#oneaday Day 268: Microsoft's greatest UI crime

Microsoft is guilty of numerous UI crimes from over the years. The "Ribbon". Metro Tiles. Centre-justifying the taskbar. But for me, all of these pale in comparison to what is, for me, one of the most annoying things they have ever done. And that is the introduction of these buttons:

If you don't recognise those buttons, they're right in the middle of a modern-day Xbox controller. Introduced with the Xbox One, they replaced what used to be there, which is this:

I'm sure you can see what the issue is with the top set of buttons, but in case you can't, there are numerous problems.

Firstly, what the fuck are any of them called? I bet you don't know without looking them up. I don't even know what the middle one does, and that icon isn't much help either. Is it for removing liquid from a container? Fuck knows.

Secondly, if you can't remember what either of them are called, this makes it infinitely harder to remember which way round they are, necessitating you look at your controller any time you are asked to press them. This is not a problem that the Xbox 360 layout had, since the buttons themselves had helpful arrows indicating which side they were on. And they had the names of the buttons on them too. We'll leave aside the unnecessary replacement of the conventional "Select" with "Back" for the moment.

Thirdly, if you are using an older controller that still has Xbox 360 button labels on it, but a game insists on using the newer Xbox iconography, it's really hard to know which one you're supposed to press, particularly if you've never had an Xbox One/Series controller in your hands before. This, again, is not a problem that the Xbox 360 layout had, all because of those simple little arrows.

Part of the problem with the newer buttons is that they assume consistent functionality. The one with the three lines is called the "Menu button", and makes the assumption that any time you press it, a menu will appear. This is not always the case, however; sometimes it might pause a game or a cutscene, sometimes it might be used to start a game, sometimes it might do something extremely specific that is only relevant to a single game.

Likewise, the button with the two overlapping squares is called the "View button", and even Microsoft's own website doesn't have a good explanation for it, saying only that "the button's functions vary depending on the app or game." There's no real reason for it to be called the "View" button, because, as Microsoft themselves say, there is no fixed purpose for it. Much like the "Menu" button, it can have all manner of uses, many of them having nothing to do with the word "View" whatsoever. (As an aside, the above link doesn't even mention the middle one, either. So maybe Microsoft don't know what it does, either.)

One could argue that these criticisms could quite reasonably be levelled at the "Start" and "Back" buttons also. But there's an important difference: up until that point, it had been standard convention for a controller to have, at the very least, a "Start" button, and often a "Select" button also.

And the uses for those buttons had remained both pretty constant over the years and relevant to the button names: "Start" had always been used to start games, like a Start button on an arcade machine, and had also been used for pausing (in fact, the Nintendo Gamecube had specifically labelled it "Start/Pause") and then starting them again after you paused them. "Select", meanwhile, used to be the button you used to toggle through selections on a menu — this is most commonly seen in old Nintendo games — before it was decided that navigating using the directional pad made more sense, particularly in more complex menus.

Microsoft's "Select" replacement "Back", meanwhile, while not always used to "go back", often was used in that way in Xbox software, thereby giving it 100% more practical use than a "View" button that its own manufacturer admits doesn't have anything to do with viewing things.

While we're on the subject, I'm not a huge fan of Nintendo replacing "Start" and "Select" with "+" and "-" either, but at least those make a sort of logical sense; "+" is on the right while "-" is on the left, reflecting how you would expect to see a line of numbers presented, with smaller ones on the left and larger ones on the right. We'll leave aside the fact that these buttons are very rarely used to increase and decrease values in Switch software, and instead are used as, you guessed it, pretty much what the old "Start" and "Select" did.

I'm sure someone somewhere thought they had a really good reason for changing the Xbox buttons to what they are now. But they suck. They always have done, and every time I play a game with my (still working) Xbox 360 controller and have no fucking idea which button I'm supposed to press because I can never remember which way around the stupid Menu and View buttons are because my controller doesn't have them, it's immensely annoying. Kudos, then, to those developers who bother to put in different options for button labels according to Xbox 360, Xbox One, PlayStation and Nintendo conventions, then. You guys are unsung heroes.

That has been your pointless rant of the day. Yes, I know the United States is imploding and something something Ukraine, but I was just reminded of these stupid-ass buttons today, so I felt like having a good old whinge about them. You may now return to your previously scheduled Sunday of wasting time on the Internet.

Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.

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#oneaday Day 266: Beetle Drive

After writing a bit about flash cartridges the other day (and, err, ordering one for my Mega Drive when I saw it was payday) I thought it was probably time I sat and played some of the stuff I had on my Everdrive 64 X7 hooked up to my Nintendo 64. So I did. And I'm reminded that while the Nintendo 64 was a rather odd system in many ways, it also had some great games.

