Why should we care about women’s representation in video games?”
Nobody is going to want a female protagonist!
Their target audience isn’t big enough to warrant any games!”
Women aren’t as capable as men, they don’t belong in video games!”
If more women starting playing video games, maybe then they’d have a say in the matter!”
So I’m back from ColossalCon (which was awesome), and to my delight I was greeted with copious amounts of GHOSTBOOK illustrations flooding my dash.
Here is the piece I made for the Ghost Book anthology artbook!
I got inspired to draw this after reading Vera Brosgol’s comic Anya’s Ghost~
Fee the faces?
A design studio in Berlin applied face-tracking tech to the Earth’s surface and this is what they found.
The faces of the Earth…
E3 in a nutshell.
Black Phoenix Project: Scout Dogs by Bulgarov
Sand grains magnified 110-250 times — tips of spiral shells, bits of coral, shell fragments, protozoa, volcanic material, calcium carbonate shells, biogenic sundries, fragments of baby sea urchin shells and tiny crystals from Maui, Lake Winnibigoshish, Okinawa, Zushi Beach and the Virgin Islands. Thank you, nature.
See more photos, credits and a pretty cool video here.
Introducing Horde Battles!
I think the reason a lot of male gamers, including folks in industry, haven’t been speaking up is because they think speaking up means accepting responsibility. They think saying, “There’s a huge fucking problem with gaming” is a terrible thing to admit, like the first person who says anything is the one who’s to blame, he who smelt it dealt it.
And so you’ve got a room full of people just sitting with fingers in their ears, hands over their eyes, and their mouths keep spouting the same old platitudes, don’t sell, don’t game, aren’t serious, not real gamers, not real gamers, not real, and they do great things, amazing things, and wonder why people still don’t take them seriously, why people tell them to get out of their parents’ basements or get a real job or just grow up already.
It’s art, they say. It’s art, but it’s ours and you can’t touch it, you can’t participate, you can’t critique, you can’t create. It’s art, but it’s ours. Not yours. Ours.
The world’s a funny old thing, just keeps spinning, ignores the feet planted firmly in the dirt, the would-be defiant stand, just keeps spinning, spinning. And then, finally, the one hard slap of don’t-give-a-shit inertia that wrenches fingers from ears, drags hands from eyes, and with it comes the realization of that first stumble, of falling behind, farther and farther every day.
Keep up. Grow up.
i think its time 4 bed