So I finished Super Sad True Love Story this morning, and now I am faced with the common problem when finishing up a blog for class: tying everything together into a nice package. If we are talking about the role of narrative within a digital society, then SSTLS gives us an interesting aspect of that especially since we are returning to text from weeks of digital works. As I read, I found myself getting pulled into the text for a reason that normally does not seem to occur in novels; while some text might grip the reader with plot and character, SSTLS is detached. We can go back to Ryan briefly to explain that narrative exists with characters as the primary movers of plot; therefore, the immersive aspect of books is reliant on interesting characters within an interesting plot. Cut any of those aspects out and you suddenly don’t have narrative, the characters simply exist within a text habitat. SSTLS, I would argue, does not have that common narrative attribute: the characters are flat and the plot really doesn’t amount to a whole lot; however, it is certainly an immersive text regardless of the characters simply existing within the world. So, what does this mean? It means that SSTLS throws off the idea of character development and looks more towards world development. Throughout the text, I was much more interested in the world of the novel rather than the characters, and it is obvious Shteyngart knows this because the world is developed slowly, thoughtfully. He moved the development of resources from character and plot development towards setting up an immersive world that his characters exist in, but it is simply a small part of it. It’s much like when one plays The Sims, you can create an entire neighborhood, yet the narrativity of the game is focused on one particular family/household at the time. The player can add to that world at any time how they see fit. Thus, I would say SSTLS is a “sandbox text” a narrative made to set up an immersive and engrossing world rather than a plot of characters.

Think of the text much like a Bethesda game akin to Skyrim or Oblivion. While there are games out there that focus specifically on character and plot (often mimicking other media like film *cough* Uncharted *cough), Bethesda and these sandbox games work to create a large world where the player simply exists within the confines of the game. There can be story within these context (either player generated or a particular quest line), but that is secondary to the world and exploration of that world. Skyrim is more about finding what lies in the various nooks and crannies of the game world rather than developing your character or moving the plot forward. This is why the main quest is but an afterthought and you can literally play the game as a day laborer (chopping firewood or hunting or smithing) just as much as you can be a great warrior that fights dragons. The only narrative device the game really takes from the player is the idea that they must still exist within the game world, and SSTLS is the same. Although we can choose to view that world in different lights, as long as the physical book is open, we must exist within that realm of fictional reality (unless we “mod” the book by writing in it or physically altering it).

I posted a story on Twitter earlier this week about how players don’t actually wish to have total freedom in games, merely the illusion of that. I think SSTLS is an interesting experiment in allowing readers a bit more freedom within a text rather than needing to follow a set path of developing plot devices. Is that narrative? I think Ryan would say no, but it at least makes for interesting discussion.

Façade really sets itself apart from the mainstream games right away in the simple idea that the game is focused on two people in a domestic conflict with the player acting as a non-combat moderator of sorts (of sorts because, although the characters do ask for your help, they, in most cases seem to talk around the player). Looking through my own game collection, I see very few games without a combat element (my plug for the action-puzzle game Catherine or the true survival-horror game Amnesia: The Dark Descent) and even fewer where the game is not focused on life or death circumstances (only this and Dead or Alive: Extreme Beach Volleyball, don’t judge me, it was a gift). While there are plenty of games that don’t focus specifically on characters that don’t have combat elements (Guitar Hero, Dance Central, etc), I will not count those simply because those are in an entirely different category then games with clear stories and characters. The lack of life or death circumstances in Façade means that the developers lost their cheat card for tension forcing them to hold the player’s tension with the domestic conflict. This doesn’t work because the characters placed in the game are so very inconsistent. In my first play, Trip went from a spineless wimp taking every insult Grace could throw at him to a crazed maniac yelling at the player character because I was spending my time telling him to not simply roll with all the punches Grace was throwing. Now, I do give the developers kudos for having the game react to you in real time, but whether the game truly chooses to recognize what the player says is sketchy at best, and the only play I completed feeling like the game did best for the situation was where I decided specifically to play as a mute (“Stop STARING at ME!”).

