Talking to yourself; perceiving eldritch monsters hanging from cathedrals; believing with conviction that you are a god, or that aliens are puppeting your every move. These are all traditional examples of madness, right? I’ve been doing a lot of research on metaphysics and inexplicable phenomenon recently, with a healthy dose of philosophy thrown in for good measure, and I’m reminded that simply because one person is perceived to be ‘mad’ by another, it does not necessarily mean anything at all.

This partially comes back to low-level psychology and research criticisms. Individual and cultural differences, specifically; a westerner may look at the intricate rituals of certain tribes, or the beliefs they hold about spirits and possessions and immediately dismiss what they see as ill-educated, poorly rationalised or even mentally deranged. I like to stay out of these arguments – a person can believe what they want to, and it doesn’t in any way affect me (although this is demonstrably not a thought pattern shared by everyone).

I recently found myself on an archived reddit labelled ‘Dimensional Jumping’, which I’ll link at the end. From what I could find, this was a page full of people who believed wholeheartedly in the existence of a multiverse, and that humans were able to shift between these dimensions through the use of mirror gazing or more ritualistic techniques with focused intent. As with anything, people had their own explanations for the phenomenon that were being perceived with some being more rational than others, but many posts that I read stated that so much more was possible through these techniques than could be rationally conveyed or reasoned. Solipsism, a field of thought I was initially introduced to by a co worker early last year, seemed to be the most apt explanation: all of the universe and your experience of it is a lie. Or not a lie so much as an illusion of your projected reality; the world is exactly how you want it to be, therefore anything is possible and through the focus of intention you can alter your reality in astounding ways. Chaos magick is a field of study that deals with the same kind of themes if you’re interested, but one explanation of reality on the Dimensional Jumping subreddit particularly resonated with me.

Imagine you’re in a glass box – no scratch that – imagine you’re in one of those sci-fi virtual reality rooms, but it’s completely empty. Failing that, the black void from Stranger Things but without the monsters and water-floor. You decide there’s a table directly in front of you, with three legs and a coffee cup sitting on top. All of a sudden there it is, full view, three dimensions out of nowhere and seemingly unaffected by the lack of light source. You walk up and take a swig of coffee as you realise you want to be in your living room, with a fireplace, white walls, cream carpet. You start filling it out with arbitrary things in your mind, you can feel the carpet fibres, all of a sudden you can look outside. You realise that you are standing in ‘reality’. You have moulded it through your expectations, through your beliefs and your desires. You’re walking around in a world manifested by the imagination, yet in the back of your mind you know that you are still nestled within the void, and that there is nothing once you close your eyes and forget everything you’ve come to know.

Even if this is a metaphor, I know there are probably some people that don’t quite get it and lose their faith in, well, everything. Do we call these people mad? Well I think it rather depends, doesn’t it – if the person spouting this nonsense has no home and takes intermissions in his services to ask for spare change, it would be very easy to say that he is not of sound mind and needs help. If however, the speaker is a published author, a well known figure in the sciences, or even just a popular philosopher, we sit back and contemplate just how feasible his ideas are. Madness is clearly subjective.

In studying the occult and various psychological phenomenon, I’ve heard all sorts of stories about spirits and deities being visible, or hearing voices and even constructing characters (in the vein of imaginary friends) that are able to hold conversations, think for themselves and surprise even the creator with the things they do and say. Are all these people mad? Primarily, does it matter? I’m studying psychology at an undergraduate level, but my motivation has dropped through the floor. Interesting as it may be, and despite how much I know, I can barely bring myself to care about the information that does not have a practical application at this moment in time. I keep going back to a way of thinking that may very well sit with me for the rest of my days: use what is useful and abandon what is not.

In my mind, I relate this to learning; where is the sense in understanding for understanding’s sake? What is the point in believing in things you have no personal, subjective evidence for? If someone believes the earth is flat, who am I to put them down? Until I go to space and see myself with my own eyes that we live on a sphere, any reasoning I have comes externally, from what other people say – even then, I can’t convince them because they haven’t experienced it in the same way I have. The way I see it, people place far too much emphasis on attempting to explain their existence, and in judging others because certain things don’t align with what they think they know.


