My Undiagnosed Chronic Illness Taught Me to Love Sci-Fi - Electric Literature
The genre taps into our culture’s deepest anxieties about the trustworthiness of women
Watching these films and shows between visits to doctors bent on dismissing me, I grasped sci-fi’s genius: It taps into our culture’s deepest anxieties about the trustworthiness of women. In our real-world political climate, when a woman speaks her experience, whether she’s talking about sexual abuse, harassment, or illness, we wonder, Where’s the proof? And yet, our standards of proof are devised by the same systems—legal, educational, medical—built by men to protect male interests. In the medical system, imaging and other tests count as “proof” of illness or pain, but such tests screen only for well-researched diseases, and what we know about those diseases largely comes from research on male subjects. No definitive tests exist for a host of conditions that predominately affect those assigned female at birth, like myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. A woman with this kind of disease might as well be telling her doctors: Cyborgs are coming. Aliens have made contact.
Amazing article which makes connections between women characters in science fiction being disbelieved and the experience of many women who experience chronic illness and pain and seek a diagnosis.
PORTLAND, Ore. — The crowd decked out in red and black sways between elation and disappointment as the seconds tick away. Voices rise when the hometown Portland Thorns take possession of the ball, and heavy sighs spread through the crowd of close to 19,000 when they turn it over. The Thorns have mostly dominated the match versus the visiting Orlando Pride, and yet a draw looms in the first National Women’s Soccer League game broadcast under a new agreement with ESPN. The afternoon sun that had soaked much of the stadium has given way to shade, but the sweat and sunburns are nothing compared to the stomach knots of an unexpected tie.
Dox here. Now that I've thrown down my cards hard enough to them in the table like shuriken, let me back up and add some context.
I love JRPGs (even if I hate that we've somehow decided that we're going to label them by their place of origin). I've played a lot of them, thought a lot about how they're designed. What separates a good JRPG (Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga, Final Fantasy 6, Wild ARMS 3, Chrono Trigger, The Amber Throne) from a bad one (Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey, Final Fantasy 8, Wild ARMS 4, Breath of Fire 1-3 (I haven't played 4 or later so I will reserve judgment there), Artifact Adventure, come at me scrublords I'm ripped) is really important to consider, but can be difficult to pin down. I could shout my opinions about all of these games at you for several pages, but today I want to focus in on Earthbound.
Is this game good? Eh... It's not BAD, but I can't quite bring myself to call it good. I think it earns its place as required playing for any JRPG connoisseur, but mostly because it's different and influential. Don't let what I'm about to write dissuade you from playing it if you're curious; I can't guarantee it'll be *enjoyable per say, but playing Earthbound is certainly a *worthwhile experience for anyone studying JRPG design.
But when you do play it, brace yourself. Earthbound is one of the most intentionally annoying games I've ever managed to actually finish.
I re-played Earthbound in its entirety to prepare for this article and it confirmed how determined the game is to intentionally aggravate the player. So many things happen to you that require you to completely eject from a quest and run back to town or face crippling penalties. The game offers a lot of unique mechanics and ideas, then hamstrings your ability to actually use them. The game is full of tiny dick moves that build up over time. Effects that you need to be reliable are random. Items that take up a PRECIOUS inventory space and supposedly perform an important function just fail to work entirely. And oh god, the inventory micromanaging in this game can go fuck right off.
Let's take these one at a time, and let's start with homesickness. Ness (main character, statistically stronger than the other three party members in almost every way) will occasionally get homesick. And that makes sense, he's a 10 year old kid. It's cute and helps build character on a silent protagonist that we really don't know much about. It's also annoying for three reasons.
1) It pops up randomly, there is no warning when it's about to happen, and you can't prevent it in any way.
2) It utterly cripples Ness (reminder: your most important character in combat by far, your only healer through about 50% of the game), causing him to skip turns randomly. I've seen him skip four turns in a row this way.
3) You have to return to town to find a phone and call his mother to fix this.
