I’m completely burnt out with the intellectually, creatively and morally bankrupt world of clickbait.

Today’s post is inspired by a few things. Firstly, the culture of mistrust I wrote about the other day. Secondly, a YouTuber that my wife Andie and I used to like resorting to “I MADE THE MOST VIRAL TIKTOK RECIPES!” format. (Andie doesn’t have a problem with this. I emphatically do, as will become clear shortly.) And thirdly, some of the outright lies I’ve read online today while attempting to find a perfectly simple piece of information.

Let’s address these one at a time, as each of them are symptomatic of something slightly different.

I Played 100 Days of Viral TikTok Recipes

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As someone who does YouTube as a hobby, it’s infuriating to see the supposed “professionals” fall into a rut of simply baiting The Algorithm with the exact same types of “content” all day, every day.

I Played 100 Days of [Game]. I Made Viral TikTok Recipes. This is the Worst [x] Ever. Thrifting with My Completely Charisma-Free Mom.

There’s stuff on YouTube that I like and continue to watch. But this is the stuff that tends to languish in the wake of TOP CRINGE COMPILATIONS!! and FUNNIEST TIKTOKS I COULD FIND!! And this pisses me off. Because it demonstrates a complete and utter lack of creativity.

Yes, one could argue that there’s at least some creativity at play in editing these videos and picking the material to use in them — but even then, they’re incredibly predictable, regardless of who they are. You can expect to hear the Metal Gear alert noise, Kevin MacLeod’s Local Forecast, that “anime oooooh” noise in a significant proportion of popular videos out there, and you’ll see all the same visual tricks, too — jump cuts, crash zooms with a red tint on the screen and heavy screen shake, “A Few Moments Later” SpongeBob memes.

It’s infuriating. Like, it makes me genuinely angry. I know it shouldn’t. I know it’s dumb to get angry at people following trends. But it really does make me legitimately furious.

Why? Because I know there are lots of people working their arses off to make quality YouTube videos (note: not “content”) and getting very little reward, relatively speaking for doing so. Instead, the endless assembly line of identikit Content continues to churn, cluttering up everyone’s YouTube feeds with worthless garbage that provides precisely 0% more cultural enrichment value than simply staring at the wall for 12 minutes.

It particularly sucks to see video makers I used to like resort to this sort of thing — but I guess if you’re making a job out of it, it becomes an unfortunate necessity after a while. For every viewer like me who unsubscribes from a channel once it becomes a clickbait factory, it seems at least a hundred more take my place. So there’s zero incentive to change.

The PS5 Pro’s release date has NOT been “revealed”

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Earlier today, Andie and I were talking about how long various consoles were on the market, and as part of this discussion we looked up the release dates of the PlayStation 4 and PlayStation 5, pondering if and when a PS6 might ever be a thing — and if it would have a disc drive, which was the main point of our conversation.

When Googling the latter case, I was promptly confronted by a wall of articles that claimed the PS5 Pro’s release date had been “revealed”.

Needless to say, it had not been revealed. Instead, what had happened was a single gaming site that no-one had ever heard of had claimed that “insider sources” (anonymous, of course) had “confirmed” the PS5 Pro was “in development” and would “probably” release in “late 2024”. This had then been parroted pretty much verbatim (albeit with some variation in the supposedly “revealed” release date) by a variety of other gaming sites you’ve never heard of, and this had happened so much that Google had figured it was worth showing to anyone who was searching for a simple piece of information: the actual, real PS5’s release date. You know, the one where a product that actually exists was actually released.

Essentially, what we ended up with was a page of search results that were nothing but speculation at best, outright lies at worst. And there will be no consequences whatsoever for any of the sites that were engaging in this behaviour; in fact, they will almost certainly have been rewarded with happy big traffic numbers, and you can bet those pages have ads coming out the wazoo on them, too.

As someone who, as a child, had aspirations of joining the games press, and hoped he would be able to do that more than pretty much anything in the world, this is heartbreaking to see. And it’s doubly frustrating when I run a site on which our writers take pride in composing honest, thoughtful, well-researched pieces rather than simply rushing to jump on the latest trend in order to squeeze out another few cents of ad revenue.

How to find all the blue medallions in Resident Evil 4 Remake

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Speaking of which, one trend which was just starting to take hold when I left USgamer in 2014 was the odious rise of “guide content”. For the unfamiliar, this is an SEO-baiting tactic in which sites post individual articles that supposedly answer each and every possible question people on Google might have about anything vaguely relevant and popular.

