#oneaday Day 788: From the Depths of the Subconscious

Analysing your dreams can probably tell you a lot about yourself. If that's the case, though, I'm not sure I want to know what my most recent vivid imaginings say.

I dream best in the morning after I've woken up once. At least, those are the dreams I remember. If I wake up when Andie leaves for work and promptly fall back asleep again (which, to be perfectly honest, I usually do) then I'll often have incredibly vivid dreams which, more to the point, I tend to remember pretty clearly. They're certainly not conscious imaginings, because there's no way I'd choose to think of a lot of the things that flit through my mind. Rather, it appears to be a completely automatic process, presumably based on anxieties or thoughts already stuck in my head.

This morning, these bizarre "snooze dreams" were — and I apologise for what I'm about to recount — rather lavatorial in nature. To begin with, I found myself sitting on a toilet in an upstairs hallway of a house. It wasn't my real-life house, though I think it might have been my own house in the dream. Quite why there was a toilet in the upstairs hallway was anyone's guess. And quite why I was sitting on it when the house was clearly playing host to a large party is an even bigger mystery.

Despite the fact I had clearly just had a dump in front of all the passing partygoers — most of whom seemed oblivious to my presence and activities — for some reason (and again, I apologise) I found myself unable to… uhh… "clean up", as it were. I found myself panicking and wishing all these people weren't in my house, screaming at them to get out of the way, but still no-one paid me any heed.

I ran downstairs and found myself in the house I lived in for my fourth year of university. I knew there was a nice, quiet toilet in the back where I could complete my business, so I opened the door. I found a toilet all right, but it wasn't the one I was expecting. Rather, it was in a large, L-shaped room whose walls and floor were all made of ceramic tiles. There was no ceiling to the room, and outside I could see that we appeared to be floating in space. Worse, there was no bog roll here, either, only three circular red buttons next to the toilet.

I left, and the subsequent journey was a blur, but I ended up in what appeared to be an aeroplane bathroom, albeit one with a sloping roof that met the wall behind the toilet, and a large skylight in it. When standing in front of the toilet, I could look out through the skylight, and I saw that we were in some sort of rural area. Outside the skylight, men in peculiar costumes were being shepherded away by strange figures I can't remember any details about. For some reason, I thought nothing of this strange and slightly sinister behaviour, because I had more pressing matters on my mind.

There was a toilet paper dispenser on the wall, so I pulled the handle to dispense some, but the string of sheets went down a small hole underneath the dispenser. When I retrieved the paper from the hole, it was completely covered in a weird black sludge which was then all over my hand. After going "urgh" for a little while, I simply washed it off, finally wiped my arse (noting with some surprise that my underpants had not been soiled despite all the running around) and then woke up slightly worried that I might have shat myself in my sleep. (I hadn't.)

This particular incident follows a long stream of other bizarre "snooze dreams" I've had which include being unable to go through with a sexual encounter because I didn't have the sheet music for it; starting to read the TV Tropes page for my own life and being literally unable to look away from it; and a particularly unpleasant one where I lived in a big house with all my friends and we all suddenly started hating each other for no apparent reason.

My subconscious is fucked, basically. Oh well, at least it keeps things interesting. And the fact I can remember all this nonsense gives me good fodder for when I actually do want to do something creative and imaginative… though I can't see a novel about someone who might have shat himself catching on, really.

#oneaday Day 787: Shadow Hearts: A Scoreless Review

Shadow Hearts for the PS2 is a game which seems to be almost universally adored by everyone who has played it. It's certainly a far cry from the reaction its PS1 predecessor Koudelka got, for sure, proving that yes, sometimes developers do learn from their mistakes.

Is it worth playing in 2012, though? That's one of the questions I set out to answer when I eschewed the latest and greatest in fancy-pants HD gaming and booted up Sacnoth's classic for the first time. I'd never played it before, so coming to it as a 2012 gamer would be my first experience — hopefully allowing me to determine whether or not it's still worth your time.

First impressions are striking, and not necessarily in a good way. We're in full-on old-school JRPG mode here, with polygonal characters wandering around on top of pixelated prerendered backdrops, occasionally stopping to perform a canned animation and generally not looking overly natural in their surroundings. Couple this with that much-maligned mainstay of Japanese roleplaying games, the random battle, and you have an experience which takes a little getting used to if you're accustomed to the ways in which the genre has grown, changed and adapted over the years.

Once you get your head into the mindset of how things work, though, all that culture shock quickly fades away. The characters may have somewhat wooden animations, but they're detailed 3D models with plenty of personality, and they provide the party you eventually assemble over the course of the game's 30 hours or so with a distinctive look. When combined with the good quality localisation job which has been done on the game's dialogue, the game's cast comes together as a loveable, memorable crew of misfits that is all the more notable for not relying on traditional JRPG archetypes.

The plot, too, is interesting and unconventional, blending real-world events from the early 20th Century with pure fantasy that occasionally drifts into Lovecraftian "it came from beyond the stars" territory, though with a slightly light-hearted edge on everything. It works well, and all the more so for the fact that it doesn't feel the need to necessarily spell things out for the player. You can tell that we're dealing with some sort of twisted alternate history here when we see how comfortable everyone is with the use of magic, for example — there are no exaggerated "Wow, you have amazing special powers!" scenes when new characters join the party, even when protagonist Yuri reveals the ace up his sleeve: his ability to transform into slobbering death monsters.

The characters' special abilities are what provides depth to the game's combat system. Characters tend not to be single-minded specialists, but often have a range of skills that unlock over the course of the game which can be applied to a variety of situations. Even leading lady Alice, who is set up pretty early on to be your stock "healer" character, has some entertaining tricks which she can perform — and she's not the only one with the ability to heal, either. Even some of Yuri's monster forms have the ability to heal, meaning the player can stick with a party arrangement that works for them — or that is simply made up of characters they find appealing. Given Yuri and Alice's importance to the overarching plot, however, most players will likely find themselves spending the majority of their time in the game with these two and one of the four other characters in the third slot.

