Geeklog Site

Fieldwork Logs

Mon, 21 Jan 2008 13:38:00 -0600

I've decided to go ahead and try an experiment on this website, and we'll see how it works out. I've decided to write a paper on the politics of console wars, from fanboys to high-powered marketing execs and everything in between. I'll be combining fieldwork and interviews with a cultural studies text/context analysis, and keeping a fieldwork log here on eternalgamer.com that I hope people will comment on to give me their impressions of my impressions, and in this way create a reflexive and reciprocal dialogue that will inform my final work. I look forward to hearing from you, so stay tuned for more.

From the Archive: The American Dream is the Next Item Up for Bid! (09/28/2005)

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 14:40:00 -0600

Well folks, as some of you surely know, I recently made my first venture to Los Angeles, and more specifically, West Hollywood, where I attended a taping of the Price is Right. This was a fascinating experience for me for many reasons, one of which is that I've never attended a taping for any television show before. Next, and far more influential, is that the Price is Right has long been one of America's most popular game shows. The gents over at CBS are fond of reminding everyone that the show has been on for 34 years, and will indeed continue for at least one more. So what is it about the show that makes it so popular, and why should this be important to us? Bob Barker, after playing a game of Safe Crackers, explained to us that the reason the show has been so successful is becuase it's exciting and fast-paced. I interpreted this to mean that Bob thinks he is primarily playing upon people's material desires, that is, by giving away lots of very valuable items in an incredibly short period of time he's really able to bombard the "stuff" nerve with enormous stimulation. The stuff nerve is, admittedly, a big part of American culture. However, is that what inspires us to play along at home? Is it what inspires thousands of people to make a pilgrimage to Los Angeles to meet Bob Barker, the object of their inspiration? Of all the game shows we could choose to watch, why does Bob have throngs of amorous fans while Pat stands by his wheel cracking lame jokes?

The Price is Right experience begins at about 3am, for that's when those of us not coming in large groups begin to congregate outside the CBS studio to ensure our place as audience member and potential contestants. It's a group of die-hard fans from far away, many of whom have been there before. No matter where these people have been, or what hardships their lives have weathered, Fairfax Avenue at 3am is one of the most joyous streets in LA. For indeed, many of these people are about to have a life-affirming experience by realizing the television show they have watched since they were young. The unreality of TV is about to be rendered real by experiencing it as it is.

And indeed, part of that experience is the twelve hour wait. People of all ages come from all parts of the country, and the unusual is indeed not so unusual. After all, when was the last time you saw two 96 year-old women celebrate their birthday, the same day, in the same place? During those mystical hours, from 3am to 4pm, boundaries of age, color, and class mean nothing. The Price is Right is one of the last safe havens for the American Dream to reside in popular culture.

PoMo Homesteading

Jackson Turner's Frontier Thesis, agree with it or not, spelled out one of the biggest problems with the myth of the American Dream. If what made America great was the yeoman farmer and the frontiersman, who were given the means to a financially secure life (and, therefore, an interest in making democracy work), what would take the place of the frontier in ensuring that America's citizens continued to be great citizens? What would provoke the unique character-building exercise of private ownership and hard work?

The Homestead Act provided the means by which every family in the US could live the American Dream in the west. All that had to be done was to "come on down" and claim the land by working it. The law was more or less egalitarian, open to both sexes, all races, and all classes. In the post-modern era, in which America's land resources are, for the most part, taken, there remains no means for the individual American citizen to obtain the foundation of a secure lifestyle and guaranteed property. I don't bring this up to make a direct comparison with the Price is Right, but rather to draw an aesthetic comparison.

Corporate capitalism has all but dominated the post-modern American experience, coming just short of crushing the American Dream completely out of existence. Bob, himself, proves to be a survivor of this transition, coming from an Indian Reservation through the Air Force to 34 years of television stardom. The pilgrimmage to CBS Studios, the long waits, and the 96-year birthdays all become an expression of longing, and of faith, that, perhaps, Bob will grant the American Dream for you and I.

What I mean to say is this: the American Dream is a sense of entitlement. Meaning, it is expected that a certain amount of capital will be provided as a starting point to fair competition in a free-market system. This was the case with homesteading, and it no longer exists today as the poor find themselves land-locked in under-achieving markets without adequate recourse to public funds.

And yet, the American Dream lives on as a distant memory and a legend of rampant empire building. Bob Barker is one of the icons of this legend, providing the few that make the pilgrimmage to worship capitalism with the means to compete. One of the contestants, who I was speaking with in line a great deal, managed to win $16,000 and the showcase showdown. After the show, she said to Bob, "Thank you so much! Now I can finally go to college!"

What our nation will no longer provide as an adequate starting point, Bob Barker will. This, I am sure, is one of the reasons for his near-cult following.

The Price is Right Formula

Why, then, doesn't Regis have the same following as Bob? He does, after all, give away a hell of a lot more money. If the game show serves a similar function to homesteading, Regis should be even more popular, right? That's not to say that Regis isn't popular--he is. And yet, I don't know a single person who worships Regis the same way people worship Bob. Very rarely do you see people more excited to meet Regis than to be on 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.'

Regis asks a lot of his contestants. They need to have real knowledge to reach the upper ranks of prize money. Bob, on the other hand, only asks that we have only the most fundamental knowledge of consumer culture to appear on his show and have success. Critical thought must reach only the level of realizing that toilet paper is cheaper than vitamins. As long as one is able to accomplish this meager task, the rest is in the hands of fate.

Even in the games where the prize is a car, and one must discern every number in the price of the car to win, it is not expected that know the exact price of said car. Indeed, we should only be able to guess within thousands of dollars, the last couple of digits are purely chance-based, even in the most educated buyers. In other words, it truly is an egalitarian system, as long as one lives in a buy and sell economy.

Why, then, is this a game that we play? I would venture that the Price is Right represents a liminal space between mundane survival and extravagance. It is a space where the everyday task of shopping for basic necessities is transformed into a carnivalesque experience that celebrates and rewards our ability to survive in the world we have created for ourselves. It is also a very immersive experience, whether we are at home or in the studio.

Take for example an average morning. We wake up, wander to the fridge, have a boal of cereal or scramble some eggs and pop some bread in the toaster. We think about going to work, we take a shower and use some soap, then we find ourselves brushing our teeth. Then, if we have the luxury of a late start, we can put on the Price is Right. The titles suggest to us, "Leave your worries behind" or "Everything is happy," and we are rendered entranced by the visage of people, who look and are just like you and me, screaming with ecstacy about the same very products we just used with apathy about the very routine they suggest. Taken out of context, they are elevated, and in turn suggest the celebration of our own routine for an hour's time every weekday morning.

The variety of games posits the illusion of variety and excitement in our everyday encounter with light consumer goods, just as the occasional insertion of a vehicle mirrors our own excitement over the few-times per lifetime purchase of a new car or SUV. Everything about the format of the show suggests ordinary and everyday, but then one takes into account the set with the beautiful shining lights, vivid 70s colors, and the mob of enchanted fans determined to prove their worth in consumer society. It's almost as if each person cries out, "Here I am! I watch the show, I buy stuff, I exist! Notice me!" To get the opportunity to approach contestant's row is the opportunity to justify this claim.

It is here that the average person is transformed into a homesteader. One must be able to appraise various items, and report their worth without going over. Paying too much for something is, after all, the cardinal sin of being a consumer. If one wants to have success in America, one must never pay too much. The successful bidder makes his way to a pricing game, where they are lifted up to the stage and celebrated by the masses for their ability to determine the price of objects. Indeed, the masses are hoping for them to win. "If it can't be me," says the disillusioned consumer, "let it be someone like me to win something in return for their lifetime of buying."

The wheel represents the second chances we wish we could have. If one loses a pricing game, they always have the chance to win by spinning the wheel. This, of course, requires no skill whatsoever, and therefore carries with it all the innocence of uninspired chance. Chance can also be read as opportunity. Today there are no second chances, the consumer entrenched in credit card debt, mortgages, and college tuition never gets an opportunity to try again. And of course, if one is chosen by chance--by the wheel--one gets to try for the best prize of all. The showcase showdown.

This is the only point in the game where two people compete head-to-head for the ultimate prize. They have already had their chance at homesteading, at a prize just for them without the threat of a competitor. Now is their chance to prove their worth, to compete, for an even better result. This reeks of the American Dream. Each contestant is entitled to opportunity, a basic set of means by which they are to compete amongst themselves for even greater rewards based purely (innocently) on ability, quick-wit, and strategic decision making. For example, the top-winner gets to bid or pass on the first showcase. This reflects the common notion that the experienced business man must be able to pass up certain opportunities for even better opportunities later, and recognize a good deal when he sees it. Ability and quick-wit are demonstrated in the actual bidding process. One must calculate in their minds the values of all the items in the showcase, and quickly assess a total bid without going over.

This is how the American Dream is supposed to play itself out, though it has already been established that this is rarely--if ever--the case outside of Bob's legendary game show. "Come on Down!" becomes immersive not only by the simplicity of play, but by its cultural implications. Last year, when I still lived with a roommate in an apartment (as opposed to this stinky tiny residence hall that I am in now), we used to record Price is Right on the Tivo every morning. We watched it later at night, and as we did we played along, competing amongst ourselves. It was then that we jokingly decided that America should nationalize game shows as a form of granting a starting point of capital to each individual in America so that they could compete fairly amongst themselves. In other words, as a means of reviving the American Dream. It's a game that everyone understands, and the meaning is also understood, even if it can't be expressed in so many words. Everybody is fully aware of what they are celebrating, even if they claim to hate it in the routine, they long for an escape. That's the American Dream--to make it, really make it, so we don't have to live in a never ending cycle. The Price is Right provides an escape, offers immersion in a window of liminality, where we can almost see ourselves enshrined above mundane capitalism, just as the denture cleaner and Hot Pockets reside on their own beautiful pedestal.

Why Do People Love Wii(ing)?

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 11:43:00 -0600

The console wars have always created an intense rivalry amongst �fanboys� (check out Robb�s blog for more info on this term) with each side qualifying why their prized system is superior. Is any one system better than the others? No, not really. All the systems have their positives and their negatives. Factors like price, graphical capability, and game selection are just a few of the things that affect what system people choose (except for those lucky enough to have them all). At no other time do I remember a console war being as interesting as it is right now. Veteran Nintendo offers its quirky Wii as the console for everyone. Former top dog Sony has, for the moment at least, become the third party in the console war as its high price crippled its first year sales. Finally, newcomer Microsoft has had an extra year to saturate the market and remains the most owned next generation system. But I am not here to argue for one system or the other. I am here to simply take a close look at one system in particular � the Nintendo Wii and its relationship to a few key concepts from Lev Manovich�s The Language of New Media. Specifically, I will explore how the Wii complicates some of Manovich�s assertions regarding realism and interactivity. Graphically speaking the Wii is far less powerful than its competitors. The level of realism simply cannot match that of the Playstation 3 or the Xbox 360. That brings me to my first point regarding the never-ending (or is it�) quest for photorealism. As Manovich�s states on page 199: ��the achievement of photorealism is the main goal of research in the field of computer graphics.� Applied to video games, this means that new systems are always graphically better than the old ones and that the systems 5-10 years down the road will be better still. But Nintendo chose not to improve its newest system by sheer graphical horsepower, but by utilizing other interactive means (this will be a topic for later in the paper). This begs the question: in the realm of the video game, does synthetic realism even matter? And if it does, to what audience does it matter?