I will probably write some more on these over on MoeGamer at some point, but in the absence of anything particularly interesting happening today, I thought at least a couple of them would make worthwhile blog fodder.

The first one I decided to give a bit of a go was Beetle Adventure Racing, a game which I remember reviewing well back in the day, which I know is often featured in "best of Nintendo 64" retrospectives, which I know my brother likes and which, somehow, I have never gotten around to trying. So I decided I would fix that issue and try it.

Beetle Adventure Racing is really good, you guys. I'm kicking myself for not trying this sooner — and kicking myself for not taking a punt on it back in the days when the N64 was current, either, because I would have absolutely loved this.

For the unfamiliar, Beetle Adventure Racing is an arcade racer from Electronic Arts (boo, hiss, I know, but we still liked them back in the N64 days) and Pilotwings 64 co-developer Paradigm Entertainment. It was created at least in part as a sort of "advergame" for the new-model Volkswagen Beetle, which launched in the late '90s, right when the N64 was in its heyday. It's not obnoxious about it, mind; it's just a game in which all the cars happen to be '90s New Beetles, and apparently Volkswagen weren't all that precious about what EA and Paradigm did to them, because Beetle Adventure Racing sees you doing some ridiculous things with them.

At its heart, Beetle Adventure Racing is a relatively straightforward arcade racer. You can play single events as either full-field races, duels against a single opponent or time trials. There's a championship mode with several difficulty levels, each of which unlocks some new tracks. You can play two-player races. And there's a four-player battle mode that, back in the days when I had three-dimensional friends and we, as a people, went around to each other's houses on a fairly regular basis, I feel we would have had a lot of fun with. One day. Maybe.

The "Adventure" part of the title comes from the design of the courses. While they're relatively straightforward (albeit surprisingly long by genre standards) circuit races at first glance, it won't take you long to notice that there seem to be a lot of scenery elements that just beg the question "I wonder if I can go over there". And the answer, usually, is yes. Track splits in two? Pick a direction. Road goes one way, railway lines head the other way into a boarded-off tunnel? Crash through that sucker and see what's in there! Curious-looking pathway running parallel to the main course, then branching off in a different direction? Check it out next lap.

Now, the nice thing about the course design in Beetle Adventure Racing is that taking these detours doesn't put you at a disadvantage, despite, in some cases, appearing to lead you in a completely different direction to the "official" course. Nope, a lot of them are, in fact, shortcuts that let you skip parts of the track — or at the very least take a different route to get to the same destination.

In the championship mode, they have a secondary purpose, too: they tend to conceal boxes with numbers on them. Crashing into these boxes gives you points. If you get 50 points in a single race, you get a continue that lets you try again if you mess up. If you get 100 points, you get a "bonus" that the game is rather coy about — I believe it's extra stages for the battle mode. There are also, I've just discovered, three hidden "flower boxes" in each stage that unlock "cheats". I haven't even seen one of these yet.

Anyway, the long and short of it is in Beetle Adventure Racing it pays to really explore the different tracks, understand the different routes it's possible to take and practice nabbing the bonus boxes at every opportunity. Because while it's relatively easy to win the novice-level races without putting yourself out too much, combining the point-scoring (and the flower box-hunting) with still winning the race makes things much more interesting than your average arcade racer.

And the tracks! While obviously a little limited by the late '90s tech and the system the game is on, they're proper "thrill ride" courses. One takes you through a not-particularly-subtle Jurassic Park homage, complete with T-Rex bursting through the bushes at the side of the course. One takes you through a volcano. An icy course sees you careening through crystal caves and negotiating huge frozen obstacles. And, as previously mentioned, they're all long, meaning you get plenty of time to enjoy them, and there are plenty of opportunities to spot the different shortcuts, detours and otherwise optional areas.

It's not quite the same as today's "open world" racers, where it's possible to go very off-piste, often to the detriment of your race performance. In Beetle Adventure Racing, the alternative routes are very much designed as integral parts of the courses, rather than simply a thing to go "huh, cool" at, then return to following the guide line for maximum efficiency.

It's a joyful, silly game that I've had a lot of fun with so far — and will likely continue to do so for quite a while yet. In fact, I think I will go and do just that right now.

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#oneaday Day 261: Two for one

Two for the price of one today! Aren't I generous? Of course, I could have probably put what I'm going to say in this post into the previous post, but then I wouldn't have "caught up" having missed a day, and I (and, let's face it, no-one else) would feel bad.

So with that in mind, I'll do my best to try and talk about something completely different in this post.

I've spent my evening playing some Midnight Resistance on Evercade. I do like that game a great deal, and there is, in fact, a reason I've been playing it outside of just "because I want to", but I also just wanted to.

