When I run around inside World of Warcraft, at the moment in Desolace, that harsh and dreary desert, I start considering what kind of person I would be, if I was this total other. An orc is definitely different, but my tools for giving her a personality are limited by my experience and imagination, and aided by the hints given by the game.
Orc is an abused and driven race. They are small compared to the taurens and trolls and even the undead, and female orcs are smaller still. My idea of an orc is something which has survived magic, slavery, betrayal, harm in all ways possible, and clawed their way back out through sheer intensity and numbers. Survival of the fittest, yet strength by standing together.
When I log in, the background screen has nothing but war across it. Agirra stands against a background of fire, fallen banners and sand dunes. Nothing soft, no shelter, nothing soothing. Blood, fire, heat and sand are the aspects of the orc homeland. I read this background as angry and disturbing, but when I try to see it through the eyes of Agirra, I enjoy it. This is the familiar. Cool water, lush forest, rolling meadows: these are dangerous, treacherous places. Only in battle are the sides clear, only fire lights the day enough for an orc to see clearly.
And so, playing, I slip under her green skin, and start seeing the realm through her eyes. I enjoy the open sands and the hard rock. I fear the forest, and despise the water. I do this to the extent that I even feel the vertigo on her behalf. Walking over bridges and climbing mountains I fear her fall. This is particularly strange as I in real life do not feel such vertigo. I only experience it like this, virtually, as I watch my character run along a mountain path, or perhaps over the bridges in Mulgore or Thousand Needles.
And so there is a strange mingling of my conscious decicions (motionsickness when travelling, mistrust of water and growing green things) and the emotional response to my concern for her. The tension of the game draws me into this, not involuntairy, but perhaps unplanned, response to the game actions.
I am trying to position this in relation to what is written about role playing at the moment. Mostly I see it on the background of my own work: the role play chapters of my thesis. We will see where it leads. If you don't hear from me, look for my bones in Desolace.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Friday, September 09, 2005
Politics, aid and need
Erling asked about a political stance on the New Orleans event. I am definitely not going to declare myself on that, as I know way too little about what was going on. But by way of a quote by Francis, I got to New York times, and their headlines today are clearly critical of the way the crisis was handled. What Erling wanted to hear is definitely being said.
Jet lag and work
This household is perpetually jet-lagged, which is why I get along so well with my NYC connection on these trips. At 5 am this morning we were both up, making breakfast, drinking tea and coffee, planning the day. And so I can blog at 7.30 after a couple of hours of setting everything up for an efficient Friday.
Today I am starting the actual writing of an article about role-play and the other. A lot of the preliminary work on that was lost to the person who now has my computer (and may it crash on you), so I have had to start the outlining all over again. One result of that was that I didn't get the right books with me from Norway. So yesterday was spent book-hunting in used book stores for duplicates of books I have in Volda. I found several at Mercer Street used Books and Records Store, nothing at Strand, despite the 18 miles of books, and the last couple of copies at full price at Barnes and noble. Those I will have to donate to some worthy cause when I get home, like the library. Or perhaps leave them here, for later emergencies.
I also contacted Mary Flanagan, who saves me from more book hunting by letting me borrow a couple of books from her, and so the stack has risen to a comfortable height and I feel confident that I get my references right. There is something so very soothing about first-hand references, and not trusting other people's citations. I make enough errors on my own, thank you.
Nerd-TV
By way of a comment from Thomas, I found Nerd-TV. Isn't this just what we have been waiting for? To have a channel where Douglas Engelbart, Linus Torvalds and Steve Wozniak can answer the intelligent and important questions in life?
I guess I am a nerd, because I love the idea. I just wish there would be more like this: I want nerds of all persuasions to have a channel dedicated to their topic and their gurus.
I guess I am a nerd, because I love the idea. I just wish there would be more like this: I want nerds of all persuasions to have a channel dedicated to their topic and their gurus.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Idyllic Brooklyn
I am slowly learning to neglect what the Americans seems to expect: litter, unkept parks and wasted grass, and focus on the good things of walking in the parks in Bay Ridge. And yesterday I got a solid sunburn on my shoulders from almost three hours of walking from the Verrazano bridge in the direction of Coney Island, and then back along 86th street and dinner shopping. It was wonderful, and even the red angry skin on my shoulders makes me feel good.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Finally, warm
I am in New York, me and the new lap-top and a new camera, it's really warm so I can walk around in a T-shirt and a skirt without getting serious infections, and stress is evaporating in the heat. I have been playing WOW with Jill and Hilde, exploring the power of friends to hunt next to, a social experience as well as a powerful one: the group gives confidence.
Now excuse me, I have to start doing some serious playing, thinking and writing. Back later with examples on how the camera works.
Now excuse me, I have to start doing some serious playing, thinking and writing. Back later with examples on how the camera works.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Life, elsewhere
Planned Obsolescence wonders how people can go on just living as usual shortly after a tragedy like what is happening to New Orleans.
But what to say about Katrina? What can anyone add, which has not already been said? What can be said about a disaster which was telecast before, during and after in such detail? The only thing I can say is that I think it's awful. I wish I had seen New Orleans before this. I feel like another treasure has been wiped off the map of the planet.
But for a person who is worried for her friends and family, my selfish concerns about not being able to experience a certain ambience are pointless. So if I am silent in the face of disaster, awkward and shy, it is because the right words are not mine at all.
That does not mean I don't care. I am reading Barbara Hambly again, the descriptions of coffins floating the the graveyard, the swamp, the colour, the heat and the poverty of a New Orleans which has been totally washed away now. It's the only postscript I can make to a city I never got to experience.
---------------
Update: I am closing the comments on this thread.
But what to say about Katrina? What can anyone add, which has not already been said? What can be said about a disaster which was telecast before, during and after in such detail? The only thing I can say is that I think it's awful. I wish I had seen New Orleans before this. I feel like another treasure has been wiped off the map of the planet.
But for a person who is worried for her friends and family, my selfish concerns about not being able to experience a certain ambience are pointless. So if I am silent in the face of disaster, awkward and shy, it is because the right words are not mine at all.
That does not mean I don't care. I am reading Barbara Hambly again, the descriptions of coffins floating the the graveyard, the swamp, the colour, the heat and the poverty of a New Orleans which has been totally washed away now. It's the only postscript I can make to a city I never got to experience.
---------------
Update: I am closing the comments on this thread.
Low IQ? Female, I presume
OK, so we have smaller brains, and we are more stupid than men.
At least, we score lower on IQ tests than men do.
Nothing to be done, from now on I will have to submit to my superiors, the white western males, despite their lower performance. After all, they have higher IQ, and women are way down there together with males and females of all other ethnicities than western, white males.
For those of you who read Norwegian, read what Drusilla has to say over at Dagens Onde Kvinner. I am glad there are still women who are able to speak their (small) minds after this impeccable research has been revealed.
At least, we score lower on IQ tests than men do.
Nothing to be done, from now on I will have to submit to my superiors, the white western males, despite their lower performance. After all, they have higher IQ, and women are way down there together with males and females of all other ethnicities than western, white males.
For those of you who read Norwegian, read what Drusilla has to say over at Dagens Onde Kvinner. I am glad there are still women who are able to speak their (small) minds after this impeccable research has been revealed.
Counter-culture blogs
I need to find some, and I need it by tomorrow afternoon. They should be political in nature, and represent the voices of people who otherwise would not be heard in the mainstream media.
If you have any suggestions, please leave a comment or send an email.
I will be back and post what I find this afternoon and tomorrow morning, but now I have to run, I give a lecture at 10.15, and I ought to be there.
If you have any suggestions, please leave a comment or send an email.
I will be back and post what I find this afternoon and tomorrow morning, but now I have to run, I give a lecture at 10.15, and I ought to be there.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Four hours
Two lectures
My poor voice needs a rest, and so does my poor head. But instead I am debating with myself if a game like World of Warcraft is a hypertext or a stretchtext.
I think stretchtext. How about you?
My poor voice needs a rest, and so does my poor head. But instead I am debating with myself if a game like World of Warcraft is a hypertext or a stretchtext.
I think stretchtext. How about you?
Monday, August 29, 2005
Spam, blog version
It had to come, the systematic use of blogs as a way to gain attention through non-personal networks.
First we had the commentary spam. It showed up at this blog as well, even if people need a blogger account to post. Here it took on the nature of "I love your blog, have a look at mine".
Then we had (and probably still have) paid blogging and promotional blogging. Commercialisation is inevitable, when a good blogger sees a way to make money doing what they know how to do and like.
Now there's the "high-class blogs" thing. That may be serious, perhaps there is somebody out there who really want to show off good blogs. It looks like spam though - now that I have received the same message in email and in the commentaries. I guess if you manage to generate a lot of traffic through links of the nature "I was asked to submit this to high-class blogs", you get a portal which then efficiently points on to other blogs, no matter what the quality of said blogs is. Flattery works, that's the main lesson of the Nigeria-scam mails.
The next version was through email as well. This was the press manager of an English artist, who is writing the writers of art-themed blogs. I never noticed "art" as a particularly well-promoted feature here, but I guess I have said the word once or twice. They suggested a link exchange, very politely.
While not "squeeze my silicone tits", these suggestions have the flavour of spam - high-class spam perhaps (full sentences, no mention of sex or attempts to sell me viagra or a college diplomas, correct spelling), but still. Or perhaps I am doing people injustice, and this blog is just SO attractive that all these wonderful people are willing to send a lot of formula letters in order to make me notice them.
Yes, that has to be it.
(and steve (read the comments) has proved himself a spammer, and I have deleted his post in my comments. If you get hold of Faltin Karlsen, let him know his blog is being spammed.)
First we had the commentary spam. It showed up at this blog as well, even if people need a blogger account to post. Here it took on the nature of "I love your blog, have a look at mine".
Then we had (and probably still have) paid blogging and promotional blogging. Commercialisation is inevitable, when a good blogger sees a way to make money doing what they know how to do and like.
Now there's the "high-class blogs" thing. That may be serious, perhaps there is somebody out there who really want to show off good blogs. It looks like spam though - now that I have received the same message in email and in the commentaries. I guess if you manage to generate a lot of traffic through links of the nature "I was asked to submit this to high-class blogs", you get a portal which then efficiently points on to other blogs, no matter what the quality of said blogs is. Flattery works, that's the main lesson of the Nigeria-scam mails.
The next version was through email as well. This was the press manager of an English artist, who is writing the writers of art-themed blogs. I never noticed "art" as a particularly well-promoted feature here, but I guess I have said the word once or twice. They suggested a link exchange, very politely.
While not "squeeze my silicone tits", these suggestions have the flavour of spam - high-class spam perhaps (full sentences, no mention of sex or attempts to sell me viagra or a college diplomas, correct spelling), but still. Or perhaps I am doing people injustice, and this blog is just SO attractive that all these wonderful people are willing to send a lot of formula letters in order to make me notice them.
Yes, that has to be it.
(and steve (read the comments) has proved himself a spammer, and I have deleted his post in my comments. If you get hold of Faltin Karlsen, let him know his blog is being spammed.)
I never asked for that!
There's an email in my mailbox, with a link to a page for changing my password. According to blogger I had asked for a new one. I never did. I did change the password though, just because. Used my husband's birthdate instead of my own, so now you have to find that out, whoever you are who asked for the password!
Of course, it may have been something totally innocent, some other Torill who had forgotten her log-in, or a bug, so blogger sent that email to a lot of different people.
And no, I don't really use birthdates for passwords.
Of course, it may have been something totally innocent, some other Torill who had forgotten her log-in, or a bug, so blogger sent that email to a lot of different people.
And no, I don't really use birthdates for passwords.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Battling Addiction
China wants to stop the growing game addiction, which according to Chinese sources has caused at least one death and one real life killing. Dagbladet had an article on this, but you can also read about the Chinese plan to stop game addiction for instance in Financial Times.
The suggestion to start giving penalties to the character after 5 hours is interesting, but how realistic is it that this will work? I'd like to know what the experience is from for instance World of Warcraft where there is already a mild reward/penalty system in. When you log out, preferably at an in, there is a little sign at the experience point bar that starts moving to the right, and the colour of the bar changes from purple to blue. As long as you have a blue bar, you make double hitpoints from slaying beasts. The longer you are offline, the further to the right will the little sign move, and you will make double hitpoints for a longer time - and so boost your levelling speed by not playing.
You can however get the same effect from staying in a city and for instance trading. There is a auction house in Orgrimmar, and it is always packed. Horde players all have to go there in order to buy or sell items. And if you are clever you can buy ingredients, make them into objects and sell these with a profit, while your purple bar turns blue. Then you can go out and kill something again.
I guess the Chinese version of this will be a lot more drastic. I can't say I disagree either: while I don't think playing in itself is dangerous, I definitely think taking good breaks between sessions is healthy.
Unless you're a sane person who can control what she is doing, like me. Now excuse me, I have research to do.
The suggestion to start giving penalties to the character after 5 hours is interesting, but how realistic is it that this will work? I'd like to know what the experience is from for instance World of Warcraft where there is already a mild reward/penalty system in. When you log out, preferably at an in, there is a little sign at the experience point bar that starts moving to the right, and the colour of the bar changes from purple to blue. As long as you have a blue bar, you make double hitpoints from slaying beasts. The longer you are offline, the further to the right will the little sign move, and you will make double hitpoints for a longer time - and so boost your levelling speed by not playing.
You can however get the same effect from staying in a city and for instance trading. There is a auction house in Orgrimmar, and it is always packed. Horde players all have to go there in order to buy or sell items. And if you are clever you can buy ingredients, make them into objects and sell these with a profit, while your purple bar turns blue. Then you can go out and kill something again.
I guess the Chinese version of this will be a lot more drastic. I can't say I disagree either: while I don't think playing in itself is dangerous, I definitely think taking good breaks between sessions is healthy.
Unless you're a sane person who can control what she is doing, like me. Now excuse me, I have research to do.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Election for Dummies
You think it's complicated to decide what to have for dinner? Try to decide which of 7 parties should lead the country for the next four years. If you want to learn more about them, read Oslo Girl's The 2005 Norwegian Elections Guide for Dummies, part 1. Hilarious reading, but sharply observed.
Blogger etiquette
Bloggblogg, a Norwegian meta-blog blog, has some quite interesting discussions. Their latest post questions the blogger's responsibility to the journalist. Should we always wear a "I am blogging this" T-shirt? The links from bloggblogg among others lead to an exchange between Mark Cuban and a New York Times journalist. It turns out that the journalist has written a very different story from the one Mark Cuban thought he participated in. So bloggblogg asks: should the journalist be warned?
Personally, I have no qualms about uncovering bad journalism. I do prefer to do it before the story is printed, so I insist on reading articles before printing. When that's said: there is more to this question.
Friday night I entered a discussion with colleagues Erling Sivertsen and Thomas Lewe. They both asked: "Is it ethical to blog somebody's interaction with you, without their permission?"
As you can see, I think so.
However, there is such a thing as etiquette. We learn what it is OK to share, what definitely should be shared, and when we should keep quiet, and we learn this as children. Not all of us are good at it. Some people are gossipmongers, who are so delighted to have something to share that they do it, no matter how "in confidence" your initial interaction was. You and I both know that we really don't want to talk to those. If they are bloggers, you can expect your darkest secret to be online in no time - if you are lucky, slightly rewritten in an attempt to anonymise you.
Some things should be shared. Since this was a serious question, and taking credit for it would have been unethical, it's more correct of me to give credit where I should: To Erling and Thomas, than to not share that particular piece of interaction.
