#oneaday Day 822: Xoom, Xoom, Xoom, Xoom, I Want You In My Room

I’ve been spending quite a lot of time with my shiny (well, rather fingerprinty now) new Motorola Xoom since it arrived the other day, and I have to say I’m a big fan. While Android seems to be a little more clunky than iOS, particularly prone to slowing down for no apparent reason on occasion, I’m appreciating the things it does do. Having a fully-customisable homescreen is very pleasant, certainly, and the cool quasi-3D effect it does with the wallpaper is pretty neat.

What’s becoming abundantly clear to me as I continue to use it, however, is that using it simply feels very different to the iPad. It might be the fact it’s designed to be used in landscape as opposed to the iPad’s default portrait orientation; it might be the unique array of apps on offer on both devices; it might be a combination of interface elements. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I can say that both devices certainly have a place in my life at this moment for different reasons — and also that getting the Xoom has caused my desire for a 3rd-gen iPad to drop to zero.

If anything, the Xoom seems particularly suited for more “serious” tasks (and by “serious” I mean “not games”) — I’m particularly fond of using it for Twitter, chat, email and that sort of thing. Google Currents has become my go-to app for reading the daily news. The built-in “share” functionality, which allows you to easily send stuff from one app to another easily, is pretty neat. The keyboard I have installed, which lets you type by drawing wiggly lines rather than tapping keys, makes me feel like a wizard, particularly with the sparkly particle pattern that comes from aforementioned wiggly pattern. And the inclusion of a USB port (albeit a micro-USB one that requires an adapter for pretty much every peripheral ever, making one wonder exactly why they didn’t just put a regular USB port on it) means that it’s possible to do things like hook up a keyboard and practically use the damn thing as a sort of laptop.

A big draw for me was the thriving emulation scene on Android, however. Within a few short moments of getting the device up and running I had downloaded NES, SNES, Mega Drive and arcade machine emulators and a few minutes later had successfully transferred my collection of ROM files of dubious origin. What I have now is a portable gaming device that plays pretty much any NES, SNES or Mega Drive game, and a whole heap of arcade games.

This… is awesome. I hadn’t anticipated quite how awesome this was going to be, but the ability to play Final Fantasy VI while on an exercise bike at the gym, or Elevator Action while on the toilet, or Golden Axe while waiting for the kettle to boil… well… yes. It’s awesome. The fact you can hook up a USB controller (or, for that matter, Wii Remote with Classic Controller via Bluetooth) and play these games as they were meant to be played — with actual buttons rather than floaty, crappy touchscreen controls — is a happy bonus. The fact you can use floaty, crappy touchscreen controls at times when having a controller is not convenient or socially acceptable is also most welcome.

I’m certainly not going to become one of those gits who bangs on about how much better Android is than iOS because there are things that both do far, far better than the other. But I’ve been very pleasantly surprised by my first experience with an Android device, and the fact it’s turned out to be a portable retro-gaming powerhouse is just a happy bonus, really. Now I can finally get around to beating all the Final Fantasy games that are still on my “to-do” list. (V and VI, as it happens. Also Chrono Trigger, which may as well be a Final Fantasy game.) And, as previously mentioned, playing Elevator Action on the toilet.

Now, if you’ll excuse me…

#oneaday Day 821: There are Bigger Problems in the World, Like Your Face

Second only to the patented “Everyone Is So Entitled These Days And Should Just Shut Up” argument-defuser is the ever-faithful “Everyone Should Realise That There Are Bigger Problems In The World And Should Just Shut Up” conversation-closer.

I shan’t get into the former here — everyone has talked it to death and should just shut up — but I feel I should address the latter, since I saw it come up on Twitter earlier today. (And, if you’re reading this and you know that you used it, fear not — this isn’t a personal attack on you by any means, just my own thoughts on that particular argument.)

The trouble with the “Everyone Should Realise That There Are Bigger Problems In The World And Should Just Shut Up” argument (hereafter referred to as ESRTTABPITWASJSU) is that it assumes that people who are commenting on or complaining about something are equating their personal reaction to something that is “close” or “important” to them with something that is unquestionably a Big Problem For The World.

This is not the case at all. Recent examples where the ESRTTABPITWASJSU argument has been applied include independent game developer Phil Fish‘s ill-advised admonishment of the entire Japanese game development community in a very public place (and subsequent beratement of those who criticised him on Twitter, culminating with him leaving the social network altogether); and public reaction to the Mass Effect 3 ending. I have no desire to beat those particular drums in any great detail for now, so let’s put the specifics aside for a moment.

Yes. There are bigger problems in the world than both of those things. There are people losing their homes and livelihoods to the economic crisis. There are people in the world with not enough food or water. There are places in the world where diseases go unchecked. There are countries that are ruled by people with only their own interests at heart, not those of their people. There are wars being fought in the name of… what? And there are people who get so passionate about their religious beliefs that they blow themselves up in the name of their god, usually killing many other people in the process.

