Let's Not Jump To Conclusions

But Wait! There's More!

2005-07-27T22:22:00.000+02:00

When watching an infomercial, one needs to resort to a mental tactic that is often applied to the average Hollywood blockbuster - suspension of disbelief. It really is the only way to get past some of the contrivances introduced by corporations that are clearly far more concerned with selling a product than with something as inconsequential as logic. These extended commercials weave a world every bit as outlandish as something out of a Star Wars film, a world where friends stand in the kitchen for hours, discussing the merits of a new range of non-stick pans, all whilst asking each other redundant questions and unleashing disturbingly wholesome smiles. In this alternate universe, overly friendly strangers constantly barge into your home, right before spilling wine on your carpet and then offering to clean it immediately using a wondrous machine of potentially alien design.

I made a brief foray into this very world this afternoon and witnessed an enthusiastic demonstration of a new magical substance that can be applied to your car in order to ensure its safety.

Scene:

Two guys are standing in a suitably deserted locale and are, unsurpisingly, having a fascinating and completely one-sided conversation regarding this amazing product. After rubbing it on your precious vehicle, it is supposed to protect the shiny paintwork from the harshest of conditions and the most extravagant of attacks from key-wielding ex-girlfriends.

At this point, one gentleman expresses disbelief in the other's statements. Oh ye of little faith! With the car (which happens to be the same model as mine) conveniently parked in the background, it seems only obvious that a demonstration is in order. At the snap of a finger, several men equipped with acetelyne blowtorches materialize and apply their tools to the side of the car. I'm not certain how things would play out with any other kind of blowtorch, but the fact that "Acetelyne Blowtorch" flashed prominently on the screen must be of some importance.

Regardless, the black scorching of the super-heated flames is easily wiped away by a mere cloth, revealing a still shiny layer of paint underneath. Truly miraculous! Being regularly attacked on the roads by lunatics with blowtorches, I was obviously intrigued right away and could definitely see my need for such a product. However, I was truly convinced by what transpired next.

"Well? Do you believe me now?"

"Gee...I'm not sure. What if something even WORSE happens to my car?"

"Worse than being beset by intense ACETELYNE flames?"

"Hey, you never know! Ha ha!"

"Ha ha indeed! Let's blow your car up!"

"Okay!"

So, in a moment of unmatched cinematic intensity, a pair of gloved hands slowly opens a box labeled "Explosives" and removes a trio of red cylinders attached to a long fuse. The package is placed beneath the car and set alight.

KERPLOW! (or whatever suitable sound effect you have in mind)

With smoldering debris raining from the sky all around them and a thick plume of smoke enveloping what little remains of the car, the two men waltz towards the closest discernible piece of charred metal.

"Wow, the car was completely obliterated!"

The other guy pauses for a moment, bends down and wipes off an obscure piece of metal wedged into the ground.

"Yes, but just look at the paintjob!"

Naturally, I leapt out of my seat right away, rushed off to the nearest store and purchased this fantastic product. Tonight, I can rest easy with the fact that in the event of my car exploding and being reduced to smithereens, I won't have to worry about the paint getting scratched.

Xbox Living

2005-07-11T21:53:00.000+02:00

If you happen to be perusing this blog and the thought "Gee, if only I could play some games with this guy on Xbox Live!" crosses your mind, go ahead and hit me up on Live. Unsurprisingly, my Gamertag is MrGenuchi.

That is all.

Frogging

2005-07-11T20:37:00.000+02:00

Though work continues on a secret project, I've managed to set aside some time for this blog, my own little corner of the internet. Doing so wasn't easy, since

A) I really don't have a lot of free time at the moment.

and

B) Everybody knows the internet is a giant, circular hut.

There is somewhat of a sordid and tumultous history between gamers, Peter Molyneaux and his overzealous action-RPG, Fable. A twisted love triangle built upon broken promises and doomed peasant villages, the relationship between Peter, his creation and those that purchased it became even more strained this week, particularly if you were part of the group that anxiously awaited the arrival of Fable ever since it's Project Ego days. By now, everybody knows that the game simply failed to deliver on its life altering ambitions, though that was only the beginning of the saga.

Several months ago, Microsoft revealed that Fable would be ported to the PC, under the new moniker Fable: The Lost Chapters. Now, these chapters weren't so much lost as they were scrapped in order to finish Fable on time. New quests, new weapons, new areas and new hairstyles would be included in this definitive version of Molyneaux's epic, things that Xbox owners would simply have to miss out on. This, despite the fact that they had been the original supporters and had been waiting the longest in the first place.

Fast-forward to this week and you'll be intrigued to note that Microsoft is porting Fable: The Lost Chapters to the Xbox. That's right, the game has gone from Xbox exclusive, to completed PC version and then back to Xbox game. Now, the issues regarding Xbox owners being the last to receive the updated version of Fable (and they have to pay $20 for it, natch) are all worth discussing, but I'd like to point out something that could easily become an alarming trend.

Leap-frog porting.

"Well, it looks like I won't be taking that trip to the exotic island paradise of Guam this year."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been working for Evil Axis Games for ten years, and this has been the most pathetic bonus I've ever received. I guess Flamin' Racing 2006 didn't sell all that well."

"Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about that. We released on every platform and advertised the hell out of it."

"Yeah, I know. If only...there was a way we could easily double sales. Like...if everybody bought the same game...twice."

"Oh, dream on. Nobody would buy the same game twice. There would have to be some sort of incentive."

"Like an extra car or something. But we couldn't release two versions on the same platform..."

"People would catch on to our mantra of corporate greed if we did that."

"I was going to say it wouldn't be the right thing to do, but that one works too."

"Wait. Wait. I just had this idea."

"How we could sell the same game twice?"

