I feel bad a bit about this post, because it. Will be whiny. I know there are people who are suffering from cancer, AIDs, hideous deformities, blindness, deafness, missing limbs, and other, equally bad diseases and other conditions. I could have it so much worse. Nonetheless, after the week that I had, I feel I am entitled to complain a bit about my fate. This subject about my life will therefore be about all the ways my life could have been better, physically. Incidentally, I know I have almost no readers, but if I did, I have to ask any women who would ever possibly be interested in me to stop reading about now. If you persist anyway, you have been warned.
Today starts with a fun trip to the dentist office! There, I got my mouth X-Rayed, my gums poked and scraped, and I learned that I had as many as three cavities. Wee! Now, this one was my fault. I hadn't gotten my teeth checked up in years, so I expected some weakness there. Plus, while painful, it was nowhere near as bad as the other things I endured lately...
Because I spent the last three days barely able to walk and frequently in constant pain even when sitting. My back went out, and as a result, my muscles got strained, my hits started hurting, and even my legs ache. I was less deserving of this. I think I pulled a muscle at the gym last Friday, though ironically I think the problem started when I had to skip the normal exercises for much of the week. But this is happening a few times a year now, and it's making me nervous.
At the dentist, meanwhile, I had to fill out forms for things like allergies and medications. Allergies I did have to fill out, because I have ragweed and seasonal allergies, making most of my summers and/or early falls painful. My nose gets clogged, my eyes itch, and it just gets unpleasant. Fortunately, it's not true every year, but it's enough to get annoying. I'm mostly immune to sinus issues otherwise, at least normally. Lately, though, I have a habit of getting really awful colds and sinus infections, and both usually make my throat ruined as well. There are times when I can barely talk with these colds and infections.
As for the medications, I'm mostly fine, save for medications I rarely take for, sigh, my acne. It was horrible and slightly scarring back in late elementary school and junior high, improved slightly afterwards, but didn't really become managed until dermatologist visits some years back. Even so, I get the occasional breakout, though fortunately few on my face. It's not exactly a boost to my social life at the time.
Speaking of embarrassing things that happened as a kid, there were the obligatory braces. That started around 11 and was on and off until I was 14 or so, and even then there were the usual retainers, including at least two "incidents" with one in a garbage. But that's over now! Well, except for the metal wire I permanently have behind my lower jaw. In fact, the difficulty I have flossing back there is one of the reasons my teeth were so bad.
Completing my embarrassing childhood trifecta, there are the glasses. That one started earlier when I turned eight, and my eyes got worst throughout the rest of my schools. The glasses I wore were for the most part of the "dorky" variety, though I did FINALLY switch to contacts by late junior year in high school. Even that was a path of tears (literally.) It took me some months before my sensitive eyes were able to put contacts in, it regularly took me as many as 45 minutes to put the contacts in some mornings, and years later my eyes became increasingly irritated by the contacts or the solutions I used, and often I couldn't wear them for days on ends. I got better in the later years of college, but I didn't finally resolve that issue until a year or two after graduating from college, when I finally used laser eye surgery to resolve the damn things. Ah, knives slicing me open and concentrated radiation piercing my most delicate organs, is there nothing you can't do?
But all three of the traditional "childhood sucks" problems paled in what happened in junior high. It was actually the summer between 7th and 8th grade. I was at a friend's house, I hopped like 1 foot away from my current position, and my knee decided it didn't like this. It ended up quite a distance from where it normally was, and by the time it popped in again, my ligaments in that area were torn. I spent the next six weeks in a knee immobilizer and a good year after that using a leg brace in gym. It could have been far worse if I had any interest whatsoever in sports, but even so, it was a very uncomfortable summer, not to mention the constant physical therapy afterwards. On the plus side, whenever I sucked in gym for a long time, I had a perfect excuse.
I think that's the basics of my physical disappointments. Oh, there are more; the time I was swarmed by bees in high school (I luckily got out of there with only six stings or so,) the time I got a metal pipe jammed into the top of my mouth (totally my fault, but I was six,) and of course the deformed left index finger I got as a baby when I somehow grabbed onto the hot wiring of a lamp (not so bad; it's completely functional and actually looks kind of cool.) But you get the idea. This may of course be one of the reasons I'm a transhumanist; the desire to get your body "fixed" is more pleasant when so many things have been or are broken.
I feel bad a bit about this post, because it. Will be whiny. I know there are people who are suffering from cancer, AIDs, hideous deformities, blindness, deafness, missing limbs, and other, equally bad diseases and other conditions. I could have it so much worse. Nonetheless, after the week that I had, I feel I am entitled to complain a bit about my fate. This subject about my life will therefore be about all the ways my life could have been better, physically. Incidentally, I know I have almost no readers, but if I did, I have to ask any women who would ever possibly be interested in me to stop reading about now. If you persist anyway, you have been warned.
