Thinking Harvester

This webpage is intended to be a loose collection of notes and reflections on one of my favorite games that I hope I'll take the time to cobble together into a more coherent piece in the future.

You Can't Live Without a Spinal Cord, Son

Recently I rewatched a longplay of the 1996 point-and-click game Harvester and ever since that day it's been difficult to stop thinking about it. I decided that I want to try to write something in its honor. I have no expectations for how long it'll be. My impetus is partially due to assuming that it'll be easier to write a piece on this than on Cruelty Squad, and I think the game has more substance than Nightmare Creatures and other horror games I have a fondness for.
      I'm attracted to this game in part due to my bizarre fascination with Iron Gates and other works of transgressive fiction. It's also a subtle influence on my own creative work in this particular manner: for my writing Conspiratorial Diabolism, I want to invent a character, a programmer and game designer, who conceived of a video game intended as both a piece of propaganda and as an instrument to desensitize players to violence. In Harvester, you play a character who's been put into a virtual world in order to familiarize them with violence. At the end of the game it's revealed that it's all the work of a group of people, the Harvesters, who created the virtual world in order to use it to try to turn prospective members of their organization into serial killers, without their being aware. In the mind of the game's creator the intention of the narrative is satiric, a riff on the idea that video games somehow cause violence by influencing people to commit violent acts or at the very least desensitizing them to violence. I'm writing a character who took this idea seriously enough to try to create a game that would justify the barbarism of his organization. By thinking Harvester, I'm beginning a preliminary investigation into the relationship between media and violence.
      There's a few different pieces of media that I think I want to compare Harvester to. I'll try to explain a little of what they are and try to outline my points of comparison. This section is primarily intended for later reference. First, a similar aesthetic object with none of Harvester's subtlety or charm: Ethnic Cleansing, an FPS developed by a Neo-Nazi organization where you kill minorities. This might be an irresponsible idea. Second, the song and video for Jessie Murph's controversial single 1965, which features a similar unreality of a bygone age of American society. Third, I'd like to think through aspects of Harvester through the lens of the writings of Georges Bataille, in particular his Erotism: Death and Sensuality as well as Litrature and Evil. These may not be the best selections. Lastly, the backdrop to this writing will by my initial attempts to read Baudrillard's Simulacra and Simulation which I think will be a useful tool to think through simulated worlds and media in the digital age. A long time ago I watched a YouTube video where the author was criticizing other writers, saying that sometimes people write essays like they're trying to explain everything they've ever learned. They said no one cares how well you understand Baudrillard, and they're right. But I care how well I understand Baudrillard. And I'm trying to explain to myself everything that I've ever learned. For now, the writing is mine.

The Chamber of Eyes

Off the top of my head, these are what I want to write most about: the obsessive mindets of Mr. Potsdam and Tetsua Crumb, unsympathetically referred to as the Wasp Woman, the way every character treats the happenings of Harvest as perfectly normal, similar to how Americans live in our own unique ideological haze, the dreamlike architecture of the central building of Harvest: the Lodge belonging to the Order of the Harvest Moon, as well as its series of Mysteries, the similarities between the Harvesters and organizations like the Tempel ov Blood, the inherent inability of media and art to account for a total explanation of systemic violence, the essential function of Harvester's mise en abyme and inherent reflexivity, the brief scene with your father in a bedroom covered in blood, the function of the police and school in Harvest (Loomis's voice actor is better in the French dub), the city of Harvest itself as a reflection of how the serial killer(s) who designed it see the world and what that reveals about the artifice and virtuality of art itself, my favorite songs from the soundtrack (Worship 2, Diner, Sinister, Ballroom, Mother, Barber), the charm of its FMV cutscenes.

Game Notes

This is an even looser collection of thoughts that I'll write down as I rewatch Harvester's longplay for the third time.

Il y a bruits bizarre et une chanson militaire dehors, peut-etre une défilé.

The opening cinematic is delightfully corny with its distinctly 90's 3D animation intercut with real actors. There's two oddly disturbing shots of Harvest devoid of any people, showing a street with a pool of blood as if someone was watching it from their porch behind their white picket fence, another shows an empty classroom. It leads to the entrance of the Lodge, modeled after the Hagia Sophia. You float through its hallways into a chamber with a mutilated corpse laying on a table and you enter its throat. Thank you, Gilber Austin, and everyone else who put their work and talent into this game. I'm ashamed to say one of my least favorite aspects of the game is the logo of the Harvesters itself, I just don't think the design is very appealing. You then float from above the Lodge to the house your character is in, the camera focuses on their ringing alarm clock. After the alarm you hear church bells as its hammers strike. You awaken as Steve.

