Back in March, I attended the Black Lives Matter panel entitled “Institutional Racism and the Black Body”, and I found many of the ideas discussed in the panel to be intriguing and relevant. While the concept of institutional racism was one I had encountered before this talk, the depth to which it was explored and the many perspectives surrounding it offered by both the panelists and the audience was greatly informative to me. By not spending time debating whether or not institutional racism actually exists, and instead focusing on how to amend this controversial concept to better treat non-white races, the panel was able to fully and properly explore just how institutional racism deeply affects our society on a regular basis.

Such institutional racism can also clearly be found in the video game industry, as many development and production studios are predominantly filled with white males. This vast majority has a large influence on which games are made, what characters may be featured within them, and what messages may be promoted via the game’s story. While there may very well be other factors in play as to how this majority came to be, one could clearly establish how institutional racism plays a large role in this result. Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, there are subtle but noticeable elements in any industry which push away potential workers of non-white races, and the video game industry is no exception.

So, how do we fix this ever-expanding problem of institutional racism? According to the panel, it all starts on an individual level. By choosing carefully which messages we want to promote and which messages we want to push back against, the panel argues that we can slowly but surely shift the way that institutions address the hiring of potential workers of any race. By making these changes, our society can positively change and influence the ideals and products created not just by the video game industry, but by numerous other industries whose decisions affect us on a regular basis.

Dating as far back as Greek mythology, the trope of creating a “perfect woman” is one that has pervaded all types of stories and mediums. Within this trope, one will often find a man who is unsatisfied with the manner in which real women treat him, and decides to create his vision of a woman out of different materials. This inanimate woman will usually come to life in some miraculous manner, bringing endless joy to the creator, who now gets to live and interact with his “perfect women”, one that is often devoid of any real personality, but is also unnaturally beautiful. This concept has continued to make itself present throughout human history, and, as our technological abilities improve, has even managed to become a partial reality to those who desire such an idea. The rest of this piece will explore the theme of the “perfect woman” in both a number of fictional mediums as well as today’s modern society.

One of the earlier examples of using androids as the replacement for a human woman can be found in Auguste Villiers de l’Isle-Adam’s 19^th Century novel, Tomorrow’s Eve. Within the book, a fictional version of Thomas Edison creates a female android for his friend who is depressed due to the many issues he has with his wife. During his tirade against his wife, Edison’s friend states that “Believe me, if she was nothing but the prettiest of women I wouldn’t pay so much attention to her, not for a minute” (pg. 40). So, to counteract this, the android which Edison creates and brings to “life” shares similar physical features with his friend’s wife, but has a much more toned down personality. Edison’s friend is initially suspicious but becomes very pleased with the android. By having a character reject his human wife and replace her with a robotic replica, l’Isle-Adam takes full advantage of the “perfect woman” trope, paying no regard to the numerous gender and social-political problems that the trope raises.

The video game industry has also had its fair share of dealings with the “perfect women” trope, especially from a behind-the-scenes perspective. While most other mediums give their creators the freedom to depict their characters however they please, video games push that freedom to new heights, with the ability to create human bodies and personalities completely from scratch, and display these choices in a visual and interactive manner. This incredible power has, since the industry’s inception, been granted mostly to males, who have often used these abilities to depict women from a more male-centric viewpoint. Video game franchises such as Grand Theft Auto and God of War, among others, tend to feature women with minimal personalities and unrealistic beauty standards, supposedly for the sake of the player’s enjoyment, despite the continuously increasing number of women video game players. By creating these virtual “perfect women”, game developers are only furthering the problematic nature of the trope, and, in doing so, pushing away potential audiences from playing their games.