Today starts with a fun trip to the dentist office! There, I got my mouth X-Rayed, my gums poked and scraped, and I learned that I had as many as three cavities. Wee! Now, this one was my fault. I hadn't gotten my teeth checked up in years, so I expected some weakness there. Plus, while painful, it was nowhere near as bad as the other things I endured lately...
Because I spent the last three days barely able to walk and frequently in constant pain even when sitting. My back went out, and as a result, my muscles got strained, my hits started hurting, and even my legs ache. I was less deserving of this. I think I pulled a muscle at the gym last Friday, though ironically I think the problem started when I had to skip the normal exercises for much of the week. But this is happening a few times a year now, and it's making me nervous.
At the dentist, meanwhile, I had to fill out forms for things like allergies and medications. Allergies I did have to fill out, because I have ragweed and seasonal allergies, making most of my summers and/or early falls painful. My nose gets clogged, my eyes itch, and it just gets unpleasant. Fortunately, it's not true every year, but it's enough to get annoying. I'm mostly immune to sinus issues otherwise, at least normally. Lately, though, I have a habit of getting really awful colds and sinus infections, and both usually make my throat ruined as well. There are times when I can barely talk with these colds and infections.
As for the medications, I'm mostly fine, save for medications I rarely take for, sigh, my acne. It was horrible and slightly scarring back in late elementary school and junior high, improved slightly afterwards, but didn't really become managed until dermatologist visits some years back. Even so, I get the occasional breakout, though fortunately few on my face. It's not exactly a boost to my social life at the time.
Speaking of embarrassing things that happened as a kid, there were the obligatory braces. That started around 11 and was on and off until I was 14 or so, and even then there were the usual retainers, including at least two "incidents" with one in a garbage. But that's over now! Well, except for the metal wire I permanently have behind my lower jaw. In fact, the difficulty I have flossing back there is one of the reasons my teeth were so bad.
Completing my embarrassing childhood trifecta, there are the glasses. That one started earlier when I turned eight, and my eyes got worst throughout the rest of my schools. The glasses I wore were for the most part of the "dorky" variety, though I did FINALLY switch to contacts by late junior year in high school. Even that was a path of tears (literally.) It took me some months before my sensitive eyes were able to put contacts in, it regularly took me as many as 45 minutes to put the contacts in some mornings, and years later my eyes became increasingly irritated by the contacts or the solutions I used, and often I couldn't wear them for days on ends. I got better in the later years of college, but I didn't finally resolve that issue until a year or two after graduating from college, when I finally used laser eye surgery to resolve the damn things. Ah, knives slicing me open and concentrated radiation piercing my most delicate organs, is there nothing you can't do?
But all three of the traditional "childhood sucks" problems paled in what happened in junior high. It was actually the summer between 7th and 8th grade. I was at a friend's house, I hopped like 1 foot away from my current position, and my knee decided it didn't like this. It ended up quite a distance from where it normally was, and by the time it popped in again, my ligaments in that area were torn. I spent the next six weeks in a knee immobilizer and a good year after that using a leg brace in gym. It could have been far worse if I had any interest whatsoever in sports, but even so, it was a very uncomfortable summer, not to mention the constant physical therapy afterwards. On the plus side, whenever I sucked in gym for a long time, I had a perfect excuse.
I think that's the basics of my physical disappointments. Oh, there are more; the time I was swarmed by bees in high school (I luckily got out of there with only six stings or so,) the time I got a metal pipe jammed into the top of my mouth (totally my fault, but I was six,) and of course the deformed left index finger I got as a baby when I somehow grabbed onto the hot wiring of a lamp (not so bad; it's completely functional and actually looks kind of cool.) But you get the idea. This may of course be one of the reasons I'm a transhumanist; the desire to get your body "fixed" is more pleasant when so many things have been or are broken.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Review Omnibus
This will be a short and unusual review section, as it will be several short reviews instead of one long one. The first review covers why.
My back: As of now, a D at best. For reasons unknown to me, my back has a tendency a few times a year to become incredibly painful, and this weekend I was due I guess. Today was spent skipping church, the gym, and everything else that involved mobility. Even walking was difficult; I had to sort of hunch over while I did it. And unusual muscle movements started to put stress on the rest of my body, so my left hip started hurting too. Wonderful, that. I don't know why this happens. I've been seeing a chiropractor, but it clearly hasn't helped enough yet.
White Fence Farm: Specifically, this refers to the original restaurant, owned by the Hastert family, back in Romeoville. This family-style chicken-focused restaurant is really known for its sheer size and aesthetics. The restaurant is huge, having a good dozen major dining rooms, each given a unique name, making it almost feel like navigating a labyrinth just to find your table. The design of the restaurant is homey and rustic, with wood furnishing and walls and old doodads lining every path. The entrance in particular captures this feel; there are ancient news clippings on the walls, old children's rides conveniently located next to semi-modern arcades, and even a small museum. The food itself is fine; decent chicken of the sort one can expect, but they're famous for their corn fritters, which are basically small donuts with a kernel or so per fritter. Despite having a back of man thrice my age, I had a good time, but I attribute much of that to my niece. They also have a petting zoo, though it's a small one and all the animals weren't really in a position to be petted, so I don't know what that deal was. Sadly, the farm motif was also ruined by the industrialization of the entire area around the restaurant, making it stand out a bit too much. But that's hardly their fault. I give the restaurant a B-B+, though I think you go for the atmosphere primarily.
