Some things, they be happening.

It's time for one of those posts with no particular point, which very few will read, and those that do have been stricken with some form of unfathomably overpowering stretch of "bored time". I'm going to, selfishly as always, speak about myself.

My folks are moving from the home I grew up in. A beautiful, homely spot on Lake Michigan and features a stretch of unfathomably beautiful beach. Beach that I've grown up aside, that my friends have grown with. The very same beach that our first dog, Nonnie, would wade through to retrieve thrown branches which she would proceed to keep for herself or instigate a game of tug-o-war with.

Nonnie's son and our current dog, Momo, still lives. He's badly arthritic and the beach has provided him with moments of weightless fetching bliss. Next time I descend the stairs on this lazy summer, I've gotta remember to take him down to the beach.

I'm not sad, that wouldn't adequately explain it--sadness too often implies dormancy. My folks, after all, are moving in part so that they can afford to put my brother and I through incredible schools. I feel like it's time. I feel ready. I only hope my parents do, too.

It's an odd goodbye, encircled by qualities of "moving on", passing through and accepting drastically different life for my siblings, my parents and I. We're all moving onto new wakes of life: Jon in his intense academics and looming (inevitable, it would seem) Law School days, Emily and her travels, graduation and, of course, some sort of graduate work.

Even I have begun to feel the motion. Alby--the ultimate procrastinator, the youngest child, he who reluctantly left the comforts of the womb, he who constantly stops to smell the flowers neglecting the hairs on his chin or the mounting college loans. Even that guy has been swept away by Lake Memories, into the sweeping, foaming gestures of what's to come. And hell, all I know is institutional academic ladders. Everyone's gotta have a backup plan, sometimes they even end up being the backbone of dreams.

On the maturty of "Video Games", Culture, Industry, and... "babes"?

The fact is, there's a double standard in gaming journalism that really frustrates me: there's constant editorial materials suggesting that "we"--loosely defined, would like to be taken more seriously as an art form. The comparison made is usually television, movies, music and various forms of literature. In those very same venues you'll see pieces... See More touting the hilarity of harassment, the amusing aspects of chauvinism and enough referential and inside humor to make the average person gag when they so much as glance at a "video games" magazine or blog. I"m not saying this is fair or unfair--problematic, just sad and indicative of lack of progress and complacency. Want to be taken seriously by the critics of old? Want your girlfriend to become involved with games? Well then why the hell do we relish in the rubbish that consists of the majority of the coverage. Why do we put up with what most consider objectification of women? (I'm not here to debate that), or the dismissing of violence (video games are, yes, often needlessly violent with little to no narrative!). So until the demand for intelligent games and the subsequent and transitive journalism arrives, "gaming" culture will remain under the veil of being "low-brow". It's frustrating as hell, it undermines a lot of hard working people, and it's about time we moved on.

In reality, I'm beginning to sincerely doubt (hell, I've all but moved on from) the idea that video game culture will ever be seen as artistic, high brow or even serious at all. When things to finally snap into place--much like "motion pictures" and television before it, we'll call it something else and the audience will be entirely different. The diversification elements are already beginning to take hold: more often than not those that own Wiis do not relate to, or even know much about game development or that some people consider 360 and PS3 competitors. This is because common, everyday people think "video games"--as defined by it's journalists, are in the same place it was three decades ago in terms of dignity as an art form--and I'm inclined to agree.

Sure, games have moved on, developers too. We've appreciated games with more and more engrossing and well-told narratives, explored controversial issues, seen beautiful pictures and listened to epic scores, but video games are still largely poorly re-told stories with hopefully an above average interactive component to save the day. In my opinion, exceptions are, and have, occurred--but there's a reason for every groupthink public mentality. So we're a niche, then, let's recognize that and start argument from a realistic viewpoint. Not only is gaming journalism and it's participants a tiny, tiny cultural niche--we're in constant disagreement and often fall back on unintelligent and easy solutions to debates which we could very well participate and succeed in. So in this journalism student's opinion, yes, booth babes diminish and degrade the industry and art form (read: NOT the women, it's a lucrative job and these sorts of employment opportunities are great, and are in many cases empowering, etc). But Video Games are important to me, I'll shamelessly say that, and many will not, and there's a reason why people are publicly ostracized in public for it when saying your a movie buff is met with fist bumps and shoulder pats. I'm not on some mission to save the day--I know things won't change all at once.

