#oneaday Day 872: Haters Gonna Inspire Worldwide-Trending YouTube Videos

I really love it when someone I know achieves success with something. That's why it was so utterly delightful to see something that a friend from university worked on gradually spread around the world today.

I am talking, of course, about this video, which if you haven't watched yet… well, you just should. (Probably NSFW.)

I don't know Isabel Fay (the lead performer) directly, but I do know one Mr Tom Hopgood, who co-produced the piece and has worked very hard with Isabel and the rest of the team at Clever Pie TV to produce some high-quality comedy skits over the last few years. Today, it seems, all that hard work really paid off.

I watched it happen over the course of the day. Another university friend shared the video. I expected this. But then someone who, to my knowledge, had no direct connection to Tom or Isabel shared the video, which surprised me. Then I shared it after watching it and finding it hilarious.

Then I went and did some work. As the day progressed, I saw the video start appearing in various tweets along with Facebook and Google+ posts.

Then Stephen Fry shared it, which is pretty much a guarantee that you're going to be a sudden global sensation, at least temporarily. Sure enough, a lot of the YouTube comments indicated that Stephen Fry sent them.

As it gets close to bedtime, I see more and more people still sharing it, including other unrelated Twitter followers. It truly is something which has spread worldwide and has enjoyed universal appeal among everyone I know online. This is delightful to see.

It's especially delightful to see as it was absolutely perfectly timed. I have a feeling it was just a happy coincidence that it happened to appear on everyone's radar today, but after reading this depressing post over on Feminist Frequency regarding the harassment, misogyny and silencing tactics the author had endured after promoting her upcoming research and video series, it just seemed perfectly, perfectly apt. Perhaps the fact that hateful comments on the Internet are very much at the forefront of people's minds right now meant that it resonated more than it might have done otherwise.

Or, you know, perhaps it's just a great piece with an infuriatingly catchy melody.

Whatever the reasons were for the video enjoying the success it has done so far (and still is — Twitter mentions of it are still flowing in even as I type this) don't really matter, though. I'm absolutely stoked for Isabel, Tom and the rest of the Clever Pie gang, and though I haven't seen Tom for a large number of years now I'm very proud to say that I have both known and worked with him. I have photos to prove it and everything.

I hope this is the beginning of something really big for Clever Pie. If they can continue to tap into relevant topics like this, then they've got it made. "Thank You Hater!" manages to be both topical and timeless at the same time — Internet trolls are always going to be an issue, but they're particularly prominent in people's minds right now for various reasons.

Enough gushing. Time for the weekend. Have a good one, everyone.

#oneaday Day 853: Friend Collecting

I didn't understand it back in the MySpace days, and I still don't understand it now.

Friend collecting. Why? Just… why?

I am, of course, referring to the phenomenon seen in the comments thread of this Facebook post here:

(with apologies to Kalam, who is nothing to do with this.)

"Who wants 2,000+ friend requests?" asks Ahmed Hamoui, only with poorer use of punctuation and a seeming inability to use the number keys on his keyboard.

To his question, I answer "Not me. Fuck off."

Facebook is noisy enough at the best of times. Can you imagine how chaotic and useless it would be if you 1) got 2,000 friend requests and 2) accepted all of them? It would completely negate the core concept of Facebook (or what it used to be, at least) which is to be a "social tool" that helps you to connect with family and friends. The very nature of the way Facebook works pretty much encourages you to limit the friends you add to being people you actually know, otherwise there's that horrid risk of people seeing photos they shouldn't. Because despite the fact that everyone knows you shouldn't post embarrassing photos online, everyone still does. (Not to mention the fact that you have no control over what other people post.)

This sort of thing happens on Twitter, too, with the whole "#TeamFollowBack" thing, whereby certain tweeters promise to follow back if you follow them. At heart, this sounds like a relatively admirable thing to do, promoting mutual, equal discussions and– oh wait, most of them are just collecting followers for no apparent reason then filling their entire timeline alternating between bragging about how many followers they have and bleating about how close to the next "milestone" they are. (Please RT.)

I trimmed my Twitter list massively a month or two back because it was just getting too much to deal with. I flip-flopped between two equally annoying problems: things moving too fast for me to be able to keep up with, and everyone posting the exact same thing at the exact same time either due to press embargoes or the death of a celebrity. So rather than complain about it, I cut the people who were irritating me or whom I hadn't "spoken" to for a while, and now enjoy a much more pleasurable life online. Sure, my timeline still gets flooded every time a celebrity (usually one I've never heard of) dies, but at least I can keep up with the conversations for the most part.