Based on sales alone, synthetic realism does not matter to all video gamers. The Wii continues to be nearly impossible to find, as it is perpetually sold out. But sales figures are not the point. What is unique is that people are ignoring the fact that the Wii games are simply not as pretty as the other two consoles. The Wii is bucking the trend and the more it continues to do so, the more convinced I am that synthetic realism does not matter to everyone. Video games are a way to detach from the world, if for only a few minutes and not everyone needs visually stunning worlds in order to escape. I personally enjoy characterization and storyline as opposed to visual beauty. If a game is ugly will I be less inclined to play it? Certainly, but it does not need to be the best looking game in order to interest me.

This raises another interesting point regarding audience. Though synthetic realism is not essential to me, it is to some audiences. The majority of this audience, based simply on my experiences (no numbers) would be men. In his comical satire Dave Barry�s Complete Guide to Guys (a must read for anyone by the way), Barry argues that men are gadget freaks. We love the newest and most powerful and we always want the �best.� This means the most powerful systems, hooked up to powerful high definition televisions with a deafening stereo system. In general this seems pretty accurate as every guy I know wants/has a high definition TV with his 360 or PS3 hooked up to it.

I am not sure why men are more inherently drawn to powerful gadgets (and, by default it seems) more powerful gaming systems. Upon talking to a few women I learned that they do not care about how games look, just whether or not the game is fun. When I asked them what system they would want most they all immediately said the Wii. �The Wii is just so simple and fun and it looks good enough for me,� one girl said. Check in on any serious male gamer and you will find that he is often frustrated or stressed by the game he is playing (just sit in on people playing Halo 3 and listen for all the cursing). You will be hard pressed to find women gamers with the same levels of stress. There are several possible explanations for this, with most of them centering on marketing and the games that are made for women/girls (Barbie games, Cooking Mama, etc.). and how their games are by default less complicated and more �mini-game� games. Some have said that more complex games feel like work and that some may even be too complicated for them.

Another interesting aspect of the Wii that forces us to question whether or not synthetic realism is important is the Virtual Console. The Virtual Console (VC), as most of you probably know, allows people to connect wirelessly to the Internet and purchase old games (from systems like NES, SNES, N64, Sega Genesis, NEO-GEO) to be downloaded directly into their console. These games are all at least ten years old, but why then are gamers purchasing some of them in droves? Part of it is surely nostalgia � I myself had to buy Altered Beast formerly of the Sega Genesis because it is the first game I remember playing. My girlfriend loves playing Sonic the Hedgehog on the VC. As new systems still strive for synthetic realism, the VC allows users to replay games from the good old days of gaming where things were much simpler.

Now onto immersion and illusion. As Manovich writes, �The user invests in the illusion precisely because she is given control over it.� (p. 209). While this is the case with all video games, it seems that the Wii may give this quote some added meaning. Obviously the most unique facet of the Wii is the motion sensing controls used by the system. This level of interactivity � actually swinging your arms and moving the cursor to affect where you shoot/hit /etc. has got industry pundits wondering if other forms of control like this are the wave of the future. The Wii is able to actively immerse the audience by giving them direct control over their characters movements and actions. The other systems present a different immersion by using visual and aural means in an attempt to get the player to disappear into that world. Is either way better than the other? No, it all comes down to a matter of opinion.

The Wii is not without it�s detractors. Some argue that swinging a remote around is only interesting for the first few minutes, then gets tiresome quickly (Wii Sports boxing gets you tired literally). Others argue the motion sensing doesn�t work properly enough and that the PS3 can do something similar with its SIXAXIS controller. But developers have been seeking ways to get their audience more immersed in their gaming worlds, and this new form of control may be the way to do it. Though graphical upgrades will always be the main focus of new systems, new ways of immersing the user into the game world are being thought about and this can only mean good things for the gaming industry, which has gotten a little stale as of late (read Chris� �I Don�t Get Your Genre�� blogs for more info).

With the Wii continuing to garner worldwide appeal, important questions are being raised about the future of gaming. Will we ever stop searching for that synthetic realism in our games? Will new controller systems be a major factor in the next generation of systems? The future is uncertain, but the Wii has revolutionized the way games are thought about and may be a catalyst for a change in the way games are made for years to come.OK, since I can't seem to figure out how to embed links or even put them on at all I will provide them here at the bottom and you will have to copy and paste them. Sorry I am not technologically capable! Also, I would provide my own videos but their quality was so poor that it is not even worth it (plus they are really rather boring).

The Standards ad showcasing the Wii as a console for everyone: http://youtube.com/watch?v=p5cPVP_llfo

A humorous ad for the Wii against the PS3: http://youtube.com/watch?v=MFoyp71xw3w

An Edited version of IGN.com's Metroid Prime 3: Corruption review: http://youtube.com/watch?v=jtxMOf1cAow

Finally, a trailer for the greatly anticipated Super Smash Bros. Brawl due out next year: http://youtube.com/watch?v=akKGaOIQ7Tc&feature=related

