Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The Trials of Diablo III

I got off to a rocky start with Diablo III. I had planned on buying it ever since it was announced, even though I had essentially missed the boat with Diablo II. Then a friend, who will remain nameless, convinced me not to get it for some stupid reason. Then again I had my own reservations. I am a huge fan of Blizzard's work, but I was not really jazzed about the "Always Online" requirement, so I figured I could give this one a pass, or at least wait for it to drop in price. Then several other friends convinced me the game was awesome, and the initial friend announced that he had caved and bought the game anyway. So after searching for the game in several sold-out stores, I eventually bought the bastard and tried to install it.

A cool cover, but nothing groundbreaking. So all in all, 
a pretty good representation of the game.

Imagine my surprise when Battlenet (Blizzard's online platform/network/ubiquitous multiplayer thing) informed me that an authenticator had been added to my account. An authenticator, for those who don't know, is a little piece of plastic and computer wizardry that generates a key-code which you need to log into a secure network. It is supposed to provide an extra level of security to your account. I have never used an authenticator, and I never received an email notifying me that somebody else had tried to add one to my account. It had been a long time since I played a Blizzard game as multiplayer Starcraft II always struck me as a terrifying prospect, and I lost interest in Cataclysm shortly after hitting the level cap. So it had been about a year since I touched my Battlenet account.

The nightmare explanation I concocted in my head was that somebody had hacked me, and then using their leet haxxor skillz, added an authenticator to lock me out of my account. In retrospect it seems stupid and far fetched, but when I checked WoW armory to see if my characters still existed and no data came up, I feared the worst. After spending an hour and twenty minutes on hold, Blizzard's tech support picked up my call as I was literally about to hang up (thankfully my phone's touch screen was being screwy).

The actual, official explanation for why a phantom authenticator was added to my account is "We have no idea. Maybe there was a problem with your cache?" This explanation actually disappointed me for several reasons. Glad as I am that I was not hacked, I like the irony of a pirate leveraging security technology to lock people out of their account. You hear about them doing shit like this all the time, and frankly, it makes for a good story. The other thing that bugs me is that I never really got a straight answer as to why this happened. I have never used a blizzard product on this machine, and I have never even used it to visit battlenet in any way, shape, or form. The tech support agent (who was very polite), said she would try refreshing something on her end, and that solved the problem. A less charitable, more irascible person might even be tempted to conclude that this "error" was a deliberate attempt to advertise the authenticator. I don't think this is the case. It was a frustrating experience that did very little to sell me on the authenticator and Blizzard can frankly come up with better ways to make you want to buy their products. But still it's weird, and it makes me wonder in a bad way.

So, after I liberated my Battlenet account, I tried to actually play the game. I should tell you that my current internet situation is unusually bad. I live in a grand old neighborhood with awful wiring, lots of zoning and historical preservation laws, and very limited options as far as ISPs go. My internet is much worse than your average gamer's. It is worse than the average person in my generation.

I will concede that Blizzard's expectation that people will always play online really isn't that outlandish in this day and age. But it does screw over quite a few people who can't meet that expectation. And it begs a question: "How much bullshit am I willing to put up with to play a really awesome game?" It's a question that is teased frequently on Reddit's videogame board, and it doesn't have a simple answer. For most people, games are a social experience and this is especially true of an online-exclusive title like Diablo 3. I proudly drew the line at Origin, when EA was pitching Battlefield 3 and later, The Old Republic. But Origin really isn't terribly dissimilar to Steam; a platform I have grown to love (the ludicrous deals offered annually are a big part of that romance). And if Blizzard were to build Battlenet in a similar way, I'm not so sure I will be able to stand firm.

There were a couple nights where I was able to coax a decent performance out of the game despite my internet difficulties. And when it plays like it is supposed to, it is a helluva lot of fun. I'm still only on the second act, and I'm playing as a Monk to start out with. This game feels a lot more fun than Diablo II ever did to me.

I'm sure some people will mourn the loss of skill points, but I think this new system facilitates more customization and experimentation. It also makes it impossible to "break" your character, which was not only possible, but very likely in Diablo II, especially at high level play. I like that you unlock a new "thing," be it a rune, a passive or some other ability, every time you level up. I know it's an artificial reward structure. I know its deliberately addictive and more than a little manipulative. But that's why I play RPGs. I like getting new powers and abilities as I go that change things. I also like the simple 'click to unleash hell' gameplay. I also enjoy the health drops as opposed to constantly chugging potions. The new energy restoration methods make for more

It isn't a perfect game. I find Leah to be a bland and incredibly annoying ally (which is perplexing because the quirky Enchantress and roguish Scoundrel are actually amusing, if archetypal company). The plot thus far, hasn't been terribly shocking (and having correctly guessed Belial's identity right off the bat, I don't really have high hopes for the rest of the yarn). Also, my friend pointed out that the in the face of the auction house, crafting is a remarkably costly and disproportionately unrewarding endeavor.

So far, I think I have broken even on the Fun to Frustration scale. But this is a very big game, and I may revisit it after I've had a chance to sample some of the other classes.

Friday, May 25, 2012

I Am Sherlocked

Where television is concerned, my tastes have always tended toward animation, but especially so as of late. Legend of Korra and Young Justice both feature gorgeous animation, smart plots for anyone (and young audiences in particular), and fantastic world-building. But I'm not talking about them today. No, I'm talking about The BBC's Sherlock.

