Another Annapurna work! Similarly to OPEN ROADS, it takes place almost exclusively in cars which — yes, fitting for a game named HITCHHIKER.
However! This game? It’s a slow burn that becomes surreal as fuck. It’s one of the few games that feels justifiably and smartly inspired by TWIN PEAKS in that there’s a hell of a lot of symbolism, a shitton of folks talking in code, and a protagonist who has no idea what the fuck is going on and is literally just along for the ride. Most interactive TWIN PEAKS knockoffs? Not great! I’m looking at you, DEADLY PREMONITION. Not the case with HITCHHIKER.
HITCHHIKER is broken up into five chapters, five different drivers, and the bulk of the game simply consists of listening to them and looking around at items in the car and trying to piece together the life you can’t remember, as well as your meaning to exist.
I realize that sounds pretentious, but it’s engrossing enough that I had no problem running with it. Or riding shotgun, so to speak.
That’s it. That’s the game. Like OPEN ROADS, it’s primarily an interactive novel, but it’s so engrossing and weird and enthralling and I am absolutely here for it.
The voice acting is absolutely on-point. Visually, it’s fittingly stylized and off-kilter and far more colorful than you might think for the subject material. If I have one complaint it’s the extremely abrupt ending which? I’ll note? Not something I usually complain about.
It also features an abundance of crows, which I can never get enough of.
If you are into interactive narratives/novels, I can’t recommend it enough. If you aren’t? Steer clear. (No pun intended.)
Part fifteen of an array of CD mixes I made for my wife over a long number of years! Read more about it here!
Despite the fact that photos from an airplane window are rather cliché, I do rather like this cover artwork, especially since I believe I took it upon a trip to London. (The tracklist text could be tightened up, though, especially since some of it is practically unreadable on the screen.)
This is an embarrassment of riches and also another mix where I’ve seen so many of the bands. FEVER RAY! ART BRUT! THE KILLS!
Arguably the greatest — or at least most exuberant — AMANDA PALMER song! Fun fact? Saw her live at Chicago’s Metro back in the DRESDEN DOLLS days. She pulled water balloons out from her under her tits and threw them at the audience. An audience that was almost solely comprised of young teen girls. It was a show where I thought to myself: “I’m the oldest person here. Also, I think I’m the only dude? Am I gonna be put on some sort of watchlist for this?”
Anyway! Amanda is one fucking audacious performer.
PARENTHETICAL GIRLS! POLLY fucking SCATTERGOOD! Goddamn DIFFERNET!! Fuck, I live for this.
Also? GOD HELP THE GIRL’s ‘Musicians, Please Take Heed’ which features one of my favorite lyrics:
I made a daisy-chain from phrase, verse and punctuation.
I’ve said it before and I will not apologize for saying it again: make the effort to see bands live. Even if it’s a shit performance, you will remember it and will be able to hold that memory close to your heart.
I constantly think about when my wife and myself and others were wrangling acts and when I was DJ’ing and it takes so much time and effort to finesse these matters, much less actually show up and do the fucking work.
I do not think many folks realize just how hard it is to be an indie musician, to try to give misfits a good night out, and how driven a musician or band must be to endeavor out for what amounts to free booze tickets and maybe $60 if you’re lucky.
Okay, I’ll step down from my soapbox now.
As always, tracklist! (Artist / Album / Song — links go to a video of the song, if available):
FEVER RAY / Fever Ray / Now’s the Only Time I Know
ETIENNE DE CRECY / discodust.blogspot.com / FUNK [Bloody Beetroots]
DIFFERNET / Collapsing Universe / Pattern of Parklands
PARENTHETICAL GIRLS / Safe as Houses / The Weight She Fell Under
GOD HELP THE GIRL / God Help the Girl / Musicians, Please Take Heed (This is a very good video, and features the very distinctive Emily Browning, all bangs and wild eyes and bee-stung lips! And her Godardian and Jean Seberg emotional compadre flitting all around?! Worth noting that it takes a very dark, suicidal turn at the end, just in case you’re sensitive to that.)
Annapurna has been one of the boosters of interactive novels over the past few years, publishing games such as SOUTH OF THE CIRCLE, TELLING LIES and WHAT REMAINS OF EDITH FINCH, just to list a few. The recently released OPEN ROADS is yet another quality narrative exploration addition to their library, one that focuses on the dynamics of mothers and daughters via a road trip to discover answers to family history questions.
