Starting to write this post feels somewhat like checking into rehab. For I have spent most of the evening, you see, in a semi-catatonic state staring into space listening to trippy music and watching the pretty lights. It’s an addiction I thought I had freed myself of, but then they come along and make it so much better.
I am, of course, referring to today’s release of Geometry Wars 2 on the Xbox Live Arcade. And by golly it’s a corker. Not only have they added the one thing that I thought they could have added to the original (having your friends’ high scores on screen as you play, rather than a meaningless “high score for this session” that was reset every time you quit) they’ve added a buttload of new modes to the game, each retaining the series’ signature simple gameplay but adding a twist. We have a time limited mode, a mode where you’re only allowed to shoot in “safe zones”, a mode where you’re not allowed to shoot at all… plenty of variation, but things never get more complicated than the dual-stick “move and fire” mechanic that has been around since Robotron.
And it’s addictive. Oh so very addictive. Particularly if your friends are playing it too, as each time you pick a game mode you see your Friends Leaderboard. And if one of your buddies has quietly slipped in ahead of you… well, that just needs sorting out. Immediately. However long it takes.
So I thank you, Bizarre Creations, for providing me with a means of getting even less done than I normally do.
I’m not normally one for this kind of bollocks, but this one tickled me somewhat. Not in the bollocks. It did, however, make me wonder just how many of today’s bands actually are taking the “random name” approach when it comes to 1. their own name and 2. their album titles. Particularly pretentious emo whiners.
Anyway. I came across this on PMOG, which I mentioned a couple of entries ago. There’s a whole thread on their forums about this which is quite entertaining if you’re into that kind of thing.
Here’s the deal: First go to this link, which generates a random Wikipedia article. The article name is your band name.
Next, go to this link, which generates some random quotes. The last four words of the last quote on the page is your album title. Repeat this step if you want to generate some track titles.
Finally, go to this link, which is Flickr’s “Explore the last 7 days” link. The third photo on the page is your album cover.
I remember Soul Calibur on the Dreamcast like it was yesterday. The first truly then-next-gen game that my friends and I played, it represented an absolutely amazing graphical extravaganza, not to mention an exciting evolution of the fighting genre into “proper” 3D.
“It actually looks real,” is always the battle cry of some of my gamer friends upon the latest and greatest graphical revolution, and with Soul Calibur’s amazingly lifelike animation (I was, for example, convinced that I could actually see the muscles tensing in the characters’ joints) it seemed like we were a step closer to that.
Then there were the many long nights spent with other friends drinking wine, eating cheese and playing far too much of the game – to the extent that my buddy Ben managed to complete the game in 18 seconds with Astaroth. Excited by this amazing victory, he sent a frantic text message to me – “18 seconds with Astaroth. Suck my cock and worship.”
Unfortunately, this text message never arrived. To this day, we’re unsure who it actually ended up with, but it certainly wasn’t me.
So now Soul Calibur IV is on the way, and it’s looking interesting, particularly with the character creation options. Character creation is a sure-fire path to brilliance if done well, and the trailer linked to below shows that there’s going to be some huge potential for fun, particularly when you combine it with the online play.
All I want when it comes to character creation is, frankly, either the City of Heroes character creation tool, or the WWF Smackdown 2 (PS1) character editor with next-gen graphics (and gameplay that’s actually GOOD). Why Smackdown 2? Well, because it’s the only game to this date to successfully allow us to create exact replicas of ourselves. And I mean EXACT.
Anyway. Here’s some Soul Calibur IV action to damp your uglies.
I came across this the other day when browsing through friends’ Twitter profiles. As if Twitter didn’t waste enough time with publicly announcing that you were taking a dump (a tweet that, mercificully, neither I nor anyone else that I “follow” has felt the need to share… as yet) I happened to come across something called PMOG on the page of one Jennatar.
PMOG stands for Passively Multiplayer Online Game and I guess it’s one of those Web 2.0 thingies that you always hear people rabbiting on about. I was intrigued by the title, to be honest, so I decided to check it out.
PMOG takes the form of a Firefox extension that you install and it does all kinds of interesting things while you’re just going about your normal daily life on the Web. Firstly, you gain Datapoints for browsing websites. Secondly, players sometimes leave items on webpages including Crates, which can contain Datapoints, Mines, which cause players to lose Datapoints (and which cause Firefox to wobble around like it’s having a spaz attack), Portals, which link to another website with only a little hint about what it might be (though there are NSFW tags on ones which… well… aren’t) and some other bits and pieces.
The great thing is, these things only pop up if you’re running the PMOG toolbar, so you can make it leave you alone whenever you like. But then you’ll miss out on the mysterious portal which has appeared on your Facebook page, linking you to a video of, I don’t know, some dancing kittens or something.
It’s an interesting idea and it’s already made me check out a number of sites I’d heard of but never got around to investigating in any great detail.
Crap. As if I need another excuse to waste time on the Web.