The concept of creating a “perfect women” is one that has begun to become more prevalent in modern society as well, as is explored in the documentary The Mechanical Bride. The film shows an informative perspective on artificial women, those who create them, and those who purchase and live with them. As the documentary showed, artificial women have the ability to be depicted and used in numerous ways, and are loved by their owners not in spite of their inanimate nature, but primarily because of it, as they provide opportunities that real women might oppose. As technology continues to progress, the fictional concept of creating a “perfect women” is one that is increasingly becoming closer to a reality, virtually or physically, and, as this happens, one must question what the increasing relevance of this trope means for gender, sexuality, human nature, and numerous other aspects of life that affect us on a daily basis.

The gaming industry, since its’ inception, has been gendered towards a male perspective. This can be seen consistently throughout the past few decades, with the overwhelmingly large majority of player-characters being portrayed as, usually white, males, occasionally with non-playable female allies or, more discriminatorily, love interests in need of rescuing. The male perspective of the gaming industry can also be seen behind the scenes, which, while it has become more equally balanced over time, is still largely populated by male developers and programmers. Despite this one-sidedness, female players have become increasingly present in today’s gaming culture, and, while the industry still has a ways to go before coming close to reaching a more fair representation on gender, this gradual change in audience is one worth analyzing and observing in regards to the history of the gaming industry.

From the early days of computer gaming, a clear male perspective is seen in the way women are treated in video games. Games such as Softporn Adventure and Leisure Suit Larry in The Land of the Lounge Lizards are clear examples of adventure games which portrayed women as goals worth achieving, and nothing more. These troubled interpretations of women in gaming can be seen in a large number of popular and smaller games, as explored by Kaitlin Tremblay in her article “Intro to Gender Criticism for Gamers”, which cites both Tifa and Aeris from Final Fantasy VII, one of the more popular entries in the long running franchise, as worrying portrayals of female characters in gaming. This clear discrepancy in gendering in games is still clearly visible today, in games as recent as 2013’s Grand Theft Auto V, which features three playable characters, none of which happen to be female. The most common portrayl of women within this fictionalized Los Angeles is as prostitutes and strippers, and the few female characters that do make their way into the storyline are not given much kinder consideration either, such as Michael’s wife, who seems to exist only to complain, ask Michael for money, and cheat on him with numerous other men.

One of the main reasons behind this biased perspective in regards to gender in gaming are the people behind these popular games. Especially early on, although still very present in today’s gaming industry, the majority of the programmers and developers working on the biggest franchises were men. One clear example of this can be seen in popular gaming magazine PC Gamer’s September 1999 issue, which focused on 20 popular game makers, given the credence of “Game Gods”, only one of which happened to be female. This developer, Roberta Williams, alongside her husband Ken, co-founded Sierra Online, which spearheaded such popular franchises as King’s Quest. The small percentage of female developers was alarmingly, but also accurately, displayed by that feature, and while more and more female developers continue to make themselves present in the gaming industry, the people behind gaming’s most popular franchises still tend to be largely male.

As gaming continues to expand and evolve, a greater number of ways for women to become more present in the gaming industry, both virtually and behind the scenes, have appeared. Independent games are continuing to make a large impact on the industry, and these games tend to offer a more balanced take on gender representation, largely due to the small nature of both the game and the teams behind them. Even some of the larger publishers, such as EA and Nintendo, have both publicly committed to women in gaming, both as protagonists and developers. Despite this, the gaming industry as a whole still has a long way to go before reaching an acceptable level of gender representation, but by analyzing the events that led to the creation of this medium, hopefully the industry can better understand how to efficiently undertake this necessary task.

When comparing different works across two different mediums, while it may be simpler to discuss the similarities that the two works share, one could argue that it is more worthwhile to analyze the differences between the two pieces, and how those differences end up shaping the experience for the audience. Exploring these differences can help one better understand the intents and messages of both pieces, as well as how each is reflective of the medium it represents. While the play Stop, Kiss and the video game Coming Out Simulator 2014 share many themes in common, the way in which these two works handle interactivity and relatability separates these two pieces.