With the general size of modern-day games, it's easy to forget about the appeal of classic arcade-style games from earlier generations of hardware. It's easy to think of these games as being somehow "lesser" thanks to them not having in-depth storylines, not having hours upon hours of gameplay (assuming you can make it through them) and not having in-depth secrets and lore for theorycrafters to post six-hour video essays on YouTube about.

I'm as guilty of this as anyone. When I sit down to play a game in the evening, I'm usually prioritising whatever my "big game" is at the moment — Xenoblade Chronicles at present, for example. But sometimes, as I alluded to the other day, I'm in the mood for something different. And that's generally when I bust out something that doesn't take as long to play, but which I often find is still incredibly rewarding, relaxing and enjoyable.

Take The Excavation of Hob's Barrow, which I played and wrote about recently. I decided to play this pretty much on a whim, but almost as soon as I started I knew that I would be devouring this game within a day or two. And, rather than coming away from the experience feeling like I hadn't had value for money from the game because it only lasted for 6 hours, I came away not only immensely satisfied with the experience I'd just had, but also inspired to write nearly 3,000 words about it.

It's the same any time I jump into something a bit shorter. I need to stop thinking of these as "filler" games, as it's easy to do, and actually settle down and spend some proper time with shorter experiences. Because there's a lot to appreciate in them, and it's valuable to consider the various different ways that interactive entertainment can engage our brain, excite us and distract us from the misery that is generally existing in 2025.

I'm feeling increasingly attracted to 16-bit games specifically, and with that in mind I've ordered an FX Pak Pro for my Super NES. This is a flash cart from the Everdrive maker Krikzz, based on an open source project known as SD2SNES, and it supports pretty much every SNES game you can think of, including the ones with the funny custom chips like the Super FX chip or DSP chips — and supposedly it even runs Game Boy games via the Super Game Boy 2 setup. I'm looking forward to loading it up with European SNES ROMs — the TV I run my SNES on doesn't like doing 60Hz — and spending some quality time with some excellent 16-bit games in the very near future.

And, once my wallet has recovered from the not-inconsiderable amount that the FX Pak Pro costs, I'm going to do the same for the Mega Drive and have an absolutely delightful selection of games to spend some time with when I just feel like kicking back and playing things that aren't too demanding of my time.

I do like collecting retro games, but realistically speaking, I have a few considerations: firstly, I don't have a lot of space for more games, and the priority on the remaining space is for current stuff; secondly, retro is getting very expensive, and not always worth the amount you need to pay to get stuff in reasonable condition; and thirdly, retro is also getting a bit unreliable at times. I bought the game Desert Strike three times from CEX and all three cartridges have an issue in the same way. It's not my SNES because that runs absolutely everything else just fine. Combine that with the fact that batteries in carts with save game functions are starting to fail and it's just easier to go the flash cart route. It's not as if buying a second-hand copy of a game from CEX is sending any money back to the original devs, after all — and as a general rule, if something I enjoy gets an official rerelease on a modern system, I will happily pay up for a physical copy of it. (Even better, often with Evercade I get to be part of making those physical releases!)

So yeah. 16-bit is where it's at for me at the moment. And with that in mind, I think a few more attempts at Midnight Resistance before bedtime.

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#oneaday Day 259: Excavations

I successfully did what I planned yesterday — for two nights in a row, even. Last night I spent some time with Smashing the Battle on Nintendo Switch, which I'll write a bit more about once I've spent some more time with it, and tonight I have seemingly spent nearly six hours playing The Excavation of Hob's Barrow, a point-and-click adventure by Cloak & Dagger Games, published by modern adventure game specialists Wadjet Eye Games.

It always does my soul good to see how not-dead the point-and-click adventure genre has been for quite some time now, because there was definitely a period in the mid 2000s and early 2010s where it felt like there weren't any being made. 3D tech was getting better and everything was suddenly all about cinematic action games — something that certainly hasn't gone away in more recent years — but, looking back, it's clear that adventure games never really went anywhere. And these days, I'd say they're thriving more than they ever have done, even in their supposed golden age. Because not only can we enjoy the established classics from that golden age, there's a host of new ones seemingly being made all the time.

I'll write more specifics about The Excavation of Hob's Barrow when I've fully completed it — I've pressed pause on it for this evening as it's a quarter to one and I should probably sleep. Suffice to say for now that it's very good, though.

In The Excavation of Hob's Barrow, you take on the role of Thomasina Bateman, an antiquarian who has made it her mission to document the various ancient burial mounds scattered around the English countryside. We join the story as she arrives in a remote Northern village, supposedly the home of the titular Hob's Barrow, but she's immediately confronted with mysteries as her contact is nowhere to be seen and no-one seems to want to talk about Hob's Barrow.

