Two Weeks

Two weeks ago, I reviewed the game Coliseum for this very website. At the time, I thought that I had written something worthwhile and interesting; well short of grandiose, to be sure, but certainly up to the standards to which we are accustomed here at GWJ. I described the game's premise and mechanics, encapsulated its charm, and I showed what different approaches it took in contrast to most games of the same genre. At 6:17 AM on April 11, 2006, I smiled at what I viewed as a job well done, clicked "submit," and promptly went to bed.

And now, two weeks later, I am moderately disgusted with myself. Aside from some brief discussion in the opening paragraph about how some genres of games are not as good as others, there was not one bit of controversy in the entire review; no theories or claims on which I staked my reputation; no original contributions to the ongoing dialectic of gamerkind, such as it is. I succeeded only in my ambition to render an honest description of a product available for purchase; that is, I advocated that you all should spend your money in a certain manner. That is the sum of my accomplishment, and it's just not good enough.

My dissatisfaction has nothing to do with Coliseum, for my opinion of it has not changed. I have simply decided that ordinary reviews, of the kind that I produced two weeks ago, ought not to qualify as praiseworthy. I now think that (and, this being the crux of the present article, it bears italicization) it is not an extravagant requirement to ask of writers, when they seek to review a game, that they also elucidate and support some original claim or concept, such that the work will hold relevance even to people who have no desire at all to spend money on the object reviewed.

In short, I advocate a move away from game reviews, as we usually think of them, and toward full-fledged game criticism, just as it exists with respect to other forms of expression. We've been loitering in this darkened foyer for too long. The party has moved into the solarium, where I hear tell of excellent punch.

Criticism, in the longstanding, traditional view, is intended to expose the inner workings of its subject for the benefit of the critic's reader, in much the same manner that a physician performs autopsies for the benefit of observing students. By this reckoning, critics, in view of their education and expertise, are thought to have special insight into the arcane processes of the artist, and so to be particularly well suited to describing the techniques that the artist employs. However, toward the end of the twentieth century, most critics of criticism agreed that there is nothing substantially different about critics to justify distinguishing them from the artist's audience at large (whereas there is clearly a difference between an experienced surgeon and the fresh pupils thereof). Critics are, by and large, nothing more than audience members with a soapbox, who desire to persuade others to think as they do with regard to which theoretical model best describes the work observed.

But this should not lead us to scorn criticism as hopelessly subjective; and it certainly should not diminish the delight that we take in participating in the dialectic process. There is still plenty of room for evidence and sound argumentation to guide our beliefs, which process of determination can only benefit from the explosion of new and diverse voices that comes with the abandonment of the old, rigid, critical apparatus. We may yet retain our enthusiasm for rational discourse, even as we melt away the structuralist notion of the privileged perspective.

The realm of game criticism in particular holds special promise, in part because we have only recently begun to explore it, really ever since the maturation of online gaming communities to the point that assiduous, concerted discourse on games has been possible. (Consider whether sites like this or this or this, or Gamers With Jobs itself, could have existed ten years ago, or even five.) There is also the tantalizing prospect of the emergence of a new and meaningful critical vocabulary, as we find that terms such as "realism" and "modernism" simply do not retain their same force when applied to interactive media, and notions of "protagonist" and even "plot" itself may become positively antiquated (and I think they already have). The more distinguished traditions of literary, film, and art criticism can make no account of role-playing, or of dynamic campaigns, or branching plots, or the massively multiplayer, or user mods, or lag, or procedural generation, or even of player emotes.

The unpleasant side effect of the establishment of a true game criticism is that most traditional forms of games-related writing will seem painfully trite by comparison. This is not to say that reviews, previews, and the like will ever cease to hold value. It is only to suggest that the value of a piece of writing is necessarily limited by its own degree of ambition, and that the construction of what basically amounts to a buyer's guide isn't exactly the authorial equivalent of Magellan's expedition. I do not feel that I am overstepping the bounds of propriety by suggesting that we who are able should set our sights higher than that. And I, for one, really have no excuse, but for complacency and laziness, and I hope somebody will pipe up if ever again I should seem to resemble an only slightly more erudite editor than may be found at IGN. Or OXM, for that matter.