The only thing that changes in the understanding of what is correct and proper communication, is the number of potential people who might learn what the gossiper says. From perhaps 1000 who will share a juicy piece of gossip in Volda, the same piece may be spread to 70 000 in no time, and be available until the other person deletes the archives. The stakes are higher. But if the original rules were applied, common sense and manners should be enough, even online.
Personally, I have no qualms about uncovering bad journalism. I do prefer to do it before the story is printed, so I insist on reading articles before printing. When that's said: there is more to this question.
Friday night I entered a discussion with colleagues Erling Sivertsen and Thomas Lewe. They both asked: "Is it ethical to blog somebody's interaction with you, without their permission?"
As you can see, I think so.
However, there is such a thing as etiquette. We learn what it is OK to share, what definitely should be shared, and when we should keep quiet, and we learn this as children. Not all of us are good at it. Some people are gossipmongers, who are so delighted to have something to share that they do it, no matter how "in confidence" your initial interaction was. You and I both know that we really don't want to talk to those. If they are bloggers, you can expect your darkest secret to be online in no time - if you are lucky, slightly rewritten in an attempt to anonymise you.
Some things should be shared. Since this was a serious question, and taking credit for it would have been unethical, it's more correct of me to give credit where I should: To Erling and Thomas, than to not share that particular piece of interaction.
The only thing that changes in the understanding of what is correct and proper communication, is the number of potential people who might learn what the gossiper says. From perhaps 1000 who will share a juicy piece of gossip in Volda, the same piece may be spread to 70 000 in no time, and be available until the other person deletes the archives. The stakes are higher. But if the original rules were applied, common sense and manners should be enough, even online.
Tracking
A new laptop is on its way. I can't wait! Lacking the laptop is now leading to physical pain. Saying it was a prothesis was less of a joke and more of a truth than I thought: it let me work with less physical effort, and helped me overcome my back problems.
The technical department, two very nice men who do their best to make sure things work well, sent me a tracking link. I am checking it obsessively.
The technical department, two very nice men who do their best to make sure things work well, sent me a tracking link. I am checking it obsessively.
Monday, August 22, 2005
The wrong path
Did you ever play those "choose your own path" games, and take only the wrong turns? If you came to a crossroad you would consistently choose the path that forced you to go back, lose a lot of what you had gained, and start over?
That is my life at the moment. When I think things can't get gloomier, one more little thing happens, and it's worse. For the first time ever I am actually afraid of flying. I am afraid of doing anything which can make me choose the wrong thing. But inaction can be the wrong choice as well, and staying on the ground might be as spectacularly wrong as flying. I am doomed to continue down the wrong options in the multi-choice story of my life, either way.
Any upsides at the moment?
Well, Agirra is level 30, and I love having the totem of the air and the air spells as part of her repetoir. She can walk on water and see around corners as well. I think I want to become an orc and move to Durotar.
That is my life at the moment. When I think things can't get gloomier, one more little thing happens, and it's worse. For the first time ever I am actually afraid of flying. I am afraid of doing anything which can make me choose the wrong thing. But inaction can be the wrong choice as well, and staying on the ground might be as spectacularly wrong as flying. I am doomed to continue down the wrong options in the multi-choice story of my life, either way.
Any upsides at the moment?
Well, Agirra is level 30, and I love having the totem of the air and the air spells as part of her repetoir. She can walk on water and see around corners as well. I think I want to become an orc and move to Durotar.
Friday, August 19, 2005
State of the Blogosphere
Just a reminder to myself, this is the link to the Technorati "state of the blogosphere" report.
Journalism, blogging and professionalism again
Now that blogs have become popular in Norway, Norwegian newspapers have started writing about it and Norwegian media professors at the universities can talk about it. Professor Martin Eide at the University in Bergen uses weblogs as an example of how "happy amateurs" can challenge journalism. His article is mainly about the need for intelligent, questioning, critical and thinking journalists - since UiB opened their three year journalism education this year.
So why is this important for us? (apart from the fact that this means more competition for Volda)
I think it is very interesting and even significant that weblogs are being used as the threath to make journalists wake up and sharpen their wits. The fear of blogs in the US has caused a massive attack on blogs and bloggers from the media, followed by an attempt to colonize the concept - which we see in Norway today. I have claimed for a long time that this is a strategy to maintain control of the media sphere, and keep the power of communication on a limited number of hands. It this can be done, the media companies don't have to run the risk of the economical challenge good alternatives rise. They also don't need to run the risk of the political implications of having good, critical journalists.
A good, questioning journalist, one who has not been bought, one who has access to a large audience through the mass media, is a powerful person. An uncorruptable person with power is dangerous to the adversaries. Who wants the power of the media in the hands of a person who is not predictable and malleable?
To avoid this, journalists are systematically socialised into "the newsroom spirit", taught to write "the way we do it here", and pressed to publish "what the audience wants". Now that the audience starts writing for themselves, and obviously wants something they don't get from the established newspapers, the new groups of writers has to be if not silenced, then made suspect. But Martin Eide is right. The readers and writers of blogs does not potentially have the power of a really good journalist. The real problem is that the really good journalists are so few, so far between, and most of the time totally immersed in the task of writing stuff that will keep the news selling, and beat the headlines of the competition - in some internal media game of one-upmanship which changes nothing but the numbers on the accounts of their owners.
So why is this important for us? (apart from the fact that this means more competition for Volda)
I think it is very interesting and even significant that weblogs are being used as the threath to make journalists wake up and sharpen their wits. The fear of blogs in the US has caused a massive attack on blogs and bloggers from the media, followed by an attempt to colonize the concept - which we see in Norway today. I have claimed for a long time that this is a strategy to maintain control of the media sphere, and keep the power of communication on a limited number of hands. It this can be done, the media companies don't have to run the risk of the economical challenge good alternatives rise. They also don't need to run the risk of the political implications of having good, critical journalists.
A good, questioning journalist, one who has not been bought, one who has access to a large audience through the mass media, is a powerful person. An uncorruptable person with power is dangerous to the adversaries. Who wants the power of the media in the hands of a person who is not predictable and malleable?
To avoid this, journalists are systematically socialised into "the newsroom spirit", taught to write "the way we do it here", and pressed to publish "what the audience wants". Now that the audience starts writing for themselves, and obviously wants something they don't get from the established newspapers, the new groups of writers has to be if not silenced, then made suspect. But Martin Eide is right. The readers and writers of blogs does not potentially have the power of a really good journalist. The real problem is that the really good journalists are so few, so far between, and most of the time totally immersed in the task of writing stuff that will keep the news selling, and beat the headlines of the competition - in some internal media game of one-upmanship which changes nothing but the numbers on the accounts of their owners.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Me, the expert
When I got a question from the Norwegian Research Council to write an expert assessment of a research project, I was, of course, tremendously flattered. I am still flattered, but not as impressed as I was to begin with. The Research Council has implemented electronic systems for submitting and assessing projects. The system is not impossible to access when you submit something: then it structures the application process quite well. And at that side you are prepared to put in a lot of effort anyway, potentially a well done proposal can mean millions for your research. At the other end, which I was at this time and where you only get 100$ and a chance to put it on your CV (priceless), it's a different story. Of course, I should have checked things out before the last minute, but I have been a little distracted lately, so I didn't. What I found was that:
a) there was no information explaining what I should actually do
b) it was impossible to find the link to the form I needed to fill in
c) when I found the link (after several emails), it didn't work
d) email and contact with human beings to explain things the first time was absolutly a must
Once I had all the right information, it was easy.
Isn't that eternal truth? (And you need to have been a Helva fan to get that connection!)
a) there was no information explaining what I should actually do
b) it was impossible to find the link to the form I needed to fill in
c) when I found the link (after several emails), it didn't work
d) email and contact with human beings to explain things the first time was absolutly a must
Once I had all the right information, it was easy.
Isn't that eternal truth? (And you need to have been a Helva fan to get that connection!)
Play and playfullness
Agirra is still running around in WOW, Mainly in Kalimdor. Her territories of movement and play are slowly expanding, now she is manouvering with a fair amount of expertice in the orc core areas of Durotar and The Barrens, as well as Mulgore, Thousand Needles and Ashenvale, with occasional trip to Booty Bay and Undercity with Silverpine Forest. The game is created to invite this kind of expansion and exploration, but it does not force it.
What I have been looking for in these explorations is however role-play. There is some playing going on when people group for quests and instances, but more often than not it is groupings out of necessity, not play. The conversation tends to be messages like "heal me" "ress please" "g" "n" "yay!" - not a lot of depth to that. A lot of the role-play happens in the clans or guilds, if you are not in a guild, you are isolated. Hence I have been looking for a guild.
The guild I was hoping to get into was The Onyx Ascendancy. I met the guild leader early on, in a lower-level character, and role-played and had fun. Afterwards we kept chatting, and I started looking out for members of the guild, to have a chance to play with them and be recommended. I have not had much luck with that, when I see people from that clan they are always on the way somewhere else, focused on some grand plan or other probably. And there's the lowbie effect: if your character is beyond level 50, you don't really see the ones below 40. And the people I have seen from the Onyx Ascendancy have all been way up there in the level range. The leader mentioned that as well, with a touch of frustration, searching for a clan member to group me with in order to arrange some role-play; it was impossible to find anybody online in my level range.
But there are other guilds, and while I'd have loved to play in the guild of one of the truly nice people I have met on that server, there are plenty other nice folks around. Some of them have a silly streak a mile wide, and can play with it. So when Agirra was magically turned into a pirat wench for an hour (how absurd is that?), it ended up in a fun round of RP and some friendly sparring (because orcs just don't do that to other orcs and expect to get away with it - Agirra had to kick his ass).
I had almost forgotten the frivolity of games, the liberty to be dramatic, flamboyant and playful, in all this theory and research. But that is such an important part of what I like about it, so when Agirra was invited to join "Legion of Darkness", run by two Swedish students, she and I happily jumped in. This is a guild filled with lowbies - Agirra is the second highest level character at present - small, and with no particularly clear plan for what the guild is about yet. But the players I have met have been very accessible, nice and most of all, playful: able to do the kind of improvised mental sparring and leaps of fancy which takes role-play from pompous posing to entertaining interaction. So for a week Agirra is a peon, reporting to the same warrior who made her into a human. We'll see how that works out, indeed we will!
Of other interesting interaction experiments was playing with night elves of the Alliance. Following the motto "your enemy's enemy is your friend", Agirra raided a satyr village in the company of a night elf druid. This was particularly interesting as characters from different factions can't group, can't heal each other and can't even talk. We had to communicate through actions: nods, cheers, bows, as well as the acts of saving and attacking. It worked like a charm. We took turns attacking, and then the other followed up: this way both got experience points, and both had back-up. If one was attacked by several NPC's it was just a matter of jumping into the melee and pulling off as much of the agression as possible. We rested together, protected by Agirra's totems, then attacked when both were at full strength again.
Was this correct role-playing wise? Agirra can defend her actions through the logic of "greater evil". There is greater evil in the world than the Alliance. The corruption of nature, the destruction of the balance, madness, disease - it isn't all caused by the Alliance. And so for two both on the same quest to save the world from corruption and darkness to cooperate across the predefined lines is a matter of sanity and common sense. Perhaps what can one day heal the schisma and bring true peace?
My WOW playing son, a nightelf in his main character, demanded the name of the traitor, to track him down and kill him. Agirra's vision of world peace through cooperation may be long in coming true.
What I have been looking for in these explorations is however role-play. There is some playing going on when people group for quests and instances, but more often than not it is groupings out of necessity, not play. The conversation tends to be messages like "heal me" "ress please" "g" "n" "yay!" - not a lot of depth to that. A lot of the role-play happens in the clans or guilds, if you are not in a guild, you are isolated. Hence I have been looking for a guild.
The guild I was hoping to get into was The Onyx Ascendancy. I met the guild leader early on, in a lower-level character, and role-played and had fun. Afterwards we kept chatting, and I started looking out for members of the guild, to have a chance to play with them and be recommended. I have not had much luck with that, when I see people from that clan they are always on the way somewhere else, focused on some grand plan or other probably. And there's the lowbie effect: if your character is beyond level 50, you don't really see the ones below 40. And the people I have seen from the Onyx Ascendancy have all been way up there in the level range. The leader mentioned that as well, with a touch of frustration, searching for a clan member to group me with in order to arrange some role-play; it was impossible to find anybody online in my level range.
But there are other guilds, and while I'd have loved to play in the guild of one of the truly nice people I have met on that server, there are plenty other nice folks around. Some of them have a silly streak a mile wide, and can play with it. So when Agirra was magically turned into a pirat wench for an hour (how absurd is that?), it ended up in a fun round of RP and some friendly sparring (because orcs just don't do that to other orcs and expect to get away with it - Agirra had to kick his ass).
I had almost forgotten the frivolity of games, the liberty to be dramatic, flamboyant and playful, in all this theory and research. But that is such an important part of what I like about it, so when Agirra was invited to join "Legion of Darkness", run by two Swedish students, she and I happily jumped in. This is a guild filled with lowbies - Agirra is the second highest level character at present - small, and with no particularly clear plan for what the guild is about yet. But the players I have met have been very accessible, nice and most of all, playful: able to do the kind of improvised mental sparring and leaps of fancy which takes role-play from pompous posing to entertaining interaction. So for a week Agirra is a peon, reporting to the same warrior who made her into a human. We'll see how that works out, indeed we will!
Of other interesting interaction experiments was playing with night elves of the Alliance. Following the motto "your enemy's enemy is your friend", Agirra raided a satyr village in the company of a night elf druid. This was particularly interesting as characters from different factions can't group, can't heal each other and can't even talk. We had to communicate through actions: nods, cheers, bows, as well as the acts of saving and attacking. It worked like a charm. We took turns attacking, and then the other followed up: this way both got experience points, and both had back-up. If one was attacked by several NPC's it was just a matter of jumping into the melee and pulling off as much of the agression as possible. We rested together, protected by Agirra's totems, then attacked when both were at full strength again.
Was this correct role-playing wise? Agirra can defend her actions through the logic of "greater evil". There is greater evil in the world than the Alliance. The corruption of nature, the destruction of the balance, madness, disease - it isn't all caused by the Alliance. And so for two both on the same quest to save the world from corruption and darkness to cooperate across the predefined lines is a matter of sanity and common sense. Perhaps what can one day heal the schisma and bring true peace?
My WOW playing son, a nightelf in his main character, demanded the name of the traitor, to track him down and kill him. Agirra's vision of world peace through cooperation may be long in coming true.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Girl teams
Norwegian girl team for Cyberathlete Professional League: Team "Fainted" - From Dagbladet.no
"The boys used to laugh at us" is the headline in the article in Dagbladet. According to Tore Vesterby boys didn't just laugh at female professional counterstrike players. In Dundee he described some of the behaviour a Danish team had to put up with, and the verbal abuse was quite significant. His master's thesis is called "speak softly and carry a big gun" (pdf) - sadly useful and familiar advice for women in all contexts.
"The boys used to laugh at us" is the headline in the article in Dagbladet. According to Tore Vesterby boys didn't just laugh at female professional counterstrike players. In Dundee he described some of the behaviour a Danish team had to put up with, and the verbal abuse was quite significant. His master's thesis is called "speak softly and carry a big gun" (pdf) - sadly useful and familiar advice for women in all contexts.
Day 4 - resignation
The exhileration had left the police force as I visited and signed the statement they needed to continue to press charges. Monday was marked by progress, Tuesday they still hoped to find the missing things, today we all resigned.
He must have had an accomplice, one with a car. Nobody said so, but I fear the accomplice has my computer, the cellphone and the camera.
