By Alex Kierkegaard / June 12, 2009
In the three or four civilized countries of Europe women can through a few centuries of education be made into anything, even into men: not in the sexual sense, to be sure, but in every other sense. Under such a regimen they will one day have acquired all the male strengths and virtues, though they will also of course have had to accept all their weaknesses and vices into the bargain: thus much can, as aforesaid, be extorted. But how shall we endure the intermediate stage, which may itself last a couple of centuries, during which the primeval properties of women, their follies and injustices, are still asserting themselves over what has been newly learned and acquired? This will be the age in which the actual masculine affect will be anger: anger at the fact that all the arts and sciences have been choked and deluged by an unheard-of dilettantism, philosophy talked to death by mind-bewildering babble, politics more fantastic and partisan than ever, society in full dissolution...
This is an article on the girls who nowadays pretend to write about videogames. I say "pretend" because their mind-bewildering babble usually turns out to have very little to do with games, if anything at all. With my condemnation of them, however, I should not like to have wronged the girls and women who covered gaming in the '80s and the '90s -- for they knew very well what they were on about, as did in fact most everyone writing about games back then: young and old, male and female, straight and gay, white and black and yellow and brown, smart -- and even stupid. It is really astonishing what genuine passion does to human beings, how it elevates them.
So let it be noted that the following comments are aimed solely at the latest crop of females in games writing -- for what accusation could anyone feel justified in directing towards someone like, say, Clare Edgeley? What could one possibly reproach her for? Her name aside, if you were to read, say, her Flying Shark, or Psycho Soldier, or Rastan Saga impressions in the May '87 issue of C&VG, you'd have no way of ascertaining her gender -- the language she employs, the analysis she provides, her evident enthusiasm: all these signs, as they arise out of the pages of her writing, are indistinguishable from those of her male colleagues. It is plain that she was burdened by no juvenile hang-ups, she was nurturing no hidden agendas, she was bringing along no deep-seated complexes to work: she was simply a healthy, intelligent person, a happily- and well-constituted human being, naturally thrilled to be playing the latest arcade games, to be living and working at the cutting edge of the so-called pixel revolution: just like her colleagues were, her fellow arcade-goers, her readers -- just like everyone else.
But excitement, enthusiasm, passion -- all these things are over now. So instead of a cool chick gushing over Rastan's fast pace and unrelenting action, what you get today is two-bit fuckin' sluts with provocatively named b(oring)logs, slutty pictures of themselves plastered everywhere, flooding the internet with a small forest's worth of pages full of Pseudo Literary Dan Brown Anecdotes Ayn Rand Gonzo Journalism Look At Me I'm Smart Playing Games Karamazov With A Teenage Wink Shemale Art Motherfuckers comments. And all this -- while the C&VG article has pictures of Rastan and Rastan only! Comments on Rastan and Rastan only! No painfully juvenile pretentiousness in sight! No pathetically desperate cries for validation! No cringe-inducing lowbrowism masquerading as highbrowism! Only a great chick writing about a great game! To think there was a time when bookstores and newsagents had entire racks of magazines featuring exclusively this sort of content -- to think that such quality was once universal, a daily occurrence, taken for granted -- almost brings tears to my eyes. -- Almost, because... well, the laughs I get out of the ridiculousness and absurdity of the current situation thankfully balance out my sadness at the recollection of the intelligence and genuineness of what has been forever lost.
For how can you not laugh when you come across some obviously uneducated trollop referring to Lord of the Rings and Star Wars as "extant cultural sources for non-realistic narratives"? Google it -- you can't make this shit up. -- AND WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? The internet simply does not have lols big enough for me to adequately communicate my reaction to that phrase, or to the sentence and the article that contained it, or to the blog that hosted it, or to the brain that manufactured it. In this respect at least, in respect to laughs, the old and the new gaming press are about equal, the only difference being that the old press actually strove to make you laugh, they did it intentionally, whereas the new one does it unintentionally. So perhaps they are reading Baudrillard after all, and have taken to heart his advice that "if you want to make people laugh, it is better not to be funny."
