jamsponge-blog
124 posts
I am a videogames guy/ board games guy/ stupid guy Mostly on YouTube, here.
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Hello! This is a raw-text paste of the huge amount of thoughts I provided for the recent interview with The Guardian - it was written by Simon Parkin, who is superb - so I really recommend you go and read that first. https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/sep/08/youtube-stars-burnout-fun-bleak-stressed (This is all copy-pasted via my phone, and I haven't edited it as I would an article - it may be full of errors and it's definitely formatted quite badly. Ta!) *** I first properly got into YouTube after taking a job to head up a channel for a video game website, after working as a print journalist for a couple of years. Now I do my own thing and run a couple of channels, which collectively have just over 150,000 subscribers. It's pretty much a full-time job for me, and has been for just over 5 years. YouTube has been incredible in terms of creating opportunities - with low budget equipment and software I was able to create work that could easily reach thousands of people. Five or six years ago it felt very freeing - a system that allowed quality to naturally find audiences without having to go through gatekeepers. The sheer scale of the numbers you're looking at are the main thing - a handful of written pieces I've worked on have been read by more than a million people, but when videos go viral it's something quite different: one of my earliest, biggest hits was watched 5 million times in just a few days. I'm admittedly wary of that level of success now, and actively try to avoid "going viral" - but the brief explosion of mild internet fame I achieved in 2013 has allowed me some unbelievable freedoms: a small handful of that audience has kindly followed everything else I've done since, and I've managed to shift my YouTube career into something that feels sustainable - both financially and mentally. The channel I worked for blew up pretty quickly - after a handful of viral hits, I kept plugging at creating new regular content. YouTube is very strange in that it's not enough to simply create great things - most audiences expect consistency and frequency. If you're a channel looking to grow, this means both playing to the gallery of the followers you've got as well as pleasing the whims of "the algorithm". As a platform funded by advertising - of which Google take a healthy cut - YouTube's algorithms promote the videos that best suit the needs of those adverts. Because of that, real success on YouTube requires creators to jump through a series of constantly changing hoops: changing the upload frequency and duration of their videos to better align with the current criteria, in the hopes of seeing their work being fed more frequently to users who haven't seen their work before - or even, grimly, having their work being seen more frequently by those who already subscribe to their channels. I find the idea of chasing algorithms a frankly miserable starting point for creative work, however, so whilst I'm acutely aware of how to achieve success on YouTube the process that leads to it seems depressingly dull. There's a bleakly cybernetic tone to it all - sci-fi has mostly presumed that transhumanism would see technology being integrated into humans, but the zeal with which people aim to please algorithms suggests we're going to save a fortune on futuristic surgeries. What we're seeing a lot of these days is people using services like Patreon to get around the requirements of YouTube's algorithms, allowing people to make a living without having to achieve huge amounts of video views. Over the past few years it became a lot tougher for a lot of people to make a living from advertising on YouTube - mainly because the automated algorithms were whacking adverts on fairly inappropriate stuff - it was a Wild West situation, and every gold rush eventually ends. A lot of people have moved over to Twitch, where it's currently much easier to make a bunch of money - but the person costs involved are not insubstantial: there's a real difference between uploading videos and putting yourself out there, live, every day. I think if you're someone who really cares about putting on a good performance, these platforms end up being vampiric - always asking you for just a bit more until you've nothing left to give. For people who really care about their work, it's absolutely an unhealthy ecosystem. The sense that you should always be working is an absolute killer. YouTube very much has its own culture: people talk a lot about the community they have on *their* channel, but in truth YouTube itself *is* the community, and the tone and expectations of that wider community are far from ideal, to say the least. Knowing that working more could earn you more money is a standard freelancer anxiety, but with YouTube it's more the fear that if you take a break you might lose it all. Riding on the wave of success requires consistency, and with a fresh supply of wannabe stars toiling to find an audience on these platforms it's incredibly easy to slip off the radar - to lose favour with the algorithms that gave you your wings. I worry a lot about the health of many young people trying to find success on these platforms today - a nasty side-effect of algorithm-led content creation is that creators themselves are largely disposable: churn until you burn out, get replaced by three people doing the exact same thing. A crucial truth about internet culture that we've yet to fully appreciate, I think, is that human brains really aren't designed to be interacting with hundreds of people every day. When you've got thousands of people giving you direct feedback on your work, you really get the sense that something in your mind somewhere just snaps - we just aren't built to handle empathy and sympathy on scales of that level. Critical feedback is essential for growth - but it also takes time to properly absorb it. When you've got new strangers every day launching into a fresh intervention, your capacity for reflection goes right in the bin. "You aren't making enough videos". "You're wrong." "You used to be funnier." "You've let me down." These comments only represent a tiny fraction of your audience - most of whom will hopefully be positive and supportive - but the human brain is rubbish at numbers: you don't see ten negative bits of feedback as a fraction, you envision ten people you've really disappointed. When this becomes a regular occurrence - and you're already ploughing ahead making the next thing - you don't have the time or capacity to work towards any legitimate sense of closure, so you either get upset or angry and dismissive. A thing I've experienced that seems to be common is the way that your brain gets so used to these negative comments that it starts to automatically invent them while you're working - I suspect it's a kind of self-defence mechanism, helping you to catch potentially contentious aspects of your work, or things that might easily be misinterpreted. I definitely think this process does help with minimising negative feedback in the actual work, but if it means you're still living through the experience of that negativity - despite it being fictional - is that actually any better? One of the great things about supporting my work through Patreon is it allows me to work at a pace that actually provides room for reflection: I currently make one Cool Ghosts video once every two or three months: it's a broadcast-quality show that's deeply strange, and we take as long as we need to create it. It's the best work I've ever done, but I still feel the constant guilt that I'm not doing enough - I'm not working hard enough. Patreon allows people to work without the worry of getting enough views to make money from adverts, but unfortunately just creates a new strain of stress: You look at how much money you're earning every month, and worry that you aren't doing enough work to justify that figure. But the harder you work, the more that figure is likely to increase - so it's an impossible carrot-on-a-stick situation. Even when you're working as hard as you can, it's so easy to feel like you should be doing more. The first time I really experienced burnout was at the end of 2013. I'd taken a YouTube channel from 1,000 subscribers to 90,000 in just under a year, and my work had caught the attention of Charlie Brooker - leading to an incredible opportunity to work on a one-off show about video games. Trying to juggle that alongside my main YouTube job had me working 18-20 hour days for about 3 weeks, after which point I felt exhausted and frazzled in a way that weirdly seemed totally impervious to rest. Looking back now, I'd clearly been burning out for months prior to that: I looked pale, gaunt - my work had become increasingly rushed, increasingly acerbic in tone. Worryingly, this didn't affect my popularity - one of the most toxic things I've discovered about making content online is that the points at which you're breaking down, being slowly consumed by frustration, are the points at which the algorithms love you the most. "Divisive" content is the king of online media in 2018, and YouTube heavily boosts all content that causes people to get riled up. Explaining why you hate stuff gets you 10 times as much traffic as explaining why you love something - but it also means that the commentary you're dealing with is consistently angry. I don't think it's possible to exist in that space without the stress from that negativity bleeding back into your work: Anger is like a