The play Stop, Kiss and the game Coming Out Simulator 2014 both attempt to deal with the complex issue of sexual orientation, and how it is perceived by society. Stop, Kiss tells a story through flashbacks and forward through time, as two women in New York discover feelings for each other, until one is brutally beaten by an unknown assailant. Coming Out Simulator 2014 tells a more personal, if not entirely true, story of one man’s own experiences with coming out to his tradition-oriented parents. Due to the nature of the two mediums represented here, one of the more obvious differences between the two is the level of interactivity the audience has over the way events play out. In Stop, Kiss, the audience is forced to witness the tragic tale told on stage, with no control over how events end up unfolding. This becomes especially vital during later scenes, as the two women make plans for an evening out, and the audience has no say regarding their plans, despite the fact that they know the unfortunate facts regarding what happens at the end of that night. This aspect differs greatly in Coming Out Simulator 2014, as the player chooses their own path through a dialogue-filled story, carefully deciding what to say to both the protagonist’s boyfriend and parents. While there are ultimately only two endings, even the smallest of details, such as which class the protagonist is failing, can change based on the player’s choices, allowing them to have an experience suited more to their desires, whatever those may be. This difference in interactivity makes a large difference on the experiences Stop, Kiss and Coming Out Simulator 2014 have to offer, as well as the intended messages each work has to offer.

In addition to interactivity, the relatability that the audience has with the characters of Stop, Kiss and Coming Out Simulator 2014 differs greatly between the two works. In Stop, Kiss, the two main characters are clearly established, both as post-college women each with distinct personalities and likes/dislikes. While there may be elements of those two characters which specific viewers can relate to, such as when one of the women is shown dancing alone in her apartment during an early scene of the play, creating two protagonists with set identities makes it somewhat more difficult for a wide variety of viewers to place themselves in the shoes of either character. This element is shown in contrast with Coming Out Simulator 2014, which displays its characters in simpler formats, via stick figures with differently colored text-bubbles. While it is established early on that the player-character is a male, the simplistic nature of the graphics, as well as the easily-adjustable personality of the character, makes it much easier for a player to not only imagine themselves, but a wide variety of other personalities inside the mind of this one person. By separating themselves in regards to the relatability of their characters, Stop, Kiss and Coming Out Simulator 2014 are both able to offer greatly contrasting experiences, despite the common themes shared between the two works.

These two key elements, interactivity and relatability, clearly show how thematically similar works can still present unique stories and experiences for widely varied audiences. While Coming Out Simulator 2014 may seem to have an edge in these two categories, by offering clear means of interactivity and easily-relatable character design, Stop, Kiss’s focus on presenting a clear, focused story and message is just as valuable to further understanding of complex and controversial issues and themes such as the ones presented here.

In any type of media where a story is told, be it video games, movies, or books, these stories will always contain a variety of socially relevant messages. Some of which may or may not be intended by the creator of the piece of work to be construed in one specific manner or another. These messages often affect how users enjoy or interpret certain parts of the work, depending on that person’s opinion of and interactions with the topic in the real world. For the creator of the piece, it is important for them to realize what effects certain scenes and themes might have on a variety of potential users, and make sure that the topics discussed are handled with the care and attention they deserve. In my opinion, some of the socially relevant topics brought up in Ernest Cline’s sci-fi novel Ready Player One are not explored as fully as they should be, instead being mentioned in a small number of scenes, if that, and then largely ignored with no proper evaluation of the implications that topic has in the context of the world Cline has created.

Ready Player One tells the story of Wade Watts, a teenager who spends his free time searching for a multibillion dollar secret stored away in the advanced virtual reality known as OASIS. With Earth crumbling around them, both environmentally and socially, most of humanity spends significant periods of time inside this virtual world, in which they work, play, and explore alongside countless other virtual avatars. The idea of billions of humans doing most of their daily activities in a non-real space easily breeds a lot of interesting and, in a society where the internet is becoming more and more of a necessity, relevant questions that could benefit from further exploration. Unfortunately, these questions are often brushed off as quickly as they are brought up, merely scratching the surface at the importance of these social themes. For example, in the opening stages of the book, as Clive further discusses the abilities and reach of the OASIS, he writes: “Before long, billions of people around the world were working and playing in the OASIS every day. Some of them met, fell in love, and got married without ever setting foot on the same continent. The lines of distinction between a person’s real identity and that of their avatar began to blur” (Clive 60).