Which makes me wonder why on Earth you would want to put yourself in a position on Facebook or Twitter where it is literally impossible to follow and engage with that many people. Surely at that point social media ceases being at all "social" and simply becomes white noise?

Or perhaps I'm just getting old. It seems to be mostly young kids (particularly Justin Bieber fans for some reason) engaging in this behaviour. Perhaps they have a much greater tolerance for being bombarded with crap than I do. Perhaps they're numb to it. Perhaps they don't really want to "socialise" at all online, simply grow a bigger e-peen than their friends and/or strangers they don't know.

Whatever. I don't really care. I have cultivated a relatively small but close-knit circle of friends online, much as in "real life", and I'm happy with it that way. It's nice to have occasional new people trickle into the mix through, say, this blog or Twitter or what have you, but I certainly don't feel any need to bellow at the top of my lungs about how close I am to 1,500 Twitter followers, and I have no idea how many friends I have on Facebook — nor do I care.

If you'd like 2,000 friend requests on Facebook, simply "Like" this post then go fuck yourself.

#oneaday Day 820: Disagreement

I hate arguing. In fact, I'd go further than that. I hate disagreeing. I have absolutely no doubt that this particular aspect of my personality is a side-effect of the social anxiety that I suffer from, but it sometimes makes discussions hard to participate in.

I'm fine with expressing my opinion and feel I can argue my viewpoint pretty convincingly in most instances — this blog is filled with numerous examples of that, as longtime readers will doubtless know. It's in the things that happen after my opinion has been stated that things get a little trickier — namely, if someone comes along with a diametrically-opposed viewpoint and the willingness (and/or ability) to argue until they're blue in the face about how much I'm wrong and how they're absolutely right.

Most of the time, these disagreements don't descend into "you're an idiot", but my discomfort with disagreeing makes me sometimes feel like it's implied. I like to think that I go through life as a fairly likeable sort of chap and take great pains to try not to offend anyone (swearing and masturbating stickmen aside, obviously — I'm referring specifically to personal attacks here) so having someone disagree with me and argue their case in an impassioned manner is a frustrating, disquieting experience that often makes me wish I had kept my mouth shut in the first place.

Part of this is due to the fact that I tend to cycle negative experiences around and around inside my head involuntarily. Even a seemingly innocuous, irrelevant discussion that might have gotten a little bit heated somewhere along the way is enough to keep me awake at night sometimes — and those rare situations where someone is actually genuinely upset by something which has occurred? I can pretty much forget about remaining calm, instead preferring to stare into space, replaying the incident in my mind and wondering what could have happened if things went a little differently.

It can happen before time, too. If I know there's some form of difficult conversation coming up, I'll find myself role-playing it in my head, imagining what might happen. Inevitably my mental conversation has the worst possible outcome, usually descending into someone getting yelled at or thumped. This does at least make having the actual conversation pleasantly surprising almost without exception, since no-one ever gets thumped and hardly anyone ever gets yelled at.

I guess part of the frustration over all this is to do with power, or more specifically, a feeling of powerlessness. If you know (or at least believe) that your opinion on something is inherently sensible and others seem to think that you're speaking gibberish, it's disheartening — particularly if said opponents of your viewpoint are aggressive and stubborn in their dismissal of what you have to say. It's particularly disappointing and upsetting when people whom you like and respect fall into this category, too.

Nine times out of ten, the argument just wasn't worth having in the first place, too. So what I have taken to doing most of the time these days is just stepping back before jumping in to a debate, thinking "will this get heated? Is it worth potentially getting upset over?" and then — only then — making a decision on whether or not to proceed. In some cases, said decision leads to launching a discussion and dealing with the consequences. In others, it leads to walking away — deleting the unsent tweet, closing the comments section, biting my tongue. And in extreme cases, it leads to me feeling like the correct course of action is simply to remove myself from the situation in question and ensure it doesn't arise again — online, that means unfriending, unfollowing and/or blocking people; offline… well, you just walk away and don't look back.

Some people are built for arguing. I don't think I'm one of them.

#oneaday Day 818: "So Fed Up With SOMEBODY..."