virus - it's fantastic for keeping audiences engaged, but it also motivates creators to better serve the algorithm: working and uploading in a rash, rapid fashion. It's why you see YouTube politically so dominated by right-wing creators - introspection, balance, empathy and care are all values diametrically opposed the platform's core values of More and Now. I think it's possible for creators to be maintained by that anger - nourished by the stuff - for months, years, possibly indefinitely. You see that so much on YouTube these days - people who've slipped into a deeply unhealthy place, keeping it together on a weekly basis by channelling that anger into exponential success. It's like one of those coins spinning around those circular charity things - escalating in a loop as they gently slide towards the void. Burnout happens at the point at which you pause, and I think that anger effectively allows people to maintain velocity for quite a long time. Over the past few years burnout has been more frequent and more serious - my wife was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in 2014, and since then I've been mentally wobbly in a way which is frequently incompatible with living on the internet. Still though, I think I was burning out perfectly well without that - I spent my twenties working ceaselessly, feeling invincible and boundless. And honestly, I was. Right up until the point where I wasn't. I really worry about young people devoting their lives to platforms like YouTube and Twitch - because when you're young? You absolutely can. You've got the energy and focus to work incredibly long hours, you've got very few responsibilities to take your attention away from work, and - perhaps most importantly - you've likely still got a solid social circle, friendships that aren't difficult to maintain. The reality changes sharply when you get a bit older: your energy levels start to flake out, the stress you've put yourself under has started to damage you physically - my thyroid stopped working properly in 2016, and I've developed frequent patches of anxiety and depression. What starts out as being the most fun job imaginable - getting paid to sit and play videogames all day - can slide into something that feels deeply bleak and lonely: sitting alone for hours playing games and making videos is understandably aspirational when you're a teenager, but as an adult it's a cocktail for disastrous mental health. Suddenly in your thirties everyone gets busy - commitments make friendships harder, and the perception of success & having a "dream job" can slightly poison the way that friends treat you - leaving you understandably uneasy about complaining about your situation. It's this social aspect that leads to some of the biggest issues we're seeing with YouTube: if your life becomes so defined by the platform that you don't really have the time for a life outside of it, it's easy to double down on the relationship you have with your audience. This idea of being friends with your fans is inherently unbalanced, and a phenomenal source of power that many take advantage of with incredible cynicism. Perhaps worse than this, though, is the side-effect of creators having largely grown up being socialised within a constant feedback loop: the things you say and do on your channel define the behaviours of your community, but the behaviour of your community also defines your ideas of what is and isn't OK. It's unsurprising to see people who've spent most of their adult lives working on YouTube having automatically hoovered up some awful characteristics and worldviews from the platforms they exist on - it's a factory line that predictably churns out half-baked, bigoted variations of Peter Pan. I'm still trying to learn how to switch off, even now when I've fully escaped the churn. I think once you've immersed yourself fully into the Content-Creation mindset, it becomes pretty hardwired into your head. I'm mainly thankful though that I approached it as an adult - I think that without the wider perspective of previous work, I maybe wouldn't have realised how toxic it was. I think it's definitely possible to be successful without it taking over your life, providing you know what success looks like. If you're brilliant at what you do and you do something unusual, eventually you'll find an audience. If you stay true to what you love and remain honest with the people who love what you do, it's entirely possible to make a decent living without devoting your entire life to this stuff - if you care about your long-term happiness rather than just a short-term boost of cash, I honestly think it's the only real option. I've never had any formal relationship with YouTube itself, but I've never been impressed by the advice it gives creators. Emphasis is always firmly placed on growth - how to boost the size of your audience, how to get the most out of promotion, how best to "engage" with your community. I've always felt deeply uneasy about the way these things sit side by side: spend extra time making your fans feel loved - it's very an effective way of boosting your income. Patreon in many ways has only amplified that, with one popular company going so far as to label those who pay them monthly as their "best friends". It's incredibly cynical behaviour, but even when genuine it doesn't feel healthy - for many creators it seems from afar that their community has effectively become their main support network - that's an awful lot of eggs to put in one basket. We've seen cursory mental health advice popping up on the platform over the last year or so, but it feels far from sincere: encouraging creators to "take a break!" is pretty laughable when coming from the mouth of a system that actively promotes quantity over quality. There's no sense of responsibility for the culture that they've created - no good advice for dealing with the pitfalls that most people will have to deal with. Steady growth is great, for example, but what happens when growth explodes? When something goes viral? On paper that situation is 100% great, but in reality you're suddenly dealing with a vast, new audience - perhaps an audience that differs in tone to the one you're used to. What happens if the size of this new audience actively swamps the community you had before, leaving you suddenly creating videos for an audience you don't necessarily even like? Fame is the toxic by-product of success, and these platforms allow people to achieve fame quite suddenly - the realities of that are a double-edged sword. I think it's important that young people know it's OK to be unhappy whilst also a success: YouTube stars are always loved best when endlessly thankful for how lucky they are, but the harsh truth is that working on YouTube is just another form of job - you're allowed to decide that you actually don't like it, even if everyone you know keeps telling you that you've got the greatest job in the world. If you're not having a great time doing it, there's literally no point in doing it at all - don't let the demands of the audiences of algorithms steer your life into a position where it's no longer fun. It's important to be wary of rapid growth: if 50,000 people suddenly turn up on your YouTube channel, the obvious reaction is to be thankful and thrilled. If 50,000 people turned up outside your house? You'd probably hold off on opening the champagne until you'd worked out why. Finally, recognise that if you become mildly famous - your relationships with those around you will change. Don't let your desire for internet success get in the way of real-life relationships: the impossible-sounding truth about growing older is that it's remarkably easy to go from having loads of friends to realising you've actually only got 4. Being lonely and successful is a terrible combination, and one that seems to creep up on a lot of people without much warning.
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Do me a favour.
So this was a thing I wrote to friends on Facebook, asking them to read this link: http://www.cbsnews.com/news/steve-bannon-and-the-alt-right-a-primer/
Thought I’d share it more widely, because why not.
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Actual, rare heart-felt post here - please do read & share if you'd like.
This article details a group of people who over the last few years have occasionally made my life very unpleasant on account of the fact that I openly believe that women are deserving of equal respect.
Until this week wouldn't expect you to know about this, or know about these people, or actively really care. But that was before they unexpectedly came to hold a position of great power within the White House.
Now more than ever, you need to know who these people are, you need to know what these people represent, and you need to be wary that those around you don't fall into the trap of believing in this dangerous rhetoric.
Today I spent an entire hour talking to a total stranger in London who had heard me talking about politics with a friend and wanted to know what I was discussing. He wasn't a bad person, or a rude person, or even a stupid person - but he was both a fan of Breitbart and one of the most dangerously misinformed people I have ever met.
He was angry about a number of issues, and had simple and entirely fair reasons for being angry. Unfortunately for him, me, and frankly *all of us* every single piece of information he cited was provably untrue.
He was also quite fond of RT (previously known better as Russia Today) a state-media outlet based in a state in which the government have been known to assassinate journalists.