Machinima: Digital Moviemaking for the Masses

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 10:50:00 -0600

So here is my ENG 486 final essay that deals with moviemaking via 3D game engines--machinima and how movies and videogames are becoming more and more intertwined as videogames become useful tools in consumer-produced media. This kind of goes along with Robb's recent post, but mine also talks about the creation of my own machinima movie (I'm sorry of you read this essay and wish you could see my movie, I'm having problems uploading it to the internet right now, so I'm unable to do so). I've split it up into two parts, the first being the more analytical section and the second being more for describing how I made my machinima movie (which was written for the fact that it'll be read by the professor) but it still has some videogame analysis in it. So I set it up that the "scholarly" section is separate from my personal account description. This essay isn't as in-depth and analytical as I would like it to be, but I think that it does a decent job of bringing up the questions raised by machinima for audience consideration. So with that, enjoy! Introduction to an Idea: For as long as I can remember I�ve always loved movies and been interested in studying them and in high school I even enjoyed dabbling in some moviemaking. So, after reading some of Lev Manovich�s book, "The Language of New Media," I jumped at the chance to rekindle my interest in filmmaking and combine it with my love of videogames, and in particular my love for The Sims 2 for my project. Manovich raises some interesting ideas in his book about the blurring line between cinema and videogames but his book is rather outdated in that he seems to fail to recognize the way in which videogames, but in particular computer games (mostly Role Playing and Simulation games) are being utilized by today�s players to make their own movies. Manovich likely doesn�t address this growing phenomenon because it wasn�t very widespread in the late 1990�s (there were the Quake movies beginning in 1996 but they weren�t very widespread, at least not as much as now). It really wasn�t until The Sims came out in 2000 that user storytelling via the game began to become popular and available. Today, with many games (like The Sims 2, World of Warcraft, and Halo) including in-game screen or motion capture tools and with websites like YouTube where almost anyone can show their work to the world, machinima�that is utilizing computer generated images from 3D game engines in creating a movie�has become extremely popular. In this essay I will explore the idea of digital moviemaking and how it relates to videogames and also explain how I, myself created a machinima film and many of the ups and downs of that experience. I will also attempt to address the question of whether or not digital moviemaking is greater than traditional filmmaking. However, the purpose of this essay isn�t to be an in-depth analysis of Manovich or digital cinema as much as it is an attempt to bring up, for audience consideration, the ideas themselves. Part I: The Means to an End For Manovich, it seems that greatest potential thing about digital cinema would be �interactivity� and for the most part this would be true. However, Manovich�s idea of �interactivity� seems to be centered mostly on a sort of gameplay-like experience with cinema which has yet to materialize (except for DVD bonus features) rather than utilizing computers to generate digital movements that can later be edited together to form a movie. In fact, in respect to animation (which CGI technically is), Manovich calls it, �Cinema�s bastard relative, its supplement and shadow,� which is a rather unfair and unwise thing to say since CGI animation is becoming ever more popular, especially since machinima is becoming much more popular way for average people to make movies (298). He seems to think that once anything digital is applied to filmmaking it has become tainted unless this �digitality� is carefully hidden (like minor CGI enhancements to the setting, painting out support wires, or even some CGI extras), and thus, ��traditional cinematic language is preserved unchanged� (309). This would seem to contradict the �progressive� nature of digital cinema and the idea that new is better, which many would argue to be fact. Manovich�s feelings towards digital cinema contradict with some of my own feelings and so I decided to make a movie that combined �Classic Cinema� with digital technology and I wanted to utilize my love of videogames as well, so I decided to make a machinima film for my project. I�d actually never heard of the term, �machinima� before taking ENG 486, but I had watched some videogame produced films (The Strangerhood, Red vs. Blue, etc.) and was always fascinated by what could be accomplished in them. Manovich again, really is only able to see (probably because his book is somewhat dated) videogames in terms of the company-made �cinematic cutaways� that are popular in most videogames. So, I wanted to show how videogames can be used to actually make movies and, despite their inherent limitations as videogames, how they may be superior tools for moviemaking for most consumers. Obviously one would need a computer, digital editing software, probably the internet, the right kinds of game(s), and probably a DVD player (if one wanted to capture elements from other films) in order to make machinima, which would tend to limit the community of machinima makers to certain economic groups. But still, as more and more advanced technology is produced, the prices and these sorts of tools for machinima are reduced and thus become more widely available to the masses. Videogames are becoming more and more popular tools in moviemaking as is evidenced by the growing number of machinima movies (and I use the term �movie� rather broadly) on sites like YouTube or on private sites like RoosterTeeth.com (the group of machinima makers responsible for The Strangerhood and Red vs. Blue). So, with this evolution in mass-produced moviemaking via 3D game engines, the role of traditional cinema and traditional filmmaking must be rethought. The role of videogames should also be rethought as they become more and more focused on cinematic quality and become more and more advanced in their motion capture ability. One must also take into account the role of digital editing software as well as internet video-sharing sites and how important they are to consumer-produced movies. This truly is a time of evolving media technology and with it must come evolving definitions of media and media creators. Part II: Hard Times and Happy Days, a Machinimatic Odyssey In high school my friends and I had a great deal of fun making short films using a camcorder and digital editing software on the computer. So, when I made my experiment in machinima using The Sims 2 as my set, I was initially skeptical about how useful it could be. I have played the game for many years but this was my first time using its moviemaking tools and I found them rather fun to use but at times rather a pain as well. The best part of using a videogame to make a movie is probably being able to create a movie from the comfort of one�s desk and being able to create one�s own actors and setting limited only by one�s imagination�and the inherent limitations of the game itself. Even though it is revolutionary to the gaming world in some respects, The Sims 2 still has some very large limitations when it comes to moviemaking. Like most games, the characters are limited in the actions and motions they can perform (like sims being unable to walk and talk at the same time or talk while holding something) and in the case of The Sims 2, hacks are required in order to make characters actions easier to capture. Hacks are basically required in order to make one�s character�s perform certain actions or motions at the right moment, thus the moviemaker must control every facet of their actors� movements, the actor�s cannot do it themselves as real ones could. That is, even though one can tell their sims to do something, in order to do it and keep the camera focused, there must always be a hacked object in the shot where the moviemaker can easily click on it and choose from the list of animations what they want their sim to do (the one I used is a picture of a lady in front of a city�for standing actions, and a painting of a table and chairs�for sitting actions). And still, it is easier to just pause the game, select a string of actions and then just film the sims performing those actions separately rather than shooting two or more sims attempting to interact with each other (which is itself limited in animations if one just allows for sims to interact normally, or tends to look wrong if sims are �interacting� through a string of different, hand-picked animations�in this case timing is key), just another limitation that can cause headaches. I also found it necessary to use tons of custom content (not just for moviemaking but also just for playing the game) in order to enhance my setting and characters in order to give my movie the right mood. The world of The Sims 2 can be full of wondrous things if one takes the time to scour the internet for custom content, but still one can create a movie that takes place in a huge gothic mansion with a �realistic� werewolf based on their own design which they would likely not have the resources to do in the real world. Thus, one has much more flexibility, in some respects, in making movies via such games as The Sims 2 than traditional means in the real world. All in all, using The Sims 2 was an extremely interesting way to make a movie and I have mixed feelings about it but for those with limited resources but lots of time (on the set construction, filming, and editing I spent some 20 hours for just a short, 12 minute movie that was somewhat hastily put together), it is an extremely fun way to express their imagination and artistic talents in a digital setting. The editing process, itself was another obstacle in and of itself for even though I had used computer editing software before, each program takes some getting used to. But of course the biggest trial was putting the shots together in a way that reflected the original film and also be more dynamic and �artistic.� Attempting to line up shots of character movements and expressions with lines of dialogue was the most difficult part of the editing process by far, but in the end I think it turned out well considering this was my very first attempt at doing something like this (however lip-synching is virtually impossible with The Sims 2 and probably most other games). I�ve been calling my project a �movie� for some time now and it is, in a way but really it�s just two soundtracks from two pieces of �Classic Cinema� that I�ve ripped and attempted to link my game captures with. I decided to recreate scenes from the two �classic� films, Citizen Kane (1941) and Gone With The Wind (1939) because they reflect �classic� techniques that were mostly revolutionary in their own time (particularly Citizen Kane) and because they are two of my favorite films. For the first film, I used the �Breakfasts with Emily� scene which is a short montage that depicts Charles Foster Kane�s life with his first wife, Emily through their breakfast table encounters. I picked this scene mainly because it was the easiest scene in the whole film to recreate, being made up mostly of short, still-camera shots of the characters. Because this scene was shorter and in order to keep with my original idea of recreating the classic in the revolutionary, I tried to edit my shots in the same way that the original film did. I also wanted to capture the look the original had so I created Charles Foster Kane and Emily sims to be my �actors� and then attempted to recreate the breakfast room (which I changed into a dining room) and give my �actors� wardrobe similar to what was worn in the original scene. For the second film, I chose the last few scenes that lead up to the film�s ending because it is one of my favorite cinematic endings and because one of the scenes includes the infamous, �Frankly my dear, I don�t give a damn!� line. This sequence of scenes was much longer than the Kane scene and full of movement and thus much harder to put together, and because of this I wanted to have a little more fun with it. So, for these scenes I decided to interweave not only old and new media but also Victorian gothic and �neo-gothic� imagery and just take some artistic license with the way I dressed the set, my �actors� and the way shots were set up. For this I recreated the Butlers� southern mansion hall and bedroom (which already looked kind of gothic)(as well as the front of the Wilkes�s house, the street down to the Butlers�, and the front fa�ade of the O�Hara family mansion, Tara) and redressed them with objects like facemasks, suits of armor, odd portraits and sculptures, candles, and �funerary� flowers. I also dressed the Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh sims that I downloaded in �neo-gothic� fashion; Rhett Butler became a sort of mad scientist with shiny translucent skin, a robotic arm and longer, blood-red hair�oh and he has face makeup on, but retains his mustache. Scarlett O�Hara became a sort of ghostly, zombie-skinned lady with a cloud of smoke always following her and a strange headdress (which is actually a recolor of a mesh that someone made of Edea�s, a main villain from Final Fantasy VIII, headdress thing). And that basically describes my experiment and most of the major work that it entailed; so, is machinima and digital moviemaking superior to live-action filmmaking? I think it depends on the moviemaker and their preferences, both forms have equal qualities of good and bad�a truly shocking conclusion (LOL)!

The Uncharted Mass Effect: The Cinematic Game

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 03:50:00 -0600

As one of my projects for this site, I really wanted to look at the idea of cinematic games. Next-generation consoles are finally starting to show what they are really capable of, and two recent blockbuster titles are fabulous examples of the Hollywood blockbuster aesthetic coming in full force to the world of videogames. I am, of course, referring to Uncharted: Drake's Fortune and Mass Effect. The former is a contemporary action/adventure title in style of Indiana Jones and Tomb Raider, while the latter is a futuristic sci-fi shooter/role-playing game. Yes, they are quite a bit different from one another, but they are also both very similar in the ways the language of cinema informs their presentation. Read on... spoilers ahead... What does it mean for a game to be cinematic? It means that it must achieve synthetic realism in the presentation of its images, it must present a linear, interactive narrative, and it must combine the two seamlessly in the context of interactive play that drives the production of images and narrative.

Part 1: Synthetic Realism

Manovich states in his book, The Language of New Media, that "achieving synthetic realism means attaining two goals--the simulation of the codes of traditional cinematography and the simulation of the perceptual properties of real life objects and environments." The first goal refers to the simulation of "variable length lens, depth of field effects, motion blur, and controllable lights that simulate the lights available to a traditional cinematographer." The second goal consists of "the representation of an object's shape, the effects of light on its surface, and the pattern of movement." He is mostly concerned with applying these criteria to 3D animation in film, but we have now reached a point where these elements are common place in next-gen gaming technology. Uncharted and Mass Effect both use all of these elements to inform their presentation, and Mass Effect even goes so far into the language of cinema that it includes a filter to simulate film grain on the images the game engine produces.

The fact that this film grain filter exists is fascinating to me. Out of all of the elements Manovich mentions in his study of synthetic realism, film grain is one that he does not mention. I put forward that this is because, out of all of the elements of cinematic language, film grain is not an element of realism; rather, it highlights the apparatus of the celluloid aspects of film technology and is a purely stylistic decision in film authorship. It says to the viewer, "this is a film."

Mass Effect without grain

Mass Effect with grain and vignette filter

What does it mean, then, when a game developers includes a film grain filter that says "this is a film" but allows you to turn it off? It really says, "this is a film if you want it to be, but it can also be a game if that's what you're after." The film grain is turned on by default, which means that the developers really want you to appreciate the hard work they put into the games cinematic qualities, but ultimately it is up to the user how they play the game. The game can, after all, be an exercise in run-and-gun if the user chooses to hurry through the story and character development aspects of the game and skim over the role-playing aspects. But the developers did not emphasize the action in this game, there are far more well-developed shooters available on the market, they emphasized the narrative and cinematic aspects, and their choice of default setting for film grain shows that they feel the strengths of the game--and the best experience of playing the game--will be best realized if the user chooses to approach the game as a film.

Uncharted takes a very different approach. It is first and foremost a game concerned with synthetic realism in its presentation. Massive attention is given to minute details: the blades of grass bend as the player moves through them, the cloth of the player's shirt wrinkles and shifts as he moves, and the clothes become convincingly wet when they come in contact with water. Cinematic style is mostly employed to drive the games narrative sequences, and it is employed very well, and the playable portions of the game are solely concerned with driving the game as a third-person shooter.

There is initially only one presentation option, but more presentation options are unlocked as the game progresses. After the player completes certain goals within the game, i.e. getting a certain number of kills with a weapon, certain number of headshots, and finding a certain number of hidden treasures, the options to display the game in sepia, slow-motion, and even replace the main character model with other characters from the game (pirate, mercenary, etc) become available. These options are included to allow players to play with the presentation itself as an afterthought to playing the game. In this way the game not only allows players to play the game itself, but to play with cinematic language in the game.

For example, from the screenshot above, a film scholar might be inclined to discuss issues of race and representation, and they would not be wrong to do so. The main characters of the game are caucasian, and the bad guys, at least initially, are all members of ethnic minorities (although the narrative later reveals an evil mastermind who is also caucasian). However, if a player feels so inclined, he can replace the white main character with the model of another ethnicity and reclaim to some extent representation and meaning in the game's narrative.

Part 2: Database Narratives

One of Manovich's key points when discussing new media is that it often takes the form of a database. "Often the narrative shell of a game," writes Manovich, "masks a simple algorithm well-familiar to the player--kill all the enemies on the current level, while collecting all the treasures it contains; go to the next level and so on until you reach the last level." It almost seems like Manovich was writing specifically about Uncharted, when actually the degree to which this statement applies to Uncharted is really indicative of how broadly it applies to videogames in general.

The cinematic features of Uncharted serve one simple purpose: to conceal its true nature as data and algorithm. In other words, the linear narrative of Uncharted exists within a database, but it is not a database. It has one trajectory, one beginning, one middle, and one ending. All of the things the player may or may not do along the way are accounted for within a database, and the sole existence of that database is to ensure a seamless, linear experience that conceals the data structures and algorithms of the game. The game developers want the audience to experience the game as a Hollywood blockbuster, unbridled action and entertainment from beginning to end with no distractions from the apparatus.

Mass Effect is very different from Uncharted in this respect. It does have a main, linear narrative that can be experience from beginning to end without interruption with lots of action and entertainment provided both in the gameplay and through cinematic cut-scenes, which is very much in the blockbuster spirit, like Uncharted. It deviates, however, by emphasizing the option of experiencing the narrative as non-linear interactive narrative.