OPEN ROADS has been in development for far longer than anyone expected. It was first revealed in 2020 at The Game Awards as as a project from GONE HOME development studio Fullbright, founded by Steve Gaynor who oversaw MINERVA’S DEN, DLC for the art deco intellectualism of BIOSHOCK.
If you keep up with gaming news, you may be aware that Fullbright as a development studio has essentially folded after practically everyone quit during the production of OPEN ROADS due to Gaynor’s toxic behavior.
Gaynor stepped down as CEO, but still, eventually everyone left except himself, and Annapurna allowed those that formed Open Roads Team to separately work on OPEN ROADS.
My apologies for the severe digression. It’s awful that the working environment behind so many emotionally sensitive games that resonate for marginalized folks are still helmed by toxic assholes who take advantage of their position of power, but I feel the context is necessary.
Anyway! OPEN ROAD is a raw and unvarnished exploration of lives lived, but buried and hidden. It is definitely more of an interactive novel than a proper game — there are no fail conditions, there’s no risk; it’s a small interactive tale of a mother and daughter exploring their past and roots, mostly via car trips and the occasional abandoned abode. It’s simple, yes, but extremely effective if you’re into these sort of interpersonal stories that explore the nature of human behavior and emotions and coping and willful ignorance.
If there’s one facet I’d complain about, it’s that the character designs for the mother — Opal — and the daughter — Tess — is severely at odds with the 3D realism of the background surroundings. It’s especially jarring when they’re driving in the car as the environments are startling realistic, whereas the characters are very expressionistic. I will note that the design for the characters is very winsome and expressive, but the the game does have an undeniable visual dissonance.
I’m sure that approach was done by intent, and perhaps meant to be unnerving and evoke how fantastical this trip is — how it’s dreamlike — but from an aesthetic perspective? It did unmoor me.
It’s a wonder that this game was released to the world, despite everything. It’s so heartfelt and feels so personal and I can’t help but love and revel in it. It’s perfect for a Sunday afternoon play, especially if you aren’t afraid to shed a few tears.
The following video is not technically NSFW, but it’s as close as you can come so …viewer beware.
Calligraphy. This music video is all about fluid, dynamic, gorgeous and ornate text and I am absolutely here for it.
I cannot relay how many times I’ve watched and rewatched this.
My mind is blown by the amount of effort it must have taken to will this into the world. Words and stop-motion animation and so much skin and ink spatters? Fuck yeah. Reminds me of when as a youth I’d suck India ink in a straw and spit it out all over a page and revel in the black stains.
The fact that the song turns me into a whirlwind? Icing on the cake.
Also? If you were a svelte goth in the late 90s? You’ll certainly recognize the liquid latex utilized at the end. That sort of skin-tight nudity needs to be brought back in-fashion because I miss rocking that.
(Fun fact: Another song of hers will show up in the next Electroclature!)
Lastly? Note the use of BLOCKLETTERING for the chorus. Really, goddamn, the attention to detail here is astounding. Fucking amazing.
“It doesn’t matter if you want it back!
You’ve given it away!
You’ve given it away! Away! Away! Away! Away! Away! Away!”
Laura Westengard’s GOTHIC QUEER CULTURE is mostly what it says on the tin: it’s a collection of essays examining goth literature and queer culture over the past few centuries, focused on how those in that community are often considered monstrosities and how they (and by they, I mean: people like myself) embrace and own it. In case you haven’t realized it? I’m goth as fuck.
What I didn’t expect from it was how it’s also 100% about trauma. Probably wouldn’t have read it if I’d known that before diving into it! I have been repeatedly told by numerous professionals: “Take a break from trauma-centric works!”
(If I’d read the subtitle “Marginalized Communities and the Ghosts of Insidious Trauma” I probably would have realized that but …I’m dumb and didn’t bother to read that far until the book arrived at my doorstep. I was hooked on the title alone and couldn’t help but read it.)
“Gothicism is perhaps best characterized by its excess, bringing the disruptive, the unspeakable, into our field of vision.”
