Me: tall and thin, dark hair, dark eyes, wearing multi-colored Chuck Taylors and a goofy Cosby sweater.
You: gutted box on Gamestop shelf, upside down, partly hiding behind Rune Factory.
I almost didn’t see you. I was just killing some time at the mall before a movie with my buddies. You seemed timid, unsure if you actually belonged there. I know the feeling. Your fashion sense was what caught my eye. You had a classic look… your simple black outfit made me think of Audrey Hepburn, or maybe Clu Clu Land. The bold yellow accents told me that you didn’t take yourself too seriously. And that typeface… cute, unique and charming. The kind of typeface I could stare at every day and not get tired of.
My friends had told me about you. They said you’d be perfect for me. Smart, liberal and with a great sense of humor. That you present an initial air of simplicity, but there’s a level of depth that most guys can’t appreciate. I was unsure. I had just finally gotten over Space Invaders Extreme a few weeks earlier… was I ready for another game so soon?
I had to get going to catch the movie. Almost out the door, I decided to man up and let you know how I felt. I ran back in, grabbed you, and settled up at the register. The cashier smirked at us. “Nice choice,” he told me. He was jealous, and rightfully so.
(You spent the next three hours in the trunk of a car. I hope you’ll forgive me. I normally don’t do that to games, but I was afraid of losing you.)
Later that night, back at my apartment, I took the opportunity to learn more about you. Study your difficulty curves, devote myself to memorizing your form and patterns. Whenever I would think I had you all figured out, you’d change things up on me. You’re a challenge. Not the sort of thing a guy like me seeks to conquer, but something I strive to comprehend and piece together. Something I want to understand and appreciate. I want to learn about you, learn about everything that you are, and figure out what makes you tick.
Normally when I find a new game, my first play through is quick and messy. I pop the cartridge in, then start mashing the A button as much as possible until I find the fun stuff. Not with you. I had patience with you. I read all the dialog, learned the characters, and took my time getting to the action. And when I got a high score, what did I do? I didn’t roll over and go to sleep… I was ready for another go. There’s something special here, I can feel it.
Before I knew it, it was almost dawn. We were up all night fooling around. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve done that with a game. I felt like a teenager again! That was a golden time, those teenage years… when everything was unexplored, when there were discoveries waiting around every corner. Before I learned how incredibly boring most games are. Before I settled for playing a different Pop Cap title every night. Before the crushing disappointment of adulthood stole those transparent pleasures. When I’m with you, things are fun again.
Yes, you remind me of games from my past. Is that wrong? I have good memories of those games… autumn afternoons spent curled up on the couch together, wasting time just because we could. Even if it may have sometimes ended badly, I don’t want to give up those memories. I want a game that reminds me of simpler times. What I loved about those games, I see in you. You’re the complete package I’ve been searching for.
That’s not to say that things will be easy. You’re hard to figure out. I’m sure there will be conflicts, but I promise that I won’t get frustrated or angry. Even when things get difficult. If I’m not up to the challenge? I’ll learn. I’ll change. Just make it clear what you expect from me, and we’ll take it from there.
You’re the rare sort of game that makes me want to be a better player.
I can’t wait to see you again. Tonight, my place? I’ll cook dinner, you think of something fun we can do together. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.
Zoo Review is a monthly feature at Murderblog 3D in which our esteemed review panel pores over the hottest new game and breaks it down into a score that you can understand.
Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts is the fifth game in the Banjo-Kazooie series (sixth if you count Diddy Kong Racing). The initial release in 1998 was heralded as an evolution of Super Mario 64, which is total bullshit if you’ve experienced both games. Whereas Mario 64 was about spectacular environmental design, Banjo-Kazooie focused more on throwing a bunch of meaningless crap in a level and making the player find it all. They both had similar control elements and progression methods, but that’s about it. The newest Banjo-Kazooie title is a subpar platformer as expected with a bit of genius tacked on.
Nuts & Bolts is still a collect-a-thon like the previous Banjo-Kazooie releases, although there are a few additional layers. There are now various methods of transportation that can be fully tweaked and customized. There’s some sort of magic wrench that exists only to remove the player from the action by another step. There is also a narrative that I was not quite clear on, mostly because the dialogue is written out with exaggerated accents (phonetic spellings of mispronounced words and hyphens everywhere). If this bothers you, you can do what I did and imagine that every character is a stroke victim. It gives the cut-scenes a somewhat tragic vibe.
The structure of the game centers around various missions that reward the player with “jiggies.” The progression goes something like this: Finish an activity and get a jiggy. Walk back to the level entrance. In the overworld, locate the jiggy dispenser. Interact with the jiggy dispenser until the jiggy you were just awarded pops out. Carry that jiggy to the jiggy assimilator, then put it down to have your jiggy total updated. I’m still not terribly certain as to what a jiggy actually is. This seems a bit convoluted, no? Please consider the following embedded video.
See that number in the upper left hand corner? Notice how it increases when stuff happens? Very novel for 1979. I imagine a version of Space Invaders developed by Rare would involve the player shooting a ship, taking the points that are awarded and spending eight minutes carrying those points over to the score board.
