I hated Valentine's Day. I've always hated Valentine's Day. In elementary school, there was so much pressure to choose the "right" kind of Valentine. Were the X-Men still cool enough? Were they cool enough that I wouldn't get laughed at? What if someone else got the same package? That could be embarrassing. I had to give one to everyone too...even the people I didn't like. Sometimes people would give out candy and be liked for it, sometimes they had the misfortune of choosing the wrong sort. These are crippling decisions for a third-grader. Mom would usually end up getting frustrated and choose for me and, of course, none of my concerns were ever confirmed, but I couldn't escape playing the "what if" game. I hated Valentine's Day.
By middle school, Valentine's Day became more exclusive; such cards were only exchanged among friends and couples. I had rather few of the former and none of the latter. It was somewhere in here that Valentine's Day started to become something else: Singles' Awareness Day. I was thrilled to have escaped the pressure of choosing valentines to be distributed to my classmates, but I always sorta wished I got more. I hated Valentine's Day.
High school. Oh, high school. A lot of the people I know think back on their high school years with a those-were-the-days sort of nostalgia. It's a pretty resounding 'meh' in my memory. Some good things, some bad, a lot of lukewarm feelings. I escaped the first two years' Valentine's through a combination of homework and not caring. The "holiday" came and went all but unnoticed. At some point though, I got a girlfriend, and did she turn out to be a doozy! We started dating right around Valentine's Day, which also happened to be right around her birthday, and she'd had a crush on me for some time. I got lots of romantic bonus points for that...not that I had any idea at the time. For a while, I almost cared about the day; I would be able to combine holidays! What guy doesn't want that? Then we broke up. Badly. Whether through maturity or some other mechanism, I'd moved beyond hating Valentine's toward just not caring. I didn't care about Valentine's Day.
College was a fair bit of the same. I spent most of my time working, pretending to work, and playing games (in reverse order). The day came and went nearly without notice. I only knew because my roomie had a girlfriend and he knew better than to forget. Four whole years passed, and I still didn't care about Valentine's Day.
At last, real life...is pretty much more of the same. I get to see my friends more often. I'm still single, unemployed as of this writing, and I'm at my computer at 4am writing about Valentine's Day. I still think Valentine's Day is another manufactured, girl-centric holiday almost wholly designed to make the male halves of relationships worry about gifts or be lured into traps. There's a devious undercurrent to the whole thing that bothers me. Nonetheless, I think I'm starting to understand the hubbub.
I started off thinking about Valentine's Day as an extension of the ongoing school popularity contests to which I never learned the rules. After that, it was a reminder that others had something I could only just understand, much less obtain. Then, it just sort of stopped mattering for a while. It fell from the general consciousness and was taken care of more privately. And now, with some perspective and, I like to think, a bit of maturity, I see this in a different light. Valentine's Day, like most other holidays, is a day to reflect on relationships of any sort. Sure, a lot of the commercial emphasis is on romantic connections, but there's more to it. This is a day to dedicate to your most important connections.
Come what may, we'll always have friends and family. Keep them close.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Curse Your Sudden But Inevitable Betrayal
I know, two posts in the same day. Does that seem right to you? I want to speak (maybe briefly) on my very favorite television show ever: Firefly. It's a damn crime that this show was canceled so early. In case you don't know (even though you should) Firefly is a sort of sci-fi spaghetti western with a dash of bluegrass music. It's an odd crossroads, but it is a fabulous idea that benefits from terrific writing, a deep story, dynamic characters, and amazing actors. Indeed, it's virtually everything one doesn't find in science fiction television...and everything I love.
Firefly has a rabid fanbase into which, I confess, I was rather late being inducted. The series has the dubious distinction as the only canceled TV show resurrected into a full-fledged Hollywood movie. The fans, Browncoats, they call themselves, accomplished this through an obsessive resolve that could rattle even the most determined Klingon wannabe.
I knew of the show for some time before I actually saw it. By the time my interest was really piqued, the show was gone. Ye olde Internet gave me my first taste and there was no turning back. There is genius at the core of Firefly; it's not necessarily a person. This is one of those exceedingly rare times that I believe the product is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Some of it comes from the passion that all those involved clearly poured into the camera. Some of it comes from the fans. Some of it comes from Fox's odd decision to drop it. Beyond all of that though, is the sense that simply by viewing these episodes, I have been a part of something special, something unique, something gone.
