Dungeons and Representation: How a Podcast Did Good

Hello hello!

So anyone who follows me on Twitter - or anywhere, really - has probably noticed that I am majorly into podcasts. I've alluded to my love of tabletop RPGs on more than a few occasions, and as a fledgling DM (Dungeon Master - the non-BDSM kind, though there's a surprisingly large overlap between the two communities...) I like to take inspiration from the best.

Before I explore today's topic in detail, a few recommendations - in no particular order, Critical Hit, How We Roll, One Shot, Campaign, The Adventure Zone, and Dungeons and Randomness are all funny and wonderful programs that showcase both inclusive gaming (on and off the table, for the most part) and really, really good storytelling. Writers and geeks should check them out. Don't worry about the rules; these podcasts are almost all story-focused, so it doesn't get too mathy and crunchy.

With those recs out of the way, I'd like to focus on D&R in particular. Having recently completed its 200th episode, the four (!) groups sat down with the DM, Jason Massey to talk about their experiences.

What happened 

Now, two hundred episodes of anything is a trip, but I'm a binge-listener and a completionist, so it wasn't a big deal for me. However, the beginning of the series was pretty rocky. The first group to form, known as Group 1, was an all-male group of friends who'd met through the wrestling fandom. There are a lot of wrestling fans who also play D&D, for some reason, so that's not a problem - but the group dynamics were.

Beleagured DM Jason and hapless party leader Rob Wiesehan, playing tiefling warlock Malchus Grimnas, then spent about fifty episodes trying to rein in the murderous and careless shenanigans of this initial group. It's honestly a fascinating tour through toxic masculinity - players screw, rob, and murder their way across the land of Theria, and as Jason's worldbuilding becomes increasingly intricate and rich, most of the players enjoy being dicks more than they do abiding by the social contracts of D&D, to quote Rob.

What social contract? 

Here's the thing about Dungeons and Dragons and most other roleplaying games - it's pretty essential, as Rob explained, that the other members of your party are trustworthy enough to not murder you in your sleep, screw you out of things like healing potions, share resources, and fight on your side during battles - and not, say, engage in player vs player combat or act in needlessly antagonistic ways. Interestingly, a couple of the early players from the group seemed genuinely baffled about why it might be a bad idea to act like dicks and fight people who are supposed to be on their side.

Now, group dynamics are an inevitable part of human interaction. We're social animals, and that means we're liable to be jerks and conflict with each other, but it's totally possible to ride out those painful spasms and create a lasting D&D group. Sometimes people leave, which is why inviting a few more people than you think necessary is often prudent. But it's a very important and basic part of this system, and most systems, that you do not screw over the people who are on your side.

The fact that multiple players in Group 1 just didn't understand this is fascinating, and honestly, only seems to have happened because it was an all-dude group. Broish humour is fine, but ripping on each other, jockeying for leadership, and being unnecessarily and often destructively subversive often led to doom and disorganization.

Have some eye bleach: fan art of characters from the Adventure Zone, in Halloween costumes as *other* characters from The Adventure Zone - who are also lesbians. This picture has lesbians ^2. You're welcome. 

When it got better

Perhaps because of Jason's expert implementation of consequences in the storylines, to an extent that many traditional creators should follow, the actions of many Group 1 members caught up with them. It seems that murdering, betraying, and robbing people willy-nilly is kind of not great. While the other groups and players sometimes made ethically questionable choices in the storyline, they always weighed them carefully. Una Anhelada, a gutsy devil-may-care paladin played by Izzy Chadwick, often spearheaded these - but her seeming recklessness and impulsive nature still included concern, empathy, and care for both her party members and fellow players.

As time went on, the DM added more groups, each of which went through their own growing pains.  Holding auditions for new players meant screening and better integration of people, something important for a show, and interestingly, also brought a flood of lady players, as well as at least one non-binary and later trans male player. Not everyone there was white, either, which is a silent problem besetting many D&D games, but a welcome change here. Among the new blood was Brienne Marie, a delightful pixie of a person with a filthy sense of humour and a sparkling laugh. Quickly becoming Jason's platonic soulmate, her addition to the cast marks a sharp change in the show's style - very much for its benefit.

This isn't to say that GIRLS ARE ALWAYS BETTER, because a few of the new lady inductees were pretty irritating - and left quickly - but the most destructive players in the game were definitely all men. Their behaviour patterns had a lot in common, too - a determination to have their desires and goals met, often at the expense of the party; a refusal to accommodate others' needs and priorities, and toddler-like tantrums and antics when their requests were denied.

