Saturday, August 25, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
The Worst Feeling
Get up…
It's cool here.
That's the first thing that came to his mind as the wind past faintly, barely blowing the hairs on his forearm. The air was so brisk, just cold enough to still feel nice, like autumn. His favorite season. Eagerly, he opened his eyes, anxious to take in the rest of his environment. Funny, you'd think he'd fine a peculiarity in this keenness to survey the what, without the why or how. Nevertheless, the thought never formed and he remained content, absorbing all that surrounded him.
He was in a field, perhaps on a hill in a far-off countryside. It must have been, because all he could see is grass and sky for miles ahead. And leaves, gently floating to the ground slowly, hazily. Of course leaves do tend to float slowly, but for him, it felt even slower than usual, as if they would soon decelerate, perhaps even change course, drifting upward unto the far reaches of this pale, cloudless blue. Such strange leaves, and to come from nowhere like this. He turned his head upward to find they indeed had an origin. The limbs of a giant tree obscured his skyward view. It was the only tree there, this tree he had been leaning against this whole time. Of course. Had he not been upright this whole time? Perhaps it was the softness of its bark, the absence of its pressure that surprised him the most. No itch from its texture, not even the faintest scratch he felt. It was just, just "there" enough to support his weight.
…no patience for this. You best…
It was all he could do to marvel at this place, not for these little glitches of physics, no. These things only grazed his mind, passing without discomfort or unease. What did unease his mind was the feeling it gave him. It was so … so serene. It was unusual for him to feel this pleasant, at least that's what it seem like. He had no place in his heart for this warmth, but he was more than willing to find the room and welcome it unconditionally as a permanent member of his person. Yes, he could get use to they, just lying here with the wind, the leaves, the tree and her.
She had been lying so quietly in his arms, he had not realized her presence until now. But there she was, breathing softly, his arm just above her stomach. She was so light, he barely felt her weight. Not until he had noticed her did her force register and his hand feel the expansion and contraction of her chest, punctuated with the beats of her heart. Yet here she had been the whole time. How strange.
Strange like the silence. Not a deafening one. That would ring his ears. That would be unpleasant, and that's not what this place is about. No, not this place, where time moves only as fast as it needs to and things hide from perception, only showing themselves when absolutely necessary, appearing piecemeal, first in sight, then in touch, then…
Hm. No smell. He was already aware of the still of it all, but this lack of olfactory sensation was new to him. He took in one big breath, finding this absence so hard to believe, only to find there was an odor. Pine. And lemon. And ocean breeze. All here. All out of place. But it was smell, enough to satisfy his curiosity. Had this smell always been there? Or had the world seen fit to correct its oversight? He didn't care.
…think that playing possum will aid you, well, I suppose you forget my love of desecra…
Perfection. It was a wonder that he found no need to probe this place further. Why wouldn't this utopia unsettle his nerve, pique his senses? Maybe it's the joy of discovery, the sheer excitement of finding yet another detail to revel in. Maybe it's just part of the package. You marvel at the softness, the stillness, the purity of it all, then, you let your newfound knowledge go, tiny feathers set free in the wind, only to have them return and fill you with the same joy you had when you first plucked them from the sky. How could he resist staying here for days, shucking all that he needed to do…
Was there something he was to be doing right now? He couldn't remember, but in the back of his heart, where all he had felt before this place had been pushed to, he could hear something ting, the only thing that fazed him, chilling the warmth that had now become him. That and the taste. It was familiar, but as with everything he had experienced recently, that doesn't count for much. It wasn't altogether unpalatable, perhaps because he felt he should know what it is, that he should be accustom to it, but the sheer fact that its identity was quite literally on the tip of his tongue struck at his resolve all the more. Well, I guess nothing is completely perfect, he thought as he closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.
He was right. Nothing is perfect, not even perfection. If he had not been so content he might have stopped to think. He might have remembered why. It never lasts. Sooner or later the restful are thrown in upheaval, and the unease, the natural state, retakes its place in the forefront of your mind. And you best not ignore. For the longer the disregard, the more violent the upheaval.
"Fine. You want a rude awakening. I'm more than happy to oblige."
He heard it clearly. He looked down. It hadn't come from her: it was a masculine voice. But it was so close, words still ringing. It had cut through the silence, showing how truly quiet it had really been. Here was no sound — not the rustling of leaves, not the sound of her breath, not even a soft howl from the wind — suddenly cleaved, pierced by this sudden blade of speech. Now, where there was hush, the voice of malevolence reigned.
Everything was unsettled now. No more silence. No more wind. And the leaves that had bordered on suspension were now, in fact, traveling upward in a quick, unyielding motion.
A sharp pain struck the small of his back. He didn't call out in pain. He had wanted to, but now, in his only moment of exclamatory need, he found his facilities failed him. It pained him to move his jaw. In fact, it hurt to move his arm, to bend his leg, to do anything at all. Had it been this way the whole time?
This world faded quickly after that. Before he could realize, before he could regret, all that had been was no more. No more sky. No more leaves. No more blue. No more green. No more girl. Just the spotted darkness behind the back of his eyelids.
---
It's the taste that comes back to him first. Blood. Fresh and still flowing from the cuts and abrasions that populate his face. As he goes to wipe the blood from his mouth, he struggles. His right arm lies pinned under his stomach. Already exhausted, he wearily turns his head to his left, beginning the arduous task of moving his left arm. It still hurt to move, but at least now he knows why. There was nothing unsettling about this pain. The mystery is gone.
His hand runs across his lips. He goes to examine the blood, opening his eye. Singular. The left one is swollen shut, no doubt red and tender. He decides against exploration. No sense in rewarding the pain from move his arm to his eye with the sting of touching a still swollen bruise.
"I wish I could say I'm not enjoying this, but what's the point. You'd know I'm lying. I'd know I'm lying. We shouldn't complicate things with false regrets and empty exchanges."
