So I started playing Control after watching the first of @JuliaLepetit's recent VODs. I'm not super far into it so please no spoilers, but I find that it's a game with a lot to say and I think by the time I'm done I'll have a lot to say about it.
It's fun to watch Julia play it because as a visual artist she keeps stopping to point out things that I would never notice, in particular how the game designers achieve the difficult trick of staging the big areas so that when you enter them you get a striking visual.
Which, you're probably thinking that's not a hard trick, games do it all the time, but I'm not talking about a micro-cutscene with strategic camera focusing and panning. What's trickier is doing it in free-roaming mode with the camera following the player's shoulder.
And again and again, they manage to create visual introductions to new rooms that look like framed paintings, that could be freeze framed and assembled into an alien tarot deck.
All of which would be completely lost on me without someone pointing it out.
I'm not a visual thinker. While I'm struck by these when I notice them, I can't conjure a picture of any up into my head and I don't know that I could even say I remember any of them, as I didn't stop to put what I was seeing into words.
I think in terms of words and stories.
And the story this game is telling has a lot to say about labor. I feel like the actual strongest moral of the game, if it has one, is that it's those who put in the support work, who stock the supply closets and clean the spills and flush the pipes, who keep the world turning.
I mean, this is potentially a bit of a spoiler but it's speculative for me and it's based on very early game content, but if there was a markerboard somewhere at Remedy where somebody wrote the words "God is a Janitor" and underlined it several times, I would not be surprised?
You've got a seemingly all-powerful (but what, if anything, can/do they actually do?) yet unfathomably remote Board which presumes to select (but can really only seem to test) a Director for the Bureau. And the Directors seem to have a habit of going evil and/or self-destructing.
And then there's a janitor. Not apparently appointed by the board. Not apparently selected by anyone. Nobody asked him to show up. Nobody asked him to mop the floors. Nobody asked him to fight a never-ending battle against apparently sapient, malevolent [redacted].
And while the Board thinks that you/Jesse are there to be the next Director (again, that's an early game spoiler), the janitor who lets you in with an insouciant and easily missed flex of control over a building the Bureau of Control can only ever coexist with...
...confidently asserts that Jesse/you are there to be the assistant janitor, because he needs an assistant. And Jesse repeatedly tells herself/you/Polaris that she's way more comfortable with that job title than director.
And while it's easily explained as a matter of there being an ongoing crisis that demands your full attention and also prevents any bureaucracy from happening... your Directorship in the game does consist of schlepping all over the place, cleaning up messes and doing maintenance.
(With guns and superpowers, I should specify, just so nobody gets the wrong idea about what kind of game this is. While it has a lot to say about labor and uses a custodian vs. director metaphor, this is a shooty-shooty-boom game.)
Honestly, I landed on "custodian vs. director" by happenstance, I think that's really it, what the game says about relationships to power. Jesse is a custodian for the power she receives. She's a steward. A servant. A caretaker.
...I said I would have a lot to say later but apparently later is now.
I also think it's deliberate that Emily Pope (who is also my wife whom I love and am married to), a non-executive researcher (not sure where she fell in the org chart before the disaster exactly except not being the top tier) sets up her disaster command post in "The Board Room".
I don't know what The Board Room was even used for before, as the the actual Board exists unbounded by conference rooms and tables and chairs. Possibly the Bureau used it for cosplay when they needed to LARP normality for someone temporarily in their custody for evaluation.
But Emily Pope, in her capacity as one of the people who sits down and gets to work when work needs doing, sits herself down in a chair in the board room and gets to work.
I feel like a lot of people telling this kind of story would have the protagonist/viewpoint character giving the janitor a token protest before going along with him because it's easier and making a show of "not being too proud" to be sent to fix some pipes.
But this game instead tells us that Jesse has worked all kinds of jobs in her life on the run/prowl, and that she likes the kinds of jobs where you get to work with your hands alone/ignored.
