#oneaday Day 771: The Trouble With Kotaku Might Not Be Quite What You Think

Yesterday, Internet Rage focused the full power of it’s +5 Cannon of Ranting at Kotaku, and not for the first time. On this particular occasion, the problem was this article, by all accounts a rather obnoxious piece by comedian Kris Kail describing the fact that he supposedly managed to get laid several times in a room filled with Sonic the Hedgehog memorabilia.

The article drew heat for several reasons. Firstly, it was simply quite bad taste. Secondly, it was rather obnoxiously self-congratulatory, and a thinly-veiled attempt for Kail to sell more copies of his book Slacker’s Paradise. Thirdly, and this is the thing that Kotaku has most commonly taken flak for in the last few years, it was really only tangentially related to video games.

Editor-in-chief Stephen Totilo took to Twitter shortly after it became very clear that reaction to the article’s publication was almost universally negative. His response, though, was somewhat curious, as it seemed like he was apologising for something different to what everyone was upset about.

“The only person who has to apologize for stories on Kotaku is me,” he tweeted. “It was my call to run the Sonic story. I had expected it to come off as funnier. That was an error of judgment. But, more significantly, I owe our readers an apology for okaying a story that implies all gamers are straight men. I should’ve caught that. It’s no small thing. No article on Kotaku should make you feel that you don’t count as a gamer. If one does, that is my fault and inconsistent with Kotaku values. I must also add that humor and writing about sex isn’t off-limits at Kotaku. We just have to do it right and not forget our own standards.”

While it’s good that Totilo responded so quickly to criticism, certainly on my Twitter feed the fact that the article was supposedly assuming an all-straight male readership wasn’t really the issue — rather, it was the poor taste and seemingly rather pointless nature of the article on a site which is supposedly about video games.

But that got me to thinking. What is Kotaku really trying to do?

Then a theory hit me. It became obvious what Kotaku seemingly wants to do, despite its half-hearted attempts to be “inclusive” to everyone. It wants to be a “men’s magazine” a la FHM, Maxim et al, but one that focuses on games. Were the site to be branded as such and have the confidence in its content to say “yes, we are specifically aiming at a straight male demographic” then articles like the above actually wouldn’t be all that out of place. Those who didn’t fit into that core demographic might not enjoy that sort of content, sure — but if the site was obvious enough about its intentions, it wouldn’t provoke nearly as much ire.

There’s precedent for this sort of thing, too. A good few years back now, there was a short-lived magazine from PC Zone and Maxim UK publisher Dennis known as Escape. It focused on video games, Internet culture and the Web’s formative years alongside the usual scantily-clad ladies found in more “general interest” men’s mags like its stablemate Maxim. It’s a real shame it’s not around any more. There’s actually arguably a place for a publication like that on newsstands today.

Because you know what? It was pretty good. It brought together Things That Men Like under one convenient header. Games. The Web. Girls. Sports. “Alternative” culture. It took a few risks with its content, too; most memorable for me was the occasion when they quasi-scientifically attempted to test the theory that video games were better than sex by wiring up my brother to a heart monitor and then making him have sex, wank, talk to a stranger, play a video game and bungee jump. Surely a high point in his career. (Bungee jumping “won”, by the way.)

I can’t help but feel that the “blog/news aggregator” format for gaming sites has had its day, and that the way forward is for outlets to specialise both in their content and their core demographic. Video game culture is all-encompassing nowadays, covering men, women, kids, adults, straight, gay, trans, nerd, enthusiast, casual, PC, console, any combination of identifying characteristics you might name. As awesome as that is for the cultural penetration and acceptance of gaming as a mainstream medium, it does mean that you start to get to a stage where you can’t please everyone. So why not focus on a specific demographic? If you’re up-front and honest about being, say, a “men’s” site and focusing on content as such, those people who have no interest in straight male-focused content can move on to any of the bajillion other sites out there (it’s not as if we have a shortage, after all) while those who enjoy that sort of thing can stick around without feeling “guilt”.

Some sites are already wise to this. We have GayGamer.net specifically choosing to cater its audience towards (I quote) “boys who like boys who like joysticks and girls who like girls who like rumble pads”. We have Gamers With Jobs specifically catering towards the older gamer who doesn’t necessarily have the time to play everything but enjoys some mature discussion. We have Girl Gamer, specifically aimed at female players. And doubtless there are numerous others catering specifically to other markets, too.

So why doesn’t Kotaku bite the bullet and make a bold shift in editorial direction, specifically stating that it is going to court the straight gamer market above all else?

The answer is sadly probably the most simple one. Hits. By attempting to be “universally appealing” (and, as we’ve seen, often failing) Kotaku aims to get the largest possible audience of people who are just interested in “video games” as a general, amorphous concept. More hits means more advertising revenue means the site can continue to grow and be a household name in gamer culture. At the same time, controversies such as that which occurred yesterday over this article attract people to the site, in much the same way as the Daily Mail posts deliberately contentious headlines in order to direct outraged traffic their way. Any publicity is good publicity, as they say.

It’s a cynical view, perhaps, but it’s also not an unreasonable assumption to make given Kotaku’s recent history. Consider, however, something that Arthur Gies of Vox Games said on Twitter last night:

You know what brings people to content? Good writing. You know what else brings people to content? Outrage. Which would you rather support?