Mass Effect offers a large amount of side quests and a degree of control over the narrative itself through interactive dialog options. In the main quest, these dialog options have very little effect over the course of the main blockbuster narrative (which features only two somewhat similar endings). In the side quests, however, the players options can greatly effect the resolution. In this way, Mass Effect employs its database nature to great effect within the narrative itself. The game accounts for the different non-player characters that might be accompanying you, and provides event-specific dialog from those characters. The game also allows the player to go anywhere, and perform any side quest at any time, affording a certain degree of non-linearity to its narrative options.

We can then say that, depending on how the user chooses to play the game, it is either concealing its data structures and algorithms, or emphasizing it. If the user turns off all customization options for the character he or she is playing, chooses the default character, and plays through the main storyline with the main characters without exploring the rest of the game, one will have a very similar experience to Uncharted where the apparatus is completely concealed from the player in lieu of a seamless, highly entertaining blockbuster narrative. Alternatively, the user can create a customized character of either gender, choose from an assortment of non-player characters to accompany them on the quests and enjoy an non-linear, interactive narrative that relies heavily on the apparent apparatus of database to account for the various options and outcomes available to the player.

Conclusion

From these two games, it is apparent that cinematic technique in games has reached new heights. Whether used to conceal or reveal the apparatus of the game, these techniques are indisputably bringing mainstream Hollywood-style narrative fiction to the world of interactive entertainment.

The blockbuster game has always been a staple of videogaming, however, blockbuster games have never looked so much like blockbuster movies. The two games discussed here are arguably not that different--in terms of gameplay--from games that preceded them. Specifically, Mass Effect is an iteration of Knights of the Old Republic and the RPG genre in general, and Uncharted is very referential to games such as Tomb Raider and Ico. The main element that distinguishes them from games of these types if a sophisticated cinematic presentation.

Does this cinematic presentation makes these games more fun? If it can be said that these games are very similar to other, earlier games, and that these games are also better than earlier games, then cinematic presentation is really the only factor that allows for a better game experience. If Uncharted effectively conceals the apparatus through presentation and narrative, does it then follow that we are able to immerse more completely in the game and enjoy it more fully in the moment? If Mass Effect calls attention to its film qualities while simultaneously emphasizing its database nature, does it then follow that we can appreciate non-linear narrative more if we are provided the illusion of a linear apparatus?

These are all good questions, and questions that I intend to revisit in future posts.

The Infinite Art and the Eternal Gamer (Part 3)

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 03:23:00 -0600

Selections from a work in progress

Part 3 of 3

The S3 Project

A selection from the script of Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, spoken by the Colonel and Rose:

The mapping of the human genome was completed early this century. As a result, the evolutionary log of the human race lay open to us. We started with genetic engineering, and in the end, we succeeded in digitizing life itself. But there are things not covered by genetic information. Human memories, ideas. Culture. History. Genes don't contain any record of human history. Is it something that should not be passed on? Should that information be left at the mercy of nature? We've always kept records of our lives. Through words, pictures, symbols... from tablets to books... But not all the information was inherited by later generations. A small percentage of the whole was selected and processed, then passed on. Not unlike genes, really. That's what history is, Jack. But in the current, digitized world, trivial information is accumulating every second, preserved in all its triteness. Never fading, always accessible. Rumors about petty issues, misinterpretations, slander... All this junk data preserved in an unfiltered state, growing at an alarming rate. It will only slow down social progress, reduce the rate of evolution.

And then� later, a pleasant reminder:

Colonel: Raiden, turn the game console off right now!

Raiden: What did you say?

Colonel: The mission is a failure! Cut the power right now!

Raiden: What's wrong with you?

Rose: Don't worry, it's a game! It's a game just like usual. You'll ruin your eyes playing so close to the TV.

I have personally experienced the metamorphosis from immersive play in Super Mario Bros. to the immersive pastiche of Hideo Kojima�s masterpiece, Metal Gear Solid 2. I, like so many fans of the Metal Gear series, was sorely disappointed when Jack (Raiden) reared his face, fresh from his skull suit, instead of Dave (Solid Snake). However, something unusual happened towards the end of the game. Kojima managed to show me that I really was Raiden, and in so doing he broke the absolute laws of videogame immersion. He pulled back the curtains and revealed the apparatus of the game. It was then, for the first time, that it was clear to me: immersion is nothing new to the aesthetic experience. It is only because the apparatus of the videogame relies so heavily on the first person that immersion is revealed as a separate component of the experience of art.

Immersion is the product of the subject�s relationship to the apparatus, as opposed to the subject�s direct relationship to the art object. It has often been described as the full engagement of the senses, that which is responsible the distortion of time and space in which we become a part of an object (or so it would certainly seem to an immersed subject). The spectator of movies is surprised that it�s dark outside�that so much time has passed�and their sense of direction is muddied upon emerging. The reader of literature is going to bed at six in the morning after being startled by the familiar flush of a toilet. The listener of music falls into a trance and manages to forget the headphones providing the noise. They are all immersed.

The movies, the books, and the music don�t even have to be particularly interesting or original to create immersion. They need only to be a noisy intrusion on the space of our experience in the world. The noise forces the real to the fringes of experience, and when we finally emerge it seems that reality is an intrusion upon the noise. That noise�the immersive aesthetic�is so loud that we forget about the silence of reality. It can make us wonder what we are missing in the experience as much as at what we retain. While the aesthetic experience has also been associated with the full engagement of the senses�and thus immersion�immersion itself does not always involve these other forms of aesthetic experience. Sometimes the experience of immersion occurs because of a new pair of headphones and the clarity of the tones that they provide. The headphones become a device by which we can hear something old in a new way and become immersed in it once again. The first time we were immersed, it may have been because the musical phrasing was beautiful. Hearing the song for the first time calls to us, and singles us out for something beautiful, but that song cannot duplicate the experience repeatedly. The headphones bring back the noise and the elusive experience of hearing something more than what we are used to, something that seems new and true but previously unseen. This immersive experience is very pleasurable indeed, but the new headphones cannot duplicate the experience with the song any more than the car radio could when first heard years before.

It can be said, then, that an experience of beauty provokes us to form a relationship with the apparatus of its delivery. Reading the saga of Ender Wiggin (note: Orson Scott Card speculates convincingly about the dangers of immersion and the consequences of emergence in his science fiction account of a boy, Ender, who, against his will, becomes so immersed in videogames that when the game becomes reality he is unable to tell the difference) and his own struggle with a game can bring tears to our eyes, but it also brings the pages closer to our faces. The desire to drown out the rest of the world with the words of a favorite author is difficult to resist, and the simplest method by which this is done is to bond with the apparatus. It is impossible to say that people have not assigned special importance, not simply to the words of their favorite book, but the book itself and that one specific reproduction of it� this reproduced apparatus now has significant sentimental value to the subject in the form of a relationship between them. The subject creates immersion through the bonding to the apparatus quite intentionally in order that the full engagement of the senses provoked by the aesthetic experience may be prolonged. For my hypothesis to prove true, however, it would need to be the case that the pages themselves are capable of provoking a relationship regardless of the content. While this is certainly difficult to imagine in today�s world of electric guitars and HDTV, it is easy to imagine that to the subject first introduced to writing it was quite the immersive technology. It is easy to imagine the reader�s of the first newspaper reading it over and over, marveling at nothing more than the majesty of print technology. Museums, in fact, relish in the fetishism of bonding with an apparatus, preserving valueless objects simply because they were first, or new.

There�s something else to immersion inherent in this experience. It�s fun. A necessary byproduct of immersion is play, serious or otherwise. In trying to analyze the videogame as a medium in and of itself�a medium that has devoted itself to being immersive above all else�Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty (MGS2) proves a useful focus. It is not only a game full of the immersive elements of hyperreal simulation, Real noise, and fun gameplay, but it�s also a game that provokes emergence by manipulating the player to a �Turing Event.� I am not attempting to provide an analysis of MGS2, but to use it as a case study of the videogame as a medium. That said, it is assumed that the reader has some knowledge of the game.

The Solid Snake Simulation: Attack of the Apparatus

If I am a child fascinated by the image of myself in a mirror, I am both playing with the mirror and playing in the mirror. If I move my hand, the mirror moves back. It looks like me, and it looks back at me when I look at it. I can see that it is not me, but a reflection of me. Removed from the real experience of me from within my body, I look odd and unfamiliar to myself, even though I should be more intimately familiar with myself than anybody else. The mirror is the simulation, or reality, of me, as the real me obviously does not exist in my reflection. It is the original hyperreality. Videogames function in very much the same way, albeit more abstractly so. When I move the apparatus, so too does the Snake. When I press a button, he jumps or shoots. I choose how and when, or even if, the Snake will approach and dispatch his enemies.

The actions available to me, as a Snake, are a tiny fraction of the possibilities I have to interact with myself in a mirror. The Snake has pre-defined goals and a linear narrative that I must accept. Regardless of how many options there are in completing the missions and revealing the story, it is still miniscule compared to the infinite and non-linear narratives of play possible in a mirror. And yet, for some reason, I stopped playing in the mirror as I grew older. As with any aesthetic experience, the mirror could not continually reproduce in me the same feelings. The mirror as an apparatus ceased to reinvent itself with new noise to continue provoke immersion. In other words, at some point I began to comprehend that which I apprehended in the mirror. The reflection ceased to be a wonder and became nothing more than a fact. The full engagement of the senses as part of the aesthetic experience relies on being unable to comprehend what is apprehended. Serious play, and immersion, is achieved through the media of old by way of the effort to comprehend the incomprehensible.

The immersive aesthetic in high technology ensures full engagement of the senses through clever manipulation of the apparatus by the author. Videogames manage to ensure full engagement of the senses by consistently reinventing the apparatus and the way it is used. The difference between Metal Gear Solid (MGS) and MGS2 provide an excellent perspective through which to observe this, for not only are they different games with different gameplay, but the apparatus itself changed between the first and the second installments of the series.

MGS was released for the PlayStation, which compared to the PlayStation 2 had limited capabilities. The game was restricted to an overhead perspective, and environment simulation was lacking. MGS2 introduced a first-person perspective, and along with it the ability to solve gameplay puzzles from a greater variety of approaches. For example, the first-person mode allows the player to hold up enemies at close-range, and threaten them with weapons. Hold a gun to their head, and enemies of weaker morale will shake with fright while the bolder one�s taunt the player to �go ahead and shoot.� Hold a rocket launcher to their crotch, and the enemy will actually urinate in their pants from acute fear. The first-person mode also complimented the fully-interactive environment made possible by the more powerful PlayStation 2. Instead of having environment components like toilets, beds, and pop cans simply exist as props the player could make them a part of puzzle solutions. For example, an enemy standing near a bar could be distracted if the player were to shoot a bottle on the counter with a silenced pistol, allowing the opportunity to sneak by unnoticed.