"No, about these singing ice-cream cones. Kids would love them!"

"Uh..."

"Wait! I just had this other idea too! About selling the same game twice?"

"Yes?"

"It's easy. First, we bring out the PS2 version. We wait until people buy that one. Then, we port it over to Xbox, only we include a new track and a new car."

"And custom soundtracks?"

"What are you trying to do, bankrupt us? No, just a new track and a new car. We wait for people to buy that one...uh, we call it the Director's Cut."

"And then what?"

"We port the Director's Cut back to the PS2! It costs us almost nothing and people buy it!"

"And then we add another track and another car and port it back to the Xbox?"

"You mean like...a director's cut of the director's cut?"

"Exactly! CHA-CHING!"

"Why would a director cut his own cut?"

"He could change his mind, you know? We could call it the Director's Other, Even Better Cut."

"Guam, here we come!"

Post-E3 Madness

2005-05-30T21:40:00.000+02:00

Okay. So it did happen again. I don't owe you people anything.

I'm right in the middle of exams and have tons of E3 articles to write up - that's why I haven't posted anything new. I'll be updating as soon as time allows. It'll be a funny post about seafood and interesting hats.

The Name Is Still Fundamentally Stupid

2005-04-25T20:47:00.000+02:00

At last, the veil of silence has been shattered into smithereens and the next-generation Xbox has been revealed.

BUT FIRST!

Shattering the veil of silence? That is an entirely non-sensical statement and clearly needs further elaboration. How does one go about shattering a veil, exactly? Surely, in order to destroy a silky piece of cloth as it gracefully flutters in the breeze, one would have to tear it to shreds or cut it to ribbons - that's certainly not the same as shattering it into smithereens. It's a conundrum, to be sure, though its solution is well within reach when we consider the possibilities that the power of science provides.

By dipping said veil of silence into a vat of liquid nitrogen (a cauldron of liquid nitrogen should be equally effective), we will freeze it and force it into the realm of solids. Having accomplished that, we will traverse to the roof of a formidably high building and send the veil plummeting to its doom. Upon its impact with the concrete floor or the unprotected head of an old lady passing by, it will shatter into an untold number of pieces. Smithereens, if you will. Thus, we will have shattered a veil. Ingenious.

To rephrase: At last, the veil of silence has been dipped in liquid nitrogen and dropped from a great height, possibly injuring an innocent senior citizen in the process, and the next-generation Xbox has been revealed!

I like it.

Kleptomaniac Robot Boy

2005-04-17T01:31:00.000+02:00

For the last few days, I've been playing the Xbox version of Mega Man Anniversary Collection, a perfectly emulated compilation of the Blue Bomber's side-scrolling exploits. It's been an interesting trip down memory lane, most of all in how this particular lane is filled with bottomless pits, floating platforms and ludicrously named robots intent on putting an end to my feeble existence. The gameplay is as enjoyable and challenging as ever, though the many pixel-perfect jumps required can sometimes lead one to think that "frustrating" and "sadistic" would be more appropriate words to use.It's all part of the charm though, as struggling to get past a certain point and finally getting it right is always immensely satisfying. All you need is some perseverance, patience and...third thing starting with "p".

It's amazing how much of this stuff you can remember. I expect this is largely to blame on all the time spent playing these games on the NES, minus the luxury of a save function. You got three lives and you were happy with that. Once they were gone, you'd go right back to the start of the level. The constant repetition of attempting and failing quite clearly represents a form of brainwashing, with useful tactics and boss patterns being engraved into the darkest recesses of the human brain for all eternity.

Apparently, that's an effect similar to what the artists (and I use that word with the utmost trepidation) behind the cover art for the original Mega Man release had in mind. If you value the sanctity of your mind, you will cast your eyes on something more pleasant...like the severed head of a squirrel or a burning train-wreck (or a combination of those).

This is the kind of thing that makes you wonder why certain human beings are allowed to continue their existence and it casts the very future of humanity in a dim, constantly flickering light. I don't even know where to begin. Perhaps I should make the astute observation that the gun-wielding freak pictured above is most certainly not Mega Man. The uncomfortably strange pose and vacant facial expression leads me to believe that this is, in fact, Seizure Man. I could also discuss his ridiculous helmet, frighteningly collossal shoulders and brightly colored codpiece...but I suspect it would be safer not to. This catastrophic illustration is either the result of a tragic misunderstanding or a critical mass of apathy.

"I just received our next assignment! It's from this obscure, Japanese company called Capcom."
"Oh? What is it that they need?"
"Well, they want us to put our considerable artistic skills towards an enticing cover for this new videogame."
"Videogames? I'm not really familiar with that territory."
"Relax, it's for kids. They don't care."
"Well, shouldn't we play the game first? To learn what it's about and draw, you know, inspiration? And stuff?"
"Friend, that attitude will get you nowhere. We have the title. MEGA MAN. That's all we need. We get inspiration from LIFE."
"That doesn't say much at all."
"Sure it does! For one, we know it's about a man."
"That narrows it down."
"Actually, it doesn't, but that's where we get to the next part."
"I was being sarcastic."
"So, he's a man, right? But he's also...MEGA."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means what it means. He's MEGA. He's really, really good."
"Good at what?"
"Being MEGA...MEGA-licious! MEGA-tastic!"
"You are destroying the English language. Stop. Please."
"Are you drawing anything yet?"
"I...fine. He's a Mega Man. What else?"
"He has a gun."
"What? Why does he have a gun?"
"Dude, you're not listening. He's MEGA. Mega Men have guns. It's been like that all through the ages."
"You can't draw conclusions like that!"
"Drawing! That's what you should be doing!"
"This won't end well."

