Category: Series

Changing Pop-Culture to Change Ourselves [Understanding Popular Culture, Part 4]

tekanji

In the opening of this series, I talked about how popular culture influenced us because it’s all around us. I talked about how it becomes the elephant in the room because of that. But what I didn’t talk about was how popular culture fits into our battle to change harmful cultural paradigms. And, really, that’s a glaring oversight that I intend to correct right now.

You see, I came across a post today (… oy. by Julia) that gave me one of those headsmacking, “OH!” moments. Not because I agree with her — far from it, I’m about to spend this entire post rebutting the points that she made — but because I finally understand the basis for the argument that [x] concern needs to be shelved so [y] and [z] concern can be taken care of first.

I. Chicken or the Egg Syndrome

So much of what happens in comics seems to be based on predispositions of society. The sexualization won’t really change until society changes and doesn’t, as a whole, view it as being so acceptable.

I’m not going to dispute Julia’s assertion that “much of what happens in comics seems to be based on predispositions of society,” because, well, I agree. Popular culture draws its themes, plots, dialogue, stereotypes, and all that other good stuff from our existing culture. Nothing exists in a vacuum, and it would be naive to pretend that the treatment of women in comics/movies/etc. is self-contained.

But, at the same time, nothing exists in a vacuum. Popular culture doesn’t just draw from society, it is part of what shapes it. Popular culture has been around as long as societies have existed — being inspired by, reinforcing, and ultimately shaping society. Because of this, presenting the problem as linear — “culture –> popular culture” — is misleading. The reality is that the relationship is a circle, with popular culture influencing society and society in turn influencing popular culture.

II. Debunking the “Cause-Effect” Theory

Simply stated, my issue is with the cause and not the effect, because the effect will not dissipate until the cause is eliminated. I would truly like to see things change! But in order for that to happen the root of the problem has to be attacked, and that root is so large that it will take decades, probably, even with all the troops called in (and hopefully behaving themselves).

Bearing in mind what I said in Section I, I’d like to now turn to Julia’s argument that her “issue is with the cause and not the effect, because the effect will not dissipate until the cause is eliminated.” Well, it should come as no surprise that I disagree with the way in which she chose to frame the issue. Here again, I have to say that the “cause-effect” relationship she sets up is misleading because it oversimplifies the issue.

What root of which problem? The sexualization of women? Well, that’s just one facet of the oppression that women face. The patriarchy? Two problems there: 1) it’s an abstract concept, not a concrete problem to be solved, and 2) it supposes that gender inequity is the root of all oppression. Even if you use the word as I sometimes do, as a feminist shorthand for the oppressive institutions that legitimize hierarchies of power, “fighting oppression” is a starting point, not a path to success.

There is no concrete “root” because the problem of oppression intersects all kinds of different cultures. And, frankly, the group who we often think of as our feminist foremothers didn’t just fail to solve the problem of oppression because they didn’t have enough time, but because their idea of what the “root of all oppression” was too narrow. You can’t solve oppression by telling everyone to adopt your particular brand of tunnel vision.

III. The Importance of Recognizing Intersectionality

Let me clarify about the “particular brand of tunnel vision” thing. I don’t think having tunnel vision is a bad thing. We all have our pet topics and that’s cool. Some of us are more focused than others. Studying popular culture is probably my main focus, but since I love cross-sections I also keep abreast of other topics such as feminist issues,
human sexuality, and general oppression work. I don’t think that this is inherently better or worse than someone who chooses one topic, or even a smaller subset of topics, to focus on.

In fact, I’d go one step farther to say that the only way I think we’ll ever have a chance at winning the battle against oppression (as much as one can “win” such a thing) is if we wage this war on multiple levels. I believe that every fight we fight — whether it be against domestic violence or raising our voices against the overabundance of “sexy girls who kick ass” in popular media — is a valuable one. I believe every stride we make, however small and however flawed, should be appreciated.

That doesn’t mean that we have no right to critique it, but rather that the critique shouldn’t be done from a “our time could be spent better elsewhere.” Maybe your time could be spent better elsewhere, but you do not speak for me. If what speaks to you is fighting sexism on a societal level and shelving popular culture, then that’s wonderful! I, for one, am glad that there are activist out there who tackle issues that I don’t have the time and/or energy for.

IV. If the Goal is Unattainable, Why Bother?

And we can’t just snap our fingers and change society. Nor will a small group of people have that large of an impact on the world, in this case. It’s a monumental, impractical and impossible task to attempt, that at this point in time will lead to failure, and then disappointment, resentment and anger over that failure.

No matter how many times I read this quote, all I can think of is, “Oh, come on. Let’s be serious here.” The same can be said of feminism, or civil rights activism, or, really, any cause where people struggle against the way society is. It’s an uphill battle with few victories, and if you’re fighting for the glory you’d just as soon be better off cheering from the sidelines because it ain’t gonna happen.

But, faliure as a reason why we shouldn’t fight for our pet projects? Faliure? I mean, sure, there are some days when I look at what we do to each other and feel that the cause is hopeless. My blogging doesn’t stop the misogynists. It doesn’t stop the feminist infighting. It doesn’t stop the sexualization of women, inside or outside of comics. And if that’s a goal I expect to attain then, yeah, I’m going to fail.

When I, and I suspect many other people who fight oppression in whatever form they like best, say things like “ending the sexualization of women in comic books” is a goal of mine, I don’t mean that it’s my expectation that I, personally, will lead the crusade that once and for all eradicates the way women are used and abused in comics. I’m pretty sure that’s not what Girl Wonder thinks either. That kind of goal is known as a “long term goal” — which means that it’s the ideal that we strive for with our activism. It gives us a common goal from which to form a community.

Maybe one day this community will be big enough to make an impact. Maybe it won’t. But it’s stupid to just give up on fighting for what you believe in because you might not be around to see the main goal come to fruition. And, really, if everyone thought like that then the goal wouldn’t come to fruition! Fighting oppression starts with education — education of ourselves and spreading the awareness to others. If even one person becomes more informed on the issue, and therefore less likely to unthinkingly endorse it, then haven’t we already won?

V. Conclusion

There is no one way to fight for what we believe in. There’s no one topic, no magic button to press to get where we want. We all push our way through life doing the best we can. And, yeah, we’ll make mistakes. We’ll let our anger get the better of us and we’ll hurt each other. And it should be talked about and it should be discussed.