And just like that, the book never returns to these topics, at least not in a broader sense. There are a few scenes later in the novel where Wade and his friends do have some personal realizations about their own and others’ real identities, but these scenes are unique and specific to them, and do not discuss beyond those scenes how this distinction is affecting the rest of society. Similarly, Wade and his love interest, Art3mis, do attempt to have a relationship without any real world interactions. The difficulties that arise from this do briefly touch on the debate-worthy topic of love in a virtual reality. But their relationship should not have to speak for the countless other relationships that are occurring during that time, since many of the events that affect the two of them are not affecting the billions of other OASIS users. Allowing the reader to better understand a broader sense of the nature of the relationships that happen in this virtual reality centered society, as well as some of the more common issues that arise from the increasingly slimmer line between one’s real identity and their virtual one, would have provided a more complete and profound experience with the novel and its relation to our society today.

Despite these disappointing elements, Ready Player One does make for a highly enjoyable read, full of action and adventure, twists and turns, and too many 1980’s references to count. While the lack of a proper exploration of some of the more controversial themes discussed in the novel does not necessarily detract from the reading experience, it would have been more beneficial if the reader had seen more broader, varied, and deeper examples of the ramifications of a virtual society and how they relate to our technology-based society today.

Since I am planning on writing my final research paper on the recent PS4 game Infamous: Second Son and, more specifically, how the morality affects both how we play and interpret the game, I thought it would be useful to include my opinions on the game overall as well here on the blog, since most of them wouldn’t have much relevance in my actual paper.

For those that don’t know, Infamous: Second Son is the third game in the Infamous series, created by Sucker Punch, and unlike previous games, ditches protagonist Cole MacGrath in lieu of Delsin Rowe, a sarcastic trouble-making young adult who, at the start of the game, learns that he is able to gain superpowers when he comes into contact with other power-wielding people, known as Conduits. However, in a world where Conduits are feared and rejected, Delsin’s newfound abilities lead to the endangering of his homeland, which forces Delsin and his brother Reggie to travel to Seattle, which has recently been occupied by the Department of Unified Protection, whose leader Brooke Augustine’s main goal is to capture all Conduits by any means necessary.

This naturally leads to some violent encounters between Delsin and the D.U.P, which serves as the core gameplay, with the player learning new powers and abilities throughout the game. The fighting is fast-paced and exciting, as players must constantly be dodging bullets and attacking the enemies with a unique arsenal of weapons, allowing for both ranged and close attacks. Each power Delsin gains comes with a basic shooting, grenade, and missile power, as well as a special ability, but the ways in which each affect the enemies vary greatly, especially as they become upgraded, and allow for a lot of experimentation within each combat scenario.

The plot is a bit on the short and simplistic side for an open world game, clocking in at under 15 hours if you also include side missions. However, the version of Seattle that Sucker Punch created is spectacular, with an incredible attention to detail, that is no doubt assisted by the game’s impressive graphics. These graphics also assist in the story sequences, with some of the most realistic facial ranges I’ve seen in a game, mainly due to the motion capture and voice work of stars Troy Baker and Travis Willingham. The sound design is pretty special too, enhancing the natural feel of this supernatural take on Seattle.

Despite the game’s hurried story, the action-packed and unique gameplay, realistic graphics, and astounding world make this the best Infamous to date, and is currently one of the best reasons to pick up a PS4.

