The moral duty of the game critic, part 2: with great readership comes great responsibility

About six months ago, I wrote the first post in a three-part series entitled The moral duty of the game critic. I'd like to tell you that the reason it's taken me six months to write the second part is because this post was so brilliantly complex and profound that it took me that entire half a year (!) to perfect it. But alas, that is not the case. I'm not going to list the multitude of reasons for my hiatus from this blog, but it would probably be best explained as something along the lines of university/life/moving house/lack of internet/whatever other factors I can blame for what is most likely my own wonderful tendency towards procrastination taken to dazzling new heights.

But the good news is: I'm back! Yes, that is good news, try to look a little more excited please. I've also consumed a ridiculously high amount of caffeine today, which was supposed to motivate me to write a rather dry essay on The Sims for university but has resulted in this word vomit instead. So let's continue, shall we?

In my last post, I discussed the notion that games critics basically don't owe you anything, you unappreciative little jerks. That is, games critics are more than entitled to analyse and discuss potential flaws within games, or the problematic nature of the games industry until the cows come home- in other words, do their actual job.

Now I'd like to discuss what games critics should keep in mind when doing this job- and no, I'm not talking about the opinion of anonymous fifteen-year-old commenter #415. Nor am I referring to grammatical consistency or the use of profanities. After all, everyone knows that capital letters, bold type and eyebrow-raising four letter words only make your argument stronger- no exceptions allowed, EVER. What I'm actually referring to is the abuse of power that comes with a larger readership.

You see, despite what your concerned grandparents may tell you, there actually are people out there who make a living from writing (or at least, they write professionally on the side of their banal hospitality job so they can actually pay their rent). These people are employed to write. And the reason editors employ them is not just because the words they string together look kind of nice on a piece of paper or a computer screen, but because their writing will draw people- readers- to their publication/website/post-modern zine about dungeon crawlers from the mid-nineties. And so as they write more and more content of increasing quality, more people will want to read what they're producing. Before you know it, our semi-employed games critic has themselves a rather large readership. Success!

That's when the oft occurring inflated sense of ego thing can take over. I'm not just talking about illusions of grandeur. By all means, if there's thousands of people out there who hang on your every written thought, then you're most definitely within your rights to give yourself a well-deserved pat on the back. You've earned it, buddy!

I'm also not referring to accepting sleazy sponsorship from leading manufacturers of your favourite MSG-laden (and somehow edible) food stuffs. You know what I'm talking about.

You see, with this dazzling widespread recognition often comes another feeling: the idea that you, the writer, live inside a bubble. You are the ruler of this bubble; anything you say is gospel, and anyone who wants to disagree with you can't, because who the hell are they to step inside your bubble and challenge your word?

Let me put it this way. If you write about or critique video games, then you are essentially commenting on a media product; something that is culturally significant and shaped by an industry that is a beautiful, writhing mass of different values, ideas, beliefs and variables that all come together and try to get along- sometimes successfully, sometimes not. This is very exciting! How wonderful it is that such a thing exists, and how great it is that we can be a part of it and maybe even get to talk about this stuff for a living!

But sometimes, games critics can get a little too wrapped up inside their own bubble. They've got thousands of people reading their thoughts on these video game things, and they worked damn hard on those words. So sometimes they act a bit... well, I don't want to say deluded, but let's just go with that.

Have a feeling you might fit the criteria? Let's see if any of the following thoughts have crossed your mind lately:

• "You want the link to my podcast? What, you can't trawl through the last six months of my articles to find the link? Wow, I thought my readers were dedicated. Apparently not. Find it yourself."
• "This guy just asked my opinion of an aspect of a game I just posted a review of. Wasn't what I wrote enough? Did it not encapsulate everything that could possibly be said about that game, ever? I don't have time for social discourse, buddy!"
• "What do you mean, you have a slightly different opinion to mine on this issue? But I'm right! Can't you see? Only I am allowed to be right! BLOCKED"
• "Another anonymous comment about my sexual promiscuity. I hate the internet."

Okay, so that last one was totally justified.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is this: some games critics are so involved with what's going on in their own bubble that they forget that they're just one tiny bubble in the bubble bath that is the video games industry.

So, what is this great responsibility that kindly and jerk-faced critics alike should probably keep in mind? It's simple: be humble. Acknowledge where you started. Realise that you're not getting paid to be an entitled wanker to people on twitter. Most importantly, recognise that you're part of a massive, constantly evolving media industry, and there are going to be people who don't agree with your opinion. Their comments on your thoughts aren't always an attack on your work. Sometimes, it's an invitation to an eye-opening conversation. You don't know everything there is to know about video games- and that's a good thing. Remember what your primary school librarian told you- learning is fun!


