Have you ever been playing a video game where the universe is ending and only you can save it, but the game still allows you to tool around and do whatever you want until you decide to get around to it? Of course you have, because that seems to be every video game ever.
Lately, I've been playing the new Tomb Raider game by Crystal Dynamics. I have been enjoying it immensely, but there are some things that still bother me. I'm the kind of player who wraps himself up in the story, and I feel the weight and immediacy of the situation. All too often, however, when there is a situation that doesn't seem like it can wait, I'll come across a side activity that will take up some of my time. For example: in the game there is a plane that crashes, and Lara Croft decides that she has to go to the smoke signal to retrieve him and make sure that he's okay, not two minutes into my journey to get to him do I come across an extraneous activity. I understand that the game would have allowed me to do that, and still be able to get to the pilot and have everything play out the same way if I hadn't, but still. I find this kind of thing to be vexing.
Tomb Raider isn't the only game that commits this crime, though. There are many others. It seems that the entire game of Skyrim is built around this principle. The world is ending, and it all starts with the province of Skyrim. Dragons seem to be around every bend, and can drop in on any town. The end times are truly here. "LOL, I'll go and collect Dwemer cogs for that one guy at the Mage's College for whatever reason he asked me to." Things like this should take more precedence in your game experience. I mean, in Skyrim, you can become an assassin, and eventually murder the Emperor. The world is ending and you want to upset the political balance?
However, most games commit another crime of locking things out if you complete the main quest. A game that comes to mind is Batman: Arkham City. I really enjoyed this game, though being one who is not one for completing games 100% I missed out on a few things. What I really liked about Arkham City is how all of the side quests played out. Each one of the side missions centered around a specific Batman villain. There was something going on that Batman had to solve, and it played out with a full story. The down side of the game is that most of these fleshed out side stories are closed off after completing the main game. Why do this? Why force the player to start over again, just to experience these extraneous, but really cool, side missions? This happens in a lot of other games as well, and I don't think that it should. I think that the game should give players total freedom once they have taken the time to beat the main game.
I feel like I talk about Mass Effect 2 a lot here, but it just does so many things right. It is the only game that I've beaten 100%, and yet I still go back to it. Moreover, I find myself discovering new things to do in the game. What ME 2 does right when it comes to side quests, is that the game finds the perfect balance of rewarding the player vs the time spend playing that side quests. Not all of the side quests are that exciting, like when you have to go to some backwater planet just to kill some mechs to recover boxes which only net you a few credits, but the game makes it okay because after each mission you are greeted by the mission summary screen which doubles your collective profit from each activity. It seems ridiculous, but when you finally get around to buying those upgrades, you'll notice the difference in the next firefight. Plus, the side quests make up the majority of the game. Mass Effect 2 is structured around the "Loyalty Missions" for each one of the crew members. The reward for completing these is allowing your crew member to survive the final mission and allowing them to show up in the next game. Another thing that Mass Effect 2 gets right is that it forces the player back onto the main story line after a few side missions here and there. It's a good reminder to the player that they need to constantly be preparing for the final battle with the Collectors. This kind of game structure plays into the building of the character and story, which is awesome. Each one of those missions that takes you away from roaming around the galaxy and helping out your crew really sucks, just because they're so tough, but they remind you of the threat of the Collectors.
The stories in games are usually presented with something that needs to be taken care of immediately, yet often times the games themselves will allow players to lollygag about and take their time. Even in a linear game like Tomb Raider, players can just let something that could very important to the survival of Lara Croft and her friends just sit and wait. That's no good. If you're going to stress to me that there is something that needs to be taken care of right away, make me do it. After all, I'm the "only one who can do it", or you could just put up a timer and not tell the player like Fable III... on second thought, don't do that.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Can't We Just Talk About This?
I am a coward. I don't much care for violence, and I have never been in a fight. Though, to be honest, I'm rather proud that I have never engaged in fisticuffs. In so many video games today, violence seems to be the only viable option for resolving conflict, so when a game comes along that gives me an option to talk my way out of a hairy situation, it's a nice change of pace.
