Bliterations
Thoughts/Gaming

“Synthetic Worlds: The Business and Culture of Online Games”
23
Feb

  • label: Book Review

Author: Edward Castronova | Publisher: University of Chicago Press | 2006

The internet has reached a point in its evolution where many questions are being raised as to whether or not it’s truly beneficial to society. It could be argued that this is the next logical step in a new technology’s “upbringing,” but the news reports on never-ending spam, network crippling viruses, sexual predators, E-Bay and Craigslist swindles, jihad web-pages, Facebook harassment, etc., are the dominant form of internet education, persuading one to believe there is little hope. Online gaming is no exception; EverQuest (EQ, 1999) and World of Warcraft (WoW, 2004) are titles that the general public is familiar with due to the controversy surrounding them—Avatar relationships leading to player weddings/divorces and “gold farming” sweatshops are still making the rounds on mainstream media—instead of whether or not they’ve actually played the games themselves. But there is a deeper socio-economic layer lurking beneath the sensationalism surrounding these online games that deserves scrutiny. In Synthetic Worlds: The Business and Culture of Online Games, Edward Castronova presents a thought provoking, well-rounded introduction to online gaming and its far-reaching implications, both good and bad.

The book is written with the non-informed in mind, which is welcome, as acronyms like MMORPG (which, just for the record, is shorthand for Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, the official genre for games like EQ and WoW) can be intimidating for those not familiar with the industry or its vernacular. Castronova is kind enough to walk the reader through a “Synthetic World”—the game environment that players spend their time inhabiting and interacting with—and the different gameplay components that make the MMORPG genre unique. What is startling about these game universes, Castronova makes explicit, is that they contain highly complex systems of commerce, trade, governance, and social interaction that both rival and transcend the systems of the “outside,” and they are growing more complex as the technology that builds them keeps expanding. A game like Second Life (2003), for example, allows the player to purchase, in U.S. dollars, acres of virtual “land” that they can construct practically anything on. Being an economist, Castronova has extended chapters on the systems of commerce that are in place within these game universes, containing an exhaustive amount of detail. But he makes an effective point—what appears to be micro-level exchanges of things like gold pieces for in-game tools and weapons is actually influencing the outside world on a macro scale: once the game currency of EQ trades at a rate that rivals and/or surpasses the yen, it’s time to take notice. And it has. In 2001.

The argument that Castronova makes throughout his book is that these synthetic worlds are affecting our real world (and vice-versa), and we should be examining the social and economic structures of these “games” more closely. Tens of millions of people spend their time within these fabricated universes, and the numbers seem to be growing as more and more people are gaining the technology required to visit them (a broadband connection is the highest hurdle in this respect, but as of 2009, that global barrier is being torn down on a daily basis). Consider Korea, the most “wired” country in the world: higher real-world divorce rates due to affairs occurring within game-worlds; people who have not left their physical homes in over two years, preferring to remain online; even stress-induced deaths caused by gaming marathons. Indeed, these events find their place within the mainstream media with disturbing regularity and provide perfect fodder for doomsday predictions, but Castronova does more than simply report these alarming figures in Synthetic Worlds (and yes, the “WoW Sweatshop” issue is present here as well); the author offers an insightful analysis as to what has, and can, be done about them. The connection between real and virtual—the “porous membrane,” in the author’s own words—lies with both users and creators, and it will take an equal effort from all parties involved to ensure that the evolution of these spaces is one that results in a positive stance on the technology, instead of tabloid sound bytes that are designed to instigate rather than invite.

Links:
Synthetic World Institute
Author’s Personal Site
Terra Nova: Virtual World Weblog

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 23rd, 2009 :: Book Reviews :: Tags : , , , , ,
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Multiplatformulas
17
Feb

There was a time (as I’m sure was the case in many gamers’ lives) when I was forced to decide which hardware system to purchase or receive as a gift for the holidays. As a kid growing up in the late ’80s/early ’90s, it was a no-brainer: Nintendo systems were part of the zeitgeist in American popular culture, so there was almost no way to NOT want an NES or SNES (with due respect to Sega fans, who I know are plentiful in number). Those were the systems I received for my 6th birthday and Christmas 1991, respectively. And while my love for Nintendo proved to be a strong bond (I purchased every hardware system Nintendo has produced since then, with the notable exception of the Virtual Boy since it physically hurt my eyes when I tried out a demo station at a Toys R Us), there was the consumerist zealot inside of me, gently prodding along my envious desire to own a Genesis, a GameGear, a PC (our family computer was a Macintosh, and while Shufflepuck Cafe (1989) and Myst were great, how was I going to play Half-Life and Planescape Torment on that?), a Playstation, etc., etc., even though I knew there was no real way to rationalize and condense such extravagance into a blunt request that my parents could stomach. They were of the mindset that one system per cycle was enough, a perfectly cogent argument and one that even  trickled into my sub-conscious and waylaid me from buying any other hardware on top of the one Nintendo system per generation, although with enough elbow grease I could definitely have worked and saved up enough to afford another system every few years or so.

