Portal Play-by-Play

This will be at least the fourth or fifth time I’ve played Portal all the way through. I’m waiting until my clock reads exactly 8 to start, so I can have a decent idea of how long it takes me…although to be fair, this won’t be a strict time attack, since I’ll be pausing at the end of each level to make notes and comments. Sadly (pssh), I’m playing on my PS3, so I can’t take my own screenshots…though approximately 178 billion people* have played Portal, so I should be able to find screenshots for any particular instance of anything.

* - Approximation based on the population of just one planet in the section of the galaxy ruled by Xenu

Well, 8:00 is almost here, so I’ll have to return to this later.

Level 00 – Start time: 8:00PM

Commentary: ON

The game starts you out, as the commentary remarks, in a visually unique room as a way of demonstrating how portals work. The only way to leave the room is through a portal which appears, and the portals are positioned in a way to guarantee that the player can see themselves/Chell. It’s also, thus, positioned in a way that you can see where you were and where you are going. The commentary remarks that some players thought Portals put you in another dimension, or into some sort of ‘Portal Space’, rather than simply putting  you out on the other side of the portal.

The commentary points out the observation windows. Having played the game before, I know that there is no one behind them, but they are placed rather conspicuously, with just enough detail visible to make out tables and chairs, desks, computers, etc. First-time players will likely never notice that there are no people behind the windows; I certainly didn’t. Now, of course, the emptiness of the observation rooms is glaringly obvious, and disconcerting.

The test chambers have a hint of grime and dirt to them, which a player might not notice if they’re not looking for it (despite the fact that everything has a very antiseptic look to it, with everything being in clean whites and grays).

Notice, for instance, the rust(?) stains beneath the tube feeding into the bed in the Relaxation Vault, and the scuff marks along the side.

This is our first introduction to GLaDOS, as well, who really doesn’t give you much direction in this area, mostly just exposition. There are several commentary bubbles here, if you play with commentary on, which remark on things such as demonstrating immediately how portals work by forcing you into one, as well as leaving an ‘audio cue’ in the form of the radio, showing you that you have, indeed, been placed exactly outside the room you were just in. The commentary also references Narbacular Drop, and how they took the player feedback from that project and used it to refine Portal. Remarks are also made about how the entire game is basically one long tutorial. Sort of puts the ridiculously long tutorials of many new games into perspective; the tutorial for FFXIII may have been, like, 20 hours long, but at least it wasn’t the entire game.

ATB Tutorial TL;DR Version: Mash X.

Level 01 – Start Time: 8:27 PM

Commentary: ON

As we saw when this level was played in class, a lot of first-time players have difficulty figuring out where they’re supposed to go for this level. They had a tough time with the timing, as well as figuring out what, exactly they were supposed to do. The commentary remarks that this room can be solved with no fewer than 5 portal movements, so it requires a solid understanding of the game mechanics in order to proceed. I was able to get in and out very quickly, but it was designed so that stumbling around aimlessly would lead you to dead ends. The level is trying to get you to understand that a firm idea of your destination is necessary to proceed in the game. This room also makes use of frosted glass, teasing you by showing the rooms you need to reach are right next to you, and if only you could use the cube to break the glass, then you could waltz right through. The game has not yet introduced the mechanic of ‘portals can’t be placed on glass’, though.

Fun fact: when you play this level with the commentary on, the length of time the first commentary bubble takes to play is the exact length of time necessary for the portal leading to the Cube Room to pop up.

Level 02 – Start Time: 8:35 PM

Commentary: ON

The Portal Gun is now in my possession. This is the first level in which GLaDOS starts to seem less than benevolent (though still, at this point, relatively benign). She remarks on the Material Emancipation Grid removing teeth, and informs you of how dangerous the Portal Gun is (though she assures you the portals themselves are safe, a mechanic taught in the first chamber).

Commentary reveals that early players would miss the fact that the Portal Gun was even there, and so a mandatory waiting period behind glass was introduced, to allow players to see what was making the portals all this time. The fact that there are big arrows on the floor pointing to it is a good hint, as well. They also added some really loud audio cues to indicate something was there, and made big, flashy particle effects. Interesting to me, by the way, was the fact that our first-time players were afraid of the Portal Gun particle effects; whenever they saw a portal being fired in their direction, they ran. Granted, the Energy Beads would kill you, but the penalty for touching the beads (instant death) carried over to any shiny thing flying through the air. Our new players thought that the portal particle effect would harm them as well.

Level 03 – Start Time: 8:43 PM

Commentary: ON

The commentary reveals that this level was designed to demonstrate that Portals are bi-directional; you are forced to go in and out through both colors of portals, showing that there is no ‘in’ or ‘out’ portal. Just like how there are no ‘up’ or ‘down’ stairs.

And these stairs don't go anywhere.

The commentary also remarks on how the ‘fizzlers’ (Emancipation Grids) are used to keep people from portalling across level loads, and how the idea was used in later levels, much to the frustration of players everywhere.

This is also one of the first levels in which you can remove all of the cameras. Doing so can earn you an achievement in the Xbox and PC versions. (Shockingly, the Orange Box doesn’t have any Trophies for the PS3 version. Not shockingly, this is touted as a disadvantage regarding the PS3 version next to other versions.)

Level 04 – Start Time: 8:52 PM

Commentary: ON

In this chamber, curious players can find that it is not possible to press buttons with the weight of the observation cameras you knocked off of the wall with your portal gun. You have to use something at least as heavy as Chell, i.e. Chell herself, or a cube.

The commentary explained how early test floors were designed to have only one solution, in order to properly demonstrate the mechanics being taught. This required redesigns of early levels, since many of their play testers were remarkably practical. In this level, they had to add barriers to keep people from just portalling across the level without actually using the button/cube mechanic.

The glass barrier between the button and the exit was not originally there. This level is the first to use 'You can't put a portal on glass' as a rule.

As a consequence, this room also introduced the ‘non-portal-able’ surface of the ‘black wall’.

Chamber 05 – Start Time: 9:07 PM

Commentary: ON

This floor really demonstrates the idea that the chambers are modular, as pointed out in the commentary. It shows that raised platforms are sometimes raised by hydraulic lifts, and gives the impression that the area beneath the test chambers is somehow heated (warm red-orange glow from under the grates). I also had fun removing the cameras here, which prompted dialogue from GLaDOS, despite the fact that she wasn’t supposed to talk to you in this room.

The commentary also remarks that the early floor layouts involved more clutter, like in Half-Life 2, which was distracting. They eliminated the clutter from the main testing floors, which really served to delineate the early floors from the final test. (This idea of cluttered floors also seems to be coming back in Portal 2, which makes sense in several contexts.)

Level 06 – Start Time: 9:15 PM

Commentary: ON

On this floor, players meet the High-Energy Pellet, and learn that it is rather uncaring for human life. The walls of this room are made entirely of ‘black wall’, and cannot be portalled on. The only surface which will hold a portal is the floor and the ceiling. This is also one of the first rooms where death is easy; in past rooms, if the player could somehow maneuver their way underneath a cube drop spot, they could be killed, but the cubes were often dropped before players could even reach the delivery chutes. Here, however, there is a moving energy pellet that can kill you.

Level 07 – Start Time: 9:23 PM

Commentary: ON

The rooms are starting to feature more ambient sound and music, such as mechanical noises, and sounds associated specifically with the energy pellet. Observant players will even note that there is a visual change in the energy pellet as it grows closer and closer to its own evaporation; it grows dimmer and dimmer before popping out of existence. While standing on the moving platform, players can hear a lot of mechanical ‘whooshing’ coming from the open vents underneath the light track, and can see gently swaying cords and pipes.

This floor introduces the moving platform, as well, and the commentary describes the difficulty in implementing an appropriate track. Originally, the track was a physical rail, and players would run across it to the end rather than actually playing the floor out. The programmers then introduced death as a penalty for touching the rail, which proved to be too frustrating for players (since now, a miscalculation in timing your drop onto a platform would kill you). The programmers finally settled on this harmless laser beam. Audio cues become more important here, to help the player time their drops onto the platform; even though touching the rail no longer results in death, it still results in ‘missing the platform’, which is still a little frustrating.