That's all I'll say on the plot for now. The interface uses a pretty standard two-button system, with left-clicking "doing" things and right-clicking "looking" at things, but there's plenty of thinking required. Thus far there has been no real "moon logic" to speak of, just a sequence of tasks to complete that provide a sense of relative freedom without overwhelming you with possibilities. In fact, the game is quite cleverly designed in that the "freedom" you feel is not really present at all; there's quite a fixed sequence of things to do with a chain reaction of dependencies, but the fact you discover the beginnings of all these various threads before you start figuring out which order you need to solve them in is what makes this game really work.

It's beautifully presented in low-res pixel art combined with modern graphical techniques and greater colour depth, which gives it a wonderfully distinctive aesthetic. The voice acting is very good, too, seemingly making use of native Northerners in many cases.

I'm intrigued to see where it goes, but not quite enough to pull an all-nighter on it. After all, GOG Galaxy says I've already spent 5 hours and 28 minutes on it this evening and I've only completed two of the in-game "days". I don't know how many there are in total, but it does feel as if the third one is going to be somewhat climactic, so I estimate I'm maybe a little over halfway to two-thirds through? We shall see, I guess.

Anyway, if you're jonesing for a modern point-and-click adventure, I can definitely recommend this one. It's kept me pretty enraptured for the whole evening and I'm looking forward to seeing how it all concludes.

For now, though, sleep. Sleep!

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#oneaday Day 258: Mix it up

One thing I find myself having a bit of trouble with these days is feeling like I'm able to "mix things up" with regard to the things that are entertaining me. I feel a peculiar sense of "guilt" if I start on a new game, TV series or any other form of media before finishing one that I have already been working on for a while. And while in some respects that's not necessarily a bad thing — I estimate I finish more games and TV series than probably 95% of the average game-playing public out there — it's also a bit different from how I used to live.

When I think back to, say, the PS2 era, I had absolutely no problem chopping and changing between what games I was playing. Sure, if I found myself particularly compelled by an RPG or other narrative-based game, I'd probably make that a priority, but I also wouldn't feel any sort of "guilt" if I decided that no, that evening I really wanted to play Grand Theft Auto III. And I'm trying to figure out what, exactly, changed in my mind to create this, frankly, irrational feeling.

My initial reaction was that it might stem from the time where I was doing "Cover Game" features on MoeGamer, where I committed to playing a (usually long) game through from start to finish, penning at least four articles about it along the way. But then I remember while that was at its peak, I was also putting out pretty much daily articles about all manner of other games that I was playing. Granted, a lot of that came down to the fact that I was desperately bored at my day job and thus spent a lot of "work" time actually writing new articles for MoeGamer, but I still had to actually play the games in order to be able to write about them.

So whatever it is, it's happened since that time, so I estimate probably within the last 5 years or so.

Perhaps it's just generally feeling pretty run-down, and not wanting to have to think about too many things at once. That's a plausible suggestion, but inevitably I tend to find when I do have an evening where I just say "fuck it", put my current "big game" to one side and play something else for a bit, I have a good time. So it's not necessarily that I don't want to engage with something else; it's that I'm putting up a weird mental roadblock preventing me from doing so.

Part of it also may well be a false, completely unreal sense of "urgency" that is all in my own head. "I have all these games," I think, "so I have to get through all of them as soon as possible!" And this is nonsense. When I think back to that PS2 era and even earlier, I thought nothing of going back and replaying a favourite game multiple times, just because I enjoyed doing so. I thought nothing of playing a game with multiple endings repeatedly from start to finish without skipping anything. And those were good times!

I'd like to try and get back into that vibe I had when I was writing daily posts on MoeGamer. A while back, I experimented with the idea of "Gaming on a Schedule", and chronicled my thoughts on the process. I came away thinking that it was kind of a good idea, but that it was also possible to be too rigid about such things. The optimal balance is one where you still make time for your "big game" so you actually finish it, but also feel free to have an evening or two or three a week where you just… do something else instead.

So I think I just need to have a bit of a word with myself. If I have an evening such as I am having tonight, where I feel like "I don't really feel like playing Xenoblade Chronicles," there is no reason that I should feel guilt about that. I've already spent nearly 100 hours on that game, and I'll be spending at least that amount of time again on Xenoblade Chronicles X starting this time next month. So what does it matter if I have an evening "off" and play something else instead? It doesn't mean that I'm never going to finish Xenoblade Chronicles, which I think is where this whole roadblock stems from. Leaving aside the fact that I'm already very near the end, I have, after all, already beaten it once in my life, albeit on a different console.

So y'know what? This evening I'm going to play something else. Exactly what, I haven't quite got as far as deciding just yet. But I'm going to go with my gut rather than agonising over it for hours and then getting to bedtime having not actually done anything fun at all this evening.