I can sense skepticism. Another rendition of Sherlock Holmes? The prototypical detective character, with no benefit of noir styling, gritty realism or clever legal proceedings? No special hooks? No magic, or outer space battles? Yes. That Sherlock. Guy Ritchie's sherlock movies were both fun, but Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss's take on the character blows them out of the water. The writing is funny, the cases have been cured of their more outlandish and obvious solutions, without losing the crucial element of all detective fiction; a presentation that keeps you guessing along with the detective and puzzles that are just on the edge of solvable. 

Again, Downy Jr and Jude Law are lots of fun, but Bennedict Cummerbach (quite possibly the most British name of anyone or anything ever) and Martin Freeman deliver peerless, nuanced performances of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. Freeman provides the heart of the show, as a good-intentioned romantic with boyish enthusiasm and a saint's patience for Holmes' sociopathic tendencies. Cummerbatch distills Holme's other-wordly qualities into an alien, yet enigmatic mystique, in addition to displaying a surprising range. Holmes frequently disguises himself in plain sight by adopting different personalities, and Cummerbatch does a great job of pulling them off. He also routinely acts like a complete bastard.

Consequently, I suspect this incarnation of Sherlock has learned a few tricks from House, which was itself, a modernization of Conan Doyle's character married to a doctor drama. Not the newer version of House; the mercurial jerk who takes ludicrous risks and needlessly abuses people just to get a rise out of the audience. No, this Holmes is like the earlier version of House; a man who is not actively malicious so much as he is devoid of empathy and completely motivated by the boredom of a brilliant mind. This Holmes fires pistols, plays a frenzied violin and doses up on nicotine patches (instead of coke, which is admittedly a tiny bit of a cop-out) to keep away the boredom.

The music in the series, from the opening credits, to Holmes' 
whimsical, recurring theme is also spectacular. 

Another thing to love about this series is that it is incredibly media-savvy. Little shreds of text pop up on screen to reveal text messages, computer passwords and other forms of digital correspondence. Furthermore, they use this mixed-media motif to modernize the character himself. Similar fragments of text pop up to illustrate Holmes amazing powers of observation and deduction, subtly likening him to a machine. One of the BBC's advertising bumps boasts that Sherlock's brain "has more apps than an iPhone." It's a much blunter way to draw the comparison, but apt all the same. Ha! Get it? Apt? Apps? Oh to hell with you, I'm hilarious.

The single smartest invention of the show may be the introduction of Molly; a forensic pathologist who is head-over-heals for Holmes, but routinely ignored, belittled and otherwise marginalized by him. This is not in lieu of Addler (who makes a brilliant appearance in the second season) but in addition to her. It allows the writers to explore the various ways in which a traditional romance simply wouldn't work for Holmes, the man with a machine for a mind. 

The show also tackles the undertones of implicit homosexuality between the original Watson and Holmes with wit and winks at the inevitable shipping fanficking community. Watson, as I mentioned, is a romantic, and while he does love Sherlock, it is like a brother (a "bro" even), and not sexually or romantically driven. Watson is constantly correcting peoples assumptions, and self-conscious about the appearance of their relationship without being straying into the waters of homophobia. Holmes, meanwhile, just doesn't give a damn about how people perceive him. He is truly asexual, like I suspect Conan Doyle's original character was intended to be. Somehow, that is a creative decision that is more refreshing now than it was in the Edwardian Era, seeing as we need to "hook up" everybody with everyone else like they're goddamn constructicons. 

To come completely clean, I actually haven't read much of the original Holmes mysteries. But my wife has, and she assures me that each modernized case is faithful to the spirit of a holmes classic. The point? Even if you know nothing of Sherlock Holmes, this series will stun, amaze, and utterly entertain. And if you do have fond memories of Conan Doyle's mysteries, there is even more to love about it.


Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Competing Fantasies Concerning Intellectual Property


My mother is an intellectual property lawyer. She has worked for one of the big Hollywood studios for over two decades now, dealing with television, film, physical merchandising and online entertainment. She is good at her job and as I grew up she consistently contradicted every stereotype typifying lawyers as slick-haired lying shysters. In fact, her primary occupation to this day can be best characterized as keeping other people honest. Her work put me through private high school, college and graduate school. Intellectual property law has given my family a charmed life.

At the same time, I came of age along with the internet and internet piracy. Given my upbringing, it was initially very easy to condemn peer-to-peer file sharing, illegal streaming of copy-righted material, and DRM cracks as harmful practices with no redeeming value to society. I was very comfortable with the notion of pirates being bad guys. As I matured however, curiosity, greed and other stranger circumstances led me to participate in each of these activities, and my views have slowly changed. Piracy can teach people things about technology. It can create subcultures that are much more nuanced and benign than the entertainment industry gives them credit for. In rare circumstances, it can even benefit studios, record labels, and software publishers. These benefits are significant enough that it is time to seriously reconsider the way copy-rights work (or fail to work) in today’s increasingly digital world.