This is not the worst of it, though. The platforming becomes an unbearable experience due to the inclusion of additional game play components. Each level is massive and barren, with points of interest as far apart as possible. It takes a very long time to walk your avatar from point A to point B. This is because the developer wants to enforce a reliance on vehicles. The player is supposed to think “hey, I need to hop in my golf cart thing if I want to get to that destination before the Xbox overheats.” It makes me wonder why there is any platforming element at all; if ninety percent of the game involves vehicular tasks, why not ditch the ten percent that doesn’t and refine the focus? There is nothing wrong with trimming out what doesn’t work and making a simple and polished experience.
It may seem like I’m being a bit hard on this game. I am, mostly because it’s not very good. There is however, one redeeming factor, and the reason why I’m bothering to write about it at all: vehicular creation.
I am normally not a fan of games that hinge on the creative abilities of the player, but Nuts & Bolts has a nice balance to it. The game world is already set in stone and the expressive element comes from designing ways to traverse that world. I greatly enjoyed piecing together vehicles in the workshop and seeing how the physics engine would react. Making a long vehicle with two springs on the back and trying to do somersaults was wonderful. This element made me wonder: why does the game need all that other stuff? Why can’t it just be an open world Pimp My Ride?
You don’t need jiggies or notes or any of that other stuff; the sole collectible element should be more vehicle components. Scatter them around levels and have them only be accessible by using certain vehicle configurations. Lose the avatar and put the player directly in control of an automobile that can be adjusted on the fly. This could be Burnout Paradise with the option of modifying your transport when you want to explore. This could be beautiful!
Let’s look at some supplemental materials. This is a Venn diagram illustrating the relationship between various game play elements that are really awesome.
Notice how there’s no circle for “BABY TALK” or “UNNECESSARY COLLECTIBLES” or even “ANTHROPOMORPHIC BEARS THAT YOU WANT TO PUNCH IN THE FACE?” That’s because they’re not required to have a really awesome game. You can do this, developers. Make this game and I promise you will get sixty dollars from me.
Summing it up: playing Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts has now sparked the fantasy of a Lego Burnout title, so I guess it can’t be all bad.
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!
I can most certainly remember the first issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly I had purchased. And, unfortunately, I can remember the last.
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.
The dance is as follows: make a blog post about your top games, then wait for a legion of fanboys to try and peg your console bias or dismiss your worth as a human being because Game X isn’t on the list. This is a requirement for anyone who has a blog and plays video games. It’s a good way to increase your readership… in weird kind of way. Sort of like how shooting Ronald Regan is a good way to get a girlfriend.
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).
Because, you know, I can be quite imprudent when it comes to these things.
I didn’t really have anything to do last night, so I figured I would watch the fourth annual Spike TV Video Game Awards. Unlike the Oscars, which are voted on by members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the VGA winners are chosen by an undisclosed panel which may or may not be the Gamestop board of directors. I found the show to be incredibly eye opening, so I figured I’d share some highlights with everyone.
1. The Atrocious Opening Musical Number. I wish there was a video I could link to for this. Jack Black and some other obese gentlemen defend themselves against reading, exercise and healthy relationships. Everyone is clad in underwear and stained white t-shirts, the devil is repelled by an ejaculation of sparks and flames, and the narrative of GTA IV is suggested to be comparable to actual literature. I’m so glad all of this was crammed into the first few minutes of the show: the curious television viewer could confirm their theories of gamer culture and switch back to CSI Miami reruns without missing anything.
2. Two Hours Worth Of Objectification. The opening set the tone for the rest of the evening: Wii Fit is what you buy your girlfriend so she can have “a sweet ass,” and females only exist to prevent men from doing the things they enjoy. Categories were announced with camera fly-throughs between the legs of a woman wearing a shiny one-piece body suit (more like a half-piece, really). Awards were presented by what could be considered literal feminine objects lowered by wire onto the stage; they were completely silent, covered in silver body paint and decorated as trophies themselves. It’s amazing to think that this is somehow a step up from the proceedings of the previous year. Spike TV seems to be unaware that video games are played by people other than adolescent males on the verge of transitioning into a career in serial murder. Guess what: not only do women play games, but so do men who are capable of respecting women. Crazy concept. I half expected a montage highlighting the working girls of Liberty City.
3. Jack Black Having Intercourse With Game Consoles. I suppose there were elements of this segment that were reasonably amusing, but the premise didn’t seem to make much sense. While fornicating with an Xbox 360 and a PS3, a Wii caught him in the act. The Wii was indicated to represent his wife and an onlooking DS Lite his son. I suppose the consoles were symbolic of their primary audience? Using logic like that, he would have been having sex with a foul-mouthed 14 year old boy and someone’s introverted technophile uncle.
4. Confirmation On The Watchmen Game Regarding Quality. Yeah, that world premiere trailer was something, alright. Gamestop is probably quite sad that they couldn’t add a “PREORDER NOW!” blurb at the end of the trailer due to it being digitally distributed. Now our economy will never recover.
