Q&A With Mr. Biffo / Paul Rose! (Plugging His Book, But Being Funny Too)

Readers of the funnier-than-this-blog (not hard) and updated-more-than-this-blog (really not hard) Mr. Biffo’s Blog (formerly Biffovision) might have noticed one or two references to the new book Confessions Of A Chatroom Freak by the former Digitiser and only-readable-page-in-Edge guy. In the interests of good old-fashioned promotion, he agreed to grant us a Q&A about his sexual interests and darkest perversions. And a bit about the book.


You've written a book. Tell us all about it. Does it have some nice, smooth varnish on the front?

The entire cover is very smooth, and the overall dimensions are slightly larger than you – or indeed I – would perhaps expect them to be for a book of this sort. Tie it to a broom handle, and it makes for a very effective cudgel. And I should know: I’ve just used it to pressgang four or five people! The book is a series of genuine transcripts of conversations between my feminine alter-ego, LoopyLisa21f, and a series of unwitting online suitors. It’s probably slightly longer than it should’ve been, but at least you get your money’s worth. And hey – it’s not a novel, and therefore not meant to be read all in one go. Idiots. Depending on who you are, you’ll either find it the funniest thing you ever read, or get halfway through and decide that’s more than enough to write a negative review on Amazon. Not that I ever did that when I used to review video games for a living, of course. I played them all through to the end. Ahem.

Pretending to be someone you're not's a bit weird, isn't it? All this hiding behind personas who aren't really you, like a washed-up games journo who slags off everyone because HE HATES THE WORLD AND… ahem, sorry… so why did you go with "LoopyLisa" and her surreal personality?

I dunno, really. I didn’t think about it a great deal. Lisa just sort of happened. She was always 21, always a school teacher, and always had a father who abused her in a variety of amusing ways. Actually, there are elements of her personality that are based upon someone I used to know, but that’s all I’m saying on that (and with that every single person who ever met me feels a sudden pang of paranoia…). Yes, it was probably a weird thing to start doing initially, but hey – it was for a book, guy! If I did it for fun you’d have cause to get concerned. Anyway, hasn’t everyone pretended to be someone they’re not at some point? And when I say “pretended to be someone they’re not” I specifically mean “inverted their genitals to pretend to be someone of the opposite sex, and inexplicably started crawling around in their front garden”.

Even if you go out and win the Nobel Peace Prize, you'll always be remembered as "that guy what used to do Digitiser". One of our personal favourite bits of Digi was Phoning Honey, where you would ring up games shops and firms and prank them up good. Is LoopyLisa the new digital frontier version of Phoning Honey?

Yes. Spot on. That was part of the idea behind it: I needed to find a way to get all that pent-up Digi nonsense out of my system. Digitiser was always a stream-of-consciousness – written in an hour every morning, before I went off and did something more productive, such as give myself the runs, or suckle a horse – and for Confessions of a Chatroom Freak I took exactly that approach. It’s all quite liberating, really, especially now that I work in TV, where I’ve constantly got 45 people breathing down my neck, telling me what and how I should be writing. It also means I can go back and read bits, and find them funny because I don’t remember writing them.

Going back to the chatting up of a plethora of chat room weirdos you've done for your book: Now that the conversations they've had with you have been published for the world to see, what are you going to do when one tracks you down and demands you make good on any promises you might have made?

Take him up on it. I am nothing if not dedicated to my art. Actually, I’m not sure I ever promised anything. Part of the book was me talking a load of surreal arse, and seeing how long they’d continue to talk to me.

The TriForce wrote a book. No, really, and Teletext's GameCentral said it was shit. We found a dog-eared copy in Waterstones and thought it was alright. The kind of "alright" where we didn't regret standing there reading it for 10 minutes, but not the kind of "alright" where we were reaching for our wallets afterwards. Do you think your book will break the speed record set by the TriForce's book, and hit bargain bins even sooner (even if that would mean hitting the bargain bins literally before its release)? And do you think Teletext will say your book's shit too?

I can’t see the book being reviewed on GameCentral. Firstly, it has absolutely nothing to do with video games. Secondly, it’s absolutely filthy, and I know from bitter experience that Teletext doesn’t like any hint of filth unless you’ve found some way to sneak it onto their pages. Lastly, Teletext’s senior management hate me, so I wouldn’t for a second imagine that they’d want to publicise my guff. Will it hit the bargain bins quicker than The TriForce book? I hope so: I need to top up my promo copies library.

How does it feel not only being an Official Top 10 "Celebrity" Games Journalist BUT ALSO the sixth least hideous games journalist?

It feels to me like you could’ve chosen a better photo. I absolutely fucking hate that one. ‘Scuse my French.

Who's more attractive – you, or LoopyLisa?

Lisa, by far. She has smoother legs, and a nicer bottom. Mine is all damp, and covered in leaves.

Incredibly, the first few voters when we checked on Paul's picture agreed:

And on that note, is LoopyLisa's resemblance to Russell Brand intentional?

Does she look like Russell Brand? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. That probably means that Russell Brand looks a bit like my mother. Perhaps we’re related. Which would be embarrassing, seeing as we recently had sex with one another (you know: “for television”).

Were there any chats too saucy for the book? TELL ME NOW. IN DETAIL.

I’m not sure. There were some that were too unfunny for the book, and a couple that we edited out because some guy went off on a racist rant that sat uncomfortably alongside the rest of it. I think the sauciest ones are all in there. Some of those chaps really do get quite steamy. And, indeed, seamy.

You look very comfortable in your photographs. Your idea, perchance?

Actually, no. I tried to convince my publisher that we could get a model to pose for the pictures, but the budget wouldn’t stretch to it. My default reaction in any crisis is to reach for the mascara. The original photos I sent to the victims were actually slightly more masculine. The ones in the book are probably slightly too girly. I’d certainly do me. And I have done.

It's an undisputed fact which has been scientifically proven on more than one occasion that 93.7% of people surf the net in their underwear at all times. As you obviously statistically lie within this percentile, did you have your online chats in your underpants, or did you crack out the negligee?

As the photos prove, all my chats took place while I was wearing an all-in-one black body sheath, and white Stormtrooper boots. Indeed, everything I do occurs while wearing an all-in-one black body sheath, and white Stormtrooper boots.

Chatting up perverts and possible paedophiles is undoubtedly one of the best jobs in the world (it is, isn't it? Hmm?), so are you working on a sequel?

My publisher hasn’t asked me to think about a sequel, but I’d very much like to do one. I guess it all depends on how well it sells. I don’t think it’s doing too badly at the moment, but who knows? I think I learned a few lessons, and I’d like to develop the idea in a few different ways, while not losing sight of what makes it good. As I previously mentioned, I do find the process quite liberating. The book won’t be to everyone’s taste, but this sort of abject nonsense never will be. After all, Digitiser was always very divisive. I’d be surprised if anyone who liked Digitiser doesn’t finds Confessions funny. Also: anyone who doesn’t like the book is obviously an Internet pervert himself, and merely looking out for his own.

Did you ever feel yourself getting dragged (hah – "dragged" – you see?) a little too far towards the dark side when you were dedicating so much time towards chatting up freaks? Were you ever, say, halfway through a conversation before realising you had your hand on a nipple?

You mean, did I ever get turned on? Christ, no. There’s nothing quite as sobering – or less arousing – as knowing that the man you’re talking to is masturbating while fantasising about having sex with a female version of yourself. Towards the end I certainly found the whole thing clouding my mood. The first half of the book was written over the space of a couple of years, but making up the remainder of the chats only took a couple of months. That much concentrated exposure to the dank underbelly of the Internet was almost too much to handle. There’s only so much of that a man can stomach before losing all faith in the rest of his gender: it’s like being able to read people’s minds, and I did start to realise that – contrary to popular thinking – people don’t try and pretend to be someone else online. That’s who they really are.

You're a proper, real life TV writer. Do you think there's some way you can bring Confessions Of A Chatroom Freak to TV land?

