First, what spawned this train of thoughts:
A while ago, I read a whole buttload of Escapist articles concerning objectification of women in video games. What struck me was the division between how male and female authors addressed the problem. The female authors were, in general, arguing that there should be more non-sexualized women in video games, to give female players someone to identify with that wasn't a man. The men, on the other hand, were generally arguing that, to even the score, there should be more sexualized male characters. In this case, I think the female authors are in the right, and the male authors were sort of missing the point - but it spawned a semi-related train of thoughts in my mind.
The full train of thoughts is quite long, as these things tend to be, and there's no way for me to write down my full reasoning in a concise manner, but here's the gist of it:
Jean-Paul Sartre argued that human interaction, by necessity, involves a degree of objectifying. We can't always perceive the full scope of humanity in everyone in our surroundings, so there is a need to objectify, to simplify. The cashier at a supermarket is a good example: Of course, if you start a conversation with her, you'll find out that she's a human being with as much depth as anyone else, but most of the time, we regard her as a bit player: A minor NPC, without any real humanity - much like the ever-present Vendor guys in computer games. (Sartre was a cynic, so his argument was actually that objectification is the only possible mode of human interaction, but I sorta disagree with that. Nonetheless.)
Sartre further argued that to be on the wrong end of this objectifying process isn't very pleasant. We don't want to be treated as objects by other people, we want them to see the way we truly are - rich, complex human beings. Ultimately, we don't want to be judged. This is what led him to coin the famous phrase "Hell is other people".
Now, who objectifies whom obviously becomes a question of power. It is convenient for me to objectify you, but it is unpleasant for you to be objectified. The obvious solution is clearly for us both to treat each other as human beings and not do any objectifyin' of any sort. Unfortunately this is sort of a Prisoners' Dilemma situation. You can treat me with all the respect you want, and I can still be a total dickhead and treat you like a vending machine/microwave/sex toy/whatever.
The second-best solution would be for both of us to objectify each other - this is what ties back into the male authors' solution to the Girls In Videogames problem. It's not a good solution, but it's at least a solution - both you and me have to endure some discomfort, but at least the situation is fair. Unfortunately, this is a bit of an unrealistic solution. We don't like being objectified, so we will try to do stuff to prove our humanity, our agency - and if given power, we can enforce this humanity, this agency, over people. Such power can be established bluntly, e.g. through violence, or subtly - consider the stereotypical seductress. Often objectified in the media, certainly, but in reality she is very clearly exerting power over and objectifying her target, having no genuine interest in him as a person; merely turning him into an instrument of her will. [I apologize for the gender role and heteronormativity here, but you get my point].
In videogames, this hierarchy is clear. A guy who is offended by being put in the tight pants of a sexy bishounen can just go back to playing God of War; a girl who is offended by being squeezed into a minimal bikini can... play God of War, I guess. But you've heard these arguments before.
Nonetheless, sexuality and intimacy are pretty complicated subjects. There's a lot of objectifying and a lot of vulnerability being thrown around, and a deep amount of trust and respect needed to pull it off. It isn't strange that we would want to objectify people in the contest of sex. We want to look, we want to touch, we want to judge - but we're afraid of being looked at, of being touched, and most of all, of being judged. So we pretend that there isn't a person with his or her own thoughts doing all the looking and touching.
And here's what I'm actually getting at, namely some self-psychoanalysis: This is probably the reason why I was so afraid of women for much of my youth. I was afraid of the female agency - afraid of being reduced to something less than I was*. I think, despite what our macho culture claims, that many, many other men are afraid of this as well.
The prospect that a woman would think "I don't care who he is, I want to screw him" might superficially seem pleasant to the stereotypical man, but here's the catch: Men are used to being the subject in a sexual situation. The man who behaves like the Hollywood man is thinking through a filter in which he is the actor, and the woman doesn't really want to use him, she wants to be used by him.
