This "Open Letter" made me laugh so much, namely because it was the business equivalent of complaining to the principal after someone copied off your English assignment.
http://mumbrella.com.au/quickflix-boss-tells-netflix-end-back-door-access-aussies-251572
Quickflix, the reason why people don't use your service is because it is awful. Not only is it overpriced, but features a dreadful interface, deceptive "trial" scheme, pitiful library and does that uniquely Australian "thing" of linking pay-per-view films in with paid subscriptions. This is not 2001. You are running a content business in an era of filesharing. The reason people like Netflix is because it has a brilliant interface across all platforms, great content and a great price. Whether you like it or not you are not competing with them on Australian terms because not every company in the world wants to have a local subsidiary here.
Nor should it. If you have a problem with your crappy media options, then take it up with your suppliers. Lobby the government to stop Foxtel leeching exclusive rights to everything, everywhere, all the time. Take your fight to your true enemy, the one actively stopping you from getting movies made in the past 5 years so they can strangle the market with their (superior) streaming service Pronto. Lambasting Netflix because it has "stolen" 200,000 customers from you is laughable since they would have never been your customers in the first place. What would you have offered them?
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Experiences with the Xbox One
It's a little ironic that this blog post is only two posts away from a rant about the post-reveal fallout. In all honest, I never thought I would have ended up with an Xbox One. My choice had largely been made after E3 and it was really only due to the enormous ineptitude of Harvey Norman and their pathetic system of pre-orders that bumped me out of the launch day queue. I had one dead console and another practically useless for playing any media - I needed a new BR player/Netflix streamer quickly and waiting until the end of the December/Mid-Jan wasn't going to cut it. If even by default, the Xbox One originally got a sale purely because stock was available.
But then I started using it, and was impressed that the majority of the claims Microsoft made, worked. The Windows 8.1 inspired UI is much more refined that it is on PC - allowing a limited amount of customisation, but then also rearranging tile placement based on how the console is actually used. For example - both the TV, Bluray and Netflix apps are largely used more than any other ATM, mainly because I generally *don't play* a lot of games on consoles. They aren't my primary devices - especially when the lineup is fairly sparse. As a result, the Home screen puts those apps in quick and easy focus, allowing me to "Pin" the others in a window to the left.
The other surprisingly good addition is the workable voice activation, that ingrains itself in almost every App. I can pause DVDs, select Netflix profiles, bring up the GPS in NFS: Rivals. It works 9 out of 10 times and is great when you don't have the controller handy or don't feel like digging through menus. The Kinect is much more useful in a more subtle way too - it picks up who is using the console and logs them in, follows the active speaker in Skype, and tracks bodies and even fingers a zillion times better. The only issue I had is that it took a decent amount of calibration and placement to make it reliable.
One very underrated addition is the SmartGlass app - it works *perfectly*. It essentially allows for full remote/local management and control of the Xbox and XBL profile. I can check/add/send friends, messages, achievements. I can control and open apps via a touch remote or direct command. I can load up second screen companions for games. It worked straight out of the gate and it's probably one of the best pieces of software MS have made in quite a few years.
Then there's the controller. It's the 360 controller with grippy analog sticks, better triggers with fine rumble inside them. That's basically it - it's an even better improvement on easily the best controller ever made. A lot of people have claimed it still takes second fiddle to the new DS4 - also a markedly better improvement on the abysmal DS3, but still missing Asymmetric analog sticks and a deeper recess on top.
Really, and most quixotically, what the console is really missing is decent games. Forza 5 and DR3 are great titles - but they aren't really for me. I don't pretend to be into Sims, and a lot of the microtransaction rubbish put me off instantly. DR3 suffers from one of my personal bugbears - a great, fun, engaging title that has awful controls and a silly inventory system. The rest of the lineup is largely cross-plat stuff, but Rivals is really the standout for me. It's a ton of fun to play, doesn't take itself seriously and features a very cool system of cat and mouse with enough extra flavour to not grow old.
Its on that same token that most of the core people I play console games with don't own a XB1. Yet. Half of them bought PS4s or are simply waiting for next year when a killer app pops up that they can't resist. So, essentially, I'm back on the PC until the stars align - which is likely when Watch Dogs and Titanfall arrive in March, forcing people to take the leap. By that point I'll probably have a PS4 anyway which will render any sort of cross-platform problem moot in any case. But for now, I'm happy with the One - it's a supremely capable TV companion that is simply begging for a host of new games, both Indie and AAA.
But then I started using it, and was impressed that the majority of the claims Microsoft made, worked. The Windows 8.1 inspired UI is much more refined that it is on PC - allowing a limited amount of customisation, but then also rearranging tile placement based on how the console is actually used. For example - both the TV, Bluray and Netflix apps are largely used more than any other ATM, mainly because I generally *don't play* a lot of games on consoles. They aren't my primary devices - especially when the lineup is fairly sparse. As a result, the Home screen puts those apps in quick and easy focus, allowing me to "Pin" the others in a window to the left.
