XNA Community Games

Caliban Darklock wrote this in the early evening:

So Microsoft has this whole XNA initiative, and one of the things they’re unveiling for Holiday ‘08 is the Community Games portal where XNA Creators’ Club members ($99 annually, $49 for three months) can put their XNA games on XBox LIVE for anyone and everyone who has an XBox 360 to download.

Trouble is, you can’t put your game up there and charge nothing for it. You’re required to charge 200 points for a 50 MB game, and 400 for a 150 MB game. You may also opt to charge 400 points for a 50 MB game, or 800 points for a game of either size. The revenue split is 70% and paid quarterly; at the current rate of 1.25 cents per point, this means you can earn $1.75, $3.50, or $7.00 per copy sold, depending on your price point. Microsoft can also position and promote your game, for an additional 10% to 30% of revenue - reducing your cut to a minimum of $1.00 to $4.00 - under conditions that aren’t entirely clear.

Now, first off, this is a generous revenue split. Good luck getting anything even close to this from a normal publisher or distributor. One of the better avenues I’ve researched - Reflexive Games - gives you the same 40% Microsoft is offering at the bottom end of their scale, but never goes above that.

But what really chaps my arse is the sheer number of people who can’t stop whinging about the inability to offer their games on XBox LIVE for free.

I am so incredibly jazzed about XNA, I can’t stop gushing about it. I’ve constructed a pretty decent 2D Breakout-style game that’s actually fun to play. I don’t have to worry about the details of getting sprites on the screen and sorting them and rendering transparency; XNA handles all that for me. It took me just over a week to build a working game. Now here comes Microsoft to say that for under $100, I can publish that game on XBox LIVE before the end of the year and actually get paid for it. That rules. This has changed everything - I’ve had this dream of building an indie game studio for over a decade, and now here’s exactly the channel I need to make that dream a reality.

But the community is divided over the relatively minor point that you can’t give your game away for free over that same channel.

And that’s rather a shame.

Games, Toys, and Play

Caliban Darklock wrote this terribly early in the morning:

It’s occasionally instructive to examine a taxonomy and formalise it somewhat.

Russ Nelson’s discussion of game theory in economics relied on what is, at heart, a fundamental misunderstanding of what a game is. He selects a subtype of game and acts as though this is the only possible type of game. In reality, he ignores many alternative forms of game, and thus needlessly restricts his thinking.

I’ve defined a few terms related to this in a way that I find useful and instructive. Your mileage may vary.

Play is the pursuit of fun. It is the normal reason one makes use of toys and games. Fun, however, is a fungible concept - everyone has a different definition of it. In order to accurately interpret the suitability of a toy or game, one must first establish the current definition of fun. Depending on that definition, it may not be necessary to employ toys or games - young children often play by simply making noises and wandering about at random, amusing themselves with no particular attachments to any specific activity. A more adult version of this is web surfing, where you begin by looking at some specific site, but rapidly devolve into repeated instances of “ooh, shiny” as you happily wander about the internet. (It’s been a long time for most adults since they got to just play. I’d be tempted to point at this as the single greatest value in the internet.)

Humanity, however - for better or worse - craves structure. And as a result, open play rapidly gives way to the toy. The toy is not necessarily a physical object; neither is the game, which we will cover shortly. What distinguishes the toy is the definition of rules. The minimal set of rules is “this is a toy”; it establishes a focal point for play, and play may be further self-directed by the addition of more rules: ”This small model car is a toy; it follows the rules natural and normal to real cars. It usually drives forward, does not drive in reverse for more than a few seconds, does not drive laterally at all, and is required to obey traffic laws and rules of the road. This particular car is being driven from home to work by a businessman who is late for a meeting.” There is no natural requirement for any of these rules, and they might be changed or removed at any time. When a child playing by these rules becomes bored by them (most children view “lack of boredom” as a definition of fun), he simply alters the ruleset: “Oh no, space monkeys are attacking! The businessman has to save the planet by turning his car into a spaceship!” The boundaries are essentially wherever the player chooses to put them. An adult variety of this might be Wikipedia surfing; rather than browse the entire internet, the user browses only Wikipedia. (One is rather less likely to find malicious or dangerous content on Wikipedia.)