Actually, it went well enough to warrant this additional abomination:

WRONG. I can only feel pity. Pity for the guy in that ridiculous costume, pity for the dragon that mistakenly wandered off its generic fantasy game cover and pity for whoever approved this piece of garbage.

"Okay, we're doing the cover for a game called Mega Man 2. Is anybody familiar with that?"
"Yes! I played the first game. Man, Iceman's stage was tough, what with all those flying platforms. Good thing I had the Magnetic Beam though, it was really -"
"I need you to stop being a geek now. Tell me what it's about."
"Sure. It's about this boy robot that -"
"Wait a second...boy robot?"
"Yes."
"I thought it would be about a man...a mega man."
"No, Mega Man is a boy robot."
"That doesn't make sense. I don't believe you."
"It's the truth. See, he has to fight evil robots, like Cut Man, Spark Man or -"
"So...he's fighting other men?"
"No, other robots."
"Then why isn't it Cut Robot or Spark Robot?"
"Anyway, he has to steal their powers from them."
"Steal? Is this something we want children exposed to? Rampant klemptomania?"
"Well, that's just how Mega Man is."
"But he's not Mega Man...he's Kleptomaniac Robot Boy!"
"I don't think you're following."
"Damn right! What are these Japanese companies pushing off on our fine American children? We're putting a goddamn MAN on the cover. And a dragon for good measure."

And with that, I'm off to fight Clown Man and Search Man. Yeah, Capcom pretty much ran out of good names after Mega Man 4.

Mmm...Pie.

2005-04-08T21:28:00.000+02:00

Geez, has it been that long? This won't happen again.

I sometimes wonder if I've got my finger jabbed into one too many pies. In fact, I firmly believe that I'm currently poking, prodding and generally violating just about every pastry in the goddamn bakery. There's the cake of education, which is hard and bitter on the outside but sweet and creamy on the inside. There's my commitment to Digital Entertainment News, which comes in the form of multiple cookies on a weekly basis, each varying wildly in terms of size and quality. I'm trying to get a webcomic off the ground, maintaining relations with my friends and attempting to get enough sleep. I can't really work those three into my baking analogy. It was stupid to begin with, anyway.

This is also one of my projects, and I apologize for my delayed return. Updates will continue at a regular pace from now on*.

* Note: This statement becomes invalid upon my death**.

** Note: This may also imply a loss of internet connection, electricity or fingers.

You Are In a Non-Descript Room

2005-03-07T22:07:00.000+02:00

A good friend of mine - and by good friend I mean demented sociopath that won't leave me alone - recently linked me to Habeus Dorkus, an amusing online text adventure starring Harvey Birdman. Using the old Infocom text adventures as a foundation and an eclectic mixture of mind-altering substances as inspiration, the game challenges you to explore a world entirely described by text. It's an amusing diversion and as far as I'm concerned, any game that enables you to capture miniature prostitutes (hint: use the shrink gun) is completely worthy of mention. Now, playing a game that assaults the player with reams of text may sound archaic and unpleasant to some, but there was a time when that passed as legitimate entertainment. All you needed was a good story and a healthy dose of...

Of course, there is an inherent danger involved with text adventures. The ones that had slightly lower aspirations often recreated the feeling of being trapped in a foreign country without a means of translation. Communicating even the most basic concept became an impossibility, resulting in a flurry of waving arms and strained vocal chords - a situation that applies both to the metaphor and poor text adventures. Indeed, the latter construction can destroy a man's soul if left unchecked.

You are in a non-descript room.
>> look room
You are in a non-descript room.
>> examine room
There is a table.
>> look table
The table resembles a small table, with several table-like qualities.
>> examine table
There is a button.
>> look button
The button practically begs to be pressed.
>> press button
Invalid command
>> push button
Invalid command
>> use button
Invalid command
>> stomp button
Invalid command
>> lovingly caress button
Invalid command
>> savagely slam button
Invalid command
>> punch button
Invalid command
>> vehemently abuse button
Invalid command
>> obliterate button with mighty fists of rage
You successfully activate the...no wait, Invalid command.
>> examine button
There is no button.
>> yes there is
No, there isn't.
>> it was just there a moment ago
You are delusional.
>> fine look under table
You see a swirling vortex of interdimensional translucence looking upon a world torn between untouched beauty and industrial terror.
>> enter vortex
Invalid command
>> jump through vortex
Invalid command
>> crawl towards vortex
Invalid command
>> is there a vortex
No.
>> examine room
There is a computer, connected to a monitor and keyboard. It is switched on.
>> examine computer
You read the following text on the screen. "You are in a non-descript room."
>> type look room

And that would be the point where you type "commit suicide" in the command prompt of life.

Well, That's Not Good

2005-02-24T21:31:00.000+02:00

Disaster Strikes As Catastrophe Looms!

Instead of going through my normal routine and flying to university with my trusty magical umbrella, I decided today that my transportation would be handled by the offensively colored lump of metal which is commonly referred to as "car". As you can see above, my decision was clearly in error, producing results that are less than satisfactory. Now, the damage may not seem as extensive when captured by a camera and reproduced on a monitor, but believe me that those dents are quite nasty, especially when you take the size of my "car" into account.

It's awfully small. There are many times where I'll just be driving along, only to have the sun become mysteriously blocked out and an ominous shadow envelop all that I can see. Far from being a mysterious supernatural event, a glance upwards quickly reveals the underside of a truck driving right over me, my vehicle quaintly slipping beneath its hulking steel body and between its towering tires. There is a positive side to all this, however, as in the situations where I'm unable find parking I can simply slip my "car" into any moderately sized backpack and take it with me. So you see, those dents are rather noticeable. They're like majestically deep valleys, yearning to be explored with vigor and loads of hiking equipment. Only the hands of a good panelbeater can reunite the roaming hills with the green earth and...well, you get the idea.