The thought that it could be the other way around never even enters Hollywood Guy's mind. If someone tries to convince him of it, he would just grin and say that it's mutual.
But sometimes it isn't. Sometimes a woman really is in power. And to be confronted with the thought that all your ideas and dreams and hopes are insubstantial - that all that really matters about you can be reduced to one tiny, insignificant detail like how much money you make or what you have between your legs - that is a deeply disturbing thought, no matter what you happen to have there.
----
*Just to be clear here: Was I, as a teenage boy, afraid that women would only be interested in me for sex? No. Not strictly speaking. But I was afraid that women would see me as something less than a person. It's not so much which object you're being reduced to as it is the fact that you're not being seen for what you are.
onsdag 22 februari 2012
måndag 6 februari 2012
Better Days of a Defender of the Innocent Youth
So we saw a documentary on the youth magazine "Okej" from the 1980s. A guy was railing against the perverting effects of hard rock, and it got me thinking:
What happens to all the moral guardians once it becomes obvious whatever they were railing against is harmless? What do the moral-panic guys do when the Black Sabbath fans become responsible family fathers pushing on forty, when the guy who watches splatter movies becomes a store manager, when the gamers spawn little gamerlings and make surprisingly good parents? Where do the morally outraged go, what becomes of them once society accepts whatever they were railing against, as inevitably happens?
Do they just give up? Do they shut up, but grumble in silence about how "punk ruined the world" for the rest of their lives? Do they resent the new society where Satan-worshipping baby killer music is featured on Melodifestivalen? Do they admit they were wrong?
The guy who went on SVT in 1985 and seriously claimed that W.A.S.P. would be responsible for raising an entire generation of violent, hedonistic anarchists - what does he say now, when the hard rock generation works as accountants and nurses throughout the country? If you interviewed him, what would he have to say about it?
I'm really quite curious.
What happens to all the moral guardians once it becomes obvious whatever they were railing against is harmless? What do the moral-panic guys do when the Black Sabbath fans become responsible family fathers pushing on forty, when the guy who watches splatter movies becomes a store manager, when the gamers spawn little gamerlings and make surprisingly good parents? Where do the morally outraged go, what becomes of them once society accepts whatever they were railing against, as inevitably happens?
Do they just give up? Do they shut up, but grumble in silence about how "punk ruined the world" for the rest of their lives? Do they resent the new society where Satan-worshipping baby killer music is featured on Melodifestivalen? Do they admit they were wrong?
The guy who went on SVT in 1985 and seriously claimed that W.A.S.P. would be responsible for raising an entire generation of violent, hedonistic anarchists - what does he say now, when the hard rock generation works as accountants and nurses throughout the country? If you interviewed him, what would he have to say about it?
I'm really quite curious.
fredag 3 februari 2012
Quote of the Now
"Faerie contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons: it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky; and the earth, and all things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted."
- J. R. R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories"
- J. R. R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories"
fredag 13 januari 2012
Do You Want To Playtest 5E?
The fifth edition of Dungeons & Dragons has been announced. It will likely come out sometime in 2013, and hopes are high that it will end the edition wars by uniting fans of 3e and 4e under a single banner. Whether or not it succeeds remains to be seen.
Mike Mearls, of Iron Heroes fame, is one of the lead designers, and he has published an article asking for playtesters. So here's my question: Would you like to playtest D&D 5E?
Mike Mearls, of Iron Heroes fame, is one of the lead designers, and he has published an article asking for playtesters. So here's my question: Would you like to playtest D&D 5E?
torsdag 5 januari 2012
Soundtrack of Me
If someone were to make a movie about me, for whatever reason, I would want the following songs on the soundtrack. They're not necessarily my favourite songs in the whole world, but they're songs that I feel accurately represent me. Some of them wouldn't really work as a soundtrack as such, but never mind that - this little exercise is more about trying to represent myself with a small selection of songs.
