Activision Fires 800 Employees, Because $100 Million Isn’t Enough Of A Profit?!

Hypothetical here: You are the new CEO of Activision/Blizzard, congratulations! Your first job is to publish your fourth quarterly profits from 2018, posting record profits for the year in excess of $100 million and generating a modest revenue of $2.4 billion. Pretty successful turnover considering you’ve only just taken over. Well done. So what would be the first thing you did to reward, lets pluck a number from the air here, 800 of your fine, hardworking employees? Perhaps a meagre financial compensation for their dedicated professionalism? Maybe a bottle of wine to commemorate their hard work? Or simply a hearty handshake, a pat on a shoulder and some comforting words that truly expresses just how much you value each and everyone of your valuable workforce? No you silly goose, you sack them. Fire them! Kicked their no good backsides out! You send those surfeit resources packing because a $100 million quarterly profit is “disappointing”. Well this seems to be the way Bobby (The Gecko) Kotick, the current heartless bull-sack CEO operates by firing 800 members of staff because–excuse me while I try not to choke on my own rage here–they “didn’t realise our full potential.”

Just let that sink in. Greedy corporate shills, profiteering from the labour’s of others, asserting that the millions of dollars generated wasn’t enough to sustain the job’s of these 800 supposed fiscal leakages? This is the world we live in where $100 million isn’t good enough?! That is some next level bullshitary I can’t possibly comprehend. If a company you owned is declaring record profits but can’t maintain, let alone build on their resources, then you have no business running a company!

Having lost my job last year due to managerial incompetence I feel passionately defensive for those that have suffered unscrupulous dismissal, and I hope they find suitable employment soon. But this whole sordid affair appears to be another sad, if rather predictable reflection of the industries cavalier treatment towards people and obvious deficit in moral scruples. Corporate greed is a virulent degeneracy that must be vanquished, before the entire medium is irreparably damaged!

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What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

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The Importance Of Physical Games.

The way the games industry operates isn’t something I can honestly say I understand anymore. Perhaps practices related to game development and publishing has always been this confounding and I’ve just been hopelessly oblivious. It’s a business like any other, sure. Often the trade can seem somewhat confusing, with dubious actions applied merely to accumulate an increased revenue. The beleaguered strategy of commerce over craft has become a customary ubiquity, so much so that its easy to resent an industry that for most part provides so much enjoyment. But it’s also worth noting just how much things have changed and not always for the better.

The advent of digital gaming has had a profound impact on the way gamers purchase their products. The convenience of playing a game almost immediately is powerful incentive for any discerning gamer. There’s no need to wait for a delivery of a package that has no doubt been treated as well as a bruised banana, delivered by some disgruntled postal worker with the hygiene best described as “optional” and no need to worry about storage. Digital downloads have revolutionised the way we play to such an extent that you wonder, in a time of high-speed Internet and global online accessibility, why we even need physical copies? Well there was some interesting news that occurred a few weeks ago so innocuous that you may not even have noticed. Startling news that presents troubling implications for the accessibility and conservation of computer games.

Lego Lord Of The Rings and its equally blocky precursor The Hobbit, titles readily available to buy for some time now can no longer be purchased from digital retailers. Though there hasn’t been any official confirmation as to why, its likely that licensing of the property has expired. After all these are games are adapted from the movies and subject to a finite period of distribution. Apparently. Of course such restrictions don’t apply to existing physical copies of the game, as there’s no way to enforce the same licensing regulations. So even if you don’t own a copy of the game you can still buy it, even if you can’t download it. With the ever progressive nature of gaming however and its explicit need to moderate and control how consumers engage with content, that physical alternative may not be available to us in the future.

It’s not unrealistic supposition to suggest that publishers would like to eradicate the physical market entirely, imposing its own policies on the trading of games. So it’s not unreasonable to assume that most are actively encouraging the likes of Sony and Microsoft to mitigate and eventual cease their viability. So with such hypothetical parameters applied to the Lord Of The Rings incident, how would you play these games if you didn’t already own them? Well, you can’t. And this is why I believe that the preservation of physical gaming is so important.

Over the next decade, probably even less, games will likely begin to shift into streaming territory. Offering a pay monthly service that provides users with access to hundreds of on demand games, without the customer owning any of it. This lack of control over our purchases is worrying. It’s not really ownership anymore, just an extended rental. And that’s not even taking into consideration the price or availability of high-speed Internet connection that will be an absolute necessity to use such a service effectively.