The department is ordering a new laptop. Nobody can stand to work with me while I am grieving in public, showing up red-eyed to meetings and whimpering every time somebody says the word "computer". And the dean claims he's losing 3000 n kr a day while I am inoperational due to computer-amputation. Getting a new one and getting me working again is cheaper than to wait for somebody to hand over the old one, in his opinion.
So, now I'll leave this subject alone until there is some real news. Other than the news that he probably stole a mini-disc player as well. One is missing, and it was last seen right next to the window he left through. Fun fun fun. At least he didn't see the other expensive music equipment under the sheets and towels left scattered since the last slumber party. And thief-accomplice, if you read this: NO, it's not there any more.
He must have had an accomplice, one with a car. Nobody said so, but I fear the accomplice has my computer, the cellphone and the camera.
The department is ordering a new laptop. Nobody can stand to work with me while I am grieving in public, showing up red-eyed to meetings and whimpering every time somebody says the word "computer". And the dean claims he's losing 3000 n kr a day while I am inoperational due to computer-amputation. Getting a new one and getting me working again is cheaper than to wait for somebody to hand over the old one, in his opinion.
So, now I'll leave this subject alone until there is some real news. Other than the news that he probably stole a mini-disc player as well. One is missing, and it was last seen right next to the window he left through. Fun fun fun. At least he didn't see the other expensive music equipment under the sheets and towels left scattered since the last slumber party. And thief-accomplice, if you read this: NO, it's not there any more.
Day 4 - upset community
It does not take a lot of criminals to upset a small community. One busy thief is quite enough, and this one has been working hard.
First we discovered was that he has been moving bikes around. Volda is having a bike shuffle - he has stole bikes, used them for a short distance, left them behind and moved to something else. Just by where the police found the computer from the boat, he stole a scooter - beating it up severely in order to start it without the key.
With a scooter his range expanded, and it would be possible for him to move more stuff quicker, like a load of wine boxes and fishing poles way up into the hillside. The scooter was found, still running, in another garden as the house owner returned Monday morning. The owner was the daughter of a colleague, a girl who used to be in the same class as my son.
In a small place everything somehow interlinks, what happens to one happens to a whole group of people, and a series of events like this involves not just neighbourhoods, but the whole little town. And as the police officers chasing him are the brothers, sisters, daughters, sons, husbands, fathers, mothers and in other ways related to the people who are the victims, an event like this does not become impersonal or dismissed. My colleague felt that he was dismissed over the scooter, but Monday the officers had been called out the night before to catch the guy, and was running like crazy to find all he had displaced. Volda has a significant amount of gardens for them to search through. And while I can understand my colleague's feeling that the banged up smashed violated scooter had deserved more attention, I can't be angry with the police that it wasn't so high priority. I would, of course, have felt differently if it was my computer they appeared to ignore.
This is a frustrating, unpleasant experience. But it is also a very interesting one, one which shows me new sides of the community and human interaction. See, see all the pain one "griefer" can bring? And there I got to relate this to games as well!
First we discovered was that he has been moving bikes around. Volda is having a bike shuffle - he has stole bikes, used them for a short distance, left them behind and moved to something else. Just by where the police found the computer from the boat, he stole a scooter - beating it up severely in order to start it without the key.
With a scooter his range expanded, and it would be possible for him to move more stuff quicker, like a load of wine boxes and fishing poles way up into the hillside. The scooter was found, still running, in another garden as the house owner returned Monday morning. The owner was the daughter of a colleague, a girl who used to be in the same class as my son.
In a small place everything somehow interlinks, what happens to one happens to a whole group of people, and a series of events like this involves not just neighbourhoods, but the whole little town. And as the police officers chasing him are the brothers, sisters, daughters, sons, husbands, fathers, mothers and in other ways related to the people who are the victims, an event like this does not become impersonal or dismissed. My colleague felt that he was dismissed over the scooter, but Monday the officers had been called out the night before to catch the guy, and was running like crazy to find all he had displaced. Volda has a significant amount of gardens for them to search through. And while I can understand my colleague's feeling that the banged up smashed violated scooter had deserved more attention, I can't be angry with the police that it wasn't so high priority. I would, of course, have felt differently if it was my computer they appeared to ignore.
This is a frustrating, unpleasant experience. But it is also a very interesting one, one which shows me new sides of the community and human interaction. See, see all the pain one "griefer" can bring? And there I got to relate this to games as well!
Day 4 - me, the cyborg
It's all the little things. I didn't have any large stuff which I can't find copies of on the laptop, I think, but there was a lot of small stuff. When I try to work, every five minutes I think: I had something about that - I had a draft for that - I had downloaded an article... and it's on the laptop. Through the day I get constantly reminded of the fact that it isn't here. Normally work is my way to forget unpleasant things, or gaming. Now, even playing WOW, I realise that I have learned all the backbone stuff on the laptop, and the big computer, while having a faster connection and more general OOMPH, just isn't the same thing. And I find myself reaching for the wrong key, and I remember it's not the laptop, and...
Scary
The prothesis metaphor isn't just an image. I am a Cyborg.
Scary
The prothesis metaphor isn't just an image. I am a Cyborg.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Black Company as a game
In Melbourne in 2003, the creators of the game Dragon Realms, which was the main example for my thesis, told me that the "Black Company" books by Glen Cook was an important inspiration. When I read the books I saw what they meant: dystopic, gritty books filled with fantasy, heorics and despair, as well as personalities and hope.
Now more than my heroes, the DR immortals, have seen that the Black Company could be a good source for inspiration for gaming, and there is a Black Company Campaign setting. You can be your own Dungeon Master, and immerse yourself in the wicked world of The Lady. Enjoy!
Now more than my heroes, the DR immortals, have seen that the Black Company could be a good source for inspiration for gaming, and there is a Black Company Campaign setting. You can be your own Dungeon Master, and immerse yourself in the wicked world of The Lady. Enjoy!
Day 3 - morning
It's been raining all night. The newspapers were full of descriptions of what had been going on this weekend. A lot of the what he had stolen has been found. My son had even passed one of his stashes Saturday night, but as it was boxes of wine he and his friends thought it was somebody planning a party in the area and thought nothing more of it. As I called the police this morning to ask if the PC the newspapers mentioned was mine, I told them the boys had passed the stuff. They wanted to know if they had seen somebody nearby, particularly a car. The thief must have had an accomplice in Volda, somebody to help him move that much that far. He couldn't do that on a stolen bike.
The found lap-top was from the cabincruiser he had stolen. My things are still out there, somewhere, hidden in a hurry in a garden, not even the thief knows where. And I keep thinking about things I need to do, then I remember: no, I need my laptop for that, and then I am right back in that mental loop.
The found lap-top was from the cabincruiser he had stolen. My things are still out there, somewhere, hidden in a hurry in a garden, not even the thief knows where. And I keep thinking about things I need to do, then I remember: no, I need my laptop for that, and then I am right back in that mental loop.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Stolen computer day 2
The exitement! I can barely stand it!
OK, updates:
First, we discovered that a cellphone was missing as well, but I have already mentioned that. Then the police rang our doorbell last night returning a bicycle (belonging to a friend of my son) they had retrieved while chasing the thief. Somebody had been seen in the area, running through the gardens, finally stealing a bicycle. Seems like all the police officers in Volda were there last evening, and they were very happy to have hunted him down.
This morning they had no evidence yet that this was the guy. But they had the boat he had arrived in, and it was empty of equipment: television, computer, GPS - lots of different electronic goodies. So he had to have a stash somewhere. I went down after lunch to report the break-in and the stolen stuff, with what documentation I could find. All the police were out looking for the loot, they had searched through our garden and the outhouses of the empty house below ours, but one of the officers in charge came back while we were there, to take my report.
As we were doing that, the phone rang, and the officer had to take it, as he was the one in charge and everybody else were out. The thief had then just confessed to breaking into our house as well. And what was even better, they may know where he stashed it! So now I am optimistic again, after a somewhat gloomy morning. I am just hoping it is somewhere dry. I feel the electronic pain, like it was my own prothesis he had stolen, a slice of my brain, the third eye.
So I didn't finish the formal registration of the break-in, just gave them what information I had to help recognising the items we are missing. I will be back later, when they are done treasure hunting in the hillsides and gardens of Volda, to make certain the formalities of the case are correct.
OK, updates:
First, we discovered that a cellphone was missing as well, but I have already mentioned that. Then the police rang our doorbell last night returning a bicycle (belonging to a friend of my son) they had retrieved while chasing the thief. Somebody had been seen in the area, running through the gardens, finally stealing a bicycle. Seems like all the police officers in Volda were there last evening, and they were very happy to have hunted him down.
This morning they had no evidence yet that this was the guy. But they had the boat he had arrived in, and it was empty of equipment: television, computer, GPS - lots of different electronic goodies. So he had to have a stash somewhere. I went down after lunch to report the break-in and the stolen stuff, with what documentation I could find. All the police were out looking for the loot, they had searched through our garden and the outhouses of the empty house below ours, but one of the officers in charge came back while we were there, to take my report.
As we were doing that, the phone rang, and the officer had to take it, as he was the one in charge and everybody else were out. The thief had then just confessed to breaking into our house as well. And what was even better, they may know where he stashed it! So now I am optimistic again, after a somewhat gloomy morning. I am just hoping it is somewhere dry. I feel the electronic pain, like it was my own prothesis he had stolen, a slice of my brain, the third eye.
So I didn't finish the formal registration of the break-in, just gave them what information I had to help recognising the items we are missing. I will be back later, when they are done treasure hunting in the hillsides and gardens of Volda, to make certain the formalities of the case are correct.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Stolen computer
I am a computer and a camera short today, but have a bike too much.
Somebody left a bike by the garage, went into the garden at the back, climbed in the window in a bedroom, went into the downstairs livingroom, stole my lap-top and digital camera, and left through the living-room window. It happened between 2 and 4 am tonight.
The lap-top was a tundra, bought this winter, the camera a sony cybershot, a gift from a close friend. Both were full of material that is irreplacable, if not of life-and-death importance, and extremely important for my work.
There was no force used, the thefth was most of all marked by coincidence. I hardly ever use the lap-top downstairs, but I did last night. I also left the camera next to it, planning to work more this morning.
I am, of course, distraught. I have called the police, they will show up and fetch the bike. The chance of getting the computer back is small. I don't expect ever to see the camera again. But the computer is of an unusual brand. If somebody tries to sell a tundra in the area around Volda, or suddenly have one, if they have no papers, let the police know about it. There are not that many of them about, I'd think.
It is rather ironic, I have carried the computer with me all over Europe and the US, same with the camera, and it gets stolen in the downstairs living room. Time to become paranoid also when home, I guess.
Somebody left a bike by the garage, went into the garden at the back, climbed in the window in a bedroom, went into the downstairs livingroom, stole my lap-top and digital camera, and left through the living-room window. It happened between 2 and 4 am tonight.
The lap-top was a tundra, bought this winter, the camera a sony cybershot, a gift from a close friend. Both were full of material that is irreplacable, if not of life-and-death importance, and extremely important for my work.
There was no force used, the thefth was most of all marked by coincidence. I hardly ever use the lap-top downstairs, but I did last night. I also left the camera next to it, planning to work more this morning.
I am, of course, distraught. I have called the police, they will show up and fetch the bike. The chance of getting the computer back is small. I don't expect ever to see the camera again. But the computer is of an unusual brand. If somebody tries to sell a tundra in the area around Volda, or suddenly have one, if they have no papers, let the police know about it. There are not that many of them about, I'd think.
It is rather ironic, I have carried the computer with me all over Europe and the US, same with the camera, and it gets stolen in the downstairs living room. Time to become paranoid also when home, I guess.
Friday, August 12, 2005
No, not hopping
Some of you may have noticed that the blog isn't exactly hopping with activity. Well, neither am I. Third week of being sick, at the end of a cure with antibiotics, and getting worse again. Back at work, but with two precious vacation weeks sacrificed to this bug which will not let go, and I am more exhausted than when it all started.
Please, please goddesses, let August warm up, and let the last pills I am chewing kill what is lodged in my sinuses, clotting my thinking.
Until then, excuse the slowness of things.
Please, please goddesses, let August warm up, and let the last pills I am chewing kill what is lodged in my sinuses, clotting my thinking.
Until then, excuse the slowness of things.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Women, computers and games
Women in Games in Dundee is being interesting, exhausting and frustrating, exactly the way a good conference should be. There is a very strong wireless network in the conference area but no way to connect to it, so no chance to blog until this morning, when I have treated myself to some hours of connectedness from the hotel. Dundee is a pretty little town, Scottish in ways I thought only belonged to television series made by BBC, but the hotel is very modern and comfortable. My sore throath was sufficiently healed by Monday that I could speak, but Tuesday I collapsed in the afternoon and just went back to rest. Travel, stress, alchohol and a lack of sleep may not be the perfect medicine.
The conference itself is the kind of eclectic and frustrating mix I have come to expect of media conferences, whether it's "new" or "old" media. You have your sharp analysts, your dedicated students, your artists with no clue but looking for a venue, your powerful professionals, your prestigous names whose mere presence is enough, and the village idiot. Who, of course, in this case is me, so stop guessing right away.
A conference with no tradition and no well-developed discipline behind it will always have moments of "Ooops, am I in the right place?" In this case what is painfully obvious is that Games is still a new "thing". It's easy to know what a book is and means, but a game? Is it a game if it's made on the computer and you can play with it, but it has none of the features of a classically defined game but the limited arena - which, frankly, is unavoidable once you use a computer. While pretty unlimited in some ways, the computer is an arena seperate from the flesh world and can be seen as a playspace in its own right. But it is not automatically a game.
So, I have a bookful of notes, and a couple of interesting business cards, and some nice people I want to meet again, and still half a day of conference to go. Tonight I will be sleeping in Aberdeen, to be close to the airport in the morning, and tomorrow I am home, and it's been real, and fun.
The conference itself is the kind of eclectic and frustrating mix I have come to expect of media conferences, whether it's "new" or "old" media. You have your sharp analysts, your dedicated students, your artists with no clue but looking for a venue, your powerful professionals, your prestigous names whose mere presence is enough, and the village idiot. Who, of course, in this case is me, so stop guessing right away.
A conference with no tradition and no well-developed discipline behind it will always have moments of "Ooops, am I in the right place?" In this case what is painfully obvious is that Games is still a new "thing". It's easy to know what a book is and means, but a game? Is it a game if it's made on the computer and you can play with it, but it has none of the features of a classically defined game but the limited arena - which, frankly, is unavoidable once you use a computer. While pretty unlimited in some ways, the computer is an arena seperate from the flesh world and can be seen as a playspace in its own right. But it is not automatically a game.
So, I have a bookful of notes, and a couple of interesting business cards, and some nice people I want to meet again, and still half a day of conference to go. Tonight I will be sleeping in Aberdeen, to be close to the airport in the morning, and tomorrow I am home, and it's been real, and fun.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Dundee next
Today I am off to Bergen, to prepare for the Women in Games conference with Hilde. I am enthusiastic about the paper, but sadly not yet over the cold that has been taking its toll this summer. But yesterday I finally went to a doctor. He listened to my nonexisting voice, did some of the magic things doctors do to see if you're sick, and wrote a prescription of antibiotics. So by Monday, when our presentation is to be, I expect modern medisine to have worked its wonders. But I think I will have to leave to Hilde to do most of the red wine tasting though - only a little, for my health...
Thursday, July 28, 2005
A first time!
Last night I spent the several hours in a dungeon! Rrrright, I hear the snickering all the way here: "As if that is something new for you..." but I am talking about a dungeon at World of Warcraft, with Agirra. Or perhaps I should say it was a first time for Agirra.