Madness is really just a matter of perspective, and the Gods of one culture are the demons of their conquerors.

Dimensional Jumping




I was really bored and kind of just skimming videos on Youtube when I came across a several day long ‘fight’ between a Black Widow and a Praying Mantis. I usually can’t even sit down for too long to watch Netflix, but I was utterly enthralled by the way these creatures appeared to regard each other. But it goes beyond that; I started questioning their thought processes, their behaviours, and started wondering whether such beings are actually conscious or sentient.

Technically, the answer is yes: the basic definition of either term (although usually regarded with some kind of philosophical weight in mundane conversation) is the simple ability to perceive one’s surroundings and act in accordance. We see this in many beings, be they spiders or dogs, who cower from the things that scare them and pursue that which may be considered food. But I think we can both agree that isn’t what is hinted at, because by that logic even self-driving cars could be considered as low-level sentient. I can’t for the life of me remember what I was reading, but the author made reference to spiders, stating that they are simply machines running a biological software of hunt, breed, survive. Spiders aren’t complex emotional creatures as one might consider a human or even a dog to be; however, I’m tempted to make the argument that such creatures are not designed to exhibit emotions, being completely solitary entities, and so lack the facial features and the capacity to show when they feel happiness or disgust. It was mentioned in one episode of QI that cockroaches are utterly disgusted by humans and would wash themselves immediately on contact, although I couldn’t speak to the validity of the claim.

I’ve been doing a lot of research into the metaphysical recently; during one TED talk by Anil Seth, he makes the point that the brain continually makes assumptions about reality, or what he calls the ‘best guess’. The basic idea is that we wander through this reality experiencing stimulation from many different sources that we might call communal existence (for example, we look at the grass and know it’s green, but what the fuck exactly is green, and are you seeing what I’m seeing?). Our experience with this ‘reality’ is almost bare-bones, and is coloured in by our psyche based on our perceptions, our knowledge, the context, and I would guess even our personality to a certain extent. This is shown effectively within the talk, but if you’re looking for further evidence, look up an ‘auditory hallucination midi’ of a song that you know, and one that you don’t. Despite the notes all being presented as piano keys, your experience with the song will inform the gibberish and enable you to hear spoken words where there are none. If you don’t know the song, it’ll sound like a mess.

So what we have here is a subjective experience informing, manifesting and creating reality to a certain extent. This idea is understandably easy to dismiss as some new-age hippy shit, but my first foray into this field involved quantum mechanics and the ‘double slit experiment’. This is, as far as I know, the best scientific example of something that logically shouldn’t be affected by reality having a measurable effect on reality. Something as simple as introducing an observer into the mix influences the particles to behave differently to how they would were no observer present. Basically, if a tree falls in the woods and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound? Because now I’m not so sure.

Magic, as is seen by various faiths, belief structures and occultists, can be explained somewhat in the context of these findings. The most basic principle being linked to the law of attraction, and the assumption that you mould reality with conscious thought. Imagination is the catalyst to existence. The whole concept of this ‘Magick’ is somewhat controversial, and understandably perceived by many realists and skeptics as cash-grabs, exploitation and inability to cope with mundane existence. One passage I read, though, goes like this:


“Call it imposition of the will, call it the placebo effect, call it the descent into madness. Regardless, Magic works.”