There is a place and a demographic for content such as the Sonic the Hedgehog piece we saw yesterday. But that place is not on a site which purports to be universally appealing to all gamers.

The solution to this is one of rebranding and targeting that specific audience without guilt or apology — but sadly, I can’t help but feel it’s a bit too late for Kotaku now.

#oneaday Day 770: February Blues

It’s a long-held tradition in my family that the month of February is the best time to get really depressed and despondent about nothing in particular. I say “tradition”. It just seems to sort of happen sometimes, and as someone who struggles with depression at the best of times, I’m certainly not exempt from the February Blues.

I thought this year that I’d got away with it. It is, after all, almost the end of February and here I am having been feeling reasonably positive about things recently. I’m working, I’m enjoying it, I’m living in a place I like with a person I love and generally, things are pretty hunky-dory, whatever that means.

The last couple of days have seen a marked downturn in my mood, however. I’m not sure if it’s the weather, the fact it’s still getting dark quite early, the fact I’m tired, the fact I’m not sure if I’m ill or just have a bit more flatulence than usual — basically, though, something’s got my goat and is jiggling it around furiously, refusing to let go. (Note: “goat” in this instance is not being used to refer to my penis. The grabbing of that, refusing to let go and jiggling around is normally quite pleasurable, but that’s a topic best saved for another blog altogether.)

This is the frustrating thing about depression, particularly seasonally-affected depression, which is what I assume the “February Blues” are all about. There isn’t always a reason for it. Sometimes you just wake up of a morning, consider getting out of bed and realise that no, there’s not really anything exciting out there and it’s actually quite warm under the duvet and wouldn’t it be nice if you just closed your eyes again for a couple of minutes and relaxed and shit it’s midday and so on.

The above-described is also laziness, lethargy or whatever you want to call it, but it can be brought on by an irrational black mood. Sometimes the world is just inherently unsatisfying, leaving you wondering if there’s something better you could be doing, some greater purpose to your life.

Inevitably, the answer to those questions is “no”, so after a while you settle back into a nice comfortable routine of doing what you do and finding the whole thing perfectly satisfactory.

Sometimes asking those questions spurs you on to do other things, though. It’s from feeling bleak and wanting a convenient outlet that I started posting these daily blog entries after all, and now I feel they’re a big part of “me”. It’s just habit now, but when I casually mention to someone that I’ve written a blog post of varying quality every day for the last 770 days, they usually seem quite impressed. Most of them, too, are kind enough not to mention that if I hadn’t been wasting my time writing nonsense like this every day, I could have probably churned out a ton of novels by now. (I know this. Shush.)

Similarly, it’s from feelings of bleakness and blackness that I have started on exercise journeys several times — though at the times of the bleakest blackness it’s sometimes difficult to motivate oneself to proceed. (This is where a structured, scheduled programme like Couch to 5K comes into its own, as you then have feelings of guilt to contend with if you miss a session. Guilt is a powerful motivational factor, particularly if it doesn’t hurt anyone but yourself.)

Will these feelings spur me on to do anything this time around? I don’t know. I have a few irons that are not-quite-in-the-fire-but-at-least-somewhere-near-the-fire right now that I might give a poke from tomorrow. As previously mentioned, I’m running through Couch to 5K again. I’m still blogging. And I’m making sure to take the time to talk to friends both online and off.

February’s nearly over. And when it departs, may the colour come back to the lives of any of those of you who have been afflicted with a surfeit of blue.

#oneaday Day 769: Tricks of the Dead

I finished Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective on iOS last night. I never played the DS original, so when I heard it was coming to iOS, I snapped it up without hesitation, played through the free chapters and immediately handed Capcom and Apple the £6.99 it took to unlock the rest of the game.

Ghost Trick, for those who are unfamiliar, is a puzzle/adventure game from the team at Capcom previously responsible for the Ace Attorney series, one of my favourite story-based franchises of all time. Rather than being heavy on the “visual novel” style gameplay a la Ace Attorney, in Ghost Trick you take a much more active role in proceedings.

To reveal too much would spoil some of the game’s excellent twisting, turning plot, but suffice to say this: You are a ghost. You wake up next to a corpse in a junkyard on the edge of town. Understandably, you assume that the corpse is yours, but you have no memory of who you were or what you were doing in a junkyard. You also have no memory of who the panicked-looking redhead in the short skirt and kinky boots is. Thus begins a lengthy adventure as you struggle to unravel the mystery of your own identity while piecing together the events of the night which led up to your death.

The gameplay primarily revolves around the use of the titular Ghost Tricks, which are where you possess an object and then manipulate it in some way. You’re limited in your power, however, so you can only manipulate small objects (such as opening cupboards, rocking baskets, making candles flare up, that sort of thing) and in order to possess things, you can only move a short distance at a time, hopping from object to object. Thus part of the challenge becomes determining how you can make use of the environment to get to where you need to be.

There are two basic types of puzzle in the game — sedate puzzles where it’s clear you need to make something happen when you can but there’s no time pressure to do so; and puzzles where you have a strict time limit as you strive to use the objects in the environment to save someone’s life. The latter tend to involve not only working out which objects to manipulate and how, but also timing your moves carefully to ensure things happen when they are supposed to. Failure isn’t disastrous, however, as one of your ghostly powers is, conveniently, the ability to rewind time to four minutes before a person’s death and try again — often with the ghost of the dead person in tow to offer advice or sarcastic comments along the way.

