#oneaday Day 502: Another reminder that traditional games journalism is all but dead

It emerged today that the entire Features team of the gaming website TheGamer has been laid off, after owner Valnet decided that it likes money more than having actual employees who are capable of writing.

I'll admit that I was never a particular fan of TheGamer for a variety of reasons, but regardless of my own personal feelings about the site, this sucks. It's the latest instance of something that has continued to suck for a while now, with even big names of the games journalism industry — if such a thing even exists any more — suffering widespread layoffs, cutbacks and significant worsening of what they offer for their audiences. Enshittification, if you will. And yes, even longstanding behemoths like IGN and Eurogamer have been subject to this. According to VideoGamesChronicle and PressEngine, more than 1,200 journalists have left the business entirely in just the last two years — and that's not taking freelancers into account. (That puts the figure nearer 4,000.)

Honestly, seeing this happen to TheGamer isn't a surprise, though. This is just what the site's owner, Valnet, does. They buy up sites that were once successful, rip out everything that made them distinctive and unique — i.e. the people who worked hard on establishing the site's identity — then proceed to replace everything with slop. I would not be surprised at all if in short order we start seeing casino advertorials and AI-generated garbage on what remains of TheGamer.

Valnet and their big rival, Gamurs, are a scourge on what was once a thriving sector. They both take this model: they buy "verticals" (ugh) that they want to add to their portfolio, and then think that just because they now own, say, Polygon, that they have unlocked an infinite money glitch. But they have not — for a variety of reasons, not which is the model on which ad-supported commercial games journalism has been forced to operate for years now.

This article by Luke Plunkett of Aftermath sums it up nicely: these sites had been stuck in operating in the same way as 2000s-era Kotaku, which is to post as much as possible, as often as possible, and it didn't matter too much if nothing of any real substance was being said. It was all about the content.

I've been through this, too. During my time on both GamePro and USgamer, I was specifically hired to be someone who operated on a different time zone to the rest of the staff, with my responsibility being to ensure that there were things ready to read on the site by the time North America woke up. These typically end up being "news" posts, which, in the churn of having to produce so much content every day, often end up being little more than you could learn from just following a company's social media account or signing up to their mailing list.

"Guide content", that odious practice where every single site has to have 5,000 articles explaining every minutiae of every hot new game (and often badly, to boot), is also at play here, with the entire Internet gradually being flooded by "what is today's Wordle solution?" posts, individual articles explaining each and every shrine in The Legend of Zelda (often badly) and inconclusive, vapid answers to questions no-one was really asking with any great seriousness. It's all about the pursuit of endless, relentless content, and it doesn't matter if it's any good or not, it just has to be fresh, constantly updated and now.

And it sucks! It's not doing anyone any good! It's not making the writers on these sites look good, it doesn't make the games they're covering look good, it doesn't make the site look good, and it doesn't inform the readership of anything worthwhile. It just means those readers have something new to scroll through every time they refresh the page while they're staring, glassy-eyed, at their phone for the 14th consecutive hour that day.

It sucks that it has to be this way, too, because the presence of a specialist press is important. The idea that we might, one day, be completely without a games press altogether is absolutely baffling, but with every round of layoffs like the one we've seen today, we get closer to that dystopia.

Reader-supported sites such as Aftermath, 404 Media (not games, but relevant) and Giant Bomb are doing great work, but it remains to be seen how sustainable that model is — particularly as so many of the bloody things are starting to pop up that it is no longer possible or affordable for anyone to be "widely read" when it comes to good-quality games coverage. That's not necessarily a bad thing, given that back in the '80s and '90s we tended to be loyal to individual magazines rather than reading all of them, but it's a big shift in how the Internet has traditionally worked.

I don't even know what to think any more. It's bleak out there. And I wonder if it's ever going to get better again. I just want to have some fun websites to read again, by people who know their craft and are passionate about it. We used to have that — why can't we have that again? Why can't we have 1up.com again?

Those are rhetorical questions.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

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#oneaday Day 116: Should you finish a game before talking about it?

I've seen some discussion about the above topic recently, largely as a result of some idiotic blowhard on the dying, burning remains of Twitter making the bizarre assertion that all games journalists should be obliged to upload full, unedited footage of them playing every game they cover to "prove" that they played it properly and to demonstrate their "authentic" reactions.

This is, of course, absolutely unworkable today, particularly for those working in the more "mainstream" end of gaming, where sprawling games that want to be your one and only game forever (or at least until their next annualised installment comes out) have been creeping towards being the norm for a while now. But it's also unworkable for those working in niche spaces, be that esports, visual novels, role-playing games or any other sectors you might care to mention. There simply isn't time.

Now, I have mixed feelings about this, because back when my brother was in charge of Electronic Gaming Monthly and The Official U.S. PlayStation Magazine at Ziff-Davis, I vaguely recall him saying that he expected his writers to finish everything they wrote about — and this was, in the case of EGM, a publication where each reviewer had to write approximately 50-100 words at most, given the way their reviews were handled.

