In my kitchen, there's a rather modern microwave, the kind where you press a single button for just about everything you'd want to put into it. There's also an oven only a few years old, and a refrigerator just a bit older than that. Both appliances offer all of the modern conveniences people would expect. Between the refrigerator and the oven, amidst semi-recently purchased plastic containers with "aroma-sealing" or what-have-you lids is a Tupperware container that is used to hold flour. It was likely bought at a Tupperware party, also likely back when the concept was still new and novel. Inside of that container, resting on the flour, is what most people would call a spade around the same age as the container, and they'd wonder why a garden tool was being used in the kitchen. It is not, however, a spade. "Back in the day", it was a rather common kitchen tool, used to dig powdery substances--such as flour, as a matter of fact.
I like using that container and "spade". I have other containers and devices I can use, but I prefer those two items, in conjunction with the sifter that's likely even older than the "spade" and the container. Every time I use them, I think to myself how, sometimes, the old ways really weren't so bad at all. Sure, if you want to get into the heavy stuff, no one can deny that the equality issue, for example, is better across the board now than it was half a decade ago; we're also now better educated on medical issues, leading to longer lives that also stay productive. I think, however, that most people see the heavy issues and disregard all of the things done and knew a generation or three ago; baby and the bath water, as it were. I don't know why that is, but I find it disheartening.
Sometimes I think it's a case of too much convenience. Consider the automat. Now we have pre-packaged foods that you can grab and eat on the go, for any meal, and most places even offer microwaves to heat food up before you go. It's convenient, yes, but I think it's a bit too convenient. When we do that, we don't really see or talk to anyone but the person behind the counter where we purchase the food. Automats, however, were similar to cafeterias in that there were tables to sit at. This restaurant-esque atmosphere engendered meant that after you purchased your food from the slots, you would sit with other people. Even if you didn't necessarily speak directly with people at neighboring tables, they were still there. You would overhear their conversations, hear people speaking of their hopes and dreams, their fears and failings, and--consciously or not--you'd remember that these are real people, working no less hard for no more money than you.
We've forgotten what that's like, I think--being around other people for most of our day. These days, most people ride alone (whether literally or metaphorically) to work, where they work alone, then they ride home alone. If they live with someone who stays at home, then that person has been home alone all day, taking care of household tasks. Perhaps they go out to a grocery store or to a laundromat, but they are still at least metaphorically alone. At least a good eight hours spent in solitude. This causes feelings of isolation, and we have a harder time sympathizing with others, especially those outside our Monkeysphere. These days, we get most of our news from televisions and newspapers rather than neighbors--and most of us don't even know our neighbors' names. Neighborhood backyard barbeques have given way to solitary or near-solitary entertainment with a television.
Walking around my city, I can always tell the general age of cement sidewalks. The cement laid decades ago is still unbroken (save for obvious external things like a growing tree, an accident, or some similar). The cement laid comparably recently typically has cracks--hairline fractures all the way to deep gashes. Makes me think about the conveniences around us. Culturally, we're different now than we were even merely decades ago, in some ways drastically. As such, we divide, we put up these huge chasms between "us" and "everyone else". A few generations ago--yes, you had problems like equality issues, but we're laying that aside for the moment--people tended to stick together, they tended to keep larger Monkeyspheres.
I have to wonder about future generations. Will the ever-growing desire for convenience make them even less capable of dealing with others on a personal level? Will they see others solely as a means to garner more convenience? I hope they remember that when we walk through life, we leave footprints behind us. More and more, people's footprints are in solitary paths, only lightly touching on another person's footprints. I hope they remember, so walk with as many people as they can. A new automat has opened in New York. Hopefully a lot of footprints will lead there, and more will be opened across the world. Maybe then there will be fewer solitary paths.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Just an Old-Fashioned Love Song
When most people think of Donna Reed, they think of "The Donna Reed Show", where she played Donna Stone, a woman devoted to her family, and to being a housewife that didn't just stand back and smile while the husband took care of everything. For the time, it was rather atypical--not only did Donna Stone actively help the children solve their problems, especially when her husband--a pediatrician--had to see patients, but she also worked as a nurse at a time when almost, if not, all women her age were (or were thought to be nothing more than) housewives.
I mention her because she was, in a way, a really good role-model for me and especially my present situation. Like many women on television of the era, she kept up the house and looked good doing it. While I now realize that the looking-good-doing-it part is rather impractical, it had a good impact on me. Also, watching my grandmother do that sort of set of tasks with such dedication helped immensely. Through watching real-life applications of what I saw on television (not that I was around for the initial run of the show; it was watched in syndication by my grandparents, so that's what I watched; my choice was either that or nothing), I learned the value of keeping up a home, and just what they mean when they say that home-making is truly a job, yet without being paid.
Most people either dismiss Reed's show as a fine enough situation comedy, or some similar, but I think it was a good example of television having a positive impact. It wasn't the sole cause, of course, but it was at least a cause. I learned a lot of old-fashioned values, also, and really think that if more people held to similar values, the world in general would be a better place. Oh, I'm not talking about the "values" spouted by the left-wing or right-wing zealots; their values try to pin people down, one way or another, without giving room for individuality and differing paradigms. An example of what I'm talking about would be not caring which person stays home and which person works. Whomever is best suited should do what is needed. If, in a heterosexual relationship, the woman enjoys working and the man enjoys staying home, I don't see why they shouldn't do just that. If both want the same thing, I think they should talk about it and arrive at whatever decision suits them best. What, really, is so wrong with such a blend of old-fashioned and new-fashioned?
Sooner or later, maybe I'll have an answer to that. Right now, it seems that people lean too far one way or another, and that right there is, I think, a big ause of such a schism in the world. It's fine enough to set roles, for whatever needs to be done--in any aspect of life, within the home or without it--but too many people either try to pin people down into pre-defined roles, whether or not they're even well-suited for those roles. Or, people try to have no roles whatsoever, and say that things will "work themselves out". Maybe so, but such a devil-may-care attitude about it surely can't be helping, either.
Maybe one day I'll have a better solution than "respect people without trying to make them into what you think they should be", but then--I have to admit to not thinking there should be a better solution than that.
I mention her because she was, in a way, a really good role-model for me and especially my present situation. Like many women on television of the era, she kept up the house and looked good doing it. While I now realize that the looking-good-doing-it part is rather impractical, it had a good impact on me. Also, watching my grandmother do that sort of set of tasks with such dedication helped immensely. Through watching real-life applications of what I saw on television (not that I was around for the initial run of the show; it was watched in syndication by my grandparents, so that's what I watched; my choice was either that or nothing), I learned the value of keeping up a home, and just what they mean when they say that home-making is truly a job, yet without being paid.
Most people either dismiss Reed's show as a fine enough situation comedy, or some similar, but I think it was a good example of television having a positive impact. It wasn't the sole cause, of course, but it was at least a cause. I learned a lot of old-fashioned values, also, and really think that if more people held to similar values, the world in general would be a better place. Oh, I'm not talking about the "values" spouted by the left-wing or right-wing zealots; their values try to pin people down, one way or another, without giving room for individuality and differing paradigms. An example of what I'm talking about would be not caring which person stays home and which person works. Whomever is best suited should do what is needed. If, in a heterosexual relationship, the woman enjoys working and the man enjoys staying home, I don't see why they shouldn't do just that. If both want the same thing, I think they should talk about it and arrive at whatever decision suits them best. What, really, is so wrong with such a blend of old-fashioned and new-fashioned?
Sooner or later, maybe I'll have an answer to that. Right now, it seems that people lean too far one way or another, and that right there is, I think, a big ause of such a schism in the world. It's fine enough to set roles, for whatever needs to be done--in any aspect of life, within the home or without it--but too many people either try to pin people down into pre-defined roles, whether or not they're even well-suited for those roles. Or, people try to have no roles whatsoever, and say that things will "work themselves out". Maybe so, but such a devil-may-care attitude about it surely can't be helping, either.
Maybe one day I'll have a better solution than "respect people without trying to make them into what you think they should be", but then--I have to admit to not thinking there should be a better solution than that.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Cold Wars
I know I've not posted in a while, even though the ten business days was up a while ago, but--settling into the new place, new responsibilities, et cetera. Hopefully I can be forgiven. ;)
Anyway. For the purposes of this topic, we'll use Merriam-Webster's second definition of "Cold War": a condition of rivalry, mistrust, and often open hostility short of violence [...]. Funny thing about cold wars--two (or more, but we'll stick to two) sides of a conflict, each believing that they are Right (yes, with a capital R). A line is drawn, sides are taken, with those who abstain from officially taking a side considered to be unofficially siding with "the enemy".
Really, personal cold wars aren't all that much different from national ones. There's a conflict, say over money, a love interest, a perceived lack of duty/loyalty/honor/what-have-you. Sure, the scale is different, but the basics are rather similar. For one thing, lives can be irrevocably altered by personal cold wars; someone you thought was your best friend becomes your most hated rival, families torn apart over ideological differences, one's very outlook on life altered and shaken. If you're the introspective type, it makes you wonder what it's all "for". Is all of that barely-contained hatred really worth holding onto? The problem is that in some cases, it might just be justified.
Of course, there's such a thing as going too far, also. For instance, let's say that a personal cold war gets started over money. One who feels "burned" by the whole affair may be a good deal more cautious with their finances in the future, not quite as ready to help others who claim to need it, yet still at least open to the possibility. On the other, extreme, hand, one may become so much of a miser that they no longer feel anything but scorn and even hatred for those who claim to need money. Or, say, a personal cold war started over a love interest. The one who feels "burned" may become more cautious about whom they give their heart to, in any form of relationship, though still keeping their heart open enough for the possibility of friendship or even love. On the extreme hand, one might become so hard-hearted that everyone is viewed with mistrust and open suspicion. Lamentably, such "extreme" cases are hard to look down upon.
The real problem with cold wars on any scale is how to end them. Some simply cannot be ended, merely put on the proverbial back-burner, set aside for other pursuits. In my experience, personal cold wars are hard indeed to end. Truces can rarely if ever be called; both parties find it difficult nearly to impossibility to trust one another again, even to simply the point of ending hostilities. I wish I had some easy, step-by-step advice on how to do just that, but alas, I do not. Many people have been involved in personal cold wars, and I would be surprised indeed if any have any concrete advice--though, of course, on such an issue as this, advice in indeed welcome.