It’s a completely unsustainable approach to “content generation”, particularly if you have any standards about the quality of the articles on your site whatsoever, and it means that, again, if you’re searching for specific pieces of information, you have to wade through 500 sites that have clickbaited their way to the top of Google’s search results, with no guarantee that their information is reliable or helpful.

I’ll give you an example. Prior to picking up my PS5, I was curious how the “PS4 Boost” mode worked. This is where the PS5 is able to run certain appropriately updated PS4 games with better performance than the original PS4 (and in some cases, PS4 Pro) would have been capable of.

The things I were curious about were simple: did this work with all PS4 games, or just select ones, and did I have to do anything to make it work?

The answers to these questions, by the way, are “no” and “no”.

While attempting to uncover these simple answers, I stumbled across a full-blown, surprisingly lengthy article entitled “How to Enable PS5 Game Boost”. Please recall that the answer to the question “do you have to do anything to make Boost mode work?” is “no”, and then marvel at the fact that multiple sites, not just the one I found, managed to spin this simple answer out into at least 600 words of complete garbage, because you need at least 600 words for SEO purposes, don’t you know.

I’m so tired of this. To the layman, it might seem like it’s very convenient. But as someone who has worked in the commercial press and now works on the more “indie” side of things, it’s infuriating, because I know these articles do not exist out of a desire to be helpful. As with all other clickbait — because that’s what these articles are — the aim is simple: gain traffic, and, by extension, ad revenue.

I’m so tired. So tired. The Internet was an exciting place when I was a kid and everyone was just getting to know it. Now, it’s nothing more than a mindless, soulless content factory where everyone is bidding for your attention so they can inject yet more ads directly into your eyeballs.

There are little havens where this isn’t the case, of course. But they become more and more difficult to find with each passing day. And it honestly worries me quite a bit.

But at this point, it’s also hard to know what to do, if anything. If I criticise this sort of thing, no-one listens. (I’m writing this today largely to vent my own spleen rather than to convince anyone else.) If I give up and engage in it myself just to join the rat race, I’m part of the problem. And if I abandon the Internet entirely, I deprive myself of something that is still, in some ways, a useful resource — and in some other ways, an essential utility for modern life.

So I guess I’ll keep doing what I always do. Do my own thing, occasionally complain about how much everything else sucks, then repeat until my inevitable death from a brain aneurysm.

Today’s culture of perpetual mistrust is exhausting.

The other day, I received an SMS text message. This in itself was fairly unusual, as the only texts I tend to get these days are automated confirmations of deliveries and suchlike, but there was another layer of unusual to it.

“Hi mum,” the text said. “My phone’s not working, so please contact me on WhatsApp at [number] xxx”.

Initially, I thought this might be an honest-to-goodness wrong number, which is a phenomenon that used to be widespread, but today, where we tend to do everything via pre-populated contact lists, doesn’t tend to happen much. Something about it made me feel a bit suspicious, though, so I decided to Google the text of the message.

Sure enough, it was a scam. I was both disappointed and unsurprised to discover this, but it got me thinking: I used to be someone who really, honestly wanted to believe the best about my fellow man, but these days, it feels nigh-impossible to trust almost anything you see.

That “wrong number” is actually a scammer trying to get you to send them money, or to steal your personal information. That heartwarming post you saw on social media is actually a viral marketing campaign. That “look at me I’m so empowered” sex worker doing hot tub streams on Twitch is actually being forced into exploitation by darker forces working behind the scenes rather than because she wants to.

It’s exhausting to think that, more often than not, these days what you see is most definitely not what you get. The world feels like a darker place that is full of mistrust, and aside from the necessity for constant vigilance being very tiring, it also makes it difficult for those of us who do want to go about our business in a genuinely honest sort of way.

You see it everywhere. Creative types being forced to churn out “content” with clickbait titles just to get eyes on their work. Workplaces and brands jumping on silly trends like TikTok for no discernible reason other than “it’s popular, so we should be seen to be doing it”. The growth in various forms of AI-generated text, images and sounds making misinformation and lies easier to spread than ever before.

On top of all that, the services we’ve come to increasingly rely on over the years actively make themselves worse over time, and we just sit back and take it. For example, it used to be that I could click “Publish” on this post and it would automatically share it to my friends on Facebook and Twitter, but that’s not possible any more because of supposed “improvements” that both of those services have made.

This happens outside the online sphere, too. My last car I bought was worse than my previous one in terms of the features it had, but cost more. This despite me telling the car salesman to their face that I wanted to spend “about the same” on the new vehicle and have the same features.