The more clued-in readers (and this is meant by no means as a compliment, because it should be considered shameful to be clued-in on matters such as this) will have guessed by now that the person I've been alluding to is Leigh Alexander, currently the internet's premier vidyageam journ-lol-list strumpet; the stupid quote is hers too. Her blog is called "Sexy Videogameland" for christsake -- it's plain that she has no intention of being the least bit subtle in her shameless pandering to the prepubescent gamer demographic. THERE IS EVEN A BLOG POST IN WHICH SHE ASKING FOR A BOYFRIEND. AND ANOTHER ONE IN WHICH SHE IS PICTURED JUMPING UP AND DOWN ON A WII FIT BOARD. -- That's what games writing has finally degenerated into, dear readers: strumpets with hairdos jumping up and down on Wii Fit boards. All sadness and nostalgia aside, HOW CAN YOU NOT LAUGH WITH THIS FUCKING RETARDED SHIT!
So as research for this article I spent half an hour going through her blog today, and now deeply regret not having set up a video camera to record myself while reading it. At times I was laughing so hard I am sure I was being heard in the next apartment, at other times my face was probably contorted in new and highly uncomfortable expressions of anguish and consternation. I eventually worked up a migraine for my efforts, and had to go play basketball for a couple of hours to shake off the aftereffects of her interminable, mind-numbing prattling.
But what is the point of this discussion, one may reasonably ask? So what if there's a dumb bitch filling the internet with nonsense -- she's not the first and certainly won't be the last. Well yeah, the only difference being that this dumb bitch is not only filling up her own blog with nonsense: she's also filling up Gamasutra, Wired, Kotaku, Variety, and a host of other places. She's practically everywhere these days; my glance at her blog led me to half a dozen other sites she's been polluting, without counting the numerous so-called "podcasts" she always seems to be yapping on -- all the while every page of hers I've come across strikes me as having the phrase "I AM VAPID, STUPID, AND UNEDUCATED" splattered all over it in massive red letters. And when I read her shit and come across phrases such as "its playability hinges squarely and mundanely on just how gamelike it is", it's as if her entire life's story had suddenly leapt out of the page and began playing itself out right in front of my eyes: the early beatings, molestations, orphanages and foster homes, followed by the initiation gang rapes and five-dollar blowjobs on street corners: until that fateful day when the 38-year-old game journ-lol-list who she had just deflowered, breathlessly promised, while holding his tiny, yellowish cum-stained prick in both hands and trembling all over from heart-rending emotion, to make her "THE QUEEN OF GEAM JOURN-LOL-LISM!" But how to make this dumb, illiterate prostitute turn out acceptable magazine copy? (acceptable, it should go without saying, by the standards of games journ-lol-lists...) In the same way the journ-lol-list landed his own job in the first place: by using a thesaurus to turn sentences such as "vroom vroom vroom fun! dis iz a good gamez!" into something acceptable for today's gaming publications, such as perhaps "ITS PLAYABILITY HINGES SQUARELY AND MUNDANELY ON JUST HOW GAMELIKE IT IS."
On a more serious note, I am only half-kidding here. There is zero doubt that the reason this little tramp, and others like her, have been allowed to flood gaming publications with their incoherent babbling is because of the sexual frustrations of socially-stunted virgin game journ-lol-lists. Take Chris Kohler, for example, the fat ugly fuck who runs Wired's games blog. OR PERHAPS IT'S A COINCIDENCE THAT WHEN THIS POKEMAN OTAKU WAS GIVEN A BUDGET TO HIRE PEOPLE TO HELP HIM OUT, THREE OUT OF THE FOUR HE PICKED WERE GIRLS. AND WHAT DOES IT MATTER IF THE MOST THEY WERE CAPABLE OF DOING IS COPY-PASTE LEFTOVER LULZ FROM OTHER BLOGS OR RECORD FOR POSTERITY THEIR WII FIT-JUMPING ANTICS? WHAT DOES IT MATTER IF WIRED MAGAZINE, A SOMETIMES GENUINELY WORTHWHILE PUBLICATION, "THE BIBLE OF THE DIGITAL AGE", AS IT HAS BEEN CALLED BY AT LEAST ONE PERSON WHO KNOWS WHAT HE'S ON ABOUT, HAS THE WORST MAINSTREAM GAMING BLOG IN THE WORLD -- WORSE EVEN THAN KOTAKU AND JOYSTIQ? -- GAME REPORTING IS NOT WHAT KOHLER HIRED THE BITCHES FOR.