He can hear his assailant's approach, slow enough to have time to dread the arrival, but with an undeniable air of urgency. His opponent can only savor this bout for so long. He can't deny himself the end of the fight forever. Sooner or later he'll have to let go of the fun of torture and embrace the inevitable conclusion of this conflict, but for now he can enjoy it while it lasted.
His weight on his left arm, the beaten one rises, first to his elbows, then his knees. It was still a burden, sure, but what choice was there? He has to defend himself. Rale would not relent his assault…
It was the first time he had realized that he knew his attacker's name. In fact, he knew so much more. The haze that had clouded his memories has passed so quickly, and now he can recall. He recalls Rale. He recalls the fight. He recalls the dream.
That's all it had been, of course. A brief vacation for consciousness, miles away from the ever-present battle, yet still very much here. Undeniable in it's peculiarities now, the obviousness of its true nature baffles him. He should have known. Nothing in his life is that good.
Rale sighs. "Another go? I have to tell you Birn, I can't find the same joy in fighting you as I used to. What's wrong with you? Nary a snide remark or sappy riposte? Come now. Don't rob me of my fun."
Birn was up to his feet now, still not facing Rale. He could hear him from his right, but his mind is on something, somewhere else. He is still thinking. Thinking of the wind. The leaves. Her.
His eye changes rather quickly then, opening wider now. The blue and green is no longer confined to his head. They course through him, clinching his fist, hardening his stance, dulling the pain.
Rale still waits in vain for a reply. Alas, Birn is no longer in the talking mood. He sighs again. "Well, can't say I'll mourn you."
It's one swift motion At first he thinks Birn was finally turning to respond. He is, just not with his mouth. The hand approaches his neck without hesitation. A second later, Rale's back is to the closest wall, suspended above the floor, throat collapsing under Birn's unyielding grasp. He can't breath. Can't talk. Good.
Now you would think, mistakenly so, that anger and frustration is what sparked this. Here he was, fresh from paradise, thrown to confrontation. On the losing side, at that. I'm sure you've been a victim of such. Eyes wide, lying in bed, wondering where all that money went, why the fans are gone. It's jarring for some, annoying for most.
Not Birn. Some of us are just wired right. Some people know, subconsciously perhaps, what a dream is suppose to do. So when they awake each morning from a world so very much unlike theirs, a place they so very much want to return to, they don't bemoan the lose of what never was. It's a task, a challenge to set out and make it what will be. No, frustration is not what drives his hand and stays the pain. Ambition is.
"This is no debate." He finally says, pausing to meet Rale's gaze. "No more words."
As quickly as he had grabbed him, he throws Rale behind his back, without effort, without pause. It was now Rale lying still on the ground, not from defeat, but amazement. So close had victory seemed. Had he been bluffing before? He must have. Surprise. Deception. Those are the gambits of a cornered man. It wouldn't be much longer now, once he shatters this last, desperate tactic, there…
But as Birn turns to meet his eyes once more. He knows it was no gambit that brought this to bare. No, not with that look, overflowing with forceful sincerity. No tricks, no half-truths are present here. Here is something he didn't bring into this fight. Here truly is the result of a dream deferred.
It's cool here.
That's the first thing that came to his mind as the wind past faintly, barely blowing the hairs on his forearm. The air was so brisk, just cold enough to still feel nice, like autumn. His favorite season. Eagerly, he opened his eyes, anxious to take in the rest of his environment. Funny, you'd think he'd fine a peculiarity in this keenness to survey the what, without the why or how. Nevertheless, the thought never formed and he remained content, absorbing all that surrounded him.
He was in a field, perhaps on a hill in a far-off countryside. It must have been, because all he could see is grass and sky for miles ahead. And leaves, gently floating to the ground slowly, hazily. Of course leaves do tend to float slowly, but for him, it felt even slower than usual, as if they would soon decelerate, perhaps even change course, drifting upward unto the far reaches of this pale, cloudless blue. Such strange leaves, and to come from nowhere like this. He turned his head upward to find they indeed had an origin. The limbs of a giant tree obscured his skyward view. It was the only tree there, this tree he had been leaning against this whole time. Of course. Had he not been upright this whole time? Perhaps it was the softness of its bark, the absence of its pressure that surprised him the most. No itch from its texture, not even the faintest scratch he felt. It was just, just "there" enough to support his weight.
…no patience for this. You best…
It was all he could do to marvel at this place, not for these little glitches of physics, no. These things only grazed his mind, passing without discomfort or unease. What did unease his mind was the feeling it gave him. It was so … so serene. It was unusual for him to feel this pleasant, at least that's what it seem like. He had no place in his heart for this warmth, but he was more than willing to find the room and welcome it unconditionally as a permanent member of his person. Yes, he could get use to they, just lying here with the wind, the leaves, the tree and her.
She had been lying so quietly in his arms, he had not realized her presence until now. But there she was, breathing softly, his arm just above her stomach. She was so light, he barely felt her weight. Not until he had noticed her did her force register and his hand feel the expansion and contraction of her chest, punctuated with the beats of her heart. Yet here she had been the whole time. How strange.
Strange like the silence. Not a deafening one. That would ring his ears. That would be unpleasant, and that's not what this place is about. No, not this place, where time moves only as fast as it needs to and things hide from perception, only showing themselves when absolutely necessary, appearing piecemeal, first in sight, then in touch, then…
Hm. No smell. He was already aware of the still of it all, but this lack of olfactory sensation was new to him. He took in one big breath, finding this absence so hard to believe, only to find there was an odor. Pine. And lemon. And ocean breeze. All here. All out of place. But it was smell, enough to satisfy his curiosity. Had this smell always been there? Or had the world seen fit to correct its oversight? He didn't care.
