What makes a Civilization game?
Turn based gameplay?
A focus on multiple ways of victory?
The host of human history that accompanies it?
The easy flow of information?
Or the never ending stream of end turns that push on and on, leaving your hand crooked over the enter button waiting for something new to break up the relentless march of progress, time, and inevitability. That new thing being the year 2050 and a score based victory.
That's the final victory, the last gasp of the game. The nod to human expansion and general awesomeness.
Do you feel the thrill of discovery? Comprehend the nature of the wheel, writing and varying bits of technology, the expansion of thought from the Enlightenment, and the terrible civil struggle of individual citizen against king.
Not to mention the whole issue of slavery that they got rid of to be PC. Now.. Now the series doesn't mean anything in the scope of human expansion and discovery. The search for gold or research an inevitability brought on by a series of end turns that leaves you twiddling your thumbs for most of the game. Even if everything weren't automated (or had the ability to not be), there would still be little to micromanage.
Is there any anguish over the discovery of the new world? A rush of excitement when flight, or long sea voyagers are available? Is there a sense of wonder and joy with each wonder, each momentous structure that booms out a civilisations might?
Nope, nope, nope.
It is the most casual of games tied up into one of the most complex franchises, and the entire game suffers from it.
Sure from the perspective of a primary, or high school student some information may be useful for focusing your attention on different civilisations (the help screen offers a brief history of each civilisation, unit and school of thought), yet that is hidden far away from the main stage of the game, and has no real bearing on your understanding of game. History and gameplay are kept very separate.
Which makes sense if there's something this big to complete, the scope of complexity needed to make sure that each civilisation's discovery was a personal victory would mean tightening down on all gameplay functions to show that there was a distinct (not generic) link between the discovery of the wheel and the Mesopotamian empire.
Yet instead there's a very distinct divide in gameplay - where each nation has a few bonuses granted to them from the beginning, from religion (which is also kept generic), and from social policy (also granted to all nations). There's nothing in which to make sense of the discoveries being made, the social policies, or religion other than the will of the player, which more often than not is a simple "because I want to," instead of an intense desire for freedom, rationality or god.
And so the game feels hollow, lacking the distinctive drive of Alpha Centauri or prior Civilisation games where an ideal was more than simply a +1 production, it challenged your very thoughts. THe argument for slavery in Civilization III probably is the easiest example to put forward, slaves helped production, while providing some unhappiness. Some civilisations in that game relied entirely on slaves, to the extent that if you instigated a particular wonder (Universal Suffrage?) it would ruin their entire economy. Here the argument for and against slavery is implicit in the gameplay functionality of allowing such an event (which is still present) to occur, slaves speed up production and lower happiness. If you needed to build something then you'd most likely grab slaves. Instant moral, but also utilitarian problem (you could also point to the American Civil War to further the analysis, e.g. Who is a foreign state to dictate our own morals). Civilization V, offers non of these moral quandaries instead leaving the horrors of war, complexities of diplomacy, and the advancement of technologies as a status quo, something which cannot be changed. It could be argued that Civilization V could be a warning against globalisation, the homogenising of ideologies to such an extent that none stand out on their own.
Perhaps if the game weren't so wide spread, or encompassing Firaxis might have been able to provide the reasons for each nation/religion/researches' discoveries and desires, which to me informs the player much more about civilisation and world history, rather than just beating a game. I beat the game is much more hollow than I changed the course of a civilisation.
####
In short don't grab Civilization V. Also check out the earlier post about Alpha Centauri here.
In other news I've started my PhD, which is exciting if a little busy. I've got a bunch of different journal articles, and reviews to read, then I've got to write my own notes, a detailed plan, more refining of ideas, etc, etc. There's a lot to do, though I don't necessarily have to do it all at once - it's more of a better if I do thing.
Reviews are still popping up on Videau though it's getting hard to find time to pick up, play and review games. Still things are good, if busy.
Saturday 22 February 2014
Saturday 8 February 2014
Digital Romance
It's a relatively unexplored area in the scope of popular culture, with most stories being ones of warnings - don't fall in love with your computer (the other) seems to be the general argument. One only has to look at 2001 A Space Odyssey to see the fear of alien-unknown sentience, especially since it has it's own agency.