Combat unfolds via a rather sedate turn-based system. There's no time bars here, just a simple behind-the-scenes initiative calculation determining who gets to go next. There are two twists on the traditional turn-based combat formula, however: sanity, and the Judgement Ring.

Sanity points gradually drain over the course of a fight, reflecting the mental strain battling horrific eldritch monsters has on the human psyche. Running out of sanity points causes the character to go Berserk, attacking enemy and ally indiscriminately accompanied by the word "Violently" curiously emblazoned in the air over their head. In a nice nod to characterisation through statistics, different characters have varying pools of sanity points according to their own mental faculties. Alice, for example, being a bit of a scaredy-cat girly-girl at times, has a very small pool of sanity points, while Yuri, who is wandering around with a variety of monsters living in his psyche, has a very large pool which he expends any time he turns into a monster — presumably a rather traumatic experience.

Meanwhile, the Judgement Ring is the mechanic which drives the whole game. Rather than simply hammering the Attack button to get through fights as quickly as possible, the Judgement Ring is a timing-based system that requires players to accurately tap the X button on their controller in time with a predefined pattern. Said pattern varies according to what the player is trying to do — using an item only requires one tap, for example, while the characters' later special abilities may require three or four carefully-timed taps in total. It's a simple means of making combat feel significantly more interactive than turn-based titles otherwise can, and it's also used outside of combat to resolve situations which would be handled by a dice-based "skill check" in a tabletop RPG — kicking down a door, negotiating for better prices in a shop, perfomring a task which requires endurance.

Whether or not you'll find Shadow Hearts to be a palatable play experience in 2012 will depend a lot on your patience. While the random encounter rate isn't overly high, you can expect exploration of the game's world to be frequently interrupted by battles with enemies — and, as is common for this breed of role-playing game, you'll see the same enemies and groups of enemies quite a lot over the course of a dungeon. Boss battles, meanwhile, are generally fairly lengthy experiences, partly to put a bit of pressure on the game's sanity system. Later conflicts can feel like they're dragging on a bit, particularly once you've managed to acquire some equipment for the party which allows them to shrug off things like status effects. The requirement to use the Judgement Ring with each ability use and attack helps keep things moving, but a few of the later bosses just go on a little bit too long to be comfortable or fun. The final boss is particularly prone to this, it has to be said, as it's something of a damage sponge. In a game where three-figure damage is considered a strong hit, taking down something with over 10,000 hit points is a task you'd better set aside plenty of time for.

Presentation has also moved on significantly since the game's original release back in 2001. Video sequences feature characters with that obvious sort of "rendered on the cheap" animation, and the voice acting is woefully inconsistent. Some English characters speak with an American accent, and others speak English at times and then yell something in Japanese in the middle of battle. The slightly rough edges do give the game a certain degree of charm, however, and the lengthy sequence where an old lady reads you a ghost story — complete with vocalised sound effects — is extremely memorable.

All in all, though, Shadow Hearts' charms considerably outweigh its idiosyncracies, and the game remains fun, entertaining and engrossing today. While it's not the most technically polished, high-budget JRPG — something which was apparent even back on its original release, especially when compared to Final Fantasy X, which came out the same year — it's certainly one of the most memorable. And, crucially, by clocking in at around 25-30 hours, beating the game is well within the reach of even people who like to go outside sometimes. In these days of everyone seemingly being increasingly busy, the importance of brevity shouldn't be underestimated.

So should you check it out in 2012 if you've never played it? Sure, but do be prepared for that initial culture shock as you adjust to the Way We Did Things over ten years ago. Times have changed, for sure.

#oneaday Day 786: On Endings

I'm not going to discuss Mass Effect 3's ending here, largely because, as you all know, I have not played the game, nor will I be doing so. I have, however, been reading up on it and I understand that it is SUPER-MILD SPOILER rather bittersweet — or just plain bitter, if you prefer to look at it that way. /SUPER-MILD SPOILER

There's been a ton of coverage regarding fan outcry over the ending. For the most part, those complaining about the ending (and even, in some cases, petitioning BioWare to change it) have been held up as figures of ridicule, the exemplification of that overused and increasingly meaningless word "entitlement". Some professional industry commentators have even taken to insulting and verbally abusing people who believe that the ending is "wrong", with one notable example referring to anyone who had criticised either Mass Effect 3's controversial DLC strategy or its ending as "whiny fucking babies". (That netted an instant total loss of respect and an unfollow from me, incidentally, not that the person in question likely cared.)

Other outlets took a slightly more measured approach to criticising this group, noting that forcing BioWare to change its creative work according to public opinion rather than steadfastly sticking to the ending it chose to write would cause Mass Effect to cease being art and to simply be another product. (I would argue — and have done — that it's already there, but that's a whole other issue.) Meanwhile, articles like this one, that offer a well-considered message of support to disenfranchised fans, are rather more rare.

I'm not quite sure where I stand on the debate. From what I understand of the ending, the thing that people are most upset about is the fact that it appears to render most of the decisions made throughout the course of the entire three-game series completely irrelevant. Given that this "decision-making, choose-your-own-adventure then deal with the consequences" nature has been a key selling point for the entire Mass Effect series, I can see why people would be pissed off about it. And if this truly is the case (still haven't played it, remember) then I'd be inclined to come down on the side of supporting those who are upset at the ending.

On the flip side, I have nothing against a bittersweet ending. In fact, some of my favourite endings over the years have been bittersweet ones. (Spoilers ahead. Highlight the text to read it. Mobile users, copy and paste the white text into a note or something.) Take Conker's Bad Fur Day, for example, where despite kicking all kinds of ass throughout the course of the game, culminating in an epic battle spoofing Alien, Conker's girlfriend, whom he has simply been trying to make it home to for the whole game, is still dead. Or Final Fantasy XIII-2 (another game which saw a bit of fan upset regarding the ending, though not to the degree of spawning a petition) where Serah dies in Noel's arms, having suffered a vision just like all the Yeuls the duo had seen throughout the course of the game — a possibility which the game had set up and repeatedly reminded the player of throughout. Or To The Moon, where the old man dies and it's still massively upsetting despite the fact you've known for the whole game it's going to happen. Or how about Persona 3 (I haven't played FES yet so don't spoil it if I'm wrong here!) where it's rather strongly implied that the protagonist dies peacefully on the school rooftop surrounded by his friends. Or Persona 4, where after spending a year with people, building up close friendships, solving a series of horrible murders and eventually saving the world, you have to leave them all behind by getting on a train and not looking back. I even loved Fallout 3's original ending, where the player character dies a horrible, painful death in a radiation-filled room while saving everyone else. Or… you get the idea by now, surely.