And no-one seems particularly bothered by all this. I mean, sure, people comment on it occasionally, but no-one actually does anything about it. They keep posting their wacky MidJourney images, increasingly believing that “they” created the image through stringing words together. Scam text messages are a way of life, with people just shrugging at them rather than attempting to report them.

And those supposed to be “in charge” don’t do anything anyway, so why bother? There’s a house down the road from us whose front garden is constantly filled with obviously stolen motorcycles, which local kids can frequently be seen riding around making a nuisance of themselves on, without wearing any sort of safety gear or having any concern for the people around them.

It increasingly feels like we are a people blighted by absolute apathy and laziness, and despite countless warnings from dystopian popular media and the arts over the years, no-one really cares. So long as you have your content to consume and your vacuous “approval” of your fake life on social media from other fake people living fake existences, nothing seems to matter to anyone.

I’m really fed up of it. And it doesn’t feel like there’s a way to escape from it all. Because this isn’t just “an Internet thing” any more. It’s a “this is the world we live in now” thing.

It’s becoming increasingly important to remember that the Internet — and social media in particular — presents a grossly distorted vision of how things actually are.

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People love to complain. This is a trait traditionally and historically associated with the British, but it’s most definitely not an exclusively British thing. Perhaps it once was, but it most certainly isn’t any more. And as with so many things, we can probably blame the way in which the Internet has brought people together — something which should, inherently, be a good thing, but which has somehow become corrupted along the way.

As I’ve noted elsewhere, I’m not spending a ton of time on Twitter any more due to a combination of the horrible atmosphere that seeps from every pore of that website and the constant ridiculous changes Elon Musk keeps making on a seemingly daily basis. But occasionally, I can’t help myself from clicking on one of the Trends out of sheer curiosity.

The other day, I happened to see that Evri was trending. Evri, if you’re unfamiliar, is the new name that the courier company formerly known as Hermes decided to adopt for themselves a while back. I don’t know the reasons for the rebrand and honestly I really don’t care, because they’re inevitably absolute bullshit and everyone knows that Evri is “really” Hermes anyway, so it’s largely irrelevant.

However, what I found when looking at the Evri trend was that everyone was complaining about Evri. Everyone had the same stories to tell of parcels being lobbed over their fence, of packages arriving broken or tampered with, or generally some tale of misfortune and woe related to getting their package delivered from this one specific carrier.

Here’s the thing: I’ve never had a problem with Evri or Hermes. I spent a brief period working for them while I was looking for a proper job and I know what it’s like “from the inside” also. While it was a time-consuming, underpaid and largely thankless task for the couriers, it was a reasonably well-run operation in general, and there were various ways in which said couriers were encouraged to do a good job, up to and including being “watched” through the scanny things they’re supposed to carry around with them.

As fortune would have it, for some reason during my brief time with the company I never actually got a scanny thing, so I never had to worry about such things — not that I had anything to particularly worry about anyway. But I digress.

I’m not saying no-one has ever had a problem with Evri or Hermes. But if you were to look at that trend on Twitter, the conclusion it would be easy to come to would be that they were a company that should be absolutely, completely and without doubt avoided at all cost, because literally every delivery they do is the absolute worst possible thing that has ever happened to someone, and they have ruined too many Christmases and children’s birthdays to count.

This is nonsense. While it’s foolish to assume that they’re completely without fault — in any sort of “gig economy” sort of situation, you have a risk of bad apples, but this is also true for more formally structured corporations — it’s also ridiculous to put across the impression that they’re a complete failure that should never be trusted.

It’s just one of many examples of the Internet painting the worst possible picture of something. And I could provide plenty of other examples at this point, but I’ll refrain from doing so for the sake of time.

What I will urge you to do, however, is that if you see any sort of seemingly universally negative reaction towards something — particularly on any sort of standards-free platform such as social media or user reviews — then be cautious. Chances are the thing that is being ranted and raved about is nowhere near as bad as people are trying to put across — because let’s face it, people are a whole lot more likely to complain about something than post about how they had no problems whatsoever with a company or service.

Perhaps we should change our outlook on such things. Perhaps we should start posting positive comments when a company does the right thing and does what is expected of them. Or perhaps that’s ridiculous — after all, a service that is being provided to you conforming to your exact expectations should not be particularly worthy of comment at all, because, well, it’s what you expected.

But then that means the negativity will always win, because the complainers will always speak up, while the satisfied customers will just quietly get on with their day, thinking nothing more of the company they’ve interacted with or the service they’ve received.

Perhaps the answer is just not to listen to anyone and make your own mind up.

