Genders in Games

I think EC's take on the God of War story was a bit unfair because the story of the games was never too groundbreaking in the first place. It's always been a simple tale: one of revenge. While the first entry can certainly be defined as a tragedy, the video forgot to mention how Kratos is rewarded for his actions at the end. He becomes the God of War. I would argue that Kratos' true fall from grace was at the beginning of God of War II when he becomes mortal again. There is much more at stake in this incident, and he is filled with much more hubris as opposed to when he was a Spartan captain. Beyond that, the sequels carry the message of patricide and the son inheriting the mistakes of the father. So to just write them off as bad storytelling is in poor taste.
The story is rich in Greek lore, but it's really just an excuse for Kratos to kill X in order to fuel the action-oriented gameplay. On this note, the final moments in God of War III are very thought provoking. The video mentions how it changes to a first person perspective to mash in someone's face, but it leaves out the fact that the fight doesn't end until the player stops attacking. You are driven by some sort of gamer instinct to keep punching Zeuss' face to the point where the screen is entirely red from his blood. This keeps going until you stop pressing the attack button, raising the question as to why we're so acclimated to violence. What was the real point of all this? It almost satirizes the entire trilogy, and it's a very meta thought.

I believe that the reason that female game protagonists don't get as much respect as their male counterparts is simply because there aren't as many of them. Take Samus, for example, one of the most well known heroines in video games. A very small percent are aware of her existence, and an even smaller percent knows she's a female. Those that do know who she is are dedicated fans; however, and are willing to favor her against the likes of Master Chief.
Other heroines haven't favored as much. Lara Croft was once relevant but as time went on she was reduced to a mere sex symbol. Her games started losing popularity as well (Hopefully the reboot will remedy this), which is a case with other female protagonists, such as the player character from Mirror's Edge (I forget her name).

Further Research

http://www.digra.org/dl/db/05163.52481.pdf

http://www.gamasutra.com/view/feature/134646/closing_the_loop_fostering_.php?print=1

http://gac.sagepub.com.ezproxy.lib.ucf.edu/content/7/1/87.full.pdf+html

The articles above touch upon how virtual environments are a unique characteristic that helps differentiate video games from other "games". The player space aids in melding gameplay and narrative into one cohesive experience. Space in games, and how they are manipulated, also acts as the meeting point between the game's technology and the player.
These ideas contribute to my topic about how the environment in Psychonauts tells the story and resonates with the player. I'd like to look further into the psychological metaphor of the game and the levels of reality it creates.

Oiligarchy

Oiligarchy was great at making me play as the bad guy because I never actually felt like what I was doing was wrong. I was simply working towards a goal. Native people occupying my plants weren't something to empathize with, they were simply a factor that needed to be removed. With a click of the mouse they were gone and I continued playing with no remorse.
I think one of the game's strongest merits is clouding your motivation. I didn't really consider a lot of my actions or the results that would happen, I just went through with them if I had a suspicion that it would increase my profit. Even the concrete goal of money becomes slightly hazy. At a certain point your profit is so high that it isn't really a factor to be considered in the game play anymore. So what reason is there to keep playing?
The different endings may have hurt the game in that there are so many variables to consider to reach a certain outcome that the message takes a backseat to it. The randomness of events also don't help, but perhaps that speaks to the chaotic nature of free market capitalism.

Article Findings

"Video Games and Embodiment" was an interesting read that explores the motivation behind playing games. The dichotomy of the player's goals and the player character's goals does create a unique relationship that encourages immersion. I wasn't really sure how embodiment applies to the real world, however. I sometimes make up hypothetical situations in my head whenever I anticipate something, but to say that defines my entire mentality is something of a stretch.

I also read "Narrative Structure in Computer and Video Games", a subject that fascinates me as a player and someone who enjoys telling/listening to stories. The general point of the article was to analyze how narrative was used in games past and present, and then taking these findings to suggest how interactivity and narrative can be further incorporated. I think this is a matter that certainly needs addressing. There are certainly stories in games, but one of the major findings in the article (and from my own experience) is how often games rely on cutscenes for exposition, a passive form of story telling.

Double Fine Adventure

I feel like Tim and Ron were a bit stuffy when comparing adventure games to "modern games". Ron in particular seemed locked in the point and click mind set when judging a game's quality. He claimed that dialogue is something lacking in today's games because they aren't as interactive as they were in adventure games where the player was presented with multiple options. I really have to disagree with this; just because something is different doesn't mean it's lacking. Dialogue in games offer a wealth of purposes: in Bioshock it connects to the environment and urges the player to move forward, in Uncharted it creates a bond with nonplayable characters, in the Arkham games it creates an atmosphere of fear and insanity, and etc. Ron goes on to say that the dialogue and humanistic approach of the genre lends to its immersion, but there are plenty of ways for game to immerse the player, many of which are more engaging than a point and click adventure.

Game Authorship

It's a tricky question on whether or not video games have "authors". I know that whenever I play a game, I almost never consider the team that developed it. I only imagine the end product as if it materialized as it is. It's as if a game is a monstrous entity that sucks the life energy out of developers. It does help to distinguish the "author" when looking at behind the scenes videos, though.
Develops that I would consider to be "authors" are individual names often attached to games: Shigeru Miyamoto, Hideo Kojima, Gabe Newell, and etc. In reality, thousands of other people deserve credit, which begs to question why these names stand out.

One Play Bonus

I didn't try overriding the One Play mechanic. When I play games I generally don't set out to undermine the general foundations of them. This was my first time playing this type of game, and I wanted the full experience. Once I completed the games, I would look in the comments to see what other options there were, but I didn't gain much clarity from them. I didn't investigate any further cause feel like each game was its own self-contained experience. Seeking help online would somewhat undermine the creators' intent, because each game only gives you one opportunity to play. Why would you taint it with someone else's influence?

