Month: January 2013

1098: Nepgagaga Complete!

Page_1I finished Hyperdimension Neptunia tonight, thereby proving beyond a doubt that review scores are now completely and utterly useless to me. I kind of suspected this already, but the fact that I devoured and loved a game that Eurogamer gave a 2/10 speaks volumes about how far my tastes have drifted from the mainstream.

With that in mind, some people have been expressing curiosity about this game after hearing me talk about it, so I am going to use this post in an attempt to share some facts about it that may help you reach a decision as to whether or not you would find it an enjoyable experience. Not everyone will like it, and that’s fine — I really enjoyed it, but I recognise its flaws.

So here we go then.

It’s roughly 50% visual novel. Story scenes in Hyperdimension Neptunia are selected from a menu rather than occurring naturally during exploring a town or something, and are all presented in a head-and-shoulders visual novel style. In a twist on the usual way in which VNs are presented, however, the portraits are animated — they breathe, change expressions, have lipsyncing and move their heads. It’s not quite the same as a fully-animated anime scene (or indeed in-engine cutscenes) but it looks very nice and the art is lovely.

The other 50% is old-school JRPG dungeon crawler. You’ll spend your non-story time in Hyperdimension Neptunia wandering through a variety of rather samey dungeons. There are a very limited number of environments, and only a set number of layouts to explore. Objectives are generally either “reach the exit” or “kill the boss”, with occasional “collect [x] of [y]”. Structurally, it’s nothing special, and the “collect [x] of [y]” or “kill [x] of [monster]” objectives are largely dependent on luck, which some may find frustrating. The game is non-linear all the way through, however, meaning if you’re struggling on one dungeon (or even the final boss!) you can simply shoot off and do something else for a bit.

There are random encounters. A hangover from the old days of JRPGs, random encounters are the bane of some RPG fans’ existence. They are present and correct in Hyperdimension Neptunia. Whether or not you get irritated by random encounters will play a big part in determining whether or not you will have an enjoyable time.

This girl is the PlayStation personified. I'm not even joking.The combat system is GREAT. To counter the potential annoyance of random encounters, the combat system is hugely enjoyable. Taking its cues from Xenogears, each character has a set number of Action Points to spend per turn. Three of the PS3 controller’s face buttons are assigned to different attacks (each costing a particular number of AP) by default, and as each character levels up they learn new moves. These moves must then be manually assigned to individual button presses in any of the possible combinations of four buttons that make up a combo. Different moves have different “end bonuses” if placed in the fourth slot of the combo — some allow the combo to continue registering after the fourth button press, others allow the party member to “switch” with one in the back row, effectively granting the player a free turn, and some characters have the magical girl-esque ability to transform. It’s great fun setting up and naming your own combos, and there’s a pleasing almost puzzle-like element to working out which ones will flow nicely into other ones while still leaving you with enough AP to be effective.

You can customize a whole ton of stuff in combat. You can rename button combos and apply your own images to certain special attacks. Other special attacks that you find throughout the course of the game are all based on old Sega games, allowing you to do things like summon the dude from Altered Beast or Alex Kidd to lay the smack down on your enemies.

There’s a really weird item system. Rather than a conventional item system, Hyperdimension Neptunia makes use of a strange “crafting” system in combat to handle healing and the like — you can’t heal outside battle, except by leaving or completing a dungeon. There are four crafting materials that you collect and/or purchase, and different combinations of these are required to activate each character’s unique “item skills”, each of which has a time when it occurs, a trigger condition and a target. For example, a basic healing item skill might be “When damaged and HP is 50% or less, heal 30% of HP in exchange for 5 of one item and 5 of another.” The twist is that each character only has a limited number of “item skill points” which can be funneled into any of their item skills — one point equates to a 1% chance that when the condition is fulfilled at the appropriate time, the skill will trigger. For example, the character IF has a skill that will resurrect any fallen party members with 50% HP at the end of her turn, but this is only absolutely guaranteed to happen if you put 100 points into that skill. You can shift these points around at will — even during combat, except in the middle of a combo — and it adds an interesting degree of strategy to an otherwise attack-focused combat system, but it’s bizarre, only sort-of works as a concept and will almost certainly piss some people off. I quite liked it by the end of the game, but it takes some adjustment to get your head around.

There’s a “skip animation” button in combat. If you’re starting to find the endless fighting rather dull, you can simply tap the L2 button to skip any animation, whether it’s a regular attack by you or the enemies or a lengthy piece of JRPG “final attack” showboating. This means that you can romp through combats super-quickly if you’re not too concerned about watching animations.

There’s a bunch of grinding later in the game if you want to get the best ending. There are three endings to the game that are dependent on whether or not you recruit three characters in the story — a “bad” one if you don’t recruit any of them, a “good” one if you recruit one or two of them and a “true” one if you recruit all three of them. Getting all three of them involves manipulating a mechanic which is never explicitly explained in the game, and requires replaying a lot of dungeons that are, by that point, far too low-level for you and thus almost insultingly easy. Fortunately, you can make use of the aforementioned “skip animation” button to rip through most of these dungeons in a minute or less.

The in-engine graphics aren’t great. While the hi-res visual novel scenes look lovely, the in-game graphics look distinctly PS2ish and suffer from a fairly poor frame rate when compared to their mediocre quality. This is, apparently, fairly common practice for the developers Compile Heart and Idea Factory, and doesn’t affect the enjoyment at all, but those who appreciate super-pretty graphics will only find functional visuals here. That said, the animations are nice and the characters all have plenty of personality about them.

The music is annoyingly catchy, but limited. There aren’t many different music tracks in the game, which means by the end you may well be tiring of some of them. That said, they are catchy, recognisable themes that you may well find yourself humming along with, and there are multiple battle themes rather than the same one all the way through the game.

The game offers both Japanese and English voiceovers. Both have their merits, though some parts haven’t been dubbed into English, meaning they’re just text. On the whole, the Japanese voice track is superior in terms of acting quality (though beware the high-pitched voices if that sort of thing bugs you), but it’s nice to hear the American voice actor who plays Yukari in Persona 3 again on the English track.