So you get through the dungeon, fighting off groups of enemies that you can't outrun and often can't escape from once you're in the battle. The boss of the dungeon is in the next room, and you've got one more trash monster encounter to get through before you start the real fight. First turn of that fight, you see, “Ness started missing home.” You now have to decide between your primary actor in combat being at ~50% combat effectiveness for the boss or turning around, trudging back through the dungeon again to find a phone, and then coming back. HUGE waste of time. In the playthrough I finished to prep for this article, that happened three times. That tacked on a solid 30, 45 minutes of play time on that playthrough. Fuck homesickness.
I'll also give an honorable mention to Mushroomized, which is another status effect that cripples the victim and can't be healed in dungeons. With Mushroom it's obvious what enemies cause it at least, and you can actually prevent the ailment by killing them quickly.
Next let's talk about the unique combat mechanics with potential that are intentionally hamstrung. First, there is the ability to end fights against completely outmatched enemies before they begin. This is a great idea, I've never heard anything but praise for it, and it's often pointed out as something more games should do. I completely agree with that praise, but I really wish Earthbound itself actually let the mechanic matter. Based on what I've seen analyzing this mechanic, it only occurs when there is a 100% chance of your party killing enemies with normal attacks before the monsters can react.
The problem here is the Speed stat. Ness and Jeff have the highest Offense stats, meaning they do the most damage with their standard attacks. They also have the lowest Speed stats, meaning they will usually go last in fights. Because of this, weaksauce enemies who won't get anything done but a weak attack that deals 1 damage STILL don't get auto-killed because they go before your two heavy hitters. The fight was completely pointless, those enemies were never going to do anything significant to your party, but because Ness and Jeff are so goddamned slow you'll have to play out the fight anyway. Welcome to “just mash A,” the worst place for JRPG combat. It's only relevant when you get the drop on enemies.
Hey, there's another mechanic that sounds cool on paper that completely fails in Earthbound's implementation. Enemies are actual sprites in the game instead of invisible random encounters, and if you approach them from behind you get a free turn when the fighting starts. In theory this means you're paying attention to enemies and trying to approach them so you get that advantage, perhaps with stealth or with complex maneuvers. In practice, this is utterly impossible if the enemies aren't programmed to run away from you. Stealth is impossible, and enemies are almost always faster than you rendering tricky movement pointless, more likely to cause the enemies to get the surprise round instead. You can cause many enemies to flee from you by killing a boss monster in the area, but other than that the usual situation is that enemies within a certain distance will always catch up to you and fight you normally.
This is made all the more frustrating when the game shows how this mechanic could be very cool about a third of the way through and then completely forgets about it. There is a dungeon (the gold mine, for those keeping track) with encounters that mix very weak enemies who run from you (the Mad Geese) and “meh” enemies (the Noose Men) who charge at you. If you can get to the fleeing weak ones before the mediocre charging ones, you get the surprise round. This configuration is never repeated. Replace the charging enemy with something that's a real threat to your crew and you've got an EXCELLENT gameplay scenario that occurs outside of battles. There are ways to vary this up. Enemies who spin predictably (or randomly!) mixed with chargers. Enemies who give extra loot/XP charging through areas where precise movement is required to catch up with them. Slow enemies that your party can't reasonably fight to run from. The ideas are there, and the game makes no effort to utilize them.
...Maybe that's something that won't annoy the average player, but obvious potential never utilized really bothers me.
What IS going to annoy the average player is the fucking inventory though. Items don't stack and take up a slot in a PAINFULLY tiny inventory. Essential plot items and equipment eat up this room as well. If there were a few basic item types it wouldn't be a big deal, but the game throws TONS of random and varied shit at you. Dozens of different sorts of food, optional condements that are used automatically when you eat said food for boosted healing, battle utility items that deal damage or inflict status ailments (and, excluding Jeff's bottle rockets, all end up being less effective than standard attacks or low level spells), out of combat utility items, literal junk that doesn't do anything. I don't understand why a game with such a painfully small inventory and the clunkiest backpack management interface possible has so much STUFF in it.
I do see a reason for this kind of mechanic to exist: it limits which items a given character can use in combat. Deciding which character carries the items that revive killed characters, who carries items which remove status aliments, how many slots do you set aside for Jeff's bottle rockets, these are worthwhile and interesting choices that I think has tremendous potential for interesting gameplay. But so many item slots are used up for plot critical and/or equipment items, so much of the stuff you get exploring is junk, and even when it isn't junk it's hard to determine which item to use at a given time. (Pop quiz! Which item heals more: a lesser potion, standard potion, or hyper potion? How about a kabob, hamburger, or jerky?) Managing my inventory never felt enjoyable in Earthbound, and it resulted in me leaving a lot of loot boxes unopened.
