The Gaming Industry Sucks.

I’m a PlayStation gamer, and have been since I received a PlayStation 1 for my twelfth Birthday. Now this wasn’t a decision based on sophomoric loyalty or biased aversion to the competition. This was purely a consumerist preference. The original PlayStation was the prevailing console on the market, with the PS2 further solidifying its popularity in the wider gaming firmament. There were the dedicated outliers of Xbox supporters, the snobbish contrairians of the playground who would ridicule the lambs suckling at the corporate teat of Sony. But for the most part we simply enjoyed the flourishing creativity provided by these machines that could render realistic 3D environments for us to explore. We weren’t really concerned with how we played games, or even the device we used. We were just captivated by their ingenuity and fun.

Sadly the industry has changed, emboldened by the financial potential afforded by gaming’s lucrative appeal. Perhaps the gaming industry has always been this covetous and we have willfully ignored the blatant capitalism that is now so prevalent. But I can’t help feeling that the things have gotten significantly worse since the more rapacious elements in the trade are promoted to positions of authority, in companies they neither understand nor evoke any genuine affinity for. Those that profit from this entity by attaching itself to it, like a parasitical barnacle of the hull of a ship. More concerned with analytics, market data and consumer trends, than crafting something distinct. And no one epitomises this passionless ideology more than Sony’s chief of charisma, Jim “Vanilla” Ryan.

Being the human equivalent of a baked potato, in both appearance and personality, Jim Ryan seems like the type of guy in school that would remind the teacher to assign them homework. Yet here he is, promoted to a position of authority, to oversee one of the industries leading gaming publishers, with all the magnetic fervour of a Postal strike. Nothing this man imbues, inspires confidence nor the inclination that he has the slightest notion of the company he is representing. This is the same guy that referred to PS1 and PS2 games as “ancient”, without a hint of irony and little comprehension as to why anyone would want to play them, over a modern equivalent. Then there is his hypocritical opposition to Xbox acquisition of Activision, or more accurately the ownership of the “Call of Duty” publisher. And a direct slight against the industry’s critical darling and literal embodiment of smug, Phil Spencer. This is when you’d insert the meme of the doppelganger Spider Man pointing at one another.

I understand that this is a business. Profit margins. Turnover. Revenue. Market share. Money! It is important that a company continues to generate consistent revenue to survive and thrive. Keep the cogs of industry lubricated. But don’t let someone as earnest as a tax rebate, who would probably get nostalgic over a tax return, be the figure head for your corporate enterprise. This would be like Weyland Yutani promoting a chestburster as their head of public relations. Though I’m confident that Jim Ryan wouldn’t dream of laying an embryo in the chests of it’s consumers, I’m also confident that he would have no idea what that would be in reference too. God, I hate the industry.

Sony. Microsoft. Please Stop!

Okay you two, stop. Just stop. We get it – you’re both incredibly insecure, endowed with too much money, but equipped with a braille like penis. The point has been well and truly made! Let’s get on with producing quality content for your respective machines, rather than showboating for the cheerleaders that just want to relish in this reductive pissing contest, that is just going to end with all assenting juveniles requiring new shoes. This continued pursuit for asset consolidation is only going to further propagate division between the already fractured contingents.

I realise that you are both competitive and proud conglomerates. With institutionalised rivalry that prevents either one of you from backing down. But, for the solidarity of the gaming firmament and my sanity, stop. Watching you two flaunting your respective influences and indulging in your conceited affluence, by acquiring publishers like some entitled aristocrat, compensating for their flaccid endowment is obstinate. Presumably this shopping spree has been instigated to ensure the consolidation of specific assets and prevent the competition from utilising said assets. Unless your competitors want to incur some recompense for the privilege. Not because your intended scheme of appropriating a few thousand acres of protected woodland, as a means for hunting peasants is still regarded as a morally reprehensible act.

Perhaps instead of buying these publishers for the express desire of demonstrating your power, or illustrate your generosity as a billion dollar conglomerate that could help feed and house the homeless, by potentially allowing other platforms to use your titles, for a small incentive, that you perhaps stop buying them. Let these creative minds flourish, uninhibited by the whims of stifling corporate provocation. We don’t need publisher’s redistributed like a quarrelling couple going through an expensive, time consuming divorce. Dividing their once shared resources in an attempt to negotiate some desperate trade deal. Like an estranged father being allocated visitation rights with their children at the weekend.

Whether Sony decides to play nice with Microsoft, by allowing Bungie games to continue distribution on their system. Or if Microsoft extend Sony the same courtesy with their recent acquisitions, one question still remains: how does buying these previously ubiquitous devs, now owned and distributed by major corporation’s, benefit the consumer? Oh, that’s right. They don’t.

The Future Of Gaming…Is Limited?