As I moved between floors, I noticed that all the elevator doors had the same faded rust stains, seeming to imply that it’s the same elevator over and over again…or, perhaps, that all of the floors are just the same two floors, redesigned by GLaDOS over and over again. (We later find that isn’t the case, but it certainly appears to be possible.)

Floor 08 – Start Time: 9:36 PM

Commentary: ON

This playthrough is the first time I noticed that there are subtle indicator tiles on the ceiling to help you position portals for dropping onto platforms.

This is also the first floor to introduce the grody water. The subtle musical cues are still there, but now there is a gross bubbling underneath it from the floor. Ick.

Commentary reveals that this was originally the first floor with the energy pellets, which resulted in too many new mechanics at once (water, energy pellets, and moving platforms), as well as too difficult a puzzle for two brand-new (and deadly) mechanics; essentially, when this room was the first energy-pellet room, it was teaching ‘basically, anything new will kill you’ and ‘all of the floors from here on out will be ridiculously challenging puzzles’. Instead, they added the two prior floors to introduce the pellets, then pellets and their relationship to platforms, and then finally water.

As our first-time players showed us, this redirection puzzle is actually fairly difficult. Our players had a compulsion to go through every portal they made, it seemed, heedless of the dangers ahead. They saw an orange portal, and even though there was an energy pellet flying right in front of it, they felt they had to go through it immediately.

Fun Fact: I ended up glitching  the game here by activating the commentary bubble, then walking through a portal immediately above it. Creating the portal above the bubble resulted in a little semi-transparent box appearing next to my blue portal, which caused me to ‘catch’ on my downward fall by about a fifth of a second. Ironically, the commentary bubble was discussing the mechanics of ‘collision’ involving portals, or, how the game renders the player’s ability to go through portals and how the portals affect objects on the other side. (An earlier commentary bubble explained that originally, it took 500 milliseconds for the portals to appear, because the game had to re-render the room on the other side, which resulted in a noticeable lag in gameplay. The programmers instead created things such as a limited fixed camera inside the portals, which only showed a limited field of view for the image of the portal itself, and created a ‘bubble’ of temporary altered physics to allow for objects such as cubes to pass through portals without the 500 millisecond delay.)

Floor 09 – Start Time: 9:51 PM

Commentary ON

This is the ‘impossible’ room. I hung out here for a while to hear all of GLaDOS’s lines. She offered me immediate cake if I quit right now. I also discovered that you cannot see your own reflection in the hydraulic elements of the rooms. Our first-time players in class had a lot of difficulty in figuring this room out, and I remember having difficulty with it as well. The fizzler grid proved to be a challenge for new players in general, who kept trying to carry things through the grid. Granted, they had never tried carrying anything through a grid before (i.e. the radio from the relaxation vault, a cube, a camera, etc.) so they had no reason to think they couldn’t carry a cube through (I don’t think they quite caught it when GLaDOS explained that you couldn’t carry things through the grid).

I’m fairly certain this room is the one which you replay during the final area, as a demonstration of how much easier the game has become now that you have mastery over not only both portals, but all of the game mechanics.

The commentary here points out that the visual design of the game involves ‘sharp’ vs. ‘curved’; ‘sharp’ objects and shapes denote background areas, while ‘curved’ objects and shapes denote things the player can interact with (i.e. buttons, doors, elevators the faces of the cubes even have circles on them). This was not something I had ever actively noticed and connected (‘Hey, the doors and buttons are all round–that must mean that ’round things = interactivity’!).

Floor 10 – Start Time: 10:04 PM

Commentary: ON

This floor introduces the ‘fling’ maneuver, and, as the commentary describes, they had to explicitly state what the object for this room was, which they don’t do for any other rooms. The commentary for the game also pointed out something that I hadn’t noticed before while playing–checkerboard patterns on the floor indicates that the player is supposed to place a portal there for flinging purposes.

so I herd u leik figurin out wher 2 pur ur portalz by trial and errur

Floor 11 – Start Time: I forget

Commentary: ON

So, yeah, this was the floor where you get the ability to fire orange portals, as well. The key phrase for this level is ‘hurry up and wait’. You have to wait for the orange portal to appear where you need it before you can carry out your next steps. However, there are many timed elements, such as the buttons on pedestals. The ticking clock sound cue informs you that you’d better haul ass, but the fact that the floor is made of death encourages you to move slowly.

The commentary also remarked that the design of this floor was meant to keep the orange portal gun in view at all times, thus the large amount of glass in this floor. This is a floor where checking the ‘content labels’ on the floor number panel becomes very useful; it indicates, for example, that there is an energy pellet flying around somewhere and the floor is made of water, so you’d better be careful. Apparently, many a tester ran headlong through the portals in this level to their doom by not checking where they were going. Aah, life lessons, portal-style.

"For instance, the floor here will kill you. Try to avoid it."

Floor 12 – Start Time: 10:31 PM

Commentary: ON

This floor is essentially an exercise in reminding the player of how to fling. It also introduces putting portals on angled surfaces to direct your flinging. Something else interesting about this floor is that in order to solve it, you have to go back a few steps after reaching a certain point in order to proceed. You can also solve this floor by placing one portal only once, and simply adjusting the location of the other one when necessary. (This level demonstrates the fact that portals cannot be placed on moving objects, and that portals placed on previously stationary targets disappear when the object begins to move.)

Floor 13 – Start Time: 12:00 AM

Commentary: ON

Took a long break to nab some noms. After the dinner of champions (Easy Mac, grape soda and Ben & Jerry’s) and some time monitoring eBay to unwind, I sat down to continue.

This is the floor that inspired a thousand crushed dreams. It was the inspiration for the challenge levels of Portal, which my neighbor insists you must complete in order to actually ‘beat’ Portal. In the in-game iteration, a lot of the game’s mechanics are included, with the exception of flinging and water floors. The challenge level for this room includes water floors, and I believe it removes a cube or some other silliness. Having played this floor before, the solution is quite obvious to me, but I can remember it being difficult on my first playthrough–I kept looking for a third cube, rather than going back to retrieve the first one. I had been trained through prior levels that I couldn’t easily go back, due to not having control of both portals.

This room’s commentary explains that the game’s programming checks to see if players have somehow managed to destroy or otherwise remove a cube from play, and then gives you another one via the Cube Delivery Chutes.

Floor 14 – Start Time: 12:14 AM

Commentary: ON

As the commentary reveals, this floor has a secret ‘ninja solution’, in which the player takes the idea used to solve the first element of the puzzle, and simply applies it to solving the end of the puzzle instead, bypassing about 3/4ths of the test. Rather than fixing the chamber to prevent this (as the did in the challenge level version), they let the ninja solution stand.

The commentary also points out how they designed the squares on the ‘black wall’ to direct the player’s attention upward, a classic problem in video games. They put as much lighting emphasis as humanly possible on the cube, by putting a skylight above it, the observation window across from it, and by aiming the player’s eye upward via both the ‘black wall’ blocking and by having the pellet receiver in the same room (which casts its own light up onto the ceiling, which gets players look up in the first place). The cube is also a much lighter color than the black wall around it, making it stand out in its environment.

LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU.

Floor 15 – Start Time: 12:32 AM

Commentary: ON

This is probably the first really hard level, because it is the first to incorporate all of the game mechanics introduced up until this point, while also introducing the Double Fling maneuver. Flinging, fizzler barriers, energy pellets, moving platforms and water floors all make an appearance here. I died at least twice on this level (with one additional death due to some weird glitch where I stopped moving while the platform kept going–I don’t even know). The game has reached the point where the designers stopped including visual hints and cues for every action you can take, and instead have begun to encourage the player to start carving their own paths. Immediately after introducing the double fling, they place you in a room where you must double fling to escape, without including the visual cues for double flinging. As they said in the commentary, this is very important for the end game.

The most frustrating part of this level is having to place a portal while falling, especially since the visual cue they give you (the checkerboard ‘landing pad’) is placed slightly off from where you actually land. If you place your second portal on the checkerboard section, then you will come out from the ceiling, hit the ground, and skid into the second portal on forward momentum; when you come out again, you will fall considerably short of your target, and you get to start over from the stairwell. The key is in the fact that you have to start placing portals where you want them to go, and just because the game suggests one solution doesn’t mean you can’t try to find your own.