So yeah, as I've said before, and as with 99% of the issues arising from within the world of gaming -- this shit is not exactly rocket science. Nerd sexual frustration: That is why Wired's games blog is written by three hobags; that is why Heather Campbell is ubiquitous in Play magazine; and that is why Leigh Alexander is "news" editor at Gamasutra. Otherwise the very existence of all these vapid sluts in games writing -- let alone their ubiquity -- is inexplicable, a riddle worthy of the Sphinx, since all of them put together know less about games than a random teenage gamefaqs poster.
At this point I am obliged to bring in three fairly experienced gamers, all of whom regularly stuff their brains with far more videogame trash writing than I do, and who are therefore better able to provide us with a more detailed, more ground-level so to speak, view of the situation:
schild of F13.net: As for Leigh Alexander. Meh. Her popularity exists only because she has a vag. She has contributed exactly nothing to videogame journalism.
My misogyny towards girls in gaming press arises from girls in gaming press getting further than many male counterparts due to being female, not due to their ability to say something more entertaining or smart in any way, shape, or form. At the same time, I'm firmly in the camp that sex doesn't matter when it comes to the gaming industry, but the women involved seem to be really keen on bringing it up whenever possible and that drives me fucking mad. I know lots of girls in game dev who are not like this and I can only imagine that they get pissed off as well.
I am, in fact, saying that neither side should be talking about gender at all. Add to the list dumb shit like "RE5 is racist", etc. Look, every race, gender, and denomination thereof has taken a beating in games. Yes, we kill black people in RE5. Also, I've killed countless white people in games. I'm STILL waiting for a game where I can kill Jews. That one is taking a while.
Yes, we like large-titted women in games. And we like washboard-riddled male jocks and giant hulking stupid space marines also. We also like lanky useless fucks who are just accidental heroes and people in horrible situations. I AM SORRY LARA CROFT HAD BIG TITS, GOD, LET'S MAKE A CAREER OUT OF COMPLAINING ABOUT IT.
The real problem here is that women are in the minority. Just like blacks, religious types, etc. So said minority (and I understand that it's the right of any given minority to bitch and moan like small children) goes and throws a fucking hissy fit. I'm just tired of hearing about any of it. I don't want to hear about African Americans in game development. I don't want to hear about sex, women, or misogyny in gaming. I'm just fucking sick of it all. Can't we just talk about games as games? It seems like every other motherfucker has an agenda. Pretty soon my agenda is going to be getting drunk at conventions and knocking some fucking teeth out instead of just getting drunk and having a good time.
Also, for the record, it's not just female journalists, it's all the ones looking for limelight through writing about taboos. And by taboos, I mean "stupid, idiotic shit."
dracko of Select Button: Her article suggesting that games should ditch the damage bar convinced me that she has no business writing about games at a professional level. It's obnoxious to me that someone so clueless about game design is a fairly big voice in videogame journalism. [...] She's being singled out for being a moron who has little qualms about using her gender as a method of putting her naive, uninformed opinions on a pedestal.
James Edwards of Action Button: She writes for major outlets although she knows less about games than many children I know and understands less about game design than almost anyone I know.
I'm reading this "ditch the damage bar" nonsense dracko linked and what I'm taking away is she wants more games to be like Bushido Blade. Has Leigh Alexander done much research into the history of genres? Plenty of games have attempted to simulate injury realistically (and for all her gushing about Braid, it's merely the latest in a line of games that began with Blinx: The Time Sweeper).