Passive aggression. It's an ugly business, for sure, but never has it been easier to participate in than in this age of social media. While the phenomenon has been around for many years in the form of bickering couples saying things like "SOMEBODY didn't do the washing up" or making other such pointed remarks either directly at each other or to other people within earshot of their partner, it wasn't until people gained the ability to broadcast their every waking thought to the entire world that it became the worldwide craze that it is today.

I'm not sure exactly what it achieves. I've indulged in it in the past — in my defence, there were extenuating circumstances at the time — and it didn't really make me feel any better, though it did have the effect I desired at the time: to get some validation and reassurance from friends, and to piss off, upset or otherwise get the attention of a specific person. I wasn't particularly proud of the result. I ended up feeling worse about the thing I was trying to get out of my system than before the passive-aggressive incident. So I try and avoid it in most cases these days. (Note: most. No-one is infallible. And I'm aware that not sharing the details of said incident above could be construed as a form of passive aggressiveness. But, well, shut up.)

Why has social media been a catalyst for the growth of passive-aggressiveness, though? Quite simply, it's because it gives people the ability to feel like they're being heard even when no-one is really listening. Post something along the lines of "SO PISSED OFF WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW!!!" on Facebook and within a matter of minutes you'll have at least one "Like" and one comment saying something along the lines of "u ok hun?". Since you're being passive-aggressive, though, you couldn't possibly say exactly what's up with you at the time, and as such you drop vague hints as to what is bothering you without actually saying it. Or, worse, you leave a comment to the "u ok hun?" commenter saying "I texted you", letting everyone else reading the comment thread know that you're telling someone all about what/who has pissed you off this week, encouraging a flurry of private messages and texts to said person asking "Do you know what's up with so-and-so?"

Eventually, of course, the whole sordid saga comes out because statistically, someone in your group of friends is likely to have loose lips. We know this from sitcoms where one member of a group of friends is forced to keep someone's secret but finds themselves increasingly tempted to reveal everything to someone else, whom it transpires actually knew it anyway. Or, to base ourselves back in reality, some people like telling others secrets because it gives them a feeling of power — "I know something you don't, but I'll tell you if you buy me a drink/buy me a pony/sleep with me" — and thus said secret gradually spreads and spreads until, inevitably, it gets back to the person it originated from, who traces it back to the person who they told in confidence and then posts another passive-aggressive status update about how they're, like, totally so pissed off with people who can't keep secrets.

You get the idea, anyway.

As human beings, we have a variety of means of communication at our disposal, and it's pretty clear to most of us that being upfront and honest about things often makes life a lot easier in the long run, even if it might be a bit like tearing off a plaster in the short term. But in the heat of the moment, it's all too easy to focus on that "short term" bit and take the easy option, which is to bottle up the things we're really feeling and simply spout vague bullshit into the ether in the hopes that someone — anyone — will reach out to us and give us someone to talk to.

We never learn our lesson, though — at least not if my Facebook news feed and Twitter timeline are anything to go by.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#oneaday Day 802: On 'Entitlement', and How the Games Industry May Have Brought This on Themselves

Yet another op-ed discussing the controversy of Mass Effect 3's ending dropped today, this time from Gamesindustry.biz. In it, author Rob Fahey notes that "the advent of the Internet generation has done something deeply unpleasant and disturbing to the word 'fan'", going on to describe how the word has gone from meaning "I like this, it speaks to me on some level, I enjoy it, and I'm willing to spend money on it and advocate it" to "I like this, and thus it belongs to me, I own it, and I deserve a say in its future and its direction."

I don't argue with Fahey's key point here — that there are people out there who believe that they should have a say in the way their favourite franchises are run — but I do object to several things about this article. My main point of contention is that the tone of the piece is yet another example of the games press being unnecessarily confrontational towards members of the public, lumping everyone who disliked Mass Effect 3's ending together into one homogenous group. In reality, it's rather different — while it's true that there are people who have gone to the extremes of setting up petitions and complaining to official bodies over the ending, there are also people out there who dislike the ending because it's badly written, because it feels half-finished, because it feels like an excuse to tack on the obnoxious "Hey! Buy DLC!" dialog box after the ending, and many other valid reasons to say it is a bit poo. (I'm paraphrasing from discussions with several friends and podcasts I've listened to here, as I have not played the game and, as you likely know very well by now, will not be doing so.)

Fahey does, however, then touch on an important subject which I believe is what has led us to this whole mess in the first place over the course of the last few years.