As a side note it's also worth noting that popular character 'Jonathan Pie' was commissioned and funded by RT until very recently - half as a heads up that the man behind Captain Brave 'n' Loud Opinions isn't exactly a beacon of moral strength, but mainly to just bear in mind that sites like these are actively aiming to court the support and love of Westerners - and for very, very specific reasons.
We've heard a lot over the last 12 months that we live in an era of "post truth", and you may have heard about the problems with Facebook and "fake news" - but I'd argue we've already a decent word that covers both of these factors neatly.
Propaganda. This is what these sites peddle, and gosh - *it is working*. The only defence we have is the truth, so I'm asking you as friends here to do me a favour: read up, know what Breitbart truly represents, and if you find that you've friends who are reading this stuff then take it *just as seriously* as you would if you found out they were being groomed by extremists.
Because basically? They are.
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HOW TO REVISE

Listen, exams are absolute dicks. I haven’t done one for a long time, and I hope I never have to do one again. They rely on you being able to remember and regurgitate loads of facts, which some people find easy while others really don’t. I’ve always been awful at remembering details, which meant I was absolutely awful at exams up until the point I learned how to revise. Every year I see people on my Twitter feed stressing out about doing just that, so here’s how to game the system and make your brain do the stuff it doesn't want to.
LOOK AT THE PAST PAPERS.
Teachers tell you this explicitly again and again: Look at the past exam papers. What they don’t tell you is why you should do this. It isn't so you can sit at home and do bonus mock-exams for a jolly, it’s because they’re trying to show you something unbelievably obvious that they’d probably get in trouble for if they explicitly just told you: Exam questions are almost always the same.
Go back through the last five or six years and identify the topics that almost always pop up. Mostly it won’t even just be topics that end up being recycled - many exams will pose the same questions almost every year with slightly different wording. If your exams allow you to choose between a selection of essay topics, you are now officially laughing - just do the numbers across the papers of the past and work out which topics are likely to appear. Revising everything is a mug’s game - before you open a book you should work out exactly how many things you actually need to know.
There’s an element of risk here, so always learn a bit more than you need to - but focussing on nailing the topics most likely to crop up will almost always pay off.
DON’T WRITE DOWN ANYTHING YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.
If you don’t know what it means, don’t write it down. Google it, work out what it means, then write it down. Otherwise your memory will probably shaft you.
WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN THREE TIMES, COMPRESSING WITH EACH NEW VERSION
Reading is OK for comprehension, but tends to be weak for memorisation. Writing things down helps a lot, but ideally you’ll want to compress this information down to an incredibly simplified form.
STEP 1: Write down everything you need to know in a scrappy almost essay-like form, putting prominence on key words, phrases, dates, etc.
STEP 2: Write an abbreviated version of the same thing, but chunk stuff together in circles or boxes - adding arrows that connect different events or ideas, and compressing the information into something that occasionally resembles a messy diagram, with key words being used prominently as titles, etc.
STEP 3: Full-on diagram mode. Condense each topic down into a one-page spider diagram, using just a few key words for every topic. The key thing here is how they all connect - you want the information to be mapped in a way that makes sense in terms of the order you’d likely want to talk about the overall topic.
MEMORIZE THESE MAPS
Well done, you've just made a map. Sharpen it up, simplify it, and keep drawing it out onto an A4 sheet of paper until you've memorised these simple diagrams. Add flair to help give these maps more character - go with whatever madness makes sense, it will help you recall them with far more ease. The human brain is rubbish at recalling facts out of one massive bucket, but visual structures like this work wonders. Each node of your map will be the key words, names and dates that you need to remember - and that’s all you need. Everything else you can fudge on the go.
CHILL OUT
If you’ve done all of the above, then chill out - you’ve got this. While everyone else in the queue for the exam hall is losing their shit while clutching a mass of hand-written notes, you’ll be holding - at most - a few sheets of paper with simple well-honed information maps. All you need to do is remember them for long enough to replicate them when you get into the hall - just look at the questions, work out which maps you need, and then draw them out onto a couple of sheets of extra paper. Everyone else will be frantically writing answers, but forget about them - get the information you need you need clearly in front of you, and then start answering the questions. That way, you won’t forget anything - you just check the map to see what comes next. Easy.
THAT’S IT.
Condensing complex information down into simple annotated diagrams is hard work, certainly - but it’s easier than trying to remember pages and pages of underlined text. The other advantage here is that you actually have an end-game. Revision can often feel like an endless and impossible slog, but once you've boiled a topic down into a simple map of connected topics - and memorised that map - your revision for that topic is pretty much done. Go and have a Twix, you’ve earned it.
Anyway, this took me too long to learn - get into the habit early and your academic life will be dramatically easier. Unless you’re studying physics or maths or something, in which case I HAVE NO IDEA.
GOOD LUCK. x
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"We want to talk about improving games journalism."

Ok sure - well what specifically do you think is the problem?
"Too much corruption, not enough transparency, media keep trying to silence our complaints."
Oof, that's a tricky one. I mean you're sort of suggesting a number of things there, first of all that corruption has been proven to be a major problem - which is difficult, because it hasn't. So I mean really you're asking me to offer up a tangible solution to a widespread problem that - as far as I'm aware - doesn't actually exist. As you can imagine, that's a bit of a tough one.
I mean obviously the past few weeks have highlighted certain situations in which corruption potentially could have happened, but jumping to that conclusion without explicit evidence is like suggesting that anyone who's ever worked a cash register is a thief.
"Well you need to be more transparent, then."
I mean, do we? This comes down to two factors: How many people are actually interested in this stuff, and at what point does the line get drawn? Do I need to start keeping a little black book about everyone I've ever had a brief chat with? In an industry this tiny you end up bumping into everyone - and yes, that means having a drink with that developer you quite like, but it also means having to politely shake hands with a snooty exec that genuinely still wants you eviscerated for the time you gave his game a 6/10.
Watching people whip up spider diagrams that prove most people in games know each other was a genuinely insane waste of time - you could have just asked any of us whether or not that was true, and any one of us would have happily told you. Frankly I've been a bit unimpressed at how much detail these diagrams lack - everybody knows everybody. To suggest that means cronyism is very naive, mind - not everyone in the industry likes each other, they just hide that relatively well out of a sense of professionalism. It's not something I'm personally very good at, because I'm a feisty prick who should really know better.
But the core of this call for transparency comes back to an absolute lack of trust. Yes, we all know each other. Yes, most of us have shared a drink with countless developers over the years. If you don't trust us not to let that influence our work, then no form of transparency is going to change that - we'd simply be providing you with citations to help prove this invented corruption. If you don't trust a writer or a publication, don't waste your time reading their stuff.
All sorts of hard work goes on behind the scenes to ensure stuff remains above-board and ethical. I mean, look on Twitter or poke your head into a pub and ethics is practically the only thing that games journalists ever seem to bloody talk about, to the point where it's almost downright tedious.