That is an obvious claim cheaply made, however. When the collective internet went into furor over SOPA and PIPA this past winter, it became painfully clear that Hollywood and the pirates have some truly alien notions about each other, and how they ought to adapt to one another. It was immediately apparent that the people behind the legislation did not understand how the internet piracy works. Worse yet, those legislations failed to appreciate the scope and general significance of the internet to an entire generation of people and businesses. At the same time, these hated pieces of legislation whipped pirates and copy-right reformists into an absurdly self-righteous, militant frenzy that is equally ignorant of how the entertainment industry works and why it is still culturally significant.

The common problem at the root of these delusions is that the entertainment industry and the software pirates fail to understand the medium of their opponent. Both parties focus on the content being stolen and produced, rather than the actual practices of theft and production and the value systems that motivate them. In this essay, I detail the three most prevalent fanciful fantasies of the entertainment industry and those of the pirates and copy-right reformists.

Entertainment Fantasy 1: Piracy is a cancer that can be cured with DRM and Legislation.
Reality: Digital piracy is here to stay, and it will not regress to pre-digital levels. The internet is not only too big, but too mercurial to be comprehensively policed in a practical and humane way.  Even if it were possible to create legislation or DRM that could comprehensively prevent piracy, the terms of those systems would have to fundamentally subvert the rights and privacy of all those who use it; pirates and innocent alike. SOPA and PIPA did not provoke wide-spread condemnation due to a vocal minority of pirates; they threatened benign uses of the World Wide Web in ways that were obvious to the average, avid internet user.

To begin with, granting corporations the right to request government blockage of IPs carried a tremendous potential for abuse. SOPA and PIPA foisted the legal onus of defending content onto the internet sites. This is harmful at both the small and large scale.  Bloggers, and other small, hobbyist websites simply do not have the time, money or legal prowess to compete with an entertainment studio’s accusation of piracy and government mandated IP suspension. Even more damning, SOPA and PIPA would not require the government to obtain a warrant, or even provide a significant body of proof from the entertainment companies before issuing an IP blockage. Consequently, one can easily see how a news conglomerate, movie studio, record label, software publisher, or traditional publisher could abuse such a system.

The implications of such legislation are even more damaging when they are applied to larger entities. Sites like YouTube, Twitter, social networks, and wikis cannot keep track of all their users, let alone review all of the content that is submitted. Under SOPA and PIPA, those sites would not only be compelled to remove copy-righted content (as they already are under current law) but liable for damages stemming from said content. This would force the sites to review all content before making it available on the web. The spirit of spontaneity that has made these sites uniquely compelling would not only be compromised, but altogether prevented by that legislation. Furthermore, it is inevitable that some amount of copy-righted content would still slip through the cracks, and these sites will be fiscally punished for the misconduct of their users.

DRM is similarly undesirable and unviable, but for different reasons. From the perspective of an honest consumer, Digital Rights Management can (and often does) pose barriers to enjoyment and value to legitimate consumers. Worse yet, it does nothing to staunch pirates who inevitably circumvent those systems altogether. DRM does function as a limited deterrent by preventing less-tech-savvy consumers from pirating movies, music and games in obvious ways. But as the general population grows increasingly competent with the internet and digital media, the return on investment of developing new, increasingly draconian forms of DRM will shrink.

I am not suggesting that Hollywood give up or roll-over. But the studios and labels need to recognize that piracy has seeped into the groundwater and that it is here to stay. Instead of preventing potential piracy, the studios must look at how to monetize pirates, or reclaim customers from piratical practices. The most obvious way to combat piracy is to make spending money convenient. This includes digital distribution, but it also entails adding value to products that is difficult or impossible to obtain by simply copying computer code. Social interaction is one such type of value. Many people who stream copyrighted material do so for the social interaction rather than viewing the material itself. Watching a film streamed over the internet facilitates conversation and commentary in ways that are prohibited in theaters, and impossible through current television interfaces.

Entertainment Fantasy 2: Piracy is identical to physical theft.
Reality: Copying computer data is fundamentally different than illegally confiscating a physical object. To pretend otherwise, as per the “You wouldn’t steal a Car” ads of 2004, is both naïve and  deliberately misleading. To begin with, physical theft is often accompanied with or facilitated by physical violence. Downloading a music CD does not physically hurt anybody or threaten them with a physical weapon. Furthermore, physical theft deprives content publishers of material that was costly to produce. When a file is copied or streamed, the studio maintains possession of the digital file which can still be sold through digital of physical channels. These caveats do not justify acts of piracy, but it deals a different type of economic damage than traditional theft does.

Finally, many pirates claim to “sample” content before making actual purposes. This argument is usually something to the effect of “I bought this CD after pirating it, and I would not have bought it if I did not have the opportunity to try it for free.” Admittedly, this justification comes across as a convenient and over-used excuse. Subsequent claims that piracy can drive sales are even more suspect. But this “try before you buy” mentality does exist in digital piracy and it is far more prevalent than shoplifters returning to retailers to pay for boosted games, movies and music that they have enjoyed.

Entertainment Fantasy 3: Piracy is solely motivated by greed and is culturally bankrupt.
Reality: This fantasy makes it much easier for the entertainment industry to condemn practices that are ill-understood. Worse yet, it serves as a justification for continued, willful ignorance. Refusing to think about why and how people pirate not only results ineffective DRM and dangerous legislation, it makes Hollywood seem dumb and petulant. Greed is a not a negligible factor in the piracy equation, but it is only one piece of the puzzle.

