The Guardian has a blog post up today reflecting on the radical/hippy/underground 60s newspaper The International Times, as an archive devoted to IT has just launched (although said archive appears to be down at the moment). Anyway, the Guardian blog quotes some notes I took at a talk by the founders of IT, which you can read in full here on The Wired Jester. There’s also a selection of scanned covers and pages to look through.

“The typescript of George Orwell’s latest novel reached London in mid December, as promised. Warburg recognised its qualities at once (”amongst the most terrifying books I have ever read”) and so did his colleagues. An in-house memo noted “if we can’t sell 15 to 20 thousand copies we ought to be shot”.

- From the Guardian’s look back at 1984, the “Masterpiece that killed George Orwell”.

1984 is no longer the book that’s most influential on me, or my favourite, but it is still a part of who I am – like a literary tattoo. I read it at just the right age and the right place – a wordy 17 year old at college in Luton, obsessed with books and how they describe the world – and I’ve got some beautiful copies of it at home (including a beautiful illustrated one) as mementos. Penguin recently posted up a competition on Twitter to win a signed print of the Shephard Fairey image adorning the the current 1984; you had to come up with an image Penguin’s publicist can use on his Twitter page that reflects the book. I pulled two contenders from my Flickr account:

It’s a shot of the Colossus computer at Bletchley Park. I liked the flatness of the colours, the lack of shadows, and the suggestion of words being monitored. And also, of course, the reference to “the commons”. In the end though, I went for this one:

A favourite of mine, snapped on the iPhone at Tate’s Rothko show. I think it’s funnier and stranger than a lot of 1984-derived images tend to be; of course, it doesn’t shy away from the central darkness of the novel, of how bleak life is when words cannot be trusted.

Update: I won!

This post from a while back on a flash hack for the Nikon D40 has been one of my most popular pieces here, but sadly the original images it linked to are long since gone. Today I found this article over at Instructables which is just as good – in fact, because it uses the foil of a cigarette packet to act as the flash difuser, instead of just cardboard, it’s probably even better. Read the full how to here.

Not a place many people visit, but I’d agree with Rough Guide when they call Taipei Asia’s most under-rated city. It’s where the IT press go every year for Computex; I’ve been there three years (2006, 2007, and this year). Here’s some photos not of motherboards or netbooks, but of the place where they’re born.

Close-up detail of a painted door, temple, Taipei.

Businessmen praying before work. Incense burns, and people rub the smoke into their clothes for good luck. This was taken at Longshan temple, one of Taipei’s busiest.

Entrance to a temple, crammed in between shops and newer buildings.

Two things Taipei is never short of: rain and scooters.

Amazingly, I saw this guy directing traffic every morning, so he seemed perfectly able to survive the regular onrush of scooters.

Despite the fact it rains a lot – at least when Computex is on, in June – it’s always warm and humid.

A scooter zipping towards Taipei 101, until very recently the world’s tallest building.

Two views of the city from 101.

I was in the Far East all last week, first to Taiwan to report on the Computex trade show. We filed tons of stories on bit-tech (full list) and I also contributed a quick, more mainstream write-up for the BBC website. On the way back, I went via Hong Kong to visit an old friend, and rather serendipitously, arrived on the 4th of June, the 20th anniversary of the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests. I took plenty of photos, which I’ll post up once I’m over the jetlag.

A post on the Flickr blog got me thinking about my 12 ‘Flickr Superstars’. As I made my notes, several themes emerged:

i. The Far East, specifically Japan. Having visited the Far East specifically, and having a Japanese fiancee, it’s no surprise that I’m fascinated by Japan, and I think there’s also a sense of me trying to understand it – culture, people, places, feelings – through images.
ii. Fast lenses. Quite a few of my favourite Flickr images rely on fast lenses (f1.8 and below).
iii. Simple, strong, compositions. If you look in the group devoted to these lists of 12, a lot of the photographers suggested are ‘high concept’. Lots of PhotoShop, and self-consciously arty compositions. Not for me – as with film, music (where I’m a big fan of 80s and early 90s alternative US groups such as The Replacements, Pixies, Nirvana), I tend towards images which are more strongly rooted in reality.

My favourite 12 are after the jump.

1. The first of several photographers on this list based in Japan, I wouldn’t say I ‘like’ .:*ghost*:.’s photos – rather, I’m drawn to them. There’s a sense of darkness in many of his photos that goes beyond spooky or creepy, but the subject matter is never, ever explicit. If anything, it’s the slightness, even vagueness of the subjects – little chunks of light, cats, sunglasses, empty parks – that gives the images their unsettling feeling. It’s the sense you might have when you’re in a strange place, in a strange mood, and the day is changing to night, making shadows and shapes out of normal objects. .:*ghost*:.’s ‘burari’ set is well worth exploring.