The reason I recall this is that one time when my parents and I were visiting him in the States, I was able to spend the day with him in his office (and I have oddly vivid memories of someone's computer in the office having something saying "Lucky sonuvabitch" every time they got an email) and he tasked me with playing through Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver (now available on Evercade, don'tchaknow!). I forget exactly why, but I suspect it was so he could make effective use of my time while I was there, get my thoughts on it, and then use my experiences playing the game to give him a head start on writing something. Possibly. Maybe. Anyway, regardless of the circumstances, I have a memory in my head that I'm fairly convinced is real that says "my brother once expected all of his staff to beat every game before they reviewed it".

In the PS1 era, this was probably practical. RPGs were a thing, sure, but they came out relatively infrequently in English (even more infrequently if you were unfortunate enough to be European) and often long after their Japanese releases, so there was plenty of advance notice to get these done. And other games were significantly shorter, tending to be somewhere between 2 and 10 hours on average, with the odd exception in both directions. (Ridge Racer? 20 minutes. Dragon Quest VII? Yes, I know it's an RPG, but 150+ hours.)

We also had a lot more in the way of "arcade style" games that were split into short levels or missions, or games that were highly replayable — Ridge Racer may be 20 minutes, but it's 20 minutes you'll be happy to spend again and again. Thus it seems perfectly reasonable to expect a games journo to play through everything they might be writing about.

These days? Absolutely definitely not, although there is still something to be said for allowing a writer to provide a full, in-depth discussion of a game after completing all of it. After all, it's kind of absurd to suggest that it's possible to "review" a visual novel without reading all of it, as the whole point of the damn thing is the story. Sure, you can probably give a wiffly-waffly "buyer's guide"-type review saying what you think of the graphics, sound and interface, but if you want to actually discuss and critique it, you need to have played all of it.

I think the distinction between "review as buyer's guide" (which is basically what a lot of people online want) and "review as quasi-academic critique" (which is what a lot of writers want, but rarely get the time to indulge in) is an important one here. The former can be done after just an hour or two of play at most. The latter requires more in-depth research. The former can be shat out for an embargo date. The latter is something best served for well after launch.

Unfortunately, the modern Internet doesn't tend to really reward the latter approach at all until well after the fact — and then only if a game ends up commonly agreed to be some sort of "hidden gem" or "best game that no-one played" or whatever. It increasingly leads me to the conclusion that the very best approach to games writing if all you're concerned about is the quality of the writing is to say "fuck it" to anything that is brand new, and instead focus on games that came out ages ago. Perhaps even generations ago. In-depth explorations of those games are the pieces people are still going to be reading for years to come — and it's what I've always striven for with the stuff I've done on MoeGamer, because it's what I like to read.

I don't give a shit if the latest Assassin's Creed is the same or a bit different from the last one. I do care if some obscure PS2 RPG from 20 years ago is actually the best thing ever and still kind of cheap because no-one bought it or knows its name.

Ah, who am I kidding. RPGs are never cheap.

Anyway, I guess my answer to the question in the title is "no, if you're reviewing something current in a buyer's guide style", but "yes, if you're aiming for quasi-academic critique or analysis". And even then, there's wiggle room. Even recently, I wrote about a couple of the games in UFO 50 before I'd technically "beaten" them, because I'd gained enough knowledge of how they worked to be able to comment on them authoritatively. (I then promptly beat them shortly after writing about them, much to my satisfaction!)

So no. Games journos should not be expected to upload full, unedited gameplay footage of them playing through (and reacting to) a game for review. That's absolutely absurd. But I do feel like we should strive for better in our games criticism and analysis. Those "buyer's guide" reviews do not stand the test of time very well, whereas articles that take the time to really get to know a game and find out what makes it tick are what insufferable SEO types like to call "evergreen content". And, as much as I hate to agree with anyone who enjoys SEO, it's those articles that people are going to come back to years after a game's release to find out all about it.

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2525: The "Politics in Games" Thing

This article appeared on industry-centric gaming publication GI.biz recently, and it's fair to say it's rustled a few jimmies around the Internet.

Not without good reason, it has to be said, because the arguments made therein are, quite frankly, getting into some batshit crazytown conspiracy theory territory — ironically while accusing the gaming community themselves of becoming embroiled in conspiracy theories of their own.

The main thrust of the article — a central, flawed assumption — can be found in the first paragraph. "'Keep Politics Out Of My Games' was a snappy rallying cry," writes author Rob Fahey, "but it was never an option."

Thing is, very few people are arguing to "keep politics out of games" completely. What people do, however, object to is the injection of politics into gaming criticism when it's unwarranted, unnecessary, obtrusive and, frankly, rather predictably dull. Mainstream outlet Polygon is perhaps the most egregious example of this; the site's reviews have become such a joke to many with their over-reliance on so-called "progressive politics" that they're the subject of frequent parody and satire. This, after all, is the site that complained about The Witcher not having enough black people in it, and a site that previewed Rock Band 4 with an article expressing how bored the author was at the PR event, and how he longed to talk to someone about politics in the Phillipines.

Outside of the more ridiculous examples like this, passionate gamers, particularly those into smaller-scale games from Japan, have also lost patience with games being unfairly derided beneath the bulletproof umbrella that is "feminist criticism". Series such as Senran Kagura have frequently been lambasted for supposed sexism when in fact all they are is sexual, and that's not even the main point of their existence. These ill-informed critics that post lengthy screeds deriding the lengths of the characters skirts and the size of their breasts never bother to look any further than the superficial appearance of the game; they never bother to explore the games' treatment of sexuality, or of teenagers going through their own personal journeys of self-discovery, or of the series' intriguing and fascinating exploration of the concepts of "good" and "evil".