Floor 16 – Start Time 12:54 AM

Commentary: ON

"The Enrichment Center once again reminds you that android hell is a real place where you will be sent at the first sign of defiance."

Ah, the turret level. The new mechanic introduced on this level is something that is actively trying to kill you, unlike the energy pellets and the water floors from before, where death was due to your own negligence.  The commentary describes how they wanted a turret different from the turrets in Half-Life (which are basically just machine guns on tripods). Once they had the design for the turret mapped out, they realized it was a sort of cute robot, and in the words of the commentary, ‘a robot isn’t truly cute unless it talks’, so the Portal Turrets have adorable voices and innocent, passive-aggressive lines.

This VG Cats comic pretty much sums it up.

The floor itself is very straightforward; no flinging, no energy pellets, no water floors, just a lot of turrets shooting at you. This level introduces the idea that you can use cubes as shields, though, which is about to become very, very useful. The floor tends to be rather dark, making the red laser eyes of the turrets stand out.

This is also the first floor where we see signs of the Rat Man, one of the previous test subjects. This is the first time we are able to get behind the walls of the Enrichment Center, and lets us see into the belly of the beast, as it were. The player gets to see rusty machinery and dirty, grimy walls, as well as the disturbing messages left by previous occupants.

The Rat Man Den

However, from here on out, the astute player will find that the Rat Man has left clues to future puzzles, which also become very handy.

The player can also find another radio in a room full of cubes. There’s also a coffee cup and a wrench. On one playthrough, I managed to break the coffee cup. Though it does lead one to wonder, what on earth was someone doing with a coffee cup and a radio in floor 16?

Floor 17 – Start Time: 2:04 AM

Commentary: ON

Okay, it took me a really long time to find that screenshot of Data coming out of the pool of plasma coolant, so that’s why it took me an hour to move from level 16 to level 17.

This is probably the most famous level of the game, the level featuring the Companion Cube. It is surprising, how popular the Cube became, considering it only makes one appearance throughout the entire game. I think what really made the Cube so popular, though, is how important the game made it. The only thing GLaDOS talks about through the entire floor is your Cube, and reiterating the fact that it cannot speak, and thus, will never threaten to stab you. It’s somewhat akin to the urban legend about SS officers being given a puppy to raise, then having to kill it, or like having to murder Aerith yourself.

lol spoiler alert

Floor17 really cements how amoral GLaDOS is. If you make it to the end, but just sit instead of actually going through with destroying your cube, she will continue to instruct you to destroy it, and no matter how long you wait, she congratulates you on destroying your cube in ‘record time’.

Floor 18 – Start Time: 2:45 AM

Commentary: ON

I keep getting distracted. I’ll probably leave off here for tonight, and write up my run of floor 19 and onward tomorrow morning.

Floor 18 is one large flinging puzzle, with a nice break in the action provided by a room full of turrets. The only room where I ever die on Floor 18 is in the turret room, and this playthrough is no exception. I died twice, and neither time was due to turrets. I think the primary purpose of this room is to build up anticipation for how difficult Floor 19 must be.

The majority of Floor 18 is made up of black walls with water floors, which makes the walls and floors where portals will stick stand out strongly. There is also a Rat Man Den in this floor, containing a radio (though it is turned off), and a commentary bubble from Ellen McLane, the voice of GLaDOS, talking about how the voice direction she received for the game was wonderful, and lamenting how rare it is that she gets a line that is supposed to be ‘explosively vehement’.

Level 19 – Start Time: 4:16 PM

Commentary ON

Got all the way to the turret room before I got super distracted by my weekly webshow at 4:30.

Level 19, Turret Room – Start Time: 5:56 PM

Commentary ON

Finished up at about 6:15, so I get to jabber now.

It’s been a long time since my first playthrough of this game, but I know I struggled for at least twice this long when I first played Level 19 and beyond. I also had lots of trouble with the final battle with GLaDOS; I kept placing the turret redirect portals on the wall at GLaDOS’s level. It wasn’t until watching a new player attempt it that I discovered an easier way involving placing the portal on the floor beneath GLaDOS.

The player gets the chance to go inside the observation rooms, as well as the chance to replay floor 11, which becomes much simpler when the player has both portals available to them. As the commentary remarked, it was a way of showing the player ‘running amok’ through the facility.

As I’m playing the Orange Box version, I didn’t get to see the updated ending that our associates playing on Steam got to see:

 

But that’s okay, because I have the internet. As such, I also got to look up the third-person version of the new ending–the one where Chell is shown as a gray box instead of a person. I also got drawn into a YouTube comment fight with idiots who were saying that if there was a robot there to escort you after you assumed the party escort submission position, then that means that GLaDOS really wasn’t trying to kill you, and there really was a party, and that Chell is a monster for killing GLaDOS (who was, y’know, flooding the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin for funsies). In the end, they were just trying to justify liking GLaDOS, despite the fact that she’s evil. I don’t have this problem. I like evil characters for being evil, not because I invented some twisted solution to my moral dilemma by making the bad guy good and the good guy bad (even though to most villains, that is how the story actually plays out–the villain is the hero of his own story, after all).

Whew, hopefully this will be enough ‘research’ to build my commentary on.

Excelsior.

Violence in Games and it’s (lack of) effect on players

I’m kicking myself for not saving the article, but every time I think of it, it makes me want to drop in out of the ceiling an Air Assassinate someone want to calmly sit down with uptight anti-video game nuts like Jack Thompson and put 6 rounds perfectly through his head with my full Dead Eye meter explain to him that video games don’t actually promote violence in children but the business-end of my Masamune does.

The popular argument is that viewing violent acts (like in movies or on TV) or worse, participating in “mass-murder simulators” (code-speak for video games, which suddenly makes Sesame Street: Cookie’s Counting Carnival sound like the next installment of Grand Theft Auto) leads to people emulating that behavior in real life.

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

These crusaders take up tragedies like Columbine and tout that if it weren’t for video games, it never would have happened. For years, the rumor has remained in circulation that the shooters at Columbine had created a replica of the school in Doom, and used it for ‘practice’. This is, of course, not true at all, but people always try to search for meaning in meaningless acts. Nobody wants to think that a kid who goes on a shooting rampage at school had less than a happy life, because nobody wants to think that kids lead unhappy lives. They want to find something to blame, something that could take what appeared to everyone to be a normal child, and turn them into a monster.

Many years ago, that prime target was fiction novels. After that, it was movies. After that, it was television. Now, it’s video games.

People fear the things that they don’t understand, and in many parents’ cases, the things they don’t understand are ‘everything the kids are doing these days’. My own grandmother barely understands Facebook and longs for the days of typewriters, so any technology from about 1989 onward scares her. Every time I take out my cell around her, she asks ‘What’s that now?!’ as if I’m going to stick it in her face and ask what the combination to the bank vault is. Every text I send, she wants to know what I’m saying, because if she doesn’t know, I could be texting the nuclear launch codes to my Jihadist accomplices right under her nose. And when I tell her that I only texted ‘Sure’ or ‘XDDDD’, she rolls her eyes and asks why I would bother texting that. I love my grandma, though, so I don’t have the heart to quip back ‘Why would you bother asking?’

When I visited her for Christmas, I dreaded her looking in my bag of prezzies from the mall, since I’d just picked up my copy of Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood. Granted, the cover is fairly innocuous, and though my grandma is ignorant to the ways of modern gaming, she’s not a moron; she knows what an assassin is.

The least violent image from Assassin's Creed ever. And it's only not violent as long as you don't know that Ezio is about to kill every other person on that cover

My grandma is exactly the sort of person who would think that video games cause violence, if anyone ever told her that they did. She believes those e-mail forwards about how you have to send it to 5 people or else you won’t get your check from Bill Gates and AOL for helping them gauge e-mail traffic. She thinks this because she doesn’t understand them. She is the sort of person who would accept violence in movies or on TV because ‘that’s passive entertainment’, whereas in video games, the player is ‘actively participating’.

And now we come to the point where I’m kicking myself. Countless articles have been written about violent video games, and one in particular that stands out in my memory regards a man who said that after playing Grand Theft Auto for just one hour, he found that his response to seeing a cop car had become ‘run away’. His analysis of his experience of ‘Play GTA -> get in car -> see cop -> want to run’ was that he was being subliminally programmed by the game to act the way he had played the game (which in his case, probably involved a lot of driving on the right side of the road, waiting at traffic lights, and wondering which button controlled the turn signals).