With Her though, the distrust of the unknown, the general slide into sci-fi horror or conspiracy doesn't occur at all. Instead you get a sappy, feel good romance that treads heavily into a sci-fi utopia. A man, Theodore Twombly, falls in love with an artificial intelligence (Samantha), that's it, that's all that's there, just a romance. Of course there's the original skepticism from the protagonist himself, and people within the community, for most of the film there's this overbearing sense of acceptance. Which is strange, I really didn't expect that from the cinema, especially when exploring sci fi, but I guess that just shows how much society's integrated into this co-existence with machines, or rather software entities.
That doesn't mean that the story isn't complex, as many relationships are, but there's a strange optimism and openness that relaxes, and entrances.
So what about the relationship to games? What bearing does this film have to the realm of the interactive?
Well I'm going to look at Christine Love's games:
Digital A Love Story
and
Don't take it personally, babe, it just ain't your story
Which are two romance games (never thought I'd write that before), with different twists on how people interact through the online/electronic world, and form relationships. Though both are cyber related the direction of each follows different ideals. Digital, looks at the anonymity of the web, and the amazing ability that we have to communicate with each other through BBS (old school webz yo) and the limiting, yet also expressive medium of text. Don't take it, on the other hand looks into social media and the relationships that form through that - although to an extreme where privacy doesn't exist, at least not in the online world.
For the rest of this post I'm going to look into the two elements of communication and privacy, and how they relate to both games and the film Her.
###
Digital A Love Story, places you (non gendered, an obscure almost generic character) in the exciting world of the 1988 web, dialing up on a 28k modem into local addresses to obtain the latest news/local gossip you contribute to the BBS boards as you would in a forum now (or if that's too old just a regular old Web 2.0 article comment set up). Through messaging each poster privately, you eventually get to know Emily, an aspiring poet, who gradually starts talking to you over the course of a few messages (the dates/times are probably over a few game days, but for the purposes of the game you run through un-interrupted).
Then you fall in love.
Emily disappears, you search for her on the other bulletin boards, and in the course of that you find out that she's an AI.
The story goes on from there with the revelation that there's other AIs, government conspiracies, and a menacing Reaper virus that's trying to kill them. But that doesn't really add anything to the idea of human-AI relationships let alone communication, it just puts a nice Hollywood "save the day!" to end things (read relationship dialogue) before they get too repetitive - though a game about surfing the web and talking to an AI wouldn't be too bad either.
It approaches the uncanny valley of talkbots, and the Loebner Test, with the moment of truth as Emily is revealed to be an AI giving you a bit of a surprise (though really you could say that the about the whole game, it's all artificial/crafted). in the world of the web, in the word of the web it's just an extra descriptor of the person, there's no negative effects or lack of physicality, in the scope of the web Emily is just as real as everyone else on a BBS board, but in interfacing with the real world (which the game leaves out), there would be problems.
Her picks up the slack in this, displaying human and AI in a sort of augmented reality where everything is integrated with the digital, in this the overlap becomes more understandable, and can be worked through. Futrhermore the fact that interaction with computers has become oral, the feedback and overlap of emotions, data, communication essentially becomes tied up with this concept of relationships - especially when there's feedback. And the film addresses this, shows the abstraction of weblife via vocal commands (conversations are stilted face to face, but natural with your internet, event if lonely), the strange utopia where there's no blue collar workers or proletariat - everyone seems to be an artist or designer, there's nothing that exists separate from this symbiosis of machine and humanity. As such, the interaction is understandable, if a little too refined for the setting - there are no serious problems to the relationship, aside from physicality.
Though even this is explained in all it's awkward charm. Surrogates, phone-internet? sex, the roaming around and walking, while not explaining all features of how such a relationship can work makes attempts at addressing complications as if this were any regular relationship.
Where Digital falls down of course is in its all too quick ending, due to story constraints - the need of some sort of resolution to end with and of course it is death that Christine Love uses. In Digital, this is resolution is done quickly, without the relationship developing into anything besides the beginning honeymoon period where there are no complications, just the enjoyment of the new and the fall into love. Of course as a game it probably doesn't have the same scope as Her has as a film (in that there has to be an active component such as "hacking," or talking to Emily), but the limitations are still there, in that it only introduces us to this strange concept of digital love, but ends it quickly before we can ask too many questions.
Her though...
Her does something different. The film progresses past relationship crisis points of self doubt, communication issues and insecurities, to this strange old-age of the AIs (there are multiple). The AIs eventually progress to such a point of self evolution/speed that real-world communications (such as talking to your loved ones) becomes too hard, and so the AI have to leave to a higher plane of existence (or death, the film links these ideas closely). The ending while it can be construed as a cheap form of closure, is also perhaps the most easily explainable one; ending the film early with the two living happily ever after would've been too cheap, ending the film with Theodore Twombly living to an old age happy with his AI, would also be cheap.