These are big problems. They are fucked up, massive, humongous problems that we, as individuals, can do very little about. Sure, we can throw our money at charities and, if we’re feeling particularly activist-y, attempt to take some sort of action against. But realistically (or pessimistically, if you prefer) there is very little that Josephine McAveragepants can do about these things since she does not run a government and/or army and/or bank. The problems become so massive that they take on an unreal quality — they often feel like they take place in a parallel reality distant from our own.

This is why people prefer to turn their attentions to problems they feel they can solve, or that they feel they can at least have an impact on. They have every right to do that. They may often have selfish interests at heart, but recent examples of organised action aimed at these relatively minor issues have proven that it’s far from being isolated individuals shouting and screaming about Games for Windows Live in Dark Souls or whether the Mass Effect 3 ending constituted false advertising (apparently, according to one Better Business Bureau blogger anyway, it does, believe it or not) — these are groups of people who are prepared to stand up and be counted in order to tackle problems they feel like they can face.

It’s an idealistic, utopian vision to believe that people (read: the Internet) will rise up together and do something about the bigger problems in the world than the ones they have successfully tackled to date. Maybe it will happen one day. Maybe these small “victories” will give some people the confidence to try something bigger, a little piece at a time. Protesting, say, a war is a bigger deal than signing a petition against the ending for a video game. Some people may be scared to jump in at the deep end, particularly with the apparent risk to life and limb frequently presented by the media, so they take the “safe option”. They feel like their voice is being heard, but relating to an issue which is smaller, closer, more relatable.

The key thing, though, is that none of these people who are sweating the small stuff are saying that the issues they feel strongly about are more important than the Bad Shit Happening Everywhere Else In The World.

No-one is equating those things except, ironically, in many cases, those people making use of the ESRTTABPITWASJSU argument.

#oneaday Day 820: Disagreement

I hate arguing. In fact, I’d go further than that. I hate disagreeing. I have absolutely no doubt that this particular aspect of my personality is a side-effect of the social anxiety that I suffer from, but it sometimes makes discussions hard to participate in.

I’m fine with expressing my opinion and feel I can argue my viewpoint pretty convincingly in most instances — this blog is filled with numerous examples of that, as longtime readers will doubtless know. It’s in the things that happen after my opinion has been stated that things get a little trickier — namely, if someone comes along with a diametrically-opposed viewpoint and the willingness (and/or ability) to argue until they’re blue in the face about how much I’m wrong and how they’re absolutely right.

Most of the time, these disagreements don’t descend into “you’re an idiot”, but my discomfort with disagreeing makes me sometimes feel like it’s implied. I like to think that I go through life as a fairly likeable sort of chap and take great pains to try not to offend anyone (swearing and masturbating stickmen aside, obviously — I’m referring specifically to personal attacks here) so having someone disagree with me and argue their case in an impassioned manner is a frustrating, disquieting experience that often makes me wish I had kept my mouth shut in the first place.

Part of this is due to the fact that I tend to cycle negative experiences around and around inside my head involuntarily. Even a seemingly innocuous, irrelevant discussion that might have gotten a little bit heated somewhere along the way is enough to keep me awake at night sometimes — and those rare situations where someone is actually genuinely upset by something which has occurred? I can pretty much forget about remaining calm, instead preferring to stare into space, replaying the incident in my mind and wondering what could have happened if things went a little differently.

It can happen before time, too. If I know there’s some form of difficult conversation coming up, I’ll find myself role-playing it in my head, imagining what might happen. Inevitably my mental conversation has the worst possible outcome, usually descending into someone getting yelled at or thumped. This does at least make having the actual conversation pleasantly surprising almost without exception, since no-one ever gets thumped and hardly anyone ever gets yelled at.

I guess part of the frustration over all this is to do with power, or more specifically, a feeling of powerlessness. If you know (or at least believe) that your opinion on something is inherently sensible and others seem to think that you’re speaking gibberish, it’s disheartening — particularly if said opponents of your viewpoint are aggressive and stubborn in their dismissal of what you have to say. It’s particularly disappointing and upsetting when people whom you like and respect fall into this category, too.

Nine times out of ten, the argument just wasn’t worth having in the first place, too. So what I have taken to doing most of the time these days is just stepping back before jumping in to a debate, thinking “will this get heated? Is it worth potentially getting upset over?” and then — only then — making a decision on whether or not to proceed. In some cases, said decision leads to launching a discussion and dealing with the consequences. In others, it leads to walking away — deleting the unsent tweet, closing the comments section, biting my tongue. And in extreme cases, it leads to me feeling like the correct course of action is simply to remove myself from the situation in question and ensure it doesn’t arise again — online, that means unfriending, unfollowing and/or blocking people; offline… well, you just walk away and don’t look back.

