Tag: oneaday

1307: Thaumaturgist

You'll have to excuse any typos in this post; I'm very tired due to having spent a significant proportion of the day/evening playing the Final Fantasy XIV beta. And I'm pleased to confirm that it's very much living up to my expectations.

I'm playing a Thaumaturgist this time around — in the last phase of beta I played a Pugilist. I was a little concerned that the game would fall into the usual MMO trap of all classes playing in a pretty similar manner — spamming the same combination of hotbar items over and over again, repeat until dead — but the Thaumaturgist plays noticeably differently to the Pugilist. As it should be.

While the Pugilist is a melee character that demands you get close in to — and preferably behind — your enemies, the Thaumaturgist is a ranged magic damage dealer. Unlike your common or garden usual MMO mage, though, the Thaumaturgist makes use of an interesting mechanic that, thematically, represents their "aetherial balance" between "Astral Fire" and "Umbral Ice". Essentially, what this means is one of two things: if you're in Astral Fire state, you do increased damage with your fire spells, but they also cost more magic points to cast; if you're in Umbral Ice state, your spells do less damage but your magic points regenerate a lot more rapidly than they would usually. Playing a Thaumaturgist effectively involves knowing how to use these two states effectively to ensure you have good damage output while also keeping your stock of magic points high.

That's not all, though. Each of the classes in FFXIV has its own unique questline to follow, with new "episodes" in the story coming every five levels or so. The nice thing about these is that they have their own storyline to follow, but also they help teach you things about your class you might not have realised. The level 15 quest for the Thaumaturgist, for example, is essentially a stealth mission that teaches you about the effectiveness of your Sleep spell: you're tasked with sneaking in to retrieve an artifact, and rather than fighting the strong enemies who are between you and it, you simply put them all to sleep and prance through singing "trollolololol" or something.

What I've really been surprised about is how much effort's been put into the narrative side of things — something that's often neglected in MMOs. The genre giant World of Warcraft, for example, has an enormously rich and detailed setting to draw on, and yet — at least in its early incarnations, I haven't been back since Catacylsm — this storytelling potential was utterly squandered in boring quests that were given to you in the form of dull text readouts.

Final Fantasy XI, XIV's predecessor, was somewhat better in that there were "missions" as well as "quests" to do — these often incorporated cutscenes, story progression and even boss fights at times, but XI's difficulty and painfully slow progression meant that a lot of people might not have got very far.

XIV nails the balance. There's a ton of solo content you can do, with a storyline to follow that makes your character feel important. There are recognisable non-player characters whom you come to have various feelings about, and events occur that actually have some sort of meaning. There's also a lot of instanced battles where you get your own private special event without other players interrupting — proper boss battles. And these aren't just like fighting any other monster — sometimes you'll be battling alongside other non-player characters in a huge skirmish, other times you'll have to hold out against seemingly overwhelming odds until an NPC shows up to tip the balance in your favour.

It all feels like an actual Final Fantasy, in short, rather than an MMO with a Final Fantasy skin atop it. Your incentive for progression comes as much from the unfolding story and the cool setpieces as it does from gaining yet another level.

I haven't done a lot of group stuff yet, but I did try a Guildhest earlier. This also gave me the opportunity to try the Duty Finder system, whereby you mark yourself as wanting to do a specific multiplayer "thing" — be it a Guildhest, a dungeon or something else — and then let the game match you with other people looking to do the same thing automatically. Pleasantly, you can continue playing while you wait to find a party — it's a good time to take on the short, snappy, time-limited "levequests" for some pocket money and experience.

As for the Guildhest, it was short but very enjoyable. It was essentially a party-based arena battle intended to give players practice at working together and trying not to aggro multiple groups of enemies. Initially, you and your teammates must simply take out two parties of relatively easy monsters; then another set appears, accompanied by a huge boss monster. Inevitably, they all come charging towards you, so it becomes necessary to prioritise your targets — taking out the smaller things first before starting on the big boss. When you've successfully completed it, the iconic Final Fantasy fanfare plays as if you'd just completed a battle in a "normal" Final Fantasy game — a nice touch.