Like much of the readership of Gamers With Jobs, I have a vision for the games industry; but almost every time I walk into a game store, or pick up a gaming magazine, or visit a popular gaming website, the effects of other people, in all their horrible numbers, conspire to dash that vision into shards. The gaming industry today is nearly totally dominated by concerns of money, marketing, brands, and products, to the extent that even we here at GWJ sometimes fall into the common mode, unawares. This in itself would not be so bad, if a healthy critical tradition existed alongside it, as is the case with books, music, or film--but, as much as I enjoy some of the above-linked websites, I'm afraid we've still got a very long road to travel. If, as those who disagree with me are no doubt eager by now to point out, the present orientation of the industry (especially with respect to writers about gaming) does not essentially conflict with a thriving, critical community, then I have to wonder what the hell is taking so long.

Comments

Hear hear!.

On of the things I love about this place already, and what moved me to submit an article for consideration, was the fact that more real thoguht *already* happens here,e ven without your call for more. So many game sites are nothing more than "I give this an 83 for graphics but only a 56 for sound" and nothing more. I can think of many, many games that deserve so much more thorough treatment not just of mechanics but relevance.

I agree with you that critics of games need to be a little more ambitious in the articles that they write, but I think you're being a little hard on yourself. Some games simply don't inspire the praise or disgust of a particular reviewer to the point where such criticism is possible.

Knowing the depths of analysis through which you would put a game you wish to review through, I would probably have expected you not to review Coliseum at all as opposed to reviewing it in a critical, inspiring, and industry revelating kind of way. With the little experience I've had with you and your writing, the fact that you mention you probably would never have played the game otherwise, and the resulting article, spoke volumes to me on how the game failed to provoke anything other than a purely clinical response.

I think you looked mournfully at your game review because it is a game review. I know I am not alone when I say that game reviews have completely lost their interest and meaning for some of us that have been playing for most of our lives. We don't want to read a two or three or four page article on what this game is. We don't want the Cliff's Notes or, more often, 8th grade book report on our next adventure.

"Then you find a cave and there are platforms. And then you can push a button to make a statue appear and this adds interactivity and puzzle solving elements to the game. You can also buy upgrades from a shop. . ." Why should I care about that right now? What kind of emotional and adrenaline pumped response did it illicit in the depths of your soul? I get this picture in my head what all the game reviewers look like and it's Spock standing in front of his computer staring blankly while it asks "How do you feel?"

I'll tell you what I do when I see a game review. I look at who wrote it and think about what I know about that person. I think about what I've learned about their likes and dislikes and sense of humor and then I scan the article to find the single point of if they liked it or not. Black and White. Tell me how you felt about the whole package. In one sentence. Concise.

Even with you Lobo, it is really a delight to read the written English that you put down regularly but I still fly through your reviews touching on every fifth word to catch your opinion of the games worth. I think I know at this point what you are into and your yay or nay is going to be all the review I need.

As for the brave new world of criticism, I am going to remain cautiously optimistic.

I'm struggling here, but I'm developing the idea that perhaps game criticism is orthogonal to game review. Game reviews serve a purpose - to inform potential buyers of the nature of the game, it's mechanics, it's maker and their track record, and the flaws and successes of the game as the reviewer found it. They should be objective and entertaining.

But criticism...That's different. A review should let anyone figure out whether they want to play a game, or avoid it. For many reviews, all I see is "DimBulb's new Real-Time Strategy entry will be familiar to fans of the genre..." and I'm done. I know all I need to know. That's the purpose of a review.

Criticism seems to me to imply that we have a baseline of shared understandings that the critic can reference and the reader understand. It seeks to expose the difference between good mechanics and attention to genre conventions, and a subjective success or failure that is perhaps not tied at all to the *workmanship* of the game. That's where originality of story, unique perspectives and many other subjective elements come into play.

A review should tell you whether a game does it's job well. A criticism should tell you whether it goes beyond that and soars as an eagle above it's competitors, or whether it was unfortunately ingested suddenly into a jet engine, the whirling blades of badly implemented ideas mincing up an otherwise competently done game.

So I still like your review. It has a place, a good one. It informs. But my question is, into what framework of shared ideas and understandings would we fit game *criticism*? Perhaps we have enough history in games to build such a conceit. I just worry that there have been so many imitations, so little diversity overall, that as critics we will discover that there have been fewer than 10 games a year that stand up to artistic scrutiny; that indeed, most games are comic books in a world of bestsellers and literature. All the more reason to celebrate the great ones, but still...Are we ready to find out that the vast majority of our beloved stories are faint watercolor sketches of frescoes executed originally in other forms?