I don't like SVG for the same reason I say Eric-Jon Waugh is a poor writer: Alexander doesn't have a depth of reference nor an urge to seek one out. As a result, we get a big long column yearning for a mechanic which has been used in many, many, many games and invalid arguments. If she actually went back through the history of how these things developed she'd have actual things to talk about and be able to give credit where credit is due. It's lousy writing, and she's getting a free pass for it.
And just in case anyone thinks to accuse me of over-generalizing and not going head-to-head with her on specific points, here's a small selection of choice quotes from her blog followed by my incredulous, exasperated replies:
"Hold up. Chaplin wants more emotional maturity, more sophistication, and less adolescence for games -- I do, too. Seriously, let's all maybe read a few more books, guys, let's maybe watch a few more films, let's try to gain some further cultural sophistication."
YES AND THAT'S HOW YOU GAIN "FURTHER CULTURAL SOPHISTICATION". NOT BY LIVING IN THE REAL WORLD, DECIDING, ACTING, EXPERIENCING, FEELING, THINKING -- BUT BY READING BOOKS AND WATCHING FILMS, ALL THE WHILE SCRIBBLING, SCRIBBLING, SCRIBBLING. HEY EVERYONE, LET'S WATCH SOME MORE FUCKIN' MOVIES -- LET'S READ SOME MORE SHITTY BOOKS -- AS IF MOVIES AND BOOKS WERE NOT WHAT'S RESPONSIBLE FOR MAKING US BRAINDEAD IN THE FIRST PLACE.
"Let's try for real sexuality instead of just half-dressed celluloid constructs."
REAL SEXUALITY LOL. LET'S TRY FOR REAL SEXUALITY IN A VIRTUAL WORLD LOL. WHY NOT ALSO TRY FOR A PERPETUAL MOTION MACHINE WHILE YOU ARE AT IT? COLD FUSION WOULD BE NICE TOO.
"Let's try for conflict that goes beyond the splattering headshot."
THERE'S NO CONFLICT THAT GOES "BEYOND THE SPLATTERING HEADSHOT" YOU SSSSSTOOPID FUCKIN' CUNT: THE SPLATTERING HEADSHOT IS THE PINNACLE, THE CULMINATION, THE ULTIMATE EXPRESSION OF THE CONCEPT "CONFLICT" FOR CHRIST'S SAKES.
"Let's look at some more advanced examples of maturity in art than, say Watchmen, which is fine and all, but it ain't literature."
YES YOU DUMB BITCH IT AIN'T LITERATURE -- IT'S A COMIC BOOK FOR FUCK'S SAKES.
(The next one requires a bit of background: It's about a stupid doujin game where you rape girls or whatever. She has written more about it, and in more publications, than everyone else in the world has written about Deus Ex or Civilization:)
"Thanks to everyone who's been participating in the discussion about how we should handle RapeLay."
NEWSFLASH: EARTH TO DUMB BITCH: COPY, COPY, DO YOU READ ME? -- YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BE "HANDLING" ANYTHING. THE GAME IS ON SALE, PEOPLE ARE BUYING IT AND PLAYING IT, JUST AS THEY ARE BUYING AND PLAYING THOUSANDS OF OTHER SUCH GAMES, ALL THE WHILE NO ONE CAN DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT WITHOUT STAGING COUPS ACROSS THE WORLD AND INSTALLING NON-DEMOCRATIC GOVERNMENTS. SO ALL YOU ARE DOING IS FILLING UP THE INTERNET WITH SKULL-NUMBINGLY BORING BABBLING ON A PIECE OF SHOVELWARE THAT BARELY DESERVES TO HAVE A SINGLE LINE WRITTEN ABOUT IT. END OF NEWSFLASH.
"But a dearth of cultural maturity -- and the social maturity that tends to go with that -- is a long, long way away from a lack of manhood."
YES, BECAUSE WE NEED TWO-BIT HOBAGS TO TELL US ABOUT MANHOOD. SHE HAS NOW BECOME AN AUTHORITY NOT ONLY ON VIDYAGEAMS -- BUT ALSO ON MANHOOD. AND I AM AN AUTHORITY ON WOMANHOOD -- JUST WATCH ME MENSTRUATE. AND MY DOG IS AN AUTHORITY ON THE HUMAN CONDITION. WOOF! WOOF!