The game mechanics are relatively simple but the sheer variety of creative puzzles which they are used to create make up a considerable proportion of Ghost Trick‘s charm. The remainder of said charm comes from a truly loveable cast of characters, second only to Ace Attorney‘s motley crew in their appeal. The cast is small and introduced gradually over the course of the game’s narrative, which means you get to know them all very well. They all have their own skeletons in the closet, however, and this allows for the biggest strength in the game’s plot: surprise.

There are tons of surprises over the course of the whole story. The game uses its supernatural angle well to allow for uncanny things to happen, but never strays too far into the realm of total absurdity. Towards the end of the game, the sheer number of narrative threads and time-bending nature of the plot may seem a little convoluted, but sitting down and thinking about things for a moment makes it clear that it’s a game which has been thoroughly planned and, within the laws of the game world set out by the story, makes sense.

£6.99 may seem somewhat expensive for an iOS game, but it’s time people stopped thinking like that. £6.99 is a perfectly reasonable asking price for the amount of enjoyment you’ll get out of this game, and considerably less than it cost upon its original Nintendo DS release.

So stop hesitating and just go download it now. It works on iPhone and iPad and even uses iCloud to let you transfer your save from one device to another. Grab a copy, sit down, relax and enjoy one of the best adventure games in recent years.

#oneaday Day 768: Two Weeks

Two weeks of my second runthrough of the Couch to 5K running programme, that is, and it’s going reasonably well so far.

Much as I discovered last time, building up stamina is actually a somewhat easier process than you might expect. I’m not sure if this is just because I’ve been doing semi-regular exercise for a while, a hangover from the last time I ran through this programme or something else entirely, but in the space of two weeks I’ve found that each time out there gets slightly, marginally easier than the last.

Of course, at this point in the programme I’m still only running for a minute and a half at a time, then walking for two minutes, then repeating the process. But still, every great journey starts with a single step and all that.

Running has, for me, always been one of the most challenging exercises there is to do, partly because there’s nothing “helping you”. Even when you’re running downhill, your body still has to do stuff, whereas on a bike all you have to do on a downhill stretch is stay upright and occasionally steer. But when you’re running, you’re constantly active — moving your body, lifting your entire body weight off the ground, shifting your legs, pushing forwards, pumping your arms, working all those muscles. It’s a pretty intense workout all round, so it’s perhaps not surprising that it’s pretty challenging.

As I found the last time I tried all this, though, it’s infinitely more interesting than running/cycling/rowing/whatever it is you’re doing on a crosstrainer on the spot, staring at a digital readout, trying desperately to ignore the terrible, terrible music the gym is pumping into your ears and also trying desperately not to look at the visible panty line of the woman with the nice arse in the yoga pants on the machine in front of you.

Sorry, momentarily distracted there.

But no. It is infinitely more interesting than working out in a gym simply because you have freedom, and that’s important. Okay, it becomes harder to control your workout so precisely when you have to deal with the sometimes unpredictable undulations of the route you decide to take, and at times you find yourself dodging pedestrians, dogs, low-flying seagulls and various animals’ poo. But that makes it interesting and exciting, even if you’re running the same route every day. You can mix things up by running at different times — that loop round the estate and past Sainsbury’s looks quite different when the sun has set to how it looks in the daytime. You can go the other way. You can take a random turning elsewhere and deliberately get lost in order to explore the area. You can run down darkened country lanes with a torch in the dead of night and pretend you’re Alan Wake. You can run down mysterious forest paths in the hope you might find some magical kingdom or The Faraway Tree inside (hint: you probably won’t, and all that is likely waiting for you at the other end is a large, muddy field that smells a bit like shit). In short, you can have a bit of fun with your exercising rather than enduring the businesslike approach of the gym.

That’s not saying the gym’s bad, of course — it’s good to have a sense of structure and “formality” to your workouts at times. But it’s also helpful to get out there and enjoy yourself with it, otherwise it simply becomes a chore, and chores are no fun whatsoever, and then they don’t get done and they build up and you feel guilty and obliged to do them all at once and then you swear never to let them get to that stage ever again and then you do and you swear lots and then you die.

Or something. Perhaps not.

This is my experience, anyway. I still go to the gym and I still enjoy doing so, but getting out there and running through my thrice-weekly Couch to 5K sessions has reminded me that going outside and Doing Stuff can be fun too. I recommend you try it.

#oneaday Day 767: Probably Not the Last Post I Will Write About The Last Story

The Last Story came out today in Europe. For the uninitiated, this is one of the “big three” Japanese role playing games that many are hailing as the Wii’s last great hurrah before it goes off and has a well-earned break ahead of its younger brother’s arrival. Said “big three” includes the already-released Xenoblade Chronicles, which is out in North America next month and which I have already discussed extensively elsewhere on this blog; The Last Story, which I will educate you on today; and Pandora’s Tower which I confess to not knowing a great deal about at this time. The three games have little to do with one another save for the fact that they’re published by Nintendo in Japan and Europe, though in North America it’s a somewhat more complex situation.

