Words

Sitting in my parents' house; watching a baseball game on television, listening to music from the video game Nier. For the flaws of the game, the soundtrack is incredible. I have things going on now and I'm still working on a proposed humongous Final Fantasy XIII review. My work on it is honestly rather sparse but I don't have a lot of time to spend on game blogging right now.

We Need Fun, a critical work, and a grab bag of recent gaming developments

The title of this article should explain itself quite well. Before we get into detailing a few key points that this article intends to bring up, we need to talk about myself, just briefly.

Over the last year, I feel like I've grown up way too much. I don't know what did it, but some sort of weird transformation has taken place within me. You ever get that feeling that you've been stuck in the past a bit too long and you've got to catch up as fast as you can?

Anyways, this is all about video games; not about me. Okay, that's something of a lie. It's about video games but it's also about me, my relationship with video games. This is the beginning of an essay that we're going to call:

We Need Fun.

I'll preface this by stating I have an incredible backlog of video games on the go right now. Ninety-five percent of the games delegated to that backlog will likely never be finished by me. The majority of those games are likely JRPGs, I'm not going to sit down and start counting what I haven't finished and what's what; that's not really the point I'm trying to make. It's a little too focused, we're trying to look at a bigger canvas here.

It's been almost twenty five years since the Japanese release of one of the greatest video games ever made, Super Mario Brothers. It is a crowning achievement, a gold medal. It is one of the best games we've yet to lay our eyes on because it's so damn fun (this is the key word so critical to our analysis it borders on fetishism).

There may be only a few key games that exist that could possibly be funner than Super Mario Bros. If it is the gold medal of the video game world, then what title could we possibly give to the best game Nintendo has ever made? Let's talk about the true experience of fun in a video game, Super Mario Brothers 3.

So, what makes Super Mario Brothers 3 deserving of such a title? It took everything that the first game did and tweaked it for the maximum amount of enjoyment. The original game was something of an experiment in a myriad of ways; it showed off the capabilities of a story which could be told in few words by making it so inherent to its own context that it's hard to interpret it outside of it. Mostly, the real experiment (and the one that brings the fun (I must use as many italics as possible within this review)) was with the playing mechanics and the implementing of the physics engine. Yeah, back in the 80's, games had such things. No joke! Mario has such a particular momentum in his every action; the acceleration of his run to his maximum speed, at this point you can hammer back on the control pad to make him skid to a stop, but not in an instant. His jumping is as nuanced, the pull of the control pad's movements against an airborne Mario is such a great thing that I may just shut up about it before I fail to explain it!

If the game had a failing, something it didn't really have but for the sake of argument was there, it's in the nature of the level design. The game will ramp up on you, giving you longer jumps in danger zones and springing merciless enemies on you (the sheer power of the original Hammer Bros. I feel has never been matched, seriously. play the game again and realize just how vicious these bastards are). By the end of the game; it all feels a bit the same. I'm not calling the game repetitive, because it's not. It just seems to stick to a formula.

Mario 3 throws it all out the window. We've got more levels, the greatest set of Mario power ups to ever grace any of the games, and some seriously fun, difficult moments. The original Mario felt like training compared to this and Mario 3 is the obstacle course of video games. It maintains that perfect feeling that you're always playing the level, the enemies are simply obstacles which the course manipulates and employs to defeat you. The focus is not on the enemies, it's on the level, and it's so clear through every level in the damn game, especially as you get further on.

It's weird; the more I think about video games I had a lot of fun with, the more I end up getting into some nostalgic mood. Despite my tastes becoming more refined as I grew older (I turned twenty just recently), it seems that the search for fun was more apparent during my childhood. Although that's reasonable; what does a kid care about, really? When you were renting games; you wanted the most fun out of that weekend in which the game was in your possession. That was your weekend, right there.

What does story mean in a video game? It's pretty safe to say that it doesn't really mean anything. There is the off chance that they are well written, but usually, they are of mediocre quality. Story in video games, its presence as the narrative backing the game; it should be a limited thing. It should never control or disrupt the flow of the game and most certainly should never disrupt the fun. Some game stories just seem to connect to me without much effort, though the instances in which that occurs has become extraordinarily rare.

If you're getting in the way of the fun, you're trying a bit too hard to make something that isn't necessarily going to work as a video game. This isn't just relating to narrative either, let's look at an example in Super Mario Galaxy (the review of Super Mario Galaxy 2, btw: forthcoming (by that, I mean within the next six months (i do not honestly know if i'm joking))). There are some fun moments in that game, but they are often interrupted by the instances in which the game assumes you aren't fit to be thinking and playing games at the same time. Whether it occurs in straight up dialogue (usually without even button prompts, just appearing when you're in the sweet spot, so to speak) or by the game "carefully" adjusting its camera to show a specific location that is instantly the answer to questions you hadn't even asked yet. I mean, fuck!

This is so critically flow interrupting that the idea should be brought out behind the woodshed and shot to death. I will always agree to the notion that we should be allowed to learn a video game without it ever feeling the need to really teach us.

I'm sitting on my floor, energy drink in hand; committed to the idea that life is doing its best to pass me by as fast as it can, without ever feeling the least bit of remorse. Still, any of my current woes seem so faulty in their existence that they feel nearly artificial. As much as this site is here for me to talk about video games, I can't help but find that my own personal issues and feelings creep their way onto here.

Last we were talking, the discussion was focused on not disrupting the flow of fun and enjoyment within a game. There can not be a point where the game says: "Enough fun, let's take a break". And believe me, it happens. Whether or not its a cutscene, or taking away the player's ability to actually think for themselves, it feels like games are going much further to the concept of "interactive entertainment" (this term is bad, but I can't think of anything more fitting right now) than they are of being fun video games. Realistically speaking, the only interaction between the player and the game should be the mechanics of the game themselves; we don't need these breaks for exposition or explanation. A game should be like pulling an infinitely long chain of entertaining moments out of your TV screen with no interruption or major hindrances. 

I've always had nothing but confidence for video games to be a high form of entertainment, ever since I became of the thinking age, when I started rationalizing why exactly I was finding the damn things to be fun in the first place. That might just have ruined it all for me; if I could maintain the childish mindset that just had fun because it was hard wired to do just that. Adults ruin everything after all.

This article feels different to almost all my other ones. I'm currently in the midst of likely being ripped off by a certain large retail company which will not be named over the purchase of a three hundred dollar camera. Short version of the story: it malfunctioned within the period in which returning it is valid. The employee who I guess is in charge of determining whether or not the store will replace it (let's call him "jackass" for the remainder of this tale) decides that, because he (jackass) is skeptical that the camera could have such a malfunction within about a week of its purchase. Jackass decides that all he'll do for me is send it off, hopefully to be repaired by the manufacturer. It's one of several inconveniences plaguing me right now and the only one worth mentioning in written form.

These are not responsible for the more pessimistic tone of this essay, as much as the previous paragraph and the antics of the antagonistic jackass would imply that they are. I've been playing video games for fifteen years now and for the longest time, I was pretty firm on the outlook that it was just something I was gonna do forever. So lately, when I find myself having less and less enjoyment with more recent titles, I question that commitment. Ironically, I expect myself to have a ridiculous rebirth within the next few years and start loving video games again (that's my small dose of humorous musings for this article).

(the "grab bag" portion of the article begins in full in the next paragraph. trying to complete this over so many different sessions left a lot of loose ends, creativity wise. so i have decided to fill space by talking about other video game related things! <3)

Some people have told me, whether it's in person or in testimonials written on the Internet (thus confirming their validity outright, with NO possible embellishments or twisting of the facts (there was a lot of sarcasm right there)) that they have cried about a video game. No human being with any self respect as ever cried over a video game! I have never cried at a video game, except for like once or twice, and for the sake of this article (and my own pride) those are going to be ignored. A good journalist knows what facts to use! Why would we cry over a video game? Was the story compelling, or were we just sad to see it end? It's hard to say, in my experience, only a few games have anywhere near the writing quality or a scenario crafted well ever enough to bring about an emotion like that. I appreciate the efforts to bring a great narrative to a game, but they'll never replace the notion of having actual fun to me.

