in what goes where. For example, at the time of writing, this is what the top of my Timeline looks like:

What a mess, and very little of it is stuff that I 1) actively shared and 2) feel people really need to know. I deliberately shared the RunKeeper stuff because I like sharing my fitness achievements because it helps keep me honest, but I have no need to show people who eight of my friends are, nor do people need to know that I achieved Bronze Level 2 in Five-O Poker, a game I reviewed earlier in the week and specifically told not to share shit on my timeline. At the other end of the spectrum, pages that I have "Liked" elsewhere on the Internet — and thus wanted to share with others, perhaps because I wrote them or just found them interesting — have been unhelpfully collected into a single box that shows just four of them. This behaviour changes seemingly daily, with Liked pages sometimes showing up as individual posts on one's Timeline (useful) and sometimes being collected into that box (not useful). At the time of writing, Facebook appears to have decided that "not useful" is the way to go on this one.

Let's scroll down a few "page heights" and see what else we have:

The left column? Sort of all right. The right column, though?

SO MUCH IRRELEVANT CRAP.

Including posts from games that I 1) didn't press a "Share" button in once and 2) have since removed from my Facebook account.

There. After five screen-heights worth of scrolling, I finally get to one thing that I actually want to share with people — my recent WordPress posts, aka a feed from this blog to my Facebook Timeline. Again, though, like the Likes, they have been collected together into a box that displays very little relevant information and, in this case, is put in a stupid, stupid place. Why stupid? Because the most recent post in that little WordPress.com box came considerably after the RunKeeper post at the top of my Timeline — and certainly considerably after all the spammy crap those games have plastered all over that infuriatingly useless right column.

"Facebook is a social tool that connects you with people around you" my arse. "Facebook is a digital scrapbook maintained by a five-year old with ADHD," more like.

I'll see you on Twitter.

#oneaday Day 935: Edinburgh, How I Miss Thee

A brief Twitter conversation with the always-awesome Mitu Khandaker got me all nostalgic this evening. Y'see, Mitu has just come back from the Edinburgh Interactive Festival, where she was speaking about exciting and clever things to do with love, sex, relationships and obsession in games — a topic which I find particularly fascinating, as my extensive series of posts on Katawa Shoujo will attest.

But that's not what I want to talk about today, as I'm sure video and/or slides from Mitu's presentation will be available online at some point soon, and they will probably say things rather more coherently than I can. (I LOVE YOU EMIIIIIII)

No, instead I just want to look back on why Edinburgh is awesome. Because it is awesome, and if you've never been I strongly suggest you take the opportunity to do so.

My memories of Edinburgh stem entirely from my several trips to the Fringe festival with the Southampton University theatre group, known on various different occasions as SUSU Theatre Group, "Blow Up" and "RATTLESNAKE!", for reasons that I have, sadly, since forgotten.

My first trip there came during my first year at university. I'd joined the theatre group and had already had a small part in our overly-elaborate and rather pretentious production of Macbeth. The Matrix was still fashionable, you see, so it was seemingly obligatory for every student theatre company in the country to do a Matrix-inspired Shakespeare production, and we were no exception. (It actually ended up being quite good, though vastly over budget.)

Anyway, Wachowski-Shakespeare crossovers aside, my association with the theatre group eventually led to me auditioning for the Edinburgh production and successfully securing a part. The play we'd decided to take up was Ivan Turgenev's A Month In The Country, which is a good play with interesting characters (I played Afanasy Bolshintsov, a character for whom I was legitimately able to leverage my legendary Harold Bishop impersonation), but quite heavy going. Our bright idea was to perform it outdoors in the Edinburgh Botanical Gardens, which sounded like a great idea on paper.

Actually, it was a pretty great idea that added some lovely atmosphere to the play, the only flaws in the plan being 1) the amount of rain that Scotland gets and 2) the fact that the Botanical Gardens were rather off the beaten track. As a direct result of 2), we had rather disappointing viewing figures, but soldiered on regardless, despite having no more than one or two people watching most days.