Physical games isn’t just about trivial vanity. Garish ornaments that clutter your alcove. It’s not just shelves of decorated opulence to impress visitors as if they are desirable works of art or first additions of War and Peace. These vibrant cases and their circular contents are the very essence of gaming. Without it games are simply vacuous, electrical discharges, comprised in a bulky inanimate devices.

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Do you still buy physical copies of games? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

Too Tired To Game.

Gaming narcolepsy. I’m not confident this is a legitimised condition, certainly not one recognised by medical practitioners. Maybe apnoea is a more appropriate term, I don’t know. All I know is I’ve got it! Perhaps it’s my age, fatigue, some innate “sleep mode” that activates whenever a controller touches my skin. It’s a particularly aggressive strain, persistently aggravated by my nocturnal comfort and isolation. An almost intuitive mechanism that debilitate’s my ability to play games for longer than a loading screen.

I’ve had moments when I’ve literally loaded in to a game, walked approximately 10 feet…..and then nothing. Just a brief period of blackness, before my eyes strain to comprehend the sudden view of my ceiling that moments ago were attentively gazing at my television?! As I lurch from my vertical position, peeling my daughters strewn “Peppa Pig” toy from skull that I’d carelessly rested my head on, its jagged frame leaving malformed indentations I try to gather some composure, wiping the drool from the crease of my mouth and stare sympathetically at the idle character on-screen. Standing there like a soldier awaiting command, motionless, confused and oblivious to my disobedient convalescence. Helplessly seeking guidance from anyone that will listen. Looking at me as if to say “Dude, seriously?! Again!”.

I’m at a loss as to what to do. Do I fight, revolt against my own failing anatomy? Seek genuine medical advice or just accept that I’m not as young and virile as I once was? Finally conceding that the wick in that candle I’ve been burning at both ends for years may finally have run out.

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How often do you you fall asleep during a game? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

“Bungie” Have Cut The Corporate Cord. But Can They Forge A New Destiny?

Divorces rarely run smoothly. They’re costly, time-consuming and hardly a barrel of laughs for either disputing couple. More often than not the dissolution of a marriage is attributed to “inconsolable differences”, which is a just polite way of saying “I can’t stand the sight of that conniving, adulterous prick. Give me half of your money and get out!”. The very formal legislation, complicated terminology and general legality of divorce can get a little messy, especially when it comes to which parent gets custody over their children. In the case of Bungie and Activision it appears that the former has not only profited from its detachment from its domestically abusive spouse, but has also restricted all visitation rights from their offspring: Destiny. I think it’s safe to assume that Bungie are the aggrieved party in this analogy, with Activision capably adopting the role of “Sadistic Husband” who doesn’t allow his wife to go out socialising with her friends or allow her to have an opinion of her own. And if we are honest it’s normally the male that messes relationships up and boy, did Activision do a spectacular job here.

Bungie somehow managing to retain the rights to Destiny is not only surprising, but implies that they believe they can redeem the underwhelming franchise, free from their former corporate overlords. But has the brand been tainted by its faltering reputation? No doubt there are some Destiny 2 fanatics that will proclaim it as an unparalleled experience, unworthy of such vitriolic ridicule. That the game is immeasurably better when you splurge £100 on content that should have been included from the beginning. I’m not judging, simply stating that these kind of business strategies are some of the most heinous supplements of modern game development. Still if the perpetrators were Activision, which I suspect that they were, then perhaps Bungie, free from their oppressors can salvage Destiny and perhaps thrive.

If I sound a little sceptical it’s because that the creative freedom granted by independence doesn’t necessarily ensure success. Unless Bungie are looking to negotiate with another publisher then the risk of failure increases. Even if the presumed successor to Destiny is their first initiative, there’s no guarantee that even fan goodwill will be enough to help, especially at a time when game developer’s/publishers are being so heavily scrutinised. For me personally it’s difficult to feel confident or even joyous about either Bungie’s independence or the acquisition of Destiny when their reputation as a game studio is tarnished by the only franchise of there’s I’ve played, that being the much maligned Destiny.

Whatever happens there’s no denying that this is a watershed moment for both the industry and consumers. And it will be interesting to see if anyone else begins to consider their own professional marriage?