But toys are for solo play, and human beings crave not only structure, but social interaction. And here is where it gets interesting: a game is when two or more people agree on a set of rules for play. They are not required to play together. They are not required to play for the same reason. They are only required to agree on the rules. And the rules do not necessarily require the players to interact at all: “six degrees of Kevin Bacon” is a game, even when only one person plays. The goal is to start with one actor in one movie, and identify a chain of co-stars such that one eventually reaches Kevin Bacon. Groups will often turn this into a social event by having one person identify the starting point, and having group members trace the appropriate chain. But all one really needs to play is the IMDB. A variant of this is “clicks to porn”; from a given site, how many clicks on hyperlinks must be made at a minimum to reach pornographic material? A single player plays to beat his high score on a given site; a group competes, sometimes with a bidding war akin to the old game show “Name That Tune”.

In group gaming scenarios, any player may ruin the game for all concerned by twisting the interpretation of the rules. By altering the rules of the game without consent from the other players, this player creates his own personal toy - which may be useful in pursuing his own brand of fun, but alters the ability of others to seek their own definitions of fun. In the party game “Killer”, for example, players sit in a circle and one is secretly selected (usually by dealing cards) as the “killer”. The “killer” may “kill” other players by winking at them, at which point the “dead” player must announce that he has been “killed” and leave the circle. The killer may win by “killing” all the other players, or another player may win by correctly identifying the “killer” before being “killed”. Once it has been agreed that this game will be played, it is not too terribly uncommon for one player to take the approach that if he is selected as the “killer”, he will commit “suicide” by announcing that he has been “killed” and leaving the circle. In the event that this player actually does end up selected, fascinating social dynamics play out, but the only one having fun is the recalcitrant “killer” who has invented and followed a rule nobody else knows.

This is often called “cheating”. It’s a violation of the fundamental social contract of any game: that everyone is playing by the same rules. There are a few special cases of this; in games with very few rules, the social contract often includes rules which are not explicitly stated, and the inexperienced player can violate these implicit rules (or infer entirely different rules) without intending to do so. In games with a vast quantity of rules, the social contract often excludes many of those rules, and an inexperienced player may then follow rules nobody else follows - or, more damagingly, demand that others follow rules that are not normally followed. In games where the rules are enforced by an automated mechanism - e.g. a computer - an individual who has significant familiarity with the mechanism may be able to partially or completely bypass it, thereby exempting himself from a rule to which others remain subject.

To relate all of this back to economics, game theory in economics is not about examining the play of the game, but the rules of the game: what are the rules governing play in specific situations? Where do individuals “cheat” in the game, e.g. through information asymmetry? When the game/market breaks down and no fun/value results from play/trade, have one or both parties in the transaction cheated by converting the game into a toy?

I’ve been criticised a little for this set of definitions, and accused of rewriting terms to match my own needs. I don’t quite understand the criticism; philosophers since Wittgenstein have long wrestled with the question of what constitutes a game, and Chris Crawford was trying to establish a formal taxonomy in his 2003 book “Chris Crawford on Game Design”. The most accurate criticism I’ve heard so far is that this reclassifies some games as toys, but this is intentional - some things we call games are toys, and need to be classified as such to draw useful comparisons and conclusions.

Not to sound arrogant, but of all the things I’ve come up with to date while sitting around thinking, I suspect this is the one for which I’m most likely to become known. It simply has the highest probability of being useful.

Game Theory in Economics

Caliban Darklock wrote this mid-morning:

Russ Nelson doesn’t understand the purpose of game theory in economics. He says games have winners and losers.

This is not true. When you play “doctor” or “house”, everybody plays and everybody has fun. Most games do not represent free markets; they represent tightly controlled markets overseen by a rigid and implacable central body called “the rules”. Only in the earliest and most innocent of games do you find representations of free markets, and in those games, everyone who plays does indeed win.