The other surprisingly good addition is the workable voice activation, that ingrains itself in almost every App. I can pause DVDs, select Netflix profiles, bring up the GPS in NFS: Rivals. It works 9 out of 10 times and is great when you don't have the controller handy or don't feel like digging through menus. The Kinect is much more useful in a more subtle way too - it picks up who is using the console and logs them in, follows the active speaker in Skype, and tracks bodies and even fingers a zillion times better. The only issue I had is that it took a decent amount of calibration and placement to make it reliable.
One very underrated addition is the SmartGlass app - it works *perfectly*. It essentially allows for full remote/local management and control of the Xbox and XBL profile. I can check/add/send friends, messages, achievements. I can control and open apps via a touch remote or direct command. I can load up second screen companions for games. It worked straight out of the gate and it's probably one of the best pieces of software MS have made in quite a few years.
Then there's the controller. It's the 360 controller with grippy analog sticks, better triggers with fine rumble inside them. That's basically it - it's an even better improvement on easily the best controller ever made. A lot of people have claimed it still takes second fiddle to the new DS4 - also a markedly better improvement on the abysmal DS3, but still missing Asymmetric analog sticks and a deeper recess on top.
Really, and most quixotically, what the console is really missing is decent games. Forza 5 and DR3 are great titles - but they aren't really for me. I don't pretend to be into Sims, and a lot of the microtransaction rubbish put me off instantly. DR3 suffers from one of my personal bugbears - a great, fun, engaging title that has awful controls and a silly inventory system. The rest of the lineup is largely cross-plat stuff, but Rivals is really the standout for me. It's a ton of fun to play, doesn't take itself seriously and features a very cool system of cat and mouse with enough extra flavour to not grow old.
Its on that same token that most of the core people I play console games with don't own a XB1. Yet. Half of them bought PS4s or are simply waiting for next year when a killer app pops up that they can't resist. So, essentially, I'm back on the PC until the stars align - which is likely when Watch Dogs and Titanfall arrive in March, forcing people to take the leap. By that point I'll probably have a PS4 anyway which will render any sort of cross-platform problem moot in any case. But for now, I'm happy with the One - it's a supremely capable TV companion that is simply begging for a host of new games, both Indie and AAA.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
The Xbox One: Or how Microsoft has finally jumped the shark.
I've been bitching, whinging and flat out *moaning* about the Xbox One since I woke up the day after the launch and read through the various summaries of the launch event. Now, it's no secret that I'm significantly more positioned towards the realm of PC - I write primarily for a PC focused website, the platform is my primary games format and I've become less impressed with the conduct of console makers since they decided to turn their back on the customers that actually matter. You know, the ones that evangelize their systems and help to grow their takeup through word of mouth and bucketloads of free internet marketing?
But let's face it - the PS4's bottomless pit of an announcement was a pitiful excuse to stretch hype over 6 months as they fought off concerns of becoming gradually directionless and static. But, for all its flaws (like, you know, not showing the console it was launching) it actually had a focus on games, from start to finish, and exemplified Sony's growing commitment to supporting independent developers and creating a marketplace for innovation. We're told that their E3 conference promises to finally show off the kit, which we basically already know about now, plus embellish a little bit more on what they're planning to bring to the table.
Or, basically, why the fuck we should invest in a PS4 when a Steam Box has cheaper games and the capacity to upgrade. But I digress.
The primary problem with the Xbox is not the Xbox One at all, but more Microsoft's complete lack of long term direction or market realization. Since their campaign to convert the Xbox from a gaming centric device to some kind of Apple TV hybrid has gone down about as well with gamers as a cholera outbreak, Microsoft have chosen to interpret steady sales of the 360 as some kind of mandate to continue to make terrible decisions. These decisions include, but are not exclusive to, the lockout of IPTV applications to non-gold members and to, basically, force people to pay money to harness a primary aspect of the game they have already paid for.
Microsoft figure that Xbox popularity is almost guaranteed, in the same way that iPhone owners continually buy the next iteration without consideration to competition, and have thus created the iPhone 5 upgrade to the iPhone 3S that is the 360. Sure, it's the same OS (largely), same Kinect (basically), and upgraded hardware, so why shouldn't people just dropkick their old systems into the bin and move to the new hotness? Well, I'm sure the fact that none of their titles are backwards compatible would probably be a large factor in reducing the excitement of upgrading.
But what's most painful about this new direction is the focus on something Microsoft has been trying, unsuccessfully, to crack since the mid 90's - TV. They are fucking obsessed with it. From WebTV, to an entire version of XP dedicated to it, Microsoft, for some reason, want you to watch TV through their eyes.
This would have been all well and good... in 1997. But TV is increasingly becoming online, on-demand and unhinged. Smart TVs already include half the shit Microsoft is pushing, and they don't require TWO extra boxes to do the job. Don't have a smart TV? Well, you will within the next 3 years, since it's practically a standard now. The Xbox One's presentation tied itself so tightly into this "innovation" that it practically alienated its entire global install base (which is remarkably sizable and profitable) and relegated their launch devices to be the neutered and empty, missing half the features that took Microsoft almost a year to implement after the original Kinect launched.