I thought his statement was ridiculous for a number of reasons. I’d argue that after smoking marijuana, robbing a bank, picking up a hooker or driving over the speed limit without a license for just one hour, your response to seeing a cop would become ‘run away’, too. I mean, even after going through a whole life’s worth of perfectly legal activity, I still find myself wary of cops, even though I’ve got numerous friends and acquaintances on the force. It’s like how people who are afraid of clowns aren’t afraid of clowns who aren’t in make-up.

 

Quick! Which one is more terrifying?

However, I found myself having a similar experience just this year. I’d been playing Red Dead Redemption for quite some time (read: it’s what I’d been doing for the last three and a half weeks prior), and part of what you have to do in that game is shoot basically anything that surprised you by moving. I realized I was hungry, so I set the controller down and headed for the pub. Not ten steps out from Jordan, I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. I went through the exact same set of responses I had when playing the game, the same sudden jolt of adrenaline. I then realized it was just a squirrel.

The next time I saw a squirrel on campus, however (probably within the same trip on the way to the pub), I didn’t have that reaction. I just continued onward like I normally do, and have not had that reaction to a squirrel since. However, it allowed me to understand what Forced Anonymous Article Writer meant when he said he felt like he was being influenced.

But I still think he was being stupid, even after having an almost identical experience. For one, there is a vast difference between playing a digital game and doing anything in real life that isn’t pressing a button over and over again. My reaction to the squirrel did not involve me going through the motions of reaching for my Winchester repeater for massive overkill. As someone who has actually fired a gun, I can assure you that ‘press L2 to target’ is nothing like ‘pick up the gun, look down the barrel and pull the trigger’. For one, the real world has no auto-target. Two, a real gun the size of John Marston’s Winchester would be heavy, loud as all hell and would kick like a mule, which are three descriptors I have never applied to an experience with a game controller. Three, my initial reaction was not actually ‘Kill whatever that thing is!’, it was ‘Quick! Something’s there!’. I think FAAW misjudged his reaction to seeing the cops after playing GTA. I don’t think his reaction was actually ‘Put your foot on the skinny pedal on the right and press that baby to the floor!’, it was probably the same ‘Quick! Something’s there!’ reaction I had.

Video games do condition you, in a sense, but not to carry out violence. They condition you to see things you wouldn’t normally be looking for. My reaction to notice small movements was fine-tuned by the time I was mauled by the third or fourth mountain lion in Red Dead Redemption, and I carried that sense over to the real world. His reaction to notice black-and-white cars with disco lights on top was probably fine-tuned after the very first time he obediently pulled over for the cops in GTA and was promptly dragged from the car and beaten Rodney King-style. Video games punish you for not seeing things, and once you leave the game world, you will continue to see the things the game asked you to see.

 

Although in the grand scheme of things, you probably won't see a Zombie Bear very often in real life.

For example, if I take someone into a classroom with the math problem 1+1=? on the board, and they answer 2, and I smack them and say the answer is 1+1=10, then proceed to teach them about binary, then they’ve learned a new system. I could keep them at binary problems for hours, until they’ve gotten as used to performing calculations in binary as they are used to using decimal. Then, once I let them out of the classroom, and they see a problem like ’10+10=?’, their initial reaction may be to say ’10+10=100′, because I’ve been asking them to see binary equations for so long. Once their brain catches up to itself, however, they’ll realize that in the real world, we use decimal, and they will answer ’20’, just as they should. However, if they answer ‘100’ and are told they’re wrong, I can almost guarantee that their reaction will not be to attempt a Hadouken.

I can understand why people might think that playing violent games causes violent behavior. After all, if someone is trained in using martial arts to defend themselves, they’re going to use martial arts the next time someone comes at them with a knife. Or if they have anger management problems, and their therapist suggests ‘venting’ (i.e. hitting a pillow, screaming, etc.), then the next time they actually ARE angry, they are much more likely to carry out the action associated with their venting (i.e. hitting something that is less of a pillow and more of a face). However, the actions associated with carrying out violence in a video game are completely different from the actions associated with carrying out violence in real life. Pressing a button is in no way similar to performing a kick, and reloading a gun is in no way similar to ‘shoot offscreen to reload’. In that sense, playing a video game is no more ‘actively participating’ in a violent act than a director working on filming an action sequence is ‘actively participating’.

 

For further viewing pleasure, I recommend the Penn & Teller’s Bullshit! episode on video game violence. However, it’s only fair to warn that Penn swears just as much as Teller doesn’t talk. So watching this video with the volume on full blast over Spring Break while you’re visiting Great Grandma’s house probably isn’t the best idea. My commentary on this video would be a whole other post’s worth of jibber jabber, so I’ll leave my final comment at ‘I agree’.

Oh man, that makes my thumbs hurt just looking at it…

And I mean that in the best way possible.

I love my PSP, I really do. And it looks well-loved, too; there’s all sorts of scratches on the screen and worn paint. I bought it to keep myself entertained on the road trip to my first year of college; I’d already been buying games for it, so it was in no way an impulse purchase predicated solely on the fact that I could get it bundled with Dissidia Final Fantasy.

Thing is, I also love having physical copies of my games. Though they might get scratched up, they’re easily replaceable. I can loan a game to a friend for a weekend if they want to see how much they like it before they commit to buying. I also really like the aspect of going to the store and browsing games, chatting with other people in the store, and shooting the breeze with the sales clerks while they deliberately make the checkout process go slow because omg there’s a girl in here and she’s talking to me about video games. I had that experience buying my PSP, and all of my PSP games so far. I had that with almost all of my games. I didn’t have that experience with Flow, and I didn’t have that experience when I downloaded all 3 PSX Final Fantasy titles. I instead had the joy of waiting for three very large game files to download over AC internet. All aboard the failboat, destination failure.

But yet again, I really enjoy the specs the PSP2 is coming out of the gate with. I’m especially pleased with the second joystick, and the fact that it’s not just the same hardware repackaged as a slide-out piece of junk with a smaller screen than its predecessor and with no way of transferring ownership of your previously purchased UMDs to your new device. (The PSPGo, obviously, wasn’t just a trip on the failboat, it was a trip on the Fail Shuttle to the International Space Fail to perform routine fail inspections and to deliver the next year’s supply of fail for the failnauts living there.)

I think the strong points of the PSP2 outweigh my disappointment that my collection of UMDs are ultimately as outdated and obsolete as they looked the first time I laid eyes on them. My biggest hope is that there will be some way of officially transferring ownership of UMD titles to DLC versions, or those slick little memory cards that they showed in the announcement panel. There was no system in place for transferring your game library from the PSP to the Go, which was yet another notch in its fail case. I can’t imagine what system would be feasible, though…only that I want a system, and I want it yesterday. After all, there are several PSP titles coming out this year that I plan on buying, and I don’t like buying the same game twice at full price.

Paidia/Ludus challenge

Paidia/Ludus

Dang, that came out small.

Flow – A digital game in which one plays as an abstract plankton-like creature, floating through the ocean. It’s similar to games like Snake and Pac-Man, in that the point is to eat and avoid being eaten, but there are no boundaries or mazes like in Pac-Man. As the player’s ‘plankton’ eats, it becomes longer, like in Snake, making it harder to be attacked by enemies. There are certain points at which the player can ‘dive’ deeper into the ocean, encountering more food, but also bigger predators. It is very much a casual game, with no scoring system, no real character death (being consumed by a bigger creature only penalizes you by putting you back a few levels, but your creature quickly regenerates and can continue without penalty) and no real conditions for victory; reaching the bottom of the ocean and eating the creature there initiates a new game with a new creature (this one more jellyfish-like). When the player reaches the bottom of the ocean again, they encounter their original creature, and upon eating that creature, a new game initiates with a new creature type, resulting in a constant loop of different fish varieties. The point of the game is that it adjusts to the player’s playing style, creating a dynamic difficulty adjustment (DDA); this game was the game maker’s master’s thesis on DDA in games.