More advanced games sometimes try to provide free market simulations, e.g. Dungeons & Dragons and its ilk, and one might even say Second Life or World of Warcraft qualified. But these are not really free. They pretend to be free, but instead institute the same sort of rigid heirarchy and implacable standards that allow people to practically lose where they cannot theoretically lose. You don’t really lose when your character dies in these games, because you can start over with a new character, but starting over is rarely fun once you’ve done it a few times. Even though in theory a loss is not really a loss, after enough deaths the player loses interest in playing the “start over” game again - and quits the game. Quitting is the ultimate loss.

Game theory investigates economic effects on the small scale. How do three or four people with known incentives and properties behave in a given situation? It’s where information asymmetry can be investigated and understood, giving one the proper tools to extend their understanding into the macro field and overall market theory. It is game theory that shows the budding economics student why this matters.

Virtual PC Rocks.

Caliban Darklock wrote this around lunchtime:

I missed playing Master of Orion. I dug around in my archived boxes of geeky stuff I’ve saved over the years, and I came up with the CD. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work for crap under XP… hmm, a 15 year old game that doesn’t work on XP. How unusual. But luckily, I have Microsoft Virtual PC 2007, which will let me run a whole DOS system in a virtualised environment… if I can just get DOS installed on it.

So I said to myself, “Self,” I said, “you have the install discs for damn near every operating system you’ve ever used - surely there’s a DOS install disk somewhere around here.” And sure enough, I came up with a PC-DOS 7.0 disc which was legitimately licensed. (I have OEM disks for MS-DOS 6.22, but they’re tied to the hardware that bundled them, and I’m certainly not using that.) Only trouble is, I need a floppy image to boot and load the CD driver. So I go out online and grab a DOS 6 boot disk image off someone’s web site, and it turns out to be an executable that wants to write itself to a physical floppy. I don’t have a floppy drive. What do you think I am? The only things I have that take floppies are a Mac SE and an EMAX-II sampler, and neither of those is going to be booting DOS. So I searched around some more and eventually found an IMG file for DOS 6 complete with CD-ROM drivers and a useful set of utilities.

It was pretty trivial to set up the virtual machine with a vintage-standard 32 megs of RAM and 2 GB hard disk - many programs at the time used signed integers to represent megabytes of RAM and megabytes of disk, so 64 megs of RAM frequently made things puke, as did 4 GB of disk. It was just as trivial to boot off the floppy image and get PC-DOS installed off the CD, which I ripped to an ISO for simplicity. Even ripping the MOO disc and mounting the ISO for the game install went without a hitch.

What wasn’t trivial was racking my brain to remember how to manage memory on DOS; I had to convert extended memory to expanded memory using EMM386, then load DOS in the HMA with UMB support so I could relocate the mouse and CD-ROM drivers into specific areas allocated in the EMM386 command line. MOO needs 575K of free conventional memory, and if you just throw everything up there you end up with about 540. After futzing around a little, I managed to get mem/c to show 604K free, which is about as good as it gets. I also needed to look up the stats on the SET BLASTER line so I could tell the game where the sound card was (port 220, IRQ 5, DMA 1).

After a few hours, most of it spent trying to remember the exact syntax for bizarre bits of system trivia, I managed to get a system together which happily booted PC-DOS and ran MOO. And now that I’m taking a break from the nostalgia of 320 by 200 graphics and truly stupid AI, I got to thinking about this and said to myself, “Self,” I said, “this is pretty damn cool.”

I mean, honestly - think about it. I downloaded Virtual PC free from Microsoft. So can you. I have so much computer on my desk, I can run another computer inside of it, and not only do so at a perfectly reasonable speed… but still have enough system left to run my usual applications. When I get a wild hare up my ass and want to play some game most people don’t even remember, the tools are at my fingertips and I can have it up and running the same day. The web has transformed everything. I don’t have to know someone who has a DOS boot floppy; I can just hit Windows Live Search, and it’s there. Once upon a time, it was a big deal to download a whole meg; now I have broadband. The world is different now. And while you might complain about the demise of social behavior and the new isolationism, to a geek like me, this is pretty damn cool.