…think that playing possum will aid you, well, I suppose you forget my love of desecra…
Perfection. It was a wonder that he found no need to probe this place further. Why wouldn't this utopia unsettle his nerve, pique his senses? Maybe it's the joy of discovery, the sheer excitement of finding yet another detail to revel in. Maybe it's just part of the package. You marvel at the softness, the stillness, the purity of it all, then, you let your newfound knowledge go, tiny feathers set free in the wind, only to have them return and fill you with the same joy you had when you first plucked them from the sky. How could he resist staying here for days, shucking all that he needed to do…
Was there something he was to be doing right now? He couldn't remember, but in the back of his heart, where all he had felt before this place had been pushed to, he could hear something ting, the only thing that fazed him, chilling the warmth that had now become him. That and the taste. It was familiar, but as with everything he had experienced recently, that doesn't count for much. It wasn't altogether unpalatable, perhaps because he felt he should know what it is, that he should be accustom to it, but the sheer fact that its identity was quite literally on the tip of his tongue struck at his resolve all the more. Well, I guess nothing is completely perfect, he thought as he closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.
He was right. Nothing is perfect, not even perfection. If he had not been so content he might have stopped to think. He might have remembered why. It never lasts. Sooner or later the restful are thrown in upheaval, and the unease, the natural state, retakes its place in the forefront of your mind. And you best not ignore. For the longer the disregard, the more violent the upheaval.
"Fine. You want a rude awakening. I'm more than happy to oblige."
He heard it clearly. He looked down. It hadn't come from her: it was a masculine voice. But it was so close, words still ringing. It had cut through the silence, showing how truly quiet it had really been. Here was no sound — not the rustling of leaves, not the sound of her breath, not even a soft howl from the wind — suddenly cleaved, pierced by this sudden blade of speech. Now, where there was hush, the voice of malevolence reigned.
Everything was unsettled now. No more silence. No more wind. And the leaves that had bordered on suspension were now, in fact, traveling upward in a quick, unyielding motion.
A sharp pain struck the small of his back. He didn't call out in pain. He had wanted to, but now, in his only moment of exclamatory need, he found his facilities failed him. It pained him to move his jaw. In fact, it hurt to move his arm, to bend his leg, to do anything at all. Had it been this way the whole time?
This world faded quickly after that. Before he could realize, before he could regret, all that had been was no more. No more sky. No more leaves. No more blue. No more green. No more girl. Just the spotted darkness behind the back of his eyelids.
---
It's the taste that comes back to him first. Blood. Fresh and still flowing from the cuts and abrasions that populate his face. As he goes to wipe the blood from his mouth, he struggles. His right arm lies pinned under his stomach. Already exhausted, he wearily turns his head to his left, beginning the arduous task of moving his left arm. It still hurt to move, but at least now he knows why. There was nothing unsettling about this pain. The mystery is gone.
His hand runs across his lips. He goes to examine the blood, opening his eye. Singular. The left one is swollen shut, no doubt red and tender. He decides against exploration. No sense in rewarding the pain from move his arm to his eye with the sting of touching a still swollen bruise.
"I wish I could say I'm not enjoying this, but what's the point. You'd know I'm lying. I'd know I'm lying. We shouldn't complicate things with false regrets and empty exchanges."
He can hear his assailant's approach, slow enough to have time to dread the arrival, but with an undeniable air of urgency. His opponent can only savor this bout for so long. He can't deny himself the end of the fight forever. Sooner or later he'll have to let go of the fun of torture and embrace the inevitable conclusion of this conflict, but for now he can enjoy it while it lasted.
His weight on his left arm, the beaten one rises, first to his elbows, then his knees. It was still a burden, sure, but what choice was there? He has to defend himself. Rale would not relent his assault…
It was the first time he had realized that he knew his attacker's name. In fact, he knew so much more. The haze that had clouded his memories has passed so quickly, and now he can recall. He recalls Rale. He recalls the fight. He recalls the dream.
That's all it had been, of course. A brief vacation for consciousness, miles away from the ever-present battle, yet still very much here. Undeniable in it's peculiarities now, the obviousness of its true nature baffles him. He should have known. Nothing in his life is that good.
Rale sighs. "Another go? I have to tell you Birn, I can't find the same joy in fighting you as I used to. What's wrong with you? Nary a snide remark or sappy riposte? Come now. Don't rob me of my fun."
Birn was up to his feet now, still not facing Rale. He could hear him from his right, but his mind is on something, somewhere else. He is still thinking. Thinking of the wind. The leaves. Her.
His eye changes rather quickly then, opening wider now. The blue and green is no longer confined to his head. They course through him, clinching his fist, hardening his stance, dulling the pain.
Rale still waits in vain for a reply. Alas, Birn is no longer in the talking mood. He sighs again. "Well, can't say I'll mourn you."
It's one swift motion At first he thinks Birn was finally turning to respond. He is, just not with his mouth. The hand approaches his neck without hesitation. A second later, Rale's back is to the closest wall, suspended above the floor, throat collapsing under Birn's unyielding grasp. He can't breath. Can't talk. Good.
Now you would think, mistakenly so, that anger and frustration is what sparked this. Here he was, fresh from paradise, thrown to confrontation. On the losing side, at that. I'm sure you've been a victim of such. Eyes wide, lying in bed, wondering where all that money went, why the fans are gone. It's jarring for some, annoying for most.
Not Birn. Some of us are just wired right. Some people know, subconsciously perhaps, what a dream is suppose to do. So when they awake each morning from a world so very much unlike theirs, a place they so very much want to return to, they don't bemoan the lose of what never was. It's a task, a challenge to set out and make it what will be. No, frustration is not what drives his hand and stays the pain. Ambition is.
"This is no debate." He finally says, pausing to meet Rale's gaze. "No more words."
