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Bliterations
Thoughts/Gaming

“From Sun Tzu to Xbox: War and Videogames”
28
Jan

Author: Ed Halter | Publisher: Thunder’s Mouth Press, PublicAffairs | 2006

In From Sun Tzu to Xbox: War and Videogames, Ed Halter presents a sweeping historical narrative of the different connections between war and gaming. Some of these are brazenly explicit (i.e., America’s Army (2002), a highly successful downloadable computer game that was developed by the military as a promotional and recruitment tool), while others are eked out through Halter’s extensive historical research (the most morbid being Airfight, a late 1970′s computer game produced for the government developed PLATO networka precursor to the present day Internet and the main inspiration for the first Microsoft Flight Simulator, a game now infamous for training 9-11 hijackers), but all reveal a startling relationship between the real horrors of war and the simulated battles that take place in games’ virtual spaces. Halter’s book, in his words, is “a history of warfare told through videogames, or a history of videogames told through war…It is about how videogames are products of war, but have in turn become ways to think about war.” In the course of telling this history, Halter not only offers a fresh perspective on the military’s driving force behind advancements in technology, but provides a close socio-political and cultural study of electronic gaming that most serious writing on ludology neglects to mention.

The title of the book indicates the chronology that Halter traces in his exploration of war and gaming, beginning with early board games such as Go and Chess, games created for entertainment that subsequently simulate “an idealized drama of war.” Sun Tzu’s The Art of War even doubles as a guidebook for Go strategy, which reinforces the concept of strategy shaping the way modern wars are fought and won. The emphasis on strategy eventually resulted in the ultimate “analog” war game, the ‘Kriegspiel,’ which proved to be both entertaining and educational as it was used as a training device in Europe during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The interest that military institutions took to games and their ability to train recruits under the guise of entertainment is a historical vein that runs throughout Halter’s book, from the first ‘Kriegspiels‘ to the U.S. Army’s commission of a prototype tank trainer from the Atari Corporation in 1980 (which was actually a Battlezone arcade game modified to the exact specifications of a Bradley tank), to the recent Full Spectrum Warrior console game developed with soldier training in mind. As modern warfare evolved into what Halter describes as the “pushbutton” battles that were fought in the Gulf Warthe “Nintendo War” as some media journalists dubbed itthe need for more advanced technology in war simulations became apparent, resulting in the government funding and resources that eventually led to the present day Internet and realistic CGI graphics that both videogame developers and players currently enjoy. The idea that the hardware and software “wars” raging between videogame companies are not only triggered by the military’s need for more advanced simulation and training methods, but are also indirectly sponsored and funded by these institutions, is a startling one. Halter, however, offers compelling evidence in favor of his argument that “the technologies that shape our culture have always been pushed forward by war.”

If Halter’s book offers a history of videogames in war, then it also produces an equally rich history of war in videogames. As gaming technology evolved over the past three decades, so did the portrayal of battle, ranging from the abstract blocks and colors of games like Missile Command and the thinly veiled ranks and files of alien “troops” in Space Invaders to the realistic first person shooters that dominate the market today. Now, Halter writes, there is a commercial factor in pushing the boundries of war in videogames“no subsidies” necessary. September 11th effectively created a deluge of war-themed games that saturated the household market from 2001-2004, when anger and fierce patriotism fueled the need for a catharsis. Although most of these gamesby their manner of being quickly and cheaply produced in order to keep up with current trends and maximize profitwere universally panned by critics, their popularity lies in their ability to give gamers at least some manner of control over current events, albeit a simulated, fleeting one. Halter singles out Kuma/War (2004) as an example of this; at a time when viewers were scrambling for any sort of information on the military campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq, Kuma/War uses actual news reports to create online “missions” that gamers can recreate through the perspective of a participating soldier. Other games that Halter mention, like one of the many Flash-based computer animations featuring the torturing and killing of a digitized Osama bin Laden, simply “satisfy the urge to deal symbolic harm by defacing someone’s image,” and are marketed as a type of war-time therapy. As more war themed titles choose to depict combat through a specific socio-historical contextnot just 9-11, but the Great War, the Gulf War and even the Vietnam Waran interesting paradox is revealed: although technology has advanced greatly since the emergence of the first videogames and current titles are more realistic than ever before, the actual ‘game’ of war remains unchanged, and continues to feed society’s desire to ‘play’ from a safe distance. “War is hell,” Halter writes as an encapsulation of software companies’ ideology, “but in videogame form, it’s also fun as hell.”

Although Halter’s occasional references to cinema studies scholars and art films can be somewhat jarring (cinema, no doubt, is another interest of his), no passage is tangential and many are eloquently written. As a historical text, From Sun Tzu to Xbox succeeds as a thoroughly researched yet accessible account of the relationship between the military and software developers, the warmakers and the gamemakers. But Halter aims higher than simply a straightforward description of these events; through the book’s socio-political and cultural commentary, war itself is seen as a game, a game that has been played symbolically for centuries, and continues to exist today in the advanced simulations being carried out in millions of homes. As videogames continue to grow in popularity, and become increasingly advanced and equally ambitious in scope, three conflicts are destined to continue: the war raging in living rooms, the war between the game developers for consumer dollars, and the “real” warbe it in Iraq, Afghanistan, or elsewherethat drives them all.