Without further ado:
1. Supertramp – The Logical Song
This song is pretty much my theme song.
2. Pet Shop Boys – It's a Sin
3. Scooter – How Much Is The Fish
This song makes no sense, but it makes me happy and all pumped up. Plus, it's been following me since I was pretty small.
4. The Beatles – Fool On The Hill
5. The Beatles – Nowhere Man
It might be a bit redundant to include both this song and Fool On The Hill, but they are actually quite different songs. Both this and Fool On The Hill have been following me for quite some time.
6. The Seat Belts – Real Folk Blues
The theme song of a love story.
7. Bob Dylan – Positively 4th Street
The theme song of another love story.
8. The Beatles - Here Comes The Sun
The theme song of yet another love story. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which is which.
8. Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory – Pure Imagination
9. Aladdin – Friend Like Me
I know, I'm totally full of myself.
10. Gorillaz – Some Kind of Nature
11. Gorillaz – Revolving Doors
...Gorillaz song lyrics as a rule make no sense, so I'm not really sure if these songs say anything really applicable or meaningful, but I like the Gorillaz and their melodies, if nothing else, need to be on the soundtrack.
12. Dr. Steel – We Decide
Wouldn't at all work as a soundtrack for anything, I think, but I like the message.
13. Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
14. Per Gessle – Farväl Angelina
I know the original is in English and by Bob Dylan, but I really like the Swedish version. Also, I feel like there maybe should be at least one song on this list in my actual native language.
Without further ado:
1. Supertramp – The Logical Song
This song is pretty much my theme song.
2. Pet Shop Boys – It's a Sin
3. Scooter – How Much Is The Fish
This song makes no sense, but it makes me happy and all pumped up. Plus, it's been following me since I was pretty small.
4. The Beatles – Fool On The Hill
5. The Beatles – Nowhere Man
It might be a bit redundant to include both this song and Fool On The Hill, but they are actually quite different songs. Both this and Fool On The Hill have been following me for quite some time.
6. The Seat Belts – Real Folk Blues
The theme song of a love story.
7. Bob Dylan – Positively 4th Street
The theme song of another love story.
8. The Beatles - Here Comes The Sun
The theme song of yet another love story. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which is which.
8. Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory – Pure Imagination
9. Aladdin – Friend Like Me
I know, I'm totally full of myself.
10. Gorillaz – Some Kind of Nature
11. Gorillaz – Revolving Doors
...Gorillaz song lyrics as a rule make no sense, so I'm not really sure if these songs say anything really applicable or meaningful, but I like the Gorillaz and their melodies, if nothing else, need to be on the soundtrack.
12. Dr. Steel – We Decide
Wouldn't at all work as a soundtrack for anything, I think, but I like the message.
13. Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody
14. Per Gessle – Farväl Angelina
I know the original is in English and by Bob Dylan, but I really like the Swedish version. Also, I feel like there maybe should be at least one song on this list in my actual native language.
lördag 24 december 2011
Twenty-Four.
“So,” said Andromeda, “We've tried shooting it, zapping it, blowing it up, and kicking it. It seems pretty impervious.”
She was looking at a peculiar metal door at the base of the tree. It was made of shining chrome, virtually featureless except for five letters engraved in its surface: S.A.N.T.A.
“I give up,” she said, taking a seat on a pile of snow. “Nothing short of magic can open this door. I suppose the Systematic Administrator left the message just to tell people to sod off.”
Danielle stood considering the door. So close, and yet so far away. Had they come this far only to not be able to revive the Administrator, after all? Her heart sank. She looked around at her companions, each and every one of which seemed to be of the same opinion as Andromeda. Well... all except one. Her eyes fell on the dark-haired man with the cybernetic leg: Darren. They had only just met, but Danielle noticed something different about him – while everyone else was looking at the door, he was looking at the sky.
“Have you got any idea, Mr... Darren, was it?”