The game is genuinely amusing… if you’re a fan of Japanese media and video games. The game prides itself on affectionate lampshading of anime and video game tropes, with the characters regularly breaking the fourth wall to talk about their role in the game. There are also plenty of optional scenes with references to various video games and anime, though some feel a little forced. If you don’t like things being very obviously referenced, the humour in this game may not be for you. See also:

The game is stuffed full of innuendo and fanservice. The party in Hyperdimension Neptunia is exclusively female, and male characters throughout are very limited, mostly represented as silhouetted portraits alongside the huge, animated head-and-shoulders shots of the girls. There’s a lot of boob-related humour, particularly surrounding the discrepancy in size between several party members’ breasts, and a number of comic misunderstandings that initially appear to be somewhat sexual in nature but later turn out to be something far more innocuous. There’s also a clearly-underage openly-lesbian character (though it’s implied that most of the characters have at least a slight inclination in this direction), you’ll see a lot of pantsu-flashing and suggestive positions (see below) over the course of the game, most of the girls wear incredibly impractical outfits (see below), and their boobies bounce on the special “event” pictures that normally accompany a character’s first appearance (see below!). It’s all fairly harmless and there’s nothing outright pornographic; it feels cheeky and light-hearted rather than malicious or exploitative and is certainly no worse than anything seen in popular anime, but some may object to it or find it embarrassing.

This is how you first encounter IF, Iffy, I-chan.There’s a bunch of DLC, 90% of which is completely unnecessary. For the true Hyperdimension Neptunia fan, the game carries a wide selection of downloadable content, most of which takes the form of free additional quests that can be added into the game. Most players who download these will be very surprised to discover that a lot of them have recommended levels well into the hundreds, while the level cap in the game is just 99. You can, however, purchase extensions to the level cap to take it right up to 999, along with “boosters” to increase the various characters’ stats if you’re really struggling. None of these are essential, and these high-level dungeons provide the exact same experience as the rest of the game, so they’re really not worth downloading. (If you do want to grind to 999, it will take you roughly the length of the rest of the game put together doing the same dungeon over and over and over again. Methinks someone was having a laugh with this DLC.)

The other 10% of the DLC should probably have been in the game in the first place. There are four pieces of DLC that are worth buying — two “battle tickets” that allow the use of otherwise non-playable party members in combat, and two additional characters who have their own sequence of event scenes. Again, none of these are essential — the additional characters’ plotlines tend to be kept fairly separate to the main core of the party, and you get plenty of characters over the course of the main game to fill up your party — but it’s curious that these weren’t just included on the game disc. (They’re not on-disc DLC, either — each is a 100MB+ download.) Given that you can find a copy of the game for not-very-much-money fairly easily these days, I didn’t really object to paying a couple of extra quid to see what I might be missing out on — as it happens, they were a nice addition, but I’m not sure I would have missed them if I chose to forgo the DLC.

The characters are memorable and adorable. For all the game’s flaws, the thing that kept me coming back over and over again until the very end was the cast. While most of them are recognisable anime archetypes, the self-aware nature of much of the game’s humour means that they’re not above calling each other out when they’re behaving in a particularly stereotypical fashion. The central cast of the ditzy, airheaded Neptune, the pink and fluffy cries-at-the-slightest-provocation girly-girl Compa and the rational, sensible but somewhat tsundere IF complement each other perfectly, and poor old IF, as the “straight man” (well, woman) of the ensemble usually ends up having to deal with the aftermath of all the other characters’ idiosyncracies. She’s by far the most sympathetic character by the end of the game, but there’s something eminently likeable about all the rest of them, too.

So there you go. A list of facts about Hyperdimension Neptunia. Don’t go into it thinking it’s going to be the best thing ever because you will almost inevitably be disappointed. If you have a lot of patience for what is essentially a combination of an old-school, combat-heavy JRPG and a visual novel, however, there’s a highly enjoyable experience with some very memorable characters and some endearingly self-referential humour to be had here. If that sounds like your sort of thing, give it a shot.

I’ll be starting the sequel tomorrow, and I understand that’s a superior experience. I’ll be interested to see quite how different it is.

1097: Five Reasons Kotaku Made Yakuza Fans Angry Today

Page_1Fan of Sega’s long-running modern-day JRPG series Yakuza? Then you may want to give Kotaku a wide berth today, as they published an article (FreezePage link so as not to direct traffic to the piece in question; petty, I know, but I know a few people who won’t click Kotaku links on principle) which has incited the ire of an angry mob of Yakuza fans. And since Yakuza is a fairly niche game with a dedicated core of fans keen to see Sega continue to bring it to the West, they’re pretty passionate about the series that they love.

The main issue with the article is that it is clearly written by someone who has very little knowledge of the Yakuza series at all — the author even states this up-front, noting that prior to taking Yakuza 5 for a spin they had played nothing more than the demos of Yakuza 3, 4 and Dead Souls and hadn’t felt inspired to purchase or try the full games. Leaving aside the fact that he was coming in at the fifth installment to a series that is very strict about its chronology — each subsequent game follows on directly from the previous one — the bigger question is why on Earth this writer was picked to write an “Import Preview” for this game when his familiarity with the series is questionable by his own admission?

Of course, there is merit in judging the accessibility of a long-running series to newcomers, but just as certain series of books, movies and TV shows expect you to start from the very beginning and work your way along, so too are there series of games that demand the same of their audience. Yakuza is one of these, though it does give a cursory nod to newcomers in each game by allowing them a sequence where the protagonist “reminisces” about the events of the previous installment. These are primarily intended for series veterans who have endured a significant wait between games, however, and are designed to remind them of the key events rather than the actual experience of playing through a Yakuza game. They are not really designed to tell the entire story of a whole game in 30 minutes of cutscenes. You want to know what happened in, say, Yakuza 2? Go play it — it’s still out there and (relatively) readily available.

I won’t go through and address all of Eisenbeis’ five points in the article one at a time as that just seems somewhat petty, but it’s abundantly clear from the things he says that he is unfamiliar with the series and its conventions, and has also not spent a significant amount of time with it to discover its hidden depths. Pleasingly, the comments from Yakuza fans beneath the article have mostly been relatively respectful (if incredulous) and systematically point out how most of his arguments are flawed or, in some cases, completely incorrect.

I will address one point specifically, however, and that is the matter of “unskippable conversations”. This is a particular bugbear for me. Yakuza is notorious for being a story-heavy, character-focused game in which the moments when you’re kicking back in a hostess club attempting to woo your lady of the hour are just as important as the times when you’re punching goons in the face and smashing traffic cones over their heads. If anything, they’re more important, as they’re where the characters get to demonstrate their hidden depths — far from being generic, silent protagonists, the playable characters in the Yakuza series are all very complex people with interesting motivations and outlooks on life. More interestingly, they’re all grown-ups.

Brief aside: a friend and I were discussing this recently, and we thought it would be very interesting if there was a Japanese-style role-playing game that instead of featuring your usual band of Plucky, Idealistic Teens Who Are Always Right getting to save the world from Some Great Evil, put the spotlight on a group of older, more jaded and cynical adults who maybe had more complex motives for embarking on whatever the game’s “quest” happened to be. The Yakuza series provides just that sort of experience, with characters who age and evolve as the series progresses, giving the complete franchise a truly remarkable feeling of coherence and changing with the times. At the same time, however, certain things remain constant — Kazuma will always care for his adoptive sort-of-“daughter” Haruka; Kamuro-cho will always be by turns beautiful and terrifying; Majima’s sanity will always be somewhat questionable.