2436: Default Tone

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Earlier today, I was browsing through the digital editions of the old magazines I downloaded from AtariMania and came across a short series of articles written by my Dad about “going online”.

This was pre-Internet “going online”, however, involving a 64K Atari 800XL, a 300 baud modem and an external interface for plugging in such devices, and as such involved dialling up bulletin board services (BBSes) directly to access their information and files.

What struck me when reading my Dad’s wide-eyed wonderment at being able to phone up a computer in Birmingham, read messages and download programs (a much more cumbersome process than we take for granted today, involving downloading the program into a “buffer” and then saving it to floppy disk or cassette afterwards) was the fact that any time he mentioned interacting with other people — usually through the BBSes’ approximation of a “forum”, which allowed people to post and reply to short, simple text-based messages — he was struck with how pleasant, polite and enthusiastic people were. These BBSes were generally run by enthusiasts rather than professional, commercial organisations and consequently tended to attract people in a similar vein.

Fast forward to today and I witness this somewhat sad, plaintive monologue from PR superhero Tom Ohle of Evolve PR:

I’m with Tom here, but I’m at a loss as to how we got from the enjoyably enthusiastic experience my Dad described in these articles to a situation where the default tone on the Internet is aggressive, confrontational, cynical and negative.

This isn’t universal, of course — there are still plenty of community groups that are made up of genuine enthusiasts, and interestingly enough many of them are still centred around the Atari community — but even among such community groups you find trolls, naysayers and people who are always keen to see the negative in everything.

This is particularly apparent in the gamer community, who are seemingly never satisfied by anything — blockbuster triple-A games are too formulaic, indie games are too weird, imported games are too “censored” — but it happens right across the Internet, make no mistake.

It’s usually explained away by the John Gabriel Greater Internet Fuckwad Theory:

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And for a while that was plausible. But it’s not as simple as that any more: the rise in services such as Facebook means that people are quite comfortable being total fuckwads even with their real name attached to the nonsense they’re spouting. And it seems to be the default tone these days, which is disheartening; it’s actually unusual when you find a community that isn’t full of complainers.

Perhaps it’s a consequence of throwing everyone from all different backgrounds all together into a melting pot, resulting in inevitable culture clash. Or perhaps the world of today really does engender negativity rather than positivity — I know that I certainly don’t feel particularly happy about the way the world is these days, though my way of attempting to counter it is instead to focus on the things that I do love.

Whatever the explanation, I feel it’s sad how things have developed since those innocent days of dialling up that BBS in Birmingham and having to explain to my mother why we were on the phone for so long. I feel we’ve gone backwards rather than forwards, and that it’s probably too late to do anything about it now.

All an individual can do, I guess, is try their best not to be part of it.

 

2360: A Life Without Social Media is a Life Without Pointless Outrage and Guilt

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I poked my head on to Twitter earlier — not to participate or engage, because I think I’ve well and truly broken my former addiction to it, but instead simply to share the article on Ys that I spent all day writing.

Literally immediately — and yes, I do mean literally — I saw someone indulging in one of the reasons I stopped wanting to use Twitter in the first place: pointless, unnecessary handwringing and guilt over things that were nothing to do with them.

The person in question, whom I had previously thought to be a fairly level-headed, rational sort of individual, went on an 8-tweet tirade about how awful the 4th of July was and how Americans enjoying and celebrating what has become nothing more than a holiday — regardless of its history — was somehow racist.

I closed the tab straight after I shared the link to my work, because frankly I don’t have time for that shit.

One might argue that it’s a good thing the Internet has supposedly made us all more socially responsible and aware of all the terrible things in the world — and perhaps it is. However, one thing the Internet very rarely does is actually do anything about these terrible things in the world. Whether it’s people changing their Facebook avatars to “raise awareness” for a charity (I think they’d rather have your bank details, thanks), someone painting their nails in protest against the amorphous concept of “toxic masculinity” or flaccid “protests” against whatever the issue du jour is, Internet activism achieves absolutely nothing whatsoever.

Actually, no, that’s not true — it does achieve something. But it’s not anything good.

The only thing Internet activism achieves is to drive wedges between people — alienating people from one another, and drawing very, very clear battle lines that you can only ever be on one side or the other of. Us and them. The “right side of history” and its respective “wrong side”. If you’re not with us, you’re against us. That sort of thing.