That's not even the worst part. Then there's the DRM that needs to check in on your box at least once a day to check you are behaving. Plus the fee that's charged when you buy used game software either at retail or on your device. Then there's the extension of Microsoft's extraordinarily stupid "Gold" program that should NOT include access to multiplayer. Then there's the expansion of voice controls that don't work properly on the original Kinect. Then there is the lack of emphasis on decent titles and a lack of consistency on policy across the board.
It's clear that Microsoft are no longer happy to focus their strengths on the things they can do right - they want to have those dirty fingers in every pie, even if those fingers are literally *covered* in that disgusting cholera.
But let's face it - the PS4's bottomless pit of an announcement was a pitiful excuse to stretch hype over 6 months as they fought off concerns of becoming gradually directionless and static. But, for all its flaws (like, you know, not showing the console it was launching) it actually had a focus on games, from start to finish, and exemplified Sony's growing commitment to supporting independent developers and creating a marketplace for innovation. We're told that their E3 conference promises to finally show off the kit, which we basically already know about now, plus embellish a little bit more on what they're planning to bring to the table.
Or, basically, why the fuck we should invest in a PS4 when a Steam Box has cheaper games and the capacity to upgrade. But I digress.
The primary problem with the Xbox is not the Xbox One at all, but more Microsoft's complete lack of long term direction or market realization. Since their campaign to convert the Xbox from a gaming centric device to some kind of Apple TV hybrid has gone down about as well with gamers as a cholera outbreak, Microsoft have chosen to interpret steady sales of the 360 as some kind of mandate to continue to make terrible decisions. These decisions include, but are not exclusive to, the lockout of IPTV applications to non-gold members and to, basically, force people to pay money to harness a primary aspect of the game they have already paid for.
Microsoft figure that Xbox popularity is almost guaranteed, in the same way that iPhone owners continually buy the next iteration without consideration to competition, and have thus created the iPhone 5 upgrade to the iPhone 3S that is the 360. Sure, it's the same OS (largely), same Kinect (basically), and upgraded hardware, so why shouldn't people just dropkick their old systems into the bin and move to the new hotness? Well, I'm sure the fact that none of their titles are backwards compatible would probably be a large factor in reducing the excitement of upgrading.
But what's most painful about this new direction is the focus on something Microsoft has been trying, unsuccessfully, to crack since the mid 90's - TV. They are fucking obsessed with it. From WebTV, to an entire version of XP dedicated to it, Microsoft, for some reason, want you to watch TV through their eyes.
This would have been all well and good... in 1997. But TV is increasingly becoming online, on-demand and unhinged. Smart TVs already include half the shit Microsoft is pushing, and they don't require TWO extra boxes to do the job. Don't have a smart TV? Well, you will within the next 3 years, since it's practically a standard now. The Xbox One's presentation tied itself so tightly into this "innovation" that it practically alienated its entire global install base (which is remarkably sizable and profitable) and relegated their launch devices to be the neutered and empty, missing half the features that took Microsoft almost a year to implement after the original Kinect launched.
That's not even the worst part. Then there's the DRM that needs to check in on your box at least once a day to check you are behaving. Plus the fee that's charged when you buy used game software either at retail or on your device. Then there's the extension of Microsoft's extraordinarily stupid "Gold" program that should NOT include access to multiplayer. Then there's the expansion of voice controls that don't work properly on the original Kinect. Then there is the lack of emphasis on decent titles and a lack of consistency on policy across the board.
It's clear that Microsoft are no longer happy to focus their strengths on the things they can do right - they want to have those dirty fingers in every pie, even if those fingers are literally *covered* in that disgusting cholera.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Bioshock Infinite: Almost ruined by combat
Bioshock Infinite has torn me in a manner unlike any other game to date.
On the one hand, I thoughtfully enjoyed it. I adored the floating city of Columbia, the mysterious and hidden path of the protagonist, the idle companionship of Elizabeth, and the frenetic pacing of a story based around regret, redemption, suppression and brutality.
On the other, the longer I played through the game, the more I found myself sighing whenever I popped into the pre-determined arena of a "major" battle. The pre-placed rifts featuring an assortment of health packs, salt, appropriate weapons and almost useless cover. Enemies standing around in well spaced positions, with an array of weaponry designed to swarm and suppress my position as quickly as possible. A few hooks to exploit that rarely available "air to ground" insta-stun that rendered you open to attack from everyone anyway.
There's no strategy here. Enemies don't allow it. Entering the battlefield invites instantaneous flanking, rocket spam, random spawns, and sometimes even a bunny hopping Handyman with a convenient weak spot. You can't stealth in and around to land hard attacks. Elizabeth can't use her immense power to actually harm anyone, for some reason, but can through you ammo and salt at opportune times. Every now and again there's a skyline you can hop on, but I found myself thinking that the pace of these fights didn't match well against the controls nor your field of vision.