The dungeons are contained areas packed with NPCs and valuable items, and often containing several quests, or it has several quests ending in it. It is too dangerous for one character alone, unless they are a much higher level than the quests are built for, but a good group can make a level and several interesting items. Earlier yesterday I had stumbled into a dungeon, but the company was not particularly experienced and it all got very messy. Entering the Ragefire Chasm was another experience entirely.
Most of the players seemed to be experienced. They had the language down pat, talking about who would "pull" and who would "tank", about "attracting aggro" and about "buff time". The strategy was clear, my job was second healer. The most useful things they expected from me seemed to be healing and resurrection, if somebody died. I'd like to say I had something up my sleeve, but I just stuck to the spells I had found useful. Shaman is a wonderful character for slow old ladies like me. Agirra puts up totems that gives protective magic to everybody, that slows down the attackers and shoots fireballs automatically, and I can take a few seconds to figure out what is going on while the totems protect and kill. Luckily for the group, the totems will protect everybody in the group, not just Agirra.
This was a group who knew about sharing quests, were generous about it, and cared enough to wait until one slow shaman had managed to find just the right quest item before starting. The leader took the time to show me a couple of "instances" - looked cool as she floated through the air, but I have no idea what it was good for. Something to explore. Yes, my field research notebook is getting packed.
Not much roleplay in the dungeon though. As the other players pointed out, stopping to roleplay in a dungeon would get everybody killed. I guess that is realistic anyway, socialising and posturing in a dangerous situation would be very low priority. And it would certainly get me killed. Just typing "n" or "g" when rolling for items was a strain, and I gave up on it. I lost the opportunity for some nice equipment for Agirra, but I had absolutely no idea what I should need, so I just defined everything as "greed" and passed on most rolls. Right, "rolling" is another word I have learned - when a group finds some particularly valuable item while looting the corpses, there's a pair of dice and a picture of the item on the bottom. You can either click the dice or the red sign below, depending if you roll or pass. The Need and Greed system is honour based - if you want the item to sell it, it's greed, if your character can use it, it's need - up to you to make the distinction. That's where I missed out - I don't know what items Agirra needs, so I had no idea what to say, n or g.
But all in all it was very educational, and very interesting. And my first dungeon experience was a lot better than the ones described in Dagbladets spill-blog (in Norwegian).
The dungeons are contained areas packed with NPCs and valuable items, and often containing several quests, or it has several quests ending in it. It is too dangerous for one character alone, unless they are a much higher level than the quests are built for, but a good group can make a level and several interesting items. Earlier yesterday I had stumbled into a dungeon, but the company was not particularly experienced and it all got very messy. Entering the Ragefire Chasm was another experience entirely.
Most of the players seemed to be experienced. They had the language down pat, talking about who would "pull" and who would "tank", about "attracting aggro" and about "buff time". The strategy was clear, my job was second healer. The most useful things they expected from me seemed to be healing and resurrection, if somebody died. I'd like to say I had something up my sleeve, but I just stuck to the spells I had found useful. Shaman is a wonderful character for slow old ladies like me. Agirra puts up totems that gives protective magic to everybody, that slows down the attackers and shoots fireballs automatically, and I can take a few seconds to figure out what is going on while the totems protect and kill. Luckily for the group, the totems will protect everybody in the group, not just Agirra.
This was a group who knew about sharing quests, were generous about it, and cared enough to wait until one slow shaman had managed to find just the right quest item before starting. The leader took the time to show me a couple of "instances" - looked cool as she floated through the air, but I have no idea what it was good for. Something to explore. Yes, my field research notebook is getting packed.
Not much roleplay in the dungeon though. As the other players pointed out, stopping to roleplay in a dungeon would get everybody killed. I guess that is realistic anyway, socialising and posturing in a dangerous situation would be very low priority. And it would certainly get me killed. Just typing "n" or "g" when rolling for items was a strain, and I gave up on it. I lost the opportunity for some nice equipment for Agirra, but I had absolutely no idea what I should need, so I just defined everything as "greed" and passed on most rolls. Right, "rolling" is another word I have learned - when a group finds some particularly valuable item while looting the corpses, there's a pair of dice and a picture of the item on the bottom. You can either click the dice or the red sign below, depending if you roll or pass. The Need and Greed system is honour based - if you want the item to sell it, it's greed, if your character can use it, it's need - up to you to make the distinction. That's where I missed out - I don't know what items Agirra needs, so I had no idea what to say, n or g.
But all in all it was very educational, and very interesting. And my first dungeon experience was a lot better than the ones described in Dagbladets spill-blog (in Norwegian).
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Agirra strives on
I picked up something not-so-fun this weekend, and the cold (yes, COLD, not cool) summer offers exellent opportunity for diseases to spread. As a result today was spent in bed with hankies and a computer. Luckily, Agirra had not picked up any viruses.
She keeps running about in the same area. The quests lead to new quests and to new quests again, and I tend to end up at the Crossroads, a small town in a large desert. It is surrounded by the Razormane tribes, Kolkar kentaurs, lions, striders - huge striding birds, and raptors of different kinds, dinosaur type beasts like velociraptors. I have had 13 quests going at once since I entered that area, and I am just not getting the number down. I seem to attract quests whenever. Or Agirra does. She's the one who needs to make money. I just want levels and roleplay.
I am also getting better at talking to people, and as I am learning to use Agirra's skills, I dare to suggest that we group up for entering dangerous areas or kill those hard-to-kill NPCs. This also leads to role-play, but as I am not yet involved with any of the guilds, the role-play is more personal. And so it gets a distinct flavour of girl-meets-boy and boy-wants-action. I have to decide what Agirra likes or not and preferably try to avoid too much cyberflirting, but really, flirting in the body of a fang-toothed huge raptor-killing orc shaman is kind of fun. I have the habit of hitting ' instead of enter to talk though, a left-over action from the MUDs coming into action when I slip into MUD rp mode.
There are a few things I need to do to understand what is going on before I start comparing to MUDs too much though. I need to get into a guild or clan. I should work on PVP, both defensive and aggressive. I should make at least one more character at a different server, to look for social/cultural differences.
If the summer stays as cold as it is, that may be no problem.
She keeps running about in the same area. The quests lead to new quests and to new quests again, and I tend to end up at the Crossroads, a small town in a large desert. It is surrounded by the Razormane tribes, Kolkar kentaurs, lions, striders - huge striding birds, and raptors of different kinds, dinosaur type beasts like velociraptors. I have had 13 quests going at once since I entered that area, and I am just not getting the number down. I seem to attract quests whenever. Or Agirra does. She's the one who needs to make money. I just want levels and roleplay.
I am also getting better at talking to people, and as I am learning to use Agirra's skills, I dare to suggest that we group up for entering dangerous areas or kill those hard-to-kill NPCs. This also leads to role-play, but as I am not yet involved with any of the guilds, the role-play is more personal. And so it gets a distinct flavour of girl-meets-boy and boy-wants-action. I have to decide what Agirra likes or not and preferably try to avoid too much cyberflirting, but really, flirting in the body of a fang-toothed huge raptor-killing orc shaman is kind of fun. I have the habit of hitting ' instead of enter to talk though, a left-over action from the MUDs coming into action when I slip into MUD rp mode.
There are a few things I need to do to understand what is going on before I start comparing to MUDs too much though. I need to get into a guild or clan. I should work on PVP, both defensive and aggressive. I should make at least one more character at a different server, to look for social/cultural differences.
If the summer stays as cold as it is, that may be no problem.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Blog blog blog blog blog
Have you noticed how repeating a word several times makes it lose all meaning? At the moment the large Norwegian newspapers Aftenposten and VG are doing this to the word blog, trying to become the one to define what a blog is and how it works. Aftenposten claims the weblogs are the headaches of newspapers, VG happily uses "bloggen" as the title of a column in the paper version of their newspaper.
In my humble opinions, both views are narrow-minded, self-serving and aimed mainly at knocking their competition over the head with a new, fancy word. Both have a little bit of right, Aftenposten is right about saying that there is an expertise, competence and reliability in the traditional media institutions which amateur blogs can not maintain. VG is right to say that they are opening up for a dscussion with their journalists through their blog. And so they can keep the headbashing going for as long as they like.
It doesn't matter what they say. Blogs are blogs are blogs, and when the word has lost all meaning through the abuse the established media keep putting it through, blogs will still be written by individuals who are happy with the opportunities the new media give them. The importance of blogs is not the coding, not the technology, not the name, not the style, not the genre, not the relationship to the media, not the content, not the facts they may contain or the fiction they may inspire. The important thing about weblogs is that they give individuals a chance to express themselves in public, turning the individual into a subject in a conversation, not an object in a transaction between media organisations and their advertisers, something outside of national boundaries and unregulatable by the forces that be - commercial, religious or political - or all at once.
Blogs are the people blogging. Define them away from that, and there will simply be a different name for what the bloggers do today.
In my humble opinions, both views are narrow-minded, self-serving and aimed mainly at knocking their competition over the head with a new, fancy word. Both have a little bit of right, Aftenposten is right about saying that there is an expertise, competence and reliability in the traditional media institutions which amateur blogs can not maintain. VG is right to say that they are opening up for a dscussion with their journalists through their blog. And so they can keep the headbashing going for as long as they like.
It doesn't matter what they say. Blogs are blogs are blogs, and when the word has lost all meaning through the abuse the established media keep putting it through, blogs will still be written by individuals who are happy with the opportunities the new media give them. The importance of blogs is not the coding, not the technology, not the name, not the style, not the genre, not the relationship to the media, not the content, not the facts they may contain or the fiction they may inspire. The important thing about weblogs is that they give individuals a chance to express themselves in public, turning the individual into a subject in a conversation, not an object in a transaction between media organisations and their advertisers, something outside of national boundaries and unregulatable by the forces that be - commercial, religious or political - or all at once.
Blogs are the people blogging. Define them away from that, and there will simply be a different name for what the bloggers do today.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
From a leisurely frontier
I have been trudging around this desert for days. My gear is worn out, and I just found myself in the remotest corner of my map, as far as I could get from the man I need to see. I have been staring at sand until I know its digital nuances, and if I am chased by one more hyena, it is one too many. A woman has just so much patience with dieing.
Poor Agirra is fighting her way through the levels. I managed three today, by shere stubbornness and bad summer weather. But I also had the first role-play session on the server, and a conversation which told me something about the limitations of role-play in World of Warcraft - even on RP servers. I am looking for a guild named onyx something, as the troll who hit on my orc girl recommended. No, no physical or virtual hitting on each other ensued, but we did kill a lot of winged harpies and managed to clean out NPCs which would otherwise have murdered us both. I learned to use several new features (I now have a friend on WOW!), and even got to try out some of the skills that I could only use in a party. Are those my skills or Agirra's? I guess I can use the distinction that the skills she learns through training are Agirra's skills, the ones that all share and use for communication and dealing with the logistics of the game are mine. After all, I know how to read a map, but I don't know how to resurrect a corpse - reading maps is my skill, resurrection is hers.
Tomorrow it will still be raining, but I will be packing to go away for a few days again. The daughter is working at a farm by the summer house this summer, the son is voluntairing at the Molde jazz festival, the cat is keeping the girl company and the parents are seriously vacationing in the most comfortable of all vacation spots: our large, comfortable house, with occasional trips to check on the next generation.
Poor Agirra is fighting her way through the levels. I managed three today, by shere stubbornness and bad summer weather. But I also had the first role-play session on the server, and a conversation which told me something about the limitations of role-play in World of Warcraft - even on RP servers. I am looking for a guild named onyx something, as the troll who hit on my orc girl recommended. No, no physical or virtual hitting on each other ensued, but we did kill a lot of winged harpies and managed to clean out NPCs which would otherwise have murdered us both. I learned to use several new features (I now have a friend on WOW!), and even got to try out some of the skills that I could only use in a party. Are those my skills or Agirra's? I guess I can use the distinction that the skills she learns through training are Agirra's skills, the ones that all share and use for communication and dealing with the logistics of the game are mine. After all, I know how to read a map, but I don't know how to resurrect a corpse - reading maps is my skill, resurrection is hers.
Tomorrow it will still be raining, but I will be packing to go away for a few days again. The daughter is working at a farm by the summer house this summer, the son is voluntairing at the Molde jazz festival, the cat is keeping the girl company and the parents are seriously vacationing in the most comfortable of all vacation spots: our large, comfortable house, with occasional trips to check on the next generation.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Hooked again - WOW
Finally, I have time to sit down and explore a new online game. The summer has been erratic, one or two summer days, and then it's back to spring/fall weather. Everything is slow, the farmers are grieving the probably loss of their second harvest of grass, and I am moping and looking at the mess of my garden. I just don't feel like weeding in the rain.
But indoors I am having fun. I am playing World of Warcraft, am a member of the Horde on one of the RP only servers. My orc shaman (named Agirra, in memory of Agirra Lavender - and yes, it's an extremely obscure reference) is still at level 7, and I just logged out to see if there are som quest helps. And yes, I found what I was looking for, and so I can stop running around Orgrimmar like a blind bat. Or - eh - Agirra can stop running. I sit on my butt, with the laptop, in the livingroom, sipping tea and occasionally looking up to check if it's worth it to go out. Most of the time it isn't.
But this discovery has brought back a sensation which was once extremely familiar. I don't want to leave the internet connection. I want to stay here, sipping tea, watching the weather, playing WOW, until I am bored. I fear that may take a while.
But indoors I am having fun. I am playing World of Warcraft, am a member of the Horde on one of the RP only servers. My orc shaman (named Agirra, in memory of Agirra Lavender - and yes, it's an extremely obscure reference) is still at level 7, and I just logged out to see if there are som quest helps. And yes, I found what I was looking for, and so I can stop running around Orgrimmar like a blind bat. Or - eh - Agirra can stop running. I sit on my butt, with the laptop, in the livingroom, sipping tea and occasionally looking up to check if it's worth it to go out. Most of the time it isn't.
But this discovery has brought back a sensation which was once extremely familiar. I don't want to leave the internet connection. I want to stay here, sipping tea, watching the weather, playing WOW, until I am bored. I fear that may take a while.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Forthcoming
It's raining today, so I am able to tear myself away from the garden and the contemplation of strawberries ripening to let you all know about a forthcoming book: Gaming Culture and Social Life, edited by Patrick Williams and Jonas Heide Smith. I have a chapter here, and yes, I am looking forwards to seeing it in the flesh! There is still something so very attractive about publishing on paper, perhaps it's the simple fact that I can hold it in my hands and touch it with more than one sense.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Deeper into summer
I am moving deeper into summer mode, and so I will be harder to reach and more rarely online. When I am around, I will be thinking about strawberries, freshly caught fish, gardening, housework and matters of wonder, pleasure and delight.
Enjoy your respective seasons, where ever you are.
Enjoy your respective seasons, where ever you are.
DAC 2005, cfp
The deadline is August 8th, and here's the CFP
Dear colleagues,
There is still time left to write and submit a paper for the Digital Arts &
Culture 2005 conference!!
Paper submission is August 8th and the conference takes place in December
1st-3rd at the IT University of Copenhagen, Denmark.
The theme of the conference is Digital Experience: Design, Aesthetics &
Practice. Researchers within the humanities, social sciences, human-computer
interaction and computer science studies, as well as those working both
practically and theoretically in newer fields such as digital art, digital
literature, game studies, online communities and new media studies are
encouraged to submit proposals for papers.
Possible topics could be, but are not restricted to:
- the specific nature of digital experiences
- cultural implications of digital experiences
- characterizing the user experience in specific digital environments (i.e.
computer games, online worlds, and ubiquitous computing environments)
- experiencing emotions, affect and trust in digital environments
- emergent formations in digital media
- methodologies for analysing digital experiences
- aesthetic approaches to communication design and experience
- the design and experience of non-informational spaces (digital art,
codework, literature, games etc.)