Despite its shortcomings, my "car" didn't really deserve to be assaulted in such a manner. The driver of the attacking vehicle was polite and admitted that he wasn't paying attention (a fundamental part of driving, I must point out) when he turned into the parking lane and consequently T-boned me, but that's not going to stop me from at least vilifying his car...

Its eyes were burning with crimson flame and it belched thick plumes of asphyxiating smoke as it bore down upon my completely unaware car.... Right before the impact, it let out a terrifying laughter, one laced with the sounds of creaking pistons and screeching windscreen wipers!

It was quite unsettling as I heard my feeble "car" bending in new and original ways. And speaking of settling, this guy is supposed to be paying for the damages, what with it being his fault and all. Insurance isn't going to cover it though, since they don't cover accidents that take place within parking terrains. I guess that means I'll simply have to try harder and have a real accident.

In videogaming news, I'm currently counting down the minutes until my download of the Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory single player demo completes. Not only is it an innovative continuation of a fantastic series, it also sports shiny graphics of a calibre that will make grown men weep tears of joy. Grab it for yourself over here.

It's No Joke

2005-02-19T20:41:00.000+02:00

Q: How much would a UMD movie, playable on the PSP, set you back?
A: You can expect to pay $20 to $30.

That is truly a hilarious punchline to one of the worst jokes you're ever likely to experience in the videogaming industry. I honestly can't fathom how Sony came up with that pricetag, but it certainly didn't come about from informed discussion or detailed research. No, I suspect the Magic 8-Ball on Ken Kutaragi's desk is to blame for this.

"Hey, should we sell those UMD movies at reasonable and enirely sane prices?"

*shakes vigorously*

"OUTLOOK GOOD"

"Uh...I'll take that as a no?"

Okay, so a UMD movie costs between 20 and 30 dollars. This concept could only possibly work if these extreme events were to suddenly occur:

(1) A mad scientist unleashes an army of insidious nano-bots that prey on hapless DVDs and completely destroy everything from Laurence of Arabia to Friends Seasons 1 through 10.

Probability: Un-bloody-likely.

A quick trip to Amazon reveals that the forthcoming 2-disc DVD of Brad Bird's post-Iron Giant masterpiece, The Incredibles, can be purchased for $17.99. Residing on pristine DVD, the film will boast 5.1 surround sound, crystal clear video clarity and several hours worth of behind-the-scenes footage. When we compare this to a UMD, which has inferior capabilities and no extras worth mentioning, we discover that it's an unfair comparison and Sony's pint-sized disc is way out of its league.

(2) Studios release several irrefutably amazing and mesmerizing films exclusively on UMD.

Probability: Laughable.

It would be corporate insanity for a studio to ignore the much larger DVD market in order to release a film exclusively on UMD, so you can rest assured that if a movie finds its drunken way onto UMD, it will have come from a superior DVD version. Sony's own attempts to spruce up the UMD movie list have been embarassingly poor, what with their choices of such instant classics as XXX, Once Upon a Time In Mexico, Hellboy and Resident Evil: Apocalypse (haha). The inclusion of House of Flying Daggers is more sensible, but that choice quickly succumbs to the "why don't I just get the DVD?" argument.

(3) The world's population is inexplicably reduced to a bunch of quivering consumer zombies and become unable to discern between getting their money's worth and being ripped off.

Probability: Frighteningly likely...if it hasn't happened already.

Let's face it, you'd have to be an imbecile of epic proportions to pay $30 for a UMD movie. It's an inferior format for film, it's only viewable on a comparitively tiny screen and the selection of films is, at the moment, spectacularly inept.

What's truly disturbing, however, is that many people ARE imbeciles. Those six million people that bought Enter the Matrix and blissfully ignored Beyond Good & Evil? I'm talking about them. They'll happily buy UMD movies, thinking they're getting a great deal. What a sad state of affairs.

So, what I'm really trying to say is...Earth is doomed. Yeah.

Ineptitude Rising

2005-02-08T23:08:00.000+02:00

I break the law on a daily basis.

It's true. Now, before visions of a smug videogaming geek shoving innocent old ladies into oncoming traffic or stealing soup from poorly nourished orphans run rife throughout your mind, let me clarify that my expeditions to the wrong side of the law aren't nearly as drastic. You see, I drive around in my loosely concocted system of wheels, pulleys, liqourice strips and hyper-active hamsters (hereafter referred to as "car") without being in possession of a driver's license. Now, I do have a learner's license, meaning I can recognize fundamental signs and complex automotive equipment such as steering wheels, but a technicality within the law states that this particular piece of parchment only allows me to drive with a license-holder in the passenger seat. Since I don't know anybody that's available for a daily chaparone routine, it means I have to choose between staying at home or going to university. An easy choice...but people tell me that education is important.

As soon as you become 18 years of age, you're allowed to go and take the driver's license test - a pseudo-obstacle course that's taken under the supervision of a highly unenthusiastic human claiming to be an expert on matters related to driving. I hadn't been interested in said test until recently, when I finally obtained my "car". I suppose I could have gone using somebody else's vehicle, but I have certain reservations about piloting highly expensive machinery belonging to other people. As you can see, my act of driving without a license isn't totally without reason. I took driving lessons, I obey the rules of the road and I'm mindful about the dangers of high-speed travel. In addition...those pedestrians had it coming.

So, I phoned the licensing department today in order to make an appointment for this all-important test. The man on the other end seems courteous enough and even asks for and addresses me by my name. It's an obvious trick that creates the impression of giving a damn, often resorted to by seedy salesmen and overzealous fast food attendants.

