TinkerX

I have come down from the mountain with wisdom for you, my children. I am going to define “art,” and then discuss how TV almost never is, video gaming isn’t yet (possibly never may be), and why you don’t need to worry about it. Unless, of course, your art requires you to worry about it. In that case, get your muse on. Ready for the definition? Here we go:

Art surprises through artistry.

There you go. You can thank me later. But first, in my timeworn manner, I will elaborate at great and (probably) unrequired length. Let’s start with a definition of “artistry,” which is much easier than “art.” According to Merriam, artistry is, “the artistic quality of effect or workmanship” and/or “artistic ability.” To rephrase, it is the results of a reasonably effective attempt at art, or the skills required to generate such. That is, you cannot create “art” without “artistry.”

I would argue, though, that artistry does not guarantee art. We have all seen marvelously rendered oil paintings that clearly demonstrate “artistry” — what I would also call, “craft skills” — but which are less art than, well… craft. It takes a not inconsiderate amount of skill to create a lifelike representation of a bowl of fruit in oils, but the construction isn’t necessarily art, is it?

On the other hand… there can be no art without some (I think) artistry. We can argue about the level required, of course. There is primitive art and modern art and non-representational art that many of my friends would call “bogus” or “crap art” (mostly code jockeys and other engineering types… sorry, but it’s true). The idea that a stick of wood can be painted blue and hung at a 38-degree angle on a white wall and called “art” insults their sense of responsibility. The term “art” seems to imply gravity–cultural, intellectual, emotional, etc. A work of art with little or no (obvious) artistry is, to them, not art but, well… marketing.

There is certainly a range of artistry that can go from “not art” — a “No Parking” sign requires some level of craft– through “bad art” and up to “great art,” and we can (and will, because it’s fun) yap on and on about what makes one work bad, good, better or great. But the line between “not art” and “art” is, I think, defined by the word “surprise.”

A great “No Parking” sign can impress through artistry. As can a wonderful recipe, the design of a piece of furniture or an elegant shoe. But impressive artistry is not art; it is craft.

When, however, an artist surprises us through the use of artistry… that is, I believe, art. It requires a grasp of craft not as a way to guide us towards a foregone conclusion, but to take us to a place that isn’t necessarily logical or expected.

Let me be clear about my definition of “surprise” in this case, too. I don’t mean “startle.” A great horror film can use many elements of artistry to scare the bejesus out of us. The skills of the writer, cinematographer, director and actors can come together and make us jump and scream. But that is not surprising; it is startling and (maybe) frightening. The difference between startlement and surprise may be, in the case of horror books and films, the difference between artistry and art. It is not as hard to startle. You can startle someone by clapping behind them unexpectedly or putting a rat in their burrito. Fear, though, is harder. We’ll get to that again in a minute.

When we read a great book or see a wonderful film or hear terrific music, part of what impresses us is, clearly, the craft. But if the work takes our minds to a new place — with regard to the elements of that craft — we have art. I love good poetry for just this reason. It uses the same old words we’ve had all along, and puts them together in a way that makes me think, “Yikes. That’s a whole new way of seeing that concept.”

Surprise.

I believe, for myself, that TV has finally had an artistic moment. That is, where the craft of television — as distinct from film, music or theater — has created something that truly surprises the viewer through the manipulation of purely (or at least mostly) television-specific craft. That show is “Mad Men.”

There is a great deal to love about “Mad Men” in terms of craft. It is beautifully written and shot, and the acting is quite good at times. But the full impact of the show doesn’t come from the appreciation of the craft of making TV: it comes from the viewer being surprised by and through the use of that craft. In words I used recently when talking about the show: “I didn’t know TV could do that.”

Have there been other great TV shows? Yes. Clearly. And many of them have been “art” in that they were “art broadcast on television.” I’d argue that “All In the Family” was art… but it was, essentially, theater created for television. It was at its best, often, during simple, single-shot dialogue and character development moments. Which is an art that is carried over from film and theater.

Perhaps another way of describing what I mean is to say that successful art uses the language of its craft to say surprising things that couldn’t be said in any other medium.