2. dannybird is the main photographer at the publisher where I work, and when it comes to still life product photography, he is simply one of the best photographers I’ve ever seen. A genius when it comes to using flash lighting to make even the dullest objects appear interesting, as you can see from this shot.

3. davemason is based near me in South-East London, and his subtle compositions slice up mundane scenes and render them surreal and intriguing.

4. A journalist in real life, there’s a strong narrative to many of greenwood 100’s photos, linked to a great visual instinct. Well worth adding as a contact, as the updates vary between the topical and the personal, proof positive that far from coolly observing the world, the best photographers are in the thick of the action.

5. Yes, yes, I’m a sucker for the Far East and from the moment I saw this terrific shot I’ve been a fan of Gori-JP’s photos. His shots are frequently bright, colourful and best of all are shot from a vantage point that’s completely immersed in the scene.

6. Tim Rudder is another photographer based in Japan, Tim’s portraits are fantastic – there’s a directness to them which I often find lacking photos you see online. He has a way of shooting that renders the glass of the monitor between you and the subject invisible. He’s also never content with the obvious shots either, which in a world when it seems everything has already been photographed, is a real talent.

7. Not only a fantastic photographer, Alieh is also based in fascinating place that is often represented in the media in a very one-sided manner: Iran, specifically, the historic city of Isfahan.

(This is my fave shot of hers, but she’s disabled off-site images.)

8. Navid J. There’s a real sense of poetry to his shots, and his sense of composition is very strong – frequently managing a fine balance of simplicity, abstraction and intrigue.

(This is my fave shot of his, but he’s disabled off-site images.)

9. Horses and Tigers provides subtle travel photography from places such as China and Iran; it gives the viewer a sense that there’s another world out there, and that strange as it seems, it’s not as radically separate from your one as you might think.

10. I’m a big fan of fast lenses, and re.mo always inspires me with the way he uses his Nikkor f1.4 turning simple objects into scenes filled with wonderful blobs of bokeh.

(This is my fave shot of his, but he’s disabled off-site images.)

11. Jonas Peterson is a pro and you can see why. Unlike many photographers on Flickr he’s not drawn to maximum contrast and whacked up colours – instead, what you find are a sensitivity to muted tones and the power of soft light.

12. There’s nothing showy about Kimicon’s photos – if anything, at first glance, they’re homey snapshots, almost to the point of being dowdy, but spend some time really looking at them and they’re have an undeniable charm which really communicates a strong feeling and humanity. You’re never in any doubt of the warmth of the heart and hands that held the camera and framed each shot.

(This is my fave shot of hers, but he’s disabled off-site images.)

Despite/because/completely independently of me writing a long and reasonably thought-out blog post about how Six Days in Fallujah might have the chance to address some of the long-running issues with war games making killing fun, its publisher has dropped it.

Too controversial, it seems:

‘”We had intended to convey the reality of the battles to players so that they could feel what it was like to be there,” said a Konami spokesperson in a comment to Asahi.com. “[But] after seeing the reaction to the videogame in the United States and hearing opinions sent through phone calls and email, we decided several days ago not to sell it.”‘

Of course, the developer might still carry on coding the game, but with a big publisher such as Konami dropping it so publicly, I wouldn’t put a huge bet on it actually getting a release.

In the 1980s and 1990s, the term ‘virtual reality’ was understood to mean the creation of reality inside the computer – and thus we would need to experience it using complex imaging and interaction systems (3D googles, cursors mapped to the movement of a glove etc.) The implication behind this was the reality itself would be untouched. The real world would simply be a home for the VR equipment: Star Trek imagines it holodeck as a big empty room, for instance. Moreover, since VR ran inside the computer, it only worked when you turned it on – and in movies such as The Lawnmower Man, the nightmare scenario was not being able to get out.

Few people imaginged that when VR came to pass, it would actually involve computers altering the way we acted in reality. The video below shows 100 dancers in central London recreating the dance from Beyonce’s music video for her song ‘Single Ladies’ (which Peter Sagal called ‘a wonderful, brilliantly performed dance number set to an irresistably catchy pop tune’). As a piece of PR in reality, it holds very little value – few people would have the chance to actually see it, as it the dancers and organisers take pains for it to appear to happen spontaneously on the street. It’s over in three minutes, and few of the people who happened to be walking by would actually be able to make sense of it because it only works if you’ve seen the original music video. Indeed, the behaviour of the dancers only really works if it’s watched as a video, passed around virally on the web. It is, essentially, VR: actions in reality that are targeted at, and only make sense when experienced virtually.

[I wrote this for the blog I contribute to for work, over on bit-tech. I don't generally cross-post stuff I write for work here, but the idea for it grew out of writing the Peleliu post, so I think there's a good case to be made that it belongs here, too.]