I’ve touched on this before, but uh, from my pre-teen years into my 20s? Pretty fucking traumatic. I really put myself through the wringer. I’m still digging through everything I hid and buried, from myself, from everyone. I’ve been in trauma therapy for a while now. Didn’t really realize any of it at the time — who does when you’re living it? — but fuck. I hope to hell you haven’t had to deal with anything severely traumatizing but if you have? Get yourself to a trauma therapist. Seek help. It’s the best thing you can do for yourself.
I don’t mean to oversell — plenty of folks have been through far worse than I have — but we all have our own terrible journeys in one way or another, don’t we?
What GOTHIC QUEER CULTURE instills is that those who lean towards the gothic subculture, especially if one is queer or bent? You’ve been through a lot of shit and have been weathered and found some sort of calm through this dark community, despite feeling like one is a societal aberration and have been treated like shit, and often still are.
I won’t go as far as to embrace the central thesis of these essays — that goth subculture is innately queer, despite the fact that I identify as both queer and goth — but I also won’t deny it. For me, the goth subculture has always been about simply accepting the deviants, those cast aside from mainstream society and — yes — that definitely includes those who are queer and marginalized, more often than not.
I have mostly lived in goth and queer communities. These have always been safe spaces for me. You can embrace who you are, how you present yourself; you don’t have to feel like you have to put on a facade. You can be genderqueer! You can be non-binary! You can be androgynous! You can be a weirdo cishet that just wants to dance to the point where you feel abandon! You can just be yourself and folks will appreciate and embrace you! It sounds hippie-dippy, but that is absolutely the experience I’ve had in Chicago’s goth community since the moment I moved here and I love it.
We are the misfits. We have been spit on. We have been slandered. We have been abused. When I was younger and lived in Indiana? I felt like every day I went outside I was putting myself at risk, simply for looking and presenting the way I did and rightfully so, as I have been in more than a few situations where I realized: “Oh, fuck, these people are absolutely against me and are definitely going to go to town on me if I don’t do something.”
“If we recognize that a traumatically informed gothic aesthetic was and continues to be central to queer cultural production — critical theory, popular culture, literature, art, performance — it becomes clear that resistant and subversive queer culture is gothic at its core.”
GOTHIC QUEER CULTURE recognizes all of that, albeit couched in academic terms and references. It’s goddamn rare to find a text that encapsulates what I’ve experienced in a manner that is wrapped around the subculture I grew up with. It’s safe to say? I felt super seen. This text isn’t for everyone as it is extraordinarily specific but it was astounding for me and it might be for you.
It is so, so, so very tempting to describe THIRSTY SUITORS as the queer SCOTT PILGRIM everyone should have had, even though the former is a videogame and I’m referring to the SCOTT PILGRIM graphic novels. However? No, no, no, it is a very different beast.
THIRSTY SUITORS features Jaja. Jaja is a first-generation American-India transplant. She also goes through romances like toilet paper, leaving emotional turmoil in her wake.
After receiving her comeuppance via a garbage girlfriend miles away, she cycles back home to face the sexy daemons of her past.
To briefly note: I’m a white male (he/they) New Englander so I haven’t dealt with the very specific sort of parental passive-aggressive and negging portrayed here by a first-generation American-Indian woman, but I am married to a Greek woman so I’ve definitely witnessed something similar first-hand.
I will fully admit that I bought THIRSTY SUITORS because it looked like a spiritual sequel to one of my favorite games: JET SET/GRIND RADIO, all rollerblades and culture-jamming. Hell, when I was running club nights, we’d routinely use those JET SET RADIO gaming avatars to promote ourselves. SEGA was way ahead of the curve with that game. (That’s a story for another time.)
While THIRSTY SUITORS delivered on the JGR facet in that it was fun as hell — you can effortlessly skate around your neighborhood and the surrounding areas without facing much in the way of penalties — and it features the same exuberance and a similarly boppy soundtrack.
However, while it does incorporate the JGR mechanics to get around, THIRSTY SUITORS is first-and-foremost about one fuckup of a human being who has made so many bad decisions as a teen — someone who was innately alluring to others — someone who used people close to them like toilet paper, and is reckoning with that and trying to put matters, if not right, then not wrong.
Despite the name, despite what it says on its tin, while everyone here is horny as fuck, it’s about facing the night after as opposed to focusing on hookups.
This game is a fucking exhaustive emotional rollercoaster.