The lamentable thing about it all is that personal cold wars destroy personal relationships--while not on the scale of national ones, such endings feel so much more brutal. You cannot look at a spot that, say, you and your once-best friend enjoyed going to regularly without at the least feeling some sort of negative, intense emotion. Often, such emotions are disgust, anger, or even hatred. It's a shame, really.
I suppose that if I had advice, it would be this: Keep your eyes open, learn from everything that happens to and around you, and never lose sight of the good times once shared. Even if the relationship is severed brutally, there still must be good memories there. One cannot feel intense anger over a betrayal if one was not emotionally invested in the relationship in the first place. Never forget the cause of the severance, but never either forget the laughter shared, the infectious happiness. That might just make enduring the severance a bit more easily gone through. Good luck to anyone going through just that.
Anyway. For the purposes of this topic, we'll use Merriam-Webster's second definition of "Cold War": a condition of rivalry, mistrust, and often open hostility short of violence [...]. Funny thing about cold wars--two (or more, but we'll stick to two) sides of a conflict, each believing that they are Right (yes, with a capital R). A line is drawn, sides are taken, with those who abstain from officially taking a side considered to be unofficially siding with "the enemy".
Really, personal cold wars aren't all that much different from national ones. There's a conflict, say over money, a love interest, a perceived lack of duty/loyalty/honor/what-have-you. Sure, the scale is different, but the basics are rather similar. For one thing, lives can be irrevocably altered by personal cold wars; someone you thought was your best friend becomes your most hated rival, families torn apart over ideological differences, one's very outlook on life altered and shaken. If you're the introspective type, it makes you wonder what it's all "for". Is all of that barely-contained hatred really worth holding onto? The problem is that in some cases, it might just be justified.
Of course, there's such a thing as going too far, also. For instance, let's say that a personal cold war gets started over money. One who feels "burned" by the whole affair may be a good deal more cautious with their finances in the future, not quite as ready to help others who claim to need it, yet still at least open to the possibility. On the other, extreme, hand, one may become so much of a miser that they no longer feel anything but scorn and even hatred for those who claim to need money. Or, say, a personal cold war started over a love interest. The one who feels "burned" may become more cautious about whom they give their heart to, in any form of relationship, though still keeping their heart open enough for the possibility of friendship or even love. On the extreme hand, one might become so hard-hearted that everyone is viewed with mistrust and open suspicion. Lamentably, such "extreme" cases are hard to look down upon.
The real problem with cold wars on any scale is how to end them. Some simply cannot be ended, merely put on the proverbial back-burner, set aside for other pursuits. In my experience, personal cold wars are hard indeed to end. Truces can rarely if ever be called; both parties find it difficult nearly to impossibility to trust one another again, even to simply the point of ending hostilities. I wish I had some easy, step-by-step advice on how to do just that, but alas, I do not. Many people have been involved in personal cold wars, and I would be surprised indeed if any have any concrete advice--though, of course, on such an issue as this, advice in indeed welcome.
The lamentable thing about it all is that personal cold wars destroy personal relationships--while not on the scale of national ones, such endings feel so much more brutal. You cannot look at a spot that, say, you and your once-best friend enjoyed going to regularly without at the least feeling some sort of negative, intense emotion. Often, such emotions are disgust, anger, or even hatred. It's a shame, really.
I suppose that if I had advice, it would be this: Keep your eyes open, learn from everything that happens to and around you, and never lose sight of the good times once shared. Even if the relationship is severed brutally, there still must be good memories there. One cannot feel intense anger over a betrayal if one was not emotionally invested in the relationship in the first place. Never forget the cause of the severance, but never either forget the laughter shared, the infectious happiness. That might just make enduring the severance a bit more easily gone through. Good luck to anyone going through just that.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Moving
Yep, that's what I'm doing. On Wednesday the seventeenth, phone service is going to be shut off here and reconnected where I'm moving to. Re-establishing an internet connection may take up to ten business days, though, so if there's not a post for a while, that's why.
I hate having a hiatus when the blog is so relatively new, but--them's the breaks, as they say.
I hate having a hiatus when the blog is so relatively new, but--them's the breaks, as they say.
Tipping Really Isn't Just a City in China
I don't understand the notion of tipping servers/deliverers. By that I mean that I understand the process, but not the concept. "Waiters need to eat, too!" people say. Well, true. The thing is, I don't tip my dentist after he roots around my mouth with his iron hook; neither do I give the kid behind the counter at Del Taco money for giving me my soft tacos. The job description for waiters or food deliverers is pretty simple, simpler still in the case of food deliverers. When hired on as a waiter, you are hired to take orders and bring the food to the customer. As a deliverer, you're hired to drive the food to the customer's house. Why does that deserve a tip? To answer my own question, and to oh-so-subtly segue into another thing I don't get, it's because they're paid rather badly. Payment is factored with the probability of tipping--they get paid badly because they should be tipped.
Think about that for a few moments. You'll see that it's the scam of the century, and totally legal. Let's say that minimum wage, across the board, was seven dollars an hour. A restaurant can get away with paying a waiter, say, two dollars an hour because he's supposed to get tips. While, yes, many places operate under a policy of "averaging" out--that is, a "target" is seven dollars, the restaurant pays two dollars, and at the end of the night, if the tips don't equal out to seven dollars an hour or more the restaurant chips in the difference--many don't.
Also interesting is that no one really knows for sure where it came from. The most likely explanation is that it was a gift. Put in today's terms, "Here, have some random money." Some say that if there was no tipping, customers would have to pay higher bills, but I don't think that's necessarily true. From what I can tell, having been a sort of "student of humanity", it seems more likely that it's a scheme. I think that if there was no tipping, the restaurants et al. would have to pay their employees what amounts to minimum wage. Though tips is a bit of a crap shoot in terms of how much one takes in at the end of the shift, it seems that the good days outnumber the bad. As such, not many people employed in such jobs would change the situation if they could, and quite honestly I don't blame them.
I'm not saying that such people shouldn't be tipped. Well--actually, I suppose I am. I fall back on the analogy of tipping the kid behind the counter at Sonic Burger. His job is to take your order and give you your food. His employers don't jack him around and pay him terribly, so why do restaurants do it? Tipping people who go out of their way, sure, I can see that--but I don't see the point of tipping someone who is doing their job. Some people say that tipping is also a form of expressing how much one liked the service. Well, I think that's bunk. Most people I've heard of--not just people I "know", but just random people--tip flatly. Whether a percentage or just adding a certain denomination bill and saying to keep the change, most people don't really try to factor anything into the tip. "Here, have some money."
Now, having said all of that, I don't know how to change it. I can't make employers pay better wages, and if I did I couldn't get them to pay better than minimum wage (which makes me wonder why an official "waiter" should get paid better than the kid at Taco Bell, but that's another tangent), so what should be done about it? Heck if I know. So, having said all of that, I still tip. I am among the many who don't try to figure out tips; if the bill comes out to, say, thirty dollars and random cents, I'll toss out forty or forty-five dollars and be done with it. Still, I am forced to wonder why such an obvious scam is perpetuated. It just doesn't help that, in one fashion or another, I'm helping to perpetuate it. Hmm.
Think about that for a few moments. You'll see that it's the scam of the century, and totally legal. Let's say that minimum wage, across the board, was seven dollars an hour. A restaurant can get away with paying a waiter, say, two dollars an hour because he's supposed to get tips. While, yes, many places operate under a policy of "averaging" out--that is, a "target" is seven dollars, the restaurant pays two dollars, and at the end of the night, if the tips don't equal out to seven dollars an hour or more the restaurant chips in the difference--many don't.
Also interesting is that no one really knows for sure where it came from. The most likely explanation is that it was a gift. Put in today's terms, "Here, have some random money." Some say that if there was no tipping, customers would have to pay higher bills, but I don't think that's necessarily true. From what I can tell, having been a sort of "student of humanity", it seems more likely that it's a scheme. I think that if there was no tipping, the restaurants et al. would have to pay their employees what amounts to minimum wage. Though tips is a bit of a crap shoot in terms of how much one takes in at the end of the shift, it seems that the good days outnumber the bad. As such, not many people employed in such jobs would change the situation if they could, and quite honestly I don't blame them.
I'm not saying that such people shouldn't be tipped. Well--actually, I suppose I am. I fall back on the analogy of tipping the kid behind the counter at Sonic Burger. His job is to take your order and give you your food. His employers don't jack him around and pay him terribly, so why do restaurants do it? Tipping people who go out of their way, sure, I can see that--but I don't see the point of tipping someone who is doing their job. Some people say that tipping is also a form of expressing how much one liked the service. Well, I think that's bunk. Most people I've heard of--not just people I "know", but just random people--tip flatly. Whether a percentage or just adding a certain denomination bill and saying to keep the change, most people don't really try to factor anything into the tip. "Here, have some money."
Now, having said all of that, I don't know how to change it. I can't make employers pay better wages, and if I did I couldn't get them to pay better than minimum wage (which makes me wonder why an official "waiter" should get paid better than the kid at Taco Bell, but that's another tangent), so what should be done about it? Heck if I know. So, having said all of that, I still tip. I am among the many who don't try to figure out tips; if the bill comes out to, say, thirty dollars and random cents, I'll toss out forty or forty-five dollars and be done with it. Still, I am forced to wonder why such an obvious scam is perpetuated. It just doesn't help that, in one fashion or another, I'm helping to perpetuate it. Hmm.
Monday, January 8, 2007
Destinations, Simple Joys, and Discoveries
In the hey-day of Route Sixty-Six, the average family vacation would, in modern terms, be more likely dubbed a "road trip". No destination in mind, just the open road and seeing the sights, as it were. I miss that, and wish I had gotten in earlier on it. A phenomenon I've noticed in my generation and the younger generations is this preoccupation with the destination, and I am somewhat saddened by it. To be sure, my generation didn't start this trend, but we and those after us certainly continued and propagated it.