- design experience documented (case studies and examples of actual design)
Find the full cfp, conference history, accommodation information etc at the
conference website:
http://www.itu.dk/dac2005/index.htm
greetings,
conference chairs
Lisbeth Klastrup & Susana Tosca
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Colours and words
Is your brain withering in the summer heat? Well check here, the colour test and a fun little game of the mind and eye. I have to admit I needed three tries and a zero performance to understand what they were asking for.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Digital Guilt
I just sent off the revised version of an article to an anthology on digital gaming and social life (yay me, I am done!). The process of writing this article was rather frustrating. It has nothing to do with the editors, who have been paragons of patience, but with a little disagreement between the email used by one of the editors and the school spam filter. I don't know what is worse: spam that drowns your important email or spamfilters that just remove them. I did ask the IT department to add the address to the safe ones, but by the next update to the list of contributors, the department had changed spam filters (they have been working really, really hard to find a good solution, and I think they have by now - touch wood!) and off the email went into the big bin.
I tried to supply the editors with a different email address with no such thing, but this only worked for communication directly to me, the email address on the mailing list was never updated. So the last year has been like this: I submit something, hear nothing and assume it's not interesting - they send me an email asking where my contribution is. I send the contribution and hear nothing - they send me an email and ask why I have not submitted my peer review. I get a second copy of that and start working on the peer review - and start to think: hmmm, should I have had a response from somebody else? and ask for it - and there it arrives, in the non-filtered mailbox. Only at this point, somewhat amputated, which I don't discover until it's really late, because before I start working on my own stuff, I have to do the peer review, and, well, there are ten million things I should have done this spring, including taking at least a month sick leave.
Anyway: I have done my best with the time and energy I have available. I can't do more than that. The perfectionist lurking at the back of my brain wants to keep this article around for another 14 days and rewrite it. But no, I can't, there are other tasks lined up which refuse to wait any longer.
So here I am. I should have left for the summer house 90 minutes ago, stopping on the way to shop and cook for my mother. She will just have to eat a late dinner tonight, I hope to make it to the summer house in time to make my daughter an evening meal after her day as a farm labourer, and I am feeling sick with guilt for the neglected family.
And that's basically it: Guilt, lack of time, despair. I just have to learn to use the word "no" without feeling like I have just killed a baby or spit on a coloured person.
I tried to supply the editors with a different email address with no such thing, but this only worked for communication directly to me, the email address on the mailing list was never updated. So the last year has been like this: I submit something, hear nothing and assume it's not interesting - they send me an email asking where my contribution is. I send the contribution and hear nothing - they send me an email and ask why I have not submitted my peer review. I get a second copy of that and start working on the peer review - and start to think: hmmm, should I have had a response from somebody else? and ask for it - and there it arrives, in the non-filtered mailbox. Only at this point, somewhat amputated, which I don't discover until it's really late, because before I start working on my own stuff, I have to do the peer review, and, well, there are ten million things I should have done this spring, including taking at least a month sick leave.
Anyway: I have done my best with the time and energy I have available. I can't do more than that. The perfectionist lurking at the back of my brain wants to keep this article around for another 14 days and rewrite it. But no, I can't, there are other tasks lined up which refuse to wait any longer.
So here I am. I should have left for the summer house 90 minutes ago, stopping on the way to shop and cook for my mother. She will just have to eat a late dinner tonight, I hope to make it to the summer house in time to make my daughter an evening meal after her day as a farm labourer, and I am feeling sick with guilt for the neglected family.
And that's basically it: Guilt, lack of time, despair. I just have to learn to use the word "no" without feeling like I have just killed a baby or spit on a coloured person.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
LOCAL/GLOBAL at Lista fyr
My sister Solfrid lives in a lovely little house way south in Norway, has a state art grant and has spent her life living on, with and for her art: textiles, installations, drawings and paintings. One of the things she does now is exhibit and curate exhibitions at Lista fyr, which is a large lighthouse surrounded by gardens and a bird-watch area and bird resort. This summer the place will again be filled with artists, Norwegian and foreign, a mixture of different media.
And on the list of artists I also found Magnar Åm, a composer of contemporary music. If you happen to be a contemporary music buff, Magnar Åm is famous far beyond the Norwegian borders. But he is also very active locally, and directs both the choir my daughter sings in, and the choir my husband sings in.
Solfrid and Magnar are both very much living examples of the title of the exhibition. They have visions and ideas which reach beyond the small towns they live and work in, but they commit themselves to the community as well as to their international contacts, creating growth, development and making their little spot on the planet a better place to live in for more than themselves.
And if you would like to see an example of their work, the exhibition at Lista is open through July and August. Go there, and enjoy.
Invitation
FOLK-05
LOCAL/GLOBAL
Summer Exhibition at the Lista Lighthouse area, Farsund, Norway arrangend by Lista Lighthouse Gallery July 3rd - September 4th 2005
Art in landscape:
Laura Baird, Canada - Srey Bandol, Cambodia - Regine von Chossy, Germany - Howard McCalebb, USA - Solfrid Olette Mortensen, Norway - Leang Seckon, Cambodia - Alfred Vaagsvold, Norway - Gudrun Westerberg, Sweden - Gao Xiang, China - Tien Yao, China.
Web-performance:
Anne Kathrine Solbakken and RotaMundos: Elisabeth Kristensen, Vibeke Melby, Frode Holgersen, Hector Carranco (N)
Web-support Martin Vindheim.
Architecture:
Bunkeriologi: Alf Waage, Eva Brodtkorb, Jan Gunnar Skjeldsøy (N)
Paintings:
Olaf Karlsen (N) - Kjell Pahr-Iversen (N)
Photography:
Elin Høyland (N) - Mathilde Helene Pettersen (N)
Installations Nordberg Fort:
Marion Frigstad (N) - Solfrid Olette Mortensen (N)
Audio and video-installations:
Magnar Åm and Torill Haugen (N) - Brite Hindal(N). Riksutstillinger and others.
Opening Program Sunday July 3rd at 5 PM (17.00) in Lista Lighthouse
Gallery Garden:
Opening: Kjell Abildsnes, Vest-Agder fylkeskommune, Solfrid Olette Mortensen, artist. Performance: Laura Baird.
Dance: Margrethe Kvalbein, Huang Shan, Chen Jia and Liu Minjia.
Aries: Lorene Spain and Turid Stokke Andreassen.
Cortege: Am Car Club.
Brass band: Borhaug musikkorps.
WELCOME
Galleri Lista fyr
N-4563 Borhaug tel.: (+47) 9518 3518
fax.: (+47) 3839 7405
www.gallerilistafyr.com
Gallery-hours: July daily from 12-5 PM. August and September only
Sundays 2-5 PM. Other visits call tel.: 9518 3518
FOLK-05 is sponsored by: Vest-Agder fylkeskommune, Areopagos, TC/G Nordica, Farsund kommune, Einar Øgrey Farsund as, Sørlandsruta as, Sørlandet Ferdiggress as. Monter Vanse.
And on the list of artists I also found Magnar Åm, a composer of contemporary music. If you happen to be a contemporary music buff, Magnar Åm is famous far beyond the Norwegian borders. But he is also very active locally, and directs both the choir my daughter sings in, and the choir my husband sings in.
Solfrid and Magnar are both very much living examples of the title of the exhibition. They have visions and ideas which reach beyond the small towns they live and work in, but they commit themselves to the community as well as to their international contacts, creating growth, development and making their little spot on the planet a better place to live in for more than themselves.
And if you would like to see an example of their work, the exhibition at Lista is open through July and August. Go there, and enjoy.
Invitation
FOLK-05
LOCAL/GLOBAL
Summer Exhibition at the Lista Lighthouse area, Farsund, Norway arrangend by Lista Lighthouse Gallery July 3rd - September 4th 2005
Art in landscape:
Laura Baird, Canada - Srey Bandol, Cambodia - Regine von Chossy, Germany - Howard McCalebb, USA - Solfrid Olette Mortensen, Norway - Leang Seckon, Cambodia - Alfred Vaagsvold, Norway - Gudrun Westerberg, Sweden - Gao Xiang, China - Tien Yao, China.
Web-performance:
Anne Kathrine Solbakken and RotaMundos: Elisabeth Kristensen, Vibeke Melby, Frode Holgersen, Hector Carranco (N)
Web-support Martin Vindheim.
Architecture:
Bunkeriologi: Alf Waage, Eva Brodtkorb, Jan Gunnar Skjeldsøy (N)
Paintings:
Olaf Karlsen (N) - Kjell Pahr-Iversen (N)
Photography:
Elin Høyland (N) - Mathilde Helene Pettersen (N)
Installations Nordberg Fort:
Marion Frigstad (N) - Solfrid Olette Mortensen (N)
Audio and video-installations:
Magnar Åm and Torill Haugen (N) - Brite Hindal(N). Riksutstillinger and others.
Opening Program Sunday July 3rd at 5 PM (17.00) in Lista Lighthouse
Gallery Garden:
Opening: Kjell Abildsnes, Vest-Agder fylkeskommune, Solfrid Olette Mortensen, artist. Performance: Laura Baird.
Dance: Margrethe Kvalbein, Huang Shan, Chen Jia and Liu Minjia.
Aries: Lorene Spain and Turid Stokke Andreassen.
Cortege: Am Car Club.
Brass band: Borhaug musikkorps.
WELCOME
Galleri Lista fyr
N-4563 Borhaug tel.: (+47) 9518 3518
fax.: (+47) 3839 7405
www.gallerilistafyr.com
Gallery-hours: July daily from 12-5 PM. August and September only
Sundays 2-5 PM. Other visits call tel.: 9518 3518
FOLK-05 is sponsored by: Vest-Agder fylkeskommune, Areopagos, TC/G Nordica, Farsund kommune, Einar Øgrey Farsund as, Sørlandsruta as, Sørlandet Ferdiggress as. Monter Vanse.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Survival on the highway
Sometimes, we're just plain lucky, as Dennis Jerz and his wonderful little family were on father's day. Walking away from a dreadful accident, knowing you and all you love could have been dead, together with potentially scores of strangers, if it had just happened a little before or a little after, is an experience that makes you treasure life. Reading about survival in the weblog of a person so far away drives home how we identify and grow close to the people we communicate with and who are open and willing to communicate with us.
And although Dennis insists on maintaining a meta-level to his experience, and claims his description is a bad essay because he doesn't convey emotion in the writing, I find he does, and strongly. Perhaps you need to enjoy the matter-of-fact style of the sagas to understand what I mean, but look at the things he is focusing on: only a man in shock, reaching for his skill, competence and the safety of his profession will do things like analyse his own narrative of the crash, consider the genre choices of reading for his little daughter while waiting for the ambulance, comment on how he has adjusted the picture to make it more aesthetically pleasing and pointing out that his aesthetic faculties are still working despite the shock. More likely it worked because of the shock, letting him be the strong, capable father until everybody are safe, the emergency is over and it's possible to process emotions without making bad worse.
Which, being a cold Scandinavian who considers being reasonable in the face of chaos as one of the main virtues, I think is an admirable reaction.
And yes, Dennis, I am very, very happy you are all alive and well.
And although Dennis insists on maintaining a meta-level to his experience, and claims his description is a bad essay because he doesn't convey emotion in the writing, I find he does, and strongly. Perhaps you need to enjoy the matter-of-fact style of the sagas to understand what I mean, but look at the things he is focusing on: only a man in shock, reaching for his skill, competence and the safety of his profession will do things like analyse his own narrative of the crash, consider the genre choices of reading for his little daughter while waiting for the ambulance, comment on how he has adjusted the picture to make it more aesthetically pleasing and pointing out that his aesthetic faculties are still working despite the shock. More likely it worked because of the shock, letting him be the strong, capable father until everybody are safe, the emergency is over and it's possible to process emotions without making bad worse.
Which, being a cold Scandinavian who considers being reasonable in the face of chaos as one of the main virtues, I think is an admirable reaction.
And yes, Dennis, I am very, very happy you are all alive and well.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Death in the alley
Outside the hotel in Tromsø, seagulls were crying through the grey, rainy, light night. As I left for the meeting in the morning I passed one standing in a narrow alley, yelling short, penetrating warnings at me. I walked quickly past, but not so quickly I didn't notice the dead chick, a grey ball of feathers on the asphalt next to the large white gull. As I had passed the seagull I was suddenly attacked, something bumping into my head from behind. Turning, I saw the large gull land next to the dead chick.
Later that day, as I returned, the adult gull was still in the alley, still guarding the miserable little corpse. I walked past, quickly, expecting another attack, but nothing happened, only the sharp, painfully penetrating screams from the orange beak. Later that evening, the dead chick and the mother were still there. And as I returned past midnight, the grey rainheavy sky as bright as it had been at midday. Through the night I heard the gulls, complaining, threatening, arguing. The characteristic, short screeches of the gull in the alley were unmistakeable, a very different sort of warning from the calls of the others. As I left, 24 hours after I had encountered that miniature tragedy for the first time, the seagull was still there, guarding the body of its dead chick.
I have no idea why the chick fell. Perhaps the nest was perched at a dangerous spot, and it just dropped out, helped even by a gust of wind. Perhaps another seagull had raided it, and this was the only chick the distraught parent could find. Some cruel human might have cleaned a windowsill of nest materials and chicks, this one falling to the pavement, a rat might have climbed the roofs... the options are many. But some things were obvious. The adult bird was protecting the little dead body. It was in distress. It was not going to abandon its responsibility. Nothing was more important than to protect this little, dead bundle of fluff. No creature was to large to attack in the line of duty.
Do the annoying, noisy, stinking seagulls have feelings? I have no idea. But the little tragedy in that alley in Tromsø managed to make me choose a different route after the first couple of encounters. I don't think out of fear, but perhaps, from some kind of odd respect for what I interpreted as grief and a desperate need to protect your children. Perhaps what I avoided was my own fear of standing like that over my children.
Later that day, as I returned, the adult gull was still in the alley, still guarding the miserable little corpse. I walked past, quickly, expecting another attack, but nothing happened, only the sharp, painfully penetrating screams from the orange beak. Later that evening, the dead chick and the mother were still there. And as I returned past midnight, the grey rainheavy sky as bright as it had been at midday. Through the night I heard the gulls, complaining, threatening, arguing. The characteristic, short screeches of the gull in the alley were unmistakeable, a very different sort of warning from the calls of the others. As I left, 24 hours after I had encountered that miniature tragedy for the first time, the seagull was still there, guarding the body of its dead chick.
I have no idea why the chick fell. Perhaps the nest was perched at a dangerous spot, and it just dropped out, helped even by a gust of wind. Perhaps another seagull had raided it, and this was the only chick the distraught parent could find. Some cruel human might have cleaned a windowsill of nest materials and chicks, this one falling to the pavement, a rat might have climbed the roofs... the options are many. But some things were obvious. The adult bird was protecting the little dead body. It was in distress. It was not going to abandon its responsibility. Nothing was more important than to protect this little, dead bundle of fluff. No creature was to large to attack in the line of duty.
Do the annoying, noisy, stinking seagulls have feelings? I have no idea. But the little tragedy in that alley in Tromsø managed to make me choose a different route after the first couple of encounters. I don't think out of fear, but perhaps, from some kind of odd respect for what I interpreted as grief and a desperate need to protect your children. Perhaps what I avoided was my own fear of standing like that over my children.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Conversation in a dream
I woke up this morning, astonished at what my sleeping mind could come up with. I was with some of my childhood friends. We were a few who played role playing games long before there was a name or a system for it in Norway, dreaming up stories and dramas, and playing them out in the forests around where we lived.