So on top of writing brilliant reviews, you want them to be original too? Man, you'll go insane before you see the dawn of another day! To philosopher Lobo: does originality even exist?

Speaking from personal experience: if you're really going to try to write The Masterpiece of Game Literature every time you sit yourself behind the keyboard, you're not going to get anywhere. Except for Coocoostan, land of the nutties (capital: Useless City).

Besides, they're only games you know. Am I banned now?

Interesting thoughts, guys. I'm rushed for time at the moment, but let me just say that I agree with everything said so far. I find that encouraging, at least.

Edit: Except for dejanzie. Banned!

I can just imagine the acrid sense of terror branching out from the gut of those who recently submitted articles to GWJ. "Now we have to come up with something original and controversial even in a game review?!"

Other than that, I'll just mirror everything Robear said and pretend I wrote it. Haha, I am witty!

Lobo wrote:

Edit: Except for dejanzie. Banned!

Tough but fair.

I agree primarily on this point: A review on GWJ should say something unique. There was some lengthy discussions in the hidden and smoky backrooms here of GWJ recently whether a full Oblivion review should be penned. While we encouraged the potential writer to be moved by inspiration the consensus was to move forward if the person could find an original angle. In the end, the potential writer (and many of us agreed) decided that all that was relevant had already been said, and a review would just be tossing our name into an overflowing hat. It was, I think, the right decision. After all, hadn't we already made it clear our positions?

However, finding something original comes in many different forms, and the truth is that a review must first and foremost perform the function for which it was written, which is to inform the gamer. I'd love if every review could find something inspired and deep to say about a broader theme in gaming, but many quality and useful reviews that I've read did not seek that angle. They still found a unique voice, offered an intelligent response, and informed the reader.

Still, I can only champion a call for improvement.

Lobo wrote:

It is not an extravagant requirement to ask of writers, when they seek to review a game, that they also elucidate and support some original claim or concept, such that the work will hold relevance even to people who have no desire at all to spend money on the object reviewed.

I couldn't disagree with you more about this point. Much like Robear said, I believe there is a very important and basic function that a game review (really, any review) serves: to provide enough information for a consumer so that he or she can make an informed decision whether or not to play the game. Game reviews are not the place to provide commentary on the human condition, or to explain how a given game fits into the greater tableau of human thought, or even to editorialize on the state of the game industry. A game review has one function: to provide information for the reader about a product. Save the introspective stuff for the game criticism, of which, I agree, there should be more (and written with more effort and finesse).

Lobo, I feel like I must stand up for a much maligned genre of writing here, as I worry that you underestimate just how important reviews, as a genre of writing, are. Criticism, as fascinating and fun as it is to both write and read, will not help anyone make those informed decisions; literary criticism about Ulysses doesn't tell you whether or not you should pick up the novel, and sometimes, people don't want to read about how Ice Age 2 makes a statement on the economics of ancient societies, or how it reflects the pack dynamic versus individualism. They just want to know if it's a good movie or not, and whether they should see it.

And that desire is not a bad thing. It does not betray simplicity or abhorence of thought on the reader's part. It merely illustrates a desire for convienence, because, yes, there are more important things in life to spend your time on than movies, books, and games, and so when we do get the chance to spend time on those things, we'd like it to be worth our while. There are only so many hours in the day, and we'd like to spend them wisely, if we can.

So, by writing a review, you are making someone else's life easier: you are distilling all of the time and effort that goes into an experience into its most important points. What an important job that is! You make other lives better, even if only incrementally. (I'd even argue that game reviews, like book reviews, are more important than movie reviews, because, in a game review, you're essentially saving the reader many, many hours of time and effort.) Your job is not to make a statement, it's to make someone else's life easier; and that point is so important and widely forgotten that I think more reviewers would be wise to take it to heart.

Still, the answer to poorly written game reviews is not to eschew the review genre in favor of criticism. The answer is to improve the quality of reviews. Criticism has its place, and it's far more fun to read (not to mention has more longevity). But reviews, if written properly, have their place too. Finally, I do agree with you on this:

Lobo wrote:

[Reviewing as a whole] in itself would not be so bad, if a healthy critical tradition existed alongside it, as is the case with books, music, or film.