You start the game in your bedroom, a comfortable looking room with 2 model planes hanging from the ceiling. The mirror is covered in dust and the covers of the books on the bookshelf are faded. Your mattress is dirty and you have a single folding chair in the corner. Your plastic plant has been recently watered. You find a pen in your dresser, you'll need it later.

You leave your room and head to the living room where you find your little brother, Hank, watching TV. The walls are a bright blue and you can see your reflection on the plates in the walnut China cabinet. You stop for a moment to chime the cuckoo clock. You take a moment to interrupt your brother. He's wearing a little cowboy had and is sitting in front of the TV, where you can hear trumpets blaring war songs as revolvers fire. He tells you he's sick and that father's sick too, locked behind his door after what mother did to him. He says he caught you and a girl named Stephanie on the sofa together and he had to tell mom. When you tell him you can't remember anything, he says you better remember soon because your wedding's in two weeks. He gets frustrated and demands you leave him alone to watch his cowboy show. You start to pester him about the television he's watching, an old cathode ray tube model from a bygone age, he says it's cutting edge and brand new. As you start to try to explain why the TV seems so old to you, you start to realize you can remember less and less. You start to forget the meaning of words. You ask if he's noticed the show's in black and white. He seems in disbelief that there could be color on a TV. You forget whether or not you've ever seen one in color before. Next, you're amazed that something so violent could ever be on TV. He tells you of course, as it's part of history and what made America great. You ask him what school he goes to and he says the same one that everyone in Harvest graduates from. You leave him alone to watch his TV. As you leave for the kitchen you notice the door to the master bedroom is firmly locked.

You enter the kitchen where your mother is baking cookies. She's wearing a vintage cocktail dress in beige. Her hair is dark brown. You smell dirty diapers from one of the cabinets. The kitchen's been outfitted with a fire extinguisher, and has the same general blue tone as the living room. You speak to your mother and she asks if you want any of the reject cookies from the trash. You're surprised to find out she's your mother. After being scolded you learn your name is Steve. You try to explain to her that you've lost your memory and you ask if she believes you. Well, you always were a kidder, Steve. She thinks you're being unserious and says that the next thing you'll tell her is that you don't remember Hank or your little sister either. You're shocked to have a sister. You turn your head and see a baby in a crib. She tells you not to wake her but you get angry enough to yell loud enough to wake her. You see a short cutscene of the baby eating a wasp. Your mother smacks it on her head and blames someone called the Wasp Woman. She asks you to visit the home of Tetsua Crumb to give her a piece of her mind. You say you don't know where she lives and she tells you it's easy to spot with all of the nests. She asks you to tell her to stop or that she'll take it up with the PTA or the Lodge. You ask what a PTA could do about the problem. She says the PTA commands a lot of respect in the area, being responsible for the charity bake sale and annual blood drive, and she alludes to its ties with the Lodge. You seem unimpressed by the blood drive. She says donations are mandatory and that if you're still here on Sunday you'll be expected to give, but says Lodge members are exempt. You tell her you won't let anyone stick you with a needle and she says, rather enigmatically, we don't use needles. You get into an argument with her about whether or not you're planning on going to the bake sale, you get angry enough to use foul language. She says you're lucky your father wasn't around to hear you, or Stephanie, who you've come to learn is your fiancee. She starts to worry about whether or not you're having second thoughts about the wedding. She tells you stop with the amnesia nonsense and to count your blessings, as Stephanie is good at cooking and cleaning. You ask her what cooking and cleaning has to do with anything and ask if that's all there is to marriage. She seems a little uncomfortable and says you'll have to ask your father about the rest, but assures you that Stephanie will do her duty when the time comes. She tells you there's certain disgusting truths to marriage that it's best you don't know about. You ask about your father. She says he's in the bedroom trying to get his rest. You tell her you tried to open the door but it was locked and all you could hear was moaning, as if he were in pain. She tells you he overdid it last night and asks if you want a cookie. You ask her why she's baking the cookies so early in the week if they'll be stale by the time of the bake sale. She tells you that's why she's throwing them away and cooking more to replace the ones that went bad. You ask what charity the bake sale is supposed to support. She says it'll provide a fund for homeless wanderers who find themselves in Harvest. You ask why the bake sale is so important. She says because many of the unfortunates who end up in Harvest need financial help. You ask why it's the town's problem. She says it isn't a problem as long as they're provided for, and that it's the will of the Lodge. You ask what Lodge she's talking about and she tells you The Hall of the Order of the Harvest Moon. The finest place in Harvest. She doesn't tell you much about it but says you should apply for membership. The last thing you do is proposition her for sex. She asks if it's because your father is out of action. You say yes and she says maybe later, she has housework to do. She reminds you to put the paper out for Jimmy.