Because, really, discussion is what we all need. We’re not always going to agree, and we’re not always going to understand why another person does something else. And, you know what? That’s perfectly fine. It’s not all thinking the same way that’s the goal, it’s learning to understand our differences and change ourselves so we can change society.

Can We Only Win for Losing? [Understanding Popular Culture, Part 3]

tekanji

One thing that will invariably come up when discussing popular culture, especially where advertising is concerned, is that it’s stupid to talk about it because that’s what advertisers want. Take, for instance, the Burger King commercial that was talked about over at RMAN and on this blog, too. After some random LJ-er linked us to poke fun at how we got “upset” over the “humour” (cue me rolling my eyes), we both got a few negative comments on our sites. One over at Luke’s place really stuck with me, though.

Well, you guys are talking about the commercial, so I suppose it is doing its job. You noticed it didnt you?

Comments like those are far from atypical. The message is clear: if you do nothing, the message perpetuated by popular culture remains unchallenged, but if you critique the problematic product, then all you’re doing is spreading the message. It seems like a lose-lose situation, right? Sometimes I do wonder.

Is it true, though? Is it better to say nothing, then to spread the message through critique?

I. Value in Silence?

This one is hard for me to think seriously about. I have never been one to be quiet on an important matter, no matter what it costs me. Why else would one blog, anyway? But, what, if anything, is the value of saying nothing? The immediate answer here is that it mitigates the exposure of the product. Using the Burger King example again, if Luke hadn’t posted about it, likely I would have never seen it. I would barely have known about its existence, as I scrolled past the thread on the feminist LJ about it. By talking about it, we have made more people aware of it.

And, really, I get that. A large part of the success or failure of advertising is measured by exposure. In that case, the Burger King commercial is the “winner” in the situation. Would my silence on the matter have made it a “loser”, though? Well, let’s examine my possible courses for action that wouldn’t perpetuate the commercial:

  1. Engage in a Personal Boycott:
    Well, this one is a failure already. I haven’t eaten a BK product in 6 years, due to health concerns and being uncomfortable with the business practices of fast food restaurants. In general, though, I’d argue that a single person boycott isn’t all that effective. Also, trying to explain to others the reasoning behind your bocott without being specific about the objectionable media kind of diminishes the effectiveness of the explanation.
  2. Be Vague About the Issue:
    Since the problem with the commercial is a problem of culture, it’s entirely possible to address the issue without actually referencing the commercial. This is not a terrible tactic, but it removes the important link between cultural problems and popular culture.
  3. Just Contact the Company:
    This is another option that isn’t a bad choice. Part of activism does hinge upon people making their voices known to the company. Sometimes the company makes a change, sometimes it doesn’t. However, this option is made much less effective if one cannot engage with the material in trying to spread the word about the issues.

As is probably obvious from my explanations, I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with any of those actions, but I don’t think that they’re enough. What, then, is so important that it’s worth the risk of making a bad piece of popular culture even more popular?

II. Risking It All For… What?

As you are probably starting to realize, popular culture is an important issue to me. Talking about popular culture is important to me. Criticizing popular culture… well, that’s the bread and butter of this blog. In my previous posts, I’ve made cases here and there for why popular culture is important, and why it’s not as frivolous as we might think. Now I’m going to talk about why I think it’s worth the risk heightened exposure.

Every time I critique a product, I am aware that it will bring at least one commenter who is like, “Nya-nyah, your post made me want to buy the product! Good job!” Generally the tone of the post is condescending, and since they are dismissing the subject I’m talking about (both of which are violations of this blog’s discussion rules), I ban them and move on. For the other people who disagree with me — you know, the ones who read and abide by the rules of polite discussion — I must say that have gotten into some interesting conversations about popular culture. And, even though our original opinoins weren’t changed, I think the act of debating the subject was valuable in of itself.

Going back to the Burger King example… honestly, how many people would read a post like the one I made and buy a burger there just to spite me, or just because they saw a funny commercial? Let’s be honest here; those people would be buying the burgers there anyway. Hell, I’m not even necessarily advocating a boycott here! What I want is awarenes on the issues that are raised in the commerical. And even those who are spiteful about the issue have been made aware about it, even if they disagree.

III. Conclusion

What it boils down to, I think, is that when I critique popular culture, it’s not to hurt the companies exploiting the stereotypes or cultural norms. What one, or a dozen, or even a hundred bloggers say about an issue doesn’t have a significant impact on a multi-national company. Even if we gathered enough people to get the commercial pulled, what does BK lose? It got its commercial out, it got a reaction, and it would get press from the boycott issue. Big loss there.

No, I talk about this issues because I want to spread awareness on the ways in which those stereotypes and norms come to be accepted by most people. And, hopefully, to help people challenge those views, and to be more aware of what’s being communicated to them in other kinds of popular media. Maybe I’ll reach one person. Or maybe none. But, really, I’m of the mind that awareness is never a bad thing. A hard thing to live with sometimes, but never a bad thing.

Debunking the Myth of Frivolity [Understanding Popular Culture, Part 2]

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“It’s just a(n) [insert medium here]!” “It doesn’t restrict what I do or say, so lay off!” “Why don’t you focus on a real problem like [enter “real” topic here].” The list could go on. They’re all different takes on the same idea – popular culture just isn’t important enough to study or critique. That’s all I seem to hear from anyone who doesn’t have the same interest in looking at pop-culture and its intersections that I do. So often, in fact, that I’m beginning to think that most people find the critique of whatever medium is being discussed is so heinous that the mere discussion of it must be stopped immediately or they think they’ll spontaneously combust.

In my introduction, I addressed the general concern of frivolity; namely I said that it wasn’t, indeed, a frivolous topic, but rather one that has immediate relevancy in our lives. In this installment, I would like to examine and debunk the common myths that make up the claim of popular culture being less important a field than traditional ones.

I. It’s Fiction, Not Real Life!

The claim that “it’s only a game/TV show/movie/whatever!” is possibly the number one argument that I hear against critiquing popular culture. It is said as if, because it’s considered to be “entertainment,” no messages can be, or even are meant to be, gained from it. So, while pop-culture is not always real in the tangible sense (a video game world is not 100% the same as ours, for instance), it is as involved in persuading people as this article, or a book, or any other “acceptable” medium is. And, like with any other medium, those who produce popular media use varying tactics — both subtle and obvious — to get their message out. Those messages, whether we want to admit it or not, do have some sort of impact on the way we view ourselves and others.More realistic?