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Are you excited to see what Bungie does with its new-found freedom? Of course you, stupid question. Do you think they will be successful, with either Destiny or something new? Let me know in the comments below.

Where I’d Be If I Hadn’t Met My Girlfriend.

Sometimes, during those particularly melancholy times I wonder what my life would be like if I had never met my girlfriend? Not in a churlish, “I’d be happy” kind of reflection, but one of sincerest wonder. Being as introverted and reclusive as I am conversing with literally anyone, let alone a female for prolonged period without sounding like a verbally challenged Hugh Grant, actively engaging with a women of my own volition is nothing short of a miracle. Before I was fortunate enough to meet her much of my time was divided between locking myself in my room with an assortment of sugary treats, beer and enough computer games to make my friends question how I ever lost my virginity. And on weekends occasionally socialising with a couple of mates down our local pub, attracting women in the same way a Pepé Le Pew courted that cat with the curious paint stripe down its back. In retrospect it’s kind of unbelievable that I actually met my partner in the first place.

Our meeting was fortuitous to say the least, perhaps even fated if one were so positively inclined. It was a Saturday night early in January and I had made one of my fleeting, though obligated jaunts out to catch up with a friend to chat about our respective new years. Having squandered much of my salary over the festive period on affluent items I didn’t need I wasn’t eager to spend anymore money than was necessary. So when my rather inebriated friend suggested we go to our local club to continue vandalising our already burdened livers I feigned an illness, clutching my stomach as if even the mention of booze was somehow exacerbating my digestive malady. He insisted that I’d be fine after another drink despite my continued resistance and Oscar worthy acting. Finally I relented, knowing full well that he’s capacity for retaining alcohol and his penchant for further libation would soon conflict, so I only had to endure his effervescent company for an hour, maybe two depending on how observant security at the club were before he was removed for being too drunk or more likely too unconscious.

It wasn’t until we arrived at the club that I realised I didn’t have my ID. I had always looked much older than I was, a burden that has sadly not diminished with age, so for most of my excursions I didn’t require it. Of course this just so happened to be one of those rare occasions when I did. Having failed to gain entry I explained to my friend that I would go back home and retrieve my passport, which at the time was the only form of ID I had, promising to return promptly. However, having negotiated my way back to my mother’s in the frigid January cold I was more than happy not to venture back out to sustain further cold inflicted damage and would instead remain home. I attempted to relay this message to my by now comatose friend, but he failed to answer his phone. Feeling a little concerned that he may have overindulged I decided to depart, if only to escorts him safely home.

By the time I returned however he was examining a young ladies tonsils with his tongue, making my supposed chivalrous belief seem somewhat mute. So I staggered to the bar, purchased some translucent vodka drink containing enough sugar to put me in a diabetic coma and inexplicably determined that I was going to court some (Un) lucky lady with dance moves that can only be described as distressing. Imagine if an injured penguin was trying to imitate Tobey Maguire’s dance moves in Spider-man 3, then you have some notion of just how bad my seductive shimmying was. With my arms flailing like an anguished Octopus I wooed possibly the only women drunk enough to be allured by my hopeless cavorting.

Needless to say that any woman who finds me captivating is someone you don’t let go of. So after chatting about music, movies, life and other surplus topics I’ve since forgotten we exchanged phone numbers, arranged several dates and have spent the past 12 years forging a kindred relationship that yielded many affluent benefits, including a house and our beautiful, if troublesome daughter. Even after all this time, having familiarised ourselves so thoroughly with one another, is amazing just how comforting the little things are. The trivial eccentricities that only you know about, like the way she verbalize’s internal thoughts or hiccups after every meal. Her insatiable lust for Haribo eggs as well as her uncanny taste receptors that can tell the difference between the imitation eggs and the genuine article.

Her influence has been staggering for my own personal growth and I’d like to think I’ve had a positive impact on her as well. It isn’t always easy, but nothing worth fighting for ever is. So where would I be if I hadn’t met my partner? Well I wouldn’t have experienced the incredible journey I have and probably wouldn’t be as happy, that’s for sure.

Does The Games Industry Hate Older Gamers?