Like the best works, it’s framed as a daily structure. (Hey, don’t believe me? Watch DEADWOOD, which is strictly bound by sunrise and sunset.)
While the game mechanics are thrilling, really, the game is more about the narrative, and what a story. THIRSTY SUITORS is a breath of fresh air, detailing an immigrant story and 20-something angst. While playing it, I was totally gobsmacked that it existed because? Tales like these simply don’t exist in the interactive space, much less look as gorgeous and be so aurally hooky as this.
One of the things I absolutely love, love, love about this game is how physical Jala is. Jala isn’t the sort of person to just walk into a scene; they bounce into the action. Jala loves to flip around, and while part of it is a call to attention, it’s also just innately them. That sort of physical effusiveness is, oddly, no more on display than when Jala is cooking.
The first step to cooking is always: wash your fucking hands. This is the first game I’ve ever seen to prioritize it. (Also? If that’s not your first step in cooking? Uh, fucking learn it! Repeatedly wash your hands, you filthmongers!)
But I digress. Jala? Jala flips herself over and performs a number of acrobatics — and you have to perform a few quicktime events — to do so.
It’s a small note, but upon washing her hands? She flips on back to the stovetop! Everything is sliced and diced and served with over-exercised verve and I fucking love it!
As someone similar, as someone who can’t help but bop around in the kitchen, who can’t stand still, who is a weird ball of energy that always wants to be in motion, I couldn’t help but love her grace.
THIRSTY SUITORS is a game I wish continued forever. I loved every moment of it. (That said, I did skip every optional skating opportunity because I’m not in the mood for twitch-based gaming at the moment!) Did it have a satisfying conclusion? Most certainly. I still want more. I want a 7-UP of this game. 14-UP. 21-UP! (If you aren’t familiar with the reference? There’s an array of documentaries that follow folks every seven years of their lives. Highly recommended!)
I will note that, yes, I was disappointed that I couldn’t really romance anyone, but that’s not the point of the game or its narrative. Despite the flirting options, there’s really no wooing; it’s all about self-examination and self-scrutiny.
There aren’t many games that I feel the need to replay, but this game has been calling to me to revisit. It’s that good, and I feel like so much effort and thought and feeling went into it, but also seems like it was overlooked and under-appreciated. Please rectify that.
Part fourteen of an array of CD mixes I made for my wife over a long number of years! Read more about it here!
This is not a well-designed cover. The font feels awkward and I leaned way too much into drop-shadows.
However? I vividly remember taking the photo. I was visiting a friend and noticed the burn stains and reflected on what may have caused it, knowing I’d never get an answer.
Not every great moment lends itself to a great image, but I hold it precious.
Highlights? Motherfucking FIGHT LIKE APES’ ‘I’m Beginning To Think You Prefer Beverly Hills 90210 To Me’! NICO VEGA’s ‘Beast‘! THE LONG BLONDES’ ‘Five Ways to End It’! So good! I cannot keep myself from rocking out to those tracks! I’m doing so while penning this post!
Part thirteen of an array of CD mixes I made for my wife over a long number of years! Read more about it here!
I know this is a CGA-ish eyesore. (CGA? An old-school limited computer display spectrum.) I got way too carried away but I think it has a certain charm, even if it gives me a bit of a migraine.
Included is the back and front and an alternate cover — which is even more of a visual headache! — because that’s a thing I used to do for some reason. Also, the initial template, which is far friendlier to one’s senses.
…or not.
There’s a lot of repetition here. A lot of the same tracks from a few prior volumes. I’m gonna chalk that up to a bipolar manic episode because that tracks.
(And yes, I still have a few ‘tape suitcases’ exactly like this, full of second or third or fifth-generation ripped audio works.)
Highlights! EXOCET’s South End [Colombian Connection] is powernoise perfection, all gristle and meaty beats. THE BPA and Toe Jam is so exuberant and ebullient, although 80% of that is instilled solely by David Byrne’s lilt. THE LONG BLONDES’ I’m Going to Hell from their under-heard album ‘Couples’ which features the following:
I didn’t want to risk the chance of someone finding out /
Now I’m going to hell, so I may as well make it worth my while
Yeah, that’s my lifelong anthem.
Yes, I spent a stupid amount of time on all of these works, and that time is not reflected in the end-product!
