The following is an excerpt from my list Errant Thoughts on Games I've Never Played Before/Haven't Played Too Much
An extension of: Domina
I've gone into detail about this in the past, but I'm a bit mixed on the auteur theory. Something that I hadn't considered while writing that review is prominent voices like Hideo Kojima and Sam Lake. Another thing I had missed is that even though it's a less enthusiastic play now than it was then, the other BioShock games that aren't Infinite still hold up. With that in mind, has my mind changed at all? It's a tough call to make, honestly. But, to have a spine and not be chickenshit about this, I have to say that I err more towards the side of directors providing guidance and not control. If the director's vision needs to be altered to fill in a gap, or because it's too broad or narrow, it absolutely should be. There's an anecdote told by James Stephanie Sterling in their video on the work culture of Rockstar Games circa 2019 that epitomizes the underlying problem when you confuse guidance with control. A developer wanted to make an improvement to Rockstar's often criticized combat mechanics, seeking to modernize systems that, even at their glitziest, have always felt out of the PS2 era but with slightly more bells and whistles attached. For this, they were fired. While I do enjoy aspects of the combat in Red Dead Redemption II, it still leaves something to be desired, and it all leaves me to ask if the game would have had more personality if the bosses in charge of the project hadn't demanded there be less. But that's assuming you're working in a team of hundreds, thousands of developers across continents, spanning budgets in the millions, backed by one of the largest firms in all of entertainment. Say you're on a team smaller than that with about twelve people; how fucked are you? Say you're working with five people, and one of them's declining feedback because they want to be the auteur who takes all of the praise and gives none; how fucked are you? Say you're working for TinyBuild, trying to bring a project by one Alex Mahan up to snuff so that it may be sold, bought, and enjoyed after several years of anticipation. You're just plain fucked then, aren't you?
I see myself in Mahan just a little bit. I don't see myself in the way he sought after a minor in the position of power he held, nor do I see myself in him as someone who needed everything to be his way or the highway. Sometimes, things don't work out. And you could take the easy route. You could always just break up with her, after all. Or you could plead, beg for a relationship that was a non-starter to flourish into something it never wants to because you have this pit in your stomach that says you have nothing else. You could have the heater on in your room, a blanket covering every inch of your skin, a jacket on, every light in your house on, and be around the laughter of others, and you'd still feel as though your body was below ten layers of ice. As children, we're taught about courage as an act of collectivism. What they seldom teach you is that it can also be an act of selfish kindness that coincidentally has the opposite effect on occasion. I feel for Mahan; I didn't learn this when I was supposed to, either. I was a coward, and just admitting that felt more damaging to myself at the time than anything you could hurl at me.
And so I see in Yandere Simulator a wannabe auteur, desperate and uncertain, hungry for the positive attention his other interests don't get him as much. Fanmail that was, at once, the beating heart of his endeavors and the unfortunate kidney stones of his pursuits; offers from publishers based purely on the word of mouth he'd gotten; voice actors who couldn't care less about the crassness of the material they were working with because he would make their names important. Was he too narrow-sighted to see that very few were excited about Yandere Simulator for the reasons he was? As someone who desires to mirror the impact art has had on my life, I feel for the vulnerability of this position. It's unsettling to know that the pieces of myself that I would like to shed one day might very well keep me an arm's length away from those I'd wish to speak to. But that's the trade-off. You either accept that, or you get the fuck out before it's too late. And Mahan stayed. He dwaddled, taking constructive criticism like artillery, maintaining a sheer defiance toward compromise and personal growth. He is just one of many inhabitants aboard The Stagnant Cruise, and before it blew up in his face, we were all watching. Godspeed, you impotent, godless child of dirt and concrete. Godspeed to you now 'cause you aren't getting much more than this, pity, and two cents from the remnants of a dollar store newspaper stand in 2023.
The real tragedy is that there isn't much to ask here. What can you learn from the failure of Yandere Simulator? It's all on the tin. Don't be too ambitious, don't be too cocky, and, on that note, think less often with your cock. Do think with your coq out, though, because chickens are beautiful little creatures and deserve all the love and care they can get. At least they're more fun to think about than the Cum Chalice kid choosing to stay out of the joke. Alex, my man, that's not going to go away anytime soon. You made a goof of yourself, and it's funny! Play into that, liven up! Nobody's getting hurt, and your ego doesn't need to suffer for it if you just learn to laugh along.