Fox cartoon shows: Simpsons-Didn't see. Great inspiration, the series will earn an article here at some point, but it had sunk into craptitude years ago and this is the year I'm trying to finally declare my independence.
King of the Hill-A low B. The premise started out fine (Peggy Hill never has good birthdays, and the current one ended disastrously so,) but it never really went anywhere. They start things off well by having the original theme, a disco-themed murder mystery onboard a train, go wrong by the end of act one, when one of her friends figures the mystery out before the train even leaves, and the actual actors call it an early night. But then it sort of gets into a weird non- sequitar of public sex, a pseudo mystery replacing the normal one that lacks any real suspense, an abrupt resolution, and a B plot involving Bobby that also fails to go anywhere.
Family Guy-A C or so. The main plot, involving a son that Brian suddenly has (a human one, for some reason,) is as important as most Family Guy plots at this point. It's all about the incidental jokes, but these were not as clever or memorable as the best Family Guy ones, and the entire thing ended with another return to the status quo; a typical move for sitcoms including Family Guy, but to be fair this show has been known to mix things up at times and make permanent changes. Just not this time, unless the son does show up again.
American Dad-American Dad gets unfairly maligned as a clone of Family Guy, and it did start that way, but with time it found its own path, combining Family Guy humor (though mercifully doing away with the cut-away joke Family Guy is famous for,) with actually coherent plots, usually revolving main character Stan Smith's conservative beliefs when mixed with real life and his own naiveté. This week's episode wasn't their best, but it wasn't bad. A former KGB rival of Stan's moves in across the street and begins a battle for the heart and mind of Stan's son, becoming a sort of twisted fable about communism versus capitalism. The B plot, involving Roger and Klaus' trip to Europe, never really developed a plot of its own, nor any real resolution, but the main plot made up for it, though the show has had funnier weeks. Probably a B minus; this was a fairly slow return for main of the shows after weeks of reruns.
Next week, I expect to do at least one, and maybe two, video game reviews! Also, I'll be able to walk again!
My back: As of now, a D at best. For reasons unknown to me, my back has a tendency a few times a year to become incredibly painful, and this weekend I was due I guess. Today was spent skipping church, the gym, and everything else that involved mobility. Even walking was difficult; I had to sort of hunch over while I did it. And unusual muscle movements started to put stress on the rest of my body, so my left hip started hurting too. Wonderful, that. I don't know why this happens. I've been seeing a chiropractor, but it clearly hasn't helped enough yet.
White Fence Farm: Specifically, this refers to the original restaurant, owned by the Hastert family, back in Romeoville. This family-style chicken-focused restaurant is really known for its sheer size and aesthetics. The restaurant is huge, having a good dozen major dining rooms, each given a unique name, making it almost feel like navigating a labyrinth just to find your table. The design of the restaurant is homey and rustic, with wood furnishing and walls and old doodads lining every path. The entrance in particular captures this feel; there are ancient news clippings on the walls, old children's rides conveniently located next to semi-modern arcades, and even a small museum. The food itself is fine; decent chicken of the sort one can expect, but they're famous for their corn fritters, which are basically small donuts with a kernel or so per fritter. Despite having a back of man thrice my age, I had a good time, but I attribute much of that to my niece. They also have a petting zoo, though it's a small one and all the animals weren't really in a position to be petted, so I don't know what that deal was. Sadly, the farm motif was also ruined by the industrialization of the entire area around the restaurant, making it stand out a bit too much. But that's hardly their fault. I give the restaurant a B-B+, though I think you go for the atmosphere primarily.
Fox cartoon shows: Simpsons-Didn't see. Great inspiration, the series will earn an article here at some point, but it had sunk into craptitude years ago and this is the year I'm trying to finally declare my independence.
King of the Hill-A low B. The premise started out fine (Peggy Hill never has good birthdays, and the current one ended disastrously so,) but it never really went anywhere. They start things off well by having the original theme, a disco-themed murder mystery onboard a train, go wrong by the end of act one, when one of her friends figures the mystery out before the train even leaves, and the actual actors call it an early night. But then it sort of gets into a weird non- sequitar of public sex, a pseudo mystery replacing the normal one that lacks any real suspense, an abrupt resolution, and a B plot involving Bobby that also fails to go anywhere.
Family Guy-A C or so. The main plot, involving a son that Brian suddenly has (a human one, for some reason,) is as important as most Family Guy plots at this point. It's all about the incidental jokes, but these were not as clever or memorable as the best Family Guy ones, and the entire thing ended with another return to the status quo; a typical move for sitcoms including Family Guy, but to be fair this show has been known to mix things up at times and make permanent changes. Just not this time, unless the son does show up again.