"I get comments, emails and correspondence with innumerable designers, writers, programmers, artists, producers, marketing folks, whatever you can name -- and to tell you the honest truth, I do not know anyone like the beastly children she described. Certainly, not a one of them would ever look me in the face and call me a "little girl." I'd sock 'em for that."
I WOULD LOOK YOU IN THE FACE AND CALL YOU A FILTHY LITTLE CUNT. AND IF YOU SO MUCH AS ATTEMPTED TO RAISE A HAND AT ME I WOULD FEED IT TO YOU. HOW'S THAT FOR "BEASTLY CHILDREN", EH?
"I was raised in an era of authoritative media, when individual voices drove culture, opinion and information. The internet's changed everything, of course; the authoritative voice has evolved into a conversation between writer and audience, and the writer now leads the community discussion rather than acting as a single determiner, a unilateral judge."
"THE WRITER" LOL. "LEADS THE COMMUNITY DISCUSSION" LOL.
"And it doesn't take a professional writer to lead a community -- many feel that the rise of citizen journalism and the core concept of crowd wisdom means that individual authority in media will eventually disappear altogether."
THE "CORE CONCEPT" LOL. OF "CROWD WISDOM" LOL. "INDIVIDUAL AUTHORITY WILL EVENTUALLY DISAPPEAR ALTOGETHER" LOL. FOLLOW ME EVERYONE -- LET'S JUMP INTO THE GUTTER TOGETHER AND ROLL AROUND IN THE MUD LIKE PIGS.
"To explain it at least in part, let's add one more correlation: the RPG. It's a genre popular for its storytelling, and Back In The Day when we had less genre diversity, it was arguably the only genre that was telling much of a story."
LESS GENRE DIVERSITY! "BACK IN THE DAY" "WE" HAD LESS GENRE DIVERSITY! I GUESS SHE MISSED THE TWO DOZEN GENRES WHICH HAVE ALL BUT DISAPPEARED, WHILE EVERYTHING'S BEEN TURNED INTO IDENTIKIT FPSES OR DEVIL MAY CRY OR NINTENDOGS CLONES.
AND AS FOR RPGS BEING "ARGUABLY THE ONLY GENRE THAT WAS TELLING MUCH OF A STORY": I GUESS SHE MISSED ADVENTURE GAMES: TEXT, GRAPHICAL AND POINT-AND-CLICK, FOR YOUR INFORMATION! BUT THEN AGAIN THAT'S WHAT THE "ARGUABLY" IS FOR -- A HANDY QUALIFIER THAT SHOULD BE INCLUDED IN EVERY STATEMENT SO AS TO PROVIDE AN EASY ESCAPE CLAUSE. FOR EXAMPLE: "I AM ARGUABLY THE RULER OF THE UNIVERSE." "BLACK PEOPLE ARE ARGUABLY INFERIOR." "GAY PEOPLE SHOULD ARGUABLY BE BURNED AT THE STAKE." ET CETERA, ET CETERA, ET CETERA.
And so on and so forth. The bitch is absolutely horrible. I've no doubt that every sentence of hers can be laughed at like this, though I would advise against anyone trying it because at the rate she's scribbling it'd probably be a full-time job to laugh at everything she writes. Why, in the time it took me to skim her blog and pick out these few quotes she's probably scribbled half a magazine.
Also: for those thinking that perhaps maybe she's an exception: think some more. I already mentioned the three sluts on Wired's blog, but those are too far down the hobag scale to be worth quoting. I will however quote Heather Campbell, the slut second-in-command. Take her Street Fighter III: Third Strike review on Action Button:
"I fell in love with Ryu because he's in the best video-game I've ever played. There are better games, but this one is the best."
THERE ARE BETTER GAMES, BUT THIS ONE IS THE BEST. GREAT. THAT WAS A VERY HELPFUL PIECE OF CRITICISM THERE. NOT CONFUSING AT ALL.