...To bring this extended session of a grumpy old man yelling at clouds to a close: Some level of annoyance is acceptable in a game. The first episode of WWLF featured us uniformly praising Darkest Dungeon in spite of the high time cost of losing an adventurer. I still love Dustforce in spite of its demands for absolute perfection. I'll truck on in Sunless Sea even though failing a 95% favorable odds challenge sometimes causes me a tremendous amount of grief. What do those games do that Earthbound does not? There are several answers.
Good games give ways of mitigating punishments. There is nothing you can do in Earthbound to prevent homesickness.
Good games provide mechanics that make you feel powerful or clever to assuage any lingering bitterness from other portions where the game hurt you. Earthbound pretends to give you ways to be tricky and then doesn't give you a chance to actually utilize them.
Good games make the annoying parts part of a buildup to a moment of greatness, never a moment of busy work. Inventory management in Earthbound was never anything more than a chore.
In the end, Earthbound is not a good game. And it's okay to admit that. It's still a game you should play, and a game someone less irritable than I can enjoy tremendously. Even if you can't enjoy it, one can still learn a lot from a not-good game.
Hey folks, this is Dox speaking. In future we're going to try to be clearer about which cast member is writing a given post; Bell and KQ have very different tastes than I do and I think it pays to be clear about this sort of thing.
So today we're going to do a long form article. Earlier, Bell reblogged this quote from @femhype.
"Animal Crossing, The Sims, and Minecraft are all worldwide sensations made by what one would now consider to be AAA companies, and yet, since not one of these games has violence as a core mechanic, each and every one of them has been criticized as not being ‘game-y’ enough.
The fact that the same criticism is levied at so-called ‘casual games’ and ‘casual gamers’ reveals a link between the two: games that don’t include violence as a core mechanic are perceived by the community as being fundamentally more feminine than games that do. Games with women-majority audiences, women-majority casts, and women-majority dev teams are frequently lumped in with this kind of critique.
Violence, goes the logic, is what makes a game masculine — and, by extension — being masculine is what makes a video game a video game."
I disagree with this statement on several levels. In this article, I'm going to focus on my opinions about the definition of “casual game.” The goal here is to start a conversation. Sound interesting? Read on.
First, a nit-picky thing here. Is Minecraft often considered a casual game? I've never heard anyone who's actually played the game call it casual. Minecraft is deep and wide as an ocean. It's one of the least casual games I can think of. Don't let the fact that it's popular with kids make you think it's a simple thing. Any time someone calls Minecraft a casual game, ask them if they've ever played it.
Anyway, what I'm going to focus on here is the definition of the term “casual game”. As I interpret the above quote, the primary assertions are:
1. Casual is synonymous with non-violent
2. Violent is a subset of masculine
3. Masculine is synonymous with hardcore (non-casual)
I have a -lot- of problems with step two in this logic chain, but they’re beside the point of this article. For now, I'll stick to giving counterpoints to each step. Note that me mentioning a game in this article is not necessarily an endorsement of said game. I’ll try to stick to games that I generally like or at least respect, but I personally don't have a lot of love for casual games so some of the stuff mentioned here isn't really my jam.
So, first we posit that casual is synonymous with non-violent. This one I had to go looking to find counterpoints, but they do exist. To find counter examples here one merely needs to hit search the casual tag on Steam. After a few minutes of browsing, I've found Star Vikings and Zombie Defense. With a quick look in my Kongregate history, I come up with Knightmare Tower and Burrito Bison Revenge. Someone more interested in casual games than I could probably name more and better games. The point here is that these are very much games about violence, but also reasonably casual games.
Let's talk about the contrapositive a bit. If a casual game is non-violent, then does that mean a non-casual game IS violent?
I've already mentioned Minecraft; the core of the game is gathering materials and building structures with said materials. I do not think Minecraft should be considered a casual game though; people sink a lot of time and effort into this game. That said, it doesn't really work for the counter example because it DOES include violence; zombies and creepers and endermen (oh my). Let's look elsewhere.