But what incensed me more than anything else was the sheer pointlessness of many fights. Why did I have to kill Lady Comstock three times? Why did I need to protect a ship when I could have flown to my destination on a giant robot bird I was able to control? Why did every single nemesis have a team of henchmen that I needed to kill almost constantly, when most of them seemed to enjoy having a yarn? Why did the game feel that I should be able to shoot the innocent poor but not the innocuous rich?
I continued playing because I adored the moments in between. I loved finding audio logs which drip-fed various dimensions of the puzzle and offered a different perspective. Winding my way through Elizabeth's prison and earning her trust. Gazing at the sheer beauty and detail in everything - from Fink's enormous factories to Comstock's multi-structure ode to himself. Digging up the detail of this seemingly picturesque locale that was rotten to the core.
So why did I need to kill everything, almost all of the time? Why was my gun on screen during dialogue, pointing at people it didn't need to be pointing at? Why couldn't I explore an area without having to run into
nameless thugs who rushed me for simply existing in that particular place?
It didn't have to be this way either. The game started well. It offered me a weapon but spent a fairly long time establishing the scene without using it. By the time I had brained my first guard, I was ready for a fight, although I didn't know I'd be hoarding ammo and SCIENCE because of the perpetual chance I'd have to electricute a bunch of guys enough so I could blow *all* of their heads off in one shot.
Combat ceased to be a potent mechanic about halfway through the game. I was tired of it. The rare moments when B:I decided you didn't have to do it if you didn't want to, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could explore a little, stare at the posters and hunt around for more logs. Oh, wait, there's a dude in here, better kill him now he's seen me. Oh great, 20 more dudes. Kllkillkillkill until the music stops.
But the final fight was the last straw. Simply put, it was one of the worst climatic fight scenes I've had the displeasure of experiencing. What could have been a powerful lead up to a spectacular ending, was instead a clusterfuck of timed fighting, waved enemies and my personal pet hate, vehicles with health. I grit my teeth and ground through it.
I loved the ending, but I couldn't help but think it was spoiled by the preceding few hours. At the point things got interesting and ramped up, the designers' felt that their only option was to simply overwhelm the player with combat. So much so, that by the time I reached the bow of the ship to meet Elizabeth, I had 3 shotgun shells left.
On the one hand, I thoughtfully enjoyed it. I adored the floating city of Columbia, the mysterious and hidden path of the protagonist, the idle companionship of Elizabeth, and the frenetic pacing of a story based around regret, redemption, suppression and brutality.
On the other, the longer I played through the game, the more I found myself sighing whenever I popped into the pre-determined arena of a "major" battle. The pre-placed rifts featuring an assortment of health packs, salt, appropriate weapons and almost useless cover. Enemies standing around in well spaced positions, with an array of weaponry designed to swarm and suppress my position as quickly as possible. A few hooks to exploit that rarely available "air to ground" insta-stun that rendered you open to attack from everyone anyway.
There's no strategy here. Enemies don't allow it. Entering the battlefield invites instantaneous flanking, rocket spam, random spawns, and sometimes even a bunny hopping Handyman with a convenient weak spot. You can't stealth in and around to land hard attacks. Elizabeth can't use her immense power to actually harm anyone, for some reason, but can through you ammo and salt at opportune times. Every now and again there's a skyline you can hop on, but I found myself thinking that the pace of these fights didn't match well against the controls nor your field of vision.
But what incensed me more than anything else was the sheer pointlessness of many fights. Why did I have to kill Lady Comstock three times? Why did I need to protect a ship when I could have flown to my destination on a giant robot bird I was able to control? Why did every single nemesis have a team of henchmen that I needed to kill almost constantly, when most of them seemed to enjoy having a yarn? Why did the game feel that I should be able to shoot the innocent poor but not the innocuous rich?
I continued playing because I adored the moments in between. I loved finding audio logs which drip-fed various dimensions of the puzzle and offered a different perspective. Winding my way through Elizabeth's prison and earning her trust. Gazing at the sheer beauty and detail in everything - from Fink's enormous factories to Comstock's multi-structure ode to himself. Digging up the detail of this seemingly picturesque locale that was rotten to the core.
So why did I need to kill everything, almost all of the time? Why was my gun on screen during dialogue, pointing at people it didn't need to be pointing at? Why couldn't I explore an area without having to run into
nameless thugs who rushed me for simply existing in that particular place?
It didn't have to be this way either. The game started well. It offered me a weapon but spent a fairly long time establishing the scene without using it. By the time I had brained my first guard, I was ready for a fight, although I didn't know I'd be hoarding ammo and SCIENCE because of the perpetual chance I'd have to electricute a bunch of guys enough so I could blow *all* of their heads off in one shot.
Combat ceased to be a potent mechanic about halfway through the game. I was tired of it. The rare moments when B:I decided you didn't have to do it if you didn't want to, I breathed a sigh of relief. I could explore a little, stare at the posters and hunt around for more logs. Oh, wait, there's a dude in here, better kill him now he's seen me. Oh great, 20 more dudes. Kllkillkillkill until the music stops.