"Man, I have seen people play this game like they're inside the damn thing. I'm not talking about exploiting the machine, I'm talking about balanced, nuanced, incredible play. It's subtlety. Think about that. Street Fighter III is so deep it can be subtle."
WHAT IS THERE TO THINK ABOUT YOU TWO-BIT FUCKIN' WHORE? NOT ONLY HAVE YOU NOT ACTUALLY SAID ANYTHING -- THE LAST FUCKING SENTENCE DOESN'T EVEN MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE! THE REST IS VAPID -- THE LAST IS MEANINGLESS.
The entire "review" is like that. At one point she brags about having "probably" been "at one point" the best female SFIII player in the US -- AND I WAS PROBABLY AT ONE POINT THE BEST ONE-LEGGED ALBINO GAY DWARF STREET FIGHTER III PLAYER IN ANTARCTICA! AND I HAVE SEEN PEOPLE PLAY THIS DEEPPITY DEEPPITY DEPTHY DEPTH GAME WITH THE SUBTLE SUBTLETY OF A SUBTLE SUBTLETITIAN. OH JEEZ! I FORGOT TO USE THE WORDS "BALANCED", "NUANCED" AND "POLISHED"! BUT I GUESS THAT'S WHAT THE NEXT THREE PARAGRAPHS IN MY "REVIEW" ARE FOR :)
"Street Fighter III Third Strike: Fight for the Future is the perfect fighting game."
VERY INSIGHTFUL CRITICISM, VERY USEFUL, ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING YOU DO NOT MAKE THE SLIGHTEST EFFORT TO COMPARE IT TO ANY OTHER FIGHTING GAMES IN THE ENTIRE "REVIEW".
My burning question, though, is how did this little cunt manage to become accepted as some sort of an expert fighting game commentator? I recently came across this lollerific discussion between her and another Play Magazine worker drone, on the subject of Blazblue and fighting games in general, in which the drone seems to be under this strange delusion. The editors of Play even pimped the discussion with the words: "We post the full, uncut discussion between Heather and Eric about Blazblue: Calamity Trigger", as if these two retards were people of some consequence, whose learned exchange of profundities was worthy of being posted FULL and UNCUT for their humble readers' benefit. And so I quote:
Eric L. Patterson: So before we get to actually talking about Blazblue, I just have to ask: is it just me, or have we suddenly entered some strange world where fighting games are having this huge resurgence?
Heather Anne Campbell: I think it's because the online community is finally robust enough to support it.
SHE THINKS IT'S BECAUSE THE ONLINE COMMUNITY IS FINALLY ROBBLAH BLAH BLAH. THAT'S WHY JAPANESE ARCADES HAVE BEEN GETTING FLOODED BY FIGHTING GAMES (ONE OF WHICH IS THE PORT OF BLAZBLUE WHICH THEY ARE DISCUSSING) IN THE LAST TWO-THREE YEARS: BECAUSE OF THE AMERICAN ONLINE CONSOLE COMMUNITY -- IN WHICH MOST OF THOSE GAMES ARE NOT EVEN RELEASED. SHE HAS NOT THE SLIGHTEST NOTION OF WHERE THESE GAMES ARE COMING FROM, IN WHAT ENVIRONMENT THEY ARE BEING BORN AND FASHIONED, OR WHAT DEMANDS THEY HAVE BEEN DESIGNED TO SATISFY.
Heather Anne Campbell: The other thing that Street Fighter did successfully was gestures -- what I mean by this is that the moves were a psychological metaphor for what was happening onscreen.
I AM NOT EVEN GOING TO TOUCH THIS.
But what is the point of continuing with this charade? I could rip apart their entire little retarded discussion if I wanted to, and then Google her name and rip methodically apart everything she has ever written -- but to what end? I think one migraine is enough for one day -- whoever doesn't by this point see these vapid sluts for what they are, never will, no matter how many new ones I rip them. I mean I shouldn't even need to say anything -- just compare:
Clare Edgeley: "On the version [of Rastan Saga] I played, there were no instructions and it took about a dozen abortive attempts before I realised that you have to stab the weapon with your sword to pick it up."