American Dad-American Dad gets unfairly maligned as a clone of Family Guy, and it did start that way, but with time it found its own path, combining Family Guy humor (though mercifully doing away with the cut-away joke Family Guy is famous for,) with actually coherent plots, usually revolving main character Stan Smith's conservative beliefs when mixed with real life and his own naiveté. This week's episode wasn't their best, but it wasn't bad. A former KGB rival of Stan's moves in across the street and begins a battle for the heart and mind of Stan's son, becoming a sort of twisted fable about communism versus capitalism. The B plot, involving Roger and Klaus' trip to Europe, never really developed a plot of its own, nor any real resolution, but the main plot made up for it, though the show has had funnier weeks. Probably a B minus; this was a fairly slow return for main of the shows after weeks of reruns.
Next week, I expect to do at least one, and maybe two, video game reviews! Also, I'll be able to walk again!
Friday, April 25, 2008
My Inspirations: And the Horrible Confessions Continue
Part of me feels a bit bad about what I am about to write, because it's...not quite the most complementary thing I ever did. And that's a shame, because at the time, he was among my heroes, and his work, silly as it was, among the most inspirational to my own.
The inspiration in question is an author named Piers Anthony, and the work in question included many series of books, but the most important ones were the Xanth series. The last time I checked, this series had over twenty books, making it among the hardest things to get through this side of Terry Pratchett's Discworlds. I first read one when I was, I think, 13 or 14. I read nearly the entire series at that point throughout high school, and I thought they were amazing, incredible pieces of fiction.
If you were interested in starting them, I would recommend you not do so.
The Xanth series in particular deserves an explanation. They take place almost exclusively in Xanth, a fantasy land in a parallel world. It mostly is disconnected from our world, but periodically it opens, and when it does it often, at least in modern times, is connected directly to the space around Florida, which the land then resembles and which is, conveniently, the home state of the author. As fantasy worlds go, this one is very strongly emphasizing the fantasy. The place is home to elves, dwarves, dragons, demons, dryads, nagas, and pretty much anything else you can imagine, and even the humans aren't normal. The ones who first arrive act normal, but any human born there (or technically, brought by a stork. It's one of those fantasy worlds,) has a unique magical power. Some are completely useless, but others are so powerful they can lead the user to conquest, and because of this and tradition the land's King is always a possessor of one of these talents.
Even beyond this level of magic, the place is full of strangeness. There's a giant canyon that splits the entire place in half, a magical and angry storm cloud, a sentient, magically-generated computer, gourds connected to the realm of dreams, endless varieties of magical plants and creatures and...the puns.
Oh, God, the puns.
That's the thing about Xanth. It's...it's cute. Monster names are alliterative, human names are almost always tied into their magical power, and nearly everything else is a joke. Most are absolutely terrible puns made into literal monsters, but there are references to pop culture, products, and more. Some of them are fairly amusing (Hannah Barbarian still makes me laugh,) but after a while, they get to you. They weren't so bad in the early novels, but they got worse as they continued, and for a very good (or bad) reason. Piers started taking requests. So he go inundated with puns by his readers and happily toss a couple hundred in per novel and then thanked the contributors in the authors notes. I'd complain more, if I wasn't, well, one of said contributor. Hey, I thought the Hall Minotaurs were funny, okay.
But it's not just the puns that get to me now, especially since Piers' other works mercifully didn't use them. One of his other issues was some very odd takes on relationships, sexuality, and gender. Let's ignore the very odd things, like the "love" springs Xanth that makes you fall in love with the first creature you see, regardless of...pretty much anything. Women play starring roles as often as men, but they often end up in situations where they end up naked or in their underwear. The obsession with the underwear alone is enough to warrant some psychological theorizing, but I won't do that here. It should be noted, of course, that I started reading these things when I was just hitting puberty. These sorts of things were much better at obtaining my interests then, but while it was entertaining enough when I was a teenager, it's slightly less pleasant when I know mostly think that this is a man in his sixties writing endless novels about getting teenaged girls into their underwear.
This philosophical bent often bothered me, too, even when I was a fan. Piers had a very strong opinion on the concept of honor, which among other things, or rather especially, meant keeping one's word and following one's duty. The Xanth novels only occasionally got weird about this, but other works of his often took this to ridiculous extremes. If a supervillain captured the heroes and said "promise to help me conquer the world or I'll torture you to death," the heroes will promise, and that's what they'll do. Even if they escape or the villain just lets them go, they can happily spend the rest of the series working for evil because evil coaxed a promise out of them. Piers even thinks this includes forcing one's offspring into agreements, so if your parents agreed to work for evil before you were even born, when you grew, that's what you did! Between this and the earlier issues, it led to some shallow and frankly insane-seeming heroes.
