I'll not be brief.
It's been some time since I've bothered with a livejournal, much less a public(ally appropriate) post. I felt it only right that I should return to talk a bit about the love of my life. You guessed it, video games.
I've been ruthlessly establishing my dominion of my roommate's XBOX 360 for the past week, and I've reached some conclusions about video gaming in general, aided as I was by such impressive titles as Bioshock and Mass Effect.
I'll get the ball rolling with Bioshock, one of the most fun and satisfying gaming experiences I've had for quite some time. The game is fucking scary, which is beautiful. It isn't that sort of meat-tank-baddies-popping-out-of-corner-accompanied-by-eerie-violin-quartet scary, though it does employ that device from time to time with great effect. It isn't the sort of gory absurdity you'll find in most Rockstar titles either. It doesn't even bother being scary all the time, making the emotional experience of the game more varied and satisfactory. Why is it scary? Elementary, the only thing scarier than a zombie is a sentient one, and the only thing scarier than that is a genetically modified sentient zombies spouting Bjork-esque non-sequiters and bible camp ditties. I find myself using the crouch button almost as much as the guns.
That aside, the game has its problems, most of which can be attributed to any RPG or game in general. First on the list is loading screens. Loading screens are an unfortunate necessity, because while hardware improvements over the last ten years have been drastic, polygon counts in games keep up pace-for-pace. What no game has seemed to think of, however, is having something for the gamer to bloody DO other than read hints elucidating nuances of gameplay as intricate as 'Shoot people in the head to do more damage.' My idea? Put a mini-game in there. Hell, make it optional for the Down's syndrome demographic who need two minutes space-out time every time they enter a goddamn room. To be fair to Mass Effect, it did try to cut down on loading screens around large areas by pre-loading all the areas within a building while you ride the elevator. Brilliant in theory, but what you end up with is the longest most uncomfortable elevator ride since the film adaptation of Michael Crichton's Sphere.
It wouldn't even have to be part of the game itself. The new consoles have fully functional, user friendly OPERATING SYSTEMS. You know what you can do with an OS? More than one fucking thing at once. So, why can't I fucking minimize my game? While my RAM engorges itself on the countryside of Cyrodil, maybe I'd like to play a round of Frogger instead of sitting idly by unable to so much as make myself a hot ham and cheese for fear of a camp-whoring bandits and/or zombies (genetically modified or otherwise).
Another relic of ancient gaming that should die an auto-erotic asphyxiation caliber embarrassing death is the food system. In a game-world with beautifully crafted enemies, a competent physics engine, and immersive storyline such as Bioshock, I find myself wondering why wolfing down 18 packages of potato chips and a bottle of vodka doesn't send me into tachycardia rather than help me recover from multiple gunshot wounds. The only decently realistic nutrition system I've ever seen was in the Elder Scrolls series which has FECKING MAGIC IN IT.
Another problem I have with Bioshock as an RPG, and any shooter exempting the Resident Evil titles is the concept of maximum ammo. Let me tell you something, a makeshift double-barreled shotgun doesn't just cease to function whenever its wielder carries more than 48 rounds; in fact I've known a few to cheerfully call for bloodshed when you hit 52, but I digress. In any case, it's called an inventory screen, and they can be made intuitively and well with both spatial and weight requirements. Making a decent inventory function is somewhat tough, but can also make the game more challenging and strategic. And if I'd like 15 pounds of my weight limit to be a shotgun, 132 pounds of ammunition for said shotgun, and the last 3 to be low-fat chocolate wafers than by gum, that's my prerogative.
Another thing I found more than a little perplexing is the absence of a melee button. Faced with a Big Daddy (reminiscent of a Scooby Doo villain in any episode involving a submarine) I normally pull out my grenade launcher,but it doesn't take long for the bastard to figure out that once he gets within 5 meters of me the tables turn harder than Elton John in the nineties. I now find myself in excellent position to bash him one in the face, and so I press the B button to do so. Except B doesn't stand for Bash-Him-One-in-the-face, it stands for instantly-use-entire-first-aid-kit-yes-including-the-allergy-medicines-and-little-cotton-swabs. If I want to actually hit him I'll need to cycle through my weapons until I get the wrench. A wrench. A bleeding wrench.
I'm wading through an underwater ruin filled entirely by enormous metal pipes, knives, and tetanus hazards of varying mass and hue and the first metal knick-knack I come across is the only thing my character will willingly swing about for the entire game.