When you have a story — in a novel, a video game, or what have you — the correlation to, and therefore the impact on, real life is probably the most clear. Take Lara Croft, for instance. In an effort to promote realism, she’s gone through a redesign that is meant to make her more accessible (or perhaps take the wind out of the sails of naysayers who think that she helps encourage the objectification of women).

On the one hand, a step towards a more realistic design can be seen as a good thing. When the players, both men and women, are exposed to women like Lara Croft who have a body shape no woman could ever have, it has a good chance of skewing their view of actual women; suddenly normal proportions are seen as “small” or “weird” or even “ugly”. But, making her more realistic — and therefore attainable — comes with its own set of problems.

As a gaming woman, I don’t find Lara Croft’s new proportions especially empowering or representative of me. It’s another message of how I ought to look so I can be sexy, confident, and poised. The consensus was that Croft was ridiculous, even from those who found her aesthetically pleasing. Now, she’s “realistic.” I could, theoretically, look like the new Lara Croft; she’s become within the realm of possibility existing.

[From A Lara Croft I Can Be by Lake Desire]

Lara Croft isn’t real. She’s pixels, vertices, skins… what amounts to an image on your computer or TV screen. But her impact on the minds of those who are exposed to her image, whether for good or ill, is real. And that impact is exactly what is, and what needs to be, addressed when we look at popular culture as a valid body of study.

II. What Makes a “Real” Problem?

Another favourite from the pop-culture bingo board is to make the argument that one should be focusing on real problems instead of this. You know, I’d really love to find the mythical quality that makes something “real” because it seems that everyone has their own opinion on what qualifies as a topic to be discussed. Women’s issues? Try again. Racism, that’s got to be “real”! Not unless it’s obvious. Oh, wait, I know, I know! Men’s issues. If they aren’t real, nothing is! That would be another negatory.

What I’m trying to say is that when you label an issue as “not real” in an attempt to dismiss the person speaking about it, the word “real” loses all meaning. It becomes shorthand for “things I believe in,” but, guess what? Just because you believe that one thing is more important than another doesn’t invalidate the subject at hand. Novel concept, I’m sure! You don’t think pop culture is important? Great, there’s the back button. Hit it and find a subject that does interest you.

Furthermore, this “I get to define what’s real and what’s not” argument is often used in place of actual criticism — dismissing the premise of the original argument means that the points made in it can continue to go unaddressed. Let’s take the controversial White Wolf game that spawned the original version of this post, Pimp the Backhanding. When it was brought to their attention, many feminist White Wolf fans e-mailed the company with their concerns.

The canned response that all of them got is simply shameful:

I’d recommend people that want to do something about actual abuse of women, as opposed to assaulting people because they are mocking the criminals that engage in illegal prostitution, check out this link, and go do something about it: http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/africa/01/08/congo.peacekeepers.sex/index.html

Or is it maybe too difficult to attack real world problems, so you would prefer to attack fictional ones?

Conrad Hubbard
White Wolf Publishing http://www.white-wolf.com
Sword & Sorcery http://www.swordsorcery.com
“Promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries” – U.S. Constitution

Violence against women? Never!Mr. Hubbard envokes our “go focus on a real issue” argument here. He first of all makes the usual mistake of assuming that speaking out on one issue means that the person therefore cannot, and does not, involve themselves in other issues. Or “mistake,” I should say. I’m fairly sure that in Hubbard’s case, as well as many others, it’s a calcuated move aimed at making the activist look silly while painting the attacker as someone who is truly interested in the root of the issue. Too bad for Mr. Hubbard, it’s quite obvious that he chose the first relevant-looking news article he could find — revealing his argument to be the slap in the face it really is. (Pun intended.)

By utilizing his condescending “more real than thou” rhetoric, Hubbard was able to avoid a real discussion on the potential impact of Pimp on the audience that played it. The real life correlations — language of the game, the treatment of women, the gendered and racialized depictions of the characters, etc. — were swept under the rug as if they don’t, and can never, exist. But, I’m going to go one step farther here. I’m going to suggest that his assumption that he can define what a “real” problem is and is not is tied into his privilege.

In this case, privilege acts as a bubble, insulating a person from the fallout of culture. The problem isn’t “real” to him because he doesn’t have to see that the game feeds the very culture it draws from — nor does he have to see the real harm that the culture does. Racism, sexism, sex trafficking, violence against women… all of these are real issues, and all of them are utilized as themes in the game. And dismissing the way those real issues interact with society and culture because they’re contained in a game that is fictional is in no way, shape, or form a useful thing to do.

III. Jeez, Can’t You Take a Joke?

Continuing on with the Pimp the Backhanding example, I’d like to point to a disclaimer on the site:

Arthaus Games does not condone or support the illegal sex trade industry. Pimp is a fictional game about the humorous stereotypes created by television and film and is in no way representational of the true horrors of the sex trade.

I’d also like to revisit the part of Mr. Hubbard’s response where he argues that White Wolf is “mocking the criminals that engage in illegal prostitution.” The humour defense is quite common and is based on the assumption that if something is supposed to be “funny” it is therefore exempt from any criticism that may be levied on it. Don’t get me wrong, I think that humour and especially sarcasm can be an effective tool to combat oppression, but saying something offensive as if it’s funny isn’t a “get out of jail” free card for being offensive.

I think the game is “mocking” something all right, but I’m not so sure it’s the “criminals who engage in illegal prostitution.” Take, for instance, how they explain the dynamics between the “Macking Phase” and the “Backhanding Phase” on the website:

Each pimp in your posse can be used only once each round, either to mack a ho or to backhand one of the harlots an opponent tries to take home.

So, by normalizing gendered slurs against women (“ho” and “harlot”, both of which are currently used not only to deride prostitutes, but all women), including violence against said women as a desireable game element (“backhanding… the harlots and opponent tries to take home.”), and glorifying pimps while mocking prostitutes is “mocking the criminals who engage in illegal prostitution.” Right.Racism is funny!

Not to mention that I fail to see how a game that uncritically exploits the harmful, sexist, racist, and classist “humorous stereotypes created by television and film” in a way that makes it seem cool is “mocking” the “criminals.” But it’s really obvious how it mocks the “true horrors of the sex trade” that it’s clearly not representing.

IV. Conclusion

Even after reading all this if you think that popular culture is “frivolous” then that’s your business. I’m not asking every person to give up the causes they’re attached to and study pop-culture. Sure, I’d like people to be aware of and care about it, but at this point I’d settle for those not interested in it to just go elsewhere. I’m really sick of the “omg get over it it’s a…” comments that are obviously meant to shame me. Well, I’m not ashamed, because I know that this shit is important. And if I can help one person see the way popular culture influences their life, then it’s worth it.

