#oneaday Day 722: Entering the ATmosphere

I read yesterday that several blogging platforms are integrating the "AT protocol" or whatever it's called that powers services like Bluesky and the like, and one of those was WordPress. So today's post is primarily a big ol' test to see whether or not that functionality, implemented via the ATmosphere plugin, actually works, and whether or not it's something I actually want to use.

people holding different devices — Photo by fauxels on Pexels.com. These people are all enjoying my posts. You should, too.

I talked a bit about social media with my therapist yesterday. I discussed how conflicted I feel about existing online right now, what with the emphasis on short-form video and vapid content rather than longer-form, more meaningful material. I'm not saying that the stuff I post here isn't vapid nonsense, of course, but I have always said that I would far rather read someone's vapid nonsense than be delivered it as shouty-face-at-camera content, so this blog continues with that in mind. And if no-one is interested in my vapid nonsense, then at least I still have somewhere to bang out some words and express myself, which is what this has always been about.

Anyway, the kind-of-sort-of conclusion I came to was that at least a minimal presence on social media is somewhat desirable for me, because otherwise I just end up feeling completely isolated. While I enjoyed the total break from all social media, including Bluesky, that I took last year while I was on holiday, I found that I didn't want to maintain it afterwards, as it just left me feeling even more lonely than I already was. And I'm already feeling pretty damn lonely.

Still, the other thing that came to light in yesterday's session is that although I have always kind of feared social interactions and find myself overthinking conversations before I have them — sometimes to the extent that I never actually start the conversation in reality for the fear of coming across as boring or annoying — I am, in many respects, feeling kind of ready to challenge myself in at least attempting to make some new friends, to have some people that I can connect with and, basically, to stop feeling so danged lonely.

The challenge that I have found along the way is not so much initiating those interactions when the opportunity arises — although that is still a somewhat scary prospect for me — but rather finding those opportunities in the first place. I cited an example of when I first went to university and attended a pre-term music course, and I took the uncharacteristically bold step (for me) of introducing myself to someone I was in a lift with while we were transporting ourselves to our respective floors in the tower block where we were staying. That resulted in a longstanding friendship (albeit one that I will hold my hands up and say that I have been very poor at maintaining) and was proof that, as little as I think of myself at times, I can come across as someone that people actually do want to know and are not, in fact, actively repulsed by.

Those opportunities of being "trapped" in a lift with a stranger and the choice being either awkward silence or attempting to clunkily start a conversation just don't really seem to arise these days, though, because I'm never in that sort of situation. I work from home, I don't go out a great deal, I'm not a member of any "groups" or anything (and don't really know how one would go about finding a "group") and I do not have a publicly accessible elevator in my house.

What I am going to at least attempt to do a bit more, though, is to attend some in-person events where I know some people with whom I have at least a casual acquaintance will be attending. My trip to The Cave a few weeks back was a good example, and last year I went to the RetroFest show in Swindon — that is actually happening again this year, but I left it a bit late to organise a trip there. I mean, I could probably snag a ticket and go along tomorrow (today's tickets are sold out), but can I be bothered to do that?

Hmm, can I be bothered to do that…? I might have a think about that throughout the course of today. Swindon is a fairly long way to go, but it might actually be nice to go along and see some interesting things and clever people.

Hmmmmm.

Anyway, today we are going food shopping, so that's fun. Thank you for participating in this experiment of whether or not this thing actually posts correctly to Bluesky via the ATmosphere plugin. If it does, I'll likely hook up MoeGamer proper in the same way. Tatty-bye for now then.

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 712: Cognitive surrender

I wouldn't say I check in on Penny Arcade regularly, but when I do, I am always entertained — and I always find myself scrolling through quite a few comics and blog posts. Today, my attention was captured by this post from Jerry "Tycho" Holkins, and particularly this paragraph:

Sometimes I don't know how to feel about something because my moral superiors have not yet made a super long video. They don't always make a video about the thing I need, though. Like, I don't know if someone is still bad or if they've been exonerated. Since we don't trust any structure that would provide exoneration, and objectivity is illusory, since the law is merely another arena to sift power dynamics anyway, my guess is that their good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. Speaking of power dynamics, It must be neat to have the reins of a parallel legal system whose norms kaleidoscopically shift at a rate of one million shibboleths per second. The main issue is that it's not clear which games I'm allowed to buy. All I can do – all anyone can do – is spin very quickly in place while refreshing YouTube for the next sermon. I'm currently ablur.

man in blue crew neck shirt wearing black framed eyeglasses — Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com. I choose to believe this guy's hair only does this when he shouts.