In my dream we were all adults, but still role playing. Only some of the role play had backfired into reality. I no longer remember every detail, lucid and logical though they were, but it involved pern-type firelizards (miniature dragons), familiars, astral bodies and magic children. So I called in some of the people I had played with for a long time, but who had freaked out because they felt it got too real. The logic was: If they felt it was too real, perhaps they had already experienced these situations, and I had just not listened to them.
Turned out they were no good, their "too real" was on the emotional plane. But one of them brought a long a teacher/mentor, who looked like "the fat aging academic male" in all movies where they need some disposable nerd. And I started discussing educational planning with him.
He claimed that the master study they were planning was created after the structure of herd behaviour: by seeing in what sequence students would naturally choose subjects, they would make the path through the courses as easy and natural as possible. I claimed that what he described was supermarket planning, and that true herd/flock behaviour was non-linear, unless the group was spooked and forced to act in the same sequence. I used birds as an example. While they would, when relaxed, spread all over the red currant bushes in the garden, eating, singing, resting, fluttering about looking for something else, the presence of our cat would make them all fly up at the same time.
The argument was that the natural, unhurried pattern of choice for a group of students would be no pattern at all - unless some outside authority or threath spooked them. Which is what we use exams and assessments for - to make them all fly in the same direction to save their grades.
When I woke up, I felt like I had been having an epiphany. I understood why students want to move things around and direct their own progress, and why I have always felt that was important. That is more how the old Norwegian educational system worked, and how it still works to a certain degree if you go for a free bachelor. I also understood the modifying effect of tests, tasks and exams, and the need for these things to have real consequences. Well, not that I want to need to kill and eat students, but the need for apprehension, fear, tension and the possibility of significant loss at the other end of the process was suddenly clear to me.
It was weird. And interesting, as were the metaphors my mind used to tell me those things.
In my dream we were all adults, but still role playing. Only some of the role play had backfired into reality. I no longer remember every detail, lucid and logical though they were, but it involved pern-type firelizards (miniature dragons), familiars, astral bodies and magic children. So I called in some of the people I had played with for a long time, but who had freaked out because they felt it got too real. The logic was: If they felt it was too real, perhaps they had already experienced these situations, and I had just not listened to them.
Turned out they were no good, their "too real" was on the emotional plane. But one of them brought a long a teacher/mentor, who looked like "the fat aging academic male" in all movies where they need some disposable nerd. And I started discussing educational planning with him.
He claimed that the master study they were planning was created after the structure of herd behaviour: by seeing in what sequence students would naturally choose subjects, they would make the path through the courses as easy and natural as possible. I claimed that what he described was supermarket planning, and that true herd/flock behaviour was non-linear, unless the group was spooked and forced to act in the same sequence. I used birds as an example. While they would, when relaxed, spread all over the red currant bushes in the garden, eating, singing, resting, fluttering about looking for something else, the presence of our cat would make them all fly up at the same time.
The argument was that the natural, unhurried pattern of choice for a group of students would be no pattern at all - unless some outside authority or threath spooked them. Which is what we use exams and assessments for - to make them all fly in the same direction to save their grades.
When I woke up, I felt like I had been having an epiphany. I understood why students want to move things around and direct their own progress, and why I have always felt that was important. That is more how the old Norwegian educational system worked, and how it still works to a certain degree if you go for a free bachelor. I also understood the modifying effect of tests, tasks and exams, and the need for these things to have real consequences. Well, not that I want to need to kill and eat students, but the need for apprehension, fear, tension and the possibility of significant loss at the other end of the process was suddenly clear to me.
It was weird. And interesting, as were the metaphors my mind used to tell me those things.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Flashbacks of New York
Business Week has started with blogs for several of their employees. One of those is Michael Mandel, their Chief Economist, with Economics Unbound. Michael was the person I met through IMs, and when I dropped a broad hint that I knew something about blogs, it took him a very short time to figure out who I was, and from there an even shorter time to invite me to visit Business Week at 48th street during the ICA conference - which was taking place at 53rd street, same avenue.
We chatted about Business Week, about newspapers in general, and about the electronic revolution. My brain was elegantly and politely tapped for information, during our walk around their offices with their extravagant view of the city of Manhattan, and even more so during lunch at City Lobster.
I don't know if Michael actually learned anything useful, but I did. I also had it reconfirmed that those people I meet online, who appear to be nothing but words, are frequently nice and always real persons.
We chatted about Business Week, about newspapers in general, and about the electronic revolution. My brain was elegantly and politely tapped for information, during our walk around their offices with their extravagant view of the city of Manhattan, and even more so during lunch at City Lobster.
I don't know if Michael actually learned anything useful, but I did. I also had it reconfirmed that those people I meet online, who appear to be nothing but words, are frequently nice and always real persons.
Siida isn't dead
I have been hiding from my responsibilities towards this project, Siida, a computer game/computer exploration focusing on sami culture and language. Apparently that was appropriate, because the development has been hibernating through winter, like any sensible thing in the northlands. Monday I will be in a meeting in Tromsø, midnight sun and long-not-seen cousins waiting at the other end of a trip as long as from Oslo to Paris. It is going to be a great trip, interesting project, amazing landscape and brilliant and fun people. Look at this: I am actually enthusiastic about something resembling work!
Relief
The long-term reader knows that I have had severe problems with my back. I am now much, much better, so good that I am starting to hurt where the experts expect me to hurt. It's odd, but I am actually grateful for that discomfort. It is a sign that my body has started to register sensations below "please just shoot me like they do horses" level.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
I see a book in my future
Now that it looks like things are falling into place, I dare talk about some parts of my longer term plans.
This spring I had a phone call from, of all things, an editor at a small Norwegian publishing house (yes, that makes it miniscule). She told me she had heard loads of favourable things about me (good beginning), and was I interested in writing a book on computer games for the Norwegian college/university market?
Was I? I was.
But since offers like these don't come with big advances attached, at least not in Norway, to be able to do something like that, I have to incorporate it into the responsibility we have at the college for communicating both our own research and that done elsewhere, and making it available for scholars in Norway, in Norwegian. This is normally done through shorter articles or simple lectures and teaching, but one way to do it can be by writing a text book. So I applied the college for time to do so. I wanted to have 6 weeks this fall to prepare for the book, and the spring term to write the first draft. I have been negotiating the work-load this autumn to get that much time for my own research, and kind of got that into place today. Then I heard that I got the spring term for research and writing.
Step one in the stairway to my big work has been built. In the next year I can walk up on it. Bootstrapping my own thought-processes, as well as my academic publishing, if everything works right.
This spring I had a phone call from, of all things, an editor at a small Norwegian publishing house (yes, that makes it miniscule). She told me she had heard loads of favourable things about me (good beginning), and was I interested in writing a book on computer games for the Norwegian college/university market?
Was I? I was.
But since offers like these don't come with big advances attached, at least not in Norway, to be able to do something like that, I have to incorporate it into the responsibility we have at the college for communicating both our own research and that done elsewhere, and making it available for scholars in Norway, in Norwegian. This is normally done through shorter articles or simple lectures and teaching, but one way to do it can be by writing a text book. So I applied the college for time to do so. I wanted to have 6 weeks this fall to prepare for the book, and the spring term to write the first draft. I have been negotiating the work-load this autumn to get that much time for my own research, and kind of got that into place today. Then I heard that I got the spring term for research and writing.
Step one in the stairway to my big work has been built. In the next year I can walk up on it. Bootstrapping my own thought-processes, as well as my academic publishing, if everything works right.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Autumn plans
The autumn starts settling into place, and it looks like it may be manageable. Teaching and administration is a given, it has to happen to a certain extent. But it looks like I may be able to get back for the 100 hours of comittee work to reorganise the college, and also keep up the plans for 3 weeks of no admin/teaching for all attached to the study, to spend the time writing, reading, doing research or somethign similar sorting under FOU on our lists of tasks. Those three weeks are very important to me, and they have been to others, as if nothing else then it is a good time to take that week of vacation saved up from summer, or just getting a handle on all the overtime that tends to accumulate after a period of intensive teaching and preparing.
So far this is how my fall looks:
August:
Women in Games in Dundee
September:
Norwegian Board of research meeting, Oslo
Time to write, play and plan, New York
October:
State of Play III, New York
Communication Union conference, Ålesund
November:
Volda, Teaching and planning! (wow, a whole month. Something has to come up.)
December:
Digital Arts and Culture, Copenhagen
I guess this should do it. What is not settled yet are things like: do I manage to move the meeting at the board of research a little, to get a longer period in NYC, will I have the cash for the fee at State of Play (the NYC trips do tend to drain the wallet), when is the next Board of Research meeting, will I get the resources needed for the autumn term, thus liberating this much time for me?
----
Update: yes, don't know yet, late enough, yes. :)
So far this is how my fall looks:
August:
Women in Games in Dundee
September:
Norwegian Board of research meeting, Oslo
Time to write, play and plan, New York
October:
State of Play III, New York
Communication Union conference, Ålesund
November:
Volda, Teaching and planning! (wow, a whole month. Something has to come up.)
December:
Digital Arts and Culture, Copenhagen
I guess this should do it. What is not settled yet are things like: do I manage to move the meeting at the board of research a little, to get a longer period in NYC, will I have the cash for the fee at State of Play (the NYC trips do tend to drain the wallet), when is the next Board of Research meeting, will I get the resources needed for the autumn term, thus liberating this much time for me?
----
Update: yes, don't know yet, late enough, yes. :)
Friday, June 17, 2005
Significant and dead
They have found the graves of two women, ritually murdered and buried in positions of significance, in a Maya Indian crypt. The conclusion from this is that they have been politically important, as somebody went to that much trouble to kill them.
Charming, isn't it, to know that women have been sufficiently significant to kill and bury in complicated manners.
By way of forskning.no
Charming, isn't it, to know that women have been sufficiently significant to kill and bury in complicated manners.
By way of forskning.no
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Body, space and distance
Before my own selfabsorbed musings, I want to point to the blog which started them, and an interesting collection of papers and series of pictures from India: Bite Me, the weblog of Ateya Khorakiwala and the subterranean homesick alien. Ateya links to the Sarai Reader from the Sarai Media Labs in Delhi. Ateya's article in this reader is on Negotiating territory.
Going from Volda to New York, one of the intense experiences is that of the crowds. Always packed with people, the city buzzes with human life. It is both fascinating and terrifying, and in the summer heat I avoid other human bodies, no longer wishing to have them close. Is that how simple I am, the desire for humanity ruled by a need for warmth? On the plane back I was freezing, and I found myself edging gently closer to the man next to me. His warmth, radiating from his arm and shoulder was so attractive, I was fantasising about leaning in, cuddling against his side like a cat or a puppy.
How different, this cool place, where summer is defined by a lack of snow and the colour green. There is space around my body, as I walk to work, silence, for long stretches, nothing but the click of my computer. And from this cool, quiet, distant place I read the weblog of an indian woman, an academic, watch her pictures and read her stories, and wonder who I would have been if that was the natural state of my life.
Eva Dahlgren asks the same question:
I wonder occasionally/ if I was born/ elsewhere/ in a different country/ with a different name/ I might have been a brunette/and not particularly tall/ and round/ and my voice was.../yes, it would sound like hell, when I found a tune.
Byt Ateya's world is a different one yet, her everyday further still, from Volda, than even the crowded intensity of New York, and her trainrides are colourful fairytales when read from across the world, a tale of bodies trapped in intimacy or forced apart in ways which make me feel exotic in the cool isolation of the north.
Going from Volda to New York, one of the intense experiences is that of the crowds. Always packed with people, the city buzzes with human life. It is both fascinating and terrifying, and in the summer heat I avoid other human bodies, no longer wishing to have them close. Is that how simple I am, the desire for humanity ruled by a need for warmth? On the plane back I was freezing, and I found myself edging gently closer to the man next to me. His warmth, radiating from his arm and shoulder was so attractive, I was fantasising about leaning in, cuddling against his side like a cat or a puppy.
How different, this cool place, where summer is defined by a lack of snow and the colour green. There is space around my body, as I walk to work, silence, for long stretches, nothing but the click of my computer. And from this cool, quiet, distant place I read the weblog of an indian woman, an academic, watch her pictures and read her stories, and wonder who I would have been if that was the natural state of my life.
Eva Dahlgren asks the same question:
Åh, jag undrar så ibland,
Om jag, blivit född
nån annan stans,
I ett annat land,
med ett annat namn.
Jag kanske va brunett
och inte särskilt lång,
och rund,
och min röst var gäll och dan,
ja, det lät som fan, när jag tog ton.
I wonder occasionally/ if I was born/ elsewhere/ in a different country/ with a different name/ I might have been a brunette/and not particularly tall/ and round/ and my voice was.../yes, it would sound like hell, when I found a tune.
Byt Ateya's world is a different one yet, her everyday further still, from Volda, than even the crowded intensity of New York, and her trainrides are colourful fairytales when read from across the world, a tale of bodies trapped in intimacy or forced apart in ways which make me feel exotic in the cool isolation of the north.
A mommy moment
I try to keep the "kids" out of the blog as much as possible. Well, it is impossible to do so all the time, as they are inspiration and assistance as much as offspring, but you haven't heard me gush with how great they are for a while, hmm?
What I wanted to tell you is how nice it is to have grown children. To be met at the airport by a daughter who happily takes you home from a long trip, chatting about her straight A's for her final exams and her plans for the University next year. She will be leaving me, going off on her own to become another person. The independent adult, not the soft little girl who still crawls into the couch next to me to put her head on my shoulder and check what I am up to.
I wanted to tell you about putting my arms about my little boy, hug him and find my head on his chest, only reaching his cheek if I get up on my toes and stretch. My wonderful cuddly pet, who would wrap his arms about my neck and never want to let go - tonight he is having an improvised barbeque with his friends, the June night at its darkest, and still it's light out, and I am just barely worried that they stay out this long.
I may be getting old. I am certainly maudling. But I have always thought what ever age my children were was the best. I recently decided I really love young adults. There is nothing better than seeing them grow into their potential. Who needs soft marsipan-sweet cheeks and sticky paws when I can have a firm jaw and a strong hand to carry the heavy suitcase or drive the car? Perfect.
What I wanted to tell you is how nice it is to have grown children. To be met at the airport by a daughter who happily takes you home from a long trip, chatting about her straight A's for her final exams and her plans for the University next year. She will be leaving me, going off on her own to become another person. The independent adult, not the soft little girl who still crawls into the couch next to me to put her head on my shoulder and check what I am up to.
I wanted to tell you about putting my arms about my little boy, hug him and find my head on his chest, only reaching his cheek if I get up on my toes and stretch. My wonderful cuddly pet, who would wrap his arms about my neck and never want to let go - tonight he is having an improvised barbeque with his friends, the June night at its darkest, and still it's light out, and I am just barely worried that they stay out this long.