Many people pirate movies and music because they are not released through legitimate channels in their country. Other times, people download illegally translated copies of movies because no official localization exists. Hollywood’s distribution channels are impressive and pervasive, but it has yet to cater to the entire world. Admittedly, this does not provide any justification for first-world piracy, but it is an element of the piracy equation that Hollywood systematically ignores. They have nothing to gain from acknowledging it.

The entire world over, pirates can also derive numerous benefits from the actual practice of piracy. To begin with, piracy provides learning experiences at the very least, and compelling puzzles at best. When I was younger, I pirated dozens of ROM files for the Super Nintendo and Game Boy Advance emulators. The time I spent finding the files and setting up emulators paled in comparison to the time I spent playing my pilfered titles. Tinkering with software and hunting down files taught me a lot about research, and how sprites, controls and technology work. I never tried to circumvent DRM but I have met people who have, and they describe the experience as solving a very specific type of puzzle. Again, being educational does not mean that piracy is right, or that it ought to be encouraged. But that quality is valuable enough that it warrant more careful consideration than open, unqualified contempt.
 
Finally, piracy can facilitate unique cultural and communal interactions. One such example is streaming movies. Conceptually, streaming a movie that has already left theatres is no more egregious than inviting a group of friends over to watch the same film on DVD. The internet has changed the way people socialize; agoraphobes, or even the socially anxious and awkward often feel more at home in an internet chat room than they would in another person’s home. There is a temptation to treat anonymous interaction as something inherently insidious, and it is admittedly risky. But it can also be benign. Again, this form of piracy is not driven by greed or even activism, but a desire for communal interaction that is not supported through existing channels of interaction.

Piracy Fantasy 1: Hollywood is solely motivated by greed and is culturally bankrupt.
Many piracy proponents, particularly members of the Swedish torrent site, The Pirate Bay, have spoken out against Hollywood, and demonized it as a greed-driven, creatively destitute manipulation machine. These proponents of radical copy-right reform frame writers, directors, actors, musicians, producers, as vampiric fat-cats that subsist off of royalties, rather than working to constantly innovate. They further vilify paying audiences as cud-chewing sheeple who must be freed from the matrix or done away with in violent revolution.

It’s difficult to comprehend where to begin. The most patently idiotic implication of this line of thinking is that creative control and ownership are equitable to greed. A person who downloads some data ought to be entitled to the same fiscal and creative rights as the people who spent months, or years of their lives creating the initial artifact. The further implication is that the truly creative people will be sufficiently rewarded by virtue of their reputation and public charity. Admittedly, such a business model can sustain certain creative practices. Several web-comic creators, most notably Jeph Jacques of Questionable Content, and Jerry Holkins and Mike Krahulik of Penny-Arcade, have proven that fans will eagerly support endeavors of sufficient quality. But when the costs of making a film like Inception are weighed against writing, drawing and uploading a three to five panel JPEG on the internet, the absurdity of this suggestion begins to become apparent.

The Pirate Bay would likely assert that we don’t need blockbusters in any medium. They might argue that the entertainment industry has lost its way, if they even acknowledge that it was ever a valuable institution to begin with. They would have us disregard the legacy of technological experimentation and advancement that movie making, audio production, and game development have yielded, or simply admit that the time of those giants have now passed and that they should be put to pasture. A new and glorious renaissance of independent art will resume once the corporate goliaths have been slain by the slings of piracy. Even if we are to buy into the dubious assertion that entertainment has lost its way, who is to say that the theoretical hacktivist auteurs that follow will produce more thought-provoking work? Is YouTube the new paradigm we are supposed to be embracing?

The second assertion is even harder to swallow. The millions of people who admire movie stars, writers and musicians, the passionate fans who line up for midnight releases for the latest sequel in a beloved franchises, the people who believe in paying a predetermined price for a meaningful artistic experience; these people are all wrong, or severely misled. Radical pirates believe that all information, and imagined information in particular, ought to be given away. The question this begs is who ought to be paid? At what point can a creative person expect to be compensated for their work? If you are allowed to completely “sample” my novel, or song, or movie and find it insufficient, am I supposed to thank you for your time and lack of patronage?

Piracy Fantasy 2: Piracy isn’t actually hurting the entertainment industry that much.
Pirates are quick to point out that the studios, record labels and game developers have largely remained in the black throughout the recession, or at the very least, suffered less red ink than many other industries. But the brick and mortar theaters and retailers that support these giants are going under at an alarming rate. Those that remain have to raise their prices, further diminishing their enduring audiences. Before we discuss how the entertainment conglomerates may adapt, I would like to look at the implications of brick and mortar death; a meaningful cultural change that radical pirates are willing to write off as an inevitability.

There is value in going to a location and purchasing a good, or service. Physical goods, and services like concerts and feature films, must reach a certain level of completion and quality before they are distributed. This practice may persist even if we completely switch to digital channels of distribution, but my suspicion is that incomplete, iterative, or serial narratives will become more prevalent. We may start to see ‘betas’ of movies, music and books as well as software and games. This notion introduces new opportunities from the perspective of participatory cultural, but it also discounts the value of craftsmanship in entertainment. There is a lot to be said for a cohesive, and decisive incarnation of a story, song or game. These artifacts must “work,” like a completed system.