You can keep your social behavior. I have Master of Orion.

Come to think of it, I have a whole bunch of other old DOS games, too…

Reviving the Ultimate Universe Project

Caliban Darklock wrote this in the wee hours:

After a long conversation with oceandude9, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m largely to blame for how UU never went anywhere. I haven’t tried hard enough. Early on in the process, I just threw money at it and expected paid developers to care because they were paid. That didn’t work. Then I tried to do it all myself, relying on the community to guide my efforts. That didn’t work. Then I just worked behind the scenes and tossed betas over the wall whenever they were ready. That didn’t work.

So we’re going to try something new. I’ve set up a forum over at ultimate-universe.com where the project can be discussed. I’ve offered oceandude9 a leadership role there, although he hasn’t yet responded. I’m about to email Garth and make a few proposals aimed at getting him the rest of his money, and hopefully getting him onto the forums to post a little. We’ll see how this pans out.

Ultimate Universe Source

Caliban Darklock wrote this mid-afternoon:

A commenter asks why I haven’t released the Ultimate Universe source, when no real progress has been made on the web site since 1999.

But progress has been made on the game. If you were on the mailing list, you saw a travel-only UU engine released in 2003, supporting thousands of dimensions and millions of sectors. But from my FTP site’s logs, I saw that virtually nobody downloaded it. From the discussion on that list, I saw that absolutely nobody provided any feedback on whether it worked and how well.

But what absolutely everybody wanted was for me to hand over the source code. Source code which I bought from Garth Bigelow and Tophersoft Engineering with my own money, before funding development to the tune of six figures and the brink of bankruptcy.

I said, what do you want to see in UU? They said, we want the source code. I said, how can UU stay fresh and competitive in the internet world? They said, it should be open source. I said, what would make UU easier for new players to learn? They said, the source code.

I don’t believe that’s about making UU better. I don’t believe it’s about giving UU to more people so they can play and enjoy it. I believe it’s about random losers wanting to strip Garth’s name off it and use search and replace to pretend they wrote a game. “No, it’s different! Look, it’s the Coalition instead of the Cabal!”

Yeah. Whatever. I don’t trust you people. I’ve tried to involve the community, and the community doesn’t share my vision. Development is now behind closed doors, but there is still development. It isn’t our main focus right now, but it is being done.

UU is brilliant, and was decades ahead of its time. I respect that, and I won’t have it degraded into a massively forked tree of eight hundred shitty variants that add nothing of any value to it. I am working on making UU into something that will make the industry sit up and take notice. Garth deserves that.

Where the Game Ends

Caliban Darklock wrote this in the early afternoon:

Shortly before the launch of SWG, I was the director of information for a guild-to-be called the Consortium. We had one major competitor, Avian Technology And Trade (AT-AT). For some reason, they had no “avian.*” domain, but a couple were available. So I registered them, and placed indexes on the domains that directed the visitor to Avian’s real web site, with smaller links below encouraging the visitor to come take a look at the Consortium before committing to Avian.

The public outcry was almost immediate and overwhelmingly negative; the objection to this behavior was not so much what I did, as what I could have done. (Conspiracy theories abounded.) The Consortium rapidly disavowed any official support for this activity, rewrote the guild officer assignments to put website responsibility in someone else’s hands, and (while they never formally ousted me) dropped me from all internal communications.

After a few unproductive talks with other guild owners, I decided maybe I didn’t really want to play SWG anyway - I certainly wasn’t going to hold a position of importance within any guild.

The objection I heard most often was that I could have lied at these web sites and pretended to be the Avian web site. The most plausible such plot was that I might put up a site based on Avian’s real site, saying that Avian had merged with the Consortium and to go join the Consortium instead.