I may be getting old. I am certainly maudling. But I have always thought what ever age my children were was the best. I recently decided I really love young adults. There is nothing better than seeing them grow into their potential. Who needs soft marsipan-sweet cheeks and sticky paws when I can have a firm jaw and a strong hand to carry the heavy suitcase or drive the car? Perfect.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Ethics in Games: Cfp
From Karsten Weber and the e-journal IRIE (International Review of Information Ethics), a call for papers on ethics on electronic games:
The Ethics of E-Games
Call for Papers for Vol. 4 (02/2005)
- Deadline for abstracts: July 30, 2005
- Notification of acceptance to authors: September 15, 2005
- Deadline for full chapters: October 30, 2005
- Publication: December, 2005
Introduction
Computer-based or e-games, in both standalone and networked incarnations
(including “Massive Multiplayer Online Games” or MMOGs), represent one
of the most popular – and an economically profitable – uses of ICTs and
CMC in the contemporary world. Such games not only simulate a range of
human social interactions, from building (perhaps utopian) societies to
historical and fantasy warfare of every age: the games further occasion
and catalyze a range of human interactions that rightly inspire research
from a variety of disciplines and specialties. Especially violent games
(e.g., Quake, Doom, Grand Theft Auto III, and others) have generated
some critical discussion, ranging from “moral panics” in popular media
to social science investigations into possible effects and consequences
of participating in such games. But e-games represent a relatively
neglected subject in Information Ethics. At the same time, however, if
broader discussion of e-games is to include responsible and informed
ethical reflection, much more critical reflection from the various
perspectives of Information Ethics upon the multiple dimensions of
e-games and game-playing is needed. Hence this special issue of IRIE
calls for such critical ethical reflection.
Possible Topics and Questions
1. The Rules – and thus Ethics – of Play
While much has been written about potential psychological and social
consequences of e-games, very little academic research has focused on
the ethics of e-games. The ethical questions and issues here, however,
are many – for example:
A. What ethics – if any – may be expected of gamers (e.g., honesty,
fairness, respect, integrity - see: Code of Ethics
http://investors.egames.com/ethics.asp)?
B. On the contrary, is it ethically justified to suspend such ethical
expectations within specific games (e.g., Grand Theft Auto III) –
precisely because these are “just a game,” i.e., a kind of psychological
and/or social exercise that, like Carneval and other traditional events
that temporarily invert prevailing social norms, may have cathartic
and/or other beneficent effects?
C. Are there ethical norms to be expected of game designers – e.g.,
avoiding designs that intentionally or inadvertently reinforce
questionable (if not dangerous and unethical) stereotypes regarding
gender, ethnic and national identities, etc.? Or is anything justified
as long as it sells in the marketplace?
D. How do different cultures shape and shade these ethical questions and
responses? For example, are concerns with illicit sexuality in games
primarily only an issue for U.S. (puritanical) parents, while European
parents are more concerned about violence, while parents in Asian
countries are concerned about …? Do different cultures understand the
role of games differently – and thus, the ethical questions and ways of
responding to these questions in different ways?
E. Additional questions / issues?
2. Virtue Ethics and Ethics of Care
E-games, especially in their online versions, bring together
participants from around the globe. A specific approach to the ethics of
e-Games invokes virtue ethics – e.g., in Aristotelian and/or Confucian
traditions – to ask the question, what human excellences and potentials
are fostered by our playing such games (e.g., Coleman 2001)?
Contemporary feminist ethics, including an ethics of care (e.g., as
developed by Nel Noddings) would also raise critical questions regarding
what we learn and develop – specifically, what capacities for caring, if
any – as we play such games.
What would such ethical analyses suggest to us regarding contemporary
games? Are these analyses legitimate to use – and/or do they beg several
questions regarding the nature of games, gamers, and game-playing?
[Coleman, Kari. 2001. Android Arete: Toward a Virtue Ethic for
Computational Agents, Ethics and Information Technology, 3 (4): 247-265.]
3. Social Dimensions
The larger social impacts of computing and information technologies are
one set of consequences that are ethically relevant to design and use of
ICTs – and thus are of importance in Information Ethics.
Many negative consequences of game-playing are thematic of both popular
and scholarly literature, e.g., concerns with encouraging violence,
potential addiction, and other anti-social impacts. At the same time,
however, at least some games may be argued to have ethical and social
value as they enhance social and other sorts of skills, serve as an
attractor in e-learning environments, etc.
What can reliable research in fact tell us regarding these impacts –
both positive and negative? And: given the best available research on
these impacts – what ethical conclusions (if any) may be drawn regarding
the production and consumption of e-games?
4. Gender
It is not hard to find examples in especially the more popular e-games
of gender and cultural stereotypes – stereotypes that are ethically
reprehensible insofar as they ideologically justify a range of
inequalities and the violation of basic human rights. If certain games
only work to reinforce prevailing “masculinist” stereotypes regarding
how to be male; and if certain games teach us to see “the Other”
(whether as a female and/or as a member of a cultural/ethnic identity
different from our own) as naturally inferior, the legitimate target of
violence, etc. – then a strong ethical case against such games could be
made. On the other hand, gamers may be perfectly aware that “this is
just a game” – i.e., they may well approach such stereotypes with a
distance and irony that helps diffuse rather than reinforce them.
Moreover, not all games work by presuming such gender and/or cultural
stereotypes. And finally, a growing community of women gamers directly
challenge these stereotypes about games. Are there games and ways of
playing games that help us explore our identities as gendered beings in
positive and fruitful ways, rather than simply playing off and thus
reinforcing stereotypes that may be questionable, if not oppressive? Are
there games and ways of playing games that in fact help us overcome
ethnocentrism and come to see “the Other” in ways that teach us to
respect the irreducible differences that define diverse gender and
cultural identities – perhaps even teach us to communicate more
effectively across these differences?
5. Cultural issues
Starting at least with cinema and tv, modern western cultures encounter
something like an "imaginative revolution" (W. Goebel): not simply
mediated views of the world, but also fantasies and imaginative
extrapolations that 'transgress' given reality can be constructed and
communicated. This changes the lifeworld of people and potentially
revolutionizes culture as the non-thematic background of understanding
and communication. With e-games the imaginative revolutions seems to
have made another leap forward - if not a quantum-leap: imagination now
becomes tangible since it becomes interactive.
These developments pose new ethical questions. To begin with: what do
e-games and the experience given by them mean to the cultural background
of understanding the world, ones own life and each other? Moreover,
especially the immersion offered by e-games seems to enhance the
experiential quality of what they mediate. What does this mean for our
understanding of reality and for the cultural labelling of specific
realities as such?
For example: The game *Medal of Honour: Frontline* offers some
experiences concerning history and war that movies like *Saving Private
Ryan* never could deliver in such a direct and thought-provoking way. On
the other hand most of the *routine* of the game obeys the *normal*
rules of first-person shooters and thus deflects the *horrific truth of
war*. What does this mean for teaching young people history in school
and university? What does it mean for the historical consciousness of a
generation that grew up with e-games of that kind?
As another example: the games *Silent Hill 2* and *Max Payne 2* give
some insight into the psychotic mind (since the protagonists in both
games are psychotic). What does this mean for the cultural *labeling* of
sound vs. psychotic? What are the consequences to prevailing conceptions
of order or - with Foucault - regime of health? Can and should that
process of the imaginative revolution by games thus be ethically
oriented into a certain direction - or do we face a process that may
legitimately alter the cultural setting of certain issues, narratives
(in Lyotard's sense) and legitimations? And if so - who or what may be
able to state and justify the legitimacy of these alterations?
6. None of the Above
We do not imagine that this initial list of suggestions exhausts all
possible topics and approaches to ethical reflection on e-Games. On the
contrary, we encourage interested authors to propose additional
frameworks, questions, ethical and analytical approaches, etc., that
will add to our insight regarding ethics and e-Games.
The Rules of the Game
Potential authors have to provide an extended abstract (max. 1.500
words) until 30. July 2005. The abstract should be written in the mother
tongue of the author. An English translation of this abstract has to be
included, if the chosen language is not English or German. The IRIE will
publish accepted articles (3.000 words or 20.000 letters including
blanks) in German, English, Spanish, French or Portuguese. For further
details see the submission guidelines.
The abstracts will be selected by the guest editors, Dr. Charles Ess and
Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan. Authors will be notified by 15. September 2005.
Deadline for the final article (according to IRIE format guide) is 30.
October 2005. All submissions will be subject to peer review. Therefore
the acceptance of an extended abstract by the members of the editorial
board does not imply the publication of the final text unless the
article passed the peer review.
For more information about the journal see: www.i-r-i-e.net
A list of documents, which potential authors might find useful, can be
requested by e-mail. Members of the ICIE will get a copy of the list via
the ICIE mailing list.
Contact
Please send queries and proposals to guest editors,
Dr. Charles Ess:
Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan:
Download
Call for Papers - Vol. 4 (02/2005): The Ethics of E-Games - Language:
English pdf-fulltext (30 KB,
http://www.i-r-i-e.net/dox/Call%20for%20Papers%20E-Games%20Vol%204.doc)
The Ethics of E-Games
Call for Papers for Vol. 4 (02/2005)
- Deadline for abstracts: July 30, 2005
- Notification of acceptance to authors: September 15, 2005
- Deadline for full chapters: October 30, 2005
- Publication: December, 2005
Introduction
Computer-based or e-games, in both standalone and networked incarnations
(including “Massive Multiplayer Online Games” or MMOGs), represent one
of the most popular – and an economically profitable – uses of ICTs and
CMC in the contemporary world. Such games not only simulate a range of
human social interactions, from building (perhaps utopian) societies to
historical and fantasy warfare of every age: the games further occasion
and catalyze a range of human interactions that rightly inspire research
from a variety of disciplines and specialties. Especially violent games
(e.g., Quake, Doom, Grand Theft Auto III, and others) have generated
some critical discussion, ranging from “moral panics” in popular media
to social science investigations into possible effects and consequences
of participating in such games. But e-games represent a relatively
neglected subject in Information Ethics. At the same time, however, if
broader discussion of e-games is to include responsible and informed
ethical reflection, much more critical reflection from the various
perspectives of Information Ethics upon the multiple dimensions of
e-games and game-playing is needed. Hence this special issue of IRIE
calls for such critical ethical reflection.
Possible Topics and Questions
1. The Rules – and thus Ethics – of Play
While much has been written about potential psychological and social
consequences of e-games, very little academic research has focused on
the ethics of e-games. The ethical questions and issues here, however,
are many – for example:
A. What ethics – if any – may be expected of gamers (e.g., honesty,
fairness, respect, integrity - see: Code of Ethics
http://investors.egames.com/ethics.asp)?
B. On the contrary, is it ethically justified to suspend such ethical
expectations within specific games (e.g., Grand Theft Auto III) –
precisely because these are “just a game,” i.e., a kind of psychological
and/or social exercise that, like Carneval and other traditional events
that temporarily invert prevailing social norms, may have cathartic
and/or other beneficent effects?
C. Are there ethical norms to be expected of game designers – e.g.,
avoiding designs that intentionally or inadvertently reinforce
questionable (if not dangerous and unethical) stereotypes regarding
gender, ethnic and national identities, etc.? Or is anything justified
as long as it sells in the marketplace?
D. How do different cultures shape and shade these ethical questions and
responses? For example, are concerns with illicit sexuality in games
primarily only an issue for U.S. (puritanical) parents, while European
parents are more concerned about violence, while parents in Asian
countries are concerned about …? Do different cultures understand the
role of games differently – and thus, the ethical questions and ways of
responding to these questions in different ways?
E. Additional questions / issues?
2. Virtue Ethics and Ethics of Care
E-games, especially in their online versions, bring together
participants from around the globe. A specific approach to the ethics of
e-Games invokes virtue ethics – e.g., in Aristotelian and/or Confucian
traditions – to ask the question, what human excellences and potentials
are fostered by our playing such games (e.g., Coleman 2001)?
Contemporary feminist ethics, including an ethics of care (e.g., as
developed by Nel Noddings) would also raise critical questions regarding
what we learn and develop – specifically, what capacities for caring, if
any – as we play such games.
What would such ethical analyses suggest to us regarding contemporary
games? Are these analyses legitimate to use – and/or do they beg several
questions regarding the nature of games, gamers, and game-playing?
[Coleman, Kari. 2001. Android Arete: Toward a Virtue Ethic for
Computational Agents, Ethics and Information Technology, 3 (4): 247-265.]
3. Social Dimensions
The larger social impacts of computing and information technologies are
one set of consequences that are ethically relevant to design and use of
ICTs – and thus are of importance in Information Ethics.
Many negative consequences of game-playing are thematic of both popular
and scholarly literature, e.g., concerns with encouraging violence,
potential addiction, and other anti-social impacts. At the same time,
however, at least some games may be argued to have ethical and social
value as they enhance social and other sorts of skills, serve as an
attractor in e-learning environments, etc.
What can reliable research in fact tell us regarding these impacts –
both positive and negative? And: given the best available research on
these impacts – what ethical conclusions (if any) may be drawn regarding
the production and consumption of e-games?
4. Gender
It is not hard to find examples in especially the more popular e-games
of gender and cultural stereotypes – stereotypes that are ethically
reprehensible insofar as they ideologically justify a range of
inequalities and the violation of basic human rights. If certain games
only work to reinforce prevailing “masculinist” stereotypes regarding
how to be male; and if certain games teach us to see “the Other”
(whether as a female and/or as a member of a cultural/ethnic identity
different from our own) as naturally inferior, the legitimate target of
violence, etc. – then a strong ethical case against such games could be
made. On the other hand, gamers may be perfectly aware that “this is
just a game” – i.e., they may well approach such stereotypes with a
distance and irony that helps diffuse rather than reinforce them.
Moreover, not all games work by presuming such gender and/or cultural
stereotypes. And finally, a growing community of women gamers directly
challenge these stereotypes about games. Are there games and ways of
playing games that help us explore our identities as gendered beings in
positive and fruitful ways, rather than simply playing off and thus
reinforcing stereotypes that may be questionable, if not oppressive? Are
there games and ways of playing games that in fact help us overcome
ethnocentrism and come to see “the Other” in ways that teach us to
respect the irreducible differences that define diverse gender and
cultural identities – perhaps even teach us to communicate more
effectively across these differences?
5. Cultural issues
Starting at least with cinema and tv, modern western cultures encounter
something like an "imaginative revolution" (W. Goebel): not simply
mediated views of the world, but also fantasies and imaginative
extrapolations that 'transgress' given reality can be constructed and
communicated. This changes the lifeworld of people and potentially
revolutionizes culture as the non-thematic background of understanding
and communication. With e-games the imaginative revolutions seems to
have made another leap forward - if not a quantum-leap: imagination now
becomes tangible since it becomes interactive.
These developments pose new ethical questions. To begin with: what do
e-games and the experience given by them mean to the cultural background
of understanding the world, ones own life and each other? Moreover,
especially the immersion offered by e-games seems to enhance the
experiential quality of what they mediate. What does this mean for our
understanding of reality and for the cultural labelling of specific
realities as such?
For example: The game *Medal of Honour: Frontline* offers some
experiences concerning history and war that movies like *Saving Private
Ryan* never could deliver in such a direct and thought-provoking way. On
the other hand most of the *routine* of the game obeys the *normal*
rules of first-person shooters and thus deflects the *horrific truth of
war*. What does this mean for teaching young people history in school
and university? What does it mean for the historical consciousness of a
generation that grew up with e-games of that kind?
As another example: the games *Silent Hill 2* and *Max Payne 2* give
some insight into the psychotic mind (since the protagonists in both
games are psychotic). What does this mean for the cultural *labeling* of
sound vs. psychotic? What are the consequences to prevailing conceptions
of order or - with Foucault - regime of health? Can and should that
process of the imaginative revolution by games thus be ethically
oriented into a certain direction - or do we face a process that may
legitimately alter the cultural setting of certain issues, narratives
(in Lyotard's sense) and legitimations? And if so - who or what may be
able to state and justify the legitimacy of these alterations?
6. None of the Above
We do not imagine that this initial list of suggestions exhausts all
possible topics and approaches to ethical reflection on e-Games. On the
contrary, we encourage interested authors to propose additional
frameworks, questions, ethical and analytical approaches, etc., that
will add to our insight regarding ethics and e-Games.