I'm really looking forward to seeing how the game continues once it officially launches later this month — the current beta only allows you to progress up to level 20 and is still lacking a couple of features. The only real challenge is going to be — as ever — juggling both it and other games I want and/or need to play!

1306: Mark Book

My brain occasionally lapses into childhood when I contemplate looking at comment sections, because, as full of cretins as they sometimes are, comment sections are the modern-day equivalent of the red (sorry, green — red's too aggressive) pen scribblings your teachers would scrawl after your assignments at school.

Imagine if the two scenarios were reversed, though. That'd be weird, wouldn't it? Get your maths homework back with "lol fake and gay" written after it; read a New Statesman article and discover the entire comment section is nothing but people writing variations on "You have the beginnings of a good argument here, but your overuse of the word 'problematic' displays a disappointing lack of creativity that ultimately hurts the piece's credibility. See me to discuss."

Actually, I think in the latter case, that'd probably be preferable, to be honest.

I joke, but I do genuinely feel like I'm being "marked" when I see that there are comments on things that I've posted. In some senses, when you put something up for public perusal — particularly on something with a wider audience than this teeny-tiny personal blog — you are being marked, particularly if you've written something contentious.

A lot of writing on the Web is designed to persuade people of something or other, whether that's that the reader should go and buy Gone Home (you probably should) or that the art in Dragon's Crown is going to bring about the downfall of society as we know it (it's probably not), and as such when someone feels compelled to leave a comment, they're going to be going through your arguments, deciding whether or not they agree with them and then leaving their "judgement" on the piece. If someone agrees with you, it's like getting a nice big tick, a "Good." and a gold star; if someone disagrees with you — particularly if they do so aggressively — it's like not only having a lengthy teacher comment that you hope your parents don't catch a glimpse of, but it's like having that comment publicly read out to the rest of the class.

Except there's one key difference between comments and marks — comments are (theoretically, anyway) a dialogue; marks from your teacher are a one-way thing. (At least they were when I was at school; I wouldn't be at all surprised if modern education invited pupils to "respond" to their teacher's comments and/or "appeal" if they didn't feel they'd been treated fairly.)

That's a pretty big difference. Even if someone gives you a "bad grade" through a negative comment or a complete disagreement/dismissal of your opinion, you can attempt to engage with that person and start a conversation. Sometimes interesting discussions can arise; other times, utterly pointless shouting matches can result, leaving you wishing you'd never written the fucking thing in the first place.

Are comments valuable? There's no easy answer to that question. I don't think they're valuable in all circumstances — it's extremely rare to find a helpful YouTube comment, for example, and comments left on Facebook are 95% pointless, regardless of whether they're left on personal posts or adverts — but at other times they can be the source of thought-provoking discussion and even the fostering of friendships. (Comments on this site have certainly fallen into that latter category, which I'm happy about, and over on USgamer we've mostly enjoyed respectful, well-considered discussion and debate from our commenters so far, which is immensely encouraging to see.)

Would the Internet be a better place without comment sections? Quite possibly; but it would also remove a lot of the ability to converse and engage with things that we take for granted today. So, for better or worse, they're clearly here to stay.

Just remember to give your favourite writers a good mark every now and then!

1305: Kiss Kiss

Okay. After mentioning it the other day in my lengthy post about hentai, I feel compelled to talk a little more about the anime KissXSis, since I've watched a few more episodes of it now and am about halfway through the complete run.

KissXSis is, let's not mess around here, not a fine work of art. I am finding it entertaining, certainly, but I question as to whether or not it's "good". It's certainly not something that everyone would appreciate, given that it's riddled with gratuitous fanservice throughout and actually gets a whole lot racier in certain episodes than I thought it was going to.

Speaking completely honestly and frankly, though, this is quite refreshing in a strange sort of way. It's a show that has absolutely no shame whatsoever — in its subject matter; in its gleeful celebration of eroticism; in its acknowledgement that teenagers — both male and female — are horny little fuckers. While I'm well familiar with this side of Japanese culture from eroge, this is, I think, the first show that actually goes noticeably further in this direction than others I've seen.