Tycho is specifically referring to the hoohah over Zero Parades: For Dead Spies, the recent new game from ZA/UM, the company behind the exceedingly brilliant Disco Elysium, and a company mired in controversy for the way it subsequently treated the actual people who made Disco Elysium. I don't really know much more about it than that, and to be perfectly honest, I don't really give enough of a shit to look into it further. I'm sorry, I just don't.

You see, as you might expect in such a situation, moral grandstanding over the way ZA/UM has behaved in the past has been overshadowing any meaningful discussion of Zero Parades itself, with the reviewers who took it on its own terms and gave it a positive assessment — apparently it's very good! — getting lambasted by people who think they are The Most Correct Person in the Room.

The phenomenon Tycho is talking about is the disconnect one eventually starts to feel when constantly confronted by this: the situation where you want to talk about how much you like something that you have taken on its own terms, divorced from "context" — regardless of whether this was a deliberate move, or just because your particular life and social circumstances meant you had never come into contact with any "controversy" — but find yourself having to bite your tongue, because you know it's not "acceptable" to like the thing for one reason or another.

I'm not even talking about particularly controversial material here — like, even the most perverted hentai connoisseur knows when not to bring up his collection of Rias Gremory boob bouncing gifs — but rather, situations like we have here, where an entity that is tangentially connected to the thing in question is deemed to have done something so unconscionably unacceptable that it taints anything and everything associated with itself, regardless of whether the thing itself is any good or not, and regardless of whether the people who actually made the thing had anything to do with the controversy.

A lot of this stuff spreads via social media and, as Tycho says, via video platforms like YouTube and TikTok. A lot of people look to "influencers" (ugh) as opinion leaders, and wait to learn whether it's "acceptable" in the eyes of someone they believe in before even considering engaging with it. Essentially it's a form of cognitive surrender; they willingly give up their own ability to make their mind up about something in favour of blindly following everything their opinion leader of choice says and does. And this sort of person tends to hold a grudge for a very long time indeed; as Tycho says, it's exceedingly rare for anyone branded with a scarlet letter to be exonerated, while the reverse is also true: someone who has been a beloved figure for years can be quickly turned on, torn to shreds and then left to rot, never to be forgiven and never to regain their former regard, regardless of whether or not they clearly make an effort to make amends for past wrongs.

Honestly, at this point it's exceedingly tiresome. There are certain people on Bluesky I've had to mute just because their constant response to people Just Enjoying The Thing is to bring up the controversy du jour and, in many cases, cast exceedingly unflattering and negative aspersions on the people who continue to Just Enjoy The Thing. In just the last week it's happened not only with Zero Parades, but also with Forza Horizon 6, and I'm sure there will be plenty more. There have certainly been plenty of prior examples, including numerous instances of the "we will never forgive them" situation.

Look, I get it. In this revolting, shitty world we live in, it's nice to think that you have some principles and that you're willing to stand up for them. Everyone should have at least a few issues that they're willing to stand up and be counted on. But there comes a point where you're just being a tedious scold at people who are simply trying to derive some joy out of existence, and who really do not have the time or energy to give a shit about every single little issue in the world, particularly when the issues that you supposedly care about are in the extreme periphery of the thing they are trying to enjoy — and seemingly not even directly connected at all, to the average person who is not huffing Internet fumes 25 hours a day.

I'm sorry, but it is just like that. If you do try and give a shit about every single little issue in the world, you will quickly end up driving yourself insane, driving everyone who might have once been your friend away, and never, ever experiencing a day of happiness in your life ever again.

On top of that, if your idea of Being A Good Person is scolding random strangers on Bluesky rather than actually getting out into the world and making some sort of meaningful difference to the lives of people who need it, then you might not actually be A Good Person. You just want people to believe that you are.