“Maybe. Rita, could you tell me the message again?”
“When one-winged angels fly, magic will open the door. Or something like that.”
Darren got to his feet. He cleared his throat, and spoke up.
“I have an idea. Probably a stupid idea, but I got reminded of a saying. One-winged angels are people, see. The saying goes, we are angels with only one wing: We fly by embracing each other.”
Everyone looked at each other, and particularly Consul Danielle seemed stunned.
“Are you saying we revive the greatest AI in the history of the universe by... hugging?”
“It's a long shot, I admit. But it seems this Administrator guy... thing... whatever, was a little eccentric. I still can't figure out the magic bit though.”
Babs and Sylver shone up at the same time. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” - “That's it, isn't it?” - “I think it is!” - “It makes perfect sense: Friendship!”
They rushed to their feet and hugged whoever happened to be closest: Sylver squeezed Selma in what looked more like a wrestling move than a hug, and Babs tackled Sawyer to the ground. Krystof looked at Darren, skeptically.
“Well man, it was your idea.” he said with a shrug.
Before his partner could protest, Krystof grabbed him in an extremely manly bear hug. Soon, everyone was hugging someone else, and on the ground, Sawyer was laughing.
“Babs, whoever you are, you're crazy. Get off me. Merry Christmas.”
He had no idea why he said it. It just seemed to fit. It did.
§§§§§§§
And from that great door, there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the ground to see what was the matter.
O, the great Tesla tree did both sparkle and flash,
And away from the lightning they quickly must dash.
A moon (or space station) shone down on the snow,
And it seemed like the planet itself was aglow.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a great cosmo-sleigh, and eight cyborg reindeer!
And there in the sleigh there was seated no man,
nor machine, not like anything made in Japan:
This strange, wondrous being, that flew for the sky
Was a powerful, marvelous godlike A.I.
A being of shimmering energy pure,
Now back from the dead – of that they were sure.
And yet somehow so plump, such a jolly old elf,
that each laughed when they saw him, in spite of himself.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but just raised both his hands,
And displayed all his power by changing the lands.
First came there a cottage, so cozy and warm,
Then soon the whole planet was all terraformed!
There were so many gifts that he gave them besides:
Warm socks and warm sweaters of every size,
Both hoverboards, hovercats, and holograms
Of famous bands playing their favorite jams.
Now laid he a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up in space there he rose,
To stop the galactic war with his gifts
To give out such presents, as mend any rifts.
Away flew his sleigh, so fast you would get carsick,
For it crossed the whole Galaxy in but twelve parsecs!
But they heard him exclaim, throughout all space and time:
“MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL / AND GOODNIGHT / END OF LINE.”
She was looking at a peculiar metal door at the base of the tree. It was made of shining chrome, virtually featureless except for five letters engraved in its surface: S.A.N.T.A.
“I give up,” she said, taking a seat on a pile of snow. “Nothing short of magic can open this door. I suppose the Systematic Administrator left the message just to tell people to sod off.”
Danielle stood considering the door. So close, and yet so far away. Had they come this far only to not be able to revive the Administrator, after all? Her heart sank. She looked around at her companions, each and every one of which seemed to be of the same opinion as Andromeda. Well... all except one. Her eyes fell on the dark-haired man with the cybernetic leg: Darren. They had only just met, but Danielle noticed something different about him – while everyone else was looking at the door, he was looking at the sky.
“Have you got any idea, Mr... Darren, was it?”
“Maybe. Rita, could you tell me the message again?”
“When one-winged angels fly, magic will open the door. Or something like that.”
Darren got to his feet. He cleared his throat, and spoke up.
“I have an idea. Probably a stupid idea, but I got reminded of a saying. One-winged angels are people, see. The saying goes, we are angels with only one wing: We fly by embracing each other.”
Everyone looked at each other, and particularly Consul Danielle seemed stunned.
“Are you saying we revive the greatest AI in the history of the universe by... hugging?”