Let's back up a mo just in case you're unfamiliar with this series — and let's face it, unless you've specifically sought it out for one reason or another, you probably are. (I'm actually fuzzy on exactly how I came across it in the first place, to be honest; I think I may have stumbled upon it on a fansub site or something.)

KissXSis is a slice-of-life anime (there, that's probably enough to put a bunch of you off; as regular readers will know, however, I'm a big fan of this sort of thing) in which the male lead Keita is constantly harassed by his twin stepsisters Ako and Riko. Keita — initially at least — knows that despite the fact he is not related to his sisters by blood — and despite the fact his father (his blood parent) is seemingly desperate for him to get with one or both of them — it would probably be a bad idea to do anything inappropriate with them. That doesn't stop them from trying, however, and indeed the temptation proves to be a little too much for Keita on more than one occasion — though the show consistently interrupts anything truly outrageous happening before it gets out of hand.

If that were all, the show could have probably hobbled along as something of a one-trick pony for twelve episodes or so, with Ako and Riko concocting increasingly elaborate plans to seduce Keita — and indeed it looks as if it might go that way in the first couple of episodes. As the series progresses, though, the cast gradually expands and Keita's relationships become more complex. We have his awkward relationship with the quiet, shy librarian girl Miharu whom Keita regularly ends up accidentally and unintentionally doing totally inappropriate things to, usually as an indirect result of the twins' interference; we have his "childhood friend"-type relationship with his underclassman Mikazuki, a loli with an pantsu-flashing fetish whose innocent appearance belies the fact she's actually far more mature than her 23-year old sister; and, in the arc I'm just getting into, said 23-year old sister — also Ako's homeroom teacher — turns out to not only be a closet otaku, but also a bit of a pervert herself, much as she'd rather deny that fact to herself and everyone around her.

It's a horny little show, much of whose humour revolves around sexuality and inappropriateness, and it's perhaps for this reason it's not all that well-known over in the West — I don't believe it's had an official translation or localisation, which might explain the hack job on the subtitles in some of the episodes I've watched so far. It's oddly endearing, though, and like a good eroge it knows when to turn up the heat and when to relax. It's a massive prick-tease for a significant proportion of its screen time, and if you're as shallow a pervert as I am that will doubtless be enough to keep you watching. However, alongside all this is an amusing — if occasionally uncomfortable — tale about teenagers coming to terms with themselves and their feelings, told by a genuinely memorable cast of characters. Ako and Riko in particular are both genuinely loveable characters and I've found myself rooting for them to get with Keita even despite the inherent "wrongness" of it all.

So, then, while it's not a show I'm going to recommend specifically to you or to anyone, I'll just say that I am enjoying it as a bit of a guilty pleasure at present and leave it at that. You may do with that information as you please. (Except blackmail. I hate blackmail.)

(Oh, and it has one of my favourite ending animation/song combos I've seen. Super-simple, but super-effective. I'll leave you with it.)

1304: Reppin' the Row

The Saints Row IV embargo lifted earlier today, and some of you may have already read my contribution to USgamer's review. Since I wasn't the main reviewer on that, though, I thought I'd take a moment or two to write something a bit more personal about why I like it so much and why you, dear reader, should probably pick the game up when it comes out.

Saints Row IV is exactly, as many people have already said today, where the series needed to go. Rather than aping Grand Theft Auto — something the series hasn't really been doing since its first installment, and even then it was its own distinct thing to a certain extent — it's gone full-on batshit crazy, and is all the better for it.

Let's back up a moment and look at a game that clearly had a significant impact on Saints Row IV's development: Crackdown.

Crackdown was an interesting game, and one of the more underrated titles in the Xbox 360's library. Most people picked it up purely for access to the Halo 3 beta, but I spent a lot of time with both Crackdown and its subsequent sequel. It wasn't perfect, but it was good fun, particularly when you shared the experience with a friend. It was one of the few games in which the relative lack of storyline helped rather than hindered the experience — it meant that leaping around from rooftop to rooftop collecting those elusive "agility orbs" didn't feel at odds with what you were "supposed" to be doing in narrative terms. Rather, Crackdown set itself up to be a superpowered playground, and that's exactly what it provided. To make things even better, it makes the best use of Achievements I think I've ever seen on the platform, encouraging players to cooperate with their friends to complete various silly challenges, such as playing tennis with a car and a pair of rocket launchers.