Introduction [Understanding Popular Culture, Part 1]

tekanji

I originally wrote on this issue for the now defunct Shrub.com articles, but instead of simply reposting it like I did with the other articles I wrote, I thought it deserved a full out rewrite. Predictably, in my revising and expanding efforts, it grew longer than any sane post should be. So, please enjoy the first part of my open series on popular culture.

Popular culture is a pet topic of mine, especially when it comes to how it influences the way that we interact with the world. We are all immersed in it — from advertising that becomes more invasive as the years go by to whatever hobbies we choose to get into. Yet, despite how widespread the phenomenon is, most people are convinced that these things have absolutely no impact on our lives. To the extent that the study of popular culture — whether in a formalized academic setting, or just people examining their own hobbies — is seen as “frivolous”. It is my belief that labels like those stem from a fundamental misunderstanding of popular culture and how it works. In this series, I would like to explore all the facets of pop-culture in an effort to promote better understanding of what it is and why it’s valuable.

I. What is Popular Culture?

Before I can begin a discussion on the effects of pop-culture, I need to make sure that we’re all on the same page regarding what it actually is.

Popular culture, or pop culture, is the vernacular (people’s) culture that prevails in any given society. The content of popular culture is determined by the daily interactions, needs and desires, and cultural ‘moments’ that make up the everyday lives of the mainstream. It can include any number of practices, including those pertaining to cooking, clothing, mass media and the many facets of entertainment such as sports and literature.

[From Wikipedia’s entry on Popular Culture]

So, popular culture is really the culture of our current society. It’s what we do every day from watching TV to playing video games to what we cook and beyond. It’s what we like to do, what others like to do, what others would like us to do. It’s All Your Base and O RLY. Buffy and American Idol. Comics and manga; anime and cartoons. It was even Kabuki, once upon a time. And Wikipedia, the source of all the links? That’s pop-culture, too.

II. Why bother studying this stuff?

The bottom line is that pop-culture is in everywhere. It’s everything new and current. We can no more escape it than Oedipus could escape killing his father and marrying his mother. Because of this, not studying this topic makes it into the elephant in the room.

And, indeed, while we’ve been so busy ignoring the elephant in the room, a dangerous dichotomy has formed regarding the impact of pop-culture on people. They can be summed up as such:

  1. Questionable pop-culture media makes people do bad things.
  2. There is no evidence that proves that pop-culture makes people do things, so obviously it has no affect on us at all!

Over and over again, you see these two factions duking it out, sometimes to the point of muddying the meaning of words in their quest to make it “us” versus “them”. But, you know what? The problem is much more complex than a 100% argument either way can ever hope to encompass. And if people weren’t so busy telling us not to study popular culture for whichever of the two reasons they prefer, then maybe they could see that it does not have direct control over people, but neither does it have absolutely no affect on us at all.

Another problem with the two opposing factions, besides them being overly simplistic, is that they are arguing from the basis of causation rather than correlation. If pop-culture media did, indeed, have the power to make people do things, then a causational argument (either for or against) would be valid. But, it’s not a causational relationship in question here, but a correlational one. And correlation does not equal causation.

What does this mean? In short, popular culture will influence the way we think (correlation) but it cannot compel us to believe something we don’t want to believe or act a certain way (causation). And, indeed, studies that are starting to be done on this subject are finding that very thing.

Still, television and Pop-Culture have made significant strides in portraying the people of the LGBTQ Community in a positive and non-homophobic fashion.

For the viewers, this could have positive affects as well. Simply seeing more and more Gay men and Lesbian women in television, certainly in shows that happen to be the audiences’ favorites, could possibly reduce and perhaps even squash any anti-LGBTQ prejudices they could harbor. According to this newsbyte from G.L.A.A.D., a study done by the University of Minnesota found this to be true…

It could be argued that this is quite similar to when more African-Americans were featured in television and movies in the early seventies and how it affected White people’s view of that particular community. Or even women featured in more positive and progressive roles. The more one views a group of people in entertainment and Popular Culture with positive and progressive depictions, the more likely they are to develop an open-minded opinion of this group. It’s probably one of the best ways a society could rid itself of bigotry against those who have historically been at a disadvantage, especially when it came to culture and the entertainment world. With it becoming more and more common place to see people of the LGBTQ Community in television and movies, the possibility of ending cultural and hopefully legal discrimination against them seem to be greater. It’s about damn time.

So, why is it useful to study popular culture? In a nutshell, it is too large a part of our lives to go unstudied, by not studying it we open ourselves up to misunderstandings about its potential impact on us, and by studying it we can learn strategies to fight bigotry and hatred.

III. Where to go from here?

This introduction is intended to serve as a springboard to more deeply explore the importance of popular culture, the arguments made against studying it, and the attitudes that hinder it from being taken seriously not only in academic critique, but also in our daily lives.

While I have a few posts lined up, I don’t really know where this series will go. Since popular culture is a pet topic of mine, I often come across issues that I feel need to be explored further. I’m also writing this so I can have an easy reference to point people in when they play “pop-culture bingo” (meaning that they use the stereotypical arguments against examining pop-culture). Much more easy than typing it out over and over again, wouldn’t you agree? But, I guess, ultimately I’m writing this because I think popular culture matters. And I think it’s important for people to recognize that, even if they themselves aren’t interested in examining the impact it has on their lives.

Hate Speech on Campus: Abortion Compared to Genocide

lake-desire

The Center for Biological Reform was invited to my school on Tuesday and Wednesday by Western for Life, my university’s anti-choice club. They put up a display comparing abortion to genocide in the center-most public area of campus. There were signs that read, “Warning, Genocide Ahead,” but the area is difficult to avoid and many students told me they proceeded expecting something about a real genocide.

I took a few pictures of the displays. They are graphic and probably not work safe, so you may want to skip this post if you’re not up for being in a bad mood.

I took these pictures on the second day. On the first day, there were small children behind the barricade, in the sun, and infants being carried by women.

Continue reading

Gaming While Female [Gaming Communities, Part 3]

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I know this installment was supposed to be about the greater “boy’s club” of gaming, but getting a new gaming group here has brought some more personal issues to the forefront. In particular, being “one of the boys” (but not really). You see, I can never be “one of the boys” because, well, I’m not a boy. Or a male. Or so much male identified, although I tend to fit more into “masculine” gender roles than “feminine” ones. I am female, and that’s enough to set me apart because my main gaming group consists of two men.