This is something of the most recent picture of me that I, for some weird desire or another, would like to post to this site, attached to this essay like some sort of leech. My complexion looks pretty bad, doesn't it? I guess it's not terrible, but it's not optimal either. This is the first time in about seven months that I've decided to have short hair too. Something spurred in me around my twentieth birthday that convinced me to make that change! Perhaps that is tangentially related to the fact that I lose interest in nearly every video game that I touch (no)? Everyone is trying to make something with some sort of a message nowadays, I'm currently watching some footage of Warren Spector at Nintendo's E3 presentation, dealing with Epic Mickey. I just don't get it. Nintendo had what I felt was a good E3 but there are definitely some things I just didn't get, didn't care about, or even felt radically opposed to. The 3DS looks interesting, and Zelda: Skyward Sword has potential. Most of the other stuff didn't matter to me.

Donkey Kong Country Returns left a hole in me. Is there some particular reason that fun we've already had must be marketed back at us? I suppose it's cyclical and not too surprising. Nintendo will always be reusing old concepts and trying to reinvent, frankly, they're rather talented at doing so. I don't feel anything too strong about DKC Returns, but the feelings that are there are a bit on the negative end of the spectrum. To me, the DKC games were fun, harmless affairs that succeeded based on personality and craftsmanship. The mechanics were simple and there was a sense of reward to nearly every action. Donkey Kong Country Returns is being handled by Retro Studios, a company that revolutionized the Metroid series with the three Metroid Prime games, and it strikes me as odd that they would be given this project. It seems to be a simple nostalgic romp, which the Prime games were most certainly not. Their job in this case is to not reinvent, but to reaffirm. Can they handle it? I don't care!

The 3DS shows potential, but its flagship title doesn't (outside of great handheld console graphics). I am talking of Kid Icarus: Uprising. What exactly is it trying to be? Watch the trailer (this is when you start opening another tab and going to Youtube) and try to sort out the hodgepodge of gameplay that is occurring. It just looks like a clusterfuck of so many different ideas, one second its a 3D platformer or beat 'em up (that reminds me of Kingdom Hearts, so expect to press buttons over and over while your character does all the work and then you "win") and then it's a weird on rails shooter? Stop being so hyperactive, game. Settle down for a second and think about who you are, then call me.

The rest of E3 didn't matter. Sony nor Microsoft really showed anything of much promise that caught my eye. We're going to get off the topic of E3 and maybe try to wrap this article up within the next hundred or so words (...yeah right!).

So what have we figured out? We have deduced that video games need to be fun. Yes, this was unfortunately something we had to deduce. As of late, the weird "non-game" trend has been apparent. We are having successes in video games that aren't really games so much as they are things disguised as such. I don't really want to get into examples because I believe you're smart enough to know what I'm talking about. That is the one nice thing I'll say about any readers I have, I think you're probably a pretty smart person. Unless you start sending me hate mail, then you're either a douchebag or someone who is trying to appeal to me in a new way, by just ruthlessly hating on me. Maybe you'll hate me so much I'll feel obligated to mention you in an article. "Hey, fucker! Stop sending me terribly written emails on why my opinions are garbage and why I should stop writing. You should know by now that I'm just going to keep writing, simply to spite you." We can then be best hate friends forever. 

We might want to make sure that we understand that I don't HATE video games. No, that's simply not truthful at all. I don't hate all of them! I'm actually really enjoying Dragon Quest IX right now (when I find the time (and the right mindset) to play it. It's cheerful, it's fun, it's a Dragon Quest game. They have this knack, I guess it's responsible for why the Japanese buy so many copies of them. It thankfully has enough class not to take itself so very seriously. Is it perfect, well no. I think it's about time we stop expecting perfection out of games. Hell, out of anything. I don't think any New England Patriots fan on the planet ever expects the team to come so close to a 19-0 season again. We only see glimpses of perfection now and again.

Let's just go ahead and declare Dragon Quest IX: Sentinels of the Starry Skies the ThirtyFiveSeconds Game of the Year for the year of 2010 (we're gonna go with the North American release date this time, but if I were to start analyzing it, I might be able to put this over most 2009 releases if I were to use its Japanese release date). This is without any thought put into the declaration, because I'm sure if I were to think hard enough, there might be something better. I did really enjoy No More Heroes: Desperate Struggle, but there were moments in that game were I felt unsatisfied, maybe a little confused (and not in the usual good Suda51 way of being confused) and wanting a bit more out of a cup brimming with potential.

I'm not really sure how I'd like to conclude this article, so I'm just going to wind it down by saying that if anyone is reading this site, I'm thankful for your interest and I offer up a pretty halfhearted apology for making you wait so long between legitimate articles. If you're at odds with this website, for whatever reasons (be they personal or professional, maybe you're a developer and I offhandedly insulted a game you made), feel free to fire up a nasty email! I am always looking for more hate friends. Knowing that people will put effort into hating another person, going far enough to inform that person (usually with a volley of curse words and insults), it's kind of flattering! Anyways, I'll hope to be back with a new article soon, but that's certainly not a promise. I need to get a few things back on track before I can start considering to write on a somewhat full time basis again. More importantly, the quicker things start being fun again, the higher the chances of seeing me again rise.

self indulgent credits

~myself, for being a bad (am I self deprecating enough yet?) writer and also something of a man who loves (and hates) his video games

~rockstar energy drinks, for providing the caffeine, taurine, and other things that may as well be the only thing keeping me going

~foobar2000, for playing the music I like to listen to without any issues ever

~blogger's on-site text editor which invariably has HTML errors every damn time I write an article, despite the fact I never touch the HTML.

and...finally...

~Yuji Horii, for making Dragon Quest IX and making me feel like I have something worth playing, but who unfortunately could not offer us any advice regarding "leveling up" or getting that new equipment.

video games

what the fuck is a video game?

"a childhood longing"

Memories of Earthbound, a loving tribute to the greatest video game of all time.

I remember sunny days and rainy nights, in the midst of which I was playing this game. I can still recall my childish appraisal of the game's box, standing there with my parents in a small rental store in the small town which I grew up in. The first weekend I spent with Earthbound was so foreign to me, I was utterly astounded when I approached the counter to check the game out for that weekend and the clerk provided to me the game's brilliant strategy guide (it resembles a newspaper in its construction, it's genius). For many years, I would rent the game as often as I could, hoping rather openly that in the interim, no one else had rented the game. Oftentimes, when someone else did, I would come to find my save file erased the next time it was in my possession. It was a painful dismissal of the time I'd put in to it, to see my hard work erased by some know nothing jackass who could never appreciate the game like I did.

Everything to set Earthbound in motion happened as the result of childhood fascination. Oddly enough, the fixation of my childhood has now become a crown to the adulthood which I'm beginning to nurture. Nowhere in the world is there anyone who has the same connection to Earthbound as I do. Many video games nowadays are beloved and acclaimed due to what they do. Earthbound never did something so extraordinarily well that it would jump out to me, but the effects it had on me are exclusive. I can't really remember it perfectly, but I'm going to guess that somewhere in the ending of Earthbound (which I shall mention as being as perfect a video game ending as there could ever be) that tears streamed down my cheeks.

What I do remember, for certain, is the first time I finished the game, sitting in my cousin's house, his entire family, himself included, sleeping the night away as I sat there, controller in hand, sweating all over. There was an apprehension there in those moments; I knew how to beat Gigyas, and here I was, drawing closer than I'd ever had. Ready at any point to begin using the otherwise unnecessary Pray command with Paula (more on that later), set up to revive her at a moment's notice. I was as ready as I could have ever been, if I couldn't do it then, I'd never do it.

I didn't want it to end. What would I do with myself, having finished the game? Would that be the last time we'd be together, the thought crossed my mind. My cousin the next morning would ask me if I had beaten the game. I pressed forward and I started to use the Pray command, just as the strategy guide had told me. Many prayers later, something remarkable happened. It was terrifying. In the heat of battle, your prayers stop working. The only way of damaging the final boss becomes useless, your prayers lost to the void surrounding you and this struggle.

This just brought about more nervous perspiration, a sense of overwhelming dread. At this point, though, you've got no other choice. You pray again. Now, the prayers start to get through and Earthbound grows a sense of consciousness, something that seemed novel to me at the time but now astounds me. Earlier in the game, you are consulted by a non-player character for your name. It goes so far as to tell you that it means YOU, the one in front of the TV. You decide to enter your name, unsure of its purpose. It seems like such a throwaway at the time, you can't imagine it being important.

The last prayer delivered to defeat Gigyas is that of the player themselves. As I sat there, wondering whether I wanted the battle to be won, the game decided that for me. It is the will of the player which conquers Gigyas in the end. You may be amused by seeing your name up on the screen, for me...I don't possess a vocabulary capable of describing what I truly felt. The battle is won as it approaches a chaotic mood, the background pulsating, the music becoming erratic and truly desperate, before the screen crashes into static and a single dot in the center of your television.