The fact that Theodore is once again alone as he was at the start, and bereft of Samantha, as though the whole thing were a waking dream wraps up too well the niggles and scratches that might develop through the course of the film. It is a sad reflection on the inevitability of death, the fact that life pulls people in different directions, the inescapable gulf of existing as separate from another, and it does it all in quiet grief that permeates well after the credits roll.
###
Don't take it personally, is a stranger game to enjoy, and a harder one to convey - in short it deals with professional and private relationships between a teacher, John Rook, and his students. Although some of it is meant to be intentionally perturbing, such as having a physical relationship with a student (through your own choices, so the onus is also on the player), makes me feel as though the game has a stigma on the same lines as eechi. However creepy relationships are not the focus of the game, instead it's focus is on the incidental nature of storytelling through social media/web 2.0 (which is how you play through most of the game).
John Rook, a new teacher at an Ontario high school is assigned to a new class that has all sorts of high school drama occurring. The school in order to prevent online bullying has allowed John full access to all of the student's information on the local web/Facebook. Of course John peruses at will (since there's nothing else to do) and learns intimate details about each of his students.
Eventually it's revealed that the students assumed the entire time that you were reading all of their messages, and as such for these new 2027 (the date in which the game is set) students, the very notion of web privacy, does not exist. Thus relieving you of any notion of guilt that exists from invasion of privacy, but also making an argument against the notion that your web content is somehow free from a passerby's eyes.
Her reciprocates this openness with the free access of information that's available for Samantha, Theodore, and anyone else in their world on any one. Early in the movie there's a date with Amelia, to which Theodore mentions some of her personal history.
"You looked me up?"
Pause
"How Sweet."
It's a strange occurrence that's become more commonplace than before, especially with the proliferation of the web for everything, there's a strong expectation for people having a web presence. Though the personal details element is harder to know about, I guess if information you thought to be private got out there would be more alarm than approval. Even then searching for people on social media is still a bit of an iffy thing to proclaim openly. In Her it at least seems like a norm.
Still there is the issue of open access to software, and messages, especially in regard to the overwhelming presence, and access that an AI would have on your personal files and messages. The limited privacy that Theodore is suddenly ushered into with the arrival of his AI, for a lot of people be obtrusive. The fact that at the beginning, the AI is still simple, the relationship between the two is very much a professional one, which buffers potential embarrassing files, or thoughts that Theodore might've committed to his computer. At this stage there's no need for embarrassment, since there's no understanding of what the content is, so the AI can't judge. Eventually though, there's a development and Samantha begins making a lot of personal calls in regard to Theodore's life - mainly showing concern, but also occasionally disapproval. Although the film doesn't make a point of it in a negative way there's no part of Theodore's life (besides what he currently thinks) that isn't available to Samantha at an time.
The fact that people can keep secrets, or at the very least exist in a vacuum of social hubs (there seems to be no social network, just straight data), adds to this notion of personal privacy (since nobody puts up thoughts, but rather just data), but also takes away from it, in that data about yourself or your work, information that's not about your emotional, relate-able self doesn't exist. That is until you have an AI on your system, then all your information is processed into building this character of yourself rather than tweets or posts.
Perhaps, like in the game as well, eventually the notion of privacy will go away in an apathetic haze of quiet acceptance that everything you do online will be watched - but not effectively judged or stigmatised, as would be expected, or assumed.
###
Looking back over Her, and Christine Love's games makes me wonder what kind of attitude was prevalent when stories of interracial or homosexual relationships first popped up. I assume people originally looked upon it as some sort of fantastical aberration that couldn't work out (which I guess would also end in death as the resolving factor), but I wonder if it was written, in the same way as Her was, exploring the full possibilities and problems of relationships - treating those relationships like any other. Though I do guess the whole situation is an entirely new kettle of fish, since you couldn't have a relationship like that from the down of time - AI and human relationships are mostly speculative (unless you count Japanese animatronic dolls or date games which have ... an interesting history).
(Note: I'm just trying to think of a comparable unthinkable, yet possibly true relationship/situation that's on the same lines as Digital Romance stories. I am not saying that interracial/homosexual relationships are the stuff of legends.)
Anyway here's a final spin on the whole AI conversation that's somewhat of an argument of why AI relationships should never occur. Enjoy!