But the final fight was the last straw. Simply put, it was one of the worst climatic fight scenes I've had the displeasure of experiencing. What could have been a powerful lead up to a spectacular ending, was instead a clusterfuck of timed fighting, waved enemies and my personal pet hate, vehicles with health. I grit my teeth and ground through it.
I loved the ending, but I couldn't help but think it was spoiled by the preceding few hours. At the point things got interesting and ramped up, the designers' felt that their only option was to simply overwhelm the player with combat. So much so, that by the time I reached the bow of the ship to meet Elizabeth, I had 3 shotgun shells left.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Can we stop being angry yet?
In the last year or so we've been surrounded by industry controversy, from the shocking abuse of a Bioware writer to the ill considered comments by a Gearbox developer, and it seems that we're always ready for a good fight. To get PROPER angry.
In most cases, it's entirely warranted - sexism, misogyny and homophobia have been left rife and unchallenged within the community for far too long, thus the growing number of people on social media and journalists at large have been fighting (mostly) to expose it. I've happily noticed an ever growing number of people, both male and female, calling foul on most of this practices which tells me there is, however small, movement on tackling these issues.
But the flip-side of this crusade to tackle these problems has increased the level of general anger and antagonism, both on social media, blogs and larger outlets between gamers and journos alike. When most of us would usually bind together to fight as a unit against outside forces (Jack Thompson, Politicans, Mainstream media rubbish), on these problems we prefer to blame each other.
It doesn't help that the internet has created the extraordinarily easy opportunity for any idiot with a keyboard to create a blog, slap on an Ad Words banner, and write a horrible headline with garbage underneath to become instantly notorious. This won't take long to hit the social airwaves and before long, we're all fighting with each other again over a troll.
I get it. These people shouldn't be writing this sort of crap. But we've been through so much turmoil and snark that it really doesn't take much for us to get angry again at the drop of a hat. It doesn't justify flooding your feed with furious retweets and .@'s because you read something designed to be offensive on JoeBlogGamesVille.com - all you are doing is perpetuating the cycle and nullifying the *REAL* rage when someone actually important says or does something offensive.
Let's all step back, have a breath, and focus on the things that matter: The games, the people who make them and the upstanding community of great people who contribute to the creative process every day. Feel free to do your jobs to hold people accountable for their views, but maybe make sure those people are actually worth the effort.
In most cases, it's entirely warranted - sexism, misogyny and homophobia have been left rife and unchallenged within the community for far too long, thus the growing number of people on social media and journalists at large have been fighting (mostly) to expose it. I've happily noticed an ever growing number of people, both male and female, calling foul on most of this practices which tells me there is, however small, movement on tackling these issues.
But the flip-side of this crusade to tackle these problems has increased the level of general anger and antagonism, both on social media, blogs and larger outlets between gamers and journos alike. When most of us would usually bind together to fight as a unit against outside forces (Jack Thompson, Politicans, Mainstream media rubbish), on these problems we prefer to blame each other.
It doesn't help that the internet has created the extraordinarily easy opportunity for any idiot with a keyboard to create a blog, slap on an Ad Words banner, and write a horrible headline with garbage underneath to become instantly notorious. This won't take long to hit the social airwaves and before long, we're all fighting with each other again over a troll.
I get it. These people shouldn't be writing this sort of crap. But we've been through so much turmoil and snark that it really doesn't take much for us to get angry again at the drop of a hat. It doesn't justify flooding your feed with furious retweets and .@'s because you read something designed to be offensive on JoeBlogGamesVille.com - all you are doing is perpetuating the cycle and nullifying the *REAL* rage when someone actually important says or does something offensive.
Let's all step back, have a breath, and focus on the things that matter: The games, the people who make them and the upstanding community of great people who contribute to the creative process every day. Feel free to do your jobs to hold people accountable for their views, but maybe make sure those people are actually worth the effort.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Kony 2012
I'm as skeptical as the next guy when it comes to social network based causes. I've never worn a wristband, I've laughed at the 20 second attention span of teenagers and uni students when it comes to the fad based crap that gets passed around Facebook.
But in this case, I'm a believer. Call me nieve if you like, but the staggeringly large amount of child murder, abduction and forced fighting that Kony and his army plagued Uganda and much of Central Africa with is unconscionable. Of all the horrible shit that happens in this world, Child Soldiers are at the very top of my list - there are countless books available that detail the day by day hell that many (now adult) kids faced, forced to kill or maim their parents and families, become sex dolls for other soldiers, to be stripped of a childhood.
It's pretty disgusting to see some people's instant reactions to this video - sure, it was a little precious at times, but to see this guy dedicate a large portion of his life to protecting children and advocating for the cessitation of child warfare was powerful. So much so that I broke my shield for once and started advocating the video, and even considered heading out to spread awareness in April.