As quickly as he had grabbed him, he throws Rale behind his back, without effort, without pause. It was now Rale lying still on the ground, not from defeat, but amazement. So close had victory seemed. Had he been bluffing before? He must have. Surprise. Deception. Those are the gambits of a cornered man. It wouldn't be much longer now, once he shatters this last, desperate tactic, there…
But as Birn turns to meet his eyes once more. He knows it was no gambit that brought this to bare. No, not with that look, overflowing with forceful sincerity. No tricks, no half-truths are present here. Here is something he didn't bring into this fight. Here truly is the result of a dream deferred.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
I Know What I Like
tags:
games
So I thought I was gonna write a long rant on Ebert's "games as art, not high art" comments, but the fervor I felt over the article has cooled over the past couple of weeks.
When the article was first posted, I could find so many things to rail against; his definition of art, his opposition to narrative manipulation in art, his totally disregard of the well-written, linear narratives found in some games. In that first irksome reading, all I could think was, "How could his opinion be so wrong?"
And that's just it. I had forgotten that "art" is like "love" or "morality". I can compare my views on the matter with his, but try as I might, I won't be able to see who wins in this game. He's got his own view on what can and can't be art, and I have mine. Granted without hearing which games he's played recently, I can't really take his opinions on the medium seriously, but I can at least learn something useful from another person's perspective (in theory: It's really hard to find merit in his prose while he tries to belittle Clive Barker's views}.
If Ebert had just prepended "my idea of" to each occurrence of the word "art" in his essay, perhaps fewer people would be up in arms. Then again, this is the internet.
When the article was first posted, I could find so many things to rail against; his definition of art, his opposition to narrative manipulation in art, his totally disregard of the well-written, linear narratives found in some games. In that first irksome reading, all I could think was, "How could his opinion be so wrong?"
And that's just it. I had forgotten that "art" is like "love" or "morality". I can compare my views on the matter with his, but try as I might, I won't be able to see who wins in this game. He's got his own view on what can and can't be art, and I have mine. Granted without hearing which games he's played recently, I can't really take his opinions on the medium seriously, but I can at least learn something useful from another person's perspective (in theory: It's really hard to find merit in his prose while he tries to belittle Clive Barker's views}.
If Ebert had just prepended "my idea of" to each occurrence of the word "art" in his essay, perhaps fewer people would be up in arms. Then again, this is the internet.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Condemned to Censorship
tags:
games
So the senior producer of Condemned 2 has revealed a cautious approach to game content brought on by Manhunt 2's AO rating. I suppose it's kind of sad to think that game makers are beginning to feel the need to tone down their productions in order to ensure wide release, but I guess it's nothing new. Hollywood's been walking the fine line between R and NC-17, and I'm sure that has led to the same kind of content considerations.
I suppose the disconcerting thing is that the content in Manhunt 2 didn't seem any different from a lot of the splatter films being released today. Of course since I haven't played Manhunt 2, I can't say for sure how the violence in Manhunt 2 compares to that of these movies, but without that firsthand experience, my mind is left to wonder. Are the rating boards treating the violent content of games more harshly because of the interactive nature of the medium? Is that fair? Furthermore, does the more immersive control scheme offered by the Wii skew judgement? Is this fair? Perhaps making the player the perpetrator of these brutal attacks as oppose to the victim somehow gives off an air of consent or encouragement in the minds of the reviewers. Maybe the majority still sees video games as a childhood pastime with no room for adult content. Still, it could be simpler than that. Manhunt 2 might very well be worst than GTA or God of War, gorier than Hostel or Saw, if we can fairly make that comparison.
Ultimately, the argument should not matter to me. I'm old enough to buy my own games and make my own decisions. The rating system should be a great tool for restricting the intake of minors and informing parents. The problem is that the AO rating makes it something more. If the rating system is merely for parents, than the inclusion of a M rating (for 17+) and an AO rating (for 18+) seems pretty redundant. The truth is that the AO rating does more, essentially barring a game from widespread, console release.
At my age and position in life, I should be able to ignore the ratings. If I'm buying the games for myself, than the only barriers I should have to procurement are my own reservations (luckily, I have none). I'm not saying that no topic is taboo and that there's never a reason to ban a game, but an AO rating shouldn't effectively be a ban.
More troubling is that this isn't really different from the home video market right now. Major retail like Wal-Mart don't stock NC-17 movies, leaving other specialty shops to provide an outlet. It's not the best solution, but retailers have a right, I guess, to choose what they stock, although that itself could lead to another murky topic if taken to the extreme. It's more or less a question of what's morally accepted in the mainstream, a view that will always be contested by someone. As long as there's more money in morality, that's just how it's gonna be.
In the end, the truth is both simpler and more complex than this whole meandering rant I've been on. If the integrity of the story and content absolutely mattered more than money to Rockstar and Monolith, they'd take the AO rating and stick their games on the computer. Of course there's more to this than income and integrity. It's a balancing act between what they want to sell, and what they're allowed to sell in the market they chosen. Rockstar will go back and retool the content, Monolith with watch what the code, both will benefit from a larger profit and audience than if they had an AO rating and, hopefully, all of this will be done without sacrificing what's most important in my mind, the gameplay. The censorship is a shame, and it is an important topic to muse on, but as someone who enjoys digging up fossils as much as saw-blading heads off, I won't lose much sleep over it.
I suppose the disconcerting thing is that the content in Manhunt 2 didn't seem any different from a lot of the splatter films being released today. Of course since I haven't played Manhunt 2, I can't say for sure how the violence in Manhunt 2 compares to that of these movies, but without that firsthand experience, my mind is left to wonder. Are the rating boards treating the violent content of games more harshly because of the interactive nature of the medium? Is that fair? Furthermore, does the more immersive control scheme offered by the Wii skew judgement? Is this fair? Perhaps making the player the perpetrator of these brutal attacks as oppose to the victim somehow gives off an air of consent or encouragement in the minds of the reviewers. Maybe the majority still sees video games as a childhood pastime with no room for adult content. Still, it could be simpler than that. Manhunt 2 might very well be worst than GTA or God of War, gorier than Hostel or Saw, if we can fairly make that comparison.