The most recent game in the firing line for "feminist" critics is Final Fantasy XV, for two main reasons: firstly, the all-male party of playable characters, and secondly the existence of the character Cindy. The former, these critics argue, are nothing more than a male power fantasy, while the latter, they say, is nothing more than male-gaze sexualisation.

Let's unpack both of these for a moment, if you'll forgive the digression from the original point. The main cast of Final Fantasy XV are themselves a diverse group of individuals despite all being male. Noctis is a young man who is attempting to come to terms with new-found responsibility and terrible loss; Prompto is of a similar age, but filled with youthful exuberance; Ignis is calm, mature and very much the "big brother" of the group; Gladio is the closest we get to a "male power fantasy", though it's abundantly clear he's been designed very much with female players in mind, much like his fellow cast members.

The cast spend a lot of time not doing particularly "manly" things. They're completely incompetent when it comes to maintaining their car, for example — the game's opening sees them having broken down and having no idea what to do about it save for pushing it to the nearest garage — and in the latter hours of the story they spend an awful lot of time crying and saying how much they love each other. Ignis cooks ostentatious feasts. Prompto takes selfies like a teenage girl. And while Gladio remains stoic for a lot of the time, his obsession with Cup Noodles shows that he has a softer side too.

As for Cindy, well. Firstly, her outfit is provocative, yes, but she lives in an area of the map where characters are constantly complaining how hot it is, so it's unsurprising she's chosen to wear something that shows a bit of skin. On top of that, she works in an enclosed space with machinery, which is likely to make things even hotter.

But her outfit isn't even important, and judging her purely based on her appearance — as a number of self-consciously "progressive" critics have done — is quite literal objectification, failing to take into account any of her reasons for doing so and, more importantly, her importance as a character.

Cindy is an important character in the story, and moreover, she's one of the most capable characters in the story. As a woman, she dominates the typically "masculine" world of car maintenance, putting the main cast to shame with her technical knowledge and ability to repair, retune and customise the Regalia to their specifications. Despite Prompto in particular being obsessed with her beauty, all of the guys acknowledge that she is married to her work and consequently none of them are likely to get a look in. Indeed, despite a slightly flirtatious manner at times, Cindy is all business for the most part, while the four boys of the main cast are the ones who are more likely to talk about love and their feelings. Doesn't sound very "male power fantasy" to me.

As I say, I digress, because I don't want this to turn into a Final Fantasy XV article all of a sudden, but what I've just pointed out there hopefully demonstrates the disparity between what the self-described "progressive" types are accusing Final Fantasy XV — and numerous other games like it — of, and what is actually going on.

The clarion call to "get politics out of my games" is not, then, a call to remove progressive themes from games at all. It is, however, a call for virtue-signalling progressive types to actually take a closer look at the media they are attempting to criticise, and acknowledge that more often than not, it's doing things a lot better than they'd care to admit. And you don't need a game to effectively go "LOOK, WE HAVE A BLACK GAY TRANSGENDER PROTAGONIST" to be truly progressive; indeed, the very best form of "diversity" is that which you barely notice until you think analytically about it after the fact.

2461: Gratuitous Self-Promotion

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Hey, you. If you're reading this, chances are you know me in some capacity or another, either online, offline or perhaps both. You may even follow this blog on a semi-regular basis, in which case thank you very much for enduring my directionless rambling.

Some of you may not be aware that I have another site, however; one with a bit more "structure" to its content, but also with a regular posting schedule. Some of you may already be aware of it, but perhaps haven't checked it out for a while. And some of you may already be loyal readers, in which case, again, thank you very much.

My other site is called MoeGamer and you can find it at http://moegamer.net.

MoeGamer has a pretty straightforward mission: to provide detailed and in-depth coverage of Japanese and Japanese-inspired games that often don't get the attention they deserve in the mainstream press — or, in the worst cases, get written off for one reason or another, usually on the grounds that they're "pervy".

I started it as a continuation of a regular, weekly column I had when I worked as USgamer; dubbed JPgamer, the column built up an audience of regular readers who appreciated what I did for these games, which was something that many other sites didn't bother with, particularly in this age of growing and obnoxious political correctness that seems inclined to brand anything with pretty girls in as "problematic". After I was laid off from USgamer, I decided to start MoeGamer simply to continue what I was doing with JPgamer, but over the course of the last few months I've been building it into something bigger.

Back in March of this year, I decided to reboot MoeGamer into something with a bit more structure; prior to this point, I had simply posted content on it whenever I felt like it and about whatever topics I saw fit. This meant that there were often long periods of time when I didn't post anything, and I wasn't happy with that.

As such, my reboot of the site sees me posting on a weekly basis, with a specific focus on a "cover game" for a month-long period. Over the course of four articles, I explore these cover games from a variety of perspectives: a look at their historical context; an exploration of their mechanics; a deep-dive into their narrative, themes and characterisation; and a look at their audio-visual aesthetics. This has proven to be a good way for me to talk about each of these games in as much detail as I'd like without overwhelming readers with a single, insanely long article. (Make no mistake, this is still long-form writing, however, because I believe there's plenty of people out there still hungry for detailed writing even as the collective attention span of Internet denizens has gone right down the toilet in the last few years.)