I too feel inclined to simply agree with Robear's comments and move on, but I think one point bears extra emphasis: I think there is definitely still a place for the traditional game review, even at GWJ, even when penned by our more loquacious and insightful writers (yes, Lobo I am looking at you ). While I definitely enjoy the more thought provoking and critical pieces that are often posted on the front page, from time to time I just want to know whether someone whose tastes I am familiar with thinks a game is worth playing or not.

In fact, I think that of all places, I want to find plain old game reviews at GWJ. The fact that I do get a chance to learn so much about the writer's interests and inclinations from the various editorials and essays he or she produces makes their opinions all the more meaningful to me when they do decide to simply take a look at the value of a game. Given this fact, I think it is just fine if from time to time such a review is divorced from any greater conversation that may not have been possible regarding the game.

You can't squeeze blood out of a turnip, Lobo. I don't blame you for not finding the higher ground for a game that most will likely not play. Games have not yet reached the level of sophistication comparable to say, films, so I wouldn't expect a game reviewer to transcend to the same level as Pauline Kael.

EDIT: you bring up an interesting point though, that GWJ attempts to drag it's choosen hobby forward from the pubesceant dark ages. I would hope that GWJ would reach some kind of legendary status long after its gone, a group of minds that wrestled with grand ideas ahead of their times. Perhaps the Gaslight Square of gamers.

These issues come up on every occasion I sit down to write about a particular game. I very much agree with Katerin that there is an honorable place here at GWJ and elsewhere for game reviews whose purpose is primarily to describe and evaluate the subject for potential players/buyers. I'd argue that GWJ's efforts in this regard are especially useful in light of the poor-quality, oversimplified reviews that dominate the media. And considering the lackluster technical craftsmanship and design that plague so many releases, I think such writing performs an essential service. Yet I also agree that this isn't enough. Not for GWJ, for myself as a writer, or for the medium of gaming.

Though a mature critical dialogue about games has been hampered by gaming's pariah status in the larger culture, as an art form the medium is absolutely worthy of such attention. In fact, it demands it. Unfortunately, such rarefied dialogues aren't typically appreciated by the average gamer, or possibly even the average game developer. Like the deeper veins of critical thought in literature, cinema, and other forms of expression, thoughtful gaming critique engages a more limited audience. Why this is the case, the degree to which it is a problem, and what should be done about it are all subjects is worthy of a lengthier discussion.

With regard to the Coliseum review, and others like it (I've penned more than a few such reviews here at GWJ), I'm struck by Jolly Bill's comments, along the lines that some games simply may not inspire a more rigorous or thoughtful analysis. For me, this is absolutely the case. When I write about a game simply as a product for evaluation, it's because there was little about that experience that compelled me to think of it as anything greater. Now, an argument could be made that such an approach is borne of lack of insight or even laziness, for any game can probably be dissected in the context of deeper, more thoughtful analysis. But the simple fact is that certain games readily inspire, and others do not. By the same token, some games are ideal for illuminating larger, more important ideas, by virtue of their subject matter, characteristics, or visibility. They lend themselves to more compelling critical discussions, while others do not.

In the end, the decision for the critic/reviewer may be a practical one. Some games simply don't lend themselves well to more detailed discussion. In these cases, I'm often resigned to simply evaluate and describe a product, because I suspect that my comments will prove useful to those with questions about the game, even if they're inclined in some cases to skip to the highlights or conclusion. It's certainly less rewarding as a writer, and I don't look back on those pieces with the same sense of accomplishment, but I still think that such reviews perform a useful service. I read good reviews wherever I can find them, not because I want to spend money wisely, but because I'm fascinated by games, and I simply don't have time to play them all.

I just worry that with the occasional exception - teams like Meier/Reynolds, Bethesda Softworks, Will Wright, the GTA folks and others - that a critic would discover that many games are produced by people with no "soft arts" background beyond a steady diet of Robert E. Howard derivative novels and badly dubbed Japanimation. I don't think we can make the argument that there is too little material for the critic, since film criticism started very early on in the cinema. But there are so many games that don't even try to make a point that it seems that there is a natural distinction between Pac-Man/Doom/Dune and Darwinia/America's Army/Age of Empires. (And even those comparisons seem, well, floppy and indistinct to me.)