But of course Piers had his strengths, as well. His imagination was second only to his attention to detail. Xanth itself was pretty simplistic, but it still contained dozens of unique reasons and a long history (most of his early books included a timeline a dozen pages long.) Other works got into much more esoteric lands, like two parallel planes that exist on two sides of the same planet, or an infinite number of planes that can be linked via five-dimensional algorithms represented by five beings. And the long series often took advantage of their length by advancing the plot for years or even generations. Those twenty+ Xanth novels included something like four generations of heroes, letting us see them grow up, fall in love, get married (often two seconds after falling in love, but still,) and having children that would then become the heroes three books later. It was often too pat, too easy, too contrived, but it's a method I never forgot, either.
Many of my later idols, like Joss Whedon, often trended to far towards the other direction. If there was a relationship, it was doomed within a season. If there was a group of characters, expect at least two to die, or at least turn evil. At this point, it's hard to imagine, say, the Buffy universe in twenty years without wondering how any of the characters survived.
These rules have entered my own designs. That imagination helped inspire the multi-dimensional ur-story of all my ideas, not to mention the complex ones individual games use. And that attention to detail? There's a reason my history/timeline is some 200 pages long, and the index of important characters and terms is even longer. And this timeline includes generations, children who grew up, some who did not, and a history full of heroes and villains. If Joss made me unafraid to kill a character, Piers reminded me not to be afraid to let them live sometimes as well. He contributed that much at least. Which at least makes us even after the "Satyr/Satire" pun.
The inspiration in question is an author named Piers Anthony, and the work in question included many series of books, but the most important ones were the Xanth series. The last time I checked, this series had over twenty books, making it among the hardest things to get through this side of Terry Pratchett's Discworlds. I first read one when I was, I think, 13 or 14. I read nearly the entire series at that point throughout high school, and I thought they were amazing, incredible pieces of fiction.
If you were interested in starting them, I would recommend you not do so.
The Xanth series in particular deserves an explanation. They take place almost exclusively in Xanth, a fantasy land in a parallel world. It mostly is disconnected from our world, but periodically it opens, and when it does it often, at least in modern times, is connected directly to the space around Florida, which the land then resembles and which is, conveniently, the home state of the author. As fantasy worlds go, this one is very strongly emphasizing the fantasy. The place is home to elves, dwarves, dragons, demons, dryads, nagas, and pretty much anything else you can imagine, and even the humans aren't normal. The ones who first arrive act normal, but any human born there (or technically, brought by a stork. It's one of those fantasy worlds,) has a unique magical power. Some are completely useless, but others are so powerful they can lead the user to conquest, and because of this and tradition the land's King is always a possessor of one of these talents.
Even beyond this level of magic, the place is full of strangeness. There's a giant canyon that splits the entire place in half, a magical and angry storm cloud, a sentient, magically-generated computer, gourds connected to the realm of dreams, endless varieties of magical plants and creatures and...the puns.
Oh, God, the puns.
That's the thing about Xanth. It's...it's cute. Monster names are alliterative, human names are almost always tied into their magical power, and nearly everything else is a joke. Most are absolutely terrible puns made into literal monsters, but there are references to pop culture, products, and more. Some of them are fairly amusing (Hannah Barbarian still makes me laugh,) but after a while, they get to you. They weren't so bad in the early novels, but they got worse as they continued, and for a very good (or bad) reason. Piers started taking requests. So he go inundated with puns by his readers and happily toss a couple hundred in per novel and then thanked the contributors in the authors notes. I'd complain more, if I wasn't, well, one of said contributor. Hey, I thought the Hall Minotaurs were funny, okay.
But it's not just the puns that get to me now, especially since Piers' other works mercifully didn't use them. One of his other issues was some very odd takes on relationships, sexuality, and gender. Let's ignore the very odd things, like the "love" springs Xanth that makes you fall in love with the first creature you see, regardless of...pretty much anything. Women play starring roles as often as men, but they often end up in situations where they end up naked or in their underwear. The obsession with the underwear alone is enough to warrant some psychological theorizing, but I won't do that here. It should be noted, of course, that I started reading these things when I was just hitting puberty. These sorts of things were much better at obtaining my interests then, but while it was entertaining enough when I was a teenager, it's slightly less pleasant when I know mostly think that this is a man in his sixties writing endless novels about getting teenaged girls into their underwear.
This philosophical bent often bothered me, too, even when I was a fan. Piers had a very strong opinion on the concept of honor, which among other things, or rather especially, meant keeping one's word and following one's duty. The Xanth novels only occasionally got weird about this, but other works of his often took this to ridiculous extremes. If a supervillain captured the heroes and said "promise to help me conquer the world or I'll torture you to death," the heroes will promise, and that's what they'll do. Even if they escape or the villain just lets them go, they can happily spend the rest of the series working for evil because evil coaxed a promise out of them. Piers even thinks this includes forcing one's offspring into agreements, so if your parents agreed to work for evil before you were even born, when you grew, that's what you did! Between this and the earlier issues, it led to some shallow and frankly insane-seeming heroes.