I know of two women here who like games, but I haven’t had a chance to have them over to play yet (one of them was supposed to come Saturday, but apparently her previous engagement went long, so she didn’t make it). It also doesn’t help that the guys I game with live in my building, whereas the women I want to game with don’t. For reasons that I want to explore, it seems harder for me to form primary gaming communities with women. I could brush it off here as random obstacles — physical distance, language barriers (the men are American, the women are Taiwanese), etc — but, I think it goes deeper than that.

Do the sexes game differently? Is my inability to game “like a woman” what keeps me out of primarily female gaming environments? Is that fundamental difference why I often feel like an interloper in my gaming communities? I don’t know, really, but I want to find out.

I. Do Men and Women Game Differently?

One of the difference I see in male gamers and female ones is that female ones tend to have a bigger life outside of games – we have multiple friend groups that we often go out with, interests outside of geeky culture that we will pursue with the same vigor as our games, and we don’t tend to let our gaming get in the way of our health or other obligations.

Which is not to say that my generalization is a hard and fast rule, but rather that it’s a usual pattern that I’ve observed in most of the gaming communities I’ve been a part of. I, myself, often straddle the line between what I’ve defined here as “male” gaming patterns and “female” ones, so that alone should tell you that it isn’t a truism any more than the idea that more men than women play videogames is a truism.

Take this past week for an example — I’ve thrown studying to the wind and have spent almost every night playing video games with my friends. One of the days I didn’t, I held a dinner party that one of them attended (the other was working). I’ve stayed up much later than I should — which is to say that I’ve gone to bed anywhere between 12am and 5am, depending on whether it was a school night or not. But I haven’t missed school, and I haven’t slacked in my classes.

The boys, however, would either leave my place to go play more video games, or I’d leave theirs because I was falling asleep. Once or twice one of them would leave before I would. But usually not. They will miss school, or stay up all night, or skip meals (okay, I can’t get on their case too much about this one — I’ve been known to do that in the past, too), or what have you. And none of this shocks me, because that is pretty much what would happen in my old gaming group.

The girls I haven’t had a chance to play with don’t, to my knowledge, stay out late. They often have other things going on that will run late. They keep wanting to game, but they never seem to have any time. I can relate because in between gaming I’ve been going out with friends (dinner, lunch, just hanging out) quite a lot. The only reason I have time is because, instead of going to bed after my nights out, I’ll do what my gaming guys do — bid my friends goodnight and then go play video games.

II. Hardcore? Casual? None of the above?

“But wait,” you say, “Doesn’t that just define thel line between hardcore and casual gamers? Doesn’t that just reinforce the idea that women are casual gamers and men are hardcore?” To some extent, yeah, I am kind of postulating that here. But I think that there’s more to being a hardcore gamer than making oneself sick playing games all the time.

I, for instance, heavily identify as a hardcore gamer — when I get a new game I like, I obsess. I will play it whenever I have free time, often to the point of ignoring my friends. But that’s always a temporary state for me; after a while, I’ll go back to keeping a more balanced schedule. Because, well, I like having friends, and friends don’t stick around if you ignore them for too long.

Another issue that I think factors in to whether one is a hardcore or casual gamer would be how much one spends thinking/talking about games when not actually playing them. I personally have this habit of almost always talking about games — to the point where I often lose the person I’m talking with. Just yesterday, I was talking to a classmate about my DS Lite (bought on Friday — be jealous, ye suckers who don’t live in Japan!), and she said to me, “When you talk about games it’s like you’re speaking another language.” And, I mean, it is. Not to mention that it’s slowly becoming the class joke that anytime a question is asked about what I want to do, what I like, my hobby, etc. that I’ll say gaming. And those of you who read my blog regularly will know how often I talk about the intersections between gaming/geekery and other issues (like feminism).

In this sense, are women less likely to be hardcore? I don’t rightly know. I’d argue that the prevalence of gaming blogs and sites by women would say no. But, given the hostile environment (which I will talk about one day, I swear! the post is already half written), it’s hard to truly gauge how many women are “hardcore”.

III. Male Gamers Looking at Women

What about the perception of women, though? Just a few weeks ago, I was in the school bar chatting with another student. As is often the case with me, the discussion turned to games. And this guy called me a casual gamer. You’ll hear this story again whenever I get around to posting about the greater gaming community, because that’s how much it bothered me. Not that I think that it’s necessarily a bad thing to be a casual gamer, but he assumed that I was because I was a woman. I mean, unless it’s become standard fare to give that label to someone who has been shooting the shit with you for like 5 minutes about various different kinds of games. And, come on, this guy didn’t even really play anything besides like PSX/PS2 and PC games. I don’t think he even did emulators. But, you know, I was the casual gamer.

As for my gaming communities, past and present, what did they think? Well, I know my old gaming group knew I identified as hardcore. My cousin and I would rent or buy games to play together — we especially liked playing RPGs together, but we didn’t confine ourselves to that. But I didn’t like games like Smash Bros. or fighting games (way too much baggage attached to those styles of games), which ruled me out of a lot of encounters. And that made it very stressful towards the end of my stint with them.

I can’t honestly say what my new group thinks of me. They’re happy to have me — I think, but I’m going to talk more about that in my next post (this one got too long). They are more than happy to include me in whatever game they’re playing. For instance, one of them just got an XBox 360 (which is not selling at all over here in Japan), and got a soccer game. That we all suck at. But since the XBox is 4 player, I was invited to join, and join I did. They never shirk my turn for Sengoku Musou, and part of the reason I got to be so friendly with these guys in the first place was that when they heard that I had a Gamecube they were smitten (with the console, you perv!).

I don’t think that they’d call me a casual gamer if someone asked, but would they say that I was as hardcore as them? I don’t know. Does it matter? Maybe, maybe not. I’m hoping it’s more towards the not, but given the way my last group imploded, I don’t feel so secure.

IV. Conclusion

This is the first time I’ve really sat down and examined some of the whys behind my expeirences “gaming while female.” I’ve always dealt with feeling excluded, or being the interloper, or what have you, but I’ve never looked at possible reasons why that might be. And, of course, after all this I’m left with no answers, but a lot more to think about and eventually talk about. But, that’s for my next post.

"Girl" Gamers Not Welcome [Gaming Communities, Part 2]

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I have been a gamer almost all of my life. I was 4, maybe 5, when a cousin who was staying with us introduced me to Dragon Warrior. I could barely get my character around the world, but I was in love. I played with my mom, I played with my best friend, I got calls from the elder brother of a family friend when he and his friends were stuck in games like Zelda. When I was old enough, I started playing them by myself. I bonded with many of my friends over my Nintendo, or Genesis, and later my SNES.