It’s hard not to see The Last Story as director Hironobu Sakaguchi and composer Nobuo Uematsu making a gentle jab at the Final Fantasy series which they both cut their teeth on, and which has now passed into the hands of a completely new team. Even the name means the same thing — Final Fantasy, The Last Story, do you see what they did there?

Far from being a throwback to these industry veterans’ glory days, however, The Last Story manages to take the JRPG genre and, like Xenoblade Chronicles, give it a mighty kick up the rectum. It does this by taking almost everything you thought you knew about JRPG conventions and throwing it all out of the window.

The most obvious difference from “traditional” JRPGs is the combat system. While old-school JRPGs favour abstract turn-based systems, The Last Story‘s combat is somewhat closer to an action game. With elements of real-time strategy. And stealth games. And third-person shooter.

While that may sound like something of a mess, in practice it works very well. Here’s how.

You take control of the game’s protagonist Zael. Despite having a variety of weird and wonderful characters in your party and being able to equip them as you please, you’re always in direct control of Zael. He can run around the battlefield, take cover behind objects, attack enemies, leap out from cover to do powerful “Slash” attacks, fire his crossbow, look around for structural weak points and order magic users to bring them tumbling down, release the power in allies’ “magic circles” for various special effects and even — a little later, anyway — give direct orders to his allies.

Rather than thrusting the player into random combats a la Final Fantasy or having enemies scattered around the field a la Xenoblade Chronicles, The Last Story favours scripted battles which occur at predefined moments. This means that enemies have formations and arrangements which the player must study from the top-down view which pops up before each battle. Allies may offer suggestions on appropriate strategies in which to proceed, which may then be followed or ignored at will, as the party AI will react to how aggressive the player’s approach to combat is.

The trouble with prescripted combat scenarios, however, is that it leaves little scope for level grinding or powering up characters, meaning that if a difficult situation presents itself later in the game, there’s no means of beefing yourself up to make it easier. Or is there? Well, yes there is. The Last Story gets around this issue with occasional “Summoning Circles” at which it’s possible to call up a group of enemies appropriate to the area the party is in and then kick the shit out of them. It’s a slightly odd system, but it does at least get around the problem outlined above while avoiding frustrating random battles.

Outside of combat, there’s plenty of interest, too. Like BioWare’s divisive Dragon Age II, the game appears to largely be set in and around a large city rather than being a globetrotting adventure. Sure, you get to go off and visit other locations throughout the course of the story, but the city of Lazulis is very much a “hub” from which everything else extends, similar to how Kirkwall is in Dragon Age II.

Or, I should say, how Kirkwall should have been in Dragon Age II. Something just didn’t feel quite “right” about the whole world we saw in Dragon Age II. Perhaps it was the copypaste areas. Perhaps it was the fact that all the residents of the city seemed to be perpetually standing around doing nothing. Perhaps it was the fact that you spent more time staring at the minimap than the 3D view itself. But Kirkwall didn’t feel very “alive”.

Lazulis, on the other hand, feels very alive. While the number of NPCs you can interact with directly is somewhat limited, there is plenty of “background colour” going about its business. Women scold children, guards patrol, merchants hawk their wares. And rather than being a passive observer, Zael slinks past people, squeezes down alleyways, shoves past people who are in his way when running, bangs his head on low-hanging signs and goes “ouch” and even has the option of tipping up fruit baskets and then watching in amusement as passersby slip over.

There’s a ton to do in Lazulis even when not following the main plot, too. There’s an arena in which to fight, plenty of sidequests to pursue and numerous hidden objects to collect. Rather than being a meaningless collection quest, however, said hidden objects provide the means of acquiring new items, upgrading weapons and gaining access to additional dyes for clothing.

Because last of all, The Last Story provides an impressive amount of character customization, particularly by JRPG standards. It’s possible to dye each part of a character’s outfit, remove certain parts of it to create the look you want and even to make certain parts invisible altogether. Couple that with the equipment upgrade system, which causes armour to change its physical appearance according to how much it’s been worked on, and you have a band of heroes which the player feels they can truly take ownership of.

I’m about six hours into the game so far and having a blast. The gameplay is solid, the battle system is less bewildering and daunting than descriptions may make it appear, the cast is endearing (thanks in part to the use of English voice actors, much like Xenoblade), the graphics are lovely (not just “lovely for the Wii”, but just plain “lovely”) and the story is interesting. While you can clearly see it’s a JRPG from the ludicrous haircuts that some of the characters are sporting, there’s plenty of positive influence from Western titles here too — customization, choice and a good degree of freedom. I’m getting an inexplicable Baldur’s Gate vibe from some of it — perhaps it’s just the city-based medieval-ish political story.

I’ll be looking forward to seeing what the game has to offer. In the meantime, if you’re considering trading in that Wii that’s been gathering dust for months — don’t. At least not until you’ve played this and Xenoblade Chronicles. And, if the quality of these two titles is anything to go by, the upcoming Pandora’s Tower.

#oneaday Day 766: Light Musical Entertainment Involving Tigers, Tents and Poo

I can vividly recall the first few times I heard the Bonzo Dog (Doo-Dah) Band. I was introduced to it by a combination of my partner in crime on teacher training and a good friend from my university days, and the sheer bizarreness of the music I heard has stuck with me ever since.