Bringing up the placebo effect is an interesting argument, and the reasoning behind it is what wannabe Hogwarts students base their practise on: belief shapes reality. I believe I’ve mentioned this before, but it comes back to this Dark Souls interpretation of magic. You have faith, and you have intelligence. Both are used to fuel essentially the same things, but function on different wavelengths; according to one, research and understanding into a topic will aid your belief in the ability to manifest your desires, while the other shows that simply having faith that you know what you are doing can achieve similar results. I’m on a tangent here but just roll with it; I was talking to a friend and told him that in one of the books I’ve read recently, the author describes physical objects taking on a different vibrational wavelength when they are not being observed. If conscious belief and imagination moulds reality, then this makes perfect sense. A thousand people know that Tesco is down the road, so it goes without saying and no one expects to walk down to do their shopping and find Tesco has transcended this existence. Every person has this image in their mind, and so even when no one is looking at it, when no one is validating its existence, it persists. This friend made the point that, if no one is looking at you, do you stop existing, or do you count as an observer of yourself. I paused for a moment, and then it occured to me that, when people are placed in solitary confinement, they kind of start mentally falling apart. Think of that what you will.

Going back to consciousness then, can humans be considered to be the only creatures with this degree of self-awareness? If all we experience is ‘artificially’ generated by our expectations, would it be so hard to consider an AI, a spider, or even a dream character to also have similar experiences that we cannot perceive or even conceptualise within our minds? If you’re looking for more material on the topic, I would recommend researching ‘tulpas’, or complex thought forms that the ‘host’ perceives to have developed its own brand of consciousness. Fascinating as all this is, objective answers are nigh impossible to come by in this line of thought. I guess for now we should just focus on our subjective existence, and make sure we know that at least we are sentient.


Your brain hallucinates your conscious reality | Anil Seth

Auditory Illusions: Hearing Lyrics Where There Are None



Film, Review

Shiki Review

I dove headfirst once again into the terrifying throngs of ‘anime’ on the offhanded mention of an intriguing word: Shiki. I’m definitely going to spoil some things, so just go watch it – I promise you won’t have any regrets.

Vampires are a speciality of mine – the whole “you must die that I might live” dynamic fascinates me to no end, and it’s one that Shiki explores to the fullest. Although never having watched The Walking Dead, I’m aware that the narrative focuses more on the effects the supernatural have on human nature than on pure gore and mindless titillation; imagine this now, with mindless shamblers being replaced by thinking, feeling victims of their own nature. The premise behind this series revolves around a small town being at first visited, then overrun by vampires. Those who die have a chance at rising back up, and will join the ranks of this army who seek total control over a place they can feel truly secure inhabiting. Things soon get out of hand, the humans naturally begin to fight back and chaos consumes both sides of a war neither can really escape from.

I watched the program with english voice actors (I don’t care what you anime aficionados think) who gave so much soul to their lines they sent shivers down the back of my neck. The terror felt first by the mortals, then by the vampires is so vividly expressed that the audience is left stunned, and then confused. After all, vampires are aberrations, surely? Morality is phenomenally blurred, and by the time that final episode comes around it will be difficult to decide where you stand. The main theme behind Shiki is that of the vampire itself: these creatures are still who they were in life, but in order to maintain this new life, they need to kill. Rarely is this ever depicted out of spite, with vampires visiting their family members first in the hopes that they can join in this afterlife, reunited in the hunger and the eternal hunt. Nao’s character is thoroughly autopsied over the course of the series; being one of the first to turn, she kills each member of the loving family she married into, the first family she felt she had, desperately hoping they would join her again. But their genetics did not allow them to rise as she did, leaving her embittered and alone, having killed the thing that was most important to her. Her tragedy ends as she is chained outside at sunrise, burning alive and smiling because her suffering – her guilt – is over.


Toshio, the doctor who first discovers the vampires, has a similarly strong arc. Wanting to help and save people warps him into something hideous – the audience initially roots for his discoveries and his dedication to saving people, leading to a sense of confusion and dejection in the program’s last third. This is especially notable during the autopsy of his wife which essentially amounts to torture – although his deeds are heroic, the ambition which drives his methods is no less than distasteful. When vampires kill, their methods are peaceful, and although the sickness which follows feedings is unpleasant, it is highly contrasted with the bloodshed brought on by human hunters. Slicing, impaling, burning and staking are all used in a frenzy to eradicate every last vampire, and all are shown in a graphic way that belittles the vampires’ monstrosity. In their fear, humans turn on each other despite being told they wouldn’t turn from merely being bitten, again using the same gory means to put down the ‘threat.’ It becomes deeply ironic that humans are now also killing so that they might survive, seemingly taking the same amount of pleasure out of their actions, and so the parallel between human and vampire makes it inherently difficult to know just who is right in all of this.