But these are important issues to me, and I'm not apologetic about that. interactive entertainment is markedly important to me, I was raised with it's stories, and it's communities have taught me so, so much. So it's not some moral crusade. Like quite a few of you I'm offended--not because I find booth babes morally capricious and tainted or unfair to women, but because I'm tired of having to be a closet gamer. I'm tired of unintelligent games, unintelligent gaming press, unintelligent and face level argument and most of all--I'm tired of seeing brilliance turned into dust over nothing because of simple perceptions, poorly thought out behavior and perhaps most importantly lack of forethought. I'm now 21 and look at "gaming" and see a child, whereas I've grown into a man. That's a problem.

I'd like to be a better Listener.

Listening is so damn important. I spent the formative years of my life a quiet type, not particularly social, but the friends I had were quite dear to me. Back then, I wasn't a talker. Most of my relationships were formed around being the open ear, the shoulder to lean on.

At some point, I began to feel exploited. Perhaps this is too negative a term, what I mean to say is: in the rare occasion that I wanted to express myself in return, their attention was elsewhere. The misappropriation of anger occurs here when I decided to blame those who confided in me as opposed to myself, for not recognizing the open ear is a commodity of sorts, an invaluable one. That it was not "exploitation", and I derived, and developed just as much or more than those confidants throughout those relationships.

So in my years of rebellion and adolescence, I became bitter. I stopped listening to most everyone, with some rare exceptions. I became a user of people, inadvertently. For this I hold no regret, as it helped me gain self-confidence, repose myself as someone who was not only socially capable, but attractive in the superficial sense, something that everyone wants in some way or another (feel free to argue me here, in fact--I encourage it, as it would help me learn).

So it was that I began down a path of artificiality, of half-relationships, drug abuse and stunted growth. Albeit, these were not new habits by any means. I've always had tendencies towards agoraphobia and distance. When coupled with addiction to media stimuli and it's proprietor: faineance--addictions undoubtedly shared with many of my sort in growing up, by the time I'd grown up and out of home, I found myself lost and in a state of total disarray.

I owe a very specific friend of mine for reminding me I'd become less of a listener, you know you you are and I love you. It was not just him, however, it was all my wonderful friends--thank you.

Although I've already run the risk of making this sound, ironically, like a loud and sappy diary, I'd like to get to the point. I'd love to, and am making progress towards, becoming a good listener again. Hopefully having gained at least a moderate amount of wisdom along the way. Life will keep kicking my ass one day and blessing me the next, I just damn well be able to hear the cries, blatherings, demands and beautiful chatter of those around me while it does.

So note to self: listen. never, ever forget to listen.

The Reddest, Deadest Redemption for Gamers Yet

Scoff away at the title, I am absolutely floored by this "game". Bearing in mind, I've probably spent more time watching it than actually playing myself.

The sound direction, the animation, the very concise and followable plot line in a damn sandbox game? That's all I've been ****ing waiting for. Finally--stylish combat, reputable, straightforward storytelling, the works. All this and the freedom you get from Saintstheftfable: Fallouteffect, minus hours of virtual bullshit gamers seem to willingly put themselves through day after day. Here's a game that doesn't feel like a chore, and is the paradigmatic example of how game design philosophy should progress: the ideal refinement of a formula, a step-up which cannot be neglected by the likes of other game developers.

The non-literal variety of bullshit, fortunately, is hard to come by in Redemption. Between the outright grittiness (yes, there's a minor, and tastefully done film grain in some settings), and style that just dodges realism and uncanny valley, the game is certainly beautiful to look at. Any spectator or even armchair culture snob will admire Rockstar's refusal to go entirely spaghetti western and their tasteful forwardness in presenting politically insensitive issues.

I digress. Not a hard path given the plethora of meta-games offered within Redemption. There's so much to love, historical homage and parody here specifics are best left to the experience itself.


What it does right: the bounty system and countless mini-games, side-missions and money making methods, the morality system that isn't totally idiotic and binary/limiting.

On top of all this, they use a combination of Euphoria, animation blending and motion capture to give the most physical and immersive "presence" within the game world I've yet to see. There are times when the game surprises me over fourteen hours in--I'll be riding along the prairie and NPCs are dueling or fending crops from rabbits--wolves may even be chasing someone. And with every [ahem, *fun*] side-step taken, an equally nice monetary and resource based reward is given. The three fold resources, cash, and, in the case of RDR (fame, honor or dishonor) and materials collected right from the game world--skinned pelts, herbs, clothing scraps and so forth.

Everything has been done right. I seriously am astonished. Excuse me while I start poopsocking and shut off my cell phone service. This may be the best game of this console generation--by a long shot. If games were not art before, they surely are now, and if the Ebert and his merry pranksters grovel on, we can at least be certain that here is a product that contains a great deal of art. The game has it's own style, it's own pace. A rhythm that's not just addicting and engaging as a shooter, "sandbox" or RPG--but touches on and topples just about every genre it borrows from.