MoeGamer is primarily intended for existing enthusiasts of Japanese (and Japan-inspired) gaming and entertainment, but I make a conscious effort with each piece to keep things accessible to everyone without any assumed knowledge. The order in which I chose to post the articles about each "cover game" was deliberate, too: talking about a game's history gives you the opportunity to introduce it in general terms to those who aren't familiar with it, then a discussion of its mechanics gives most people an idea of whether they'd enjoy playing it. After that, an analysis of its narrative is "taking things to the next level", as it were, and finally exploring its audio-visual aesthetic provides a good opportunity to provide "further reading" with regard to its art, music and inspirations.

In other words, don't feel like there's nothing for you on MoeGamer if you're not an existing fan of Japanese popular entertainment. I strive to make the site an informative, knowledgeable resource about some of the most interesting and underappreciated games on the market, from both yesterday and today, and hope that over the course of my articles, I can do my part to help dispel some of the unhelpful preconceptions that mainstream media perpetuates with regard to Japanese popular entertainment.

I'm doing this as a passion project at present, but a number of readers have been generous enough to pledge their support to my work via Patreon. At present, it's a much-appreciated trickle of money each month that perhaps pays for a new game or piece of equipment, but it would be a dream come true to make enough money from MoeGamer to call it an actual job. I'm skeptical as to whether that will ever happen, but in the meantime I'm eternally grateful for each and every person who has shown their support to the site. If you like the sound of what I'm doing, please do consider pledging a small amount per month and help me keep doing what I love doing — you can do so here.

If you can't spare any cash, that's fine, too; you can also show your support by paying the site a visit and sharing the articles you particularly enjoy with friends and family on social media. MoeGamer is not ad-supported (any ads which do appear are WordPress' work, not mine) and so remains clickbait-free, 100% guaranteed — share with confidence!

Thanks for your time and support. I hope you enjoy the content currently on MoeGamer, and which I've got planned for the coming months.

Here are some quick links you might be interested in:

October 2016's Cover Game: Gal*Gun Double Peace

Previous Cover Games

One Way Heroics (September 2016)
RPG Maker MV (August 2016)
Ys (July 2016)
Dungeon Travelers 2 (June 2016)
Megadimension Neptunia V-II (May 2016)
Senran Kagura Estival Versus (April 2016)

All games covered by MoeGamer to date (including one-off articles and content from before the revamp)

More about MoeGamer

Moe 101: the beginner's guide

2318: Rebooting in Progress

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You may recall a while back I decided to reboot my "sister site" to this blog, MoeGamer. Having now spent two months with my new format, I thought I'd revisit the idea here for the benefit of those who haven't checked in on it recently.

Essentially, my thinking behind MoeGamer's new format was to forgo the scattershot approach that games journalism and criticism today typically follows, and instead have a laser-sharp focus each month: a single game, or perhaps a series of games. Over the course of that month, I'd post a series of in-depth articles, each of which focused on a specific aspect of the game or series. By the time the month was up, there'd be a complete, substantial amount of writing about the game in question for readers to enjoy at their leisure, with the content remaining relevant long after it was written.

This is part of the problem with modern games journalism and criticism, and part of the reason it's so trapped in the clickbait quagmire that ruins it so much. The ever-present need to produce timely content to meet embargoes and line up with release dates means that games that often deserve better don't get the attention they deserve, and some games, as we've seen in the past, get a writeup of no value whatsoever, consisting entirely of the writer in question doing nothing but mocking the game and the people who like it without demonstrating any real evidence that they've bothered to try and engage with it on anything more than the most superficial level.

As I noted in my previous piece, though, because MoeGamer is a personal site that I write as a passion project, I'm not beholden to the fickle whims of advertising revenue and I have no obligation to bait people in with provocative headlines and articles about the creator of Minecraft calling someone a cunt (which, for what it's worth, he was perfectly within his rights to do, as the person whingeing at him was being a cunt). Instead, I can explore games that have proven meaningful or interesting to me; games that are worthy of discussion. I can be positive about them, too, highlighting the things they do differently or particularly well and giving people reasons to check them out rather than, as so often happens with reviews today, reasons to avoid them.

The positivity thing in particular is something I feel strongly about. There seems to be a perception in a lot of modern criticism that you're not doing your job properly if you're not tearing something apart or telling it things it should do better. While there is value in this sort of criticism at times, it's very easy to start reaching for things that are of little relevance to the work as a whole. Polygon's infamous review of The Witcher 3 that complained about the lack of black people in a world inspired by Eastern European folklore is a good example, as is any writeup that bleats about sexism in an anime-style game without demonstrating any evidence of having explored the characters' backgrounds.

Personally speaking, the kind of writing about games that I like to read is positive in nature. Games that changed your life, games that had personal meaning, games that elicited emotional responses, games that people haven't heard of but should absolutely definitely positively check out. It is eminently possible to remain positive about things and still write interesting, compelling content, and it has the pleasant side-effect of creating a positive atmosphere around the articles, too, which encourages discussion and anecdotes of what the work in question means to other people. (There are exceptions, of course, as with most things on the Internet, but most people I know seem to respond far better to positive, enthusiastic writeups than ill-informed, poorly researched pieces that tear things apart unfairly.)