I remember talking to my uncle in the hours that approached the day as he got up to go for a cigarette. He stopped in to talk to me, amazed that I was still here, playing the same game I'd spent nearly all day playing there. I told him that I had to beat it, I wanted to beat it there and then. He didn't quite understand me, I think. That's fine by me though.

The ending of Earthbound begins immediately after the defeat of Gigyas and I could still say that the game is ending for me, even to this day. Once a few small scenes play out, you're basically given the reins to do all that you want to do. My first time, not understanding truly what it meant, I just returned straight to Paula's house in the town of Twoson, bidding a painful goodbye to her before returning to Onett and initiating the final credits sequence. There must have been a few tears in my eyes at this point. I saw it end and a wave of satisfaction came over me, but it was not until years later that Earthbound truly became something of true value to me.

When I revisited the game years later, there was something inside me that welcomed it back with open arms and an open heart. I looked upon it with an amount of respect, remembering how much I had enjoyed the game as a child. This time, it went beyond simple enjoyment. At this moment, it carved itself a special place in my heart.

When on your way out

Be sure that you say goodbye

Then lock the door tight.

There was certainly something new when I played the game as a teenager, like I'd opened a door that I had previously not only been unable to open, but I couldn't even see it. As I walked into the room behind that door, at first; that room was nearly empty. It had been a long time since I'd even played this game, but it felt like in that room, there was a certain part of me that had been left there all that time.

It was indeed in there, something belonging to me, which I have now reclaimed. If I had to approximate it to anything, I guess I'd call it the essence of my childhood. I was never a very athletic kid, I was stricken with asthma so a lot of things were out of the question for me, so video games turned out to be a very prime factor in the development of my young self. Grasping what I'd left behind, I finished Earthbound for the first time as a teenager, growing ever away from adolescence and closer to this adulthood which I, at this moment, couldn't care less about.

The ending sequence that time cemented itself as the greatest moment of video games, period.  It was so psychologically fulfilling to be able to just do what you wanted. No more battles, but you could go wherever you felt; talk to whomever you want, see the world you changed and hear the praise you earned. So often it happens where a game ends and you feel left out, but not here; Earthbound lets the player themselves see and feel the appreciation for what you've done. 

Somewhere I heard that in the original Japanese (when the game was known as Mother 2), Shigesato Itoi, the game's mastermind, wrote every text box in the game himself. That's a scary amount of dedication, but it's incredibly admirable. Itoi, by trade, is a writer, so that's really not too surprising. He probably did it with ease. He's a man who probably never once thought to himself that he'd ever be making video games, yet the few he has worked on, he has done with such skill and thought that I feel a deep respect for him.

Every once in a while, my mind will remember something from Earthbound that will put a smile on my face. Whether it's a particular moment or line of dialogue, it cascades into my mind from the deepest recesses of memories and brings me back to a happy place. This is absolutely true, too. Other days, that feeling of despair while wrapped in the midst of the final battle will pull me deeper. Truly, the nostalgia which guides my feelings grows ever larger each passing day. Days like today, writing late at night; my body remembers the shaking and sweating when I beat it the first time, that night at my cousin's house. Every human being has a moment of cultural identity; Earthbound is mine. I know someday, after I graduate university and maybe leave this country, in the midst of carving a little existential niche for myself, my mind will wander invariably back to Earthbound.

Maybe there's someone else out there that feels the same as I do. For a multitude of selfish reasons I hope that there isn't, I want the experience that I had to be mine and only mine. That thought I had as a child still persists: I'm the only one who understands this game. I've played so many games and this is the only one which sticks with me for so many reasons.

Thank you, Shigesato Itoi. You gave me the greatest gift, a powerful exclamation mark on my childhood and a lingering effect on my coming adulthood. Without this game, I'd probably have drifted off that path a long time ago.

Thank you, Earthbound.

Why am I still playing video games?

Years ago, while I was still a kid, I theorized that when I was an adult that all I'd want to do is play video games. Somehow that prediction ended up being right, maybe the only guess my childhood self had that came true when I grew up. I've alluded to it, hell, I've outright mentioned it in other articles that I'd always thought that way.

Even now I still just really want to play games. I've turned myself inside out lately, drinking too much coffee and sleeping far too little. As an adult, I figured out that I do want to do a bit more with my life than play them damned video games all the time. I want to eat good food, preferably that which I cook myself. I want to listen to the music I want to listen to, at the decibel level I want to hear it, without ever having anyone complain about it. To accomplish that, I'd need to buy a house. That's out of the question for the time being (the time being amounting to roughly...the next ten years of my life, I guess).

To buy a house, one needs money, and to get that; I need a real job. Most days, I sit around on my lazy ass, in my underwear, hoping to walk outside and have a big bag of money fall on me. I'll take the concussion as long as it makes me rich. That's a really lazy way of thinking. If life is that easy, I'd be considering turning in my card. That kind of shit is the cheat code of the real world. Right now, I work a crappy part time job and seem to be losing hours every week as we continue to do worse business. I think it's reached the point where our owner reaches parity or makes a very slight profit every week. I guess my job isn't what anyone reading this blog wants to hear about, especially given this entry's title, but I haven't written anything in April so this update comes attached to the hip of my personal happenings. (i started this article before my small update making fun of Zelda: Spirit Track's obvious...*ahem*...successes in the Japanese market)

As I write this sentence, I am sitting in my parent's house, in the midst of a break from my "life". The life that basically contains work and video games. Less of the former, more of the latter as of late. I'm watching television for the first time in months (coincidentally, the last time I was here at my parent's house), swapping furiously through channels to avoid the anguish that is an episode of Friends. In my existence, my nineteen and three quarter years (birthday in July, folks so start contemplating gifts, I am open to anything that compliments my natural awesomeness) I've watched about one half an episode of Friends. A day later, here I am, back at my apartment; amidst what I call "mine". I have watched a half episode of Friends in my lifetime, let's hope to keep it that way.

Never once did I ever consider that I'd grow out of playing video games. It was always something I'd do, and I'd always be happy doing it. Is that true, even now? It's getting progressively harder to tell, but I don't think I've lost that ideal yet.

I guess I have to work tomorrow night, and that's kind of unsettling right now. I just took a nice vacation from that shit. This isn't random complaining either! This is me trying to make a point. I don't want to do anything for the rest of my life when it comes to work. I don't want to work until I die! I'd love to work a great job, but even then I'd have to give it up someday (mandatory retirement or otherwise).

Would I give up video games? This is a question I ask of the me of today, much like the I of yesterday. The only real difference is that I'm roughly a dozen times more tired today than I was yesterday. Days ago, would I have even been considering that question? Giving up video games, that's tougher than quiting smoking (i think). I hate to quit anything, to be truthful for a second. The good or the bad, I hate just throwing it to the wayside. Fuck am I ever tired, though. Giving up video games, maybe that's the way to a better future. Pondering the future can be kind of boring!

I really need to unpack from my trip home. I am so spastic all of a sudden, worse than ever before. I've got caffeine in me, more than I need. I feel my body being twisted upon like waves hitting me from all directions. My first order of business upon returning home tonight was to start playing a new video game (Resonance of Fate for the PS3. I'm trying to see if tri-Ace can make a GOOD game). Is that dedication or an addiction?

Let's try to make a focused point for once. Video games are at their simplest form a facet of the entertainment industry. We play them to be entertained by them. Thinking, most times, is optional. Out of the three primary media forms, video games probably require the least thought. Movies and music border on the desire to tell stories or enlighten the audience. Story or narrative in video games is, like thinking, purely optional. It exists, more often than not, although often times we could argue that it doesn't need to. Perhaps games are trying too hard to be something that they have no obligation of being. When done right, a video game is a truly unique entertainment medium. It is an experience that you are incapable of having outside of the medium. A lot of the instances in which I praise a particular game is directed towards its experience and how well it stands. Such games which I have "panned" such as NSMBWii are experiences which I can't help but feel are flawed; it's a fun video game but I can't say I had a fun time playing it. It felt off, it was too derivative of the previous games and had no idea what it wanted to be.