Life is too short for that. So if you want to play Zero Parades, I don't care. If you want to play Forza Horizon 6, I don't care. If you want to boycott everything ZA/UM and Microsoft ever put out, I don't really care, either. But if you start actively getting in the way of people who simply want an escape from the shittiness of life in 2026 — or to build a warm, kind community of people who want a collective escape from the shittiness of life in 2026 — then I'm sorry, but I don't really want to know you.

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#oneaday Day 705: Resist mediocre anti-intellectualism

Every few months, it seems, the collective community of the social media platform Bluesky suffers from a minor existential crisis, usually relating to some commentator or other not having found an audience on the platform and thus writing what they probably believe to be a withering putdown, but which more often than not ends up coming across as a bit sad, desperate and pathetic.

The most recent case comes in the form of someone who posits that Bluesky, as a whole, has been bad for American political discourse, because it has effectively siloed off pretty much the entire "Left" into their own little bubble. This isn't an entirely inaccurate view of the situation, but you also have to bear in mind that this largely occurred because Twitter, under Elon Musk, made a specific effort to silo off pretty much the entire "Right" into their own little bubble. Consequently, Twitter is more of a shithole than it's ever been in the past, and Bluesky… well, it's occasionally all right, occasionally prone to the sorts of behaviour that made me sour on Twitter in the first place. At least for the most part you don't have to put up with Nazis and "grok what is this" underneath every post.

I'm not here to talk about the relative merits of Bluesky itself though; rather, I want to focus on a post from Ars Technica's Kyle Orland, itself a response to a post from journalist Faine Greenwood, semi-seriously commenting on what people really need to do if they want to use social media to get a political message out:

Kyle Orland: This is true in cultural criticism too, I'd argue. Writing in general (and longform writing in particular) is just an increasingly niche part of how people in general are consuming media and getting info.

I'm still proudly focused on that niche, but I'm under no illusions about my relative reach.

Quoting Faine Greenwood: I will reiterate the point made by Jamelle Bouie: if you really wanted online political influence, you'd be making vertical video. You'd be learning how to do little booty dances while talking about political theory. You'd be mastering doing BTS fan-cams while talking about anti-capitalism.

I see this viewpoint expressed a lot these days, and while it is disappointingly not entirely wrong about the situation, it does, to me, reflect a defeatist attitude to culture: the assumption that there can be only one dominant form of media, and that in this case, it is lowest-common-denominator, vapid, attention-deficit short-form video with karaoke-style captions updating one word at a time.

I, as I have made pretty clear on numerous occasions in the past, fucking hate lowest-common-denominator, vapid, attention-deficit short-form video with karaoke-style captions updating one word at a time. I find it actively insulting to my intelligence, and incredibly offputting when someone posts, like, say, "IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:" followed by a video of their face pressed up against the camera yelling whatever their important announcement is. I never find out, because I am actively repulsed by that kind of video.

Aside: in a Discord I frequent, one poster continually reposts this guy's stuff, and dear Lord I find it the most offputting thing imaginable. Nothing to do with the guy's appearance; I just don't want that many faces yelling at me.

A screenshot of "Randy Johnson's" YouTube channel, which consists entirely of vertical video clips of an elderly man talking about various topics.

Anyway, the thing I find frustrating about all this is: who the fuck decided that the only thing we're allowed to do now is lowest-common-denominator, vapid, attention-deficit short-form video with karaoke-style captions updating one word at a time? Who the fuck decided that writing is out, particularly long-form writing? Because I certainly fucking didn't.

I like reading! I like reading long things! I like writing! I like writing long things! As far as I'm concerned, a good piece of writing is much more likely to stand the test of time than vertical video of someone's grandpa wittering on about The Super Mario Galaxy Movie! And I find it near-impossible to believe that I am alone in this!

I am part of a generation who grew up with books, magazines, and websites that posted long-form writing. As far as I am aware, my entire generation hasn't suddenly dropped dead overnight, so why the fuck can't we have at least a basic bit of respect for our tastes rather than this content slurry that is shat out at great force and speed every day?

"Oh, but Pete, people are still serving your niche," you might say. Are they? Are they actually though? Because last time I checked, games media sites were being shut down or turned into thinly-veiled gambling advertisements at a frightening rate. I used to have magazines and websites that I read on a regular basis; today, even people who I used to respect as people who always seemed that they'd keep blogging, come rain or shine, have all but vanished from the Internet, leaving us with little more than the garbage left behind.