I don’t know how it’d work on telly. My publisher and I did briefly toy with the possibility of doing some sort of live event – just to prove that I really do these things for real – but I can’t see any way of that happening without entering a legal minefield. I’d be happy to sell the film rights to anyone with a spare million quid to hand. Oh, go on then – fifty quid.

Did you ever have any chats with blokes who were actually Pat Butcher lesbians just pretending to be mentally disturbed wank monkeys?

No, but the opposite did happen. I chatted to one “bi-fem” who I sussed pretty early on was a bloke. Which was quite a surreal situation, when you think about it.

Your hatred of Terry Pratchett is legendary (interesting trivia fact: several games journos who work with his daughter love slagging her off when she's not there). Had you thought of inviting him to a chat with LoopyLisa? Do you think he'd try and work his moves, or huffily whine something about Ankh-Morpork (or whatever) and disconnect?

I don’t hate Terry Pratchett. He was just astonishingly rude to me one time, and I don’t like his stupid books. Admittedly, that’s probably as a consequence of him being rude to me. I’m not sure I’d want to chat with him as LoopyLisa. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything more distressing. Try and picture that: Terry Pratchett tugging himself off during a cybersex session. Ugh. No. I’d never go online again.

If you could chat with any person in the world as LoopyLisa, who would it be?

You, Ramraider. It has always been you…

Q&A (Guest Starring… Kieron Gillen!)

On our second Birthday, we made a promise to answer your questions. Actually, we promised to answer your questions if they arrived within an hour of posting with the obvious intention that nobody would notice until it was too late. Several of you asked questions, but missed the deadline. We’ll answer some of them anyway. However, one person managed to squeeze in an email full of questions within the hour, meaning we have to answer them. That man was Gillen.


KG: What's the purpose of your blog?

RR: There isn’t really any one purpose when it comes to what goes up on here now. When I first started over two years ago, I was pissed off. Pissed off with the games industry. Pissed off with how it all works. Pissed off that the mags lie to their readers and treat them with contempt. Pissed off that I would get bollocked if I made anything vaguely resembling a humorous or true comment that wasn’t in step with the company line (which means the advertisers’ line too). Just pissed off that the games industry has become this ridiculous joke constantly begging anyone who’ll listen to be taken seriously whilst carrying on like a corrupt, amateurish sixth-form project. Money money money.

KG: Why do you do it?

RR: That fateful night I started the blog, I thought there was very little chance that I could make a difference. I just wanted to get it out there how the magazines are put together, how we’re told to lie, how we get less than 24 hours to turn around preview code and call it a review, and how we get censored unless we’re rewriting press releases. I thought I might get a handful of readers, maybe 50 or so, who read the games mags and would be interested to hear what really goes on behind the scenes.

I never really thought I could make a difference until word got out and I started getting four-figure daily hits. Then I thought maybe I could. The weird thing is, despite blogging about the lies and bullshit, the majority of mag readers don’t know the blog exists because my main audience is games journos and industry workers who know it all anyway. Even the only place that’s had the guts to print my rants as the RAM Raider is the industry’s trade mag, MCV. I did get a mention in PC Zone though, in a roundabout way...

KG: What drives you?

RR: The purpose is just to have fun. If I want to slag something or someone off and Future Publishing (or even smalltime Nazis like the RLLMUK mods) won’t let me because they’re so fucking pathetic about censorship, I can just bung it on here and people get to read it if they want. The purpose now is just to talk about the games industry, get views from the people inside and outside of it, and to let the mags know that they can’t expect to lie without people finding out about it.

KG: What do you hope to accomplish with it?

RR: One of the things that makes me snigger when I’m being lambasted for being cowardly, and hiding behind my cloak of anonymity and all that bollocks is that the journos who are doing it aren’t criticising me for telling the truth. They’re criticising me because I’m talking about them and their buddies, and they don’t like it. They like criticising games (as long as the publisher hasn’t paid for advertising in the mag, natch) perched up in their magazines and on their little websites, and so they should. As games journalists, it’s our right and our duty to criticise bad games. I know for a fact that you feel no guilt when you’re really sticking it to a bad game, and rightly so.

What the games journos really hate though is the thought that someone’s criticising them. The reviewers are being reviewed. When I’m being called a hypocrite for working in an industry I’ve come to hate as much as I love over the years, that makes me laugh hard. So there’s the purpose: it keeps the mags on their toes, it keeps the readers of the mags informed about what goes on, and it entertains me as well as my Anonymous Knights.

KG: *Is* there anything you can accomplish with it?

RR: When it comes to accomplishments, I think I’ve achieved everything I set out to do and then some. Anything else is a bonus. As long as people enjoy reading the blog and the right questions are there to be asked, I’ll carry on popping up from time to time to ask them. And you’ve got to admit – that Top 10 Least Hideous Games Journos thing was a genius idea…


That’s enough for you, Gillen. And for the record, I don’t dislike you or your work. I just dislike some of your work, and the way it’s treated like lost sections of the Bible by certain people. Now, other questions from other readers:

lips said...
Happy Birthday Rammy! My question - why bother?

RR: Kinda answered that above. Thought I could make a difference, but now I’m just pleased to have a conduit to comment without corporate interests taking precedent.


Neil said...
When did you first see corruption in the games industry?

RR: Very good question. A lot of the very early stuff is well documented already, but the first time I personally felt the baseball bat of corruption was when I had an entire article plagiarised from an Amiga mag by a freelance guy like I wouldn’t fucking notice. I won’t name the guy who did it because I don’t know what he does now, and it was a long time ago. And yes, I do regret not suing.


Bonjela said...
Happy Birthday Ram. Answer this please: there are only two magazines for PC games players, so which is better. Pc Zone or Pc Gamer?

RR: PC Gamer, without a shadow of a doubt. I’ve swung between the two a lot over the years. PC Gamer lost my vote when they redesigned a few years back and got all wanky, but then PC Zone was bought out by Future, and was transformed from an edgy adult games mag into a more sterile version of The Beano, and PC Gamer have reeled in their wankiness a bit. Both mags have their faults. PC Zone’s days are numbered the way its ABC’s are going, but they have some genuinely good writers on board which means it’s a shame. Jon Blyth is superb, and weird Irish kid also has his moments when he’s not hung over, but the combination of Future’s dictatorship and the worst editorial partnership in the mag’s history (Sefton/Porter) has sealed its fate. PC Gamer has a more consistent bunch of writers when it comes to quality, with Gillen (when he’s not being silly) and Walker (when he’s not being wrong) standing out. They’ve also got a good solid editor with Ross Atherton, although he needs to reel in the World Of Warcraft features, and stop Tim Chubby Edwards from being so smug.


Anonymous Knight said...
how long have you been in the games business

RR: I won’t give an exact date, but my first published games mag appearance was in the 80’s.


Richard said...
why don't you actually post anything about people taking bribes and that anymore. More rumours of PR intervention, please!

RR: Two answers to this, really. First, despite how much Future and its bitches made out they didn’t care about the blog, they got in an enormous flap. Hatches were battened down, rumours flew, and management wanted to track down their little leak. The problem is, and I hate to admit this, it kinda worked. The way this info works its way around the office means that when stuff does reach me, it would narrow down the field too much if I revealed it. About 10 people know for certain who I am (not including the ones who have guessed) and that's the way I want to keep it for now. The second reason is that it really, genuinely upsets people when I talk about them, so I hold back unless there’s something I really want to get off my chest. Anonymous Knights even write to me with info, but ask me not to reveal it for what I guess are the same reasons, which I always respect. Surreal, but true.


Anonymous Knight said...
How many games industry staff were in the PS3 get-a-free-TV line?

RR: It was quicker to count the genuine customers, and that was after they had to be bribed to appear in the publicity shots.


That’s it folks – the RAM Raider salutes you.

Why The Mail On Sunday Got It Right

It’s not unusual for the non-specialist press to get it completely wrong when it comes to games, but nobody cares. Anyone who’s a proper gamer knows it’s all bollocks, and bad press almost always means better game sales. Last Sunday, the Mail On Sunday led with a front headline of “Slaughtered”, and featured pictures taken from Official PlayStation Magazine’s giddy-schoolboy account of a pathetic press event for God Of War 2. Whilst it was embarrassing enough that what’s viewed as a “leading” games publication was getting all excited at naked breasts, what had really offended the sensibilities of The Mail was the decapitated slaughtered goat from which offal was being offered to the motley collection of journalists.

