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[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.

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.

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.

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?

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".

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.