It’s not that it’s bad music. Quite the opposite, in fact, in many cases — many of the pieces by the Bonzo Dog Band are, in fact, very memorable and catchy, which is where part of their enduring appeal stems from. It’s just that I’d never heard anyone sing a song about having a shit, or extolling the virtues of spending time in a tent, or a song which featured a trouser press solo.

I thought I’d share a few of their greatest hits with you tonight, in the form of YouTube videos so everyone can enjoy them.

First up, Tent. I have always found this song inexplicably hilarious. I think it’s simply because he sounds so passionate about his tent. Also, there is a break partway through where people just shout “Tent! Tent!” as well as the most hideously inappropriate saxophone solo I think I’ve ever heard. In a brilliant way. PARP.

The Strain is a song about having a poo. No two ways about it. There’s no double entendre here, no attempt to hide the fact that yes, this is a song about having a particularly difficult poo. Why difficult? Well, listen to the “chorus”, which simply consists of screams of agony and coughing over the top of some entertainingly funky guitar and sax backing. And the backing to the second part which makes use of the saxophone to sound like one of those squeaky farts that it’s a bit of an effort to push out for fear of the fact you might shit yourself.

Jazz Delicious Hot, Disgusting Cold is the perfect piece with which to mock anyone who enjoys the chaotic sound of trad jazz. A self-referential piece parodying the band’s trad jazz roots, the track features some of the most spectacular deliberate terrible playing ever, including a clarinet solo that is truly magnificent in its ineptitude.

Trouser Press makes a mockery of the various songs in the late 60s and early 70s that took the form of “Do The [insert random noun here]”. It is the only piece of commercially-available music that I am aware of that features a solo on a genuine trouser press fitted with a pickup.

And finally for now, this performance of Hunting Tigers Out In Indiah [sic] was seen on the pre-Monty Python TV show Do Not Adjust Your Set. The song itself is actually a cover of a 1920s/30s piece by Hal Swain And His Band. The original version was non-ironically super-British, whereas the Bonzos version played this angle up to an absurd degree.

I hope these few pieces of ludicrous musical entertainment have brightened your day somewhat.

#oneaday Day 765: Social Overload

It may be simply my “over 30s” grumpiness starting to show, but I’m starting to find “brands'” use of social media to be immensely irritating. And even more irritating is the fact that their techniques seem to work — which, of course, perpetuates the whole hideous cycle until someone snaps and goes on a mad katana rampage.

I’m talking primarily about that faux cheerfulness that pretty much every brand page out there shows when addressing its audience. “Hey [insert collective noun here that is tangentially related to being a fan of the product in question]! [exclamation mark is important to show enthusiasm] We thought it’d be a great idea to [adopt some out of date Internet meme/take goofy photos of our office/make a cringeworthy video] so we did! And here’s the proof! [insert link to photo/video/blog post]”.

Getting your audience to engage with you is one thing. Getting them to engage with you on a meaningful level is an altogether different thing. I genuinely once saw the The Sims 3 Facebook page ask the community what their favourite colour was. Nearly a thousand people replied. I “Unliked” them shortly after that.

As I’m writing this, I’m trying to pin down exactly what it is that riles me so about this sort of thing. After all, the very fact that nearly a thousand people wanted to tell the faceless Sims 3 page that their favourite colour was, in fact, blue shows that it’s a system that seems to work. But does it have any value whatsoever? Does feeling like a brand is someone you can “talk to” help you feel any more fondness towards the product in question, or is it simply a novelty and a means of building community?

It depends on how you handle it, of course. If a question posed by a brand page is the start of a larger discussion which representatives of the brand then participate in, then it’s a good thing, in my opinion. However, for the most part in my experience, these sort of posts tend to just be “post something that lots of people won’t be able to resist replying to or Liking, light the blue touch paper and stand back”. After the initial question is posted, the brand steps back and doesn’t participate in the discussion any further, leaving the community to fight each other over whether or not the man who said pink was his favourite colour is gay or not.

The side-effect of all this relentless posturing by brands is that it leads to a feeling of saturation. By way of example, I’ve been so bombarded with teaser videos, images, exhortations to “celebrate FemShep Friday” and numerous other pieces of detritus that I’ve, ironically, lost any enthusiasm I may have had for Mass Effect 3 and probably won’t be buying it.

“Ignore it,” you may say. “Unlike it. Unfollow it.”

Believe me, I have. But sometimes you need to venture on to those pages to find out useful pieces of information — like, say, release dates — and end up having to mine your way through pages and pages of completely, utterly worthless nonsense in order to find anything relevant. That, surely, isn’t how it’s supposed to work. Or perhaps it is, and that’s why I don’t work as a “social media guru” or whatever.

On the flipside to all this, companies seem to be a lot better at using Twitter in a manner which doesn’t infuriate me. The very way in which Twitter works — you don’t see replies from people/brands you are following that are directed to people you aren’t following yourself — means that a lot of this unnecessary noise is filtered out. And the fact that tweets are, by their very nature, somewhat transient means that there’s no means for a 1,000-post comment thread discussion on favourite colours to take place. This is a Good Thing.

The best brands on Twitter do one of two things: post relevant information at a steady pace for you to check out at your leisure (see: feeds from websites or companies that have regularly-updating news) or use Twitter for one of its primary functions — as a means of communication.