While reading the articles on Rock Band, I continued to notice the repeating trend of the importance of the peripherals that allow you to play the games, like the plastic guitars, drum sets, and microphones. This led me to think about other games and game genres that emphasized the importance of having extra devices. For example, many racing game fans I know prefer to play with a more realistic driving wheel, ranging from the more hardcore devices that help enhance the experiences found in games like Gran Turismo, to the simpler attachments like the Wii Wheel for Mario Kart Wii. Both of these games could potentially be played with a regular controller, but some feel that these extra devices will allow for more enhanced immersion, which is understandable. Similar examples can be found for shooting games, where gun-like devices help the player relate more to their in-game character’s violent actions. And then there’s Kinect, which attempts to remove the necessity of these external devices, and uses you as the controller, so that you may become completely immersed with the on-screen content by becoming the car driver or gun shooter.

My mind continued down this path, and began to wonder: While adding the extra devices can enhance the immersive feel of a game, does it also enhance it’s artistry? While Rock Band unquestionably makes you feel more like a band member with the peripherals it uses then if it used your average controller, does this extra step make these type of games more artistic then those without peripherals? Would games be taken more seriously from an artistic viewpoint if they all had representative devices? Or can games be just as artistic without them, and that what happens on-screen is more important then what devices you use to interact with the game?

Personally, I have somewhat of a mixed opinion on these types of questions. There are definitely clear examples, like Rock Band, where peripherals are key to enhancing your experience with the game, since the on-screen content is rather minimal. However, there are also definitive examples where I feel that a peripheral would only take away from the entertainment aspect of a game. I’ve never thought when I was playing Madden that I needed a football controller, as I feel that would only stand to take away from my enjoyment of the game. There are also examples already present where gamers have felt that the peripherals have actually subtracted elements of immersion, when the devices don’t work as intended. One of the most recent examples of this type of failure is The Fighter Within, a Kinect game which encouraged you to perform real-life fighting moves so that they would be replicated in-game, but, since those weren’t usually properly recognized, the best tactics often ended up including arm and leg flailing in the hopes that the game will interpret them as powerful attacks. So, my belief is, when used correctly, peripherals can most certainly enhance the immersion and enjoyment of a game, but they definitely aren’t required for a game to be considered fun or artistic.

Before I start, I should note that the expansion of the ideas that define game genres that the articles discussed was very intriguing, and certainly helped change my position on game genres, which I had previously considered to be slightly different from the norm. However, like the articles, I am going to be discussing one problem in particular that I have with the common conceptions and beliefs behind game genres, as opposed to the more encompassing ideas that the articles presented.

My biggest issue that I have with game genres is the stigma and stereotypes that have become attached to certain genres. I know some friends who tend to use words like “indie” or 2D to attach a negative sentiment to the game, as if the size of the development team or the overall aesthetics automatically determine the quality of a game, regardless of how it actually plays. When the average gamer hears first-person, their mind may be more likely to go towards Call of Duty, a franchise which many gaming communities have made it common-place to associate with unoriginality and repetition. However, pretty much any genre has not just one, but a variety of games that contrast these stereotypes. Modern indie games like Braid and Limbo have been received overwhelmingly positive by critics and gamers, and first-person games have shown that they don’t only have to be cookie-cutter shooters, with the likes of Portal and Dishonored showing completely different experiences from the same perspective.

Yet, despite this, the stigmas remain, bringing with an unnecessary bias that repel gamers from certain genres that they deem unworthy. This saddens me as a gamer, as someone who likes to recommend games that people might not play otherwise, and as someone who enjoys hearing about the unique experiences others have with these and other games. But, if we as a gaming society continue to attach negative beliefs to certain genres, then this will prevent us from experiencing games that not only contrast these beliefs, but also open our minds to new and intriguing concepts that have the potential to affect now only how we play other games, but how we interpret the world around us as well. So, the next time someone comes to you with a game recommendation, and your initial impression is to disregard it due to previous experiences you’ve had with games of a similar nature, instead, give the game a fair shot, ignoring any biases you may have regarding the genre. Doing this not only opens you up to more exciting ways to enjoy video games, but also creates a more open and friendly gaming society.