In my next post, I'll be discussing all that awesome good stuff critics are doing for the world. Now that they've managed to stop being total assholes, that is.

The moral duty of the game critic, part 1: obligations of the occupation

I'm going to make this as short and sweet as possible.

I am not a games critic. Right now, I'd probably describe myself as your stereotypical broke, stressed out student who certainly doesn't write enough for someone who endeavours to make a career out of writing (I've started early with the honesty on this one).

However, I do spend a lot of time looking at what actual game critics have to say about games, gaming culture and the industry. Mostly because it's bloody interesting and enlightening, but also because it inspires me; it gives me a broader perspective on a multitude of issues, opens my mind up to ideas and opinions I perhaps hadn't yet considered, and gives me ideas for my own writing.

Yes, this is the part where I talk about Anita Sarkeesian.

"How 'bout that patriarchy?"

Anita Sarkeesian is, as you may well know, a self-proclaimed feminist pop culture critic, and is probably most well known for her (extremely) successfully funded 'Tropes VS Women in Video Games' Kickstarter project, which criticises the commonly sexist portrayal of female characters in video games. She is also a Canadian-American, which is something I did not know existed. So there you go.

Anita still continues to receive a lot of negative responses to her videos. Most of these criticisms are laughable at best, so I tend not to pay much attention to the plethora of 'ANITA SARKEESIAN EXPOSED' response videos floating around YouTube. This is because most of them are slack-jawed yokels whose main beef with Feminist Frequency is that Anita is discussing video games whilst also possessing a pair of breasts.

Recently, however, I've seen a few anti-Anita criticisms of a different nature. That is, the suggestion that while pointing out the sexist flaws in games culture is a notably brave feat, Anita isn't actually doing much to fix the problem at all.

I have to admit, this argument threw me a little. Why? Because it's something I hadn't considered before.

I'm a big admirer of Anita's work. I applaud her wholeheartedly for doing what she does and facing the awful backlash that she's had to put up with. And I completely agree that something needs to be done about the ridiculous roles women frequently play in video game narratives. Which is what I thought Anita had been doing the entire time- dissecting stereotypes, questioning the system, smashing that institutionalised misogyny!

Or, maybe not. Perhaps Anita really is just all talk and no action. Sure, she's produced some excellent videos. She's compiled a lengthy list of resources on her website for anyone interested in learning more about the wonderful world of feminism. She even offers her videos to be freely used in any school or university curriculum. But why isn't she hosting rallies? Circulating petitions? Collaborating with developers to make the kind of games she thinks the community is so desperately lacking?

Just the other day, I was watching an interview with Russell Brand. He was defending his decision to not vote based on his disillusionment with the current governmental system. Jeremy Paxman, the interviewer, was dissatisfied with Brand's argument. He suggested that while it's all well and good that Brand can provide a rather extensive list of reasons why it's high time for a revolution, it's all pretty pointless if he can't at least propose a viable alternative or action plan.

Whilst I usually steer clear of the comments section on any video of a somewhat controversial nature, I decided to forgo my own personal rule and actually found a little gem of wisdom:

I think some people have a bit of a sullied view of critics. Contrary to popular belief, some people can make a living out of providing critiques of whatever the hell they want, and no, they don't have to adhere to the old adage of "I'd like to see you try and do better". They don't have to make something better than what they're displeased with. They don't have to design an easy-to-read Twelve Step Plan to Success Through Alternate Means. And they certainly don't have to design the games that far too many developers are too lazy to even attempt.

What critics are obligated to do is write something that makes people sit up and pay attention. I mean the kind of arguments that cause people to re-think what they think they know. In my opinion, if you've managed to write something  that inspires people to really think about what you're discussing, then congratulations. Job done. Go home and have yourself an ice cream sandwich. You've earned it.


So there you have it, folks. Over the next couple of weeks I'll be writing two more posts on the topic of game critics, so stay tuned for more inane garbled thoughts from my perpetually coffee-addled brain.

-The Pixel Pixie

What's up with today.... today?

I feel like there are two very different versions of myself. The first one is a stressed-out, perpetually busy university student still struggling to figure out the study/work/social life balance. The other is a lazy, nonchalant sloth who can spend days doing nothing but drinking cups of tea and watching episodes of Twin Peaks. Both of these versions are absolutely shocking at writing regular blog posts.

