2162: That Not-So-Wonderful Time of the Year

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It seems to me that this holiday season has been, for many people, a period of inordinately, disproportionately Bad Times. I’ve had some shittiness to deal with myself, which I won’t go into here, but just from browsing my Twitter feed each day it’s clear that I’m not alone in having a tough time of it right now.

This post, then, is perhaps to reassure those who are feeling a similar way that they’re not alone, that there are other people out there who understand the way they are feeling, and who would hang out with them, play video games with them, share lewd pictures of anime girls with them and/or hug them as appropriate. I say this as someone who would enjoy all of the above with the people I’m talking about.

This holiday season feels like a highly concentrated form of the tension that has permeated all of 2015. There’s been a thoroughly unpleasant undercurrent of “walking on eggshells” with regard to political correctness, and it feels like it’s been coming to a head recently.

Arguments over whether or not Hermione in the Harry Potter series is black erupted today, with both sides attempting to claim some sort of moral superiority in a frankly rather childish, stupid and utterly pointless conflict that didn’t need to happen in the first place. But this is far from the only thing that’s been highly charged; even the new Star Wars movie became politicised, with some commentators making more of the fact that its leads feature a black person and a woman than the fact that, by all accounts, The Force Awakens appears to be something of a return to form for the series.

Among it all, the ever-bubbling conflict between the so-called “Social Justice Warriors” — blowhards who want to look like they’re saying the “right” things with regard to political correctness, but who are actually just seeking glory for themselves rather than having any real interest in changing society for the better — and people who just want to be left the fuck alone to enjoy whatever they want has continued, with the former group in particular continuing its trend of making wild accusations without any sort of proof, blaming all of society’s ills on “GamerGate” and “the Men’s Rights Activists” rather than taking the time to get to know any members of these groups and contemplate why they are at loggerheads.

This perpetual “culture war” makes me incredibly sad, because it has poisoned what used to be lively and interesting public discussion and debate over subjects such as video games. Anita Sarkeesian’s appearance on the scene, with her oh-so-brave step of saying that sometimes common tropes in video games favour men over women — while conveniently ignoring the hundreds, even thousands, of excellent female characters in gaming — acted as a catalyst for all manner of nutjobs to come out of the woodwork, and this whole movement seems to have grown in prominence by a huge amount in the last year. Fans of Japanese games and anime on social media are particularly perturbed that there are no mainstream sites remaining that are willing to give niche Japanese titles the time of day, instead preferring to look at them on a superficial level, brand them “sexist” or “misogynist” and move on, when in fact, in many cases, these “otaku games” are far more progressive than any bullshit these loudmouths might come up with. Seeing these discussions makes me all the more sad that I was strongarmed out of my position at USgamer, where, as many of you know, I ran a weekly JPgamer column, celebrating the weird and wonderful entertainment that our friends in the East — and the intrepid localisation teams — brought us.

It’s not so much the lack of media representation that saddens me in this instance, though; it’s the sense of alienation I feel when I see people that I thought were friends starting to spout ill-informed nonsense in the name of being “progressive”. Mockery, public shaming and similar behaviours are not progressive, and I cannot support them or anyone who condones them — speaking as someone who was bullied throughout school, and who suffered a horrendous targeted harassment campaign a couple of years back, I know what harm dogpiling can do to your wellbeing. It surprises and upsets me to see friends who once suffered the effects of being publicly humiliated by these assholes now joining their ranks and gleefully indulging in that sort of reprehensible behaviour. A case of “if you can’t beat them, join them” perhaps — but whether or not that’s the case, it still sucks to feel like you don’t know someone any more.

This post has rambled and perhaps got a little off-topic somewhere along the way, but all these thoughts are swirling around my head right now, and this holiday season feels like something of a focal point for all the misery, tension and discomfort that 2015 has brought to numerous people I know, including myself. The world feels like it’s getting worse, not better, and when you’re someone who tries their best to be a good person and not hurt anyone, this is exceedingly frustrating and upsetting.

Hopefully 2016 will be a better time for everyone, but at this stage I’m not particularly confident. I hope I end up pleasantly surprised.

#oneaday, Day 2: Flubag

I can always tell when it’s the holiday season. Because the holiday season is the Time To Get Ill. Almost without fail every single year, at some point around Christmas/New Year, my body goes “Nope! Had enough. Here’s some snot. Happy Christmas!” and buggers off for a few days.

This year is no exception. I thought I’d escaped, because for the whole time I was over in California visiting my brother for the holidays, I was fine, despite everyone around me gradually sinking into a mire of barking repeatedly like someone with Spatchcock’s Ever-Coughing Syndrome. Including the dog. Who was actually barking, not coughing.