Ultimately, the argument should not matter to me. I'm old enough to buy my own games and make my own decisions. The rating system should be a great tool for restricting the intake of minors and informing parents. The problem is that the AO rating makes it something more. If the rating system is merely for parents, than the inclusion of a M rating (for 17+) and an AO rating (for 18+) seems pretty redundant. The truth is that the AO rating does more, essentially barring a game from widespread, console release.
At my age and position in life, I should be able to ignore the ratings. If I'm buying the games for myself, than the only barriers I should have to procurement are my own reservations (luckily, I have none). I'm not saying that no topic is taboo and that there's never a reason to ban a game, but an AO rating shouldn't effectively be a ban.
More troubling is that this isn't really different from the home video market right now. Major retail like Wal-Mart don't stock NC-17 movies, leaving other specialty shops to provide an outlet. It's not the best solution, but retailers have a right, I guess, to choose what they stock, although that itself could lead to another murky topic if taken to the extreme. It's more or less a question of what's morally accepted in the mainstream, a view that will always be contested by someone. As long as there's more money in morality, that's just how it's gonna be.
In the end, the truth is both simpler and more complex than this whole meandering rant I've been on. If the integrity of the story and content absolutely mattered more than money to Rockstar and Monolith, they'd take the AO rating and stick their games on the computer. Of course there's more to this than income and integrity. It's a balancing act between what they want to sell, and what they're allowed to sell in the market they chosen. Rockstar will go back and retool the content, Monolith with watch what the code, both will benefit from a larger profit and audience than if they had an AO rating and, hopefully, all of this will be done without sacrificing what's most important in my mind, the gameplay. The censorship is a shame, and it is an important topic to muse on, but as someone who enjoys digging up fossils as much as saw-blading heads off, I won't lose much sleep over it.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Regret and the Sleeping Mind
tags:
dreams
I've said it before; there's no time I abhor more than the first minutes after waking from a pleasant dream. I always enjoy waking from and looking back on a nightmare, partly from relief, but mostly from excitement. On the other hand, opening my eyes only to realize I can't really fly or that I haven't obtained a PlayStation 3 always leaves me a bit crestfallen. Funnily enough, I'm more likely to attempt to go back to sleep if I had a nightmare than if I had a otherwise enjoyable dream, lest I awake with more regret.
One of my latest dreams (a pleasant one, unfortunately) has left me in a writing mood. I just don't know how it will come together yet, but I do know I want to write a something. I'll probably post something in a day or so.
One of my latest dreams (a pleasant one, unfortunately) has left me in a writing mood. I just don't know how it will come together yet, but I do know I want to write a something. I'll probably post something in a day or so.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Coin-Opining 4: Cool Crest
tags:
coin-opining,
games,
spring break
It's been kind of hard to think of what to write about the final arcade on our tour. It's probably due to the short amount of time we spent there. Ah, well. Next time, we do this, I'm gonna have a schedule all worked out for the whole week. You know how structure makes everything fun.
Detour Down E(Z) Street
I guess the most memorable part of the trip to Cool Crest was, well, the trip to Cool Crest. I momentarily forgot how badly Google Maps for Treo can screw directions up. Because of the applications weird way of finding directions, Google Maps managed to get the address for Cool Crest on East US Highway 40 (E US Highway 40), mistake it for E Street and lead us from Ameristar to a trailer park.
Oldies But Happies
Regardless of the detour, we still got to Cool Crest and put in some time on some of the machines. We were cutting it pretty close, but I got in a game of House of the Dead III, OutRun 2 and (of course) SuperNOVA. Like Northern Lights Arcade, it even had a Star Wars Arcade cabinet, which I'm sure Brent would have beaten if they didn't cut the power halfway through the last level.
It's kind of hard to pin down exactly how much I enjoyed Cool Crest. On the one hand, it's cheap, I like the atmosphere (couldn't tell you why) and it's the only place in town that I know of with OutRun. Unfortunately, it's kind of out of the way. Still it was pretty fun, and a definite return for the next Arcade Tour.
Detour Down E(Z) Street
I guess the most memorable part of the trip to Cool Crest was, well, the trip to Cool Crest. I momentarily forgot how badly Google Maps for Treo can screw directions up. Because of the applications weird way of finding directions, Google Maps managed to get the address for Cool Crest on East US Highway 40 (E US Highway 40), mistake it for E Street and lead us from Ameristar to a trailer park.
Oldies But Happies
Regardless of the detour, we still got to Cool Crest and put in some time on some of the machines. We were cutting it pretty close, but I got in a game of House of the Dead III, OutRun 2 and (of course) SuperNOVA. Like Northern Lights Arcade, it even had a Star Wars Arcade cabinet, which I'm sure Brent would have beaten if they didn't cut the power halfway through the last level.
It's kind of hard to pin down exactly how much I enjoyed Cool Crest. On the one hand, it's cheap, I like the atmosphere (couldn't tell you why) and it's the only place in town that I know of with OutRun. Unfortunately, it's kind of out of the way. Still it was pretty fun, and a definite return for the next Arcade Tour.
Coin-Opining 3: Ameristar's Hi-Vi Arcade
tags:
coin-opining,
games,
spring break
It's been awhile since I've been to Ameristar and it's Namco-based video hall. Even though it seemed to have the newest machines out of all the arcades, I still felt a bit ripped off at first.