Perhaps constantly broadcasting this group-think neurosis has been partly to blame for the current belief that ethical problem musts exist. If that's the case it's brutally ironic - this desire to champion squeaky-clean practices only exists because most games media desperately want to rekindle the trust that was unfairly snatched away wholesale because of the actions of an unscrupulous few. If you think you're still furious about the Gamespot Kane and Lynch stuff, you've no idea how professionals feel. To see your entire profession tarred so absolutely with the same brush as a bunch of exec pricks you'll never even meet is properly heart-rending.
"Well if all that's true then why are the media trying to silence our complaints?"
It's difficult to answer this question without tweaking it a little bit, as it sort of comes packaged with the inherent suggestion that the games media is some sort of Borg-like entity that's secretly in cahoots.
"I do think that's true though."
Well there's definitely a tendency for people to react in the same way when put under the same pressures, and sure - you will get a visible sense of unity when a group of people are being attacked in ways that don't seem entirely fair. So I can see that sometimes it might appear like there's some form of formal collaboration going on behind the scenes - with different sites from around the world working towards the same planned agendas - but obviously it's more likely to suggest that any appearances of direct collaboration are more the result of like-minded people reacting to the same stimulus in very similar ways.
"No I do believe that the games media are working together to silence us."
Oh, right. Well that's tricky. You're sort of working from a frame of reference that's so vastly different to the reality that I know exists that I'm not really sure how we can go about having a meaningful conversation. It's like we're trying to work together on a map of the earth, but one of us believes the world is flat and the other one believes the world is a triangle, you know?
The only way I could talk about how to improve games journalism with you would be to force my brain to entirely reject things I know to be true in favour of things you believe to be true. And I can't prove that what you believe isn't true, because it's impossible to provide evidence that disproves evidence that as far as I can tell doesn't actually exist.
Gosh, sorry- this has become awfully complicated. I guess the short version is that there's no point in us having this conversation - I'm unable to integrate your perspective into the version of reality I know to be true, and you seem unwilling to consider the proposition that the conspiracies you believe in might not be real. So yeah, I'm off to do something else. Sorry.
"Typical! Completely unwilling to talk to us about fixing our legitimate complaints..."
(Hopefully this serves both as a FAQ for people genuinely asking me these questions, and also as a partial explanation - although not a justification - as to why many media have reacted to these criticisms with derision. It's tough to remain rational when surrounded with madness.)
Edit: I understand that people remain very angry at what they see as journalists lashing out at the community in general, and whilst I won't try and justify that (or even entirely accept that this isn't even true) I'd like to ask you to consider this: When the community you've worked so hard to serve choose to stand beside a group of manipulative misogynists rather than entertain the idea that you might not actually be corrupt, how do you think this makes people feel?
So much of this argument boils down to a misunderstanding - the games media aren't calling you misogynists. They don't think you hate women. But you've decided that your distrust of the media is so strong that you'd rather side with dangerous bigots than believe that the media might not be corrupt, that's a hell of a statement to be making.
There's a lot of talk about gamers being disrespected right now, but honestly - take a step back and think about how that might actually feel. Here's a clue: it feels fucking awful. I'm doing my best to continue to talk about this stuff without getting too emotional and angry, but trust me - it remains a constant struggle.
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Why the games press won't talk about ethical corruption

As an ex-journo turned internet-monkey, I’ve spent the last week carefully toying with the idea of producing a video about the belief that the traditional games media is ethically compromised and/or corrupt.
After much consideration, I’ve decided that this would be a massive waste of time for one simple reason: It isn’t a rational belief. I gave up arguing against irrational viewpoints when I realised that repeatedly spending entire evenings arguing about religion with strangers wasn’t a good use of the £5 it cost to get into most student nightclubs. It really doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong - no change will occur as a result of the conversation.
A large part of the problem is the misuse of language, with many who use logic and rationale as their banner having twisted the scientific basis of these words completely out of shape - adding a powerful new variable to the deduction process that entirely fucks everything up: Intellect.
It takes a genuinely outstanding level of arrogance to believe that your personal (or even crowd-sourced) intelligence can make up the rest of the gaps in any theory. This isn’t restricted to gaming, of course - the study of Psychology largely boils down to learning to quickly identify when wanker academics are using big words to cover up the fact that their claims of correlation are entirely based on half-baked theories.
Games industry conspiracy theorists take things to the next level, stepping up from correlation (the claim that two variables are somehow related) to full-blown causation (the claim that one variable is directly influencing another). These leaps are made without any actual evidence, using bastardised ‘logic’ to plug any gaps. It’s a risky system that entirely relies on the person involved being Sherlock-fucking-Holmes.
In the same way that duff psychologists make leaps because they want to reinforce specific theories they already believe to be true, accusations of corruption or ethical wrongdoing gloss over genuinely whopping gaps to further reinforce the strength of a theory that simply hasn’t been proved.
I bring up the parallel between forum threads and academia to point out that this isn’t about specifically pointing the finger at teenage boys or hardcore gamers - it’s a shitty pseudo-scientific practice used by shitty people in all walks of life.
Packaging arguably unrelated pieces of information together and presenting them as being linked without concrete proof is entirely irrational behaviour, which makes the process of arguing against it a bloody big waste of time for everyone involved. That’s the main reason that a huge number of the gaming press openly refuse to engage in the conversation.
Of course it does remain entirely possible that the real reason they don’t want to debate this issue is because they’re trying to silence the issue as part of some ongoing conspiracy, but again - if we’re sticking to the traditional use of the word, this argument isn’t rational - which makes arguing against it a big waste of time. Until any form of actual concrete evidence is presented, we might as well argue about the existence of ghosts.
This might sound flippant or dismissive, but you have to understand that it categorically isn’t. Theories based on unproven assumptions are almost always a lot of fun, but you can’t bring a theoretical knife to a knife fight.
Over the past decade we’ve seen a couple of examples of times when editorial values have been compromised - with both examples having large repercussions for the industry. Gamespot’s Jeffy G fiasco tore the site’s reputation to shreds, while reasonable questions posed about the freebie culture following a promotion at the GMAs saw the vast majority of professional media outlets cracking down further on a phenomenon that was largely already handled reasonably well. If this isn’t true on the websites you visit, it’s time to start visiting websites that aren’t shit.
Every time I’ve seen reasonable criticisms made I’ve also seen a shift in the way press operate, and yet I’ve never seen any kind of reduction in the deeply-held belief that games media are inherently ethically corrupt. Unfortunately this leads to only one conclusion - there is nothing that can be done to change this.
Which leads us back to the ultimate question: with so little evidence proving it to be true and attempts at reparations so quickly dismissed, why do so many people fervently believe that the traditional games media cannot be trusted? Why do people who often align themselves with the importance of rational thought and unbiased opinions hold so much faith in a belief that is - on paper - undeniably irrational?
I don’t really have an answer for that, but I’d argue it’s likely a swirl of factors whipped up into an anger-meringue by an outside third-party that I now represent. People don’t like traditional games media for a wide variety of reasons. They feel like the biggest gaming websites only represent mass-media bollocks. They feel like their hobby is changing in ways that isn’t aligned with the elements they love. They feel like games media don’t talk about games in a way that personally speaks to them.