Crackdown's biggest thrill was its sense of freedom — the feeling that you could go anywhere, do anything, or at least anything within the constraints of the controls you were provided with. The game encouraged you to explore and try to do ridiculous things. One of the first things a lot of people tried to do was climb the tallest tower in the city, then leap off without dying. Sure enough, in the full version of the game you get an achievement for doing both of these things. It's a game that not only encourages its players to have fun, it rewards them for it.

Saints Row IV is, to a certain extent, the same. While it has a more structured narrative than Crackdown ever did, it has that same sense of freedom that comes from the use of ridiculous superpowers. Not long after starting the game, you're provided with both super speed and super jump powers, both of which can be gradually upgraded. Eventually, you're not only hurtling along the roads faster than traffic, you're running up walls, leaping from building to building, gliding across half the city in a single bound, then crashing down to earth, scattering everything and causing chaos around your landing area. You're encouraged to make full use of these powers by collecting Saints Row IV's equivalent of Agility Orbs — and there are over a thousand of them to find. You're also challenged to make skilful use of them by climbing vertigo-inducing alien towers, and to use them in creative ways to clear out heavily-fortified alien outposts.

The activities you'll be indulging in while playing Saints Row IV are diverse, and there's been an obvious and conscious move away from the more "criminal" activities seen in Saints Row The Third. You're still doing things like deliberately injuring yourself for insurance fraud, though this time around your superpowers causes your ragdoll to go cartwheeling down the road for miles at a time, making the experience far more akin to something like Burnout Paradise's Showtime mode than anything else. At another moment, you might be using telekinetic powers to throw objects, cars and people through hoops. On another occasion, you might be carefully using your superjump to accurately land on platforms in an abstract environment, or racing through Wipeout-style tunnels in an attempt to score as many points as possible before you reach the end. There's a lot to do, and pretty much all of it is genuinely fun, whether you're alone or playing co-op with a friend.

The story provides a good impetus to keep playing, too. The characters are all endearing, despite all of them having "asshole" tendencies to varying degrees, and there's a real sense of camaraderie between them. Those who have played earlier games in the series will be pleased with some significant nods towards series continuity — including a guest appearance by Eliza Dushku, who played Shaundi back in Saints Row 2 — but this is never done in such a way as to feel exclusionary to those for whom this is their first Saints Row game. Collectibles include audio logs from each of the major characters, so you can delve into their backstory as much or as little as you like — and it's clear that the team at Volition considers this motley crew far more than just generic tropes.

By far the best thing about the whole experience, though, is how much ownership you can take of it all. You can design your own character to be however you please. It can be male, female, transgender or anything you please. It can be attractive, ugly, fat, thin, realistic, alien-looking… the list goes on. And once you're into the game, you can continue to feel like your character is "yours" by choosing their voice, the way they taunt people and the way they compliment them. Seeing them in cutscenes is a constant delight, even if they don't look anything like "you" — there's something inherently satisfying about seeing a character that is entirely of your own design playing the leading role in a game. Of course, it's mostly an illusion — there's only a limited selection of voices to choose from, for example — but even knowing that, there's a huge amount of joy to be had from it being "your" character while still having a personality that has obviously been written with some care.

Short version, then: you should play Saints Row IV. It's out soon. Buy a copy. You won't regret it.

1302: ZETTAI RYOUI-- I mean HERO

Have I mentioned ZHP, aka Zettai Hero Project: Unlosing Ranger vs. Darkdeath Evilman on these pages yet? I forget. If not, I'm about to. If I am about to repeat myself, eh, whatever.

ZHP, as I will refer to it from now on to save my sanity, is an RPG from Nippon Ichi for PSP (Vita compatible). Its aesthetic and style is strongly reminiscent of NIS' flagship strategy RPG series Disgaea, but it's a very different sort of game — rather than being a turn-based strategy RPG, it's a turn-based sort-of-roguelike in which you control a single character.