"Game companies are excited, delighted, by the idea of having loyal fans," he writes. "Game companies have engaged with their fans, closely and directly. They nurture their communities. In BioWare's case, and God knows they're probably regretting this now, they openly talked about how important fan feedback is to them, about how Mass Effect was a series driven by its fans. It's become a creed, a mantra. The fans are important. We love our fans. We listen to our fans. Tell people that often enough and they start to believe you — and on the Internet, there are a whole lot of people who don't need much of a push to believe that they're important and must be listened to."

This is correct, but it is not the fault of the fans themselves. Rather, this situation has been exacerbated by the direct engagement with the audience that Fahey notes above. Fahey does concede that the industry has "forgotten that creativity isn't about the audience, first and foremost, it's about the creator" but seemingly shies away from what has actually caused this problem.

Two words: social media.

In BioWare's case, their seemingly exemplary social media strategy of direct, personal engagement with fans has actually turned out to be their downfall. Let's take a look at a bit of background to this.

For starters, a while back the company's own social media coordinator Erika Kristine took the bold step of providing an open link to her own personal Facebook profile. Fans were able to befriend her and talk to her directly — though, disappointingly, as an attractive female, many of the comments she ended up getting on her page and photos tended to be of the "ur so beautiful" creepy variety rather than people wanting to engage with her. Perhaps unsurprisingly, her personal Facebook presence appears to have vanished, to be replaced by a "fan page" which hasn't been updated since November of 2011. The damage was done, though — longtime fans knew that Erika, a human being, was in charge of BioWare's social media, and thus opened the gates for "negotiation".

Then there was the FemShep incident. What was previously a quirky subculture of the Mass Effect community — the cultish love for the female incarnation of Commander Shepard, voiced by Jennifer Hale — was adopted as a marketing tool by EA and BioWare. We started to get promises of FemShep trailers, FemShep art on the box, FemShep this, FemShep that. The whole thing came to a head with the odious "beauty pageant" public vote where subscribers to BioWare's Mass Effect page on Facebook were able to vote on which of a variety of computer-generated hotties — very few of which are actually possible to create using the in-game character creation tools — would become the "official face of FemShep". When the community objected to the fact that a "predictable" blonde, blue-eyed FemShep was winning the competition, the company opened another round of voting, this time providing a choice of hair colours for the same model FemShep. (We ended up with a redhead — a decision I applaud, but that's beside the point.)

These aren't isolated incidents, and they're not limited only to BioWare and EA. Most major game publishers these days have hopped on the social media audience engagement bandwagon and regularly post questions, invite feedback and hold votes for everything from which athlete should be on the front cover of this year's Madden game to what colour Serah's panties should be in the inevitable upskirt scene in Final Fantasy XIII-2. All right, I made that last one up, but given that Konami promoted NeverDead with an interactive picture where the game's heroine Arcadia stripped off more and more clothing as more people Liked the page, it's not beyond the realm of possibility. This revolting marketing ploy has thankfully disappeared now the game's page has moved to Timeline view.

Given the way developers and publishers interact with their fans, though, is it any wonder that some have started to feel like they have the right to exert some degree of "crowdsourced control" over their favourite franchises? If they can influence what FemShep looks like, why can't they influence the ending of Mass Effect 3?

In short, the industry has backed itself into this corner and no amount of complaining about how "entitled" the more vocal fans are is going to change that. These fans may well have a sense of entitlement, but that has come from somewhere — it hasn't just appeared from thin air. And no-one seems willing to acknowledge this fact, perhaps largely because it's much too late to do anything about now. Pandora's Box has been opened, Liked and Shared with eleventy bajillion people around the world, and it's going to be very difficult to close it again.

In order to fix this, developers and publishers need to take a step back from their audience, to stop engaging with them quite so directly and to stop soliciting feedback on every little irrelevant detail of, say, how many tassels there should be on the new Assassin's Creed dude's hoodie. If developers don't want a repeat of this whole Mass Effect 3 fiasco, then they need to stand back behind a barrier that carries a big sign reading "Look, chumps, we made this, and we hope you enjoy it. You're free to not enjoy it if you so please, but it is what it is — finished, complete, tied up with a pretty pink bow. If you enjoy it? Great. We'll keep making more if you keep buying them. If you don't like it? Don't buy it, then we'll know we need to do something else."