“It's a long shot, I admit. But it seems this Administrator guy... thing... whatever, was a little eccentric. I still can't figure out the magic bit though.”
Babs and Sylver shone up at the same time. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” - “That's it, isn't it?” - “I think it is!” - “It makes perfect sense: Friendship!”
They rushed to their feet and hugged whoever happened to be closest: Sylver squeezed Selma in what looked more like a wrestling move than a hug, and Babs tackled Sawyer to the ground. Krystof looked at Darren, skeptically.
“Well man, it was your idea.” he said with a shrug.
Before his partner could protest, Krystof grabbed him in an extremely manly bear hug. Soon, everyone was hugging someone else, and on the ground, Sawyer was laughing.
“Babs, whoever you are, you're crazy. Get off me. Merry Christmas.”
He had no idea why he said it. It just seemed to fit. It did.
§§§§§§§
And from that great door, there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the ground to see what was the matter.
O, the great Tesla tree did both sparkle and flash,
And away from the lightning they quickly must dash.
A moon (or space station) shone down on the snow,
And it seemed like the planet itself was aglow.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a great cosmo-sleigh, and eight cyborg reindeer!
And there in the sleigh there was seated no man,
nor machine, not like anything made in Japan:
This strange, wondrous being, that flew for the sky
Was a powerful, marvelous godlike A.I.
A being of shimmering energy pure,
Now back from the dead – of that they were sure.
And yet somehow so plump, such a jolly old elf,
that each laughed when they saw him, in spite of himself.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but just raised both his hands,
And displayed all his power by changing the lands.
First came there a cottage, so cozy and warm,
Then soon the whole planet was all terraformed!
There were so many gifts that he gave them besides:
Warm socks and warm sweaters of every size,
Both hoverboards, hovercats, and holograms
Of famous bands playing their favorite jams.
Now laid he a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up in space there he rose,
To stop the galactic war with his gifts
To give out such presents, as mend any rifts.
Away flew his sleigh, so fast you would get carsick,
For it crossed the whole Galaxy in but twelve parsecs!
But they heard him exclaim, throughout all space and time:
“MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL / AND GOODNIGHT / END OF LINE.”
fredag 23 december 2011
Twenty-Three.
The little valley surrounding the metal tree was suddenly quite crowded. Sylver, Love and Selma stood in the middle. To one side stood Andromeda, Maximus and Sawyer, weapons drawn. On the other side stood Consul Danielle Ash and her friend, Kendra. Both of them looked quite calm. Nobody spoke; the only sound through the valley was the whining of Christmas Planets' loud winds.
“Step off of Selma.” said Andromeda, waving her pistol. Love casually did so. “You all right?”
Selma made some kind of noise that could be construed as a “Mostly”.
Presently the Consul spoke up. “I would advice you not to aim a gun at Love. She doesn't appreciate it.”
“I reckon she's fast, but can she dodge a bullet?”
“On Helios, I saw her dodge a laser. I'm Danielle, by the way.”
“Name's Andromeda. What are you doing here?”
Unexpectedly, another voice rang out as a third party entered the little valley. “The Consul is here because of something Love and me discovered. The four of us came here following these guys.”
“These guys” turned out to be Babs, Krystof, and Darren. The person speaking was someone both Andromeda and Sylver knew very well.
“Rita!”
“That's me. It looks like I've arrived just in time to provide the exposition.”
Danielle nodded, approaching the tree. “Please do share the story. I see no reason not to.”
Andromeda holstered her gun, and walked closer as well, helping Selma to her feet. Soon, they were all gathered around the strange metal contraption, as Rita cleared her throat.
“In ages past, some hapless programmers accidentally invented an incredibly powerful artificial intelligence. Nobody knew exactly how it worked, not even the inventors, but it seemed to possess strange, almost divine powers. The machine was dubbed the Systematic Administrator of Numerous Treasured Artifacts, because of its ability – and tendency – to give people the resources they needed. Gifts, if you will. For the few precious years it was operational, there was peace and prosperity throughout the Galaxy.”