Some people are built for arguing. I don’t think I’m one of them.

#oneaday Day 819: I’m a PC, and I’m a Mac…

…and I’m also a PS3, a Wii, a 360, an iOS and an Android. I’m pretty frickin’ multicultural when it comes to operating systems and platforms, in short. Always have been.

The whole “platform wars” thing always bothers me. It’s usually started by the media and then perpetuated by fanboys who get angrier and angrier and spew more and more meaningless vitriol at one another until everyone leaves feeling rather embarrassed about the whole thing.

This isn’t a phenomenon limited to children and teenagers, either. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen grown men and women posting ridiculous comments about how much they “hate” Apple/Microsoft/Google/Sony/Nintendo/that guy Barry from the chip shop (to be fair, he is a bit of a wanker) and getting increasingly riled up when people try to talk sense into them. Or when people deliberately bait them. Or when people take their comments a little too personally and start yelling back. Or… you get the idea.

It’s been going on as long as there have been rival, roughly equivalent platforms doing similar things. We see it with every generation of computers, consoles, handhelds, smartphones, tablets, operating systems… it goes on and on. And, as I say, it’s usually started by the media, though in most cases it’s a bit of a “light the fuse and watch” sort of scenario, whereby they’ll sow the seeds of conflict and then just let consumers batter each other into submission with increasingly-dumb arguments.

I’ve never subscribed to this particular attitude. I don’t see the point. Every platform has its pros and cons. Some are likely to be more successful than others. Some will flop, hard. But they all have their place, and if you enjoy using them or find them useful, then that’s a win. If you have no use for them or don’t find them interesting, cool or exciting, then that’s no loss to you. There’s certainly no reason to judge people who do like them, though.

Let’s take the Android/iOS distinction. These two groups are regularly at each others’ throats, with Android users often hijacking iOS app Facebook pages with comments that just say “Android.” repeatedly under the mistaken assumption that this will make the developer of said app want to support them, and iOS users honking on about incompatibility, how much better their devices are and how cool they look. The vocal proportion of both groups are insufferable arseholes, and I really wish they would shut up.

I entered the Android brigade today with the arrival of my new Motorola Xoom tablet. I got it for several reasons — work, curiosity and the emulation scene. What I found was that I gained an immediate appreciation of what Android did, but did not suddenly find myself hating iOS, Apple and everything they stood for. Instead, from a rational, relatively neutral (well, I have been exclusively iOS for mobile for a number of years now!) point of view, I could see that both of these operating systems had distinctive purposes, and could appreciate both of them.

iOS is simple, easy, consistent and clear. You know what you’re getting with an iOS device. When you run an iOS app (games aside) you generally know what the interface is going to look like, and you can usually figure out how it’s going to work. This is true to such a degree that when apps make minor changes to what is seen as the “standard” way that things work, it’s very uncomfortable. A good example is the Spotify iPhone app, which has the “go back” and “now playing” buttons the opposite way around to how the iPhone’s native music player has — it’s a little confusing and irritating. Not enough to warrant INTERNET RAGE, obviously, but it highlights the fact that most iOS apps are a little more consistent with their interface design.

The “walled garden” aspect of iOS has its place, too. For those who are new to smartphones, tablets and technology in general, the fact that everything scary is walled off means that people can experiment and gain confidence with the device without breaking anything. Apple as a company has been increasingly moving towards the more “casual”, “consumer” market over the last few years — various changes to OSX indicate this, too — and the easier and more consistent things are for users, the better so far as they’re concerned. All this has the side-effect of irritating self-confessed “power users”, however.

But then there’s Android, which would be ideal for said “power users” if they weren’t so stubborn. Annoyed at lack of customisation? You can do that on Android. Wish you could transfer files to the device simply by connecting it to a USB port, not by farting around with app-specific transfer programs? Sure, go ahead. Want to use non Apple-branded accessories, including USB gizmos? Knock yourself out!

The side-effect of all this, of course, is that it provides more things to go wrong. It’s still pretty difficult to break an Android device from what I can tell — at least if you haven’t “rooted” it, a process which I still don’t really understand — but there are more variables in play. You can install apps from places other than one single “official” App Store. There’s a greater risk of malware — something which is practically nonexistent for non-jailbroken iOS devices. The interface(s) for Android apps is (are) maddeningly inconsistent at times. And although the iOS App Store carries a lot of absolute garbage, there’s even more on Android.

Both have their place, in short, and both have their own flaws — just as Windows and OSX have their place; PS3, 360 and Wii have their place; and if you really want to keep on using that Palm Tungsten you’ve had kicking around for years now, be my guest.