Back to Group 1 

Group 1 went from being the primary party in the setting to an exception.As the other two, then three, then four (! counting a bonus group made of existing players) groups quarreled and debated and resolved conflicts in satisfying and interesting ways, Group 1 remained somewhat stuck in the past. When party members finally began to murder each other, in a culmination of the rivalries and toxic dynamics, virtually only Malchus remained. Because the players either selfishly focused on their own gimmicks and jokes or sabotaged each other, often both, Malchus (and Rob, his player) were exceptional. As the group reformed once, then twice, it gained lady members and non-toxic male members - and underwent a drastic transformation.

Even as Malchus grappled with the impact of his actions, the group would discuss their decisions carefully and cautiously. Not exploiting others, picking up a dorky and endearing young NPC wizard-fighter (who subverts the trope of that combo brilliantly), and helping each other in heartwarming ways, Group 1 became radically different from its roots.

But Not All Men 

The thing is, men don't have to suck. Male and female players can both participate in toxic masculinity, but focusing on sharing the spotlight, resolving conflicts without in-character violence, not plotting and planning about other player characters behind their backs - and out of character - and above all, just not being awful dicks to each other, will all result in much better table experiences. It's fine to create evil or morally ambiguous, selfish characters. But it's vitally important and mandatory for people to keep their character personas and grudges separate from in-person dynamics, and to settle table conflicts as soon as they happen.

D&D is easy to get invested in. The shared storytelling, improv with dice, and creating a world are intoxicating and empowering. Add in the capacity to be something impossible or better than one is in the real world, and you have a heady brew - but it's easy to get emotionally invested in one's persona and the storyline. When everyone's invested, and at least somewhat working together, it's a hit of pure magic. But even if the characters are planning to double-cross each other, players at the table have to use boundaries and not harm each other.

Failing to do this results in Reservoir Dogs - like chains of revenge and can absolutely ruin friendships forever, because of the basic lack of respect they represent. But working with the other players and keeping in-character conflicts and rivalries separate from real life makes sure everyone at the table can walk away with a spring in their step and an easy mind.

***

Thanks for returning to the nest. Leave a comment and say hi! I want to hear from you. Keep up with the new releases by getting on the mailing list. Buy my books on Amazon, and keep up with me on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and the original blog. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!

Fran Bow: A Game Review

Hello hello!

I continue to fight depression and anxiety, but I'm still here--so I'm winning, I suppose you could say.  At any rate, it's been ages since I put up a new post, but not for lack of ideas or content. This idea, however, demanded to be discussed because it was so very timely. For once, I will try to avoid

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS 

...but there will still be a few. Also, major content warnings apply to the game, for gore, ghosts, scary women's health issues, a creepy pedo-type guard, and other various scary situations. If you're sensitive to stories about children in danger, or if Pan's Labyrinth upsets you, maybe give this game a pass. For the rest of you, follow me down this dark and strange path to the world of Ithersta.

Sometimes, Disarcade (aka Andrey, the partner in crime) plays something other than DOTA 2. I've been nagging him to put up another blog for non-DOTA things, but I'll alert you all when that actually happens. Anyway, when Dantalion sent us the code for Fran Bow, I had no idea what to expect.

What I got was an indie point and click adventure game game that's basically on par with, or better than Psychonauts. It's terrifying, but easily the most in-depth and well-written game about mental illness that I've ever seen. I've complained that games about asylums and such tend to other mentally ill people in the past, and I thought I was tired as hell of Creepy Child stories, but this game totally inverted my expectations.

When? Where? 

The game is set in the early 1940s, but avoids talking directly about WWII. That isn't to say the themes don't touch on it, but it's very indirect. I can't talk about the rich mythology and symbolism and themes in the game without some end-of-game spoilers, but suffice to say that if you are educated about history and you look for hints about what Jewish people endured, you might well see them.

The game seems to be set in Europe, but I saw suggestions online that it's set in America. Everyone speaks English and it's all captioned anyway, so it's hard to tell.

Who is Fran Bow? 

You can see more about the plot here. Fran is the eponymous character, and the game is delivered through her perspective. After her parents are brutally murdered under dubious circumstances, she is brought to an asylum for mentally ill children. By putting the game entirely in her perspective, the viewer is placed in an empathetic position rather than a fearful one. Fran jokes, is polite and friendly to everyone, and is spunky and brave even when things are hopeless. Even when she's followed by horrifying, demonic shadows, she keeps her chin up and remains devoted to finding her kitty, Mr. Midnight.