I liked all of those endings. I thought they were effective and, in many cases, quite moving. I think the difference we're seeing with Mass Effect 3, however, is that the ending is being seen as rather at odds with the way the rest of the game — nay, series — has played out to date, and fans feel that they are being cheated out of the choice of ending that they want, deserve, whatever you want to call it. Of course, there is a very complicated flowchart in a ring binder somewhere in BioWare HQ that maps out all the possibile decisions players might have made over the course of the three Mass Effect games, and attempting to untangle that in order to produce an ending that would satisfy everyone would be absolutely impossible.

Without getting into spoiler territory here, though, I feel it would at least have been possible for there to be one or two alternative ways for the saga to end besides those which are already there — and which are, from what I've read, relatively similar in their execution, if not their consequences and eventual outcome. It seems very strange for BioWare to do this given that they've been so good at endings in the past — look at the variety of ways Dragon Age: Origins can conclude, for example, whereby the player is pushed towards the final battle of the game, making it seem like a linear run to the finish, but is then thrown a number of massive decision points that significantly affect exactly how the ending goes down. The outcome is the same in each case, but the means by which it is achieved is enormously different — and, more to the point, is dependent on player choice as well as how they have played their character up until that point, factors which Mass Effect fans feel that the trilogy's conclusion is not taking into account.

Basically, I can see both sides of the argument here, though both sides also have a lot to learn about respectful debate. Many in each camp are making valid points which then have all credibility removed when someone causes things to descend into name-calling and hair-pulling. A debate over something like this should be interesting and exciting, not leaving everyone involved and any onlookers feeling faintly disgusted and ashamed. A game provoking such discussion should be celebrated; instead, this whole episode is proving to be something of an ugly blot on gaming history.

#oneaday Day 785: The Case of the Disappearing High Street

The oft-mentioned "economic downturn" (which has been turning downwards for so long surely it's completely upside down by now) has had wide-ranging effects — or, at the very least, things have happened which people feel can be attributed to said economic downturn. A lack of jobs meaning highly qualified people are forced to sit at home in their pants watching The Jeremy Kyle Show. Currency devaluation and something about inflation, which I shan't pretend to understand even a little bit. And, of course, the demise of the High Street.

To be fair, online shopping has been providing a compelling reason not to go and shop on the High Street for a number of years now, but as the news channels attempt to sex up incredibly boring financial stories with words like "CRISIS" and various incomprehensible graphs plummet inexorably downwards, the demise of in-person shopping could very much become a reality.

The latest casualty of various financial implications is the Game Group, who run both Game and Gamestation, the two main video game retailers here in the UK. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, major publishers and suppliers have pulled out of their deals with the two chains, preorders for big hits like Mass Effect 3 and the like are not being honoured, the company's share price has plummeted to something obscenely low and it's looking increasingly likely that the whole thing will go into administration, potentially leaving around 6,000 people out of a job. Which would suck.

For any Americans reading, Game is essentially our equivalent of GameStop. And while it's prone to many of the same problems GameStop has in the U.S. — inflated prices for preowned games, being bugged to preorder, a not-terribly-generous reward card scheme — it's been a fixture on the British high street for many years now, and the go-to destination for people to get the latest releases. Gamestation, meanwhile, was formerly the second-biggest game store chain, with a somewhat more grungey feel inside its various shops. It used to carry proper retro stuff — we're talking right back to Super NES and the like here — though that side of things has dried up a little in recent years, though you can still find the odd rarity. Game acquired Gamestation back in 2007, but kept the separate brand as a distinct shopping experience.

Both carried a wide variety of new games, preowned titles and gaming-related crap like Pokemon toys and Sackboy plushies. Until recently, they always seemed to be doing a roaring trade any time I paid them a visit — this perhaps partly being due to the fact that they were pretty much the only recognisable video game specialist retailers in the UK (barring second hand-only stores like Pink Planet and CEX).

Now, though, it's an altogether different story. The carefully-crafted music playlist playing through the store's speakers has been replaced by whatever the employees want to listen to (the other day, I heard some awesome metal versions of Nintendo themes, which made me wonder why on Earth they didn't do that more often); the employees seem a little downcast, particularly when people come in asking about (occasionally ill-informed) stories they'd read on the Internet; and the shelves are noticeably empty of the week's big releases. Every new day, it seems, sees a new publisher reporting that its latest titles will not be available on Game Group shelves — in just the last week or so, I've seen reports of EA, Capcom and Tecmo Koei pulling out before everything goes really tits up.

It's sad to see a once-proud retailer in what is clearly its death throes, and it's doubly sad when you think of the thousands of people nationwide who will likely be out of a job when the shit hits the fan. But as a consumer, it's worth noting that now is a great time to go and pay a Game or Gamestation a visit, because the stores are desperately trying to get rid of the masses of preowned games cluttering up their shelves. And you probably already know what that means — ludicrous savings.

In the last week, for the price of two brand new console games I've managed to acquire 17 games across several different platforms, many of which I've been meaning to try out for quite some time but couldn't really justify dropping £40 on. That's a pretty frickin' awesome deal, and while none of that money I spent makes it back to the publishers and developers of the titles in question thanks to the fact they're all preowned, frankly I don't really care at this point. I've long been a supporter of the used games market — over the years, it's been the source of some of my most beloved and rarest titles, which, in many cases, I've come to long after the game is out of print anyway.

