World-class Taiwanese developer Red Candle, creators of the spine-tingling horror-survival tale Detention (2017), are back with their next horror-themed videogame, Devotion (the trailer is here). The setting is Taiwan in the 1960s, and that's all we can say, because it's just. That. Good.
If you have the funds, you can support the studio by purchasing an official copy on Steam, PS4 and Xbox.
For those of you who are aspiring creators or digital artists, check out Tiff Liu's post on the studio's creative process behind Detention.
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Thursday, February 21, 2019
The City and History
These days, I find myself thinking a lot about cities and history. After all, the whole world looks increasingly like Britain during the 19th century -- a landscape plagued by vicious plutocrats and the predations of the klept (William Gibson's wonderfully apt term), economic immiseration and ecological disaster.
It is also a landscape full of astonishing cultural dynamism, technological innovation and political ferment. Today, the local contradictions observed by Marx and Engels in Britain, Belgium and the northern United States have become truly planetary, to the point that yesterday's Chartist, abolitionist and trade union struggles speak directly to the democratic mass mobilizations of the billions against the billionaires.
Yet our accounts of the rise of transnational media, transnational audiences, the digital commons and transnational politics have been missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. This is the fact that the world has urbanized on an unprecedented scale over the past forty years. Where things happen is just as important as how and when they happen.
For the sake of comparison, British urbanization went from about 19% of the population in 1800 to about 50% by 1860, while world urbanization went from 37.2% in 1973 to 55.3% in 2018 (UN data).
This story is much bigger than just China. The rest of Asia and Africa have been urbanizing as well, and large countries such as Indonesia, Nigeria and Thailand now have majority urban populations. This massive shift has transformed the countryside, as the number of all human beings who work in agriculture has dropped from 43.2% in 1991 to 26.0% in 2018 (World Bank data). At the same time, many rural communities now have access to smartphones, the internet and consumer goods.
Given decades-old trends in fertility rates, demographics and urbanization, our world's population will stabilize at around 9.5 billion people in 2050. Two-thirds of us will live in cities, and less than 5% of us will work in agriculture.
One small sign of this transformation: the first mass shipment of electric buses to Kolkata, India. Battery-powered rickshaws have started to appear here, and it's likely that a local retrofit industry will emerge to convert existing hydrocarbon vehicles into electric devices.
It is also a landscape full of astonishing cultural dynamism, technological innovation and political ferment. Today, the local contradictions observed by Marx and Engels in Britain, Belgium and the northern United States have become truly planetary, to the point that yesterday's Chartist, abolitionist and trade union struggles speak directly to the democratic mass mobilizations of the billions against the billionaires.
Yet our accounts of the rise of transnational media, transnational audiences, the digital commons and transnational politics have been missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. This is the fact that the world has urbanized on an unprecedented scale over the past forty years. Where things happen is just as important as how and when they happen.
For the sake of comparison, British urbanization went from about 19% of the population in 1800 to about 50% by 1860, while world urbanization went from 37.2% in 1973 to 55.3% in 2018 (UN data).
This story is much bigger than just China. The rest of Asia and Africa have been urbanizing as well, and large countries such as Indonesia, Nigeria and Thailand now have majority urban populations. This massive shift has transformed the countryside, as the number of all human beings who work in agriculture has dropped from 43.2% in 1991 to 26.0% in 2018 (World Bank data). At the same time, many rural communities now have access to smartphones, the internet and consumer goods.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
The Polonization of the World-System
Polish thinker Jan Sowa nails the contradiction of contemporary revanchism:
There is a dialectical recoil to this revanchism: the majesty and wonder that is The Witcher 3.
When I look today at the chaos and indolence of the Trump administration or the mess that Brexit generates in the UK I cannot help but think of it as a bizarre "polonization" of world politics. I’ve seen this before! Steve Bannon looks, talks and acts (including the red nose and generally alcoholic look) as if he were an advisor to the Polish right-wing government of Jan Olszewski in 1992 not to the US president in 2017. Poland—and the entire region of Central-Eastern Europe—is undeniably in the mainstream of European and world politics. Even more: we are a kind of avant-garde! Not because we have advanced so high, but because capitalism in its neoliberal incarnation has brought politics so low.
