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Owning ideas

Of course, the counter argument (indeed, Jefferson’s own) is that stasis is neither constructive nor desirable. Copyrights originally existed for only a short term, giving the author a temporary monopoly over the material he has created, as a necessary evil in order to ensure some due compensation to the author and thereby to encourage him to continue producing and adding to the cultural discussion.

What copyright was never meant to do was to reward a person for squatting on a creation for the rest of his life, both stifling the exchange of ideas and providing no particular incentive to the creation of new ideas. If you’re still raking in the money from something you did twenty years ago, and are living quite comfortably, where’s the active encouragement to keep contributing?

Yet, especially with the recent concept of “intellectual property”, that’s exactly what copyright (and trademark and patent) law has come to represent. And to a certain extent, that is troubling. On the one hand, you’ve the argument that Mr. Ayres gives here — that, in a sense, once you’ve uncorked the bottle you’ve responsibility to it forever. On the other, there’s the concept that (as phrased by someone famous) everything has its time and everything dies. For instance, what does Betty Boop really mean anymore? She was a caricature of things in popular culture at the time she was created. Today, there’s no context for the character; she’s just a random icon who lives on beyond her natural expiry date because she was once considered valuable.

Perhaps in the future she will be valuable again in a different context, if reinvented by someone else to represent something new. As long as she’s mired up as a piece of property, though, that is far less likely to occur. Neither will she be allowed to simply sink.

Modern culture is something of a zombie — an animated corpse, built of expended ideas kept in play because nobody can afford to let them drop. Partially as a result, it’s harder and harder to create anything new without infringing on what’s come before and drawing someone’s ire and lawyers. The emphasis is, it could well be argued, in exactly the wrong place: toward maintaining arbitrary infrastructure rather than toward growth and change.



Lifestyles of the Rich and Stupid

I don’t consider myself a gamer. Then again, I suppose I don’t “game” so much as I… play videogames, sometimes.

If my distance sounds disingenuous… well, sometimes it is, a little. There is, however, a difference between having something in your life and building your life around that thing. Videogames fascinate me, and I spend a good deal of time thinking about them on an abstract level. I’ve thought enough about them to make some money based on those thoughts. Sometimes I play them, a little, when I’ve nothing better to do. I don’t feel it’s got much, if anything, to do with my personal identity, though. It’s just something that’s there, in my life.

And I think that’s an important distinction. Most videogames currently cater to “gamers” — a label that suggests that they use videogames to give themselves identity on some level. And, well, that just explains everything, doesn’t it. Aversion to change, in particular.

A person doesn’t need to have that ego attachment to enjoy a videogame any more than I need to tattoo Trent Reznor’s name on my thigh to enjoy Nine Inch Nails. Or even to analyze his music on a deeper level, sometimes. Likewise, I don’t need to spend my life in the cinema to enjoy Orson Welles and appreciate the significance of his work.

That is, to an extent, what Nintendo’s going after now: trying to make videogames accessible to people who don’t necessarily want to base their lives around them — which, at present, videogames really aren’t much. The “casual game” sector, and the success of cell phone games, proves that there’s some headway to be made here. I think that whole subsection of the industry is a little misdirected (and frankly a little patronizing), though.

I’m reminded of a recent post by Matt McIrvin about the Wikipedia science community, in particular advanced physics — about how the people editing don’t know how to write at all and keep skewing articles toward the most inclusive, precise, elaborate definitions possible. McIrvin keeps trying to smooth out the language, to make more accessible analogies, and to winnow out the superfluous material so as to make the pages readable and the information comprehensible to someone with, at best, only a slight existing understanding of the material. And even then he often gets complaints from casual readers that the articles are impenetrable.

Addressing this doesn’t necessarily mean dumbing down the material; it just means stepping back and detaching yourself from it enough to understand the context and what’s actually useful. There is a place for insider science writing, and that’s in academic science journals. There is a place for “gamer games”, and the Wii completely supports them. Just as important, though, is making the information available on a certain practical level to anyone who might express an interest.