It seems to me that Façade is a game where the ends are not truly in the player’s control, and, while you can put words on the screen, the game reacting to those words correctly is completely random. It really makes the player feel like a variable rather than our “actor, co-author, artist” categories. The game can follow specific paths with proper coaching and a bit of luck (Galatea looks from her pedestal), but ultimately there seems to be a function within the game that if it doesn’t understand what the player is saying, it ignores the player (and that only works if you play as a Jehova’s Witness). And so we are left with a game which sets itself apart from others, but is saddled with a problem inherit within its own mechanics. It think if the game worked perfectly every time, I could categorize this as a game where the player truly is the artist (acting as both a director and the player actor simultaneously), but, because of the games tendency to talk around the player, I am going to stick with my category from earlier. The player is a variable in Façade, and it completely destroys the tension of the story through inconsistency.

Discussion Questions: Did you attempt any off-the wall playthroughs (mute, Jehova’s Witness, etc.)? If the game worked perfectly, would it still be a narrative since the conflict is entirely ordinary and domestic? Why show Trip and Grace in such relative affluence (I debated on using this topic, but ultimately decided against it)?

Extra Credits on Game Reviews: http://penny-arcade.com/patv/episode/game-reviews

Considering the definition of a work that is considered transmedia, we could consider Dollhouse a work within that function (since it is both TV show and comic); however, I see something that problematizes this a little. Much like the Matrix examples given, the Dollhouse comic, I would argue, does not really stand alone as a work. In fact, it even bills itself as the continuation of the series much like Buffy, Angel and Firefly (all Wheadon works) to the point where they do not feel that they need to introduce characters. Instead, because the comic is billed towards fans that have watched the series (the Wheadon cult following as we partially went into in class last week), the comic just throws the reader directly into plot.

Take a second at any comic book shop to look through a couple of the pile of issue #1’s from DC Comics’ New 52 promotion (I’ll use the 4 separate Batman comics, Detective Comics, Batman: The Dark Knight, Batman, and Batman and Robin, as examples). Batman is a character that has already made the transmedia jump; there are movies, TV shows, comics, video games, etc all with the Batman seal. Now, while the character does remain constant, one could argue, rightfully so, that there is no true transmedia narrative since the stories in Batman are quite different even between the comics. Using that as my straw man; however, I can make my argument for it. In each new Batman comic, they introduce the character that had been so firmly placed within American culture (this is Bruce Wayne, he dresses as a Bat and fights crime). Doing that ensures that the story can stand alone from the rest of the gigantic Batman continuity and it allows DC to actively say that the issue 1 is truly a starting point for new fans. While doing this, at the same time, the DC writers cater to the mid and long term comic fans by having specific continuity events still play a part in the overall narrative (Dick Greyson grew up to be Nightwing, Bruce Wayne is the father of Damien Wayne, the new Robin, Barbara Gordon was still shot in the spine during The Killing Joke, and so on). Thus, the individual stories stand alone, but the overall continuity is much deeper and rewards those who put the time and effort into following it. This even sidles into the animated Batman movies like Under the Red Hood which, while mentioning and showing old comic events to make them important plot points and character developers, the main focus of the work is the specific story the work is telling.

So, in short, I am not sold on Dollhouse as a work of transmedia, feel free to disagree with me, however. Now, for something new: discussion questions:

What does it mean when a story isn’t taken as transmedia, but a character is? Both Harley Quinn (Joker’s sidekick) and Mr. Freeze both have origins linked to the Batman animated series, not the comics (Harley was original and Freeze was retconned). They later became main portions of the comic. Could we say that they are transmedia characters?

How does the idea of transmedia working with the best strengths of the mediums it transitions to fit into the fact that the strength of video games is the ability to be both spectator and roleplayer? Do all transmedia video games simply become interactive movies?