There is a dialectical recoil to this revanchism: the majesty and wonder that is The Witcher 3.
Friday, February 8, 2019
Reflections on India
When I first arrived in India, I was overwhelmed. The country was so complex, had so many different languages and cultures, and embodied so many complicated histories. And so I began to read and learn everything I could about India, in as many languages as I know (French, German, English). I also started to learn Bengali, a magnificent language spoken by nearly a quarter of a billion people, which is just one of the hundreds spoken here.
Since then, I've managed to visit a few other Asian nations -- Singapore, South Korea and Thailand -- in order to begin to understand what Asia's high-income, upper-middle income and middle-income economies look like, what kind of societies they are, and how they function. These trips were especially valuable because they gave me an intra-Asian metric to understand India, a metric which wasn't the United States or one of the wealthier nations of the European Union.
I've been enormously impressed with the economic energy, political savvy, and cultural sophistication of every single country I've visited. Asia has some of the most remarkable artists, intellectuals, literatures and culinary traditions in the world, to the point that I cringe whenever I realize just how provincial I was when I first arrived in Kolkata (prior to 2017, I'd traveled around Europe and the Caribbean, but had never visited any Asian nation).
However, all of this new knowledge has a price tag.
That price tag is a responsibility to the truth.
One of Gandhi's most profound insights was the saying "satyamev jayate", which means "the truth will prevail". The truth is indeed mighty, yet Gandhi would be the first to acknowledge it is also fragile and vulnerable. Because the truth can be damaged, destroyed or suppressed. To properly grasp the truth, we must be willing to pay the price for defending the truth -- by rejecting lies, deception and deceit.
Knowing what I know, I cannot in good conscience remain silent any longer about what is going on in India.
I know full well that the repressive arm of the authorities (more on this in just a moment) may descend on me at any time.
That is the price tag of the truth.
Because the truth isn't simply the telling of true things. It is grounded in the fundamental principle of solidarity: the notion that other human beings can seek out and discover the truth for themselves, that all 7.7 billion of us on the planet are fellow participants in an amazing adventure, the democratic co-shaping of human destiny.
But the painful truth is that India is in deep, deep crisis.
It's true that every single nation on Earth is experiencing a crisis these days, as the old economic models break down, and as plutocrats everywhere run roughshod over democracy. But India's crisis matters more than that of any other nation, due to its continental size of 1.3 billion people and its extraordinary internal diversity.
The truth is that India is one of the most polarized, unequal and hierarchical societies on the planet, and this polarization and inequality have been intensifying with breath-taking speed.
The truth is that India is where the richest of the 2,000 billionaires extract the labor of the poorest of the 7.7 billion.
The truth is that India is one of the youngest nations in the world, but tens of millions of youth cannot find jobs.
The truth is that India's tropical location and dependence on the monsoon cycle make it terrifyingly vulnerable to climate change.
The truth is that India's growth has fallen from 9% in the late 2000s to 7% today (a measly 5.6% in per capita terms), while the investment rate has plunged from 41% in 2009 down to 31% in 2017.
So what is the government doing about all this?
Lying about GDP growth rates, censoring the internet, jailing human rights activists, underinvesting in renewable energy (India's total investment in renewables was literally one-tenth that of China last year), and delivering bogus "post-truth" budgets:
In short, as the crisis gets worse and worse, India's political elites have responded with ever more brazen revanchism, while its economic elites engage in ever more brazen looting.
The national train is headed straight towards the abyss.
To paraphrase Walter Benjamin, the upcoming national elections this April or May are the very last moment the people of India can pull the emergency handbrake of 21st century history and ward off catastrophe.
Since then, I've managed to visit a few other Asian nations -- Singapore, South Korea and Thailand -- in order to begin to understand what Asia's high-income, upper-middle income and middle-income economies look like, what kind of societies they are, and how they function. These trips were especially valuable because they gave me an intra-Asian metric to understand India, a metric which wasn't the United States or one of the wealthier nations of the European Union.