Fran might be mentally ill, with schizophrenia, or the world she's in might just be very strange. The entire game might be a metaphorical way of dealing with her struggles. Which of these is true? I'm not going to tell you, of course!

What does it look and sound like? 

If you're longing for a visual feast, Fran Bow delivers. The detailed, beautiful 2-D animation is a feast for the eyes, and the horror is fucking creepy. Skeletons, strange beasts, blood, and demons? All of the above, and then some. This is weird horror that dabbles in Lovecraftian styling but without aping old tropes. The music is simple, but the sound design is haunting and creepy. It's a very pared-down game, but does not feel limited or cheap in the least.

Source. This is a scene from pretty early on...and it only gets creepier. 

Why do you like it so much? 

Like I said, it's an empathetic portrayal of trauma, mental illness, and the things people endured in psychiatric facilities until the 1970s. Hints of violence against women, the metaphorical illustrations of demons (or non-metaphorical, depending on what you think about the game), the cruel experimentation...all of it is done in an empathetic but fair way, and it's still scary as hell. This is easily the scariest game Disarcade has ever played, and I've sat through both of the good Dead Space games. Fran Bow doesn't really rely on crappy jump scares, but uses atmosphere and scary ideas to get the scares across. The story is frightening on many levels, and boy does it work. The best part is that even with Fran's simple, brave point of view, the story retains its scariness. It's never stupid, childish, or condescending to either the audience or Fran, and Fran isn't overly sexualized in weird ways. 

Final Verdict

Play this game right now. I don't usually give games such emphatically positive reviews, but games are almost never as exceptional as this one. It took us around four or five hours to get through, so the game doesn't wear out its welcome. I'm still thinking about its implications, the worlds it offers, and the way it portrays both inner demons and Fran herself. 

What's next? 

I've been having trouble getting anything done, for reasons mentioned above, but I'm hoping to write a post about a game called "Don't Starve Together", one about JK Rowling's not-so-hidden fatphobia, and to catch up on some of the old idea posts that have been sitting in my queue for a while. What do you want me to write about? Leave a comment if you have questions or ideas!

***

Thanks for returning to the nest. Leave a comment and say hi! I want to hear from you. Keep up with the new releases by getting on the mailing list. Buy my books on Amazon, and keep up with me on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and the original blog. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!

Snake Eyes--A Sad Response to Yahtzee Croshaw

Hello hello!

So, last time I posted, it was about Gamergate. The thing is, I ended it with a call to action for the gamer majority. To say more than "we're not all like that"; to reject the Gamergate supporters.

Now I need to tackle something even uglier.

The thing I want to talk about is an article I saw by a reviewer I like. The reviewer? Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw, also known as ZeroPunctuation, the best-selling author of Mogworld and one of the most famous video game critics in the business.

Source. Stabby time indeed. 

A bit of context

I had been looking forward to Mogworld for a long time. I finally opened it on my Kindle and settled in. It should have been right up my alley--satire, geekery, an antihero--but it just wasn't. I was reminded of this book, but without a believable female character, much less a few of them, and without the harmless sense of fun. Don't get me wrong; the prose was good and the concept was fine, but it had this eau d'Fedora (trilby, actually) that just bothered me. Maybe it was that the main character was a snarky sad-sack who had a girl throwing herself at him anyway. Maybe it was the self-satisfied tone, or the constant slams against fat people. (Seriously, there were a lot.) I had a nagging feeling I didn't like about Crowshaw's underlying perspective. A perspective I thought he'd moved past.

I wondered what his thoughts were on Gamergate, and ended up on Extra Punctuation, the blog site. I didn't see anything on Gamergate, I did, however, see this.

The comments were surprisingly civil and thoughtful, but the article itself dismayed me. Croshaw clearly doesn't understand the importance of other perspectives--nonwhite, nonmale perspectives especially.

What's wrong with it?

The idea that a white male character is an acceptable audience surrogate or vessel for everyone is, simply put, a bad one. Yes, there are lots of white men. But there's a lot more of literally everyone else. We need more characters who are female (or don't fit into the gender binary), and who are nonwhite, specifically. One of the things that kept me from gaming as a kid was the ocean of male characters. I couldn't relate to them, and so why should I care about what happened? I've developed more empathy now, obviously, but the ocean of gruffness and stubble on offer is still alienating and frustrating.

A lot of people who make this argument basically say that if you're good at empathizing, you should be able to enjoy a white male vessel anyway, regardless of your background. My question is--why doesn't that cut both ways? If we--the non (cis) male, non-white, non-etc people--are supposed to feel empathy for you anyway and just enjoy the story, why can't you do the same for us when presented with our vessel?