The concept of ZHP is pleasingly ridiculous. The Earth's hero, the Unlosing Ranger, is on the way to save the world from villain Darkdeath Evilman when he gets run over. As he dies, he passes on his powers to the silent protagonist you spend the rest of the game playing. You, as the new Unlosing Ranger, are immediately thrown into NES-style turn-based RPG combat against Darkdeath Evilman and are defeated almost as quickly as combat begins. Thus begins a lengthy adventure to "train" yourself how to be a proper hero.

I'm only about 10 hours or so into the game so far so I can't comment with any authority on how the game progresses, but I'm really enjoying it. It's pleasantly portable friendly while at the same time being deep enough to also encourage hefty play sessions if you've got the time or inclination. Despite being turn-based, the dungeon crawling, exploration and combat feels very fast-paced and enjoyable. There's a lot of loot to collect, all of which is reflected on your character's appearance when you equip it, but a lot of it is very temporary — items have very limited durability, and thus become all but useless after a while.

Progression in ZHP is unconventional and bizarre. Unlike a traditional roguelike, there's no permadeath — instead, being defeated in a dungeon tots up all the levels you gained on that particular run and adds them to your "Total Level". This, in turn, provides bonuses to your base statistics, which means that "level 1" the next time you go into a dungeon is a significantly better "level 1" than it was at the start of the game. This progression can be supplemented by inserting various objects into your body, at which point they become "chips" that affect your base statistics. Then there's Hero Energy to direct around, booster items to plug into your chips and all manner of other nonsense. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before, but it seems to work really well.

At the stage I've just got to in the game, I've just unlocked a 60-floor dungeon that is clearly intended for grinding purposes. Given that the maps, enemies and even environments are randomly generated each time you enter, the whole game could have been this enormous dungeon and I'd have been happy, but there's a fun and surprisingly "nice" story running alongside it all too — part of the game's concept is that by running through the dungeons in "Bizarro World" you're helping solve the problems of "real" people back on Earth while simultaneously powering yourself up enough to battle Darkdeath Evilman.

Anyway. If you need a portable RPG — and one that's both toilet- and commute-friendly — then it's well worth a look. Don't let the Disgaea-esque aesthetic put you off if you weren't a fan of that series — ZHP is a very different beast indeed and well worth your time.

1301: Eclipse of an Empire

My regular group of board gaming buddies and I finally got around to trying a game of Eclipse today. We didn't finish it, but we all had a pretty firm grasp of what was going on, so the next time we play things will hopefully run a little more quickly and smoothly. It's very much a "weekend game," though, due to its length, so I find myself wondering how often it will hit the table.

Eclipse, lest you're unfamiliar, is a sci-fi empire building game in which you take control of one of several spacefaring civilisations (human or alien) and then proceed to attempt to score as many points as possible over the course of the game's hard time limit. Scoring is achieved through controlling sectors, winning battles, forming trade agreements with other players and researching new technology.

The nice thing I found about Eclipse is that its sheer number of components make it look hideously complicated at first glance — and the rulebook perhaps doesn't help matters, either — but its mechanics are actually pretty simple to understand once you get into it. It is essentially a game of resource management and ensuring you don't overstretch yourself — there's a lot of having to restrain yourself from doing too much too soon, lest you find yourself having to undo all your hard work in order to, well, pay for your hard work.

Eclipse works with three currencies — money, science and resources, each of which are produced each turn in varying amounts according to which planets you've colonised. Each planet has a particular colour according to whether it's a money, science or resource planet, and one or more "slots" for adding population cubes to them. Taking a population cube off your civilisation's reference sheet reveals your new income level while simultaneously giving you the means to mark your ownership of a planet. It's an elegant system, albeit one that requires a lot of "bits" to function.

The main mechanic of Eclipse involves making use of your "influence" to perform various actions. By spending an influence point, you can take another action in the current round of the game, but the more influence you use, the more money you're going to have to spend at the end of the round. Influence is also used to take control of sectors (and indirectly, by extension, colonising planets) and thus you can find yourself running up a significant bill rather quickly if you're not careful. This is where the "pacing yourself" thing comes in — you need to balance a series of productive actions with ensuring that your expenses are kept at a manageable level.