“Mad Men” could not be a movie. Yes, you could watch it on a big screen, and watch it in longer chunks. But then it would just be a TV show on a movie screen. Just like watching “Casablanca” on your TV isn’t “the art of television,” but “the art of film viewed on your TV.”

I may do another post about why I think “Mad Men” is art, but, for now, I’ll assume you agree with me.

This thought string was spurred, to some degree, by a recent “London Review of Books” article about video games titled, “Is it Art?” It’s a good article. The author clearly isn’t as steeped in the world of games as… well… many gamer-writers, because he says some stuff that belies a more simplistic view of what videogames are. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a great piece, especially for other non-gamers. But when he says “video games” he means A-List XBox, PS3 and Wii titles. Much of the work being done near the border of “games as art” is in tiny little games being created by individual programmers and small, indie publishing houses.

The author, John Lanchester, poses the question “is it art?” about video games, and points at some recent titles that might come close. Near the end, he posits that games might become art when they give their users creativity tools, or, “…through the beauty and detail of their imagined worlds, combined with the freedom they give the player to wander around in them.” I disagree.

The first idea–giving users creativity tools–is clearly a craft or artistry consideration. It’s cool to have a game/toy/thing that lets me create stuff. Maybe what I’ll create may, someday, be art. But it won’t be “game art.” It will be “art that I created using game-y tools.” Unless, of course, I create a game that is art.

Which would be… what? Well, by my definition, it would be a video game that surprises us through the use of purely game-specific craft. So, that second idea of Lanchester’s–the beauty and detail of imagined worlds–will be (or is) “art within a game” rather than “game as art.” Like seeing a beautiful painting on TV.

Can a video game, then, be art? “Ludus gratia ludi?” I’m not sure. I’ve been watching TV for about 40 years, but until two years ago, didn’t believe any of it had risen to the level of art. It could take gaming that long to get to the point where the use of game craft surprises me in ways that would be impossible elsewhere. Not surprised by the level of the craft–the beautiful graphics, interesting mechanics, smooth UI–but by the result inside my wee haid. By what it makes me think.

I’m waiting.

[Alternate sub-titles for this post were: "Social Betworking," "Stoopidity 2.0," "The Venality of Crowds," and "Nothing for Money and Your Clicks for Fee."]

In line at the cafeteria this last Wednesday, I heard a couple guys I don’t know talking about the online auction site Swoopo. It seemed, from the little bit I overheard, like eBay with a slight gambling twist. Not for me, as I am an inveterate non-gambler, but to each their own. Then I saw a post about it on BoingBoing, and read more. All I can say, like many of the commentors at BoingBoing, is that PT Barnum was right. There’s a sucker born every minute, and two to take him.

The site bills itself as “entertainment shopping.” Note: this should be the first clue to anyone who wants to hang on to their money and/or get a decent bargain and/or actually buy something. “Entertainment” is a service. “Shopping” is (generally) for products. When you pay for a service, at the end, you have intangible assets: memories, new skills, an environmental change of some kind. From a pure-poetry standpoint, the phrase “entertainment shopping” is wonderful. The signal-to-noise ratio is incredibly high. I could spend an entire post just unpacking that phrase. Maybe later…

The Cake Scraps blog has a decent anyalysis of the site’s mechanics. But the basic idea is that you pay $1 for the chance to raise the price of an auction by 15-cents and be the high bidder. The winner (in most cases; there are several types of auctions) then has to pay the final price, on top of $1 for each of however many bids they made.

So… let’s say there’s an item that’s worth (retail value) $150.00 that finally goes for $75. If you placed the final bid, you would get yerself a nice deal; slightly less than 50% off ($75 price + $1 for the bid). But the total cost of bids to all players (the community?) would have been $500.

It’s like eBay, but where the “house” also gets $1 for every 15-cents spent.

It’s a variation on a scheme called a dollar auction. And Swoopo actually does auction off money, too. Bid on a $100 chunk of cash. As long as you (personally) bid fewer than 100 times (and win), you come out on top. And, of course, as long as there are enough bids to cover the dollar amount in bid charges, Swoopo wins.

It’s brilliant psychology. There isn’t even any trickery (unless, as several comments point out, a Swoopo shill or two is doing some bidding). It’s perfectly transparent.

The value statement becomes, I believe, very simple: How much are you willing to bet that you’re less of a sucker than everyone else who’s playing?