Performing the play was just a relatively small part of the whole experience, though.

In the mornings, we'd be flyering on the Royal Mile, one of the main streets in Edinburgh that attracts entertainers and promoters come Fringe time. Flyering was always fun, even if it was rather difficult to sell the idea of a tragic Russian love story performed outdoors in a venue no-one really knew the location of to passing tourists. We managed to get a few people coming along, though — and not just all our respective parents.

In the evenings, we'd take in some shows (all right, lots of shows) and then go drinking. Lots of drinking. You see, at the time, Scotland's licensing laws were significantly different to England's — in England, you could only drink until 11pm in a pub and 2am in a club; in Scotland you could drink until… actually, I can't remember what time you could drink until in a Scottish pub (I want to say 2am) but I certainly remember that the clubs were open until 4am.

Our two regular haunts for drinking purposes were the "Frankenstein" pub, a rather tacky (but awesome) theme bar that sold overpriced (but awesome… and deadly) cocktails; and a club just around the corner called Espionage, which had five floors, each of which was themed after a far-flung locale that James Bond had visited in one of his movies. (Incidentally, I am very pleased to note that both of those venues are still there. That makes me feel warm and fuzzy.) Following drinking until some ungodly hour in the morning, we'd often decide that The Thing To Do at that point was to get a pizza from the conveniently-located all-night pizza place that was near Frankenstein — an all-night pizza place which provided you with said pizza at an astonishingly high speed.

It wasn't all roses, though. On this first trip, I was enjoying the experience but found myself suffering considerably from the social anxiety that has wracked my personal life for as long as I can remember. I found it difficult to start up conversations with the people I was living with at times — despite the fact I was acting with them every day — and I found myself worrying that people would think the things I said would be stupid. I recall one evening getting very depressed, breaking down in tears and being very embarrassed about the whole situation despite the fact I was sitting by myself in the hallway when it happened.

Two of the guys I was staying with came to my rescue: Chris and Des (no relation to Des). I was very grateful to them, because they proved to me that the things rattling around in my head were completely wrong. They took me in to their room, talked to me, got to know me and let me stay the night in there with them. (To sleep. This was not a period of "experimentation" for me.) We had some laughs, particularly at Chris' expense when he fell asleep in mid-sentence, and I got up the following morning feeling considerably more positive about myself, my situation and my ability to make friends.

That night was a real turning point for me. Remembering that night gave me the confidence to go back to Edinburgh on two other occasions with the theatre group — once without a show, once with a double-bill of The Importance of Being Earnest and Alan Ayckbourn's Round and Round the Garden. Both visits were amazing, and neither were tainted by feelings of anxiety. In fact, the experiences I had on those two visits were remarkably akin to the way I felt when I visited PAX East a couple of years ago before my life went to shit — I felt like I was "home", "among friends", and completely comfortable. I would have given anything for it to have lasted forever.

But these things don't last forever, sadly. What will stay with me forever, however, is the memories — Des getting told off for trying to dry-hump a guy dressed as a dinosaur on the Royal Mile; recording our drunken conversations on a Dictaphone in the kitchen of the hostel we were staying at; climbing Arthur's Seat after a solid night of drinking, reaching the summit in time for sunrise, drinking sake in silence as we witnessed dawn breaking, then sliding down the muddy hillside on our arses.

Thinking about it, my positive memories largely revolve around what I did while I was there than the city itself. I've never been there when it wasn't Fringe time, see — and at Fringe time it's a magical place, infused with a wonderful atmosphere all day and all night for the entire duration of the festival. But from what I saw beneath the glitz and slightly grotty glamour of Fringe time, it's a beautiful city, too, and one that you really should visit if you've never had the opportunity. One day I'll make it back there, though whether or not it'll be at Fringe time I don't yet know!