TKO Creations

Some writing related news to convey…

The first draft of Dire Water is now completed, in the sense that what has been done will fill a $10 light novel price point quite admirably.  I like how it’s fleshed out quite well.

However, Sunay’s tale was not the slightest bit content to fit in a single $10 light novel price point, and so I felt the most prudent path was to split it in two to maintain the smaller light reading set by The Tower of Kartage.

Still not entirely certain what I’ll title the second part of Sunay’s story, but needless to say, once again, a world of my development has expanded far beyond my initial intent.

You’d think I’d expect that sort of thing by now.

I’m going to start off with a story that I haven’t told very often, not so much out of shame or guilt but that I hadn’t ever particularly thought of it as relevant to whatever topic I addressed.  But now, for this topic, it is.

When I was a freshman in high school (no, I’m not going to tell anyone how long ago that was), I became a target of some of the upperclassmen student assistants to the phys ed teacher (he was an older man and needed the assistance with larger and bulkier equipment).  They decided I was “stuffing” my shorts for reasons I’m not terribly certain of (at least that was the cited reason I was told), and that I needed to be “checked.”

I was rather fortunate that my PE class was at the end of the day, because I didn’t have to go through the rest of my classes after the student assistants and three classmates who joined into the plan overpowered me in the hall leading to the locker room, ripped my shorts down, tore off my underwear, pushed me around, then left me with my shredded underwear rubbed in my face.

At the time, I wasn’t sure what to make of it (I was not the most sexually mature child even by the time I reached college, much less a high school freshman).  I was embarrassed to have to get on the bus and walk the quarter-mile home effectively commando with my underwear tucked in my bag.  I was surprised when my parents were irate when I told them what happened (especially from my father, who had always struck me as aloof at best when it came to bullying).  I was confused when the school principal and superintendent wanted to resolve the matter quietly.

The shame only set in when my peers started to quietly show sympathy and scorn for the kid “who got raped.”  This was high school, after all.  There was no such thing as quiet gossip in high school.  I wasn’t sure what had happened (I certainly didn’t agree I had been raped), but whatever it was, it clearly was bad, and that was something that no doubt contributed to the anti-social withdrawing and the faux-comedian shell I formed for many years afterward.

Nowadays, I know what it was, that I had been sexually assaulted, though comparatively tame to what normally happens.  It’s another part of the reason why I tend not to speak about it, as it really would come across as false equivalence to someone who suffered the full nine yards, I’m sure.  But the point really isn’t about the degree of assault, but the response to it from the “society” of the high school I attended.

“Silence is sometimes an argument of Consent.” (Thomas Hobbes – Leviathan, ii. xxvi. 138.)

When the general thrust of people hear the term “rape culture” and the claim that we all perpetuate it, the above line is what I think about.  Because to me, it represents one of the biggest cultural fallacies in Western society, something that stems from cowardice (Thomas Hobbes not wanting to speak out against the crown, but at the same time not support royal decrees), rather than any moral grounding.

It’s a problem because silence is not consent, and I would argue never is.  Anybody who has been a victim of sexual assault, abuse, or rape can tell you that.  Silence is a statement of fear.  Whether it is a coward of a philosopher afraid of punishment, a rape victim not wanting to report his/her assault, or a society not wanting to face uncomfortable truths until they have to… it is fear that is talking, not implied consent.

It’s also the biggest issue I have with the term “rape culture”, because I’m not sure it’s a particularly accurate term (at least on the surface, the academic definition is a much more robust term with a litany of descriptions that utilize much of what I’m about to say here).  When our society is forced to face the truth of sexual crimes, we come down hard on those responsible.  When there is absolutely no way to handwave it away, we destroy a rapist’s life, we destroy their reputation, we force them onto federal lists that they can never get removed from, make them announce their crimes to everyone in their neighborhood when they move in.

Even being a beloved celebrity (normally a near bulletproof shield for any number of misgivings), doesn’t necessarily save someone when sexual crimes are concerned.  Bill Cosby may have some high profile support, but outside of those talking heads, this once “wholesome” character is in a state best described as “eviscerated.”

I don’t think our culture supports and encourages rape even implicitly.  I think it’s more insidious than that.  We encourage ignorance.  The rape jokes that are meant as humor, the subtle pressure (for both men and women) to be silent when they are assaulted, I don’t think it’s so much to protect rapists as much as it is to protect people from having to confront the issue.