Furthermore, there are other values to going to a physical location. Notions such as going to a specific place for a unique experience, leaving the house and risking random interpersonal interaction, and browsing the physical selection of a store may sound sentimental or antiquated. This does not dissolve their value. If we do away with physical stores, we truncate a huge variety of social experiences that have persisted throughout history. Pirates often argue that movie theaters and bookstores will still likely persist in some limited capacity. They will not only be limited in prevalence however, but in regard as well. Going out to see a movie will likely be seen as a curiosity or eccentricity. This diminished demand will likely yield increased prices. Consequently, activities that were once communal and popular, will be reserved for the affluent or backward.

Piracy Fantasy 3: The entertainment industry merely needs to adapt to digital distribution.
Reality: According to soft-ware pirates, superior service and digital delivery would supposedly staunch piracy enough for the entertainment industry to stay afloat. This is largely true for the game industry, which uses digital methods of production. It might also work for music production. But it is simply absurd to assume that television and movie industries that depend on expensive analog production methods can easily transition to digital methods and recoup the costs of production. Both of these mediums have a legacy of physicality that cannot be short-cut by digital distribution methods.

Let’s consider the costs associated with training an actor for a role in an action movie. For the sake of argument, we will assume that she is a no-name, and will not require the mammoth salary and manifold benefits currently afforded to stars like Johnny Depp and Halle Berry. First, the actress will need to get in shape for the role, necessitating a trainer and probably a nutritionist. Next she will need to learn martial arts, requiring another trainer. Next, she will need a stunt team, as you average actor will not be able to pick up enough skills in the time it takes to produce a film involving jumping out of buildings, dodging explosions, and participating in numerous hand-to-hand fights. These dangerous activities require medical personnel to be present on set, when something inevitably goes wrong. We also need make-up artists and costume designers, those these roles can admittedly be stretched across the rest of the cast as well as our star. These requirements are just the beginning, for a single star. Some of these effects might be exchanged with digital special effects, but this will likely have a meaningful (and not necessarily positive) effect on the film’s aesthetics.

Ten dollar digital downloads will not recoup the revenue lost from the dissolution of physical box offices and Blu-Ray sales. Furthermore, revenue from other physical merchandise will suffer from the lack of impulse buys associated with home media sales. Finally, to protect losses from continuing piracy, the studios will need to develop compelling digital assets to drive legitimate sales, incurring additional costs.

Conclusion
Hollywood cannot secure lasting economic stability from the threat of piracy until it earnestly seeks to understand the non-economic values and material conditions that motivate piratical practices. Conversely, pro-peer-to-peer and copyright reform movements cannot be endorsed or taken seriously until they move beyond superficial and trendy notions rebellion. The most pressing delusion that clouds both entities perception of each other is the preoccupation with content rather than the material realities that define their culture and practices.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Avengers Disassembled

Let me get the obvious out of the way first: Avengers is very good. If you like superhero movies, you’ve probably already seen it and if you haven’t yet, you should. Even if you haven’t seen the individual superhero flicks that essentially serve as advanced promotions for the film, the movie is surprisingly coherent and satisfying. Even Marvel-indifferent Whedon-devotees should give it a shot, because the script drips with his trademark wit and style.

Earth's mightiest heroes indeed. I don't envy the bastard who tries to pull off 
a live-action Justice League movie.


Like his run on Uncanny X-Men, Whedon successfully opens up a beloved superhero team to a broader audience. Instead of watering characters down or simplifying their mythos, he intensifies each personality and establishes the key tensions and relationships that define the team. People that haven’t read Avenger’s comics, or those who just don’t “get” the Avengers, will likely understand the team’s appeal after watching this film. I think that is the highest praise anybody can attain in the still-young superhero genre.

The strongest arguments I have heard against Whedon’s creative style is that he is A) too witty for his own good, and B) most of his characters all speak with the same voice. The former argument complains that “people don’t actually talk like that.” It is an appeal to realism that I find unappetizing, and which would also clash with his chosen milieu of action-heavy escapist fantasy. The second argument has more teeth to it. There are episodes of Buffy, Angel and Dollhouse that evoke the sensation of one writer having an elaborate conversation with himself for his own entertainment, as opposed to defining character’s personalities or moving the plot forward. In Firefly, Uncanny and Avengers though, there is a definite clash of disparate personalities. Archetypal personalities admittedly, but ones that stay true to their source material.

Whedon can’t take all the credit of course. Evans, Downey, Johansson, Hemsworth, and Jackson are well within their established comfort zones, but they make the most of it and deliver crowd pleasing performances. Mark Ruffalo stands out by bringing some nuance to the Hulk, and while I must confess that I haven’t seen either of the two attempted Hulk movies or the much-loved Hulk television series, I can’t imagine another actor doing better as the not-so-gentle giant. Tom Hiddleston works much better as a villain, and as Loki specifically, than he did last year’s lackluster not-quite-blockbuster, Thor.

The cast is a little too big for its own good, though. Cobie Smulders  (AKA Robin from How I Met Your Mother), does not receive much in the way of memorable lines as S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Maria Hill, and she is handsomely trounced in the bad-ass hot chick category by Johansson’s Black Widow. Jeremy Renner spends most of the film as a brain-washed baddy, and also loses out where one-liners are concerned. But two weak roles in such a huge movie is shooting way above par for the course.