Links:
Official Book Site
Official Book Blog
Author’s Personal Site [Warning: this website contains flashing lights]
Kuma/War Game


Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on January 28th, 2009 :: Book Reviews :: Tags : , ,
3 Comments

Braid: Everything and Nothing
23
Jan

“Braid: Everything and Nothing (as a Video Game)” has been posted at The Auteurs’ Notebook. You can find the article here.


Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on January 23rd, 2009 :: Features :: Tags : , , ,
0 Comments

Introduction: Bubble Man
22
Jan

While I can begin by writing about who I am, why I’ve started this blog and what I hope to achieve through its existence (you can check out the About section for all of that relevant information), I think it would be better to raise the curtain on the small excursion we’re about to take by describing Bubble Man’s stage from Mega Man II (1988). I hope that you can get an idea of what Bliterations is or will attempt to be through my personal recounting of the level. And if not, then I hope that maybe you’ll give me a second chance down the line, as sincere introductions can be very difficult to convey in our culture of ever-increasing cynicism.

Screenshots courtesy of VGMuseum

First, some background: Mega Man II, Keiji Inafune’s pet project at Capcom that would go on to be hailed as the best game in the Mega Man series (if not one of the best 8-bit video games period) was the first Mega Man game that I played, and one of the first Nintendo Entertainment System games that I ever owned, as 1988 was the year that I received a Nintendo for my birthday (I had just turned six). Mega Man games, on the whole, can be brutally difficult, but serve as the perfect example of “treadmill” gameplay done successfully—try, fail, and fail again, but eventually, through sheer muscle memory grinding and good old fashioned practice, you reach a plateau of accomplishment and begin to relish each and every robot boss window that darkens on the level select screen with their defeat, one by one. The robust weapon upgrading system plays a huge part in alleviating the early frustrations and encouraging your progression, giving you more and more tools to experiment with as you get farther and farther into the game, culminating in the eventual multi-stage symphony of weapon switching that is Dr. Wiley’s fortress, a veritable kaleidoscope of costume changes and select screen manipulation that one executes with instinctual precision after so many hours of having to maneuver around its somewhat clunky interface from the second section onward.

The individual levels are more or less the same in their construction and objectives, but Bubble Man’s level seemed different for me as a kid than, say, Crash Man or Metal Man. Everything about the level design was a pleasure to play through—and I really do mean that. While most of the other stages seem to revel in their own cartoonish futurism, cold and mechanical (as is the case with Air Man, cluttering the sky with artificial clouds stuck in some kind of materialization and movement loop, proving that not even the skies are safe from technology), Bubble Man seems to retain a warm, organic aesthetic that’s lacking in the others—even Wood Man, where nature and flora make up practically the entire layout…I mean, you traverse through a tree, for goodness’ sake.

No, there’s something about Bubble Man that’s special, that feels more alive and exciting. For one, water is EVERYWHERE, shimmering with animation and even turning otherwise gray scrap metal into a mildly relaxing emerald obstacle course. The enemies also have a kind of life to them that imitates fauna: Robotic frogs birth smaller frogs that rest before their jumps (I remember positioning myself between their gaps and just watching them act like frogs), mechanized shrimp slowly sink between propulsions, and crabs clack their claws as they bounce towards you.

So from the moment you touch down in front of a waterfall, you’re instantly drawn into this location. Not a factory, or a plant, or scaffolding, but a PLACE that’s pleasing to look at. Aurally, the Bubble Man track is one of my favorites in all of game music. An instantly up-beat, exotic and inviting soundtrack seems to subliminally encourage you to keep going, as it has a driving rhythm and repetition that promote forward movement, in the way that any good tempo-driven music leaves you with the desire to do anything but sit still. The loop that connects end to beginning is virtually seamless, since the track ends with one of those hypnotic arpeggios that can keep going and going, until your expectations become so great that there is no other way the song can conclude except by starting all over again with the same kind of unmitigated resolve.

Download Bubble Man Mp3

There’s a natural and forward driving design that underlies Bubble Man’s stage as well. Mega Man begins at a high elevation, on a platform by a waterfall, but eventually must travel downward, beneath the surface of the water and amongst the robot enemies that lurk there (always just out of sight before springing themselves on you in full force, as Mega Man games tend to do). You can’t help but feel that your ultimate goal is to get out of that blue vastness and back onto dry land. The physics in this section help promote this—by having a reduced sense of gravity, you’re able to jump twice as high, and you must handle those walls and ceilings of spiked orbs just a tad more carefully. And while Mega Man never technically reaches the same elevation that he began at, the moment you leap out of water and are on dry platforms amidst glistening waterfalls again, dodging falling clacky crabs, there’s a sense of relief, a feeling that, yes, you made it, water is still flowing and you must press on. No need to worry about rust.

It’s an incredibly optimistic section of Mega Man II, a break from the normal dystopian foundry firefights that make up the rest of the game. And I guess that through this overly romantic description of a level in a video game, I’m giving you, Dear Reader, an introduction to what these kinds of games can be: a form of entertainment that invites both artistry for the creator and meaningful reflection for the player. While our discussions on this site may become theoretical, overly analytical, even a tad elitist, that’s not due to any forced act of didactic snobbery on my part. It’s just that, when you love a creative expression so much, you can’t help but try to reciprocate that expression as eloquent and thoughtfully as you possibly can.

This is what Bubble Man means to me.


Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on January 22nd, 2009 :: Posts :: Tags : , , ,
3 Comments

Welcome
15
Jan

Thanks Tim and Eric (and John!).


Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on January 15th, 2009 :: Posts :: Tags : ,
1 Comment