Games like Mass Effect and Fallout have options to avoid confrontations through specific dialogue options. I always tend to pick these over the direct approach of fighting. I love the feeling of being a silver tongued badass. Plus, it saves me on health and resources. The thing with talking your way out of sticky situations, is that it never seems to nab you as much as experience points as it would if one had gone with the "kill everyone" route. Which to me, sends a rather negative message about talking your way out of things and coming to a peaceful solutions? What is a game that does this trying to say about peaceful solutions?
Anyhow, another thing that bothers me about these snake oil salesman options, is me. I never really pay attention to what it is exactly that I, or rather my character, is saying during all of this nonsense. Reason being, is that these options are highlighted with some kind of annotation denoting the effectiveness of what the dialogue option. Rather than reading what it says, my eyes are drawn to the [SPEECH 60] next to whatever dialogue option that I chose. In Mass Effect's case, there are several options throughout the games that are highlighted either red or blue. The text is so small in the first place that I can't even decipher what it was that I said. All I know is that it will get the job done in either a paragon or renegade fashion. Half the time, I don't even remember what it was that good old Commander Shepard said, other than I was left with a small sense of awe and the wish that I could be that cool.
I think that players should really consider what it is that they are saying. Older Bioware games that I've played, such as KOTOR or Dragon Age: Origins, allow for such contemplation. Both of these games present players with many dialogue options, other than just "paragon" or "renegade", because, often in life there is a lot that can be said. I have very fond, or rather stressful, memories playing these games and trying to decide what I could say that would be the best option. What I would say, would ultimately end up deciding the fate of whatever character I was interacting with. The decision came down to me. I felt the gravitas of the situation, and it was crashing me. This is what a game should do, if you're going to have dialogue options. I shouldn't just tilt the control stick up or down as a default to decide between good or bad, morality isn't that binary.
The principle of "think before you speak" should really be encouraged in video games like these. Players should have multiple options and should go over each of them carefully. It's a lot of responsibility being the hero, and what you say matters. I love Mass Effect, but I never stress about what decisions that I make. Sure, my squad-mates could live or die depending on my decisions. However, those decisions only come down to how many points I put into a certain skill bar, and that's only in the first game. The rest of the Mass Effect series streamlines the whole "paragon vs. renegade" system by keeping track of what dialogue choices the player makes. Again, morality is not so binary as to be either good or bad. It is by default in Mass Effect that if I want to be good, I'll choose the top option and the opposite for being the bad guy. I understand that there is a lot of work that goes into both writing, and recording voice acting, but the payoff is so worth it.
Games like Mass Effect and Fallout have options to avoid confrontations through specific dialogue options. I always tend to pick these over the direct approach of fighting. I love the feeling of being a silver tongued badass. Plus, it saves me on health and resources. The thing with talking your way out of sticky situations, is that it never seems to nab you as much as experience points as it would if one had gone with the "kill everyone" route. Which to me, sends a rather negative message about talking your way out of things and coming to a peaceful solutions? What is a game that does this trying to say about peaceful solutions?
Anyhow, another thing that bothers me about these snake oil salesman options, is me. I never really pay attention to what it is exactly that I, or rather my character, is saying during all of this nonsense. Reason being, is that these options are highlighted with some kind of annotation denoting the effectiveness of what the dialogue option. Rather than reading what it says, my eyes are drawn to the [SPEECH 60] next to whatever dialogue option that I chose. In Mass Effect's case, there are several options throughout the games that are highlighted either red or blue. The text is so small in the first place that I can't even decipher what it was that I said. All I know is that it will get the job done in either a paragon or renegade fashion. Half the time, I don't even remember what it was that good old Commander Shepard said, other than I was left with a small sense of awe and the wish that I could be that cool.
I think that players should really consider what it is that they are saying. Older Bioware games that I've played, such as KOTOR or Dragon Age: Origins, allow for such contemplation. Both of these games present players with many dialogue options, other than just "paragon" or "renegade", because, often in life there is a lot that can be said. I have very fond, or rather stressful, memories playing these games and trying to decide what I could say that would be the best option. What I would say, would ultimately end up deciding the fate of whatever character I was interacting with. The decision came down to me. I felt the gravitas of the situation, and it was crashing me. This is what a game should do, if you're going to have dialogue options. I shouldn't just tilt the control stick up or down as a default to decide between good or bad, morality isn't that binary.