Deep down, we know it’s pervasive.  Deep down, we know anyone could have molested a child, ravished a friend or a spouse, taken advantage of an incapacitated peer… and we really don’t want to find out who.  We don’t want to think that Father Geniality sodomized his altar boy.  We don’t want to believe that anything other than playful exuberance occurred in Neverland Ranch.  We don’t want to confront the Super Bowl winning Quarterback about forcing himself onto women in a restroom.  We don’t want to even think that the voice of Fat Albert used his power and influence to take advantage of starstruck young ladies… but when we have to, by God will there be hell to pay.

Now, to those who have been victimized, it’s of little difference, just like how I was not at all impressed by my high school’s administrators insistently keeping the events and punishment for my assault quiet.  But at this point in my life, I do not believe that the school was trying to protect the students who attacked me.  I think they were trying to protect themselves and the school district from having a very disquieting dialogue; of having to face the truth that sexual assault isn’t a “small problem” or an “inner-city problem”, or even just a “woman’s problem”, but can happen anywhere and to anyone.

Instead of a “Rape Culture”, I’d argue it’s more a “Fear Culture.”  I also think that’s why people outside of feminist thought get so very defensive when the term is raised, because we as a society don’t support or protect rapists… at least not directly.  “I don’t support rapists!” they will shout, and I honestly think they believe that.  What they do support, however, is the silence that allows the crimes to continue and go unpunished.  They’re afraid of what they will find when they pull back the curtain, and that is a more subtle defense, because it’s something that can be more easily denied by individuals… because it’s a denial they earnestly mean with all their heart.

How do we fight that?  I don’t know.  I wish I did.  But much like Thomas Hobbes… it’s hard to take a stand, even if it’s something as simple as standing up for the victim of assault.  I’d also love to claim it’s getting better, but I’m not even sure I can say that much.

At least this new age of online socializing has given people who have been victimized a network of others and supporters that never existed before, at least not so readily.  Maybe the baby steps forward have to be enough.

The goal for me for NaNoWriMo wasn’t to finish Dire Water in a month (that would have taken a lot more time than I had available to me).  My goal was more to set a pace and be able to keep to it every day, even if I “didn’t feel like it” or “was too busy that day” or any other number of excuses I (and other writers) like to make to justify not getting the work done.

And I am happy to say I did that nigh perfectly, hitting the 50k word goal right on November 30th, never once slipping on the daily pace by even a single word.

I’m rather pleased with myself, which perhaps is a little silly since this is what I’m supposed to do.  But minor victories are still victories, right?

That’s what I’m going to tell myself, at least.

… Well, at least the halfway point of 50k.  The full manuscript of Dire Water will most likely be closer to twice that, but for the sake of National Novel Writing Month, I am halfway there.

You can follow my progress at this link here if you wish.  I will say at 25k written… the story itself isn’t bad at all, though like most first drafts, it’s a really rough thing to read though (and why I haven’t slapped down any excerpt for it).  I’ve got a good pace going, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep it through the rest of the month.

I’m gonna tell you a story (that I’m copying from a discussion I had on Facebook).

Back around the turn of the century I was a contributor for a site called the Detroit Sports Rag. It was specifically built to be a watchdog group for the Detroit sports media. Now this was a city in which the media was (and is) pretty much blatantly in bed with the teams they were supposed to cover.

I mean, they didn’t even try to hide it. The Ford Family hosted media events specifically for supportive journalists. Beat reporters that asked uncomfortable questions would find their press credentials revoked by the very papers they wrote for.

When Rob Parker had a book deal go south, then General Manager of the Detroit Pistons, Joe Dumars, straight cut the dude a check to cover the failed book launch. The ramifications of that? Absolutely nothing. Parker continued to write for the Pistons beat for years.

This was an industry where Mitch Albom could write and have published by the Detroit Free Press about a Michigan State Final Four appearance that he couldn’t have attended, since at the time he sent it into press, that event HADN’T EVEN HAPPENED YET. His punishment? A two week supension… oh, did I mention Albom at that point was writing articles about once a month?

Michael Rosenberg had a personal relationship with former U-M coach Lloyd Carr, to the point where he openly declared in public that he was going to get then coach Rich Rodriguez fired. When a potential rules infraction was uncovered, did Rosenberg recuse himself from the obvious conflict of interest? Nope. In fact, he gleefully took the investigation, intentionally misrepresented facts, trumped up the charges, and tried to get the man he wanted fired fired. His punishment? Absolutely nothing. He works at Sports Illustrated now.

The site I contributed to? It’s now a one person blog that even he admits caters to nothing but a small group of people.