Brunette slut: "Ironically, Flower owes its brilliance not to some fantasy that it's reinventing game mechanics, that it's creating absolute belief, that it's video game Zen, or that it's a "video game that's not a video game." In fact, its playability hinges squarely and mundanely on just how gamelike it is, how naked its design principles, and how ancient and obvious are the laws to which it adheres."
Blonde slut: "Man, I have seen people play this game like they're inside the damn thing. I'm not talking about exploiting the machine, I'm talking about balanced, nuanced, incredible play. It's subtlety. Think about that. Street Fighter III is so deep it can be subtle."
Clare Edgeley: "The bad news is that it's difficult to collect the weapons! They are often placed in highly inaccessible spots and it takes several tries to work out the best way to collect them."
Brunette slut: "No sane person would ever suggest that real-world incest is a beautiful thing, to say the least. Nonetheless, Kana: Little Sister to this day remains one of the more sophisticated, complex and emotionally-affecting games I've ever played."
Blonde slut: "But maybe, most of all, Street Fighter III taught us that there weren't enough gamers in the industry to support gaming."
What wonderful insights into the world of gaming these sluts have! A random hentai title remains one of the more sophisticated and complex games the brunette slut has played, whilst the blonde slut tells us that SFIII taught us that -- who woulda thunk it! -- there aren't enough gamers in the industry to support gaming! Thank God there are at least enough to support a bunch of random hobags babbling incoherently about everything and anything whatever!
O Clare, where are you? Why have you deserted us? You are probably busy making someone very happy right now -- I only wish the trollops would also make someone very happy sometime soon: preferably a serial gangrapist/torturer.
But enough of that -- let's take a step back, let's take a look at the wider picture, let's try to put things into perspective, and perhaps by doing so come to realize that there's no reason to get ourselves worked up here. -- At any rate, let us at least try to spare ourselves from further migraines. -- So what if a few parasitic sluts are making a living out of your favorite hobby? It's not as if the rest of our societies were not already infested through and through by loathsome leeches: If porn stars can be elected to parliament (see Italy) why shouldn't a crackwhore be able to make money blowing journ-lol-lists and spewing nonsense about vidyageams? You want democracy? -- there you have it: Suck it up. That's democracy in action, baby -- "Democracy" from Greek dēmos "the people" + -kratia "power, rule" -- the rule of the people, the mass, the mob, the rabble -- and that's what the rabble wants: porn stars in parliament and blonde crackwhores everywhere else.
And you know what else? You want to know when your niche hobby has gained "cultural legitimacy"? -- For this is the question on everyone's lips these days, of all the spiritually stunted men-children of the industry, who won't give it a rest until their little TV toys are placed on the pedestal right next to the Iliad and the Odyssey. So yes, "cultural legitimacy" for your little hobby does not come when you think it does, it comes far sooner -- it comes when vacuous sluts can make a living out of babbling incoherently about it. So if "cultural legitimacy" is what you wanted you should be celebrating -- because you've already got it.
Do you see what I mean? Warhammer and table-top wargames are not mainstream. RPGs are not mainstream. Model kits and RC cars are not mainstream. All these little "niches", all these little worlds, are perfectly circumscribed, perfectly grounded, sober and rational (just pick a publication, any publication that caters to these industries and check this for yourself). -- And that's how you can tell that they are not mainstream. A hobby becomes mainstream when the floodgates open. When the mass joins in and add its voice -- Baudrillard: "It is the masses themselves that put an end to mass culture." -- It becomes mainstream when it becomes a circus. -- When it becomes a zoo. -- When everyone and their dog is entitled to an opinion. -- When everyone and their dog has an opinion. -- Was basketball mainstream before cheerleading? It only became mainstream when they brought in the hoes. This is a recurring theme in Western civilization -- as Fatal 3 eloquently puts it, you've not hit the big time until they bring in tha hoes, baby.