The opening song speaks volumes and, if one wishes it to be, seems almost prophetic:
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't coming back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
I've watched the series from beginning to end no fewer than four times. I've watched my favorite episodes probably an additional three or four times. I've seen the movie, Serenity, three times as of this writing. Without exception, I love it more with each sit-through.
If we recall back to my opinion of Wall-E, I gave an emphatic "Go see it!" at the post's conclusion. It is at least equally imperative that everyone see Firefly and Serenity, probably more so, but the feeling is different somehow. Where Wall-E was fun, Firefly is seminal. It is the standard against which all future television, regardless of genre, should be held to. Where Wall-E is a great movie for the family, Firefly is but the tip of an iceberg composed of Awesome.
Don't watch Firefly because of my endorsement. Don't watch it to bow to geek pressure. Don't even watch it to support those involved. Watch Firefly because you do yourself a disservice through ignorance.
Firefly has a rabid fanbase into which, I confess, I was rather late being inducted. The series has the dubious distinction as the only canceled TV show resurrected into a full-fledged Hollywood movie. The fans, Browncoats, they call themselves, accomplished this through an obsessive resolve that could rattle even the most determined Klingon wannabe.
I knew of the show for some time before I actually saw it. By the time my interest was really piqued, the show was gone. Ye olde Internet gave me my first taste and there was no turning back. There is genius at the core of Firefly; it's not necessarily a person. This is one of those exceedingly rare times that I believe the product is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Some of it comes from the passion that all those involved clearly poured into the camera. Some of it comes from the fans. Some of it comes from Fox's odd decision to drop it. Beyond all of that though, is the sense that simply by viewing these episodes, I have been a part of something special, something unique, something gone.
The opening song speaks volumes and, if one wishes it to be, seems almost prophetic:
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't coming back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
I've watched the series from beginning to end no fewer than four times. I've watched my favorite episodes probably an additional three or four times. I've seen the movie, Serenity, three times as of this writing. Without exception, I love it more with each sit-through.
If we recall back to my opinion of Wall-E, I gave an emphatic "Go see it!" at the post's conclusion. It is at least equally imperative that everyone see Firefly and Serenity, probably more so, but the feeling is different somehow. Where Wall-E was fun, Firefly is seminal. It is the standard against which all future television, regardless of genre, should be held to. Where Wall-E is a great movie for the family, Firefly is but the tip of an iceberg composed of Awesome.
Don't watch Firefly because of my endorsement. Don't watch it to bow to geek pressure. Don't even watch it to support those involved. Watch Firefly because you do yourself a disservice through ignorance.
The Audacity of Hope, Indeed
There's an awful lot of hope flying around today. Here we are, at the very precipice of change, and I see only two ways down: one leads to unbridled success, the other to uncontrollable failure. The chasm of terrible between the possibilities concerns me to no end, and I would very much rather take the first path than the second.
We, the American people, officially have a black president! Segregated water fountains are still in living memory. It's only just outside my lifetime that busing minorities into white schools nearly brought the country to its knees. I, and everyone I know, now regard skin color as little more than a benign twist of fate. We, everyone who voted, have done a momentous thing. It is a thing we must never forget, come what may.
I spent an hour or so crafting and deleting several more paragraphs outlining my concerns for the future before I realized that it doesn't matter--it wasn't the concerns that drove me to write this. I worry about war, torture, terrorism, corruption, recession, socialism, and racial strife--and that's just right now, not even a comprehensive list. Yet, I retain my optimism. Even as I think of all the terrible things that may be ahead, I can't help but feel...something.
Despite all the darkness I see looming on the horizon, I am warmed by the indomitable light of hope, and it truly seems audacious.
We, the American people, officially have a black president! Segregated water fountains are still in living memory. It's only just outside my lifetime that busing minorities into white schools nearly brought the country to its knees. I, and everyone I know, now regard skin color as little more than a benign twist of fate. We, everyone who voted, have done a momentous thing. It is a thing we must never forget, come what may.
I spent an hour or so crafting and deleting several more paragraphs outlining my concerns for the future before I realized that it doesn't matter--it wasn't the concerns that drove me to write this. I worry about war, torture, terrorism, corruption, recession, socialism, and racial strife--and that's just right now, not even a comprehensive list. Yet, I retain my optimism. Even as I think of all the terrible things that may be ahead, I can't help but feel...something.