It wasn’t until high school, though, that I realized I wasn’t quite welcome in the greater gaming community. I would be at a party held by my male gamer friends and they would all gather around the N64 and play Goldeneye or Mario Party and I wouldn’t be welcome. It’s not like they said, “No, Andrea, you can’t play this,” but if I tried, they’d do little things like forget my turn, or gang up on me first, etc. I don’t think they meant to do it, but they still did. So I started just playing games alone. If I got to the parties early enough, I could hog the big TV and play Space Channel Five or whatever, but if not then I was stuck in another room playing whatever PSX game was available. Unless people were in there trying to play Marvel vs. Capcom or Street Fighter or something. Then I just sat around and watched. Which suited everyone just fine. Everyone, except me. Fighting and shooting games are probably the most shitass boring things to watch.

It wasn’t all bad. In university there was a year in which a group of us would head down to an internet cafe every friday and play Counter Strike with each other. I would play games like Resident Evil and Tales of Symphonia with my cousin. Although he was just a casual gamer, John (he was my boyfriend for two years) and I would play things like Half-life and Alice together. During those times, I didn’t feel excluded, or ignored, or not welcome.

Not long after John and I broke up, I brought an acquaintence of mine into the friend group. We had known each other for a while, but for various reasons we would only really see each other in school and at parties. It seemed like a good idea at the time: he liked to game, we liked to game, he was nice, we were nice… he seemed like he would fit in. And, really, he did. He fit in so well that the whole community I had created changed. He liked to play things like Smash Brothers, and he brought in a few (male, of course) friends of his who felt the same. Suddenly it was High School all over again. At first it was just something little, something stupid. He invited my cousin to his birthday party, but not me. I confronted him, he said it was an honest mistake, and things seemed better for a while.

Then the guy and I entered into a “friends with benefits” style relationship, which meant that I saw more of him, and I realized that it hadn’t actually gotten better. They had just gotten better at excluding me without my knowledge. Now, if I wanted to spend Friday nights with my cousin, I’d have to put up with them, too. And they would get vicious when we played games. So vicious it would make me vicious, and I’d end up feeling shitty afterward. It was like playing Carcazzone and getting into Sheep Wars with another friend of mine. It made the game not fun anymore. All of this, plus other personal shit, led to a spectacular blowup between me and this guy. That fed into a blowup with my cousin.

Suddenly I didn’t have a gamer community anymore. I still don’t. I’ve actually met a few geeks since coming to Japan, so I’m hopeful, but all of them are men. And I’m afraid of getting back into the pattern. Afraid that, even if I’m the one creating the group, that ultimately I won’t be welcome because I’m just not like them. I am, after all, a woman.

Introduction [Gaming Communities, Part 1]

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This is a subject that is very personal for me. So personal, in fact, that my original introduction was too bitter, too angry, and not productive enough to be considered suitable for this blog. I posted it in feminist_gamers instead. The incident that lead to all this, in which some feminist gamers blogged about their disappointment with Oblivion and male gamers got nasty about it, made me think, yet again, about my own experiences in the gaming community. About the arguments about “female gaming” sites. About how “gaming site” is synonymous with “male gaming site”, even if it has female subscribers. And it made me sad. No, worse, it made me sick. This is my life. This is what I put up with day after day.

All I want is to have communities available to me that aren’t exclusively for women. I want to be able to be seen as an equal — not a “gamer-lite”, not a potential date, not a Second Class Geek — in gamer groups that include men in them. I want to be able to talk about the issues I see in a game without male gamers dismissing the concerns as “ridiculous” or making “jokes” about panty fights (what the hell is a panty fight, anyway?) and making dinner and whatever. I want to be taken seriously, as a serious gamer, and a serious human being. And I want to finally have a gaming community that accepts me, not despite of who I am, but because of it.

I have written in the past about gaming communities from the perspective of examining what, exactly, defines a community. In revisiting this subject, I would like to focus on gender issues in the communities. The first post will be on my personal experiences being a woman trying to find gaming communities throughout my life. The second will be on how general gaming communities are “boy’s clubs,” with a look a recent kerfluffle more-or-less started by a popular gaming site, Kotaku. I’m going to leave the series open ended for now, since I may want to write more on it in the future.

Delay, delay, arrive. [My Voodoo, Part 2]

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Rouge: My Voodoo LaptopAfter over two months, I’m finally sitting here typing on my brand new laptop. I’ve been spending the past few days migrating my stuff over from my old laptop and desktop and I’m not quite done yet. Am I happy it’s here? Hell yeah. Do I like it so far? Sure. Would I recommend this company to someone else? Probably not.

The main reason why I don’t think I would recommend this company again is because of the sheer aggravation I went through to get this thing. Another is that you can get a comparable machines for a lower price, although VoodooPC offers some peripherals that Sager does not (including the paint job and tatoo, which I rather like). If this machine turns out to be the best thing since baked bread, however, I may give people a qualified endorsement. But, onto my retelling of the Delay Saga and the first impressions of Rouge (my computer, named after the Sonic Adventure 2 character, of course) when I first got her.

I. The Dreaded Delays

Rewind, if you will, to January 2, 2006 (22 days after I placed my order). Jess Williamson, a member of VoodooPC’s Web Team, sends out a (presumably form) e-mail to update me on my computer.

I just wanted to let you know your computer has been gathered and in about 10-15 days it should be complete. Let me know if you need anything.

Jess

46 days after that (68 days after I placed my order), I get another (presumably form) e-mail from VoodooPC. This time it’s from Jodie Salvador:

Hi Andrea,

I was just emailing you to let you know that your computer has finished testing and will be sent out to you in the next few days. Thank you again for your order.

Jodie

I was not pleased to learn that they hadn’t even sent it yet, so I fired off this e-mail in return:

Jodie,

First of all, I would like to thank you and VoodooPC for keeping me up to date on the progress of my laptop. I must say, though, that I am highly disappointed in the turnaround time.

When I purchased the machine back in December (68 days ago), my confirmation page told me that my laptop would be ready and shipped in approximately 30 days. The previous e-mail, from Jess Williamson, I received 46 days ago said that my laptop would be complete in 10-15 days.

I had expected that the 30 days would be give or take a week or two, but this is bordering on ridiculous.