The most spectacular thing about the Avenger’s movie is that it could have gone wrong in so many ways. Yeah, Marvel made all the right moves, from teasing the team-up in each of the Iron Man, Captain America and Thor films, to hiring Joss to write and direct, to sparing no expenses on production and promotion. But bigger movies than this have easily been derailed by big egos, rushed release schedules, last minute re-writes and every other goddamn thing that possibly go wrong. Avengers not only manages to pick up the disparate threads of four very different super heroes, it makes them greater than the sum of their parts. Thor is better written and more entertaining than he was in Thor. Tony Stark moves back towards hero on the asshole-to-hero spectrum. Captain America is a much more compelling leader now that he is in charge of other well-established heroes. For the same reason, more is at stake for Bruce Banner now that he is surrounded by other heroes instead of a bunch of potential victims.

So here’s the problem. Where do they go from here? How are they going to make Iron Man 3 seem compelling by comparison? Is anybody actually excited about Thor 2? Even if Marvel skips ahead to Avengers 2 (which they won’t), where can they go with it? The cast is already huge, so unless they start killing heroes off with a vengeance (which they won’t), they can’t realistically expand the team’s roster, or everybody will only get two minutes of screen time. They also can’t make the movie longer, because 2 hours and 23 minutes is already pushing the envelope for a visually exhausting action-heavy superhero epic. And who do you turn to for a villain? The after-credits teaser have already answered that question by proposing Thanos, but how can they make Thanos threaten the world in a more interesting way than the first film’s alien invasion? Incorporating the character in a way that he can be believably beaten, and still threaten the entire planet Earth at once is a perilous balancing act in and of itself.

I guess it’s a testament to the movie that I am already puzzling out how they will hash out the sequel. It's going to be a tough act to follow for superhero fans.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Prescription Drugs, Digital Media and Soft Programming

The use of drugs as a form of human programming is a favorite trope of speculative fiction. The denizens of Alduos Huxley’s genetically stratified Brave New World are kept complacent by a euphoria-inducing pill called ‘soma.’ More recently, Joss Whedon explored concepts of indoctrination and exploitation in his series Dollhouse, where entire personalities are literally loaded into human dolls through a combination of bio-chemical meddling and neurological inscription. Like all dystopias, these are both warnings by way of caricature. The programmatic potential of systematic drug-use is obviously exaggerated. Our current understanding of chemistry, biology and psychology is thankfully too limited and fallible to code a person’s behavior with the same precision as a computer.

Consequently, prescription drugs modify our behavior in a far more subtle and complex manner. People who take a prescription for one condition often need a second prescription to reach the desired outcome. For example, Mood Stabilizers are often paired with anti-depressants to prevent dangerous mood swings. In other cases, prescriptions require people to come up with coping strategies to deal with side effects. A person taking a pill causing dry mouth might start to carry a water bottle with her everywhere.

This leads to a type of second-order behavioral adjustment and habit formation I refer to as “soft programming.” Soft programming does not exist in a binary with more traditional types of programming, but rather on a continuum. When there is a direct correlation between technological interaction and desired behavior with a minimum of unintended side-effects, programming can be described as ‘hard.’ Examples of harder programming include computer programming (particularly at more fundamental levels like binary and assembly code), anesthetization, knock-out gas, and traffic signals. Examples of softer programming include psychoactive prescriptions, reward structures (like sales commissions and point evaluations), social networking sites and text corrections. Soft-programming is not only negotiable, but inherently collaborative, unstable and contextually contingent.

In this essay, I will present examples of soft programming that exist in prescriptions, and modern digital media, and how effects of these two different technologies often parallel each other.

The soft programming that occurs with most prescriptions does not actually begin with a psychological condition, but with advertising. In 1997, pharmaceutical giant Pfizer ushered in the modern era of direct to consumer marketing with the help of former senator and presidential candidate Bob Dole in their advertisement of Viagra. The senator would urge television viewers to over-come their shyness and talk to their doctors about getting the little blue pill. Anti-depressants Prozac and Zoloft were soon to follow. Decongestants like Claritin and Zyrtec were next in line. Then came the sleep aids like Ambien and Lunesta. Now, heart medications are being marketed on television, accompanied by grave warnings about diseases and conditions that exhibit no visible symptoms with an implicit “Until it is too late.”

All of these advertisements begin by presenting viewers with a choice: continue living life undesirably, or start medication. Perhaps the best example of what the prescription drug represents as a technological medium lies with anti-depressant commercials, whose broadly drawn questions like “Are you sleeping irregularly?” or “Have you not felt like yourself lately?” With the publicly advertised prescription drug, the consumer is invited to invent his ideal self, regardless of the limitations and constraints of his actual self. Living with impotence, or sadness become lifestyle choices in the face of pharmaceutical intervention. A prescription is the reification of a diagnosis.

Of course, the majority of soft programming that results from prescriptions stems from the physiological interactions of the drugs themselves. These chemical changes can make people feel happy or more functional. They may make them hopelessly dependent on an external resource. They may also incite side-effects which force the prescribed to gradually learn the ebb and tide of their dosage, and devise second-order coping strategies that allow them to function more efficiently. Sometimes one drug necessitates several others. In each of these processes, there is an undercurrent of refinement and specialized adjustment. In theory and intention, drugs help people live life according to a design that runs contrary to nature.