Anyway, my point with all that was that the very essence of Yakuza is in the story, so why would you skip it? I’ll allow you the answer “because I died on a boss fight and I’ve already seen this bit”, but anything beyond that — such as the reason Eisenbeis gives in his article — is very much missing the point. “I started to dread playing through the plot, knowing that the game’s pace would be about to grind to a halt,” he writes. Good grief, man. The point is the plot. If you were hoping for a brawler or character action game — or even a Grand Theft Auto-alike — there are plenty of other titles that will better fit your needs.

One thing I will say at this point is that I’m not attempting to convert anyone to the Yakuza fold who isn’t already there. As has probably been made clear by the fact I’m writing this at all, you’re either “in” or you aren’t, and getting “in” these days involves playing four (possibly five if you count Dead Souls) games of between 10-40+ hours that straddle the generation gap between PS2 and PS3. From the second game onwards, you also have to be able to deal with the fact that there’s no English dub, either — it’s all subtitled with Japanese speech (and is an infinitely better experience as a result, I might add). It’s a worthwhile experience, but equally it’s one I’d understand people forgoing as the perceived barrier of entry gets higher.

Consequently, I’m not denying that some of the criticisms Eisenbeis makes of Yakuza in his article are valid; many of them are, and yes, they’re offputting to series newcomers. However, this article really didn’t need to be written, and in the worst-case scenario, it may have done some damage to the already-tenuous chances of Sega bringing this latest installment to the West. The piece’s content essentially boils down to “Guy Who Doesn’t Like Yakuza Doesn’t Like Latest Yakuza“, which is a matter for a personal blog, not for one of the world’s most heavily-trafficked video games websites. Fans of the Yakuza series who see the “Import Preview” header would likely have been hoping for some insights on the ways in which the new game has evolved its systems and what has happened to the characters in the intervening time since Yakuza 4 and Dead Souls; instead, what they get is a poorly-researched opinion piece that does nothing but frustrate the people who are most likely to read it.

I’m sorry that Eisenbeis didn’t enjoy his time with Yakuza 5, but it’s his prerogative to dislike it if he pleases. He should clearly not, however, have been given the opportunity to write about it in the way that he did, as it does a great disservice to both the game and its fans who were hoping for some genuine new information. I hope that Kotaku will think much more carefully about who they assign preview articles to in the future, but I won’t hold my breath.

1096: Colourspace

Page_1I wrote a thing about veteran independent game developer Jeff Minter the other day for Games Are Evil — you should go read it, then go buy all the iOS games I listed in that article, as they’re all fab.

For me, though, some of Jeff Minter’s most memorable creations weren’t games at all — they were what he called “light synthesisers”. The first of these was Psychedelia for the 8-bit computers of the time, superceded the following year by Colourspace, which is where I first became aware of… whatever lightsynths actually are.

Essentially, a lightsynth — as it existed back then, anyway — is a piece of software that allows you to play with colours and shapes as you see fit. In the case of the Atari 8-bit version of Colourspace, which is where I first encountered it, you used the joystick to move a cursor around the screen, then held the fire button and moved around to make shapes, colours and swirly patterns. The exact behaviour of the program could be tweaked in various ways, too, allowing for colour-cycling, variable pixel sizes — something the Atari was good at due to a nifty little feature called Display List Interrupts — and for the colours and shapes to flow over or under static on-screen graphics such as logos. Minter notes on his website that for a long time, this was his “performance lightsynth” of choice, and he often showed it off as a means of demonstrating both what he and the hardware of the time were capable of. (He also claims he sold a copy to Paul Daniels and was subsequently rude to him when he phoned up for technical support.)

The 16-bit era saw a new version of Colourspace released for the Atari ST. The shift to a platform that is much closer to what we understand as being a “PC” today meant that Minter could take advantage of things like mouse control for more fluid movement of the shapes, colours and patterns, and the relatively large amount of memory in the ST (512K or a whopping 1MB!) meant that performers could load a selection of images and switch between them at will to help supplement their dancing swirly patterns. Minter himself performed using Colourspace for the ST on a number of occasions, including hiring out the London Planetarium for a laser-and-Colourspace extravaganza to celebrate the new version’s launch.

Following Colourspace came Trip-A-Tron, an evolution of the formula that still allowed for simple real-time swirly patterns, but also featured its own scripting language allowing clever people (cleverer than I was at that tender age) to remotely control other computers running Trip-A-Tron via the MIDI port, triggering various animations, rendering scenes in 2D and 3D and all manner of other exciting things. I never really got deep into Trip-A-Tron because the thickness of the manual was somewhat disconcerting for a youngster like I was then — Minter notes it took him longer to write that manual than it did to write some of his earlier lightsynths!

One thing that does stick in my mind from Trip-A-Tron, however, is a peculiar artistic project Minter undertook with a musician named Adrian Wagner known as Merak. Merak was a wordless, abstract story about the adventures of an android in space, and it was a spectacular combination of psychedelic visuals and memorable music that I can still remember today. Disappointingly, there don’t appear to be any clips from Merak anywhere on YouTube, but Wagner did rerelease the video on DVD more recently — I’m quite tempted to pick up a copy, but worried that my memories of this remarkable work won’t match up to the reality.

The really interesting thing about this whole “lightsynth” concept of Minter’s is that it was one of the first real examples of computers being used for pure creativity and self-expression. It was entirely what you made of it, and it was fuel for the imagination. I remember vividly spending hours at a time playing with the Atari ST version of Colourspace, which allowed you to render starfields and came with a preset background that looked like the bridge of a spaceship. I’d imagine a grand space opera, rendering the abstract shapes and spectacular light shows of this vessel flying into combat, putting up a brave fight and being eventually destroyed. I’d swirl the mouse around to create abstract shapes and trails, adjust the colour-cycling patterns to change the atmosphere and eventually fill the screen with an explosion of colourful particles as the ship, in my mind, blew to pieces.

Minter’s latest lightsynth is known as Neon, and a version of it comes built in to every Xbox 360 console as the music visualiser. The sad thing is that the frustrations Minter expressed in the article I linked to above mean that it’s unlikely we’ll see a new lightsynth from this eccentric genius any time soon. His tweets on the subject pretty much speak for themselves.

The end of an era, to be sure. Unless anyone’s up for crowdfunding a new Colourspace?