Considering how unimportant a character's appearance usually is in a video game, there's no reason not to. Even games that, as Croshaw says, use gender heavily, could actually still bow to this mechanic. The first Bioshock game is a really good example of this. Themes of fatherhood and daughters run through the game, and both of the first two games are very gendered. The Big Daddies, though, could easily have included some Big Mommies without breaking anything. You wouldn't even have to change the armour, and it's not as though they speak. The thing is, the story of parenthood and attachment issues, as well as building a relationship with your own child, aren't limited to men. Yeah, the third game does require the use of a white male character because it actually tackled racism in a period context, but the white male character was also a specific person, Booker. It's one of the few cases where it was absolutely required. But the rest of the time? Yeah, not so much.

Source. EEEK, A GIRL!

Let's talk about sex--not having it, that is

Compare that to Silent Hill, which is apparently the only game worth talking about in the past 20 years, based on Croshaw's article. As one of my friends pointed out in a Facebook discussion, there's no reason that the concept of frustrated desire is automatically one for men. Having grown up bi, especially without knowing it for the majority of my life (well, I KNEW it, but I didn't have a word or context for what I was feeling), I can confirm that men aren't the only ones who get lonely and frustrated. And even so, what about the loneliness women experience in dating, or failing to date? It doesn't have be a dating simulator to acknowledge that yes, women suffer from loneliness and a lack of getting laid, too, and that they're haunted by their exes. However, that would involve understanding that women are people, too, something that seems to elude a disappointingly large number of gamers.

Of course, it helps if you don't skim over the "wordy" dialogue in the game and pay attention to the character development.

Gender roles < pizza rolls

The thing with the idea that women = damsels, men = heroes is that it's not only staler than the air in an ancient crypt, it's wrong. Men need to be rescued too, and women's experiences aren't nearly as different from men's as they've been let to believe. Yeah, we're at a higher risk of rape, and some of the socialization is very different, but the emotions and the mental processes are actually a lot more similar than I ever thought when I was younger. Gender differences are kind of a trap and a lie, with the exception of the negative ones. There are bad things that are different for men and women (such as the elevated rate of suicide and social isolation for men vs the rates of sexual assault and kinds of abuse for women), but the good stuff is what we have in common. And yeah, some of the bad stuff, we have in common as well. This doesn't even touch on breaking down the gender binary; it certainly wouldn't kill anyone to represent characters who belong outside the Thug/Geek or Lady/Slut/Tomboy paradigms. One possible exception to this would be rogue-like or bard-like characters--speaking strictly in terms of their appearance--because these characters are often more tomboyish if they're female, or more feminine if they're male. So, more of that, please. Also, more recognition of the fact that there are going to people who just refuse to "pick a side" in the gender thing.

Less evolutionary psychology, though

This really disappointed me. There are gender differences between the brains--at least as far as we can tell; quantitative analysis has shown some areas are larger in women's brains than in men's, and vice versa. (There's a saddening paucity of research on non-gender-conforming individuals. I suspect that issue won't be remedied for quite some time.) However, differences are mostly focused on verbal reasoning skills and spatial reasoning skills. These differences also don't automatically make people think alike.

Still, from a psychological perspective, the concept of sexist protective instincts is ridiculous. Actual evolutionary psychology--whatever Psychology Today thinks--doesn't work like that. Protective instincts are a "thing", in that they exist, but gendering the presentation by saying that men automatically protect women because women are helpless isn't supported by paleoarchaeological findings or modern psychology. There are archaeologists who are addressing that women were fighters. Men are aggressive, but what about all the women spoilin' for a fight? What about the men who prefer to be passive? Nobody considers that women are just as aggressive and protective as men, but merely are trained to vent it verbally rather than physically. Women do fight. That is a thing that happens. We did not, and do not, always need to be sheltered. Furthermore, just because something existed in the past does not mean we need to perpetuate it now.

Source. If only the hatted mind would turn its withering commentary to gender roles.

Now what? 

I realise that Yahtzee Croshaw isn't going to respond to this blog post, and isn't going to pay attention to criticism. That's not how he rolls. Instead, I'll address this to Yahtzee's fans. Yes, he's fun and analyses games very well, but that doesn't mean everything he says is right. We need to demand more accountability from our reviewers in terms of their perspectives and limits. In the context of Gamergate, and the slutshaming, personal attacks, and harassment there, the roles of women and PoC need to be examined more than ever. I've noticed the uncomfortable dynamic in his reviews before--automatic devaluation of female characters except as sex objects--and while I'll probably still watch his reviews, I won't be able to stop noticing that.