Despite all the darkness I see looming on the horizon, I am warmed by the indomitable light of hope, and it truly seems audacious.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I'm always watching
We've established that I like video games, macro-level politics, and probably implied the general state of being a geek. Today, let's add "movie-lover" to the list. I really like movies, but my tastes are wildly diverse. I enjoy the sentimental cheesyness of the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie as much as the genre-defining awesome that was The Dark Knight. I'll even admit to enjoying the occasional chick-flick. The common thread between all the movies I like is an amalgam of story, character, and fun. The relative presence of these factors can pretty accurately predict how much I like a movie. The holy grail of movie-watching for me is the flick that elicits a real emotional reaction from me.
Some movies make my heart race. Other movies make me laugh. A small few make me cry, but it's only the really special movies that can do all three. Wall-E is one of those. I so love this movie that writing about it is difficult; my thoughts are too jumbled. I'll try and ease the process by focusing on the three things I look for in all movies.
The story is beyond engrossing. It takes place is a far-flung future that, with a careful application of hyperbole, feels horribly prophetic. The planet is so polluted that humanity's only hope of continued survival is to flee to space and leave robots to try and fix the ruin that we molded the planet to become. That seems rather doom-and-gloom, and it is if you think about it enough, but this is more than offset by the other two factors.
Good, believable, dynamic characters are possibly the single most important aspect of any story, especially movies. All the characters (that's right, ALL of them) are fascinating, lovable, and comforting in their humanity...regardless of actual species.
Finally, the fun-factor. Fun isn't really quantifiable. It's like luck or love; everyone knows what it is, but that definition is intensely personal. What's fun for me may be a chore for someone else. That said, I'm willing to make a statement, with no room for equivocation or interpretation, that this movie is fun. Even if only for this reason, everyone should see Wall-E.
Wall-E is the only movie I've seen this year that's made my heart race as if I was sprinting, made me laugh until I was sore, made me cry just enough to have to use my sleeve. Pixar is a master of its craft and they have no rivals. I have never seen a Pixar production that I didn't enjoy, but Wall-E is the new standard.
I sweat from anxiety, laughed 'til I hurt, and burned my eyes with tears in the span of a 90-minute movie. If ever there was a definition of superb, Wall-E is it.
Seriously, go watch the movie.
Some movies make my heart race. Other movies make me laugh. A small few make me cry, but it's only the really special movies that can do all three. Wall-E is one of those. I so love this movie that writing about it is difficult; my thoughts are too jumbled. I'll try and ease the process by focusing on the three things I look for in all movies.
The story is beyond engrossing. It takes place is a far-flung future that, with a careful application of hyperbole, feels horribly prophetic. The planet is so polluted that humanity's only hope of continued survival is to flee to space and leave robots to try and fix the ruin that we molded the planet to become. That seems rather doom-and-gloom, and it is if you think about it enough, but this is more than offset by the other two factors.
Good, believable, dynamic characters are possibly the single most important aspect of any story, especially movies. All the characters (that's right, ALL of them) are fascinating, lovable, and comforting in their humanity...regardless of actual species.
Finally, the fun-factor. Fun isn't really quantifiable. It's like luck or love; everyone knows what it is, but that definition is intensely personal. What's fun for me may be a chore for someone else. That said, I'm willing to make a statement, with no room for equivocation or interpretation, that this movie is fun. Even if only for this reason, everyone should see Wall-E.
Wall-E is the only movie I've seen this year that's made my heart race as if I was sprinting, made me laugh until I was sore, made me cry just enough to have to use my sleeve. Pixar is a master of its craft and they have no rivals. I have never seen a Pixar production that I didn't enjoy, but Wall-E is the new standard.
I sweat from anxiety, laughed 'til I hurt, and burned my eyes with tears in the span of a 90-minute movie. If ever there was a definition of superb, Wall-E is it.
Seriously, go watch the movie.
Monday, January 5, 2009
An Early-Adopter's New Year's Lament
I'm a gamer. I really like gaming. Had I my druthers, that's probably how I'd spend much of my time. Unfortunately, life's just hectic enough that It's hard for me to justify long sessions of killing aliens anymore. For those who don't keep up with such things, 2008 was a hell of a year for video games...well, for the Xbox 360 anyway. There's Dead Space, Grand Theft Auto IV, Fallout 3, Gears of War 2, Mirror's Edge, Prince of Persia, and Fable 2 just off the top of my head. This can account for literally hundreds of hours invested in putting a permanent butt-print in a favorite chair.