I recently blogged about the value of virtual stuff in virtual worlds and games, and (tangentially) on gold farming (also called RMT, the Real Money Trade). Again, for the uninitiated, gold farming involves playing a game to earn in-game wealth or stuff, and then selling it to other players for real world money.

After having written that post, I read an MMOG Nation post on “Gold and the Perfect Game.” An interesting, quick review of the theory that gold farming is the result of bad game design. In short, if a game requires you to do non-fun stuff — so non-fun that you’d rather pay someone else to do it for you — then the game is inherently flawed.

I tend to agree, but maybe not for the same reasons, and maybe not with the same conclusions.

I’ve been reading fantasy lit since about the 3rd grade, when I first read the Narnia series. After that, it was all the classics, including Tokein, Ursula K. LeGuinn, Terry Goodkind, Roger Zelazny, Piers Anthony, etc. etc. Dozens of series and, if you get into individual works, hundreds of books with some kind of fantasy theme.  And, at the moment, I am hard pressed to think of one where growing the wealth of the main character played a major role.

There are also danged few examples of stories where the quality of weapons/armor played a major role. Yes, Arthur needs Excalibur and the hobbits enjoy the use of their mithril armor… but those aren’t things that are bought in a store or traded for at a market. They are important narrative elements that come about after key plot points.

Now, in an MMO, not everyone can be Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf, etc. Levels (earned in experience points) and gear (earned sometimes, bought sometimes) are the ways you know you’ve moved your character forward and are slightly more Aragornish than your buddy, Stan. Gold farming subverts that system, obviously, by letting you use real world money as a stand-in for in game activities.

But, again… when was the last time you saw ANY adventure story where the good guys needed to hang out and farm, mine, etc. until they had enough dough to upgrade their junk? Money itself is rarely mentioned, and when it is, it’s usually bad guys trying to make tons of it at the expense of good people, who are more interested in honor, culture, getting it on with the heroine, etc.

So what would an MMO without any gold look like? For that matter, what would an MMO with no specialized gear look like?

It would look more like a good story, I think.  Which is, of course, harder.

Take away gold and gear and you’re left with experience points and levels, and I’m fine with that. How would something like that play?

• Levels account for 100% of the damage you do with un-spelled weapons
• Spells that improve weapons would have to be on-the-spot spells, either self-cast, or by a party member. For example, your mage casts “burning” on your regular sword and then, ta-da, it’s a burning sword. More spells or more instances are only available at higher levels, or at the cost of not being able to cast other stuff.
• Same for armor. Assume that everyone can afford good, basic armor. Make it a choice between better protection that slows you down, or lighter protection that’s more flexible. Spells to affect durability and effects as per above.
• If you really want some “stuff” that signifies “I’m more bad ass,” then link it to a quest required to get a certain level. That is, to become a level 10 healer, you have to do XYZ, and are then given the staff of XYZ… that does nothing, except be a staff that shows you’re level 10. Can you give it away? Sure… but why would you?
• Make healing basically free (so you don’t need to buy potions), but have the places where you can do it somewhat off-the-path from where the quests are. I don’t mean a half-hour trek back to down for some water of life… but don’t put them within combat-duration distance of the combat. You want to heal in the thick of it? Bring a healer.

Now, you’re thinking, “But folks could still pay somebody to level their character up.” Sure, that’s always going to be a possibility. But what if part of what happened at the lower levels was real, actual training that carried over into higher levels? Essentially, some arcade elements that ramp up, such that if you jumped in at Level 20, you’d have no experience doing [the thing] that’s necessary to unlock higher order effects.

I don’t know. Some people like the grind, farming, mining, crafting, etc. And a game that made those things more a centerpiece of the action might also discourage RMT. But, for me, a game where I didn’t have to worry about gold and gear would be a bunch more fun.

By way of Terra Nova, I found the Development Informatics (DI) working paper, “Current Analysis and Future Research Agenda on ‘Gold Farming’: Real-World Production in Developing Countries for the Virtual Economies of Online Games.” Quick definition for y’all non-grognards: gold farming is the selling of virtual/game world goods and services for real money. The easiest example is that I play a game, and with my character, earn a whole bunch of in-game “gold,” and then sell it to your character for real money. Other types of gold farming include leveling (improving another person’s character for a fee) or actual in-game item sales (selling a very rare or powerful in-game object for real world money).

