There are a few things we need to be clear on, sincere reader, if we are to be friends.  One:  I like to read.  Books, plays, comics, essays… anything with words that say something.  Two:  I take a lot of surveys.  At some point I was nice to a telemarketer and now I get about a dozen survey invitations in my inbox every day.  Three:  I love looking at pictures of tiny dogs on the internet.  Only the first two are really relevant to this blog entry, but all three are good to know in case the police ever need your help piecing together a psychological profile.

I was just taking a survey that I found particularly interesting.  It was about video games, specifically the qualities of realism in which they contain.  Here are screenshots of some of the questions.  I’m sure posting these are totally against the terms of service provided by the survey company, but I’m a rebel.  Click on any of the images to see them full size.

Well, obviously you have to exclude magic.  Magic should only be considered when you need to negate Superman’s powers and you just did a kryptonite issue.

This is a very loaded question.  For relatively obvious reasons.

Hmm, “high school” isn’t an option for some reason.

Toronto has been severely neglected as a backdrop for first-person shooters.

I’m not sure why “spouse takes the kids and gets the hell out of there” isn’t an option.

A game tailored to my preferences wouldn’t feature weapons at all, but I’m probably in the minority with that one.

It’s quite clear that the characteristics of realism defined by this survey are a bit different than my own.  When I think of “realism,” I picture literary Realism… the type of realism with a capital R.  Unembellished portrayal of life and all that.  Odes to the unexceptional and the ordinary.  Literary Realism is more or less tied directly to the evolution of theatrical Realism, as is the tendency of these -isms.  And theater is where the money is.

Henrik Ibsen is sort of an important figure in theatrical Realism.  And by “sort of,” I mean dude totally.  He wrote the rules for this stuff before anyone else realized there needed to be rules, almost the same way Wagner invented video games a century before they came into being.  More than just defining realism through his early work, Ibsen helped with developing a criteria for distinguishing art from entertainment.   That is, he hypothesized that art speaks directly about social issues and will challenge them, while entertainment dresses up such issues as symbols or avoids them completely.   If the critical gaming world has the goal of establishing games as art, shouldn’t we be examining this guy a bit more closely?

Clearly, there is work to be done.

One of the potential sources of trouble when taking a traditional Realist approach to games is that such narratives could be a bit boring.  Most titles feature fantastic plots and embellished characters because they are engaging over long periods of time.  Games with a narrative focus lean on conflict and a Joseph Campbell hero to hold the player’s attention… the sort of elements which stand in conflict to the goals of Realism.

Rockstar Vancouver’s Bully is a wonderful example of what is possible when combining games and Realism. I racked my brain trying to think of suitable examples available on home consoles, but this is the one I kept coming back to.

Breaking it down, Bully is a high school simulator.  The player attends classes, explores the campus and engages in social activities with other students.  There is a structured narrative that is told through cut-scenes and assigned tasks.  The antagonist, Gary, is remarkably well written… he is paranoid, antisocial, and generally disturbed in the way that most teenagers are.  The central conflict of the game arises from his paranoia:  the player character, Jimmy, is new to school and is befriended by Gary.  After a while, Gary suspects Jimmy is conspiring against him due to Jimmy’s passive nature and begins to engineer his social ruin.  There’s actually a lot going on here, and it all feels quite real.

The fantastic elements emerge through the interactivity; that is, mini-games as a way of progression.  Obviously acing Chemistry is not normally accomplished by participating in a rhythm game, but as these segments exist as supplements to the main narrative, should they be required to conform to the same Realist guidelines?  Should there be a clear distinction between the “game” and the “story”, or should they be fundamentally unified?

I feel inclined to also mention the Graveyard by Tale of Tales.  This has been covered indepth elsewhere, so you should go read that if you want a full analysis.  I will add one point:  the only difference between the trial (free) version and the full (commercial) version of the Graveyard is that the full version adds the risk of death.  Some advocates of Realism feel that death moves a narrative away from the real and towards the superficial or extraordinary, potentially negating a work’s function as art and transforming it into entertainment.  It’s interesting to consider the monetized version of the software’s inclusion of such a device as a statement on the mixing of business and art, but most likely that statement was not intended by the developers.

Trying to take the principals behind a very old artistic movement and apply them to a relatively young medium is difficult.  There are many factors at play here, and I can rant on endlessly.  But, honestly, there are pictures of tiny dogs to be looked at.

Look at that!  He is so tiny!  So… real!

The first was in September of 1989.  I remember it well, because I bought it with some of the allowance money I had saved up over the summer so I could show it off to all the kids at school during our first week back.  When I was a kid, game magazines were status symbols.   The kid with the latest issue of Nintendo Power was everyone’s best friend.  That kid was the informant, the person you went to when you needed a cheat code or when your mom would only get you one new game for your birthday and you needed opinions.