Dear readers, you need to all go buy and play Dustforce on Steam. This is hands down my favorite platformer of all time and it is criminally under rated. It’s also totally non-violent and hardcore as hell. You play as a janitor who is also a ninja. Your job is to go to levels (TOP TIER level design here) and just clean up while one of the best OSTs ever recorded plays. (I am actually listening to that OST right now as I write this; it's great for getting work done.) There are attacks, sure, but they all exist to help you clean up grouchy people who've been covered in dust or leaves, or tame sapient piles of junk or goop. There is no real violence on display here. Now, go watch this perfect run of one of the levels and tell me this game looks casual. This is one of the most grueling tests of reflexes, reactions, and judgement out there.
Next, let's talk about point two, violent games are masculine. We'll start debunking this with an friendly mass murderer called Kirby.
Look at this adorable sonofabitch. Pink, cuddly, with a high pitched voice. I love this guy. And if his name wasn't Kirby I'd assume he's meant to be a girl. This is not the hero of a masculine game. He's also not in a masculine world, with flowers and rainbows and little five point stars all over the place.
If you actually look at the contents of his games, you'll see that he also has as much blood on his nubby hands as the DOOM marine.
Joking aside, most Kirby games are examples of non-masculine games with a focus on violence. It's cutesy violence where it's implied that no one's actually dying, but still violent. And I think calling his games “masculine” would be ridiculous.
But Kirby is still a nominally male character. I don't think it actually matters in game, but we still give him masculine pronouns so I'll cede that point. That alone isn't enough to make a game masculine, but even so, we've got another example. Let's talk about Shantae instead.
These games are -excellent- and I absolutely recommend anyone who hasn't tried them go pick up Shantae: Risky's Revenge on Steam after reading this article. In Shantae games you spend most of the time traversing areas and beating up bad guys. The primary engagement is exploration, but along the way you knock out mooks and bosses who're trying to block your way. Shantae fights by using her hair like a whip and utilizing magic dances. This game both lionizes and satirizes aspects of traditional femininity. For example, you can buy shampoo to upgrade your basic hair whip's damage. You can call it a lot of things, but you're never going to catch a reasonable person calling this game masculine. And yet, you're going to kill a couple of hundred enemies in an average play through.
I could go on, but I think this is enough. The notion that being violence makes a game masculine is debunked by the actual evidence. I'll grant you that many--probably even MOST--violent games have a masculine tone, but that happens for reasons other than the violence on hand. As stated earlier, this point in particular irks me a lot in what it implies about masculinity and femininity, but I want to keep the focus on video games here.
Finally, we've got point 3: masculine games are hardcore. Let's start with a list of non-masculine, non-casual games. This comes from a brief scan over my Steam library and a bit of thinking about games from my past.
The Amber Throne. Ultimately, this game is about a conflict between a pair of women. Its battles will also kick your ass if you don't figure out how combat works.
Contrast. A game about a woman and her relationship to a little girl who is dealing with a difficult family life. Also, difficult platforming and puzzle solving. The casual crowd will not last long here.
Sim-X. I think there's a case for calling The Sims specifically a pretty feminine game series, but Sim City and other games in that line are quite gender neutral and are deep management rabbit holes if you want them to be.
Earthbound. Yeah, three in four of your party members are boys, but by and large this game does not give a shit about gender or sexuality. It's the story of some kids going on an adventure together. And by JRPG standards, I'd say this one is actually more hardcore than most.
Undertale (http://store.steampowered.com/app/391540/). This game specifically set out to be inclusive of all genders and sexualities, and the game's content makes this unambiguous. Overall it's quite gender neutral. Now go fight Sans and tell me this counts as a casual game.
As already stated, anything in the Shantae series.
Now let's change gear a bit. Same general idea, but let's talk about masculine games that are also casual.
Reigns. Long live the ki--oops, he’s dead already. You're restricted to binary choices by the game's design, and the results often seem random. Super casual, but in the end this is a game about men doing manly things.
10,000,000. You're trying to escape a dungeon by killing all the monsters in your way and evading traps Indiana Jones style. You do this with a simple match 3 combat system. That's right, match 3, the most casual of casual games.