I wish to see a return to such a mentality of the journey mattering more than the destination. Myself, I barely remember things from destinations, such as to a theme park, but I remember the journey itself with some clarity. On a trip to Texas, I passed through the desert, and saw things I'd never even thought of. Small things, mostly, but wondrous things to me nonetheless. I'd never seen, for instance, mailboxes as art pieces before, but there they were. I'd seen mailboxes set into designs, of course, like the animal whose mouth or rear end must be opened to deposit or retrieve mail, but some of the ones I saw on that trip--well, they defy easy explanation that would preserve the sense of amusement I felt just by seeing them.
Small things, as I said, but good things, exciting things. I think that if more people were to simply go-- a vehicle or their feet, some money or working as they go, or something; just get out there and go--that they'd rediscover their culture in the most surprising and fascinating of ways. Did you know that in Weiser, Idaho, there's a fiddle contest open to people around the world? For a few days each summer, people from around the world gather and forget about everything--race, religion, politics, and everything else--and just play. Imagine just happening upon something like that. Spend a day or two listening to people pay the fiddle, then head back onto the open road.
What I'd like to do is, granted, nothing new. Just get some friends and go along Route Sixty-Six, seeing the things it decides to show us, partaking of the world around me without bogging myself down with unnecessary details about where we're going. I think more people should do that. You do that, you travel without a destination, allowing yourself to remain open to whatever experiences your travels bring you, and you learn more about the world you live in. You come across many microcosm symbolic of the different paradigms that can be found throughout the world. You come across cities with Little Italy or Little Havana or some similar in them, where there are foods, people, customs, ideologies that you can only find in the "home" countries.
You go, you just go, and you see wonders that you might never see if you stuck to the quickest routes that get you to a specific destination. You meet people of all walks of life, of all faiths and paradigms, on "road trips", and your own life is enriched by it. You will see things that you never even conceived of, and even if you disagree with these things, your knowledge of the world is enlarged. If nothing else, if nothing else, you will have stories to tell friends and family for years to come. Imagine telling your children and grandchildren about the time you stopped in a diner you saw just because it looked "neat", while passing through a town you never knew existed even though it was in your state. Those are the kinds of stories, memories, that build more good memories for years to come.
I wish to see a return to such a mentality of the journey mattering more than the destination. Myself, I barely remember things from destinations, such as to a theme park, but I remember the journey itself with some clarity. On a trip to Texas, I passed through the desert, and saw things I'd never even thought of. Small things, mostly, but wondrous things to me nonetheless. I'd never seen, for instance, mailboxes as art pieces before, but there they were. I'd seen mailboxes set into designs, of course, like the animal whose mouth or rear end must be opened to deposit or retrieve mail, but some of the ones I saw on that trip--well, they defy easy explanation that would preserve the sense of amusement I felt just by seeing them.
Small things, as I said, but good things, exciting things. I think that if more people were to simply go-- a vehicle or their feet, some money or working as they go, or something; just get out there and go--that they'd rediscover their culture in the most surprising and fascinating of ways. Did you know that in Weiser, Idaho, there's a fiddle contest open to people around the world? For a few days each summer, people from around the world gather and forget about everything--race, religion, politics, and everything else--and just play. Imagine just happening upon something like that. Spend a day or two listening to people pay the fiddle, then head back onto the open road.
What I'd like to do is, granted, nothing new. Just get some friends and go along Route Sixty-Six, seeing the things it decides to show us, partaking of the world around me without bogging myself down with unnecessary details about where we're going. I think more people should do that. You do that, you travel without a destination, allowing yourself to remain open to whatever experiences your travels bring you, and you learn more about the world you live in. You come across many microcosm symbolic of the different paradigms that can be found throughout the world. You come across cities with Little Italy or Little Havana or some similar in them, where there are foods, people, customs, ideologies that you can only find in the "home" countries.
You go, you just go, and you see wonders that you might never see if you stuck to the quickest routes that get you to a specific destination. You meet people of all walks of life, of all faiths and paradigms, on "road trips", and your own life is enriched by it. You will see things that you never even conceived of, and even if you disagree with these things, your knowledge of the world is enlarged. If nothing else, if nothing else, you will have stories to tell friends and family for years to come. Imagine telling your children and grandchildren about the time you stopped in a diner you saw just because it looked "neat", while passing through a town you never knew existed even though it was in your state. Those are the kinds of stories, memories, that build more good memories for years to come.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
On Christianity, Martin Luther King, Jr., Communities, and Respect
I have been reading The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr., and I must say that it is an inspirational work. As much as the goal of equality and harmony between men and women of all races, creeds, and faiths is still looked toward and fought for, the words of King, Jr. reach even further. I was made to ponder the role of the Christian Church in today's society
Yet this is not the case, at least in the majority of the United States. I have heard leaders of churches lament that those seeking to become leaders of the faith are dwindling in number; I have heard of congregations being merged, as the leaders simply did not have the time between their duties in the pulpit and their duties away from it. Taking as neutral a point of view as I believe I am capable of, I wondered why this is. I wondered, off and on, for many years, and the words of King, Jr., gave me my answer. That answer is that the community does not know who the members of the churches are. The leaders preach from the pulpit, then are notably absent away from it. What community-outreach programs that exist are few and short-reaching.
I believe that if a community--if an individual--is going to make the decision whether or not to join a specific church or even any church, that community and individual must know the church, and that can only happen if its leaders are known. For many reasons, the leaders of the churches stay behind the doors of their sanctuaries. For many reasons, they are rarely seen outside of the walls of their church. These reasons, in some areas of the country, may entail fear. Churches are not accepted in some areas, and that lack of acceptance makes itself known in intolerance, or downright action against the building and those who dwell within it. These reasons also entail the lack of knowledge in how to reach out to a world it doesn't understand--and make no mistake, those that dwell within a church's walls rarely understand those that do not.
Again, taking as unbiased a view as I am capable of, I say that this lack of understanding exists, and I say it exists because of paradigm. The leaders of the churches have certain paradigms, and those who do not accept the church have other paradigms. For too long, people on both sides--people holding a Bible and people wanting nothing to do with it--have realized that they do not understand the "other side" but are content to leave it at that. This complacency has manifested in an air of ignorance on all sides, and this is, I believe, one of the roots of the matter.
Many may disagree with the generalities of a certain branch of Christianity, and that is fine. Healthy, rational discourse and debate is a treasure to be enjoyed whenever possible--but no discourse can exist where there is no meeting of separate views. I believe that if the church is truly desirous of understanding, of being understood, then it must take the first step. I believe that if any community met the leaders of its churches, even if their paradigms are not in-line with Christianity, a dialogue will be opened and respect will be given and received. The atheist and the devout can stand together, respectfully disagreeing on views but accepting one another as individuals.
There are many ways a church can "reach out" to its community, and show--with the utmost respect--how their views tie into the world around them while at the same time getting to know the community on an individual basis as well as, often, simply having fun. I believe that in an atmosphere where people are joyful and relaxed, those who disagree with each other the strongest will at the least be able to speak with calmness and ration.
One idea I had was a movie night. Show modern movies, or movies that are widely considered to be epics, or those that are at the least still enjoyed decades after their release. For example, four movie nights, each showing a movie from the Alien Quadrilogy. Yes, it is violent, and yes, the characters profane--but it is fiction. I believe that if the leaders of the church allow even such movies as these in an attempt to connect to their communities, understanding that such profanities and violence is fiction and nothing more, and while of course recommending strongly for age limits, that another line of communication can be opened. And in the first movie, Alien, after it was watched, there could be a discussion about what people thought about it. I believe that Biblical allegories and analogies should not be at first brought up; instead, more general dialogue should be had, with all participants speaking their minds openly and with respect for others. I also believe that a Biblical discussion should be optional, not mandatory. Give an overview of what is to be discussed, and ask that the participants join in, but it should not be demanded. If people wish to just come and watch a movie in company of potential friends, this should be allowed and accepted with grace, a smile, and a sincere wish that they will return, if at least to watch another movie.
Once the Biblical discussion started, there could be analogies made to Ripley as a flawed human being overcoming the unknown and unknowable demon with naught but determination and faith. Just as Ripley had to face a demon whose very existence was to kill and create mayhem, analogies could be made as to the plight of Biblical figures of note. Then examples could be made of how such analogies applied to modern life.
Above all, the leaders of the churches must take stances and positions on topics of all kinds. What this reverend or that pastor feels about an issue is important, for his views will guide his preachings, and as such it behooves the leader to let the community and individual have at least an idea of what to expect during sermons. They must, I believe, not merely take a stance, but also explain it. Using the Bible as a reason without further explanation is meaningless. Verses must be cited and interpretations given--and the leader must be open to discussion on those views. The leader must be willing to sit down and discuss, even debate, what brought them to the view they hold. If they can express such reasoning, even if it isn't agreed with, it will usually be respected. Saying, "The Bible tells me so" and leaving it at that isn't good enough; more to the point, it makes they who would say such a thing seem a fool, incapable of or unwilling to look deeper into the views they hold.
I also believe that Bible groups must be held, but not hidden away in someone's living room, or in the back room of a local Christian bookstore. They must be held in public, when allowed, quietly and openly allowing others to join in--even if it's just to sit quietly and listen.
I do not believe that these would be radical changes for any church, nor do I believe that they would entail radical shifts in the leaders' views. All it would take is initiative, inner drive, and--most importantly--respect for the community and its members. I also believe that such a thing can happen, and I hope it does, not so everyone can be homogenized under one banner of faith but so that understanding can be had by knowledge exchanged. I have faith that, even if men and women disagree, they will have more respect for the "other side", and that respect will only bring the goal of total harmony all the closer. For that is a dream worth striving for--men and women of all faiths and nationalities coming together and sharing ideologies, beliefs, in an atmosphere of mutual respect and acceptance. That is a goal worth working for at nearly any cost to the self.
I even believe that it can happen. However, both sides must take steps forward. Even so, I believe it will happen, and I for one am glad. As rich and diverse as this world is, it would be a true joy indeed to learn about other cultures and beliefs in such a setting of peaceful debate. I can see such a day coming, and only hope I personally witness it.