So that's what I'm doing with MoeGamer. So far I've covered Senran Kagura Estival Versus and Megadimension Neptunia V-II. Next month I'll be tackling Dungeon Travelers 2. Beyond that, I have a whole shelf full of games that I'm very interested in exploring in this level of depth, and I hope at least some of you enjoy reading my thoughts on them.

2257: Rebooting MoeGamer

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I've already written a substantial post over on my other site MoeGamer about a new plan I have to start writing more hefty long-form pieces on a regular basis, but I figured I'd write something here too. And, since I'm the sort of person who will happily write the same thing in two different ways because he enjoys the act of writing itself, I'm not just copying and pasting the text over, oh dear me no.

I'm rebooting MoeGamer. It's not a drastic reboot, change of theme, change of layout or anything like that: it's changing the way I'm thinking about it. To date (well, until last August) I posted on MoeGamer as and when I felt like it: when I particularly wanted to write about a favourite game, or when I particularly wanted to refute something stupid I'd seen from the mainstream press. ("There haven't been any good RPGs since Final Fantasy VII" was a good example; "Dungeon Travelers 2 is a creepy, porn-lite dungeon crawler" was another.) I made an effort to post pieces of several thousand words in length, much as if I'd be writing a feature article on a regular games site.

And that was fine, apart from a couple of issues, the major one being that it's very difficult to stay up to date on things to write about if you set yourself even quite a conservative schedule of posting. Eventually, the prospect of running out of things to write about became a bit demoralising, so I stopped to have a think and reflect on what I wanted to do with the site, if anything.

Today, Destructoid published a review of Dead or Alive Xtreme 3 which attracted some attention. Not only was it written by a writer with a lengthy track record of baiting the outrage brigade at every opportunity, said writer took the opportunity to insult both the game and the people who might be interested in it over the course of his article. And, once again, I was reminded of the woeful inadequacy of the mainstream games press when covering more specialist titles such as modern Japanese games.

As foul a taste as the review left in my mouth, it gave me an idea. Why not try doing something completely different? By not being beholden to advertising revenue, I have the freedom to wax lyrical about games I find interesting or noteworthy as much as I want. And in-depth analysis is what these games in particular are sorely lacking. Now, I'm not particularly saying Dead or Alive Xtreme 3 is necessarily worth some in-depth analysis — although I haven't played it yet, so couldn't say for sure — but there are plenty of games out there which are being done an enormous disservice by games journalists who either don't have the time to invest in 100+ hour RPGs, or who feel "this game is about boobs" is somehow sufficient to describe Senran Kagura.

Much of the problems with modern games criticism come from the twin pressures of time and performance. Everything posted on a site has to perform well, and it has to be timely, otherwise the ad revenue will be shit and no-one will get paid. Unfortunately, this leads to clickbait of various forms — most commonly of the outrage variety these days. I don't necessarily blame the games journos themselves for this — though there are certain writers, whom I shall refrain from naming for the moment, who can eat a thousand dicks over their incompetent coverage of games that deserve better — because I know from experience they quite simply don't have the time to explore a game fully in the same way a regular ol' player will.

But I do. Because I'm a regular ol' player. So why not leverage that fact and take an extremely in-depth look at a game after the fact, pick apart why it's noteworthy (or not) from several different angles, and ultimately build up a library of deep, interesting analyses of games that don't get the time of day from the mainstream games media?

The plan's pretty simple. Pick a game each month, focus exclusively on that. Write about its mechanics, narrative, aesthetics and context — going into a full article's worth of detail on each rather than trying to cram everything into a single "review". Add additional detail as appropriate. Move on to something new the following month. Repeat.

This approach gives me time to work my way through substantial games such as JRPGs and visual novels and complete them to my satisfaction, then write about them in detail. It provides a suitable structure for me to post content regularly. And it provides a variety of perspectives for people who are interested in games for different reasons — not everyone's as much of a narrative junkie as I am!

I'm sure it'll be a challenge and I'll doubtless run into some hurdles along the way. But while I have the time to pursue various creative endeavours, it's probably best I do that rather than sitting at home twiddling my thumbs and occasionally bursting into tears at the fact I still don't have an actual job.

I'll be kicking off this new-style MoeGamer at the beginning of April with coverage of the recently released Senran Kagura Estival Versus, and taking things from there. I'm looking forward to this new challenge, and I hope you'll be interested to read my work.

2254: The Irritating Trend of Gleeful Negativity

Earlier today, a rumour broke that Nintendo would supposedly be stopping Wii U production by the end of this year. Nintendo subsequently denied this, of course — even if it turns out to be true, Nintendo keeps an Apple-esque veil of secrecy over all its upcoming plans and doesn't tend to comment on rumours and speculation.

Predictably, as soon as the first report was published, everyone was all over the news like vultures circling a still-warm corpse. The Wii U is arguably tied with the Vita as the gaming industry's favourite whipping-boy, and it honestly makes me feel a little disgusted at the amount of glee some people seemed to be directing at the prospect of what is a very good console — albeit less powerful than its Sony and Microsoft counterparts in this generation — going the way of the Dreamcast.