But of course Piers had his strengths, as well. His imagination was second only to his attention to detail. Xanth itself was pretty simplistic, but it still contained dozens of unique reasons and a long history (most of his early books included a timeline a dozen pages long.) Other works got into much more esoteric lands, like two parallel planes that exist on two sides of the same planet, or an infinite number of planes that can be linked via five-dimensional algorithms represented by five beings. And the long series often took advantage of their length by advancing the plot for years or even generations. Those twenty+ Xanth novels included something like four generations of heroes, letting us see them grow up, fall in love, get married (often two seconds after falling in love, but still,) and having children that would then become the heroes three books later. It was often too pat, too easy, too contrived, but it's a method I never forgot, either.
Many of my later idols, like Joss Whedon, often trended to far towards the other direction. If there was a relationship, it was doomed within a season. If there was a group of characters, expect at least two to die, or at least turn evil. At this point, it's hard to imagine, say, the Buffy universe in twenty years without wondering how any of the characters survived.
These rules have entered my own designs. That imagination helped inspire the multi-dimensional ur-story of all my ideas, not to mention the complex ones individual games use. And that attention to detail? There's a reason my history/timeline is some 200 pages long, and the index of important characters and terms is even longer. And this timeline includes generations, children who grew up, some who did not, and a history full of heroes and villains. If Joss made me unafraid to kill a character, Piers reminded me not to be afraid to let them live sometimes as well. He contributed that much at least. Which at least makes us even after the "Satyr/Satire" pun.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
One Day Delay
Staying late at work was only the start of how my schedule got messed up tonight. Don't worry; today's update will be tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
My Ideas: My Dark, Dark Admission
This idea, like many of them, has origins in many places. We'll start with the easy one. It began with a new power I wanted to give one of the species I made, one that will get its own write-up later. The gimmick was a strange one. They would create a machine which I will simply call "The Randomizer" at this point. It will take a sample of their race and give them powers that were, as the name suggested, random. It wasn't normally a permanent change, unless they were willing to sacrifice incredible amounts of power per individual involved, but it could, with luck, turn the tide of crucial battles.
The gimmick took some effort to set up. I had to come up with a few hundred random terms, and in the end I even created programs that used the randomizer, both in my calculator (man, does anyone else remember those TI-80+ that match classes expected?,) and even a simple Java variant. By this point, it wasn't just an amusing concept for the species, though. I ruled that the race did make some permanent heroes using it, and thus full characters came from it. From there, it was inspiring. I would use it when I was bored or when I was in a creative slump, letting me create entire new character concepts in seconds, often in a way that defied normal archetypal clichés. Fire-breathing dragons were one thing, but umbrella wielding bubble dragons? That was new.
This game idea started, to a degree, from those humble origins. But it had others. It also came from my interested in Star Wars and other mandatory space operas and games like Master of Orion, which revolved around the simulation of galactic empires and, well, star wars. What bothered me was how different these things were. Most good space operas aren't just about how neat the setting is; they're about characters as they grow, become friends or enemies, betray each other, fight, form rivalries, and do all the good things that happen in stories. Most space simulation games, by contrast, are clinical things where you play "yourself" as manifested through an invisible avatar. If there are any characters, they only appear as doomed leaders of other empires, and thus who you eventually conquer, and "heroes" that serve as little but sets of bonuses.
The game in question, Ascension, tried to do away with this problem by being two games at once. On one level, it's a space simulation game where you form an empire, fight galactic wars, conquer planets, yadda yadda. On the other, it's a tactical RPG where the characters have to explore ancient ruins, raid enemy space stations, and meet their equals on the others sides on the battlefield.
The game took place in a typical future. Earth was part of a neutral if strict multi-stellar empire, and they were surrounded by planet-sized nations run by charismatic leaders or, more often than not, super-powered mutants. But the real enemies in the game, at least initially, were a race of conquering aliens who already ruled half of the known galaxy. They had a disturbing belief in the value of other alien races; they made excellent spare parts. That was in fact the secret of their success, for whenever they conquered a race, they found their most powerful biological traits, harvested them, and incorporated them into themselves.
From the perspective of the heroes, the plot begins with Bellidemir, a mutant herself and an outcast on her primitive world. She had the fairly impressive ability to control water, and after a surprisingly short series of adventures, she went from outcast to leader of a small colony world. This lets the player get started in the simulation aspects of the game early, as the player turned her colony into the capital of her own stellar empire.