1095: Czerny’s School of Repetitive Strain Injury

Page_1I did some actual honest-to-goodness piano practice today. It’s been some time since I practiced “properly” and I’ll admit that it wasn’t for a particularly long session today — I had work to do — but it’s a start at least.

I started learning the piano when I was about five years old and have been playing ever since. Since leaving university — and particularly since leaving the teaching profession — it’s fallen a little by the wayside, though, for various reasons. You never really “lose it” if you’ve been doing it for as long as I have, though — sometimes it just takes a little concerted effort to get yourself back to where you were before.

Why did I let it slide? Difficult to say, really. Poor self-discipline, mostly, but I also attribute it at least partly to feelings of anxiety and depression. If I get depressed, there’s really very little that I find myself actively wanting to do. Many is the time where I’ve spent hours at a time literally just staring at a wall feeling sorry for myself, even though I know how stupid that is, and that I’d probably feel better if I actually did something. As those who have suffered feelings like this will know, though, it’s not always that easy to get up and do something.

Music is a good outlet for such feelings, however, because by its very nature it is able to express a wide variety of complex concepts and emotions without the necessity for any words whatsoever. People more talented at improvisation than I am can just sit down at a keyboard and make something up to reflect the way they’re feeling — as a classically trained pianist first and foremost, however, I find this somewhat difficult and thus tend to rely mostly on music that has been composed for me.

This isn’t a lesser form of expression by any means — it may be slightly less creative, but you can certainly channel those emotions into a piece of music composed by someone else and put your own interpretation on it very easily. Particularly if the piece of music in question is from an era of music where the composers made a point of writing pieces that were particularly expressive and/or open to interpretation. It’s for this reason I’ve always gravitated more towards the Romantic and early 20th century periods than anything else — Baroque music still leaves me cold with its much stronger focus on technical expertise rather than expression, though some Classical period works for me.

Rather than jumping in to something I can’t quite play today, though, I decided to get out the books of technical exercises I got a while back but have underexplored somewhat. I can still run through all the scales back to back (though my accuracy when playing at speed needs some work) but sometimes (all right, most of the time) it’s nice to practice your skills with something that sounds a bit more like an actual piece of music.

I have a few books of technical exercises from composers with difficult to spell and pronounce names like Dohnanyi, Pischna and Czerny — it was the latter’s “Art of Finger Dexterity” books I went for today, starting from the first exercise in the first book. Its position at the front of the book doesn’t mean it’s a particularly “easy” one, mind; it involves rattling up and down scales at high speed in one hand while playing block chords with the other, then later shifting to parallel and contrary motion perpetually-moving semiquaver passages. It is exhausting, but oddly satisfying to play, particularly when you actually get it right. I was expecting my finger dexterity to be much worse than it was having had so much time off from a concerted effort to practice, but I was pleasantly surprised to find myself whipping up and down these passages without too much difficulty. Which is nice.

One of the things I’ve felt over the years with the piano is “I’ll never be able to play that” — either because it looks technically demanding, or it’s fast, or it’s in a difficult key, or whatever. With some persistent, consistent and regular exercise, though, I have faith I’ll be able to build my skills up somewhat and perhaps tackle some more adventurous pieces than I have done in the past.

Eventually, anyway. In the meantime, I shall continue to enjoy playing Final Fantasy and Persona themes for fun!

1094: Today: The Walkthrough

Page_1January 16

This is quite an easy day to get through — all you have to do is make sure you get all the tasks done by the end of the day and you’re good to go. As always, save your game as the day begins in case you make a mistake, and use any free time you have to go secret-hunting. See the SECRETS section for more details.

Morning

You have three main objectives in the morning: wake up, have breakfast and complete your work. All can be easily achieved quite quickly if you focus on the task at hand and save item-hunting for later.

You’ll start the day with “tired” status, which makes it more difficult than usual to wake up. After the cutscene where Andie leaves for work, repeatedly tap the Triangle button to force yourself out of bed. Don’t worry if you fail, though — it’s actually pretty challenging to succeed in this. You can try again, but you’ll take a hit to your HP each time you do so, so you might find it easier to just fall asleep again and wake up once the “tired” status has evaporated — there’s no real benefit to the early start beyond having more time available.

Once you’re up, walk to the bathroom and press X to start the morning routine. Skip the animation if you want — you’ve probably seen it plenty of times by now. Once you re-emerge, walk to the kitchen and press X in front of the bread bin to examine it. Pick up the BREAD and make sure you examine it in your inventory rather than just eating it — it’s mouldy, so use it on the bin unless you want to find yourself with a rather inconvenient toilet-focused status effect lasting the rest of the day.

Pick up the BREADSTICK instead, then open the fridge and pick up the EGGS. Open the drawer next to the fridge and take the SMALL PAN. Use the pan on the cooker, then use the cooker again to turn it on. You can stand and wait — there’s some amusing comments if you keep examining it — but it’s a better use of your time to walk over to the other side of the room and use the coffee machine. Pick a CAPSULE according to how much EP you have — if you’ve been following this walkthrough exactly so far, a green one will probably suffice. Use the capsule on the machine, then open the cupboard across the room from the machine to take a CUP. Use the cup on the machine, then use the machine. Voila! One coffee. Drink it immediately — coffee provides a nice boost to EP, but isn’t nearly as effective if you allow it to cool.

By now the pan should be starting to boil, so use the eggs on the pan, then use your phone in your inventory to automatically set the timer. You have four minutes in which to wander around the house and its environs before the eggs are ready. A good use of your time is to empty the bin — walk up to the bin and use it to take the BINBAG out, then use the bag to pick it up. You won’t be able to open your menu or access your inventory while carrying the bag, though you can put it down if you need to.

Open the front door while carrying the bag, run down the stairs and out of the front door. Use the binbag on the green bin, NOT the blue one, then run back into the building, up the stairs and back into your flat. You should be back just in time for the timer to expire and your eggs to be ready — use the cooker to automatically take them out and prepare them; use the breadstick on the resulting plate to finish preparing your meal; use the finished meal to trigger a cutscene.

When you regain control, you’ll be in the study in front of the computer. Three battles will ensue as you attempt to get your work done, but you can pause to regain lost HP/EP between each one.

Battle 1: Blitz (HP 50,000)

This is an easy one. Kick off with a Comparison, follow it up with Context, Quip and finally Verdict.

Battle 2: Cross (HP 60,000)

This one’s a little tougher. Kick off with a Comparison again, but use your phone in the second round for additional damage. Follow with Praise, Quip, Question and finally Verdict.

Battle 3: Snapper (HP 70,000)

Despite the higher HP, this is the easiest one of all. Quip, Question and Verdict is all you need to do here.