Nintendo aren't particularly popular with certain groups of gamers at the moment, largely due to the controversy surrounding the English localisations of Fire Emblem Fates and Bravely Second due to perceived unwelcome pressure from sociopolitical groups. Regardless of whether or not the decisions made for those games were mistakes or not — and sales figures for Fire Emblem certainly seem to suggest that there are a lot of people who aren't particularly bothered — Nintendo is still in a unique position in the business, however: they have a console platform that is completely separate from its competitors, which is the only place to play certain games, and which is still the only place to play first-party Nintendo games.

Platform exclusives might not be as much of a big deal as they used to be — both Sony and Microsoft's first-party work in recent years has been a little lacklustre for the most part — but they're still Nintendo's bread and butter. Super Mario, Mario Kart, Super Smash Bros. and Zelda are all staples of any Nintendo platform, and with the Wii and Wii U generations we've added Splatoon and the Xenoblade series to that list. All very strong, polished games; all games that make the Wii U a unique console with a ton of its own character.

This is what bugs me, y'see: the most important thing about a games console is the software library that runs on it — the games. And the Wii U, despite not being the most technologically advanced system on the market, has some of the very best games in recent years available for it. Not only that, but it continues to fly the flag for family-friendly gaming while Sony and Microsoft primarily court the gritty realism of modern triple-A titles. Wii U games, for the most part, are awash with primary colours, cheerful music and the clear self-awareness that they are games; they're not trying to be movies, or works of art, or anything like that: they're just trying to be a ton of fun for their audience — and succeeding.

But despite that strong (albeit small) library of games for the system, it's everything else about Nintendo's system that gets criticised: so much so that the worthwhile achievements of the games — and make no mistake, there are enough good games available for Wii U to make purchasing one worthwhile — get overshadowed. Their online system sucks! (Except all these bits that don't!) Their marketing is rubbish! (You're not helping!) The controller is weird! (Play Splatoon with it, then tell me that's not infinitely better than playing an FPS/TPS with a regular gamepad!) You can't buy new GamePads! (Then don't break it!) Their downloadable games are too expensive! (Then don't buy them!)

I'm being facetious to an extent — there are valid criticisms to be made of much of what Nintendo has done in recent years, but there's also a lot to praise. And when it comes down to it, none of these criticisms are particularly important to the Wii U doing what it is primarily designed to do: to play games.

Which is why I get so frustrated when I see people who don't own Wii U's revelling in its "failure". And why I get so frustrated with a media who will post 57 articles about the latest mediocre triple-A blockbuster game to be released on Xbox One and PlayStation 4, yet barely mention the incredible technical achievement of something like Xenoblade Chronicles X. It's part of an increasingly overwhelming culture of gleeful negativity in all aspects of society: schadenfreude has always been a thing, of course, but there seems to be an increasing number of people out there who do nothing but piss, moan and complain about absolutely everything rather than finding something they do like and enjoying it — either quietly or, as I tend to do, as loudly as possible so other people might be able to discover and enjoy the things I've grown to love.

Still. If the Wii U does fail and does cease production this year, it's all but assured a place in gaming's Valhalla alongside Sega's Dreamcast: consoles dead before their time, with libraries of great games that only a few people played when they first came out, and that more and more people regret getting rid of when they become super-rare a few years down the line. Yep, I'll be holding on to mine for sure; I may not have a ton of games for it, but those that I do have are among my favourites in my game collection.

And no, you may not borrow Xenoblade Chronicles X in five years' time.

2248: Pinning Down the Problem with Coverage of Niche Games Like Senran Kagura

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I made a mistake last night; actually, I made two. I read a Kotaku article, and then I commented on it.

The article in question was Mike Fahey's "Let's See How Long it Takes Senran Kagura to Make You Uncomfortable", which took the form of a Let's Play of the first half an hour of the game — well, the first half an hour of story, to be precise, up to the opening credits — and which was written in an obnoxiously holier-than-thou tone, with Fahey claiming that he is okay with fanservice, but then going on to completely contradict himself by not engaging with latest Senran Kagura game Estival Versus on anything more than the most superficial level.

I'm not going to take that article apart piece by piece because I already did that in my comment, which, within two replies, had me being accused of being a paedophile — how predictable thou art, Internet — but instead I want to talk a bit more broadly about what I think the issue is with coverage of popular but niche-interest titles such as Senran Kagura and Japanese games in general.

Sex.

Not the presence of sexual, titillating, provocative, ecchi or even hentai content; I'm all for that, and happy whenever games feature it in an unabashed manner. But the fact that whenever mainstream games writers come across one of these games, that is all they can fucking talk about.

Let's focus specifically on Senran Kagura for a moment. As legend has it, Senran Kagura as a series exists because creator Kenichiro Takaki wanted to see boobs popping out of the Nintendo 3DS' stereoscopic 3D screen. A shallow inspiration, for sure, and if he'd left it at that — if Senran Kagura had been nothing but pretty girls thrusting their boobs in your face — then the series would have sunk without trace before it even became a series. Instead, we're now confronted with Estival Versus, which is the sixth game in a series that has only been around since 2011 — a series which shows no sign of slowing down and, rather, much like fellow beloved niche series Neptunia, continues to go from strength to strength with each installment.