[1], and I realized that it is sorely lacking the virtues that it once had. In that book, the views of King, Jr., concerning the Church were that it needed to be more active in its community in all things. The role of the pastor/priest/what-have-you was more than preaching from a pulpit, he says. It is more than preaching a faith and shaking hands at the door, not to see the congregation for another week. The role of the head of a church was and is to be, in my words, the ambassador of the church.Yet this is not the case, at least in the majority of the United States. I have heard leaders of churches lament that those seeking to become leaders of the faith are dwindling in number; I have heard of congregations being merged, as the leaders simply did not have the time between their duties in the pulpit and their duties away from it. Taking as neutral a point of view as I believe I am capable of, I wondered why this is. I wondered, off and on, for many years, and the words of King, Jr., gave me my answer. That answer is that the community does not know who the members of the churches are. The leaders preach from the pulpit, then are notably absent away from it. What community-outreach programs that exist are few and short-reaching.
I believe that if a community--if an individual--is going to make the decision whether or not to join a specific church or even any church, that community and individual must know the church, and that can only happen if its leaders are known. For many reasons, the leaders of the churches stay behind the doors of their sanctuaries. For many reasons, they are rarely seen outside of the walls of their church. These reasons, in some areas of the country, may entail fear. Churches are not accepted in some areas, and that lack of acceptance makes itself known in intolerance, or downright action against the building and those who dwell within it. These reasons also entail the lack of knowledge in how to reach out to a world it doesn't understand--and make no mistake, those that dwell within a church's walls rarely understand those that do not.
Again, taking as unbiased a view as I am capable of, I say that this lack of understanding exists, and I say it exists because of paradigm. The leaders of the churches have certain paradigms, and those who do not accept the church have other paradigms. For too long, people on both sides--people holding a Bible and people wanting nothing to do with it--have realized that they do not understand the "other side" but are content to leave it at that. This complacency has manifested in an air of ignorance on all sides, and this is, I believe, one of the roots of the matter.
Many may disagree with the generalities of a certain branch of Christianity, and that is fine. Healthy, rational discourse and debate is a treasure to be enjoyed whenever possible--but no discourse can exist where there is no meeting of separate views. I believe that if the church is truly desirous of understanding, of being understood, then it must take the first step. I believe that if any community met the leaders of its churches, even if their paradigms are not in-line with Christianity, a dialogue will be opened and respect will be given and received. The atheist and the devout can stand together, respectfully disagreeing on views but accepting one another as individuals.
There are many ways a church can "reach out" to its community, and show--with the utmost respect--how their views tie into the world around them while at the same time getting to know the community on an individual basis as well as, often, simply having fun. I believe that in an atmosphere where people are joyful and relaxed, those who disagree with each other the strongest will at the least be able to speak with calmness and ration.
One idea I had was a movie night. Show modern movies, or movies that are widely considered to be epics, or those that are at the least still enjoyed decades after their release. For example, four movie nights, each showing a movie from the Alien Quadrilogy. Yes, it is violent, and yes, the characters profane--but it is fiction. I believe that if the leaders of the church allow even such movies as these in an attempt to connect to their communities, understanding that such profanities and violence is fiction and nothing more, and while of course recommending strongly for age limits, that another line of communication can be opened. And in the first movie, Alien, after it was watched, there could be a discussion about what people thought about it. I believe that Biblical allegories and analogies should not be at first brought up; instead, more general dialogue should be had, with all participants speaking their minds openly and with respect for others. I also believe that a Biblical discussion should be optional, not mandatory. Give an overview of what is to be discussed, and ask that the participants join in, but it should not be demanded. If people wish to just come and watch a movie in company of potential friends, this should be allowed and accepted with grace, a smile, and a sincere wish that they will return, if at least to watch another movie.
Once the Biblical discussion started, there could be analogies made to Ripley as a flawed human being overcoming the unknown and unknowable demon with naught but determination and faith. Just as Ripley had to face a demon whose very existence was to kill and create mayhem, analogies could be made as to the plight of Biblical figures of note. Then examples could be made of how such analogies applied to modern life.
Above all, the leaders of the churches must take stances and positions on topics of all kinds. What this reverend or that pastor feels about an issue is important, for his views will guide his preachings, and as such it behooves the leader to let the community and individual have at least an idea of what to expect during sermons. They must, I believe, not merely take a stance, but also explain it. Using the Bible as a reason without further explanation is meaningless. Verses must be cited and interpretations given--and the leader must be open to discussion on those views. The leader must be willing to sit down and discuss, even debate, what brought them to the view they hold. If they can express such reasoning, even if it isn't agreed with, it will usually be respected. Saying, "The Bible tells me so" and leaving it at that isn't good enough; more to the point, it makes they who would say such a thing seem a fool, incapable of or unwilling to look deeper into the views they hold.
I also believe that Bible groups must be held, but not hidden away in someone's living room, or in the back room of a local Christian bookstore. They must be held in public, when allowed, quietly and openly allowing others to join in--even if it's just to sit quietly and listen.
I do not believe that these would be radical changes for any church, nor do I believe that they would entail radical shifts in the leaders' views. All it would take is initiative, inner drive, and--most importantly--respect for the community and its members. I also believe that such a thing can happen, and I hope it does, not so everyone can be homogenized under one banner of faith but so that understanding can be had by knowledge exchanged. I have faith that, even if men and women disagree, they will have more respect for the "other side", and that respect will only bring the goal of total harmony all the closer. For that is a dream worth striving for--men and women of all faiths and nationalities coming together and sharing ideologies, beliefs, in an atmosphere of mutual respect and acceptance. That is a goal worth working for at nearly any cost to the self.
I even believe that it can happen. However, both sides must take steps forward. Even so, I believe it will happen, and I for one am glad. As rich and diverse as this world is, it would be a true joy indeed to learn about other cultures and beliefs in such a setting of peaceful debate. I can see such a day coming, and only hope I personally witness it.
[1]: I don't mean to not include other religions; Christianity is what I know best, and the faith that King, Jr., held to so that's what he talked about. As such, that's what I was thinking about. For other beliefs, I sincerely believe that my ideas can and most definitely should be adapted so that they, too, can reach out to their community and let the members know more about them.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
More Choice in Video Games
There is a trend in video games emerging toward having role-playing game-like structures. Take, for instance, Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. The player can build up C.J.'s marksmanship in specific weapons; also, the player can make C.J.'s driving skill with cars raise. Furthermore, by wearing certain clothes, one can raise C.J.'s sex appeal. In short, the player has many, many ways to enhance C.J. Then there are the two recent Spider-Man games: Spider-Man: the Movie 2 and Ultimate Spider-Man, where the player built up Spider-Man's combat and swinging abilities. More stereotypical examples of building up a character's attributes would be "true" R.P.G.s, such as the arguably most well-known Final Fantasy and Dragon Warrior lines.
On the whole, I for one don't really mind such "building up" of a character; it can be interesting and fun, if done right. Games like San Andreas have the player building up "stats" by simply doing what the stat concerns; I.E., to build up C.J.'s drive skill, the player simply drives a car often; to build up his pistol skill, the player simply uses a pistol more often. "True" R.P.G.s tend to have one obtain "experience points" in any number of ways, most often through combat, and sometimes those experience points can be alloted by the player, but not often.
I got to thinking about this trend, specifically where it concerns, for example, C.J.'s sex appeal. What I want in a future video game that's based on what I like to call "enhanced reality"--that is to say a game that tweaks believability relatively little (and Carl Johnson is more believable than, say, Cloud Strife)--is a truly open-ended sex appeal element. By that I mean that the player can not only enhance the character's sexual appeal, but also decide on what the character's sexuality is. I would like for the player to have the option of having their character be attracted to either gender, or both genders (I'm not going to get into the numerous ways gender can be defined or looked at; that isn't the purpose of this entry), or whatever. I would like for the player to decide that their character is homosexual, or heterosexual, asexual, and so forth.
I realize that with multiple-user games such as The Sims, Everquest, or whatever else, people can do whatever they want, just about literally. That's fine for those games, but I'm talking about single-person games. I want such things to be built into the story, if not directly then at least allowed by the game's creators in the mechanics they designed for the game. Just so we're clear, let's use some specific examples. In San Andreas, the player can have C.J. date up to six women, their reactions and such depending on a number of factors, but mostly on C.J.'s sex appeal. What I would like in a future game is the player having the option of dating up to, say, six people--period. No genders automatically specified. Instead, through decisions and actions of the player, the character can date exclusively one gender or another, or both.
I realize that I might not see such a thing in my lifetime. It would need--yes, need--a radical shift in the general paradigm of the United States for such a game to be allowed here (I can't, and thus won't, speak for other countries, but I'd be surprised if such a thing couldn't also be said for them). There is evidence of that shift happening, but it won't happen any time soon. I won't let this turn into a political/religious debate, but suffice to say that the way things are now, it won't happen anytime soon. Look at the furor that came about from the Grand Theft Auto line, especially the infamous "Hot Coffee" example from San Andreas.
I hope I do see such a thing in my lifetime, especially in a genre or line that I already enjoy. It would, I think, make the game accessible to more players, which would thus mean more revenue for the makers of the game. On top of that, it would let the player truly decide what they want their character to do, to be. I think that is something most gamers would want.
On the whole, I for one don't really mind such "building up" of a character; it can be interesting and fun, if done right. Games like San Andreas have the player building up "stats" by simply doing what the stat concerns; I.E., to build up C.J.'s drive skill, the player simply drives a car often; to build up his pistol skill, the player simply uses a pistol more often. "True" R.P.G.s tend to have one obtain "experience points" in any number of ways, most often through combat, and sometimes those experience points can be alloted by the player, but not often.
I got to thinking about this trend, specifically where it concerns, for example, C.J.'s sex appeal. What I want in a future video game that's based on what I like to call "enhanced reality"--that is to say a game that tweaks believability relatively little (and Carl Johnson is more believable than, say, Cloud Strife)--is a truly open-ended sex appeal element. By that I mean that the player can not only enhance the character's sexual appeal, but also decide on what the character's sexuality is. I would like for the player to have the option of having their character be attracted to either gender, or both genders (I'm not going to get into the numerous ways gender can be defined or looked at; that isn't the purpose of this entry), or whatever. I would like for the player to decide that their character is homosexual, or heterosexual, asexual, and so forth.
I realize that with multiple-user games such as The Sims, Everquest, or whatever else, people can do whatever they want, just about literally. That's fine for those games, but I'm talking about single-person games. I want such things to be built into the story, if not directly then at least allowed by the game's creators in the mechanics they designed for the game. Just so we're clear, let's use some specific examples. In San Andreas, the player can have C.J. date up to six women, their reactions and such depending on a number of factors, but mostly on C.J.'s sex appeal. What I would like in a future game is the player having the option of dating up to, say, six people--period. No genders automatically specified. Instead, through decisions and actions of the player, the character can date exclusively one gender or another, or both.