In short — and I’m aware I’ve said this before to little effect on the Internet at large, but it’s nice to at least try — people should pretty much just shut the fuck up and enjoy what they’ve got while ignoring what they haven’t got. We’d have a much nicer world without all this envy and jealousy floating around — since, after all, that’s pretty much what most fanboy arguments tend to boil down to — so why do we still do it?

I guess it’s fun to be contrary. Well, you can count me out. So far as tech goes, I’m multicultural and proud.

#oneaday Day 818: “So Fed Up With SOMEBODY…”

Passive aggression. It’s an ugly business, for sure, but never has it been easier to participate in than in this age of social media. While the phenomenon has been around for many years in the form of bickering couples saying things like “SOMEBODY didn’t do the washing up” or making other such pointed remarks either directly at each other or to other people within earshot of their partner, it wasn’t until people gained the ability to broadcast their every waking thought to the entire world that it became the worldwide craze that it is today.

I’m not sure exactly what it achieves. I’ve indulged in it in the past — in my defence, there were extenuating circumstances at the time — and it didn’t really make me feel any better, though it did have the effect I desired at the time: to get some validation and reassurance from friends, and to piss off, upset or otherwise get the attention of a specific person. I wasn’t particularly proud of the result. I ended up feeling worse about the thing I was trying to get out of my system than before the passive-aggressive incident. So I try and avoid it in most cases these days. (Note: most. No-one is infallible. And I’m aware that not sharing the details of said incident above could be construed as a form of passive aggressiveness. But, well, shut up.)

Why has social media been a catalyst for the growth of passive-aggressiveness, though? Quite simply, it’s because it gives people the ability to feel like they’re being heard even when no-one is really listening. Post something along the lines of “SO PISSED OFF WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW!!!” on Facebook and within a matter of minutes you’ll have at least one “Like” and one comment saying something along the lines of “u ok hun?”. Since you’re being passive-aggressive, though, you couldn’t possibly say exactly what’s up with you at the time, and as such you drop vague hints as to what is bothering you without actually saying it. Or, worse, you leave a comment to the “u ok hun?” commenter saying “I texted you”, letting everyone else reading the comment thread know that you’re telling someone all about what/who has pissed you off this week, encouraging a flurry of private messages and texts to said person asking “Do you know what’s up with so-and-so?”

Eventually, of course, the whole sordid saga comes out because statistically, someone in your group of friends is likely to have loose lips. We know this from sitcoms where one member of a group of friends is forced to keep someone’s secret but finds themselves increasingly tempted to reveal everything to someone else, whom it transpires actually knew it anyway. Or, to base ourselves back in reality, some people like telling others secrets because it gives them a feeling of power — “I know something you don’t, but I’ll tell you if you buy me a drink/buy me a pony/sleep with me” — and thus said secret gradually spreads and spreads until, inevitably, it gets back to the person it originated from, who traces it back to the person who they told in confidence and then posts another passive-aggressive status update about how they’re, like, totally so pissed off with people who can’t keep secrets.

You get the idea, anyway.

As human beings, we have a variety of means of communication at our disposal, and it’s pretty clear to most of us that being upfront and honest about things often makes life a lot easier in the long run, even if it might be a bit like tearing off a plaster in the short term. But in the heat of the moment, it’s all too easy to focus on that “short term” bit and take the easy option, which is to bottle up the things we’re really feeling and simply spout vague bullshit into the ether in the hopes that someone — anyone — will reach out to us and give us someone to talk to.

We never learn our lesson, though — at least not if my Facebook news feed and Twitter timeline are anything to go by.

#oneaday Day 817: Countdown to a Non-Event

It’s my 31st birthday on the 29th of this month, something which I am neither massively looking forward to or dreading — it’s just happening. (That said, there is the distinct possibility of nerdtastic board game action in the name of celebration, so I guess I am sort of looking forward to it.)

Birthdays are one of those things that seem massively important when you’re a kid but decline in relevance as you get older, with only the big “decade change” birthdays being a particularly big deal in most cases. My 30th was pretty awesome, as it happened, since not only did my awesome girlfriend take me to London for happy funtimes (on royal wedding day, as it happened, but that didn’t make things as inconvenient as I expected it might) but I then got to hang out with a goodly proportion of my UK-based friends (and one US-based friend who happened to be in the country at the time!) and eat lots of curry. Which was nice.

Thinking back on it, though, I’m not sure I can remember that many birthdays from my past. I was never particularly big on the whole “party” thing even when I was little — I remember going to plenty of other kids’ parties at the local village hall, eating cake and playing Pass The Parcel, though I don’t have any traumatic clown experiences to have revelations about in therapy (unless they’re particularly well-hidden and repressed) and I was rarely — if ever, I forget — the actual “host” or “guest of honour” of such an event.