This is my attempt at both explaining my most recent reasons for this, as well as actually writing something new for this scarcely-maintained blog, thus killing two birds with one stone. Plus I get to write it in the form of a list! Lists are my favourite things. So that's like... three dead birds.

1. I moved house!  I finally escaped my awful, dodgy unit and villainous landlady and made the move to a lovely modern apartment. As well as the wonderful perks of a dishwasher, a massive TV and the ability to literally look down upon the world from the convenience of my bedroom, my housemate has a PlayStation 3. And you know what that means? I can finally play The Last of Us without having to buy a console! Please excuse me while I weep with much-anticipated joy.
2. I actually studied! Did you know that if you make an effort at university, they reward you with good grades? Apparently so. What a wonderful system.
3. I broke my iPhone! Well, to be fair, my iPhone sort of broke itself. I picked it up the other day to find that not only did it refuse to turn on, but had to be completely reset and wiped. Which means that I lost all my contacts, apps and precious lists. My lists! The place where I store all my spontaneous ideas for the blog posts I never write! But the worst part was definitely losing all my travel photos from New Zealand. I'd taken photos of different parts of the New Zealand wilderness that reminded me so much of specific landscapes in Skyrim, and was planning to make a cool series of comparison photos. Sigh. That's what I get for accepting a phone which has spent the majority of its life being handled by small children.
4. I volunteered at Freeplay Independent Games Festival! I got to meet a lot of super-awesome and inspiring people, listen to some brilliant talks from some equally-brilliant minds, and hang out all weekend in the State Library's Experimedia, where a whole bunch of indie developers were showcasing their games. I'll definitely be writing a lengthier post about it soon (no, really, I will!), but for now I can say that my favourites by far were Framed and Muse. I think I kind of made a bit of a fool out of myself in front of the Framed dudes by being a little too excited and overusing the word 'awesome'. Oh well.

Now that you can see why I've been so busy/stressed lately, I can assure you that I actually am making an effort to write things and publish them, too! At the moment I'm working on a 3-part piece about game critics. The first part will be focusing on Anita Sarkeesian, and will be posted before the end of the week.

In the meantime, please enjoy this photo of a very cool Bill Murray colouring book that I bought.

-The Pixel Pixie

The Witcher: a game I hate to love

Being the kind of person that I am (with my strong ethics and moral code and all), I sometimes find myself in odd situations that make me feel a bit uncomfortable.

A few years ago, these things wouldn't have really had much of an impact on me. But now that I'm apparently a grown up, I've found myself being nagged at by a really annoying little voice in my head that I'm pretty sure is my moral compass. This is generally a good thing, as it stops me from going from all Anakin Skywalker when things don't go my way (breathe easy, younglings). At the same time, it can sometimes prove to be a slight inconvenience- i.e., the cause of aforementioned discomfort.

Here is a list of a few things that make me super uncomfortable:

• Public displays of affection.
• My own social awkwardness.
• Accidentally using the term 'YOLO' in a non-ironic context.
• The fairly sexist portrayal of female characters in games that I really, really enjoy.

Those first three dot points are pretty self-explanatory. I'm a prudish, cringe-worthy ball of weirdness  who probably shouldn't be allowed to interact with the others. Over time, I've come to accept that maybe it's okay for people to show the world that they're in a happy relationship, or that it's not so bad to use awkward youth slang that doesn't actually prescribe to my own true beliefs of reincarnation and past lives. It's fine. I can pretend not to care.

However, what I really do take issue with is that last little dot point (and I sure love me some dot points). So here's the scenario: I'll be totally immersed in a new game- and trust me, when I get immersed, I get full-blown addicted. Meals are missed. Sick days are had. Sleepless nights all blur in to one. My hair is beyond the point of dry shampoo. It's not a pretty picture.

When sudddenly: BAM! SEXISM! 

I'm not going to say it surprises me. I mean, hello, it's 2013, and we're playing video games. Try to keep up.

But it still doesn't fail to throw me slightly off-kilter. Why? Because it just doesn't sit right with me.

I'm going to go with an obvious example here and reference The Witcher (the first instillation in the series, of course). Mostly because I really love that game, but also because it's notorious for these things:

One of the infamous sex- er, I mean, 'romance' cards.