I had more to say, but I'll get back to it. I have to go make a few litres of pure E. coli.
I've been ruthlessly establishing my dominion of my roommate's XBOX 360 for the past week, and I've reached some conclusions about video gaming in general, aided as I was by such impressive titles as Bioshock and Mass Effect.
I'll get the ball rolling with Bioshock, one of the most fun and satisfying gaming experiences I've had for quite some time. The game is fucking scary, which is beautiful. It isn't that sort of meat-tank-baddies-popping-out-of-corner-accompanied-by-eerie-violin-quartet scary, though it does employ that device from time to time with great effect. It isn't the sort of gory absurdity you'll find in most Rockstar titles either. It doesn't even bother being scary all the time, making the emotional experience of the game more varied and satisfactory. Why is it scary? Elementary, the only thing scarier than a zombie is a sentient one, and the only thing scarier than that is a genetically modified sentient zombies spouting Bjork-esque non-sequiters and bible camp ditties. I find myself using the crouch button almost as much as the guns.
That aside, the game has its problems, most of which can be attributed to any RPG or game in general. First on the list is loading screens. Loading screens are an unfortunate necessity, because while hardware improvements over the last ten years have been drastic, polygon counts in games keep up pace-for-pace. What no game has seemed to think of, however, is having something for the gamer to bloody DO other than read hints elucidating nuances of gameplay as intricate as 'Shoot people in the head to do more damage.' My idea? Put a mini-game in there. Hell, make it optional for the Down's syndrome demographic who need two minutes space-out time every time they enter a goddamn room. To be fair to Mass Effect, it did try to cut down on loading screens around large areas by pre-loading all the areas within a building while you ride the elevator. Brilliant in theory, but what you end up with is the longest most uncomfortable elevator ride since the film adaptation of Michael Crichton's Sphere.
It wouldn't even have to be part of the game itself. The new consoles have fully functional, user friendly OPERATING SYSTEMS. You know what you can do with an OS? More than one fucking thing at once. So, why can't I fucking minimize my game? While my RAM engorges itself on the countryside of Cyrodil, maybe I'd like to play a round of Frogger instead of sitting idly by unable to so much as make myself a hot ham and cheese for fear of a camp-whoring bandits and/or zombies (genetically modified or otherwise).
Another relic of ancient gaming that should die an auto-erotic asphyxiation caliber embarrassing death is the food system. In a game-world with beautifully crafted enemies, a competent physics engine, and immersive storyline such as Bioshock, I find myself wondering why wolfing down 18 packages of potato chips and a bottle of vodka doesn't send me into tachycardia rather than help me recover from multiple gunshot wounds. The only decently realistic nutrition system I've ever seen was in the Elder Scrolls series which has FECKING MAGIC IN IT.
Another problem I have with Bioshock as an RPG, and any shooter exempting the Resident Evil titles is the concept of maximum ammo. Let me tell you something, a makeshift double-barreled shotgun doesn't just cease to function whenever its wielder carries more than 48 rounds; in fact I've known a few to cheerfully call for bloodshed when you hit 52, but I digress. In any case, it's called an inventory screen, and they can be made intuitively and well with both spatial and weight requirements. Making a decent inventory function is somewhat tough, but can also make the game more challenging and strategic. And if I'd like 15 pounds of my weight limit to be a shotgun, 132 pounds of ammunition for said shotgun, and the last 3 to be low-fat chocolate wafers than by gum, that's my prerogative.
Another thing I found more than a little perplexing is the absence of a melee button. Faced with a Big Daddy (reminiscent of a Scooby Doo villain in any episode involving a submarine) I normally pull out my grenade launcher,but it doesn't take long for the bastard to figure out that once he gets within 5 meters of me the tables turn harder than Elton John in the nineties. I now find myself in excellent position to bash him one in the face, and so I press the B button to do so. Except B doesn't stand for Bash-Him-One-in-the-face, it stands for instantly-use-entire-first-aid-kit-yes-including-the-allergy-medicines-and-little-cotton-swabs. If I want to actually hit him I'll need to cycle through my weapons until I get the wrench. A wrench. A bleeding wrench.
I'm wading through an underwater ruin filled entirely by enormous metal pipes, knives, and tetanus hazards of varying mass and hue and the first metal knick-knack I come across is the only thing my character will willingly swing about for the entire game.
I had more to say, but I'll get back to it. I have to go make a few litres of pure E. coli.