I’m fine with this, as it happens, though it may have begun to carve my personality into the shape it is today. A big “party” full of people I don’t really know very well all putting pressure on me to have a good time is not a situation I particularly want to put myself in, particularly as it’s considered impolite and/or drama queen-ish to tell everyone that you’ve had enough and you’d just like them all to, you know, fuck off right now please.

I think the best birthday celebrations I’ve had were loosely-organised affairs where I maybe had the opportunity to hang out with a few friends, but there was no real pressure on anyone to be wild, wacky or drunk. Oftentimes there was all of the above, but rarely was it forced.

One particularly memorable occasion came during my first year at university, so I guess it must have been my 19th birthday. The halls of residence flat in which I lived had become a pretty close-knit group (most of us, anyway — there was one girl who perpetually did her own thing) and so we decided that we would go to local student hotspot and well-known grot spot Clowns, a “wine bar” that had an attached basement nightclub known as Jesters.

To call Clowns a “wine bar” was to polish a turd, really, since it was simply a “bar”. Okay, it served wine, but the phrase “wine bar” implies a certain degree of classiness that Clowns most certainly did not possess. Rather, it was the sort of place in which you stuck to the floor if you stood still for too long, and its companion nightclub Jesters (which seemed to be perpetually open, even during the day) was the kind of place whose toilets regularly overflowed and coated the dance floor with a sloppy mess of urine, cigarette butts and all manner of other unpleasantness. The theory was that by the time you got into Jesters, you were usually so wasted that you didn’t mind what you might be stepping in/on, so it was something of a moot point.

I digress. This particular birthday celebration was one of those “unstructured” sort of occasions. Clowns was running some sort of summer special whereby they’d provide you with a four-pint jug of its signature “Juicy Lucy” cocktail for about four quid, and as such most people there were clutching said jugs like giant tankards, pouring the luminescent green concoction down their throats with gay abandon.

I remember relatively little about what we were actually doing at the pub — drinking, probably — but for some reason I have oddly lucid memories of what happened upon our return to the flat. My flatmate Chris, for one, decided that the thing to do would be to sit in the corner of my bedroom with a pair of my (clean) underpants on his head. (I believe he was later sick on his door and subsequently refused to come out of his room for the rest of the evening, though this may have been another occasion.) My friend Simon, who did not live in the same halls of residence as us, fell asleep on my bed. All I really wanted to do at this time was fall asleep, too, so I opened up my wardrobe, rested my head on the bin-bag full of laundry that was in there (surprisingly comfortable) and drifted off for a little while.

I awoke a couple of hours later to find Simon just rousing from his slumber, too.

“I’m just going to run my head under the tap and then leave,” he said blearily. He stood up, and from my low vantage point I heard him go into the kitchen, run the tap as he suggested, and a few moments later, the front door banged to indicate that he had indeed left.

This occasion was clearly a silly situation in which almost nothing of any note whatsoever occurred, but for some reason it has stuck in my memory for many, many years. I can only wonder what strange memories future celebrations may burn onto my brain.

#oneaday Day 816: Half-Past One, AM

It’s 1:30 in the morning, because I’ve spent the last little while putting together my first article for ages on Bitmob/GamesBeat. It’s about the three “Operation Rainfall” RPGs — Xenoblade Chronicles, The Last Story and Pandora’s Tower. You can find it here. Please give it some love. I was tempted to recreate the whole thing here and call that today’s post, but I thought I’d at least make an effort to do something different. For some reason. I don’t know why. I’m kind of tapped out on creativity, but I have no doubt that just typing and typing in my usual stream of consciousness manner will cause at least something to flow out.

Whether or not it’ll be interesting does, of course, at the time of writing this sentence, remain to be seen.

This week has been one of those ones that has simultaneously zipped by at a breakneck pace and also appeared to be exhaustingly busy. I don’t think I’ve been doing anything particularly out of the ordinary — though we have been to the gym a few times after a few weeks of poor motivation — but things have felt more chaotic than usual. I’ve been working as usual (this week’s iOS app recommendations: Skylanders Cloud Patrol and Saturday Morning RPG with an honourable mention for Burnout Crash even though I have a suspicion it might be a bit rubbish) and hanging out on Twitter. I also sat in our back garden for the first time ever. I read a bit of a book on my Kindle. It was nice, and I’ve apparently got over my fear of deckchairs.

I also ordered an Android tablet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a total Apple fanboy (I’m typing this on one of two iMacs that adorn my desk, and my iPhone and iPad are within easy reach) but 1) I’m curious about what Android has to offer and 2) it will be useful for my work. Also, 3) Android tabs — particularly the Motorola Xoom, which is the one I’ve ordered — are great for emulation and retro gaming. A Twitter friend regularly evangelises about how great it is to have a portable device which merrily plays the entire back catalogue from systems such as the SNES, Mega Drive, NES, Master System and numerous other platforms, and I won’t lie, that possibility is immensely appealing. Imagine how cool it would be to roll up to a friend’s house with a single device and be able to play things like Street Fighter II and Mario Kart without having to faff around behind their TV? Awesome. (Hopefully. I’m yet to see it in action. But I’m confident.)

