#teganhanlon

[techno-identity]

That's so kitsch

Merriam-Webster defines kitsch as, "something that appeals to popular or lowbrow taste and is often of poor quality." Bogost defines kitsch as "an art urging over sentimentality, focused on the overt application of conventions, without the particular originality..." (83). I don't know if it's just me (note: I have never heard the word "kitsch" before How To Do Things With Videogames) but both of these definitions sound a wee bit negative. And it pains me to see that Diner Dash falls under the category of "kitsch." Diner Dash is not so kitsch. Diner Dash is quality game, dammit. OK — maybe it's not quality in the sense of high-quality graphics and mind blowing actions. But if Diner Dash is a kitsh game, why isn't World of Warcraft. Both of them focus on hard work — hard work that yields success. As I type and think simultaneously, I admit I'm finding flaws in my argument. Diner Dash and WoW are not one in the same — and yes, I understand that Diner Dash is pretty one dimensional — wait on customers, put in order, pick up food, deliver food, clean table, pick up tips. I guess it does fall under the "click-management" games. Kind of like Farmville, which I also had a short-lived, but passionate romance with. Maybe kitsch is my niche. I don't know if I like that.

[techno-identity]

Short-shorts

While not everyone looks good in short shorts, David Shields advocates that short-shorts are always good. Well — at least for him. In the "m" section of Reality Hunger  Shields declares without shame that he's impatient. As a reader, as a writer — he's just impatient. He said, "I'm bored by plot. I'm bored when it's all written out, when there isn't any shorthand" (128). Instead of long-winded narratives, he upholds the story that uses omission as a form of creation. Which is all pretty dead on, because let's be real — Sheilds writing is pretty bare bones. Bare bones in the sense that explanation is minimal. The more than 600 sections of text break the novel up so much, that it reads almost like a thought process. Or even kind of like different web page excerpts that grace your computer after a Google search. Either way, Shields short attention span as a writer certainly shows. And, I really don't hate it. I like the short sections and the sometimes one-sentence sections like, "The line of beauty is the line of perfect economy" on page 129. It allows the reader to draw his or her own conclusions. Or for me and the previously mentioned line, a mini-wave of confusion. But I mean hey, there's 200 other sections to understand.

[techno-identity]

Goodbye to you, Nagett

My emotions are split on saying goodbye to Nagett, and saying goodbye to my extended computer use for a little while. I must say, that I never thought I would even make it to level 25 on World of Warcraft — and in retrospect and kind of embarrassed about how closes minded I was when first hearing about the game. I remember reading the syllabus the first or second day of class and think there was not a shot in hell that I would make it to the end of the weeks of WoW. I a) doubted my gaming ability b) didn't think I would ever get into it. The crazy part is — when I was play I was SO into. So into in the sense that I often forgot about the world outside of WoW as I cheered Nagett on and cursed at my enemies at work and in my apartment, causing all in the vicinity to question my sanity. Last night I was trying to procrastinate writing a paper, and went to click on WoW. I had to reprimand myself and immediately exit — I missed having an assignment that was fun. At the same time, it is a relief to not have to stay up into the wee hours of the morning Sunday/Monday to get to the right levels for class, and make sure I'm at the right level. WoW, while being fun, might have been my most stressful assignment over the past couple of weeks. Because, unlike a paper that you can just throw together — as hard as Nagett and I tried, sometimes we just couldn't get out of the damn death loop. Sorry Nagett, but this is goodbye.

[techno-identity]

Actually them names are boring, I don't want them names

In "Playing with Names: Gaming and Naming in World of Warcraft," Charlotte Hagstrom ruminates on why players choose the names they do in WOW, and if names influence the experience of the game. 

WOW requires all characters to have a name in order to enter Azeroth. No name, no World of Warcraft for you. But, that presents an issue: You're about to enter an unknown world and you need to create a virtual identity — what's acceptable? How can you fit in? 

In Orc Rogue's case, he's trying to find out what name will make him the most friends. 

"I am going to make the greatest name in the history of makin' names in the history of World of Warcraft," he says in the machinima, "Picking Your WoW Name" by WowCrendor. (Check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7gVysecIUE).

He debates trying to make a rogue name, but they didn't seem creative enough. Then, he considers making a hard to pronounce name, "but then I can't even pronounce that name, and then how will people invite me to their friend's list?!"