5. Sorrow Is Fueled By Dew. I’m not sure how “Independent Game” and “Sponsored By Mountain Dew” ended up in the same sentence.
6. Mike Tyson. The parental advisory warning at the beginning of the show did not mention his appearance.
7. The Big Name In The Game. There’s an award that goes to the biggest celebrity who did voice work in a video game this year. This is unrelated to “Best Vocal Performance.” Ridiculous in and of itself, but how does Jenny McCarthy win over Dame Judi Dench? Next year I hope to see a category called “Biggest Residual Paycheck.”
8. Realizing That These Awards Are All Bullshit. The majority of awards were presented in a thirty second montage before a commercial break. So we get an extended musical number by LL Cool J to introduce a world premiere trailer featuring no actual gameplay, but the awards themselves get relegated to a speedy voice over announcement? Here’s the deal, Spike: I’ll start taking this stuff seriously when you do. The fact that awards were given out based on hype rather than merit didn’t help, either.
9. Having To Watch This To See Tim Schafer. I suppose there is one thing Spike TV understands about gamers: we are foolish fanboys who will put up with anything just to see even a sliver of information on a new title. I’m still not clear on if Brutal Legend will be any good, but I got to see a brief trailer introduced by Tim Schafer himself. I should probably go out and buy some Mountain Dew to support the game.
10. Being Bothered Enough To Write A Blog Entry. I am only contributing to the problem. I need to get a hobby to distract me from my hobby.
Please be sure to understand what your source material is actually about before adapting it into a video game.
Big Jim Murderbloggins
I’ve been unemployed for a little over a month now, with absolutely no job prospects and very little money to my name. This means I have a lot of free time. I’ve been trying to figure out what the average vocationally impaired american does instead of working. I tried drinking in the morning (I saw that one on TV), which, by the afternoon, I realized was a very bad idea. I tried growing a beard, which was an even worse idea… now my Xbox Avatar looks like a creepy junior college lit professor. I considered writing the great American novel, but more than a few have already walked that path. I was at a loss.
Then, during my family’s annual Thanksgiving circus event, I got to talking with my cousin Timothy. He’s a few years older than me and recently completed his Master’s in English language and literature. Needless to say, he’s been looking for a job since April. I’m going stir crazy after a month; I can’t even imagine going that long without doing something. His secret? World of Warcraft. “That’s ten hours a day right there.” Oh, Timothy.
I can’t imagine that’s what the average jobless fellow does with all his free time, but I’m sure there are many like my cousin out there. I’d venture a guess that some are unemployed because they play World of Warcraft. The fifteen bucks a month subscription fee isn’t too hard to swing. That’s, like, only four ounces of plasma.
A Confession: I have never played a massively multiplayer online game. In fact, I’ve actively avoided them. The whole grind-until-you-die-from-exhaustion angle never appealed to me. I mean, trying to balance an extremely addictive game alongside my job, my girlfriend and my social life would have been hell. I could barely find the time to play twenty minutes of Bomberman after work as it were.
Now I don’t have a job or a girlfriend or a social life. My days consist of scratching my hideous beard and staring at the phone, waiting for some big firm to call me and say they have a position open. Which, FYI, isn’t going to happen. Perhaps the time has come for me to take the plunge and become one of those people.
So, as if by some divine magic, I received an email last week from Atlus inviting me to beta test a new MMORPG. “Shin Megami Tensei: Imagine. ” It could be nothing other than fate! Or maybe the fact that I’m on the Atlus mailing list and they sent a beta key to every subscriber. Either way, I knew what I had to do.
Some Background: Megami Tensei — or MegaTen, as hopeless romantics will refer to it — is a long running series of Japanese roleplaying games. There are, seriously, like a million different titles. Not many were released in North America, but the Persona sub-series has gained a bit of a following (I consider Persona 3: FES to be one of the finest roleplaying games I have ever experienced). The quality that sets Megami Tensei games apart from the average JRPG is that they are not terrible… there are no elves or ultimate troll swords or undying gods that happen to resemble the protagonist’s father. Thematically, most MegaTen titles are set in modern day and the player has to fight demons and junk. It’s different, which is probably why the series has attracted an audience.
I downloaded the Shin Megami Tensei: Imagine client, installed it and created my account. Things can only get better from here.
A.D. 20XX TOKYO
In the aftermath of the Great Destruction, those who survived constructed shelters, waiting for the day when they would rebuild their city.
Led by the Seven Philosophers these survivors constructed a massive tower.
This tower came to be called Shinjuku Babel.
Having lost their homes, the remaining survivors took refuge in an underground city called
Third Home. This is where you learn the skills and techniques to be a Demon Buster.
Okay then! That text is all the backstory I get before I’m dumped at a menu screen. The game boldy announces “You will be able to create a new character.” The music is actually fairly interesting, despite being a twelve second loop. Before I can be able to create my character, I have to chose a world in which to inhabit. I guess such is the norm for MMOs? Different servers and all that? I only have one choice: Cerberus. How goth.