I certainly should have read this before I read G. Willow Wilson’s current POISON IVY run, as there’s a lot that dovetails and reflects on it.
There’s a lot of dissonance, a lot of loss, a lot of weird shit, and a lot of frustration and anger.
However, almost all of that is via Ives.
Harley is a reactionary, bolstering voice here. This is Ivy’s tale, and it’s a messy one and has her reckoning with her past and Harley trying to back her up, but …not exactly able to do so.
What makes Harley & Ivy’s relationship special and significant — especially in the world of mainstream ‘superhero’ comics — is that they fundamentally understand each other. Both have been victims, mentally and physically changed by their abuser. Those changes exacerbated their features and, at times? Harles and Ives are like oil and water, and that is the case here.
Ivy is hellbent on revenge, not just on Floronic Man/Jason Woodrue — the monster who mutated her — but humanity in general. Harley is trying to repent for her prior ways and being a better person for humanity.
Like I said: oil and water.
Harley mostly rolls with Ivy’s plan because she’s ride-or-die, but the relationship is often discordant.
Jody Houser’s script is cutting and dodges when I thought it would weave — there’s one reveal later on in that made me question, well, everything — and the artwork, mostly via Adriana Melo (except when it isn’t) is strikingly focused on close-ups of everyone’s faces and reactions, giving an almost Ingmar Bergman type of intimacy.
As Ivy would like? This series is her world, and we’re just about to be torn asunder.
I have repeatedly said that every film is a fetish.
There is no better example of that than D.E.B.S.
That’s a good thing! Lean into what you’re into! Taste and wants are what make folks unique and often lend themselves to wild storytelling that will resonate for years! Films are incredibly difficult to will into the world and your fetish? That can be the strongest driving force and make the difference as to whether you can realize your vision.
(Unless your tastes or wants are hateful or hurtful and, in which case? Shut your mouth, head home and lock your door because the world does not need that.)
I’d been meaning to watch D.E.B.S. for years, but never got around to it until recently. To summarize? It’s four college schoolmates who are preliminary spies and Amy — the captain of said spies, played by Sara Foster (ex-fashion model and TV host) — falls in love with Lucy (the very striking Jordana Brewster), one of the most sought-after villains on their list.
I knew this film was queer before going into it, but given that it’s a film from the early naughts I assumed the queerness was couched in subtext instead of being explicit.
No. It is very explicit, practically out of the gate. Even though it’s primarily an action/espionage film that on its surface looks like it was willed into the world by a terrible cishet dude, it is really, really queer. This is all about queer awakening from the get-go, and about moving forward into queer safe spaces.
Writer/director Angela Robinson (who also adapted the life of William Moulton Marston via PROFESSOR MARSTON & THE WONDER WOMAN as well as the severely underrated HERBIE: FULLY LOADED) goes for fucking broke here, while still having so much fun with it.
I know I intentionally buried the lede here but all of the D.E.B.S. — which stands for Discipline, Energy, Beauty, Strength — are young women, helmed by the great character actor Holland Taylor, with some assistance from the much-missed Michael Clarke Duncan, clearly riffing on CHARLIE’S ANGELS.
Also? Their uniforms? Catholic schoolgirl outfits. All ties, white dress shirts, and very, very, very short plaid skirts. Robinson definitely knows what she likes — with a bit of satirical (and sartorial, sorry not sorry) and is not afraid to show it off.
Yeah. Really fucking queer. I can’t imagine how many youths were lit up and awakened by this film in the early naughts.
If there’s such a thing as passing the quasi-opposite of the Bechdel test? This film absolutely does so. This is all about women and there is no moment where two men visibly talk together in the same scene. Do you know how fucking rare that is? Especially in an action/comedy film?! And I am absolutely here for it.
D.E.B.S. is spryly paced and full of kinetic action and so well-cast and so, so much fun and again! Really fucking queer in a way that doesn’t think it’s odd that it’s about two women falling in love.
It also helps that the chemistry between Amy and Lucy is off the fucking charts.
While the film absolutely flopped, it has become a queer cult favorite — rightly so, as it’s one of the few queer films that isn’t sad or fridge their queers — and just celebrated its 20th anniversary, which seems wild to me because it’d feel progressive even today.
Addendum
Don’t believe me? I’ve included a number of links extolling its virtues below!