Final Fantasy XII – A digital Role-Playing Game. While the game’s story is completely on rails (you are free to explore the world, but many forms of transport are unavailable to you, and many locations are closed off from entry until you go back to where you were supposed to go and play the next part of the story), the actual gameplay mechanics are based entirely around personal customization of characters. The gameplay system only allows you to control one character at a time, and so introduced a system of ‘Gambits‘, through which you could program the AI behavior of your party members, with the option of being allowed to switch over and manually control any character at any time. Manually entered behaviors always take precedence over Gambit-activated behaviors. With this system, it is possible to program an ally to ‘Attack the Nearest Enemy’, but ‘when an ally’s HP is less than or equal to 50%, use Cure’ or ‘If Enemy is flying, use magic’ or ‘Cast ‘Haste’ on the ally with the strongest weapon’ or ‘When enemy is inflicted with the status effect ‘Oil’, cast Fire magic’. The system includes ‘Gambit’ options for almost any contingency, and each character has up to 7 Gambit slots to program behaviors with. While the game allows the player to program the AI of their allies, it does not permit the player to break any rules, and only allows them to develop a set of rules for action in battle; it does not permit the player to order a character to stay in one place, nor does it permit the player to make the character perform actions that are not possible in the game (i.e. use an item that they do not have in their inventory anymore).

Katamari Damacy – A digital game in which one rolls a sticky ball (a Katamari) around the world, picking up items. At the beginning of the game, the Katamari is very small, and can only pick up items such as thumbtacks and paperclips. As the Katamari’s diameter increases in size, it can pick up larger objects. There is a time limit to each level, and a goal of a certain diameter that your Katamari must reach. There is nothing that the Katamari cannot eventually pick up, once it reaches a certain diameter. If the Katamari reaches sufficient size before time runs out, then any further expansion counts for bonus points.

Portal – A digital game in which the player places two-way portals on surfaces to facilitate travel. The player begins the game without access to any portals, having to rely on the game to generate portals for them in a series of puzzles meant to teach about the portals themselves before the player is given access. Then, they are only given access to one type of portal, with the computer placing the other type, leading the player to solve the puzzles with their half of the portals. Finally, they are given access to both varieties of portal, and are given harder puzzles to solve. The early stages of the game introduce game mechanics, such as the fact that there isn’t an ‘in portal’ and an ‘out portal’ (the colors do not indicate any special properties of the portals themselves), and that you can’t place portals on all surfaces (such as glass or specially indicated wall types).

D&D 3.5 – Massively based on rules. There are rules to dictate absolutely everything in the game world. Almost every possibility has a rule associated with it (there are entire rule books based around individual situations and how to negotiate them). Within those rules, however, is the potential to create some pretty ridiculous chains of events through rule manipulation (it is possible to expand the critical hit range on your weapon so that everything from a 15 up on the die is a critical hit, and if you use the weapon two-handed, then you get to add an additional modifier equal to half your character’s strength bonus, etc. Or, you could just be a Monk; 20th level monks are immune to all diseases, do not age, speak every language that exists, can fall from any height unharmed, can attack more times in one round than even a 20th level Fighter, have saving throw values of 12 for all 3 areas, can run faster than any other class, and are no longer counted as humans according to the game rules).

Tag – A children’s game of at least two players. One player is ‘It’, and continues to be ‘It’ until they tag another player, upon which they announce ‘Tag, you’re it’, and another round of play begins. Tag may involve a safe area (a ‘base’), or it may not. Related to the more elaborate game Hide and Seek, which gives the player who is ‘It’ a handicap by allowing the other players to hide, and requiring the player who is ‘It’ to find them and tag them. The Hide and Seek variant requires a base.

Konpira fune fune – A Japanese drinking game. Two players sit across from one another at a table, with a small box, overturned cup or other small object placed in the middle of the table. To the gradually increasing beat of music (played live and for the express purpose of playing Konpira), the two players take turns interacting with the item. The players may slap the top of the object, or take the object. If the object has been taken, then the second player must place their fist on the table instead of tapping the object. The object may be replaced or taken at any time, and the player’s partner must respond properly. Play continues until a player makes an error (slapping the empty table, placing their fist on top of the object, or losing the beat of the song), or until the end of the song. The losing player must drink. Popular at ‘ozashiki’ parties (parties with geisha entertainers; geisha often provide the music for the game as well).

Improv games – Most improv games have different rules, but the purpose of the rules are simply to provide a starting point for a scene; there is no requirement, for instance, that a scene that starts out as a ‘sit stand kneel’ game (one player must sit, another must stand, and another must kneel; should any character change position, the other two must as well, and all must settle into sitting, standing, and kneeling again) must remain a game of that type; the scene could be continued again at a later time outside of the original context (and is encouraged). Arguably, the only rule of Improvisation is ‘always say yes’, meaning ‘accept everything that is brought to the stage’, with all of the other rules and structures merely meant as starting points for independent scenes and characters.

Game that could go either way: D&D 3.5

Though there are a massive number of rulebooks for D&D 3.5 (my records indicate at least 45 rulebooks (not counting pre-written adventures, which often come with their own unique setting rules), and almost all of the 3.0 books can be used in 3.5 games, as well; the rules changes between them were minimal), the game is not necessarily dictated by the rules. The fact that the game is arbited by a Dungeon Master means that the rules apply only to the extent that the DM decides they apply. Rules can be applied in different ways (i.e. some DMs may apply magic as an attack, requiring the player to roll their magic casting rather than have the enemy roll against the spell, some DMs may use different dice to roll different elements, such as initiative, etc.) or ignored entirely (most DMs will only use, for instance, the Dungeon Master’s Guide 1 in their play, ignoring the other 44 books and their highly specialized rules), or will make up entirely new rules (penalties for time spent out of character, penalties for ‘metagaming’, story rewards, granting extra experience for landing the killing blow, etc.). The rulebooks for D&D are really more like guidelines to facilitate independant play. And since the story is in the hands of the players (at least with a good DM), there is no restriction on where they may go or what they may do. While the rules are useful for determining things such as order of combat, they are also free to be used flexibly or not at all. It is a rare player who keeps track of how many arrows are in his archer’s quiver, or how many spell components his wizard has before going into battle. Players’ free interaction with the DM leads to a reduction of the importance of rules. If you can convince the DM that your character should have Darkvision because he was raised by Drow, but not have the Drow penalty of being blinded by sunlight, then the DM is free to give you whatever they deem appropriate. The DM may ask that you forefeit something in return, but they may not if you manage to butter them up right. The rules only apply if the players and the DM remember to apply them.

Need…we need the Felicium…

Well, it’s been several days since I sent off my old PS3 hard drive and HDD Tray to a friend with an electric drill, and I’ve yet to get my tray back, so my PS3 has been sitting there giving me sad eyes for the past four days. Not hearing the unnecessarily loud external cooling fans at this hour is…almost unnerving. The room is too quiet. I filled the void for the past few days with amusing YouTube videos and the first season of Star Trek: The Next Generation. I just got to the ‘After School Special’ episode (0122 “Symbiosis“), where one race (henceforth the ‘Addictons’) has the Space Plague, and another race (henceforth the ‘Dealerons’) produces Space Cocaine (which has the added benefit of being the only known vaccine against Space Plague). The Addictons, thus, became addicted to Space Cocaine (I mean, the whole planet is addicted; they presumably inoculated their children at birth with Space-Plague-Vaccine-which-is-actually-Space-Cocaine, too), and was dependent on trade with the Dealerons, whose only industry was making Space Cocaine–every other material need they required was extracted from the Addictons through trade for their Space Cocaine. The fun part was the fact that the Addictons and the Dealerons were the same species who had grown apart, like the Vulcans and the Romulans. The other fun part is that they all had electricity powers–it was like Infamous gone horribly awry.

In the words of my roommate, 'Why is it that every single alien race on Star Trek is just humans with a Latex forehead?'