"This isn't a situation that'll change overnight," concludes Fahey's piece, "not least because immense inertia defines the role of 'fans' in our industry — but it's important for game creators to realise that things don't have to be this way. Engagement with fans doesn't have to mean letting the lunatics run the asylum, or even giving them the impression that they've been given the keys to the office."

His conclusion here is valid — this is exactly what game creators need to do. You can't crowdsource a big-budget game and expect it to come out coherently, so don't encourage people to think that's an option. However, the fact that some people have already come to that conclusion thanks to social media oversaturation doesn't make them "sociopaths", as Fahey calls them — it means that they have been brought to that conclusion via precedents set by the people they are complaining to. Similarly, those who simply dislike the ending on the grounds that it's just not very good — particularly when the rest of the series is used as a yardstick to measure it against — aren't being "entitled" or "sociopathic", they're just rather unfortunately finding their opinions lumped in with those who are taking more extreme arguments.

I hope the industry learns from this experience, but I have a suspicion it won't.

#oneaday Day 796: Social Unplugged

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

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

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

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

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

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

#oneaday Day 765: Social Overload

It may be simply my "over 30s" grumpiness starting to show, but I'm starting to find "brands'" use of social media to be immensely irritating. And even more irritating is the fact that their techniques seem to work — which, of course, perpetuates the whole hideous cycle until someone snaps and goes on a mad katana rampage.

I'm talking primarily about that faux cheerfulness that pretty much every brand page out there shows when addressing its audience. "Hey [insert collective noun here that is tangentially related to being a fan of the product in question]! [exclamation mark is important to show enthusiasm] We thought it'd be a great idea to [adopt some out of date Internet meme/take goofy photos of our office/make a cringeworthy video] so we did! And here's the proof! [insert link to photo/video/blog post]".

Getting your audience to engage with you is one thing. Getting them to engage with you on a meaningful level is an altogether different thing. I genuinely once saw the The Sims 3 Facebook page ask the community what their favourite colour was. Nearly a thousand people replied. I "Unliked" them shortly after that.

As I'm writing this, I'm trying to pin down exactly what it is that riles me so about this sort of thing. After all, the very fact that nearly a thousand people wanted to tell the faceless Sims 3 page that their favourite colour was, in fact, blue shows that it's a system that seems to work. But does it have any value whatsoever? Does feeling like a brand is someone you can "talk to" help you feel any more fondness towards the product in question, or is it simply a novelty and a means of building community?

It depends on how you handle it, of course. If a question posed by a brand page is the start of a larger discussion which representatives of the brand then participate in, then it's a good thing, in my opinion. However, for the most part in my experience, these sort of posts tend to just be "post something that lots of people won't be able to resist replying to or Liking, light the blue touch paper and stand back". After the initial question is posted, the brand steps back and doesn't participate in the discussion any further, leaving the community to fight each other over whether or not the man who said pink was his favourite colour is gay or not.

The side-effect of all this relentless posturing by brands is that it leads to a feeling of saturation. By way of example, I've been so bombarded with teaser videos, images, exhortations to "celebrate FemShep Friday" and numerous other pieces of detritus that I've, ironically, lost any enthusiasm I may have had for Mass Effect 3 and probably won't be buying it.

"Ignore it," you may say. "Unlike it. Unfollow it."

Believe me, I have. But sometimes you need to venture on to those pages to find out useful pieces of information — like, say, release dates — and end up having to mine your way through pages and pages of completely, utterly worthless nonsense in order to find anything relevant. That, surely, isn't how it's supposed to work. Or perhaps it is, and that's why I don't work as a "social media guru" or whatever.

On the flipside to all this, companies seem to be a lot better at using Twitter in a manner which doesn't infuriate me. The very way in which Twitter works — you don't see replies from people/brands you are following that are directed to people you aren't following yourself — means that a lot of this unnecessary noise is filtered out. And the fact that tweets are, by their very nature, somewhat transient means that there's no means for a 1,000-post comment thread discussion on favourite colours to take place. This is a Good Thing.

The best brands on Twitter do one of two things: post relevant information at a steady pace for you to check out at your leisure (see: feeds from websites or companies that have regularly-updating news) or use Twitter for one of its primary functions — as a means of communication.

In the former case, what you essentially get is a bit like an RSS feed relating to the product or company you're interested in. In the latter case, you get some of the most helpful customer support I've ever had the pleasure to experience.