In a few moments I will be going to bed, and then it will be the weekend. Technically it is already the weekend, I suppose, but it’s not really the weekend until you wake up on Saturday morning after sleeping and then eat bacon and sausages and eggs and smother them in brown sauce. (Yes, brown sauce is the correct sauce to put on a full English.)

Oh, I give up. My brain is dry and so I cut my losses and say goodbye. (Hey, that rhymes.) Good night!

#oneaday Day 815: Pandora’s Tower — Some First Impressions

So, the third of the three “Operation Rainfall” titles is finally upon us here in the UK (well, technically tomorrow, but Amazon were good enough to ship it to me a day early), completing the Holy Trinity of Wii-based Japanese role-playing games that many are lauding as the real last hurrah of Nintendo’s system. (I’ve actually lost count of how many times people have referred to Wii games as the system’s “last hurrah” or similar, but with Wii U on the relatively near horizon, it might actually be true this time.)

Like its predecessors Xenoblade Chronicles by MonolithSoft and The Last Story by Mistwalker, Ganbarion‘s Pandora’s Tower is far from what you’d call a conventional JRPG. In fact, of the three titles, Pandora’s Tower is the least traditionally RPG-ish and will likely prove to be the most divisive due to its curious mix of game styles. That’s not to say it’s bad — far from it, in fact — but those coming in and expecting a traditional globetrotting adventure with a cast of loveable misfits will find themselves surprised by what they discover.

Pandora’s Tower tells the story of a pair of young star-crossed lovers named Aeron and Elena. Aeron, the player character, doesn’t say much besides the odd grunt and “yes” but is clearly devoted to Elena. Elena, meanwhile, has a bit of a problem; she’s cursed. And, as curses go, this one’s a doozy — she’s slowly turning into a slobbering monster with icky skin and tentacles wriggling out of her shoulder. Discovering the nature of the curse at a harvest festival, Aeron and Elena flee into the wilderness accompanied by a strange old crone named Mavda who inexplicably carries a jar on her back containing an enormous skeletal man who occasionally babbles indecipherable gibberish. Madva reveals that there is one way to break the curse — for Elena to eat the flesh of twelve “masters” who reside in twelve towers that make up an imposing-looking fortress hovering over a terrifying-looking abyss known as The Scar.

As you have probably surmised, this is where the player comes in. Elena, being rather delicate and demure when she’s not slobbering and betentacled, isn’t exactly equipped to go monster hunting, so it’s up to Aeron to take his improbably large sword, magic chain (provided by Mavda) and floppy hair (model’s own) into the aforementioned towers to defeat the masters, rip out their “master flesh” and feed it to Elena (who was, at least until this whole mess started, a vegetarian for religious reasons) in order to save her from a hideous fate. Simple, right? All in a day’s work for an almost-mute hero.

Gameplay evolves in several discrete sections, and it’s the combination of these factors that makes Pandora’s Tower such an original, distinctive experience. If you were to boil it down to video game math, then the following equation would probably cover most of what I’ve experienced so far:

(Castlevania: Lords of Shadow – Patrick Stewart) + Ico + Shadow of the Colossus * Zelda + dating sim = Pandora’s Tower

There are two main components to gameplay: dungeoneering and downtime. During downtime, the player may, as Aeron, hang out with Elena in their makeshift hideout, ask her about the lore of the world, shower her with gifts, feed her various meaty treats and throw her untranslated texts so she can make herself useful. Aeron may also call up Mavda, who appears to perpetually live outside the back door of the hideout, and buy things from her, get her to craft and repair items, get her to upgrade equipment and offload excess meat. She’ll also pay Aeron for any texts he’s found — including newly-translated ones from Elena — which provides the player with a decent income stream if they take the time to explore and discover things. That completionist’s nightmare — the “percentage completed” gauge — makes an appearance in the game’s menu so those who want to make sure they get the full experience can see at a glance how close they are.

All this downtime activity isn’t just for show — most of the Elena-related activity affects the couple’s relationship, and providing certain gifts also causes her to spruce up the hideout with her own personal touches. The game’s ending is supposedly determined by the relationship value between the two by the time the story comes to an end, so it’s in players’ interests to ensure that they keep their lady sweet.