"I'd like to make an appointment for a driver's license."
"The learner's test or the driver's test?"
"The driver's test."
"I'm sorry, but we're fully booked through the whole month of February."
"Okay...so could you schedule it for March then?"
"No."
"No?"
"You'll have to phone back later, I'm afraid."
"Why?"
"Because February is fully booked."
"Yes, but why can't you schedule it for March?"
"Because we're fully booked."
"In February."
"Yes."
"So..does you system only have a one-month calendar or something?"
[ Note the regrettable mistake I make at this point by assuming that the man is actually using a computer and not a greasy scrap of paper dug out of a refuse bag. ]
"No...it's just that February is fully booked and I can't give you an appointment then."
"Not even for next month?"
"No, I can't do that."

I could never get to the bottom of this mystery. In fact, I'm not even sure said mystery has a bottom...just an endless abyss of puzzling and frustrating ineptitude. Either this guy had no idea what he was doing or he wasn't given the correct tools to let him function in his job. Regardless, I now have to phone back frequently and hope that there's a competent entity on the other line, ready to help me into becoming an official law-abiding citizen.

Since this is a videogame blog, I should probably mention, you know, a videogame. Well, I'm really looking forward to Advent Rising, an upcoming sci-fi action game that's being published by Majesco. Admittedly, that's not a company known for their genre-defining masterpieces, though Bloodrayne sure came close! (that was sarcasm, folks) Don't let that deter you from checking this game out, as it looks to be not only a fantastic third-person action game but an epic piece of storytelling. Planned as a trilogy and written by esteemed author Orson Scott Card, the game incorporates sci-fi weaponry, high-powered vehicles, weird aliens, hand-to-hand combat and psychic powers into the latest and ridiculously beautiful build of the Unreal engine.

If you want to get the best idea of what it's like, have a gander at this spectacular trailer. Judging by it, it looks like the game will have plenty of epic boss encounters and at least one emotionally gripping groin-kicking scene. If you're observant you'll also notice the main character twitch defensively when there's an explosion nearby. Nice touch! The most intriguing part of the game, however, is the branching storyline that promises to be just as throughtful and dynamic as Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, with the only difference being that your actions in the first game will carry through all the way to the sequels, assuming that you'll even want to play them in the first place. The game launches in May on the Xbox and the PC - let's hope this series gets off to a good start.

At Great Cost

2005-02-03T21:57:00.000+02:00

Since everybody's talking about it and I don't have any particularly scintillating topics prepared, I suppose I should mention today's announcement regarding the Sony PSP. If anything, Sony has appended yet another note of caution to my mental "I want a PSP, but..." deliberation regarding their new machine. Snugly situated below may become infused with the ghost of an evil Chinese warlord and attempt to murder my family is the line costs 250 freaking US dollars, an addition which may now force me into thinking twice before buying a PSP.

Naturally, after thinking twice and possibly even a third time, I will buy a PSP. A fundamental failure in human logic and an utter abuse of common sense will accompany my purchase, but I'm appalled to say that it is inevitable. You see, I find it excruciatingly difficult to turn down a viable gaming platform. If there's any sort of chance that some great games will surface on the machine in question, I believe it's worth the investment. To ignore any particular avenue of gaming is like looking at the world with one eye closed - you're just not getting the full picture. In addition to that, depth perception is a little off and homophobic men will beat you up on occasion because they thought you were winking at them.

And before you point it out, I consider the N-Gage a platform that offers nothing of value to the gamer, lest that be uncontrollable laughter.

If I've made it sound as if the PSP's a total grudge purchase, akin to hesitantly buying a bag of unending pestilence, I can assure you that it's not all that bad. Though I do expect several locusts to attack me when I open the packaging, the pint-sized Playstation does have several things going for it. From a purely aesthetic viewpoint, it's unnervingly sexy. I openly admit that some part of me is attracted to it, whilst another part is freaking out about said attraction. And then there's the part that always experiences the urge to dance. I am suppressing it at this very moment.

Back at E3 2004, the only thing that I thought was particularly outstanding about the PSP was its pristine screen, a large window that looks upon magnificence. The graphics capabilities are also beyond those of Nintendo's DS, though the importance of that advantage is considerably less than the PSP's impressive third-party developer support. The number of games coming out during the "launch window" (marketing jargon that vaguely indicates a period of time) is noteworthy, especially considering the presence of Metal Gear Acid (an intriguing card-based strategy stealth game) and Wipeout Pure, a beautiful new entry into the futuristic racing series.

In the time it took you to glance at the above picture, a PSP's battery has gone from fully charged to thoroughly dead. Well, that's a minor exaggeration, but the thing doesn't last very long at all. A measly two hours is a reasonable expectation and four hours is rather hopeful, so somewhere in-between your gaming experience is going to be cut short. This is something that killed the Sega Game Gear and really should have been remedied before the PSP's launch. Having to run back to a power outlet every so often flies in the face of the system's portability and any hopes of uninterrupted gameplay experiences. Imagine if there was an indestructible cable attaching your it to a pole in your house. You'd only be able to get to a certain point in before being yanked back. With the PSP, you'll always have to be wary of how often you'll be able to get back to a source of electricity.

Another issue I have with the PSP is that it's essentially broken. In their attempts to accomodate the hefty screen, Sony screwed over the loyal square button and as a result, it doesn't really work all that well. You can see an informative diagram here and read my more elaborate thoughts on this grievious error (as well as Sony's embarassingly deranged response) in the latest version of the Dignews Rant Box. I love how Sony tells the world that it's an intentional design choice as if that's meant to make it better.
"We made the square button suck...on purpose!"
"Really? Oh, we thought it was some sort of manufacturing glitch or an understandable human error..."
"Nope, we were planning on ruining your combos all along. But at least we're honest about it, right?"

So, what is it that you get for 250 dollars? What exactly is in this PSP "Value" Pack? Well, let me tell you, fine readers.