Surely "3D boobs" aren't enough to carry six games' worth of content, though, I hear you say, and you'd be absolutely right. The reason why Senran Kagura is so popular, and why it now spans four different platforms (Vita, PS4, 3DS and mobile) is because for all Takaki's bluster about "tits are life, ass is hometown", it is extremely, painfully obvious throughout every installment of the series that both Takaki and the people he works with absolutely adore these characters and want to tell interesting, enjoyable, emotional and thought-provoking stories with them. They also want to tell silly, funny, self-parodying stories with them. And they want us to watch these girls grow up, both as young women and as trainee shinobi. In other words, they want us to think of the complete Senran Kagura cast as, effectively, a set of "virtual actors" who can come back time and time again in different games, and fans will follow because they want to see what their favourite characters are up to, not because they want to see 3D boobs.

This is the frustrating thing that pieces such as Fahey's nonsense completely fails to take into account. Sexuality is part of Senran Kagura's aesthetic and appeal, sure, but it's not the main point. There are far more interesting things to talk about, such as the relationships between the girls, the nature of good and evil, the series' extensive use of Japanese mythology (specifically the subject of youma), the juxtaposition between the narratives' slice of life elements and the more fantastical shinobi elements, and how each and every one of those characters has gone on a significant personal, emotional journey since their first appearance in their respective games. (Mobile game New Wave is arguably the exception to this, being your bog-standard Mobage virtual collectible card game with non-existent gameplay, but, what with it being a mobile game, I don't really take it particularly seriously anyway.)

To put it another way, when writing about Senran Kagura — or indeed any other Japanese game that decides to make use of a provocative art style or aesthetic — focusing entirely on the sexual elements and how "weird" they are or how "uncomfortable" they make you feel is doing both the game and the audience an enormous disservice. The majority of the games' audience know what they're getting into with regard to the fanservice, so they probably want to hear more about what makes each particular installment unique; what the most interesting parts of the narrative are; whether they stand by themselves or fit into a larger narrative — that sort of thing. Focusing on sexuality and how "problematic" this sort of thing is is nothing but lazy writing that requires little to no research; indeed, when Senran Kagura 2 came out last year, there was at least one review that proudly stated it was based on less than half an hour of playtime, and I'm honestly surprised we haven't seen more Estival Versus bullshit. The European release isn't until Friday, so perhaps there will be some more then — or perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised. I'm not holding my breath.

What I want to see, then, is someone covering a title like Senran Kagura and treating the sexy stuff as just what it is: part of how the game looks, but not the point. I'd even like to see someone challenge themselves to write about it without mentioning the sexy stuff at all if they didn't think it was directly relevant to what they found interesting. I want to see someone engaging with it on a personal, emotional level: how did the story make them feel? Which characters did they relate to? Were they particularly attached to any specific pairings of characters? Which characters did they enjoy playing as, and did that match up with the characters they liked as people? Did they learn anything from the experience? Did they come away from the experience feeling like they had taken something away from it, either emotionally or in terms of knowledge or skills?

These sorts of things are surely basic questions when it comes to criticism of creative works, but it seems they're too far beyond your average games journalist in 2016, who would rather post animated GIFs, talk about how jiggly boobies make his swimsuit area feel a bit funny and make implicit assumptions about people who do like this sort of thing — assumptions that are further reinforced by the attitudes of people in the comments section, who make people with differing viewpoints afraid to speak their mind for fear of being branded as something extremely unpleasant.#

The sad thing is that something like Senran Kagura ticks a whole lot of boxes that these hand-wringing idiots claim to want from their games: powerful, non-submissive women in lead roles; the presence of "people of colour" (God how I hate that fucking phrase); stories that acknowledge the complexity of emotions within the human heart and mind; gameplay that reflects the narrative themes; sensitive treatment of distinctly "adult" concepts, including trauma… the list goes on.

And yet because boobs, they either fail to see — or deliberately ignore — the presence of all these things. That's just sad; not (just) because I'm fed up of reading this sort of spastic dribbling on wannabe tabloid sites (not to mention feeling the need to write my own spastic dribbling in response) but because there are a lot of people out there who are deliberately, willfully depriving themselves of some excellent, intriguing, engaging and emotional gaming experiences, all because they can't look past something a bit sexy.

As I said on Twitter earlier today: thank heavens for social media and personal blogs, at least, where people who are actually into this sort of thing can find one another and enthuse about the things they love at great length without worrying about offending the always-offended. I just wish we hadn't been so let down by the media.

2246: Games Journalists, Please Think of Something More Imaginative Than These Articles

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While browsing Twitter yesterday, I happened to notice a piece from my former place of employment USgamer pondering that age-old question "which Zelda game is best?" — presumably to tie in with the recent release of Twilight Princess HD on Wii U. (EDIT: I've just noticed that to add further clickbait to injury, it was split into three completely separate articles, one covering 25-18, another covering 17-11, and a final one covering the top 10.)

Now, "which Zelda game is best?" is a reasonable question to ask — I've asked it myself, back when I was getting back into the series a month or two ago — but it is a question that has been answered many hundreds of times already, both by gaming websites ("professionals") and the general public, too and, to be frank, we haven't had a genuinely new Zelda game for quite a while. Moreover, it's not a question that there is a definitive answer to; the entirely subjective stuff of playground arguments and, indeed, Internet arguments.