But how do Actives relate to gaming in this way? Well, let’s look at what we know of that medium. When a game is played, the player takes the role of the character within the game structure. All the information the player receives is given to them within the structure of that character (keep in mind that this is considered to be a game with a set storyline and the player character is premade). Let’s use Alan Wake as an example. If I play Alan Wake, I am not Tony within the game, I am Alan and the information given to me about Alan is internalized within the game structure (as the game explains through play that Alan is a writer on vacation, his wife is kidnapped, and the player as Alan feels a strong urge to save her). Now, we do know, as a player playing a game, that our own memories and experiences are taken with us into the game world leaving us to act as both participant (I won’t get into the artist, co-author, actor debate again) and spectator as we watch ourselves act within the structure in the real world. Actives, because they have their brains instrumentized, lose that spectator function; therefore, they are subjected to the rules that are programmed into their personality at the given time for a given job. In fact, Echo is really the only character that is able to retain that function of taking previous experience into different scenarios is a major story element in the series. To go a step further, because Echo is able to fit into that dual role, she is able to rebel against the subjection the given memories wish to impose onto her.

So, the big question: why is this important? To be honest, other than a reaffirmation of what makes games different as a medium, I don’t know. Identity is obviously one of those strange things that one can never get a decent grasp on. Actives are really just the natural elaboration of virtual identity, and, defining one by the personality they take at a given time is similar to determining my identity based on the games I have within my Steam Cloud (downloading Civilization 5) even though that is how the given Steam system defines me (since you liked game x, you’ll like game y). Either way, Dollhouse acts as an interesting dramatization of what can happen when we lose the ability to be a spectator of our own experience, but, beyond that, I think it needs further elaboration.

http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v453/n7198/full/nature06996.html

For some strange reason, the idea of Youtube as social network consistently made me funnel my logic into the strange idea of Youtube as an ideal Libertarian landscape of cognitive capital. To keep myself from having to grab my copy of Games of Empire from the fireplace, cognitive capital is the term to explain the idea of someone turning personal creativity into a commodity to be bought, sold, and traded. Youtube, using this idea, can be seen in the literal sense of “The Marketplace of Ideas” with channelers working to craft their product in a way that gets them more viewers and gains them the monetary benefit Youtube gives once the video receives over a set amount of views. The example I’ll use specifically comes from the chart on page 59: James Rolfe (JamesNintendoNerd). While you cannot swing a dead cat around Youtube (a search on Youtube for swinging a dead cat brought me to a band called Swinging Dead Cats: 41 views) without hitting a video game reviewer, James crafted his product in such a way to earn maximum views using both his love of early games and training as a filmmaker. The result was the ability to earn money through Youtube before getting attached to a larger website (IGN) before simply making his own site where not only can he increase his own revenue but also focus on other projects closer to him such as legitimate filmmaking.

But, this is a blog post for a digital narrative class, not how to make money using Youtube, so what is my point? The point is, unlike Twitter, Facebook, and personal blogging, Youtube is a social network that is almost completely focused within that capitalist structure rather than simply a personal identity builder online. I am not saying that the other social networks can’t be used as revenue generators (there are whole genres of books about making money through blogging, after all), but, with Youtube, the reason for building yourself within the social structure of the system is to get the most views which may or may not earn the channeler money from Google. Now, also keep in mind that this is my view for individual channelers (or groups not owned by a corporate entity) since, obviously, for the music channels that receive a slew of views, the goal is more for advertising and selling a brand or product as a revenue generator rather than making the individual or group known in order to go the James Rolfe route. If you need more examples as well: Loading Ready Run, Extra Credits (although they are a bit strange and feel free to ask about them in the comments), Bob Chapman (Moviebob), and LittleKariboh (sp) have all gone in a similar path. Anyway, I leave the comments open for you folks.