Afternoon

The main objective in the afternoon is to pick up the missing package, but it’ll help you out to pick up some supplies at the same time. Fortunately, we can do both things in one expedition.

Pick up the CARD from the desk in the study. Then go to the living room and open the drawer to pick up the DRIVING LICENSE. It’s very important you get both of these items!

Pick up your COAT and equip it — it’ll be on the back of the chair as usual. Pick up your SHOES and equip them — they’ll be in the hallway. Then open the front door and use your keys on it to lock it. You don’t have to do this — burglaries are triggered by random chance, so you won’t always suffer one if you don’t lock the door — but it’s best to be safe.

Run down the stairs and out of the building’s front door. There’s no need to use your keys on the building’s main door — this one doesn’t affect the odds of burglary.

Now we have a fair old trek ahead of us. You can trigger a time challenge now if you want to — the rewards are pretty worthwhile, so we might as well do so. Run around the back of the building to the  car park and look behind your car — you should see the icon there. Use it to start the clock.

Head out of the car park and on to the main road. Keep an eye out for cars and cross if it looks clear, but remember they don’t stop for you! If you’re worried about safety, you can use the crossing, but you’ll find attaining the best rank on the time challenge difficult if you do so.

Follow the road west for quite some time. When you come to some more traffic lights, turn right and start heading north-west. You’ll see there’s a shop here, but we’re not going to use that just yet — priorities!

Continue north-west up the road, and cross the road when you come to McDonald’s — it’s not a true crossing, but the small island in the middle of the road means you can keep safe if the traffic gets heavy. Continue north-west on this side of the road, taking care to avoid the hoodie-wearing enemies. They won’t bother you if you don’t bump into them, so keep a wide berth as much as possible.

Don’t worry about finding the post office — you’ll get a cutscene when you reach it. When you regain control at the counter, use the card then use your driving license to identify yourself. Pick up the package but don’t open it yet.

If you were quick enough, an S-rank on the time challenge should be yours. Enjoy the reward in the gallery.

Now retrace your steps south-east back to the shop we saw earlier. Purchase some BREAD and some items of your choice to restore the HP and EP you’ve used up today. Then continue back east to return home. Run into the building, up the stairs and use your keys on your door to enter. Use any of the food items you bought in the kitchen if you need to.

Open the package when you’re ready to trigger a cutscene. Oh my!

Evening

There’s not much you need to do in the evening, so spend some time restoring your HP by playing with the rats in the living room. When Andie returns, you’ll get a cutscene; after it finishes, talk to her again, then go to the kitchen, pick up the JUICE, open the fridge, pick up the WATER and use them both on a GLASS from the cupboard. Pick up the resultant DRINK and take it to Andie for a reward.

When you’re ready to start the final events of the day, go to the study and use the computer. A battle will ensue as usual.

Battle: Inspiration (HP 109,400)

Whew, these battles are starting to get pretty tough now, huh? Charge up a bit by using Focus three times, then Ponder. This should give you the Inspired buff, which is when you should trigger your Tortured Metaphor ability. While this is active, simply repeatedly attack Inspiration and it’ll all be over before you know it.

1093: ‘Problematic’ is This Year’s ‘Entitled’

Page_1Remember last year when everyone was busily calling each other “entitled” for complaining about stuff like the Mass Effect 3 ending and Capcom’s absurd DLC-on-disc policies? Ah, good times. They were fun, weren’t they? Particularly when members of the press who should really know better starting insulting their audience. But let’s leave that aside for now, because now it’s 2013, and we have bigger fish to fry.

Now, you see, the fashionable thing to do is to declare something “problematic”. I can’t quite work out what irks me so about this word — in all likelihood it’s simply its overuse — but it really does bug me.

The declaration of something as “problematic” usually ties in with the growing trend of guilt-ridden white straight cis men to want to champion the poor downtrodden parts of society — the women, the transsexuals, the homosexuals, the people of non-white ethnic backgrounds — and show themselves to be enlightened enough to stand up to the privileged of the world. Trouble is, a white straight cis man standing up for these groups only helps to reinforce that perceived “weakness” in many ways — and in worst-case scenarios, it starts to look a bit like bandwagon-jumping.

Such is the case with many of these things that have been declared “problematic” in recent months. A while back we had that beyond-stupid Hitman: Absolution trailer, more recently we had CD Projekt Red’s actually quite excellent Cyberpunk 2077 trailer, and today we had the announcement of Dead Island Riptide’s ridiculous “Zombie Bait” special edition. Leaving aside Cyberpunk 2077 for a moment, which is something of a different issue, both Hitman: Absolution and Dead Island Riptide are obviously incredibly stupid marketing ploys designed for shock value, little more. I find it honestly hard to believe that either Square Enix or Deep Silver genuinely want to condone violence against women or misogyny in general, but that is what they’re being accused of with these “problematic” marketing materials — in the case of Dead Island, within minutes of the images hitting the Interwebs.

The thing is, all the shouting about how “problematic” these things are actually just plays right into the marketers’ hands. For every table-thumping opinion piece that decries these things as the most awful thing ever dreamed up by a game’s marketing team, there will be at least a few readers who will think “well hang on, actually I’m quite interested in that now,” whether or not they actually admit to it in public. The amount of “OMG THIS IS AWFUL” stuff floating around about Dead Island Riptide’s bloody torso is only really serving to make people more aware of the game’s striking, gross (and Europe/Australia-exclusive) special edition; the hoo-hah over the Hitman: Absolution trailer likely helped raise awareness of the game in the run-up to its release to a considerable degree, and it had been all but forgotten by most people by the time the game actually came out.

In short, they’re stupid and in poor taste, but all they are are marketing ploys, little more. And they’re doing their job admirably — both games now have considerably higher visibility than they once had. As they say, all publicity is good publicity. If you really want to punish them, don’t provide them with any coverage whatsoever.

The Cyberpunk 2077 trailer is a little more complex to discuss. Taken out of context, it could be seen as a representation of brutality against a sex worker — until it pans out and she reveals her MASSIVE FUCKING ROBOT SCYTHE BLADES, that is — but taken in the context of the original Cyberpunk 2077 source material from the ’80s, it is, to my knowledge anyway, entirely in keeping with the aesthetic and atmosphere of that which it is based on. I observed some lengthy discussions about this on both Facebook and Google+ recently, and now that I know the context, it’s clear that this trailer is entirely appropriate for the setting. One may argue that the use of a scantily-clad woman is somewhat unnecessary, and you might be right about that, but that doesn’t mean that this is suddenly a huge violence against women issue. It’s a stylistic choice; little more — a subversion of audience expectations. “A woman being abused by the police… oh wait, no, she’s actually some sort of hideous mechanical monster with very little humanity remaining.” (Spoilers.)