Here's the thing: I actually own all these games. If ever there was a sign of waste, this is probably it. Of all these games, I've had little chance to get very far in any of them. They're all critically-acclaimed. Seriously, everyone seems to love these things. Then there's me. I'm not sure I like most of these.
Dead Space threatens to actually scare the poo out of me. I scare pretty easily as it is, and I usually try and avoid games of this sort, but there was such a great ad campaign that I forked over the cash for a pre-order. I made it through the first level with clean undies, but only just. Games should be fun. Excitement can be fun. Fear is scary...and not fun for me. One may ask, "So, Chris, if you scare so easily, why would you get a game specifically designed to scare its players?" I'd reply with a shrug and a sheepish "I dunno." Dead Space is a technically great game that does exactly what one of its genre should, I just don't find a great deal of amusement in it.
Grand Theft Auto IV just isn't my kind of game. In my childhood fantasies, the heroes were always good and the villains were always bad. That's really all there was to it. That's why I was such a huge fan of Superman and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles--they were good. The thrust of GTA has always been that the player is a bad guy waging war on worse guys. An anti-hero, if you will. Being good by comparison was never really an ambition of mine. Video games are an effective extension of my imagination, of my fantasies, and I'm too good to play a bad guy. GTA4 does everything right. It has some great technology to draw the player into the universe. The voice-acting is top-notch. I've been told there's even a great story. It's a game with virtually everything I want, with the nagging detail of making me a quasi-villain. One could ask the same question as above, and that person would get a similar answer.
Fallout 3 is just not a pretty environment (what, with all the nuclear...umm...fallout). This was my first foray into the Fallout universe, so I didn't have the same nostalgic expectations as many others just as I didn't really know what I was getting into. There was a lot of hype, and the developers were the same people behind one of my very favorite games, so what could go wrong? In a word, the game is ugly. Sure, everything is rendered well and character animations are some of the best I've seen, but it's all so ugly. Most games pride themselves on having rich, vibrant worlds full of life and discovery. Fallout 3 is a barren, nuclear wasteland in which the big discoveries are burned out homes and multi-headed super mutants. Yay? The gameplay is great, the characters are fun, and the story is engrossing, but running around in the world is so damned depressing.
Gears of War 2 earns more praise than most of this list, but I still have some problems. Gears 2 boasts some of the best writing I've ever experienced in games and the most poignant cutscene ever made. Unfortunately, only some of the writing was really that good. Some of it sounds very much like my creative writing...which is still firmly entrenched in the seventh grade. Aside from the one beacon of awesome, the cutscenes are fairly mundane--fun and gory, to be sure, but mundane. The gameplay is solid and very nearly usurps Halo's title as best-controlling-first-person-shooter. The story, for what it is, is good. Dom's search for his wife, Maria, is heart wrenching with an amazing payoff. It is that detail alone that saves my opinion of this script. There's a lot of fun to be had (not even counting multiplayer) and I'm happy with my purchase, but I'm expecting more from Gears 3.
Mirror's Edge. Oh, my goodness, Mirror's Edge. The previews for this game literally made my heart race a bit. A game about free-running (parkour, for you nitpickers)! There is a sense of speed in this game unmatched by anything else I've seen. The complete lack of heads-up-display is as refreshing as the gameplay. In the first few seconds, I sensed that this would be a paradigm-shifting experience, something that would finally push the platforming genre into more respectable territory. I was about half-right. Of nine missions, the first four-and-a-half are exactly what I wanted: frantic problem-solving while jumping from rooftop to rooftop while being hunted by an implacable enemy. The emphasis was on evasion. Starting part way through the fourth stage, the emphasis shifted to combat. Faith, the main character, kinda sucks at combat; she's much better designed for the earlier evasion tactics. This shift made what started off as a contender for the "Chris' Most Favoritest Gaem Evar!!1!one" title into a game threatening to edge out Devil May Cry and Ninja Gaiden for "Most Controller-Breakingly Frustrating Game Ever Created by Satan." This so could have been something great, but it now rests on my shelf, likely never to be completed.