These gameplay differences demonstrate the ways in which changes to the apparatus directly impact the immersive experience for the player. Making a series of games based on the same gameplay will eventually cease to provoke immersion as the gameplay is fully comprehended by the player. Full comprehension results in the loss of full-engagement of the senses, and what was formerly play with the aim of comprehension becomes rote repetition. Nothing, however, can demonstrate this point better than the most powerful component of the videogame apparatus: the controller.

The change between the DualShock controller on the PlayStation, and the DualShock 2 on the PlayStation 2 is a significant one. At first glance, the DualShock and the DualShock 2 look identical. The crucial difference, however, is the fact that every button on the DualShock 2 is fully analog, meaning, pressure sensitive. This also leads to significant gamplay changes in Metal Gear Solid 2. For example, pressing the button to fire your weapon, as long as it is not an automatic weapon, pulls the hammer of the gun as opposed to merely firing it. Releasing the button releases the hammer. If the player were to press the button to raise the gun and hold up an enemy at close range and subsequently decide not to fire the gun, the button must be released gently so as to gently replace the hammer in a non-firing position without setting off the round. The controller, then, is the part of the apparatus specifically designed to facilitate the relationship between player and the apparatus. It serves the crucial function of connecting the player with all the separate components of the apparatus: the console, the television, the sound system. The game authos is able to use the technical functions of the new apparatus to strengthen the bond between the player and the content. Having precise control of the avatar based on precise movement of the player further blurs the lines between the player and the avatar.

With the great power the apparatus of new media over the player comes the ability to inflict great harm. The length of many videogames is most easily identifiable aspect of this phenomenon. Film, as an immersive medium, typically has a duration of 90 to 120 minutes. Furthermore, the linear narrative structure of Hollywood cinema is such that emergence is integrated into cinematic formulas with a climax and resolution. Videogames, for the most part, have no set duration. A game like MGS2 can take anywhere from 4 to 20 hours to complete, through the typical duration is about 10-12 hours for the first-time player. The possibility of failure combined with the need to solve specific gameplay puzzles, with a broad range of possible solutions, creates non-linear deviations in what is otherwise largely the linear narrative structure of a videogame. The player can then become so immersed in the videogame experience that emergence is difficult. Furthermore, the lack of built-in devices for emergence in a specifically controlled linear sequence can postpone emergence until harm is inflicted on the player by the apparatus. The intense audio-visual-tactile stimulation inflicted on the player can only go on for so long before the body demands emergence in the form of a headache or sore eyes. While perhaps not as fulfilling as the sublime experience of emergence through a �Turing Event� this definitely meets the requirement of simulated experience transmuting into �real life� experience proposed by my earlier definition of emergence.

It is, then, through the form of deep immersion that players can experience the ecstacy of loss. MGS2 is genuinely a Solid Snake Simulation, in which Hideo Kojima tries to shape the player into Solid Snake and blur the line between player, apparatus, and auteur during immersion.

Colonel: Your role (slip) - that is, your mission - is to infiltrate the structure and disarm the terrorists--

Raiden: My role? Why do you keep saying that?

Colonel: (goes on the offensive) Why not? This is a type of role playing game. The point is that you play out your part and I expect you to turn in a perfect performance!

�

Solidus: It came as a complete surprise when Ocelot discovered the S3 data from GW. Not a bad idea though - using fire to fight fire, creating the perfect assassin to retire Solid Snake�s brother.

Solidus: S3 stands for Solid Snake Simulation... it�s a development program to artificially reproduce Solid Snake, the perfect warrior. The result is a FOXHOUND commando when FOXHOUND no longer exists, a simulated Solid Snake shaped by VR regimen. Sound like someone you know - Jack?

The apparatus, in the case of MGS2 and Hideo Kojima, can indeed become a Solid Snake Simulation in which the player experiences the loss of identity and the evidence is the pain of that loss.

Hyperreal Society and Pastiche Culture in Immersive Play

Colonel: Raiden, there are also reasons behind your selection. Solidus raised plenty of other child soldiers. Do you know why we chose you over them?

Raiden: ?

Colonel: It was because you were the only one who refused to acknowledge the past. All the others remember what they were, and pay for it daily.

The introduction to MGS2 includes one of the most memorable pop culture references of my generation. Solid Snake lands on the deck of the Tanker�his body coiled in a half-kneeling crouch ready for action. Shards of electrical current pulse around his body as he rises to look around the battleground: trouble is coming, and Solid Snake will take on all-comers. How do we know? Because he is the Terminator, the shot is lifted directly from James Cameron�s 1991 masterpiece. The shot effectively sets all expectations for Kojima�s target audience; generally speaking, MGS2 players have probably seen T2 at least once. Solid Snake is an unstoppable commando, and he will annihilate anybody who gets in his way.

It doesn�t hurt that Solid Snake is named after one of Kojima�s favorite film characters, Snake Plissken. Plissken is another memorable pop culture character, a hardened bad-ass (who�s not a bad guy) who just wants to be left alone, and isn�t afraid to kill people who prevent his self-inflicted isolation. Fortunately, the moral dilemma of virtual murder is removed for fans of the Metal Gear Trilogy, because of the power of choice. This is, after all, what the first game in the trilogy was all about.

Snake is a clone, one of Les Enfants Terrible, who was born with the sole purpose of killing, and he is damned good at it. But he has the power of choice, he can choose what to use his innate abilities for. It is interesting then, that Raiden does not. He is unfamiliar with the past, a product of VR training, the perfect soldier to be used and exploited by those with power over him, and this is exactly the point of the second game. The truth of the game is that the player has no agency, or rather, while players inherently command the agency of choice over how the game is played, they do not have the power of choice regarding the game�s narrative.

Is this Kojima�s private joke, or something more? One of Baudrillard�s central arguments about America as a hyperreal space relies upon our lack of history, and therefore the appearance of hyperreality where our history is simulated. Kojima�s narratives are similar: he is the master of conspiracy theories. He takes an event in the past, for example, the Cold War, at examines what is commonly known about it. He finds weak points, holes in the historical narratives, and fills them with his own, reshaping the past as we know it.

This concludes the selected excerpts of this work in progress for the time being. Stay tuned for more.

The Infinite Art and the Eternal Gamer (Part 2)

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 02:24:00 -0600

Selections from a work in progress

Part 2 of 3

Random Acts of Emergence

It may first be helpful to look at some examples of emergence that occur within certain players when the author is not specifically attempting to create a game environment conducive to emergence. More specifically, these are instances where the videogame experience seems to provide the illusion of gaining real experience and the player emerges with a new understanding of Self (and by extension, the Other). In this section, I will be drawing upon research I did for a paper on the role of historically-based narratives of patriotism in videogames in shaping the American understanding of historical events and their importance. I will recall one specific example, in which a player recounts an experience playing Call of Duty: United Offensive. From this story it is easy to identify what the player was feeling, the levels of excitement, and the degree of immersion which must have inspired such a lengthy account of any given game session. We can also see in this story themes of honor, duty, and sacrifice.

it was BA at ponyri, and the game was tied. The krauts only bunker that was intact was 1, with the 88 and the train station and watch tower around it. They were defending the entire area to the death, and we couldnt crack their "shell"

It is worthwhile to notice the adoption of the racial slur �kraut� popularized during WWII. We can already see a shifting tendency of the author not to define the Self in terms of his �real� self, but rather he is assuming a new identity: his game Self. The Other has become the game�s enemy. He continues:

i tried being a sniper and making my way up into the train station, but every time i went in there, about 4 or 5 krauts were holed up waiting for us. They were also picking us off from the windows. Basically, we were unorganized and the game wasnt going anywhere. The 88 guy was tearing apart our tanks, and it was a seesaw tank and sniper battle back and forth.

I realized that we had to take control of the train station to win. I looked for guys that would follow my plan to take over the train station, and surprisingly, almost all of my comrades did. All at once we led a huge attack on the train station with tanks, snipers, rifleman and most of all PPsh guys. The tanks blew out the snipers in the windows, we all tossed or smoke and frag grenades, and the guys with the ppsh's charged in and took out the rest of them . The teamwork was UNBELIEVABLE! I, with a PPsh and full artillery lead to the next step of the assault. We took over the watch tower with ease, and we had snipers in all of the train station and watch tower windows. They took care of anyone who tried to get on the Flak 88. About 2 or 3 of us barraged the main base with artillery, taking out a good number of infantry. Then, the main part took place. ALL of our tanks, about 8 or 9, surrounded the kraut bunker...and this is the best part...

It is undeniable that the gameplay experience for this player has been fun so far, but it can get better. The �best part� is the experience of emergence, the ecstasy of loss of his identity as a player outside of simulated reality:

An equal force of 8 or 9 kraut tanks came rolling down the bridge on the left, followed by the entire german team, about 16 people, and we went into action. The feeling you get when you see 8 tanks coming to kill you isnt very good. The greatest tank battle i have ever seen took place at that moment.from behind me, our entire tank force moved in on the bridge. It was so loud and there was so much smoke that it seemed like i was actually on a real battlefield.Shells were flying back and forth nonstop, and bazooka and shrek rockets were whooshing past my head.I ran back to the bunker,and While that huge battle took place, me and a group of infantry made our move. We stormed the bunker and planted the explosives. While the great tank battle raged on, some of their infantry leaked through the wall of smoke and dead bodies, but we took care of them with our rifles and autos. I popped my head out, and bombarded the bridge with artillery, which gave us the upper hand in the great battle. Our infantry took up positions inside the base. However, the germans managed to have a huge counterattack and win the tank battle! it was a HUGE upset. we thought we were done for! there was about 45 seconds left until explosion, and we could hear lots of krauts and tanks charging for us. About 30 seconds left, and we all BAIL OUT OF THE BUNKER and do an amazing suicide charge. I run out of the bunker, regardless of the many enemies around me, and jump down the hill as fast as i can. At the same time i jumped into a crowd of germans, the bunker exploded, and we had finally won.

In this hurried explanation, it is clear that the player has translated the simulated experience into the equivalence of real experience. It is particularly worthwhile to note the section �the feeling you get when you see 8 tanks coming to kill you isn�t very good � it seemed like I was actually on a real battlefield.� The experience of playing this videogame created the illusion of reality, and the illusion of understanding what it was like to actually fight the German army. The statement �it seemed like I was actually on a real battlefield� is clearly our most positive evidence that the experience provided the illusion of real experience. His identity as a player was lost to him at this moment, he assumed the identity of a real soldier on a real battlefield. It is interesting to note how this player describes his experience in a way that the pleasure of the experience is unmistakable:

everyone said it was my doing, because i had come up with the plan, and i got many congratulations.