But I digress. It's looking very much like Game is not long for this world, and once it's gone there will be very few places you'll be able to physically walk into to buy a new video game. What will take the place of these stores on the High Street?

Clothes shops, no doubt. One sector that remains resolutely safe from the "threat" of digital distribution.

#oneaday Day 783: Prepare for Moxibustion: Shadow Hearts First Impressions

[I am not at all sorry for the above image.]

I recently acquired copies of Shadow Hearts and Shadow Hearts: Covenant for PlayStation 2. My good friend and podcasting buddy Mark has been extolling the virtues of this series (well, its first two entries anyway) for a considerable amount of time now, and given my current aversion to recently-released triple-A titles, I figured it was about time to give it a shot.

For those unfamiliar with this particular little gem, Shadow Hearts is a Japanese roleplaying game from 2001 developed by a company known as Sacnoth (later Nautilus) and published by Midway in Europe. It's the sequel to an unusual PlayStation 1 roleplaying game called Koudelka, which blended survival horror and tactical RPG elements to create a game that had a rather mixed reception upon its original release. Shadow Hearts, unlike its predecessor, is a much more traditional Japanese roleplaying game, with a great deal in common with the PS1-era Final Fantasy games. Players control a 3D character on a flat, prerendered backdrop and are thrown regularly into random battles against enemies which are otherwise invisible on the field.

Aside from these basic mechanical and technical similarities, however, Shadow Hearts is a very different beast to Square Enix's franchise, for a wide variety of reasons.

Mechanically, an innovative feature in the game was the "Judgement Ring" system, whereby any action which would be resolved in a tabletop roleplaying game by a throw of the dice is instead left up to the player's reflexes and sense of timing. The titular Ring appears on screen with markers placed on it to show where the player needs to press the button. An indicator sweeps round it, and the player must tap the button as the indicator passes through the various areas. There are variations on the theme, but this is used throughout the game whenever there is an element of chance — both in and out of combat. For example, the Judgement Ring is seen when attacking an enemy, attempting to cast a spell or use an item in combat (outside combat, magic and item use automatically succeeds, thankfully) or attempting to haggle for a better price in shops. It's a simple system that through its inclusion lends a much greater feeling of interactivity and involvement to a genre known for making the player sit back and tap the X button 300 times before getting to do anything. Its timing-based nature means that combat can't simply be resolved by strapping a rubber band to the X button and walking away — the player must learn the various characters' "rhythms" for their attacks and stay on their toes to tap the button appropriately.

It's not just in mechanics that Shadow Hearts differs somewhat from the norm, however. In a typical Japanese RPG, the party tends to be made up of a group of idealistic teenagers (with optional "old man" character who is actually simply in his late 20s), at least two of whom will be childhood friends; at least two of whom will fall in love with one another; at least one of whom will be a moody bastard who grows to understand human kindness and friendship by the end of the story; and at least one of whom will be a demure, shy girl while another will be a borderline-inappropriately sexy girl in a teeny-tiny skirt. This kind of ensemble works well, which is why we see it so often, particularly in popular franchises such as Final Fantasy.

Not so in Shadow Hearts. In Yuri, we have a moody protagonist, sure, but he's angsty because he can turn into monsters. Also he's half Russian, which explains why he hails from Japan but has a name which is commonly used to refer to lesbian-themed content in Japanese. (His name also means "lily" in Japanese, which might explain why he's so upset and surly. Although if we take "Yuri" to be the Russian half of his name, then that means "farmer", which is a bit more manly.) Then in Alice we have the shy, demure girl, but she's clad in what can only be described as an incredibly impractical outfit which precludes her from ever volunteering to bend over and pick anything up ever. She's also English. I've never met any English girls who dress like that. But then I wasn't alive in 1913, either.

Aside: not only does Shadow Hearts take place in the "real world" (albeit a real world with magic and demons and vampires and whatnot), it also takes place in recognisably "recent" (relatively) history, meaning we get a pleasing blend of low-tech fantasy-style stuff with the trenchcoats and Mauser pistols of the World War I-ish era.

But back to the cast. We also have a crotchety old Chinese oracle who calls people "son of a bitch" all the time and a friendly vampire called Keith (Keith?) who woke up from a 200 year slumber only to find himself bored stiff with nothing to do in his monster-infested castle. There may be more, but I haven't got that far yet. Already it's a memorable, bizarre cast, though the game nails the whole "suspension of disbelief" thing so well that it seems perfectly natural for this oddball group to be hanging out together while discussing the movements of the Japanese army.

Shadow Hearts is a slow burn that takes a while to get going. If you've been playing more recent Japanese roleplaying games that tend to be a bit pacier or have battle systems that veer a little closer to "action" (see: Final Fantasy XIII and its sequel, The Last Story and Xenoblade Chronicles to a certain extent) then there's a bit of an adjustment period to get back into random battles and completely turn-based combat. It's also a bit of a culture shock to go back to a game where the dialogue is pretty much all text — though this rekindles the once-common love for renaming your characters; a joy which the age of voice acting has rendered obsolete.

I'm guessing I'm about halfway through at the moment. Further thoughts to follow when I've beaten it.

#oneaday Day 782: Is It Worth Complaining?

I had an interesting discussion on Twitter earlier with Peter Skerritt of Armchair Analysis and Craig Bamford of Leveling Criticism. Peter argued that gamers had made their bed with regard to questionable business practices surrounding downloadable content, preorder bonuses and all of the other annoyances which this particular generation of consoles has developed — that since so many people have bought into these schemes over the last few years that it's now too late to go back, that any sort of "action" is not worth taking, and that anyone feeling the need to speak out about it should understand that doing so will have negligible effect.

Craig, meanwhile, countered that "'shut up and consume' is just greasy", noting that Mass Effect 3's controversial day-one DLC "prompted a huge backlash which the company had to expend serious PR resources to fix."

I'm not going to get back into this specific argument here, but I did want to address some more general points which Peter, Craig and I discussed. Namely, the question of whether or not it's worth complaining about something.