I name my character ‘Evil Tom Waits.’ Both the male and female character models look identical, except or the male being a bit more feminine. All the hairstyles are hilariously douchey. I choose ‘mushroom,’ hoping to make Evil Tom Waits resemble Edith Head. Not quite.
I’m pretty anxious to play, so I leave most of the options untouched and click start game. “You can not create a character with that name.” No explanation why. I try taking off the last name (maybe there’s some sort of celebrity defamation filter in place), but no go. “Pussycat Central” doesn’t work either. Nor does Zachary or any of my online handles. I get frustrated and start entering random phrases until I find one that’s acceptable. So, uh, Bob Murderville it is.
Start game! A computer terminal tells me that Murderville has to investigate Home II at once. No exposition or anything… I like that. Then some blocky chick in a visor says the same thing. I’m finally in the game and the amount of stuff on the hud is overwhelming. I approach a lion thing named ‘Unseasoned Cerberus’ who exclaims “I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.” The visor chick starts talking about demon busting and saving citizens and… oh! She’s a SLUT (Systematic Linear Unavoidable Tutor). You know, the sort of NPC that you have to put up with for a while to learn how to play the game. The kind with no varying dialog and a throwaway personality. This is the opposite of something like Link’s Awakening, which features DICs (Detail Instance Coaches); multiple NPCs who subtly relay information about the controls and game mechanics. I swear that these are real acronyms and not something I made up just now to keep this post interesting. Anyway, tell me how to use the camera, SLUT!
She teaches me to move around and says I should check out the elevator. I check out the elevator. “The elevator is broken.” I go back to the visor chick. She says to go down the hallway. I go down the hallway. A dialog box warns me that I’m on my own from this point forward. Um… okay? I guess all I really need to know is how to move around. Fade to black.
“ACT 0: THE SIN OF WEAKNESS.”
Except I’m not on my own. The visor chick is somehow in the next room giving first aid to a rambling solider. “I could have saved them… if it weren’t for those darn demons!”
So far this game is unbelievably boring. The rooms are so big in relation to my character that it takes an unnecessary amount of time to move from place to place. I understand the need for a tutorial sequence (as there are a million weird buttons on the screen and the documentation is a bit lacking), but can’t something interesting happen? Shoddy flow is a breaking point for most titles; poor pacing in the first few hours of a game is unforgivable. And this is an MMO… shouldn’t I be able to interact with other people by now?
No one seems to be around. I imagine that most massively multiplayer games confine the player in such a manner during the introductory segments.
The next room has a monster in it. It’s a green slime. Left click to target, left click again to attack. Click haphazardly in rapid succession for more efficient attacks. I kill that thing dead. The following room has three slimes in it instead of one! These rooms are seriously way too big. I kill a purple monster in the adjacent room and level up. Entering the status window lets me assign ability points. Fairly straightforward. I pump it all into intelligence. Bob Murderville is obviously lacking in that area if he’s running around battling monsters by himself in an MMO.
A room with a locked door introduces an important mechanic: loot. I find 19 pieces of magnetite on a corpse. It’s kind of refreshing that the game uses actual mineral names instead of magicite or awesomtonium. Still, I wish there was some way to just buy loot using actual currency instead of having to find it in the game. That’d be really convenient. Maybe I can use this magnetite to forge a compass later on, or turn it into a ferrofluid during a challenging chemistry minigame.
A blood stained control panel sits in an adjacent room. Menacing. “A door has unlocked somewhere.” I wonder if it was the locked door from the previous room? I fight some weird ‘Gaki’ monsters and dispatch them quickly. Each one has two band-aids. I have so many band-aids! I was under the impression that “band-aid” a brand name and non-licensed versions had to refer to themselves as “adhesive bandages.” How peculiar. I should probably send an email to Johnson & Johnson letting them know about this possible trademark infringement.
Okay, how the hell was was the visor chick behind the locked door? Maybe she’s a demon! We have a conversation. There are many ellipses involved. “It seems the demons came through… the service entrance.” What the hell kind of post apocalyptic stronghold has a service entrance? That is some seriously poor planning. I make my way to the stupid service entrance.
This extended tutorial is becoming quite tiresome. The Shin Megami Tensei series is known for two things: enjoyable game mechanics and an engaging story. I have yet to experience either of those elements in this online iteration. I’ve been playing an introductory sequence for almost two hours now; the only characters I’ve encountered are paper cutouts lacking in motivation. By this point in the game I would hope that
some sort of lure would present itself, a reason to continue playing. Two hours should be the cutoff for that, right? Instead I’m making my way through a maze of identical rooms filled with identical monsters, hoping for a — HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!
Where did Kali come from? Is she a demon? I thought she was a goddess? What the hell is going on? Why are the subtitles for this scene in a crazy moon man language? The visor chick and Unseasoned Cerberus are dead at Kali’s feet. There’s a strange hissing noise and my character passes out. Fade to white. This game may just have gotten awesome.