I didn’t receive a reply after that, but an hour later I got an e-mail informing me that my order had been shipped. I checked my tracking number and discovered that the shipping had been expedited, and therefore would arrive at my dad’s house in Miami in two business days. I’m not sure if the shipping I paid for was expedited shipping, or if they expedited it because I complained. Neither my invoice nor my website specifies what “North America” shipping entails.

The arrival date, mind you, was right in time for me to be up in West Palm Beach in preparation for my returning to Washington with my mom. Long story short, much aggravation led to my dad bringing it up to Boca (where my grandpa lives) and us having dinner, me getting the package, then flying up with two laptops. Quite an experience, let me tell you.

II. First Impressions

My very first impression of Rouge was a mixed one. I was impressed that I was given all relevant discs, including the Windows XP install (which, if I remember correctly, Toshiba did not give me). I was interested to see that I had to go through the final part of the installation myself. I was not, however, happy that the laptop lacked a hardware volume control. The one that it uses is dependent on Windows being fully booted, so the only way I could stop from waking up my nieces sleeping next door was to put my earphones into the plug. I’ve had a few other embarassing experiences with the volume being up too high since then.

My only other complaint is that the software that I have discs for requires that I enter the CD key the first time I use them, which isn’t bad except that I haven’t done it for everything yet and I don’t have the discs on me when I travel. The fans can be noisy sometimes, but they keep the laptop nice and cool. The bottom has little grates for the air to come out, which seems like a stroke of genius to me given the bad design of other laptops I’ve seen.

Other than that, I have been pretty happy so far. I’ve been having a lot of fun exploring the different features, and playing with my webcam (I think I need to install better software for it). There’s a bar on the bottom with (among other things) controls for a CD player. I doubt I’ll ever use it for that function, but it works with all of my AV programs so I can go to the previous/next tracks, stop, and play my files without having to use my mouse. That is totally cool in my book.

II. Conclusion

I’m allowing myself to hope that the worst of this experience is over. It was a pain in the butt waiting so long for my laptop, especially given what I paid for it, but the machine itself seems to be pretty quality. I haven’t played any games on it yet, and I don’t know how it will hold up against the rough handling I tend to put my electronics through, but I suppose that’s a blog post for another day.

The saga of Rogue is far from over.

What's in a character, anyway? [Gender in Indigo Prophecy, Part 2]

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This post contains potentially game ruining spoilers. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! You have been warned.

The first thing you notice in Indigo Prophecy is that there are three playable characters: Lucas Kane, unwilling murderer and first person you play as; Carla Valenti, the only woman you control; and Tyler Miles, Carla’s (junior) partner. A ratio of 2 to 1 favouring males isn’t exactly equal, but with the way games run these days I should probably be thankful that there’s a woman at all, much less one who wears weather appropriate clothing and has realistic sized breasts.

The Heroes

Lucas Kane

Lucas, Lucas, Lucas… You begin and end with his character, and the conclusion to the story is told from his perspective. With the most screen time and the most prominent position in the story, he is undeniably the main protagonist.

If one was expecting him to be the paragon of masculinity, that idea is shattered within the first few minutes of the opening. While he doesn’t break down and cry after killing a man, he certainly does his share of freaking out here and there throughout the next couple chapters. He is not afraid to admit emotion to himself; indeed, a couple of ways you can depress him is by having him look at pictures of his parents or of Tiffany, his ex. Nor does he seem to have qualms in to sharing it, as he is always frank with his brother Markus. He even owns and plays a guitar, and you know how girly the sensitive artist types are (I kid, I kid, but the stereotype of the sensitive artist type is definitely invoked).

Throughout the game, though, you find that his virility is beyond reproach. Once he gets over the worst of his angsty woe-as-me depression, he gets not one but two women. The first is Tiffany, his ex. If you give the right answers when she comes to get her boxes, Lucas ends up sleeping with her and she stays the night. Later on, regardless of what happened at the apartment, she hides him from the cops and tells him that she still loves him. Right after Tiffany meets her untimely demise, Lucas starts macking on Carla. This leads to sex, Carla’s admission of love, and eventually them getting married.

The ability to get laid is but one way his manliness is assured. Once his wrists have healed, you can have him beat the crap out of his punching bag. And, when I say, “beat the crap out of it,” what I mean is, “kick it clear across the room.” It’s not long before Lucas graduates from punching bags to Matrix-esque martial arts and acrobatics. By the time the game is over, he has done a full-blown Dragon Ball Z transformation, fully equipped with the ability to charge his power to throw a death-dealing ball of energy at the Oracle. No one’s gonna challenge the masculinity of a guy that powerful.

Do Lucas’ traits merely make him a well-rounded character, or does the need to establish his physical and sexual virility say something deeper about gender relations in Western society? I recently criticized conflation of female sexuality with female power in my last instalment of Girls & Game Ads, and I can’t help but feel that Lucas’ situation is the male side of things. In contrast to the women (who are seen first and foremost as sexual and secondly as powerful), his physical prowess is focused on with his sexual exploits are minor asides in his storyline. Given the nature of gender roles, I don’t find this difference very surprising. Men, after all, have a history of being valued for their physical and mental abilities, while women are lauded for their beauty.

None of this is to say that I find Lucas’ character as unduly problematic, or so stereotypical that I found him hard to relate to. I enjoyed his blend of weakness and strength. For all the flaws, I enjoyed his relationships with Markus, Tiffany, and Carla. I did think that, overall, he was a well-rounded, three-dimensional character. It’s just that, taking his character in the context of Western culture, a closer examination of his traits and relationships reveals some interesting assumptions about masculinity.

Lt. Carla Valenti

I’m sure this will come as a shock – shock! – to all of you, but Carla was my favourite character. When I first rented the game with my friend, we would always choose her character to follow first. She was strong, independent, and a natural leader. Things I like to imagine myself being, I suppose. As the game progressed, though, I saw her being caught in more stereotypical traps and I despaired. In the end, I still loved her. She may have brought some T&A to the party, but she was still Carla.

Always the one with a good head on her shoulders, Carla sidesteps the “annoying emotional sidekick” stereotype and falls squarely in the “obsessive work-oriented cop” one. To me, it was refreshing to not have to think about who she was attracted to. I breathed a sigh of relief when it was made clear that any relationship with her partner was thankfully out because of his long-term girlfriend. For the first half of the game, nary a mention was made of Carla having any romantic attachments or inclinations, save for a mysterious e-mail from Tommy.