I realize that I might not see such a thing in my lifetime. It would need--yes, need--a radical shift in the general paradigm of the United States for such a game to be allowed here (I can't, and thus won't, speak for other countries, but I'd be surprised if such a thing couldn't also be said for them). There is evidence of that shift happening, but it won't happen any time soon. I won't let this turn into a political/religious debate, but suffice to say that the way things are now, it won't happen anytime soon. Look at the furor that came about from the Grand Theft Auto line, especially the infamous "Hot Coffee" example from San Andreas.
I hope I do see such a thing in my lifetime, especially in a genre or line that I already enjoy. It would, I think, make the game accessible to more players, which would thus mean more revenue for the makers of the game. On top of that, it would let the player truly decide what they want their character to do, to be. I think that is something most gamers would want.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Communities, "Group Mind", and Video Games
There's a lot of stigma about people who cheat in video games, whether using in-game cheats (the most common ones being the "button cheats", where the player presses the buttons of the controller/keyboard in a certain manner), or external devices such as the Gameshark or the Action Replay Max. In multiple-player games where players work against each other, I can understand this. After all, when you're working hard, you'd rather lose to someone who was genuinely more skilled than you. Being beaten by someone who is cheating is not only extremely rude, but obnoxious to boot.
What I don't understand is why people care if other players cheat in solo games. I admit to cheating; typically I'll beat a game first without cheats, then come back and wail on enemies or what-have-you while, say, being invincible. Also, however, cheating can aid game-play. A personal example is The Punisher for the P.S.2. There is one level near the end of the game that I just could not figure out how to beat, not at all, and it was becoming frustrating because I kept dying before getting anywhere near where I thought I was supposed to go. So, I popped in an infinite health cheat and replayed that level. After keeping track of how often I was hit and roaming around to figure out where I was supposed to go, I came up with a strategy. I replayed the level without cheating, and the strategy worked.
What I don't understand is why people seem to feel personally affronted when I say that. What's wrong with cheating to develop a strategy when a game is becoming frustrating? For that matter, what is wrong with beating a game without cheating, then coming back and cheating to one's heart's content? What I think it is, really, is that people think their version of "fun" is/should be the same for everyone else. What is not fun for them should not be fun for anyone else. I don't think it's always out of intentional malice, I really don't. I think it comes down to, mainly, not accepting that different people have different paradigms, and thus have different forms of "fun".
It's a lot like differing senses of humor, really. What one person finds downright hilarious, another person will find unworthy of even a chuckle. The interesting thing is that I don't think such attempts to make others believe in the same things are always intentionally rude or condescending. I think a good portion of it is, simply, not wanting to be "alone" in something, wanting to be part of a "group". In some cases, this "group" is of a perceived moral superiority--you have things like <this> organized religion saying they're the "right" one and everyone else is going to whatever "bad" after-life or another, or you have things like people believing that cheating in video games, in ways that affect no one else at all, are inherently "wrong".
I honestly think, on some level, it boils down to that group mentality. I also don't think that that is inherently a bad thing; after all, as human beings, we are social creatures. We were designed to be, whether you believe this came about via a certain deity, evolution, or chaos expressing itself in random ways. We, as a species, were meant to live with others. This means getting along with others, which in turn means sharing at least a decent portion of one's paradigm with said others. Before the introduction of communications and modes of travel which allowed us to visit places which were once deemed "far away", this wasn't a huge problem. People in this-or-that town, for example, shared enough views with each other that over all, life in the town was fair.
Then we entered the era of cheap mass communications, the most prevalent example being the internet. We can, now, speak with literally anyone in the entire world who has an internet connection, whether through forums, instant messaging programs, or whatever else. This has brought people of drastically differing paradigms together, without an easy way to tell who was "right". Before, whoever was "right" had the backing of most of the community, and to an extent this is true of on-line communities as well. Before, however, if one disagreed strongly enough and had the means/desire, they left the town and went to another one (yes, I'm simplifying things; allow me some hyperbole for the sake of making a point). Now, few people see the point of leaving their on-line community, and in truth many are large enough to house various "factions", or differing beliefs, all in the same community. This, perhaps counter-intuitively, leads one to not necessarily work to "get along" with the community at large.
There is, still, a desire to be part of the "group mind", but there are varying limits on how many people agreeing is "enough". For some, a small percentage of the community is "enough", as it allows them to seem "better" than others while still having people who agree and to agree with, while others require a larger percentage. This goes even for those who claim--not necessarily falsely--to "not care" what others think. One can genuinely not necessarily be trying to find a "group" to "belong" to yet still desire that "group mind". This isn't inherently a bad thing; for instance, on a forum devoted to video games, one might not necessarily care if someone thinks they're a jerk. However, they go to that forum to discuss video games, and they can't very well do that if most of the other users think they're nothing but a jerk.
I'm not talking about those deemed "trolls", people who seem to have nothing better to do but genuinely attempt to annoy others. I'm talking about people who have opinions that vary--perhaps wildly--from the majority of the on-line community and who do not attempt to hide those opinions (yet don't try and shove them down anyone's virtual throat, either). These people typically don't care if people think they're a jerk, but still desire a form of "group mind", to discuss whatever the group's "theme" is (video games, books, philosophy, or whatever else). These people still would like some percentage of the community to agree with them in some form or another, even if it's just something like, "I understand what you're saying, but I respectfully disagree". In a way, that's enough of an agreement for a "group mind", because it allows open communication.
I think that more people should think about things in that fashion. If they saw that so many things boiled down to attempts at being a part of some sense of "community", and allowing others to have their different paradigms while still being a part of the community (within reason, of course), I believe that that would lead to a deeper understanding of oneself. That, in turn, just might lead to a deeper understanding of the very communities to which we belong.
What I don't understand is why people care if other players cheat in solo games. I admit to cheating; typically I'll beat a game first without cheats, then come back and wail on enemies or what-have-you while, say, being invincible. Also, however, cheating can aid game-play. A personal example is The Punisher for the P.S.2. There is one level near the end of the game that I just could not figure out how to beat, not at all, and it was becoming frustrating because I kept dying before getting anywhere near where I thought I was supposed to go. So, I popped in an infinite health cheat and replayed that level. After keeping track of how often I was hit and roaming around to figure out where I was supposed to go, I came up with a strategy. I replayed the level without cheating, and the strategy worked.
What I don't understand is why people seem to feel personally affronted when I say that. What's wrong with cheating to develop a strategy when a game is becoming frustrating? For that matter, what is wrong with beating a game without cheating, then coming back and cheating to one's heart's content? What I think it is, really, is that people think their version of "fun" is/should be the same for everyone else. What is not fun for them should not be fun for anyone else. I don't think it's always out of intentional malice, I really don't. I think it comes down to, mainly, not accepting that different people have different paradigms, and thus have different forms of "fun".
It's a lot like differing senses of humor, really. What one person finds downright hilarious, another person will find unworthy of even a chuckle. The interesting thing is that I don't think such attempts to make others believe in the same things are always intentionally rude or condescending. I think a good portion of it is, simply, not wanting to be "alone" in something, wanting to be part of a "group". In some cases, this "group" is of a perceived moral superiority--you have things like <this> organized religion saying they're the "right" one and everyone else is going to whatever "bad" after-life or another, or you have things like people believing that cheating in video games, in ways that affect no one else at all, are inherently "wrong".
I honestly think, on some level, it boils down to that group mentality. I also don't think that that is inherently a bad thing; after all, as human beings, we are social creatures. We were designed to be, whether you believe this came about via a certain deity, evolution, or chaos expressing itself in random ways. We, as a species, were meant to live with others. This means getting along with others, which in turn means sharing at least a decent portion of one's paradigm with said others. Before the introduction of communications and modes of travel which allowed us to visit places which were once deemed "far away", this wasn't a huge problem. People in this-or-that town, for example, shared enough views with each other that over all, life in the town was fair.
Then we entered the era of cheap mass communications, the most prevalent example being the internet. We can, now, speak with literally anyone in the entire world who has an internet connection, whether through forums, instant messaging programs, or whatever else. This has brought people of drastically differing paradigms together, without an easy way to tell who was "right". Before, whoever was "right" had the backing of most of the community, and to an extent this is true of on-line communities as well. Before, however, if one disagreed strongly enough and had the means/desire, they left the town and went to another one (yes, I'm simplifying things; allow me some hyperbole for the sake of making a point). Now, few people see the point of leaving their on-line community, and in truth many are large enough to house various "factions", or differing beliefs, all in the same community. This, perhaps counter-intuitively, leads one to not necessarily work to "get along" with the community at large.
There is, still, a desire to be part of the "group mind", but there are varying limits on how many people agreeing is "enough". For some, a small percentage of the community is "enough", as it allows them to seem "better" than others while still having people who agree and to agree with, while others require a larger percentage. This goes even for those who claim--not necessarily falsely--to "not care" what others think. One can genuinely not necessarily be trying to find a "group" to "belong" to yet still desire that "group mind". This isn't inherently a bad thing; for instance, on a forum devoted to video games, one might not necessarily care if someone thinks they're a jerk. However, they go to that forum to discuss video games, and they can't very well do that if most of the other users think they're nothing but a jerk.
I'm not talking about those deemed "trolls", people who seem to have nothing better to do but genuinely attempt to annoy others. I'm talking about people who have opinions that vary--perhaps wildly--from the majority of the on-line community and who do not attempt to hide those opinions (yet don't try and shove them down anyone's virtual throat, either). These people typically don't care if people think they're a jerk, but still desire a form of "group mind", to discuss whatever the group's "theme" is (video games, books, philosophy, or whatever else). These people still would like some percentage of the community to agree with them in some form or another, even if it's just something like, "I understand what you're saying, but I respectfully disagree". In a way, that's enough of an agreement for a "group mind", because it allows open communication.
I think that more people should think about things in that fashion. If they saw that so many things boiled down to attempts at being a part of some sense of "community", and allowing others to have their different paradigms while still being a part of the community (within reason, of course), I believe that that would lead to a deeper understanding of oneself. That, in turn, just might lead to a deeper understanding of the very communities to which we belong.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Where Is the Comedy in Modern Comedy Movies?