The principle of "think before you speak" should really be encouraged in video games like these. Players should have multiple options and should go over each of them carefully. It's a lot of responsibility being the hero, and what you say matters. I love Mass Effect, but I never stress about what decisions that I make. Sure, my squad-mates could live or die depending on my decisions. However, those decisions only come down to how many points I put into a certain skill bar, and that's only in the first game. The rest of the Mass Effect series streamlines the whole "paragon vs. renegade" system by keeping track of what dialogue choices the player makes. Again, morality is not so binary as to be either good or bad. It is by default in Mass Effect that if I want to be good, I'll choose the top option and the opposite for being the bad guy. I understand that there is a lot of work that goes into both writing, and recording voice acting, but the payoff is so worth it.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
The Journey, The Depression, The Struggle
Over the weekend, I went through a break-up of sorts. I say "of sorts" because we weren't actually dating. I had to leave because I was tripping over myself from overthinking everything, and getting down on myself from thinking that I wasn't good enough to wash her feet. This flung me into a downward spiral where I fell back into my state of depression. For a while, I was happy. I was really happy. My life seemed to be on track. Sad to say it, but then I met the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and threw everything else out the window just for her. Never give up on yourself, kids. Well, now that I've gone and left her, I'm doing my best to refocus my efforts on me and where I'm headed. People will tell you that you need to move on. That is the least comforting thing that you want to hear after a break-up of any kind and when your heart feels broken. Even though you know it's the right thing to do, you still feel the need to linger and sit still. It really sucks to be there. I know, I feel like I've been there my whole life, but I know that I'll never get anywhere if I don't move forward.
One game that keeps coming to my mind is Journey for the PS3. Journey is a wonderful experience that is only two hours long, but has an impact that will last a lifetime. A section of Journey in particular that my current situation resembles, is just after the sand surfing, when you fall into the pit. This moment strikes a chord with me, because I was having a blast, but didn't even realize that I was headed downward. Suddenly, I fell. I fell into darkness, and all of those feelings of insecurity, not being good enough, depression, fear, doubt, all came back to me. In Journey, players find themselves surrounded by the darkness. It starts slowly, but is very present. Shafts of light beam down from above. Somewhat like spotlights on a stage. When you enter into them, everything is washed out. There is only you. It kind of feels like when you want to draw attention to yourself in your state of sadness. You want to let people know how you feel, and it seems like no one cares because you can't see them. You don't want to look like a drama queen, or burden them with your sadness, so you leave the spotlight and do your best to press on into the darkness.
As the level progresses, the light starts to fade away, as well as the bits of mystical fabric that help you out. They've left you all alone, and have been replaced by ominous statues of dragons. These dragons tower and loom over you with a dead, and yet dreadful stare. The darkness consumes the screen, nothing is able to be made out. The only thing that stands out is you, and the dragons. THese dragons are kind of like the manifestations of your fears, doubts, and failures. They can't kill you, the game doesn't have a game over screen, but they can hurt you if you let them. When the dragon does spot you, their spot light turns an angry, burning red and charges you with a menacing sound that puts you on edge.You are violently torn away from the path that you were on, and your scarf that you were working so hard to improve and make something of has been torn in half. You let it get to you. You let the dragon tear you apart. You let the past consume you, and you couldn't move on.
But, you can still walk. There is still air in your lungs. There's nowhere else to go but forward. As you press on, doing your best not to let the dragon spot you again, more show up. Two dragons block your path. Again, you press onward. With courage, and desperation, you move as fast as possible to get past these dragons of doubt. Feverishly, you slide past them and make it to your refuge of light that drives the dragons away. You've made it back to solid ground. You're safe.
Getting out of depression is not as easy as the game Journey. Nor is it as quick. It can be over come, and it can be moved through. Sometimes I feel like I am still there in the depths, surrounded by dragons on all sides. Sometimes I feel like my friends don't want to hear me and what I have to say. I feel like I hold on to the past too much, and I can't let go. I call to these dragons, and beckon they come after me. Stress, anxiety, self-consciousness, doubt, fear, anger, depression, obsessions, they all come out in times like these. It is a struggle to make it through these. People who don't understand say to just move on. As much as I hate that phrase, I know that they are right. Journey is important to me, because there is one lesson to be learned from it. JUST. KEEP. MOVING. FORWARD.