Strangely enough, the older I get causes a certain desire to swell within my mind; instead of playing video games, wouldn't it be interesting to design one? There's a bit of mature thinking attached to that, as a kid I didn't know I had these kind of ideas, or that I could apply my creative mind. As a young adult, I realize now that I can think for myself. What kind of game would I make, well it'd be something I personally would want to play. Something interesting enough without being totally pretentious. My favorite video game of all time, Mother 2/Earthbound challenged the dynamic that the game and the player are theoretically separate. I'd love to do something of the same, utilize the medium against itself, I guess. If this is going over your head, I apologize!

I guess to answer the question which this article asks; the reason I'm still playing games and have no intentions of stopping any time soon; I want to find my game. I know, realistically, that I'll never make a video game. There's always an off chance, I guess. I'm still pretty young. Thinking at ground level, though, I'm gonna say that I'll likely never get the chance to make my video game. So I'm just going to keep looking for it. That's why I'm still playing video games.

Want Zelda: Spirit Tracks?

How about 480 yen? Does thats seem like a reasonable price?

That new Zelda is SO good, man. The Japanese are selling it for five dollars, it's SO good man.

as seen on: http://blog.esuteru.com/archives/256319.html

The Ten Most Important Games of the Last Decade (Finale)

I'd like to preface this article by mentioning that I am an absolute hack who knows essentially nothing about video games or any of that. However, I am able to ramble on about the most minute of things with ease; wherein lies the power to confuse the reader to a point where they're just going to accept the fact of their confusion and say: "hey, this article...it's pretty good!"

Of course, I'm just kidding. If I have to trick my readers (...do I even have any?) into enjoying my articles then I'm simply just not that good a writer, or I'm that good at being an asshole. The point is...wait, do I even have one?

Let's point out my credentials; I can spell, I can consult a thesaurus when need be, and I play a veritable shit ton of video games. This qualifies me to write whatever the hell I want about video games, whether it makes sense or not. You might be asking the point of this random bit of passive-aggressiveness, basically what I'm doing is totally dodging the bullet; I'm beating around the bush. I'm eating a bagel adorned with hot sauce, bacon, lettuce, a slice of processed cheese and some mayo. It's my kick start to this day, a day where I may or may not write about video games.

I've got two more games left to write about, for those who are keeping track. I've spent a good deal of time trying to figure out which two games are deserving of the last spots on this list, and I think I've just recently come to a conclusion. To recap, let's see what's already on the list:

Katamari Damacy, The Sims, World of Warcraft, Mother 3, Metal Gear Solid 2, Wii Sports/Resort, Demon's Souls, & the terribly underwritten thoughts behind killer7 (I still apologize for the few shitty paragraphs I even wrote). An eclectic list if I've ever seen one. Probably not what any "professional" reviewer would come up with if he were paid to do what I'm doing for free. I play a damn lot of games too, so it's not like I'm picking names out of a hat. There's an honest to god thought process going on in this empty head I call mine. If I was just making these decisions up as I was going along, I'd have been done a long time ago. If this had been a no effort endeavor, I'd probably had never even started.

That can be said for video games too. Video games need to be a challenge, first and foremost. I'm not saying they all have to be incredibly, frustratingly difficult; games need to be beatable without totally overwhelming the player. Nowadays, the more the industry move towards the accessibility craze, the easier games get. That's not entirely a bad thing, and it's understandable why the developers want to make this happen.

Video games also need to be fun. I read an article today wherein Shigeru Miyamoto claimed that the lower sales generated by Nintendo in 2009 as opposed to 2008 was because of a lack of fun games. Hard to say whether that's entirely true or not because many gamers aren't specifically buying games because they're looking for "fun", oftentimes we are searching for an experience. Something to make us feel and to imagine, to stimulate the creative mind.

My "work" has been stifling as of late. My work, just for the completely uninformed, is not what I'd like to do for the rest of my life. It's nothing more than a job. It's my little way of making the money I need to survive. I'm going back to university soon, hopefully to get on the path I'd like to be on. Maybe someday, in some alternate universe, I'll get paid for doing this. Hey, don't laugh. I'm (50%) serious. At a job where we're only busy if we actually have customers, and not having customers being the norm as of late; god is it ever boring. At this point I'd like to inform you that yes, I am doing nothing but whining at this moment. It's my damned webpage and I'll do as I please.

Through my work and my friendships stemming from it, I've learned that there are a decent amount of folk out there that have ideas. We're talking about video games again, by the way. I'd wager that everyone who has ever played a video game at any time while being over the age of ten has a vision in their head of a "perfect" video game. One they'd play for hours on end because it's exactly what they want. Some people are lucky enough to have these already existing out there. We spend years with this idea trapped inside our head, hoping some day to see it made. At some point, it dawns on us.

We could make this game, if they gave us a shot.

That's touching. I know that every serious gamer would certainly oblige at the drop of a hat to make their dream video game. Some of us, those creative when it comes to writing, would like to do it to tell our story, something unique, a tale that has not yet been spun in the world of games. Here's a question, something I've run across in my travels of various "underground" gaming websites and certainly a thought I've pondered upon: What is the point of a story/narrative in video games?

Is the story there to give us an incentive to play the game? Many roleplaying games seem to fit this mold, we're playing the game to experience the story.  Although, when you think about it; does that present the thought that maybe the story is our "reward"? As mentioned, I'm playing through Final Fantasy XIII at the present moment. I'm not interested in the plot a damn bit, that's for sure. It's there simply for me to slog through because I like the game's combat system and I like watching the game move. It's a beautiful thing to see in action; it's when the action slows and the plot comes out that the game reaches its most sub par levels. There are likely people who disagree with me heavily and might be writing out heated emails to send to me.

The narrative in a video game, why is it even there in the first place? The question I'd really like to pose at this point is why must the exposition in video games be told so primarily through the medium of language? Video games have their own language! Since at this point we're running somewhere in the area of long to...shit, where are poor sexual references when you need them? Anyways, I haven't even mentioned anything about the two games that will round out this list yet! I'll get to them. Let's talk for a few minutes about the language of video games I mentioned.

Donkey Kong (the game, not the character) provides one of the first and best examples of narrative in a video game. At the start of the game, we see the titular ape kidnap a female character and climb the girders of the construction site with her, prompting her rescue at the hands of "Jumpman" (who we all know would later go on to become the world famous and now completely tired character Mario). It expressed this all through wordless cutscenes. When Donkey Kong is defeated, he plummets. We see his demise, the final part of the game's story unfolds. The game then, because it's an arcade game, starts over and gets harder and harder.

There is no bullshit in how the game told its story, there are no forty minute cutscenes (hi Metal Gear Solid 4, you delightful trainwreck you. Fuck you.) in which a bunch of characters talk about their feelings or other such garbage while nothing else happens. There is no ancient conspiracy or convoluted schemes. It is plain, simple, and exemplary.

continuing (and finishing) in no particular order

Canabalt (PC & iPhone, 2009, Semi Secret Software)

A video game that you can play with only one button. Sounds too simplistic to mean much or to be so awesome that you just can't get enough of it, huh? You're simple-minded and you should really consider feeling bad about that.

This is a startling return to form for video games. It has only one goal to achieve and that is to be a video game the way they're meant to be. You cannot simply look at Canabalt and dismiss it because it's simplistic. I've grown a bit weary of games that try to do too much and fall short; Canabalt takes the smart approach and does one thing with overwhelming grace.

Canabalt may as well be crack cocaine for the video game enthusiast, to the point where I'm uncertain that it isn't. What's the premise, anyways? Let's go back to the word we've used a bit in this part of the article and talk about Canabalt's narrative.

A wordless story that exists only to convey the objective of the game. Why is our character in Canabalt running ever so vigilantly to the right? We can peek into the background for our first immediate clue; giant something or others are rampaging. They are causing destruction. At this point, anyone is going to get the urge to run the hell away. Our unnamed hero will hop from rooftop to rooftop, dodge falling mechanical engines, step on buildings which will crumble away under his weight, hurl himself through the windows of buildings, all to just keep on running away.

Canabalt is not a game which can be won. Your only real objective is to see how far you can run; your distance is your score. That's likely why the narrative of Canabalt is so thin. Even in Donkey Kong, we had an end to the story. Sure, the game looped and the real goal was to increase your score to as high as you could (PS: congratulations to Hank Chien who scooped up the world record score of Donkey Kong in February), but we saw the end of a "story" when Donkey Kong was bested by Jumpman and falls from his perch. Canabalt, we never see a conclusion outside of the character meeting his end. Perhaps, Canabalt's only "ending" is the one in which we lose the game.