Konami’s recently announced Six Days in Fallujah game rolls into town at the head of a of convoy of outrage over the fact it’s based on a very real and very contemporary battle of an ongoing war.  In a well-weighted editorial on Eurogamer, Rob Fahey nails why this outrage is nonsensical, and why it’s particularly unpalatable when it comes from the tabloid press:

“It’s not just the fact that the [Daily] Mail and others are essentially calling for the worst form of censorship, the blocking off of an entire event and saying ‘this is off limits, and may not be portrayed’ – something which would stab to the very heart of the freedom of expression our media should be championing… the thing that rankles most about this situation is the fact that this is a tabloid newspaper telling another medium that the way in which it’s handling current events is insensitive. I won’t need to remind any reader who walks past a news stand on the way to work, or flicks on Sky News or CNN in the evening, just how ‘sensitive’ the news media is in its coverage of war.”

The whole piece is worth a read as it eloquently defends the right of games to portray reality. Fahey’s defence of games isn’t totally blind though – indeed, he challenges those making games such as Six Days in Fallujah to engage more fully with their subject material:

“If a game like Six Days in Fallujah is to have any value, it must come from adding something to that discussion [of the war]. This isn’t about taking a pro-war or an anti-war stance – although both are valid starting points, there are countless others. It’s about making people think, informing them through their entertainment experiences, and commenting, as creators, on the media we create and the events we portray.”

Games based on real combat aren’t uncommon – the Call of Duty series has been at it for longer than the duration of World War 2 – and Call of Duty 4 is the most notable depiction of combat in Iraq gaming has seen so far (although, bless its little corporate socks, Activision has decided to tell players it was actually set it in unnamed MiddleEastistan). What makes Six Days in Fallujah interesting is that unlike other ‘real war’ games, it’s not an FPS, or an RTS. Instead, it’s a third person ‘action’ game.

The problem previous ‘real war’ games have had is that none has managed to rise to Rob Fahey’s challenge. This is because of the problem of fun, namely that war games – and FPS war games in particular – make killing people fun. This is because killing is the central mechanic of the game. If there was no killing in CoD 4, for instance, there wouldn’t really be any game left. You’d be able to run, reload, crouch and open doors, but really, those actions are solely there to support you killing people.

It’s not unique to CoD 4. It’s there in every combat orientated FPS game because in every FPS you need to kill hundreds, if not thousands of people as you progress through the game. In fact, you’re not killing people: you’re removing obstacles, because single player games that aren’t primarily puzzle games or simulators are always about progress through the level.

To impede progress and to make it challenging for the player, you need obstacles. These can be puzzles, but since you’re not making a puzzle game, it’s better if these are enemies, and it’s better if these enemies can tax the player by fighting back. When you, as the player, eliminate the enemies, you’re granted power-ups, new weapons and keys to enable you to access more of the game (and in turn cope with more powerful enemies). It’s such a simple and recursive formula that it needs to be jazzed up – it needs to be made fun, because you need to do it over and over and over again. It’s work.

As such, while these enemies might take on a human form – two legs, two arms, toting an AK and a couple of lines of dialogue – there’s nothing actually human about them, which is why you as a player (and also you as a character) are able to kill them by the bus load. You never pause before you kill these people. You never wonder what their wife is going to say. You never wake up in the middle of the night bothered by the fact you killed them. They’re just ciphers. If your soldier from CoD 4 had actually killed the number of people you kill in progressing through the game, that frequently, that proficiently, they would surely go completely insane. That, or make themselves leader of the whole world.

You can argue that military commanders might look at the map and think about combat in this way – enemy soldiers are just there preventing progress, troops who have experienced combat are tougher, and commanders do make calls that result in hundreds of deaths – and so there’s an argument that this ‘killing is fun’ problem doesn’t affect RTS games. But you don’t have to read many memoirs or watch much documentary footage to know that frontline soldiers have quite a different perspective. To even come close to this experience now gives you an idea of how far removed from fun it is.

This is what makes it interesting that Six Days isn’t an FPS, and that in an interview, Peter Tamte, the president of Atomic Games, the developer of Six Days, gives the following answer to the question, is the game going to be fun?

“The words I would use to describe the game — first of all, it’s compelling. And another word I use — insight. There are things that you can do in video games that you cannot do in other forms of media.”

As cynical as you might at first think (and I certainly did) Six Days was, Tamte is on to something here. Now, he might just be talking a good fight before preparing to roll over and make a crass cash-in. But he might be preparing to grasp one of the biggest issues in gaming.

So far, ‘real war’ games have always taken the easy route. Call of Duty: World at War is a great example of this. Some of its levels are set on Peleliu, a tiny island in the Pacific, which in 1944, was the site of a ferocious three month battle between US and Japanese forces. 11,000 Japanese were defending the island; only 202 were captured alive, while close to 1,800 Americans lost their lives.