One way to think of soft programming is as a type of automatic mask, or filter that affects behavior. Once a psychoactive drug is taken, it serves as a constant filter, automatically adjusting the way the user thinks about and responds to the world, rather than inserting specific thoughts into the users head, as per Sci-fi mind control. This is similar to the way the smart phones text auto-corrections compensate for our individual flaws, and nudge us toward perfection, or at the very least, a sort of agreeable universal standardization. The aggressive corrections away from vulgarity may strike people as the most obvious form of soft-programming that occurs with the iPhone’s auto-correct, and there is something of the anti-utopia about it. When taken to its conceptual extreme, we can imagine a society slipping down the slope of censorship, where our benevolent smart phones first refuse to let us swear, and then start censoring every potentially offensive phrase.

These tame corrections can be considered as extensions of existing social norms however, and they are less fascinating than other subtler implications stemming from auto-correction. Auto-correction can be repurposed to serves as auto-completion. Texters typing “nourishment,” in their iPhones need only get so far as the “m” before they can hit the spacebar to produce the completed word. Consequently, there are circumstances where slower, or even less accurate texters will be able to complete words faster than more precise texters. Deliberate misuse can be leveraged for expediency, and deficiency becomes a means of empowerment.

A similar dynamic of soft-programming characterizes the dynamic between people with attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and stimulant medications. While sufferers of ADHD are stereotyped as hyperactive, their disorder is paradoxically treated with stimulants. These stimulants gradually increase certain neurotransmitter levels in the brain, generally dopamine and norepinephrine. In non-ADHD individuals, taking similar stimulants often results in mania, excessive energy and occasionally obsessive behavior. For people with ADHD lower neurotransmitter levels however, the increased chemicals a therapeutic effect: Instead of seeking to simulate themselves with excessive ‘activity,’ the stimulant satisfies their need for the deficient neurotransmitter. Stimulants have other potentially beneficial side-effects however, like appetite suppression and increased energy. These ‘perks’ can also help medicated ADHD sufferers work more efficiently than those who do not suffer from a disorder at all.

Just as auto-correct can frustrate texters with various subtle subversions, prescriptions can have adverse effects on the people who take them. People can become over-reliant on the spelling corrections of auto-correct (or similar systems like MS Word’s spellcheck) in a comparable fashion to the way that daily use of a prescription can potentially lead to drug dependency and abuse. Prescriptions can also inconvenience or distract their users through unintended side-effects like muscle twitches, heartburn and increased libido, just as auto-corrections can inconvenience or completely sabotage the intended meaning of messages by inaccurately correcting misspelled words or dropping intentional but unorthodox contractions.

Mundane carelessness can also lead to trouble with both auto-correction and prescription. Sending a message hastily often results in unintended auto-corrections, and taking a medication absentmindedly can lead to accidental over-dosages with severe side-effects. Anti-anxiety medications, for instance, can actually induce anxiety attacks if their recommended dosage is exceeded.

Another digital artifact whose soft programming mirrors prescriptions is Facebook. All social networking sites structure users’ behavior in a few obvious ways. They are platforms for sharing (and monetizing) personal information among a network of people. Again, this detail alone is enough for us to envision a hard programmed dystopia, where popularity becomes a literal currency and introverts or even people who desire a greater degree of privacy, are reduced to impoverished pariahs. In fact, this distortion of reality seems far more plausible than Orwell and Huxley’s outlandish worlds and some cynics would argue that we are already most of the way there. Like over-zealous anti-profanity phones though, the social network anti-utopia is less interesting than the existing “mechanics” that suggest it.

To borrow media theorist’s Marshall McLuhan favorite phrase, the medium of is the message. The actual content of what Facebook users post on their walls, photo albums, or send in their private messages is far less important than the way that content is organized and quantified. Every time an active user logs into Facebook, they are presented, or rather rewarded with three red numbers. The first keeps track of new friend requests. The second keeps track of personal messages. The third number tallies public correspondence, “likes,” and photos tagged with the user. The quantification of relationships, conversations and interests actually mirror many coping strategies assigned to sufferers of social anxiety.

Most psycho-active prescriptions are paired with monthly meetings with a psychiatrist to ensure that the drugs are functioning as intended. During these meetings, Psychiatrists often recommend habits to supplement the drugs being taken. People suffering from anxiety disorders are often encouraged to keep track of their accomplishments in a notebook. Parents of ADHD children were encouraged to assign points to tasks, and award children for achieving a certain milestones, long before the word “gamification” was coined to describe it.

Visual representation of numerical increments appeals to a very fundamental human desire. It creates the illusion of progress and a sense of accumulated value. Many users have noted and bemoaned the lack of a “dislike” button to counter-act the “like” button. The simple explanation for its absence is that it would be potentially bad for business. If a person logged into Facebook and found that they had suffered a negative number; a loss of friends, “likes,” and communication, they would receive a negative motivation to return to the site. For this reason, the Facebook network deliberately ignores loss of friends, deleted posts, and refuses to adopt a “dislike” button. Even before likes, comments and photos were all streamlined into a single number, people use to keep score on social networking sites through their number of friends.