Soul Gambler. In this short adventure you make deals with demons, wager your soul on games of chance, and seduce sexy ladies. A manly pulp adventure, yeah! It's... also a visual novel. Match 3 might be the most casual, but visual novels are right behind it.
So, I think we've got enough evidence to debunk the “casual” definition originally posited. So that begs the question: if casual games aren't defined by being non-violent and non-masculine, what DOES define them? My answer: depth or difficulty. You only need one. A lack of both means that your game is casual. (As an aside, that's not inherently a bad thing! There are plenty of worthwhile casual games out there.)
Let's look at depth, first by examining visual novels. These games may have great writing, with richly detailed three dimensional characters in fascinating situations. Compelling stuff. But at the end of the day they have few (if any) actual game mechanics. If you step out of the game itself, all you're doing is exploring a tree of possible outcomes pre-determined by the game's writers. There's not a lot of depth there.
Let's take a more concrete example: Reigns vs. Crusader Kings II. These are both games where you control a monarch attempting to lead his kingdom to prosperity (or just not die violently). Where they differ is in how you make your choices. In Reigns, you generally only get to answer yes or no to your advisers, and you are always on the defensive, reacting to things happening to you with almost no way of pre-empting them. In CK2, you have a DIZZYING number of options available to you, and a skilled player who knows how to manipulate the systems can impose his or her will on the world. For example, one enterprising player made a horse the emperor of Rome.
Casual games lack depth; choices are simple and your path through the game is linear and predetermined. One way a game can set itself up as hardcore is by presenting players with a complex system that offers many choices for styles of play.
Next, difficulty. This is rather subjective of course; different gamers have different skill sets. Still, there's a nebulous bar of challenge; if a game is above this line it is too hard to be called casual. This is something we can go back and forth on. I'd say all Kirby games that I've played have enough challenging levels and hidden secrets to be above that bar, but there are reasonable people who would point to Kirby's Epic Yarn as a casual game because there is no way to die and reaching the end is trivial. I personally would counter that reaching the end with enough beads for a gold medal is REALLY hard in later levels, but we can debate that.
That said, there are certain games that everyone can agree are above that line. No one is going to look at the final level of Dustforce and tell you that game is casual. Even on the easiest difficulty setting, DOOM (both the classic version and the remake) will gleefully kill a complacent player. If you mismanage your funds in Sim City, you will end up in an unsalvageable mess. These games are too hard to approach casually; whatever skill the game demands will be tested, and those found lacking will be unable to complete the game.
So those are the two factors. To be casual, you need to lack both depth and difficulty. One or the other is sufficient; Doom doesn't have a lot going on for depth: point at the stuff you don't like and make them dead, the occasional map puzzle, and you're done. But it's hard enough to bring it out of the casual space. In a game like Stardew Valley you generally aren't in any danger. Even in situations where you are the result of failure usually isn't that disastrous. The game isn't difficult at all. But there are so many things to do that I'd say the “casual” label doesn't stick to it.
So, that's my opinion on the matter. As I said at the top though, my goal here is to start a conversation. The best way to do that is to ask some questions, so let's try that.
Do you think Minecraft counts as casual? Sorry if I'm harping on this, but seriously I don't understand how anyone who's played it for more than five minutes can say that.
When you think of a casual game, what comes to mind?
I'm not much of a casual gamer myself. Let's say I was interested in trying some casual games out though. What would you recommend?
Are there any examples I used above you disagree with? If so, why?
The red-nosed pros at the 2014 World Clown Association annual convention know you think they're creepy. How does a maligned and misunderstood centuries-old art form survive bad PR and cultural ...
"algorithms are also a reminder that visualization is more than a tool for finding patterns in data. Visualization leverages the human visual system to augment human intellect: we can use it to better understand these important abstract processes, and perhaps other things, too."
"If the phone rang and you were in another room, you had to come running: in that immediate sense, and in a way that now seems comical, your phone controlled you. And before the ‘90s, there was no caller ID, an inconvenience which ensured, for that benighted first century-plus of the instrument’s analog existence, the first premise of phone horror—that you could never know for certain whose voice, or what sound, would issue from the other end of that raised receiver."
Representations of the telephone as instrument of fear, conduit of spirits, and messenger of madness.