If you haven't played The Witcher before, all you need to know is this: our hero, Geralt, is a superhuman witcher who can not slays monsters like it's going out of style, but can also charm the pants off almost any lady he encounters- prostitute or not (and trust me, there's no shortage of prostitutes). In fact, he's so great at it that he barely even has to try; every town he encounters is so well informed on his dazzling sexual ability that sometimes Geralt doesn't even need to make with the small talk. Example:

Geralt: Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you happen to know where I could find the-
Random townswoman #46: SHUT UP AND GET IN MY PANTALOONS*
*may or may not be entirely accurate/typical of actual game dialogue

Other times, Geralt need only string together a nice sentiment about nature to bed the nearest woman/half-elf/casually naked dryad.

Excellent vine placement, A+

Even the game's supposedly strong female support characters, Shani and Triss, are easily caught off guard and undermined when the slightest possibility of sex with Geralt is alluded to.

Insert redhead joke here.

Shani is particularly neurotic and becomes extremely jealous of Geralt's involvement with her fellow fiery redhead, Triss Merigold. Shani is more than happy to sleep with Geralt, so long as he presents her with a red rose- which aren't particularly hard to find, not to mention the same token Geralt can exchange with literally any prostitute for free romp with Vizima's finest.

Ultimately, Geralt is forced to pick only one gal to settle down with. However, this doesn't stop him with bedding any and all ladies he may come across in his travels. Hell no! After all, our hero Geralt is a bad ass warrior. And we all know that bad ass warriors can't be in committed relationships.

In fact, after Geralt does "put a ring on it" (no, really, there actually is a ring involved), his chosen maiden is then granted the exciting new job of staying home to look after Alvin, the weird orphan kid with disturbingly dark psychic powers who Geralt picked up along his travels. Geralt, overjoyed to be relieved of this pesky little brat, then dashes off in to the wilderness to fight bad guys and bed more lusty maidens; meanwhile, poor housewifey has to stay home and do homely medieval things, like cook stew, operate a loom, and pray to the gods that this creepy kid doesn't go all Carrie on her while she sleeps.

Possible lovechild of Julian Assange...?

Now, I'm not trying to say that the consistently sexist themes in The Witcher's narrative completely ruin the entire game for me; but I will say that it massively detracts from my enjoyment of it. Don't get me wrong- there are so many aspects of this game that I absolutely love, particularly as an RPG fanatic. I've always maintained a quiet obsession with anything medieval/fantasy, so The Witcher is obviously my kind of game. Not to mention the massively impressive open world aspect of the upcoming third installment, something I really yearned for whilst playing The Witcher 2: Assasins of Kings.

Essentially, The Witcher is like having a crush on someone with really hard-to-ignore personality traits. Like a person who has a swoon-worthy smile and the abs of a young Mark Wahlberg, but who also openly hates Bill Murray and sometimes makes mildly racist comments.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that yes, The Witcher is, in my opinion, a great game. A game I enjoy immensely. But also a game that makes me feel weird and wrong and a little bit hypocritical- "actions speak louder than words" and all that. But I'm not about to go avoiding games because of their politically incorrect and offensive content. Because let's face it, that would discount a lot of otherwise fantastic games.

What I will do is play games like The Witcher with an informed and critical mind, all the while praying for the day when I won't have to see weird sexist erotica in my beloved fantasy RPGs. And then I will write lengthy feminist rants on the subject. What a time to be alive!

All images courtesy of The Witcher Wiki

A Tale of Two Lines: My Most (un)Spectacular Adventure to Mana Bar

Now, before you start making assumptions about what I'm about to say, let me just state (yes, on record) that I am in no way attacking Mana Bar. In fact, I have absolutely no qualms with the place whatsoever. I'm not the type to hold grudges on establishments after only one visit.

Yes, that's right: before tonight, I had never, ever stepped foot inside Mana Bar, Melbourne' one and only video games bar. Which is kind of strange, considering it contains two of my favourite things: alcohol and video games.

I don't really know why I'd never bothered to even grab a quiet drink there before. Maybe it's because I'm one of those 'broke student' stereotypes with an expensive caffeine addiction to support, making social outings (i.e. drinking at bars) all but a distant memory. Maybe it's because I rarely leave my house unless it's to go to class or go to work. Or maybe it's because deep down inside, I really do agree with all those internet-dwelling, Mana Bar-haters who scoff about how they can get drunk and play video games from the comfort of their home for pretty much free, so why the hell would any idiot pay for it?