Invisible Children are hardly the most well run charity - they're more of a loose coalition of smaller anti-war groups that have rallied together to support one particular cause. Under scrutiny, they aren't the red cross - a large portion of their funds are probably spent offshore and undocumented. Whether you choose to donate is up to you. I'm not defending them or their fundraising efforts.
The video was about putting apathetic eyeballs back on a situation so few people know or care about. It's using those same eyeballs to make noise and dig a warlord out of the jungle. Sure, it won't "Save Africa", but if a few million people calling their government and asking them to do something is what actually comes out of this, what the fuck is the harm in that?
I think people are far too cynical. We won't solve any problems by being smarmy on the internet.
But in this case, I'm a believer. Call me nieve if you like, but the staggeringly large amount of child murder, abduction and forced fighting that Kony and his army plagued Uganda and much of Central Africa with is unconscionable. Of all the horrible shit that happens in this world, Child Soldiers are at the very top of my list - there are countless books available that detail the day by day hell that many (now adult) kids faced, forced to kill or maim their parents and families, become sex dolls for other soldiers, to be stripped of a childhood.
It's pretty disgusting to see some people's instant reactions to this video - sure, it was a little precious at times, but to see this guy dedicate a large portion of his life to protecting children and advocating for the cessitation of child warfare was powerful. So much so that I broke my shield for once and started advocating the video, and even considered heading out to spread awareness in April.
Invisible Children are hardly the most well run charity - they're more of a loose coalition of smaller anti-war groups that have rallied together to support one particular cause. Under scrutiny, they aren't the red cross - a large portion of their funds are probably spent offshore and undocumented. Whether you choose to donate is up to you. I'm not defending them or their fundraising efforts.
The video was about putting apathetic eyeballs back on a situation so few people know or care about. It's using those same eyeballs to make noise and dig a warlord out of the jungle. Sure, it won't "Save Africa", but if a few million people calling their government and asking them to do something is what actually comes out of this, what the fuck is the harm in that?
I think people are far too cynical. We won't solve any problems by being smarmy on the internet.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The truths of community run video game sites.
When I first began writing, I was roughly 15 or 16 years old. I had originally began writing a journal, something my English teacher suggested would bolster my skills, and flirted with short stories, some absolutely dreadful fan-fiction, poetry and novellas. It was around this time that video game journalism had begun to graduate from print to the web, scattered across a number of European and American "networks" - namely UGO and Gamespy. While those sites generally focused on producing paid content from ex-print professionals, many others were more than willing to capitalise on the free labor of, well, anyone.
I started off writing for two sites; the first was a European network called MGON.com, run by a few swedish guys with a taste for the eccentric. I honestly don't remember a lot about my time there, it was about 12-13 years ago now and the site has been defunct for much of that. It was, however, my first experience dealing with an online team, and back in those days, this was something very exotic and exciting. Most of my writing was for one of their Half Life subsites, covering mods, updates and the like. Of course, I wasn't paid a cent, back then noone was, the team is what kept you going.
The relationship lasted about a year or two. Internal relationships between many of the sub-site owners became hostile and unmanageable, and the network slowly began unravelling. About a year after I left, most of the writers had migrated over to Gamespy's network and MGON became just another forgotten example of the tumultuous personal relationships that govern community games sites. Like most, MGON was run almost entirely from the top down, and as a result, many writers and sub-editors were rarely given much autonomy over their content, design and layout.
The team were incredibly talented, intelligent and had a spectacular work ethic. Most of us were teenagers, and had all self taught overselves the skills to create and serve content. Back then, there was no Web 2.0, no wordpress. If you wanted a site, you built it from the ground up, and if you wanted traffic, it spread entirely on word of mouth. It was a simpler time, with Gamespot and IGN still in its baby stages, Gamespy was also new but growing to be the king. Other magazines had slowly become to come online, but the keys were temporarily in the hands of the fans. It was truly a golden age. I'll get to the problems it faced and why it fell over a bit later on.
The second site was called Gamers Pulse, a community run site based out of Texas. Probably one of the most professionally run sites that existed at the time, it was technically part of the UGO network but had almost complete autonomy. I had no issues with management or other staff when I wrote for GP, and my leaving was based on really nothing else but a sense of disillusionment with the investment of time and effort being put into sites I was pretty sure was making money and gaining influence for many people other than myself.
After this I took a break from writing for roughly 6 years. I finished high school, flirted with Uni and sailed through some jobs before landing, ultimately, into IT. My life began to stabilise somewhat so I decided to stop being a reader and start writing again. I was impressed to see a burgeoning Australian media industry growing, particularly around sites like PALGN (then run by Peter James), Ausgamers, Games On Net and Australian Gamer. Emails to all of them went unanswered (funnily enough, two of them are two of my biggest clients now) so I decided to start small and applied to a very tiny but interesting site called Gamer Limit.
Gamer Limit was run by two guys, one was a Tasmanian and the other was a Floridian. I liked both of them straight away - they were friendly, fiercely passionate and intelligent and had thousands of ideas. I took to the site quickly and before long I had graduated to 2IC. It was at this point I found myself sitting inside the echelon of an established community games site, with a significant amount of support and power to make changes and shape the site to something I thought could be amazing.