As soon as Sony found out one of its pathetic “look at me” press events had been given the front page of, as much as everyone likes to criticise it, one of the country’s best-selling newspapers, it immediately back-pedalled by issuing an apology and launching an enquiry. As soon as Future Publishing found out its magazine had made the front page, the brass acted just as steadfastly by… pulling the entire print run of their excuse for a magazine and are now busily ripping out the pages.

It’s so easy to sit back and criticise newspapers for their games coverage, as they always get it hopelessly wrong. Whether games are being linked to knife attacks or GTA is being blamed for the world’s evils, we, as gamers, know it’s just misinformed shit which heretic non-gamers, who nobody cares about anyway, will tut at and everybody else will laugh at. In this instance though, the Mail On Sunday got it right.

Having a decapitated slaughtered goat at a press event and splashing it over the pages of a shit kiddy magazine was totally misjudged. Sony has admitted it was misjudged by grovelling when confronted, and Future has agreed that they fucked up too by withdrawing its OPSM bog roll. The MoS isn’t entirely right – their “review” of the game by “expert” Rob Waugh, whose usual remit is rewriting press releases to make them even more superficial, is woeful (Waugh-ful! Sorry…) However, the games industry has no right to criticise the MoS for running the story.

MCV has reported Tim Wapshott, described as a “veteran industry writer”, describing the story as “screaming”. They’ve also quoted Steve Boxer, hilariously and pathetically all at once described as a “senior games journalist”, whatever the fuck that is, slagging off the MoS with the usual “they always get it wrong” shit.

The industry has already been shamed by being tarred with Sony and Future’s brush of stupidity and gormlessness. Sony hasn’t exactly had the best PR record since the PSP and PS3 have dirtied shop shelves. Even before then, they’ve not precisely nailed the PR machine. We remember a friend who had been into hospital and had a head x-ray about 10 years ago. A week or two later, a mailing marked “urgent” arrived, and in it were plastic reproductions of head x-rays with a letter worded as though he had a serious illness. He realised as he read further down the letter that it was some bullshit Sony “game brain” crap, but not until he’d almost had a nervous breakdown at the thought of being notified to see his doctor urgently after having a head x-ray. Complaining to Sony, they just sent back a letter saying how they were being “fresh”. No Sony – you were being fucking arseholes, just like you are now.

Anyway, that’s what we think to Sony, and you all know what we think to Future. But MCV, who we respect, shouldn’t be wading in with comments from “senior” and “veteran” journalists, who obviously have no vested interest in sticking the knife in because it’s not like they write for competing papers like The Times, The Guardian and The Mirror, or anything, and presenting it as an industry view.

The industry is full of journalists. Many of them are shit, many (but a lot less) of them are great. When the industry as a whole has been humiliated by the stupidity of Sony and Future’s money-grabbing attention-seeking antics, it needs to be left to the specialist journalists – the good specialist journalists – to comment, and say, “yeah, Sony and Future fucked up, we think they’re stupid”. The opportunistic rival newspaper wankers can keep their opinions to their own rags.

Will this industry ever be free of vested interests?

-----------------------------------------
Our 2nd Birthday Q&A will be up soon.

Edge = Spineless Fucks

Reading Edge is wrong on so many levels, there literally isn’t room on the whole of the web to list them. The pretentious prick-fest that calls itself monthly journalism is getting a lot of attention at the moment because they’ve been even more spineless than usual. And that’s saying something.

Former Digitiser editor Paul Rose / Mr. Biffo usually writes the only page of the “mag” that’s even close to readable every month, and is always refreshingly free of penis-sucking platitudes and over-use of Word’s “Synonyms” option to pick the longest words. This month, Edge has seen fit to pull his monthly opinion page because he commits the unforgivable sin of telling an amusing story about how Sony husk Phil Harrison hijacked a Marillion concert by turning it into a corporate plug for the despicable PS3, contrary to Future Publishing Commandment “Though shalt not biteth the cocketh that fucketh our readers in the arseth for money. Eth.”

Recognising that reporting the truth about Sony cunts and their ridiculous antics is what proper journalists do, Paul has published the article on his excellent blog.

So now you can hate Sony and their nosediving sales figures and read the only readable page in Edge without having to buy it / hang around a newsagent / fish it out the office bin right now, for free. Future, in the meantime, are safe to carry on selling the varnished covers of not-very-popular-in-terms-of-reader-figures-despite-what-they-make-out Edge for another month.

Corrupt Games Journos – Let’s Improve Things

Our thoughts on how journalists are becoming indistinguishable from PR mouthpieces are no secret. MCV (p.17, 3/11/06) published our proposition to lead us not into temptation:


“Every so often, the question of whether games journalists count as being part of the games industry is raised. The question is largely based on semantics: of course games journalists (or at least the specialist press) are just as much a part of the industry as the publishers, the PR and the marketers, but they’re not directly involved in the process of making games.

But the truly important question isn’t about whether or not games journalists are part of the industry.

The question that should be asked – strongly – is: “Are journalists independent of the industry?” If they’re not, the specialist press is in trouble.

In a debate about the first question on Sony’s David Jaffe “cake’s” blog some time ago, I reminded every reader of the true purpose of the games media. The free press is there to commentate, to critique, and to inform the public.

Or, in less flowery terms, to test out games and tell you if they’re worth buying.

To carry out this role competently and fairly, journalists have to be impartial and professionally unbiased. Despite this, publishers pour collective millions into the pockets of PR machines whose jobs are to make sure the journalists are talking about their games.

The PR folk achieve this by lavishing journalists with treats, from previews of games through to expensive trips abroad – complete with a quick look at the code, shoehorned between dinner and a lapdance.

Most press events are overblown and unnecessary. Because of the needless luxuriance of these jollies, which often see journalists being flown to fancy locations around the world, hacks become open to suggestion. Maybe these journalists who are supposed to be taking an unbiased and impartial view of a game aren’t quite living up to their readers’ expectations.

It would be unsportsmanly to suggest journalists are deliberately nice about a game because of the attention they’ve received courtesy of that nice PR man’s credit card. But it’s nothing more than natural to assume that maybe, just maybe, the critics might be slightly influenced, even if sub-consciously, when summing up the latest release.

There you are ready to start ripping the game apart before you suddenly remember how nice Mr. PR Man always is to you, and, oh, the fun we all had on that trip, and those developers are just so dang ‘nice’… where was I? Oh yes, maybe I won’t mention that below-par bit of the game after all…

And that’s where the danger lies. A critic is supposed to approach a game just as a reader of their magazine or website would. The problem is the critic has played several versions of the preview code, interviewed the developers, and been arse-kissed by the PR. In some cases, they’ve actually had their faces scanned into the game or have got to record their voice as one of the characters. They’re as far removed from an everyday purchaser you can get.

One of my Anonymous Knights recently commented that reviewers should be made to list all the free stuff they’ve been given, as well as any contact they’ve had with the game’s makers.

I’d propose something stronger: don’t assign the review of a game to the journalist who’s been to press events and seen previous versions of the code unavailable to the public.

Give it to someone who can approach it with a fresh and unbiased perspective, just like those who eventually purchase the game at retail.

Reviewers are only human, so lead them not into temptation. Otherwise, they’re more a part of the industry than they ever should be.”