So do we then distinguish between "artistic games" and "mass media" games? I guess that might be a fruitful place to start, actually. But it will show up the distressing lack of liberal arts majors in the gaming industry, as well as the huge impact they can have - putatively.

It's time for gaming companies to grow up and seperate story-generation from coding. I know some do, but more should.

Robear wrote:

I just worry that with the occasional exception - teams like Meier/Reynolds, Bethesda Softworks, Will Wright, the GTA folks and others - that a critic would discover that many games are produced by people with no "soft arts" background beyond a steady diet of Robert E. Howard derivative novels and badly dubbed Japanimation. I don't think we can make the argument that there is too little material for the critic, since film criticism started very early on in the cinema. But there are so many games that don't even try to make a point that it seems that there is a natural distinction between Pac-Man/Doom/Dune and Darwinia/America's Army/Age of Empires. (And even those comparisons seem, well, floppy and indistinct to me.)

So do we then distinguish between "artistic games" and "mass media" games? I guess that might be a fruitful place to start, actually. But it will show up the distressing lack of liberal arts majors in the gaming industry, as well as the huge impact they can have - putatively.

It's time for gaming companies to grow up and seperate story-generation from coding. I know some do, but more should.

Good points, Robear.

Distinguishing between "mass media" and "artistic" titles can be problematic. Even "mass media" games often exhibit a great deal of conceptual elegance in their visual art direction. Plenty of games have beautifully designed environments or characters that exhibit a unified, refined aesthetic but have storylines that are absolute crap. So I think it's just as useful to distinguish those elements within individual games that exhibit artistic tendencies from those elements that don't.

At any rate, the divide between the sophistication of games' visual/graphical accomplishments and the sophistication of their storytelling efforts is definitely worthy of ongoing examination.

Robear wrote:

It's time for gaming companies to grow up and seperate story-generation from coding. I know some do, but more should.

Seperating both spells disaster too. A game is not a story, a story is not a game. They share traits, and can enfore each other, but rarely do so. Story writers and game designers need to work more closely together, understand each other. Maybe then...

Excellent discussion, all around. You folks make me proud to be here.

KaterinLHC wrote:

I couldn't disagree with you more about this point. Much like Robear said, I believe there is a very important and basic function that a game review (really, any review) serves: to provide enough information for a consumer so that he or she can make an informed decision whether or not to play the game. Game reviews are not the place to provide commentary on the human condition, or to explain how a given game fits into the greater tableau of human thought, or even to editorialize on the state of the game industry. A game review has one function: to provide information for the reader about a product. Save the introspective stuff for the game criticism, of which, I agree, there should be more (and written with more effort and finesse).

I agree that game reviews do, in general, have that one function, to describe the game. That is, I agree that this is the way things are now, and that that's not all bad, particularly in the hands of a capable writer. But I also believe that there is much room in the review format for exactly the kind of discussions you mention, on everything from the state of affairs in the industry today, to profound insight into all the important things that go along with being human. I feel that if we constrain such thoughts only to editorials, we are diminishing the prospects for quite a lot of fascinating writing. For example, I often think very fondly of The Fly's review of Shadow of the Colossus, since in addition to fulfilling the requirement of adequately describing the game, he also made some really interesting comments about the broad trends in the game industry, and the variance in mindset that different kinds of games may elicit.

In short, I believe that we can have our cake and eat it, too. A game review that delves into matters of criticism need not necessarily abdicate its traditional evaluative role, and may well actually enhance that role, as I believe is true of The Fly's review. To break down that dichotomy will involve a lot of work, but I believe the results speak for themselves.

In even shorter form: I yearn for the day when a copy of PC Gamer (or whatever) will resemble a copy of the New York Review of Books.

Jolly Bill wrote:

I agree with you that critics of games need to be a little more ambitious in the articles that they write, but I think you're being a little hard on yourself. Some games simply don't inspire the praise or disgust of a particular reviewer to the point where such criticism is possible.

I must agree with this point. It is partially for this reason that I am so glad to be a part of Gamers With Jobs, where Certis and Elysium basically let me say whatever I want, about, well, whatever I want. If I were under obligation here to address games or topics that were of no interest to me, I'd probably seek to form a new splinter sect.