My first “holy crap” exposure to gold farming was in the excellent January, 2003 Wired story, “The Unreal Estate Boom.” In it, Julian Dibbel quoted a study that estimated the size of Everquest’s GNP (the biggest game at that time) at around $135 million which, per persona, made it the 79th richest nation on earth. Dibbel estimated that the “value” of all virtual stuff in all worlds in 2003 was around $300 million. Now… that’s the total calculation of what *everything* inside these spaces would have been worth if it could have been sold for real dough; the study compared what the going rate for in-game gold was, and multiplied that by the total gold value of all items and character accounts.

So… check out the list of countries by GDP from Wikipedia. You’ll find quite a number of small countries whose GDP is lower than $500 million. That means that people all over the world have now attributed the worth — in actual, real dollars — of a year’s worth of virtual/gaming stuff as more valuable than everything Granada produces in one year.

I’m sure someone smarter (and with more time) could figure out what the “unrealized” GDP of these virtual spaces is; meaning, what all the virtual stuff would now be worth if it could be sold. If (and I’m totally making this up) that $500 million, for example, purchased 500 billion pieces of “gold” (a 1,000-to-1 ratio), and there were actually 50 trillion pieces of game gold being used… that would be a 100-to-1 real-to-virtual ratio, giving us a worldwide, virtual GNP of $50 billion. Which is more like the size of Croatia.

[Edit, 08/04/08. I just realized that the above bogus approximation is probably too complicated even for being so crappy. It might be easier to ask ourselves, "What percentage of virtual goods are realized in actual world money." I still don't know, but a 100-to-1 ratio doesn't seem too absurd; that is, for every one piece of gold purchased from a farmer, 100 are generated "naturally" and not sold/bought.]

As I said… that calculation is pretty bogus. But when you figure that a fairly small percent of all the virtual stuff that’s generated ends up being gold farmed… a 100-to-1 relationship doesn’t seem unreasonable to me.

$50 billion worth of magic swords, character attributes and elvish gold. You may want to have your kid start playing *more* games.

So I downloaded the free trial of “Spore: Creature Creator.” I’ve been drooling in anticipation of the full game of “Spore” now for… I don’t know, Will… how long? 3 years? 5? Something like that.

Anyway… played this little mini-preview game-y thing where you create creatures using one of the engines that will be in the final game. It’s fun. And my son really enjoyed it. I registered the trial online so that I could see other folks’ creations, get updates, etc. Registration, as per normal, requires an email address (cue ominous music… why would he point out an obvious bit o’ stuff like that? hmmmmm….)

The free trial of “Creature Creator” only gives you access to like 1/8th of all the pieces-parts. And my boy liked it enough that I decided to upgrade to the full version (never mind that I think this is essentially a marketing tease for the full game, now slated to come out in September, and that, IMHO, the “full version” of this little mini game should be free).

Clicking the “upgrade” button from within the game takes you to the purchase site for EA. OK…. Not exactly what I expected, as I’d already downloaded the large install file. Will they make me go through that again? I’d assumed I’d just pay and get an unlock code. A trick that 3rd-rate shareware peddlers have had perfected for years. We’ll see…

So I add the full version of the program to my cart, fill in all my info for checking out…

And get an error.

“That email address is already in use.”

Bwa? BWAAAA? The email address I gave EA as part of the registration process for a piece of trial software is already in use… Well, DUH! It’s in use by me, who registered earlier today. And now I want to upgrade… but you won’t let me, because my email address is already in use by you.

Mad stupid. Mad-5 stupid. I expected more from EA and Spore and Will and Maxis. This does not bode well…

I love Richard Bartle.

Not in the way that a man loves a woman, or another, less-hairy man. Or a really, really good steak. But he’s very well spoken, writes very well, is a major figure in the gaming universe, and is just an all around interesting guy. He writes great posts and leaves great comments on TerraNova, and responds amiably and intelligently there… as long as you provide some measure of amiability and intelligence back.