It's easy to complain about things on the Internet. Start a blog or a Twitter account. Rail against anything you find personally objectionable. Talk up the people who agree with you and either ignore the people who disagree or get into very loud and public slanging matches with them. "Internet Rage" is its own meme now, though ultimately the concept of "the Internet being angry at something" has arguably done more harm than good to the concept of actual, genuine protest.

The trouble is that there's an element of bandwagon-jumping. With any kind of disagreement, most people are going to come down on one side of the fence or the other. In the case of Internet arguments, those who are skilled in rhetoric will have very little difficulty in recruiting people for their side, as all it takes, in some cases, is a particularly persuasive YouTube video or an article featuring carefully massaged statistics to get people onside. People are lazy. If you lay an argument out on a plate for them, relatively few of them will have the inclination to go and research things for themselves. 'Twas ever thus, and we even see this in the professional specialist press to a certain degree.

It loses its effect after a while, though. Words are just words, after all, and as any protestor worth their salt will undoubtedly tell you, actions speak far louder than words.

Or do they? I haven't bought Mass Effect 3 but do I think EA give a shit about that fact? No, because a healthy number of people have bought Mass Effect 3, and those are the only people that EA care about. Those are the people that say to EA "what you're doing is acceptable, please do it more." It's not just something that happens in video games. It happens with all sorts of shady business practices. The more people just accept something as "that's the way it is" (houuuuuaaahhh!), the more likely companies are to want to keep pushing the boundaries a little bit further each time, like a toddler trying to figure out exactly how naughty is too naughty, only with millions of dollars instead of plastic things made by Fisher-Price.

Does that invalidate the criticisms that those people who object to it have? Does the fact that, say, EA has no need to take those people's criticisms into account mean that they should stop speaking out against those things which they find unacceptable or distasteful?

Absolutely not. For if those people stop complaining, then we have no dialogue. We have no discussion, no debate. We simply blindly accept, consume, bend over, take it. You may be happy to blindly accept, consume, bend over, take it. You may believe that there are more important things to worry about in the world than whether or not a software company squeezes an extra $10-$20 out of its most loyal fans. You may believe the lines spun by public relations in an attempt to limit the damage done to a brand's reputation. But that doesn't mean that the people who don't feel the same as you should be silenced. State your case. Come out from your corner fighting. You might change their mind — though given my experience of debates like this, you probably won't — or you might at least give them an alternative perspective to consider, even if they ultimately end up feeling the same way.

In short, I believe that yes, it is worth complaining. In the video games case, Peter argued that complacency is what has led consumers to the point they are at now, where buying a $60 game is no longer the end point of the relationship between the customer's wallet and the publisher's pockets — it's the beginning. If that's the case, though, while it may be too late to salvage matters with regards to things like DLC, preorder bonuses, shady sales practices and all manner of other considerations, surely that's a sign that consumers upset by all this should be more vocal in order to preempt publishers attempting to take advantage of them any further in the future?

Those expressing upset and annoyance at what they see as unfair shifts in business practices are now often accused of being "entitled". But that's simply lazy rhetoric. There's a big difference between being "entitled" (typically used in this context to mean "expecting something for free") and having very valid concerns about getting value for money or being treated fairly as a consumer. In the Mass Effect 3 case, no-one's expecting something for free. They want to pay for the game, to support the developer, but they don't want to be treated like idiots and/or bottomless cash pits in the process. Personally speaking, I don't think it's unreasonable or "entitled" to expect a complete product when you hand over your money for it. But, well, we've been over that already and I know far too well how futile it is for both sides to try and convince the other of their viewpoint.

The point: complaining or protesting may not have a direct or immediate effect. But it ensures that we continue to discuss, debate and consider things a little more carefully than we would otherwise if there was a complete consensus of opinion. It keeps things interesting, it prevents people from becoming too complacent and it allows people to retain their individuality rather than being treated as an amorphous mass of identical, anonymous "consumers".

Sounds better than the alternative to me. But then you probably disagree. In which case you're wrong, you entitled twat.

#oneaday Day 780: Nihon

It's a big ol' stereotype for someone who is "into" video games to have an interest in Japan — at least it was, anyway. As popular, mainstream titles have shifted far more towards Western studios with this current console generation, Japan and all things related seem to have been relegated to something of a niche. And that's absolutely fine, I think, because it means that people like me can explore things like the country's culture without feeling like they're jumping on some sort of bandwagon.

I say "explore". Most of my knowledge of Japanese culture comes from, you guessed it, video games. (That and following J-List on Facebook.) But before dismissing that out of hand, it's worth noting that many Japanese games do explore and celebrate Japanese culture and traditions in a way that you hardly ever see in Western titles.

I can remember the first game I played in which I was conscious of this: Shenmue on the Dreamcast. I found it interesting that the main character removed his shoes every time he entered his house. Not only was this a pleasing attention to detail, I discovered that this is traditional behaviour. And given that Shenmue was based very much on the idea of creating a realistic, small-scale game world in which to "live" as much as pursue the game's story, this was just one of many things which initially jarred but started to make sense the more time I spent with them.

The Persona series are notable for this, too. To date, I've only played Persona 3 and 4 (and have recently started the first game in the series) but I feel I got a good sense of what it's like to be a high school kid in Japan — or at least, as close an interpretation as the media will ever give you. I do wonder if the depiction of Japanese schoolkids in anime and video games is akin to the depiction of American "highschoolers" in TV shows and movies like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Clueless.

From these games and numerous others (including Katawa Shoujo which, interestingly, was actually developed by Westerners who clearly had a good understanding of Japanese culture) I've picked up all sorts of useless facts (mostly centring around schools) which may come in handy should I ever find myself in Nihon-koku. I know that schools have big shoe racks inside their front doors. I know that kids are expected to join clubs as well as attend classes. I know that traditional festivals with fireworks are A Big Deal, and that boys supposedly go crazy for girls in yukata. Boys also go crazy for girls in hot springs. I know that udon and soba are types of noodles, and that takoyaki is both made from octopus and regarded as a kind of fast food. (I also know that your stats have to be high enough to finish a big beef bowl, but the same could be said for a big-ass steak in the West.) Moving into more esoteric territory, I know that popular supernatural mythology suggests that restless spirits often hold grudges and can do very unpleasant things to people who piss them off.