Now Mr. Murderville is in some room that… well, looks exactly like all the other rooms. A non-player character tells me about a training computer I have to use to move on. I try it and the NPC goes into SLUT mode. “Let me tell you about controlling the camera.” Wait, what? I’m in another tutorial. What happened to Kali and all the cool stuff? Why do I have to do this again? “Use your basic attack skill to kill five slimes.”
I exit the game.
Somehow, even though I have absolutely nothing better to do, I lack the patience for this. The gameplay proceedings are downright dull… click an enemy, then keep clicking until it dies. Click it’s corpse to get loot. Click on the floor to move forward and find another enemy. I understand that a computer mouse is the primary input device, but c’mon. The mechanics should probably be a little deeper than “click on things until you level up.” This is no different than a button masher. I realize that I spent very little time with the game (in comparison to the average person’s cumulative engagement with an MMO), but I was told by two tutorials that I would not enjoy the primary method of interaction. I’m sure there are all sorts of neat Megami Tensei standards buried in the title, but they’re not worth the repetitive stress injury I’d get trying to discover them.
The comical element here is that I couldn’t stomach the game enough to get to the online portions. You know, the online portions of an online game. I was under the impression that MMORPGs start to suck due to interaction with other players. “Griefing” and all that. Normally the core elements of a title are rewarding enough for people to put up with that sort of aggravation. In the case of Shin Megami Tensei: Imagine, such activities would most likely cause severe emotional breakdowns and destroy entire families.
I realize that the flaws of this game do not reflect the genre as a whole. The issues I encountered have to do with pacing and combat, elements specific to the title. Next week I plan on spending some time with the free trial for World of Warcraft… the end all, be all massively multiplayer game. If I do not enjoy that, I’m probably a lost cause.
Maybe I’m just not cut out for this unemployed wastrel position.
Let’s talk about Watchmen!
If you haven’t read Watchmen: you may not want to read on, because there are minor spoilers in in this entry.
(Also) if you haven’t read Watchmen: please, make it a top priority in the coming months. Not just because I believe it is a beautiful work of fiction, but because any element of surprise will be ruined for you once the movie comes out. Even if you’re not planning on seeing the movie there are plot devices and dialog that will fuel internet memes for the next century. Within six months of the movie’s release America will be overwhelmed by Peter Griffin’s poorly paced conversations with Rorschach and unhappy sitcom wives comparing themselves to Sally Jupiter or something. It’s going to be terrible; gestate the work now while it’s still tolerable.
Watchmen is huge. For me, it was the gateway to Russian literature. I think I was ten or eleven when I first read it. I had been buying tons of Batman books, amazed by how Batman not only lacked superpowers but was also kind of a dick. I asked my local comic book store’s owner (his name was Tom; I can’t believe I remember his name) for recommendations. He said that Watchmen was like “a whole team of Batmen” or some bullshit. I’m sure he could barely contain his fanboyism as a potential convert was within his grasp. Now that I think about it, what kind of guy sells a book about sexually repressed anti-heroes to an eleven year old? No wonder I went goth so early.
Being completely oblivious to that book for a number of years, though, and then nonchalantly purchasing it on a whim… man. It was an experience. I think it’s one of those big moments that will always stick with me: losing my virginity, watching Blue Velvet for the first time, meeting my true love, graduating from high school and discovering Watchmen. Crazy.
As I went from “say, Batman is pretty keen!” to “would Ozymandias’ last monologue be considered a revisionary mythopoesis?” with one trade paperback, I craved more. Other comics weren’t good enough. I grabbed books off my parent’s shelves… I went for the thick ones first, because they had a better chance of containing some meat. Don Quixote, Bleak House, Moby Dick, Tom Jones (in that order!); I recall moving on to a Clockwork Orange, Notes from the Underground, and the Brothers Karamazov at some point before finally settling on Nabokov as my personal hero. I was book crazy! From there I got into film, then painting, then experimental music…
It’s worth noting that when I was eleven years old I wanted to be a lawyer. Now I’m an unemployed artist with an awesome beard. So if you had to trace back a point of deviation for this mirror universe, it’d be when Tom from Pyramid Comics in Levittown sold me a copy of Watchmen decades ago. I don’t think that comic shop is there anymore.
Anyway: the issue at hand.
If you’re reading this blog, I’m sure that you’re aware how our people feel about licensed video games. In short: they are bad. When I had heard that there was going to be a Watchmen game to tie in with the film version, I was very afraid. A few possibilities entered my mind…
Thankfully it’s not that bad. The Watchmen game (creatively subtitled “The End Is Nigh”) is actually an episodic brawler. Alright, that’s still pretty bad. But at least it focuses on events alluded to in the original graphic novel. Players take control of Rorschach or Nite Owl as they battle members of the Topknot Gang throughout the streets of Brooklyn. You know, there’s a reason that these things were only alluded to in the book. Maybe it will, despite being of a somewhat stale genre, excel in the gameplay department? Here’s a quote from the December ’08 issue of Electronic Gaming Monthly, which, according to the spine, is “The Rorschach Issue”…
While the fundamental controls are pretty basic (fast attack, heavy attack, throw, and, depending on the character, block or evade), the potential combos are layered and deep, and the finishing moves are brutal–provided you enter the appropriate quick-time commands when prompted. Additionally, the fighting mechanics are designed so that button mashing will suffice for novice gamers, but more skillful play offers greater rewards, like Rorschach’s counterattacks.