With Her though, the distrust of the unknown, the general slide into sci-fi horror or conspiracy doesn't occur at all. Instead you get a sappy, feel good romance that treads heavily into a sci-fi utopia. A man, Theodore Twombly, falls in love with an artificial intelligence (Samantha), that's it, that's all that's there, just a romance. Of course there's the original skepticism from the protagonist himself, and people within the community, for most of the film there's this overbearing sense of acceptance. Which is strange, I really didn't expect that from the cinema, especially when exploring sci fi, but I guess that just shows how much society's integrated into this co-existence with machines, or rather software entities.
That doesn't mean that the story isn't complex, as many relationships are, but there's a strange optimism and openness that relaxes, and entrances.
So what about the relationship to games? What bearing does this film have to the realm of the interactive?
Well I'm going to look at Christine Love's games:
Digital A Love Story
and
Don't take it personally, babe, it just ain't your story
Which are two romance games (never thought I'd write that before), with different twists on how people interact through the online/electronic world, and form relationships. Though both are cyber related the direction of each follows different ideals. Digital, looks at the anonymity of the web, and the amazing ability that we have to communicate with each other through BBS (old school webz yo) and the limiting, yet also expressive medium of text. Don't take it, on the other hand looks into social media and the relationships that form through that - although to an extreme where privacy doesn't exist, at least not in the online world.
For the rest of this post I'm going to look into the two elements of communication and privacy, and how they relate to both games and the film Her.
###
Digital A Love Story, places you (non gendered, an obscure almost generic character) in the exciting world of the 1988 web, dialing up on a 28k modem into local addresses to obtain the latest news/local gossip you contribute to the BBS boards as you would in a forum now (or if that's too old just a regular old Web 2.0 article comment set up). Through messaging each poster privately, you eventually get to know Emily, an aspiring poet, who gradually starts talking to you over the course of a few messages (the dates/times are probably over a few game days, but for the purposes of the game you run through un-interrupted).
Then you fall in love.
Emily disappears, you search for her on the other bulletin boards, and in the course of that you find out that she's an AI.
The story goes on from there with the revelation that there's other AIs, government conspiracies, and a menacing Reaper virus that's trying to kill them. But that doesn't really add anything to the idea of human-AI relationships let alone communication, it just puts a nice Hollywood "save the day!" to end things (read relationship dialogue) before they get too repetitive - though a game about surfing the web and talking to an AI wouldn't be too bad either.
It approaches the uncanny valley of talkbots, and the Loebner Test, with the moment of truth as Emily is revealed to be an AI giving you a bit of a surprise (though really you could say that the about the whole game, it's all artificial/crafted). in the world of the web, in the word of the web it's just an extra descriptor of the person, there's no negative effects or lack of physicality, in the scope of the web Emily is just as real as everyone else on a BBS board, but in interfacing with the real world (which the game leaves out), there would be problems.
Her picks up the slack in this, displaying human and AI in a sort of augmented reality where everything is integrated with the digital, in this the overlap becomes more understandable, and can be worked through. Futrhermore the fact that interaction with computers has become oral, the feedback and overlap of emotions, data, communication essentially becomes tied up with this concept of relationships - especially when there's feedback. And the film addresses this, shows the abstraction of weblife via vocal commands (conversations are stilted face to face, but natural with your internet, event if lonely), the strange utopia where there's no blue collar workers or proletariat - everyone seems to be an artist or designer, there's nothing that exists separate from this symbiosis of machine and humanity. As such, the interaction is understandable, if a little too refined for the setting - there are no serious problems to the relationship, aside from physicality.
Though even this is explained in all it's awkward charm. Surrogates, phone-internet? sex, the roaming around and walking, while not explaining all features of how such a relationship can work makes attempts at addressing complications as if this were any regular relationship.
Where Digital falls down of course is in its all too quick ending, due to story constraints - the need of some sort of resolution to end with and of course it is death that Christine Love uses. In Digital, this is resolution is done quickly, without the relationship developing into anything besides the beginning honeymoon period where there are no complications, just the enjoyment of the new and the fall into love. Of course as a game it probably doesn't have the same scope as Her has as a film (in that there has to be an active component such as "hacking," or talking to Emily), but the limitations are still there, in that it only introduces us to this strange concept of digital love, but ends it quickly before we can ask too many questions.
Her though...
Her does something different. The film progresses past relationship crisis points of self doubt, communication issues and insecurities, to this strange old-age of the AIs (there are multiple). The AIs eventually progress to such a point of self evolution/speed that real-world communications (such as talking to your loved ones) becomes too hard, and so the AI have to leave to a higher plane of existence (or death, the film links these ideas closely). The ending while it can be construed as a cheap form of closure, is also perhaps the most easily explainable one; ending the film early with the two living happily ever after would've been too cheap, ending the film with Theodore Twombly living to an old age happy with his AI, would also be cheap.