That’s the sort of problem with “ethics” in journalism, and there’s really not a debate to be had. We (as a society) KNOW what the problem is. We just don’t care, and certainly don’t care nearly enough to foot the bill that would help keep journalists free of the influence of the people they’re reporting on.

~~~

So when people who fly the #GamerGate hashtag wonder why everyone outside of gaming kinda rolls their eyes and dismisses their concerns, this is pretty much why.  This isn’t unexplored ground here, and it’s a debate that has been had in far more important fields as well.  It’s a debate that society has pretty much settled itself on, and that answer has been, “Sure… unbiased reporting would be cool and all, but if we have to support it… eh… we’ll take the yellow journalism.”

Hell, I would argue in some fields (especially in politics), we kinda… like it.  Biased reporting is rewarded.  The pundits (not the reporters) are the ones that make the big money.  Op-ed is what makes the front page, not the fact-checking.  We chase the clickbait, not the accurate correction.  We want to get worked up and in a froth, and the best way to do that is to stomp our feet angrily at something we know is “wrong.”

If we want ethical journalism, there needs to fundamental changes in the very fabric of our society (and possibly even ol’ human nature itself).  I don’t see that happening any time soon.

Little bit of background; I didn’t get much chance to play the first game at the time of its release, just a handful of hours with a friends XBox 360.  And my first impressions were rather… poor, to put it mildly.  It really struck me in that limited exposure to be your typical male sex fantasy romp, the main character spending extended periods half-naked (or barely covered by flowing hair) didn’t help matters.

So, imagine my surprise to be talking about the game’s sequel with friends and hearing the claim that Bayonetta is actually a very positive feminist character.  With the circumstance of owning a Wii U and the inclusion of both games in one package, I decided to give it a second chance, and play through both games in their entirety.

Are the Bayonetta games actually very strong feminist models below the surface?  The conclusion I’ve reached is, yes… ish.

Now, bear in mind, no two models of feminism are the same, so there is a lot of “Your Mileage May Vary” when it comes to assessing any given work.  On top of that, within the Bayonetta games, there are really two levels to analyze, which muddies the water even further.

Firstly, let’s talk about Bayonetta herself.

One big problem that I tend to have with “strong” female characters is that writers tend to mistake “strong” with “masculine”; creating a character that is basically a man with larger breasts.  And while its true that there are certainly women that fit that personality type, it tends to be the default way that writers tend to go when they want to create a female character that is more than window-dressing.  “Femshep” of the Mass Effect series suffers from this issue.  While it’s certainly true that she’s a soldier by trade and that profession tends to lead to a certain mentality, when you play both the male and female versions of the character the illusion really gets torn apart and you discover that “Femshep” is literally “Broshep” with a female rig and textures.

(And yes I used the word “literally” as it is defined, not ironically or in bad grammar.)

Bayonetta, on the other hand, embraces her femininity.  She openly likes “girly” things, and makes no apologies for it.  She gleefully parades in lavish dresses, accessories, and happily shops for “heels.”  She openly admits cockroaches are terrifying.  But her feminine traits are not a weakness.  They’re a personal choice.  She takes all the feminine stereotypes, owns it, and turns it on its head.  If you have a problem with it, she will kick your ass and make you call her “Mummy.”  No one in the setting disrespects her womanhood and gets away unscathed.  She flirts openly and intimidates with her openness towards her own sexuality.  She commands respect and gets it, while being completely and unabashedly “girly.”

There is a lot of girl power in the character, and it is definitely something good to see.  That the feminine does not have to equal weak is a message that needs to be delivered more often, and a lesson that a good many writers could do to learn.

But now we get to the surface, the image that is thrust into the public eye, where everyone’s first impressions lie… and that’s where it gets dicey.

While it’s true that much of the time that she’s half naked, it’s usually in the middle of combat, and the player’s eyes (even the horny male) is focused on much more visually demanding things, and while even many of the cutscenes where she’s effectively nude with just curtains of swirling hair are usually very short and largely tame, there are more than one instance where she is laying on her back with her legs spread open and nothing but a thin wisp of her hair covering her erogenous zones while she winks playfully that are absolutely for no reason but to titillate the stereotypical horny male gamer.  And while it is true that there are elements of feminism that say embracing sexuality in such a fashion can be empowering, it’s a very flimsy rationale for those few pretty blatantly over-the-top scenes.  Perhaps it’s one of those “Your Mileage May Vary” moments, but if so, it doesn’t get very good miles to the gallon for me in this particular case.

