Thread by @LeopoldMcGinnis

Let's talk about toxic fandom for a minute, particularly the reaction against the new Monkey Island game's art style, and how negative fandom reaction is actually just a natural (yet irrational) sociological fear response to loss.

https://twitter.com/ChristopherChew/status/1521596612765786112

First, let me say that I am super jazzed to get another Monkey Island game from @grumpygamer himself and I will buy and enjoy whatever it is. I know it's going to be great. #videogames

Second, I don't get the crazy reaction to the 'new' art style. I can't see, objectively, what's wrong with it. Did people only want pixel art because that's the way the first two games (over two decades ago!) were made?

The later games were fully animated. People reacted badly to that then too. My point being the response is largely irrational and, because people love the series so, they are hyper-vigilant to any 'change' that might be 'bad.'

Yet, this negativity, overall, is coming from a place of love. Extreme love. Let me explain.

Fandom becomes toxic when the love for something becomes calcified, cold and intractable. The simple solution, if some small new piece of the beloved game/film you love so offends, is to just not participate. To pretend it didn't exist. Problem solved.

Of course, fans don't want this either because they WANT more. They want it to be new and better and they fear it won't. Even if it sucks and they hear it sucks, few will be able to resist checking it out.

The thing is, we can't have new things without change. If there's not change, it's just the old thing. To use the post @grumpygamer sequels as an example, I agree that they felt like they lacked a little something that was Monkey Island...

...but they also brought us Murray the Talking Skull, new islands and characters, more great quips and, most importantly, another chance to explore and expand our love for the Monkey Island universe.

If they'd sucked, our reaction might have been different. But they didn't, and we had to change our view and vision of what Monkey Island was to accommodate and incorporate. We had to adjust to the new art style, a different voice, etc.

The alternative was to have no sequel at all. Even if Ron Gilbert had done the sequels, would they have been as good? The more sequels you have, the more baggage, the harder it is to find something fresh.

To use a less positive example: as much as the new #StarWars films suck, they were also facing an incredible battle against the steadfast and unbendable love for the originals. 2000 George Lucas wasn't the same as 1980 George Lucas. We are never guaranteed a successful return.

So the only option is try the sequel or deny it. But frankly, I think we all want more of what we love…and to get it we have to open our hearts & take that risk. To make room for a new Monkey Island we have to let our old, hard love crack, to let the new stuff seep in.

Of course, that means opening up to stuff we may not like as much. We hope for the best, knowing we may not get it; we fear letting go of our perfect love for Monkey Island to accept this new, foreign Monkey Island.

But at some point, you are either willing to do that, and will buy and try the new game, or you're not, in which case you can just pretend none of it exists and keep your already perfect world.

In short, all of this is natural, explainable and, even predictable human behaviour. Fan backlash is a natural sociological reaction to change. Fans are ready, waiting to be disappointed, and will react negatively.

Fans are girding their metaphorical loins for disappointment and will shrink away at the first indication something is different out of fear that change means bad things. But I hope, now that we've gone through that, we can relax and open up to whatever the new game will be.

I, for one, am going to buy & enjoy the shit out of the new Monkey Island. And if it doesn't live up, I'll be grateful there was a chance for something new, and hope for a better outing next time. I already have my perfect Monkey Islands in a special, untouchable place.