There's nothing terribly interesting about your interactions with Jimmy, a kid who's waiting outside your house for the paper, so I'll be brief. He waits outside your house every day for the newspaper because he's convinced its his job, even though no one gets paid for picking up papers. He says that after the newspaper building burnt down, what else is there to do? Something rather funny is that if you ever try to kill this NPC, he'll put out a handgun and become incredibly difficult to kill. As you stand outside you see a frisbee stuck on your roof, and transmission towers in the distance. You feel their humming in your dreams. The last thing you notice is bars over the window of the master bedroom.

Before visiting the Wasp Woman you decide to visit the Potsdam residence, the home of your fiancee. It's a white house with a big garage and three windows on its wooden door. When you walk in you see Mr. Potsdam, a rather large man, laying on the sofa in the living room not doing much of anything. There's also a bit of background music that I can't find anywhere, with theremins. The ashtray next to him is shaped like an unnamed human organ. There's a funerary urn in one of the cabinets. The bookshelves are completely empty. Your eyes are drawn to a painting that hangs above the sofa, depicting a pair of hands holding meat. Mr. Potsdam seems excited to speak to you. He asks what the visit's for and you say you've lost your memory, he thinks you're joking. You ask why he doesn't believe you. Well, you always were a kidder, Steve. He tells you that your mother has already called, explaining away your amnesia as a sick prank. Mr. Potsdam asks if your father will be returning to work at the slaughterhouse anytime soon. You ignore him, asking how you're supposed to marry Stephanie when you don't even know who she is. Mr. Potsdam gets more and more nervous, a bit of anger shines through, as he demands you marry his daughter to unite your families, after which your father will give him all the meat that he wants. He sounds more desparate. You ask why Stephanie's grounded. He says it was Mrs. Potsdam's idea and not his. He says you'll have to ask her for permission and assures you that he doesn't want to upset you or your father. He asks if you'll remind your father about the meat. You tell him you haven't seen your father, you just hear him moaning from a locked room. He asks frantically if your father will be okay. You say you don't know. He asks if you can tell him that he'll be in his prayers for a speedy recovery. You say fine, if you see him. Mr. Potsdam tells you to be concerned as if he dies, who will take over the slaughterhouse? You can see the mental calculation on his face as he asks if you'd be the one to take over, being his son. You ask about the slaughterhouse and he says he couldn't imagine a better job. You say you wouldn't want to work in a filthy slaughterhouse and Mr. Potsdam seems genuinely offended. He calls it the most successful business in Harvest and goes on:
      Oh sure, cutting animals open may not be much fun; reaching into their bodies and yanking out the bloody guts, intestines dangling and slapping against you, the smell of death and shit in your nostrils all the time. Well, those are definite cons, but once you're done, and all the guts have been washed into the gutters, what are you left with? Meat. Rows and rows of scrumptious, red meat.
      You ask him about the wedding and he tells you that it'll be at the funeral parlor of a Mr. Moynahan, as Mr. Potsdam isn't a member of the Lodge it'll have to be held there. You ask about Mr. Moynahan, apparently he's the town's undertaker, who also runs a hotel. He asks again to remind your father of the meat. You finally ask about his obsession with meat. He calls it the foundation of any decent society which everyone needs at least 3 helpings of a day, and says that anyone who disagrees must be a communist. He says that when your families are connected via marriage, your father will give him all the meat he wants. He says it'll almost make up for not getting into the Lodge. You ask what the big deal about the Lodge is. His interest is apparently due to there being more meat than they know what to do with inside. He says you can go to the post office to pick up an application.