I make niggaz Get Up cuz they know who the realist/They come throe loud, cuz they know they can hear us/They come throe foul, cuz they knoe who tha illest/They come throe wild, cuz they know whut tha deal is/Fatal 3, bring tha hoes wit us/They tha finest/So much ice on a nigga itll blind us/HK3 comin throe in tha 2G/Wit all the ice, bitches, and riches yall niggaz will need
Ultimately the hoes are yet another symptom of decadence in gaming -- just try to imagine what would have happened if a blonde slut had tried to describe the command moves in SFII as a "psychological metaphor" in an early '90s magazine. I can't even say that the entire industry would be laughing at her (and at the magazine), because the fact is that this sort of shit would simply not have been printed. If you went around the globe in, say, '93, and tried to find a magazine that would print "psychological metaphor" when referring to fighting game command moves, you would not have found a single one -- tits or no tits, vag or no vag, blowjob or no blowjob -- no one would have dared print that retarded, infantile bullshit.
And you know what -- my indignation with the drivel these bitches regularly vomit is not even out of respect for videogames. When the blonde crackwhore goes around spewing "psychological metaphors" she is first of all insulting psychology, the Science of psychology, which is even the queen of sciences. She is insulting the entire scientific-medical establishment, all the men and women who have dedicated their lives to this noble pursuit, all of whom -- depending on their temperament -- would either be aghast at her impertinence, or laugh and shake their heads at the state of US education, which allows little two-bit blonde crackwhores to go out into the streets mouthing off about "psychological metaphors" at everything that moves. "Oh Biff, your cock is a psychological metaphor for my ass." -- They shouldn't even teach the word "psychology" to little blonde crackwhores is what they should do. They should keep such words for people with IQs higher than a banana's.
And all of this for what? So that she can show us that she knows two Greek words -- or, to be more precise, that she has heard of these words -- because from the absurd way she is using them it is plain that she does not know them. That's how these hobags think. -- Or, expressed more clearly, that's how they don't think. The hobags do not merely pander to the lowest common denominator, this is what must be emphasized -- they lower it even further. They drag it down to them. This is the key point -- the IGN, 1UP, Eurogamer, etc. retards are merely pandering, they are merely serving the rabble's needs, whilst the hobags grab the rabble and drag it further down.
Well, I could tell a pretty story about that -- I could take this so far you wouldn't even believe. I will not, however -- not right now, at any rate. What I will do now is explain, once and for all, why women are in general so indifferent to videogames, and consequently so much inferior when it comes to critically assessing them (Note for asses: by "videogames" I don't mean Solitaire or crossword puzzles --). The rest of this article might have been a bit of a joke, a small indulgence on my part, but I can't resist slipping in some real substance at the end. This is going to be some heavy shit though, so gather round, sit still and pay close attention, as I will only be explaining it this once.
The solution to the riddle that woman has always been for man is childbirth. The sexes are distinguished by many other minor differences, but this is the most important, the most fundamental one. Thus man's primeval instinct is for war, whilst woman's for childbearing. With this insight in one's mind there's no sexually conditioned problem one cannot solve. The reason, therefore, that men are so easily seduced by virtual worlds whereas women are generally indifferent towards them (and in fact usually fail to even see the point in them), is because man's vital function, war, can be just as easily performed in virtual worlds as in the real one (and in fact even more easily there), whereas woman's vital function, childbirth, cannot be performed in them at all -- thus spoke Zarathustra. -- This is why they have always looked down on videogames with at best a certain toleration, at worst outright contempt, and this is why they cannot ultimately follow where we are going. -- That is all. -- And since I started with Nietzsche, who was an expert on women, who knew all there was to know about them -- all that a man needs to know, at any rate -- I'll end with him as well:
Finally. -- There are many kinds of hemlock, and fate usually finds an opportunity of setting a cup of this poison draught to the lips of the free spirit -- so as to "punish" him, as all the world then says. What will the women around him do then? They will lament and cry out and perhaps disturb the repose of the thinker's sunset hours: as they did in the prison at Athens. "O Criton, do tell someone to take those women away!", Socrates finally said.