The original comment we posted on David Jaffe’s blog a year ago was this:

“I think two issues have been confused here. The first is the notion that games journalists/writers/critics/whatever aren’t part of “the industry”. Just like movie critics are an integral and vital element of the movie industry and music critics are likewise for the music industry, games critics are just a much a part of the games industry. An industry is made of elements that if one was removed, the whole would fail. The movie, music and games industries would be nothing without their respective press, as there would be no interface between the consumer and the creators. The second issue is that games “journalists” simply don’t live up to their job descriptions. The point made about magazines being full of PR puff is valid as, speaking as a UK journalist, most magazines are glorified mouthpieces that pander to PR whims. “Features” start and end with press trips laid on by PR firms or publishers, and result in little more than speculation wrapped up in positive spin. Good, honest, aggressive (but fair) journalism is all but impossible to achieve now, but it’s not always the fault of the journalists. While some are content to sit back rewriting press releases, the specialist UK games press is monopolised by a publishing house which, in association with the selective PR firms, calls all the shots when it comes to what gets covered by its magazines and journalists. This effectively makes the concept of independent editorial thinking and a truly free press a fiction. The only journalists brave enough to stand up and speak their minds are quickly shunned and blacklisted from the “club”, leaving true honesty to be the bastion of the exiled, or working journalists cowering behind a shield of anonymity.”


And here’s a shit quality scan of the MCV article:

5 Reasons The BAFTA Game Awards Were Bollocks. Again.

1 – Vernon Kay’s jokes going down like a crack about slapheads at a chemotherapy support group.


2 – The award presenters. If it wasn’t the likes of Emma B struggling to read out “Rise And Fall: Civilations At War” as though she knew what she was doing, it was the rest of them wishing the ground would swallow them up when asked if they liked games afterwards.

Bint: Are you a gamer?

Jon Culshaw: Errr, yes. Well, I’ve got an Xbox, but haven’t opened it yet.

Memo to Jon – just say “no” next time.


3 – The features. An obnoxious shit trying to sound like Russell Brand telling gamers what they already know, and non-gamers what they couldn’t give a fuck about. And the bint arguing that gamers aren’t geeks by going to a pro-gamer tournament, where all the participants are spotty twats. Well done.


4 – The judging panel.


5 – Ghost Recon Advanced Warfighter winning two awards, including game of the year. What the fuck?


Why is the games industry constantly trying to justify itself by searching for the mysterious golden egg of “credibility”? Every time there’s a ludicrous shambles like this put together, it does nothing but piss off the gamers, and bore anyone else who happens to be passing.

Just let the gamers get on with playing – the rest of the world can fuck off.

Antipathy Under Fire

In the 18 months this blog has been running, we’ve taken abuse from all sorts. It’s understandable – human nature means anyone who disagrees with a viewpoint will always be much more likely to bother to respond than if they agree. We learnt that when we disappeared for three months and previously silent supporters e-mailed us until we came back.

Most of the flack we’ve taken has been from certain types of people. Someone we’ve criticised directly or disagreed with their viewpoint, or one of their friends or colleagues. Sometimes fans of a company or writer will jump in to defend their idol. Fair enough, but it’s always weird when someone who’s completely unrelated to the industry pipes up and joins with the nay-sayers, but there’s usually a motive.

If you read MCV or follow the blog, you’ll know about a recent article David McCarthy wrote about new games journalism and the letter we wrote in response. It was standard fare for us. There was nothing new in our arguments, we were just taking the opportunity to put them in print and in context with the views of another writer. And so it took us by surprise when we opened the next week’s issue (29/9) to find two-thirds of the letters page had been dedicated to us.

One of the letters was by Stuart Campbell. We won’t bother typing it here as it wasn’t one of his better pieces of work, (feel free to stick a link to a scan in the comments section if you like though) as despite claiming to be addressing our rants about NGJ, he was really just having another moan about us being anonymous.

“Why doesn’t he say so using his real name (or even just ‘Bill Smith’ or whatever), instead of cultivating the (cough) mysterious ‘RAM Raider’ persona?”

What difference would using “Bill Smith” instead of “RAM Raider” make? Oh well, moving on…

The letter which really caught our eye was by a certain John N Sutherland who is a self-professed “Senior Lecturer in Video Games” for the University of Paisley (funny they only offer courses on computer games technology and art – not quite the same thing, is it?). If it was April, we’d have thought he was having a laugh. In fact we still thought it was someone having a laugh, but this guy really exists. Here’s his largely incomprehensible letter:


“RAM Raider descends in the lowest form of naff media-ism. It’s the kind of laugh, grunt and burp school of boys drinking their first beer from a bottle. What form of mass entertainment other than games would consider taking his (I assume Ram is a him) approach to critical enquiry into the medium? (The kind of industry which rates Ghost Recon Advanced Warfighter the BAFTA-winning game of the year seeing as you’re asking.)

Indeed, what, when and how he says what he says is itself a text to be duly analysed. He is part of the message that games put out: a sniggering in darkened rooms at block graphics, of body parts coming apart in mock gore, tempting the Daily Mail to mock schlock horror. (Yes readers, he’s subjecting a rant-blog to an NGJ-style analytical deconstruction. You couldn’t make this shit up.)

There is another possibility, which is the one used in the critical analysis of movies, television, music, drama, books, painting, clothing, language, form, etc. It is to ask the question: what is going on here? Video games are not a unique medium never seen before; they are simply another mass entertainment medium as capable of being subject to deep questioning as any other form of human activity.

From where he stands, Ram Raider is quite possibly, as he admits, incapable of understanding this ‘crap’: the analyses, concepts and sentences used by such critical analysis. But, with a little more education I’m sure he could.

There are probably a range of courses on textual criticism available at his local universities. For one, he needs to realise that objectivity is not an absolute. For example, the meaning of a word such as ‘fun’, which is core the video gaming [sic], is almost entirely subjective. I too play games that I enjoy playing. The question is: why?”


Yes – why? Why talk a load of fucking bollocks about games when you’re supposed to be entertaining and informing your readers – that’s what I’ve been banging on about for so long now.

Perhaps Sutherland should take his own advice on reading up on how to write a legible piece, as responses from friends and colleagues we showed this to ranged from “Is it meant to be a poem? The structure’s all fucked, he’s trying to make it into a poem” to “He’s taking the piss – he must be.”

The best response was from a veteran games journalist who wrote for the mags in the 8-bit glory days of the C64 and Spectrum. Being away from the industry and games journalism for so long, he was completely baffled by it all.

“None of this shit went on in my day. I mean, who the fuck cares? We just had to load up the tape and write some shit about whether it was worth buying. It’s like these people are writing in a different language now – how is that helping? Jesus Christ, I’m pleased I got out of this lark. What a load of bollocks.”

Amen. Anyway, our response was published the following week (6/10):


“My goodness, it looks like I’ve got some thanking to do. After Stuart Campbell pitched up last week asking why I moan about NGJ (although he seemed far more perturbed by my anonymity), along comes Mr. Sutherland to answer the question for me.

From a ‘senior lecturer in video games’ (suddenly ‘Games Journalist’ doesn’t look so bad on the old CV), Sutherland’s letter is a living and breathing embodiment of exactly the kind of nonsense that needs to be kept out of games journalism.

In a series of disjointed and unrelated paragraphs which appear to be making points but, upon closer inspection, aren’t actually saying anything, Mr. Sutherland suggests I’m too thick to understand the needless deconstruction of the magic of gaming.

I’ll be sure to sign up to his three year degree course in video games at the earliest opportunity to rectify this, and get to know the three people in the UK who failed their A-levels whilst I’m learning a whole new art.

I’d also like to thank Mr. Sutherland for putting me straight on a few things that I’d so foolishly been mistaken on. Objectivity is a relatively recent concept apparently – and there was me thinking it had been around as long as subjectivity. Aren’t I silly!

And ‘fun’ is also actually almost entirely subjective, which makes virtually unanimous praise of excellent games such as Half-Life and Elite nothing but a hilarious coincidence. What a fool I’ve been all this time!

Thank you, Mr. Sutherland. Thank you for proving my point about why over-analysis of video games should stay well away from the realm of games journalism.

And thank you for making me quite literally laugh my grunting, burping backside right off.

‘Bill Smith’
RAM Raider Towers
ramraider.blogspot.com”

In Defence Of Old Games Journalism

Dave McCarthy (Taurus from the Triforce) interviewed Gillen a couple of weeks ago about NGJ for MCV. McCarthy was irreverent, but Gillen in between his pretend (we think) pretentiousness threw in a few snipes at OGJ including “there were only three things you could write about games: a review, a preview or a tips guide” and “The best Games Journalism now is better than it’s ever been. We probably should be grateful.” It angered Dave Perry who vented on the Triforum and mentioned his viewpoint in a letter to MCV last week, but the main defence of OGJ was left to us. So here it is, how they printed it:


“Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. That describes Kieron Gillen’s take on NGJ and his opinion in last week’s article by cheeky Garry Bushell impersonator Dave McCarthy (‘Games Journalism RIP?’, MCV 8/9). I’ve not got much space, so I’ll keep this brief.