The Rules of the Game
Potential authors have to provide an extended abstract (max. 1.500
words) until 30. July 2005. The abstract should be written in the mother
tongue of the author. An English translation of this abstract has to be
included, if the chosen language is not English or German. The IRIE will
publish accepted articles (3.000 words or 20.000 letters including
blanks) in German, English, Spanish, French or Portuguese. For further
details see the submission guidelines.
The abstracts will be selected by the guest editors, Dr. Charles Ess and
Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan. Authors will be notified by 15. September 2005.
Deadline for the final article (according to IRIE format guide) is 30.
October 2005. All submissions will be subject to peer review. Therefore
the acceptance of an extended abstract by the members of the editorial
board does not imply the publication of the final text unless the
article passed the peer review.
For more information about the journal see: www.i-r-i-e.net
A list of documents, which potential authors might find useful, can be
requested by e-mail. Members of the ICIE will get a copy of the list via
the ICIE mailing list.
Contact
Please send queries and proposals to guest editors,
Dr. Charles Ess:
Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan:
Download
Call for Papers - Vol. 4 (02/2005): The Ethics of E-Games - Language:
English pdf-fulltext (30 KB,
http://www.i-r-i-e.net/dox/Call%20for%20Papers%20E-Games%20Vol%204.doc)
Friday, June 10, 2005
Breathing
Not entirely out of touch with work, I did get an internet connection even as far east as it was possible to come on Long Island, but I restrained myself to short days and select tasks. So I had time to find a new friend, and do some of the important things in life.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
For my students
I am in the United States, and my students are having their last exam at the information study back in Volda. We have known each other for 2-3 years, and I know I will miss them when they have left, so this is the speech I should have held at the party tonight, starting right now.
Kjære alle sammen
Informasjonsutdanninga har vært min baby siden sommeren 1991, når jeg tok jobben i Volda. "Du blir informasjonsutdanningas mamma'" sa en god venn profetisk, og på mange måter har det vært sånn. Men det har ikke alltid vært enkelt. Det har vært kamper mot systemet, for å få drive utdanninga slik vi som jobbet med den mente var riktig, det har vært trefninger med studentene på grunn av alt fra ytre ting vi ikke kunne gjøre noe med, via ulike forventninger, til både min og studentenes manglende vilje og evne til å kompromisse. Det har slett ikke vært glatt, uproblematisk og likegyldig, for noen av oss.
Dette er kanskje det viktigste ved informasjonsutdanninga for meg. Den har aldri vært likegyldig. Vi forsøker å lære dere alt vi kan om kommunikasjon, om målgrupper, om metoder og teknikker, vi forsøker å gi dere alle redskaper vi kan til å klare dere der ute, men samtidig drømmer jeg om å kunne gi fra meg en liten ting, en ting som er viktigere enn alt annet, og som jeg vil at dere skal kunne når dere drar herfra.
Jeg vil at dere skal kunne stille spørsmål.
Samfunnet vi lever i er organisk og alltid i forandring. Når jeg tok hovedfag i Bergen, var Internettet noe vi måtte tigge oss til tid i høyteknologisenteret for å oppleve. Det året Palme ble myrdet tok jeg grunnfageksamen i medievitenskap, med Ketil Halse som sensor, og det gikk ikke så bra. Men jeg husket noen få viktige ting, for eksempel at Bergens Tidende kom ut i seks ulike eksemplar den dagen. Hvilke aviser trykker seks opplag på en dag nå? De legger ut oppdateringene på nettet, og jobber heller med det tunge stoffet til neste dags avis. I dag foreslo jeg å møte dere ansikt til ansikt på nettet, i stedet skriver jeg til dere på bloggen min. Den hadde jeg heller aldri drømt om den sommeren i 1991 når jeg dro fra mann og barn i Bergen for å begynne i ny jobb på et nytt og skremmende sted, sammen med det mest skremmende av alt - studenter. Alt jeg hadde å stille opp med var noen års utdanning og et intenst ønske om å kunne lære og å kunne gi.
I informasjon hører disse to tingene sammen. For å kunne kommunisere må du sette deg selv til side og se den du skal nå fram til, ellers snakker du bare til et speil. Du kommer ikke særlig langt ved å fortelle hva du vet, du må lete etter det den andre trenger å vite - du må åpne deg for den andre og se og lære. Men hvordan skal jeg kunne se et helt kull om gangen, og tre kull parallelt? Jeg lærte det de første årene, det var bare en måte å gjøre det på, og det var å bli glad i menneskene jeg sto ovenfor. Og jeg gjorde det, ble glad i studentene mine, lo og gråt med dem, danset av glede over gode karakterer, og sloss for rom, ressurser og muligheter i alle sammenhenger hvor jeg kunne.
Men studentene reiser fra meg, bare oppgavene blir igjen.
Det er mange år siden jeg lærte at jeg har et alt for sårbart hjerte til å kunne by det fram til dere alle hele tiden. Jeg må kunne si nei, jeg må holde meg til reglene, der er troll og monstre jeg ikke kan drepe for dere, der er juv dere selv må finne en måte å krysse. Men en gang i året kan jeg ta det fram, dette som gjør det meningsfullt å fortsette å undervise til tross for reformer, konflikter, dager som aldri blir lange nok og oppgaver som gjentas og gjentas i det uendelige, like steinen til Sisyphus, når den ruller tilbake ned bakken.
Sannheten er at jeg blir glad studentene mine, hver eneste en. Jeg kommer til å fortrenge dere litt etter hvert. Når dere ringer om 10 år kan det hende dere må minne meg om hvem dere er. Men akkurat nå, når dere skal pakke sammen og dra, kjenner jeg det. Det blir tomt i Volda uten dere.
Dere går selvsagt ut i verden uten å se dere tilbake. Det er både godt og riktig, dere skal det, verden ligger åpen foran dere, som den lå foran meg når jeg dro fra Bergen til Volda for å gjøre og bli noe jeg aldri hadde ventet. Og når jeg ser dere igjen, på fjernsynet, som praksisveiledere i en bedrift eller etat, som deltakere på en konferanse, voksne, kompetente, dyktige utøvere av det dere har valgt, så er jeg stolt og lykkelig over å ha fått gi dere noe med på veien fram dit.
Men husk at dere ikke har gått tre år i Volda uten å sette spor. Takk for at dere var her, mine studenter, og ga deres tid og nysgjerrighet.
Lykke til.
Kjære alle sammen
Informasjonsutdanninga har vært min baby siden sommeren 1991, når jeg tok jobben i Volda. "Du blir informasjonsutdanningas mamma'" sa en god venn profetisk, og på mange måter har det vært sånn. Men det har ikke alltid vært enkelt. Det har vært kamper mot systemet, for å få drive utdanninga slik vi som jobbet med den mente var riktig, det har vært trefninger med studentene på grunn av alt fra ytre ting vi ikke kunne gjøre noe med, via ulike forventninger, til både min og studentenes manglende vilje og evne til å kompromisse. Det har slett ikke vært glatt, uproblematisk og likegyldig, for noen av oss.
Dette er kanskje det viktigste ved informasjonsutdanninga for meg. Den har aldri vært likegyldig. Vi forsøker å lære dere alt vi kan om kommunikasjon, om målgrupper, om metoder og teknikker, vi forsøker å gi dere alle redskaper vi kan til å klare dere der ute, men samtidig drømmer jeg om å kunne gi fra meg en liten ting, en ting som er viktigere enn alt annet, og som jeg vil at dere skal kunne når dere drar herfra.
Jeg vil at dere skal kunne stille spørsmål.
Samfunnet vi lever i er organisk og alltid i forandring. Når jeg tok hovedfag i Bergen, var Internettet noe vi måtte tigge oss til tid i høyteknologisenteret for å oppleve. Det året Palme ble myrdet tok jeg grunnfageksamen i medievitenskap, med Ketil Halse som sensor, og det gikk ikke så bra. Men jeg husket noen få viktige ting, for eksempel at Bergens Tidende kom ut i seks ulike eksemplar den dagen. Hvilke aviser trykker seks opplag på en dag nå? De legger ut oppdateringene på nettet, og jobber heller med det tunge stoffet til neste dags avis. I dag foreslo jeg å møte dere ansikt til ansikt på nettet, i stedet skriver jeg til dere på bloggen min. Den hadde jeg heller aldri drømt om den sommeren i 1991 når jeg dro fra mann og barn i Bergen for å begynne i ny jobb på et nytt og skremmende sted, sammen med det mest skremmende av alt - studenter. Alt jeg hadde å stille opp med var noen års utdanning og et intenst ønske om å kunne lære og å kunne gi.
I informasjon hører disse to tingene sammen. For å kunne kommunisere må du sette deg selv til side og se den du skal nå fram til, ellers snakker du bare til et speil. Du kommer ikke særlig langt ved å fortelle hva du vet, du må lete etter det den andre trenger å vite - du må åpne deg for den andre og se og lære. Men hvordan skal jeg kunne se et helt kull om gangen, og tre kull parallelt? Jeg lærte det de første årene, det var bare en måte å gjøre det på, og det var å bli glad i menneskene jeg sto ovenfor. Og jeg gjorde det, ble glad i studentene mine, lo og gråt med dem, danset av glede over gode karakterer, og sloss for rom, ressurser og muligheter i alle sammenhenger hvor jeg kunne.
Men studentene reiser fra meg, bare oppgavene blir igjen.
Det er mange år siden jeg lærte at jeg har et alt for sårbart hjerte til å kunne by det fram til dere alle hele tiden. Jeg må kunne si nei, jeg må holde meg til reglene, der er troll og monstre jeg ikke kan drepe for dere, der er juv dere selv må finne en måte å krysse. Men en gang i året kan jeg ta det fram, dette som gjør det meningsfullt å fortsette å undervise til tross for reformer, konflikter, dager som aldri blir lange nok og oppgaver som gjentas og gjentas i det uendelige, like steinen til Sisyphus, når den ruller tilbake ned bakken.
Sannheten er at jeg blir glad studentene mine, hver eneste en. Jeg kommer til å fortrenge dere litt etter hvert. Når dere ringer om 10 år kan det hende dere må minne meg om hvem dere er. Men akkurat nå, når dere skal pakke sammen og dra, kjenner jeg det. Det blir tomt i Volda uten dere.
Dere går selvsagt ut i verden uten å se dere tilbake. Det er både godt og riktig, dere skal det, verden ligger åpen foran dere, som den lå foran meg når jeg dro fra Bergen til Volda for å gjøre og bli noe jeg aldri hadde ventet. Og når jeg ser dere igjen, på fjernsynet, som praksisveiledere i en bedrift eller etat, som deltakere på en konferanse, voksne, kompetente, dyktige utøvere av det dere har valgt, så er jeg stolt og lykkelig over å ha fått gi dere noe med på veien fram dit.
Men husk at dere ikke har gått tre år i Volda uten å sette spor. Takk for at dere var her, mine studenter, og ga deres tid og nysgjerrighet.
Lykke til.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Women in Neverwinter
I just sent away the last version I will be poking at of a paper Hilde and I have been writing for the Women in Games conference in Dundee. It was not exactly smooth sailing, but we did it, the paper is done and I can start looking for tickets!
Friday, June 03, 2005
The taste of tears
Do you ever spend days, when you cry for no reason at all? This spring has been so cold, so late, so cruel and so fraught with conflict, filled with work conflicting with work, responsibilities I cannot fulfil and loved ones I cannot be everything for. It has all hit me this week, when I was supposed to be away from it all and on top of it all. And so I have watched the screen blur, and I have had no idea why, why can't I just write, why can't I just do, why can't I just act?
I am far away from most of it, and as the load lightens, there is space for my despair to peek through the cracks again. But I have this tube of superglue, and as I write I am repairing myself, tightening it all up and wiping the tears away. It's just salt water anyway, and soon I will have finished one more thing on my list, and then one more and then one more until I can start breathing again.
This is pathetic, isn't it? Well, sometimes, I am pretty pathetic. I'll be back to being professional and professorial later.
I am far away from most of it, and as the load lightens, there is space for my despair to peek through the cracks again. But I have this tube of superglue, and as I write I am repairing myself, tightening it all up and wiping the tears away. It's just salt water anyway, and soon I will have finished one more thing on my list, and then one more and then one more until I can start breathing again.
This is pathetic, isn't it? Well, sometimes, I am pretty pathetic. I'll be back to being professional and professorial later.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
I wish I could afford a new car
Preferably a Jaguar.
I had never thought I'd want to buy a Ford out of principle, but if the Christian Extremists are going after them for supporting gay and lesbian activists, it's almost enough to make me wish my trusty Opel into a Ford.
I had never thought I'd want to buy a Ford out of principle, but if the Christian Extremists are going after them for supporting gay and lesbian activists, it's almost enough to make me wish my trusty Opel into a Ford.
The Big Brass
I just got contacted on AIM by somebody who wanted me to be part of The Big Brass Alliance. That is rather flattering, although I am a little paranoid about people suddenly sending me messages out of the blue. So, rule one if contacting me on AIM, approach like a human being, or I think you are spam and block you immediately.
However, as there was not a word about sex in the messages, I checked out the links he sent me. While I don't think I want to be on the list with the big brass - I am after all not that involved with US politics - I do want to pass these links on to any of my readers who might be.
The Big Brass Alliance is a group of bloggers who support After Downing Street, "a coalition of veterans' groups, peace groups, and political activist groups formed to urge that the U.S. Congress launch a formal investigation into whether President Bush has committed impeachable offenses in connection with the Iraq war."
I was also sent a link to a site describing The Downing Street Memo, which is supposed to contain the minutes from a meeting in 2002, where Tony Blair in a meeting with his ministers agree that the intelligence out of Iraq was fixed. After Downing Street want to see more discussion of this news in US media, and hope that by planting it in blogs, they will.
This is interesting at several levels. First, I find it interesting that this piece of news is not being discussed in US media. I am however not entirely shocked, after the President's comments about Amnesty International's report about Human Rights in the USA. BitchPhD as usual says what they (Pseudonymous Rocket Scientist in this case) mean about this much more informed than I can.
Second: that when somebody wants to plant a piece of news in the media, they turn to viral marketing, plant it in blogs, and the blogs will spread the word. And it works. I am writing about it.
So, while I don't think I am Big Brass, I am going to watch this. I hope it will be good.
However, as there was not a word about sex in the messages, I checked out the links he sent me. While I don't think I want to be on the list with the big brass - I am after all not that involved with US politics - I do want to pass these links on to any of my readers who might be.
The Big Brass Alliance is a group of bloggers who support After Downing Street, "a coalition of veterans' groups, peace groups, and political activist groups formed to urge that the U.S. Congress launch a formal investigation into whether President Bush has committed impeachable offenses in connection with the Iraq war."
I was also sent a link to a site describing The Downing Street Memo, which is supposed to contain the minutes from a meeting in 2002, where Tony Blair in a meeting with his ministers agree that the intelligence out of Iraq was fixed. After Downing Street want to see more discussion of this news in US media, and hope that by planting it in blogs, they will.
This is interesting at several levels. First, I find it interesting that this piece of news is not being discussed in US media. I am however not entirely shocked, after the President's comments about Amnesty International's report about Human Rights in the USA. BitchPhD as usual says what they (Pseudonymous Rocket Scientist in this case) mean about this much more informed than I can.
Second: that when somebody wants to plant a piece of news in the media, they turn to viral marketing, plant it in blogs, and the blogs will spread the word. And it works. I am writing about it.
So, while I don't think I am Big Brass, I am going to watch this. I hope it will be good.
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