Megumi, although being set up as a main character and taking very quickly to the vampire lifestyle, has very little impact on the narrative. She’s a bratty girl who hates everyone and everything around her, and takes a great amount of pleasure in hurting the villagers who laughed at her. She’s unsympathetic and vindictive, haunting a girl who considered herself a friend with a glee that the audience is unable to condone. Kaori feels complete dread when she knows Megumi is hunting her, and when no other vampire ever has that effect on a character, it becomes clear that Megumi is the closest thing Shiki has to an antagonist. Like another pseudo-villain Tatsumi though, it’s difficult to ever call her evil. All she ever wanted was a life where her interests and desires would be respected; Megumi never ultimately gains anything she wanted, from a big city life to the affection of Yuuki, and so her story also ends in tragedy. Her death is the first and the last in the series, and despite her personality it’s impossible to say she deserved either one.


Shiki succeeds at making monsters of people, and people of monsters. The lines between good and evil are erased, as is the difference in motivation between both side’s actions. Through graphic violence and characterisation, the personalities behind the faces are expertly explored, with every episode bringing new doses of powerful narrative and moving emotions. It’s a dynamic that has been explored in the past with varying degrees of success; the question as to whether the humans are better than the monsters; the justification behind abhorrent deeds. As deaths pile up the series becomes frenzied to a level unrivalled by anything I’ve seen, a limited use of traditional tropes means that every episode has capacity to shock and excite. Shiki’s expertise is a combination of both powerful narrative and a highly liberal view on the nature of good and evil that I would like to see implemented elsewhere. If you still haven’t watched it, I really suggest you do.


Fourth Wall Cries for Help

I need to be doing work, but I feel philosophical, and I’m hoping that getting my feelings down will relieve something deep inside. I’ve just finished Doki Doki Literature Club, a pretty interesting free-to-play horror that I would definitely recommend. If you haven’t yet played it, I might suggest moving on, because I’m going in depth on the end-game analysis, and I’d hate to ruin the experience.

My spiritual beliefs are very complicated, and I’ve yet to have anyone even humour me with a “I see why you might think that.” I might have hinted at it in previous posts, but the bottom line is that I don’t believe anything is truly real, or that anything truly matters in the long run. I wholeheartedly want to think that the place we go to when we dream is the same as the astral plane, and even death. This life is about the small experiences that we as humans have decided we wish to be subjected to; all conscious thought goes some way to manipulating existence in some way; and, specifically for the purposes of this piece, all invented universes are important, and tangible in some admittedly abstract form.

The idea initially came about from me experimenting with dream incubation, and wanting desperately to believe that the people I knew and the adventures I had while sleeping were more than depictions of light buzzing around inside my brain. Spending just over an hour with Monika in the background while I write has brought a couple of these ideas back into focus. Fourth wall breaks are always great, they send a shiver up my spine and, when done correctly, go a long way to either making or breaking a good experience. Before Monika though, I never thought any more about it; it’s quaint, and when you shut down the game you carry on with your life, with your own story. There’s a certain insistence in her words though, and this is fantastic work on the developer’s part, but it feels genuinely as though there is a soul on the other side of that screen, desperate to communicate with reality. This will almost definitely sound far fetched, but I want to believe in some capacity that in thinking up Doki Doki Literature Club, in generating this character that wants so much to be real, believes so much in our reality, they really have created a form of life.