Perhaps those are the people who have the right idea. Give up on trying to "find an audience" on the Internet, and just retreat into a world where these issues don't exist. There are still a few magazines out there — although gaming-specific ones are thin on the ground. There are folks making fanzines and suchlike. New books continue to be written — some of them even without being AI-generated! So perhaps the answer is just to retreat, quietly, and continue to enjoy the few good things that do, apparently against all odds, still exist.

It just feels like giving up a space where I always felt like I could "be myself" and express myself freely has been taken over, completely, by the supposedly "cool kids" who are actually vapid fuckheads with nothing of any real substance to contribute to culture. And that really sucks. "The Internet" used to be somewhere that felt like I was home, where I was among my people. I haven't felt that for a long time now.

I don't feel like we should have just rolled over and let this happen — but that is what happened, and there doesn't appear to be any way to turn back from it now. And no-one appears to be in any great hurry to correct this situation.

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#oneaday Day 701: Burnout and guilt

Every weekend for about the last month and a half, I've found myself thinking "I should make some more YouTube videos", closely followed by "but I don't really feel like it".

Photo by Zulfugar Karimov on Pexels.com

To a normal, well-adjusted mind, the follow-up thought that should then occur should be "so I'm not going to do any". But when you have sort of got into the habit of doing something, it's difficult to take a step away from. You feel obligations to continue. You feel guilt that you're not doing something. And those aren't healthy things to be feeling about something that is supposed to be a fun hobby more than anything else.

An oft-repeated refrain of the casual, hobbyist YouTuber is "when it stops being fun, I stop doing it". But it's not always that easy. You feel like you're letting down your audience, however small that might be — the people who tirelessly show up every video and leave a supportive comment or just a Like. You feel like you're letting down yourself, too; you've invested time, effort and, often, money into doing this, so shouldn't you keep doing it?

And there's always part of you that still wants to keep doing it for the reason you originally started doing it. In my case, it's to show off interesting games that I don't feel get the attention and love that they deserve, particularly on platforms that don't get the love they deserve — like the Atari 8-bit and ST. I am particularly conscious of this due to how, on a recent visit to The Cave, someone actually came up to me and said that they not only enjoyed my YouTube videos, they specifically enjoyed the way I do them.

As regular readers will know, this is something that I have mentally gone back and forth on lots of times — I started doing Let's Play-style videos, where I give a brief introduction to a game and then just play it while talking over it, but have found that scripted, more review-like videos tend to do better numbers for the most part. I enjoy doing both; the Let's Play ones are less hassle to do in terms of editing, but I think the scripted videos are probably "better" videos, whatever that means. I say I don't really care about the numbers — and I don't, really, otherwise I would put more effort into the tedious "marketing" side of running a YouTube channel — but it's hard to ignore when you get over a thousand views (sometimes much more than a thousand) on a scripted, edited review of a modern indie game or an Xbox 360 compared to just about three figures when providing a guided tour of an Atari 8-bit game no-one has heard of except longstanding enthusiasts.

This person telling me that they specifically enjoyed my Let's Play-style stuff for exactly the reasons I do it — to provide the illusion of sitting with a friend, enjoying a game together — kind of threw me a bit. I'm pleased, obviously, but it's the first time someone has specifically come up to me and said "yes, I like specifically what you are doing, rather than the usual algorithm-baiting stuff". And it's given me a certain amount of pause.

The other reason I'm kind of feeling a bit burnt-out with YouTube is that I'm doing some writing stuff that I'm enjoying right now. It's a very (very) long-term project that I'm working on, so it's going to take a considerable period of sustained effort to bring to a conclusion — and I really would like to bring it to a conclusion — and all that is sort of sapping my enthusiasm and energy for making videos a bit.

I do like making videos. I am always satisfied when I've put out some videos. But I'm just sort of not feeling it right now. And I feel guilty about that, for all the reasons outlined above. This, in turn, can lead me into a bit of a self-destructive cycle, where I get locked in a loop of worrying about what I think I "should" be doing, and then sitting staring into space worrying about the fact I don't feel like doing that thing.

Perhaps this is a signal that for today, at the very least, I should just rest, relax, take a break and enjoy myself, and then see how I feel about things tomorrow. And if I feel like making some videos tomorrow, great. If I don't, that should also be fine. We'll see.