The movie Elf is on C.B.S. at the moment, and I took a glance at it. Will Ferrell is no different in this movie--in short, he isn't funny. I confess to being a fan of older movies in general, and by "older movies" I speak of the decades when actors such as James Cagney, James Stewart, and Cary Grant were in their hey-day, and movies such as Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street, It's a Wonderful Life, and Johnny Come Lately were either just out or still in the public's recent memories. Heck, Johnny Come Lately vies to be my favorite movie of all time.
I'm a devout fan of the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, but modern so-called comedy tends to make me yawn. This is because the best comedy is the sort that doesn't realize it's funny. For example, the comedy team of George Burns and Gracie Allen. They were hilarious, because Gracie's character never tried to be funny. Whenever George asked her a question, whatever nonsense came out was truly believed, which is why the fact that it was nonsense was so hysterical. On top of that, the comedy of yester-year was more intelligent; by that I mean that if the Three Stooges were slapping each other about, there was a reason for it beyond "it's funny". Larry, Curly, Curly Joe, and/or Shemp did something and did it so incredibly wrong that Moe was utterly incensed--and that intelligent reason combined with a "straight" reaction made their antics so hilarious.
I think that a lot of modern comedy is actually insulting; with everything done to tell you that this-or-that is funny, about the only thing they don't do is show neon signs, blinking "LAUGH". Consider the "surprise" of a character stumbling, say, on the stereotypical marbles. There's no reason for it, there's no set-up for it, the character just happens across marbles that doesn't affect anything but the moment when he stumbles about and finally ends up on his keister. I can sit through a dozen of those things without cracking so much as a smile. Or consider the over-acting many modern comedy actors force upon the audience. Something isn't simply distasteful, oh no--it's so horribly, utterly bad that they scream and rant and rave and flail their arms and run around in circles before falling on the ground and shaking like they're having an epileptic fit. How is that funny, again?
I can appreciate that other people's senses of humor finds such things funny. I just wonder why so few people realize what an insult these forms of "comedy" are at the same time. The makers of these movies aren't trusting that the audience accepts that something is funny, instead over-hyping it to make it Funny to the Extreme; or they decide that a custard pie to the face, just that act, is funny so have a random custard pie hitting someone in the face without rhyme or reason because, by gosh, custard pies are funny and you're watching a comedy movie. A lack of subtlety and lightness of application in today's comedy shows that the film-makers don't think the audience would "get" such things, and I for one find that somewhat distressing--what will comedy movies be like in the future? Will there be even a semblance of reason, or will there be simply random shots of "funny" things happening to people?
I can appreciate that different people have different senses of humor, but I find it irksome that there isn't more of an appeal made to those of us who like the style of comedy that came before. Without copying the "greats", I think that there should be more of an attempt at subtle humor, intelligent humor--and I'd bet that if such an attempt was made, more people would watch those movies. Media's history has proven that the audience is rarely as dumb as the studios and film-makers think, so while there would always be a desire for such comedies the likes of which Wil Ferrell stars in, I think there would also be a desire for hints of Cary Grant. If only one or two of the "big name" film-makers would make such a movie. I'll be first in line at the theater.
I'm a devout fan of the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, but modern so-called comedy tends to make me yawn. This is because the best comedy is the sort that doesn't realize it's funny. For example, the comedy team of George Burns and Gracie Allen. They were hilarious, because Gracie's character never tried to be funny. Whenever George asked her a question, whatever nonsense came out was truly believed, which is why the fact that it was nonsense was so hysterical. On top of that, the comedy of yester-year was more intelligent; by that I mean that if the Three Stooges were slapping each other about, there was a reason for it beyond "it's funny". Larry, Curly, Curly Joe, and/or Shemp did something and did it so incredibly wrong that Moe was utterly incensed--and that intelligent reason combined with a "straight" reaction made their antics so hilarious.
I think that a lot of modern comedy is actually insulting; with everything done to tell you that this-or-that is funny, about the only thing they don't do is show neon signs, blinking "LAUGH". Consider the "surprise" of a character stumbling, say, on the stereotypical marbles. There's no reason for it, there's no set-up for it, the character just happens across marbles that doesn't affect anything but the moment when he stumbles about and finally ends up on his keister. I can sit through a dozen of those things without cracking so much as a smile. Or consider the over-acting many modern comedy actors force upon the audience. Something isn't simply distasteful, oh no--it's so horribly, utterly bad that they scream and rant and rave and flail their arms and run around in circles before falling on the ground and shaking like they're having an epileptic fit. How is that funny, again?
I can appreciate that other people's senses of humor finds such things funny. I just wonder why so few people realize what an insult these forms of "comedy" are at the same time. The makers of these movies aren't trusting that the audience accepts that something is funny, instead over-hyping it to make it Funny to the Extreme; or they decide that a custard pie to the face, just that act, is funny so have a random custard pie hitting someone in the face without rhyme or reason because, by gosh, custard pies are funny and you're watching a comedy movie. A lack of subtlety and lightness of application in today's comedy shows that the film-makers don't think the audience would "get" such things, and I for one find that somewhat distressing--what will comedy movies be like in the future? Will there be even a semblance of reason, or will there be simply random shots of "funny" things happening to people?
I can appreciate that different people have different senses of humor, but I find it irksome that there isn't more of an appeal made to those of us who like the style of comedy that came before. Without copying the "greats", I think that there should be more of an attempt at subtle humor, intelligent humor--and I'd bet that if such an attempt was made, more people would watch those movies. Media's history has proven that the audience is rarely as dumb as the studios and film-makers think, so while there would always be a desire for such comedies the likes of which Wil Ferrell stars in, I think there would also be a desire for hints of Cary Grant. If only one or two of the "big name" film-makers would make such a movie. I'll be first in line at the theater.
Friday, December 15, 2006
All I Want for Christmas is the Sony I Used to Know
As comes as absolutely no surprise to anyone who has a connection to the internet and even a passing interest in technology, Sony got busted for AllIWantForXmasIsAPSP, originally put forth as a blog by "Charlie" in an attempt to give readers "all the hype" about the P.S.P. so they can "wage a holiday assault" and get a P.S.P. for Christmas. Heck, Penny Arcade did a comic and news post about it.
Me--I'm going to shake my head dejectedly, but not for Sony's attempts to bilk potential customers. Hell, if I wanted to do that, I'd shake my head over the whole H.D.T.V. cable mess that started going around a few months ago, or just over the seemingly-insane six hundred dollar price tag on the P.S.3 alone. I'm going to shake my head because this isn't the Sony I used to know. The Sony I used to know sold this small radio-slash-tape-deck stereo back in the mid-'Eighties. Even at the time, it couldn't have cost more than twenty dollars or so; this was nowhere near a top-of-the-line machine, by any standard.
That stereo has been dropped more often than I can remember, once from a height of about five feet or so, onto bare cement. Didn't even crack. In fact, about twenty years later, I still have the thing, and it actually works. The sound's a bit warbly, especially in one speaker, and I'm not entirely sure I'd trust it to play a tape, but the radio works just fine--even without an antenna. That was a product that lived up to the brand-image Sony was putting out there. Same thing with my original Playstation--not even the compact P.S.1, but the original, large, dark-grey Playstation. Thing still works, and it's a second-generation model, if memory serves. I became, really, a "Sony fan-boy" because of those, mainly because of that little stereo. If they can make a product like this, the reasoning went, that lasted forever, how awesome must their other products be?
The problem I have, really, with their recent acts of attempted chicanery is that I'm not surprised. After the P.S.2 came out, for a good while afterward there were talks of its laser dying after a comparably short amount of time. That happens, though, so while I noticed it I didn't pay it much mind. Then the Slim version came out. The average complaint was that it overheated quickly--as in after a half-hour of operation. I scrunched my nose at that, and tried to put it out of my mind. That proved fruitless when came the news that not only was the Dual Shock lost due to a lawsuit--Microsoft settled out of court, Sony battled and lost, then turned around and said that the P.S.3 controllers are not going to have vibration capabilities due to incompatibility with the tilt and rotate abilities. Not only does this fly in the face of common sense when the Wii did it with their remote, but Immersion (the company who sued and won against Sony) President Victor Viegas flat-out disbelieved it--and I really don't blame him.
What happened to the Sony I remember? What happened to the Sony who made quality products that lasted damn-near forever, and making their brand name nearly synonymous with quality work and good customer service? That's the Sony I remember, and that's the Sony I want back. As a self-proclaimed gamer, feeling like I've been shafted by Sony is rather insulting--especially as I can't really turn to either of the other companies for my gaming needs. Beside the fact that I'm used to the Dual Shock controller to the point of using it completely without needing to think about it, they have most of the companies who make the games I play. A few titles from Nintendo, and very few titles from Microsoft--that isn't enough for me to purchase their systems.
So where are gamers like me left as Sony continues its descent? Where are the people who defended Sony--not in the manner of fools and trolls, but intelligently and faithfully, accepting flaws but believing in underlying trustworthiness--left, now that Sony's detractors are being proven right? Where are we left?
Me--I'm going to shake my head dejectedly, but not for Sony's attempts to bilk potential customers. Hell, if I wanted to do that, I'd shake my head over the whole H.D.T.V. cable mess that started going around a few months ago, or just over the seemingly-insane six hundred dollar price tag on the P.S.3 alone. I'm going to shake my head because this isn't the Sony I used to know. The Sony I used to know sold this small radio-slash-tape-deck stereo back in the mid-'Eighties. Even at the time, it couldn't have cost more than twenty dollars or so; this was nowhere near a top-of-the-line machine, by any standard.
That stereo has been dropped more often than I can remember, once from a height of about five feet or so, onto bare cement. Didn't even crack. In fact, about twenty years later, I still have the thing, and it actually works. The sound's a bit warbly, especially in one speaker, and I'm not entirely sure I'd trust it to play a tape, but the radio works just fine--even without an antenna. That was a product that lived up to the brand-image Sony was putting out there. Same thing with my original Playstation--not even the compact P.S.1, but the original, large, dark-grey Playstation. Thing still works, and it's a second-generation model, if memory serves. I became, really, a "Sony fan-boy" because of those, mainly because of that little stereo. If they can make a product like this, the reasoning went, that lasted forever, how awesome must their other products be?