All of these points are entirely reasonably things to be unhappy about, but they don’t represent a systematic problem. The belief that the root of these problems is caused by some sort of systematic injustice, however, is undeniably intoxicating. It allows us to fabricate a tangible solution to an impossible problem: creating the illusion that if we fight hard enough we can force the world to change to suit our personal needs.
As with all the best illusions, it’s one that can’t be broken - no manner of action or shows of goodwill will erode this belief, as the endgame criteria remains impossible. Short of every traditional media outlet entirely shutting down, arguments will still remain that the truth has simply been buried deeper - the same shadowy agendas are still running the show.
Notably over the past week I've seen every attempt to openly refute unwarranted claims with actual facts quickly countered with newly fabricated unwarranted claims. The content within these conversation simply doesn't matter - if it did then the vast majority of these claims would have since been dropped. Information which damages the stability of a well-established illusion cannot be accepted as truth at any cost, which is why we've still got climate change deniers and people who think dinosaurs are just a big lol from God.
It all boils down to dissatisfaction, which is where the meringue comes into play. Look back at the history of any regime change and you’ll observe clear patterns, but step one is almost always the same: discredit your predecessors. The way many YouTubers have used this tactic has been absolutely reasonable, and the rise in their popularity is inarguably linked to traditional media’s failure to provide a changing audience with what they want.
But that hasn’t the only front of the battle, and blows from both sides haven’t always been above the belt. While arguably sparked from the disdain and jealousy that many games journalists feel towards YouTubers at large, many YouTubers have harnessed this culture of dissatisfaction and distrust as a springboard for personal success. Working as underdogs this made sense, but now I just feel like I’m watching big dogs kicking dying dogs to death.
But again, this isn’t a conspiracy - it’s just an unjust side-effect of the way things have panned out over the past ten years; a butterfly effect of individual agendas swooping back later to cause a storm. Context has shifted dramatically: For those who’ve managed the ascent into internet stardom, “Games media are corrupt” has gone from being an effective way of building a fanbase to being a largely well-respected viewpoint, legitimised by nothing more than a larger audience that believe it to be true. No more facts, no more proof, just a considerably bigger church.
It all comes back to community, and the idea that thousands of people can’t possibly be wrong. When of course if there’s anything that history has shown us, that’s one of the only things that thousands of people have consistently been.
So yeah, we could debate about the blatant ethical corruption that’s rife within gaming media, but to be honest I’d rather debate about ghosts. Either way I’ll probably be wasting my time, but at least I get to run around with a sheet on my head shouting “WOOOOOOO.”
BYE!
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Where am I going? Nowhere!
As promised this is just a quick update to let you know where you'll be able to find my gaming & comedy videos from now on. Originally it seemed like I'd be doing freelance for a whole bunch of sites, but I realised that the work I'd end up doing would be far more formulaic, less interesting, and in some cases heavily sponsored.
But now - to be blunt - that shit ain't happening. Within 24 hours of launching a Patreon page to try and fund my work in a way that didn't involve adverts, sponsors, or any form of compromise - I achieved the basic funding I needed to start doing my own thing.
If you want to know more about why & how this is all happening (or feel like chucking a couple of quid into the ongoing Matt Lees bucket) check out www.patreon.com/mattlees
But for those of you who couldn't give a piss about specifics, all you need to know is this: You'll find all the good stuff without any of the guff at www.youtube.com/user/MattLees
Cheers to those of you who've followed my work this far, and OMNI-CHEERS to those of you who've helped make this happen. It is going to be awesome.
BYE!
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WHERE ARE YOU GOING, DICKHEAD?

Hello there!
Following on from last month's announcement that I was leaving VideoGamer, I've had tons of people asking me a handful of very specific questions - some of which I was unable to answer at the time. For the sake of ease I thought I'd put together a cheeky little Q&A - if you've got another question you'd like to see answered, let me know and I'll do my best to add it to this post. Cheers for continuing to follow my work, you're really rather lovely.
ARE YOU ALRIGHT?
I'm fine, thanks! I should clarify that the reason I'm leaving VideoGamer is because I could see myself burning out if I didn't do so. Lots of people seemed concerned - which is very kind - but this decision was proactive rather than reactive, dealing with the issue before the problem became real.
WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
This one is still a bit up in the air - I've signed a contract with The Escapist to do a weekly video series starting in March that will run for just over three months. It's a project I'm really excited about - partly because it isn't gaming related. I won't say any more at this stage for fear of spoiling the surprise, but if you're a fan of my comedy stuff I think you're going to love it.
As mentioned in my previous post, I'll also be giving a regular portion of my time to work with the excellent Shut Up & Sit Down, producing more video content with them and continuing to juggle the insane logistics of our subscriber 'Gold Club' bags.
AREN'T YOU DOING VIDEOGAME STUFF?!
Of course I am, gorgeous! I'm aware that I don't have infinite amounts of time, and freelance video production is a strange and fickle thing to sort out. I'm keen not to piss anybody off by agreeing to too many regular commitments and then having to cancel some of that stuff, so I'm taking things slowly and looking at options. I'll definitely be doing a weekly show of some sort at a gaming website - it's just a case of nailing down what, and where.
BUT WHERE DO I GO NOW, YOU BASTARD?
I'm glad you asked! I'm really keen to get back into the habit of making videos for the sake of fun, which is why I'll be doing my best to stream stuff on Twitch and upload stuff to YouTube whenever I have the inclination and time. I've weighed up the idea of going balls-out and seriously trying to launch my own YouTube channel as a buz-nuzz-thung, but I've got fairly major concerns about the viability of the platform as a way of making money. BUT: That's another story for another time. (YT channel currently contains ancient comedy vids, cooking, projects for friends, and nondescript bollocks. New stuff will come soon.)
Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/thejamsponge
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/mattlees
IS THAT YOU IN THAT TV ADVERT ABOUT CEREAL?
No.
WILL YOU STILL BE ON THE VIDEOGAMER PODCAST?
Sadly, this isn't how employment works. I won't be involved with any VideoGamer stuff from now on, and cameo appearances are highly unlikely due to the fact that they're based in Croydon - a location I am thoroughly looking forward to never visiting ever again.
But hey, did you know that I already do another podcast? Regular Features recently hit 75 episodes, including two live London shows in the last year. It isn't about videogames and I'm not the funniest person in it by quite a margin, but it's filthy, ridiculous, and I'm incredibly proud to be a part of it.
BUT I WANT A GAMES PODCAST, MATT.
You'll have one. One of the first things I aim to get rolling in the next month is a brand new regular gaming podcast, pulling favours from the best UK games industry people I know to act as a regular pool of guests. The specifics of this are still being worked out, but a podcast is top of the list of priorities.
ARE YOU DYING?
I'm not dying.
WHAT ABOUT PANTS MAN!??
Good news! I've talked with the lovely chaps at VideoGamer and they're happy for me to carry the mantle of pants. Pants Man 2: Pants Harder will be sorely missing Mr. Bratt, but I'll be continuing the saga on a solo basis when the game launches in March. On my BIRTHDAY. I'm going to eat cake. You can't stop me.
DOES THIS MEAN THE END OF THE ABRIDGED VIDEOS?
Whilst arguably I should be paying Adam Buxton royalties, I don't think anyone owns the rights to my voice. I can't promise you'll see the exact same format with the exact same name, but the spirit of the Abridged series will continue.