On Gillen’s Definition: For someone who sneers at NGJ’s detractors for not having read his ridiculous article about it, he needs to get his opinions straight. One minute it’s ‘travel journalism to imaginary places’ (puke), the next it’s ‘anecdote based writing’. Make up your mind, because the difference is quite important, you know.

On NGJ: Why does it exist? Gillen thinks there’s an audience for subjective journalism. You know, like when one of those terrified kids sat there during Bad Influence droning in a monotone, “I like playing Altered Beast because I like playing it.”

Sure, it sums up what that reviewer’s feeling. But isn’s [NOTE TO MCV’S SUB-ED: READ THIS] games journalism there to tell gamers what they might like to buy? And doesn’t that mean you have to be just a tiny bit objective?

On Gillen’s Opinion: Gillen not only thinks there’s a market for this crap, but that it’s overtaken Old Games Journalism in terms of quality. Of course, Jaz Rignall, Stuart Campbell, Gary Penn and Dave Perry only used to be able to write reviews, previews and tips guides back then.

Now we can discuss the existential ramifications of post-feministic perspectives on the use of the silencer in Counter-Strike as a symbol of phallic rape. Wow, I’m so grateful games journalism is so bloody great now.

New Games Journalism is the mother of all misnomers. It’s not ‘new’. And it’s got more to do with the faceless boring writer than the ‘games’. Writing ‘my monitor and me: a pretentious autobiographical account’ will never qualify as journalism.

You want to know what NGJ really is? Old Writer Narcissism.

RAM Raider
ramraider.blogspot.com”

Losing Neverland

We’re in danger of losing something very special. It’s movie quote time again, this time taken from a conversation between J.M. Barrie and Charles Frohman after Barrie’s latest play had just been over-analysed to death:

Barrie: “It was never meant to be taken seriously.”

Frohman: “You know what happened, James? They changed it.”

Barrie: “They changed what?”

Frohman: “The critics. They made it important. Hmm? What’s it called? What’s it called?”

Barrie: “Play.”

Frohman: “Play.”


We play games. “Games”. An amusement or pastime, and a recreational activity according to Google (and who are we to argue). Pieces of software put together so we can enjoy ourselves.

Games like chess. Noughts and crosses. Tennis. Badminton. Battleships. Connect 4. They’re invented, and people play them. For fun.

But “they” are trying to change this. “They” think games are art. “They” think games are there to be analysed, attached to everyday real life or the human psyche. “They” are trying to make games important.

Games are only important in being an excellent way to have fun by yourself, with friends, or with paedophiles you meet on Xbox Live. Games don’t need to be analysed, just reviewed so the folks at home know what to pay for or spend time downloading on Bit Torrent.

But “they” aren’t happy with reviewing games. “They” have to make themselves feel important, and pretend their degrees in art & sociology weren’t a waste of their time and money. “They” think their personal experiences of a game are more important to mankind than the game itself.

This kind of shit has no place in games journalism. The critics are there to keep the makers in line. When something’s shit, we’ll say it’s shit. When something’s great, we’ll say it’s great. But who the fuck is interested in some random guy’s views about the time he was playing a game released 5 years ago when he was so bored by the game itself, he had to start deconstructing the level design or the plot or the characters or the colour of the fucking logo?

Games are great because they’re fun, because they offer a Neverland for us to escape into. Us. Not “them”. We don’t give a fuck about “them”. If “they” keep over-analysing and essay-writing and deconstructing and talking bollocks about games, the Neverland will disappear, and all the decent games journalists will become the lost boys.

If the Captain Hooks amongst you want to wank over yourselves wanking over games, or compare OGJ versus NGJ to Peter Pan versus the real world (sorry), keep it restricted to your personal blogs. Stop wasting the pages in magazines. Stop trying to compete with what’s great about gaming. Stop trying to make out it’s all so life-changing and important. Stop fighting the lost boys and destroying the magic.

For fuck’s sake – nobody ever saw the need to write an essay about the motivations of the Hungry Hippos…

Capcom Are Cunts About Dead Rising

Yet another multi-million pound corporation doesn’t bother to test its product properly before selling it to you. The result? You can’t read the text in Dead Rising if you’re playing on a normal TV.

Capcom’s Response: “Due to the amount of text and the size of the patch necessary to change the text, a patch isn't possible for this issue. We had asked the team if it was even possible but ... due to the scope of what a patch would need to cover, it wasn't possible.”

Translation: “Fuck you.”

We Say: Take Dead Rising back to the shop and demand a refund – it’s faulty. And slip a note inside the instruction manual that says “Fuck you too, you money-grabbing cunts.”

Sony’s Arrogance Pays Off… For Everyone But Sony

We usually steer clear of stories like this which the whole world has already flogged to death, but it would be a shame not to jump on a bandwagon as beautiful as this.

Here are some choice comments from SCEE chief twat David Reeves being a smug cunt in the glorious MCV earlier this year, as reported by gamepro.com:

“David Reeves, the head of Sony's European PlayStation 3 launch, has gone on record in MCV as saying that 'it is my job to match [the European PS3 launch] with the U.S launch,' adding that 'I am doing my very best to make that happen.'

Reeves also takes a moment to scold analysts who speculate about a possible PS3 delay, saying 'no one really knows the facts.' Reeves goes on to say that he is 'very, very confident' about Sony's launch plans for the PS3.”

Well Dave, we’re “very, very confident” that the analysts are laughing in your cocky face, and you’ve failed to do your job.

Let’s face it, after watching Sony i) fucking up the launch of the PSP, ii) turning the PSP into a white elephant that’s been shoved aside by the Nintendo DS, and iii) replacing the PS3 controller with an old dual shock with the rumble pack replaced with a motion sensor in a panicked reactionary response to the Nintendo Wii controller, the analysts had plenty to go on.

Happy Christmas, Sony!

Future Haemorrhages Credibility

We’ve already told you about Future’s loss of readers and money. Now we’re going to tell you why.

Future is desperate to put a positive spin on readers flocking away from their magazines along with their money. In last week’s omnipotent trade-weekly MCV (happy now, Lisa?), they summoned their mouthpiece James Ashton-Tyler to take a leaf out of Sony’s book of PR arrogance. In one fell swoop, he brushed aside a suggestion that hadn’t been made in the first place that websites are killing mags all whilst sidestepping the real reason Future is haemorrhaging readers and money.

The discussion about websites taking over from the mags has been limping along for years, but has never been convincing. Although websites provide up-to-the-second news and reviews for free, the writing itself has always been questionable. Even the websites championed as spearheading the online games-info revolution attract the dregs of the industry. The unreliable Eurogamer and IGN lead the way in posting up woefully bad copy that’s uninformed, overly-indulgent or both.

Magazines have always been the place to go to read the views of the industry’s leading critics. You have to pay a few quid for the privilege, and mag lead times mean that reviews might be published a bit later than the instant-update websites, but the money and wait has always been worth it for well-written, funny, honest views to help you spend your money.

Not any more.

Despite Ashton-Tyler’s snide comments in MCV, Future is running scared of its online competition. They’re so frightened, they’ll do anything to compete. They’ll publish official magazines for unreleased consoles that their journalists haven’t played with yet. They’ll set-up “world exclusive” reviews to give the illusion of being ahead of the websites. They’re so desperate, they’ll jump into bed with publishers and lie to their readers to keep the illusion running.

The October issue of PC Gamer is in the shops on Thursday. Inside is an 8 page “world exclusive” review of Company of Heroes. Although it takes Tim Edwards a while to get going (“I could tell war stories all day, but you might want to know how CoH actually plays” says Edwards on the sixth page) but it’s an otherwise reasonable account of the game. From what we’ve played of CoH, it’s a very good game which will probably be worth its 94% when finished. The trouble is, there’s so much dishonesty and deceit around it all, they’re not even trying to hide it any more.