The inherently divisive nature of self-proclaimed activists’ behaviour online has had an overall enormously negative impact on online discourse as a whole. As I noted in my post where I decided to set Twitter aside, people who believe strongly in things (or at least consider themselves to believe strongly in things) have a tendency to take an “I’m right, you’re wrong” approach with no middle ground. And this is true for everyone who holds strong opinions on one thing or another, whether it’s “censorship” in games, the supposed epidemic of “misogyny” that the Internet is suffering, or who they think should win the Presidential election.

The general unwillingness to take other people’s perspectives into account has ruined all sense of rational discourse on social media. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it’s certainly soured the experience for me; social media of all types (with the exception of this blog, if that counts, which I don’t really feel it does) had just stopped being fun, and seeing that string of tweets today the moment I opened the Twitter page drove it home for me. There was a stark contrast between this and the private conversation I was having with my friend Chris at the time, whereby we disagreed on our opinions regarding the video game Limbo — he liked it, I hated it — and somehow, magically, managed to do so without feeling the need to convince the other person that they were wrong. We simply enjoy different things, and talking about those things you don’t have in common as much as the things you do makes for some of the most interesting conversations.

You can enjoy your life, or you can spend your time getting pointlessly angry about things and people on the Internet. I’ve got games to play and things to write, so I know which one I choose.

2344: Life without Social

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Well, it’s been a few days since I stepped away from Twitter, Facebook and social media in general (that includes my very, very occasional visits to Reddit) and I’m actually feeling pretty good about it. I’m not feeling especially isolated, since I 1) have other outlets through which I can talk about the things I want to talk about, and 2) have other means of talking to the people I actually want to talk to.

One experiment that I’m pleased with the progress of so far is my new Pile of Shame website. Here I’m using WordPress’ P2 theme to basically fulfil one of the things I did still enjoy using Twitter for: sharing my thoughts and reactions on games that I’m playing, perhaps in the hope of convincing other people to check out said games after having seen a screenshot that piqued their interest or a description they found intriguing.

I guess what I’m essentially doing is microblogging a “Let’s Play” of the games I’m playing, though I still far, far prefer the written/blog format for such things, even though video or streaming is probably a much more practical solution for doing it. When I think about what I’d be interested in seeing, though, should I ever find myself wanting to see what someone else’s thoughts on a game are, video is very low down the list, particularly when it comes to looking at things on mobile. I’d much rather read something — even if it’s bite-sized nuggets at irregular intervals — than watch a video and suffer through some idiot YouTuber’s attempts to be a comedy god. (This is unfair, of course; I know plenty of people who make YouTube videos and stream who aren’t immensely irritating, but sadly the ones who tend to get really popular are the ones who are immensely irritating. It’s just like TV or other forms of popular media in that regard, I guess.)

But anyway. Check out the Pile of Shame site if you’re interested in following what I’ve been playing — currently Ys Seven and VA-11 HALL-A — and feel free to leave comments.

Speaking more broadly, I’m not missing social media because it means no opportunity for me to get annoyed at all the things that are annoying on social media. These things differ from platform to platform: on Facebook it’s the sheer amount of links I don’t want to read that are shared by people I don’t want to talk to — along with people thinking that they’re suddenly God’s gift to politics/economics/racism — while on Twitter it’s the seemingly daily occurrence of one group or another getting upset, offended and/or angry about something or other. I don’t care about any of it any more. I just want to exist in my own world, surrounded by people I actually care about and enjoy the things I enjoy without people crying about, by turns, censorship, misogyny, sexism, racism, People of Colour, Nintendo, Activision, EA, Japanese games, Western games, Gamergate, Call of Duty and whatever else has got people’s respective goats this week.

The other positive feeling I have when not checking Twitter and/or Facebook every five minutes is the time and inclination to check out other sites on the Web. As any social addict will tell you, it’s very easy to fall into the trap of feeling like Twitter and Facebook (and perhaps Reddit and its ilk) are the only sites on the Internet. Cut them out of your life, and there’s a rich vein of interesting stuff you suddenly have time to explore; most notably, recently, I’ve finally been exploring the wonderful Hardcore Gaming 101, an admirably comprehensive site that covers hundreds of games in a delightful level of detail, including games from my youth that I don’t think I’ve seen written about anywhere else on the Internet. Just last night I was reading a detailed rundown of the Dunjonquest series, for example, which I knew during the Atari 8-bit era through the games Gateway to Apshai and Temple of Apshai Trilogy. Tonight I’m reading about all the Asterix games that have been released over the years, and the site has also made for some interesting reading as I have been going through the Ys series for the first time.

There’s a pleasantly wide world out there, and ditching the various virtual rooms full of people screaming at you for one reason or another makes it all the easier to see it. I’m very much enjoying the quiet.