In 1989, magazines were not given a quick once-over and tossed aside as they are today.  They were systematically consumed.  There were rituals involved.  Each word and image had meaning, each word and image had to be absorbed.  This was before the internet, so every turn of the page was something new.  “Oh my God!  Battletoads!  What the hell is a Battletoad?”  It was awesome.

My first EGM issue had Fabio on the cover.  Seriously.  It was some promo image for the Wizards & Warriors sequel.  In 1989, these things were okay to to put on the cover of a game magazine.  I didn’t really think about the cover when I bought it.  It’s a magazine about gaming!  I just wanted to be cool, and that magazine was my ticket to the top.

Well, guess what:  kids may care about gaming magazines, but they care about their perceived sexuality even more.  “Dude, is that Fabio?  Gay!  I’m not reading that.  Get out of here, lard ass.”  Oh, I should mentioned that everyone called me “lard ass.”  Because I was fat.

Children can be so cruel!  How the hell did little kids even know who Fabio was?  I guess it’s just one of those things that everyone is aware of, like orange juice or death.  My copy of EGM and I were rejected by my peers.   That jerk Mark Schlosser down the street had a subscription to Nintendo Power, so they didn’t even need me.

It didn’t matter.  Fabio’s frightening scowl kept me company.  I stayed up late studying previews for Double Dragon 2 and analyzing the review for Friday the 13th (which was even panned back then, if I recall correctly).  My little brother, Maxwell, wasn’t old enough to read yet, so I had to vocalize the reviews for him.  “This game is packed with hidden surprises, special options and much more!”  That sounds like something I would say.  He would normally reply with “well, I guess I should buy that game” as if he had the money to buy games.  He was, like, two years old.  Now he works at the deli section of a supermarket and spends all his money on drugs.

My last issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly was the January 2009 issue.  It had Hugh Jackman on the cover.  That’s worse than Fabio, right?  I don’t think it matters… today’s child gets his gaming fix from Kotaku, not EGM.  The coolest kid on the playground is the one that can show you how to get porn on your PSP.  Modern six year olds are too busy having babies and doing meth to worry about old media.  Times have changed!  Which is why I’m going to miss EGM.

EGM has gone downhill a bit during it’s lifetime, but it was still something I enjoyed.  Not just because I love print media, but because of all the memories from my childhood.  Part of why I play video games is because I miss being a child.  Things were clear and simple; I didn’t have to worry about student loans or where I was going to live or what that lump is.  I just had to worry finishing Metroid quickly enough to see Samus without her helmet.  So when EGM shuts it’s doors a month shy of their 20th anniversay and everyone is laid off in the shittiest way possible, it hurts.  It’s like a segment of my childhood disappeared, replaced by the uncomfortable feeling that accompanies adulthood.  I hope all those people can find jobs.

The worst part of this is that Game Informer now has no competition in North America.  What a shitty publication.  Someone needs to ressurect the Gamer’s Quarter.

There are, of course, excuses to be made as to why certain games are not on this list.  I had issues with Braid, found LittleBigPlanet boring, and have refrained from providing in depth commentary on Grand Theft Auto IV due to fear of ostracism. Other games such as Dead Space, Fable II, Fallout 3, Metal Gear Solid IV and Cabela’s Big Game Hunter I haven’t played at all due to lack of funds. The whole idea behind a definitive “best games” list is somewhat flawed because no individual can play every game from a given calendar year and manage evaluate them all. We rely on filtering services: the best games of what we have been told are the best games, or the best games that we were to access on chance. Same with any other medium. And now, with the world collapsing, being able to afford even a fraction of the big games is becoming quite difficult. “Best Video Games Of 2009″ may end up being replaced by “Best Games That Can Be Played At Your Walmart Parking Lot Campsite Using An Incomplete Deck Of Cards For 2009.”

Comparing my top games of 2008 with those of more reputable media outlets (and even the ultimate authority on such things), the truth becomes clear: I must hate video games. How could GTA IV not be the best game ever made? I’m not a real gamer. I might not even be a real person because of this! I’m probably part of an alternate reality game for some upcoming casual title.  Which would be awesome, because then I’d get a paycheck out of this.

So, I present to you the only list you will ever need (from this particular individual on this particular subject at this particular moment).

5. PixelJunk Eden (PSN)

I ran my mouth on this one already (even awarding it the coveted Cute Baby Seal grade in my Zoo Review) and it’s still a wonderful game. The goals are clear, the mechanics are simple and the presentation is arresting. PixelJunk Eden is the perfect distraction when you need to kill twenty minutes, but becomes damn near enlightening when other players join in for a night of Spectra hunting. This is what I want my console gaming experiences to be like.