Christ, was it that hard?
An extension of: Domina
I've gone into detail about this in the past, but I'm a bit mixed on the auteur theory. Something that I hadn't considered while writing that review is prominent voices like Hideo Kojima and Sam Lake. Another thing I had missed is that even though it's a less enthusiastic play now than it was then, the other BioShock games that aren't Infinite still hold up. With that in mind, has my mind changed at all? It's a tough call to make, honestly. But, to have a spine and not be chickenshit about this, I have to say that I err more towards the side of directors providing guidance and not control. If the director's vision needs to be altered to fill in a gap, or because it's too broad or narrow, it absolutely should be. There's an anecdote told by James Stephanie Sterling in their video on the work culture of Rockstar Games circa 2019 that epitomizes the underlying problem when you confuse guidance with control. A developer wanted to make an improvement to Rockstar's often criticized combat mechanics, seeking to modernize systems that, even at their glitziest, have always felt out of the PS2 era but with slightly more bells and whistles attached. For this, they were fired. While I do enjoy aspects of the combat in Red Dead Redemption II, it still leaves something to be desired, and it all leaves me to ask if the game would have had more personality if the bosses in charge of the project hadn't demanded there be less. But that's assuming you're working in a team of hundreds, thousands of developers across continents, spanning budgets in the millions, backed by one of the largest firms in all of entertainment. Say you're on a team smaller than that with about twelve people; how fucked are you? Say you're working with five people, and one of them's declining feedback because they want to be the auteur who takes all of the praise and gives none; how fucked are you? Say you're working for TinyBuild, trying to bring a project by one Alex Mahan up to snuff so that it may be sold, bought, and enjoyed after several years of anticipation. You're just plain fucked then, aren't you?
I see myself in Mahan just a little bit. I don't see myself in the way he sought after a minor in the position of power he held, nor do I see myself in him as someone who needed everything to be his way or the highway. Sometimes, things don't work out. And you could take the easy route. You could always just break up with her, after all. Or you could plead, beg for a relationship that was a non-starter to flourish into something it never wants to because you have this pit in your stomach that says you have nothing else. You could have the heater on in your room, a blanket covering every inch of your skin, a jacket on, every light in your house on, and be around the laughter of others, and you'd still feel as though your body was below ten layers of ice. As children, we're taught about courage as an act of collectivism. What they seldom teach you is that it can also be an act of selfish kindness that coincidentally has the opposite effect on occasion. I feel for Mahan; I didn't learn this when I was supposed to, either. I was a coward, and just admitting that felt more damaging to myself at the time than anything you could hurl at me.
And so I see in Yandere Simulator a wannabe auteur, desperate and uncertain, hungry for the positive attention his other interests don't get him as much. Fanmail that was, at once, the beating heart of his endeavors and the unfortunate kidney stones of his pursuits; offers from publishers based purely on the word of mouth he'd gotten; voice actors who couldn't care less about the crassness of the material they were working with because he would make their names important. Was he too narrow-sighted to see that very few were excited about Yandere Simulator for the reasons he was? As someone who desires to mirror the impact art has had on my life, I feel for the vulnerability of this position. It's unsettling to know that the pieces of myself that I would like to shed one day might very well keep me an arm's length away from those I'd wish to speak to. But that's the trade-off. You either accept that, or you get the fuck out before it's too late. And Mahan stayed. He dwaddled, taking constructive criticism like artillery, maintaining a sheer defiance toward compromise and personal growth. He is just one of many inhabitants aboard The Stagnant Cruise, and before it blew up in his face, we were all watching. Godspeed, you impotent, godless child of dirt and concrete. Godspeed to you now 'cause you aren't getting much more than this, pity, and two cents from the remnants of a dollar store newspaper stand in 2023.
The real tragedy is that there isn't much to ask here. What can you learn from the failure of Yandere Simulator? It's all on the tin. Don't be too ambitious, don't be too cocky, and, on that note, think less often with your cock. Do think with your coq out, though, because chickens are beautiful little creatures and deserve all the love and care they can get. At least they're more fun to think about than the Cum Chalice kid choosing to stay out of the joke. Alex, my man, that's not going to go away anytime soon. You made a goof of yourself, and it's funny! Play into that, liven up! Nobody's getting hurt, and your ego doesn't need to suffer for it if you just learn to laugh along.
Christ, was it that hard?