The episode got me thinking about the portrayal of drugs in media, specifically how movies and TV shows portray them vs. video games. Growing up, I remember seeing cigarette vending machines and Joe Camel billboards, just as much as I remember those ‘Tap the Rockieeeees, Coors Liiiiiight’ commercials. Then it seems like all of those ads disappeared right before the new millennium, thanks to really uptight special interest groups. Now, I completely understand and agree with the idea that advertising cigarettes and alcohol to children is a bad idea, and putting things like cigarette vending machines in places where any 13-year-old Rebel Without a Cause wannabes could buy them is also a pretty bad idea. To be honest, I’m surprised America never got in on the beer vending machine market–the anti-alcohol groups surely wanted a crack at the action the anti-tobacco groups got on that front.

Beer vending machine, Japan. I can't think of a product that you can't get out of a Japanese vending machine.

Nowadays, it seems that characters can’t smoke on TV or in movies unless they’re a villain, or unless the product placement money from Big Tobacco outweighs the cost of listening to a dozen anti-tobacco groups scream about the corruption of our youth. Strangely enough, heroes are still allowed to drink alcohol on TV, and no one raises much of a fuss.

With the exception of this Looney Toons segment, of course.

In movies, any drug use immediately warrants a PG-13 rating, but even so, some want to bump any movie depicting people smoking and NOT immediately dying from lung cancer an R rating. Yes, they want any movie depicting someone smoking (unless it’s a historical character who was known to smoke, like Sigmund Freud or, I don’t know, Bill Clinton) to show, during the course of the movie, “people suffering hideous consequences as a result of their folly”. Websites like SceneSmoking.org track the number of times tobacco is used on screen in every movie ever, assigning them ‘lung ratings’ based on the number of uses and the movie’s perceived stance on smoking, and makes wanna-be clever tag lines incorporating the movie’s titles and level of tobacco use, i.e. ‘Black Swan, Black Lungs’. Films like Pirates of the Caribbean portray characters such as Jack Sparrow as insatiable alcoholics, but SceneSmoking.org only takes umbridge with tobacco. The use of alcohol by Jack Sparrow falls into the PG-13 rating…

…but the presence of Jack Sparrow (and FFX’s Auron) did not bring Kingdom Hearts 2 from Rated ‘E’ to ‘T’. In fact, the games’ rise from ‘E’ to ‘E10+’ is only because the ‘E10+’ rating did not exist when Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories were originally released. And although ‘Use of Alcohol’ is explicitly stated on the back of the box for Kingdom Hearts 2, substance use is not considered enough to bring the game from E/E10+ to T. In fact, among all the games on my shelf, none have ‘Use of Drugs/Alcohol/Tobacco’ as the lone content descriptor on a game–all games featuring such usage or references always come with more pressing descriptors, such as Heavy Rain and Red Dead Redemption (both featuring identical lists of Blood, Intense Violence, Nudity, Strong Language, Strong Sexual Content, Use of Drugs; Rated M), White Knight Chronicles (Mild Language, Use of Alcohol, Violence; Rated T), and even Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII (Mild Language, Use of Tobacco, Violence; Rated T) and Okami (Blood and Gore, Crude Humor, Fantasy Violence, Suggestive Themes, Use of Alcohol and Tobacco; Rated T). Violence and Language are the factors in video games that raise rating levels, which can be deduced from the fact that no video games are rated ‘E’ with ‘Violence’ and ‘Language’, only to have almost identical games get moved up to ‘T’ for ‘Use of Alcohol/Tobacco’. This can be seen between Kingdom Hearts games released before March 2, 2005 (the implementation of the E10+ rating) and after that date. In fact, Re:Chain of Memories (released 2008 in USA), the PS2 remake of the GBA version of the game, bears an E10+ rating, while the original (released 2004 in USA) has the regular E rating, despite featuring the exact same content description: ‘Fantasy Violence’. Likewise, both Kingdom Hearts 2 and Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep feature E10+ ratings, though Birth By Sleep features no substance use.

I’m a big supporter of content rating systems, especially when an adequate explanation of content is given along with the rating, but given the number of busybodies who fuss over video games, I’m both surprised that substance use hasn’t been made a big hairy deal by such busybodies, and pleased that ESRB apparently doesn’t view it as a big hairy deal. It makes me proud of this industry that they have not allowed themselves to be pressured into thinking ‘Oh no! Auron makes a cameo appearance in Kingdom Hearts 2, and he drank alcohol in his original game! And–holy crap, how did we not notice this the first time around–Cid from FFVII is in these games. That’s the chain-smoking Cid, right? Editing the pack of cigarettes out of his character design isn’t enough. We’ve gotta add ‘Incidental Character Used Alcohol/Tobacco in a Related Title’ to the content description and bump these games up to Rated T, pronto.’

And yet I wonder–why does the ESRB not consider substance use in games to be as big a deal as the MPAA considers it to be in movies? Is it simply because movies reach a much wider audience, and media seen by more eyes supposedly needs tighter regulations? Is it because the ESRB considers depictions of the use of common, legal drugs like alcohol and tobacco to be fit for public consumption because they are legal substances? (I would imagine a video game based on Bad Boys 2, for instance, to garner a higher rating for being about distinctly illegal drugs.) Is it because the anti-tobacco busybodies have just focused so much on movies and TV, they haven’t had the time to come along and browbeat the video game industry yet? Is it because the anti-violence busybodies are already beating every brow available? The world may never know.

Video Games as Art: What It Means To Be Human in The World R:2

Today’s assigned reading was the infamous Roger Ebert blogs regarding video games as art. His statement, of course, was ‘video games can never be art’ (my emphasis), a statement that he later recanted–sort of. Ebert retracted his previous statement and replaced it with ‘Video games are not art now, and this generation of gamers will not see video games become art.’ Steven Spielberg once made a similar statement, saying “I will accept video games as a story-telling medium when someone can honestly say, ‘I cried at level 17”. Spielberg is currently in a partnership with EA games, and has made a few games with them, like a little series known as MEDAL OF HONOR. I guess if one is going to convince industry types of the value of video games, there’s no point in starting small. Other big-name movie industry types who dig games are giants like Peter Jackson (whose involvement with the Halo franchise led to him attempting to earn the rights to produce a Halo movie–we got District 9 instead, the proof that the rookie director he had chosen could, in fact, make a compelling sci-fi film), Mark Hamill (who spends most of his time now doing voice work for video games, including the recent Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep, starring opposite from Leonard Nimoy), and Guillermo Del Toro (who has defended video games as an art form, and who is deeply involved in the production of an upcoming horror game, InSane).

Though considering Guillermo's Hellboy fist over there, it's not surprising.

One of us. One of us.

Ebert’s retraction included the following remark: “I don’t know what they can learn about another human being that way, no matter how much they learn about Human Nature.” Many people responded to this remark with titles such as World of Warcraft, EVE Online, Everquest, and sundry other MMORPGs, all of which derive their experience from playing with other flesh-and-blood people. In response to Ebert’s remark, I would ask what one could learn about another human being from watching a movie that they couldn’t learn from playing a video game; with the exception of documentaries, movies aren’t about real flesh-and-blood people, and neither are video games. Both focus more on Human Nature than on individual humans, and any oblique remarks about learning about the director applies not only to video games, but to every single animated movie ever made (and anyone who argues that Toy Story 3 doesn’t communicate anything about people simply because it’s animated toys is clearly a Cyberman.)

Having not played many MMOs, I will have to supplement my lack of experience in that arena with another game: the .hack series. A series that simulates people playing an MMO in the near-future, .hack often presents players with the question of what it means to be human.

Example 1, Mia.

The original series (.hack//Outbreak through .hack//Quarantine) features the character Mia, a Blademaster (the average longsword-type fighter) who has an illegal character model; while all other characters in The World are human, Mia has hacked her character’s appearance and instead made herself a purple cat. She also has several other hacked abilities, such as the ability to see the main character’s hacked Twilight Bracelet, an item that was invisible to all other players in the world, including the System Administrators (whom Mia also seemed to be skilled at avoiding). She is best friends with a boy named Elk, who plays the game to try to build his self-confidence in real life, where he doesn’t have many friends and is a bit of a shut-in. These two characters don’t tend to associate with many other people, and have a very strong friendship. The only problem is that Mia is an NPC, a ‘Non-Player Character’. Unlike the usual NPCs in The World, however (usually shop-keepers and the like), Mia has a full-fledged AI program, and conducts herself as a human; she is not even aware that she is not a real person until near the end of her ‘life’. Her behavior is entirely human-like; there are even periods where she is inactive, and you are unable to invite her into your adventuring party, just like when human characters are logged out. In essence, Mia could be considered the first Loebner Prize Gold Medal winning program.