So in a way, yes, we do need to examine gaming journalism. Just not in the way Gamergate supporters meant we did.

***

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Leave your comments, rebuttals, and vehement agreements below. Don't miss any of the phuquerie. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out! 

A Brief Response to #GamerGate

Hello hello!

This is probably one of the scariest posts I've ever written. Merely mentioning #GamerGate, the misogynist scandal that's been setting the gaming world on fire, is grounds for online attacks, vicious comments, and doxxing. (Doxxing is the release of personal information, such as someone's address.) I've avoided talking about it because there were better and more prominent people who have already said their bit. There's also the whole thing with Felicia Day getting doxxed the minute she wrote a compassionate post about the topic.

I'm not Felicia Day. I'm not even a particularly good gamer; a lot of my gaming is done from the backseat. But I cried over Mordin's death, shuddered at Dead Space's Stalkers, spend hours every day in a gothic underworld, laugh at reviews, and I can tell you who some of the top stars in DOTA 2 are--as well as their original teams and the shakeups that happened after the recent international.

My point is, I'm still enough of a gamer to give a crap about this. And because I'm a feminist on the internet, I care even more. I'm probably safe, due to my relative anonymity, but merely opening my face and mentioning the topic is a risk. Well, it's still worth talking about.

Gamergate is not about "responsibility in gaming journalism". Zoe Quinn did nothing wrong, but her ex-boyfriend made allegations that she'd cheated on him with a gaming journalist--which didn't result in a career bump of any kind, and which happened while they were on a break. Furthermore, it's none of our business what a woman does with her body, regardless of who she is or where she works. Anyway. The other target has been Anita Sarkeesian. I don't agree with every bit of her analysis, but she's very good at evaluating things according to trends. She's good at providing an intro to feminism. And for this, and for calling out the gaming industry on sexist writing issues, she's gotten death threats and bomb threats.

If the Gamergate crowd actually wanted to make gaming journalism and people within the industry more responsible, they'd stop threatening physical violence and act like real journalists themselves. They'd do their research. They'd focus on things that matter, like the 322 match-fixing issue that's setting the DOTAverse on fire right now. They would stop going after women who haven't done anything wrong.

And if the actual gaming journalists and reviewers were responsible human beings, they'd address their fanbase and tell them to stop making bomb threats, doxxing people, and harassing them. A few have, but a few other prominent celebrities have just put an unintentional seal of approval on events. Still others haven't said anything, which is worse.

So, how do we stop Gamergate? We address it. We, as geeks, stand together and say that we will not support people who make sexist attacks or death threats against other fellow geeks. Or non-geeks. Or anyone. The thing is, "we" needs to include everyone--not just the feminists and PoC. We need the white dudebros who don't want to be represented by Gamergate to speak up, to reject what a few handfuls of lonely, hurt, reactionary people have said about women and gaming.

This is starting to happen. And sexism is starting to become unacceptable. Unfortunately, people still do it without realising that they're saying something awful.

Which brings me to a Yahtzee Croshaw article that made me so sad, I lost sleep over it. But that'll have to wait until next time.

***

 Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog for more. 

Press 'X' for Prejudice: Mental Health in the Gaming World, Part 2

Hello, hello!

A note before we get underway: I will be referring to and linking to descriptions of various disorders. If you identify with these symptoms and experiences, you may want to consult a specialist. I am not a diagnostician or psychiatrist, and you probably aren't either, so don't diagnose yourself based on a few links on the internet. 

Okay, so, with that done--let's get back to the tea in China, as my mother says. As a reminder, the issue was  this article. I agree, but not completely. Last week, we broke down what mental health issues mean, and this week, we'll talk about it in relation to gaming.

Source. I know it's got a watermark. But a broken screaming mirror-head was too cool to resist.

What does this have to do with gaming? 

As mentioned, games love to use insanity as a device. Sometimes it's portrayed really badly and inaccurately--but sometimes, that's actually okay. Lovecraft's monsters have less to do with schizophrenia than they do with tapping into the psychedelic experiences caused by substance use (a theme in a few of the stories, actually) and tapping into the fundamental fears of childhood. Anyone who's cuddled up under the covers, clutching a pillow or toy frantically, trying to avoid breathing or moving--paralysed by fear of imaginary beasts under the bed, in the hall, or in the closet, can understand where Lovecraft is coming from. Then, too, the insane and unworldly logic of dreams and the bizarre things our minds combine influence a lot of games. The stuff my own brain has come up with as a result of the unusual serotonin and dopamine levels experienced during REM ended up inspiring a series and a whole bunch of short stories. In a way, video games are not playing on real mental health disorders, but on the vagaries of healthy minds when they stray in dark directions.