There are other ways in which Facebook behaves like the soft-programming of drugs. Many sufferers of social anxiety find it easier to interact with people through text, where they do not have to worry about subtleties such as inflection and expression, or saying something foolish without time to reflect on their words and censor themselves accordingly. In this case, the screen acts as the ‘filter’ mediating social interactions. Certain channels of communication are masked online. Many anti-anxiety medicines also serve as dulling filters. Valium does this by relaxing patient’s central nervous system.

Other users, who find it easier to express themselves through cooking, illustration, dance and photography, use Facebook as a social portfolio that simultaneously broadcasts and records their latest project through pictures and video. Blogs fulfill a similar function, which accounts for the introduction of Facebook’s note feature, allowing for longer notes than a typical “wall post.” This behavior does not mirror the effects of drugs, but it does mirror the type of soft programming exercises that doctors prescribe in addition to psychoactive medicine. In both cases, the content recorded, either in a journal or online, is less significant than the fact that the user is making a note of it. This sort of soft programming encourages patients to consider, or at least acknowledge their accomplishments.The social component of Facebook, is arguably an even more effective tool than journal writing, as it invites the patient’s friends to consider their accomplishments as well.

There is another prescription and digital media pairing that deserves brief mention: performance enhancing drugs. Unlike ADHD students leveraging the side-effects of stimulants to their advantage, performance enhancing drugs, like stimulants and steroids are almost always expressly prohibited by law, or socially condemned. One could make the argument that this illegality precludes performance enhancers from being considered in the same light as prescriptions. Yet, if we look at the soft programming that results from their usage, we can see that they are quite similar. Steroid use in particular covers all the bases of prescription drug use, save for the element of social acceptability. Athletes trying to bulk up must take steroids according to a scheduled regime. Furthermore, steroid use often results in side-effects that require coping strategies. Most importantly, they are usually recommended (or prescribed) by another more experienced person; typically a fellow player or a coach. Finally, these recommendations are accompanied by other suggested exercises (such as weight training and specific diets) to maximize their use.

One digital 'drug' that parallels steroid use is auto-tune: an audio processor that blends pitches to disguise off-key frequencies. It is now standard equipment for professional recording studios, and a regular part of the recording process for many artists. It was originally designed to serve as another layer of polish by blending pitches to the nearest semi-tone, though certain artists, most notably T-Pain, have used the effect to produce a synthesized aesthetic, and other artists have even started relying on the program as a live performance aid. In this context, Autotune functions like a steroid, and it has stirred up similar controversy in the music industry as steroid-use has caused in major-league baseball. Some performers assert that using Autotune ensures that audiences will be able to see artists at the top of their game, while others believe the practice encourages laziness, erodes artistic integrity and stifles creativity due to homogenization.

This tension teases another potential anti-utopia; a world where ‘normal’ people are pressured to augment themselves with drugs or technology in order to compete or merely keep up with those who have been altered. This second-order social pressure, where peoples’ identities and habits are structured by technology regardless of whether they interact with it, constitutes the softest form of soft programming. Under this broad definition, all forms of technology from thimbles to thermonuclear warheads carry the potential for soft programming.

There is also a tendency for hard programming to soften over time and under scrutiny, at both a physiological and psychological level. Our biology naturally adapts and accumulates tolerance for drugs, gradually transforming drug use into a negotiation between recommended dosage and desired effect. We gradually become more dexterous as we type or play an instrument, allowing for a greater degree of negotiation between technology and intention. The hard rules of traffic signals (“always stop at a red light”) gradually become qualified by context and experience (“unless I am making a right turn” “unless I am in a huge rush” “unless it is 2 AM and I will not get caught”). Consequently, a useful way to begin analyzing soft-programming that I have tried to demonstrate here is to consider a medium through the lens of a conceptually limited dystopian extreme. By beginning with a world that has been hard-coded by technological determinism, the most prominent subtleties and qualifications make themselves apparent.

And We're Back!

I realize it's been about a year since I wrote about anything, so I think a brief update is in order. Last August, I returned Georgia to finish up my masters degree in digital media. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, and the most difficult part of it was completing my masters thesis: an analytical framework for videogame interpretation. If that sounds interesting to you, it means you are very cool person. You can read all 143 pages of it here.

In addition to classes, research, project studios and thesis writing, I also took a job at Georgia Tech's school paper, The Technique, where I served as the Entertainment Editor. All the free time that normally would have been devoted to Sarcasmancy went to the paper, and it was one of the best investments of time and energy I have ever made. Most of the work I did went into editing stories and laying them out, but I did a couple articles here and there that you can find on the paper's website.

Now that I have graduated, I have returned to southern California and I intend to update with something approaching regularity. First of all, I will be uploading a series of short papers that I wrote for Ian Bogost's Historical Approaches to Digital Media class. They are a little on the drier side, but hopefully still interesting. I will also mix in a few brief reviews about books/movies/TV/games/etc (I'm thinking Joe Abercrombie, Avengers, Sherlock and Witcher 2 respectively). I will try to keep things shorter and sweet and I know I say that every time I come back from a ridiculous hiatus, but this time I mean it.

TL;DR? I've been busy.

Sorry for the long absence and thanks for coming back!