As the main story progresses, however, Mia’s program integrity begins to degrade, manifesting in odd behaviors and speech, rather like when a person’s mental state becomes abnormal. This ultimately culminates in Mia confronting the truth about herself: she isn’t real. Not only that, but she is a villain, a piece of malignant software created for the purpose of extending the lifespan of Morganna, an AI program who was designed to digitally oversee and program the Ultimate AI. Morganna, like so many antagonists in Japanese RPGs, is not a clear-cut evildoer like The Joker, or even a man who is clearly evil but has what appears to be good (or at least non-evil) intentions, like Magneto. Morganna’s aim is to live. Should her purpose of completing the Ultimate AI ever be fulfilled, then her program will terminate. However, as an advanced AI herself, she is aware of this fact, and does not want to die. Therefore, she deliberately stalls the completion of her project by attempting to disrupt The World. As the player attempts to stop Morganna’s interference, however, they destroy vital parts of her programming, which manifests as severe bugs and corrupt data in The World (as Morganna is the underlying code for the entire game world). Another important piece of lost data was her knowledge of her purpose, turning her into a psychopath who then attempts to do outright harm to people, and causing her to attempt to actually destroy her ‘daughter’, the Ultimate AI ‘Aura’. It’s as if the Blue Screen of Death one day caused a deadly neurotoxin to leak from your CPU because it didn’t like the fact that you were switching from Windows to Linux.

The only time Morganna makes a physical appearance in .hack. She is an unseen antagonist throughout the games.

In the sequel series, .hack//G.U., while AI data anomalies (known collectively as ‘AIDA’) play a major role, they do not manifest themselves as characters. Instead of an AI-controlled character, our views on what it means to be human are questioned by the character of Sakubo. Sakubo is a player character shared by a pair of twins. Depending on who is playing Sakubo at any given time, her personality and appearance changes. When the older twin, Saku, is in control, Sakubo has a very pushy and acerbic attitude (at one point, while her brother is playing, she outright steals the controller from him), and only cares about one other player in The World; the Arena Champion Endrance (a character played by the same person who played Elk seven years prior; thus, Endrance looks like an older version of Elk). When her ‘younger’ brother, Bo, is in control, Sakubo becomes very passive, soft-spoken, and unsure of him/herself, but is very affectionate toward everyone around him/her, and is eager to please.

Sakubo, showing both her Saku and Bo appearances. When the player switches, slight changes show in the character

Throughout the games, however, hints are subtly dropped that Sakubo is not what she appears to be. Eventually, it is revealed that Sakubo is, in fact, a character belonging to two people…in one body. Sakubo belongs to a young boy with a split personality, whose alter is modeled on his idea of what his twin sister would have been like, had she not been stillborn. The fact that the boy developed a second personality (and the fact that his ‘sister’ is so mean to him) hints that his home life is not a very loving one and, like many others in The World, he plays the game to escape real life. Eventually, Saku admits to the player that she is not real, that her brother ‘made her’ for protection, both from his neglectful parents and from the pressures of society. The player is then faced with a decision to make: to ‘kill’ Saku (against Bo’s will) by telling her that she should leave, or convince her to continue to exist in Bo’s mind. It’s clear that the main character doesn’t want her gone, if not just for Bo’s sake, for the fact that Saku had been with the cast for three games, as a completely separate entity from Bo. Saku is her own person in The World, just as Mia had her own body, voice and personality within The World.

And yet the fact remains that both Saku and Mia are simple facsimiles of people. Neither one is their own person outside of the game, and yet within the game, they are just as human as every other character. Science Fiction writer (and ‘pro-robotist’) Isaac Asimov loved to work with the idea of non-human humans, as evidenced by his cast of characters with positronic brains, all of whom distinctly show human-like (if sometimes child-like) tendencies. The Bicentennial Man is perhaps Asimov’s best illustration of a non-human human. Andrew is possessed of all of the faculties we normally associate with humans, such as creativity and emotions, and his strongest desire is to become human himself. This desire is so strong that he begins replacing his mechanical components with organic ones; he reverse engineers himself from fully robotic, to a cyborg, and ultimately to a fully human organic being.

Asimov’s works are almost certainly considered art, as they are some of the finest short stories in the Science Fiction genre. So much of what minds like Asimov, Clarke and Heinlein wrote became staples of the genre, it would be remiss to discount the importance of their works. How is it that a story which asks the same questions as Asimov’s art, and directly engages the player in considering this question of humanity outside of humans in the case of Mia, Morganna and Saku’s fates, not be art?

The question present in the .hack games regarding human nature doesn’t necessarily make the game more fun. In some cases, it can be downright depressing to learn about the human condition. Sakubo is played by an 11-year old boy with abusive parents, causing him to develop a split personality. Atoli is played by a depressed 16-year-old girl who started playing The World at the suggestion of a boy she met on a suicide website. Gaspard is a 13-year-old boy who is bullied because he is overweight and makes poor grades. Bordeaux is a 14-year-old girl who is angry about her parent’s divorce, and vents that anger by killing players in The World. Endrance is a 20-year-old hikikomori who stays in his room playing The World almost 24/7, and is incapable of functioning in real life. Kaede is a 28-year-old woman whose son died in a car crash that she caused, and she plays The World to interact with a player named Zelkova, who reminds her of her dead son. The game seems almost like a warning to treat everyone on the internet with respect and politeness, because you never know who is one message away from killing themselves, or who might turn into a real-life stalker and come after you.

What makes the game fun (aside from a battle system based around executing very cool-looking combos, a colorful cast, and a solid story about saving the internet) is that the characters are just that: characters, each one created by a real person. Some characters, like Alkaid and Gabi, have role-playing aspects to them (Alkaid is a tough-talking punk whose real-life counterpart is a quiet bookworm, and Gabi is childish and off-the-wall, though his player is an accomplished novelist and retired college professor), revealing to the player what the other players want to be. Other characters, like Silabus and Pi, are almost exact representations of themselves within The World (Silabus is a prominent member of a guild meant to help new players start in The World, and spends his real-life free time volunteering with social aid programs, while Pi is a System Administrator for the game, and sees playing the game as part of her job, and conducts herself accordingly. She makes no show of trying to hide her profession from other players, unlike several other characters played by CC Corp employees). It is up to the player to decide how much about each player they want to learn. It is entirely possible to play the game without ever initiating an e-mail chain with another player, and probably even possible to beat the game at 100% without doing so; interaction with other players through e-mail or other out-of-game media is entirely optional.

But the process of learning about the people behind the characters is fun. Exchanging e-mails with various players adds incredible depth to the characters, increasing the emotional investment players have in the game. For example, while I was playing .hack//G.U., an update popped up on my news feed. A 19-year-old college student had fallen to his death from his 3rd story apartment window while playing The World. I panicked; Silabus was a 19-year-old college student living in his own apartment. I immediately logged on and went to the party creation screen. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw that Silabus was alive, well, and logged in. I invited him into my party and adventured with him for a good half an hour, simply happy to see that he was alive. I can’t know if the news story was purposefully added to evoke that emotional response toward Silabus (as reading the news updates is entirely optional), or if my response was just due to me having an interest in learning about Silabus’s player (as e-mailing Silabus to learn about him in real-life is also entirely optional), but what I do know is that it made the game more fun.

Final Fantasy X and The Reformation

This is an idea that has been at the forefront of my ‘video games are more than mindless button mashing, Grandma’ argument. Final Fantasy X was the start of what I term as the ‘third generation’ of Final Fantasy fans, and like the generations before them, they hold up one game above all others as the greatest in the series, and have a fanatical devotion to that game. At a basic level, the game is very enjoyable. It has colorful characters, and a relatively short, accessible story (as far as Final Fantasy goes; most stories average 60+ hours, while the main story of FFX could be completed in under 40 hours) filled with drama, tension and romance.

Thus, Yoshitaka Amano's icons for FF went from 'Large' to 'Gargantuan', constituting a size increase of two categories; it's natural reach is now 15 feet.