The Orc Rogue moves to a forum to get some suggestions — he shoots down a Tauren name, Bubblez, to which he replies "I ain't a girl." 

The solution: "Screw it, I'm just gonna hit random a bunch of time and add or remove a letter." 

I picked this machinima because making Nagett (who ended up just being the mirror image of Tegan + a "t" because some other curious soul wanted "Naget") was a huge process. I had no idea what to name her, hell — I didn't even know if I wanted her to be a "her." I threw around some boring names, all of which were taken, and all of which escape me know — so obviously, Nagett-if-she-wasn't-Nagett would not have been all that memorable. I didn't know what WOW characters were normally named — so for all I knew people were just a series of numbers or maybe just a letter... I was on my own. 

Hagstrom says that when one enters the WOW universe they need to get used to "totally unfamiliar names." These naming patterns hardly resemble those that we're used to. And, Hagstrom notes that fear of being "unaccepted" because of your player's name is not totally irrational. "...There is a normative system in place; just as in real life, names can be, and are, questioned, banned, ridiculed, prized, mocked, and admired by fellow players" (266). 

After analyzing the names of characters in Azeroth, Hagstrom concluded that when it comes to a player's imagination in naming characters — neither race nor level matter. Additionally, she noticed no significant difference between the names on role-playing servers and other servers. She said that few people she talked to used the name generator because, "for them, creating names is an essential part of the game and something they want to do themselves" (270). 

So, our friend Orc Rogue, defied the norm. But, he did go through the struggle and did seem to have a growing anxiety about having an acceptable name for about two minutes of YouTube time. 

[techno-identity]

World of Warcraft and me

Up until Monday I thought I was a WOW queen. I was slowly cruising (oxymoron?) through levels, Nagett and I were on fairly good terms — we had two spells under our belts, and were pleased with our simple life style. Up until Monday I was confident, comfortable, cool, collected (add additional c-adjectives). But, then Monday hit, and I realized I had... no idea... what I was doing. A shaman? Sure. I don't know. I knew I had to be a healer — I clicked buttons when I started out this World of Warcraft journey until my character looked like a Wow-ish diva (kind of, relatively). It all happened so fast, and superficially, and bam Naggett was born without much thought. Up until Monday, I've really played the game without much thought (I'll change I promise). All I really wanted to do was manipulate Naggett so we could get shit done and level up. She's my tool that will be destroyed in one month, after she fulfills her class role. (Sorry Nagett). Anyway, Monday's dungeon taught me that I need to get my act together. Naggett fearlessly attacked her red-marked enemies, just to be killed. So fast. Repeatedly. Killed. It really hurt her (our) self-esteem. (Apparently it's not right/unhelpful to have your toolbar filled with bread and muffins). When I played after Monday (aka approximately 30 minutes ago) I found myself and Naggett more of a one than a two. I actually read the dialogue between me and my quest givers, and hey, saw the trainer! Things are looking up! 

[techno-identity]

How I feel when Nagett dies...

The first time Nagett died, I panicked. I knew as a priest I was healing people left and right (Ok, not really) but, I thought they were just… I don’t know dead projections, dead set ups for me to practice on. Anyway, when I died I thought: Well, damn I’m going to fail this class. I didn’t make it to level 2, and now Nagett is dead forever. But, she wasn’t dead forever, ghost Nagett could go find her body. And we did. And she came back. 

My Internet ignorance appears to blanket over all technologies. Analyzing video games has never popped into my head as something I desired to do. But, after reading Lisbeth Klastrup’s “What Makes World of Warcraft a World? A Note on Death and Dying” I started thinking more about the concept of death in a game, and what role it serves. Klastrup writes about how game developers use death as a punishment, as a way to make gamers respect the world that they live in. This all makes complete sense. “Since all characters inevitably run out of health points at some point during their life cycle, “death,” therefore, not least to new players, serves as punishment for not watching out for one’s character or for playing imprudently” (145). If there wasn’t that threat of dying in World of Warcraft, I would be totally reckless. I mean, I still don’t really know what I’m doing so I’m about a 75 percent on the reckless scale, but I do know I don’t want to die.