Oh, Tommy, how can a gay man be the harbinger of doom for Carla’s love life? It was through the non-threatening, homosexual friend that the player learns that Carla is yearning for a man. To be fair, Tommy (like most of the characters), is also attached – he talks about his new boyfriend. It was during that conversation that I knew a part of independent, “I don’t need a man to be complete,” Carla was gone forever. Having Lucas call her to talk sealed the deal; I didn’t even have to see that “moment of affection” in her apartment with him to know that she was going to get with him.

Aside from the final scenes, which are told almost exclusively from Lucas’ point-of-view, the balancing factor is that Carla retains her distinct personality. Throughout the game, she gets a lot of airtime to show off her strengths. I felt the creators took pains to give her an equal part in discovering of clues, in putting them together, and solving the case. There seemed to be a conscious balance of physical strength/dexterity with her intellectual pursuits, as well. I’ll get into a few more specifics with Part 4 of the series, but I noticed that she was the one who was associated with the shooting mini-game. Near the end, she also finds pieces to jury-rig a radio with – a technical task that is traditionally allocated to a man.

Like Lucas, I found Carla to be an overall well-rounded character. Despite relying on a few stereotypes for her characterization, she was more often than not portrayed as an independent woman who was important for what she did, rather than who she did.

Sgt. Tyler Miles

Thinking back on my runs through the game, it strikes me that some of the most vivid memories of Tyler as a character I have are in relation to either Carla or Sam, his girlfriend. Indigo Prophecy does its share of defining women through their relationships with men, which I’ll get to later, but it does its share of defining men through their relationships with women, as well. While I’d argue that Tyler is characterized primarily through his race, taking a close second for defining who he is would be his interactions with the women in his life. I suppose that, if anything, is telling.

In many ways, Tyler is a masculine character: he played basketball in college, he likes video games, he wants to protect his woman, and he, not Carla, drives when they go together to a crime scene. But he is also the empathetic one: on the crime scene, he’s the one who chats with the forensic guys; he’s the one who gets the composite from Kate; and in the end he is supposed to follow his heart and go with his girlfriend to Miami (even if you choose not to do that, his plot is over at that moment).

I liked Tyler. He was a funny guy. He was a people-person who wasn’t afraid to do a little grunt work. Ultimately, though, at least in terms of gender, he wasn’t very memorable as a stand-alone. Most of what I have to say about him will come in Part 3 of the series, because I believe that he is best defined through his relationship with Carla and Sam.

Supporting Cast

Though not as important as the playable characters, the supporting cast still a large part of what a player gets out of the game. They are more likely to fit into stereotypes, as the writers don’t have as much screen time to develop them in, and which paradigms are chosen can reveal much about gender interactions.

Markus Kane
Markus is Lucas’ brother, and his confidant throughout the game. His association to Lucas puts his life in jeopardy, which recalls a lot of the “love interest as target” stereotypes, and in the end he makes an appearance in the underground camp to show the player that he made it through okay. Though I would argue that he is less important to the plot than, say, Tiffany, he is the only non-playable character given a blurb in the manual.

Tiffany
Tiffany is Lucas’ ex girlfriend. I don’t recall if the reason for their break-up is ever really explained, but, like Markus, Lucas’ enemies target her. Unlike him, though, she dies while Lucas tries to rescue her. She lives and dies attached to Lucas, a typical feature for the supporting females of childbearing age.

Sam
Sam is Tyler’s girlfriend. They are exclusive, live together, and plan on having a family. Like Tiffany, her role is defined solely by her relationship with Tyler. She constantly worries about his work, and in the end is the deciding factor in the wrap up for his story.

Agatha
Agatha is too old to be defined as someone’s lover, so she is safely put into another category: wise woman/spiritual advisor. She, too, dies because of her association with Lucas. Later on, her visage is used by the Purple Clan in an attempt to get Lucas to do what they want him to.

Jade (chosen child)
The opposite of Agatha, Jade is too young to be defined as someone’s lover. Instead of that, however, she becomes the paragon of female virtue: she is a lifeless conduit for male power. She is the keeper of the secrets of the universe and “he” (language used in the game, also all those after her are male-bodied) who possesses her secret is given unlimited power. She has no personality, and is constantly referred to as a “pure soul.” Once her task is over, she dies. It is highly disturbing that a girl-child with no agency of her own is used to consolidate male power and then is discarded once her role is finished.

Tommy
Tommy is Carla’s gay friend/hallmate. He has a bit of a political purpose – his relationship with his boyfriend is used to illustrate continued homophobia in Western culture – but ultimately I see him as a non-threatening way to reveal Carla’s single status and set her up for her relationship with Lucas.

Drive-by Characters

Most stories have people who appear only in cameos to emphasize a point, or drive the story on. These characters are generally only important because they represent the breakdown of the world at large. Indigo Prophecy is no exception, but I’ve broken the characters into two groups: people in power, and incidental characters. The gender makeup of these two groups sets up the backdrop and can often last a lasting, if not conscious, impression on the player.

People in power:
Though the world of the game is set up to reflect ours, I was somewhat shocked to find that there was only one person in power that I could find that was female. It was one of the voices of the Orange Clan (one of five or six total). The Oracle is male, the Purple Clan AI is male-bodied, the police chief is male, Sgt. Robert Mitchell (worked on a ritual killing case prior to Carla and Tyler) is male, and Bogart (bum and head of an underground organization that helps Lucas and Carla at the end) is male. Where are all the women? Male-dominated or not, this is the 21st century and women do hold positions of authority. By not showing any women in these important positions, it sends the message that it is normal to see men in power, but not women.

Incidental chars:
Even in the memorable but incidental characters, the split is obvious: Kate the waitress versus four guys. Martin Mc Carthy, the cop from the diner, shows up more than once. As do Garret & Frank, the forensic guys, and Jeffery, the basketball guy. The person working at the morgue was also male, come to think of it. As were most known perpetrators and victims of the ritual killings: Lucas/male victim, both were male in the Kirsten case, and it was only the Laundromat with a female victim that bucked the trend.

Conclusion

In the end, I guess I have to say that I find the characterization in the game problematic but not irredeemable. I would hazard a guess to say that the script writers thought that they were being all equal by having a main female character who was strong, intelligent, and non-hypersexualized, as well as a supporting cast that had a decent amount of women on it. And I recognize that, and appreciate it. It’s a better representation than most games I’ve played. But it’s no Beyond Good and Evil, where it had all that and didn’t define women mostly by their relationships, and had a visible representation of women in power. For Indigo Prophecy, I have to say: it’s a start, but you have a long way to go, baby.