I found myself getting a bit annoyed at the sight of this article, though, because it just felt like such a lazy, obviously clickbaity attempt to cash in on the recent Zelda release, and just a lazy idea for an article in general. As I say, it's an article that has been written many times before by numerous different websites, and one that really didn't need to be written again. It is far from the only example of this sort of ever-present non-discussion coming up in games journalism as a side-effect of clickbait culture, though, and it's frustrating to see; when there are thousands and thousands of great, interesting, remarkable, unusual, weird games out there that these writers could be covering and they instead post the same article that they themselves have probably written before for a different site, they are doing a bad job writing about games.

With that in mind, here is a list of game articles I would like to never, ever see ever again on any website, not because they're necessarily bad ideas for articles, but because they've been done many, many, many times before. Use your imagination. Write something new.

Which Zelda Game is Best?
Those Zelda CD-i Games Sure Were Shit
Which Mario Game is Best?
Which Metroid Game is Best?
Which Nintendo First-Party Franchise is Best?
Gosh, Dark Souls is Hard
Dark Souls isn't Hard, You Just Have to Learn How to Play
[obscure indie game] is the Dark Souls of [unrelated genre]
Goodness Gracious, Battletoads was Hard
That One Level in Battletoads was Really Hard, Even Compared to the Rest of the Game
Which Final Fantasy Game is Best?
Where Did Final Fantasy Lose its Way?
Player Makes Thing in Minecraft
The Ten Best Xbox One/Xbox 360/PlayStation 3/PlayStation 4/Wii U/3DS/Vita Games
PlayStation 2 Classics That Deserve a Re-Release (actually, you can have this one if you pick something that isn't immediately obvious to everyone who ever owned a PS2)
The HD Remasters We Really Want (see above)
Ubisoft is Releasing an Open-World Game
Activision is Releasing a Call of Duty Game
Mobile Games Make Lots of Money
There Aren't Enough Women in Games (bonus points if you cry "sexism" on a game that actually has excellent female characters)
There Are Still People Playing World of Warcraft
I'm Scared of Boobs
Gamers are Horrible People
Anita Sarkeesian Says Something
Vita Games Don't Sell Many Copies
Vita is Dead
PlayStation 4 Has No Games
Xbox One Has No Games
Wii U Has No Games
Wii U is Dead
Nintendo is Dead
Hah, That Super Mario Bros. Movie was Rubbish, Wasn't It?
[Franchise] [vaguely related verb] onto [platform], e.g. Ridge Racer Screams onto PlayStation. (You can have this if you deliberately make the verb a completely inappropriate non-sequitur. Ridge Racer Masticates onto PlayStation)
Here's a Weird Thing from Japan, Judge It
Can Games Be Art?
Sonic the Hedgehog Used to Be Good
What's Next for [annualised series]?
Michael Pachter Says Something Blindingly Obvious
[popular annualised franchise] Sells [large number] of Copies
A Movie that People Who Like Games Might Like Came Out Recently, It Has Nothing to Do with Games but We Think You Want to Hear About It Anyway
Look, Star Wars

Ugh. It's depressing writing this list and realising how many times I've seen most of these on several different sites. We all know exactly why it happens, of course; these are the sorts of articles that either provoke an emotional response (and, consequently, clicks through to the comment section) or that are likely to be ranked highly on Google for unimaginative people searching for information.

In an ideal world, writing about games should be about the love of games, and the authors' passion for the things they're writing about should come through in their writing. Sometimes it does, but it happens a lot less frequently than it used to, and that's really sad.

At least I try and do my bit to show my passion for the things I love. I suggest you do too; if the press aren't going to provide, it's up to the public to provide the more valuable insights.

2243: Issue 2 of the Digitally Downloaded Magazine is Now Available

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Hello! I'm rather pleased to announce that, as the header says, the second edition of the Digitally Downloaded magazine, put together by me and Mr Matt Sainsbury (from the site of the same name), is now available. You can read it here, or hopefully it will embed correctly below.

The topic is "fanservice", but we're not limiting ourselves to the tits and ass variety of fanservice; no, we take on fanservice in all its forms, including life and hometown as a deliberate aesthetic choice, continuity fanservice, plain ol' titillation and fanservice as characterisation.

The specific games we cover in the magazine range from Senran Kagura to Hatsune Miku: Project Diva F via Final Fantasy XIV and Sonic and Sega All-Stars Racing Transformed — quite an eclectic mix of games to cover, I think you'll agree. There's also an interesting interview with some Aussie developers who are making their own take on the Zero Escape/Danganronpa formula and deliberately incorporating fanservice for an authentically Japanese-style feel, plus some lovely pictures of Digitally Downloaded mascot Danica "DeeDee" Dee.

I'm really pleased with how this project is coming together, and response to the magazine so far has been good. With each issue, we'll try something new, and hopefully we'll be able to make this a long-running feature. I'm certainly having a blast doing games writing the way it used to be done… or rather, a distinctly 21st century take on print format games writing.

Next issue we'll be covering the thorny topic of "not-games" — those experiences that critics are quick to (often unreasonably) brand "not a game" for not falling into neat genre categories, or perhaps not incorporating traditional "gameplay" in the way you might expect. Yes, we'll be exploring the walking simulators, software toys, visual novels and other interesting interactive entertainment experiences of the world in an attempt to figure out why these titles "not being games" bothers some people quite so much.

Matt and I hope you enjoy the magazine; please share it around and let people know about it! If you like what you see, please consider throwing us a few quid via Patreon; you can find Matt's page here, and mine here.