Four-For-All
Almost every game I played at the Hi-Vi was a whopping four tokens. Granted, it was a bit of my own fault. The only attractions I partook of were the big ones like Dance Dance Revolution SuperNOVA and Mario Kart Arcade GP. Still it was no excuse, as it seemed you only get one race out of all the driving games there, regardless of how you place.
I guess Dave and Buster's is a bit smart, perhaps even nefarious in its way. Their proprietary credit system obscures the true cost of each game behind decimal points and Gold Status. You know I don't have time for math when all I wanna do is hurt someone.
No End to NOVA
I have this weird problem with DDR. It's weird in the sense that I'm totally aware of the situation, yet I'm powerless to do anything about it. You see, I tend to only play 8 or 9 foot songs throughout, and after the standard three songs, I'm usually quite tired. I say the standard three songs because the number of songs per round can be configured to more. Such is the case with the Dance Dance Revolution SuperNOVA machine at Ameristar. The slightly higher (four token) cost should have tipped me off, but I just assumed that they had overpriced the game along with all the others.
Three songs is the sweet spot for me, so you can imagine my enervation after the four stages of SuperNOVA. The extra stage I got afterwards didn't help matters either.
The Soul Ignites
Brent was playing the arcade version of Soul Calibur III when a girl with a PSP walks up. She couldn't have been out of elementary school since her stature put her eye level with the controls. The amusing part was her play-style. A fevered procession of joystick-twirling and button-mashing from the girl and Brent's generosity and lax play took him down to a fifth of his life. However, a few lucky hits brought him down to nearly the end of his health. It would have been funny to see him lose, but it was just as entertaining watching him win from his near-death situation. Truly that girl is a tournament player in the making.
The new games were a pleasant surprise for our third outing. It would be nice to hit the arcade after a film in the adjacent theater, or before hitting the $11 lunch buffet. Like Dave & Buster's Midway, Hi-Vi Arcade is another nice complement to an overall outing, just not the big show.
Four-For-All
Almost every game I played at the Hi-Vi was a whopping four tokens. Granted, it was a bit of my own fault. The only attractions I partook of were the big ones like Dance Dance Revolution SuperNOVA and Mario Kart Arcade GP. Still it was no excuse, as it seemed you only get one race out of all the driving games there, regardless of how you place.
I guess Dave and Buster's is a bit smart, perhaps even nefarious in its way. Their proprietary credit system obscures the true cost of each game behind decimal points and Gold Status. You know I don't have time for math when all I wanna do is hurt someone.
No End to NOVA
I have this weird problem with DDR. It's weird in the sense that I'm totally aware of the situation, yet I'm powerless to do anything about it. You see, I tend to only play 8 or 9 foot songs throughout, and after the standard three songs, I'm usually quite tired. I say the standard three songs because the number of songs per round can be configured to more. Such is the case with the Dance Dance Revolution SuperNOVA machine at Ameristar. The slightly higher (four token) cost should have tipped me off, but I just assumed that they had overpriced the game along with all the others.
Three songs is the sweet spot for me, so you can imagine my enervation after the four stages of SuperNOVA. The extra stage I got afterwards didn't help matters either.
The Soul Ignites
Brent was playing the arcade version of Soul Calibur III when a girl with a PSP walks up. She couldn't have been out of elementary school since her stature put her eye level with the controls. The amusing part was her play-style. A fevered procession of joystick-twirling and button-mashing from the girl and Brent's generosity and lax play took him down to a fifth of his life. However, a few lucky hits brought him down to nearly the end of his health. It would have been funny to see him lose, but it was just as entertaining watching him win from his near-death situation. Truly that girl is a tournament player in the making.
The new games were a pleasant surprise for our third outing. It would be nice to hit the arcade after a film in the adjacent theater, or before hitting the $11 lunch buffet. Like Dave & Buster's Midway, Hi-Vi Arcade is another nice complement to an overall outing, just not the big show.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Coin-Opining 2: Great Wolf Lodge's Northern Lights Arcade
tags:
coin-opining,
games,
spring break
I guess I should be thankful that The Midway didn't have a DDR machine. With the amount of credits I had and the fatigue I felt after Great Wolf Lodge, I would imagine I'd be dead right now.
The Frozen Desert
It's kind of hard to compare to Dave & Buster's sprawling display of lights and sound, even if half of it's redemption games. Still, Northern Lights just felt like a arcade, more so than D & B. Justin and Brent say that the ratio of video-to-redemption games was higher, which I guess I could believe. The comparison is blurred by the mixture of each type throughout the arcade as opposed to The Midway's half-and-half approach.
Slot-Loaded Samurai
One game that I tried for the first time was Mazan, a motion-sensing sword game. It's an interesting experience, but a bit hard to control. Subtle movements seem to be the key, as quick swipes caused my in-game sword to disappear from the screen. Once I got that down though, it was pretty fun. Parrying incoming attacks and countering really made the game. Still, there were times when wiggling the katana from side to side got me through.
It kind of makes me wonder how the swordplay in Red Steel pans out. It would be nice to see a game that plays like Mazan on the Wii. I know Dragon Quest Swords is coming out, but it doesn't look like it will have that parrying ability. Maybe No More Heroes will present some of the same swordplay elements.
Makes me think about trying Blade of Honor out and seeing how it compares.
"The rhythm's hard to ignore…"
Of course I spent most of my time on the dance stage, regardless of the health risks it presented to me. I think that I have an addiction. I just forgot how much fun DDR is with a crowd, and how out of practice I am. It's an interesting situation when you have to stretch before playing a game.
I remember when Dance Dance Revolution used to be the main attraction of every arcade around here. Now, it just doesn't seem to draw the same numbers anymore. It's a shame, since I use to think that if anything was gonna keep arcades going, it would be DDR.
It was another fun outing, but not something to do on a weekly basis.