(1) A cloth.
Holy Yes! My brain is overwhelmed with all the possibilities this fabric of majesty invites! Not only can I use it to clean the easily scratched screen of my PSP, it can act as a conduit for the power of...imagination. One cannot put a monetary value on such a gift! With the correct placement of this cloth, I can become a cowboy, or an exotic dancer, or a terrorist! Who needs games when this mantle of magic can bring my slightest whims to startling fruition!

(2) A soft case.
Clearly, this is the perfect way to protect your PSP from environmental dangers - play games with the PSP tucked away inside its case. Sure, you won't be able to see what's happening on the screen, but since you won't realize when the battery dies and the machine switches off, there's a potential for hours upon hours of undisturbed gameplay.

(3) AC adaptor.
Uh-oh. Could this be some kind of...foreshadowing?

(4) Headphones with remote control.
I'm actually not familiar with these. Does the remote control influence the volume of the headphones? If so, couldn't you just adjust the volume on the PSP itself...what with it being arm's length away? I have no idea.

(5) Battery pack.
Although you'll hardly notice it's there...

(6) 32MB Memory Stick Duo
Wow, that's a lot of memory...if you live in 1998. Apart from storing small saved game files, a measly 32MB is practically worthless. One of the PSP's key features is its playback of music or video files from memory sticks and in order to take advantage of that, you'll need a whole lot more megabytes (not to mention money).

(7) A UMD disc with non-interactive demonstrations
Geez, at least the Nintendo gave us a demo of Metroid Prime: Hunters with the DS.

(8) Spider-Man 2 UMD version (only in the first million packs sold)
Actually, this a nice extra, if only because it saves you from actually committing the logic suicide that is purchasing a movie on UMD. You already own your favorite movie on DVD, so now you go and buy it again...only now it has inferior audio and video quality AND it's only watchable on a comparitively small screen? You moron.

(9) Sony PSP
Wow, that almost makes the PSP worth buying!

Ah, I jest. I'd be lying if I said the PSP wasn't overpriced and that I wouldn't prefer a cheaper, stand-alone package. I'd also be lying if I said I was the Pope, but you must have already known that. The truth is that the PSP is a viable gaming platform for a hardcore gamer that must sample as many games as he can, and that means I'll probably pick it up when I'm in the US during the merry month of May. However! I'm still going to complain incessantly about it. Just you wait and see.

Tom Clancy's Symbiote Cell

2005-01-30T21:32:00.000+02:00

Here's an amusing scenario for you: One of the books to recently enter the New York Time's bestsellers list is one bearing the illustrious name of Tom Clancy. Now, that in itself isn't all that exciting, considering that the author has practically established a fully furnished and astutely decorated apartment in that particular part of the New York Times. What is of interest, however, is that the book in question is Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell.

That name should ring a bell and set off several piercing alarms in the minds of gamers, since it's the title of Ubisoft's utterly superb series of stealth games. Let's go back to the very first Splinter Cell, deep in its development cycle. Ubisoft is rightly proud of the progress achieved, but the company feels that this game of espionage and sleek gadgets requires an added boost in order to make a name for itself and rack up the sales. They already own the rights to Tom Clancy's name...so it doesn't take much thought to conclude that placing the distinguished author's title on the box will bode well commercially. Heck, the game's heavily inspired by him, so it won't even seem as inappropriate as Tom Clancy's Pro Knitting or Tom Clancy's Rayman.

Of course, one could argue that just by being an awesome game (which later received the vastly superior sequel, Pandora Tomorrow) helped it fly off the shelves, it is an undeniable fact that the Tom Clancy name, at the very least, made more people glance in its direction. Unlike Rainbow Six, the game wasn't based off an actual Clancy book and the author's actual involvement with development really wasn't that substantial. The bottom line? Ubisoft slaps the popular Tom Clancy name on their product in order to make loads of money.

Fast-forward to the present time and we see that Splinter Cell is a phenomenon, with total sales almost reaching ten million copies sold across all platforms. We also view Tom Clancy sitting in a plush swivel-chair, his eyes switching back and forth between a blank laptop screen and an empty packet of Raisinets (they were delicious). In a dramatic twist, Tom Clancy draws inspiration from...Tom Clancy! He recognizes the immense popularity of Splinter Cell, and decides to use that to the advantage of his latest name-building book. Now, this new novel wasn't actually written by him (the author is one David Michaels) but nevertheless, it's a Tom Clancy book that cashes in on another Tom Clancy property. The bottom line? Tom Clancy slaps the popular Ubisoft game on his product in order to make loads of money.

This hilarious situation has now officially reached the point where Tom Clancy is responsible for Splinter Cell's success...and Splinter Cell is responsible for Tom Clancy's success. That's damn funny, as well as a perfect example of a powerful symbiote relationship within the industry. Now go and impress your friends with this fascinating knowledge!

Blade Trinity Sucks (and other HILARIOUS puns)

2005-01-27T01:05:00.000+02:00

I actually paid money to see Blade: Trinity. This is a heinous act that is much like having someone pulverize your fingers with a hammer, one by one, and then giving them cash in return (which, of course, has to be fished out of a wallet with your mouth). It's one of those movies that not only managed to be a lousy sequel, it actually insulted me with its idiotic plot, paper-thin characters and pathetic attempt at crafting an action film. There are so many problems with this vampire film, most of all in its brainless writing (a plague that permeates most films), but to mention them all would require an entire, dedicated website and not just a mere blog entry. So, here we go:

- First off, the direction was going for frenetic action and instead gave us a jarring mess that would embarass most music videos and is in serious need of some Ritalin. The opening credits establish this early on by obliterating any sense of continuity with annoying flashes of text. Action scenes are later ruined by annoying flashes of light.