The RPG plot, meanwhile, was intentionally traditional, and here I injected a bit of fantasy into my sci-fi. As she gains power, she learns that once their universe was more magical, to the point where it was run by gods. However, an ancient civilization (yes, one of those,) grew so powerful that they conquered the gods, imprisoning them in a pocket plane. Bellidemir learns that if she can collect some mystical artifacts (yes, some of those,) she could enter their prison plane, defeat their jail keeper, and thus earn their thanks as a reward. It's the greatest of all prizes, though ironically the evil aliens, known as the Converged, deliberately leaked its existence to the other races. They realized all the other nations combined could destroy them, but if they fought amongst themselves, the Converged could pick them off one by one. And if they should enter the pocket plane, the jail keeper should easily destroy any who try to free the gods anyway. It was a win/win for them. Guess how the plot resolved that one.
And then I took the fantasy and added the crazy. You see, except for seven cases (possibly eight; one of them is Bellidemir's mother,) all the main characters in the game were made using the Randomizer. Even Bellidemir herself. This led to some truly crazy characters, like a pyrokineticist who was in a coma, yet still served as a combatant. Or another psychic who was trapped on an unknown alien planet and "joins" the party through various projections made of crystals. Or the former party girl possessed by an ancient samurai spirit. Or the billions of microscopic people who lived on a planet the size and shape of a normal person. The list goes on, making one of my strangest and most favorite character sets to date. And save for Bellidemir, all were optional characters that could be friend or enemy based on her actions. As for the other seven, one was a classic character brought in as a cameo, and the other six were very familiar to me. Save for some modifications, they were the characters from the old coin game, which I discussed in an earlier writing. They served as another viewpoint to Bellidemir's actions, though in the end they joined her as well.
Despite not thinking about it in a while, this is one of my favorite ideas to fall back on. The concept was original, and the two genres mix better than some might expect (though, to be fair, the concept isn't completely unprecedented; the X-Com series is one popular series that tried this.) Bellidemir is not exactly my favorite characters, but many of the others have a long-time historical appeal, including the final boss, who is unfortunately classified. But it's the randomness of the cast that remains my favorite element. I even was tempted to use it for other games, or even to make an entire game concept out of nothing, but frankly that always struck me as cheating. Well, okay, there is one exception, but that's another story for another night.
The gimmick took some effort to set up. I had to come up with a few hundred random terms, and in the end I even created programs that used the randomizer, both in my calculator (man, does anyone else remember those TI-80+ that match classes expected?,) and even a simple Java variant. By this point, it wasn't just an amusing concept for the species, though. I ruled that the race did make some permanent heroes using it, and thus full characters came from it. From there, it was inspiring. I would use it when I was bored or when I was in a creative slump, letting me create entire new character concepts in seconds, often in a way that defied normal archetypal clichés. Fire-breathing dragons were one thing, but umbrella wielding bubble dragons? That was new.
This game idea started, to a degree, from those humble origins. But it had others. It also came from my interested in Star Wars and other mandatory space operas and games like Master of Orion, which revolved around the simulation of galactic empires and, well, star wars. What bothered me was how different these things were. Most good space operas aren't just about how neat the setting is; they're about characters as they grow, become friends or enemies, betray each other, fight, form rivalries, and do all the good things that happen in stories. Most space simulation games, by contrast, are clinical things where you play "yourself" as manifested through an invisible avatar. If there are any characters, they only appear as doomed leaders of other empires, and thus who you eventually conquer, and "heroes" that serve as little but sets of bonuses.
The game in question, Ascension, tried to do away with this problem by being two games at once. On one level, it's a space simulation game where you form an empire, fight galactic wars, conquer planets, yadda yadda. On the other, it's a tactical RPG where the characters have to explore ancient ruins, raid enemy space stations, and meet their equals on the others sides on the battlefield.
The game took place in a typical future. Earth was part of a neutral if strict multi-stellar empire, and they were surrounded by planet-sized nations run by charismatic leaders or, more often than not, super-powered mutants. But the real enemies in the game, at least initially, were a race of conquering aliens who already ruled half of the known galaxy. They had a disturbing belief in the value of other alien races; they made excellent spare parts. That was in fact the secret of their success, for whenever they conquered a race, they found their most powerful biological traits, harvested them, and incorporated them into themselves.
From the perspective of the heroes, the plot begins with Bellidemir, a mutant herself and an outcast on her primitive world. She had the fairly impressive ability to control water, and after a surprisingly short series of adventures, she went from outcast to leader of a small colony world. This lets the player get started in the simulation aspects of the game early, as the player turned her colony into the capital of her own stellar empire.
The RPG plot, meanwhile, was intentionally traditional, and here I injected a bit of fantasy into my sci-fi. As she gains power, she learns that once their universe was more magical, to the point where it was run by gods. However, an ancient civilization (yes, one of those,) grew so powerful that they conquered the gods, imprisoning them in a pocket plane. Bellidemir learns that if she can collect some mystical artifacts (yes, some of those,) she could enter their prison plane, defeat their jail keeper, and thus earn their thanks as a reward. It's the greatest of all prizes, though ironically the evil aliens, known as the Converged, deliberately leaked its existence to the other races. They realized all the other nations combined could destroy them, but if they fought amongst themselves, the Converged could pick them off one by one. And if they should enter the pocket plane, the jail keeper should easily destroy any who try to free the gods anyway. It was a win/win for them. Guess how the plot resolved that one.