As I read both of the articles on the technological improvement of video games in the 1990’s, I found myself impressed with how uniquely developers were able to use the brand new 3D technology presented to them. With Doom and Myst being essentially on opposite end of the spectrum of video games, it amazed me that both came out during a time where technology of this nature was still not fully understood, due to its recent introduction to the medium at the start of the fifth generation of consoles. As anyone with a current-gen console (PS4, Xbox One, Wii U) can attest to, while the technological improvements are quite visible, most of the games released so far for any of the consoles have stayed within a rather limited section of the spectrum, focusing more on what the mainstream audiences appreciate, which apparently is guns and sports. While this is destined to change, as this console generation has only barely begun, the fact that both Doom and Myst arrived at the start of their console generation makes me wonder why the same spectrum is not present at the beginning of this one.

Another key thought that came to my mind while reading these articles was while they both delved into how the innovative technology was able to change the abilities of the game, it never gave a clear opinion on whether or not these advances gave games the capability to be more artistic, or if their artistic nature was left unchanged even as the technology progressed. While there is no clear answer to this question, as is the case when questioning the artistic nature of many works, I still thought it was an interesting question to ponder, and one that is especially relevant to this class. Are the most complex games of a later console generation automatically more likely to be considered art then ones of previous generations, just because of the increases in technology? Is Grand Theft Auto V, one of the most technologically and graphically impressive games of the previous generation, more artistic than Super Mario Bros., a game technologically limited by the capabilities of the NES?

Personally, while I think technology certainly has the ability to enhance a game’s ability to be considered more artistic, I don’t believe it makes technologically limited games any less artistic. When analyzing games artistically, it is important to be aware of these limits, and to be able to recognize the developers’ intentions when creating the game during its time period. To me, the 2D graphics and turn-based gameplay of the original Final Fantasy games have a similar level of artistry to the 3D graphics and real-time gameplay of the modern Final Fantasy games, despite the latter having a clear technological advantage over the former. While playing either, I experience similar beliefs and intentions, whether it be to explore the original worlds, succeed in a battle, or progress in the plot. These ideas overcome the limits of technology and, to me, show that games can be artistic regardless of the electronics that power them.

Our most recent assignment to create a universal, personal, or genre canon of video games was a very intriguing one to me, and raised a lot of questions, both about myself as a gamer and video games as a whole. Yet, the one that I kept returning to was what exactly establishing a canon means for any type of work or media. If one is able to create a canon for a number of works, does that make the subject of the canon something that can be viewed as significant to society? Does that make it art? Or does it just mean that a large number of this type of work have been produced in slightly varying ways, with no real meaning behind them?

This last question particularly conflicted me when I was thinking about canons for different genres for video games. While some, like sports, show clear paths of evolution for both gameplay and design when taken as a whole, others are well-known for barely showing any types of significant changes between different versions. Just take a look at match-3 games, of which there are hundreds and hundreds of available spread across computers and mobile devices. Yet, with the exception of aesthetics, each entry remains largely unchanged, to the point where one might not be able to tell the difference between two separate versions of a match-3 game if they were shown side-by-side. Also unlike sports games, which stick to an annualized release schedule, these games come out with no regard to when previous entries have been or future entries will be released, focusing instead on how they will manage to stick out from the other entries, and usually resorting to micro transactions and pop-up ads.

And yet, both of these genres have a significant number of entries, and one could argue that both of these genres are able to have sufficient and useful canons. So, does that mean that match-3 games, despite their lack of originality between entries, are just as viable as any other game genre? Or are just as viable as any other form of work which can be canonized? While I don’t believe there is a clear answer to any of the questions posed in this post, I mainly just wanted to get out what I had been thinking and discussing with others in regards to the video game canon assignment. I’d be intrigued to hear what any of your attempts at answering these questions would include, and hope that this article has made you ponder on some of the same issues I’ve been thinking about.