Page 44-45 has a two page advert for Company of Heroes featuring a quote and the score from the review which, remember, is in the same issue. The front cover is adorned with CoH worshipping. “BEST RTS SCORE EVER” lies the front cover, as later on the magazine cheerfully reminds the reader the 95% they awarded Rome: Total War in issue 141. The last time we checked, 95% is higher than 94%.

It screams dishonesty. They’re so desperate to beat the websites to a review, they’ll base the review of the game on unfinished pre-release code. The guy who reviews it will be flown around the white cliffs of Dover in a WWII plane to France, and wined and dined in a luxury hotel and casino. His fellow journalists will be sat in front of preview code to write previews whilst he’s given “world exclusive” unfinished "review" code. Future will give the advertisers the score and a quote from the review as part of the deal. A lie will be told on the front cover.

It’s been going on for years. The RAM Raider has written reviews for magazines from disks with “preview code” written on them. The RAM Raider has written reviews for magazines from code that’s less than 75% finished. It’s becoming more of an open secret now, and the readers are realising.

This is why magazines are dying. They’re dishonouring themselves by reviewing unfinished code and making advertising-for-coverage deals. They’re cheapening the quality of an excellent game by reviewing it through dishonesty.

That’s why Future is haemorrhaging readers. That’s why Future is haemorrhaging money. If its morals and honesty are haemorrhaged too, more readers will realise they’re being lied to.

Would you rather read a “world exclusive” review of unfinished code in conjunction with advertisers, or a later review of finished code that’s independent and uncensored?

Dave Perry & The Death Of Celebrity

Top 10 Celebrity Games Journalist Dave Perry wrote an article in industry arse-rag MCV recently about the lack of proper gaming celebrities on TV. We agree with quite a lot of it, especially the bits that agree with what we’ve said, not to mention the list of celebrities we’ve championed in our Top 10 and also-ran list. We don’t agree with the second half of the article though.

Perry talks about the wealth of talent in the games industry who could step into the role of a TV celebrity. We’ve met and/or know plenty of games journalists. The ones who can string together great articles that are informative and funny (as the OGJ code demands) would never make it when away from their desks. The ones who aren’t informative and funny should fuck off and work in PR.

The ones who have tried – step forward Triforce guy Ste Curran and his brave attempt at games radio One Life Left – are undoubtedly talented writers, but do struggle outside of the comfort zone of the written page or webspace. The World of Stuart forum recently criticised Charlie Brooker’s Screenwipe for being like watching someone reading out their weekly column into an autocue.

Dave mentions Dominik Diamond as someone who’s transcended the games arena. It’s true that at the time, Diamond did a reasonable job of presenting GamesMaster. The thing to remember is that he wasn’t a games journalist before landing the job, and he’s never been able to cut it as a games journalist since. The proof of that is in his embarrassingly unfunny column for kids’ comic PC Zone that’s now been axed, but Diamond at least bowed out with his dignity by taking the piss out of his crucifixion disaster and admitting how much the readers hated his monthly deposit in his final article.

Perry also thinks that there are no games celebrities because the viewers keep slagging off the limp excuses masquerading as games TV that sometimes pop up instead of supporting them. The fundamental problem with that argument is that viewers slag off shows like Bits and Games Network’s crap because they’re utter shit scraped from the crack of a PR’s arse.

The reason that there aren’t any proper games celebrities is partly down to the paucity of genuinely talented games writers, and the undeniable truth that television (and podcasting and all that shit) are totally different mediums. The solution is simple – bring back the tried and tested talent from the past. Get Perry and Diamond onto a show together, have Jaz Rignall lurking around talking about new games in the background, and bring in some underrated talent like the wonderful Chris Long. Make decent TV shows with decent presenters, and the majority will watch and support them. We’re only here to criticise shit.

NGJ In A Single Quote

You should know now that we hate New Games Journalism. We’ve spent many posts trying to explain exactly what it is we loathe about this pretentious form of masturbation dressed up as journalism, an excuse for the writer to talk about themselves instead of telling the reader about the game, but we’ve found something that does the job much better than we can.

We were watching a film today about a journalist who likes to write about herself in her articles, just like the NGJ elitorati. When she met the subject of her latest article for the first time, he pulled her up on her love of talking about herself and, accidentally, brilliantly summed up everything that’s so wrong about NGJ from the reader’s point of view:


“Whenever I read one of these interviews where the writer says, ‘This is how I felt the morning I woke up to meet the pope. This is how I felt when the pope greeted me and how the pope reminded me so much of my very best friend Mike’, I always think ‘Who the fuck is Mike?’. So who are you?”


This is the best passage from a film we’ve ever heard.

Back in the glory days of Your Sinclair, Zzap! and, later, Amiga Power, the games industry was full of writers with character. If you were dedicated, (and most games mag readers were back then, as casual gamers were unheard of) you could often tell who was the author of a review without checking the name at the end. Stuart Campbell, Jaz Rignall, Dave Perry, Matt Bielby, and countless others we could mention, all had a style so unique they couldn’t disguise their identities if they tried. This was great because they all had their own favourite genres, and different ideas about what made a game worth playing. Perry loved his 2D beat-em-ups, and Campbell would rip the beating heart from anything that was slightly less than perfect. The reader could relate to the writers. They could tell who liked the kind of games they liked, and follow their opinions.

In short, reviewers could get away with and had every right to refer to each other in their reviews. Now, this does not work.

Several mags and websites are guilty of self-reference to the point of self-worship. Lines like “Craig’s moaning as usual” or “Neville’s up to his usual tricks” might be highly amusing to anyone who knows who Craig or Neville are and what they’re like, but in reality a huge percentage of the readers haven’t got a fucking clue. We don’t like picking on people (actually, that’s a lie) but the unreliable Eurogamer is a perfect example, with its stack of reviewers constantly name-checking each other. It reads like a giant in-joke and alienates anyone who isn’t a games writer, or a reader so infatuated with games reviewers that they practically stalk them. In other words, over 99% of the readers are being made to feel left out by this needless and pathetic mutual backslapping by games journos.

There’s a place for this kind of thing – blogs. Reviews are for talking about gameplay and cracking a few funnies along the way, not for using as an excuse to inflict a page of someone’s tragic autobiography onto readers who just want to know what a game’s like and be entertained.

To go back to that most excellent of quotes, the message is simple. Games reviewers need to stop talking about themselves and their “very best friend Mike”. The majority of games reviewers aren’t interesting or high-profile enough for most readers to know who the fuck they are, never mind their very best friend Mike. We know who they are, and who their very best friend Mike is, and it bores the tits off of us, so we pity the poor readers who have to wade through this drivel without that knowledge.

Film reviewers don’t talk about themselves and their friends. TV reviewers don’t talk about themselves and their friends. Tech reviewers don’t talk about themselves and their friends. Newspaper reporters don’t talk about themselves and their friends. Games reviewers need to stop talking about themselves and their friends because they’re just not interesting enough. Make yourselves interesting, and maybe you’ll get away with it again. That’s too tall an order though, and we all know it.

“I always think ‘Who the fuck is Mike?’. So who are you?”

Quote Of The Week

“Gay men are more tech savy with a higher penetration”

Courtesy of Sony UK Product Manager Liam Quigley in last week’s MCV. Liam, you’re a comedy genius.

How To Be A Games Journalist - In 10 Easy Steps

For someone that likes games, writing about them for money sounds like a dream job. If you’ve learnt anything from this site, you’ll know it’s not. Everyone who wants to be a games journalist has heard this warning but still wants to do it anyway, as they assume they won’t become as cynical as the scores of journalists giving the warnings. If that sounds like you, here’s the RAM Raider’s definitive guide to becoming a games journalist.

Read Stuart Campbell’s guide

Stuart Campbell wrote his “So you want to be a videogames journalist?” guide for Digitiser over 8 years ago, before he was exiled, but it’s still essential reading. The gist is you need to do loads of reading of good and bad writing. He also predicted games magazines would be better in five years from when he wrote that article. We’re still waiting.