You could also argue that the requirement to be familiar with the source material before being able to recognise the trailer for what it is is something of a failing of the marketing, but then Cyberpunk 2077 was always likely to appeal to a very specific, niche audience — those who remembered the original tabletop RPG — anyway, so is there really anything wrong in catering to that specific, niche audience rather than attempting to make something bland, unremarkable and mainstream?

My point, essentially, is that by shouting and screaming about how “problematic” these things are, you’re fuelling the fire. You’re helping the things that you hate. You’re making people aware of them, and not in the way you probably intend. It’s a catch-22, really. If you say nothing, you might feel as if you’re tacitly condoning things that you don’t agree with; if you say something, you actually end up bringing it to a much wider audience, many of whom may become defensive when confronted with your viewpoints that counter their feelings.

The key thing, I think, is moderation. The trouble with the number of things that have been declared “problematic” recently is that it’s losing its impact. We’re apparently supposed to find so much stuff “offensive” these days that it’s getting difficult to keep track — and who are the people who get to say what is and isn’t offensive, anyway? Following the release of the Dead Island Riptide pictures today, for example, I saw a variety of comments from female gamers (as in, gamers who just happen to be female, not girls who make a big deal out of the fact they play games or specifically identify as “girl gamers”) along the lines that it really didn’t bother them and that they just found this sort of thing rather childish and amusing.

That, to me, is a more healthy attitude to take. All of the outrage I’ve seen today has been from men — always the same men, too, so much so that any time something like this comes up it’s incredibly predictable who will be the first to jump on their virtual soapbox. It’s easy to play the “champion of feminism” from behind a computer keyboard, but I have to question how many of these self-appointed arbiters of taste and decency have actually done anything beyond pen an angry blog post (yes, just like this one, I know) to help make life better for these groups they’re supposedly standing up for.

Dead Island’s bloody tits are a horrid thing you probably wouldn’t want on your mantlepiece. Hitman: Absolution‘s nuns trailer was an exercise in how ridiculous a trailer they could get away with. I’m not defending either of them, because they’re both shit, let’s not beat around the bush. But I really don’t believe they’re symptomatic of anything more than marketing departments that are highly adept at taking advantage of “shock value”. And attempting to make these into anything more than that will achieve little more than starting arguments that have little value to the real concerns, which are a much more complex set of sociological issues.

I like women and have never, ever thought of a woman as someone “inferior” to me. The thought of perpetrating violence against a woman in reality is, to me, abhorrent, but then the thought of perpetrating violence against a man is also, to me, abhorrent. But then I liked the Cyberpunk 2077 trailer, too. Does that make me an awful, hideous misogynist?

No, of course it doesn’t. But what do I know? I like Hyperdimension Neptunia.

1092: Modest-Breasted Heroine

Page_1The title of this post is taken from a trophy I attained in Hyperdimension Neptunia today celebrating my acquisition of the character “Nisa”, an embodiment of the game’s Western publisher NIS America. (“Nisa”, geddit?) Nisa wears a Bayonetta-style super-revealing leather catsuit unzipped to beneath her bellybutton, but is constantly ridiculed for having small breasts. She doesn’t seem to mind too much, to be fair, even when surrounded by the heaving bosoms of squeaky-voiced Compa and Neptune in her, I quote, “magical boob girl” form.

Hyperdimension Neptunia revels in the sort of innuendo and playful, childish humour prevalent in a lot of anime, particularly of the moe variety. In many ways, it’s quite refreshing to play a game that doesn’t really hold back on the boob-related humour, but it’s also easy to see how some might take issue with the game and its all-female cast’s shenanigans. Having played it for more hours than I’d care to count (the game doesn’t include the usual timer seen in most other RPGs) I can say with a fair degree of confidence that the game certainly doesn’t mean any harm by all this — it’s being bawdy and lewd for the sake of getting a few cheap giggles out of the player (regardless of gender) rather than explicitly “sexy”, a few fanservicey “event” pictures and costumes aside.

More importantly, though, said bawdy humour is but a small part of the game as a whole. After a while it just becomes the way things are in that world; part of the aesthetic. The characters all do plenty more than comment on the size of each others’ jumblies; they’re all actually rather well-realised, if a little reliant on rather conventional anime tropes. (I swear this game has more tsunderes per square foot than anything else I’ve ever played… b-but it’s not like I’m complaining or anything!) That said, the game often lampshades said anime tropes with the characters calling each other on when they’re falling into particular stereotypes, and there are several who have occasional surprises up their sleeves.

IF/Iffy/I-chan is a case in point. Initially appearing to be your stereotypical sour-faced textbook tsundere, Iffy quickly reveals herself to be quite an interesting character on the whole, particularly if you pursue the story arcs of the two DLC characters 5pb and Red. In the case of 5pb, we see Iffy acting as a confidante and counsellor to the chronically-shy idol, who is immensely insecure in herself when not hosting her radio show or performing her songs for fans. In the case of Red, we see Iffy humouring a childish girl’s fantasies and showing a softer side to her sometimes gruff-seeming exterior. It would be easy for Iffy to tell Red and her “Wifey number 1!” babblings to take a hike, but instead she plays along, even going so far as to award her “charisma points” any time she does something good.

The “goddess” characters are something of an enigma at this point in the story, but it’s quite amusing that the grumpiest of all the tsunderes in the whole game is the one supposed to be representing the Nintendo Wii, the happiest and most sunshiney of all consoles. The land of “Lowee” is a fantasy kingdom filled with houses that look like cakes, rainbows, mushrooms and bizarre, surreal happenings, but its ruler is a sour-faced, foul-mouthed young girl who would much rather lock herself in her room and read a book rather than have to deal with any of the events that are transpiring in the world. The PlayStation-themed goddess, meanwhile, is rather Gothic Lolita in her stylings (and very tsundere when in her “CPU” form) while the Xbox goddess is a sleepyhead blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl (anime shorthand for “foreigner”) who is addicted to online games.

It’s been a pleasure to discover the various layers this game has as I’ve progressed through it. The dungeon crawling is still very straightforward and unlikely to change significantly for the rest of the game, but the moves the characters are unlocking are becoming increasingly ridiculous, the time-attack dungeons are fun to challenge and the growing party means that I can start to take advantage of interesting mechanics such as the ability to switch party members in mid-combo.