Eclipse has a great research system, whereby you use collected science units to purchase technologies, and then, using another action, use your researched tech to upgrade the blueprints for your various types of ship. Your civ's reference sheet has a "blueprint" for each of the ships and starbases, and adding new tech is a simple matter of laying tiles over the existing stuff to upgrade them. You can customise each ship a huge amount in this way, though you have to do things like ensure there's enough power available to power the massive cannons you've just strapped onto the hull.

I enjoyed what I played. I sometimes get a bit weary during games like this as they can sometimes be a bit too heavyweight for my distinctly non-strategic brain, but Eclipse seems to strike a good balance between accessibility and depth. Plus the excellent iPad version means I can practice whenever I like!

1300: I'm Not a Foodie

After going out for a very nice (and expensive) meal for a friend's stag weekend tonight, I can confirm something I've suspected for quite some time now: I'm not a foodie.

It's not that I can't appreciate food that has had care, attention, time and effort expended on it to make it look, taste and smell great. It's just that I don't think these expensive restaurants are significantly nicer than something simple. If anything, I find fancy food too fussy — there are too many flavours for me, when I much prefer something simple, homely and enjoyable.

Take steaks. I love a good steak. Steak is one of the most delicious meats there is when just cooked nicely and served up by itself, perhaps with some chips and/or a bit of salad. Smother it in some sort of sauce or marinade, though, and it becomes considerably less appealing — the delicious taste of the steak is, more often than not, overwhelmed by the taste of the sauce, and that's not the reason I wanted to have steak in the first place.

The menu this evening had a lot of delicious things on it — steak, fish, chicken, pasta, gnocchi. And yet I found it very difficult to pick something I actually liked the sound of, because for every item that was based on something I enjoy — steak, fish, chicken, pasta, gnocchi — it was promptly made far too fussy by rubbing rosemary all over it, festooning it with onions or incorporating herbs and spices I'd never heard of.

This may sound like being a fussy eater and I guess it sort of is — my longstanding violent dislike of onions precludes me from eating a lot of fancy food, which is often riddled with them — but more than being fussy, it's simply the fact that I just don't really enjoy food that's too "complicated", for want of a better word. I don't know whether this is because I don't have a particularly refined palate, or because I'm not used to food of this type, or because it's just my particular tastes, but regardless of what the reason is, I think I would, in most cases, much rather have a pub lunch or a nice roast dinner than anything that been anywhere near the word "jus".

I wonder how you refine your palate for things like this? I often contemplate this question when confronted with an impressive-looking cheeseboard, none of which I have the slightest inclination to eat, or am invited to appreciate a salad as being anything more than just bland leaves… or, indeed, as with this evening, am presented with a number of individual ingredients I like by themselves that are smothered with things that I either actively dislike or don't really appreciate in conjunction with the things I do like.

So there you have it. I'm not a foodie. Consequently, I'm something of a cheap date, too.

1299: It's Four O'Clock in the Morning

Good morning! I've just got in. (Well, I got in about half an hour ago, but whatever.)

I've been "out" this evening. I recall writing a post a while back about how I don't really "go out" any more in the way I used to — that's "go out" in the sense of "going somewhere to imbibe a lot of alcoholic beverages then stumble somewhere you probably won't remember in the morning." And yet this evening I found myself doing almost exactly that. (The only part lacking was the "lot of alcoholic beverages", since I was driving.)

It was my friend James' stag night this evening, you see — an event which is continuing over the weekend. This evening was intended to be a fairly conventional night out — a nice meal, then maybe a couple of drinks somewhere, then back home in preparation for other stuff tomorrow. Since we're all considerably older than we used to be, we weren't particularly intending on doing anything "big" or time-consuming like clubbing, but somehow here I am at nearly 4am having just rolled in from what ended up being a rather long night.

The specifics? Not a chance. What happens on the stag night stays on the stag night and all that.