There’s a divide. A clear yet subtle disparity between young and old gamer’s. There’s certainly an indication that expectations are sharply distinctive between generations. The difference between gamer’s is the same as the difference between the movies “Alien” and “Aliens”; marginal, yet distinct. What’s also telling is the number of people who will comprehend that reference and those that won’t understand the significance of the plural. There’s invariably the same enthusiasm, similar passions, just a variable interpretation of what constitutes as reasonable doubt and deceitful. Youth tolerate certain grievances that someone like me would never condone. It’s a very broad generalised sentiment that may not accurately reflect your own personal experience, but it’s hard to deny that some established practices are deemed acceptable and even normal.

Games released unfinished, teething with crippling bugs, inflated pre-order incentives, premium currency, and everyone’s favourite legalised thievery, Loot Box’s. Of course these are also the kind of practices that have occurred incrementally over many years, simmering gradually to condition us to odious stench of corruption without it seeming alarming. It defies belief that such practices are tolerated in an industry that once flourished because of innovation not despite it. Commerce over craft is the encouraged method for game development. Hell, many supposed AAA games aren’t even released fully functional! If a game I purchased didn’t work I’d demand my money back, not passively defend the ignorant exercise as a necessary part of game development. The worst part, the thing that really rile’s me is the blatant lies emitted by devs/publishers, most notably the fallacious assertion that not only do we not play single player games anymore, but also don’t trade games.

The systemic dissolve of the second-hand market instigated by publishers that want more control over their revenue is not something I’d consider a positive step for the industry, let alone consumers. The aggressive defamation of single player experiences simply because publishers can’t monetise them infuriates me! They use their significant influence to flat-out lie about how people don’t want single player games to justify the inclusion of their sloppy, content starved multiplayer games. What I hate most is that people accept it. Just watch idly, complicit in their deceptive labour and casually say that it will get sorted “later”. As if that’s an acceptable alternative. So how does this translate into some perceived hostility towards older gamer’s? Well, we tend to be more casual, and casual players don’t tend to spend as much.

We have jobs, bills, domestic responsibilities, things to moan at, awkward joints, and quite honestly we require more sleep. There’s a necessitating incentive from brief, easily accomplished objectives in games that at my age and social standing is not only appealing but required. Life simply doesn’t permit the time to engage in an extended play-through that can’t be paused and potentially left absent for a period of time. Companies that can’t exploit you regularly and aggressively aren’t much interested in you. And ironically enough I’m not all that interested in them.

An Open Letter To Christmas.

Christmas, you infernal festive impediment, we really need to talk. Now I like you, always have. That isn’t going to change. I’ve always enjoyed your childish exuberance, your garish, overstated presence even if your innocent platitudes are often saturated by commercialism and increasingly celebrated prematurely as a burgeoning impotent affair. I enjoy watching the Father Ted Christmas special, gauging myself on yuletide goodies and I especially adore how I can use Santa Clause annual generosity as an incentive for my daughter to behave. Christmas is a very useful commodity, but do you have to take up so much of my time? Your incessant presence over such a prolonged and unnecessary preamble has severely encumbered my ability to play games in any substantial capacity.

Red Dead Redemption 2, arguably my favourite game of the year has remained largely forlorn. Its considerable expanses have remained unexplored, Arthur Morgans guns have been confined to there now underused holsters. Trouble being is that Christmas, even during spare time demands significant considerations. Preparations have to be made, Christmas trees have to be decorated, presents conceived and then purchased with money I don’t have. My partner and I then have to work additional hours to afford the costly goods and sundries that for the rest of the year would be considered frivolous expenses. We have to write Christmas cards to family members, both superfluous and prominent. Send ones to friends, colleagues, neighbours, strangers, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers.

Even if I’m lucky enough to wrangle 5 minutes away from festive exertions and domestic obligations, I’m usually so tired that I full asleep in the middle of games! Often waking from my stupor to see Arthur Morgan stood at camp nursing wounds from a failed mission I nodded off in, silently judging my idleness as a slight against him and his band of merry men. So please Christmas, take heed. Lessen your influence in the months before. Inform supermarkets that stocking up on Mince Pies and Christmas puddings really isn’t a necessity in September. That it’s okay not to market the birth of a fictional baby as a way of passively enforcing people to buy expensive thrift you don’t really need for one another just because society dictates that you should. Diminish the overall pageantry and stress of Christmas and allow people to enjoy the flamboyant spectacle in a way they feels most comfortable. Like celebrating the day by gauging myself on booze and food, dozing on the sofa and being left alone for the entire build up to Christmas to play games. Perhaps next year.

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Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!