Don’t bother with journalistic qualifications / training

A common question with an easy answer is whether it's worth spending time doing a writing course or degree in journalism. Don’t bother. Honestly – you’re either a good writer or you’re not. If you’re not, getting qualifications in journalism isn’t going to make any difference – you might end up being slightly less shit, but you’ll still be shit. Magazines never look at what qualifications you’ve got, only at whether the stuff you’re writing makes sense and is entertaining. Practice writing – write sample reviews, copy the styles of writers you like, and eventually you’ll find your way. Editors receive loads of begging letters wanting jobs, but most of them are dire – if you can write, you’ll be noticed.

Don’t bother learning about games

In the land of make-believe, game reviewers know their subject inside out (just like the magazines always claim their writers do) and can write brilliantly. In the real world, only being able to write is important. Seriously – the people we know in the industry who know fuck all about games is astonishing. Ask many staff writers of prominent mags what they think of some major releases, and they’ll look at you blankly or mutter something about “not having time to play those yet”. The knowledge you already have from playing games is enough. Anything else can be easily picked up through web research (Gamespot.com is your friend). You’re not entering a twilight zone where everyone knows everything about games – chances are they know less than you.

Expect shit pay

Nobody writes about games to get rich. When you start as a staff writer, you’ll be paid around £10,000 to £12,000 a year for a lot of hours and have to contend with living in an expensive city. A lot of staffers supplement their pay by freelancing on the side, but that’s extra work on top of what you’ll be landed with already. You can forget about going purely freelance for several years at least, and then only if you’re lucky.

Remove the word “morals” from your vocabulary

This is so you don’t get pissed off with being lied to, and having to lie to your readers. Everyone lies in the industry – you’ll be lied to daily by PR scum, who are all mentally incapable of forming a sentence without including some bullshit. You’ll also have to lie to your readers by writing previews of games you’ve not played (Gamespot.com is still your friend) or writing reviews based on unfinished code. If you’re really good at lying, you’ll be offered a place at Official Xbox 360 Magazine. The advertisers tell the publishers what to do, and they tell you what to do, so if you can’t lie, you won’t get any work.

Join the old-boy’s network

You’re not in unless you’re in. To be really in, you have to be in a gang. The way the magazine industry is run at the moment means to really get ahead, you’ll have to apply for membership of the Bath Elitorati or the London Cronies Network. Which one you go for depends where you live or where you’re willing to move to, but the Bath Elitorati consists of Edge, GamesMaster, PC Gamer, some PS2 mags, Gillen, and alumni Campbell, and the London Cronies Network comprises the Xbox magazines, some more PS2 mags, PC Zone, and UK:R lad Cutlack. If you have a choice, go for the Bath Elitorati. Joining an old-boy’s network is as simple as getting staff work on a games mag and forcing yourself to socialise with the other writers. Once you’re in, you’ll be used when freelance work is being handed out. If not, it doesn’t matter how good your writing is – old boys come first.

Expect your gaming hobby to die

Writing about games changes the way you play them. At first, for a long time, you’ll be getting all the shit to plough through. You’ll also be subjected to unrealistic deadlines forcing you to cut corners, and the rate at which new games will be fired at you means you’ll have little time to devote to games you'd choose to play. Playing games before they’re released sounds great but the novelty wears thin quickly, especially when you have to go to a PR office and try to look interested as a husk lies about it in your ear or patronises you as you manage to shoot a barn door. Press trips aren’t free holidays, and press events are mostly shit.

Start an anonymous blog

After you’ve spent precious years of your life ruining your hobby for not much money, you’ll be due a mental breakdown. Venting in an anonymous blog is the perfect way to waste work-time as publicly as possible, and is the best massively-multiplayer online text adventure you’ll ever play.

- Sit at desk (enter)
- Check coast is clear (enter)
- Load Blogger (enter)
- Type “WELL-KNOWN ED models himself on Dr. Fox” (enter)
- Wait one hour (enter)
- Listen (enter) (Hear someone saying “he says WELL-KNOWN ED looks like Dr. Fox” whilst tittering)
- Wait (enter) (Receive e-mail from WELL-KNOWN ED blowing it out of proportion)
- Receive ten points

It beats the fuck out of In Memoriam.

Build a time machine

Ask anyone who was writing about games about 15-20 years ago what it was like, and you’ll see a happy look wash over them. It was joy. Games were better. Times were simpler. The whole thing was less corporate, and you could get away with writing copy that was funny and THE TRUTH. Those days have long gone, so the only way you’ll get paid to write about games without selling your soul is to climb into a Delorean and hit 88.

Don’t work as a games writer

You’ve not got a Delorean, so forget it. Get out whilst you're still young. You can get free games without selling your soul to “the man” and spoiling your hobby by downloading them. If you think the world of gaming is great, carry on letting ignorance be bliss. Most of all, make something of your life. Leave a legacy, or make loads of money, or do anything that makes you happy. Writing about videogames isn’t where it’s at. Not any more.

If you’re going for it though, good luck! And don't say we didn't warn you...

Introversion’s New Clothes

There’s been some buzz recently about Brit developer Introversion winning three prizes at the IGF awards. We read about their success on Gillen’s site and tried to comment on it, but he’s installed some new spam filter that’s so effective it’s stopped twats like us from posting. He said he’d put our comment up then fell unconscious into his nightly drug-induced Oblivion haze and forgot, so here it is:

“What's ironic is that they won an award for a game that needed to be 'fucked with' by publishers. Uplink was a better game that didn't stink of self-indulgence. Defcon looks promising though - be nice if they finish it before releasing it.

'Being likeable is over-rated.'

Good quote Gillen - I'll drink to that.”

First of all, we’ll get the nicey-nicey bit out of the way – we’re genuinely pleased that Introversion has been given some awards, as the guys in the team deserve them for their past achievements. Now for the bit we’re going to be lynched for: Darwinia didn’t deserve those prizes.

The three awards they won were for technical excellence, innovation in visual art, and the “Grand Prize”. Darwinia isn’t a technically excellent game. It doesn’t run as smoothly as games that look much better, and the gesture system was so ridiculous they virtually admitted it was ludicrous and unnecessary by adding in an alternative system in a patch. There’s no AI there either – Lemmings let you set waypoints, and that was 15 years ago.

Ironically, the unreliable Eurogamer’s review of Uplink (where a mysteriously unnamed reviewer gave it an undeservedly low score of 7/10) is more appropriate to Darwinia:

“Sadly graphical glitches, [and] a slightly awkward interface… lets it down somewhat, but it's still well worth a look if you fancy something completely different.”

We’re not arguing with the “innovation in visual design” award, as its style is original and arresting, but the “Grand Prize”? Really? We’ve played better independently developed games over the last year, and so has everyone else.

We don’t mean to sit here tearing into Darwinia. Games that are poorly executed and aren’t properly tested are released all the time. What we’re really getting at is we find it ironic that, despite Introversion’s speech at the awards, they were in desperate need of a publisher “fucking up” Darwinia, assuming by “fucking up” they meant “play-testing and ironing out obvious design flaws before release.”

But why are so many industry names and figures spreading their ejaculate all over Darwinia when it’s not very good? When Uplink was first released, it was ignored by most of the industry.

Uplink is a classic game, but with the exception of PC Gamer’s early review thanks to Gillen noticing its brilliance, it won no awards, and barely registered on most of the industry’s radar. It was left to the gamers and consumers to discover and support. Now it’s too late to sing the praises of Uplink, the industry has entered into a “guilt” phase of trumpeting Introversion as the saviours of gaming. Projecting the success of Uplink onto the inferior Darwinia, and defending any misguided views with the response that Introversion are British independent developers and therefore “cool,” (so that means any shortcomings in their game is excusable, natch) or it’s been designed for higher beings to understand, the industry has shown itself as being about four years out of touch. Worse, it patronises Introversion and cheapens their success.

We’re looking forward to seeing Defcon, as Uplink is proof that Introversion can make good games. If it’s bad though, we hope the industry has the guts to judge it objectively and say so.