By far the best game i have EVER played on Call of Duty multiplayer, and probably the best game i will ever play.

Part of the reason I elected to use the whole story, unedited for grammar and punctuation, is because the way the story evokes a sense of excitement, being written during the torrent of pleasure that immediately follows an aesthetic experience. The author seems to be rushing to write the whole story before the effect wears off. The topic of his story is the immersion he achieved while playing the game, and while it was no means total immersion, the act of writing the story was one of emergence: a form of the �Turing Event.� Writing the story provided the �point where simulated life is undifferentiated from real life� and his simulated experience was translated into a real experience with real value in his real life. He found a new emergent Self as a soldier despite its nature as a product of immersion in simulation.

It is clear in this example, then, the role of the player in creating the experience of emergence in this gameplay experience. But what of the role of the apparatus? He says, �shells were flying back and forth nonstop, and bazooka and rockets were whooshing past my head.[as] I ran back to the bunker.� Note that he does not say �the graphical representation of shells flying back and forth, and the speakers producing rocket noises whooshing past my head, provided an amazing degree of verisimilitude.� It becomes clear here that the player does not need to be tricked into a �Turing Event� by way of total immersion, that is, perfect verisimilitude. The experience of emergence can alter a player�s perception of events after they occur. It is unlikely that the player truly believe rockets were whooshing past his head while playing the game, or surely he would have run screaming from his computer. Rather, the post-immersion experience of emergence, when a new identity is assumed and incorporated into the Self, caused the translation of simulated experience into real experience to occur. It is, at this point, that the apparatus is assigned mystical powers beyond what it is actually capable of by becoming a part of the player�almost another sensory organ by means of which the player gains real experience�and it assumes a role of critical importance in the overall experience of the videogame.

This interpretation of the experience of emergence during gameplay is also emphasized by Jane McGonigal�s study--which she presented as the 2003 Melbourne DAC--of the Cloudmakers (�This is not a Game�: Immersive Aesthetics and Collective Play.). She introduces the group and the game:

The Cloudmakers group was founded on April 11, 2001 by a 24-year-old, Oregon-based computer programmer named Cabel Sasser1, one of thousands of movie fans who had started to notice a series of digitally distributed clues and narratives that seemed to be some kind of game, but one without clear rules, objectives or rewards. Sasser and others first discovered the game when they spotted a provocative credit (�Jeanine Salla, Sentient Machine Therapist�) in a trailer for Steven Spielberg�s 2001 film Artificial Intelligence: A.I. Salla�s name, when �Googled�, revealed a complex network of Web sites, many dealing with the technical, social and philosophical problems of artificial intelligence and sentient machines, and all of which were set in year 2142 A.D.

48 hours after Sasser launched the Cloudmakers, there were 153 new members in the group investigating these mysterious sites. When the game ended on July 24, 2001, the Cloudmakers group had grown to 7480 members who had scribed a total of 42,209 messages. The Beast�s producers (Microsoft and DreamWorks) now estimate that more than one million people from around the world played the game, many of whom formed large online groups. The Cloudmakers, however, were the most organized and high-profile collective, working literally around the clock; some players complained of losing not just sleep, but also jobs and friendships. The Cloudmakers provided new players and other online collectives with important tools for grappling with the game�s complex narrative � it eventually evolved into three core mysteries and a dozen rich subplots about nearly 150 characters � and for navigating the game�s vast Web presence, nearly 4000 digital texts, images, flash files and QuickTime videos in total. These tools included a 130-page walkthrough guide of the Beast, written by 18-year-old Cambridge student and Cloudmakers co-moderator Adrian Hon, and a nearly perfect online archive of ephemeral and offline game content, such as audio recordings of voice mail messages and digital photographs of clues left in public bathrooms in Chicago, New York and Los Angeles.

In the case of the Cloudmakers, emergence occurred in a fascinating way. When the game ended, McGonigal notes that many of the players refused to acknowledge that the game was over. Their group was so cohesive, and the gameplay so immersive that they were unable to accept the fact that they must emerge. For the months of April, June, and July the players had become the Second Self for so long that they could not reconcile the Second Self with the First Self. It took a very unfortunate event to provoke emergence: 9/11. �In sharp contrast to the feelings of confusion, fear, and powerlessness that seemed to overwhelm public and private discourse in America during the first 24 hours after the attacks,� McGonigal writes, �many of the Cloudmakers� (then) 7332 members began advocating a startlingly confident and organized response to the threat and mystery posed by the day�s events. Posts with subjects like �The Darkest Puzzle� and �Cloudmakers to the Rescue!� argued passionately that a game-play mindset was, for them, an appropriate and productive way to confront the stark reality of 9/11.� It is clear that the �Turing Event� was well under way, their simulated experience providing the real experience basis for thinking they could understand and even solve the problem of 9/11. ��We can solve the puzzle of who the terrorists are,� one member wrote. Another agreed: �We have the means, resources, and experience to put a picture together from a vast wealth of knowledge and personal intuition.� One Cloudmaker suggested: �Let�s become a resource. Utilize your computer & analytical talents to generate leads.� � The Cloudmakers, who proudly identified themselves in member profiles, home pages and email signatures as �a collective intelligence unparalleled in entertainment history,� were on the case � a very real case � despite the fact that their previous problem-solving experience as a group was limited solely to the virtual puzzles of a wholly fictional, massively-multiplayer Web game��

The Cloudmakers represent the very real danger of the immersive aesthetic in videogaming. I claimed earlier that 9/11 provoked emergence in Cloudmakers, but this is not evident in the quotes above. Indeed, if anything, the quotes above demonstrate merely the �Turing Event,� wherein the immersive experience, via the Second Self, becomes real. But emergence is something more: it is the reconciliation of the Second Self into the First Self, to create a new emergent Self. The dangers of the Cloudmakers� failure to do so is aptly expressed by one of its members:

You find yourself at the end of the game, waking up as if from a long sleep. Your marriage or relationship may be in tatters. Your job may be on the brink of the void, or gone completely. You may have lost a scholarship, or lost or gained too many pounds. You slowly wake up to discover that you have missed the early spring unfolding into late summer.� yet now here we are, every one of us excited at blurring the lines between story and reality. The game promises to become not just entertainment, but our lives.

The evidence of full emergence does not appear until Sept. 13, 2001. About this day, McGonigal writes:

� The five co-founders of the Cloudmakers group felt that the 9/11 game play had been taken too far. Following on the heels of a few disgruntled posts, they released an official announcement asking members to cease any attempts to �solve� 9/11. �The Cloudmakers were a �collective detective� for a *game*. Remember that,� the moderators advised. �It was scripted. There were clues hidden that were gauged for us. It was *narrative*�. This is not a game. Do not go getting delusions of grandeur. Cloudmakers solved a story. This is real life.� A flurry of concurring posts appeared. �The references to this as a �puzzle� and the thought that this group could �solve� this make me sick. Even if the people posted with good intention. This is not a game.� Another player lamented: �The game was just that --- a game. not real. therefore it didn�t really matter in the real world. It was what we did for fun. this is not fun, this is LIFE�. Everyone should have had the sense to keep out of what we don�t really understand.� With these messages, the Cloudmakers� early sense of empowerment and desire to act was lost. �Let�s put a stop to this nonsense for good. We can�t do anything� [we are just] a bunch of anonymous people on an unsecured website� So stop popping up every time a crime occurs and suggesting that we could possibly do anything about solving it.�

It is at this point that the Cloudmakers have emerged from their dormant immersion with some life-altering experience, reconciling the Self before the game and the Self after the game. Their identities have evolved. They were part of the �best collective intelligence in history,� expressing Turkle�s optimism for the medium of computer technology to provide valuable sources of self-esteem and self-expression by way of the Second Self, but they were also part of the delusional gamers that initially perceived 9/11 as a game to be solved, showing the dangers of extreme immersion over prolonged periods of time. Ultimately, they learned lessons about both and developed new identities with which to approach life after the game: �The game is now over� the game has just begun.�

Again, due to the game�s nature as a collective multiplayer experience, the role of the player in creating the �Turing Event� is obvious. The apparatus, or rather the player�s assumed digital sensory organ, is in this case not something so simple as a console or a PC: it is the internet itself. As the players searched for clues leading to the unraveling of the mystery of the Beast, the internet itself became their interface for playing the game. They assumed it and adopted it as part of the Self, as is evident by their self-professed mastery of it and the importance of it in leading what had become their daily lives.

Zizek provides a useful context for exploring the implications of these types of experiences. Looking at these accounts of videogame experiences we can clearly see a rush of emotions and understandings that seem to have been imparted upon the player by way of their experiences in the reality of the videogame world. The intrusion of the Real in these cases is, in fact, the historical, cultural, and social reality of Self and Other which frames the players understandings of the events that unfold as they participate in an immersive experience. The Call of Duty gamer had to deal with the Real of historical notions of WWII and his sense of what it meant to be a soldier to come to terms with the reality of the Self that emerged during his intense gameplay experience. The Cloudmakers had to deal with the Real of 9/11 intruding upon the reality of The Beast. In other words, Zizek�s social reality becomes the Real for the player whose perspective is shifted to a simulated reality, and thus hints at the Real in terms of a simulated social reality. The intrusion of the social reality provokes emergence, an experience with the very real need to be accounted for and shared. The players of the games mentioned above seem so insistent on how real the experience was that, just as Zizek warns, the breakdown of the barriers between the Real and reality can seem to provoke a form of temporary insanity. Surely, however, the players don�t actually believe their experiences are real, and ultimately the Cloudmaster�s are able to come to terms with the nature of the experience, but the encounter with the Real in the immersive reality of the videogame can often provoke a life-altering experience. This model for understanding emergence as part of the videogame experience does indeed seem to be reminiscent of the Allegory of the Cave because it provides a layered reality in which the intrusion of social reality in simulated reality provides the basis for a simulated understanding of the intrusion of the Real in social reality.

Indeed, the encounter with the Real in immersive reality must ultimately provoke emergence, or Lacan�s proposition of insanity as a literal consequence of such an encounter with the Real will undoubtedly occur. The term emergence is not only appropriate because of its inference that something new or unseen comes to forefront during such an experience, but also because it provides the means through which a player may come to escape from an intensely immersive experience and understand the nature of that experience. Take the following examples, taken from an article on IGN.com called Digital Culture: Drugs by Alex Wollenschlaeger, in which emergence obviously never occurred for these deeply immersed players:

Witness the recent killing in Shanghai of Zhu Caoyuan by his 41-year-old friend, Qiu Chengwei. Qiu and Zhu, 26, had been playing Legend of Mir 3 (one of China's most popular [Massively Multiplayer Online Games]) and together earned a high-level sword. But when Qiu lent the sword to Zhu who then sold it for 7,200 yuan (about $870), the law's inability to help Qiu led to him stabbing his friend to death. Things didn't end well for [Qiu] either - earlier this month a Chinese court sentenced [him] to death for the killing.