When I can manage to put my head on straight long enough to see where I need to go, I get determined. I start writing again. I start making plans to make it to the next step. I keep moving forward. The next day might be different, or I might keep that level of determination. I can never tell sometimes. It's very difficult for me to let go of the past, but I know that it needs to happen. I know that I'm made of stronger stuff than what my anxieties tell me. I know that I can go the distance, and I know that I can make it to where I want to go. It still sucks, though.
The rest of the game represents those next steps. Accurately too. After the darkness, players are bathed in light. Going from shrine to shrine, with depictions of where the player has been. It's good to look back and see how far you've come. It may not seem all that special because you did it, but you did it in a way that only you could have. It may not have been the best, or maybe it wasn't your best effort, but you still managed to get it done. You did the thing! That's something, and you should acknowledge it. You're not worthless. I'm not worthless. Players climb and climb and climb up this tower full of their accomplishments in this short time that is Journey. They see how far they've come, what they've done. New bits of fabric appear, bridges made of light, and friends surround the player, helping them along the way. Your friends support you and your decisions, or they will do their best to help you if you're headed down the wrong path. Good friends, anyhow. Good friends are tough to come by.
Finally, when you reach the top of that tower in Journey, you must face the summit of that mountain that you've been chasing the entire game. It's dangerous, treacherous, and it drains you. It seems like you're barely going to make it, if at all. I can't say what the summit is like, because I'm not there in life yet. I still feel like I've got a long ways to go up the mountain. These dragons keep dragging me down to their level, but only so long as I let them.
Dragons come in many different forms, and they can overpower us at times. There's no shame in reaching out when you don't feel as though you can move on. Whether it is to your friends, family, or to God. Know, that there is always someone there for you and that they want to help.
Journey may be just a two hour game, and for some it may be too 'artsy' for others it's just another pretty face. For me, though, it is something so much more. And I will play it again, and again, until I have reached the top of my mountain.
One game that keeps coming to my mind is Journey for the PS3. Journey is a wonderful experience that is only two hours long, but has an impact that will last a lifetime. A section of Journey in particular that my current situation resembles, is just after the sand surfing, when you fall into the pit. This moment strikes a chord with me, because I was having a blast, but didn't even realize that I was headed downward. Suddenly, I fell. I fell into darkness, and all of those feelings of insecurity, not being good enough, depression, fear, doubt, all came back to me. In Journey, players find themselves surrounded by the darkness. It starts slowly, but is very present. Shafts of light beam down from above. Somewhat like spotlights on a stage. When you enter into them, everything is washed out. There is only you. It kind of feels like when you want to draw attention to yourself in your state of sadness. You want to let people know how you feel, and it seems like no one cares because you can't see them. You don't want to look like a drama queen, or burden them with your sadness, so you leave the spotlight and do your best to press on into the darkness.
As the level progresses, the light starts to fade away, as well as the bits of mystical fabric that help you out. They've left you all alone, and have been replaced by ominous statues of dragons. These dragons tower and loom over you with a dead, and yet dreadful stare. The darkness consumes the screen, nothing is able to be made out. The only thing that stands out is you, and the dragons. THese dragons are kind of like the manifestations of your fears, doubts, and failures. They can't kill you, the game doesn't have a game over screen, but they can hurt you if you let them. When the dragon does spot you, their spot light turns an angry, burning red and charges you with a menacing sound that puts you on edge.You are violently torn away from the path that you were on, and your scarf that you were working so hard to improve and make something of has been torn in half. You let it get to you. You let the dragon tear you apart. You let the past consume you, and you couldn't move on.
But, you can still walk. There is still air in your lungs. There's nowhere else to go but forward. As you press on, doing your best not to let the dragon spot you again, more show up. Two dragons block your path. Again, you press onward. With courage, and desperation, you move as fast as possible to get past these dragons of doubt. Feverishly, you slide past them and make it to your refuge of light that drives the dragons away. You've made it back to solid ground. You're safe.