The problem I have, really, with their recent acts of attempted chicanery is that I'm not surprised. After the P.S.2 came out, for a good while afterward there were talks of its laser dying after a comparably short amount of time. That happens, though, so while I noticed it I didn't pay it much mind. Then the Slim version came out. The average complaint was that it overheated quickly--as in after a half-hour of operation. I scrunched my nose at that, and tried to put it out of my mind. That proved fruitless when came the news that not only was the Dual Shock lost due to a lawsuit--Microsoft settled out of court, Sony battled and lost, then turned around and said that the P.S.3 controllers are not going to have vibration capabilities due to incompatibility with the tilt and rotate abilities. Not only does this fly in the face of common sense when the Wii did it with their remote, but Immersion (the company who sued and won against Sony) President Victor Viegas flat-out disbelieved it--and I really don't blame him.
What happened to the Sony I remember? What happened to the Sony who made quality products that lasted damn-near forever, and making their brand name nearly synonymous with quality work and good customer service? That's the Sony I remember, and that's the Sony I want back. As a self-proclaimed gamer, feeling like I've been shafted by Sony is rather insulting--especially as I can't really turn to either of the other companies for my gaming needs. Beside the fact that I'm used to the Dual Shock controller to the point of using it completely without needing to think about it, they have most of the companies who make the games I play. A few titles from Nintendo, and very few titles from Microsoft--that isn't enough for me to purchase their systems.
So where are gamers like me left as Sony continues its descent? Where are the people who defended Sony--not in the manner of fools and trolls, but intelligently and faithfully, accepting flaws but believing in underlying trustworthiness--left, now that Sony's detractors are being proven right? Where are we left?
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Wikipedia is Inherently Flawed
I realize that "dissing" Wikipedia is the "in-thing" these days, and I also realize that people have done it, even if about specific topics, better than I have. There are also other articles out there that deal with the issue. So I suppose I'm just going to add to them.
I have been leery of Wikipedia since its inception; you cannot expect a web-site (and I refuse to call it anything else; I definitely will not call it an encyclopedia) that allows anyone, up to and including users that don't even have to sign up for a free account name, to alter its content and expect much but chaos or mob rule. I shan't throw out such axioms as "most people are stupid", or "common sense isn't so common". I will, however, point to one simple truth: Everyone is different. Not exactly earth-shattering, I realize, but bear with me.
Differences in people means differences in paradigms, which means differences in perceptions--such as the perceived validity of a topic and whether said topic should be expounded or merely touched upon. What one person finds interesting and worthy of lengthy detail another person will not. That second person may even wonder why such a thing needs to be anything but barely mentioned in another section. Then you get into the archetypal "edit wars", the extremes of which have people editing and re-editing for hours, if not days.
Then you have, as others have mentioned, situations where someone works on something, perfecting every minute detail about it, only to wake up the next morning and find it ruined--or, worse, simply gone. That has made some simply give up on Wikipedia, and made others feel dejected, like their entire effort was a true waste. The problem is that Wikipedia isn't truly governed by mob rule--that would only help, as there would then be some sort of governing body in place, and thus some sort of structure and rules held to (that couldn't be altered by any random person). What Wikipedia is ruled by is barely-contained chaos, with only the lightest of structures. "Cliques" form and protect their own, while letting the other "cliques" go hang, for all it matters.
Even already believing all of that, I signed up for an account over a year ago anyway. It's one thing to dislike something on premise, but until one actually experiences something, it can't really be argued one way or another (within reason, of course). So, I'd spent my time learning the basics, altering articles, having "discussions" on edits, and so on and so forth.
I witnessed my cautions given form in ways even I had not imagined. Unless and until servers become incredibly expensive, there shouldn't be a need to delete anything. I refuse to believe that Wikipedia is really that hard-up for cash, either. It logically stands that such cannot be the case--if it were, there would be a harder "push" to garner donations, and there would have been other recourses pursued. As has been pointed out elsewhere, text doesn't exactly take up a lot of space; and if it really became necessary, just simplify the pages themselves and ditch the pictures.
On top of that, there is a notorious penchant for disregarding what is said when it is disagreed with. For example, let's say that Person A creates an article. Person B disagrees with its content on, perhaps, a factual basis. Person A refuses to concede and so either an edit-war starts, or others are called in and most say the same thing: "Compromise." I have a big problem with that--there are times when compromising isn't the answer. There are times where one side is clearly wrong, yet I have personally seen displays of what can only be called passive-aggression; better to concede the battle in order to, perceptually, win the war. Instead of conceding that one is flat wrong on a topic--of any importance--there is this overwhelming tendency to compromise on anything. That leads to at best misleading entries, and at worst flat-out lies.
Here's where I should come up with some "solutions" for how to fix the Wikipedia "problem". And as a matter of fact, I do have some ideas. For one thing, completely ditch the anyone-can-edit strategy. That's flawed. For another, specialize. I have seen some well-structured "Wikis" out there that focused on only one or two rather specific areas. By "specific" I mean things like for certain television shows, certain book series, and so on. Yes, they have their fair share of problems, but in my experience the problems are fewer and of a less-serious nature. Two people disagree, they go to a common source and work it out, sometimes with one side admitting error.
So, yes, specification would be a step in the right direction. In concurrence, there should be restrictions on just who can edit and/or how much they can edit. Borrowing heavily from Jason Scott, I believe that a B.B.S.-style system of "tenure" would help immensely. When a newcomer first signs up, they aren't allowed any editing, or perhaps only very limited editing. They are watched, and talked with, and over a period of time are given more and more responsibility and trust, until they come into position where they, then, can watch over newcomers, so on and so forth.
As it stands right now, everything-and-anything data collection with an anyone-can-do-anything mentality only serves to hamper what might otherwise be a really good project. The combination of, ceding to authority (per Eric Burns' suggestion), a tier-style format of users, and specialization of data-gathering would, I believe, produce a series of projects that people could generally and genuinely enjoy being associated with. As it stands right now, however, Wikipedia is a living testament to why groups of people working together need rigid, immutable rules and structure.
Until such rules and structure are in place, people like myself will turn away, shaking our heads for "what might have been".
I have been leery of Wikipedia since its inception; you cannot expect a web-site (and I refuse to call it anything else; I definitely will not call it an encyclopedia) that allows anyone, up to and including users that don't even have to sign up for a free account name, to alter its content and expect much but chaos or mob rule. I shan't throw out such axioms as "most people are stupid", or "common sense isn't so common". I will, however, point to one simple truth: Everyone is different. Not exactly earth-shattering, I realize, but bear with me.
Differences in people means differences in paradigms, which means differences in perceptions--such as the perceived validity of a topic and whether said topic should be expounded or merely touched upon. What one person finds interesting and worthy of lengthy detail another person will not. That second person may even wonder why such a thing needs to be anything but barely mentioned in another section. Then you get into the archetypal "edit wars", the extremes of which have people editing and re-editing for hours, if not days.
Then you have, as others have mentioned, situations where someone works on something, perfecting every minute detail about it, only to wake up the next morning and find it ruined--or, worse, simply gone. That has made some simply give up on Wikipedia, and made others feel dejected, like their entire effort was a true waste. The problem is that Wikipedia isn't truly governed by mob rule--that would only help, as there would then be some sort of governing body in place, and thus some sort of structure and rules held to (that couldn't be altered by any random person). What Wikipedia is ruled by is barely-contained chaos, with only the lightest of structures. "Cliques" form and protect their own, while letting the other "cliques" go hang, for all it matters.
Even already believing all of that, I signed up for an account over a year ago anyway. It's one thing to dislike something on premise, but until one actually experiences something, it can't really be argued one way or another (within reason, of course). So, I'd spent my time learning the basics, altering articles, having "discussions" on edits, and so on and so forth.
I witnessed my cautions given form in ways even I had not imagined. Unless and until servers become incredibly expensive, there shouldn't be a need to delete anything. I refuse to believe that Wikipedia is really that hard-up for cash, either. It logically stands that such cannot be the case--if it were, there would be a harder "push" to garner donations, and there would have been other recourses pursued. As has been pointed out elsewhere, text doesn't exactly take up a lot of space; and if it really became necessary, just simplify the pages themselves and ditch the pictures.
On top of that, there is a notorious penchant for disregarding what is said when it is disagreed with. For example, let's say that Person A creates an article. Person B disagrees with its content on, perhaps, a factual basis. Person A refuses to concede and so either an edit-war starts, or others are called in and most say the same thing: "Compromise." I have a big problem with that--there are times when compromising isn't the answer. There are times where one side is clearly wrong, yet I have personally seen displays of what can only be called passive-aggression; better to concede the battle in order to, perceptually, win the war. Instead of conceding that one is flat wrong on a topic--of any importance--there is this overwhelming tendency to compromise on anything. That leads to at best misleading entries, and at worst flat-out lies.
Here's where I should come up with some "solutions" for how to fix the Wikipedia "problem". And as a matter of fact, I do have some ideas. For one thing, completely ditch the anyone-can-edit strategy. That's flawed. For another, specialize. I have seen some well-structured "Wikis" out there that focused on only one or two rather specific areas. By "specific" I mean things like for certain television shows, certain book series, and so on. Yes, they have their fair share of problems, but in my experience the problems are fewer and of a less-serious nature. Two people disagree, they go to a common source and work it out, sometimes with one side admitting error.
So, yes, specification would be a step in the right direction. In concurrence, there should be restrictions on just who can edit and/or how much they can edit. Borrowing heavily from Jason Scott, I believe that a B.B.S.-style system of "tenure" would help immensely. When a newcomer first signs up, they aren't allowed any editing, or perhaps only very limited editing. They are watched, and talked with, and over a period of time are given more and more responsibility and trust, until they come into position where they, then, can watch over newcomers, so on and so forth.
As it stands right now, everything-and-anything data collection with an anyone-can-do-anything mentality only serves to hamper what might otherwise be a really good project. The combination of, ceding to authority (per Eric Burns' suggestion), a tier-style format of users, and specialization of data-gathering would, I believe, produce a series of projects that people could generally and genuinely enjoy being associated with. As it stands right now, however, Wikipedia is a living testament to why groups of people working together need rigid, immutable rules and structure.