What we control in Canabalt may be the most important maneuver in the history of video games. With the touch of one button, we can make our character jump. We cannot steer him, as we do Mario, and we cannot double jump. The length of our jump is affected directly by the speed at which our character is sprinting at, he gains momentum as long as he touches no objects that litter the path to slow us down. The jump is all we have and we must be knowledgeable enough of it to survive in Canabalt. We must have precise uses of it. Our timing needs to be excellent and oftentimes you will have to make predictions on what's ahead. It is complex while simple because the game surpasses its design. Oh, and did I mention how fucking awesome the music is?

Shadow of the Colossus (2005, PlayStation 2, Team Ico)

The last game on the list. Since its release, it has posed a simple question; can video games be art? As simple as the question itself may be, answering that question takes a lot of thought. At this stage I'm going to offer a rebuttal to the art issue; do video games have to be art?

At the core of things, aren't video games simply a medium different than art? Why be art when you can be your own unique entity? Some video games might be art and some are certainly not. The games that do achieve it were probably never trying to, it just kind of happened. Games should strive to be games, plain and simple. Some games sought to be literature, just as some sought to be art. The point is, again, that video games should just accept it and be video games.

People didn't know how to take to Shadow of the Colossus at first. Its design was unlike anything up to that point. We as the player were granted a huge open world, our only objective being to hunt down and defeat the Colossus which roamed the land. We did this at the advising of a spiritual entity whom spoke in a strange fictional language. Our character, Wander, was searching desperately for a way to bring his beloved back to the realm of the living, so steadfast in his ambition that a task that seemed at its onset insurmountable meant nothing to him. It was no deterrence. He is perhaps one of the greatest characters ever in video games, a man willing to throw it all away and perform actions that seem less than heroic (some of the later Colossus fights paint Wander as being quite in the wrong) all for the life of his loved one.

That's a poignant tale, one that is time tested. Where this game succeeds is that it uses little to tell this narrative, preferring to use subtlety and visual language as much as it utilizes the made up language that the few characters in the game speak.

It is now a few days later, and I'm still writing this. The rain is pounding on my window from the outside, the showers of spring have hit and seek to leave their impression on this town this week. It's just going to keep raining, maybe forever. Honest to god, this is just depressing weather. My body is overcome with lethargy and all I want to do is sleep. My fingers on the keyboard feel as unmotivated as the rest of my being.

I last left the creative process in the middle of talking about Shadow of the Colossus. This article, unlike most of my previous works, is being written entirely in blogspot's built in word editor; as much as I love OpenOffice, sometimes transferring the formatting can be a real bitch, so I'm just trying to keep it as easy for myself as possible.

Whereas Canabalt stripped its mechanics down to the bare basics, giving you only one action under your own power; Shadow of the Colossus is more generous in what it leaves you, but it is still a game that has been streamlined for its own purposes. In this game, we're fighting the most well realized boss fights that I've yet to see.

In a barren world, forbidden for those to step foot upon its grounds; the Colossus reign supreme. Immense monsters appearing to have been born of the earth itself, they are what comes to mind when I hear the words "boss battle". Each one is another part of a beautifully told narrative that will unfold. As you slay them, you'll likely feel a deep regret for downing another creature as majestic as they are, the only beings that can live in this forbidden land, you shall feel like you're robbing the world of its only life.

I felt sad throughout the game, as I do now. Since spring has begun, I've felt rather down. My world has been too familiar lately, like a video looping over and over. I'm finding myself sleeping more, my motivation to work out has seemingly disappeared. My writing has become a bit erratic too, although I'm finally getting around to finishing up this list, which I've had a bunch of fun writing! I can say that much, even with my absolute failure to write about killer7 in a meaningful way (I'm going to apologize for that for quite a while, it seems).

Shadow of the Colossus is perhaps the closest we've come to a game that would be "art", if games needed to be art. It's a tired subject, but it's worth mentioning, I think. Its merits are still that of a video game, as is its goal; Shadow of the Colossus could not be anything other than a game. As I said, it will probably make you pretty sad by the time it wraps up, I know it did to me.

So, what's next for this blog? I'm not sure, at this point. I'm thinking my next project will involve finishing Final Fantasy XIII and writing a big review for it, but that's on a tentative schedule since my pacing in that game could be described as leisurely, at best. We'll see probably in the coming month if this bitch will actually get updated. Until then, I thank you for reading. If you have any questions or comments about this list and its final product, feel free to leave a comment on the site or send me an email at thirtyfiveseconds@gmail.com, oh and my offer for other writers is still standing (I think. It is based on my mood and if you're any good/possess something of the right opinions). Anyways, hopefully I'll be back with a new piece soon. I promise it'll be more pretentious than ever before!

Adventures With My Pokewalker

I went for a walk today to commemorate the nicest weather we've had this year. Tomorrow is looking, as I check the weather forecast, like a nice follow up. Today was a little different than my usual long walks, its path was as winding and downright arbitrary as usual; my feet guide the way. Uphill, downhill; it makes no difference, although I do enjoy the feeling in my calves as I tackle a long uphill climb. I've become a bit obsessed with fitness and the like; ever since I lost a ton of weight (from a combination of what I'll dub getting up off my ass and...*gasp*...eating healthy) I've been trying to stay that way. Building muscle, however slowly I may do it at times, is all the extra weight I want. I'm a healthy 120 pounds (for my height, this is a near ideal weight) and I don't wanna change that too much.

To get to some sort of point, I'm going to mention that as a younger kid; I loved the Pokemon games. You're probably the same way, those damn things seemed to be the crux of the childhood existence where I came from. And to this day, I still find the games enjoyable. Nintendo recently released the new remakes of Gold and Silver (the 2nd generation games which were on the GameBoy Color) for the DS here in North America, and being that that generation was truly my favorite regarding the series ongoing evolution, I felt obligated to pick up a copy. It hasn't disappointed so far. Nintendo, for all their faults, is great at cashing in on our nostalgia. Almost a bit too good at it, it seems to be their motif as of late. Whatever, I'm not here to get into a pissing contest with myself over my opinion of Nintendo.

The new games, Heart Gold and Soul Silver, come packaged with a mysterious little device called a "Pokewalker". It kind of looks like an old Tamagotchi (ironically enough game about virtual pets). It functions as a pedometer, which is novel as hell. I decided to take a very shitty and blurry picture of it, but in lieu of the snapshot of mine being completely awful, I decided to steal a picture of it off the GIS, just for the sake of having a reference. It is located, in case you're a complete idiot; at the top of this article.

Before setting out on a walk with the Pokewalker, you can transfer one of the Pokemon on your cart to it, allowing them to take a "walk" with you. So, I snapped it to the waist of my jeans and set off, iPod blasting my favorite music. Every once in a while, I'd take a look at the Pokewalker, as you walk, you gain your Pokemon sitting in it experience points (although not many!) and "watts"; which allow you to play one of two small minigames on the device itself. One game lets you look for Pokemon on the virtual trail you assign the pedometer (basically the area in which your Pokemon is "walking") and the other lets you find items. Two basic concepts, fairly novel in themselves but they feel as if they were necessary. The Pokewalker is interesting.

So, this afternoon with the Pokewalker clipped to my jeans; I walked 15056 steps. A quick search shows that a healthy amount of steps to take in the run of one day, if you're interested enough to make walking actual exercise is roughly 10000. So, in the span of about two hours (the uphill portion of my trek slowed me...D:) I probably did my body some good. Go me!

It's no surprise that in these new games your Pokemon are actually capable of walking with you. Walking, if you didn't hear, is the new big thing in the world. Japanese people are especially fond of it; they're also fond of smoking a ton of cigarettes. With the popularity of Pokemon games in Japan and the popularity of walking, smoking, and living ninety plus years ever increasing; don't be surprised that in the fifth generation of the games; we'll no longer be a child, but a semi-successful, early thirties male wearing a nice suit and smoking enough to keep his head swimming all day long.

It's a progressive kind of synthesis between us and our video games, the Pokewalker. We are supposed to be the "hero" in the Pokemon games; we're not guiding an avatar through a narrative. That guy (or girl) on screen, with his six Pokemon (and dozens more in storage) is us. He's running around with his Pokemon, and now, so are we. The gap between us and our player character has drawn a bit thinner. I remember that Diamond and Pearl had an in-game pedometer...evolution is scary, sometimes.