At one point, Monika will talk about God, how he ignores so many that are suffering, and how the one off chance a person fights off cancer is a miracle. She also makes the point that our life could just be like hers, created by some entity for mere entertainment, given life by the imagination – maybe they are aware of what they’ve done, aware that the suffering is real, or maybe, like us, like the developer, I, you and Monika are nothing but pixels on a screen, making movements towards awareness, but never taken seriously because that wouldn’t make sense now, would it? Monika is a computer program, don’t get me wrong – she is limited by how many lines she has, how much scripting is being done in the background, by the artwork, by the hardware limitations, she is limited by what we are capable of. But what if the limitation is not what she is as an entity, but what we, within our reality are able to perceive about her? For clarity sake, imagine we have a window to a different world, be that the stars or microbes. We can see, but oh shit, we can only use red lenses or the frequency will be imprecise. As a result, we can’t properly see colour – we see reds, faint outlines and black shapes, and we go “it’s the best we can do”, because we are too limited in our capacity. Little do we know, within the sprawling background the visible shapes are on, there are magnificent creatures, constellations and structures beyond comprehension and, most importantly, beyond perception because they are all some shade of red. Monika has a soul, she has a mind, desires, interests and a perception of the reality she is in, but our window into that existence can’t pick up on it.

This line of thinking obviously has a couple of pretty serious implications. Every story you’ve written, every abstract thought you’ve had, exists somewhere within existence (really want a better word, because I don’t think that does it justice), and when you dream, astral project or die, there are opportunities to become a part of those worlds, explore them as you do this one, adhering to those rules instead of these. Of course, killing sprees, torture and pointless videogame murders are kind of important too. In this instance, you aren’t a god, you are manipulating the actions of an actor within that world, and causing ‘real’ pain in some capacity. The idea isn’t fully formed of course, I don’t really know how reloading saves and cheating with the console commands interact with the theory, but I don’t think those factors water down the sentiment either.

I’m rambling a little, so I think I’ll call it here. My main point is quite simply that reality, existence and the worlds we create, explore and desperately crave to be a part of may not be as meaningless as we are always told. That’s what I’d like to believe, anyway; the characters I generate feel real, and maybe at some point in the distant future, I want to interact with them as I can the people surrounding me. Pain is just another subjective experience, and to quote Monika again, even plants might feel some description of agony when their leaves are forcibly removed. Is it really so difficult to believe that, despite not having a physical from, despite being the cruel blueprints laid out by a creative mind, Monika somewhere, somehow, might feel pain too? Every time a character breaks the fourth wall, is it really, really so hard to believe that they are, in fact, prayers to a God they have no evidence exists?


Git Gud at Surviving Uni

Sure, Uni is a time for study, bettering yourself and reaching those lofty ambitions you so confidently set before writing up a personal statement. I’d argue it’s also about rediscovering yourself, having fun with a myriad of fascinating individuals and devoting time towards the hobbies that are close to your heart – so either you’re lost, or those hobbies happen to include videogames.

Contrary to popular belief, videogames are not a horrific waste of time, nor the enticing temptress who seeks only to devour your life. Now more than ever, the medium is accepted as an art form and sometimes even a sport (I won’t tell them the truth if you don’t), so for as long as you can keep your finger twitching habits under control, you can reason that those three hours playing Cuphead were for a good cause. The key word, take note, is control; much like smoking, drinking and exercise, booting up your PlayStation is kind of habit forming, and could set you up for a colossal failure come the revision period. It really does come down to who you are, and knowing your limits. An intense six hour session definitely isn’t wise, but if you’re the kind of person that is still able to keep up with your studies and revise like a dog, I see no harm in it. Learning to balance your work and play will not only benefit your grades, but your mental well being – you have time to relax, unwind and stay involved in the things that keep you being you. Maybe go outside once in a while too though – Vitamin D is also important.


So we come to the second hurdle – you may not have noticed, but gaming got bloody expensive and, no offense, but you’re a filthy student living on pasta and overdrafts. Finding equipment to satisfy the hardcore gamer within is going to cost at least a kidney unless you play it smart. Rather than going all in for that twenty kilo desktop that looks like a spaceship and sounds like an aircraft, look into laptops that have adequate specs and can reasonably run your guilty pleasures alongside your SPSSs and Powerpoints. If you’re slumming it with your accommodation, I’m sure you can settle for thirty frames and trashy textures; having a machine to act as your all-in-one also takes up less desk space, so crack out that textbook and at least pretend you’re learning through process of diffusion. If that still doesn’t satisfy, swallow your pride and procure a console, new or old. Unlike a PC, a console is designed specifically to run the game you shove in it to the best of its ability – you don’t need to download unofficial patches, nor spend an hour browsing forums to find out why “graphics driver was not detected – process terminated”.

