So another author Googled themselves and came across this blog, a festering boil of hate and bitterness nestled within the Internet’s sweaty, unshaven armpit. There is quite literally no other way to find this blog. I don’t advertise and I’m not a member of some blogging clique. The blog itself is a writing experiment that serves as both exercise and an outlet for someone who probably should be in therapy but hey, video games.
And still they come because authors, particularly of the fan fiction persuasion, have nothing better to do than to search for themselves hoping for just a bit of vindication and recognition. After all, if they’re popular on the Internet then screw the outside world. I get that, I really do. I also get how one could mistake this obscure little blog as an honest-to-goodness resource for game-related reviews and critiques because I do talk about games an awful darn lot and use key industry words such as graphics, sound, and Nintendo. What I don’t get is how someone can be offended because I wanted to play Otomedius Excellent instead of Skyrim.
I played Skyrim recently and, discovering that it’s really nothing more than Fallout 3 but with dragons and fruity renaissance speech, replaced it with Otomedius Excellent. Granted, Otomedius Excellent is really nothing more than Gradius with tits and archaic graphics but at least I can instantly play the game without having to journey across a mountain of tutorials. Also, and this is the best bit, I can turn it off after a half hour, feeling completely satisfied with my gaming experience.
For the record, I actually enjoyed Portal. If you can tune out the Internet hype and lower your expectations you’ll find a genuinely clever game with a satirical wit that subtly grows as the player progresses through the test chambers. As I’ve stated before, the Internet just can’t handle subtle. They took all of the satire and throwaway jokes and ran with it, turning what was once good into obnoxious memes.
Valve took notice of this. “People liked the funny,” says Gabe Newell, who inexplicably sounds like a Dalek in my head, “Up the funny! UP! THE! FUN! NY!” And up the funny they did. If the first Portal was satire, the sequel is parody. Bravely tossing subtlety aside, Valve puts the comedy right in the player’s face to ensure that you don’t miss a second of the funny. Enter: Wheatley.
Jesus Christ, Wheatley.
I used to hate DDR. A lot. Imagine going into an arcade and seeing that your beloved Virtua Fighter 3 machine has been unceremoniously replaced with a loud, ugly typing tutor for your feet (this only works if you first imagine that you don’t have a life). It was an insultingly simple game—step on the arrows in sync with on-screen cues while being assaulted with terrible music—and I was going to have none of it. Every chance I got I’d mock the game and those who play it, sometimes while they were playing it.
I was really popular in college.
Luke Plunkett is a sensitive, complex man. And a contradiction. Though typically relegated to passing off fan art as newsworthy articles on Kotaku, the higher-ups at Gawker sometimes throw him a game to review to keep his status as a gamer in check. Enter Duke Nukem Forever.
Around the time of Duke Nukem Forever’s release Kotaku began spamming their blog with articles and first-impressions regarding the nearly legendary lost game, all of which featured a rather obvious negative slant. When a commenter calls them out on this, editor-in-chief Brian Crecente simply replies with “We haven’t reviewed the game yet” followed by ellipses and one of those invisible Not-Me ghosts from Family Circus.
You’ve probably heard that, as a species, human beings only consciously use 10% of our brains. This is total crap, but for the sake of a clever opening let’s say we all believe it. This would leave 90% of our brains open for potential improvement or, if you’re anything like me, storing completely useless knowledge that will never benefit anyone anywhere anytime ever.
There’s something to be said about the art of discovery in games. Something like, “Hey, whatever happened to the art of discovery in games?” Alice: Madness Returns is absolutely gorgeous and American McGee makes sure you damn well appreciate every single gorgeous aspect of his game. He grabs the player by the shirt and drags them from one interesting locale to the next saying, “See? See?! Do you know how long this took to make?!” in a terrible British accent.