- The storyline is impressive considering that it was clearly created by a bunch of lonely amoeba. So, Dracula's in this temple, a temple which nobody has ever bothered to investigate and has simply been festering away in some desert for thousands of years, waiting to be entered by a band of low-life vampires. The informative text at the bottom of the screen tells us it's located in Syria...but then it's later mentioned that the temple is in Iraq. Okay then.

- Dracula is totally miscast. He looks like a bouncer at a nightclub, not the lord of darkness.

- Hannibal King (Ryan Reynolds) is probably the most entertaining part of the film - quite sad considering that instead of giving him a unique character, the writers (aforementioned amoeba) put in special effort to write Van Wilder INTO a Blade film.

- "Hey Blade! Look at this impossibly minute and featureless piece of armor we picked up! By running it through our SUPER DUPER COMPUTER, we can completely reconstruct Dracula's armor. See, that's what it looked like EXACTLY. Also, we can tell that he reads Tom Clancy novels, enjoys long walks on the beach and that he's lactose intolerant...and a Virgo!"

- Okay, so the cops show up at Blade's HQ and are keen to arrest him. Naturally, the place is rigged with explosives should the long and highly flammable arm of the law ever show up. The cops run in and the place EXPLODES, erupting in flames and flying debris. The cop in charge grabs his radio:
"WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE?!"
This guy is a moron. The reply he receives will no doubt be a deleted scene on the DVD.
"Uh, we fucking blew up! We're like dead and stuff, sir."

- Kris Kristofferson can't act his way out of a paper bag in this one (not that any of the other actors are much better), spouting his lines out as if reading them from a cue card whilst experiencing the heaviest of hangovers. The only reason he gets an early and forgettable death is to answer the audience's question: "So, when does he die already?"

- Okay, so Dracula is coming after the Nightstalkers. AHA! He'll never get through their unbelievably tight and ingeniously devised security system. There are security cameras everywhere and their respective screens are being monitored closely by....the blind woman! Ingenious!

And finally...

- They screwed up a Jessica Biel shower scene. Wasted opportunity.

That's all for now, folks. Fang you very much!

(That was painful.)

Survival Instincts

2005-01-20T21:06:00.000+02:00

Well, I've returned from my hiking trip to the Drakensberg mountains, with nothing but aching muscles, fond memories and an infinitely disturbing photographic image of a man licking a cat. Naturally, this is one of many images and stories I shall inflict upon your unshielded and wholly unprepared psyches within the next few days, so you'd best be prepared. I was most definitely ready for this grueling trek into the wilds, a journey which would see me forsake the wonders of the 21st century (such as televisions, computers and dry shoes) for rain-swept scenery and viciously steep vistas - and it's all thanks to videogames.

I'm referring to Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater, a game which not only entertained me beyond measure but also imparted crucial skills necessary for survival in archaic and unforgiving terrain. Marking a triumphant end to Hideo Kojima's trilogy of stealthy spies, ludicrous codenames and very large robots, I have no qualms in claiming that Snake Eater is a masterpiece and the best game in the series, something which is both surprising and unsurprising. It's a shock because the original game, which has recently been remade in the form of Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes is easily one of the greatest games of all time. Back in 1998, it was hugely innovative and provided a slightly different approach to the stealth genre which had been shoved into hardcore fruition with Thief: The Dark Project the same year. The game's radar system meant that instead of lurking in shadows, you had to utilize the environment and a keen sense of timing in order to avoid your foes. It also featured interesting characters (brought to life with expert voice acting), a fantastic storyline and hugely creative and memorable boss encounters.

And then we get to Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty and the "unsurprising" part of my description. The great thing about this game was how it pulled out the rug of just about every gamer in existence. Everybody was ready to accompany Solid Snake on his next great adventure, only to be greeted by the whiny and floppy-haired pinnacle of androgeny, Raiden. Now, he wasn't really that bad when he was wearing clothes (Uncomfortable gaming moment #13: Controlling a character who's naked). He had a cool cartwheel move. No, the real problem came in terms of the story. You see, the problem with pulling the rug out from under your audience is that they may crack their skulls on the impact with the ground, something which apparently happened to the writers. Whilst the first game got a little preachy with its anti-nuke message, the second game went completely overboard with philosophical ramblings towards the end and eventually seemed to be attacking the very cohesivity of your brain with inane banter. It was as if the game's plot was a carefully arranged castle of cards, each plot twist carefully resting on the one below...and then somebody came and dropped a fucking hedgehog on top of it. I mean, that's not even a card.

It's not all bad though, since the gameplay was still excellent, pushing the original game's mechanics into new territory with very impressive graphics and clever AI. Most people seem to forget that aspect of the title, even when they're complaining about the cop-out of an ending. Yeah, the game must have been absolutely horrible if you played all the way until the end, huh? To sum up, it was a great game that lost the plot (very literally) and didn't quite live up to the lofty expectations generated by the seminal original.

So, Snake Eater. Taking place in 1964 (and thus well before the events of the first two games), the game throws out most of the series' traditions and throws Solid Snake into a critter-infested jungle. It should come as no surprise that in a game called Snake Eater, you will, in fact, eat snakes. And bats. And squirrels. And crocodiles. And parrots (well, only one, but still). You can capture animals alive or dead, all for the purpose of keeping Snake's belly filled and his stamina high. Should it start dropping, his wounds will heal at a slower pace, his aim will get wonky and his stomach growling will alert nearby guards. It's a nicely implemented system and never needs so much maintenance as to become annoying. There's also a cure system in place, which requires you to dig out bullets with a knife, sew up deep cuts and apply splints to broken bones. Indeed, all the activities which came in extremely handy on my trip to the mountains.