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#oneaday Day 686: A space to say things

As I mentioned a few days ago, I have started Going to Therapy. It has been pretty good so far, for one big reason: it is a place where I can go where I feel like I can pretty much say anything.

psychologist writing on clipboard during session — Photo by Alex Green on Pexels.com

This is such a valuable thing to have, whatever form it takes. And I know I say a lot of things on this blog, but there are certain things I have second thoughts before posting about. Just this evening, I deleted the start of a post where I was going to have a go about something, then decided that the potential arguments it might start (it's not anything racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic or anything like that, don't worry) just simply would not be worth the stress it would cause.

To put it another way, the benefits I would gain from getting those thoughts out of my head and onto paper would be far outweighed by the stress any subsequent "discourse" might cause. (Or it might not. But in this instance I think it's best to just not take the risk at all.)

Modern life is exhausting, and talking to the people who are closest to you can sometimes be difficult for all manner of different reasons. When that's the case, you can find yourself bottling up emotions, particularly frustrations and anger, and not really having any way to release them. And that's why having a space to say things is important.

Your space to say things doesn't have to be Going to Therapy. It could be a journal that you keep for yourself, written by hand and locked in a drawer, for your eyes only. It could be a password-protected note in your note-taking app of choice. It could be a voice memo you leave for yourself. It could be abstractly represented through a piece of art, music or writing you choose to create. It could be something you tell your cat when no-one else is around.

It can take many forms. What's important is that you feel like you have it. Ideally it provides you with a feeling of "release", that you've let those emotions out of your brain, acknowledging their existence and how they are making you feel, and perhaps contemplating why you are having them in the first place.

Is the thing you think you are mad about really the thing you are actually mad about, or is it a symptom of something more broad that you need to deal with? Is the whole thing a situation you have put yourself in that you can just as easily extract yourself from? Take a step back from the part of you that is angry and frustrated, and talk to them. What, exactly, is upsetting them? Why are they feeling that way? What do they think they should do about it? What do they think they can do about it? What do they think the consequences for doing something about it might be, and do they think those consequences are worth the temporary catharsis of doing the thing?

There are no easy answers about this sort of thing, but it always pays to be reflective and contemplative. The modern world — and particularly the Internet — is set up in such a way to deliberately make us nearly constantly mad and frustrated, and it's easy to forget that when the red mist starts to descend and all you want to do is yell at someone. That's what a significant amount of the Internet wants, and I'm not just talking about trolls. It's in corporations' interests to keep you mad, because being mad means you're engaged. And engagement, after all, is the be-all and end-all of modern-day "KPIs".

I've taken a step back from the thing I was mad about. I'm still a bit mad about it, but on reflection, it's really not something that is all that worth getting mad about. It is something I can, relatively easily, put to one side and never think about ever again.

So I think I'm going to do that. Or at least try to, anyway.

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#oneaday Day 682: Freedom!

I'm officially free of professional social media responsibilities from today, and let me tell you, I am incredibly glad and very grateful for the opportunity to take this sideways step in my career. I didn't come into my job with the intention of being The Social Media Guy, it just sort of fell to me. And before long, it was something that started to really get me down.

You see, being The Social Media Guy for a brand means that you have to face down the absolute worst end of humanity online day after day. You have to just sit back and take abuse from random strangers. You have to listen to fuckheads taking the piss out of things that you've worked hard on. You have to watch people spread lies. And in pretty much all of these cases, you have very little power to actually do anything about them. In the meantime, you're expected to put across the image of being relentlessly chipper, positive and call-to-action-y in an attempt to get a society full of people with an attention span of less than three seconds to give a shit about the thing you've worked hard on.

Honestly, it's a complete and total drag. When you're working at a job you actually like, on a product that you actually believe in and are proud to be associated with, the absolute last thing you want to see is a bunch of Facebook randos wilfully misunderstanding what it is you're doing, and being incredibly rude about it. I know that most of these people aren't posting the things they post out of an intention to make someone feel bad — most people see a brand account and think it's a "faceless" thing — but, as someone who has spent some time being the face behind that brand account, let me tell you: when you act like a cunt to the brand, someone has to read your bullshit just in case you might actually have a valid issue, and if you're being a cunt, you're probably making someone feel bad.