One Play games

I feel like "One play" games speak to the distinction of games as a medium of entertainment. As I was playing  One Chance, I started to think that the main intent of the piece was to be a story to watch. I wanted to shrug it off as a game, but I couldn't deny the interactive factor of it. The ability to retract your progress may be one of the things that set games apart from other story telling devices. Just the other day I was playing through Uncharted 3. I wanted the narrative to flow naturally so I could experience it like a movie, but the gaming instinct in me kept restarting checkpoints whenever I was sloppy. When reading books or watching movies, we don't have this choice. We can rewind or flip back a page, but the narrative continues to flow according to the creator's intent. Perhaps one of the appealing factors of playing games is a certain sense of self accomplishment, and that may be why I didn't consider any of the "One play" games particularly fun. They all robbed me of this opportunity. I didn't feel like my input as a player really mattered (save for One Chance), so I was left with a story that I really didn't enjoy too much on its own. You Only Live Once and Why is Johnny in an Art Game were satirical, and in that sense were almost self-defeating.  They seemed more concerned with telling their stories, and the player character was just an extraneous obstacle to get out of the way. The style worked better in One Chance, where the sense of futility and desperation in the situation was reinforced.

Video Games: Art?

The question over whether video games are art or not is widely debated. Usually when approaching the discussion, one starts by defining art. I tried this as I read through Ebert's article, thinking of how I defined art. Whatever words I spun in my head; however, I couldn't come up with a definition that was all-encompassing. I was given some clarity after reading Stanton's: simply put, art is undefinable.
 The traditional definition given in any beginner art class has something to do with expressing yourself. Designating a single universal interpretation to art defeats that purpose, I feel. As a matter of fact, why is that question brought up so much in those classes? Perhaps it isn't to find an answer, but to make the students think. "Art" is just a word, the concept we attach it to is subjective. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and all that jazz.
In this case, Roger Ebert is right. Video games aren't art. To him. So why does that matter?
It's a case by case basis, really. I for one do believe that video games are art. They arouse feelings in me while I play, and lead to a world of endless imagination, the same world that spawned the creation of the particular game in the first place. Perhaps art is meant to nurture creativity; in which case, almost anything can be art. Interior decorating is art. Talking is art. Hell, you can make macaroni art.
So by my definition, any video game is art. That being said, some art is better than others. For every Citizen Kane, there is a Troll 2. And for every Legend of Zelda, there is a Superman 64. But should one bad apple discredit an entire medium? Of course not.
I don't think we need to focus on asking whether or not video games are "art". You already have that answer. Instead, we should ask if the qualities that we prize in "art" are present in video games. Evoking harmonics from music, resonating images from cinema, endearing characters from literature, and etc. Are they used effectively in the game? Do they make it more fulfilling to play? Or, you can choose not to analyze a game, and simply enjoy it for what it is.
That's not nearly as thought provoking though.

Panopticism Bonus

One of the first games I thought of for this post while reading through Panopticism then playing through Stanley's Parable was Bioshock. Throughout the game, you're faced with a similar narrator, Atlas, telling you where to go and how to proceed. Games have conditioned us to believe that going forward is a good thing, but Atlas turns these expectations around.

The ultimate goal of Atlas' assistance was to assassinate Andrew Ryan, the founder of Rapture. Each step taken by the player was in actuality a step taken by Atlas, or Frank Fontaine. When Fontaine cuts off contact, he parts with the order to kill Ryan. The rest of the game seems to revolve around the influence of the player being passed around like a baton. As he is dying, Ryan orders you to finish the task, challenging your free will. 

Once he is disposed of, the player finds a new ally in Dr. Tenenbaum. Even though her intentions are to stop Fontaine and protect the Little Sisters, indicating that she is a good character, she still orders the player around in the same manner as Atlas. It seems like at no point is the player character actually under the player's control within the game. 

Even the loose morality system in which you decide between harvesting or rescuing Little Sisters is an illusion of choice: The former sides with Fontaine, while the latter sides with Tenenbaum, both options adding up to bringing you closer to each character's demands.

Did Irrational think that players were incapable of progressing through the game without constant orders? Or was this an intention of the narrative? Whether your character receives directions or not in a linear game, they will come closer to the goal in the same way by pushing forward. Do developers fill in the role of the faceless authority manipulating the players' actions? Or do they simply intend to nudge them in the right direction in discovering the world they've created?

Panopticism and the Stanley Parable

A Panopticon is a circular building with an observation tower in the center used for surveillance. The outer wall contains inmates that cannot see each other, but are constantly in view of the tower.
In the game, "Stanley", the player's character, is essentially one of these prisoners given the opportunity to escape. At first, Stanley is not sure how to function when he finds that the facility is uninhabited by his former employees (At least, this is how we are told how he feels). As he proceeds from room to room, the narrator begins to guide Stanley. I saw the narrator as the remnants of the authority Stanley is accustomed to; even though he is not being watched, he has been conditioned so as to govern himself accordingly. The idea is that  Stanley is being controlled without the governing power being present.
Stanley's, and to a certain extent the player's, free will is constantly in question. If you disobey the narrator's guidelines, you remove yourself further from the constraints of his directions, but move closer to being trapped within another endless situation. If you follow the orders, you eventually discover the extent of the monitoring of the employees.
It's natural to assume that proceeding through the game and escaping the facility is the reward to be gained, but as Stanley steps outside the narrator still speaks of how Stanley is feeling at that moment, eerily echoing back to the discovery Stanley just made about a machine controlling his emotions.
Even though you escape, you're still being controlled, and this was the ultimate goal of his captors.