Take the poor souls over on the XboxSupport Twitter account, for example. These absolute saints have to deal with bombardments of questions every day, and somehow they still manage to remain polite, professional and — most importantly — get straight to the point. Ask them a question and they'll do their best to answer you in a single tweet, and often very quickly, too. What you don't get from them is vapid crowd-baiting questions or upselling suggestions to check out/buy additional products.

A lot of other companies have cottoned on to this in the last couple of years. I was particularly impressed with Orange's support Twitter account, which helpfully resolved an issue I had tried (and failed) on several occasions to sort out over the phone. Xbox Support, too, have been great, and I'm sure there's plenty of other examples out there.

I suppose there's a lesson in all this somewhere. I should probably resist that inviting-looking Like button at the top of Facebook pages I can see are filled with vapid nonsense, and stick to only following things that actually provide useful information. Otherwise all that ends up happening is you feel completely burned out by the multisensory marketing bombardment you experience on a daily basis — and you end up hating things that you formerly liked. (Sorry, Mass Effect. It's not you, it's me.)

#oneaday Day 625: Communal Listening

I've seen a fair bit of negativity floating around surrounding Spotify's new (optional) integration with Facebook — for those unfamiliar with the changes, Facebook now has a new Music dashboard which broadcasts the details of what you're listening to from services such as Spotify in real time and provides links for other people to go and listen for themselves.

I've seen several people on several social networks decry this as some sort of gross invasion of privacy, but I can't help feeling they're missing the point in a number of different areas.

Firstly, the whole "Facebook privacy" concern thing is something of a moot point when you consider the point of the site — it's a social network designed to let people connect with each other and share things, whether that's a banal status update, what album they're listening to or the fact they unlocked an achievement in The Binding of Isaac. What you share on there is, ultimately, up to you, and if you're worried about your details being online then — there's no simpler way to say this — don't put them online. Facebook doesn't belong to you. It's never claimed to be a private network and, in many ways, locking yourself in a walled garden when using a social network defeats the object somewhat — if you just want to use it with close friends and family then you might as well just use email.

Taking the music thing specifically, Facebook integration is an excellent idea. Consider how we used to consume music in the pre-Internet days. We'd listen to the radio, watch Top of the Pops, talk with our friends. We might have friends over and listen to a particular band's latest album together — we'd certainly talk about it the following day at school, in the office, wherever you happened to be spending most of your time. Buying a new album was an event — these days, music is just "there", it's just something to have on in the background and people don't think twice about buying a track here, a track there without any thought of its context as part of a larger album. As part of this evolution, the whole real-world social aspect of music has been somewhat diminished.

Which is why embracing online socialisation is a good thing. Your personal musical tastes — key word personal — are your own individual thing, and there's very little reason why you shouldn't want to share them with fellow listeners. In fact, Spotify has always been set up to encourage the discovery and sharing of new tracks thanks to its Spotify URLs and ability to share on Facebook, Twitter and other services. The automatic broadcasting of what you're listening to right now is simply an evolution and automation of the process. And, if you're embarrassed about your musical tastes, then you can always turn the facility off.

Facebook is guilty of many things — pointless interface redesigns, a bizarre definition of what "Top News" is, fiddling around with settings behind your back without telling you and gradually building up a near-monopoly on the social Web — but one thing it has always done over the years is do exactly what it set out to do — provide an online social network with which you can communicate and share with your friends. The precise definition of what you can (and what is worth) sharing has changed and grown over the years — but why shouldn't music be a key part of that? And why, if the infrastructure's already there to do so, shouldn't that process be automatic?

You're very welcome to look at my Music page — here it is.

#oneaday Day 573: The Completely Subjective Guide to the Current State of G+ Games

So you're on Google+ and you've seen with some trepidation that social games have come to the platform. Firstly, fear not, because all the game posts are confined to their own stream that is separate from the day to day social interactions. Said game stream needs some work — you can't filter it in any way at the moment, for example — but at least it means your conversations aren't continually interrupted with "HEY! I NEED SOME PAINTBRUSHES! CLICK HERE AND GET FREE GIFTS!" as they are on Facebook. The lack of the "Wall" as a concept on G+ also helps with this — interactions take place in a timeline, like Twitter, but with comments, like Facebook. It's a good system.