(Note: My Twitter account is still live, sharing articles from both here and the Pile of Shame site, but it is not monitored. Please don’t try and send me messages on Twitter because I won’t see them! Instead, see this post for other ways to get hold of me. Or just leave a comment here.)

2203: Pete Reacts to Growing Older

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A significant proportion of the Internet has been up in arms over a recent copyright kerfuffle on YouTube recently, where a collective I’ve never heard of called the Fine Bros had apparently attempted to trademark the word “react”. Digging deeper, it seems that the Fine Bros had done this ostensibly as a means of trademarking the concept of “reaction videos” and allowing others to make videos in the same format — one which the group have had plenty of success with in the past — while allowing themselves an opportunity to profit from licensing fees.

Leaving aside the whole ethical implications of attempting to trademark a common word such as “react” — one of several different “brands” that Fine Bros had attempted to trademark, theoretically as a catch-all term to encompass any specific series they might concoct in the near future — this whole debacle brought one thing into sharp focus for me, and that is that there are certain aspects of modern popular culture that I simply don’t understand the appeal of whatsoever.

The concept of a reaction video is simple. You show some people — preferably from a specific demographic such as “teenagers” or “the elderly” — a thing that is Shocking in some way, then you film what they do while they’re watching or looking at the thing that is Shocking. Early examples of reaction videos included various instances of people seeing the notorious “2 Girls 1 Cup” video (for heaven’s sake, don’t Google that if you’ve never heard of it) as well as well-known shocking scenes from TV or online videos such as Game of Thrones’ “Red Wedding” scene.

Trouble is, in the few reaction videos I’ve managed to stomach, it all feels so painfully forced as to not be entertaining. No-one I know whoops and hollers at the television, bellowing “OH MY GOD!” as something shocking happens. The most do when seeing something shocking is flinch and wince at something gory, particularly if it involves eyes, but I don’t shout and scream or anything. (That said, given the general difficulty I have with expressing emotions clearly when I’m “in person”, I may not be the most representative example, but none of the people I know are like this either.) In other words, it doesn’t seem believable, with the whole situation being so contrived as to seem utterly pointless.

And aside from the implausibility of some reactions, I simply don’t see the appeal whatsoever. Why on Earth would I want to watch a group of people gathered around a TV that I can’t see all screeching and gesturing at something I may or may not already be familiar with? And, by extension, why on Earth would anyone want to trademark such an utterly inane concept on the arrogant assumption that other people would want to pay them for the dubious privilege of churning out more culturally bankrupt tat like this?

I guess you can just add reaction videos to the ever-lengthening list of things that I just don’t “get” in modern online life. It joins the illustrious ranks of Twitch chat, Twitch in general (unless you’re hanging out with an actual friend), MOBAs, unboxing videos and doubtless a whole bunch of other things I’m not even familiar with yet.

I’m 34 years of age. Some days I feel like I’m still 16. Today, however, I’m feeling every one of those years. Now get off my fucking lawn.

2197: Putting the New WordPress App Through its Paces

 

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I was helpfully informed by my WordPress dashboard that there’s a new WordPress app available for the desktop, so I figured I’d put it through its paces. I’ve used the mobile app for both iOS and Android a fair bit, so I was interested to see what benefit — if any — making use of a desktop app would have over just loading the site up in Chrome and making use of it.

Well… frankly, there’s not a huge number of benefits, at least not for those who primarily make use of blogs hosted on WordPress.com. The main benefit is that the app contains the whole of the main “new-style” WordPress dashboard in local format, meaning that you can theoretically 1) use it offline and 2) write without the distractions of other browser tabs. It’s also responsive to the window size, so you can scale the display according to what, exactly, you want to do with it: do you want to keep an eye on notifications, or do you want to write a full-on post?

You’ll notice I pointed out that it makes use of the “new-style” WordPress dashboard, and that’s an important distinction to make, because the new-style WordPress dashboard is emphatically not the same as the traditional wp-admin view. It’s a lot simpler and cleaner, sure, and you can do most of the things you can do in wp-admin in the new dashboard, but there are, frankly, a number of issues that WordPress so far hasn’t fixed with the main site that remain — and arguably are even more prominent — in the app.