So there. That's that. Here we go.

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#oneaday Day 257: When it's bollocks, say it's bollocks

I am an avid reader of Ed Zitron's blog (sorry, newsletter, because apparently that's just what we call blogs now) Where's Your Ed At? If you're at all interested in the tech space, I highly recommend you subscribe or at least check in on it regularly, because Zitron is one of the only people in the space who has the balls to say it like it is: that an awful lot of what is coming out of the mouths of tech companies right now is complete and utter bollocks.

Today, a story went round about a research project at Microsoft where they were using generative AI for "game ideation", and also noted that they thought they could use their generative AI models for "preservation". This was reported on by Tom Warren, senior editor at The Verge, thus (screenshotted rather than embedded 'cause the coward deleted it after everyone dunked on it):

Now, if you know anything about video game preservation, you know that feeding an old game into a generative AI model and then hoping it will hallucinate at least a rough approximation of the original game experience is not "preservation". It's bastardisation at best, a completely useless endeavour at worst, and a massive waste of energy and money regardless of the result that comes out of the other end.

Game preservation is a problem that, for the most part, we have solved. We have excellent software emulation solutions, built over the course of decades of development. Hardware emulation via FPGA at an affordable cost for the general public has advanced hugely in just a few short years. Software libraries for pretty much any system you can think of are archived in their entirety at numerous places across the Internet, and strong strides have been made in providing commercial, legally relicensed versions of classic games for a modern audience, both on existing modern systems and on bespoke emulation-centric devices.

So why, then, why the fuck would we want a generative AI model to make a best guess at what a video game that already exists and has been preserved perfectly well might look like if you play it for longer than 10 frames?

That paragraph above is what tech journalists should be asking. And the reason I bring up Ed Zitron at the start of this post is because he's one of the only people to actually ask questions like this: to take a look at the utter garbage being spewed by today's tech companies and to say "this is complete horseshit, what the actual fuck are you on?"

And Zitron, being an outspoken type, is not afraid to call out today's tech journalism space for not doing this. And he's absolutely right to do so. It is the tech journalism sector's job to look at what it going on, to realise that it is complete horseshit and then have the confidence to say that it is complete horseshit.

But they won't do that, for a variety of reasons. Advertising deals. Exclusive access. PR partnerships. An inexplicable desire not to rock the boat, despite the fact the boat has a huge hole in it and has been steadily sinking for 15-20 years at this point.

I'm not one of those people who thinks that journalists are taking bribes for positive reviews in literally all circumstances — I have experience in the industry, remember, and the most I had to worry about in that regard was a mild admonishment from my editor for criticising a Mortal Kombat game's DLC plan when Mortal Kombat was the cover game for that issue of GamePro.

But come on now. Tech journos should be looking at this utter garbage that keeps getting flung our way, and instead of declaring it "interesting" and doing the stupid looky-eyes emoji that makes their post immediately look like a 14 year old girl wrote it, they should be going "hang on a minute, what does that actually mean?" then exploring it further, asking some probing questions (which inevitably won't get a response, but that in itself says something) and then confidently declaring the latest generative AI "innovation" to be what it is: complete and utter horseshit doused in the finest snake oil.

And people wonder why the entire journalism sector is floundering. Could it perhaps be because very little actual journalism seems to be getting done?

Shout-out at this point not only to Ed Zitron's aforementioned blog, but also the excellent coverage of the Elon Musk nonsense in the States by Wired's politics department, 404 Media being a rare example of tech journalism that actually asks those hard-hitting questions, and Aftermath for doing something similar with games journalism. There are still people doing good work out there. But the people on the big, well-known mastheads, like Warren above, need to step their game up, stop being so incredulous and start acting like actual journalists.

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#oneaday Day 256: I'm tired of collective hateboners

I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that probably 75-80% of the games I've bought in the last… maybe 5 years or so, possibly more, have come from limited-press companies. My reasoning for this? I like owning physical copies of games, and most of the limited-press companies wait to put out a physical version of a game until it has all its updates applied and usually (though not always, these days) all its DLC.

Taking this approach to buying games has a few effects. Firstly, it makes me consider whether or not I really want something, or if, as often happens with digital releases, I'm likely to download it, play it maybe once or twice and then never think of it ever again.

I value physical releases more. I just do. This isn't a slight against those who can't afford to, don't want to or aren't able to do physical releases, it's just a fact about how I approach my video game collection. If it's not on a cart or a disc, I am very likely to forget about it.