Prince of Persia is good. I love the new art style. It's a good re-imagining of the franchise and an intriguing springboard into the inevitable sequels. It's the combat system that holds this game back. For all its fluidity and gradual learning curve, it's a little lame fighting just the one enemy at a time secure in the knowledge that it is impossible to die. Literally. Impossible. There's an achievement to be earned for not dying much, but that's not a big motivator for me. It's fun, but feels too idiot-proof for me to really get excited over. I'm not sure that's a bad things per se, it's impossible to please everyone, but it took me too far out of the game world to care as much as I need to to remain focused.
Fable 2 is probably the biggest disappointment. It's one of the few games that seemed it would actually live up to its own hype machine. Fable 2 occurs in a world which is noticeably and permanently affected by the player's actions. That's a huge step for gaming. Many games nowadays have multiple endings, but they're finite, specific conclusions. Fable 2 has nearly limitless possibilities with thousands of nuances that will make every player's experience unique to that one's decisions and style. I was very, very happy when I got my copy at last. I jumped right in and powered through the first few quests, bought property, flirted, farted, got married, and purchased my first home. I was having a blast. Then I got a quest that I couldn't figure out how to complete. I needed to bring someone to a place, but the person wouldn't follow me. I went to the quest-giver for a hint, but he wouldn't talk to me. I turned to the Internet for a hint and found that I was one of the relatively few who got stuck in a game-ruining bug. Because of the way the save files work, it was impossible to retrieve my character. The ten hours or so I spent building this persona are lost forever and I have nothing but frustration to show for it. Okay, I can do this, I can start over. I made a new character...and got stuck in another game-ruining bug! I've done some reading and I know where all the really bad bugs found so far are, but I can't play anymore. I can't stand the thought of playing a game with the ever-present threat of ruining my experience.
So, what's the moral of the story? I have no idea. I was looking at my game shelf thinking of what I wanted to play and saw all my brand-new games...then pulled out an old one. There are a lot of people in the industry working themselves into a lather over how many huge games dropped this year. There were a lot of big games, but I don't really like many of them. I think I'm officially off the early-adopter bandwagon. After hundreds of dollars spent on new games, I spend most of my time playing my 2-4 year old titles.
The realization that hundreds of dollars of potential awesome sits inert on my shelf is depressing and frustrating. I don't really have a pithy ending to this one. This is really just to vent a bit. More snarkiness to come, I'm sure.
Here's the thing: I actually own all these games. If ever there was a sign of waste, this is probably it. Of all these games, I've had little chance to get very far in any of them. They're all critically-acclaimed. Seriously, everyone seems to love these things. Then there's me. I'm not sure I like most of these.
Dead Space threatens to actually scare the poo out of me. I scare pretty easily as it is, and I usually try and avoid games of this sort, but there was such a great ad campaign that I forked over the cash for a pre-order. I made it through the first level with clean undies, but only just. Games should be fun. Excitement can be fun. Fear is scary...and not fun for me. One may ask, "So, Chris, if you scare so easily, why would you get a game specifically designed to scare its players?" I'd reply with a shrug and a sheepish "I dunno." Dead Space is a technically great game that does exactly what one of its genre should, I just don't find a great deal of amusement in it.
Grand Theft Auto IV just isn't my kind of game. In my childhood fantasies, the heroes were always good and the villains were always bad. That's really all there was to it. That's why I was such a huge fan of Superman and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles--they were good. The thrust of GTA has always been that the player is a bad guy waging war on worse guys. An anti-hero, if you will. Being good by comparison was never really an ambition of mine. Video games are an effective extension of my imagination, of my fantasies, and I'm too good to play a bad guy. GTA4 does everything right. It has some great technology to draw the player into the universe. The voice-acting is top-notch. I've been told there's even a great story. It's a game with virtually everything I want, with the nagging detail of making me a quasi-villain. One could ask the same question as above, and that person would get a similar answer.
Fallout 3 is just not a pretty environment (what, with all the nuclear...umm...fallout). This was my first foray into the Fallout universe, so I didn't have the same nostalgic expectations as many others just as I didn't really know what I was getting into. There was a lot of hype, and the developers were the same people behind one of my very favorite games, so what could go wrong? In a word, the game is ugly. Sure, everything is rendered well and character animations are some of the best I've seen, but it's all so ugly. Most games pride themselves on having rich, vibrant worlds full of life and discovery. Fallout 3 is a barren, nuclear wasteland in which the big discoveries are burned out homes and multi-headed super mutants. Yay? The gameplay is great, the characters are fun, and the story is engrossing, but running around in the world is so damned depressing.
