Generation XX

Because you can’t spell Meghann without Meh.

Various women in my social media circles recently raised an indie title on Steam that was obviously designed to tap into an anti-feminist sentiment, in a nasty kind of a way. (Though the developers had a disclaimer that it wasn’t meant to offend, of course.) An even greater number of my male friends were discussing the same game with their eyes rolling identically. I saw a couple of games journalists planning opinion pieces about it and I paused to consider why I wasn’t doing the same.

It’s not like I never write about these issues. Many years ago, I wrote furious limericks when people assumed Hex was handed her Good Game gig because she was a gal. And I interviewed a bunch of women over six pages in PCPP one time. But, no, generally this page is about my constant oscillation between hardcore and ditzy gamer, making Geralt unequip his shirt and my personal projects, as you know. You could argue that simply being present is a feminist act, possibly, but I am generally unwilling to engage more explicitly.

I wouldn’t not write about a deliberately anti-feminist game because I was worried about giving it oxygen. Simply, the game sounds genuinely uninteresting and, for that reason, it would be difficult and pointlessly time-consuming to write about. There are people who write amazing feminist videogame critique. Certainly sexism and lack of representation affects me sometimes, but I haven’t put enough thought into these topics to be able to write something properly meaningful or useful, on a regular basis. It’s not because I don’t want to, just because

I saw journalists planning opinion pieces and I paused to consider why I wasn’t

it’s a complex issue that’s easier to eschew than eloquently understand.

Like when my kids told me they’d thrown projectiles at a photo of a certain, newly-elected, US President at the school fete, and were conflicted about whether they’d enjoyed the experience. I was like, “Maybe next time you could just ignore it and find something to play that feels properly good and/or fun.” Concurrently, although “no indie too small or too strange” has become “my brand” in recent years, I put every game featuring said president on the “not seeing” pile at PAX AU last year. Taking my own Mum-advice always seems smart, even when contradictory.

Is it fair to walk past developers because I don’t like their content? Have you seen other games journalists at work, and how many hopeful indies they completely avoid for literally any reason? My new “nope” rule did mean that I skirted a whole university stand, due to its prominent US election content, as well as a nice, younger developer who I’d met the previous year, due to his adding of the presidential candidates to his dueling game. I just don’t find tangential sexism, racism and homophobia funny, even if it’s dressed up as edgy or just silly.

I do imagine there’s some great potential film, game or artwork related to America’s current political climate, but it ain’t “Whack a Candidate and Watch ‘Em Cry.” Do people feel good about spending their precious creative energy making these games? Maybe they do. Or, maybe that’s a specious point, because the creators of great games, both from technical perspectives and for reaching vast, appreciative audiences, aren’t always known for their positivity, anyway. “Feeling good,” is a multifaceted construct, after all, despite me telling my kids to rely on their gut.

Further, I often find even feminist initiatives falling short of what “feels right.” One woman I’ve known since school is a financial analyst. She won an award for surveying the women in her building and getting the temperature raised a degree. But she’s also great at her job. Each year, Australia has its Women in Games award which recognises many of games’ inspirational female people, but fails to recognise many more, thus harmfully and pointlessly dividing the group? Not having been on the list, raising this is easily interpreted as sour grapes on my part, illustrating the problem.

Above, I mentioned that there are great feminist games writers and that that’s not really me. Hence, this poorly written column sounds like I’m complaining. No, I am complaining, but mostly because I want opt out of engaging with games that “satirise” feminists and politics, and initiatives that don’t “feel right,” but also that the disappointing feeling of engagement being necessary, remains. If I don’t play or discuss an anti-feminist game, I probably just don’t care about it. But, thinking briefly beyond, “Meh,” in this case, has been useful, if only to me.