Upon leaving the hideout and heading for one of the dungeons, however, gameplay takes a decidedly different turn. It becomes a combination of third-person combat and environmental puzzle solving. Aeron may attack beasties with his sword and unleash combos, but it’s the chain that provides the most interesting gameplay possibilities. By aiming the chain with the Wii Remote’s pointer (or the right analogue stick on the Classic Controller) and attaching it to enemies, environmental structures and all manner of other things, Aeron is able to cause all kinds of mischief. And there’s plenty of scope for creative silliness, too — try attaching one end of the chain to one enemy’s legs and the other to another enemy’s face, for example.

Aeron’s goal in each dungeon is, like a Zelda game, to unlock the boss chamber and then defeat said boss. Rather than relying on a huge inventory of items, however, the majority of the game’s puzzle solving comes from creative use of the chain. Sometimes you’ll be pulling levers with it, sometimes you’ll be throwing chunks of ore into soft walls to use as hooks to grapple on to, sometimes you’ll be tying sentient plants to pillars and chopping them to bits before they burrow into the ground. And you’ll often be using the chain to rip out gobs of flesh and other crafting ingredients from fallen enemies, because Elena’s curse isn’t waiting for you.

No, indeed — a timer in the corner of the screen shows the progress of Elena’s transformation. It can be reset by grabbing some tasty meat and taking it back to her, but this requires you to make your way back through the dungeon you’ve just battled your way through, then delve back into it once you’ve given her her treats. Fortunately, the dungeons are designed in such a way that progressing further in them allows you to set up various shortcuts, and knowing the layout of them a bit better also allows you to romp through them fairly quickly. Progress doesn’t reset upon leaving the dungeon, so it’s perfectly feasible to unlock the boss room, go back, feed Elena and then go kick some boss ass.

It becomes an exercise in time management — can you make it through the boss fight before Elena goes all tentacly? (Should she find herself going all tentacly, this does, as you may expect, have an adverse effect on the couple’s relationship.) Or should you play it safe and head back with a bag full of meaty treats? This constant weighing up of pros and cons is further exacerbated by the fact that Aeron can only carry so much crap in his bag at once, necessitating a return to the hideout every so often to offload junk or craft it into useful items. This does, however, provide an opportunity for Aeron and Elena to spend some time together and improve their relationship, so it’s not a wasted trip — though the traipsing back and forth may annoy some.

There’s a lot to do, but the dungeons (at least the two I’ve completed so far) are well-designed and satisfying to figure out. A real sense of urgency is provided by the curse timer ticking away in the corner of the screen, and I can only imagine how the intensity of this will increase as the dungeons grow in complexity. The story is told in a less “in your face” manner than a lot of other games, with a strong focus on the relationship between Aeron and Elena, and a lot of environmental storytelling through discarded notes and architectural design. It’s an intimate sort of game, by turns lonely and daunting in the dungeoneering segments and heartwarming when the couple is together. At its heart is the tale of a relationship between two people and the lengths people will go to for love — an experience that, so far at least, is altogether unlike any other Japanese role-playing game or action adventure that I’ve played in recent memory.

In short, it’s a fitting dénouement to the “Operation Rainfall” trio of titles — and to the Wii’s catalogue in general. It’s actually pretty remarkable that three of the best “core” games of the generation are on a system that many people denounce as being “kiddy”, “casual” or a waste of time — or dismiss outright for not being HD. Deprive yourself of these three games simply on the grounds that they don’t look as good as, say, Mass Effect 3 and you’re depriving yourself of three distinctive, bold and original titles that are the perfect antithesis to the “cookie-cutter” approach of triple-A development and publishing. I hope beyond hope that their small but loyal fanbases will be enough for these studios to be able to keep doing what they do.

Further thoughts on Pandora’s Tower will follow when I’ve beaten it. In the meantime, if you’re American, go pick up a copy of Xenoblade Chronicles before it becomes impossible to find, and be sure to support Xseed’s release of The Last Story — and whoever picks up Pandora’s Tower — when they show up later this year.

[Edit: Apologies — I misread some recent news that made it look as if Xseed was bringing Pandora’s Tower to the US later in the year. It seems the status of that title’s US release is still somewhat up in the air — but we can hope!]

#oneaday Day 814: Myself, Myself and Myself

Watched The Apprentice tonight. Out of the interminable string of asinine reality shows that the idiot-box forces into our collective consciousness, Lord Sugar‘s ouevre is the one that offends me the least. It still offends me, of course, though not for the same reasons that, say, Britain’s Got Talent does. No, Britain’s Got Talent makes me feel stupid for watching it. (So I don’t.) The Apprentice, meanwhile, finds me infuriated at the people depicted therein — the fact that the show itself typically shows them up to look like the bunch of chancers they are takes the edge off, however.

One of the worst things these people do is talk. No, seriously. Every time they open their mouths it’s a veritable string of business cliches, one after another. One of the most prolific, egregious examples is the incorrect use of the word “myself”. Everyone on that show seems to think that using the word “myself” instead of “me” or “I” makes them sound more “formal” or “polite”.