But you want to know about these games, right? Millions of people play Facebook/social games every day and you've never dared take the plunge. So here's a brief look at each of them, gleaned from myself taking a brief look at each of them so you don't have to. I'm not pretending these are in-depth or even fair reviews, just first impressions from the amount of time an average user might take to decide whether or not to pursue playing a game further.

Angry Birds

You probably know by now whether or not you love or hate Angry Birds and its unpredictable physics model. This is no different from the norm. Well, there is one slight difference: the "teamwork" levels. Don't get too excited by the prospect of multiplayer action, though — all the "teamwork" aspect is is all your friends' stars being added together in an attempt to unlock further levels.

Bejeweled Blitz

It's Bejeweled Blitz, the one-minute twist on traditional Bejeweled play. It features a tournament system and doesn't hassle you every two minutes to share everything you've done. It does feature a completely unnecessary experience point system, however.

Bubble Island

It's Bust A Move, demonstrating ably the first refuge of an unfortunately large number of unscrupulous social game developers: ripping off someone else's game and reskinning it. It's not a bad version of Bust A Move, but the fact it's a shameless clone is a little grating.

City of Wonder

Clearly trying to be Civilization, right down to ripping off the things the advisors say when they're suggesting what to research next, this doesn't have the depth of Meier's game. If you enjoy building cities without having to worry about pesky geographical principles or simulation elements, then you might like this, otherwise it's one to give a miss. Weird art style, too.

Crime City

Absolute garbage. A game about crime should be about the thrill and the tension of potentially getting caught; here, it's about clicking on things and watching progress bars. In essence, it's Farmville, only with guns. This might sound great, but it's actually awful. A waste of a potentially rich theme; avoid.

Diamond Dash

A reasonable puzzle game with a simple premise — click groups of 3 or more gems that touch orthogonally to make them disappear. Repeat for one minute. It's sort of like Bejeweled Blitz but with a different mechanic. There's a weekly tournament option like PopCap's classic, but you have to unlock it by levelling up to level 3. Players who play this game more have an unfair advantage by getting automatic score boosts depending on their "experience" level.

Dragon Age Legends

Probably the best of the bunch in that it demands some degree of interaction on the player, and makes use of your friends in an excellent way. Dragon Age Legends is a combat-focused RPG where they player moves from battle to battle, engaging increasingly tough hordes of enemies in turn-based combat with up to two companions initially. The social twist is that these companions are your friends who are also playing the game, complete with the equipment and skills they've chosen to outfit them with — essentially a form of asynchronous cooperative multiplayer. For those with no friends, the game also provides a selection of virtual friends for you, too.

While not as deep as a "real" RPG, Dragon Age Legends goes some way to showing that traditional game mechanics don't necessarily have to be sacrificed for the sake of making the game friendly to the social network audience.

Dragons of Atlantis

This is by "hardcore social games" specialist Kabam, and is one of the most tedious games I've ever played, not helped by the fact that the tutorial (disguised as a list of "quests", as usual) goes on for approximately fifteen bajillion years and steps you through EVERY SINGLE STEP YOU MIGHT HAVE ACTUALLY WANTED TO MAKE YOURSELF ANYWAY with "rewards" along the way. The game is about building your city state and then kicking the shit out of other players, but it will take you a good few hours to get to a stage where you're able to attack another player — and you may well have been bored shitless prior to that due to the fact that some buildings take 30-60 minutes of real time to build.

Dragons of Atlantis is mildly unusual among social games in that it features a real-time chat interface, though. The community doesn't know the words "you're" and "they're" exist, and there seems to be an awful lot of people trolling for cybersex. There are probably better places to do this than in a public chat window that is two lines of text high in a tedious game about running a city that's supposedly in Atlantis (I thought Atlantis was a city?). Also there are dragons, apparently.

Edge World

Also from Kabam, this game gets going a bit quicker than Dragons of Atlantis but is fundamentally pretty much the same game, only with a sci-fi skin. It looks like StarCraft but it really isn't — you have no direct strategic control over your troops when attacking a base, for example.

Wild Ones

It's Worms, basically, though victory is determined by how much total damage you do, not by who is eliminated first. You have a significantly more limited arsenal than in Team 17's classic, though.

Unusually for a social game, it offers simultaneous online play. Most of the community appear to have never played Worms before, meaning you can assure victory for yourself by having a slight understanding of physics.

Zynga Poker

A decent implementation of online poker. Not much more to say about that really! As the reviewing cliché goes, if you like poker, you'll like this.