Sweet! Quick time events? Combos? Finishing moves? It’s like they distilled Watchmen to it’s very essence. Wonderful. So, let’s break it down with bullet points.
Watchmen: The Novel is about…
- the manifestation of power in sociological context
- the delusions of Reganism
- visual language as an extension of content
- the motivations of modern cultural archetypes
Watchmen: The Game is about…
- pumping out a Streets of Rage clone to tie in with Watchmen: The Movie and Watchmen: The Lunchbox
Putting aside my personal feelings about Watchmen, I’m mostly perplexed by the need to turn every intellectual property into a franchise. The typical merchandising campaign is spread across so many industries that quality assurance becomes difficult and creative control is nearly impossible. For some properties it may make sense, as Transformers and G.I. Joe are envisioned as franchises and engineered to make as much money as possible in any form. But do we really need a Big Lebowski action figure or a Sopranos bowing ball? If you can be convinced that these tie-ins exist because someone is passionate about the property, you are delusional. They are manufactured because large corporations want to profit off of your enthusiasm.
Licensed video games are especially hurt by this due to the sheer amount of work required. Games that are anything above mediocre take a lot of people, a lot of time and a lot of freedom. Being tied to a license and held to a one year turnaround is a recipe for disaster. Consider: a developer could spend six weeks perfecting a physics system for vehicle suspension only to be told by the license holders “we dropped the car chase, make that section of the game a skydiving level instead.” Do not forget that video games as a hobby almost went away completely as a result of such constrictions.
In the specific case of Watchmen, attempts at building a franchise seem inappropriate. This is a fairly heavy work with subject matter way beyond that of the normal summer blockbuster. I think a good rule is: if the movie you’re making contains a rape scene, don’t manufacture action figures for it. Seeing little kids with Heath Ledger masks on Halloween was weird enough. There’s also the fact that the mass marketing of Watchmen characters was addressed in the book itself.
I’m going to guess that the marketing people have never read the book.
At best, the Watchmen game is going to be a decent brawler that has no business being called Watchmen. I’m curious what will be the next in line for the ill-suited game treatment. If this, of all things, can get a licensed game, where can you really go from there? Lolita: the Official Game? Oh, wait… that’s already a whole genre. Thanks, Japan.
Many proponents of gaming have long speculated as to what the Citizen Kane of video games will be. Considering what Watchmen has done for comic books as a medium, I think that’s a more appropriate comparison. It bothers me that if, a year from now, I ask someone what the think the Watchmen of video games will be, they’ll most likely reply with “Watchmen? Dude, that game sucked.”
Postscript: This is mentioned in the EGM article, but a Watchman game already exists. Not only that… it’s actually quite good, most likely due to the involment of Alan Moore. That’s right: Alan Moore signed off on a game based on his work. The kicker is that it’s an RPG. You know, like, a real RPG… the kind that requires imagination and interacting with other people and basic math skills. Mayfair Games published a sourcebook in 1987, along with two scenario modules–“Taking Out The Trash” and “Who Watches the Watchmen?” I have the modules but have never come across the sourcebook for a reasonable price. There were also lots of lead miniatures to go with it, which I would love to get my hands on. It’s crazy meta, as well; check out the scan below.
A few months ago, Sega opened a new concept restaurant in Tucson, Arizona. It was being billed as a combination of fine dining, sports bar, and arcade. That’s kind of cool, right? Sega is still the market leader when it comes to arcade hardware, so I suppose it makes sense. I know that the arcade market has been hurting in the United States. It’s kind of nice to see Sega taking a risk and trying to revitalize the industry. Arcades may be nearing extinction, but they’re still an important (albeit small) part of American history and I’d love to see them become relevant again.
One of my complaints about arcades has always been the children. Every arcade I’ve visited over the past decade or so has been swarming with small children who can barely reach the controls of most games. I don’t hate kids or anything, but they’re loud and small and you shouldn’t swear around them. How much fun can a game like Street Fighter II be if you can’t scream “FUCK BALL SMACK KHAKI MOTHERFUCK!” when someone breaks your winning streak? The arcades of my high school years were highly competitive environments filled with trash talking, amphetamines and tearful back-alley handjobs. That is no place for a child! Or, um, anyone really. Eastern Pennsylvania was kind of a shithole in the early ’90s, but that played a strong part in defining my arcade experience.
Also, if I wanted to be owned by an eight-year-old in my favorite arcade game I’d just play it on Xbox Live.
So when I heard about Sega’s idea for World Sports Grille, I was thrilled. An arcade that serves alcohol? Awesome. I envisioned old men in cardigans crowded around import cabinets, chewing cigars while a cocktail waitress brings them all whiskey sours, then retiring to a smoky dining room to talk about the stock market and tell dirty jokes. That’s what I want my life to be! That’s my life dream! I look great in a cardigan!