It is important to note that initially, we erected a site which offered better benefits to members than Avian offered. Avian altered their benefits page to argue that they really had better benefits. We altered our page to include a rebuttal of that argument. This was all well and good - two people going back and forth, no biggie.

Except that Avian recruited a graphic artist and web designer, who began investing several hours a day into their site’s interface. Their site rapidly began to look like something produced by a strong and well-funded startup. Ours looked like something produced by some guy in his basement, because that’s what it was.

I’m not a web designer. I’m a web developer. We had a great back end. Front end… not so much. So I took a developer’s path to combat this problem: I hooked their front end. When I first wanted to look at their site, I tried to go to avian.com, then avian.net, and finally avian.org before hitting a search engine to find them. I figured most people would do the same, so since the .net and .org were available, I went and registered them. Approximate cost: $10. Then I invested half an hour in hooking them up.

Now, where I don’t understand the problem is that fundamentally I just made an effort to achieve in-game advantage using real-world skills that aren’t possessed by most people, aren’t easily acquired by most people, and take significant time and effort to acquire. This is the same thing I saw happening with Avian - their designer has skills I don’t have, can’t easily acquire, and don’t have the time to acquire anyway. But there is one major difference.

I spent money.

That’s really what made the difference: I spent $10 to register domains. Avian had a volunteer invest hundreds of hours in professional work that would normally cost $40-60 per hour, but they did not actually spend any money.

This is basically where the game ends. As soon as you can gain an advantage over other players through some mechanism they cannot exercise equally, you’re not playing anymore. You’re cheating.

Letter to Gamasutra

Caliban Darklock wrote this in the early morning:

On Gamasutra today, Alex St. John of WildTangent complains that Vista security is too difficult for casual game developers. I wrote this letter to the editors in response.

Excuse me?
Alex St. John specifically complains that it should be easier for children to download and install games without ESRB ratings, because they can already freely play non-downloaded web games without ratings, and now he can’t compete on the same playing field.

I don’t think many parents would appreciate that sentiment; the availability of games that we can’t control isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for not controlling the ones we can. The reality is that we, as parents, get to decide what our children download and install and play. If your business suffers as a result, maybe you’re in the wrong business to be targeting children.

When someone starts complaining about unfair competition, I believe the very least he can do is to compete. The industry and culture are changing. We have to change with them. That’s the only choice we have. 

Amusingly, I work with Vista at Microsoft, and I’ve got a resume in for consideration at WildTangent. Call it serendipity.

ESRB Ratings

Caliban Darklock wrote this mid-afternoon:

In film ratings, we had a problem with PG, R, and X much like the current “Hot Coffee”-inspired ratings controversy.

PG was covering too much ground. The PG-rated “Gremlins” included a scene where Phoebe Cates’ character explained in grim detail how she discovered there was no Santa Claus. Many parents were upset about it, having taken children far too young to hear this into the movie.

R was not covering enough ground. The R rating couldn’t include sufficiently explicit sexual content for modern sensibilities without running the risk of an X rating, which would immediately disqualify your film from being shown in major theatre chains. (Consider this: how often do you see a penis at the theatre? Have you ever seen an ERECT penis outside of the pornography industry? And yet, we’ve seen Angelina Jolie do some awfully erotic things on screen - and I’d need both hands to count the number of times I’ve seen Winona Ryder deflowered.)

The response of the film industry was to create the PG-13 and NC-17 ratings, which expanded the resolution of the system.  

It seems to me that in the ESRB system, a PG-13 style rating between T and M is likely to be useful (perhaps “OT” for “Older Teen”), just as an NC-17 style rating between M and AO is likely to be useful (perhaps “A” for “Adult”). Perhaps the M rating simply needs to be split, so we can identify pre- and post-change games: OT and A could simply fill the gap left by elimination of the M rating.

Of course, somehow, the NC-17 rating inherited the stigma of the X rating anyway and made it just as useless. So now we have proposals on the table to add another rating between R and NC-17. Maybe we need to do something altogether different.