Until such rules and structure are in place, people like myself will turn away, shaking our heads for "what might have been".
Mediocre Gamers in Today's Video Game World
Does anyone remember when video games catered to the mediocre gamer as well as the "hard core" gamer? When you had different difficulty settings, and when you chose one you still got the full game "experience"? Examples that comes to mind are Spider-Man and Spider-Man 2: Enter Electro, both action/adventure games for the Playstation. You chose your difficulty and played, not missing a single bit of content. The difficulty changed the damage you dealt and received, and that was pretty much it. Other forms of how different difficulty was handled were things like how the A.I. of enemies were dealt with; an easier difficulty setting meant that enemies were, generally, dumber. You could sneak up on them more easily, for instance (even if the game in question wasn't strictly a stealth-based game), or could fool them more easily, or you could watch as the enemy blundered into a problem, or whatever else.
It seems to me that this sort of allowance for the differing skill in players started to end when the Grand Theft Auto series was introduced to the Playstation 2, starting with Grand Theft Auto III. When it came out, the notion of different forms of difficulty in game-play was handled in a rather new manner--just racing through the storyline was comparably easier than doing what it took to get the secret items, things like the "hidden packages". To be sure, the difference in difficulty between running around, getting secret packages, and the main storyline was a marginal one, and at the time it was seen as little more than somewhat intriguing.
However, that has led to the way modern games handle such things--which is to say, not at all. Modern games rarely allow for the mediocre players, instead seeming to cater to the players who grasp concepts instantaneously, who can remember complex button combinations with ease. Let us take a look into the history of another genre of games, the R.P.G. genre which has as its arguable most famous example the Final Fantasy series. As a quick overview of the genre, the player ran around, killing things or completing quests and earning experience points. Once a certain number of experience points were accumulated, one gained a level. Typically, gaining levels also meant gaining points in certain "stats", such as strength, speed, and so on.
Early on, almost anything could be met if one were of sufficient "level"; if you couldn't beat this-or-that enemy, then you would wait a while, earn a lot of experience points, and then come back and try again. Once you reached the fabled "maximum level" (usually, but not always, level ninety-nine), you could rampage through most of the game without much fear of meeting an enemy who could stop you.
Then things started to change. Instead of having to merely wait a while and gain levels, you would have to also master certain skills (usually by putting some form of points into them, earned in similar fashions as one earned experience points); if you didn't know such-and-such skill, you couldn't defeat an enemy who was only weak to that skill, no matter your "level". You could be maximum level, but if you didn't have a specific skill, that level, and all it enhanced on your character(s), was nearly useless.
This was also seen as little more than somewhat intriguing. After all, all a player needed was, really, time, and they could have the skill mastered. Really, about all it did at first was add on more time to the playability of a game, which wasn't seen as a bad thing.
Things started to change further, however. In addition to needing to know what skill was going to be useful, one needed to have a sense of tactics. It was no longer a matter of having the patience to gain levels and master skills. R.P.G. games were evolving to need the player to have a sense of what skill to use, when, and for how long. It was no longer enough to know that <this> enemy was weak against <that> skill; now <this> enemy was weak to <that> skill, but only in certain circumstances--and what those circumstances were was often the result of specific things the player needed to do.
Another result in this change of perception toward difficulty is a change of perception. Where, once, games had said you did a good job and suggested that, next time, you might wish to try playing on a higher difficulty setting, now they seemingly taunt players. I refer to the rare game that even has a difficulty selection; these games usually have the easiest setting called "kid mode" or some similar, implying that the sort of player who needs this is little better than a small child. Early games that used this sort of label managed to get away with it--and at the same time, to insult players--by "suggesting" that the setting was best for young children, and/or those inexperienced in the game's genre (or video games in general).
Look at modern games, and you will see that it is the very, very rare video game that has a difficulty setting and allows a player, no matter the setting, full access to the "full experience". Look at the modern games, and you will find that the mediocre player is all but laughed at. After completing some video games, players who played on easier settings will be taunted and told that, if they wish to "prove themselves", they need to play on a higher setting.
Further, in the games that "hide" things--items, messages, whatever--upon completion they will be told that they didn't really get the "full experience" because they didn't get such-and-such items. It is becoming increasingly difficult, however, to obtain these items; many times, lately, some items can only be obtained once, in an all-or-nothing situation--and I for one increasingly find that items are hidden in such a way where you nearly literally have to know how to obtain them beforehand in order to obtain them.
In another post, I will mention the possible effects this sort of thing has on creating a "gaming community", but for now let me keep to the effect it has on the mediocre gamers. It makes the mediocre gamers feel like they are, somehow, inexplicably "less" of a gamer for not being able to obtain the "secrets", and what kind of a message does that send? Not a very good one, I say.
I think there needs to be a return to allowance for the mediocre gamers. I think that, while games catering to the "hard core" gamers are just fine, there also needs to be a selection of video games for the mediocre gamers that doesn't make those players feel insulted. Mediocre players shouldn't have to be relegated to the hand-held systems' effectively "dumbed-down" games because the "main" games were designed to be too difficult (and there is a major difference between "difficulty" and a "challenge", which I'll get to in another post).
That, I think, will only help the makers of video games. If they did that, if they published games that allowed for a scale of player skill, I believe that they would enjoy more of a following of players. As it stands right now, with all of the negative news about the various consoles, the mediocre gamers don't have much incentive to wade through the console-side nonsense. For every video game that offered a "full experience", no matter the player's skill, I believe that the publishers would find players in fact wading through the nonsense to play those games.
Unfortunately, however, I do not foresee such a thing in the near future. I can, however, hope.
It seems to me that this sort of allowance for the differing skill in players started to end when the Grand Theft Auto series was introduced to the Playstation 2, starting with Grand Theft Auto III. When it came out, the notion of different forms of difficulty in game-play was handled in a rather new manner--just racing through the storyline was comparably easier than doing what it took to get the secret items, things like the "hidden packages". To be sure, the difference in difficulty between running around, getting secret packages, and the main storyline was a marginal one, and at the time it was seen as little more than somewhat intriguing.
However, that has led to the way modern games handle such things--which is to say, not at all. Modern games rarely allow for the mediocre players, instead seeming to cater to the players who grasp concepts instantaneously, who can remember complex button combinations with ease. Let us take a look into the history of another genre of games, the R.P.G. genre which has as its arguable most famous example the Final Fantasy series. As a quick overview of the genre, the player ran around, killing things or completing quests and earning experience points. Once a certain number of experience points were accumulated, one gained a level. Typically, gaining levels also meant gaining points in certain "stats", such as strength, speed, and so on.
Early on, almost anything could be met if one were of sufficient "level"; if you couldn't beat this-or-that enemy, then you would wait a while, earn a lot of experience points, and then come back and try again. Once you reached the fabled "maximum level" (usually, but not always, level ninety-nine), you could rampage through most of the game without much fear of meeting an enemy who could stop you.
Then things started to change. Instead of having to merely wait a while and gain levels, you would have to also master certain skills (usually by putting some form of points into them, earned in similar fashions as one earned experience points); if you didn't know such-and-such skill, you couldn't defeat an enemy who was only weak to that skill, no matter your "level". You could be maximum level, but if you didn't have a specific skill, that level, and all it enhanced on your character(s), was nearly useless.
This was also seen as little more than somewhat intriguing. After all, all a player needed was, really, time, and they could have the skill mastered. Really, about all it did at first was add on more time to the playability of a game, which wasn't seen as a bad thing.
Things started to change further, however. In addition to needing to know what skill was going to be useful, one needed to have a sense of tactics. It was no longer a matter of having the patience to gain levels and master skills. R.P.G. games were evolving to need the player to have a sense of what skill to use, when, and for how long. It was no longer enough to know that <this> enemy was weak against <that> skill; now <this> enemy was weak to <that> skill, but only in certain circumstances--and what those circumstances were was often the result of specific things the player needed to do.
Another result in this change of perception toward difficulty is a change of perception. Where, once, games had said you did a good job and suggested that, next time, you might wish to try playing on a higher difficulty setting, now they seemingly taunt players. I refer to the rare game that even has a difficulty selection; these games usually have the easiest setting called "kid mode" or some similar, implying that the sort of player who needs this is little better than a small child. Early games that used this sort of label managed to get away with it--and at the same time, to insult players--by "suggesting" that the setting was best for young children, and/or those inexperienced in the game's genre (or video games in general).
Look at modern games, and you will see that it is the very, very rare video game that has a difficulty setting and allows a player, no matter the setting, full access to the "full experience". Look at the modern games, and you will find that the mediocre player is all but laughed at. After completing some video games, players who played on easier settings will be taunted and told that, if they wish to "prove themselves", they need to play on a higher setting.
Further, in the games that "hide" things--items, messages, whatever--upon completion they will be told that they didn't really get the "full experience" because they didn't get such-and-such items. It is becoming increasingly difficult, however, to obtain these items; many times, lately, some items can only be obtained once, in an all-or-nothing situation--and I for one increasingly find that items are hidden in such a way where you nearly literally have to know how to obtain them beforehand in order to obtain them.
In another post, I will mention the possible effects this sort of thing has on creating a "gaming community", but for now let me keep to the effect it has on the mediocre gamers. It makes the mediocre gamers feel like they are, somehow, inexplicably "less" of a gamer for not being able to obtain the "secrets", and what kind of a message does that send? Not a very good one, I say.
I think there needs to be a return to allowance for the mediocre gamers. I think that, while games catering to the "hard core" gamers are just fine, there also needs to be a selection of video games for the mediocre gamers that doesn't make those players feel insulted. Mediocre players shouldn't have to be relegated to the hand-held systems' effectively "dumbed-down" games because the "main" games were designed to be too difficult (and there is a major difference between "difficulty" and a "challenge", which I'll get to in another post).
That, I think, will only help the makers of video games. If they did that, if they published games that allowed for a scale of player skill, I believe that they would enjoy more of a following of players. As it stands right now, with all of the negative news about the various consoles, the mediocre gamers don't have much incentive to wade through the console-side nonsense. For every video game that offered a "full experience", no matter the player's skill, I believe that the publishers would find players in fact wading through the nonsense to play those games.
Unfortunately, however, I do not foresee such a thing in the near future. I can, however, hope.
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