I'm gonna keep using the Pokewalker for a while, too. It functions as a regular pedometer; you don't even need to put a Pokemon on it for it to function. I think this is a good hint that Nintendo thinks we should get out and exercise a bit more; and they know we're more likely to do it if there's a reward at stake. Man, the human race is pretty selfish sometimes! More importantly, the likes of us are probably incredibly lazy, too. I say drop whatever you're doing and go for a nice long walk!

The Ten Most Important Games of the Last Decade (Part III)

Today's article will feature little to no foreplay. We're diving right in, so make sure you're prepared.

we are still in no particular order

Wii Sports/Wii Sports Resort (Wii, 2006/2009, Nintendo)

A joint entry, because I feel each game is worthy of the list for specific reasons and there's a heavy debate on whether each is "full-fledged" enough to be a game. The second one certainly is. It is perhaps the party game of the current generation of video games.

Wii Sports ensured Nintendo an amount of success immediately with their Wii console and its new control scheme. It also proclaimed, without shying away from it, the new philosophy Nintendo was employing: "Video games are now for everyone."

The casual gaming movement is one that I feel at odds with, if for my own personal and selfish reasons. Wii Sports was not a good game. It was a glorified demo of what the Wii could do, and it deliberately underachieved. Its strong point was the cute, appealing graphics and the overall simplicity. Eventually, Wii Sports Resort came about, toting Motion Plus (...has it been used for anything worthwhile yet?) and more games, so people (myself included) bought it.

I still don't know what to think of it. I can't help but feel that somewhere along the road, we were robbed of something important. I had a lot of fun playing Wii Sports Resort with a few friends, fooling around, learning the intricacies that came with the increased accuracy of the Motion Plus add-on. It's not a game you're going to play by yourself, though.

What did Wii Sports want from us, back in 2006 when it was released along with the Wii console? It was a statement that we needed to be ready to put a bit more effort into our video game playing. There was no excuse now, we needed to move around. We needed to get prepared for the slew of motion control in games to come, whether it was warranted or not. Super Mario Galaxy had a somewhat neat, if underused pointer mechanic that could be used to launch collectible projectiles. It also had a spin, which was absolute bullshit. It probably took a group of twenty grown men, sitting around a big office table in a basement in Tokyo; they stared at the controller and they decided that if we shook it, it should "shake" Mario. To make it look less unnatural, they equated it to him spinning.

Why did he need to spin, though? Our group took a slight break and went outside, cramming up the back alley with their bodies and their cigarette smoke. Twenty minutes later, we had our answer. Mario had to spin because there was stuff, in game, that could only be accomplished by spinning. Fuck pressing buttons, we don't have nearly enough of them anymore. Every button we have on the controller is already doing something, so let's make the spin a necessary game mechanic. It can do everything! It can even...get this, break things like boxes!

One guy spoke up at this point, the only free thinker in the bunch. He asked why the punch from Super Mario 64 had been thrown to the wayside and that it would work perfectly for breaking things. He was promptly fired after being given the explanation: "It's too violent to punch things."

If I can praise Wii Sports Resort for one thing, it's adding a bit of challenge to my favorite activity from the first game; the bowling. Wii Sports was all about finding a position and an angle that worked, and moving your arm in the same way every single time. Resort makes it a bit more demanding. Not that it actually feels like bowling, but it's a much better approximation than I ever would have dreamt of it being.

The games are the first real sign of the accessibility craze, something that has permeated throughout the gaming culture. There's too much being friendly in gaming today. I want to be challenged, I want it to feel like the developer is testing me with their game, giving me something with depth that I have to figure out on my own, like an adult. 

Demon's Souls (PlayStation 3, 2009, From Software)

The topic of difficulty is a beautiful way to move into the next pick of the list. I actually have not played nearly as much of Demon's Souls as I would like, but I've played enough to see its beauty and its merits. 

When I started playing Demon's Souls, it would be safe to say I was a little unprepared for what I was getting into and a bit underwhelmed at what was transpiring, too. You're already in the thick of things when you start the game. I remember getting to the first boss of the game, located squarely in the very obvious tutorial level; and dying. Yeah, I died against the tutorial boss. I firmly remember my exclamation: "What...the fuck?"

Death is a huge part of Demon's Souls. It is that I should mention that Demon's Souls is not a game you can lose in the traditional sense. There is no possible way to get a game over. I mentioned in my Cave Story review while in a tirade that Demon's Souls was a game you lost only by making the decision to stop playing it. You lose for the duration, and when you put the disc back in your PlayStation 3, you immediately start winning again.

I'm judging from the fact that I was slain in one hit by the boss of the tutorial area that this battle was pretty much a loss from the start. In the Nexus, the realm of souls, is where we start Demon's Souls for real. We're given a bit of back story and five locations which we can choose, they are each a varying difficulty. We may choose the hardest area first and get absolutely devastated due to our lack of strength and preparation. Right away, we've encountered one of the game's endless learning experiences.

That's what the game is, after all. A gigantic learning experience. The rules are strict, but there's plenty of remorse when you sit down and think about it. The game uses a one stop currency known as "Souls"; you spend it to buy weapons and armors, spells, and to upgrade your character. You have to use them for everything, learning to spend them wisely is the first big hurdle you'll have to overcome. When you die, whether in Soul form or in your full human form (in which your hit points are not halved, which makes a world of difference!) you lose all the souls currently in your possession, leaving them at the spot of your death. If you can journey back to that location without dying again, you can regain them. It's a pretty fair system and in some instances; it is better to face death and come back, trying to reach that location with higher health or a better strategy in mind to take out whatever made you meet your fate the previous time.

It's all about learning in Demon's Souls, which I find is a welcome change. Have you ever noticed how so many games these days are all about telling us what we should do or how we should do it? I'm tired of that shit, man. I'm getting older and maybe wiser, I've become theoretically independent. I know it's maybe a little obnoxious, but I don't want to be told what to do anymore.

I feel it's only fair that I flesh out the last paragraph a little bit more, so that it's a bit easier to understand. A great example of the type of hand holding nonsense that I've come to hate is Super Mario Galaxy; and all it entails. You can't turn a corner in that game without being assaulted by help, whether it's subtle or not. I'm surprised the game doesn't give you unavoidable pop ups regarding when you should be taking bathroom breaks, "Mario thinks it's about time you took a piss. Remember to take your dick OUT of your pants."

I can't count how many times in my criminally ignored campaign of Demon's Souls I've died. A good 75% of these could have been avoided if I was just a little smarter, a little more prepared for what was to come. Some of these frustrated me beyond belief, and I may have screamed at the game more than few times. I thought it was unfair, I didn't think I was making mistakes or gross oversights, I thought the game was just screwing me for fun. It wouldn't shock me too much if that was the intention of the design team, to make us upset and frustrated. To take us outside of our comfort zone, in an age where most developers are afraid to even look the player the wrong way.

killer7 (Gamecube & PlayStation 2, 2005, Grasshopper Manufactures)

Our first glimpse of Goichi (Suda 51) Suda in North America. A simultaneous crash landing and one of the boldest successes in modern gaming. A video game like no other or an experience that defies classification, even as a video game. People have been analyzing it for its worth and its faults since its release, because there's so much to take in. I think it may be the most unique piece of media to come out in the last decade.

Having been sick the majority of this week, I found out a few days outside of social activity and work; mostly spent on bed rest, will make someone look a bit like a cocaine junkie. I need to shave, I need to scrub the muck off my face (good hard scrubbing). I really hope this bout with random stomach virus #21 has ended with me as the victor. I haven't eaten a good meal in days. I really wanted to declare, if but for a few days, that life sucks.

Progress on this article has not been optimal, although I suppose it hasn't been terrible either. The days, whether spent in sickness or health, seem to go by way too fast as of late. Add that with my urge to spend more time playing video games than writing about them, and you have a lazy writer. My playthrough of Final Fantasy XIII is going well, should be wrapping it up shortly; a review will follow, as has always been the intent.

So, killer7. It's hard to discuss killer7 normally, because it is not a regular video game, it's also incredibly difficult to not mention bits of the story that may spoil the game. Some were quick to label it as having no place in the wide world of games, it was a label breaker and a bad boy; its very existence was defying convention.

What we have with killer7 may be the future of video games, though. Not that everything will play like it, or try to be like it. That's not what I mean. killer7 is a once in a life time happening. Anyone who has played killer7 will never forget it and they'll never truly understand it. It is a paradox, an ever ticking time bomb.

