Frequently Asked Questions

I thought I'd take a break from the usual programming and answer some of the questions that I often get asked via email or through comments.

1. What happened to the cheese that was in the fridge?
Most of it is still there, I just felt like some cheese and broke off a bit and ate it but then later I regretted it because cheese is nicer if you have it with something.

2. When are you going to do the dishes?
There are still clean plates.

3. When you daydream do you get carried away? Do you follow daydreams for years and wish they were real? If you seriously want to be a writer why don't you spend more time writing?
I can't answer that question because you didn't punctuate sufficiently. Commas are your friend.

4. Are any of these questions real?
It depends what you mean by real.

5. Were any of them asked by anyone?
No, they were not.

6. Ok then...
That wasn't a question, as such it will not be included in my FAQ.

Should the Australian National Classification Scheme include an R 18+ classification category for computer games?

This is my open submission to the Australian Government's public consultation on introducing an R 18+ classification for video games. If you are unfamiliar with the background, this kotaku post gives a pretty good overview. To get to a public consultation is a step in the right direction, and in the spirit of participatory democracy I wrote the following.

This question should be straight-forward: Yes it should. We recognise that movies can contain content which is inappropriate for minors, so we have an R 18+ classification for movies. We know that this rating is not universally enforced, but the principle is clear: we draw a line between adult content and content suitable for minors.

There is no compelling reason to apply different standards to games. Right now, game developers who are producing games intended for adults must either forgo an Australian release or attempt to shoehorn the game into a lower classification. This costs money and attracts a negative reaction from the gamer community, both of which conceivably have negative effects on the livelihood of Australian game retailers. This is exacerbated in an era when games are sold online (gamers will ignore an Australian release and order the international version on sites like Amazon) and sold digitally (gamers can purchase software and download it directly using content platforms like Steam). The incentive to support Australian retailers is low if there is a perception we are purchasing a bowdlerised copy of the game.

This was widespread during the release of the co-operative survival game Left 4 Dead 2 (2009). Many gamers chose to circumvent the region restrictions – not because gamers are sociopathic junkies craving a violent fix, but because they wished to play the game as it was intended to be played. The often poorly expressed anger from the gaming community about decisions such as Left 4 Dead 2 is a symptom of the problem: the classification board is not able to perform its role satisfactorily while the ratings are inconsistent between games and movies.

There is no consensus in the psychological research on whether gaming can have a negative affect on the development and temperament of children. The discussion paper refers to this. Some research has shown that gaming can have a cathartic effect and act as a place for already-aggressive people to work out their frustration. In any case, violence stemming from video games is so rare as to be inconsequential compared to violence from sport, from road-rage, or even outside pubs.

An R 18+ classification would create an explicit line for parents to adhere to. Right now, it is all too easy to imagine a parent of a 12 year old in a retailer, looking at an MA 15+ game and saying to themselves “Well, my child is rather mature for a 12 year old. I’m sure this game will be ok for them”, oblivious that the game is aimed at adults. The absence of an R 18+ classification forces the classification board to either ban a game outright or force it into a category it does not belong to.

It is paternalistic in the extreme to prevent adults from purchasing games on the basis that the games are inappropriate for children. It reflects the ongoing belief that gaming is something that kids do. But games are capable of being art just as movies are. The merit of a work does not come from whether or not it is violent but whether or not it is good. Adults are gamers and should be able to access the same games that are available worldwide.

Of course, simply holding a public consultation doesn't mean that positive change will happen. But, ever the idealistic type, if I'm given an opportunity to voice my opinion, I will certainly voice it. If you're reading this prior to February 28th, head to the first link above if you'd also like to express your opinion. It has the discussion paper, which is reasonably balanced, and it has guidelines for submission.

I return now to the regular program. Which is pretty much "I'll post next time I write something I like, which might not be for six months or more".

Meaningful.

Willingly or unwillingly, we are in an indifferent universe where the majority of influences on our lives are not only out of our control but were entirely arbitrary based on the circumstances of our births and the lives of our parents. We still have ultimate freedom, the freedom of a card player: to fold, or to play the cards we’ve received. As Camus said, suicide is the central problem in philosophy. But a game of cards can be won or lost; a life can only be lived, and the terms of that life are yours to define. We recognise that meaning is a value we assign to words and hang on objects; we should feel no despair in realising the profound meaningless of reality, because it is precisely that meaninglessness which affords us the freedom to define ourselves. It is in interpreting that we exist. Humans are a creative race, and creating meaning is the first of our great projects to create ourselves and our place in the vast indifferent universe. Humans were telling stories before they were building cities, before they were sowing fields.

Meaning is not inherent, but you can spend your time however you want. It's what you choose to do and what you choose not to do that defines you. We are always making these choices.

For a moment.

Anyway, I stopped time, no, I transcended time. It held no meaning. Everything was happening in the same busy instant. But it was not the dizzying journey I had hoped for. It was like flipping through a book. I read the first page and the last page and skimmed the chapters, and that was when I realised that the only good thing about the whole lousy affair was watching it unfold. All I'd done was take away that rush of blackness we'd all been plunging into, and there was nothing more to learn, just a vague irritation with myself for spoiling it.

Against my better judgement.

Against my better judgement I returned to the cave site.

I had to see if there was something - some small clue -a a hint that would explain what would happen or what was happening.

I had intended to visit at midday, but by the time I found the site again the sun was hanging low in the sky and the shadows were long. The cave entrance appeared even darker and I gripped my torch closely.

The whole thing had this odd, blasted, ancient feel to it, a harsh contrast to the woodland outside. There was a strange acrid smell that I could not identify and that smarted my nostrils as I steadied my nerves and entered the cave.

Once I had traced my way to the odd temple-room I had an unavoidable realisation. Someone else had been here since I last visited. The bones were scattered as if a wild and angry animal had run oose. The odd, large, wolf-like skeletons were gone and the human remains had been flung about with great force. The ribcage was in pieces and the skull was nowhere to be seen.

The ancient drawings had a recent update. Splashes of crimson blurred and obscured them. I suspected, at first, that some kids had come and trashed the place, but some absent part of me artlessly reached towards the wall and my hand came away sticky. I felt suddenly dizzy. To this day I do not know if the blood was animal or human.

The one painting that was untouched was the depiction of a man holding aloft my artifact. Yet it was not quite untouched, for on closer examination a splash of red covered the artifact itself. A horrid calm swept over me. Somehow, they were aware I had destroyed the artifact, and I was beginning to suspect I had made a rather serious error in my assessment of it.

Now that I looked at the painting again, it seemed ridiculous to think that it attracted or controlled the creatures. The figure, now smeared with blood, held the object before him like a priest would hold a crucifix to ward off evil.