It was the Summer of 2004 in which I finally plunged into the depths of cross-platform hardware ownership. I had just graduated college and wanted to celebrate…SOMEHOW. I wandered into a Best Buy with the sole intent of picking up a copy of Mega Man Anniversary Collection (2004) for GameCube (yes, THAT one) and somehow managed to walk out of there with a PS2 and a copy of GTA: Vice City (in addition to MMAC for GameCube, I’m sorry to say). I remember just being proud that I had really earned the privilege of owning multiple systems—and rivals to boot! Believe me, being a multiple system owner during a single cycle changes your perspective on things. When you see that two competing platforms can occupy, thrive and then eventually wither and gather dust within the same space on your shelf, you become more aware of their materiality than any consumer report and sales chart can hope to illustrate for you.

This cycle (or generation, or permutation, or however you want to classify it) is particularly different and painful for a cantankerous consumer like myself. The market seems to be divisive between the so-called “core” gamers (oh, how I do hate that word, along with other token game journalism signifiers like “mechanic” that are so broad and nebulous they end up diluting their own meanings completely) and the “casual” audience (”casual” meaning recreation I guess, but…EVERYBODY plays games as a recreation, so what is the point of this word).

(I have to interrupt myself and apologize for my frequent use of parentheticals.)

However, the idea of the multi-platform game and, I think it is safe to say, “parsed down” list of hardware one chooses from is actually resulting in a hobby that’s pretty simple to understand and make pat buying decisions about. A triple-A title that comes out from a third-party publisher is, with a high degree of probability, going to come out for whatever computer box you happen to have in your possession at this very moment. Those that don’t, well, that list isn’t as big as it could be, so either you have the liquidity to pay for these “exclusives” (which encompasses the game and the hardware you need to play it with) or you don’t. We can apply digital distribution to this equation as well.

Here’s a couple formulas which should help put things into perspective:*

An Exclusive purchase is the exclusive Game plus the Hardware needed to play it.

A “normal” Game purchase requires the system but without any Exclusivity factor attached to it.

The purchaser Interest in buying a hardware system is equal to the cost of the system itself, divided by the attached exclusives you want to play for it, minus any multi-platform games that you can get for the current system that you own, which therefore render them superfluous.

“I” MUST be greater than “G”, or the result is negative—or “DF,” which in this case is defined as “Damn Fool.”

I weighed these quick and dirty equations last October when LittleBigPlanet and Valkyria Chronicles came out in rapid fire succession, and I made the somewhat impulsive decision to buy a PS3, figuring that my “I” values juuuuust edged out my G values (in this case, G equals an Xbox360 and Wii).

So, am I proud to be the owner of every console system in this current cycle? No, no, I can’t say that I am. Actually, I have to be SOMEWHAT proud, or else why would I spout meaningless and technically incorrect mathematical formulas and parentheticals—and my word, there are so many parentheticals I’m resorting to em dashes now—on this topic? But really, considering the pile of unplayed, unopened games in my library (and they go back YEARS, folks), the stark realization that my amount of free time has been reduced by about 300% since I bought this stuff, and the rising expenses that are going to accompany the tattered U.S. economy for what will probably be quite some time longer, I think shame is a more appropriate characterization.

But not remorse.

*Equations not proofed.

Links:
Write your own meaningless equations!
Shufflepuck Cafe Redux

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 17th, 2009 :: Posts :: Tags : , , , , , , , , , ,
2 Comments

Tractatus DQMJ
12
Feb

“How small a thought it takes to fill a whole life!” —Ludwig Wittgenstein

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 12th, 2009 :: Posts :: Tags : , , , ,
3 Comments

Taking Control: Phenomenology and Gaming
10
Feb

  • label: Feature

I’m a self-proclaimed Mega Man fan (my first post was about a specific level in Mega Man 2 (1988), after all), and I think that stems mostly from the simplicity of action that the game provides. Move, jump, shoot, the occasional slide or simple vehicle segment—that pretty much covers the entire control set of the series (please note that I am going to be restricting these thoughts to the main numbered titles, and also please note that I have sampled them all but have also not completed them all), with the obvious and brilliant variations on what you can actually shoot and when, and why. A simple tool set, amidst an incredibly challenging and ever-changing environment, multiplied with the semi non-linear fashion with which you can tackle those environments and use your tool set as it becomes more varied, equals fantastic game design. I played Mega Man 2 and Mega Man 3 (1990) to death when they were released, and even backtracked to the first game, just because I enjoyed the formula so much. 

But I’m not here to wax nostalgic about those games or the series in general. There is enough material out in the world already to do it for me. What I wanted to write about is actually my experience with the newest game, Mega Man 9 (2008), and, more importantly, the way in which I interacted with it—specifically, the way that I related to the game world through the controller I had in my hands.

Read more »

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 10th, 2009 :: Features :: Tags : , , , ,
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Games/New York
5
Feb

  • label: Image Series

Part of a continuing series of images. Click on photo to see full size.