The pacing is such that you never spend too long battling through endless random combats, either; each dungeon is short (if you know what you’re doing and skip the excess of the attack animations you can clear each one in 3-5 minutes tops) and you’re often rewarded for making progress with additional entertaining scenes between the girls. And as the game’s narrative has continued, these characters have started to show that they have been crafted with what seems like genuine affection from their creators. There’s a good sense of them being friends with one another, though the various “optional” characters don’t put in nearly enough appearances in the story scenes. I guess that’s understandable, though. The “core” of the game is the way the three contrasting characters of Nep-Nep, Compa and IF behave around one another; the others are relatively incidental characters whom you just happen to be able to take into batle.

I’m a little under 50% done with the game according to the menus, and I have no intention of stopping until I’ve finished it. Whether I tackle any of the free DLC dungeons (many of which have obscenely high “recommended levels”) remains to be seen, but I certainly intend to see as much of the core game as possible. And then move on to the sequel.

So yes. I laugh in the face of Hyperdimension Neptunia’s sub-50 Metacritic score. I’m having a blast, and you can’t stop me! MWAHAHAHA!

1091: You’ve Got… You Know

Page_1Speaking as someone who grew up with the early days of popular online activity (BBSes, CompuServe and finally the “proper Internet”) I find it mildly interesting (or at least worthy of a late-night blog post, which isn’t necessarily the same thing) how much the role of email has changed over the course of the last 15-20 years or so. I am prompted into these thoughts by a casual glimpse at my own inbox, which currently contains a devilish 666 messages, none of which visible on the front page are, to my knowledge, written directly to me by an actual human being.

This is something of a change from the earlier days, when clicking “Send/Receive Mail” in Outlook Express was an exciting moment, and you knew if the progress bar came up you had email incoming. Who would it be from? Would it be from someone interesting? What would they have to say? Would there be an attachment? In just a minute or two (LOL DIALUP) you would find out, and then you’d lovingly file the email into an appropriate folder to keep for all eternity. (I say “you” again when, of course, what I actually mean is “I”. I don’t know if everyone else was quite so fastidious with their email organisation when they first got online, but I certainly ran a tight ship… for a while, anyway.)

Looking at my inbox today, though, it’s clear that email has a very different purpose today to what it once had. Whereas once it was effectively one of the only forms of social media (the others being forums and live chat rooms) it is now a general repository for crap. You’ll occasionally get a meaningful message in there from someone who actually has a brain and a soul, but more often than not, if my inbox as of right now is anything to go by, it’ll be a string of automated messages notifying you that so-and-so has added a new track to a playlist in Spotify (unsubscribe!), so-and-so has commented on something you don’t give a fuck about on Facebook (unsubscribe!) or that that website you signed up for just so you could download a .zip file containing some porn/games that you wanted wants to wish you a happy birthday.

A relatively recent addition to the types of email you get nowadays is the guilt-trip “PLEASE COME BACK!” email. This happens with everything from mobile apps to online games, but the execution is always the same. “Here’s all the great stuff you’re missing out on!” it’ll say, usually worded in such a way as to make you think that you’re somehow doing something wrong by not using a service you currently have no need for. Often there will be some sort of bribe involved in getting you back, particularly when it comes to online games of various descriptions.

A Facebook game I reviewed a while back known as Outernauts was particularly bad for this. Outernauts was highly-anticipated by a lot of people because it was from a high-profile studio (Insomniac, for those in the know) and was aiming to be a social game that appealed to the sort of people who typically only played standalone, “pay once, keep forever” games on computer and console. It wasn’t awful, but the overzealous means through which it was monetised — the ever-obnoxious “energy” mechanic — prevented anyone from being able to enjoy it for more than a few minutes at a time. Consequently, after an initial surge of interest, the very players it was trying to attract dropped it. Some months after I reviewed it and criticised it for its aggressive monetisation, it “relaunched”, apparently with “fast recharging energy”. It was still a pain in the arse to play. Some months after that, it relaunched again, this time promising “near limitless energy”. Note: “near limitless”, not “limitless”.

I’m getting off the point slightly, but the fact is, every time Outernauts decided to do something a little different, it sent a begging email to me pleading for me to take it back, because it can change, it won’t annoy me any more, it won’t do that thing that annoys me any more. It was too little, too late, though; my experiences with Outernauts while reviewing it left such a sour taste in the mouth that I had (and still have) no desire to return, “near limitless energy” or not. That probably won’t stop them sending me another email the next time they change something, though. Unless I blocked them. I might have blocked them.

Another offender in this sort of thing is a service called Earndit which I evidently signed up for at some point in the past. (I think I mistakenly signed up for it while looking for Fitocracy while the latter was still in closed testing; the two are different services but do have a few things in common.) Earndit sends me an email every week with sickly-sweet, overly-apologetic language about how I haven’t earned any points this week, and that if they have it wrong I should get in touch with them PLEASE LOVE ME etc. It’s annoying.

The response to all this annoying email is, of course, to unsubscribe from the mailing lists I’ve found myself on, send these messages to the spam folder or just to stop using my actual email address to sign up for things. But it’s a pain to keep on top of. You can be as careful as you like to tick/untick the boxes that give websites permission to spam you with crap, but some will still get through, and over time there’ll be so much incoming stuff that it’s almost impossible to keep on top of your “unsubscribe” needs. The knock-on effect of all this is, of course, that genuine messages from real people can easily drift by completely unnoticed. If this has happened to you, it is nothing personal; you can blame Zynga, EA, Facebook, Twitter, Spotify, Google and indeed any of the million-and-one completely unnecessary social networking apps for mobile devices that I’ve reviewed over the course of the last year.

I miss the old days; the days when being notified you had a new message was exciting. Checking your email used to be a pleasure; now it’s a chore.

1090: Housewarming

Page_1Tonight Andie and I are hosting a housewarming party. We attempted to do this in the last house we moved into, but failed miserably at getting people to come, making it a rather quiet affair. (We did have some people, just nowhere near what we were hoping for!)

(Aside: If you are a friend of mine and in the Southampton area and were inexplicably left off the invites list on teh Facebookz, it was not intentional and you are welcome to come and join us — just drop me a text or a message via various forms of social media and let me know you’re coming.)

Anyway, yes. We are throwing a party. Now there’s a word that changes its meaning as you get older and, theoretically, wiser.

When you’re a kid, a “party” is a big deal, because it’s something well out of the ordinary and, usually, a celebration of an important event — typically a birthday. I remember going to a number of birthday parties for various kids in the village where I grew up, and it was always fun doing things like playing Pass The Parcel and that stupid game where you had to put on a scarf, hat, coat and gloves and then eat a bar of chocolate with a knife and fork. You know, that one. No? Just me? Damn rural upbringing.