At my age, sustained domesticity and work commitments, I have to be discerning with my gaming predilection’s. Gone are the day’s of concerted reticence and imposed isolation afforded by adolescents. To indulge in the exploration of some expansive, doom threatened Fantasy world, as an arbiter for moral virtue. With the unyielding resolve to vanquish every living creature that crosses my path, to further propagate my own power. Before inevitably collapsing into a cholesterol induced coma on a detritus of discarded crisp packets. Now I’m lucky if I can engage in a modest bowel movement, without being interrupted by the precipitous needs of my 5 year old that just so happens to need the toilet at the precise moment that I do. As such any reserved chance to game is restricted by the complete lack of time available to me. Being discerning becomes a recreational hazard. Investing your meagre time into a game that just isn’t for you, can be a demoralising thing. But in an age of disposable entertainment, where content is conveniently accessible – but also easily forgotten, finding the right game for yourself should be simple?

Streaming has revolutionised the way in which we engage with entertainment. With Netflix being the genesis that has spawned so many imitators to adopt similar formats. And in the interest of convenience, have completely diluted the experience of watching movies, television and now thanks to the likes of Gamepass and – to a lesser extent PlayStation Now – gaming.

Though I appreciate the convenience, affordability and variety offered by a subscription services. To have an accessible variety of games that satisfy almost any urge, whenever said itch needs scratching is very enticing. But I believe that you can have too much variety. It might well be considered the spice of life, but too much of that spice is going to leave your rectum as irritated as Joss Whedon’s publicist. Sure, you have all of this variety at your immediate disposal, but none of it is special anymore. Just another image in a virtual catalogue. You don’t own these games, merely rent them. The provisional nature of such services means that at any time, your favourite game could be subject to removal. This revolving door policy doesn’t sound particularly liberating to me.

There is of course a certain ambiguity to the concept of game ownership and what that actually implies. You could argue the traditional means of purchasing games, is more of an extended lease than acquisition. But I’d take a physical, tangible item that I can use whenever, rather than an ethereal product that can vanish simply because a contract has expired. I had access to PlayStation Now for a year, and only utilised its service once to play the last of Us 2. Everything I wanted to play was either something I purchased new or already owned.

I realise that this entire article is just me exposing myself as the out of touch, Victor Meldrew that I am. I also understand the irony of that analogy, as most of you probably don’t understand that reference. But services like Gamepass and whatever PlayStation’s belated equivalent ends up being, its not an environment I’m comfortable navigating. With Microsoft again flexing it’s rather sizeable financial muscles, as they continue to monopolise the industry, with the acquisition of Activision only further consolidating their ambition for proprietary dominance. Baiting Sony into acquiring another studio, for the explicit purpose of exclusivity. Thereby fortifying the war of attrition between two companies vying for market share. Once again fostering division between their respective fandoms and their competing corporate preferences. It just leaves you jaded.

The last thing I want to see is cartels using their substantial properties like collateral. With developers becoming commodities for larger, commerce driven conglomerates. And publisher’s like Square, Konami and Capcom used as bargaining chips, in the world’s most lucrative game of poker, solely to promote content to gamers. This isn’t an enviroment that nurtures expression, but gatekeeping. The future of gaming it seems, is limitation.

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But what do you think? Are you happy with the direction of the game industry? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

This Is Why I Don’t Talk To People.

Before the start of the pandemic most reasonable people would deem my social proclivities as being “anti-social”. Now – post pandemic, my introverted persuasions might be considered “socially responsible”. I prefer the latter definition. When it comes to engaging in conversations, that aren’t work related, I’m rather introverted. Averting eye contact. Giving one word responses to others anecdotes. Just radiating a discourteous apathy many people find ignorant. This inherent verbal anaemia is an affliction that has only progressed as I’ve gotten older. But being in a committed relationship with someone far more gregarious, with a daughter who could natter total nonsense for hours on end, does require compromise on my part. So I often find myself under the duress of my partners extroverted whims and enduring the hospitality of occasional acquaintances.

Take for instance last weekend. My daughter attended the Birthday of a 3 year old. At only 5 herself, my daughter couldn’t very well visit without adult supervision, despite my repeated insistence that those apron strings will have to be cut sooner or later. The party of this particular toddler was, like most middle class families, held at a village hall. Decorated in bunting, balloons, inflatable depiction of “Happy Birthday” draped across the expansive windows and a bouncy castle hired for a short period to provide a distraction for the kids and necessary respite for the parents. My daughter couldn’t have been happier, cavorting with children half her size that she could command like some sugar addled dictator. While my partner engaged with anyone that would listen, I did what I always do in these obligatory social situations, by retreating to the farthest reaches of the room with my head down, a novelty paper plate in hand, devouring cocktail sausages, pizza and cake. A natural scowl creasing my features, that acts as a natural deterrent against any genial guest that feels remotely compelled to introduce themselves with a clumsy attempt to relate about the struggles of parenting.

Everything was going fine. My daughter was having fun organising her own tiny militia. My partner was scheming some alternative social gathering to inflict further deliberate misery of me. And I had successfully negotiated my way to the modest buffet without having to engage with anybody, past the cordial nods and brief, barely audible pleasantries. As we neared the end of the party, watching my daughter relishing the fragment of power she had acquired, I noticed something to my left. More like a sensation than something visual. A figure, stout yet commanding. Like a smurf that had served two tour’s in Afghanistan. Materialising at my side as if he had somehow willed himself into existence. A notable glint in his eye as if he had been waiting sometime to say something.