Having said that, so will comedy videos at VideoGamer - Chris and Simon already prove a brilliant combo, and I'm excited about finding out who they plan to hire to replace me. Whoever it is, please be nice. It wasn't so long ago I was the new guy, and the welcome I received from the VideoGamer community wasn't exactly warm. Do me a favour, and ensure this isn't repeated. Finding your feet in a role takes time, and it's harder if people keep pissing in your shoes.
That's it for now, and once again - thank you. Without the enthusiasm and support of people who love the work I do, the idea of taking a leap like this would have been nothing short of insanity. I feel confident that everything will be just fine, and I owe that almost exclusively to you.
I did a bit of the work too, mind. Fuck off - you're not taking all of the credit. x
BONUS QUESTIONS:
GDC? E3? PAX?
I'd ruddy love to go to GDC, but can't justify the cost at a point at which I don't have any steady income on the go. E3 last year was like being in hell, but that may have been partially down to the motel. There's a chance I might still go for the right reasons/offer, but I have no plans to attend out of my own pocket. PAX is a tough one - I love the atmosphere of the crowd at that show, but have severe ethical reservations about Penny Arcade. I'd love for them to sort that shit out so I could happily attend again, but currently I don't feel comfortable supporting them.
WHAT ABOUT REVIEWSICALS?
I like singing songs, and will continue to sing songs. That format likely won't continue, but I'll definitely be singing songs. SONGS.
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BYE!

2013 was an incredible year, and I owe most of that to VideoGamer.com. Given the freedom to try something new and focus purely on original content - effectively escaping the PR cycle of trailer uploads and developer interviews - was a weird and potentially risky strategy, but one that thankfully really paid off. Over 80,000 people subscribed to the channel, adding a whopping 16.7m views - a frankly bewildering 2095% increase on 2012.
The Abridged videos proved popular enough for me to almost entirely focus on making comedy content - a dream I’ve always had that I never thought I’d realise - and led to being able to work directly with Charlie Brooker, a man whose work I’ve religiously followed since TV Go Home.
Basically, it’s been a bit fucking overwhelming. And although I’ve done my best to thank those who’ve followed and enjoyed my work, I still feel like I haven’t done it often enough. If that’s you - thank you. I quite literally couldn’t have done it without you.
Which is why a part of me feels deeply guilty to say that in a month I’ll be leaving VideoGamer. Mainly, I think, because it’s tough to explain why. When your full-time job is making silly videos about games you’re naturally exempt from any form of complaining, but the truth of the matter is I’m burning out. I’ve always been one for juggling hobbies, but over the past few years it’s got to the point where I don’t have time - or space in my brain - for all of the stuff I’m trying to do. Over the past five years I’ve become very comfortable with trading off a social life for more fun work, but by the end of 2013 I realised I’d smashed through my own physical limit: Despite regular exercise and a healthy diet, I was broken and frazzled. I’ve always churned out work at an alarming rate and believed myself to be fairly invincible, but apparently this isn't the case and I’ve decided that I need to take step back and reassess things.
Despite best efforts and intentions on both sides throughout my discussions with the chaps at VideoGamer, we were unable to come to an amicable solution with the prospect of me going part-time - and so unfortunately I’ve had to take the somewhat drastic leap of leaving the company entirely. This is partly for the sake of my own sanity, and partly because of commitments I’ve made to Shut Up & Sit Down - a fresh and frankly wonderful website about board games.
The future outside of that remains unclear, especially in terms of daft videogame videos. I was tremendously lucky in VideoGamer to find a company to offer me such ludicrous freedom, and I’m not sure I’ll find a gig like it again. I can assure you that I will be doing STUFF, but initially my main aim will be working out a way to pay the rent through any freelance available.
So yeah, I guess this is mostly just to say thank you to fans of my work for giving me such an incredible year, and also an apology that the flow of silly stuff that so many people seem to love may soon be having an abrupt hiatus. The unfortunate side-effect of working for someone else’s YouTube channel is that at some point you have to say goodbye. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, in all honesty.
I’ll let you know as soon as I know what I’m doing. This hasn’t happened for the last 28 years, but fuck it - 2014 might just be the charm.
Matt
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Q&A about video content with The Guardian
A few months ago I was kindly asked by The Guardian's Keith Stuart to answer a few questions about the current state of video content within games media. It's something I'd already mulled over a lot, and something I've thought about an awful lot since.
Naturally not all of the answers I gave were included in The Guardian's article (which you can read here) - but there were a couple of points that didn't make the cut that I'd like to see represented somewhere, rather than silently sitting in my Gmail outbox for the rest of eternity. You'll find the full Q&A below.
1. Can you tell us about your brief at Videogamer.com? Is there a 'plan' to the sorts of things you make videos about?
I came to VideoGamer.com with very specific ideas about what I thought gaming videos should be like, and since then my brief has pretty much been to run with those ideas. Experimentation and quickly reacting to current news plays a big part in what we do, but mostly it's defined by the things that we're avoiding. Stringent marketing messaging briefs mean that video interviews are almost always a huge waste of time. Everyone gets the same interview, so without exclusive access you're just playing catch-up. Whether it's interviews, B-roll, or access to video capture, it feels like too much video content is controlled and defined by what PR are offering - and that's something I'm definitely trying to avoid. The biggest successes we've had with video this year have all been about stuff already in the public domain. With video in particular we've got less than a year before the technology needed to make your own gameplay videos is built into the actual console. Mere access doesn't cut it anymore, we need to be smart about what we're producing.
Plans come and go, but I do have one rule that I refuse to break: I'll only make videos that I want to make. Conventional logic makes this sound unrealistic and childish, but it's vital for maintaining a sense of integrity. You can pretend to be excited about something in writing, but there's no hiding the truth when you're being filmed. Hop onto any major US gaming website, and you're sure to be greeted by a couple of guys cracking out words like 'amazing' and 'innovative' whilst looking like they're on the verge of topping themselves. People aren't stupid, and you can't fake passion.
2. It feels as though most sites aren't really utilising the possibilities of video as a means of thinking and talking about games. Would you agree? Very few sites did what you did and made a video of the faults in Bioshock Infinite - most just wrote really long articles…
My Bioshock Infinite video was a strange one, because in many ways the structure was identical to a lengthy written article. I planned each point out well in advance, and ordered them in a way that would maintain good pacing and a sensible argument. I've always rolled my eyes at lengthy op-ed pieces, but really this was just that in video form. The difference between written pieces and video is YouTube Analytics: 40% of people who watched it stayed with the video right up until the end, with the audience retention only dropping below 50% at the eight-minute mark. Knowing exactly when people are wandering off gives you much better feedback for the quality of pacing in your work, which is something that long-form written work often lacks. What I found fascinating in the aftermath was how few opinion round-ups I read even contained a mention of video as a medium. I wouldn't call it a stigma, but there's a definite sense from those within the industry that intelligent analysis is still the reserve of traditional written pieces. Most sites don't use video in an intelligent way because they've become obsessed with churning out regular content. It's unfortunate that the rise of video has been parallel with such tough times for the media - outlets that previously had more integrity are now obsessed with profit margins. Industry veterans in the world of words are stoically defending the integrity they created, but the fresh - and profitable - video medium hasn't really stood a chance. Most professionally created gaming videos don't rock the boat or ask tough questions, they just provide something that you can briefly gawp at. It's a throwback to the passive TV generation; a relic of broadcasting that deserves to be obsolete.