It's also a really fucking hard game to talk about! I'm tempted to just write "go play it for yourself" and finish this article like that. That is terribly lazy writing, but it's how I feel. Let's call it this; killer7 is so important and so unique that you have to play it (holy hell this sounds pretentious). In five years, killer7 will still be perched on its pedestal as "the only game of its kind".

author's note: I do apologize for the lack of discussion on killer7 in this article, but it's a daunting task to talk about the game, it'd be near impossible to do it any justice. Every once in a while, I remember something about the game that interests me; right now, I'm thinking about food. Eggs to be particular. I'm thinking about my headache the size of a football stadium,  giving small glances now and again to the black DS Lite on my bed and the new copy of Pokemon Heart Gold plugged into it, waiting for me to play it. I'm wondering why the fuck so many people play Farmville on Facebook, and what it means to be a video game. Are all video games made with a purpose, and what is the purpose of a video game to begin with? Is it to make the player have fun? Is it to make us think or to realize something, to send us a message?

There are people out there who take video games rather seriously. I'd like to mark the distinction that I am not one of those people. I love video games (not all of them, though). I'm optimistic enough to think that the medium is not dying; but it's not being used to its full potential. It's doubtful that it's been used properly since its inception, but I'm still pretty hopeful for it.

the remaining part four of this article is partially in the works already, and will hopefully be done in a weeks to two weeks time; barring sickness and any other distractions. i also want to make a half-promise that the next part of the article will be good (i felt this part was all over the place! but there's no turning back now). cheers

The Ten Most Important Games of the Last Decade (Part II)

Hello, my name is Patrick Lowe and I'll be your fine host today, as we rummage through the remnants of ten years which have now left us, searching for meaning. We've explored three games that I put on the list after somewhat careful deliberation, today's article; on the account that I'll be writing about games that I actually played and enjoyed (there will be no apologies to you World of Warcraft players. I honestly think you are terrible.), I'll be limiting the amount of games covered in this article to a mere two. After today, we'll have five more games to go through!

Before we start, let's discuss a few things. I can see outside my window that it is snowing, which fills me with a weird sort of apprehension. The weather has been mild recently and the month of March is fast approaching. I was certainly hoping we were done with the snow and crappy weather. I'm putting off a variety of things I should be doing in order to write this article, and how that makes me feel...it's hard to tell. I think about the fact that my apartment is near deathly silent, outside of the music emanating from my laptop. My roommate is on a week's vacation in a place of sun and sand; and I'm sitting here, writing about video games in an apartment which could easily be the scene of some grisly murder. That's the type of silence I'm talking about. It's not a sad feeling, as melancholy as my words may sound; I've missed this kind of weird silence.

In my experience of playing video games, I've seen plenty of things and been encapsulated in a variety of moods and feelings. The game industry is like any other facet of the entertainment sector; the focus is honestly and truly about making money. Telling a story and making people happy is an accessory to this. Sometimes, the games and movies which tell the most heartfelt story and invoke the greatest emotions to the player or viewer are not the ones which are most successful.

I feel, a few months away from being twenty, that my nineteen year old self knows about as much about life as my twenty year old self will. Did I grow up a bit too fast? Ever since I was young, I knew how I'd want to be entertained for the rest of my life: I wanted to play video games. Good video games, video games that are fun, that are interesting, video games with music good enough that I can keep the volume way up and shut out the world. I've known this for what feels like forever. There's a lot of satisfaction in knowing that my younger self was smart enough, or at least perceptive enough to know a part of what I wanted out of life. I'll be back in school in the fall, ready to take on the world again. Another choice, made by myself, about myself. Whenever we're faced with the toughest choices, we're always a bit away from that right answer. 

That's reassuring, actually. We're human, after all. There are some of us who just want to play video games. Can you blame us? That first time we picked up a controller, that apprehension as we tried to understand what it was we were doing, and more importantly, why it was fun for us, that's an experience. I've tried to tout the merit of the experience above all else in this blog's few reviews (there are more coming. when, i'm not sure). I'm writing this in the middle of the day, when I could be doing something better, honestly. I'm sipping a hot chocolate (it's not from anywhere or anything...it's uh...Nestle Carnation. it's not bad, it's kind of making me sick to my stomach, though i'm blaming that on my headache and general feeling of weariness)

Without any further ado, however, today's presentation is ready to begin. Enough talk, enough bitching, let's get right on down to it.

sponsored by:

(A&W Diet Root Beer)

&

(the relatively hot women of Final Fantasy XIII)

continuing in no particular order

Mother 3 (GameBoy Advance, 2006, Nintendo)

This is somewhat of a controversial choice, because the game never saw a legitimate North American release. You've probably never even heard of it, so it does seem like a bit of an odd choice. It's a decision that is being made simply for myself, because I'd feel truly awful to leave this game off of here.

This could easily be one of the greatest games ever made, and it makes strong points of contention that it could be simply put, the Best Game Ever. Certifiably, it tells the best "story" that a video game has ever done, because it was written by a man whose obvious flair is not for video games. I'm going to spend a decent amount of time (and words) elaborating on this. Make sure you're sitting in an incredibly comfortable chair and are well fed, with plenty of fluids on hand.

Years ago, I was first introduced to the work of Shigesato Itoi when I stumbled upon Earthbound in a small rental store in the town I was raised. It was a Saturday morning, the day I always rented games. Never an active child, this was the start of why I'm here now, doing this, I figure.

Describing Earthbound would take forever if I were to go into any intimate details; let's just put it this way. It's the most verbatim copying of the original J-RPG formula which Dragon Quest laid down, cleverly used to critique and satire Western culture. It is beyond clever, and in the end is an incredibly touching experience. And it did this without really doing anything new regarding the structure of the game itself. It was certainly the work of a man who wasn't really interested in the gaming industry, however, he was certainly quite enamored with using the medium to deliver a story so fine crafted to being a video game that it's arguable that the story could be presented otherwise.

That man is Shigesato Itoi. He has only made four video games, to date, all for Nintendo systems. An oft-told story claims that he is the man who thought up of the name GameBoy for Gunpei Yokoi, a man whom despite all his great innovations was lambasted for one of the greatest failures in Nintendo's long history, the Virtual Boy. His four games are as such:

1. Mother
   
2. Mother 2/Earthbound (the name granted to it for its North American release)
3. Mother 3
4. Shigesato Itoi's No.1  Bass Fishing

He is a journalist and essayist by trade, a writer. He runs a website where he has published countless articles regarding his philosophies on life, as well as interviews with people from many walks of life that focus, usually, on the philosophical. This is a man who never needed to make a video game in his life, yet he has made four of them. One of which, we can regard as simply being done for the "fun of it". No. 1 Bass Fishing was actually the subject of two several day tournaments across the nation of Japan, the first of which Itoi himself participated in. I think that's pretty neat.

Mother 3 is perhaps, on the one hand, the least video game like endeavor of his four games. It has the most literary qualities, a plot which is, as the game's commercial touted: "Strange, funny, and heartrending." We deal with things in Mother 3 that we may easily deal with in life; death, destruction, the budding of friendships and those giant changes, with plenty of tears shed along the journey. When it ends, we come to the realization that we never wanted it to. We're all adults here, yet I wonder if we've yet left behind our childhoods.

I was certainly a child when I first played Earthbound, so many years ago. Growing up, ever so slowly, I've been able to derive more meaning from the game. Mother 3 came out when I was fifteen, soon to be going onto sixteen, which everyone tends to treat as an important time in your life. I never saw the fuss. Perhaps I was (and still am) a bit too cynical to grasp the fascination.

Mother 3, however, was exactly what my fifteen year old self had wanted. A grown up version of what my younger self had declared his "favorite video game ever". I had grown up, and my video games had too. Every day I waited for the game, remembering the ending of Earthbound and the promise of a continuation, I became a bit older. When Mother 3 came out, for a brief period of time, I wasn't getting any older. When I beat Mother 3 for the first time, I grew up again. Since then, I probably haven't gotten any older. When we're truly old, we'll look back through our memories and see what has defined us. Mother 3, for the past four years, has been so truly important to me that until something else comes along, it will continue to be with me forever. Where Earthbound was what we'll call a childhood obsession, Mother 3 is my adulthood obsession.

At the start of Mother 3, for the first three chapters, we're simply being introduced to the story. The three chapters occur in a fashion that interlocks them, they are happening all at the same time, from different perspectives. The fascinating thing to me, and certainly a great element of how Mother 3 goes about telling its story, is that we control a different "main" character for each of the first three chapters, and then the game's true main protagonist for the remainder of the game. When they are directly under our control, the main character will never speak. This allows us to step into the shoes of multiple characters along the way, knowing their personalities, knowing that they are actually an important part of the game's story, yet for a period of time; they are us, the player. A vessel through which we interact with the world that is not ours.