A comparison can be easily drawn between the plot of Final Fantasy X and the Christian Reformation. For this to be easily seen, one must first understand, however, that Final Fantasy X is NOT the story of Tidus. Tidus is merely a biographer, a vehicle for us to witness Yuna’s story. The game is really about her, and I could probably write a whole other post about how more Final Fantasy games have stories driven by heroines rather than heroes (more than just VI and XIII, certainly!). Yuna is the main character of Final Fantasy X. All of the other party members are in her service, and she is the one who will defeat Sin; not Tidus, not Wakka, not Lulu or Auron or Rikku or Kimahri. Yuna is the only one who can.

I'm still wondering how her obi musubi is even *possible*.

Left, a hero. Right, THE hero.

Once the reader/player is convinced of Yuna’s place as main character of FFX, my statement starts to make more sense. Yuna starts out in the game as a Christ figure. She takes up her duties as a Summoner knowing that, if she does her job right, she will die doing it. (And if she does her job wrong, she’ll probably also die doing it–either way, Summoners die.) It is a testament to her strength of character that she can face every day smiling, and has such a drive to help people. When juxtaposed with the story of Jesus, the two seem very similar, even with their ‘walking on water’ tricks aside.

Every Summoner can perform this funeral rite, which here includes a 'walking on water' component.

Christian doctrine has held for over 1600 years that Jesus was God and Man, and that he went down to Earth specifically to be killed to save mankind from sin. Yuna was half Al-Bhed (a race considered by the Yevonites to be heretics, who live sinful lives by using forbidden machina), and her father was High Summoner, the last person to defeat Sin and bring peace to Spira. She inherited her father’s legacy, and though she has one green eye, evidence of her Al Bhed heritage (though it lacks the distinctive Al Bhed spiral pupil), nobody except for Rikku, her cousin, knows her to be half-Al Bhed; one could say she is ‘untainted’ by their sin. Yuna began on the path of the Summoner at a younger age than her father, and despite being young, she managed to succeed in her Pilgrimage. She ultimately defeated Sin, and she did so more completely and totally than any of the High Summoners before her. Not only that, but destroying Sin didn’t kill her, as it did every other High Summoner–Yuna is a ‘living savior’.

This is Sin in Final Fantasy X. Just confirming that 'Sin' is not an abstract concept in Spira, but an anti-matter-breathing Cloverfield monster. Carry on.

Yuna begins the game as a Christ-like figure, a future martyr for the Yevon religion, the daughter of one of it’s five greatest saints. As the story progresses, however, she uncovers great corruption within the church. Slowly, her character shifts from being a naive Christ figure to being a female Martin Luther. She recognizes that only Summoners can defeat Sin; this grain of truth has remained in the Yevonite teachings, but she learns of how the Church of Yevon adopted traditions from their competitors, the Summoners of Zanarkand, 1,000 years prior to the events of FFX. Traditions such as the Yevonite prayer symbol, the Hymn of the Fayth, and faith in Yevon are all doctrinal remnants from the people of Zanarkand. The survivors of the Zanarkand-Bevelle War adopted the practices of their enemies in hopes of appeasing Sin, the entity who ultimately ended the war by destroying everything it approached, erasing Zanarkand, and obliterating the Bevelle armies. Rather than recognizing the true origin of Yevonite teachings, however, Yevonite revision places Zanarkand as the holiest city of them all; the Church of Yevon successfully co-opted Zanarkand and transformed the dead nation from bitter enemy to holy ally through their teachings.

Sin can out-Godzilla Godzilla.

Left, Zanarkand, before Sin. Right, Zanarkand, after Sin.

Yuna also comes to discover the great levels of corruption and hypocrisy within the Church of Yevon. No less than half of the Maesters of Yevon (analogs of the Catholic Pope and College of Cardinals) are maintaining their positions while being dead, a state that automatically disqualifies them from the offices. Upon arriving in Bevelle on her Pilgrimage, Yuna also discovers that Bevelle makes extensive use of Machina, the chief sin among sins in the Yevonite doctrine. While in Bevelle, Yuna even finds herself put on trial for her heresy (essentially a trial for papacide against Maester Seymour Guado), and she is essentially excommunicated and sentenced to death for her crimes against Yevon. She goes on, however, to complete her Pilgrimage and defeat Sin (much like her father, who was stripped of his priesthood for marrying an Al Bhed, but later returned to the good graces of the Church by becoming High Summoner).

Yuna's trial

Martin Luther underwent a similar journey, though with admittedly less magic-casting and airship technology. Martin Luther started out as a monk, and was relatively content with the positions of the Church before he was sent to Rome. There, he discovered the incredible hypocrisy of the Pre-Reformation Catholic Church, such as the paying of indulgences, paying for entrance to pilgrimage sites, and brothels set aside for use by the clergy. Further corruption was quickly uncovered, leading to Martin Luther becoming disillusioned with the Church, and subsequently writing the 95 Theses. Martin Luther, however, at no point wanted to destroy or dismantle the Catholic Church, and he certainly didn’t want to form his own. He only wished to fix what was so broken in the existing Church. The formation of the Protestant sect of Christianity was necessary after Luther’s excommunication. However, even after Luther’s excommunication and the split between Catholic and Protestant Christianity, his reforms were realized; the Catholic Church reformed.

Ultimately, the Church of Yevon is unable to recover following the Eternal Calm, and dissolves, although the principles of the Yevonites remain with the rise of the New Yevon Party, a splinter group of the Church of Yevon which left behind the religious practices and ritual in favor of living according to the rules laid out by Yevon (rather like the Protestant Church’s belief in Grace by Faith and the abandonment of the practices and rituals of the Catholic Church).

Yuna’s transformation from a Christ-like figure to a Martin Luther-like reformer, and the parallels to past real-world events indicate the depth of story available in most RPG games, notably among the Final Fantasy titles.

Though The Catholic Encyclopedia has very thorough (and, on the whole, factual) articles on Martin Luther and the Reformation, the tone is incredibly biased, having been written for a Catholic audience.

You must be the pride of [SUBJECT HOMETOWN HERE].

Well, here we go. I’m not one who has ever had a need or desire to blog. Interesting things don’t happen to me. Well, perhaps that’s not true, but nothing that ever happened to me was interesting enough (to me) to warrant the entire universe hearing it.

With the advent of blogs, the information age exploded. We exponentially generate information through the internet. The amount of information out there increases 66% each year. Mostly because of blogs, I think. When ten thousand people comment on what’s going on in Egypt, even if they aren’t saying anything original (i.e. reposts on Tumblr, Digg, Twitter), they still generate the information stating:

I exist, and I have an opinion.

I suppose I can see the appeal in blogging, but I’d rather create something stating ‘I exist, and I painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel’, or ‘I exist, and I composed some of the most beautiful music in the world while deaf’. Maybe that’s why I never blogged before. I’m not Michelangelo or Beethoven. But something tells me neither of them would have blogged, either, so I suppose I’m still in good company.

 

This blog will not be about my daily life. It won’t be about the ‘lol excellent nap’ I took after class, nor will it be about the ‘omg best episode of Glee EVER’ that I watched later that evening. I’ve already got a Facebook for such meaningless sound-bites. This blog will be about something much closer to my heart. This blog will be about video games.

I’m not a game reviewer in the most obvious sense. In a way, I think all players are game reviewers–we all evaluate the games we play, and pass on our opinions of them when prompted. The only difference between us and professional reviewers is that they get to play the games a month before we do, and they get paid to do it. (Lucky bastards.) I will instead be discussing video games and their place in society. I will be talking about how games relate to the past, how games relate to the present, and how the average gamer is more of a philosopher than the average non-gamer realizes.

However, for the sake of accuracy, I must exclude about 80% of Wii adopters from the ‘average gamer’ category. Sorry, but I don’t think Wii Fit can actually be considered part of the philosophic tradition of yoga.

This blog might seem fragmentary at times, and garrulous at others. (Such a great word, and I never get the chance to use it in a sentence.) It may be spot on accurate at times, and wildly and unequivocally, almost impossibly off at others, because the blog is the art of expressing opinions. And while opinions cannot be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, they can be ‘accurate’ reflections of reality and ‘WTF what is wrong with you?!’ reflections of reality.

I just hope that most of my opinions come to be regarded as the former rather than the latter.