Etch-a-sketch: a brief, disheartening experience with fanboys, sexism, and xenophobia

"People suck, and that's my contention. I can prove it on a scratch paper and pen. Give me a fucking Etch-a-sketch, I'll do it in three minutes. The proof, the fact, the factorum. I'll show my work, case closed."

–Bill Hicks

I would say that the majority of the time I’m pleased to be considered a gamer. It’s not something I wear as a badge of honor or anything, but I can safely say that this is a medium filled with a diverse collection of personalities and that, most of the time, they’re folks with whom I can engage in intellectual discussions. I love discussing violence in games and how games have emulated cinema and vice versa and other subjects as well. Part of the reason that I am a gamer is because I can sit down, play something like Hotline Miami and then write a piece focusing on a particular element about the game which, more often than not, leads to a discussion about the game.

That’s about 95% of the time.

And then a game like Assassin’s Creed III is released.

At the time of this writing, IGN’s review of Assassin’s Creed III has been up for three hours. The game received an admirable 8.5 (out of 10) from UK Games editor Keza Mcdonald. Scrolling through the comments, one can see the usual, useless bickering about the score. However, there’s also something else incredibly unnerving to be seen as well:

And this:

And this delightful little ditty, too:

Ah, the lovely anonymity of the internet, allowing sexist, xenophobic morons to spread their hate without fear of retribution. Seriously,  what the hell is this?

“Why did they have a British person review this game?” Why does it matter? The reviewer is critiquing game design, not the game’s patriotic zeal.

And it’s an honest review, too, something that everyone in this field should strive for, especially given the recent Eurogamer debacle. A number of articles concerning the legitimacy of video game journalism have been posted on the internet—a number of them making fantastic points about the proximity of PR—since that mess but honestly, when I read comments like this, I have to wonder if there’s a point to it all. Okay, maybe that’s making it a little dramatic. Let me rephrase: sometimes I wonder whether or not the benefits outweigh the costs when it comes to writing journalistic gaming pieces.

Just scroll through the IGN review comments section. The majority of commenters clearly came to the review with their mind made up already about the game and some, like those above, stooped to xenophobia and sexism due to their fanaticism over a freakin' video game. That's maddness.

Steven Sukkau recently wrote this fantastic inspiration piece where he said: “ I don't write for the fame. Or money to buy hot cars. And neither does Spiderman. We write to express important ideas. Sometimes the important idea reaches hundreds or thousands of ears or eyeballs –like stopping a runaway train. Other times, it's a single citizen waylaid by bandits. One reader. That's why you write … even for just one.”

And deep down in my soul I know he’s right. That even through the vilest crap, through the disasters happening around you, through rotten luck, and doubt—both of yourself and your readers—you should keep on writing. But godamn, it’s hard sometimes, especially when you know that there are people like the aforementioned commenters out and about, contributing to negative stereotypes about gamers, smearing mud across the face of the medium that you’re so passionate about. 

That being said, major props to Keza and all the other reviewers and feature writers who, after having spent hours upon hours playing a game and then more hours writing about it, have to look forward to that sort of feedback.