Getting out of depression is not as easy as the game Journey. Nor is it as quick. It can be over come, and it can be moved through. Sometimes I feel like I am still there in the depths, surrounded by dragons on all sides. Sometimes I feel like my friends don't want to hear me and what I have to say. I feel like I hold on to the past too much, and I can't let go. I call to these dragons, and beckon they come after me. Stress, anxiety, self-consciousness, doubt, fear, anger, depression, obsessions, they all come out in times like these. It is a struggle to make it through these. People who don't understand say to just move on. As much as I hate that phrase, I know that they are right. Journey is important to me, because there is one lesson to be learned from it. JUST. KEEP. MOVING. FORWARD.
When I can manage to put my head on straight long enough to see where I need to go, I get determined. I start writing again. I start making plans to make it to the next step. I keep moving forward. The next day might be different, or I might keep that level of determination. I can never tell sometimes. It's very difficult for me to let go of the past, but I know that it needs to happen. I know that I'm made of stronger stuff than what my anxieties tell me. I know that I can go the distance, and I know that I can make it to where I want to go. It still sucks, though.
The rest of the game represents those next steps. Accurately too. After the darkness, players are bathed in light. Going from shrine to shrine, with depictions of where the player has been. It's good to look back and see how far you've come. It may not seem all that special because you did it, but you did it in a way that only you could have. It may not have been the best, or maybe it wasn't your best effort, but you still managed to get it done. You did the thing! That's something, and you should acknowledge it. You're not worthless. I'm not worthless. Players climb and climb and climb up this tower full of their accomplishments in this short time that is Journey. They see how far they've come, what they've done. New bits of fabric appear, bridges made of light, and friends surround the player, helping them along the way. Your friends support you and your decisions, or they will do their best to help you if you're headed down the wrong path. Good friends, anyhow. Good friends are tough to come by.
Finally, when you reach the top of that tower in Journey, you must face the summit of that mountain that you've been chasing the entire game. It's dangerous, treacherous, and it drains you. It seems like you're barely going to make it, if at all. I can't say what the summit is like, because I'm not there in life yet. I still feel like I've got a long ways to go up the mountain. These dragons keep dragging me down to their level, but only so long as I let them.
Dragons come in many different forms, and they can overpower us at times. There's no shame in reaching out when you don't feel as though you can move on. Whether it is to your friends, family, or to God. Know, that there is always someone there for you and that they want to help.
Journey may be just a two hour game, and for some it may be too 'artsy' for others it's just another pretty face. For me, though, it is something so much more. And I will play it again, and again, until I have reached the top of my mountain.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Music = 1UP
My early experiences with music games goes back to dance dance revolution. There was a game that swept the nations with a funky storm of J-pop and chart topping hits. I had caught DDR fever. I had even gotten pretty good at it, too. I played that game nearly everyday; my high school had one set up that students could play during the lunch hours. I even lost some weight playing that game. Who knows that regular physical activity could yield such a result? Though, as time went on, and the beats got stale, I moved on to other music games.
When I got my PS2, my library was growing rapidly. Along the way, I picked up the game Amplitude. Amplitude was a game by the company Harmonix, who would go on to create Guitar Hero and eventually Rock Band. Amplitude was a game that was unlike anything that I have played before. Each level was a song that had each part of the song (drums, bass, guitar, synth, vocals, etc.) divided up into different tracks. Amplitude taught me rhythm with flashing visuals and a vibrating controller that would pulsate to the beat. The game was so addicting and so cool that I played it religiously. Getting my combos to run the song throughout and try to get the highest score possible on the song was my goal for that game. Though, Amplitudes song would also come to an end.
Harmonix then came out with Guitar Hero. The first of many to enter households everywhere. This game was the one that started it all. Some loved Guitar Hero, while others scoffed at its inability to actually teach guitar. It was never about that, though. Guitar Hero had done something that no other music game before it had done before: it empowered the player. Harmonix is a studio full of musicians, and they wanted to give the thrill of playing music in front of a life crowd to their players. Great songs and the powerful road of the crowd made Guitar Hero an incredible experience. Sure, the plastic guitar was lame, but it was washed away when the volume was cranked up to eleven! And yet, more lame musical peripherals were to come.