More tragic perhaps was the death of a four-month-old girl in South Korea that was indirectly related to World of Warcraft. It seems from reports that the young, mid-twenties parents went off for a session at their local PC baang, expecting to only be a short while. When they came home hours later, though, they found their daughter lying dead on the floor of asphyxiation.

And then there is the self-inflicted damage that seems to be becoming more prevalent. The past few years have seen a rash of instances where gamers have succumbed after marathon sessions. In one notable case, a young Korean man in his twenties collapsed in a PC cafe men's room after playing for a Guinness-worthy 86 hours straight. Death by pavement was the sentence for a 13-year-old in China, who last month killed himself by jumping from the roof of a 24-story building. Apparently the youth had left notes saying that he would be meeting up with three other MMOG players in paradise.

These examples, while extreme, clearly demonstrate the immense power that the apparatus of modern technology commands, and its danger. There are more subtle examples, however, of the consequences of immersion without emergence. I am, of course, referring to a warning issued in videogame manuals and sometimes even on-screen immediately preceding gameplay: the warning of seizure. It is my understanding that bright flashing lights and patterns of color as displayed on the TV screen in many console videogames can trigger epilepsy in those prone to it. It is quite impressive that digital immersion actually has the capacity to cause physical harm to some.

The apparatus of new media, therefore, carries with it a certain risk of bodily harm. As technologies develop, mediums and media adapt to take advantage of the new possibilities by constantly reinventing the apparatus of their reproducibility. It is clear that these apparatuses are, quite literally, more powerful. The Nintendo slogan of old, �now you�re playing with power,� takes on a completely new meaning when you imagine what kind of power it takes (and was never before available to the subject) to cause seizures in small children. What kind of power does it take to cause a Korean man to play videogames for so long without a break that he actually dies?

Admittedly, these kinds of reaction to videogame immersion are very rare. The more common harmful side-effects include losing your job or relationship from playing too much World of Warcraft and insomnia from too much Counter-Strike. However, I�m most interested in the most common harm videogames inflict on their players. It�s a warning that videogames have never issued, but should: �Being immersed in this game for too long can cause headaches! Really bad headaches!�

And so, we begin to discuss immersion seriously. A parent comes into the bedroom to find his child sitting, in exactly the same place as four hours earlier, with a hollow gaze and a blank face illuminated by the flashing of a space battle taking place on a TV. It�s almost as if the child does not exist at that moment, and indeed she doesn�t. She is immersed, sucked out of her body and identity to participate in the creation of something else. She is mired in the grand explosion of noise that can only occur through the fusion of Other and Self�of maker, machine, and me�to create an emergent second self through the reality of the experience of simulation and immersion.

But how to account for the pleasure of such an experience? Turkle definitely offers us one possible account of such pleasure. It is the pleasure of personal freedom, to discover in the safety of anonymous space the limits and limitlessness of our personal identities. We are free to reverse gender roles, experiment with good and evil, and simulate our reality in a digital abstraction. I would like, also, to explore the work of Georges Bataille as an alternative explanation to the pleasure of the Second Self, more specifically, The Notion of Expenditure, for it is in this work we encounter the exquisite pleasure of loss and sacrifice. Bataille says:

In various competitive games, loss in general is produced under complex conditions. Considerable sums of money are spent for the maintenance of quarters, animals, equipment, or men. As much energy as possible is squandered in order to produce a feeling of stupefaction�in any case with an intensity infinitely greater than in productive enterprises. The danger of death is not avoided; on the contrary, it is the object of a strong unconscious attraction.

It is, of course, difficult to adapt an old model to the study of loss in a new medium. Nonetheless, Bataille�s mention of games is one to focus on, and attempt to apply to the emerging medium of videogames. It is, in fact, not quite so difficult to do upon breaking down and interpreting the components. The apparatus of Bataille�s games is apparent: the quarters, animals, equipment, and men. These are directly analogous to the apparatus of modern media, for does not the modern consumer expend considerable amounts of money on televisions, surround sound, game consoles, computers, and human-input devices? Is there any productive enterprise involved in this? It definitely makes game developers money, but so did Bataille�s games make there exhibitors money. One man�s loss is another�s profit, even while pleasurable for both.

The danger of death is also very real in the experience of videogames, and I am not referring to the examples of literal death previously mentioned. I am referring to the death of the First Self through immersion. Perhaps this is merely another way to think of Bataille�s �stupefaction,� for isn�t the deeply immersed gamer in an apparent state of stupefaction to the outside observer? In actuality, however, they have merely experienced the death of the First Self and assumed the role of the Second. Bataille accounts for the pleasure of such an experience convincingly, and I would adapt his argument of poetry to be used for videogames, �it in fact signifies, in the most precise way, creation by means of loss. Its meaning is therefore close to that of sacrifice� the function of representation engages the very life of the one who assumes it�� In other words, by assuming the Second Self, the First Self has already been sacrificed. The loss of self is the means of emergence through which a new Self is created, and this is undeniably pleasurable. I would imagine, that if Bataille were alive today, he would be disgusted by the safety of the experience of expenditure available to the masses through videogames. They are undeniably tame compared to the games Bataille himself favored, however, I do not think he would dispute that they provide the basis for a loss of Self and create a new Self. He may have some difficulty reconciling the nature of multimedia between �real� expenditures and �sacrificial� expenditures, but after witnessing and experiencing immersion firsthand I think he might be tempted to sacrifice his life for the experience of loss attained through games such as World of Warcraft, and be impressed that so many people have subscribed to such a complex condition of loss.

At this time, I would like to turn to a case study in part 3, using principles of emergence as my basis for videogame criticism. The aim of such a study is to provide an in-depth account for and evidence of the role of the apparatus and the player in creating the new immersive aesthetic and the sublime experience of emergence.

The Infinite Art and the Eternal Gamer (Part 1)

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 02:07:00 -0600

Selections from a work in progress

Part 1 of 3

These passages are part of a larger work in progress, wherein I am attempting to determine the larger implications of the immersive aesthetic in videogames, the role of the player in the immersive experience, and the act of emergence after play. Read on...

The videogame is the only medium to exist, purely, as a digital abstraction. That is to say, that there is no possible manifestation of the videogame in a definite form. It does not exist in and of itself. In fact, the closest thing we can come to a finite manifestation of any given videogame is a printout of the source code. But what does this leave us with? A stack of paper, a pile of scrap; it is definitely not a videogame. Furthermore that source code, the language programmers use to instruct computers, is not the same as the language the computer itself uses. The source code must be compiled, i.e. translated by another program. In other words, the final product is never truly an exact copy of what the programmer wrote down. This lack of absolute form, indeed of a very physicality, is significant. The Flash animation or CGI movie can exist in a cellulite copy that depicts a chemical actuality of the art object. Thus, the author can produce a version that exists as it is�the author defines its existence�and there can also exist imperfect copies. The videogame as an abstract string of bits can never be expressed in a definite physical form. Furthermore, every copy is a perfect copy. The videogame presents the same exact information every time, but it often looks different, from the many different combinations of code and apparatuses (video cards, monitors, consoles, and televisions). Furthermore, the videogame requires a player to guide the way events unfold. No two game experiences will be exactly alike, just as there is no official master with the author�s seal of approval. This is all true despite the fact that every copy is perfect. The result of the indeterminacy of a videogame as an absolute experience places a much heavier role on the apparatus and the subject, the only pieces of the videogame whole that do exist absolutely.

This distinction is difficult to fully appreciate. For illumination, allow us to imagine the experience of the author of a CGI film. Our Maya artist has a set of tools capable of creating an amazing degree of verisimilitude to reality, as in Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, or a highly stylized film like Finding Nemo. In both cases, however, the author is able to start with an original concept, the formulation of an idea, and control it to such a degree that it is possible to fully realize their original vision. Much like a sculptor, the 3D programmer can carve and shape the object. While it can be argued that sometimes mistakes occur to create something greater than what the author originally envisioned, they exert the control to accept or reject any mistakes that are made along the way. The videogame designer works with many of the same tools, but the 3D models are never pre-rendered. They live and breathe in the digital abstractions the programmers give them. The programmer, when putting all of the pieces together, never actually knows what is possible until it actually occurs. In other words, computer emergence occurs.

Sherry Turkle describes emergence in her book The Second Self. The most compelling example was that of an early program designed to learn to play checkers (and not actually play checkers). Every game of checkers the program played, it would play a little bit better. After it played enough games, it eventually bested its programmer. Something emerged in the program not specifically implanted by the programmer. Emergence can also within the human realm of interactive gaming.

The Second Self deals primarily with the psychological aspect of human-computer interaction as a mode of developing self-esteem and freedom of expression not normally available to individuals in society that are unable to cope with the social mainstream. Of primary focus are MUDs (Multi-User Dungeons). Turkle argues that the liminal space of the MUD allows players to create anonymous Second Selves that are expressive of a component of an individual�s identity not typically revealed in everyday social interactions. I find this a useful model for understanding the human experience of immersive entertainment, although a few deviations must be noted.

First, the MUD is atypical of mainstream immersive entertainment in that it is fully customizable by the community and, to a large extent, the individual player. That is, it can truly be made to reflect a latent part of an individual identity and emergence of a new part does not necessarily occur. The player of immersive videogames generally does not have the freedom to accept or reject components of a game at will, add new components, or total customization of their game world identity�their avatar. Normally, they must accept a pre-defined avatar, or choose one from a fairly limited number of options, and certainly the game world is statically defined despite the infinite variations of potential play within any given game world.

As immersion occurs, the Second Self can also be understood as the new identity the player has constructed from the encounter with the Other; that is, the game world which the player has not manifested as part of the First Self. The First Self, for lack of a better term, is the sum of a player�s identity before the immersive encounter with the Other in the form of immersive play. The Second Self comes to exist as a medium through which the player understands and perceives the game world. Emergence, in human terms, can be said to be a phenomenon that prompts the incorporation/reconciliation of the Second Self and First Self, and therefore, the emergence of a new or modified Self through the encounter with the Other.