The Frozen Desert
It's kind of hard to compare to Dave & Buster's sprawling display of lights and sound, even if half of it's redemption games. Still, Northern Lights just felt like a arcade, more so than D & B. Justin and Brent say that the ratio of video-to-redemption games was higher, which I guess I could believe. The comparison is blurred by the mixture of each type throughout the arcade as opposed to The Midway's half-and-half approach.
Slot-Loaded Samurai
One game that I tried for the first time was Mazan, a motion-sensing sword game. It's an interesting experience, but a bit hard to control. Subtle movements seem to be the key, as quick swipes caused my in-game sword to disappear from the screen. Once I got that down though, it was pretty fun. Parrying incoming attacks and countering really made the game. Still, there were times when wiggling the katana from side to side got me through.
It kind of makes me wonder how the swordplay in Red Steel pans out. It would be nice to see a game that plays like Mazan on the Wii. I know Dragon Quest Swords is coming out, but it doesn't look like it will have that parrying ability. Maybe No More Heroes will present some of the same swordplay elements.
Makes me think about trying Blade of Honor out and seeing how it compares.
"The rhythm's hard to ignore…"
Of course I spent most of my time on the dance stage, regardless of the health risks it presented to me. I think that I have an addiction. I just forgot how much fun DDR is with a crowd, and how out of practice I am. It's an interesting situation when you have to stretch before playing a game.
I remember when Dance Dance Revolution used to be the main attraction of every arcade around here. Now, it just doesn't seem to draw the same numbers anymore. It's a shame, since I use to think that if anything was gonna keep arcades going, it would be DDR.
It was another fun outing, but not something to do on a weekly basis.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Coin-Opining 1: Dave & Buster's Midway
tags:
coin-opining,
games,
spring break
Yesterday started our week-long plan for this spring break. It's not been since high school that my friends and I have made arcades a regular part of our routine, which shouldn't be a surprise. The consensus of the video game community states that the arcade is a dying breed, something I sorely wish wasn't the case.
It's not that I'm a fan of the ticket-dispensing redemption games or the MAME-based Ultracade cabinets. The best arcade games are the ones that present an experience that's difficult to reproduce at home. The Virtual Ons. The After Burners. The Out Runs. And even gun games like House of the Dead and Time Crisis could theoretically be played on a home console, it's just so much more enjoyable with a widescreen display ahead or a pedal underfoot. It's not just gun games, either. Dance games like DDR, which can be played enjoyably at home with a good dance pad, are much better in a public area because of the crowds they draw.
That's another aspect of the arcade; the people. While online services like Xbox Live are making it easier to connect to strangers for a quick game of Uno, it just feels better when the stranger's there at your side. Plus, the absence of anonymity seems to prevent the onslaught of jackass comments that are coupled with most online affairs. One of my most memorable arcade experiences happened when I was around 10. It was a game of The Simpsons with three teens unacquainted to me, and that sticks in my mind more than most other video game memories.
It's for those reasons and more that we are setting out to explore what's become of arcades in the immediate area. I've decided it would be fun to write about each experience. At the very least, it would finally give me something interesting to put in this blog.
Dave & Buster's: The Future of the Arcade?
Brent coined an interesting term; barcade. At least, I heard it from him first. It's the perfect word to describe Dave & Buster's.
I hate to admit it, but I fear that the time of stand-alone arcades like Aladdin's Castle has passed. It would be nice to go to a place where only gamers dwell, but I fear that relying on that audience of the hardcore is killing the arcade today. I just don't see many people trekking to the mall just to get in a game of Tekken.
It looks like "family fun" centers, where the kids vid-out and the adults enjoy a beer while watching the ballgame, are the best bet. It makes sense, though. You want to make sure that everybody in the group is having fun, and that includes the ones doing the driving. You go in, put your name down for a table and kill the hour-long wait with a few games of Daytona USA or Virtua Tennis 3. So how does The Midway, Dave & Buster's arcade, wear the mantle of Video Arcade Savior?
Power Up
Gone are the tokens of old. In their stead stands the future of arcade operation; the Power Card. You charge your Power Card with money to get a number of "chips", which in turn are deducted in varying amounts each time you add a credit to a game. The ones I played cost anywhere from 3 to 10 chips, but I am sure the range is greater than that. The economy of the affair didn't affect us too much, since I had a bunch of free cards given as reparations for the less-than-optimal experience my family had during Dave & Buster's opening months.
Now this seems like a cool idea, as long as you have a Power Card. If you have a Power Combo Card, your experience won't be as enjoyable. Power Combo Cards are non-transferable and non-rechargeable, so if you get stuck with a fraction of a chip, you're out of luck. You can't help but feel a little cheated, but I guess it's more incentive to purchase a Power Card.
House of the Sega
I never realized how big Sega was in the arcade. The Midway features a number of SEGA offerings, from the more recent House of the Dead 4 and Ghost Squad to the relative classics like The Lost World. With their massive screens and custom light guns, it's hard to imagine getting the same enjoyment out of home conversions of these games. Ghost Squad was an interesting change of pace with its submachine armaments, and though House of the Dead 4 was more of the same, I'm a sucker for a machine gun and grenades. Now if they'd only release a new Virtual On, I'd claim Sega the Kings of the Cabinet.
Joy Without the Joystick
One thing that Ben and Brent pointed out is that Dave & Buster's has a scarcity of a certain gaming icon; the joystick. Out of all the machines there, I counted only six with joysticks. Four of them were classic game compilations, one was Virtua Tennis 3 and the last was, a kid you not, a conversion of Madden for the arcade. This was a bit of a disappointment when I first realized it, but I think it's for the best.
Now when I make my arcade, a floor is going to be devoted to classic cabinets from the golden age, but new arcade games should be varied in their control schemes; different light guns, full enclosures and motion-capture cameras. These machines need to give me a reason not to try and play the same game at home. If they're going to spend the money on dedicated machines, they should be dedicated for a reason.