But...but...what's wrong with that? 

The issue is that people might be getting the wrong idea about how mental health works from these games. Obviously, there's also the problematic (push the buzzer because I said the 'p' word, do it, I dare you) treatment of mental health issues everywhere else in the media, too. People are gradually becoming more aware of it, especially with all the shootings in the States lately, but the problem is what you might call a "piling on" effect. Sure, books often have better depictions, but not everyone reads a lot, and not all books are accurate about the matter, either. And just because everything else is crappy, doesn't mean games should aim for the lowest common denominator in quality.

Mental health issues do not make someone violent just because they exist, for the most part. But gaming is just beginning to figure that out. I don't think we need to keep heroes homebound for weeks--though montages would handle the problems with that nicely--but it should be an option, shouldn't it? It's a challenge for writers, but challenges in writing keep one sharp and improve storytelling abilities.

Another consideration is representation, which has a very positive effect on self-perception and long-term success. People mock Tumblrites for self-diagnosis, but anxiety and other disorders actually appear to be more prevalent than we expected anyway. So while the internet might not be the best way to figure out if something is wrong with you, sometimes it's a good place to find help. Sometimes. And by offering better depictions in games, there is a chance that gamers will find ways to deal with their own demons.

Do we need to fix it? 

Well, actually, yes. There needs to be more of a crowbar between the fictionalized depictions of insanity, which are artistic, and the portrayals of real disorders. It would be nice if more writers and artists actually spoke to people with mental health issues and flipped through the DSM list to get a better idea of what they're trying to depict. One game that actually humanized people with mental health issues pretty well and dealt with therapy (in a very metaphorical way) was Psychonauts, mentioned above. Dead Space and Mass Effect 3 actually touch on PTSD, but don't really resolve it. Also, mental health issues tend to magically dissolve until they're needed for plot reasons, and they really don't work like that in real life.

Things are changing, however; just the fact that Depression Quest exists is a massive step forward. This, this, this, and this may be relevant to your interests if you're looking for realistic games. I will warn you that the last one is so creepy, I noped out part of the way through.

So, on that perky note, I can only say--sweet dreams, readers. Remember--real life is even more terrifying than anything that could possibly happen in a game.

*Edit*--a wonderful and very articulate article about video games and the potential they have to teach people compassion appears here.

*****

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Don't miss any of the phuquerie. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out! 

Pass the Prozac: Mental Health in the Gaming World, Part 1

Hello, hello!

A note before we get underway: I will be referring to and linking to descriptions of various disorders. If you identify with these symptoms and experiences, you may want to consult a specialist. I am not a diagnostician or psychiatrist, and you probably aren't either, so don't diagnose yourself based on a few links on the internet. 


So, this post has been a long time coming. So long, in fact, that I got the idea from working on the Psychonauts review a while back. Yeah, I know. That was a while ago.

Why pick it up again, then? Partly it was that the idea refused to die. I really like fictionalized depictions of madness--before I got into Lovecraft, there was Shakespeare, and before him, Diana Wynne Jones actually covered it pretty well in her series, too. And video games love using artistic renderings of madness.

Then I saw this. And though it's well-intentioned, I don't think the writer understands mental health issues as well as they think they do. The comments section betrays a lot of the same misunderstandings, though it's not as bad as, say, Youtube. How dare I say that, though? On what basis can I claim to have a good understanding of mental health--in the real world, not just in fiction?

Source. Not shown: an accurate representation of actual retrograde amnesia or the horrible face-melty monster. You're welcome.

How about some background? 

Before I let myself become a writer, I thought I had to be a child psychiatrist or psychologist. I like kids, after all, and I like helping people; it seemed like a good use of my skills, curiosity, and intellect. Then I actually completed my degree in Addictions Counselling. That included not only lab experiences with undergoing forced counselling and forcibly counselling other students--the emotional equivalent of The Hunger Games--but practical classes in neuroscience and a lot of time working with the DSM-IV. I hated the degree by the end of it, but I stuck it out to the finish line.

In "the real world", I've also worked with two government organizations that provide funding to people with disabilities--including front-line service that involved a lot of patient interaction. They were both great experiences, though I have to admit I'm glad I get to work on editing instead. I wasn't working as a counsellor in either position--my degree ruined that for me--but I was interacting with patients and families regularly.