It's one of those things that you don't really notice at first. You can laugh it off as "oh, look at these silly Internet people". Over time, though, it really starts to get to you. The fact that you can't just respond to one of these people, go "look, shut the fuck up, no-one gives a shit about what you think, and there is an entire team of people behind me who have worked their arses off on this thing you're being dismissive about" is frustrating. Honestly, I would respect any brand account that fully took the gloves off and took an abusive commenter down a peg or two, but it's Not The Done Thing.

I'm glad to be out of it. It's not my problem any more. There are people who can do a much better job at it than me, and I am more than happy to let them take care of it while I get on with some of the things where my actual strengths lie. For now, that means continuing to write blog posts, videos and documentation, and stepping up the amount of playtesting and "tech" work that I get to do. I'm hoping I will learn something over the long term — and in the short term, it feels like I have even greater involvement in working on things that actually mean something to me, and that I feel have value.

I hope I never have to look back. I have been looking forward to the day I never have to look at Twitter and Facebook ever again for a long time, and now it's pretty much here — barring any occasions when I need to cover someone who's off, because unfortunately I'm the one who is most qualified (or I should perhaps say experienced) for that cover. But I'll take it for now. This is a positive step, and one that I'm happy about.

Just remember to be kind to the people posting stuff from a brand that you have an interest in. Someone has to read that vitriol you post, and I can guarantee they have a million and one ways they'd rather spend their day.

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#oneaday Day 656: User error

One reason I absolutely cannot wait to ditch my professional social media responsibilities (which will be at some point in the next few months, in all likelihood) is the phenomenon of users making an error themselves, then yelling at us for their own mistake. There have been two separate examples of this just today, and I'm glad I was too busy to reply to them (the chap who's been helping us out with social media handled them) because I'm not sure I would have been able to resist being sarcastic. (Naturally, I won't name and shame or give the exact examples here, but anyone who has worked in any sort of tech with a vaguely public-facing aspect will likely know the sort of thing I'm talking about.)

Whenever I see something like this, it just comes across as a completely alien way to react. If I'm using a device, and it behaves in a way that I don't expect it to, the first thing I look for is if I'm doing anything wrong — which I inevitably am. I use it as an opportunity to learn exactly what it is that I'm doing wrong, then to never make that same mistake ever again, because I learned what the problem was and how to fix it. The absolute last thing I would consider doing is going on social media and yelling at the company who makes the product in question — particularly when there is absolutely no way of them solving my issue without making me look, at the very least, a little bit stupid.

I get that people are frustrated when things don't work the way they expect and they don't know why. But receiving a message filled with swearing and abuse because you didn't think to press a single button that would immediately resolve the problem you are having — yes, this really was one of the incidents today — does not make the person who has to answer that message feel particularly inclined to want to help you. I mean, most of the time they will go out of their way to help you, even for particularly stupid questions — contrary to popular belief, there are, in fact, stupid questions — but you can rest assured that they're having a good giggle at you behind your back.

Note that I absolutely do not have a problem with someone who does have a question with a simple and straightforward answer, and who asks that question without becoming abusive. I am more than happy to help anyone like that out. But someone who bursts into an inbox with no prior contact and fills their message with "wtf" and "ffs" and all that sort of shit… well, they're not getting their relationship with us off on a particularly good foot now, are they?

The only time I've ever yelled at a company on social media was when CEX missold me an expensive arcade stick with the promise it would work on the consoles I asked if it would work on, and it did not do that. After the staff in the shop refused to help, I had little option but to Karen it up a bit and eventually got the situation resolved. I'm not particularly proud of that little episode, but I did manage to get it resolved without any swearing or abuse at the staff in question — just a lot (a lot) of repeating myself.

Anyway, don't be rude to staff of a company if the fault is actually completely of your own creation. It's not hard.

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#oneaday Day 596: Sad little men

I've had two angry emails this week, one from someone who was upset I was covering Wolfenstein over on MoeGamer and drawing some parallels between the alt-history 1960s Nazi world order depicted in the game and the heinous shit going down in the United States right now, and another, likely a sock puppet, from someone who was angry that I said mean things about a particularly notorious revolting little troll that occasionally tries to start shit with the UK retro gaming YouTube community.