I've been enormously impressed with the economic energy, political savvy, and cultural sophistication of every single country I've visited. Asia has some of the most remarkable artists, intellectuals, literatures and culinary traditions in the world, to the point that I cringe whenever I realize just how provincial I was when I first arrived in Kolkata (prior to 2017, I'd traveled around Europe and the Caribbean, but had never visited any Asian nation).
However, all of this new knowledge has a price tag.
That price tag is a responsibility to the truth.
One of Gandhi's most profound insights was the saying "satyamev jayate", which means "the truth will prevail". The truth is indeed mighty, yet Gandhi would be the first to acknowledge it is also fragile and vulnerable. Because the truth can be damaged, destroyed or suppressed. To properly grasp the truth, we must be willing to pay the price for defending the truth -- by rejecting lies, deception and deceit.
Knowing what I know, I cannot in good conscience remain silent any longer about what is going on in India.
I know full well that the repressive arm of the authorities (more on this in just a moment) may descend on me at any time.
That is the price tag of the truth.
Because the truth isn't simply the telling of true things. It is grounded in the fundamental principle of solidarity: the notion that other human beings can seek out and discover the truth for themselves, that all 7.7 billion of us on the planet are fellow participants in an amazing adventure, the democratic co-shaping of human destiny.
But the painful truth is that India is in deep, deep crisis.
It's true that every single nation on Earth is experiencing a crisis these days, as the old economic models break down, and as plutocrats everywhere run roughshod over democracy. But India's crisis matters more than that of any other nation, due to its continental size of 1.3 billion people and its extraordinary internal diversity.
The truth is that India is one of the most polarized, unequal and hierarchical societies on the planet, and this polarization and inequality have been intensifying with breath-taking speed.
The truth is that India is where the richest of the 2,000 billionaires extract the labor of the poorest of the 7.7 billion.
I don't say any of this out of anger towards India. Quite the reverse: I have the greatest love and respect for the ordinary people of India. They are an extraordinarily talented and gifted people. They've treated me with the utmost kindness and respect, and I will be forever grateful to their hospitality.
But the truth is that India's rural farmers -- and it's worth emphasizing that two-thirds of all Indians live in the countryside -- are in an appalling state of immiseration.
The truth is that India is one of the youngest nations in the world, but tens of millions of youth cannot find jobs.
The truth is that India's tropical location and dependence on the monsoon cycle make it terrifyingly vulnerable to climate change.
So what is the government doing about all this?
Lying about GDP growth rates, censoring the internet, jailing human rights activists, underinvesting in renewable energy (India's total investment in renewables was literally one-tenth that of China last year), and delivering bogus "post-truth" budgets:
In short, as the crisis gets worse and worse, India's political elites have responded with ever more brazen revanchism, while its economic elites engage in ever more brazen looting.
The national train is headed straight towards the abyss.
To paraphrase Walter Benjamin, the upcoming national elections this April or May are the very last moment the people of India can pull the emergency handbrake of 21st century history and ward off catastrophe.
Thursday, February 7, 2019
Chiang Mai
Recently I had the good fortune of visiting Chiang Mai, an exquisitely beautiful city of approximately 1 million residents located in the far north of Thailand. Nowadays, Chiang Mai is renowned as one of the foremost artistic, educational and cultural hubs of Thailand, a country which transformed itself from dire poverty in the 1950s into a middle-income nation. Chiang Mai's roads, infrastructure and public buildings do appear to be well-developed and maintained at a very high level, although I cannot speak for the condition of Thailand's rural regions.
What did strike me about Thailand, and this is something I'm more sensitive to after my sojourn in India, is that there is a core dignity to Thai daily life, a steadfastness or integral quality to its people. I suspect (but of course cannot prove) this has everything to do with the fact that the country was never subject to Western European or Japanese colonial domination. It's something subtle but pervasive, the way that ordinary people are not automatically afraid of the police or higher officials, the way Thai tourists interact in an offhand and relaxed way with ordinary street vendors, and the way Thais in general are tolerant of foreign visitors from all over the world (again, this may just be Chiang Mai, so I'm happy to stand corrected by readers better informed than I).