One thing I'm growing increasingly tired of is the collective whingeing that goes on any time a limited-press company announces its involvement in a physical print run of something. It happened just today with Digital Eclipse's long-awaited announcement that it will be publishing physical versions of its "Gold Master" interactive documentary series on Karateka, the back catalogue of Jeff Minter and Tetris. Because Limited Run Games are involved, some people have already written the release off completely. One person in a Discord I frequent described it as the "worst birthday present ever".

And… I just don't see it. Limited Run used to have big problems back when they opened pre-orders for five minutes and then promptly had them all swallowed up by scalpers, but they don't do that any more; instead, they have an open preorder window, during which they establish who actually wants a copy, then they print those copies. Sometimes it takes a good few months from ordering a game to actually getting it, but the company has always been up-front about that being a thing, at least partly for the reasons I described above — wanting to ensure that the game is "complete on cart/disc" with all updates applied — and partly to give them the time needed to take all those preorders, pass those orders on to their manufacturing partners and then sort the whole shebang out.

The same is true for other limited-press houses. Probably the "worst" of the batch in terms of being kept waiting is Strictly Limited Games, who has been sitting on preorders for some games for (checks) three years at this point, but when their eminently affordable special editions do arrive, they are absolutely lovely in terms of quality, with tons of extras and just plain gorgeous packaging.

I guess I just… don't mind waiting. I am under no illusions as to when I will be getting a game when I order from one of these companies; more often than not, it's a nice surprise several months (or even years, in the case of Strictly Limited) down the line when I get a dispatch notification for something I'd all but forgotten I ordered.

To an extent, I get why this pisses people off. We live in an age where if you order from Amazon at the right time, you can get something on the same day you ordered it. We live in an age where you can click a button online and get food delivered to your door within half an hour or so. We live in an age of digital convenience, where if you want to watch something you just click the thing to watch it rather than having to search for somewhere that has it in stock, order it and wait for it to arrive.

To anyone who is used to those modern conveniences, paying up for something you won't get for months is unthinkable. But it's not that unusual. Many online shopping sites that aren't Amazon take a while to ship things. eBay sellers can be relied upon to not even think about shipping your item until a week after you paid. Things go out of stock and sometimes aren't back in stock for months. Granted, most of these situations doesn't see you waiting as long as you do for a limited-press video game, but after several years of hearing people constantly whining out non-specific complaints about Limited Run and its ilk, I just have to say… I don't care. Shut up.

In seven years of ordering from Limited Run, I've had precisely one mishap, and that was down to the courier in this country making a mess of things rather than anything Limited Run did — I ended up with a slightly crushed Switch case for the Contra collection from Konami. So y'know what I did? I got a new Switch case and replaced the damaged one. Job done.

In multiple years of ordering from other limited-press companies, I've had no issues. Yes, I have the aforementioned outstanding Strictly Limited orders, but I have faith that those are going to arrive. It doesn't really matter when they arrive, because I have over a thousand other games on my shelves all around me, and even more in my Steam library and downloaded to various consoles. It'll be nice to finally have those, but I'm not mad about them not being here yet, because there's really no point in being mad about it. I paid my money knowing that I'd be waiting for a while, and so that's exactly what I will continue to do.

I will also be ordering the Digital Eclipse Gold Master games when preorders open on February 25 — although as it happens, Digital Eclipse have sensibly partnered with a European distributor (Clear River Games, who also distributed their excellent remake of the first Wizardry game) as well as Limited Run for North America, which makes life quite a bit easier.

I'm tired of not feeling like I can be excited or pleased that something I hoped would get a physical release is actually getting a physical release, because The Internet can't get over its collective hateboners. And I can almost guarantee that a significant proportion of the people whingeing about it being Limited Run don't have any specific complaints other than they don't like them, or because someone involved in the company said something dumb on Twitter.

If you don't like them, you have no obligation to give them money. You have no obligation to buy anything if, for whatever reason, you don't want to give the people making it any money. I happen to like what they do, and I'm getting real tired of people pissing over my excitement for things like the Digital Eclipse releases because they can't get over the publishing partner.

Anyway, that was a useless rant. No-one's reading this anyway. But I feel a bit better. Time to go watch Angel in bed.

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#oneaday Day 249: The Hankering

I'm getting a hankering to make a game again. I say "again", having only ever finished one game-making project (technically two, though one was a remake of the first). I'm not sure what triggered this — perhaps a recent post on Bluesky that I found quite striking:

Just make insanely self-indulgent shit. Quality does not matter. Quantity does not matter. "It's just [thing] yet again 🙄" does not matter. Whether or not you ever show it to anyone does not matter. Make self-indulgent shit because it's the only way to live and be happy.
— Lee 🌿 (@desertghosts.bsky.social) 2025-02-03T23:41:57.952Z

And… this is good advice. Being creative is fun, and the biggest mistake a lot of people make when pondering whether or not to be creative is "can I monetise this?" The modern Internet has made us all believe that everything we do should be to the end of making money from it, but it really doesn't work that way. Some of the most rewarding creative work I've ever done came about because I just… wanted to create it. (Frustratingly, one of my all-time favourite works in this regard, my epic, albeit unfinished, RPG Maker 2000 project The Adventures of Dave Thunder, has long been lost to the ghosts of PCs past.)