Many people who have been playing video games and mis-spending their youth (and beyond) as much as I have will have one game that really sticks in their mind from the “good old days”, that they like to return to as much as possible and are gratified to discover that it’s actually still good.
Some retro games hold up better than others. Some age gracefully despite limited technology. Others remind us just how far we have come since those early days of one-man programming teams. Others are so well-respected that they spawn modern-day remakes or sequel after sequel… or endless variations on Xbox Live Arcade.
My particular fond memory is for an early EA title for the Atari 8-bit range of computers named M.U.L.E. This game involved four colonists from a diverse range of species attempting to make the best use of the resources a small planet named Proc Irata had to offer… yes, that planet’s name is indeed “Atari Corp” backwards (and this wouldn’t be the last time Atari Corp would have their name used as an element in a game, with Red Rat’s Laser Hawk following a few years later pitting a lone chopper against the forces of the “evil Proc Irata”. One wonders if Atari had any say in all this.) and, as these things tend to go, to make as much money as possible by the end of a period of time that was set according to the “difficulty” level. I use the term “difficulty” loosely as, unusually, the difficulty setting in M.U.L.E., rather than simply making the computer players harsher and cheaper, it actually added new layers of complexity to the game.
M.U.L.E. was played on a month-by-month basis, with each month being a game turn split into several phases. First up was the Land Grant, where a cursor moved over the single-screen landscape of the planet one plot at a time, and players competed simultaneously to be the first to press their fire button to claim a plot. Different plots were good for different things – mountains were good for mining, the river valley running down the middle of the map was good for food production and everywhere else was good for energy production. This stage, despite its simplicity, was teeth-gnashingly frustrating in the way a good board game is when someone pips you to nabbing, say, the sheep port in Catan.
Next up, players took it in turns to actually manage their plots and assign them to particular purposes. This was done on a strict time limit, so players had to make decisions quickly. In order to assign a plot, players had to outfit one of the titular M.U.L.Es for energy, mining or food production before taking them out onto the map and dropping them into a plot, taking care to place them carefully, otherwise the M.U.L.E. would simply escape. In this phase, if players had time, and if they were playing on one of the higher difficulty levels, they could also attend a land auction for an additional plot of land, scan an area for its suitability for mining the more precious minerals and finish their turn by wandering into the pub to receive a “gambling bonus” according to how much time they had left.
Next up was production, which was sometimes preceded by a random event affecting production of one or more of the resources. This could be anything from sunspots increasing energy production to a pirate raid stealing stock from the colony’s store. This random element added some tension to the game and also meant that someone who looked like a runaway victor could have their big plans scuppered at short notice, which was always immensely satisfying.
Finally came the auctions, where players were able to sell their surplus stock either to other players or the store. Auctions were handled in an interesting manner, with players setting buying and selling prices by walking up and down the screen. If two players met, they would exchange goods and money until one or the other moved away. If no players wanted to buy or sell, goods could also be bought or sold from the colony’s stores (for very high or low prices respectively). After the auctions, the four players were ranked according to their net work before the whole process repeated again another five to twenty-three times.
So that’s how M.U.L.E. works, and its simple yet elegant mechanics, along with its good sense of humour throughout, make it a game that’s still fun to play today. Interestingly, though, none of these things are the reason why I remember M.U.L.E. so fondly, because I was much too young to understand how to play it properly when I was first introduced to it.
Rather, two things stick in my mind. Firstly, there was the music.
I defy you to not be humming this masterpiece of the POKEY chip all day. Evoking an appropriately adventurous sci-fi feel (in my mind, at least), M.U.L.E.’s theme is one of my favourite video game themes of all time.
Secondly, there was the “characterisation” of the game. In The Squadron of Shame‘s podcast, we’ve often discussed the merits of having a truly immersive game world. And M.U.L.E’s, while simple, worked brilliantly. Each alien race was distinctive and had its own character, despite only having about three or four frames of animation at most. The fact that this strange little world had its own curious rules, such as catching the little white dot (the “Wumpus”) on the map rewarding you with extra money, made it all the more appealing to be a part of – and made you feel a little sad when the ship came to pick you up on the last turn.
M.U.L.E.’s a game I remember fondly for all the wrong reasons – yet fortuitously, it still plays very well today. I highly recommend exploring its curious charms – ideally, with three other people.
(With apologies to Carl Honore for shamelessly liberating the title of his book, which I haven’t read, but respect the sentiment behind the title.)
I sauntered to work today. Tomorrow I might amble, stroll, perambulate or, you know, walk. This is nothing unusual, you might think, but I’ve noticed a curious phenomenon develop over the last few years, and that is the fact that everyone seems to have somewhere more important than the place I’m going to get to, preferably much quicker than I do. As such, as I wander down the street, it’s almost inevitable, even at unsociable hours in the morning, that at least one person will come charging past me – not running, because that would look panicky – but walking at at least twice the speed I do. I don’t walk as slowly as, say, an elderly gentleman, but I still walk considerably slower than these people who are inevitably dressed in some sort of suit, wearing clip-cloppy shoes that immediately makes them somehow seem incredibly arrogant. Quite how shoes can be arrogant is anyone’s guess, but that’s what it makes me think.