But, why is WOW dying so bad? Klastrup writes how game developers need to make death the perfect balance — to keep the world challenging, but keep it fun. In WOW, you can immediately come back to life when your at a not-so-high level, or you can go find your corpse. I didn’t know the former, so I’ve always corpse hunted — which is time consuming. You can’t level up when your dead forever trying to locate yourself. It’s no good. But, at the same time, it’s just “annoying” not devastating. So, the games still fun. Death is something to be avoided. But, when it happens you just need to spend about three minutes of hunt time. 

Overall, the construct of WOW death has my vote as effective. 

[techno-identity]

To be or not to be a girl

So — until class today I never thought about whether or not I would choose to be a girl character in the Alliance race. I mean I’m a girl in real life, why wouldn’t I be a girl… in this case in Azeroth? In fact, when Victoria  gave us a quick World of Warcraft 101, I tried to figure out the step-by-step to making a character and, I just, assumed I would click the female button. But, why? I mean, come on I could be a big burly man, with muscles and a beard and other burly man things.

Hilde G. Corneliussen wrote about feminism in World of Warcraft, and the “his-story” of Azeroth. I feel totally blindsided when reading things about video games, and sexualized female characters, and the history of a game. It’s not that I don’t buy it. It’s not that I have any negative feelings towards it, I just — I just don’t get it. I mean… it’s a game. I guess it makes sense that it has a history, since so many “people components” go into it every day — making decisions, earning gold, etc. But, who wrote it down? Or am I just not understanding the concept of history at all in this case?

Corneliussen writes, “Despite these stories of strong women, most of Azeroth’s history is a story of war and conflict played out by men, which leaves most to the population of Azeroth, including most of the female characters, invisible” (70). It’s statements like this that I just don’t understand — why can’t a female character fight with the best of them? Dammit, why can’t I be a woman priest and heal with the best of them? She goes on to say that female characters “need to be females” to enter in relationships with males or evil forces and “drive the story forward.” So do female characters not have a chance from the get-go — is it in the game programming?

Maybe I’ll understand once the game gets underway.

[techno-identity]

Sound Meant to Stay Unbound

Well, here are the chapters I chose to read: 24 — “Stop. Hey. What’s that Sound,” 27 — “Spin the Painting: An Interview with Nadine Robinson,” 29 — “Fear of a Muslim Planet: Hip-Hops Hidden History,” 30 — “Three Pieces,” 32 — “What One Must Do: Comments and Asides on Musical Philosophy,” 33 — “An Interview with Pierre Boulez,” 34 — “Adh’an: The Sounds of an Islamized Orthodoxy,” 35 — “Theater of the Spirits: Joseph Cornell and Silence,” and finally, 36 — “Where did the Music Go.”

Aside from general piqued interest after reading the titles, I didn’t have much methodology behind which chapters I chose to single out this week. I decided to read Lanier’s piece, because of name recognition. His essay echoed his argument from You Are Not a Gadget that our music today simply mimics the music of the past. He writes, “I’m not complaining about how crummy the new pop music is. If only! I’m complaining that there is no pop music to complain about” (385). He goes on to ask where the new musical styles are that respond to AIDS and terrorism.

Two other pieces that I chose to read based on things other than alluring titles were chapters 32 and chapter 30. Both of these essays had interesting forms. Chuck D’s “Three Pieces” vary in form — the first and third read like poems or raps, while the second — I can’t put my finger on what “form” that is — perhaps a blog? Perhaps a series of rap lyrics crammed into paragraphs — with caps locked words for emphasis? Daniel Bernard Roumain writes chapter 32 as a series of entries under different topics ranging from “iPod” to “Lenon” to “Great Harmony.” Chuck D compares hip-hop to rap and says that hip-hop has proved victorious.

Both Chuck D and Roumain weave comments on race and its relations to sound throughout their essays. Roumain writes, “I believe hip-hop’s music beginnings were founded in the idea of delivering the words of brothers and sisters to brothers and sisters, in the hopes of creating a more informed, tolerant, and moral society” (359). Chuck D is much more explicit about his problems with what he calls, “Amerikkka.” He says, “I have a problem with Amerikkka walking out and damn near shitting on the WORLD RACISM CONFERENCE in SOUTH AFRICA” (340). Comments about race carry over to other pieces like the interview with Nadine Robinson where she makes a silent boom painting to represent voicelessness in America — mainly among African Americans.

Overall, Sound Unbound has provoked thoughts of sound as an evolving and mobilized art form — an art form that lacks a cannon and maybe, that’s because it’s not meant to be studied — not meant to be controlled, analyzed.