And so I've been pondering booting up one of the many different versions of RPG Maker I've acquired over the years. My specific thinking this time around is not to do what I always do — which is to get overly, stupidly ambitious, spend six months gathering plugins and reading half-finished, unresolved Reddit threads about how to do stuff, then never actually make a finished game — and instead to just do something simple, unassuming and straightforward. To that end, I have my eye on a couple of asset packs for RPG Maker MV that include Famicom-inspired graphics and music, and I kind of want to see if I can make an enjoyable game using just that and the stock RPG Maker MV mechanics.

I've been hovering over the "Buy" button for those asset packs all day. They're £50 in total, which is quite a lot to spend on what will almost certainly be little more than a vanity project, but I also feel like I'll probably get £50 worth of fun out of making something, even if the only person who ever plays it is me.

The other thing stopping me is pondering what sort of concept I should use. In past RPG Maker projects I've always had grand ambitions to do something unusual and expectation-subverting — but subverting players' expectations is almost a cliché in its own right these days, so just making a straightforward Famicom-style RPG feels like it would be more fun at this point. And, thinking back on my beloved The Adventures of Dave Thunder project, I had the most fun by just making the damn thing up as I went along, balls to any sort of coherence. Self-indulgence was the name of the game there, and I loved it.

So I think that might be the play. Just download those assets (perhaps waiting an hour to see if they go on sale in the RPG Maker event that's supposed to be starting today) and just make, and see where things end up. Who knows? I might even end up making something actually good. Or, indeed, finish something. But we'll see.

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#oneaday Day 247: Enjoying things as we used to

One thing I'm becoming increasingly conscious of as time goes on is how my attitudes towards enjoying my hobbies have… well, they've stayed the same, really, but other people are changing around me, even people who are older than me who I would have thought would be even more set in their ways than I am.

I'm thinking of two particular examples when it comes to this. First is the "I don't have time to play long games any more" person, who no longer wishes to commit to any game over the 20 hour mark because they'll "never finish it", ostensibly because they are "much too busy" now to be able to commit to it.

In some cases, this may be true, particularly if the person in question has started a family in the interim. But realistically speaking, I know a lot of people who say this actually have pretty much the same amount of free time as they had 20+ years ago, and are thus talking bollocks.

Why do they think they have no time, though? Because daily life has changed. We are so overstimulated with our daily lives — and particularly the ever-present nature of the Internet and its endless reams of Content™ — that it's easy to feel overwhelmed, like you simply don't have time to just switch off from all that and enjoy something that takes your full attention. What if you miss a pithy tweet from someone? (To that I would say "get off Twitter, it's a Nazi bar") What if you don't see breaking news happening as it breaks? (To that I would say "we used to do just fine with news bulletins on the TV at 1pm, 6pm and 9pm") What if you miss a message from someone you like? (To that I would say "most forms of online communication are inherently asynchronous, meaning it doesn't really matter if you reply now or in 6 hours' time")

But I get it. It's easy to get locked into that "loop" of cycling around the same three websites, hoping something interesting happens. And before you know it, several hours have passed — several hours you could have (and should have) spent doing something much more enjoyable. This is one of the biggest reasons I've tried to curtail my own social media activity as much as possible, and why I'm still not entirely convinced that signing up to Bluesky wasn't a big mistake. But we'll see on that. At least Bluesky isn't a Nazi bar now.

The other situation that gives me pause these days is when coming across people who won't even consider starting to watch a TV series if they don't have access to every piece of information ever written about it immediately. In a couple of Discords I'm in, there are people who won't start a new TV show if there isn't also a YouTube channel of some boring GenZ type holding a lapel microphone in their hand (clip it to your shirt, for fuck's sake) giving "summaries" of what went on in a monotone drawl.

This latter one is absolutely alien to me, because it makes watching a TV show into a complete chore — to say nothing of how much time it adds to the complete series' runtime if you insist on watching BrackityPoop420 read out an AI/Wikipedia summary of what you literally just watched along with each episode. I watched all of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine last year and the only time I looked at a wiki or any sort of commentary was to see if the actors I thought I recognised actually were the actors I thought they were. (They usually were.)

I feel like our overall sense of media literacy has taken a real tumble over the course of the last 20 years, and I feel it myself at times, too. Last night, I watched the first episode of The Wire, and I found it enjoyable, but a little hard to follow to begin with. By about halfway through, I'd settled a bit more into the rhythm of things and I think I'll find the rest of the series a little more palatable, but that first half an hour made me think "have I made a mistake here?"