I had to try it before I left Tucson. A friend and I made the fifty minute drive to check it out. We figured that we would grab some dinner, maybe a drink at the bar, then cruise the arcade area and play a few games.
Upon walking in we were greeted by… no one. Three employees stared at us for a few minutes while blabbering into their headsets, never addressing us directly. Normally this wouldn’t be so weird, but in this case the mezzanine was completely empty: Just two customers standing in this massive area waiting for someone to acknowledge them. I had to go up to one of them and make it clear that I wanted a table, which required the guy to talk into his headset for several minutes more, apparently checking with every other employee in the establishment. “Table for two, table for two… hmm hmm hmm… table for two, table for two… chk-chk-chk, table for two… let’s see, table for two…” Maybe it was a new business tactic meant to define the unique experience that World Sports Grille stands for. Like, everyone’s supposed to act like Sonic the Hedgehog and be all about the ‘tude or something.
The host guy finally told us there’d be a 45 minute wait and we were handed a plastic device thing that would play disco music when our table was ready. So we decided to check out the arcade while we waited.
It was not what I was expecting. The arcade was completely segregated from the bar area. Children were everywhere. I immediately realized the concept at work here: mom and dad get drunk at the bar while video games babysit the kids. I was way off base with this one. It was actually really hard to take pictures, because every shot I lined up had a little kid run into frame at the last second (and I don’t want to be one of those people).
Most of the games seemed to be of the racing or light-gun persuasion, with a few rhythm titles near the entrance. I didn’t see a single fighting or puzzle game. Maybe those aren’t in vogue anymore?
RAMBO! I think this title is pretty new. They only had one machine and it was set up in the center of the arcade. The screen was really, really big. Probably sixty inches or so. Scenes from Rambo III played when we started it up and then there was the expected stream of soldiers to pew at. I actually had a lot of fun with this game; it’s a license that lends itself well to a fairly simple genre. Wired’s GameLife blog has an in depth write-up on it if you’re curious.
Worth noting: the guns for the Rambo game were huge, heavy and vibrated violently when fired. It was pretty badass. I really wanted to Rambo it up and use one in each hand, but that would have cost me eight dollars. Screw that.
Another light-gun title, Primeval Hunt, had a little touchscreen for navigation. The game is about shooting dinosaurs with pump action shotguns, as far as I could tell. Two frat boys were glued to the machine the entire time I was there; I don’t think they even so much as glanced at the touchscreen.
There were tons of UFO Catcher and Stacker machines all over the place. I really wanted a Martian Manhunter plush from the machine on the left, but the claw only had two prongs, pretty much guaranteeing no one will ever win a prize. The Stackers had DS Lites, PS2s and lots of autographed sports memorabilia. It cost twelve dollars for one go at the Stacker machine, so you’re probably better off just buying a DS Lite.
Side note: I keep referencing how much each machine costs, but it’s worth mentioning that my math may be way off. See, all credits are purchased using a rechargeable card that players can buy for two bucks (I think it’s called a ‘World Sports Grille Membership Card’). So you pay two dollars and then load additional money onto the card, which gets translated into credits according to some invisible algorithm. I put about twenty dollars on my card and got something like 56.7 credits. That struck me as something of an odd number, but maybe that’s just me. I like to imagine there’s a constantly shifting USD to Arcade Credit exchange rate responsible for this.
I spotted Konami’s Drummania V4: Rock×Rock machine. Kind of intimidating, but I was amazed at how solidly built the hardware seemed (compared to other Konami products). I skipped it and chose a drum simulator a little more suited to my skill level…
Taiko: Drum Master! It’s so Japanese! I had played this on the PS2 at one point, but never with a big ass taiko controller. This is the best game at World Sports Grille, hands down. Even thought one of the drums was smashed up, the Japanese text was perplexing and the ’90s alt-rock from the bar drowned out the music, we had a blast. This is a good example of a video game’s presentation trumping all other elements. I mean, it’s a rhythm game and we couldn’t hear what we were performing, but we still had fun. Those cartoon taikos are just so cute that it’s impossible not to have fun playing the game.
After successfully running through a few songs, a QR code popped up for each player. Since I’m a red-blooded, God-fearin’ American I lack the technology to decipher such forward thinking nonsense. Any idea what function these serve?
At this point the weird gadget in my back pocket started vibrating and playing a monophonic version of Gregg Diamond’s “Take The Boogie Home”, so we made our way to the restaurant area. A host silently lead us to the quiet section, which was located approximately ten inches from the not-so-quiet section. Once again, the experience was not at all how I envisioned it. The main dining room had projectors mounted on the ceiling, covering the walls with various baseball games. I can’t really fault the establishment for that; it’s called the World Sports Grille, after all. But every few minutes the entire dining room would erupt into cheers when something happened in one of the games, making it impossible to have a conversation or even focus on the menu. If I was more into sports I may have found it charming or something.