Then you get to be a teenager, and a “party” is typically an illicit sort of affair where you take over the house and invite too many people around while your parents are away. I attended a few of these and threw one of my own that I got into a lot of trouble for and still feel somewhat guilty about to date. (It was an awesome party, though, to be fair.) The key thing here was the illicit nature of it, though — it was an occasion for teenagers to do things they weren’t supposed to do, like drink, smoke and… err, anything else that teenagers who weren’t me probably did. (I had a somewhat sheltered life.)

Then you get to university, and “parties” become acceptable again, though they tend not to be tied to a particular occasion. “[Insert name of person you barely know] is having a party tonight,” your housemate will say. “Want to go?” The correct response is, of course, “yes,” because undoubtedly there will be a ton of drink, possibly stuff to eat and, in the eyes of a horny late-teens-early-twenties person, the potential to get laid that inevitably never comes to anything. (Not that I’m complaining; I was never really the one-night stand type.) The thing with parties of this nature, though, is that they tend to have no real purpose — they’re purely social occasions designed to get people together, not a celebration of anything. They’re barely even a celebration of friendship, because inevitably there’ll be a bunch of people there who no-one seems to know, who will have showed up as a sort of “friend of a friend” arrangement.

There are exceptions to the above, of course — after-show parties from Theatre Group productions at university were always entertaining. I will never forget the one which coined the phrase “The Chair of Eternal Disappointment” and subsequently went on until well after sunrise, moving on from the original house party to a dirty, horrible beach on the banks of the river that we somehow found our way to. On said beach, we engaged in improvisatory theatre and then our friend Tom got his knob out before eating some dirty seaweed and commenting it “tasted of oil and poo”.

Then you leave university and enter the adult world, and parties tend to take on that air of vague respectability once again. Rather than being aimless, meaningless social occasions, they tend to revolve around a special event, much as they did in childhood. In our case, we’re celebrating our housewarming, but they’re also often thrown in celebration of the new year or someone’s birthday. In many ways, an adult party (not THAT kind of “adult party”) is a lot closer to the joyful exuberance of a child’s party than anything else, albeit with everyone usually behaving in a slightly more respectable manner than your average child.

The exception to the “special event” classification of adult (NO) parties is, of course, the “dinner party”, which isn’t really a “party” as such in that you’re not really celebrating anything. No, rather you’re just having people around for dinner, presumably in an attempt to show off your cooking skills and talk in a respectable, grown-up way around the dinner table before retiring to the living room to, I don’t know, listen to jazz or something. I’m not quite sure at what age you start having “dinner parties” but it doesn’t feel quite like something that’s “right” just yet. Do people even have “dinner parties” any more? The very concept of “dinner parties” feels like something from an Alan Ayckbourn play.

Anyway, there’s no real point to this post, I’m aware, I just wanted to write something before everyone arrived and starts eating the copious amounts of party food we have laid on for them. As I say, if you’re in the Southampton area, are free tonight and missed out on an invite (probably because I assumed you were no longer in the area) then feel free to show up and say hello — contact me for the address.

Now I’m off to gaze longingly at the bajillion cupcakes Andie’s made.

1089: Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong

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(Buffy’s Swearing Keyboard. You’re welcome. NSFW, obviously.)

Andie and I bought a doorbell the other day. This is not something I have ever had to purchase before, but it was something of a necessity — we live on the second floor (third if you’re American) and there were doorbells for flat 1 and 2 in our block, but not ours. This meant a distinct chance of missing out on deliveries of orders from Amazon and Chinese takeaway due to a lack of any means for someone at the block’s front door of letting us know we were there. And that will never do. A man needs his Chinese takeaway and AMAZOO.nep deliveries.

Actually, the statement that said I’ve never had to purchase a doorbell before isn’t quite accurate — in my second year at university, I lived in a first (second) floor flat which didn’t have a doorbell. The front door was at ground level and opened straight on to some stairs up into the main part of our flat, so if my housemate and I were in our rooms or the living room, chances are we wouldn’t hear anyone knocking. (We sure as hell heard the fight outside our door one night, though, and got a bit scared when we heard shattering glass. Luckily the aggressor in the incident had punched through our neighbours’ door, not ours. I say “luckily” — obviously not for our neighbours, who then had to spend the next few months with their front door boarded up because the landlord of the building was too lazy to do anything, ever. But these brackets have gone on for too long so I’d better close them before I lose the point of what I was saying.)

Anyway, yes. I popped down to our local massive hardware store, which was but a short walk from our flat, and investigated doorbells. At the time, wireless doorbells, which would have been the ideal solution, were rather expensive. As a student, spending forty quid on a doorbell was out of the question, and I didn’t really feel like drilling holes in the doorframe and poking wires through, largely because I didn’t have a drill. So on that occasion we survived without a doorbell.

Not so this time, though. Both Andie and I are in gainful employment, and as such we were more than able to afford a doorbell for our new place, particularly as wireless doorbells appear to have come down in price considerably over the course of the last ten years. Wired ones didn’t appear to be an option, even. I am fine with this.

The doorbell we chose was a bog-standard model with a single sound that thankfully isn’t too horrendous — it just makes a nice, normal (if obviously electronic) doorbell sound. It doesn’t play a horrible monophonic ringtone-type tune and it doesn’t go on for longer than it needs to, which were the things I was worried about. There’s nothing more embarrassing than a doorbell that outstays its welcome. (Well, there is. Lots of things are. But you know what I mean.)

What I was particularly surprised about as we were browsing the fine selection in B&Q (which I maintain is one of the most tedious stores in the world despite the presence of chainsaws) is the ridiculous features the more expensive doorbells offered. The most expensive one they had there — which was about the same price as the basic wireless ones from ten years ago, as I recall — not only had a wide selection of built-in chimes for you to pick from at your leisure, it also had the ability to play MP3s.

Think about that for a moment. A doorbell. That plays MP3s. Truly we are living in the future. An incredibly pointless future where instead of flying cars and cures for cancer we have doorbells that play fucking MP3s.

I express mock outrage at this but I guess it’s sort of amusing. You could, with that doorbell, essentially have anything as your chime. If you wanted Brian Blessed shouting “GIMME THAT FUCKING BADGE BACK!” (possibly the best video on all of YouTube, that) every time someone was at the door, you could. Or perhaps the chiptune ALF theme from the dancing chicken man video I used to love so much. (Used to? I just put it on and fell in love all over again. CAN’T STOP WATCHING) Or, if you really wanted to drive yourself absolutely insane, this. Or this. Or perhaps the song that gave us Epic Sax Man. Or… well, yeah. You get the idea.

Damn. Now I sort of wish I’d splurged on the stupid MP3-playing doorbell. Much better for trolling Andie with than getting Siri to call her “Bumface”.