3. What are your influences in terms of the way you approach video? Do you consciously take ideas or approaches from other places?
I have all of my best ideas on the bike or in the shower, so my main approach tends to be doing lots of cycling. I don't directly take ideas from anywhere, but I do think it's important to look at what works. Something I learnt whilst working alongside the terrifically talented and preposterously named Edwin Evans-Thirlwell is that it's possible to create populist content without doing stuff that's stupid or cheap. I don't think reinventing the wheel is helpful, so my starting point is always to look at what sort of videos people already like, and then trying to adapt the formula to make it unique, or simply improve it. If you're going to do something that's already been done, you'd better be damn sure you've done it better. The areas where I've clearly borrowed format ideas are in stuff like 'Let's Play' videos on YouTube and the Twitch live streaming stuff we do on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The only time I'll ever try and replicate ideas like these, however, is when I'm trying to understand what makes them so successful - once you understand why, you can use that knowledge elsewhere.
4. How do you think video will shape games coverage over the coming years?
We're going to have to work harder, for starters. When you're producing content for YouTube you aren't just competing with your peers, you're competing with the world. That's exciting, but also terrifying. The way that video shapes the future of professional media is largely defined by how publishers approach it. Smaller publishers are generally flexible, but many larger companies see video as nothing more than a marketing muscle - pumping out trailers and gameplay clips without giving journalists a part in the process that extends beyond 'post this on your website'. With the budgets behind some of these games I can understand the need to be risk-averse, but people don't want to watch a half-hour video of an executive producer playing through his own game. The biggest problem video journalists currently face is trying to justify why they deserve this kind of a access, when they can directly talk to one chap on YouTube who already has a far more engaged audience. Video is guaranteed to be huge, but there are no assurances we'll be the biggest part of it.
5. What do you think about the rise of YouTube video game 'superstars'? Do you think they will usurp the traditional media or will they always co-exist?
In many regards they've already usurped us, but that doesn't mean that we can't claw things back. A lot of these YouTube superstars have talent, but it feels like a lot of their success is derived from our industry's failings. We talk about games that are being promoted, they talk about games that people actually play. Most media outlets try to tick all of the boxes, while these guys are unashamedly niche - they do what they want, and that's it. There's a huge amount we can learn from what these guys are doing, but the measures that need to be taken are frightening if you're running a bigger business. The only way we can compete with talent like this is by giving ourselves an equal footing: They exist outside of the industry, but we have to actively distance ourselves from it. VideoGamer.com are smart and brave enough to give me full creative control over video, giving us an edge that bigger outlets can't match.
Maintaining some distance from the industry is important, but being embedded gives us advantages that the YouTube guys lack. Industry insight allows us to make much more balanced arguments, and being surrounded by media peers reinforces far stronger ethical integrity. The incredible power and sway these individuals have make it a topic that people are afraid to mention, but a lot of these guys are doing stuff that traditional journalists would describe as being dodgy. We might have banners and pre-roll adverts, but these guys deal in promotion and personal sponsorship. The brand they're selling is /themselves/, and without the watchful eyes of peers to hold them accountable, they make decisions and deals that traditional journalists would be crucified for even considering. There's mounting evidence that some individuals are even straight-up accepting cash from publishers to make videos about their products or games, which is naturally quite worrying. There are exceptions on both sides of the fence, but it doesn't feel like there's as much holding these guys accountable.
The one thing they absolutely nail, however, is actually conversing with their audience. Games journalists were on a podium once, but the days of broadcasting are well and truly over - you can't simply say your piece to camera and then wander off as if your opinions are infallible. I think the biggest problem with games journalism currently is that everyone who's getting paid to do it thinks that automatically earns them respect, when all they've really earned is a platform with which to develop it. A great piece will raise eyebrows, but it's only when you start reading comments, replying to questions, and genuinely talking to your audience - rather than /at/ them - that you start to earn an audience that give a damn about what you think.
6. Do you think game publishers and developers understand the possibilities of video when marketing their games?
Some of them are almost there, but they need to open up to the idea of media collaboration. There are a couple of games out soon that I'm hugely excited about that I'm 90% sure will fail commercially. I've played these games, I know why they're amazing, and I can explain why they're amazing to a wider audience in a way that traditional marketing is simply failing to do. Until I made videos about Dragon's Dogma last year everyone - including myself - thought that the game looked like absolute trash. Capcom had already put out a lot of official video content prior to that, but it takes the spark of genuine outsider passion to really create buzz about an upcoming game. The videos went viral, and as a consequence Dragon's Dogma ended up selling pretty well. Videos mostly get dished out as exclusives to major sites, but the Dragon's Dogma stuff made me realise that audience size doesn't matter. If something's good it'll grow regardless of where you plant the seed.
Capcom were smart to let me get involved prior to launch, but too many publishers seem to think that they can cut us out of the equation - creating their own video previews, and churning out endless teaser trailers. This works fine for a handful of blockbusters, but 'HOT NEW WEAPONS TRAILER' doesn't cut it for games that people have no reason to be excited about. The one thing games journalists are excellent at is explaining why games are fun to play. Preventing us from doing that is daft to the point of being catastrophic.
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Another bit of daft Photoshop stuff I did for OXM.co.uk - I probably don't own the rights to any of these, so bear in mind that these are just here for POSTERITY or something.
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This is one of the extra-curricular things I did for OXM.co.uk that I was most proud of. Our website's CMS and JPEG compression made the hi-res images look rubbish, so I'm reposting them here for future generations.
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There's a slight chance that I've gone totally mental.
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Tips for Piss
Urinating is probably one of my top-ten bodily waste functions, which means I obviously spend a lot of time thinking about how I can make it better. One of the biggest issues faced any self-respecting modern piss artist is trying to maintain control of the bladder in the final stretch leading up to a toilet.
Holding it in for an hour-long bus journey never seems to be too much of problem, but the final few minutes always feel like agony. As most of you will already be aware, it's possible to trick your insatiable weebag by pretending that you live somewhere entirely different. Look at that house half a mile down the road, and tell yourself that's where the toilet is. Why am I unlocking the door to this house, then? No reason at all, brain. Stop asking questions.
Unfortunately, This veil of deception gets ripped down as soon as you step through the front door, leaving you to make a final mad dash to evade the inevitable explosion of piss. After years of assuming that the mind is too powerful to be tricked by misdirection at this point in the game, I discovered a fantastic technique earlier this week. Imagine that the toilet is entirely sealed.
No lid, no water, just a smooth porcelain toilet-shaped object. It's a fake! A doppelganger! Abort, abort!
There you go, that's my piss tip. Tune in next week for more piss tips. Happy pissing!
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Dinner with Peter Molyneux

(This was a thing I wrote for a thing, but the legal team wouldn't touch it with a stick. In light of the disappearance of @PeterMolydeux, it seemed only right to put it up somewhere.)