Most notably, there are a significant number of flaws in what WordPress refers to as the “improved posting experience”. Having been using this a fair amount since my initial reactions to it, I’ve noticed that there have been a fair few improvements and additional functions added so that now it is, roughly speaking, in line with the wp-admin-based editor. There are still some irritating factors, however, chief among them (for me) being the fact that even with the window at 1920×1080, the word counter is scrolled off the bottom of the screen so I have to manually scroll down to view it — sometimes even if my post is longer than a screen in height. This is just plain bad design, and seems to have been fixed in the Web-based editor through the use of a floating word count window in the lower right of the viewport. Apparently the locally stored version of the editor page used in the app hasn’t taken this particular update on board, however; as I type this, my word count is once again disappearing out of the bottom of the viewport.

Another big flaw that requires less discussion is the fact that the Insert Hyperlink option does not include the option that the wp-admin-based editor does to search through your previous posts and link to them without having to look up the URL yourself. The absence of this from the “improved” posting experience is mildly irritating, and I have to wonder exactly why it was removed, since this is the exact opposite of an “improvement”.

A few things do seem to work a little better in the standalone app, mind; when using the editor in Chrome, I’ve found that sometimes the cursor keys and modifiers behave in somewhat strange and unpredictable manners: sometimes attempting to move to the previous character or word with keyboard shortcuts inexplicably jumps to the end of the paragraph or somewhere completely unexpected, particularly if there a few different items of formatting (such as links or italics) used in a paragraph. So far, at the time of writing, as I type this, I’ve encountered no such issues — that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re not there, but they shouldn’t really be in there in the first place, so I’ve tended to assume they’re a Chrome issue rather than a WordPress issue.

Since I originally looked at the “improved posting experience”, too, I was pleased to discover that drag-and-drop images now work as they should: in other words, you can drag an image directly into the editor window and have it appear where the cursor was, rather than this simply being a shortcut to opening the “Add Media” window. So good job there!

Elsewhere in the app, you have access to the other features the WordPress dashboard offers, most notably site statistics and insights, allowing you to see at a glance how your most recent posts have been performing, which days you’ve been posting on and suchlike. The WordPress Reader system is also integrated into the app, allowing you to catch up on WordPress blogs you’ve subscribed to all in one place rather than having to remember to visit a bunch of sites. This is a helpful feature, but like everything else in the app, I’m not entirely convinced of the benefit of having it in a standalone app rather than just visiting the WordPress site in my browser.

All in all, then, the main benefit of the new desktop app appears to be little more than speed and a slightly more stable experience than the website under Chrome appears to offer. I suppose offline use is a benefit to those who are composing blog posts on the go using a laptop — or, indeed, catching up on downloaded Reader posts — but for me, this is some minor, not especially useful functionality, since I tend to compose my blog posts immediately before publishing them, which tends to mean that I have a stable Internet connection wherever I happen to be at the time.

I’ll continue using the app for a while and see how I get on with it. If nothing else, its “distraction-free” nature due to its lack of browser tabs is quite pleasant, so it may prove to be a helpful way to concentrate, whether it’s on my daily blogging “duties” or more substantial projects.

You can find out more about the app and download it for free here.

2044: No, Thank You

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No, Thank You.”

If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why?”

I’m going to cheat a little here and not talk about a specific word, but more a general style of communication. There are numerous words that could be used to represent this style of communication, but not one that particularly stands out more than others, so I’m going to talk in more general terms.

As most of you know, the rise of the Internet over the course of the last few decades has made it easier than ever for people to communicate with one another. And with that ease of communication has come a relaxation of the rules of formality when communicating. In some ways, this is a bit of a shame, because the distinction between formal and informal use of language can often send implicit signals to the people in an interaction as to what is and is not appropriate to talk about. But in others, I’m actually very much relieved about this, because formal language is so mind-numbingly impersonal it’s borderline offensive to be confronted with.

I’m thinking particularly in terms of “professional” email messages here, and I’ll give you an example of the distinction. I’ve been doing some freelance work for a company for a while. When I started, the company was very much in its infancy, with relatively few employees and a single point of contact for the work I was doing. Said point of contact was a delightful young woman who was always chatty, helpful and charming whenever we spoke to one another. It was a pleasure to interact with her, even though for the most part we were only ever exchanging standard pleasantries and details of work assignments. But just little things like her squealing enthusiasm for me when I told her I was getting married, or chats about the extremes of weather we’ve seen this summer — all of those things were nice, and gave me a feeling of being “connected” to her and, by extension, a feeling of “belonging” to the company as a whole, despite simply being an outside contractor.

A few weeks ago, my former contact was replaced as she (presumably) moved on to other duties in the company as it has started to grow. She’s still with the company and tends to get copied in on email messages, but I haven’t heard a peep out of her since. Her replacements are like robots. And I mean that pretty much literally — every message I get from them absolutely stinks of copy-and-paste, email-by-template communication… largely because they clearly are copy-and-paste emails-by-template, and it’s easy to tell this due to the fact that there are the exact same words in each one.