Gears of War 2 earns more praise than most of this list, but I still have some problems. Gears 2 boasts some of the best writing I've ever experienced in games and the most poignant cutscene ever made. Unfortunately, only some of the writing was really that good. Some of it sounds very much like my creative writing...which is still firmly entrenched in the seventh grade. Aside from the one beacon of awesome, the cutscenes are fairly mundane--fun and gory, to be sure, but mundane. The gameplay is solid and very nearly usurps Halo's title as best-controlling-first-person-shooter. The story, for what it is, is good. Dom's search for his wife, Maria, is heart wrenching with an amazing payoff. It is that detail alone that saves my opinion of this script. There's a lot of fun to be had (not even counting multiplayer) and I'm happy with my purchase, but I'm expecting more from Gears 3.
Mirror's Edge. Oh, my goodness, Mirror's Edge. The previews for this game literally made my heart race a bit. A game about free-running (parkour, for you nitpickers)! There is a sense of speed in this game unmatched by anything else I've seen. The complete lack of heads-up-display is as refreshing as the gameplay. In the first few seconds, I sensed that this would be a paradigm-shifting experience, something that would finally push the platforming genre into more respectable territory. I was about half-right. Of nine missions, the first four-and-a-half are exactly what I wanted: frantic problem-solving while jumping from rooftop to rooftop while being hunted by an implacable enemy. The emphasis was on evasion. Starting part way through the fourth stage, the emphasis shifted to combat. Faith, the main character, kinda sucks at combat; she's much better designed for the earlier evasion tactics. This shift made what started off as a contender for the "Chris' Most Favoritest Gaem Evar!!1!one" title into a game threatening to edge out Devil May Cry and Ninja Gaiden for "Most Controller-Breakingly Frustrating Game Ever Created by Satan." This so could have been something great, but it now rests on my shelf, likely never to be completed.
Prince of Persia is good. I love the new art style. It's a good re-imagining of the franchise and an intriguing springboard into the inevitable sequels. It's the combat system that holds this game back. For all its fluidity and gradual learning curve, it's a little lame fighting just the one enemy at a time secure in the knowledge that it is impossible to die. Literally. Impossible. There's an achievement to be earned for not dying much, but that's not a big motivator for me. It's fun, but feels too idiot-proof for me to really get excited over. I'm not sure that's a bad things per se, it's impossible to please everyone, but it took me too far out of the game world to care as much as I need to to remain focused.
Fable 2 is probably the biggest disappointment. It's one of the few games that seemed it would actually live up to its own hype machine. Fable 2 occurs in a world which is noticeably and permanently affected by the player's actions. That's a huge step for gaming. Many games nowadays have multiple endings, but they're finite, specific conclusions. Fable 2 has nearly limitless possibilities with thousands of nuances that will make every player's experience unique to that one's decisions and style. I was very, very happy when I got my copy at last. I jumped right in and powered through the first few quests, bought property, flirted, farted, got married, and purchased my first home. I was having a blast. Then I got a quest that I couldn't figure out how to complete. I needed to bring someone to a place, but the person wouldn't follow me. I went to the quest-giver for a hint, but he wouldn't talk to me. I turned to the Internet for a hint and found that I was one of the relatively few who got stuck in a game-ruining bug. Because of the way the save files work, it was impossible to retrieve my character. The ten hours or so I spent building this persona are lost forever and I have nothing but frustration to show for it. Okay, I can do this, I can start over. I made a new character...and got stuck in another game-ruining bug! I've done some reading and I know where all the really bad bugs found so far are, but I can't play anymore. I can't stand the thought of playing a game with the ever-present threat of ruining my experience.
So, what's the moral of the story? I have no idea. I was looking at my game shelf thinking of what I wanted to play and saw all my brand-new games...then pulled out an old one. There are a lot of people in the industry working themselves into a lather over how many huge games dropped this year. There were a lot of big games, but I don't really like many of them. I think I'm officially off the early-adopter bandwagon. After hundreds of dollars spent on new games, I spend most of my time playing my 2-4 year old titles.
The realization that hundreds of dollars of potential awesome sits inert on my shelf is depressing and frustrating. I don't really have a pithy ending to this one. This is really just to vent a bit. More snarkiness to come, I'm sure.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Merry Christmas to All, And to All a New Year
Well, folks, Christmas has come and gone. As is often the case with the season, I'm stunned by the generosity of friends and family. Most of the gifts I received were clearly the result of genuine thoughtfulness. I like to think that the gifts I give hold similar importance to their recipients, but one can never really know. Virtually without exception, mine was a fabulous holiday. I hope everyone can say the same.