The game itself is amazing (especially Bayonetta 2, which is my favorite of the year so far), and Bayonetta herself is certainly a huge step forward from the usual portrayal of strong female characters in video games (and even in most media for that matter).  If you can look past those astonishingly small number of instances of blatant pandering, there is certainly a lot of merit to the argument that the titular character is indeed a very powerful and inspiring female character model.

But if you can’t look past them, I can’t say I terribly fault you.  It is kinda unfortunate that such a very good character is packaged in with some (admittedly few) depressing moments of pathetically shallow eye-candy.

I kinda touched on this during my pair of #GamerGate posts… but that really was just a surface thing.

Today, I think I’m going to delve a little bit deeper (and probably upset some people in the process), but eh, whatever.

The real reason I don’t consider myself a “gamer” is because… well… gamers really strike me as very angry people.  It doesn’t even matter if the issue is important (in the sense that issues in video games can be important) or trivial.  Go anywhere on this wide web, and all you see is rage.  Either they are up in arms over which console is the best, or about the best graphics card, or this game is exclusive to this platform, or something was changed in a patch, [x] game is getting a sequel while [y] isn’t… go to any official website for any developer, 4chan, 8chan, IRC… anywhere… and just take in the sheer amount of vitriol, rage, and venom from every corner of the gaming world.

It’s a concept that is pretty much entirely foreign to me; getting so emotionally torqued over something so… benign.  If I don’t like a game, I just don’t play it.  If I don’t like a console (and to be honest, if not for gifts from family, I wouldn’t have had a game console since the Playstation… the first one), I don’t buy it.  If I don’t like what a company is doing, I don’t support them.  It seems like the perfectly rational response to something so very insignificant.

It looks increasingly to me that to be a “gamer” requires a level of fanaticism that I simply don’t care to have for something so small.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t intend this as a judgment.  People do plenty of things that make no sense to me, but that’s why we’re are different.  I’m sure there’s been no amount of people who look at me and wonder why I’m still writing in a world where writing is slightly less valued than a panhandler on the exit ramp of a freeway.  I ask that question of myself honestly.  But that’s the reason folks.  The anger seems silly.  The bitterness and rage that boils gamer blood on a daily basis is a stress that I simply don’t want, and actively avoid.

There’s something oddly fitting about a entertainment convention going on over Halloween weekend.  It might be the only time cosplayers don’t feel out of place out in public.

At least on Friday, anyway.

I won’t be in costume, if for no reason that they tend to horribly uncomfortable and I’ll be spending hours manning a booth and hopefully selling books.  Sorry if that disappoints anyone.

Okay, away from #GamerGate and onto my actual port of business.

I’ve been a supporter of National Novel Writing Month for many years, but as of late had not really had the time or opportunity to participate in it.

This year, however, is as good of an opportunity to try, as I will be writing up the first draft of the second book in the Endgames origin series, Dire Water, featuring the avatar of MegaTokyo’s fan favorite, Komugiko.  I’ll certainly do all I can to hit the 50,000 word goal (though the actual finished novel itself will no doubt exceed that number by more than a fair amount).  The hope is to meet that goal, as it would be pretty depressing to have such a high profile project (as least for me), fall short.

I must not cause such shame to the MegaTokyo brand.  I would have to commit seppuku.

And no one should want that.

Unless I really pissed off the #GamerGaters at this point.

So, having given myself some time to immerse myself more fully into the whole #GamerGate fiasco, here are my further thoughts.

1) It features two different arguments being argued against by no one.

There are two very distinct and indisputable issues that have arisen, and have (through the antics of one Zoe Quinn) become oddly entwined.  They are two arguments that really have no real counter-point… and the only reason that they have become part of an increasingly heated argument is because of extensive yelling through each other.

A) That the environment in games and gaming development is at best cold and at worst openly hostile towards women.  This is sadly an undeniable fact.  The number of female developers and the number of female developers that have faced gross sexual harassment at some point in their careers is pretty close to a 1 to 1 ratio at this point.  Meanwhile, women tend to face unique threats and reactions from the gaming community that men simply do not have to deal with (let’s face it, I don’t think anyone threatened to rape and slice open Mac Walter’s genitals after the ME3 ending debacle).  Men generally do not have to deal with “gamers” spreading nude pictures along with very personal information being publicly released on social media.

And I honestly don’t think anyone outside of a small cadre of neanderthals on 4chan dispute this.  It’s a plainly and self-evident phenomenon, and it’s wrong.  Everyone knows it’s wrong.  The only people who claim its not are summarily ignored (if not deservedly scorned) by the rest of civilization in most normal situations.  The gaming community doesn’t exactly know how to fight it (hint: The Fine Young Capitalists have a very good start going, you should all check them out), but they certainly don’t pretend everything’s okay.

