In a posting to the Nettime mailing list in May 2002, one of "Velvet-Strike's" creators, Anne-Marie Schleiner, wrote: "I'm concerned with what game violence is coupled with: militaristic, heterosexist boys clubs in the real life, outside the game, war time environment of the 'war on terrorism.' We are also opposed to military fantasy masquerading as 'realism.' I am also disturbed that the binary logic of the shooter is being implemented on a global military scale."

It's been a long trip for the team behind "Velvet-Strike," and one filled with plenty of hate mail. Brody Condon and Joan Leandre were involved with conceptualizing the mod and contributed certain screens, but "Velvet-Strike" started with Schleiner's idea. It came to her, she says, "when I was giving a shooter game mod workshop in Spain -- the same day the U.S. started dropping bombs on Afghanistan." It was there that she met Joan, and "we talked about doing some kind of anti-military shooter mod."

Mods are extensions or adaptations of an original game, made possible by game makers who allow access to portions of a game's code. But even though her project is labeled a "protest mod" by the Whitney, Schleiner admits that "we did not program anything ourselves. We used a built-in function in 'Counter-Strike' -- available to all 'Half-Life'-based games -- the ability to upload your own sprays or graffiti to servers that everyone can see, and spray them wherever you want in the game space."

"Originally," she says, "I had considered doing a regular mod and making a level of 'Counter-Strike' to replace the textures with antiwar graffiti, but Brody had the idea just to use the built-in spray function. It allowed us to open it up to anyone who wanted to download sprays from our site, and use them in playing their own games." It was, she says, "a more viral approach."

The screens in "Velvet-Strike" are, frankly, pretty basic. Poorly done, even. Many are pixelated and tough to read, and their themes fluctuate between painfully earnest and flat-out goofy. But the payoff is in the idea, in infiltrating a game in order to subvert its subconscious message with a pro-peace agenda.

"Velvet-Strike" has toured Europe, in art galleries and events like the 2004 Rotterdam Film Festival. But "we didn't make 'Velvet-Strike' with any intention to put it on the art market or show it in those kinds of spaces," says Schleiner. "I don't think most gamers care much about the art world."

Reaction to "Velvet-Strike" was more angry and dismissive than the designers had anticipated. Many "Counter-Strike" fans made it personal, deriding Schleiner's résumé and gaming preferences (erotic mods and an admiration of fantasy games).

When news of "Velvet-Strike" first made the rounds, Schleiner was often lumped in with the anti-gaming-violence crowd. It's a tricky distinction -- to accept blood and guts in games while proposing an anti-military-action agenda. (For the record, she's not against violent games.)

"I think many of the hate-mail responses came from 14-year-old boys in the Midwest, who pictured their mom coming into their room and telling them to stop playing," she says.

Part of the reason for the response is the underlying sexism of the gaming world, but Schleiner also poured fuel onto the flames by including things in "Velvet-Strike" such as the "little-girl game" sprays, which throw hopscotch boards and pink teddy bears on the walls of "Counter-Strike's" otherwise immersive environment. Clearly, she didn't just want to make a point about anti-militarism. She also wanted to piss off a lot of people.

"Anger is an important tool," she concedes. "First, people get angry. Then they are forced to take a position and defend why they are angry. Then, if there is dialogue, they may change their minds. This happened to me with at least one of the flamers I wrote back to. The fluffy, teddy bear-type sprays bring to mind connotations of women and children, components that are excluded from the harsh, bare military world of these types of games. And humor has a subversive effect."

"Velvet-Strike" is part of a larger protest movement, including games like "September 12," meant to raise awareness in the gaming crowd. In "September 12," bombing a Muslim house only leads to weeping women and the creation of additional terrorists. Provocative, possibly, but poorly executed. The game is boring to play.

Some agitprop gaming ideas are more inventive, such as the Web site that challenges chess players to invent a mode of play in which the pawns can collectively rise up to defeat the kings and queens. The Web site Water Cooler Games tracks games made "to make a point, share knowledge, [or] change opinions." But many of these agitprop actions are pointless and pedantic -- a deadly combination.

Take the idea of a game "intervention." "Velvet-Strike's" Web site lists plenty of ideas for engaging in "performance art action" gameplay. This includes a "martyrdom intervention" for "Counter-Strike," where players should, "during the battle, tell everyone you are martyrs for peace, then jump off the tallest structure in the level, killing yourselves." In the middle of a firefight, will anyone notice other players taking a virtual swan dive for peace? And more important: Does anyone care?

The point, for Schleiner and others, is to draw a clearer distinction between entertainment and coerced thought. "I enjoy playing violent games and I enjoy watching action movies," she says. "But I don't want to play violent games where I am an American killing Arabs in a contemporary Middle East setting. Then there is no difference between entertainment and propaganda. The U.S. government is well aware of the propagandistic potential of games, which is why they have developed free military games like 'America's Army' and 'Full Spectrum Warrior.'"

Velvet-Strikers may not fit the hardcore status of some "shoot club" fans, but they still need to be good at "Counter-Strike," to survive long enough to throw some sprays on the wall. And instead of advocating censorship, they're just adding an additional perspective. But it's hard to say whether they are successful -- ultimately, their "interventions" may only serve to alienate people who just want a break, to be gloriously detached from the real world and its consequences by diving into a video game.

On sites such as Planet Half-Life, the overwhelming sentiment is for protest-mod planners to stop "ruining the game." One flamer wrote on "Velvet-Strike's" Web site, "I don't know why you feel the need to tie my beloved video game into this, but it's pretty low. It makes me sad to think that there may not be one thing in this world that someone hasn't already tied their political bullshit to."

But political ideology is already firmly in place, care of the U.S. government, in games like "America's Army." Is the problem really the introduction of ideology into a game, or just the broaching of ideas that FPS fans don't want to hear?

Recent Stories