4. The World Ends With You (DS)

Surprise, suckers! A roleplaying game came out of Japan featuring original ideas. Not only that, it was published by–brace yourself!–Square-Enix. The World Ends With You does so many things right that it’s easy to overlook some minor flaws. Yes, the protagonist is still annoying and could impale a moai with his hair. But there’s a difficulty slider! And dual-screen combat! And digestion mechanics! Someone at Square-Enix probably got fired for this one, because they somehow released a game that’s flexible and enjoyable. There’s a lot of great ideas here that RPG developers should take note of. If you’re somehow unfamiliar with The World Ends With You, just go to your favorite gaming blog and look at the entries for the month of May to find more information… I’m sure everyone on the planet has raved about this game by now.

3. Boom Blox (Wii)

For about two months prior to the release of this game I walked around the house screaming “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM BLOOOOOOOX!” to whomever would listen (confused dachshunds, mainly).The premise alone was enough to get me excited… use the Wii remote to throw virtual balls at virtual blocks. How could that be bad? Answer: it can’t. Simplicity wins again. The visceral thrill of such an act is enough to transform anyone into a wide-eyed child. If Wii Sports is a gateway drug to gaming, Boom Blox is meth-infused supercool dipped in formaldehyde. Except, uh, it probably wouldn’t kill you. Maybe if you smoked the physical disc… I’m sure some sort of deadly dioxin would be release from the plastic as it melted. So don’t do that. I need to make a conscious effort to stay away from analogies in the future.

2. Mystery Dungeon: Shiren the Wanderer (DS)

This would have been at the top of my list if it weren’t a port of an ancient SNES title. I love Shiren and I’ve written a bit about it in the past. This game is the perfection of a genre (the genre being graphical roguelike); I can’t recommend it enough. If you’re not familiar with roguelikes, Shiren the Wanderer is a wonderful introduction. It’s brutally difficult, as it should be, but contains enough progression to keep your attempts from feeling futile. However, a lot of critics weren’t willing to accept a game that didn’t conform to their expectations; i.e., wasn’t just another JRPG. That’s a shame, because Shiren completely tanked in the US. Japan just got a sequel, and now Sega has no plans to localize it due to poor sales. You can now find Shiren for about ten dollars used, so, please, I urge you: give it a try.

1. Professor Layton and the Curious Village (DS)

I did not expect this. Professor Layton looked intriguing at best prior to its release. Then I actually tried it and lost ten days to a blur of whimsical mental exercise. There are puzzles in the game, and those puzzles are great. There’s a story in the game, and that story is interesting. So you have great puzzles and an interesting story. That’s good enough for most games, right? Professor Layton takes it to the next level by actually integrating the two, so that the core of the story revolves around why every douchebag in the village presents the player with a brain teaser. That’s the key here: integration. Every element of the title feels so considered, from the music to the setting to the joyful art style. It feels cohesive and complete. And it’s not above making the player feel a bit stupid. So plus one for having some balls.

Looking at this list, it’s quite apparent that I’m some sort of crazed radical that can’t play by the rules. My rampant disregard for overproduced disc-based games is probably going to get me killed (when I’m just two days away from gaming retirement, no less). MTV Multiplayer’s Stephen Totilo posed the question “Can a small game be game of the year?” I don’t know why any game should be excluded from such a category… if it’s good, it’s good. I think 2008 was a wonderful year for gaming because of the small games. While gamers may have been disappointed by the franchises and cash cows that normally receive all the critical accolades, more concentrated efforts have captured my heart. True joy can be experienced while on a coffee break. Game of the year should not mean “best M-rated single player game”… it should mean “game of the year.”

Annotated Honorable Mentions: Burnout Paradise (too unexplored),  Korg DS-10 (too useful), Final Fantasy Fables: Chocobo’s Dungeon (too Final Fantasy), Blast Works: Build, Trade & Destroy (too expressive), Wii Fit (too big for the controller basket), Baroque (too creepy), Culdcept Saga (too broken), Art Styles: Orbient (too remade), Lost Winds (too short), Mystery Case Files: MillionHeir (too already-on-my-PC), LOL (too underrated), Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness (too much of a mouthful), Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe (too Mortal Kombat), Persona 4 (too new) and Wipeout HD (too seizurey).

For the past week or so I’ve had my personal computer hooked up to my roommate’s 40″ HDTV in the living room. Mainly for the purpose of watching a few streaming movies comfortably from the couch together, but mostly because such an act is goddamn awesome. When you’re a massive geek the first order of business for something like this is re-experiencing all the stuff you encounter in your everyday life. For example, Facebook is no different on a big TV than on a tiny monitor (other than being barely legible), but for some reason it’s a thousand times cooler to view it that way. Same with YouTube or any thing else. And, of course, eventually I gave the shout of “I need to play some computer games on this thing!”

Then I realized that I don’t have any computer games.