In 2007, Harmonix released their masterpiece: Rock Band. A game that could make the least musically inclined people feel like rock stars. All across the land, every rocking band, was blowing up a storm. Now with bass, drums, and vocals, up to four people could rock their living rooms at the same time. Rock Band was the game all of my friends and I were playing through highs school and the following summer. The Rock Band Music Store only added to the insanity with tracks that we absolutely had to have, and the beat went on. Until one day, it stopped.
You don't see many music games anymore. It's troubling. Rock Band was at the pinnacle, and none could dethrone it. Others tried, mainly Guitar Hero (Harmonix's old project). Yet, music games stopped coming. There wasn't a market for them anymore. Those plastic instruments got traded in, or left to collect dust in a closet. Like many great musicians, Harmonix had made a deal with the devil, and his name was Bobby Kotik, president of Activision. Activision is now notorious for killing games, as it is a company that only works for profit. A company with legions of programmers at its disposal, only to make money. Activision was about to claim another, as it had with Tony Hawk: Pro Skater before it, Activision flooded the market with Guitar Hero games that were dwindling in quality, and the people were starting to lose interest. Harmonix had broken off from the tyrannical empire of Activision, which is about when they started working on Rock Band. Once Rock Band was released, Activision knew that they had no chance or competing, so they began to crank out Guitar Hero games on a yearly basis. Until eventually Band Hero was released. This was the nail in the coffin, not only for Guitar Hero and Activisions run with music games, but for the genre as a whole.
With all of the new technology that we have with gaming systems, I can't help but feel as though more could be done with music games than ever thought possible. Harmonix is still at it with dance central and it's use of the Kinect, but it is merely a drop in a very large pond that is filled with 'dark', 'gritty' shooters.
Music is such an integral part of games. So much so that it spawned an entire genre. Music is important, not only to video games, but in life as a whole. We need music to stimulate, comfort, create, express, and do so much more. Music game can inspire those who play them to maybe try their hand at the real thing, or maybe compose some music of their own, or maybe just get up and dance.
When I got my PS2, my library was growing rapidly. Along the way, I picked up the game Amplitude. Amplitude was a game by the company Harmonix, who would go on to create Guitar Hero and eventually Rock Band. Amplitude was a game that was unlike anything that I have played before. Each level was a song that had each part of the song (drums, bass, guitar, synth, vocals, etc.) divided up into different tracks. Amplitude taught me rhythm with flashing visuals and a vibrating controller that would pulsate to the beat. The game was so addicting and so cool that I played it religiously. Getting my combos to run the song throughout and try to get the highest score possible on the song was my goal for that game. Though, Amplitudes song would also come to an end.
Harmonix then came out with Guitar Hero. The first of many to enter households everywhere. This game was the one that started it all. Some loved Guitar Hero, while others scoffed at its inability to actually teach guitar. It was never about that, though. Guitar Hero had done something that no other music game before it had done before: it empowered the player. Harmonix is a studio full of musicians, and they wanted to give the thrill of playing music in front of a life crowd to their players. Great songs and the powerful road of the crowd made Guitar Hero an incredible experience. Sure, the plastic guitar was lame, but it was washed away when the volume was cranked up to eleven! And yet, more lame musical peripherals were to come.
In 2007, Harmonix released their masterpiece: Rock Band. A game that could make the least musically inclined people feel like rock stars. All across the land, every rocking band, was blowing up a storm. Now with bass, drums, and vocals, up to four people could rock their living rooms at the same time. Rock Band was the game all of my friends and I were playing through highs school and the following summer. The Rock Band Music Store only added to the insanity with tracks that we absolutely had to have, and the beat went on. Until one day, it stopped.