It strikes me every time I play one of these Japan-centric games (the most recent being Persona and Corpse Party) that it's rare to see an analogous "learning experience" in Western games. Or is it? Perhaps I'm just too immersed in Western culture on a daily basis to notice; or perhaps Western culture has lost a lot of its traditions over the years, leaving most people free to behave in a manner of their own choosing. Consider what you did when you walked into your house today: did you take your shoes off? The answer is "maybe", because it wasn't expected (unless you have a self-decided "shoes off household") so it was up to you.

We still have plenty of strange traditions of our own, though, mostly, like Japan, surrounding significant festivals. Look at Christmas: we have carol singers, German markets in city centres, mulled wine, mince pies, midnight mass, christingles and all manner of other things. We have very specific rituals in place to celebrate things like birthdays. We cheer when waiting staff drop trays of drinks (though I really wish we wouldn't), and we have songs for all occasions.

As I think about it further, it's becoming clearer to me why there's something of a tendency to see comparatively less traditional culture in Western video games than we do in Japanese ones. It's to do with subject matter and setting: Japan is very fond of mixing the mundane and the uncanny for dramatic and unexpected effect, whereas in the West we're rather fond of "hero"-type characters who focus on getting the job done, not pissing around building up his Social Links. This is a generalisation, of course — there are plenty of games that involve a lot of sitting around talking, though even then they tend to be through a self-deprecating lens rather than taking a genuine pride in traditional culture. When was the last time you saw an English character (i.e. someone from England, and not just a character with an English accent) who was not either 1) evil or 2) posh — or sometimes both?

Perhaps there's no place for traditional culture or ritual in Western video games — or no traditional culture or ritual left in our modern society to even incorporate into a game. That's fine, of course, though I think it rather sad, in that case, that we have the opportunity to learn a great deal about Japanese culture from their creative output, while any Japanese players exploring the Western body of work will arguably take little from it save "nice architecture".

Am I wrong? If so, please feel free to share some of your favourite examples of video games that exemplify Western culture, tradition and ritual in the comments — I'd be curious to hear what people think, or even, if they don't think it's relevant, why they don't care.

#oneaday Day 779: Snark Pit

I've kind of had it with snark. The whole "let's piss on everything" parade that shows up any time something vaguely interesting or cool happens is getting really rather tiresome, and over the last few weeks and months I've actually been taking steps to minimise my exposure to it by simply unfollowing people on Twitter who prove to be irritants in this fashion. (British game journos, you don't come off well in this poll, by the way, naming no specific names.)

Unfortunately, on a day like today, which held among other things the promise of a hotly-anticipated iPad-related announcement from Apple (which turned out to be "The New iPad" with its shiny retina display and quad-core processor… yum) it's difficult to avoid said snark. It seems that for a lot of people nowadays that if something isn't to your own personal preference, then no-one should enjoy it.

At this point I'll say that I'm well aware I've been guilty of this in the past, and for that I apologise. (The X-Factor is still unquestionably shit, though. There is no valid argument in favour of a show that gave the world Jedward. I'm just not going to rant at length about the subject any more.) I am trying my best these days to see arguments from both sides, but unless you're some sort of level 99 mediator, you're always going to come down on one side or another. So long as you don't force your views on others and expect everyone to agree with you, everyone should be free to do that. (Unless it's about something dickish. I think we can pretty much universally agree that those who judge people based on skin colour or sexual orientation can all pretty much just bugger off and sit on a spike.)

I digress. I was talking about snark, and specifically relating to today's Apple announcements. The new iPad is, by all accounts, a lovely-looking device, and the Retina display is sure to raise some eyebrows. As per usual for an Apple event, the company came out with its usual stuff about how it believed we were entering a "post-PC" era and about how people supposedly "preferred gaming on their iPad" to consoles and computers.

Contentious comments, for sure, but firstly, they're marketing hyperbole — Apple announcements are press events, after all, and a company as big as Apple is never going to be humble about its achievements or lofty ambitions — and secondly, it might not be quite so unreasonable as you think. Already many households are making use of iPads for simple tasks such as browsing the Web, checking email, watching TV and movies, playing games, keeping themselves organised and all manner of other things. And the sheer number of people who have downloaded Angry Birds, whatever you may think of it (I hate it) should give you pause when considering the gaming-related comments.

But instead of thinking these points through rationally and considering the perspective that Apple might have been coming from, in it was with the snark about how wrong Apple was and how much bullshit they were talking. Up went the defensive walls, and a veritable barrage of snark was fired over the parapets towards anyone who dared to say "hmm, hang on, that's actually quite interesting, and possibly plausible". (I'm not saying their comments were true, rather that they deserved greater consideration than immediate outright dismissal.)

It only continued when, as usually happens in Apple announcement events, software started to be shown. The new versions of iMovie and GarageBand for iOS drew particular ire, with various Twitter users making acidic comments about how awful the music people makes with GarageBand supposedly is, and how terrible the "movie trailers" facility of iMovie is.

Once again, no consideration was given to the audiences that these features might be directed at. As a former employee of the Apple Store, let me assure you there is absolutely no love lost between me and the tech giant of Cupertino, so I have no "need" or contractual obligation to defend them — and also, a company the size of Apple certainly doesn't need my defence either. But as a former employee, I know that Apple customers aren't just high-falutin' creative types, gadget freaks, tech snobs and people with more money than sense. I know that people who walk through the front door of that store range from very young to very old; from experienced computer user to complete beginner. I know that there's a considerable proportion of that audience who came to Apple because of its products' reputation of ease of use. I've even taught plenty of those people how to achieve simple tasks in products such as iMovie and GarageBand, and to see the looks on their faces when they realised that yes, they could be creative with their computers despite their lack of technological knowhow was, to use a word Apple itself is very fond of, magical.