Unfortunately, there are always those determined to undermine my sunny demeanor. The recurring conflict between "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" bothers me. There are actually people (presumably non-Christians) who take offense when another wishes them a merry Christmas because it excludes well-wishing for other concurrent holidays. Wait...what? I may not be a good one, but I'm Catholic, so it follows that I celebrate Christmas. A theoretical Jewish friend would not, of course, celebrate Christmas, but I would never, ever be offended if that friend wished me a happy Hanukkah.
The United States is increasingly secular and I see nothing on the horizon that would slow that process. Nowadays, the phrase "Merry Christmas" is mostly a more concise way of saying "I hope you have fun on this upcoming December 25th." How is that a bad thing? The people who get angry are probably the sort who would interpret my self-identification with Catholicism with an endorsement of the Crusades...and Manifest Destiny...and probably slavery. It requires such a huge leap to hear "Merry Christmas" as a bad thing that I'm very nearly speechless. Happily, my fingers still work.
I was touring through Oprah's message boards before Thanksgiving--I'm comfortable enough with myself to admit it--when I saw a lady's post about her vowing to never celebrate Christmas again. Care to guess why? Go ahead, take some time. I'll wait.
Ohhh, so close, but still wrong. It's because Christmas is a lie! She has no fewer than three sources (THREE!) the 'prove' Jesus wasn't born until September 11, 0001 CE. Thus, Christmas, the supposed celebration of Jesus Christ's birth, is wrongly placed on the calendar and should therefore not be observed.
There are plenty of literalists out there who see the Bible as an historical text rather than a religious tome. That's silly. Those people simply lack imagination and live their lives in fear of defending their own opinions. Christmas certainly started as a straight celebration of the birth of Christ, but the word Christmas has become synonymous with the ideas of family, friendship, kindness, generosity, peace, and love--the driving forces behind any religion. In some sense, Christmas has come to represent what all religions hope to achieve.
Does this particular holiday draw attention away from other concurrent holidays? Almost certainly. Does that really matter? I don't think so. 'Tis the season to be jolly, regardless of what you believe. Just remember, when all's said and done, others wishing you good things deserves appreciation, whatever your personal beliefs.
Unfortunately, there are always those determined to undermine my sunny demeanor. The recurring conflict between "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" bothers me. There are actually people (presumably non-Christians) who take offense when another wishes them a merry Christmas because it excludes well-wishing for other concurrent holidays. Wait...what? I may not be a good one, but I'm Catholic, so it follows that I celebrate Christmas. A theoretical Jewish friend would not, of course, celebrate Christmas, but I would never, ever be offended if that friend wished me a happy Hanukkah.
The United States is increasingly secular and I see nothing on the horizon that would slow that process. Nowadays, the phrase "Merry Christmas" is mostly a more concise way of saying "I hope you have fun on this upcoming December 25th." How is that a bad thing? The people who get angry are probably the sort who would interpret my self-identification with Catholicism with an endorsement of the Crusades...and Manifest Destiny...and probably slavery. It requires such a huge leap to hear "Merry Christmas" as a bad thing that I'm very nearly speechless. Happily, my fingers still work.
I was touring through Oprah's message boards before Thanksgiving--I'm comfortable enough with myself to admit it--when I saw a lady's post about her vowing to never celebrate Christmas again. Care to guess why? Go ahead, take some time. I'll wait.
Ohhh, so close, but still wrong. It's because Christmas is a lie! She has no fewer than three sources (THREE!) the 'prove' Jesus wasn't born until September 11, 0001 CE. Thus, Christmas, the supposed celebration of Jesus Christ's birth, is wrongly placed on the calendar and should therefore not be observed.
There are plenty of literalists out there who see the Bible as an historical text rather than a religious tome. That's silly. Those people simply lack imagination and live their lives in fear of defending their own opinions. Christmas certainly started as a straight celebration of the birth of Christ, but the word Christmas has become synonymous with the ideas of family, friendship, kindness, generosity, peace, and love--the driving forces behind any religion. In some sense, Christmas has come to represent what all religions hope to achieve.