How often have you handed a controller to, say, a parent who expressed some interest in what you were doing, only for him to hand it back in frustration when he couldn’t make sense of what he was doing; couldn’t coordinate his hands, was overwhelmed with all of the buttons and their seemingly random effects? I recall my mother once being curious about my NeoGeo Pocket Color; I handed it to her with Sonic Pocket Adventure, and even after explanation she couldn’t figure out how to make Sonic both run and jump at the same time.

The interest is there; anyone can be interested in anything. The problem is addressing that interest and drawing it into full-fledged involvement, for the time spent with a videogame — rather than simply assuming an existing level of exposure and a certain set of preconceptions.

Though I have that exposure, I don’t really feel I go into videogames from the perspective of someone looking for a videogame to play; I’m looking for something on a more human level, to maybe contribute something to my life for the time I spend playing. That might be an abstract intellectual observation, as in the game systems of a Treasure game, or it might be emotionally-based, as in Silent Hill. I don’t play videogames simply because they’re videogames, though. I don’t at all care about videogames for their own sake; I’m only interested in what they can do for me. I mostly stick around because I see the potential bubbling away, for them to tell me something really interesting that I didn’t know before.

I think that’s pretty close to the definition of a non-gamer. And I think it’s pretty close to the stance of your housemom or random schmoe. Which is why I think, should videogames come closer to achieving that goal, they will find a much wider audience than they currently do.



Spoiler Space

My one niggle with the dvd releases is the use of story clips as part of the programme menus. Imagine me with my eyes tight shut, stabbing at the remote control to select an option before I see my favourite episode ending. Many of us will know the stories frame for frame but I’m still quite squeamish about seeing these ‘spoilers’ just before viewing.

Something to consider is that these snippets have no context: they’re just random lines and images. On their own, they’re absolutely meaningless. As such, their spoiler potential is practically nil. Even if they show the final shot in the final episode, there’s no possible way you could know that’s the final shot, or that you could know what that shot means in the context of the story, unless you watch the main feature.

Hell, much of the time I have trouble placing the origin of the clips even if I’ve watched the feature several times — simply because of the lack of narrative context.

This is the reason why even large “spoilers” have absolutely no effect on my viewing, and why I find the whole concept perplexing. Without context, facts are effectively meaningless. Information isn’t experience, and only the latter leads to understanding.



Wiivolations

aderack: OH MY GOD.
Thom: erm?
aderack: I was just saying to a couple of people (Shep, David Hellman) that it would be cool if you could save your “Mii” avatars in your controller, for transporting to other systems and playing with friends — making them and the remote really extensions of yourself.
Thom: and they’re going to do it?
aderack: I was saying I didn’t even expect them to be transportable because, you know, Nintendo. Always screwing up the little nice things.
aderack: And. Yeah.
aderack: You can do it.
Thom: that’s really really smart
aderack: THEY DOWNLOAD INTO YOUR REMOTE.
Thom: that’s freaking awesome
aderack: So wherever you bring it, you have your own avatar.
aderack: To use in things like Wii Sports.
aderack: Oh my GOD.
aderack: That is just… amazing.
aderack: It’s genius.
aderack: And it’s so obvious.
Thom: if they could rig that up for save games, that would be really fun as well
aderack: And even so, they DID IT.
aderack: It’s not implausible.

EDIT:

eric-jon: Soo.
About this “Mii” business.
JohnO: mii?
eric-jon: You create an avatar for yourself, using sort of a cross between the PSO character creation utility and the character designs from those big-head baseball games.
And you use it in games like Wii Sports.
Rather than generic protagonist X, you play as yourself.
Or your representation of yourself.
Turns out you can download that to your wiimote, so you can take your avatar with you.
On your own controller.
Which you bring to your friends’ houses.
Then use to play alongside them, with your own character.
That’s plenty mindblowingly awesome.
JohnO: it is!
it’s um…dreamcast!
eric-jon: Now that you mention it.
Hell.
That’s exactly what Sega was getting at, though never quite accomplished.
Oh Jesus was that system ever ahead of its time.
Or rather, oh Jesus is everyone else behind.
JohnO: yeah more the second



Long Pong Silver

Pongism is sex!