As such, I feel it's grossly unfair and downright blinkered for people (including professional commentators in some situations) to completely dismiss a considerable proportion of Apple's audience and declare a feature to be "awful" or "crap" simply on the grounds that they don't see the appeal, or think that its results are cheesy. (They are, but imagine if you had no idea how to edit a video and suddenly discovered you could put together a slick-looking movie trailer from your holiday footage and upload it to the Internet. You'd be pretty stoked, and you wouldn't care that it was a bit cheesy. If you were inspired by this ease of use, you might even look into the subject further to find out how to take more control over the stuff you were creating.)

I'm using Apple as an example today since the announcement is still pretty fresh in everyone's mind. But the presence of snark can be found pretty much any time something interesting is announced or discussed, especially in the tech or gaming industries. You can count on there being an unfunny hashtag pun game mocking the story within a matter of minutes; endlessly-retweeted "jokes" trying to look clever; and, of course, protracted slanging matches any time someone calls these people out on it.

And, you know, I've had enough. If you have a valid criticism of something, by all means share it and back up your point. But if you have nothing to say other than "I think this is crap, therefore everyone else should too" then kindly keep it to yourself. Because, frankly, your opinion isn't anywhere near as important as you think it is.

#oneaday Day 778: Corpse Party: A (Spoiler-Free) Scoreless Review

I'm glad this game exists. It's a pleasing piece of evidence to point to when people start talking about subject matter which would "never get greenlit by a publisher". It exists. It was greenlit by someone. It's freely available to download to your PSP or Vita via PSN. It's horrific. And it's brilliant.

Corpse Party tells the story of a hapless group of schoolkids who botch an attempt to commune with the spirit world and find themselves trapped in a long-abandoned elementary school populated with rather unfriendly ghosts. It's then up to the player to help the group (who quickly become separated in true horror movie fashion) to understand the truth behind what's going on and return them to safety. It all gets very Japanese horror very quickly — if you've seen anything like Ju-on: The Grudge or played Fatal Frame you'll know the sort of thing to expect.

Unfolding like a cross between a visual novel and a top-down 16-bit RPG, Corpse Party manages to keep the player feeling involved in the action while keeping the story flowing at a good pace. Oftentimes the player's only contribution between important events will be moving the current player character (for there are several) to a new location, but that simple act, along with the ability to examine items in the environment such as creepy notices on the walls and corpses of previous unwitting visitors to Heavenly Host Elementary School, makes the game feel far more interactive than many visual novel titles, which typically involve tapping the "continue" button lots of times. There's plenty of that, too, sure, but mild exploration and puzzle elements make this feel much more like a "game" to those who care about that sort of thing.

It's worth noting at this point that far from taking the relatively "straight line to the finish" approach that many visual novels take, Corpse Party gets increasingly easy to balls up completely as you proceed. Rather than simply immediately ending with a "Game Over" screen for making a bad choice, however, sometimes the butterfly effect of actions you take doesn't become apparent until an hour or two later. This is a double-edged sword; it turns "making a mistake" into an "alternative ending", even going so far as to credit the player with this ending in the menu screens, but it also means having to replay previous events, figure out what you did wrong and then do something differently. And God help you if you didn't make full use of the five available save slots per chapter. Fortunately, though, each of the game's five chapters is relatively short, with the final one being the longest at around three hours, meaning that replaying a whole chapter is not as much of a chore as it could be — though the game could really do with that mainstay of traditional visual novel interfaces: the "skip" button.

While it's relatively easy to get on to a "bad ending" path, particularly later in the game, this actually isn't something to get too frustrated about, for some of the most intense, morbidly fascinating and emotional scenes come about as a result of these "Wrong Ends", as the game calls them. Sometimes these are subtle changes to events in the supposed "true" ending for each chapter that mean hope turns to tragedy. Sometimes these endings result in horrible deaths for one of more of the main characters. Sometimes they result in revelations about the characters that you wouldn't find out about otherwise. Pretty much all bar a couple of "you were caught by a Bad Thing, you die" incidents are worthwhile and substantial narrative events in their own right, making discovering all of the story's possible endings — good and bad — something of a metagame in itself.

The game's story and the emotional power behind it is helped by a fantastic translation from the Japanese coupled with some truly excellent, emotionally charged Japanese-language voice acting. Even if you don't speak Japanese, you'll want to let the fully-voiced dialogue run its course, as it's packed with convincing expressions of emotion. (Oh, and you'll want to wear headphones while playing. The game features some of the most unsettling use of stereo effects I've ever encountered, along with a kickass soundtrack.) Characters laugh, cry, scream in terror and generally act in an incredibly realistic manner given the situation they find themselves in. Certain incidents which occur also show that being in a horrific, seemingly inescapable situation doesn't make the cast immune to things like your body letting you down at the worst possible moment, or your own feelings towards another person. Despite its supernatural core, Corpse Party's tale is a very human one, examining the relationships between all the members of its main cast and leaving the player feeling like they know most of them very well by the end of the story.

But that doesn't mean that the horror side of things is toned down. Far from it. Despite its retro-style presentation, this is likely one of the most disturbing, unsettling games you'll ever play. It doesn't hold back. This game puts its characters through some of the most unimaginable suffering possible in the name of evoking an emotional response from players, and it's all the better for it. Story is conflict, and through conflict people grow and change — sometimes for the better, sometimes worse. The fact that the characters are children drives home the fact that tragedy can happen to anyone, and the way in which we react to horrific situations can make a big difference to what happens to us next. It's a powerful tale, for sure, and even the most strong-stomached will struggle not to wince at some of the acts described throughout the course of the game's narrative.

Note that I say "described" and not "seen", for Corpse Party understands that most fundamental tenet of horror — the most terrifying things are not the most spectacularly gory things presented to the viewer on a plate, but the things in their imagination. As such, many of the game's strongest, most disturbing scenes are depicted entirely through text, colour flashes and sound effects. The understated manner in which various unpleasant incidents are coolly relayed to the player makes them all the more powerful, for it's at these moments that the imagination comes into play, filling in the blanks about what is not described as much as picturing what is described. It's a potent demonstration of the huge difference that having people who know what they are doing work on a game's script makes.