In the former case, what you essentially get is a bit like an RSS feed relating to the product or company you’re interested in. In the latter case, you get some of the most helpful customer support I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience.

Take the poor souls over on the XboxSupport Twitter account, for example. These absolute saints have to deal with bombardments of questions every day, and somehow they still manage to remain polite, professional and — most importantly — get straight to the point. Ask them a question and they’ll do their best to answer you in a single tweet, and often very quickly, too. What you don’t get from them is vapid crowd-baiting questions or upselling suggestions to check out/buy additional products.

A lot of other companies have cottoned on to this in the last couple of years. I was particularly impressed with Orange’s support Twitter account, which helpfully resolved an issue I had tried (and failed) on several occasions to sort out over the phone. Xbox Support, too, have been great, and I’m sure there’s plenty of other examples out there.

I suppose there’s a lesson in all this somewhere. I should probably resist that inviting-looking Like button at the top of Facebook pages I can see are filled with vapid nonsense, and stick to only following things that actually provide useful information. Otherwise all that ends up happening is you feel completely burned out by the multisensory marketing bombardment you experience on a daily basis — and you end up hating things that you formerly liked. (Sorry, Mass Effect. It’s not you, it’s me.)

#oneaday Day 764: Sports Day

Sports and me have never really got on. There are a variety of reasons for this but the long and the short of it is that said antipathy towards each other meant that 1) I was usually picked last for the teams in PE (when I wasn’t, it was usually Steven Finnegan instead) and 2) my body isn’t exactly a rippling temple of man-beef.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to get involved with sports over the years. I was in my Cub Scout football team, for example, a team so terrible we were sponsored by a junkyard. Our best result ever was 1-0 to us. Our worst result was 20-0 to them. No, that’s not a typo. Twenty-nil.

Despite my ambivalence towards sport, I do also have some fond memories of various school sports days, particularly if it happened to be a nice day out at the time. I can’t remember a lot about primary school sports days, but secondary school sports days tended to be a pretty big deal, bringing most of the school to a standstill for a wide variety of track and field events.

My tutor group (the erstwhile 7FMQ, later 8QU, 9QU, 10QU and 11QU) were the very souls of apathy for the most part. There were certain events that people just plain didn’t want to enter, which would have put us at a significant disadvantage on the leaderboards (yes, this was in the day when it was still acceptable for school sports days to have “winners” and “losers”) had I not stepped in.

I’m not sure why I stepped in, given that I knew full well I was crap at sports, was not very good at running and wasn’t particularly agile. Therefore, you may be thinking, it would be somewhat foolhardy for me to enter both the 800m race and the high jump, but enter them I did, and I learned a number of things. Firstly, that I was surprisingly quite good at high jump, and secondly, that I was very poor at pacing myself when running — something which I still struggle somewhat with today.

The problem stemmed from the fact that I had never even considered running a long(ish)-distance race before, so I didn’t really know how they worked. As such, I was off the starting blocks like a fucking rocket and exhausted by the end of the first lap. This gave the rest of the pack, who had been pacing themselves somewhat more modestly, ample opportunity to catch up. I don’t think I finished last, to my credit, but it certainly wasn’t very far off. After the race ended, I went back to my tutor group’s area of the field, lay on the floor and didn’t move for a very long time.

The thing that sticks in my memory about that race, though, is not the fact that I ballsed it up so spectacularly. It’s the fact that for once, the rest of my tutor group was rooting for me. I spent a lot of my school days feeling like something of an outsider thanks to my awkward social skills, my weird accent, my crap hair and my forehead and nose’s tendencies to flare up with greasy zits. I was a geek and someone who did well, too, which made me pretty much the polar opposite of “cool”. Thankfully, barring a few exceptions, I was mostly left to my own devices to hang out with my equally geeky friends (most of whom had better hair than me) but this meant I didn’t feel a particularly strong sense of camaraderie with the rest of my tutor group.

Until that day. I heard them cheering for me as I ran past them on the first lap, and staggered past them on the second. And when I finished, far from being admonished for my poor pacing, I was congratulated and praised for getting out there and giving it a shot. It was a surprisingly special moment that’s stuck with me over the years. And while in short order things went back to being the way they had always been, for those few short minutes when I was on that track, I meant something. I was cool.

#oneaday Day 763: A Question That No-One Seems To Have Asked Regarding RPGs

Here’s a stumper for all you RPG fans: exactly how much does taking one hit point of damage hurt?

It’s not a particularly straightforward thing to work out, given that hit points are a representative abstraction of physical condition rather than a measurable, uh, measurement. But let’s assume for a moment that it is indeed possible to measure one’s own hit points. How much, then, would taking one hit point of damage hurt?

The answer to that question would largely depend on what model of hit points you are using. If you’re talking Dungeons and Dragons hit points, taking one damage would fucking hurt if you’re not in tip-top physical condition. The average “man in the street” sort of person (i.e. not a warrior, rogue, wizard, cleric or what have you) is regarded as a “level 0 human” and generally has something in the region of 2 or 3 hit points, if that. Level 1 wizards often only have in the region of 4 or so. As such, taking one hit point of damage as an average person following the Dungeons and Dragons model would hurt a great deal, putting you potentially up to halfway towards death (or rather, being knocked out, since people don’t officially die until bleeding out to -10 hit points in D&D).