There’s a good reason for this sort of thing, of course; as companies grow and have to communicate and collaborate with more and more people, it’s not considered to be particularly efficient to manually type out each and every message. So in come the templates, the form letters, the copy-and-paste boilerplate text.

Efficient it may be, but that feeling of “connection” is gone as a result. I don’t know these people, and even having sent messages to them in the same tone as I spoke with my previous contact, they’ve made no effort to engage with me in any way; I may as well be downloading assignments from an automated message board.

This is frustrating enough by itself, but combine it with the passive-aggressive tone that business communications tend to take — all “gentle reminders” and “looking forward” to something you haven’t done yet — and it’s not something that I feel is particularly conducive to a good working relationship.

It doesn’t really bother me all that much, to be honest; the company in question is a means to an end (said end being “getting money”) for me right now, and ultimately a personal connection with it isn’t all that important to me. I just find it a little sad that what was once friendly, personal interactions between two people now feels like sending commands and requests to an automated system. You’re human beings; act like it!

So, to (sort of) answer the original question, then: I would ban business-speak, form letters and email templates from general usage and insist that everyone communicate with everyone else as an individual. It would help make the world just a little bit friendlier as a result, and I feel that would work wonders for making people feel more positive about all sorts of things.

2014: Making Connections

0015_001Although I’m not pretending to have any real understanding of social interactions in general — in fact, as I often mention, I go through life feeling like I really do’t know what to do in a lot of “everyday” social situations — I find the way little communities and cliques develop to be fascinating, both to observe from the outside, and to be a part of from within.

I have a few examples in mind. First, and most prominent, is Twitter. I’ve drifted from group to group a bit since I originally joined Twitter a number of years back. Originally, my use of Twitter was primarily to have a means of talking to my online friends with whom I used to interact on 1up.com. After “The Great Exodus”, when 1up’s specialised forums were mashed together into a NeoGAF-style monstrosity of just “Games” and “Not Games”, a significant proportion of the community left the site’s forums, and many of them found themselves on Twitter. Over time, people changed, moved and became involved in different things. Some gave up on Twitter altogether; others started using it for professional purposes; others still “rebranded” themselves.

I fell somewhat into the latter category. After suffering a fairly serious instance of doxxing and harassment back in 2013 — see, it’s not just women it happens to, contrary to what the media would have you believe — I left Twitter, initially intending not to return, but after realising what a pile of crap Facebook is for actually interacting with people in a meaningful manner, I returned. After realising that the interminable social justice yelling on Twitter was setting off my depression and anxiety, I left again. This time when I came back (they always come back) I decided to “reinvent” myself a bit, and follow fewer of the people I felt I “should” be following, and instead focused on people who posted things I found interesting or enjoyable to interact with. Consequently, these days I find myself on the fringes of “anitwitter”, a subculture on the social network that discusses, posts screencaps and generally enthuses about anime and games. I, as you might expect, fit right in.

Elsewhere on the Internet, the Discord server I mentioned the other day (which, dear reader, you’re still welcome to come and join) has been developing slowly but surely, but it’s our Final Fantasy XIV Free Company server that is perhaps the more interesting example. Taking cues from the in-game friend who introduced me to Discord in the first place, I added an “NSFW” (Not Safe for Work) channel to the server. It immediately became the most active channel in the place, though initially people weren’t quite sure what to post in there, i.e. whether or not it was okay to post filth. (It was, though someone stumbled accidentally into it and complained a bit at being confronted with a wall of hentai, so we’ve since made it invite-only — community management at work!)

What’s interesting about the NSFW channel is that the usual boundaries of “politeness” that are up when interacting with other people online in real time — in my experience, anyway; I tend not to hang around with the sort of people who hurl insults and abuse at one another — are nowhere to be seen. I don’t mean that people are rude to one another; quite the opposite, in fact. The NSFW channel is a place where everyone can be open and honest about the things that they like, and where no-one judges one another for the things they talk about and post. (Or, if they do, they keep that to themselves.) It’s pretty refreshing and liberating, actually, and makes it abundantly clear that there should probably be more places for people — particularly, it has to be said, men — to be able to talk about things like sex, fetishes and all that sort of thing without fear of judgement or anything like that. I shan’t go into any further details than that, but suffice to say we’re all having a jolly old time in there.

Anyway, yeah. Online communities. Just as interesting as real communities, I think you’ll agree…