We don’t always agree. He doesn’t believe in God, and I think spelling “color” with a “u” is just batty. But other than those minor quibbles, he’s one of my favorite people in the infogamingmediasphere.

And he just went off on  the “smug, out-of-touch, proud-to-be-innumerate fossils” who are perennially down on video/computer games. My favorite bit?

Gamers vote. Gamers buy newspapers. They won’t vote for you, or buy your newspapers, if you trash their entertainment with your ignorant ravings. Call them social inadequates if you like, but when they have more friends in World of Warcraft than you have in your entire sad little booze-oriented culture of a real life, the most you’ll get from them is pity.

Like I said: love.

Thank you, Dr. Bartle. I’ve been playing video games since I was about eight in 1974. I play them, now (and have for years), with my 8-year-old son. More and more people are playing. Both kids and people my age… and older. And we haven’t seen a major up tick in violence during the Rise of the Game. The most violent parts of the world, methinks — Israel/Palestine, Afghanistan, Darfur, Chechnya, Washington D.C. — have many fewer gamers.

We are voters. We do buy newspapers. And we are tired as fuck of people (who don’t play) telling us how bad it is for us. So let me add my 2-cents to the Bartle rant. I won’t get quoted in the Guardian… and that’s OK. But I am glad to be in such good company.

* * * * *

What Richard said. And…

I’m so flippin’ tired of people who don’t play games coming at us as if we’re cellar-dwelling, no-life, dweebs. Or is if there’s something really wrong with that. Watch “Triumph of the Nerds.” The richest man in the world? Dweeb. Suck on that.

Maybe you like to golf, which requires that you take up inordinate amounts of space in order to whack around a small little ball. You can even do it by yourself, eh? And even when you play with others, it’s not really playing *with* them. You’re scoring against the course. OK. That’s fine. But how is that any less dweeby than playing computer games? Go buy $1,000 worth of sticks and plaid pants and a weird, visor-y hat. That’s cool. Drink beer while you’re doing it, if you like. Also cool.

Just shut up about *our* games.

Maybe you like to watch sports. Maybe you memorize facts about players and games and leagues. Maybe you get so personally, psychologically involved in “your” team(s) that it gives you pain when they lose. That’s cool. Buy the sweat-shirts and the caps and the big, foam fingers and spend four hours waiting in traffic and three hours in the rain waiting to sit on your ass for another four hours to watch 60 minutes of actual action. It’s all good.

Just shut up about *our* games.

Maybe you like to shoot guns. Maybe you think they’ll help you protect yourself, of just that it’s fun to shoot at targets. Good. Cool.

Just shut up about *our* games.

My whole dang life I’ve put up with smug, superior glances when I tell people (yes, I admit it, and always have) that I play video and computer games. I’ve put up with people who’ve never played these games equating them to childish, whimsical pastimes.  Well, there’s nothing really wrong with childish whimsy, but there’s actually nothing childish nor whimsical about Sid Meier’s Civilization or Assassin’s Creed.

Some games are whimsical, easy and simply fun. Some are incredibly complex and downright diabolical. Some are art.

If you don’t want to play, that’s fine. But until you understand what you’re talking about… just shut up. That’s what I do when people spend hours discussing golf, sports and guns. I don’t know much about them. So I shut up.

For the half of you out there playing games, though… I’d love to hear from you 

Revelations 8:11 (KJV) — And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.

I’m not a scholar of Revelations. But I’m pretty sure this (link may be NSFW depending on WYW) counts as evidence of the end times*. Quotes from the review:

The play mechanics are simple. Prepare yourself by strapping on the included belt harness and jacking in your Wiimote. A series of toilets are presented on screen and the challenge is to tilt your body to control a never-ending stream of pee. Get as much pee in the toilets as you can while spilling as little on the floor as possible. Sounds easy eh? Well the toilets open and close whack-a-mole style and occasionally the stray cat or other cute critter pops up. Spray a cat for extra points…

According to the Japanese text on the box “Super Pii Pii Brothers promotes good bathroom skills and allows women to experience for the first time the pleasure of urinating while standing.” What we say is that virtual peeing is damn fun!

Up to two players can compete with dueling pee streams.

Wow. Just… wow.

*Note to readers with no sense of humor nor of irony: I don’t actually think this.