Suffice to say, though, I was surprised how much I ended up enjoying myself, and it was largely down to two things: the company, who were pleasingly laid back for the whole evening, and the venues, which, while hastily chosen in all cases apart from the restaurant we'd booked, turned out to be entertaining, pleasant places to hang out. And by that — yes, I'm aware how old I sound when I say this — I mean they were places where you could actually hold a conversation with the people you were with, rather than having to bellow small talk into each other's ears — something which I always find to be embarrassing and surprisingly exhausting.

On the whole, I think James had an eminently suitable start to his stag night, weekend, whatever you want to call it. The evening took a few twists and turns I don't think any of us were expecting when we started, and I think everyone had a good time. I also think most people involved were surprised that we all still had what turned out to be a lengthy night out in us — it's nice to know that we're perhaps not as decrepit as we might have perhaps thought we were.

I do quite urgently need to sleep now, though, despite the amount of Coke I've imbibed over the course of the evening. I can have a lie-in tomorrow morning, at least, then it's Doing Stuff that is Probably a Little More Sedate Than This Evening tomorrow afternoon and evening. For now, adieu.

1298: Far from the Valley

Jeez. I am so glad I'm not reviewing mobile and social apps any more.

I know I've said this numerous times before, but I feel like every day I come across something even more offensively vapid and pointless that makes me want to punch everyone involved in the face for thinking it could possibly have ever been a good idea.

Today, I came across an app called "Kahnoodle." Here it is.

Kahnoodle is a "relationship app" that, according to The Atlantic, "wants to make maintaining your relationship automatic and easy — as easy as tapping a button. Its options include sending push notifications to initiate sex; 'Koupons' that entitle the bearer to redeemable movie nights and kinky sex; and, of course, the love tank, which fills or empties depending on how many acts of love you’ve logged."

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

Kahnoodle isn't the only app of this type, I might add. As the Atlantic piece linked above notes, "couples' apps" have been around for a while now, and represent some of the most pointless implementations of social media I've ever seen: they're social networks designed for just two people. I reviewed one a while back called either Couple or Pair (I forget which one it was, because they changed the name from one to the other, which made all the App Store reviewers of it disproportionately angry at the developers) with Andie, and we both agreed within a matter of seconds that it was an utter waste of time.

The reason that apps like Couple/Pair and Kahnoodle are utterly pointless, of course, are because there are infinitely better ways to do the same thing already available that don't require their own dedicated app. You can privately message people via Facebook, Google, AIM, Skype, email, text message, What'sApp, Kik… hundreds of other potential apps, from which you can talk to, you know, other people as well as your partner.

Kahnoodle's selling point is that it "gamifies" your relationship, and as we all know from listening to Silicon Valley startup tosspieces, "gamification" increases "engagement" and "brand awareness" or whatever bullshit they're talking about this week. Because these apps, despite appearances, aren't really about bringing people together and helping them communicate at all; they're about building up a captive audience who can then be either advertised at or monetised straight up the bumhole — sometimes both, in some sort of hideous business double-penetration scenario.

I apologise for that mental image. But if you need to "gamify" your relationship in order to remember to have sex or whatever, then perhaps you should sit down and have a very serious talk with your partner, because I would suggest that's a sign that Things Aren't Going All That Well. A real-life relationship is not like The Sims, where you can get yourself out of the doghouse by grinding the Chat, Compliment and Joke options until the meter climbs out of the red.

Sigh. Anyway.

One of the big reasons the App Store, Google Play and its ilk are such frustrating places to browse these days are because there are so many of these ridiculous apps available that provide nothing of any particular worth to society. The few useful apps that are available for phones inevitably get buried under this torrent of digital sewage, leaving those who are making good things consistently frustrated at the fact their stuff can never get noticed. It's not just in mobile games this is happening — it's in all types of apps. I've pretty much given up looking at the App Store now — I use my phone for basic communication through Twitter, Facebook, email and the like, and only download something from the App Store if I know precisely and specifically what I'm looking for.

So good job, shovelware merchants; you've pretty much destroyed the concept of "discoverability" with your relentless pursuit of the crap. I hope you're pleased with yourselves.