Competent gun play, well acted and thought out storyline, adherence to a unique and compelling aesthetic, near perfect physics/scripting/animation, RPG elements and side-missions which rival the likes of Bethesda and Bioware, yet lack the droning dialog, interrupting scripting and cinematic, and Xtreme facial zoom of Beth/Bio/J RPGs? Yes, let's ****ing do this.

As a side note: I wasn't a GTA4 fan, nor am I really much of a Rockstar gamer at all (GTA 2/3/Vice are the exceptions). I am not a Bioware/Obsidian RPG kind of guy, either. I haven't bothered with a damn sandbox or open world RPG since Vice City because, quite frankly, they've all been dreadfully boring.

I'm admittedly a sucker for the Fable series. I'm also a bit of a gamer-lite these days, so give me some leeway here. RDR runs big stallion-galloped circles around Fable and then shits on it's face a couple times just to rub it in.

Let's face it:

Red Dead Revolver is raising the bar, Valve. Episode 3 better be a stunner, console gamers are being spoiled! (I realize these games are not, and never will be of the same genre or in competition--but I can say for a fact that I'm already enjoying this game immensely more than I enjoyed the Half-Life 2 episode(s).

It's like Rockstar San Diego hired all the non-aspie game devs and enslaved them into producing something holistic and competent, the first single player game that's hooked me in years, yep--probably been since HL2 or GTA3 that I've felt this sort of rush. Surely the first game worth $60 since the price of games hiked it's lovely self to $60USD. Kudos to RSSA, shame on Rockstar underpaying employees, etc--but I may even write a letter to 'em like I did in the Valve days. What a piece of media.

...Here I was thinking this was just more hyperbole from Seth Schiesel (NYT review)*

"In the more than 1,100 articles I have written for this newspaper since 1996, I have never before called anything a tour de force. Yet there is no more succinct and appropriate way to describe Red Dead Redemption. Rockstar rides again." - Seth Schiesel
May 16th, 2010


Seth, this time you're right...at long last.

So go ahead, be an outlaw prick who kills everyone in sight. You still make Nico (of GTA4 fame, for those who don't know) look like a cardboard cutout and an awful attempt at an immigration rise-to-power crime narrative. No shitty accents, just a Western gentlemen who you cannot help but relate to. He is a man who would kill innocents, but the main plot line ensures the audience that the way you decide to play the character is OK--whether or not you kill and skin ponies and tie old ladies to railroad tracks, save kittens from trees, or play the Clint Eastwood style moral middle ground. Instead of relying on a neutral character in the moments of guided narrative like we saw in Grand Theft Auto 4, a powerful and decided person comes to life through an environment and set of characters which shapes you and dialog that places a believable neuroses on the protagonist, instead of an inexplicable malaise or brashness experienced in similar games when the player's choices conflict with a dominant narrative..


Did I mention they managed to make riding horseback both functional and beautiful? Sorry Ubisoft, but your floaty horsies make my assassin feel more like he's engaged a steed for a cartoonish glide across awkward floaty terrain. In Redemption, the hooves kick up grit, the controller rumbles on rough terrain and the horse wiles, bucks and throws you off until you earn it's respect. They live and die in the game world, sometimes by your own hands. If your horse dies from following down a gorge, you may live, but your consciousness will surely lead to a hasty press of the load button. Sure, you can't actually tame a wild stallion in five seconds or stop a bucking or galloping horse by releasing a button, but I'll forgive them for providing what I consider the game of the decade. Hell, I can't afford a horse right as a poor college student, and Vishnu knows Epona was getting a bit low-poly for a substitute, so here goes another round of deer hunting in the ol' West, I won't forget my rifle or my lasso, tools you'll surely miss venturing outside the game world, as my friend Dan was quick to point out as we watched the morning sun rise after a night long Red Dead Redemption Binge.

If you've been looking for that Western themed game done right, here it is. If you've been looking for the ideal playground, sandbox, shooter, or Role Playing Game--here it is. There's something in Red Dead Redemption undeniably compelling to even the most basic media consumer.

* This non-player character, for instance, caught a friend cheating and challenged our character to a duel, a fun game in itself. Needless to say, the victor of the quick-draw was our player. The politics of returning to the table afterward, however, was a matter of manipulating a group of skeptics after the ultimate double bluff.

Cem, another friend put it best: "honestly, my favorite thing to do in that game... is just fuckin' play Poker"--and I watched him play, cheat, duel and haggle his way into quadrupling his in game money, simply through working the games' various poker tables--and why not? There's no single way to approach this game: from becoming the wealthiest landowner in the southwest to living on the run from every sheriff in the games' seemingly endless world map, yet the visceral experience and primary storytelling leaves audiences with a wholeness rarely delivered by even the most beautifully told linear media experiences.