Then there's the real life stuff. Close friends, family members, my partner--all of them have struggled with mental health issues of various kinds. And hell, so have I. I've learned that sanity and mental health--actual health--are a matter of taking things day by day sometimes, of figuring out how triggers work and how to avoid situations with certain kinds of stressors. Sometimes just waking up is a victory.

So, without getting into serious specifics--I know what mental health encompasses pretty well. But what does that have to do with the depiction of insanity in video games and art?

Is the insanity we see in art realistic? 

This isn't as straightforward as it sounds. The answer is "no, but yes."

There are elements of Lovecraftian or Shakespearean madness that reflect the experience of a psychotic breakdown or psychotic episode (as in cases of schizophrenia). The hallucinations, both visual and auditory; the paranoia and fears of persecution; the "word salad" that results when the brain and tongue are at war. Sometimes these visions and hallucinations are vicious and aggressive, and sometimes they're actually more benign--mostly outside the West, in countries with better social support systems and more communal values. Here, the high levels of isolation and rather vicious social dynamics tend to make people feel very isolated, and the metaphorical demons in their heads are very aggressive. It's not much of a stretch to say these things are probably linked.

However, "insanity" often encompasses a lot of things. Narcissistic Personality Disorder, the megalomaniac's mainstay; Antisocial Personality Disorder, and other, less 'by the book' forms of aggression and psychotic behavior are all referred to as "insanity". If a character is "crazy", they'll do anything. Interestingly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder-type symptoms are also used as motivation. Horribly mangled versions of Disassociative Identity Disorder  are also popular choices to represent "insanity".

Source. Yeah, I know. Watermark. But it's a great picture.

Does a mental health disorder make someone violent and evil? 

Short answer: no. While some illnesses can contribute to violent behavior, it seems like life trauma has a much bigger impact on violence as a response to hallucinations or perceived aggression from others. However, the jury is still out on this; we are trying to understand what causes violence as a response or defense mechanism.

However, just having a mental health issue is not going to mean someone is "crazy". Between 10 and 20% of Canadians and Americans will experience a mental health issue at some point in their lives, the most common being depression and/or anxiety. Phobias are also extremely common. This means that mental health issues are actually normal parts of the human experience. We don't necessarily cope with them very well, and we tend to pathologize them and isolate people who have them--but they're far from uncommon.

So, does a mental health issue make someone violent? Occasionally, yes. Evil? Absolutely not. Hurting people can make them hurt other people, though. In fact, abuse of various kinds can basically induce mental health issues, including anxiety and depression, as well as PTSD. The thing is, abusers often have mental health issues and a history of pain themselves, so it's complex. In any case, painting people as monsters won't solve the problem, and certainly won't cure people. In fact, most mental health issues can't be cured, only treated, but some of them are easier to live with than others.

So...what about gaming? Does all of this misinformation have a negative affect on gamers, or is it relatively innocent? Next time: we get back on topic and talk about this in the context of gaming!

*****

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Don't miss any of the phuquerie. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out! 

D%&$ It, Bioware, I Was Using That Heart: Mass Effect Revisited

Hello hello!

So, my turbulent and ultimately ill-fated love affair with the Mass Effect trilogy is pretty well known at this point. In case you missed all that, you can find info here, here, and here. There are

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

 about the first three games at all six of those links, by the way. I've written about this series a lot, and one of the reasons I love Farscape so much is that it gave me what I was hoping for from Mass Effect, but without the most tragic backstory ever written.

Well, the release of the fourth game in the franchise has been revealed at--where else?--the San Diego Comic Con. I waited with baited breath as I clicked on the link, hoping for a reveal of the future of the universe.

 Source: Cheezburger.

The next game is going to happen concurrently with the events of the last one, ME3. You know, that game. The one that ruined a company's reputation, earned EA the "Worst Company of the Year" award in 2012, and was universally hailed as a clusterphuque of earthshaking proportions. The original ending was so universally hated, they ended up revamping it with extended narration and explanations of the consequences. More on the extended endings in a minute. But all the phuquerie that resulted from that terrible, cliched, tropey, backstabbing of an ending happened because gamers felt betrayed. I was even one of them, and I shed my tears with the rest. But why? And why did I get a bad case of feels when I finally watched the extended cuts today?

What went wrong?

I'll try to keep this short because it's been discussed elsewhere. The problems with the ending boil down to five things.