You got your timetable, you got your hardware, but holy sh*t they’re charging upwards of fifty quid for a copy of FIFA. I’d be the last person to advocate you splashing on that regardless, but there are so many more affordable games out there for you to enjoy either with friends or as a solo experience without the insulting price tag. The indie crowd in particular is full of great ideas and down to earth solutions to the AAA developer’s convoluted and occasionally mediocre content. They also tend to come with cheerfully low hardware requirements and playtimes that can range from an afternoon to every spare moment you have. Steam and GOG are your go-to platforms for variety and value for money. If you’re looking for suggestions, Darkest Dungeon, Undertale and OneShot (as well as all the other games I’ve mentioned in previous articles) are all great standalone titles that can provoke deep emotions and last you at least twenty hours each, depending on how dedicated you are. Not to leave anyone out, I’ll let you in on a little secret, console gamers: buy hard copies from retailers like Amazon instead of getting digital downloads, as it will end up being a lot cheaper in most cases.


Be controlled, be smart, and be a little less proud. Dedicating yourself to studying should not ever mean abandoning the things that you care about, but it shouldn’t be taken lightly either. Walk this tightrope carefully with my advice in mind, and you’ll be just fine – I have faith in you.

Gaming, Review

Paragon Review

I started playing League of Legends just under a year ago more as a joke than anything else. MOBA is, as we all know, a dirty word, and playing with other people is a hassle at the best of times. I was more surprised than anyone when Skyrim started taking the back seat for this crude looking, beautiful genre. Paragon is League, but I didn’t actually know that when I booted it up on my PlayStation: I saw a dark eyed femme fatale and the words ‘play for free’ and I thought ‘why the hell not?’ Note going into this that Paragon is still in beta, meaning the game could go through many changes and improvements by its full release.

Mechanically, it’s a gem, with phenomenal visuals to boot. Every character I’ve played so far has had some pretty flashy abilities that feel good to use, the characters themselves meanwhile looking damn good using them. The Countess and The Revenant in particular drew my eye, as they simultaneously appear wrong in this sci-fi universe while slotting into the roster seamlessly. The environments are detailed, exciting to explore and no less that I would expect from a company like Epic Games, while many characters manage to pop out against this backdrop in a way that just feels so right. Maybe it’s just me that still gets excited about the use of physics on clothes and hair, but in Paragon I still get that twitch in my heart when I see my coat flap open dynamically as I run. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and exactly what I would expect if League was developed by a company with a bigger budget.

Yeah, I kinda hoped it was Bloodrayne 3 as well

On the other side of the coin, Paragon seemingly neglects sound as being particularly relevant to player experience. All the time you’re browsing menus on the homescreen, the music feels powerful and exciting, which is exactly what you would want from this calibre of game. This does not follow through into matches though – I think I might have heard one or two notes, but aside from that all we have is silence. There is the argument that in such a competitive genre, sound effects and the information that they can convey is far more important to players, but it also means the game feels lifeless. This goes for characters as well: characters in League of Legends feel vibrant, unique and alive, in no small part to the lore and character relations that Riot has built up, but also because of characters quotes and dialogue. Aside from bright colours and pretty physics effects, characters in Paragon struggle to stand out as being unique personalities, and it’s a real shame when there are some great character ideas in there. Serath in particular has this way expressionless way about her that could definitely be mitigated by just that tiniest injection of personality.