Lobo wrote:

It is partially for this reason that I am so glad to be a part of Gamers With Jobs, where Certis and Elysium basically let me say whatever I want, about, well, whatever I want. If I were under obligation here to address games or topics that were of no interest to me, I'd probably seek to form a new splinter sect.

This is why I followed these guys from EA. They were offering precisely what the rest of the gaming media wasn't. Not only is the writing on this site great, it is honest. You folks don't just accept what the industry says and write gushy reviews in the hopes that they will advertise here or send a free copy of their product.

Furthermore, your last post convinced me Lobo. I think that we have to strive for an serious increase in gaming criticism for two reasons: 1)To convince the industry that there is a market for more engaging and meaningful games and in turn 2) to elevate this hobby to the echelons of the more respected forms of art.

Excellent discussion, everyone. It is at moments such as these that I am glad, and dare I say humbled, to be here.

To touch on what Robear and dejanzie were discussing up above, I'd say that games as a medium suffer in their success at combining innumerable elements into a single experience. By cramming story telling, audio, visuals, the mechanics of game play, and the demand for user interaction into a single space, we arrive at a product that can assume so many permutations that to single out any single piece of the whole and hold it above the rest as the sole recipient of critical review would be missing the point. And yet, that is often what seems to be the case when it comes to game reviewing as a whole. A truly engrossing story can be destroyed when paired with horrid game play. Meanwhile, a genius set of game play mechanics will never reach their potential when coupled with an uninteresting story, or rendered inoperable due to idiotic control schemes.

Review of linear material, critical or otherwise, such as books or movies is a far more straightforward pursuit in that, while multiple readings or viewings of the material may render deeper insight, games can be far more nebulous in their method of delivery and aim. With that said, I must concede that most games do not present a set of possibilities deep enough to demand further review beyond whether it was fun or not.

I applaud your ambition to push the format beyond what could be called a stagnant sea of game review. To sit back and point the finger at the game industry as a whole for not providing material demanding of critical review would be disingenuous. I simply ask that we not loose our focus along the way.

Lobo wrote:

In even shorter form: I yearn for the day when a copy of PC Gamer (or whatever) will resemble a copy of the New York Review of Books.

While your push for more ambition in games and game review is worthwhile, i'd happily live without it permeating the industry whole. I have read the ongoing argument in literary criticism circles about Racism and how it may or may not invalidate "Heart of Darkness", and quite frankly, if I had to deal with that in reading a review/critique of F.E.A.R., i'd stop reading reviews.

I do not think we have to condemn erudite, complex reviews of games only to the "Editorials" page, but I don't think that, for a review to neccessarily be of merit, Holden Caulfield has to be compared to Chrono. There is, and always will be a place for simple, and simple, in and of itself, is not wrong.

I do desire to see gaming as a medium bring itself up higher, to the level where someday, yes, I could read a Feminist Critiqute of Samus Aran and her adventures. And yet, at the same time, sometimes I just want to know if the new baseketball game sucks or not, and couldn't care less about what Balzac would say about the fluctuations of the free-agent market.

It seems that i'm speaking in extremes though, and I don't want to do that. There's a happy medium to be struck here somewhere, and that is the kind of world that I would aspire for.

I agree that reviews can encompass criticism, I'm just asking whether the industry is mature enough that most critviews won't be slash and burn, and whether designers can learn from them. It would be interesting to do a set of retrospective critiques on game genres as a wake-up call. A broad look at the state of the art in FPS or RTS or TBT could be a touchstone for future comparisons, and serve notice that gamers actually do pay attention to more than just the shiny.

The advantage of doing an editorial about, say, the state of the gaming industry when it comes to RPG's, is that you're focussing on a whole genre of games. Of course it makes sense to do a review of a game and value its particular impact on the overall genre, what the industry is coming too or even more profound rationalizations, and as such including this kind of constructive criticism and comments in a game review is very much in place. But I think there is still a great, urgent need for more editorials about the whole of a genre, industry or art that we are dealing with. To me, it seems more logical to review the state of affairs as an overview resorting of course to particular and outstanding examples, rather than basing oneself on one such example to extrapolate to a wider set of, in this case, games.

By the way, the level of depth and finesse in this post almost made me reconsider posting, as I feel I'm not up to the challenge. Good thing I think very higly of myself

FWIW, I agree with Till. If we wanted critical analysis of the genre - well, we're at the place it's happening more than anywhere else on the web that I know of.