By the way, the majority of tourists who come to Thailand these days are from mainland China, and it was fascinating to see Chinese families walking around town, snapping photos and sampling the local mango and sticky rice (highly recommended, if you've never had it before) just like their European and American counterparts. Believe it or not, the expansion of intra-Asian tourism is extremely important for the geopolitical stability and further development of East Asia and Southeast Asia, regions which are just beginning to overcome the legacies of colonialism and the tensions of the Cold War. Tourism could become one of the main drivers of Asian integration, similar to how it helped Europe overcome its terrible past to create the largest single zone of democracy and prosperity on the planet.
Here's one of Chiang Mai's well-kept public squares:
Buddhism is pervasive in Thai culture, and one sees temples, shrines and monks throughout the city. Here's a temple located in an ordinary urban neighborhood:
This next shot shows one of the intersections just north of the old city, which has been turned into a flower-laden miniature theme park. Note the brick structure on the left, which is a remnant of the fortress wall which once surrounded the old city.
According to the historians, Chiang Mai was founded in 1296 by the Lan Na polity, a regional empire which existed for hundreds of years until a series of wars with neighboring Myanmar forced it to become a vassal state of the Thonburi dynasty in 1776. All that is left of this dynastic history are remnants of the brick walls which once surrounded the four sides of the old city. The walls are visible next to canals with tree-lined sidewalks, former protective moats turned scenic landmarks. The city authorities have turned the moat into an urban walk, replete with potted plants and pedestrian bridges:
One of the highlights of my stay was visiting the Flower Festival, an annual event where horticulturists and flower-sellers gather to showcase their creations. Here's a shot of the public park:
Here's one of the floats:
The floats are amazingly creative. Check out this giant monkey comprised of flowers -- the King of all Kongs:
Another float:
The public park next to the Flower Festival:
One last shot of the park:
Chiang Mai's street food culture is fantastic, as are its restaurants. I should note the city also has some excellent museums and used book shops.
What did strike me about Thailand, and this is something I'm more sensitive to after my sojourn in India, is that there is a core dignity to Thai daily life, a steadfastness or integral quality to its people. I suspect (but of course cannot prove) this has everything to do with the fact that the country was never subject to Western European or Japanese colonial domination. It's something subtle but pervasive, the way that ordinary people are not automatically afraid of the police or higher officials, the way Thai tourists interact in an offhand and relaxed way with ordinary street vendors, and the way Thais in general are tolerant of foreign visitors from all over the world (again, this may just be Chiang Mai, so I'm happy to stand corrected by readers better informed than I).
By the way, the majority of tourists who come to Thailand these days are from mainland China, and it was fascinating to see Chinese families walking around town, snapping photos and sampling the local mango and sticky rice (highly recommended, if you've never had it before) just like their European and American counterparts. Believe it or not, the expansion of intra-Asian tourism is extremely important for the geopolitical stability and further development of East Asia and Southeast Asia, regions which are just beginning to overcome the legacies of colonialism and the tensions of the Cold War. Tourism could become one of the main drivers of Asian integration, similar to how it helped Europe overcome its terrible past to create the largest single zone of democracy and prosperity on the planet.
Here's one of Chiang Mai's well-kept public squares:
Buddhism is pervasive in Thai culture, and one sees temples, shrines and monks throughout the city. Here's a temple located in an ordinary urban neighborhood:
This next shot shows one of the intersections just north of the old city, which has been turned into a flower-laden miniature theme park. Note the brick structure on the left, which is a remnant of the fortress wall which once surrounded the old city.
According to the historians, Chiang Mai was founded in 1296 by the Lan Na polity, a regional empire which existed for hundreds of years until a series of wars with neighboring Myanmar forced it to become a vassal state of the Thonburi dynasty in 1776. All that is left of this dynastic history are remnants of the brick walls which once surrounded the four sides of the old city. The walls are visible next to canals with tree-lined sidewalks, former protective moats turned scenic landmarks. The city authorities have turned the moat into an urban walk, replete with potted plants and pedestrian bridges:
One of the highlights of my stay was visiting the Flower Festival, an annual event where horticulturists and flower-sellers gather to showcase their creations. Here's a shot of the public park:
The floats are amazingly creative. Check out this giant monkey comprised of flowers -- the King of all Kongs:
The public park next to the Flower Festival:
Finally, this shot of one of the best little cafes in town:
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