To both of these individuals, I extend my middle finger in an unmistakeable gesture and invite them, politely, to eat an entire bag of dicks. Because neither of these people were up for any sort of discussion — not that I wanted to discuss their odious viewpoints with them — and just wanted to spew a wall of vitriol at me before flouncing off into the sunset, likely to never think of me ever again. And I'm 100% fine with that last bit.

The first bit is a shitty thing to have to deal with, though. I, unfortunately, know quite a few people who have been on the receiving end of abusive messages from people like these two fucknuggets, and none of them have deserved what they have gotten. The people who spew this kind of hatefulness are, without exception, bigoted, intolerant fuckheads who are angry that the world doesn't cater specifically to them. They don't like that certain types of people who are different from them exist, whether those differences come in the form of their skin colour, gender identity, sexuality or how many YouTube subscribers they have. They are angry at the simple existence of people they see as different from them; they think these differences make those people somehow dangerous.

They fear them, and that's why they lash out in the way they do — they hope to break the spirit of people they have decided that they dislike. They have no endgame; no real purpose in mind. They just want to hurt people. And it's fucking pathetic. Particularly because the targets they pick, like me, are, frankly, completely harmless individuals who they likely never would have come into contact with were it not for the increasingly potholed Information Superhighway.

It sucks that we have to tolerate the existence of pathetic little trolls like this, because practically speaking, there's not a lot that can really be done about them. Law enforcement aren't interested in some mean messages on the Internet, social media platforms are increasingly lawless zones, and hosting your own sites means you have the joy of having to deal with moderation tasks yourself. At least WordPress and YouTube make it easy enough to block commenters via various means.

It's a shitty world out there, both online and offline, and there are days when it doesn't feel like there's anything worth "saving" any more. If you encounter any little shits like the ones I've described today, my best advice is to remember that their pathetic little lives are almost certainly full of more self-inflicted misery than you can possibly imagine, and that they're lashing out precisely because of that fact because they're unwilling to admit that they're at fault. Once you start down the path of being an Internet Dickhead, it's very difficult to pull yourself back and save face. Because, frankly, even if these two clagnuts came to me with a genuine apology tomorrow, I would not have the time of day for them.

You get one chance in life to make a first impression, and if that first impression is violently shitting yourself while screaming and waving a knife around, I'm not going to let you into my house, ever.

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#oneaday Day 578: The 10-1 rule

I read a good thread on Bluesky earlier. It ties in with something I've talked about before, but it bears repeating. It concerns matters of community management, and how a proactive approach that might, in the short-term, be perceived as "negative" is actually for the best in the long run. If you want to read the thread in question, here's the link.

The poster, "The Wyzard", posits a "10-1 rule", which is to say "every (1) shithead you don't ban costs you ten (10) other customers". They admit that the maths is not exact by the very nature of it being an abstract concept that one cannot truly represent mathematically, but I can see figures along those lines being very plausible.

The theory runs that if you have one person stinking up the joint — whether literally through their personal hygiene, or metaphorically through their behaviour — then while they might be a loyal customer, they will actively repulse other customers. And the number of customers they will repulse is more than the one, single person that they are, making them a net negative for your community.

Back when I was running Rice Digital, I ran into an issue with a persistent commenter who, during the site's time without much moderation going on in the comments section, had come to think of it as his own personal place to spew hatred and bigotry. Because I had taken over the site and the login details to be able to moderate the comments had gone astray several editor-in-chiefs ago, I took the executive decision to nuke the entire comments section from orbit and start afresh.

The commenter in question was not happy, because he believed he had ownership of this vitriol he had continually spewed on the site (including, among other things, stating that a particular TV show had "ruined lesbians for him" because the lesbians in question were not what he considered to be attractive), and it had not occurred to him that a website that does not belong to him, and which he doesn't pay anything for, does not owe him a damned thing.

The metaphor I used at the time was that of a clubhouse. When you run any sort of community, be it online or offline, whatever form it takes, you are effectively carving out a space that is for the use and enjoyment of that community, but which is ultimately the responsibility of someone. Picture, for example, a gaming club, where people come along to meet friends and play games together in a space specially designed for that. Sounds great, right?