Yes, I said the audience “creates narrative.” In Elephant, we are simply given snapshots of character’s lives; the small piece of life that is “worth filming.” There is very little development of character, no arc, and the audience is given very little reason why a character performs a certain action (in some cases we can get a decent idea, but can someone give me a very clear reason why Alex goes through with shooting up the school?). Thus, what we get is a movie that gives us a character, the audience is led to often stereotype them or form a narrative around them, and do the story grunt work for it. The final scene really speaks to that final scene with the freezer and the smash to blue sky for what seems like no apparent reason. We are given no ending, no closure, and no real place to go specifically because, as I said, these characters don’t have arcs and only exist in these small moments within the film. I’ve read through a majority of the blogs for this week and found a few people who are angered by the way the movie was filmed and how it ends. I think this is because, as movie watchers (which I know many of us are), we are trained to look for development, story, and what “the director is trying to say through film” (although that is only if you subscribe to auteur theory which some directors do not. We wish to make sense of the world and the people within it, so we create these stories to suit our own model of the universe. Elephant goes against that, it places the focus on the audience and tells them “you are watching a movie and you are going to come to your own conclusions about every character within it.” Then it proceeds to give few clues as to what the director/collaborative effort of the crew wish to convey. Margaret specifically mentioned the brief cut to the “floating gun” similar to the common First-Person Shooter camera, and that is one of the few shots which I certainly think was the film trying to say something, BUT…circling back, as I said, I am a product of the video game culture, a culture that was, more or less, in an ideological war with “family” groups and other political committees seeking to tell others that the video game culture was dangerous. Thus, I understand my own lens into why I see such a shot as an attack. So, maybe everyone is viewing this film within the realm of their own lenses and hobby horses. And I will now go into that and how Tristram Shandy fits into all of this…(blue sky).

And now, as a treat for that awful joke, here is an episode of Extra Credits: http://penny-arcade.com/patv/episode/the-myth-of-the-gun

Galatea 2.2 raises some interesting questions to me mainly regarding artificial intelligence and the idea of mimicking “human thought.” Having a CIS major in the apartment helps here because we have had conversations dealing with this topic before and both of us are fascinated by the concept of technological growth and human augmentation. IN G 2.2, the wager is to create a computer that can mimic human thought to the point that it can analyze literature and not obviously be a computer.
Now, to just explain the basics of what a program would have to do there, the system would actually have to be able to not only write its own code to have a way to store what it has learned, but it would also need to have administrator rights (you know, those things that keep you from saving things on the St. Rose computers in certain areas) on itself, so, when the machine felt (that’s a loaded term) it didn’t have use for a piece of information, the information could freely be deleted. That is really all it takes to mimic or, rather to establish, what we freely define as “human” thought. This is also what creates that sense of individuality because, if you think in terms of your own computer operating system, you require updates to fix various problems not seen in the original programming and that remains static until you decide “Hey, I feel like waiting a few hours for my computer to update.” Now, if a computer mimicked that defined human thought, the computer I currently write this on would differ from Margaret’s, Tony’s, and everyone else on the blog list because the computer would have to define itself by how the user uses it and how well the individual system is able to find its bugs and run better.
Now, for the fun part and the reason I have titled this “Indoctrinate Indoctrinate” (other than the blatant Doctor Who reference). But, I pose the question of when you create a true learning system such as Helen or, if you are an anime fan, the Tachikoma’s from Ghost in the Shell, then those machines can rightfully think for themselves, so science fiction fantasies such as the Three Laws of Robotics no longer become viable because, if the AI was made to be true intelligence, the machine would freely be able to consider those laws backwards, unneeded, or unfair and delete them completely. Therefore, if you really look at the terms of “How do we save ourselves from this inevitable robot uprising?” (which I do often while going over a zombie survival plan)the concept of creating a system of laws or portions of code to prevent Skynet comes primarily from an ability to indoctrinate the computer to keep that piece of code (I just stumbled onto a whole slew of ideological fluffer nutter too).
So, I pose the question to the rest of the class. If a computer system becomes indistinguishable from a human, is it still inhuman? Do we need to define human thought in different terms as we create systems that are able to mimic us? Also, is there an moral (whatever you define your morals by) question we must ask ourselves before we are brought to the point of having to indoctrinate our computers?