No, to be honest, the real reason I've never been to Mana Bar before is that I don't really know anyone who would go with me. I know, that sounds horribly sad and pathetic. I do have friends, and some of them would definitely be up for a social gaming session over a tasty cocktail; however, those friends live far, far away from me. In different cities. Accompanying me on spontaneous bar crawls are sort of impractical for them.

Today, however, was different. During my lunch break, I arranged to meet a friend outside Mana Bar after work. We'd casually discussed it before, and I'd told them how I was incredibly keen to check it out before it was gone forever, as low funds and complicated Melbourne liquor licensing laws were forcing Mana out of town. And so we agreed that we would be there for the bar's final hurrah.

A few hours later, I'm waiting outside the bar, dressed in my awful work clothes which of course were covered in bits of food and an assortment of filth. Suffice to say, it was not the usual attire one would wear during a night out in Fitzroy. Nevertheless, I was still optimistic. As the one-man line started to grow in numbers, I decided to join the queue and do some antisocial twitter browsing on my phone while waiting for my (now late) friend.  This was going to be fun... right?

About 45 minutes later, I'm right at the front of the line, when suddenly: my friend arrives! With... some drunk guy. Like, really drunk. Slumped against a wall, barely vertical, reeking of booze drunk. Apparently they'd decided to have more than a couple of pre-drinks. My confidence in getting let in suddenly dropped. Of course, I wasn't about to let my two newly-arrived accomplices push in line, because that's unfair and also I hate people who push in line with the intensity of one thousand burning suns. I begrudgingly navigated us to the back of the queue. Things were not looking good for our heroes.

An hour later, and we're still waiting to get in. My friend desperately wanted to leave, but I managed to convince them to wait "just twenty minutes longer!". Incredibly Drunk Guy swayed silently.

We eventually made it to the front of the queue. Then, even more remarkably, we got inside. The bar was tiny, just as I'd heard. It was also very crowded, something I'd also heard on the grapevine (i.e. the internet). While my friend escorted Incredibly Drunk Guy to the toilets, I waited in line for a drink, which I was now rather desperate for. 

Now, I'm one of those wonderful, socially awkward people who struggles to strike up a conversation with strangers in a bar while I'm sober. It's a bit sad, really. I'm by no means saying I need to be drunk and 'charming'. I just find it so much easier to initiate conversation and keep talking like a normal person when I have just half a drink in my system. Even just holding a drink in my hand helps. No, it's not alcoholism, it's just using alcohol as a crutch because I am a weird hermit who doesn't know how to socialise! Hurray!

All around me, people were talking loudly and animatedly about games, the bar, and general nerd culture. People were greeting cosplayers in character, as though they were old friends; more than once, I heard the phrase "WINTER IS COMING!" shouted with gusto. And I just stood there, silently watching, waiting alone in yet another line and hoping to get a drink in to my system, STAT.

Less than 20 minutes later, I was walking out the front door of Mana Bar. My visit was short-lived, my expectations unfulfilled. That 20 minutes involved my friend returning from the toilet, shouting about refusing to wait in line for a drink, and me convincing them to stay long enough for one game. We ended up playing Mario Kart Wii, which I was absolutely appalling at. Wii controllers are a strange and foreign technology to me, which was very apparent if the unamused look on our fourth player's face was anything to to by. He diligently explained how to use the controllers, kicked our asses and left without saying another word. So much for socialising.

Yes, my one and only visit to Mana Bar was a complete and utter disaster. The line was long, the venue itself was crowded and tiny, and if I'd managed to actually get to the bar and order a drink, I'm sure I'd have lamented the cost of the drinks.

Obligatory grainy photo obviously taken on my phone

But these were all things that I was totally expecting, and didn't mind at all. So no, I do not blame Mana Bar for my awful night. In fact, I can only blame myself. I'm pretty sure that on any other night, perhaps with a slightly wiser choice of company, I would have had a delightful time sampling delicious cocktails and bonding with complete strangers over our love of games.

Any even wiser version of myself would have left those drunken suckers from tonight waiting in line, gone inside, grabbed a drink and made some new and better friends (my Mario Kart Wii ability would probably have been about the same).

Instead, I left Mana Bar very sober and very bitter as I listened in silent horror as my friend ranted about how they "absolutely hate gamers". Yep.

Nevertheless, the general atmosphere tonight was that of almost unanimous positivity. Mana Bar has definitely held a very special place in the heart of Melbourne's gamer community. And if the happy faces of those inside and the unwavering determination of those waiting to get in are anything to go by, it will certainly be missed.