Maybe it’s the precise sense of space that this ad for Spore achieves by being split up into two banners, or maybe it’s the indirect social commentary that it exudes (tons of microorganisms crammed into a limited area, much like the population of the city itself), or heck, it may even be the ironically sparse and oblivious pedestrians on the street below, but this is one of the best game advertisements that I’ve seen around my neighborhood.

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 5th, 2009 :: Images :: Tags : , , , ,
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Boxing Day
2
Feb

While, from a business point of view, Nintendo’s recent strategy of giving select GameCube games a second wind as Wii titles with remote-centric controls makes absolute sense (a new, millions strong install base of Wii owners who never owned a GameCube—or any game system, for that matter—are probably hungry for any type of good game that doesn’t involve throwing darts or brushing hair), I can’t help but feel like this also may simply be a knee-jerk reaction to the “core” demographic that are complaining about the lugubrious state of first party titles.

I’m bringing this up because I’m extremely worried that Nintendo has just given up on any sort of originality or frequency for their games developed in-house, and are instead focusing their corporate energy in designing (or, as in the case of the new Wii Play Control titles, half-hearted re-packaging) software that directly applies their new futuristic and sterile aesthetic. If you’ve ever seen any of those “world of tomorrow” reels and exhibits from the 50’s and 60’s, then you know what I’m talking about: The family of the future, enjoying sanitary autonomous meals being served from spotless machines. Safe, reliable and clean create an environment that exudes the comforts of home without the inherent danger. Kids, remember to finish your Veggpak, or you won’t get any Yogurt Pump!

While Nintendo has seemed to nudge us in that direction with things like the Apple influenced DS Lite and the benignly communal atmosphere of Wii Sports (2006), I feel like Mario Kart Wii (2008) has proven to be the ultimate perpetrator/offender in this regard. Let’s look at the box art:

“WELCOME TO MARIO…uhhh, wait, what are we commoditizing again?”

To me, this box is the absolute epitome of Nintendo shedding their old “electronic toy” image. Everything that characterizes the classic, colorful, rubber-burning weapon-throwing appeal of the previous games has been erased. And I mean that literally. THE ENTIRE KART OF MARIO KART has been removed (save for some vague shadows on the ground), leaving only strange floating aberrations of Mario and Luigi holding their pristine white wheel controllers against an equally stark background that evokes the prison in THX1138 (1971) more than the Mushroom Kingdom. The future is here, and there’s no need to worry about crashing your kart or getting hurt. Just make sure to wrap your controller in silicon, so No One Gets Hurt!

But this sanitizing doesn’t stop with the box art. The title screen of the game matches the box art exactly—has this ever happened in a video game? Likewise, the in-game menu and option screens look and sound more like the touch screen at an airline ticketing kiosk than a rollicking mascot-filled chaotic kart racer that defines the very genre that Mario Kart itself defined. I know that there are perfectly cogent arguments for the actual gameplay, the tracks and online play, and trust me, I’m not trying to downplay the true meat and bones of Mario Kart games. But it would be very naive to not admit that first impressions are very important, and for a tried and true Nintendo fan myself, I felt the pangs of skepticism travel up my spine as soon as I saw the box.

Showing characters of a video game actually holding their own means of interaction is a little disturbing to me as well. I was going to write that it’s sort of like a puppet holding up its own strings and pointing out the artifice of it all, but I think it’s instead more akin to a puppet holding their strings steady and sliding the entire stage underneath their feet around to make themselves dance—they’re not only bringing to light their lack of control over their own world, but they’re undermining the entire construct of that world as well. I don’t know what wall/s that’s breaking, but it’s at least a few. Mario and Luigi are not only fictional totems of a fictional universe but, as Mario Kart Wii implies, they are aware of that in some devastating way, and they’re letting us know that they know by using their own controllers to play themselves. Is Mario actually controlling himself in Mario Kart, or is he the one responsible for Luigi’s gasp of horror as they edge their anti-karts over a phantom cliff that no one will ever be aware of, not even themselves? Are they driving each other’s souls perhaps?

I suppose I shouldn’t be too critical of a game’s box art. At least Mario Kart Wii HAS art. I snapped a few blurry cell-phone pictures while browsing one of the local game purveyors, and came across this:

The game we’re looking for is Puzzler Collection (2008), published by Zoo Games:

Hopefully you can make out when I saw, but if not, I’ll break it down for you: A third party Wii title WITHOUT A LABEL ON THE SPINE. If you were to line your games up on the shelf, it would be a mystery game, a flaming grab bag if you’ll indulge me. I know that the Seal of Quality has been a tad lax lately, but I mean, Nintendo! *wags finger* Are there no standards for disc packaging now as well? Can I publish a game with no original content and NO LABEL and get away with it, as long as it adheres to your neutered corporate vision of family entertainment?

May I interest you in some Yogurt Pump? With hot fudge dust?

Posted by Kurt Shulenberger on February 2nd, 2009 :: Posts :: Tags : , , , , ,
0 Comments