Of course, the meat of the game is the stealth, and you're unlikely to find a finer example of it than what's served up here. First of all, the Soliton radar system is gone. No more pattern avoidance and no more keeping tabs on which way a guard is looking. It makes the game so much better, but you have to watch out: It might make you scream at the TV at first. If you play MGS3 like you played the first two games, you will become an angry guard magnet and be shot repeatedly. You'll become enormously frustrated and invent new lewd words as you smash your PS2 controller on your forehead. The trick with the game is to use your motion sensor, binoculars and directional microphone to slowly and patiently suss out guard patrols as you lie in wait for them and their easily slit throats. The game's camouflage system allows you to don clothing that's most similar to the environment and you'd do well to constantly change it and stay hidden. It gives you a huge advantage, since it allows you to see the enemies whilst remaining invisible from their sight. If you become accustomed to this deeper and slower style of play, you'll realize just how amazingly crafted this title is.

The game also brings the cinematic goodies to the next level. The main characters are extremely well developed and the more straightforward plot (though it still hits you over the head with some big surprises in the end) is always engrossing. Perfect voice acting, a superb musical score and Hideo Kojima's energetic direction makes for some amazing cutscenes, especially towards the game's ludicrously mezmerizing climax. Combining elements from the Indiana Jones films, Ico, James Bond and then effortlessly blending cutscenes and gameplay, MGS3's ending sequence is the stuff of legend. It's unbelievable and is in itself worth the price of admission.

Oh, and let's not forget the boss battles. Wow. Just wow. Konami hits a supremely creative note here with this team of eccentric villains, most evident in a boss battle with a devious sniper in an enormous jungle that will utterly destroy your nerves and probably captivate you for over an hour of pure tension. To say more would ruin it, so I'll just leave you with this crucial advice: Watch your back. Seriously.

Also: Go get the game. Right now. Or I'll be forced to show you that picture with the cat and the licking thereof.

The Obligatory Introduction

2005-01-13T23:30:00.000+02:00

Hello.

Well, I suppose I should start this spectacular and inherently mesmerizing blog by telling you a bit about myself. I can safely say that I lead two lives here in South Africa (bring on the inevitable zebra jokes), though neither of them are quite as exciting as the spy connotation one would normally attach to such a phrase. The first life involves me functioning as a student at the University of the Witwatersrand, with my majors being Computer Science and Mathematics. I'm in my final year, and I hope to clutch that magical scroll that has "degree" written on it by the end of 2005. Since I'm not exactly the most dedicated of students, that scroll may have to come from the lifeless hands of another student.

Just kidding. (OR AM I??!)

The second life I lead is far more interesting and far less constructive. I review videogames and write loads of articles for the nigh-penultimate source for videogame news and information, Digital Entertainment News, though everybody just calls it Dignews. So, what's it like playing videogames for a living?

Actually, I hate that question. Whenever someone spews forth that disgusting combination of words in my general direction, it is either accompanied by an unnatural amount of smirking, a patronizing tone of voice or a pair of eyes rolling back. For some reason, people have this idea that playing games is something geeky kids do when they're not picking their noses or having their lunch money taken at school, something that's the exact opposite of work. When I play games in my exceedingly rare free time, then yes, it's just for fun and it's not contributing to society in any tangible manner. However! When I'm playing a game in order to review it - that is to say, in order to inform other people of its qualities and problems - I'm doing work.

"Yeah yeah. Getting free games and then being forced to play them. Life must be so hard for you."

I'm not complaining. Sure, I might start gibbering madly and screaming at the curtains whenever I have to play through something like Enter the Matrix (which, in case you didn't know, is a glossy pile of garbage), but you'll never find me complaining about any aspect of my job (and you'd better not be thinking "He should put that word in quotation marks.") I love writing and I love videogames, so putting the two together is like an orgy of fun for me. I still consider it work though, and my logic behind such a decision isn't that hard to follow.

As senior editor, my responsibilities are not only to get my own reviews, previews and features done, but also to ensure that everybody else's work is top-notch. I spend time every day doing stuff for Dignews, time I could easily spend on my personal pile of games or more ambitious projects such as obtaining female companionship. Did I mention I don't get paid? I could argue that I'm rewarded with free games, gratitude and the social prestige (or perhaps not the last one), but there's not much in the way of that material that simultaneously talks, makes the world go round and corrupts politicians. Thus, what I do is - and I hate sounding so trite - a labor of love.

That's why I get annoyed when people cast a dim and flickering light on this career. It's actually quite insulting when someone takes something you've put real effort in - without the need for reward - and then drags it into a dark part of society and places it into a "yeah, but what's your REAL job" category. It's like your mother spending her Sunday afternoon baking you delicious cookies, only for you to respond by chucking them onto the floor and stomping them to bits. And then you kick her in the head before setting her apron on fire. You bastard.

Phew. The moral of the story is: Reviewing videogames is a real job. Millions of people are looking to me for advice on which game should be getting fifty of their dollars (adjust for whatever currency you use - chances are it's a decent amount), and I'm going to do my best to make certain they don't go and buy something like Chaos Legion.

That's partly the purpose of my blog - another outlet for me to try and get you to experience some of the games you might have missed in the past or some of the games you don't want to miss right now. They could be obscure japanese cooking sims or hyped-up-the-wazoo first-person shooters, but I can say with a good deal of certainty that they'll be good. Starting next week, I'll give you some of my recommendations and you're welcome to agree or disagree (even though that would be inconsiderate and futile). If you'd like to make your own suggestion, particularly in how you can't believe what a jerk I am for not mentioning Game X, please do so. I'll most likely tell you which games to avoid like a kiss-chase in a leper colony from time to time, so keep checking back in the coming weeks.

Well, that's enough narcissistic blathering. I'm off to a hiking trip with my friends and shall duly return on Tuesday. With all my limbs attached, even.