Archive for July, 2012

I must be blogging from beyond the grave, because I think I just died

I promise to stop posting spit-takes to the Internet, but there was a comment left on game designer Mitu Khandaker’s blog some weeks ago that might be worth revisiting. Maybe you’ve already read it; the comment itself rapidly gained some, uh, notoriety.

In said comment, one of Khandaker’s readers took Katie Williams to task. Then his remark alarmingly turned its lens toward Basically All Females Everywhere. I don’t think the comment was intended maliciously, exactly, and there is a great deal to be said for women choosing to behave with force and agency, but the author kinda came off as a sack of shit.

You don’t have to read the reader’s comment at all, though, because someone helpfully created this bit of machinima, forever preserving—nay, immortalizing—this truly brilliant blog comment, for my children and children’s children to always cherish. An Heirloom Comment.

Yeah, yeah, okay. I know I just promised I wouldn’t post any more spit-takes, but you should also know I pressed “play” on this video and then literally spat Diet Coke everywhere.

P.S. Mitu Khandaker was recently interviewed at Electron Dance.

P.P.S. Aha! Speaking of “video games were invented by men,” 1UP.com just published my retrospective of Roberta Williams’s seminal 1980 game Mystery House. Here it is!

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I get tired of talking about it, too

rambo thoughts

Man. Man. I don’t think I’d ever used the word “gender” in a piece of writing until 2010. Wow! What a strange time for me, too. I was three months’ out of my six-year on-and-off romance/cohabitation thing, very freshly single and really bumbling around, extremely “over” writing about video games, and meanwhile I’d begun reading a lot about learned helplessness. You know, just for funsies. Er.

Yep, before 2010, I’d never used the word “gender.” What a dumb word.

Actually, that might be a lie. In school I did write a paper about women who join subcultures: it focused on Flora Belle Jan, the self-identified “flapper” journalist, and also, of all people, Mimi Thi Nguyen, who was a punk zinester and music journalist in the ‘90s. I likened both women to the not-very-fictional Mardou Fox in The Subterraneans, a woman who meticulously works to desex herself (Kerouac tells us she has short hair like a man’s, and that she wears dress slacks), all to be taken seriously as a Beat writer. So I bet the word “gender” must’ve snuck into that college essay somehow.

In Subterraneans Mardou is driven to the brink of her own wits, suddenly all too aware that she is, now and forever, ostracized by her chosen “subculture,” some niche group with which she had once so identified. Jan and Nguyen experienced similar psychological breaking points and very willfully severed themselves from their own established writing careers. In fact, I’m sure in my paper I accused them of “fleeing.”

It was kind of a weird paper to write for Asian-American history class. It was kind of weird that I took the class at all—but I needed a history credit to graduate! Oh, well. I think I got a B.

It would also be weird if, six years after having been suddenly hot-dropped into video games journalism, I were to—very abruptly, and with a personal sense of finality and closure—acknowledge some of my own patterns of experience.

Aha, but that’s just what I did with my current column at Unwinnable, “I Was a Teenage Sexist.”

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