And of course this game came out a couple years ago, but it feels very timely in an age when prominent politicians are making disparaging comparisons of what they term "low-skill workers" vs. the people with the corner offices.
(Of course, in the Oldest House, all offices are corner offices. All offices. All corners.
...if you have ever wanted to play Half-Life 1 slammed together with SCP and Welcome to Nightvale, this might be the game for you?)
(And also it might be a stealth midquel/gaiden-game to the Alan Wake series, which I haven't played, so I can't say much about how it compares.)
To be clear, I wouldn't go so far as to say any of this is "the meaning" in the game. Just things I think it is saying. They might be unrelated to or even at odds with an intended overall message, if there is one.
Earlier today I explained my thoughts on a meal that was served with gravy over it by explaining that my reaction to gravy on anything can be summed up as "This could have been an email."
I don't know exactly what I mean by that, only that it's how I feel.
Like, if I already like something, then the gravy doesn't add anything I need and might obscure or alter what I like about it.
And if I don't like it, then the gravy's not going to change that.
So it's unnecessary to my experience, at best.
Nota bene: You can like gravy all you like. This isn't my hot take on gravy or my attempt to cancel gravy; I'm describing an aspect of my tastes. Your taste can differ from mine without it being a debate or an argument or a tournament known as Mortal Kombat.
So, Tabletop Simulator's statement here, in the most charitable interpretation of how it happened, was written by someone from @BerserkGames who was only familiar with one ban out of a sequence of bans, which they had only been told a self-serving summary of how it had happened.
The description of a user "spamming different key words in an attempt to get flagged" describes an event near the end of the affected user's account of events, linked in this tweet.
Laughably and sadly, that was the user saying she was cis and straight.
And the moderator she sought clarity from about why saying she was cis and straight didn't result in a chat ban when saying she was gay (consistently) did, the mod retroactively banned her for it, and the reasons he gave included "discussing sexuality".
I'm seeing a lot of people asking for a generous reading of this and saying things like "She didn't mean it's encouraging that the unwell are dying but that the well aren't."
First, the problem with eugenics isn't that it's just so negative.
So rephrasing a eugenicist idea as a positive ("More healthy people!" instead of "Fewer sick people!") doesn't make it not eugenics, or fix the problems that make eugenics deplorable.
And second, if she'd meant something *completely* else... if it should come out that what she meant was something more like, "It is imperative that we do more to protect the vulnerable because so many of them are dying."... the fact that she said what she said is still a problem?
Yeah, to the second point here: I believe that to a transphobic, cis-centric society, *not* gendering people at every available turn reads as a security threat, because they're insecure if people around them aren't being gender-marked.
In the past when I talked online about taking gender markers off airline tickets I had people -- who clearly had never given the matter a second's thought -- immediately declare that this would make flight less safe by making it harder to know who is flying.
And it's like... our tickets are already tied to a unique identifying number on our government-issued photo IDs. There's not someone out there with my legal name, my number, and a different gender. So where's the safety risk?
Here's a thing: if you write an essay about your warm and complicated feelings about your husband, and it has a headline, lede, and deck about how awful he is and how much you hate him, AND the essay is behind a paywall?
Most people who see those things won't read the essay.
That "Oh, nobody is reading critically these days, readers are so stupid and gullible." take is missing the point. You can talk about how a savvy consumer should know better than to fall for false advertising, if you want, I guess, but this isn't a question of literacy.
Very possibly not.
And arguably the sardonic, self-deprecating (by way of family-deprecating) approach to the essay's intended point is valid, if a terrible idea given the current state of the art/the industry.
This was a cold-calling sales job, but it wasn't phrased to us or the customers as a sales job. We were the "scheduling" department. The sales reps were in the field. We were supposed to call someone and get whoever answered the phone to say "yes" to a visit from the sales rep.
The company was nominally a home-improvement company. Sold siding and windows and a few other things (gutters, maybe?) so that if we encountered somebody who didn't believe us when we told them they needed X, we would pivot to Y and then Z.