Compare and contrast with the JRPG approach to hit points, however, where totals frequently extend into the thousands and, in some cases, the tens of thousands. As a beginning character in a JRPG, you’ll often have a low three-figure hit point total to start with, which will progress towards that elusive 9999 (or 99999) as you level up. Assuming that your average person hasn’t really levelled up a great deal thanks to a notable lack of monsters (big spiders battled with Hoovers notwithstanding) we can work on the assumption that a single hit point’s worth of damage doesn’t really hurt a great deal. ‘Tis but a scratch and all that.

So, since it’s late and my brain is starting to shut down a little bit, let’s take this to the next logical extension and consider a variety of horrific injuries to determine exactly how many HP damage they’d do following the two approaches outlined above. We’re assuming that the person being injured here is not a Destiny-chosen hero who has been infused by the power of the Goddess/branded by the fal’Cie/chosen by Fate/revealed to be the wielder of the legendary blade Monado but rather, say, that man who works behind the fish counter in Sainsbury’s. As such, we’ll say he has 4HP in D&D and 150HP in a JRPG.

Getting an electric shock off an escalator handrail — D&D: 0HP, interrupt current action in surprise; JRPG: 1HP electric damage.
Falling out of bed while asleep — D&D: 0HP, lose “Sleep” condition; JRPG: 1HP physical damage, lose “Sleep” condition, afflict with “Embarrassment” (special moves charge slower)
Walking into a coffee table — D&D: 0 HP, maybe stun for a turn, staggering randomly around the room going “OUCH”; JRPG: 1HP physical damage.
Paper cut — D&D: 0 HP, afflict with “very mild bleeding” status, lose 1HP every 500 turns unless the cut heals (use a bandage or roll a D20 every turn, on a number between 3 and 20, it heals naturally); JRPG: 2HP physical damage.
Accidentally grating your fingers while attempting to grate cheese — D&D: 0HP, afflict with “very mild bleeding status” as with “paper cut” above; JRPG: 1HP physical damage.
Stubbing your toe — D&D: 0HP, incapacitate for a turn, remove ability to use vocal components of spells and stealth due to yelling “FAAAAAAAHHHHK!”; JRPG: 3HP physical damage.
Having a cat that is standing on you decide that it needs to hold on tightly with its claws — D&D: 0HP, 50% possibility of affliction with “very mild bleeding” status as with “paper cut” above, movement forbidden (you’ve got a cat on you); JRPG: 3HP physical damage, afflict with Rooted (you’ve got a cat on you).
Inadvertently ripping off a toenail by catching it on something — D&D: 0HP, afflict with “bleeding” status, lose 1HP every 50 turns unless the cut heals (use a bandage or roll a D20 every turn, on a number between 8 and 20, it heals naturally); JRPG: 10HP physical damage, afflict with Slow.
Burning your hand on the handle of a poorly-insulated saucepan — D&D: 0HP, interrupt current action, forced shouting of obscenity breaks any Stealth-related effects; JRPG: 10HP Fire damage.
Standing on an upturned three-prong plug — D&D: 0HP, movement forbidden for 5 turns, remove ability to use vocal components of spells and stealth due to yelling “FUCK. Cunt! ARSE! SHIT that fucking hurts. AAAAARGH.”; JRPG: 15HP physical damage, afflict with Rooted.
Banging your head on a low ceiling even after seeing a “mind your head” sign — D&D: 0HP, dazed for one turn. temporary reduction to Wisdom and Intelligence; JRPG:10HP physical damage, 10MP magic damage for a blow to the head.
Getting punched in the face by some drunk dude at a bar who thought you were eyeing up his missus but in fact you were trying to read the scrawled sign on the front of that fridge that said that the cheap drinks might actually be a bit out of date — D&D: 1HP; JRPG: 25HP physical damage.
Suffering any sort of trauma to the testicular area — D&D: 2HP (probably won’t kill you unless you’ve just been punched twice by a drunk dude at a bar who thought you were eyeing up his missus, but it bloody hurts), stunned for 5 turns, temporary reduction to Constitution; JRPG: 50HP physical damage, afflicted with “Stop” status as you wheeze and cough in an attempt to recover your dignity.
Getting stabbed in the leg, whether accidentally or deliberately — D&D: 2HP, movement rate halved; JRPG: 50HP physical damage, afflicted with “Slow”.
Failing to escape the unwanted affections of an amorous gorilla — D&D: Your adventure is over. You have been adopted by an amorous gorilla as its mate. Any attempt to escape will result in death. JRPG: Perform a badly-executed stealth/platforming sequence to escape.
Getting stabbed in the face — D&D: 5HP (you will likely bleed to an unhappy -10HP death), permanent reduction to Charisma; JRPG: 100-150HP physical damage.
Suffering an apparently successful attempt to behead you — D&D: 14HP; JRPG: 150HP
Getting the smackdown from an angry God/being hit with a planet by the final boss — D&D: 50HP; JRPG: 5000HP
Standing quite close to the epicentre of a nuclear explosion, you know, enough to get a good view and think “ooh, that’s a bit hot, I wish I’d stood back a bit more” — D&D: 998HP; JRPG: 9998HP.
Standing in the epicentre of a nuclear explosion — D&D: 999HP; JRPG: 9999HP.