She took a break, looking out over the assembled people. Andromeda spoke up:
“I thought the Systematic Administrator was just a myth?”
“It's a commonly held belief, yes. As I said, the machine was only operational for a few years. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but the AI just vanished one day, leaving behind a curious message – it would return on 'the darkest day'. There were some other peculiar passages in there as well – something about 'When one-winged angels fly', only then could the door could be opened, but even then only by – and I quote – 'magic'. The only part we could decipher was this: The Systematic Administrator would be waiting under a Tree of Snow.”
She gestured to the large metal tree.
“That, ladies and gentlemen, is the true Treasure of Christmas Planet – the key to reviving the Systematic Administrator of Numerous Treasured Artifacts. And it's right underneath our feet.”
Danielle, presently, produced something from her pocket. It looked like an incredibly advanced remote control, and she cautiously approached the tree, reaching out to touch the device to one of the branches. Immediately, it lit up like – well, like a Christmas tree. It also started to radiate rather a lot of heat.
“We're about to get a close look at it. Everyone stand back. I've activated the Tesla circuit.”
As they backed off, the snow around the tree began to melt...
“Step off of Selma.” said Andromeda, waving her pistol. Love casually did so. “You all right?”
Selma made some kind of noise that could be construed as a “Mostly”.
Presently the Consul spoke up. “I would advice you not to aim a gun at Love. She doesn't appreciate it.”
“I reckon she's fast, but can she dodge a bullet?”
“On Helios, I saw her dodge a laser. I'm Danielle, by the way.”
“Name's Andromeda. What are you doing here?”
Unexpectedly, another voice rang out as a third party entered the little valley. “The Consul is here because of something Love and me discovered. The four of us came here following these guys.”
“These guys” turned out to be Babs, Krystof, and Darren. The person speaking was someone both Andromeda and Sylver knew very well.
“Rita!”
“That's me. It looks like I've arrived just in time to provide the exposition.”
Danielle nodded, approaching the tree. “Please do share the story. I see no reason not to.”
Andromeda holstered her gun, and walked closer as well, helping Selma to her feet. Soon, they were all gathered around the strange metal contraption, as Rita cleared her throat.
“In ages past, some hapless programmers accidentally invented an incredibly powerful artificial intelligence. Nobody knew exactly how it worked, not even the inventors, but it seemed to possess strange, almost divine powers. The machine was dubbed the Systematic Administrator of Numerous Treasured Artifacts, because of its ability – and tendency – to give people the resources they needed. Gifts, if you will. For the few precious years it was operational, there was peace and prosperity throughout the Galaxy.”
She took a break, looking out over the assembled people. Andromeda spoke up:
“I thought the Systematic Administrator was just a myth?”
“It's a commonly held belief, yes. As I said, the machine was only operational for a few years. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but the AI just vanished one day, leaving behind a curious message – it would return on 'the darkest day'. There were some other peculiar passages in there as well – something about 'When one-winged angels fly', only then could the door could be opened, but even then only by – and I quote – 'magic'. The only part we could decipher was this: The Systematic Administrator would be waiting under a Tree of Snow.”
She gestured to the large metal tree.
“That, ladies and gentlemen, is the true Treasure of Christmas Planet – the key to reviving the Systematic Administrator of Numerous Treasured Artifacts. And it's right underneath our feet.”
Danielle, presently, produced something from her pocket. It looked like an incredibly advanced remote control, and she cautiously approached the tree, reaching out to touch the device to one of the branches. Immediately, it lit up like – well, like a Christmas tree. It also started to radiate rather a lot of heat.
“We're about to get a close look at it. Everyone stand back. I've activated the Tesla circuit.”
As they backed off, the snow around the tree began to melt...
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