You don't see many music games anymore. It's troubling. Rock Band was at the pinnacle, and none could dethrone it. Others tried, mainly Guitar Hero (Harmonix's old project). Yet, music games stopped coming. There wasn't a market for them anymore. Those plastic instruments got traded in, or left to collect dust in a closet. Like many great musicians, Harmonix had made a deal with the devil, and his name was Bobby Kotik, president of Activision. Activision is now notorious for killing games, as it is a company that only works for profit. A company with legions of programmers at its disposal, only to make money. Activision was about to claim another, as it had with Tony Hawk: Pro Skater before it, Activision flooded the market with Guitar Hero games that were dwindling in quality, and the people were starting to lose interest. Harmonix had broken off from the tyrannical empire of Activision, which is about when they started working on Rock Band. Once Rock Band was released, Activision knew that they had no chance or competing, so they began to crank out Guitar Hero games on a yearly basis. Until eventually Band Hero was released. This was the nail in the coffin, not only for Guitar Hero and Activisions run with music games, but for the genre as a whole.
With all of the new technology that we have with gaming systems, I can't help but feel as though more could be done with music games than ever thought possible. Harmonix is still at it with dance central and it's use of the Kinect, but it is merely a drop in a very large pond that is filled with 'dark', 'gritty' shooters.
Music is such an integral part of games. So much so that it spawned an entire genre. Music is important, not only to video games, but in life as a whole. We need music to stimulate, comfort, create, express, and do so much more. Music game can inspire those who play them to maybe try their hand at the real thing, or maybe compose some music of their own, or maybe just get up and dance.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Making Friends in a Digital Wasteland
Recently I purchased Borderlands 2 and its season pass for the Xbox 360. I already own Borderlands 2 and its season pass for the PS3. Why would I go and do something as silly as purchase the same game again but for a different console, especially when Borderlands the Pre-Sequel is coming out? To reconnect with my brother when he lives on the other side of the country, of course.
I've played through Borderlands 2 and all of its DLC with my brother before, and we enjoyed the crap out of it. We did pretty much all of the side quests,, and even decided to do the second run through on the "True Vault Hunter Mode". Though, when he moved away, he didn't have a PS3. We could no longer play Borderlands 2 together, as we played it on splitscreen. When Borderlands was on sale for super cheap on Xbox, my brother leaped at the opportunity, and I quickly followed suit. We could go back to Pandora and shoot the ever-loving crap out of everything together again.
To be honest, I was a bit wary of going through a game that I had already gone through twice. However, all of those fears were washed away with the decision to play a different character. Plus, it's always good to hear from my brother, and play video games with him.
A game can have infinite replay value if it has something that is beyond the game itself. For Borderlands 2, it is the relationship that I have with my brother. The game is a connection that him and I share. Games can be so much more than a challenge, or a story.
All across the globe, millions of people connect over video games. With games like World of Warcraft, Guild Wars 2, DOTA, League of Legends, Team Fortress 2, and many others, people are meeting. People have even married the ones that they have met through video games. Video games are such a prevalent part of our society, that they have become somewhat second nature to us. It is natural for us to log on to our game of choice, and meet up with our friends after school or after work. We make new friends after a good match of Halo, or Counter-Strike. There are other ways to meet people, but there can be something special about that one person you can rely on in a virtual firefight.
I've played through Borderlands 2 and all of its DLC with my brother before, and we enjoyed the crap out of it. We did pretty much all of the side quests,, and even decided to do the second run through on the "True Vault Hunter Mode". Though, when he moved away, he didn't have a PS3. We could no longer play Borderlands 2 together, as we played it on splitscreen. When Borderlands was on sale for super cheap on Xbox, my brother leaped at the opportunity, and I quickly followed suit. We could go back to Pandora and shoot the ever-loving crap out of everything together again.
To be honest, I was a bit wary of going through a game that I had already gone through twice. However, all of those fears were washed away with the decision to play a different character. Plus, it's always good to hear from my brother, and play video games with him.
A game can have infinite replay value if it has something that is beyond the game itself. For Borderlands 2, it is the relationship that I have with my brother. The game is a connection that him and I share. Games can be so much more than a challenge, or a story.
All across the globe, millions of people connect over video games. With games like World of Warcraft, Guild Wars 2, DOTA, League of Legends, Team Fortress 2, and many others, people are meeting. People have even married the ones that they have met through video games. Video games are such a prevalent part of our society, that they have become somewhat second nature to us. It is natural for us to log on to our game of choice, and meet up with our friends after school or after work. We make new friends after a good match of Halo, or Counter-Strike. There are other ways to meet people, but there can be something special about that one person you can rely on in a virtual firefight.
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