See, PC gaming and I have a bit of a history. Alongside the NES, it was my first real platform. Sierra and Lucasarts adventure games were a staple of my childhood, something that I can probably blame my bizarre problem solving skills on (and I’m sure Leisure Suit Larry caused complications for some other developmental skills that I won’t mention). These games were interesting, unique worlds that I couldn’t experience anywhere else. They also ran off of floppy disks, so you just had to pop it in and type ‘a: run.exe’ and you’d be set.

Then things started changing. CD-ROMs slowly replaced disks and brought with them the dreaded mandatory install. As my family couldn’t afford to upgrade our poor old Tandy 1000, I began to get my gaming fix almost exclusively from consoles (which, when compared to computer components, were dirt cheap). At some point I studied in Doom II, the Seventh Guest and Myst, but the details of those encounters are blurred by memories of Mario and Sonic. I learned that there was a lot of interesting stuff I could do on a computer that wasn’t related to gaming, and it became easier to segregate the electronic devicesin my life. Besides, when available hard disk space is measured in megabytes deleting funny GIFs and fake bomb recipes to make room for a new game install just doesn’t seem worth it.

So then now: I can count my recent computer gaming experiences on one hand.

HalfLife 2, which I was pumped for, was the first PC game I had purchased in years. I was disappointed to learn that it required some ridiculous (and now commonplace) remote authorization. In order to play the single player game, I needed an internet connection… something that, in my college days, was an extravagant luxury. Some of my friends hauled their gaming rigs to the house of that one kid who had DSL… I just waited a few weeks and downloaded a crack from the school’s computer lab. I was a strange feeling to be using illegal means to enable the use of something I owned. I imagine many PC gamers feel this way in the present.

A couple years later, I was at Target buying towels or something when a certain title called to me from an endcap. ‘Star Wars: Empire At War.’ Oh, how sweet it sounds. The back of the box informed me that it was a real time strategy game, but it was also Star Wars. It had land battles and space battles. Controlling fleets of AT-ATs, arranging X-wings in various attack formations, even using the Death Star to wipe out entire planets… I had to have it. I bought it, went home, blew off all my plans for the night and locked myself in my bedroom, all the while concocting elaborate schemes to rule the galaxy with a doctrine of fear. After a lengthy install, I eagerly click the launcher on the desktop and… my computer powers down. I restart, and at the Windows loading screen it shuts off again. I repeat this activity many times. I can boot into safe mode, but that’s it. I uninstall Empire at War and it still won’t start. So I go out and get drunk, deathly afraid that all my schoolwork has been corrupted by an unnatural pursuit of leisure.

The next weekday I call LucasArts (er, Lucasfilm Games) tech support line to figure out what’s going on. They walk me through a bunch of different stuff and deduce that there’s a conflict between my sound-card drivers and the copy protection software that’s secretly running in the background at any given moment. Their solution? Uninstall my sound-card if I want to play the game. The sound-card I use to record audio and mix my music, the sound-card that otherwise enables me to create things. I think I just hung up the phone, amazed that this was considered a solution. That was the last time I purchased a boxed PC game.

Since then, I’ve had torrid love affairs with freeware titles such as Knytt Stories and in browser games like Peggle. I play a fair amount of interactive fiction, if only because each piece is an extension loaded by a single client of your choice (an interpreter). These are unintrusive entities that can coexist with the important functions of the computer. I can have an indie game minimized with the sound off, then play a few rounds while I’m waiting for an audio mixdown or a video render. Doing such a thing with a traditional PC game would likely result in a massive CPU fire.

People make a big stink about casual games, but I don’t think that label is appropriate. It’s more like transparent games. Games that don’t interfere. The reason games like Rocket Mania and Bejeweled took off isn’t because of some gameplay mechanic that reach a previously untapped market; they became successful because the games became accessible with minimal effort. That audience has always wanted to play games, they just didn’t have the means. They weren’t going to go out and buy a console and they didn’t want to dedicate hard drive space and system resources to the big boxed titles. These are the same people who played the shit out of Minesweeper in Windows 3.1 while on a conference call at work. Technology has advanced to a point where any developer can manufacture a good game in a short amount of time and actually find an audience. My father actually told me about Peggle long before the ‘hardcore’ crowd discovered it. As soon as one Minesweeper player found out that there were these web portals out there featuring games that don’t completely blow (and I firmly believe Minesweeper is a terrible, terrible game) it probably spread through the whole office like lightning. From there, the world!

Mainly, I think it’s interesting to see what computer gaming has become. I find myself more attracted to games such as 9:05 than any big-budget blockbuster. I’m sure I’m missing out on a few key experiences, but a large portion of those titles can be found on a home console, and the rest (in my opinion) aren’t worth the effort.

Wait, what was this entry supposed to be about again? Sorry, I get thrown off topic easily. Anyway… internet porn looks crazy on a 40″ TV.