Stepping into Peter Molyneux’s rustic home in rural Guildford, we’re immediately greeted by his wife, children, and large collection of realistic dogs. Directing me through to his private study for a chance to enjoy a pre-dinner drink, it’s amazing to see just how openly candid Molyneux is about his relationship with his wife. “I was married to someone in Slough originally” he explains, “but unfortunately she died when I stopped paying the rent.” Continuing to reminisce about his past sexual exploits whilst unfastening the catches on what appears to be an exquisite drinks cabinet, Peter admits that his previous mistakes have since taught him a valuable lesson about life: “Really it’s just a case of making sure they never meet. I’ve got another wife in Essex, and two in Birmingham – but that’s a big enough city to be sure that they won’t bump into one another.” He professes, eyeing the label of a bottle of whiskey. “That happened back in 2008, and Reginald was so furious that he simply ran away with both of the kids.”
Having moved through to the dining area, Peter suddenly realises that he hasn’t poured us a drink. Enraptured by his description of what he’d be serving for dinner, we honestly hadn’t noticed the slip-up – but he’s deeply apologetic nonetheless, and offers to whip up anything we can possibly imagine. We don’t want to make a fuss, but he’s quite insistent on making us something special. “Have you ever had a Martini that made you feel something… truly unique?” He inquires, leaning across the table with a degree of intensity we weren’t expecting. We explain that we once had one that was served with a bit of bacon instead of olives, but he shakes his head knowingly and beams an enchanting smile of simplicity. “I want to make you a Martini that will make you feel something new. Something you’ve never experienced before. /Anywhere/.” Up until this point, we would have happily settled for a decent beer – but sure, this sounds exciting. He nods, smoothly departing towards the kitchen as if gliding along invisible rails.
There’s a bit of an issue with one of the hobs in the oven, and initially it seems like dinner might be a little later than expected. We’re quite hungry by the time the food is served, and immediately tuck in to the homemade sausage and mash that Peter’s been talking about for most of the evening. The sausage meat is absolutely delicious, but it seems like we’re only able to find one on our plate – the majority of which seems to be covered in mash. Peter explains that originally he’d planned for the dish to be served with peas and gravy, but that he was nonetheless “extremely proud of what he’d been able to deliver in the time he had available.” It might not be exactly what we’d expected, but at this point we were too hungry to complain – and getting thirsty, too: We’d have to politely inform him that he promised us that Martini.
Conversation continues, and we begin to wonder when dessert is going to be served. He starts to enthuse about tomorrow night, when he’s apparently cooking dinner again for somebody else in the industry. He invites us along immediately – apologising for the lack of peas and gravy, and explaining the ways in which tomorrow’s meal would be incomparably better to the meal we’d just had. It’s getting late, and Peter explains that we’ve unfortunately run out of time for the evening – he needs to get up early tomorrow to begin preparing the ultimate version of his new signature dish. “Don’t worry - I haven’t forgotten about that drink!” he exclaims, cheerily handing me a half-empty bottle of vodka and a pint glass as I’m putting on my coat.
Musing by the roadside with our pint glass in hand, the evening overall feels like a moderate success. Things didn’t always go to plan, and we’re disappointed that there wasn’t time for dessert – but as a host, Peter was impossible to fault. Hopefully the limo he booked will arrive soon.
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How to Lose Friends and Alienate Paste

When your brand identity gets hijacked by an online stranger, it’s natural that the first reaction will be panic. How you handle things afterwards however, needs to be level-headed. It seems that after a remarkably fast rise to fame, Shippam's have decided to suspend the hilarious – yet unofficial – Twitter account @ShippamsPaste. Tweets are saved here for fishy-posterity, and you can immediately follow @EdJeff - the man behind the account.
I’ll not waste time beating around the bush, paste-people: You’ve made a huge mistake. With an aging fan-base most likely on the verge of extinction, it’s safe to say fish paste isn’t the coolest condiment on the street – a factor that made it the perfect target for this brilliantly daft spoof account. The idea of a Shippam’s paste even having a Twitter account is ludicrous enough to be funny in itself – a joke shot to pieces by the company's decision to have Twitter suspend the account, replacing it with an alternative official feed that I won’t even give the publicity of linkage.
Teasing followers with ‘updates and competitions’, it’s clear how the classically-mistaken internal conversation will have panned out. “Why should a stranger have 9,000 followers by using our product? Those could be ours.”
The problem is, chaps – they never will be. Cold-hard-truth time: Nobody gives a shit about fish paste, and no jazzy-redesign or expensive campaign will ever have a chance of changing that. Failing to tell the difference between an olive branch and a knife, you’ve just sprayed your chances of being cool with a fine mist of misplaced piss. We’d genuinely love to boycott your product, but that would have required us to actually buy it in the first place.
Screw the semantics of who’s-in-charge; this is nothing less than a social media disaster – within less than 24 hours you’ve effectively lost around 8975 Twitter followers. Imagine sitting in a room with a client and trying to explain that.
If you’d left it alone, you could have easily been looking at 15,000 by next week. Not only that – your knee-jerk reaction has now created a Twitter account that needs to be looked after by someone, taking up further company resources. You haven't thought this through.
You shouldn’t be shutting the account down – you should be offering the man behind it money. Dying products like yours are a nightmare to reinvigorate: Re-branding to try and attract a younger market would cost an absolute fortune. By letting an account as daft as @ShippamsPaste run free, you safely benefit from the best of both worlds: Old dears still buy paste whilst entirely unaware of what a Twitter is, whilst hipster dickheads like me go out and develop an irony-led addiction to seafood spreads.
I’ve no doubt that somebody in a suit somewhere will shrug off this criticism with a vocal-splurge about brand control and corporate safety, but the blunt truth is that you had genuinely had nothing to lose. You’ve regained control, but it couldn’t be more futile: It’s like fighting over who gets to be the captain of the Titanic.
You’ve not only looked a gift-horse in the mouth– you’ve also lost the best bit of PR you’ve been offered in years. I’ve no doubt that the man behind it will soon be offered work elsewhere – leaving you in full control of that lovely sinking ship.
EDIT: Just as I finished writing this, it seems the official account has been removed too. I'd like to think they're offering the man behind a bag full of money, but I've got the feeling they're a little too late...
DOUBLE-EDIT: Ed himself has since written a small piece for The Guardian. Go and read.
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Hello, you! Quite a lot of people started following my Tumblr recently, but I'm afraid I've got a confession to make: I don't actually use it all that often.
I'd like to, but working in the office full-time as a writer means I usually don't have the patience to start tapping away at home. Having said that, I still manage to keep myself busy with a variety of side-projects - one of which I'm about to brazenly plug without a hint of shame.
Regular Features is a comedy podcast I record with three other men, all of whom are a hell of a lot funnier than me. If you like anything I've written on here, then I'd love it if you could take the time to check it out, and maybe even write a mini review. In the meantime, you can find me on Twitter at @Jam_Sponge.
You can click on the big purple chunk above to find out more.
Cheers for taking the time to read this, and I hope that you enjoy it!
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