Then there’s London. Anyone who’s ever visited London, however much you may have liked it, will have noticed how much of a hurry every damn person in that city is in. Traffic lights go amber and horns sound immediately like some sort of automatic reaction. Dare to stand slightly left-of-centre on the escalators leading down to the Underground and some greased-up City-boy businessman will make a snide comment like “Slow lane’s over there, mate”. Stand in a queue at Pret and you’ll see at least five people who have been waiting roughly fifteen seconds storm out in seeming disgust, muttering about inefficiency. (Contrast this with my experience a few years back when an entire symphony orchestra descended on one tiny kebab shop in the middle of Warsaw which was staffed by one rather uncomfortable looking man. Now that was inefficiency, although to be fair he was somewhat up against the wall. Almost literally.)
Then there’s the laziness of people who use computers. “Why can’t I drag that text into my subject header?” I heard one person ask of an email application – because using two keyboard shortcuts to copy and paste it was obviously just such a hassle. “Why can’t it do this?” “Why doesn’t this do my work for me?” “Computers are supposed to be efficient!”
And then – then – there’s the attention span of people on the Internet. Dare to write in more than one paragraph on a message board and there will be at least one response along the lines of “OMFG WALL OF TEXT” with nothing more meaningful to say. Well, thanks for that.
You’d think there’d be a point to this wall of text. And I guess there is. It’s to say to these people “slow the fuck down”. Leave ten minutes earlier so you can enjoy a walk to work without barging past people. Take your time over writing your emails and they might actually be spelled and punctuated correctly. Read someone’s wall of text and you might actually find something interesting that they had to say. And London? Just climb out of your own arse and realise that some people don’t want to live their lives at 300 miles per hour before dying of a heart attack at 28.
This post is dedicated to the people who take the time to sit down, chill out, relax, enjoy some time, some space and don’t mind being a little bit wordy and pretentious along the way. If you’re reading this and you’ve got this far, chances are you’re one of them. And to you I say, “Good job. Keep it up.”
Hello. Welcome to yet another attempt at a blog. This time I’m not relying on crappy, shit-arsed web hosts who don’t reply to my emails when I politely (and subsequently, less politely) enquire exactly why they have absconded with £30 of my hard-earned for another year’s hosting and domain name ownership. But enough about 4sites.com (who, incidentally, used to be fantastic, and just appeared to vanish off the face of the planet recently) – let’s not start this as a rant, as there will undoubtedly be plenty of time for that later.
If you’ve stumbled across this blog by accident, here’s the obligatory “hello, this is me, as if you care” post. That way you can decide whether or not you feel like sticking around. So let’s lurch right in.
My name’s Pete Davison. I am not the 1981-1984 incarnation of The Doctor, hence the title of this blog. In fact, I was born in 1981, giving my parents great joy in telling the story of my brother (games industry veteran John Davison, as press releases are wont to call him) apparently insisting that my parents gave me the middle names “Doctor Who”.
It didn’t happen.
I did, however, end up with two middle names, which has meant for the longest time I have been unable to enter all of my initials into arcade machines upon achieving a high score. I suppose as names go, things could be worse. I could be called Theophilus McShitface or something like that. Now that really would be unfortunate, although at least “TMS” fits on the Pac-Man high scores list.
Anyway, who am I? I’m a self-confessed geek. I love my gadgets, I love my video games and I love my board games. I also like hot girls in lingerie, but I think that’s something less of a niche market. I live in the UK and represent one of the last bastions of traditional Britishness, doing one hell of a Brian Blessed impression (with a beard to match if I haven’t shaved for a while) and constantly shaking my head at the rancid, disgusting, despicable state that this country is in.
I’m also in the process of attempting to emigrate, for reasons which are probably abundantly clear from that previous paragraph.
But back to the geekery. One of the main things I do is take part in legendary (well, in our minds, at least) gaming “book club” The Squadron of Shame over at 1up.com. We have a podcast and everything – see the sidebar for links to subscribe. The Squadron of Shame are a group dedicated to rescuing underappreciated classic video games from the bargain bins and playing the shit out of them before deciding whether or not they actually do belong in said bargain bin or in pride of place on discerning gamers’ shelves.
I also occasionally write for industry veteran John Davison’s new site, What They Play, a comprehensive resource for parents wanting to find out more about their kids’ favourite hobby. If you’re a parent, know nothing about video games and want to know if the latest Final Metal Gears of Halo game actually does have all the graphic depictions of interracial anal sex that the Daily Mail “reported” (and I use the term loosely) featured in it, What They Play is a great place to start.
So sit back, relax, maybe drop a comment or two (but be sure to comment responsibly otherwise the government gonna getcha) and enjoy.
If this is the only post on the page when you read this, you have reached the end of the potential enjoyment of this page. Please feel free to come back and visit later.