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!

The Pretentious Bootlegger

(the creative writing half hour of power. my important games article will be updated hopefully within the week. thank you for your cooperation~)

Day by day, Roger had never even thought about the possibilities that awaited every day when he went to work. He stood behind the counter, serving coffee and light food to any customer who waltzed in off the streets. Mostly, it was police officers; in uniform or out of it, it didn't matter, they seemed to flock to this little cafe with regularity. Two men whom Roger had come to recognize quite easily, Detective Shrinker and his right hand man, Ogilvy. They would always walk casually through the door at around 3 PM and come right to the counter, order two large cups of the house roast, black, and go sit in the booth by the left corner. Ogilvy, on occasions, would order a slice of pie to go with this coffee, Detective Shrinker never got anything other than his large black. They were both intimidating men, Shrinker especially; he was taller than Roger by about three inches, had dark brown eyes and a square jawline. His face was always decorated with light stubble.

Ogilvy's intimidation factor came from his incredibly weaselly looks. He was short and thin with unkempt hair and beady blue eyes. He looked like he was ready to do absolutely anything at any time; an unattended live wire. Shrinker had once told Roger that "yes, he is a bit eccentric...but he understands things that no one else does."

Roger got to the cafe around 12 AM for his shift, coming in out of the rain. It was a calming rain, that gentle rain that predates the coming of summer. The radio weatherman had mentioned that the rainy weather would stick around all day and evening, possibly clearing up later that night. He hung his leather coat in the staffroom and took a minute in the bathroom to clean his face and comb his hair properly. He'd awoken late and was in a rush that morning.

As he walked out and took his spot behind the counter, putting a fresh pot of coffee on, he saw that at that moment, not a single customer was in the store. He poured the last of the older pot into a cup for himself, throwing a bit of sugar and a dash of cream into it, stirring it with a spoon. He took a sip and turned to the kitchen.

"How are the sweets coming along, Mike? And where's Shauna?"

A few seconds of silence followed before a voice resounded back from the kitchen area.

"I'll be out with them in a few minutes, man. Make sure the display's cleaned out so I actually got room for 'em today. Uh, Shauna stepped out for a few. Said she was gonna go down the street and grab a magazine while the store was dead. Figured if anyone came in, I could take care of 'em."

"Alright."

Roger opened up the back of the glass display case next to the cash register. It was relatively clean already, just a few old pieces of paper for the sweets and goodies to rest on. He grabbed them, crumpled them into a bunch and tossed them into a nearby garbage can. He laid out fresh paper in all the spots as the door opened, ringing the bell attached to it.

An average looking girl wearing a short jean skirt and a white top walked in, holding an umbrella in her left hand and a plastic bag in the other. She smiled as Roger peaked up from behind the counter, putting her bag on the ground and pulling out a magazine and a small bottle of Pepsi.

"Hey, you're here, eh? Not like it matters, there still aren't any customers. Weird, isn't it?" she said to Roger, who nodded as Mike came from the kitchen holding a tray of baked goods. As the female walked behind the counter, he placed her drink and magazine near the register and folded her umbrella up, putting it in the staff room. She tied her long brown hair back into a ponytail and joined the other two in bringing the baked goods out of the kitchen, helping Roger with putting them in the display. The whole ordeal took a few minutes, after which the three stood and talked.

"So Shauna...I was wondering if I could get a few days the end of next week off. It's actually kind of important." Roger posed the question with absolute care. Shauna was, despite her niceness, a rather strict employer. She looked at him for a second, then put her head down and tapped her foot rhythmically on the floor.

"What days?"

"Just Saturday and Sunday. My family's having a little get together with my new brother in law's family. My sister joked that she'd kill me if I didn't show, though I don't think it was much of a joke." Shauna looked up at him again and eyed him inquisitively. She grinned.

"You're actually telling the truth, aren't you? Most of the time either of you two ask for time off, you're making it up...I'll be able to find someone to fill in for you, yeah. Don't worry about it."