Corpse Party isn't a long game, and it won't take you long to beat all five chapters. There's plenty of incentive to replay, though, including discovering all the possible endings — good and bad — as well as a series of smaller "extra chapters" that fill in other events which are occurring alongside the main plot. There's also a bunch of student ID tags to collect throughout the course of the game, providing details on previous visitors to Heavenly Host who weren't so lucky, including how they died. It's a diverting little side mission which is integrated nicely into the theme of the game rather than feeling like a gratuitous addition. Since the PSP doesn't have a Trophy system, it's clear that these tags haven't just been added to fill out the Trophy list; they're instead present to provide context and atmosphere to an already creepy and impactful game.

So should you play Corpse Party? If you're a fan of story-based games and Japanese horror, then yes, you most certainly should. There's more than enough content to get your £11.99 worth in this game, and despite a couple of niggling flaws (the lack of a "skip" button when replaying scenes being the most disappointing oversight) it's a memorable, emotional experience that will stay with you long after it's finished.

#oneaday Day 776: The Pile of Shame, March 2012 Edition

Over at the Squadron of Shame, our original remit was to go through all those games in your "pile of shame" — titles you bought but never quite seem to get around to due to something bigger, better, fancier coming along. As time has passed, we've changed and grown, discussing wider gaming issues and exploring unconventional games such as Katawa Shoujo, but all the while the Pile has been there, mocking us.

For 2012, one Feenwager among us decided that it might be a good time to start tackling said Piles, with the caveat that you can stop working your way through your backlog should something massive and awesome come out. For many people, this is Mass Effect 3, due out this week, though I won't be touching it with a barge pole for reasons I will expand upon in a post in a few days' time.

I have a pretty big backlog, so I thought what I might try and do is add an additional little twist to said challenge: to see if it's possible to get through the remainder of the year without purchasing any "triple-A" titles from publishers such as EA, Activision, Ubisoft and the like. Basically anything that gets talked about so much prior to release that I'm already sick of the sodding thing by the time the discs hit store shelves (or not, in the case of new EA titles and GAME.)

In short, I can purchase downloadable, retro or smaller-budget games if absolutely necessary, but no Call of Duty, no Assassin's Creed, no Mass Effect. To be fair, I don't think this will be very difficult to achieve.

I am allowing myself one exception to this rule: Diablo III, and it's perhaps arguable as to whether or not this counts as a "triple-A" game anyway as despite its (hopeful) quality, it's PC-only and a little bit niche, if we're being honest. The reason I bring up Diablo III as an exception to my self-imposed rules is because I have friends who live in the same country as me who are planning on playing it, and it would be lovely to be able to play something multiplayer without having to stay up until 3 in the morning for once. (I don't begrudge staying up until 3 in the morning, North American friends, it's just nice to get some sleep sometimes!)

So then, my official rules are "get through the remainder of 2012 without purchasing any triple-A PC or console titles and clear as much of your Pile of Shame as possible".

I am currently using this challenge as an opportunity to explore the PSP's rich library of JRPGs, as after finishing The Last Story I find myself hungry for more JRPG action. As you may have gathered from yesterday's post, I'm currently playing through Corpse Party. This will be followed by Persona on PSP and possibly Shadow Hearts on PS2 alongside it. I will not be playing Mass Effect 3 at all.

Here's my current Pile of Shame. If you're comparing this to previous Piles I may have posted and it seems somewhat different, I'm not including games I've given up all hope of playing to completion, and neither am I including games which have "indefinite" play periods such as arcade games, multiplayer titles and, to a lesser extent, strategy games. Any entries on the list marked with a dollar sign are games that I don't own yet but have been intending to purchase for quite some time, so they're on the Pile even though I don't own them yet.

To follow all our progress and take part for yourself, join us on the Squadron of Shame Squawkbox.

PS2
Killer7
ICO
Shadow of the Colossus
Metal Gear Solid 3
Odin Sphere
Persona 3 FES
Shadow Hearts
Shadow Hearts: Covenant
$ Yakuza 2
Project Zero (aka Fatal Frame)
$ SMT: Digital Devil Saga
$ SMT: Digital Devil Saga 2

PS3
3D Dot Game Heroes
Demon’s Souls
Dark Souls
Yakuza 3
$ Yakuza 4
Midnight Club LA

PSP
Corpse Party (currently playing)
$ Persona
$ Persona 2: Innocent Sin
$ Persona 3 Portable (this may replace Persona 3 FES in the above list)
$ Trails in the Sky

Xbox 360
Rayman Origins

PC
Amnesia
Aquaria
Assassin’s Creed II
Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood (OnLive)
Breath of Death VII
Chantelise
Cthulhu Saves the World
Far Cry 2
$ Fortune Summoners
GTA: San Andreas
GTA IV
GTA IV: Episodes from Liberty City
Hacker Evolution
Hacker Evolution: Untold
HeXen II
Hard Reset
Jade Empire
King’s Bounty
King’s Bounty: Armored Princess
King Arthur: The Role-Playing Wargame
Magicka (Squad multiplayer sometime, hmm?)
Mata Hari
Neverwinter Nights 2
Portal 2 Co-Op
Puzzle Agent
Sherlock Holmes vs Jack the Ripper
Sherlock Holmes: Nemesis
Sherlock Holmes: The Awakened
Sherlock Holmes: The Mystery of the Mummy
Sherlock Holmes: The Mystery of the Persian Carpet
Sherlock Holmes: The Secret of the Silver Earring
Take On Helicopters
Thief: Deadly Shadows
Time Gentlemen, Please!
TRAUMA
Trine
Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines
VVVVVV
X-COM Apocalypse (and possibly the previous two)
Baldur’s Gate II (inc. Throne of Bhaal)
Gabriel Knight 3
Ghost Master
Master of Magic
Ultima Underworld
Ultima Underworld II
$ Ultima VII

Wii
Silent Hill: Shattered Memories
Zack & Wiki