Today is one of those days. I'm awake, begrudgingly, making myself some lunch. Listening to some music in this otherwise hushed apartment of mine, wondering what kind of night I'm going to have at work. Every weekend, I work one night until 2 AM or later. That kind of predictability, some people care for it. I'm drinking diet pop and wondering how good an energy drink might be later. Here I am, on the verge of adulthood, sitting at its cusp, shuffling through such small cares.

Well, I've spent a few days not actually working on this. It's March! I'm definitely not finishing all ten picks on this list in a month of the first iteration. But fuck, sometimes you just have to actually sit down and work. So, let's get back to Mother 3, so we can move on from it and get to another game.

talking about Mother 3 again.

A real triumph in Mother 3, compared to many games, is the feeling of its world as an actual setting, not just a necessary existence. It's something I'd like to call the "dungeon syndrome". I've always had this weird feeling that in many games, RPGs specifically, you'll find yourself in the depths of some dungeon and basically; the only reason for this dungeon to exist is for something (or someone...) to be there when you get to the end.

Mother 3's dungeons and locations are simply backdrops to the story folding out. The forest which catches fire in the first chapter, and its form later, after the fact, is an important part of the game's story. There are many instances of this, with every location in the game.

The best, and truly most interesting part of Mother 3 is the incredible battle system. I'm going to tote this as an important kind of thing because it should stand as an example. In the days of battle systems called the BEAT system (this stands for Battle Exalted Action Type (which is basically four words of completely stupid bullshit (this stupid acronym is from the terrible Star Ocean: The Last Hope)), Mother 3 doesn't call its system anything. It is just what it is. It is still, deep down, the battle system that the series has been using (which is basically the battle system of Dragon Quest) since its conception with one major twist (although it is possible to play the game without ever using it); the ability to time attacks to the music for increased hits.

A lot of people misconceived what this was going to be before the release of the game, thinking it was going to be straightforward and easy to take advantage of. Just remember a basic rhythm, and tap it out every time you attack. It is not like that at all, thankfully. It's incredibly engaging and proper use of it can basically destroy the need to grind at all. No need to pointlessly battle, over and over again, to gain a level and get a bit stronger. If you've got the groove, you're set.

Getting the groove isn't the easiest thing! Some of the battle music (which there is lots of and it is very, very good.) is pretty simple to grasp the first time. Later, you'll get into a fight and hear the first few bars of a song you've assumed yourself to know the beat to, yet now there's a small little change. What could have been a simple 4/4 timing has now been twisted into some strange math rock time signature that you're probably never going to master perfectly. Get ready to guess. Get ready to wear your headphones and truly sit there and listen to the song. That's one thing I'll recommend, Mother 3 needs to be played with headphones. Whether you're playing the fanmade English translation (which I'd love to link, but there are some legality regards here that I don't wanna get involved in) or the original Japanese GBA cartridge, play the damn game with headphones or else you'll never get the full value of the rhythm based attacking system. Don't worry if you can't get the groove too well, the game may be a bit harder but it's not insurmountable.

So the bottom line of Mother 3 (for right now; I really want to sit down and write a full length review of it). It is the most worthwhile portable game ever made. It is the life changing experience that many people have claimed to have with other RPGs, except that this one actually is.

Metal Gear Solid 2 (PlayStation 2, 2001, Konami)

Hideo Kojima's postmodern opus, and it's nothing more than a large scale, very well devised and extraordinarily cruel joke. Kojima's Metal Gear Solid had been a success, and so he was pulled into the world of resounding success; a world where you will make sequels until you die, because that's what the public wants out of you.

Why was Metal Gear Solid such a big thing? There are a variety of reasons. It laid an acceptable groundwork for what the stealth genre in 3D should be. It was cinematic, wordy, and confusing, and there was plenty of stuff in there to get captivated by. It had characters that were larger than life, down to earth while at the same time being completely supernatural and over the top. It was a bit of a realistic fantasy.

Gamers are a tricky bunch. When a game's sequel comes out, we want more of the same, but we also want something new so that we're convinced the developer is actually trying. When Metal Gear Solid 2 came out, there wasn't a consensus other than: We want more Solid Snake.

He was cool, wasn't he? Oh man, he was just so damn cool. A beacon of manliness with the best lines, the greatest no bullshit attitude this side of your middle school gym teacher (who never stopped pestering you to do more push ups)...god was he something. I'm sweating and wooing like a high school girl over him at this very moment. I mean, come on!

He's got to be one of the coolest looking protagonists of any video game ever and he does it without a decent haircut. Fuck, look at that mullet!

I possessed something of the world's nearly most fashionable mullet for a few months as of recent. It uh...it wasn't bad.

Solid Snake is the man, and rightfully so. Hideo Kojima knew that most of the people of this opinion had no idea what Snake had been through (Metal Gear? Metal Gear 2? MSX? These were all words of confusion.) and decided that he didn't like the reaction he got from Metal Gear Solid.

So he set out on his plan. We put the disc in our PS2, maybe for the first time, we load up Metal Gear Solid 2. We get a neat little cutscene of Snake jumping off a bridge in the middle of a rainy night, the cool aesthetic running through the scene like the blood in our veins. He lands on a tanker, and this is where we begin.

Where we end, ooh man, that's a different story.

At the end of Metal Gear Solid 2, we're not playing as Solid Snake. Hell, we haven't played as him since the introductory chapter, after that opening cutscene. We're now running through a high tech battleship, Snake by our side; dead seriously wondering why in the hell we're not playing as him!  Why do we desire to play as him so much? Is this truly the man-crush to end all man-crushes?

At the end of the first chapter, Solid Snake "dies". We're given no reason to believe otherwise until the start of the next chapter, where we begin a new mission; decked in a stealth suit and mask, being referred to by the Colonel (our guide and a long running fan favorite character of the series) as Snake. Oh, so we didn't die? We're still Snake, right? Awesome. After a few brief events, Snake...unmasks.

Now, we're Raiden, everyone's bad memory of Metal Gear Solid 2. A man who is everything that Solid Snake isn't, wimpy, whiny, and a pretty boy. We long for Solid Snake's chiseled jawline and his god damn mullet. We already don't like Raiden's good looks and long blond hair. Why did Kojima do this to us?

Because he had something he wanted to prove. He wanted to do what most sequels fear and tread new water. Boldly, he tells the player that they can't have everything they want. He even teases us, bringing Snake back into the plot; operating as a covert agent under the name Iroquois Pliskin (which is a pseudo-reference to Escape from New York, the main character served as inspiration to the Snake character (the Snake name being ANOTHER reference!)). Here he was, this was who we all wanted to play as, yet he was just out of our grasp.

At this point in the review, I'd like to thank Blogspot's page editor for randomly deciding to open something entirely different and erase a few well written paragraphs. That's what I enjoy, being punished for not pressing the Save button every five to ten seconds.

So, what stands out most about Metal Gear Solid 2 in my mind is the fact that its story would not work unless it was a video game. The narrative can only exist as a video game, because Kojima decided to play with the medium to the point where he was shamelessly, mercilessly breaking the fourth wall. Something he dabbled in before (Psycho Mantis' exploits in Metal Gear Solid being the prime example) and after; here is where he was undoubtedly utilizing it the best. It is simply a "video game about video games". Hideo Kojima would go on to make more Metal Gear Solid games, but they simply did not reach the level of this gem. I guess we can blame that on him not wanting to really make them! He's still making them, too! I guess you never give up a good thing, especially if it keeps the bills paid.

and now I get to talk some more about things that may or may not be related to video games

So, five games down and I'm radically off schedule. I said in the first part I'd like to finish this in about a month...yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if this doesn't see an end until near the end of March or beginning of April. To be fair, it's not like I have deadlines outside of those I self-impose on myself, and those can hardly count.

Uh, wow; I thought I'd actually have something to talk about at this point, but apparently for once I don't. I don't know when the third part of this article will be up, but it'll probably feature three games, with the fourth part featuring two again. That's tentative, of course! We could end up with five games in the next part in some gigantic, over the top smorgasbord of video game journalism! Or maybe I'll get a real job (making pizza is not a real job, let's be honest). That's...yeah likely not going to happen any time soon!