Now imagine that every week you show up to that gaming club, there's some asshole whose table talk consists entirely of how much he hates trans people, what he's wanked over this week and why he thinks anyone trying to stop him talking about these things in spaces that might be occupied by people who do not want to hear those things is engaging in "censorship".

After a while, you wouldn't want to go along to that club any more, right? You'd come to dread the experience of this jackass stinking up the joint with his rancid opinions, so you'd find an alternative place to see your friends — or, worst case, just stop seeing them altogether. A net loss for you, your friends and the club in general.

Now imagine that this jackass is kicked out of the club after just one session of him spewing his odious rhetoric. While the initial reaction, particularly if the kicking-out is public, might be shock and even fear from certain members — "what if we get turned on next?" and all that — the long-term effect is that normal, well-adjusted people will feel safer and more comfortable coming along to that clubhouse and doing the things they enjoy. They will not need to abandon something they enjoy doing for the sake of one asshole.

It's the same with online communities. The longer you tolerate someone acting like a shithead as part of a community like that, the more annoyed other people will become, to such a degree that they will eventually leave your community, even if they otherwise like what you are doing. That's counter-productive, because all you will be left with is a single shithead who hates trans people (it's always trans people) and no actual community. And at that point you might as well give up, because I'm sure we've all had the experience where you've ended up being the last person in a room with the one individual no-one wants to be left alone with.

Anyway, I know I've talked about this stuff not long ago, but the thread linked above made me want to talk about it again. If you're someone who finds yourself in a position of responsibility for maintaining a community — whether it's something as small and simple as a comments section for your own stuff, or as large as the social media presence for a Brand™ — I would encourage you to bear that "10-1 rule" in mind. The 10 will thank you, even if the 1 doesn't.

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#oneaday Day 561: A world of misinformation

We mock Donny Trump's obsession with "fake news" because he always busts that out whenever someone criticises him, but it's an unfortunate fact of life that we are living in a world that is riddled with misinformation right now — particularly if you're the sort of person who primarily gets their information from social media. And, distressingly, that is quite a lot of people these days.

Not all bits of misinformation are dangerous, of course, but they're no less frustrating to see. The other day, for example, I saw a post on Bluesky where someone commented that someone waxing nostalgic over the original Quake for being "from the days before you needed to spend thousands on graphics cards" or suchlike was "the funniest game they could have picked to comment this on". Funny! Except Quake didn't need a 3D accelerator card, as it ran entirely in software, meaning that while a decent non-3D graphics card would help in unlocking graphics modes, it was primarily dependent on how good your CPU was. Its 3D-accelerated version was never officially supported, despite being developed by id Software, and was primarily put out as a test for what they were planning to do with Quake II, which was 3D-accelerated by default.

Likewise, when a near-complete version of Resident Evil for Game Boy Color was unearthed and released to the public the other day, there were people talking about how it "included" the pre-rendered backgrounds of the PS1 version (it doesn't, they are low-resolution pixel art recreations) and how it "used the same isometric perspective" as the PS1 version (neither the PS1 nor the GBC versions are depicted from an isometric perspective).

I didn't comment on either of these at the time because that would have made me an "Um Actually" guy, and no-one wants to be one of those. But as someone who cares about this stuff — particularly about game history, and modern folks appreciating the many varied and wonderful things that classic games were doing — it was frustrating to see these statements go completely unchallenged.

The problem, as I've already alluded to, is people seeing someone saying something on social media and then immediately taking that as gospel truth without verifying it for themselves. In cases such as the above, perhaps younger people might not know what they would need to search for in order to verify those things — or indeed even if they needed verifying in the first place. Neither of those cases particularly matter in the grand scheme of things, but they're a microcosm of times when more serious misinformation — misinformation that could, say, seriously damage someone's reputation — has found itself spreading in one way or another.

They say "the Internet never forgets" — and with the sterling work the Internet Archive does, that's mostly true. Unfortunately, this sometimes means that the Internet never forgets something that was wrong in the first place. And once that misinformation takes root among enough people as being "the truth" — or, perhaps more accurately, "good enough" to sound like the truth — it's very hard to dig it out again to correct things, because not only does no-one like an "Um Actually" guy, even when they're correct, people are simply very resistant to having their assumptions challenged and corrected.

That feels like it might be a problem we should deal with sooner rather than later. But how…?

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