Alongside the EIC, I quickly decided we needed to change 3 things about the site - the focus, the staff and the layout. All three were dated and ineffective; our traffic was atrocious and the quality of prose was average at best. The current staff were roughly split into great/terrible, and it was obvious we needed to whip things into shape. I put together a stack of policies - ranging from staff performance/expections to what is expected in a particular style of article. We went on a huge hiring spree and chose, what I still consider to this day, to be a team of some of the best writers I've had the privilege of working with - many of whom have gone on to become paid writers at magazines and larger sites.
Once everyone knew their places, we instituted weekly staff meetings over Skype, discussed plans to increase patronage and upgrade the site. Our insanely talented coder ripped the site apart to institute changes to templates, graphics, adding an entire internal blogging system and more. We put together a schedule of regular content and before long we had regular news, reviews, editorials and previews. Our traffic went up 1000%, we started getting offered review copies and press invites left and right. I spent 8 months working on successfully getting the site listed on Metacritic and Game Rankings.
We couldn't believe our success. I started to slowly increase my profile and make a name for myself during my various networking while sprucking the site. We went to E3 two years in a row. We held a successful charity game marathon across two continents with help from Insomniac Games. But by this point I had been working on the site almost 8-10hrs a day, everyday, for about 2 years. I was starting to burnout hardcore, along with the rest of the editorial staff. Then came the monetisation problem.
One of the biggest myths of community game sites is the expectation that you will, one day, make it big and monetize. This will almost *never* happen. Some sites, namely the Gawker blogs and Destructoid, are exceptions to this rule, but almost every other one will never turn a profit, let alone grow a revenue base. One of our biggest issues was getting consistent ad campaigns - we were in a bracket that invited us into more lucrative ads (at our peak we were coming up to around 800,000 unique hits per month) but all of the providers were next to fucking useless.
This situation tore the site apart. As we became more popular, and we expected more from our writers, many of them started to burn out and lose motivation to write consistently and regularly. To keep them going we would reward them the only way we knew how - creating arbitrary positions and promising them press and priority on review copies. This worked for a little while. But you can't fight fate.
The site peaked once we lost the ability to keep ontop of our social networking commitments. It takes at least 2-3hrs a day of pushing traffic to the site to keep growing readership, but we were losing 1 in 4 readers (only one would come back, 3 would read and run, its a pretty common statistic). We couldn't offer exclusives, we couldn't offer video content, and our podcasts were too random and inconsistent. Our sense of community was very small and our forums were always blown away by spammers.
But we just didn't want to give up. We all knew the truth but it didn't matter, we had spent far too much time to get here. We scoured YouTube for up and coming video talent to poach the site. We hired more writers. We eased the restrictions on content. But then we had the split.
During one of the press trips a massive rift opened up between two of the editors. It was almost completely irreparable. Both sides refused to talk, and it eventually became a case of he-said/he-said. Half the staff quit on the spot. It was the death spiral for Gamer Limit. I left, very sadly I might add, a few months after the split. While I try to keep in touch with these guys, most of us have lost our shared connection and barely talk anymore.
The recent very public breakup of PALGN reminded me of how volatile and unstable community run sites are. Most of them are backed by very strong, top heavy leadership followed by a dedicated team. This tenuous relationship is made even more difficult by the fact that noone is being paid, meaning that the only element of motivation is for the games and the team. If the team have no confidence or respect for each other, or is neglected by the leadership, the house of cards will fall like dominos.
Yug, the original founder of Australian Gamer, recently wrote an article on his blog about the DO's and DONTs of running a community based site. All of it's true, sadly.
I started off writing for two sites; the first was a European network called MGON.com, run by a few swedish guys with a taste for the eccentric. I honestly don't remember a lot about my time there, it was about 12-13 years ago now and the site has been defunct for much of that. It was, however, my first experience dealing with an online team, and back in those days, this was something very exotic and exciting. Most of my writing was for one of their Half Life subsites, covering mods, updates and the like. Of course, I wasn't paid a cent, back then noone was, the team is what kept you going.
The relationship lasted about a year or two. Internal relationships between many of the sub-site owners became hostile and unmanageable, and the network slowly began unravelling. About a year after I left, most of the writers had migrated over to Gamespy's network and MGON became just another forgotten example of the tumultuous personal relationships that govern community games sites. Like most, MGON was run almost entirely from the top down, and as a result, many writers and sub-editors were rarely given much autonomy over their content, design and layout.
The team were incredibly talented, intelligent and had a spectacular work ethic. Most of us were teenagers, and had all self taught overselves the skills to create and serve content. Back then, there was no Web 2.0, no wordpress. If you wanted a site, you built it from the ground up, and if you wanted traffic, it spread entirely on word of mouth. It was a simpler time, with Gamespot and IGN still in its baby stages, Gamespy was also new but growing to be the king. Other magazines had slowly become to come online, but the keys were temporarily in the hands of the fans. It was truly a golden age. I'll get to the problems it faced and why it fell over a bit later on.