On the plane ride on the way home, though, I felt the illness hit. Several other Spatchcock’s sufferers on the flight coupled with yummy delicious recycled air being pumped around the cabin meant a breeding ground for germs. And sure enough… “Had enough. Here’s some snot. Happy Christmas!”

Well, you’re late, illness glands. And, you know, you really didn’t have to get me anything this year. I just got you a bunch of pills, and I know you don’t really like them that much.

The most irritating thing about suffering with Spatchcock’s Syndrome is how difficult it makes sleeping. When you lie down in bed with Spatchcock’s, you are constantly in one of two states: mouth-breathing, or coughing.

The mouth-breathing comes because your nose is so full of juicy snot that if you didn’t mouth-breathe you’d suffocate and die, and suffocating and dying because of snot would just be embarrassing. If you do happen to get to sleep whilst in the mouth-breathing phase, your snores will qualify as some of the most disgusting noises on the planet and will probably involve bubbling. If you are sleeping with anyone at the time, this is a sure-fire way to find out if they really love you or not.

The coughing usually comes when you manage to clear your nose a little bit, and inevitably brings up more snot to join the party. The noise and the irritation in your throat wakes you and anyone in the same building up, and once it passes you’re back to mouth-breathing again.

So you probably end up not sleeping until your brain is so devoid of power that it goes into laptop-style hibernation mode and fails to wake you up until lunchtime the next day. And because you slept at a weird time, you end up feeling crappy the next day, which compounds the whole situation further.

Eventually you just decide to not sleep any more until this dratted pox departs your system, during which time you gradually slip into a hallucinogenic fantasy which you can’t quite decide whether is good or bad or somewhere in between and then you die. Possibly.

I am grateful for one thing, though: at least it’s not full-on achey joints flu, which I’ve only been struck down with once at a time that happened to coincide with a Christmas I was set to spend alone in my house due to holiday retail work commitments and the rest of my family doing other things. Elsewhere. Without me.

Remind me why I want to get a job again?

#oneaday, Day 324: Humbug

It’s easy to be cynical about Christmas these days, given that it starts in mid-September and proceeds to get increasingly more present in the months leading up to December until it is eventually omnipresent. (Happy, Mr Hussick?) By the time it actually arrives, people are so thoroughly sick of the whole “Christmas” thing that they just want it over and done with for another few months until the whole thing starts over again.

It’s not like that for everyone, of course. I doubt that the kids out there are as cynical about Christmas. I certainly wasn’t when I was a kid; Christmas was a time to be excited. There was a different atmosphere about the whole day, and not just the tangible excitement over getting presents or eating copious amounts of turkey dinner. It felt like a special day when nothing could possibly go wrong, when it would be impossible for Bad Things of any description to happen.

I haven’t felt like that for years now. I forget the last time I felt that way, but I’m pretty sure it was back in my childhood. Perhaps there’s more to be said for the belief in Santa Claus than people give credit for. It doesn’t help that the last few Christmases I’ve had were pretty underwhelming at best and downright unpleasant at worst. The Christmas that I had to work over and then spent the best part of Christmas week lying in bed alone suffering with a strong bout of flu—proper flu, the “can’t get up because your whole body aches too much” flu—was a particular lowlight, but the events of the past year haven’t made me particularly feel like celebrating anything at any point.

I am spending this Christmas abroad, though, away from this cold, grey, depressing land. I’ll be over in the States, where I’ll be spending most of the time with my family, including my brother, his wife and his kids, whom I haven’t seen for some time. I saw John earlier this year, but it’s still been a while. I’ll also be spending at least one weekend with my very good friend Mr Chris Whittington, former host of the Squadron of Shame SquadCast, and hopefully we’ll get the chance to put together a special seasonal/end-of-year show for everyone to enjoy. Then we can kick 2010’s ass out the door and let it rot in the gutter like it deserves to.

I seem to recall having similar thoughts at the beginning of this year; that 2009 had been, on the whole, shitty for most people involved including myself, and many of us started 2010 with hope for the future. I can say with some confidence right now that I’m just happy to get to the end of each day at the moment. Any time I’ve had a bit of long-term hope for the future, what with job interviews for positions I’d give my right arm for, those hopes have ended up being dashed for one reason or another. So right now it appears to be something of a case of taking each day as it comes and hoping something good eventually happens.

Not a great way to do things, but little else I can do right now. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not exactly full of festive cheer.