The fact that Theodore is once again alone as he was at the start, and bereft of Samantha, as though the whole thing were a waking dream wraps up too well the niggles and scratches that might develop through the course of the film. It is a sad reflection on the inevitability of death, the fact that life pulls people in different directions, the inescapable gulf of existing as separate from another, and it does it all in quiet grief that permeates well after the credits roll.
###
Don't take it personally, is a stranger game to enjoy, and a harder one to convey - in short it deals with professional and private relationships between a teacher, John Rook, and his students. Although some of it is meant to be intentionally perturbing, such as having a physical relationship with a student (through your own choices, so the onus is also on the player), makes me feel as though the game has a stigma on the same lines as eechi. However creepy relationships are not the focus of the game, instead it's focus is on the incidental nature of storytelling through social media/web 2.0 (which is how you play through most of the game).
John Rook, a new teacher at an Ontario high school is assigned to a new class that has all sorts of high school drama occurring. The school in order to prevent online bullying has allowed John full access to all of the student's information on the local web/Facebook. Of course John peruses at will (since there's nothing else to do) and learns intimate details about each of his students.
Eventually it's revealed that the students assumed the entire time that you were reading all of their messages, and as such for these new 2027 (the date in which the game is set) students, the very notion of web privacy, does not exist. Thus relieving you of any notion of guilt that exists from invasion of privacy, but also making an argument against the notion that your web content is somehow free from a passerby's eyes.
Her reciprocates this openness with the free access of information that's available for Samantha, Theodore, and anyone else in their world on any one. Early in the movie there's a date with Amelia, to which Theodore mentions some of her personal history.
"You looked me up?"
Pause
"How Sweet."
It's a strange occurrence that's become more commonplace than before, especially with the proliferation of the web for everything, there's a strong expectation for people having a web presence. Though the personal details element is harder to know about, I guess if information you thought to be private got out there would be more alarm than approval. Even then searching for people on social media is still a bit of an iffy thing to proclaim openly. In Her it at least seems like a norm.
Still there is the issue of open access to software, and messages, especially in regard to the overwhelming presence, and access that an AI would have on your personal files and messages. The limited privacy that Theodore is suddenly ushered into with the arrival of his AI, for a lot of people be obtrusive. The fact that at the beginning, the AI is still simple, the relationship between the two is very much a professional one, which buffers potential embarrassing files, or thoughts that Theodore might've committed to his computer. At this stage there's no need for embarrassment, since there's no understanding of what the content is, so the AI can't judge. Eventually though, there's a development and Samantha begins making a lot of personal calls in regard to Theodore's life - mainly showing concern, but also occasionally disapproval. Although the film doesn't make a point of it in a negative way there's no part of Theodore's life (besides what he currently thinks) that isn't available to Samantha at an time.
The fact that people can keep secrets, or at the very least exist in a vacuum of social hubs (there seems to be no social network, just straight data), adds to this notion of personal privacy (since nobody puts up thoughts, but rather just data), but also takes away from it, in that data about yourself or your work, information that's not about your emotional, relate-able self doesn't exist. That is until you have an AI on your system, then all your information is processed into building this character of yourself rather than tweets or posts.
Perhaps, like in the game as well, eventually the notion of privacy will go away in an apathetic haze of quiet acceptance that everything you do online will be watched - but not effectively judged or stigmatised, as would be expected, or assumed.
###
Looking back over Her, and Christine Love's games makes me wonder what kind of attitude was prevalent when stories of interracial or homosexual relationships first popped up. I assume people originally looked upon it as some sort of fantastical aberration that couldn't work out (which I guess would also end in death as the resolving factor), but I wonder if it was written, in the same way as Her was, exploring the full possibilities and problems of relationships - treating those relationships like any other. Though I do guess the whole situation is an entirely new kettle of fish, since you couldn't have a relationship like that from the down of time - AI and human relationships are mostly speculative (unless you count Japanese animatronic dolls or date games which have ... an interesting history).
(Note: I'm just trying to think of a comparable unthinkable, yet possibly true relationship/situation that's on the same lines as Digital Romance stories. I am not saying that interracial/homosexual relationships are the stuff of legends.)
Anyway here's a final spin on the whole AI conversation that's somewhat of an argument of why AI relationships should never occur. Enjoy!
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