The second site was called Gamers Pulse, a community run site based out of Texas. Probably one of the most professionally run sites that existed at the time, it was technically part of the UGO network but had almost complete autonomy. I had no issues with management or other staff when I wrote for GP, and my leaving was based on really nothing else but a sense of disillusionment with the investment of time and effort being put into sites I was pretty sure was making money and gaining influence for many people other than myself.
After this I took a break from writing for roughly 6 years. I finished high school, flirted with Uni and sailed through some jobs before landing, ultimately, into IT. My life began to stabilise somewhat so I decided to stop being a reader and start writing again. I was impressed to see a burgeoning Australian media industry growing, particularly around sites like PALGN (then run by Peter James), Ausgamers, Games On Net and Australian Gamer. Emails to all of them went unanswered (funnily enough, two of them are two of my biggest clients now) so I decided to start small and applied to a very tiny but interesting site called Gamer Limit.
Gamer Limit was run by two guys, one was a Tasmanian and the other was a Floridian. I liked both of them straight away - they were friendly, fiercely passionate and intelligent and had thousands of ideas. I took to the site quickly and before long I had graduated to 2IC. It was at this point I found myself sitting inside the echelon of an established community games site, with a significant amount of support and power to make changes and shape the site to something I thought could be amazing.
Alongside the EIC, I quickly decided we needed to change 3 things about the site - the focus, the staff and the layout. All three were dated and ineffective; our traffic was atrocious and the quality of prose was average at best. The current staff were roughly split into great/terrible, and it was obvious we needed to whip things into shape. I put together a stack of policies - ranging from staff performance/expections to what is expected in a particular style of article. We went on a huge hiring spree and chose, what I still consider to this day, to be a team of some of the best writers I've had the privilege of working with - many of whom have gone on to become paid writers at magazines and larger sites.
Once everyone knew their places, we instituted weekly staff meetings over Skype, discussed plans to increase patronage and upgrade the site. Our insanely talented coder ripped the site apart to institute changes to templates, graphics, adding an entire internal blogging system and more. We put together a schedule of regular content and before long we had regular news, reviews, editorials and previews. Our traffic went up 1000%, we started getting offered review copies and press invites left and right. I spent 8 months working on successfully getting the site listed on Metacritic and Game Rankings.
We couldn't believe our success. I started to slowly increase my profile and make a name for myself during my various networking while sprucking the site. We went to E3 two years in a row. We held a successful charity game marathon across two continents with help from Insomniac Games. But by this point I had been working on the site almost 8-10hrs a day, everyday, for about 2 years. I was starting to burnout hardcore, along with the rest of the editorial staff. Then came the monetisation problem.
One of the biggest myths of community game sites is the expectation that you will, one day, make it big and monetize. This will almost *never* happen. Some sites, namely the Gawker blogs and Destructoid, are exceptions to this rule, but almost every other one will never turn a profit, let alone grow a revenue base. One of our biggest issues was getting consistent ad campaigns - we were in a bracket that invited us into more lucrative ads (at our peak we were coming up to around 800,000 unique hits per month) but all of the providers were next to fucking useless.
This situation tore the site apart. As we became more popular, and we expected more from our writers, many of them started to burn out and lose motivation to write consistently and regularly. To keep them going we would reward them the only way we knew how - creating arbitrary positions and promising them press and priority on review copies. This worked for a little while. But you can't fight fate.
The site peaked once we lost the ability to keep ontop of our social networking commitments. It takes at least 2-3hrs a day of pushing traffic to the site to keep growing readership, but we were losing 1 in 4 readers (only one would come back, 3 would read and run, its a pretty common statistic). We couldn't offer exclusives, we couldn't offer video content, and our podcasts were too random and inconsistent. Our sense of community was very small and our forums were always blown away by spammers.
But we just didn't want to give up. We all knew the truth but it didn't matter, we had spent far too much time to get here. We scoured YouTube for up and coming video talent to poach the site. We hired more writers. We eased the restrictions on content. But then we had the split.
During one of the press trips a massive rift opened up between two of the editors. It was almost completely irreparable. Both sides refused to talk, and it eventually became a case of he-said/he-said. Half the staff quit on the spot. It was the death spiral for Gamer Limit. I left, very sadly I might add, a few months after the split. While I try to keep in touch with these guys, most of us have lost our shared connection and barely talk anymore.
The recent very public breakup of PALGN reminded me of how volatile and unstable community run sites are. Most of them are backed by very strong, top heavy leadership followed by a dedicated team. This tenuous relationship is made even more difficult by the fact that noone is being paid, meaning that the only element of motivation is for the games and the team. If the team have no confidence or respect for each other, or is neglected by the leadership, the house of cards will fall like dominos.
Yug, the original founder of Australian Gamer, recently wrote an article on his blog about the DO's and DONTs of running a community based site. All of it's true, sadly.
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