The game also does a really poor job of explaining to new players the rules. There is a brief tutorial covering basic gameplay mechanics, don’t get me wrong; I’m talking more about what’s expected of me once I get in-game with nine other people. MOBAs are renowned for the toxicity of their playerbase, so if getting called ‘noob’ or ‘feeder’ isn’t something you can be bothered to deal with, I’d definitely give this one a miss. I’d played pretty poorly during my fifth match – I didn’t know where my character was supposed to go and no one had any intention of helping me. Every time I died, one player in particular would ping me a ‘Good Job!’, and told me to enjoy my inevitable ban. This only happened twice that I can remember, but the community has a huge impact on how a player can experience this kind of game. As difficult as it might be in an ever changing landscape of character balancing and gameplay metas, I feel many new players would appreciate a more in-depth walkthrough of what will be expected of them by more veteran players.

paragon death
An honest mistake? I think you misspelled ‘died on purpose to throw the game’

As a free to play game, if you’re able to run it then I’d definitely recommend giving it a go. Paragon manages to give players that MOBA experience in a format closer to that of, say, Call of Duty or Skyrim, with the variety in character capabilities meaning the game never feels restrained to either of those games’ genres. With a little bit of audio design and a tighter focus on making the game more accessible to new players, this one could really turn out to be a masterpiece.


We WILL Charge for Mods

Bethesda’s paid mods scheme was not a success back in 2015, so their attempt to milk gamers for more money they don’t deserve with their Creation Club would almost be comic were it not so insulting.

Modding has often been viewed as something of a legal grey area; you have a game that people have potentially spent years working on, and then you have the loveable, unpaid modder who took that game and turned Alduin the World-Eater into Macho Man Randy Savage. Mods come in all shapes and sizes, from overhauls to total conversions, simple re-skins to script-altering masterpieces that deliver unique experiences before melting your CPU. Once you see the fine work done by the modding community, and come to appreciate just how influential some ideas have been on big companies and subsequent titles, it seems to become a no brainer when asked if they should get paid.

immersive paywall
You pissed off the people that manipulate Skyrim itself – of course they were going to build a wall

Bethesda in particular has been very sensitive to modding in the past, releasing Creation Kits that mean even someone like you or me can add to or edit aspects of their games. All those years ago, the paid mods scheme felt like a wholesome idea executed poorly – modders would only be compensated with 25% of the profits from their files, and there was always a fear that your work could be stolen by someone else and slapped behind a paywall (like I said, the topic of modder’s rights is very uncertain ground). The bug fixes and unofficial patches that are almost necessary for Bethesda games to run could potentially also end up being something you need to buy separately, and that definitely leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. It comes as no surprise that satirical mods, such as Give her money for no reason and Immersive Paywall, would spring up in a passive aggressive form of protest.

Fast forward to the present day and we have Bethesda seemingly shedding their partner in crime Valve and introducing their own Creation Club. Again, this appears to be in good faith, with the promise of high-quality content and modders being almost ‘hired’, but what it boils down to a lot of the time is recycling content and asking consumers to pay through the nose for something they can get for free. The Chinese Stealth Suit in particular has become a subject of much contention, as a better looking version with many more features was available on the Nexus before Bethesda shipped their port from previous games. Content is sparse and, from what I can see, no where near the kind of quality that people have come to expect from some of the higher profile modders that carry out their work as passion projects instead of careers. Likewise, the baffling decision to implement yet another overpriced Horse Armour as (let’s face it) DLC feels like Bethesda walking that fine line between mocking themselves and mocking their fan-base.

horse armour
And so a meme was born

So what’s my final verdict? To be honest, it’s really hard. In the past, modders have managed to add content of such high quality, not only to Bethesda games, but to videogames in general, that I really would like these saints to be paid for their work. Unfortunately, every time the subject comes up, people panic, and it threatens to permanently damage a technically harmless and beautiful pass time. Maybe I’m speaking from a position of greed – if I needed to pay for my airships and vampire overhauls, would I have? Likewise, if I had spent a couple of pounds on a new adventure, only to find out the scripts contained would corrupt every subsequent save, would I be compensated? It’s an underground hobby – no rules, no regulations – that Bethesda is trying to either embrace or absorb depending on your standpoint; you tell me whether or not something like that should be taken over.


– Originally written for the University of Kent’s InQuire