In October last year, I had the chance to visit Peleliu, and it was a very moving experience. A lot of the WW2 stuff is still out in the jungle. I visited with a Japanese tour group, and we saw caves that still had scorch marks on the wall from where they were cleared with flamethrowers, and we saw places where groups of soldiers had committed ritual suicide rather than be captured alive.

After I wrote about it on, someone recommended I read a book called ‘With The Old Breed’, by Eugene Sledge, a marine’s memoir of the Pacific war that included fighting on Peleliu. I’ve only just ordered it from Amazon, but here’s the Wikipedia write-up – and as warning, it’s not pleasant:

“Sledge writes honestly of the brutality displayed by United States Marines and Japanese soldiers during the battles, and of the hatred that both sides harboured for each other. In Sledge’s words, ‘this was a brutish, primitive hatred, as characteristic of the horror of war in the Pacific as the palm trees and the islands.’ Sledge describes one instance in which he and a comrade came across the mutilated bodies of three Marines… He also describes the behaviour of some Marines towards dead Japanese, including the removal of gold teeth from Japanese corpses (and, in one case, a severely wounded but still living Japanese soldier), as well as other disturbing trophy-taking. Distinguishing the book from most other war memoirs is Sledge’s description of the sheer physical struggle of living in a combat zone and the debilitating effects of constant fear, fatigue, and filth.”

None of what Sledge describes is fun, but it very clearly has value as history and as media – the book is widely praised. Likewise, I wouldn’t say Peleliu was exactly fun place to visit, but it is interesting, challenging and enlightening.

With The Old Breed has been optioned for use as source material for a new HBO series on the war (called The Pacific) from the makers of Band of Brothers. I can’t imagine the makers of Call of Duty read it, and if they did, it didn’t really do much other than get reduced to the same old, same old of WASD and Mouse 1.

What this points out is that other forms of media – books, TV, films – have found that being fun isn’t necessarily a pre-requisite to being successful, both commercial and artistically.

Again, here Six Days might break with the past. Tamte (and Konami) has also been keen to point out how many Marines, and apparently, Iraqi civilians and even insurgents have helped them make the game. It’s clear however, that their impulse to get close to reality is tempered by a degree of political correctness:

“Q: Will players encounter situations like friendly fire or accidentally shooting civilians?

Tamte: Yes.

[Creative Director] Benito: We wanted to recreate the pressures and conditions the Marines faced and that includes adhering to the proper rules of engagement. So for example, as you may have seen in the demo, there’s an unarmed individual at the start and the Marines didn’t fire on him because he was unarmed and that was in accord to the rules of engagement at the time.

Q: Will there be portrayals of women being raped or dead children or are you just sticking to the combat?

Tamte: Well, what we’re trying to do is recreate the stories of the Marines that we’ve spoken with and that are involved in the creation. And we’re telling the stories of those particular Marines. None of the items that you’ve mentioned have come up in any of those stories.”

The portrayal of the conduct of the armed forces in a current war is obviously a sensitive issue, but it will be a shame if Six Days insists on showing the Marines and the rules of engagement as being perfect. It also makes you wonder why, if the time is right for Six Days, no-one has yet optioned Generation Kill (HBO’s excellent series on the invasion of Iraq, based on the equally brilliant book) for the basis of a game.

I’m going to be very keen to play Six Days; the chances are it won’t live up to its billing, but the game described by its makers could be, even if only in a small way, rather radical.

Another excellent set of photos on The Big Picture today, focussing this time on animals in the zoo. As always with The Big Picture, there’s a real (if subtle) sense of a narrative running through the post, thanks to the ordering of the shots. I couldn’t help but be grabbed by this one of a six-week-old North Chinese Leopard from Hagenbeck Zoo in Hamburg, Germany.

It makes a very strong impact thanks to the strength of the subject. At first it’s funny and cute, thanks to the disparity between the dinky little cub, doing his best to snarl, and the photographers. The wicker basket makes him appear all the sweeter, as if he’s a pet on a picnic or something.

Look at it longer though and there’s a toughness to it – there’s a predator’s cruelty in the leopard’s eyes. Cub or not, there’s no mistaking the fact he’s (supposed to be) a hunter and a killer, which makes the way he’s trapped quite poignant. Increasing this sense are the partially obscured faces of the photographers leering out of the blown, smudgy white highlight on the right. The super-saturated light gives a feeling, I think, of the outside forces shaping the cub’s life.

Other highlights from the post include shot 23, which features some very clever use of shadows and picture 26 which is a flat out super composition – the human hand makes it a much more interesting shot than 27, despite the fact that 27 is, on the surface, more action packed.