To fully express the changes of the experience of media that such a medium prompts, I would like to adapt a model for understanding communication as proposed by Umberto Eco in his book Travels in Hyperreality. To fully explore this model would be the subject for a separate essay: in this case it exists only to serve the ultimate purpose of defining and reckoning with emergence. Like Eco�s model, the communication of the videogame begins with a Source (computer code), and this consists of the author�s intended message. Here, however, we encounter the first deviation from traditional model of semiotic dissemination of a message. The source must be translated to machine code, and it must pass through a Compiler, at which point some of the author�s intended message may be altered or lost during translation. Indeed, these types of translation are often more accurate, and aren�t prone to cultural differences as in traditional language translation, but it is impossible to say that any process of translation is perfect. The end result, however, is what is printed on the medium of delivery, and will be the same for all users. The translated code is then transmitted to the subject of delivery by the Signal, in the case of videogames this is typically a disc or cartridge. The Signal can indeed be corrupted, but due to the nature of digital technology the result is often total failure of the message as opposed to an alteration of the message present in analog media. The same holds true for the Receiver, typically a laser or copper contacts. Another new step in the process of communication is then performed within the apparatus, and this is the Executer. The previously compiled code must be executed on the hardware, due to differences of computer hardware and the nature of electronic processing the code is never executed in the exact same manner. The Player then controls the relaying of the message, as the game is organized in a manner in which certain input is required of the player before the message will be delivered. Indeed, part of the message is, in and of itself, the player�s input (via the Second Self). Then comes Eco�s Code�I admit the term is somewhat problematic in terms of electronic media�which is the set of cultural values by which the subject of the message interprets its meaning (alas, the gamer Code is also a topic for a different essay).

From this model of communication we can see that, while the Signal and Receiver are still important components for the technical relaying of data to a subject, they are much less important to understanding the human experience of the videogame. Namely, the data is transmitted and received perfectly, or not at all. Furthermore, game developers dedicate huge amounts of resources to bug testing and quality assurance, reducing the role of translation problems during the Compiler stage of communication (although they never remove all bugs). What is left, then, is the exaggerated role of the Executer and the Player, as compared with other forms of media. Henceforth, the focus of this paper will be on the role of the Executer and the Player, or the apparatus and the subject, in the process of immersion and, more importantly, emergence.

Lacanian psychology, as interpreted by Zizek, provides the best grounds for such an unusual event. It is the intrusion of the Real onto reality as understood in the mind of the player-self. I have also heard such an experience described as the �Turing Event.� The �Turing Event� is a term proposed by David Thomas on his videogame theory website, www.buzzcut.com. He says, �What I want to describe, using the conceptual shorthand of a single term, is a fairly simple idea�that there is a point where simulated life is undifferentiated from real life. More specifically, I want a name for that (possibly imaginary point) at which you can�t tell whether you are participating in a computational experience programmed on digital computers or whether you are living your nominal life.� Part of the problem with this definition is that it was formulated in response to the term immersion, commonly used in game theory, which he considers overly ambiguous. In other words, Thomas� �Turing Event� is total immersion, wherein the simulation is indistinguishable from reality via perfect verisimilitude. Thomas� insightful definition is also useful wherein the simulation, independently of immersion, provides the illusion of understanding or illuminating one�s experience in reality, by way of simulating the Real. Therefore, this is another term that I would like to adapt, with some modifications. The �Turing Event� for my purposes will be the point where, via the Second Self, the simulation becomes its own reality independent of social, or normal, reality, and the experience of such becomes phenomenologically indistinguishable from the experience of reality in the First Self (social reality).

If every digital copy is a perfect copy, how can it be that something that happened for one player will never happen for another? How can it be that the rules of the simulation are broken? One might even wonder, if the reality of the simulation can be broken, is one�s own experience in the world defined by a simulated social reality? This is the essence of Lacanian psychology, and the encounter with the real in any medium, videogame or human life, can lead to an experience of emergence. Players often describe these moments with awe, as with the following account of a bug encounter in Dragon Ball Z Saga.

I Bought DBZ Sagas for PS2 yesterday, beat the game in 10 hours and got everything on the game, and I went through with a friend into the Pendulum area, where you can choose any character and re-play any area of the game with that character. I was Broly, my friend was Bardock, and we were one of the areas. Since Broly is such a large character, I over jumped one of the boundaries on a side mountain, and was able to jump off the map and fly around outside of it, escaping the pre-rendered backgrounds, and eventually falling into what we called hell, simply an area devoid of tangibility. We fell forever into a black screen, able to see the sprite overlap, and still functioning our sprites, we were able to make colors and things that would make someone on acid have a heart attack! �

The answer is hidden within this statement. The apparatus and the subject play such a major role within the videogame that, unlike other forms of moving image media, things will occur during gameplay that the author could never account for. This demonstrates the emergence of the apparatus and the subject during videogame play providing a unique experience of the intrusion of the real onto the reality of the videogame world, both as designed by the author and experienced by the player. How then can I claim the videogame to exist as an art object? The problem is not in finding some kind of aesthetic in the videogame, for they are plentiful and obvious. Indeed, on the surface it would seem that the videogame aesthetic is uniformly accountable by way of the immersive experience. The problem is to account for that mysterious effect of all great aesthetic experiences, that moment when the experience of apprehension cannot fully justify the jouissance produced through the encounter of subject and object. In the case of the videogame, this experience is not simply one of immersion, which many videogame critics use as the sole benchmark for the greatness of a game, but one of emergence not provided by all great videogame experiences. It is, as with all art, the designation of a master�an auteur�when the videogame experience is designed with that ultimate experience in mind and trying to provide conditions where emergence becomes more likely.

From the Archive: Games Aren't Mainstream (Yet)

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 17:19:00 -0600

I've been attending a seminar on gender and genre in cinema, during which I was introduced to an article called "Beauty in Motion" by Marc O'Day. The article discusses the phenomenon of Action-Babe Cinema, and the potentially empowering effect for women who are finally able to see tough, beautiful women in action roles on the silver screen. Some of the women in question involve Tomb Raider's Lara Croft and Resident Evil's Alice (who wasn't even a character in the games). I decided to dispute the article's foundation by pointing out that women in the games that these movies were (supposedly) based on are, at best, a controversial issue. Read on... I'm sure most of you are aware of these issues, and in particular the famous debates about Lara Croft and her bra size, when in the past media critics have criticized the game for objectifying women.

In the seminar I was surrounded by those who study film, not games. Most of them had only been vaguely familiar with Lara Croft and the cultural symbol she was long before the movie. Rather, they were only familiar with Lara Croft because of the movie. It was at this point it began to occur to me that, indeed, just because games were making lots of money, arguably more than Hollywood, they weren't in fact anywhere near the mainstream cultural status of Hollywood. One person who buys a game accounts for five people that pay for cinema tickets, or alternatively one person seeing five different films. Due to the length and cost of games, even the most hardcore gamers rarely scratch the surface of the games available each year. The gaming demographic itself is relatively small compared to that of Hollywood. For me, personally, this is also one of the biggest obstacles to convincing people, especially academics, to take the field of game studies seriously.

One has to wonder if the industry can really expect a greatly expanded demographic with the current industry model of big budgets and low success rates. It is my hope to raise questions about the feasibility of expanding the demographic even without considering the very real issue of highly gender and age-specific content. Indeed, I think this is the most frequently and incorrectly cited reason for the game industry's failure to make significant growth over the past few years. What I mean to say is, to afford a new game console with games at $60 each, is quite a different thing from asking somebody to buy a $7-10 movie ticket, irrelevant of game content. Let's assume, for a moment, that there was a large over 40 and female demographic. Would we see more consoles per household, more games per household? Or would the same budget for game-related purchasing still apply, just spread out over a wider game library? This certainly wouldn't help development costs and game success rates.

If the game industry has any reasonable expectation of approaching Hollywood's combined global revenues, and if game academics really want to flex their brains and become accepted warmly into the mainstream academic community, we will have to wait for the industry to realize that there is a real place for short and cheap low-budget games and affordable consoles. With Microsoft's Xbox Live Arcade, on-demand affordable game content, and Nintendo's dedication to affordable consoles and alternative games, we just might be on the verge of discovering gaming's acceptance into the mainstream. Then again, we might also just be on the verge of having gaming becoming an even more expensive hobby for enthusiasts and bored teenagers with disposable income.

In the meantime, I'll have to try hard to remember that all the work I do in the field of gaming still only applies to a relatively small piece of the media culture pie. Games still excite me in the way they present an enormous breadth of possible applications of ideas from a broad range of every sort of media and their respective theories, as do the ambiguous and sometimes illusory ideas of game immersion and emergence. Anybody who is or has been a gamer knows that there is something different about it, something the gameplay makes the mind work as one with a machine while the aesthetic experience does exactly the opposite. The more we try to understand this medium now, the more we can help games try to find their mainstream status, or alternatively, the more we can protect the mainstream from their effects, depending on your perspective.

From the Archive: The Meditative Quality of Work (and Game)

Sat, 24 Nov 2007 22:40:00 -0600

Chris posted an article about how he doesn't understand the genre of racing simulators recently, and I thought this article from my archives made a good counterpoint:

There is nothing new about the idea of a meditative quality of work. It is a popular idea in many religions, including Protestantism and Buddhism, that hard work as a state of mind carries with it redemptive and cleansing properties. Can the immersive aesthetic prompt similar types of experiences through videogames that encourage "work?" I'm specifically thinking in terms of Gran Turismo 4. Throughout my experience playing this game, it is not uncommon for me to enter a trance-like state. That is, by way of seemingly endless repetition and the intense focus that is required of the player in some of the more difficult endurance races, I experience something akin to the emptying of the self. The self effectively vanishes, emptying the mind, entering a state of what Dogen would call "non-thinking." That is not to be confused with not thinking, rather, non-thinking as it is a lack of awareness of the thought process in and of itself. More specifically, one has to rely on muscle memory and intuition, expending effort to think about the race will only detract from the racing itself.

The reward for completing one of these stages is significant, however, not in the way one would expect from a typical videogame experience. Namely, while you get a totally sweet car and a lot of money, there is none of the jumping up and down or shouting and screaming in the immediate joy of completing a difficult stage. These stages can quite literally take 4-6 hours to complete. The sensation of completion, for me, is one of complete relaxation, calmness, and a newfound awareness of my surroundings upon emerging from the experience.

How can it be said that this is a redemptive or cleansing experience? That's one to think about, however, the connection between aesthetic and spiritual experiences has often been the fascination of literary critics and theorists, and I don't believe it's all that unusual for one to feel like, or even be the same as, the other. Zazen has proscribed rules, technique, and discipline. The reward for abiding by and overcoming those rules through technique and discipline is a loss of self and a profound religious experience. Gran Turismo has rules, and requires technique and discipline to master the endurance stages. Is Zazen the game, or is the game religious?

I can think of other games that have a similar effect. Katamari Damacy is a good example. Also, the Amplitude style games, I think, are very much like this. What these games seem to have in common, to my first glance, is that they are difficult, non-linear, never-ending games where the reward is in the effort, and the quality of the reward is a function of the amount of effort.