B) That gaming journalism is infested with corruption, bias, and other shady dealings.  As I mentioned before, this is hardly unique to gaming journalism, and it is also a heavily cataloged fact of the matter.  It’s true.  Even the gaming media knows its true.  Honestly, in some ways, that the influence is so brazen is kinda perversely a good thing considering how under the table it could be (trying to figure out who is in bed with who, both literally and metaphorically, in the political arena often takes full teams of private investigators several months of effort).

Many publications do the best they can to minimize the effect, but there’s no escaping it.  Much like with sexism in the industry, there’s no good, all-in-one answer that would solve the problem.  Whenever you have an industry entirely dependent on another industry simply to remain relevant, this level of co-dependence is going to happen.  It’s not even a matter of if or when, it happens from Day 0.  Welcome to society at large.

The problem in #GamerGate, that both “sides” want to limit the discussion to what they have decided the terms shall be, and thusly accuse the other of not caring about their argument.

Which brings up…

2) The battle lines have been drawn by the extremists, and the rest of the crowd is stuck in the middle.

Would it surprise me to learn that the roots of #GamerGate stemmed from a cluster of mouthbreathers on 4chan’s /v/ who wanted to destroy some “uppity” female developer and feminist critic?  Not really.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that is how it started.  I know the environment of the chan network, especially in their IRC channels.  It can become a very despicable cesspool very, very quickly.  But that’s honestly irrelevant to the legion that have picked up the mantle since its inception.  Even if that small cluster is still active and using the shield of “journalistic ethics” to spout their sexist, racist, bigoted screeds (and for the record, I’m sure they are), that does not invalidate every single person who says, “Ya know… a publication shouldn’t be mingling so close to the developers of games they’re supposed to be reviewing.”

Likewise, someone who points out that cluster of misogynist twerps are making the movement as a whole look bad and giving people far too easy of a way to dismiss the movement as a whole isn’t some “femininazi” or “man hater” or “SJW” or whatever pejorative you desire.   They are correctly pointing out that there is a very seedy underbelly to the movement with some pretty disgusting motives, and as such makes it hard for the public as a whole to accept the argument that has percolated from the brew.

Yet, even as both are correct, both are also wrong, because…

3) There really isn’t much of a pro or anti-GamerGate side to begin with.

One of the major criticisms against the “War on Terror” was and is that trying to fight a conventional war against an unconventional enemy is a fool’s errand.  The power structure of terrorist organizations is not the same as a political body, and traditional attacks are extremely ineffective because of the independent nature of the cells and the autonomy that they have in their actions.

Now don’t get me twisted, I am not comparing 4chan or Anonymous to Al Queda or ISIS (which is apparently a real insult that was leveled).  But it’s a reasonably apt analogy to note from those who level criticisms against the #GamerGate hashtag.  There isn’t a centralized body to those that pick up the tag.  There is no primary manifesto.  There aren’t even any specifically defined terms that fit across the board beyond some very general bullet points.  On the same token, there really isn’t a “feminist” army leading their charge, or even a “female developer” interest group that is forming the head of the amoeba attacking the patriarchal culture within the video game industry.  Seeing the hashtag and immediately prescribing a certain set of beliefs, either for or against, is a dangerous assumption that winds up adding nothing of value.  It’s not effective shorthand, and it only raises dander.

I know that tends to run contrary to human “tribal” nature, but thanks to the modern Internet giving the means for more and more people to voice their opinions as individuals to a broad audience, we are seeing the flaws within the inherent tendency for people to coalesce other people into groups, and the “you’re either with us or against us” mentality that shoots up from it.  The people who point at the missteps of the gaming media with the tag aren’t necessarily supporting the fuckwad using that same tag to tweet obscene pictures to a female journalist or game developer or critic.  Someone pointing out those fuckwads isn’t necessarily claiming that journalistic ethics aren’t a problem or aren’t important.

They might be… but you won’t actually know that until you engage that person as an individual and find out what they’re actually saying.

Personally, I think that is what we need more of.  Individual engagement rather than groupthink.  Perhaps, if you see the #GamerGate tag, individuals need to take it for what it is (as a convenient way to put their thoughts into a larger discussion on social media), and take the time to learn what that individual is actually saying as opposed to prescribing a certain set of beliefs based on preconceptions.

But hey, as Dennis Miller used to say, “That’s just my opinion.  I could be wrong.”