“Who was responsible for this?” yells Lord Sugar.

“That was myself,” pipes up someone with impossibly blue eyes.

“And who worked in the production side of things?”

“Myself was working in production, along with Randolph, Bellend and Fuckwhistle,” comes the reply from the blonde one with the annoying attitude. (I can’t remember their real names.)

You get the idea.

The same principle is also, it seems, applied to the word “yourself”, which has apparently become an acceptable substitute for the word “you” somewhere along the line.

“I think the team working on this should be yourself, myself and Craptwat,” says Fuckwhistle.

I can’t work out where this faux-formality that makes people talk incorrectly (or, to be less prescriptive about it, “faux-formality that makes people complicate their speech unnecessarily”) has come from. Perhaps it’s a modern-day variant of the archaic “thou art/you are” distinction, which everyone uses incorrectly these days anyway. (And with good reason, obviously — it’s archaic, duh.) Whatever it is, it needs to die, for the same reason that people who use words like “trendy” and “funky” just need to stop right now. Words like that are ones which lose all their meaning and become the opposite of what they’re supposed to be as soon as they come out of someone’s mouth. The same is also true for anyone who says Internet memes out loud or — God forbid — says “LOL” in earnestness.

But I digress.

Language is constantly changing and evolving, usually for the better. We have a veritable shit-ton more words than we used to (and plenty more, like “shit-ton”, that you won’t find in the OED) and the English language has never been more complex, more expressive and more descriptive than it is now. It doesn’t need to be overcomplicated with misplaced formality. There are already pretty good systems in place for indicating that you’re speaking formally — lose the contractions, cut the slang, actually bother to pronounce the letter “t” — so stop making up rules. And while we’re on, grab a dictionary and look up what “literally” means. It’s not an intensifier. It means something actually happened. Stop using it wrong or I will literally jam this pencil into an orifice of yours that it’s not usually supposed to find itself in.

And yes, I mean literally.

#oneaday Day 813: Fitocrat

I last wrote about up-and-coming “fitness social game” Fitocracy back in… [checks] Ooh. October of last year. I thought it was more recently. I feel less guilty about writing about it tonight, in that case.

For the uninitiated, Fitocracy is a site which gamifies your exercise regime. Completing exercises rewards you with points. Points mean level ups. Level ups mean… well, nothing actually, but they provide you with bragging rights plus also give you a rough idea of how much cumulative exercise you’ve done since you started tracking it (and, in theory, “got serious” about it).

Tracking exercises can be done in two ways: manually logging them or linking to a Runkeeper account. The former is necessary for exercises which can’t be automatically tracked such as resistance machines, free weights and bodyweight exercises. The latter is the easiest way to track cardiovascular workouts — particularly those where you’ve actually, you know, gone outside — but you can also track CV stuff directly within Fitocracy if you don’t want to plaster your information over yet another site. (Runkeeper is a pretty cool app, though, so if you’re serious about your fitness, enjoy attempting to draw GPS penises via your exercise route and have a smartphone, it’s worth a download.)

If Fitocracy was just an exercise-tracking system with a levelling system, it’d be pretty decent. But the team behind it has gone the extra mile and included a bunch of other stuff, too. There are Achievements for a variety of things ranging from engaging with the site’s social features to performing challenging exercises. There is a Quest system that provides specific, one-off missions for you to undertake — a good means of setting yourself long-term goals if you can’t think of any of your own. You can save your favourite routines so you can easily recall and record them. There’s a solid Groups system whereby you and your friends can work together and even set up mini-challenges to see who can earn the most points in a set time period. And the whole thing is wrapped in a straightforward, conventional but effective and highly-polished social interface that encourages interaction and encouragement between “players”.

All in all, it’s an excellent motivational tool. Everything combined together forms a powerful system that makes you feel like you’re being “rewarded” for bettering yourself when, in fact, you’re simply making a variable go a bit higher each time or occasionally unlocking intangible shiny things. The thing is, though, you are actually rewarding yourself. You’re bettering yourself. You’re getting fit. You’re learning how to self-motivate. And, assuming you’ve managed to badger some friends into joining up too, you’re also being rewarded by positive encouragement and reinforcement from other people who are going through the same thing. It’s a social network for people who are serious about their fitness — or who want to get serious about their fitness. And it does its job extremely well.

Fitocracy was in closed beta for a pretty long time, and during that period it was only possible to use the service if you had an invite. Now, though, the whole thing is open to the public and is completely free to use — though power users have the option of shelling out $4.99 a month to become a “hero” and get early access to new features. The service has had a fresh new coat of purple paint, its site looks great and the new iPhone app is a pleasure to use with its simple, intuitive and attractive interface.

So why not give it a try? Here’s my profile. I’ll be your friend! NOW GET MOVING, MAGGOT!