20+ years ago, we would quite happily pick up a box set of some show that we liked and watch it repeatedly. This was partly down to how media was relatively expensive compared to what you can pick it up for these days, but I feel it also helped our overall sense of media literacy to be more willing to do the work ourselves and watch something again to see how we responded to it second time around. Today, there are two things standing in the way of that: one being the crippling fear of spoilers, and two being the constant desire to consume new content.

I've talked before on here about how much I object to the use of the word "content" (and "consume", for that matter) when we're talking about creative works and art. And nowhere is this more apparent than with folks' media literacy. It's not about watching something and understanding it deeply any more; it's about watching as much as possible, as fast as possible.

And this isn't an exaggeration; Netflix has gone on record as saying that numerous shows and movies on its service are specifically designed to be "second screen experiences" that people don't really have to pay attention to, and the proliferation of people who will quite happily admit to watching everything on 1.5x normal speed "just so they can get through more" is… well, I don't like it.

Just recently, I picked up a few box sets of DVDs from CEX because they were dirt cheap. I've grabbed The Wire, Angel, Scrubs and Friends — all complete runs. I already have Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Battlestar Galactica (which, probably 10+ years after acquiring, I must shamefully admit I am still yet to watch) and there's probably a couple of other series I might nab at some point (notably some Star Trek series, maybe Frasier and House) — and then I think I might be happy with just that. Watching new stuff is cool at times, but it can also be overwhelming — and it can also cause things you once loved and thought were a fixture in your head to just… fall out. I can't remember a lot of what happened in Angel, for example, and I fucking adored that series when it first came out.

I think it's okay if you don't "get" something first time you watch it, or if it takes a little while to get into the groove of a new series, like I suspect I'm going to be with The Wire. I'm going to consciously try to resist running straight to a wiki wherever possible, though; we used to live without these things and still be able to enjoy our media, so I'm pretty sure I still can live like that.

Also I still have time to play long RPGs. And I suspect I always will.

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#oneaday Day 240: Fair and Balanced Critique

Hello! First of all, here:

That's the first of the two videos I recorded this weekend. Please enjoy a full playthrough of King's Quest II: Romancing the Throne on Atari ST.

Part of the reason I'd felt inspired to play this (and Space Quest) this weekend is because I've been watching the videos of a channel called Space Quest Historian. This is a chap who absolutely loves adventure games, but had little experience with the King's Quest series prior to a donation drive on his Patreon, where he said he would play through each and every King's Quest game for reaching various donation milestones. He also doesn't really like "fantasy" as a genre.

I have been absolutely loving his entertainingly scathing teardowns of the King's Quest games, and I adore those games for the most part. And I've been racking my brains trying to think why I'm enjoying these vids so much when sometimes I feel oddly upset and defensive when someone is negative about something I love.

And it all comes down to intent. Space Quest Historian isn't malicious about these games at all, even when ripping them a new one for their more absurd elements. Instead, he's inviting us to be in on the joke; inviting those unfamiliar and existing fans alike to come along on a ride where he entertainingly points out all the ridiculous things in these games. And, to be clear, as a fan of King's Quest, I can quite happily admit that there are a lot of ridiculous things in those games.

Where this differs from, say, reviews of Japanese stuff that have upset me in the past, is that Space Quest Historian is not being mean about these games, nor is he being mean about the people who like them. He's not suggesting that you are a bad person for liking the games, nor is he suggesting that you are wrong for liking the games; instead, he is simply providing some light-hearted commentary in a series of videos that it should be abundantly clear from the very opening seconds should not be considered serious critique or analysis. And he's often the first to say as much.

Compare and contrast that approach with, say, reviews of Japanese games that outright call people who like them paedophiles, or suggest that people who enjoy a particular series are sex pests, or that they only like anime women because no real woman would ever want to touch them. That crosses a line. That's mean, and uncalled for. All of the games I'm thinking of with those examples have plenty about them that can be poked fun at, but without it being at the expense of those who genuinely love them and have found meaning in them.

It can be a fine line, of course, between being hyperbolically nitpicky about something and the audience feeling like you're attacking it. And indeed, some commenters on Space Quest Historian's channel feel he veers too far in the "bad" direction. But as someone who is normally quite sensitive to this sort of thing, I've been really enjoying his work, and I'm looking forward to seeing more. It doesn't stop me from enjoying the King's Quest games; in fact, I probably find these videos funnier precisely because I recognise all the things that he's discussing.

Anyway, just fancied saying all that — and sharing my King's Quest II playthrough above. Please enjoy!

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