The ScrewAttack Magazine

It recently was ScrewAttack’s 20th anniversary. I’ve written about the site before, but I want to share a positive development. I was in a live-stream chat celebrating the site, and I was alerted that its magazine had been archived. Considering ScrewAttack had been wiped during its purchase by Rooster Teeth, I’d long thought anything from there was lost media. This disproved that. It’s only 17 issues, so not everything survived, but I figured this was a good time to reflect on the pieces I submitted. Especially since it was 15 years ago, and my writing style has changed significantly.

My first observation, and this is general, is how long-winded my thoughts were. I was in the early stages of self-editing, and I didn’t understand brevity. It often took three or four paragraphs to say what I now accomplish in one. It’s interesting looking back on, as, ironically, more of my personality seeped through. After all, why hide my thoughts if I had nothing holding me back?

This is most-apparent in my review of Okami. I happen love that game, even referring to it as the best Zelda entry once, but the first four paragraphs were me venting about its legacy. I’m unsure who I was venting to, only that it was approved with no edits. Looking back, I’d have done massive slash-and-burns on that. Especially since it wasn’t necessary.

Another example is my review of the best episode from Digimon: Zero-Two. I’m mixed on that season, but it’s telling how I threw shade at my summary of the plot. I mentioned how I spent close to 1800 words on it, and that was before my analysis! Was I always this verbose? It’s hard to say.

Moving on, it’s telling how unfiltered and raunchy I was. While ranting on the Tomb Raider franchise, I initially mentioned my disdain for fan-service, only to spend most of the piece rambling about that. The irony isn’t lost on me now. However, it’s amusing how unaware I was of that. Then again, I was in my early-20s…

This lack of self-awareness bleeds into my review of Wonder Woman. In it, I praised the movie’s lack of over-sexualization of its heroine, only to focus on that for an entire paragraph. I only recognize this now, as I was too focused on getting my thoughts out. But that’s what distance allows. The review even holds up, though I did the movie better justice in my compare-contrast piece.

In my Tomb Raider piece, I concluded with an open-ended series of questions. This is something I’d be forced to do at Nintendo Enthusiast, which I wasn’t happy about, but this sort of engagement doesn’t translate to a magazine. It works in a blog, where people can comment on your writing, but magazines are fixed. Unless they allow fan mail, and even then it’s an issue late, it’s a waste of space. That wasn’t on my mind when I was writing the piece, however.

The last point I want to mention is the magazine’s choices to convert blogs. Ignoring the typos, which were inevitable because the editor wasn’t a professional, some of the captions and clips didn’t translate from blog to magazine. This was back when I included captions and frequent video clips for effect. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it in. Or if they did, they were half-baked. My joke about sexism in Fullmetal Alchemist, for instance, is now its own paragraph, as opposed to an image with a caption. This doesn’t account for the review accidentally using images from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, which bothered me at the time. It’s funny retroactively, though.

Overall, this was an interesting time capsule from 15 years ago. I wouldn’t write this way now, I certainly wouldn’t use censored profanity, but I wouldn’t change anything. I couldn’t even if I wanted to! And I think that speaks to the power of art. As the saying goes: “Art is never finished, only abandoned.” Having written many pieces since then, I couldn’t agree more.

This is also a great argument for media preservation. In an era where online information’s at the whims of censorship, editing and deletion, discovering archived material is a blessing. It not only highlights your progress, it gives you something to compare yourself to. That’s a gift. And it’s something I cherish now that most of my work from that period exists as (sometimes corrupted) Word documents that rarely reflect the finished product.

Above all else, I have to thank HybridRain. It’s easy to look at some of the formatting and snicker, as English isn’t his first language, but I have to commend him anyway. He wasn’t being paid to make this magazine. It was purely a passion project, something he reminded us of regularly with each issue’s forward. Kudos to him.

There’s plenty about ScrewAttack that I look back on with regret: my failed exit in 2009 after an argument with some moderators. My one-month ban in early-2010 after an argument with some g1s. The controversy on TehPwnShop where g1s spent over 100 pages trashing me, an archive I’m grateful no longer exists. Even my one-week suspension from the ScrewAttack forums in 2015, which I’m still mixed on. Couple that with my un-diagnosed mental health issues, and it’s clear not everything was great.

This magazine isn’t that. I’d have loved more of my stuff be included, if only for preservation, but what made the final cut holds up decently. All that’s required is reading it with a magnifying glass, as the print is tiny. That, and manually scrolling through the pages, as they don’t line-up with the table of contents. I’m slightly bitter about that…

If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, consider reading some other pieces? There are 17 volumes, and they contain many voices. Some of these are people I keep in touch with, while others have faded into obscurity, but all are worth their time. Because this was a magazine built on passion. And who knows? You might find a new favourite!