Eat, Drink, Play
Our romp through The Midway wasn't the most thrilling of affairs. I'm not in any hurry to return, though I did have fun. I think the problem is that no one part of Dave & Busters should be taken by itself. My own personal dilemma stems from who the arcade is truly meant for. It's there for restaurant patrons. It's there for kids. It's there for drinking buddies. It isn't there for gamers. They might have a wealth of new arcade offerings, but where are the classics? The vintage game selection left me wanting, and there wasn't a single fighting game in the joint. It's a great place to go if you want something to do while you wait for your table, but it's no main event. Where can a gamer go to face down a hover tank à la Cyber Sled, or join forces with five other mutants in X-Men. I want to Finish Him. I want to Shoot the Food.
It's a great idea and a great attempt, but it's probably not what those who would call themselves gamers want. I know I was left needing something more.
One thing's still true about the arcade, though; the redemption counter sucks.
It's not that I'm a fan of the ticket-dispensing redemption games or the MAME-based Ultracade cabinets. The best arcade games are the ones that present an experience that's difficult to reproduce at home. The Virtual Ons. The After Burners. The Out Runs. And even gun games like House of the Dead and Time Crisis could theoretically be played on a home console, it's just so much more enjoyable with a widescreen display ahead or a pedal underfoot. It's not just gun games, either. Dance games like DDR, which can be played enjoyably at home with a good dance pad, are much better in a public area because of the crowds they draw.
That's another aspect of the arcade; the people. While online services like Xbox Live are making it easier to connect to strangers for a quick game of Uno, it just feels better when the stranger's there at your side. Plus, the absence of anonymity seems to prevent the onslaught of jackass comments that are coupled with most online affairs. One of my most memorable arcade experiences happened when I was around 10. It was a game of The Simpsons with three teens unacquainted to me, and that sticks in my mind more than most other video game memories.
It's for those reasons and more that we are setting out to explore what's become of arcades in the immediate area. I've decided it would be fun to write about each experience. At the very least, it would finally give me something interesting to put in this blog.
Dave & Buster's: The Future of the Arcade?
Brent coined an interesting term; barcade. At least, I heard it from him first. It's the perfect word to describe Dave & Buster's.
I hate to admit it, but I fear that the time of stand-alone arcades like Aladdin's Castle has passed. It would be nice to go to a place where only gamers dwell, but I fear that relying on that audience of the hardcore is killing the arcade today. I just don't see many people trekking to the mall just to get in a game of Tekken.
It looks like "family fun" centers, where the kids vid-out and the adults enjoy a beer while watching the ballgame, are the best bet. It makes sense, though. You want to make sure that everybody in the group is having fun, and that includes the ones doing the driving. You go in, put your name down for a table and kill the hour-long wait with a few games of Daytona USA or Virtua Tennis 3. So how does The Midway, Dave & Buster's arcade, wear the mantle of Video Arcade Savior?
Power Up
Gone are the tokens of old. In their stead stands the future of arcade operation; the Power Card. You charge your Power Card with money to get a number of "chips", which in turn are deducted in varying amounts each time you add a credit to a game. The ones I played cost anywhere from 3 to 10 chips, but I am sure the range is greater than that. The economy of the affair didn't affect us too much, since I had a bunch of free cards given as reparations for the less-than-optimal experience my family had during Dave & Buster's opening months.
Now this seems like a cool idea, as long as you have a Power Card. If you have a Power Combo Card, your experience won't be as enjoyable. Power Combo Cards are non-transferable and non-rechargeable, so if you get stuck with a fraction of a chip, you're out of luck. You can't help but feel a little cheated, but I guess it's more incentive to purchase a Power Card.
House of the Sega
I never realized how big Sega was in the arcade. The Midway features a number of SEGA offerings, from the more recent House of the Dead 4 and Ghost Squad to the relative classics like The Lost World. With their massive screens and custom light guns, it's hard to imagine getting the same enjoyment out of home conversions of these games. Ghost Squad was an interesting change of pace with its submachine armaments, and though House of the Dead 4 was more of the same, I'm a sucker for a machine gun and grenades. Now if they'd only release a new Virtual On, I'd claim Sega the Kings of the Cabinet.
Joy Without the Joystick
One thing that Ben and Brent pointed out is that Dave & Buster's has a scarcity of a certain gaming icon; the joystick. Out of all the machines there, I counted only six with joysticks. Four of them were classic game compilations, one was Virtua Tennis 3 and the last was, a kid you not, a conversion of Madden for the arcade. This was a bit of a disappointment when I first realized it, but I think it's for the best.
Now when I make my arcade, a floor is going to be devoted to classic cabinets from the golden age, but new arcade games should be varied in their control schemes; different light guns, full enclosures and motion-capture cameras. These machines need to give me a reason not to try and play the same game at home. If they're going to spend the money on dedicated machines, they should be dedicated for a reason.
Eat, Drink, Play
Our romp through The Midway wasn't the most thrilling of affairs. I'm not in any hurry to return, though I did have fun. I think the problem is that no one part of Dave & Busters should be taken by itself. My own personal dilemma stems from who the arcade is truly meant for. It's there for restaurant patrons. It's there for kids. It's there for drinking buddies. It isn't there for gamers. They might have a wealth of new arcade offerings, but where are the classics? The vintage game selection left me wanting, and there wasn't a single fighting game in the joint. It's a great place to go if you want something to do while you wait for your table, but it's no main event. Where can a gamer go to face down a hover tank à la Cyber Sled, or join forces with five other mutants in X-Men. I want to Finish Him. I want to Shoot the Food.
It's a great idea and a great attempt, but it's probably not what those who would call themselves gamers want. I know I was left needing something more.
One thing's still true about the arcade, though; the redemption counter sucks.
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