Does this particular holiday draw attention away from other concurrent holidays? Almost certainly. Does that really matter? I don't think so. 'Tis the season to be jolly, regardless of what you believe. Just remember, when all's said and done, others wishing you good things deserves appreciation, whatever your personal beliefs.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
WoW, we should've met sooner
I consider myself to be an intelligent guy. People tell me I'm a smart guy (most of them are not coerced). As part of that, I like to think that I'm also mature enough to admit when I'm wrong. It is, in fact, extraordinarily rare for me to actually be wrong, which is all the more reason to draw attention to it when it happens. This time, I am wrong about a video game.
Blizzard's World of Warcraft (hereafter: WoW) boasts more than 13 million subscribers...that's 13,000,000! WoW is a massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). The genre makes a fair bit of sense if you don't think too hard about it.
ArenaNet's Guild Wars (hereafter: GW) has something more like 4 million subscribers. A mere shadow of the fanbase for WoW. GW has a compelling, story-driven narrative, better graphics, a more forgiving battle system, and is much less intimidating.
Both these games came out about the same time and I tried them both. Once the respective trial periods expired, GW was the one that I continued playing...for a bit more than three years now. My initial impressions of WoW boiled down to an utter disbelief that anyone could actually prefer WoW to GW. GW simply outclassed its cousin in all the ways that mattered to me, and since I'm always right...
I maintained that belief for better than three years and played the bejesus out of GW. It's gotten to the point where the bad guys don't even bother trying to kill my party and me any more, they simply commit the appropriate ritual suicide as I approach. I love GW, but life started to get in the way of my fun. Virtually all the competent players in the game are in my guild (there are precious few). The guild is growing up and has competing commitments. Unfortunately, most of what I have left to do requires some of my guildies. This has led to a general ennui toward the game that will take some time to dissipate.
One of my best friends has been a WoW-er for some time and likes to pester and pressure me into his gaming universe. At one point I promised him that when (and if) I start to grow weary of GW and have some money lying around, I will give WoW another try.
Those conditions were met about a week ago and I need to revise my initial assessment of WoW. It's a beautiful world that's fun to play in. There isn't the same degree of graphical precision I enjoyed in GW, but WoW's strongest asset is starting to pull me ever deeper into the experience: sheer size. The world of Warcraft is massive beyond reckoning.
I'm still not convinced that WoW deserves its amazing popularity or that competing games should quiver and die before the onslaught of WoW. Now I'm convinced, at the very least, that WoW is fun. I just have to learn how to go to bed before 4am while I'm playing.
Blizzard's World of Warcraft (hereafter: WoW) boasts more than 13 million subscribers...that's 13,000,000! WoW is a massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). The genre makes a fair bit of sense if you don't think too hard about it.
ArenaNet's Guild Wars (hereafter: GW) has something more like 4 million subscribers. A mere shadow of the fanbase for WoW. GW has a compelling, story-driven narrative, better graphics, a more forgiving battle system, and is much less intimidating.
Both these games came out about the same time and I tried them both. Once the respective trial periods expired, GW was the one that I continued playing...for a bit more than three years now. My initial impressions of WoW boiled down to an utter disbelief that anyone could actually prefer WoW to GW. GW simply outclassed its cousin in all the ways that mattered to me, and since I'm always right...
I maintained that belief for better than three years and played the bejesus out of GW. It's gotten to the point where the bad guys don't even bother trying to kill my party and me any more, they simply commit the appropriate ritual suicide as I approach. I love GW, but life started to get in the way of my fun. Virtually all the competent players in the game are in my guild (there are precious few). The guild is growing up and has competing commitments. Unfortunately, most of what I have left to do requires some of my guildies. This has led to a general ennui toward the game that will take some time to dissipate.
One of my best friends has been a WoW-er for some time and likes to pester and pressure me into his gaming universe. At one point I promised him that when (and if) I start to grow weary of GW and have some money lying around, I will give WoW another try.
Those conditions were met about a week ago and I need to revise my initial assessment of WoW. It's a beautiful world that's fun to play in. There isn't the same degree of graphical precision I enjoyed in GW, but WoW's strongest asset is starting to pull me ever deeper into the experience: sheer size. The world of Warcraft is massive beyond reckoning.
I'm still not convinced that WoW deserves its amazing popularity or that competing games should quiver and die before the onslaught of WoW. Now I'm convinced, at the very least, that WoW is fun. I just have to learn how to go to bed before 4am while I'm playing.
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