The Menu: I know this is not that sort of blog, but I feel obligated to talk about the food offerings. The menu is basically identical to what you would find at any American chain restaurant. Everything screamed “pre-packaged,” which I thought was odd considering this was a concept restaurant and not a chain. We ordered some tex-mex rolls for the appetizer, which was supposed to be marinated chicken, corn, avacado and some other junk in crisped flour tortillas. What we got looked like this…
Those aren’t crisped flour tortillas… they’re deep-fried, frozen, then tossed in the fryer once again. Seriously, look at how shiny those things are. There wasn’t a single distinguishable flavor other than grease. The filling was nothing more than a paste that may or may not have contained the items described on the menu. I can’t even come close to describing how bad these things were. Maybe it wouldn’t be so offensive if we were anywhere other than Tucson, where one could walk twenty paces from the restaurant and find a similar item prepared properly for far cheaper.
I was surprised to find tajine on the menu, which is a sort of Moroccan slow-cooked feast. It seemed really out of place alongside the rather plain burgers and salads. I was curious, but didn’t want to wait an hour for my food. Another concern was that it was billed as “authentic Moroccan tajine,” but their prime offering was a shrimp and white fish version, which is about as unauthentic as you can get. Moroccan tajine usually contains lamb or chicken because the fat is an important component for proper braising when using the tajine pot. Maybe I should have made Muderblog 3D a cooking blog. I know way too much about this sort of crap. My parents thought teaching me such things would give me a strong cultural background, but instead I just ended up being a food snob.
Another surprise on the menu was that every letter ‘L’ was bolded. I know I’m just nit-picking with this one, but it really bothers me when a print job is botched because someone got lazy during pre-flight and didn’t properly collect all the fonts before rasterizing the document. That, uh, might just be me, though.
We decided to order entrées that worked with the atmosphere of the World Sports Grille: I settled on the double burger, which was actually a single burger with onions and coleslaw, while my friend got a brie and shiitake mushroom burger, which was exactly what it sounds like.
I grew up in Pennsylvania, so I imagined ‘coleslaw’ to mean a bit of shredded cabbage (Dutch style, y’know?). I’ve had burgers like that and they were quite good. In this case it meant some carrots in a mayonaise broth plopped on the bun. It was not good. The burgers were obviously packaged, as they were identical in form and weight. Really, they were both quite terrible. Neither of us could finish, but not due to fulfillment.
This entire time I had not seen a cocktail menu, which was one of my main reasons for visiting the damn place to begin with. I think I asked our waitress for one, but she had a tendency to forget that she was a waitress and disappear for long periods of time. We saw her maybe twice during our dinner: once when she took our order, and once when she dropped off the check. Maybe she was sinking her tips into the Stacker machines.
After dinner, we hit the arcade again to try out anything we had overlooked.
This race car thing looked pretty cool. It’s on some sort of hydralics so it flies all over the place whenever you make the slightest motion. They even have a fence around it that screams “Hey, I’m Dangerous!” I had to give it a whirl, even though it cost 15.889 credits.
This is a picture of me in the machine. I’m not sure if it’s clear (and I couldn’t tell from a distance either), but it was definitely not for people of my size. The steering wheel dug into my crotch and my legs bowed out so far that it was hard to reach the pedals. I didn’t think this was so bad until I actually started racing and the whole thing began to lurch around violently. It felt like someone was punching me in the testicles over and over again, which, FYI, is a terrible feeling. I did one turn before hitting the emergency shut off switch. Oh God, it was painful. Maybe I’ll try it again if I ever become four feet tall.
There was a similar machine that may have been more accommodating to my height, but it displayed a Windows desktop on the main screen throughout the entirety of our visit. I remember reading that Sega had started using Windows XPe for all of it’s arcade games, which appears to have turned out exactly as one would expect it to. I felt bad for the drunk woman who paid the ticket price, then sat in the cab pressing the ‘start’ button on the screen for twenty minutes. It’s worth noting that any ‘arcade technicians’ could not be located.
A weird Japanese table tennis game sat by it’s lonesome near the bar area. I had four credits left on my card so I gave it a shot. Either it was amazingly easy for an arcade game, or I wasn’t playing it right and somehow ended up cheating the system. I seemed to win effortlessly: just swing the paddle, and then move on to the next round. It was also not a very good game, so I simply put the paddle down after my third victory and walked away.
During that last game, I started to feel not very good. I wasn’t sure if it was the food or being kicked in the balls by a racing game. My friend also felt not very good, so I’m guessing it was the food. So we left. On the way home, we stopped by Safeway to grab some Pepto-Bismo. We both felt not very good at all.
The next morning, I had some serious issues. I consider this a family blog, so I’ll just leave it at this: do not eat the food at World Sports Grille. It will result in very bad experiences.
That’s my experience at Sega’s flagship concept restaurant. I wish it had been better. If I had to sum it up into a single sentence, I suppose it would be: “This is the Sonic the Hedgehog of Restaurants.”
Way to go, Sega.