First, the ending felt too simplistic compared to the complex and multilayered games that preceded it. The endings of the first two games were heavily reliant on previous actions, with Mass Effect 2's ending being the best example of that. Perhaps all the storylines they had going ended up collapsing on their own weight, but I think most of us expected some sort of large final battle where the results were determined by resources and alliances accrued and accumulated during the rest of the games. That isn't what happened. Like, at all.

Second, Shepard dies unnecessarily...or lives, if you (possibly) sacrifice all Geth and Synthetic life. I'm not restating that blog post about why hero death is a stupid and borderline unhealthy trope, but here's another link to it.

Third, the Starchild is a stupid and unnecessary brat with terrible voice acting and worse writing. The Illusive Man, a Geth, EDI herself, a Keeper (you know, those plot device bugs who were never used for anything in spite of substantial build-up in the first games?), or even, why not, the Rachni Queen, would all have been better choices. Sure, you have the little weird kid running around in Shep's head through the first half of the game, but freaky children are a stupid cliche at best, and it didn't belong in this game. Add in all the stuff about madness in the excellent DLCs for the series and you have a sinister perspective on the little brat--who, we are somehow supposed to believe, is some kind of peaceful and neutral force. You choose the McGuffin or you epic-fail. I actually love the new fourth ending, but the last time I saw an ending this hamstrung was at a sex show involving bondage and oral pleasure. At least with the "refusal" option, the stupid storytelling bit at the end makes sense.

Fourth, your team crash lands on a random planet for no particular reason. Why? Why did this happen? Why did they get sucked into a portal? Sure, the extended endings fix that up a bit, but why does this even occur?

Fifth, that stupid damn storyteller ending. I love Synthesis, and I can stand Destroy because Shepard lives, but Control always felt evil to me. And yet all three of these end with a stupid cutscene after the credits that even Buzz Aldrin's cameo couldn't save. The Starchild voice actor returns (shudder) and an old man tells him he might go to the stars...in a way that implies all knowledge of space travel has been lost. That blatantly contradicts two of the three endings, and worse, the "tell me another story about the Shepard" bit teases us with the false promise of another game about our protagonist. You know, the game they promised they'd never make. This storytelling ending actually makes sense for the Refusal ending, which was the most coherent, but the fact that they left it in the extended endings felt like a slap in the face.

This is basically how I feel about the whole thing. 

Why are we rehashing all this?

Oh, there's a reason. The new game will be set at the end of the third. Are they going to retcon the ending? How will they deal with the incredible fame of Shepard's character if your character is just some scrub? Are you going to have somehow never heard of the most famous person in the galaxy, a.k.a. Space Jesus? It's going to focus on the multiplayer side of things, sure, but this feels like a stall for time. My partner called it a money-grab, and not the real sequel, and added, "unless I'm absolutely wrong, you can completely ignore this game." Did I mention that they explicitly promised the next game would be set in the far future?

Okay, fine; how could you possibly fix it?

Just abandoning the series--which would actually be wise--probably isn't a viable option. A jump backwards in time would have solved a lot of their problems, and quite a few fans have been hoping for something set during the human-Turian First Contact War. Jumping drastically far forward into the future would also be an option.

What I'd love to happen, as much as I will weep angry tears over the impossibility of it, would be a proper exploration of the Synthesis ending. The extended version hints that a golden age was dawning, but change is scary. There's plenty of conflict you could mine from the sudden friendliness of the Reapers, the ancient technologies gifted to the unprepared galaxy, the fact that all races and species have the possible opportunity to be immortal, and the equalization forced on everyone. Diplomacy games! New wars! Playing as a Reaper! Dealing with grieving! New conflict rising as unknown or rare civilizations are encountered! Religious conflict! All the ingredients of amazing story potentials are right there, and there is no way we'll get to play with those toys.

Synthesis in a nutshell. 

The lesson in all of this is that creating a series is hard, and kind of dangerous. It's hard to please fans at the best of times, but the more complicated your world gets and the more plot devices and plotlines you pile on, the easier it is to screw them up. Terry Goodkind's The Sword of Truth series is the only one even close to Mass Effect in terms of McGuffin implosions, and that was a mess too. The lesson is that introducing endless plot mechanics and shiny toys is a bad idea. And sometimes, you just have to pretend something didn't happen and move forward with the story instead of trying to fix an old problem that's basically unrepairable. Writing is not always fun and it's rarely "easy", but at least we can learn from the failures of others.

*****

Thanks for dropping by the nest once again. Don't miss any of the phuquerie. Find Michelle on Twitter, Facebook, and on Tumblr, and find her work on Amazon. Check back on the blog to see when one of the irregular posts has careened onto your feed. This is the one and only SciFiMagpie, over and out!