Another Awful Review, And A Press Release

Our readers have been on top form this week, alerting us to two points of ridicule. The first follows last week’s report on PC Gamer’s wank-stained review of Oblivion. Tom Francis’ hopeless attempt at padding / NGJ / whatever-excuse-him-and-his-mates-are-using can’t even claim to be original, as a hawk-eyed reader spotted the unreliable Eurogamer.net had beaten him to it with its review of Animal Crossing: Wild World.

Written by some guy called Mathew Kumar, (if this was Harry Hill’s TV Burp, the audience would be unfunnily shouting out “who?” – he's a freelancer for places like InsertCredit) the 2344 word review is peppered with exactly the same brand of jizz. Here’s the intro:

“The first thing I remember is waking up in the back of a warm taxi cab, speeding through the driving rain. The driver, a frog, introduces himself as the Kapp'n, and asks me a variety of questions to find out who I am - secretly it helps me ascertain that very thing myself. It turns out my name is Mathew. I'm heading to the town of NewGenki, a small town populated by animals, and I have no money to pay the fare.”

No Mathew, you’re having a bad trip.

Over a third of the text is taken up by this meaningless drivel, making it a 1500 word review (complete with typos – well done EG’s sub-eds) padded to the ends of the earth. Check this out for a finale:

“In the middle of the night I awaken, and look over at her, sleeping peacefully in her little bed fit for one. Some nights I could just watch her sleep. I put on my goggles, an awesome purchase from the Mabel sisters that makes me look super cool, even with a bee sting, and walk out into the empty streets, heading for the museum's observatory. The lyrics of Aerogramme's 'In Gratitude' run through my head - "I wanted to show you the stars... I wanted to show you the stars.”

I inscribe her name into the heavens and send her a letter, those lyrics the only content.”

Man alive, we couldn’t make this shit up.

And now back to the world of PR, courtesy of another reader who sent us a press release from RR favourite Crazy Frazer Nash. Headed “Teenage Goth-Metal girl designs extreme metal racing video game based in Hell”, the release is a load of empty platitudes about a racing game nobody has heard of, or ever will. Cue Frazer:

“Frazer Nash of Frazer Nash Communications describes how his daughter created the game during work experience at developer, DDI: “Sky, then just 15, was given a huge responsibility to design her own (tongue in cheek) game. By the end of the first week, she had created a Gothic-looking game, complete with drafted levels and an awesome soundtrack. 12 months on and with professional development courtesy of Sam King and Mike Rooker (art), Mark Gemmell (production), Karl White and Julian Salter (Programming) at DDI. (Looks like you forgot to finish your sentence there, Frazer - RR) Aimed to appeal to Goth / Rock music fans the world over, Metro 3D have created EARACHE EXTREME METAL RACING - a monster of a game.””

Stop the presses – it’s a racing game set to rock music. With bands like Linea 77 and, umm, Akercocke, a new dawn for gaming has been heralded. And you heard it here first.

Anatomy Of A Poor Review

When a big release comes along, Future decides which of its mags will get the exclusive. The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion is one of the biggest releases this year, so they gave it to their best selling PC games mag, PC Gamer. But after allocating EIGHT pages for the review, reviewer Tom Francis has managed to fuck it up. Considering he had EIGHT pages to fill, you can’t blame the guy for having trouble finding stuff to waffle on about, but resorting to padding it with NGJ is inexcusable.

The shit starts on the second page of writing where the review suddenly stops, and Francis starts blathering on like he’s a character in the game:

“I dismount a good distance from the entrance and creep the rest of the way. Stealth, my friends. The cave floor’s wet inside, but a master like me is still near-silent when – aaaarrghh!”

We were wondering whether that last bit was where the sub-editor had committed suicide, but it goes on. And on. And on, taking up three-quarters of the page. Then another “story” begins on the next page taking up half the page, until by the end you’ve been subjected to four of them.

What’s worse than taking up a third of the review with that shit is the justification he gives for it:

“It would be more informative – and more importantly, fun for me – to recount some of my adventures…”

There you go folks – it’s there in black and white. It’s much more important for a review to be fun for the reviewer to indulge himself with writing tedious bollocks than it is to be informative.

To give Francis credit, the proper OGJ review parts aren’t bad, but why give the reviewer EIGHT pages when he can’t fill them without resorting to padding? Perhaps he struggled to meet his word count because he had to drag himself to Take 2’s offices to play through their code (which went gold after the magazine had gone to print) whilst a PR husk was perched on his shoulder. He says in the review that he spent at least 30 hours playing it, but that would have meant going down there every day, 9am-5pm, for a whole week. [EDIT: OK, we've got reliable information from Gillen that he did, but our criticisms stand]

Reviewing pre-gold code in the publisher’s office isn’t good practice, but it’s not uncommon. PC Gamer’s bitch PC Zone did the same for Oblivion, and all Future’s mags do the same for big releases. Reviewers had to fly overseas to review Half-Life 2, but the reviewer-to-magazine ratio meant some of them had to write the review more than once so different versions (by the same reviewer) could appear in different mags.

We’re going to get rounded on now by PC Gamer’s brigade for daring to criticise them, but we’ve got no problem with the rest of the mag. They just fucked up their review of one of the biggest releases of the year because Future would rather send reviewers to PR offices to play pre-gold code than wait for finalised code for the reviewer to play through properly. You can judge for yourself when the mag’s in the shops on Thursday, and tell us what you think.

A Review Of A Review – NGJ ALERT

The RAM Raider jumps on the NGJ bandwagon for a review of an NGJ review.


I took a deep breath in the blistering heat. The aroma of sweat, dust and overpowering perfume filled my lungs. Approaching the desk, passport in hand and fighting my way through a crowd speaking in an unfamiliar dialect, I asked where I could find what I was looking for. The checkout assistant pointed me towards the sorry selection of games magazines, and looked baffled when spotting the passport. I ventured over to the magazines. Between Microsoft and Sony’s manifestos and collections of press releases masquerading as journalism, I dodged the comics and picked up something with a glossy cover. My journey into another world had begun.

I’ve had an extraordinary life. At any one time, there are thousands of twee anecdotes ready to be unleashed upon anyone brave enough to commission me. There’s one that immediately springs to mind when reading this review. I’m two paragraphs in, and have learnt about a free trip abroad lavished upon the author, paid for by the game’s marketers. Suddenly, the memories of these futile and pointless trips that I have been subjected to – personally, and through reading the accounts of reviewers – flood into my mind. It dawns on me that the second paragraph has finished, and nothing of any relevance to the game has been mentioned.

Where do anecdotes end, and autobiographies begin? If readers want to know about the achingly cosmopolitan lifestyle reviewers would like their readers to think they have, they would buy books (“My Life Travelling Through The Virtual World” by M.Y. Egotrip), or read their blogs. God forbid they should restrict their fictionalised lives to those mediums though – why not just serialise them in their reviews.

Reaching the end now, and I’m feeling elation. Elation that the review will be over soon, and the manager will stop looking at me in that way. Shuffling my weight to the other foot, I pick up an aside about how the reviewer has personal issues with the type of game he’s reviewing. His editor must be a genius.

Closing the magazine, a haze of mediocrity washes over my mind as I’m dragged from the shop by security. The manager reminds me that it’s not a library, and counters my protest that I’m researching NGJ with the revelation that I should fuck off to an Internet café. Of course! There’ll be plenty more there. On the way I stroll into GAME, and hiss at the zitty lowlife who thinks about telling me to buy Fifa. As I approach the game I was thinking about buying, I realise that I still know nothing about it. After three pages, and over one thousand words, I still don’t actually know what the game is about. Its genre. How to play it. Whether it’s worth buying.

I could read the back of the box or pick up an official magazine. Both results would be the same. Alternatively, I could carry on making a point to avoid NGJ, because it’s self-indulgent shit that’s subjective to the point of lunacy, boring and uninformative. A blog in disguise. This is where our journey in the games industry is going. I don’t want to know when we’re going to get there, I just know I don’t want to be there.

Never again will I write in the style of NGJ. The risk of getting fashionably emo and killing myself is too high...