On Tuesdays, it was usually like this. Not many customers, especially early in the morning. Around 1, some people, mostly cops, would come in and order some coffee, sit around for about a half hour and then get back to their patrols. Tuesday had one regular customer, a man named Tim Brown who worked across the street at a small jewelry shop. He would come over, wearing the same brown suit each day (Roger had once guessed he owned five pairs of the same suit) and order two things; a medium cup of the house roast with some cream and a chocolate Danish. He'd sit down, eat the Danish and drink the coffee in about ten minutes; never chatting with any of the employees at the counter while he made his order and disappear as fast as he'd came in.

Around 1:30, the door opened and that familiar brown suit walked in, today holding a brown leather suitcase in his left hand. He adjusted his glasses with his free hand and walked up to the counter.

"Oh, hey. Same as usual today?" Roger asked.

"Uh, no thanks. Not today, I'm actually in the mood for something a bit different." Roger was a bit stunned. After a few seconds, Tim spoke again.

"Same coffee, please. I'm kind of tired of the Danish, though. Let me take a quick look, alright? Thanks."

Tim started scanning the sweets display, looking for something that would catch his eye. After around a half minute of deliberation, he decided that he'd go with a slice of apple pie today. He fetched some money out of his wallet, paid for his two items, received them and sat in his usual spot. That was the most Roger had ever heard the man speak at one time.

Ten minutes later, Tim got up and wiped at his face with a napkin. He brought his cup and plate up to the counter, unusual behavior for himself. He placed them near the register and also threw a few dollars down as a tip for the staff. He smiled at Roger.

"That's real damn good pie, kid. Tell your baker that I'm impressed." Roger was a bit too dumbfounded to respond back properly, so he just nodded his head and smiled back at Tim. Tim went back to his spot for a second, grabbed the briefcase and walked out the door. Already, this was becoming a day that was firmly out of the ordinary. It was to get stranger.

Tuesdays were the only weekday were the pair of Shrinker and Ogilvy did not show. None of the staff could surmise why that would be, but never did the duo appear on a Tuesday.

At a few minutes after 3 PM, Ogilvy walked in through the door, wearing a cream colored sweater and a baseball cap. His shoes were caked in mud. He came up to the counter.

"Hey kid. Uh, tell me...you ain't seen my buddy around here, eh? You know who I mean, right?" he asked Roger, with some nervousness pervading his voice. He swallowed heavily as he waited for the answer.

"No, I haven't. I never see either of you two on Tuesdays, ever. What's the matter?"

"Oh...uh, nothing. Just wondering. We're actually both off duty on Tuesdays, but we were agreeing to meet today, here. Just like usual, really. Can I get my usual?" Ogilvy's eyes were darting around as he spoke to Roger. He seemed more high strung than usual. He paid for his items and took his spot in the left corner, sipping his coffee quietly and only eying his slice of pie.

Quarter after, Roger remembers it well, he happened to be glancing at the clock when Detective Shrinker walked in through the door. He looked like he always did, large and powerful. His stubble was present and he was dressed in his usual fare. His shoes, too, were caked in mud. Had the rain picked up outside? Roger wanted to ask, but Shrinker didn't come to the counter, he only went to the corner and sat down with his partner. He was staring across the booth's table at him. Ogilvy, however, was still eying the slice of pie he had bought. Shrinker's voice was hushed as he spoke, and Ogilvy responded in kind. Roger couldn't make out their conversation.

They were there quite a while. It was almost 4 PM when finally Shrinker took the pie, ate it himself, and the two stood up. They left, unceremoniously. Roger felt a strange surrealism in the air, like none of this had ever happened. Or if it did, it happened in some strange alternate dimension. The next three hours were just a hazy, undirected dream. Roger left at 7, grabbing his coat from the staff room and bidding farewell to Julie, who'd came in around 6 to run the store's night shift. Shauna and Mike had already gone, although Roger couldn't quite piece together when. Everything since that slice of pie disappeared, courtesy of Detective Shrinker had made little objective sense. It was...it was too strange.

Oddly enough, it had stopped raining.