“Maximus, Meridious, Decimus”. I paused. Hesitant to respond in a manner that might provoke further elaboration. Hoping he had mistaken me for someone else. I turned, finally acknowledging a man I had never seen before. He looked at me expectantly, as if a context had already been established. “Sorry” I responded, confused and concerned in equal measure. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what that’s from” he replied exasperated. “I know the quote” I retorted, “But its “Maximus. Decimus. Meridious”. You could see a faint glimmer of agitation in his demeanour before he said “Yeah, but, you know what I’m talking about?”. At this point I didn’t want to say yes. I didn’t want to say anything. I just wanted this conversation to end so I could immediately discard the whole sordid event with a collection of memories I’d already erased. But he was persistent.

“You do one” he insisted. “I’m good with movies”. Realising that I would have to collude in this man’s fantasy, if I was to stand any chance of escaping, I capitulated. “Okay” I began. “I’ll choose an easy one”. Testing the waters to the depths of his cinematic knowledge. Having taken a moment to compose and most importantly, recite the dialogue accurately, I continued. “How about ‘We’re gonna need a bigger boat'”. A vacant, brain dead look emerged across his face. As if someone had switched off his ventilator while he was urinating. A balloon slowly drifted past us like tumbleweed. He insisted however that with multiple choice, like “Who wants to be a millionaire”, he would get it. So having demonstrating a keen intellectual wit, he deduced that “Alien” “Forrest Gump” and “The Matrix” were a devious ruse on my part. And in fact my personal favourite movie “Jaws” was indeed the correct answer. “Badly acted isn’t it” he confessed, without a hint of irony.

With his ignorant assessment and continued slander towards “Jaws” I’d suffered as much as I could handle. That feeling was seemingly mutual, as this still unnamed assailant look set to finalise our diminishing liaison, by posing one last probing question: Xbox or PlayStation? I steadied my nerves, prepared for the inevitable opposition as I exclaimed, with great relish; PlayStation. With that our brief association was at an end and my sanity restored.

In summary: Don’t speak to people. Particularly those that deliver an unsolicited, misquoted reference to very recognisable movie. Insult the acting in one of favourite films. Give very objective opinions about matters that are very subjective. Before declaring that our already declining friendship has been compromised, simply because I use a different platform to play my games.

I hate people.

Why I Probably Won’t Be Playing The Elder Scrolls VI.

Since Microsoft’s acquisition of Bethesda, the industry has been scrutinising precisely how Xbox will integrate the studio into its diverse habitat. As a predominantly PlayStation user, I’ve personally been concerned about exclusivity. Specifically will the “Elder Scrolls VI” be a purely Xbox dedicated property? Though there’s been no official confirmation, rather a broad road-map, there’s sufficient evidence that indicates a return to Tamriel might not be a viable destination for Sony.

During Microsoft’s celebratory welcome of Bethesda to the Xbox firmament, Phil “The Power!” Spencer made an oblique promise regarding their matrimonial alliance, stating that all Bethesda games, not immediately contracted to other utilities, would be available where ever Gamepass existed. So even though upcoming Bethesda shooter “Deathloop’s” timed exclusivity with PlayStation will be honoured, there’s a strong implication that Elder Scrolls 6, as well as many of Bethesda’s other prodigious assets won’t be.

Despite all the pontificating, the continued bluster concerning the advocacy for a more autonomous domain to be expended, it’s apparent that Microsoft is as supportive of exclusives as Sony are. When you are spending $7.5 billion to acquire a studio that retains the “Elder Scrolls” and “Fallout” in their extensive portfolio, it makes sense to curtail its exposure beyond the Xbox brand. It’s the same reason people own a PlayStation. I mean if you’re buying a PlayStation and aren’t playing an over the shoulder, third-person shooter, then what are you playing?!

You have to commend them. They have the substantial resources, as well as the gall to just simply “buy” a major game developer. Something that Sony just isn’t capable of emulating. This is also a compliment to Sony, that Microsoft had to spend billions of dollars to stay competitive with them. It also creates much needed competition in a stagnating market, because the last thing consumers need is a 1 company industry that can dictate and regulate gaming to suite their selfish, corporate needs.

Am I a little bitter about this acquisition? Sure. I adored Skyrim, in all of its mired purity. And the knowledge that a decade long wait for a follow-up to Skyrim is potentially in doubt, just seems so cruel. This isn’t a deliberate attempt to abstain from a “rival” console because of some vengeful conquest. Nor is about brand loyalty, or some resentment towards the “Elder Scrolls” because of its absence from PlayStation, but one of finance and logistics. I already own a PS5, an expensive hobby tempered by domestic responsibilities, that negates much of my fleeting income. So with neither the money nor the space for another console, certainly not for the privilege of 1 game, if the Elder Scrolls is destined for a permanent PlayStation sabbatical, then sadly for me I’ll have to fight mud-crabs elsewhere.

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What do you guys think? Have you ever bought a console purely for 1 exclusive? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.