Should you find yourself suffering any of these injuries, though, fear not; for a good night’s sleep cures all ills, as everyone knows. Unless you’re already dead, in which case you’d better get on good terms with your local Cleric or purchase some Phoenix Down.

#oneaday Day 762: So, Should You Play Final Fantasy XIII-2?

I’ve been playing Final Fantasy XIII-2 for most of today and am almost at the end. I have reached the final boss, in fact, though haven’t beaten it as yet.

You are doubtless wondering whether or not it is worth playing this game, as you may have heard mixed reviews from around the Internet. I therefore present a list of bullet points which you may wish to take into consideration when deciding whether or not you actually want to pick up a copy and try it for yourself. I am going to present each point as neutrally as possible, as some people may react strongly one way or the other to each factor, and those reactions may not coincide with my own feelings!

I’m assuming at least passing familiarity with Final Fantasy XIII here.

The main story can be completed in approximately 25-30 hours, making it significantly shorter than a lot of other RPGs in this generation.
Following completion of the main story, there is a veritable shitload of stuff to do. Progress in the game is measured through your collection of 160 fragments. At my current point (final boss) I have 62. There is plenty more I can go back and do after the credits have rolled.
The main story is somewhat confusing, and all the more so thanks to its non-linear structure. The antagonist’s motivations are not made entirely clear until the very end of the game.
You play the same two characters all the way through the game. Neither of them have particularly “personal” stories to follow, though there is an underdeveloped narrative thread regarding Noel’s memories.
There is a squeaky-voiced companion character present throughout the entire game. It is a Moogle, true in every way to past incarnations in the series, right down to ending almost every sentence with “kupo”.
Final Fantasy XIII‘s characters all put in at least one guest appearance throughout the course of the game, but only one plays a major role in the story.
When you meet Hope, he is older than he was in Final Fantasy XIII and seems to have got over his “issues”.
The time travel mechanic is more of a location menu. There aren’t any particularly clever time manipulation puzzles throughout the course of the game, though there are a few sections where you revisit the same areas in different eras.
There are puzzles in certain areas. These take the form of “anomalies” in which you have to complete one of three different types of puzzle — finding a route over a board of tiles which disappear when you step on them while collecting crystals; joining like-coloured crystals with lines to form pictures; and a complex clock-themed puzzle that requires either forward planning or a lot of patience.
The game does not hold your hand as much as Final Fantasy XIII-2. This is most apparent around about 15 hours in when you are given a quest to go and find five items throughout time out of a possible seven, and given only vague clues and a picture to help you locate them. Said items are almost invisible in the field, but the Moogle reacts to them when you are close.
There is a quest system, where certain characters will exchange a Fragment for completing a small task, which usually takes the form of either a fetch or kill quest. There is no means of visually distinguishing questgivers from just people you can normally talk to, though once you have accepted their quest they get a marker above their head and on the map.
Collecting set numbers of fragments rewards you with extra special abilities.
Gameplay has a much stronger focus on exploration and observation than Final Fantasy XIII‘s straight-line corridors.
The automap is good and tells you how much of an area you have successfully explored. There is a quest late in the game to 100% as many maps as possible. Areas which you visit in different time periods share map completion percentage.
The weapon upgrade system from Final Fantasy XIII is no longer present. Instead, certain new weapons which you purchase require certain components acquired from monsters.
The Crystarium level-up system is a little different to Final Fantasy XIII. Both Serah and Noel do “laps” of a single crystal formation rather than having a longer “map” per role. On a lap, they can distribute their levels across any of their available roles. On completion of a lap, they can either unlock another role, enhance the bonus of one of their existing roles or extend their Active Time Battle bar, allowing them to complete more actions in succession.
After 25 or so hours, I have maxed out 3 of the 6 possible roles for both Noel and Serah. Progress slows with each lap around the Crystarium, requiring more Crystogenesis Points (acquired by defeating monsters and recovering Fragments) for each level gained.
There’s a monster collection and training aspect. You can equip up to three monsters at once, each one specialising in a single role. These can then be incorporated into the Paradigm system to create custom party lineups.
Monsters are levelled up by feeding them special items rather than spending CP. When a monster completes a lap of its own Crystarium, it starts requiring rarer and/or more expensive items to level up further.
Monsters can be renamed by choosing from a large list of preset names, and adorned with decorative items found throughout the game.
Content has been withheld for DLC. This is most apparent in the “casino” area, where asking an attendant to explain the card games pops up a window that simply says “reserved for future DLC.”
The music is very good and features a mix of both brand new tracks and recognisable ones from Final Fantasy XIII.

So there you go. A series of facts about Final Fantasy XIII-2 which may assist you in the decision of whether or not you want to give it a go. For what it’s worth, I’ve been enjoying it more than I thought I would at the bewildering outset, but it’s not the strongest Final Fantasy there’s ever been, not by a long shot. It is significantly better than Final Fantasy XIII in most respects, however, so those who disliked that may wish to give this one another chance.

I’ve got a few days to finish this off, and then a copy of The Last Story is on its way to me. Given that that game is made by many members of the old Final Fantasy team (notably Hironobu Sakaguchi and Nobuo Uematsu), I am very interested to see what it offers.