And then I took the fantasy and added the crazy. You see, except for seven cases (possibly eight; one of them is Bellidemir's mother,) all the main characters in the game were made using the Randomizer. Even Bellidemir herself. This led to some truly crazy characters, like a pyrokineticist who was in a coma, yet still served as a combatant. Or another psychic who was trapped on an unknown alien planet and "joins" the party through various projections made of crystals. Or the former party girl possessed by an ancient samurai spirit. Or the billions of microscopic people who lived on a planet the size and shape of a normal person. The list goes on, making one of my strangest and most favorite character sets to date. And save for Bellidemir, all were optional characters that could be friend or enemy based on her actions. As for the other seven, one was a classic character brought in as a cameo, and the other six were very familiar to me. Save for some modifications, they were the characters from the old coin game, which I discussed in an earlier writing. They served as another viewpoint to Bellidemir's actions, though in the end they joined her as well.
Despite not thinking about it in a while, this is one of my favorite ideas to fall back on. The concept was original, and the two genres mix better than some might expect (though, to be fair, the concept isn't completely unprecedented; the X-Com series is one popular series that tried this.) Bellidemir is not exactly my favorite characters, but many of the others have a long-time historical appeal, including the final boss, who is unfortunately classified. But it's the randomness of the cast that remains my favorite element. I even was tempted to use it for other games, or even to make an entire game concept out of nothing, but frankly that always struck me as cheating. Well, okay, there is one exception, but that's another story for another night.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Reviews: You'd Think We'd Be Better At This Sort of Thing
This will have to be an abridged review; it's been a busy and distracting day. You see, today is a special annual event celebrated by cultural subgroups. It's a holiday of sorts; albeit an obscure one.
I'm speaking, of course, about the day Gen Con events are available to order. What did you think I meant?
As holidays go, though, this is not the most fun of events. To get registered for Gen Con...actually, I'll start at the beginning. Gen Con is the annual convention for role-playing games, miniature games, and assorted other games. It's geek's paradise, at least in theory. Getting events for it, however, is hell.
Imagine 30,000 people desperately trying to go online to the same website in order to get some of the most popular events, many of which having only 4-6 openings. The servers die early and often. This year, it took me 2 1/2 hours, and of course my favorite events were already filled. Now, this was partially my fault. The events almost never become available on a weekend, so I was off my usual plan, and the stress of this year made me sloppy and careless.
For example, on a good year, my plan for getting events is: download the schedule days early, go over it with a fine-tooth comb, create a file listing my desired events and sorted by date and identification number, go on the website very early, log in, and get as far into registration as they'll allow. If possible, even list all the events I want on the site and paste them into the order form.
This year, my plan was: realize it was event day about 2 this afternoon, panic, take an hour logging in while trying to download the events list from an equally busy folder, fumble through it to find enough events I'm interested in, and try to get them purchased. Often, I fail. But that's pretty standard; nobody gets some of the really tough ones. But I ended up missing a few of my standbys.
And, so, my review of Gencon's events system is a solid C-. It's not lower for two reasons. First, there aren't really fair ways to give four tickets out to ten thousand people, and they're not responsible for making these events, just organizing them. And secondly, we're gamers. This is a system to be mastered. It's a game. It has winners, losers, and rewards for the former. It's not their fault I forgot the rules this time. Nonetheless, all of this just made my screenplay writing even farther behind, and for that they must pay.
I'm speaking, of course, about the day Gen Con events are available to order. What did you think I meant?
As holidays go, though, this is not the most fun of events. To get registered for Gen Con...actually, I'll start at the beginning. Gen Con is the annual convention for role-playing games, miniature games, and assorted other games. It's geek's paradise, at least in theory. Getting events for it, however, is hell.
Imagine 30,000 people desperately trying to go online to the same website in order to get some of the most popular events, many of which having only 4-6 openings. The servers die early and often. This year, it took me 2 1/2 hours, and of course my favorite events were already filled. Now, this was partially my fault. The events almost never become available on a weekend, so I was off my usual plan, and the stress of this year made me sloppy and careless.
For example, on a good year, my plan for getting events is: download the schedule days early, go over it with a fine-tooth comb, create a file listing my desired events and sorted by date and identification number, go on the website very early, log in, and get as far into registration as they'll allow. If possible, even list all the events I want on the site and paste them into the order form.
This year, my plan was: realize it was event day about 2 this afternoon, panic, take an hour logging in while trying to download the events list from an equally busy folder, fumble through it to find enough events I'm interested in, and try to get them purchased. Often, I fail. But that's pretty standard; nobody gets some of the really tough ones. But I ended up missing a few of my standbys.
And, so, my review of Gencon's events system is a solid C-. It's not lower for two reasons. First, there aren't really fair ways to give four tickets out to ten thousand people, and they're not responsible for making these events, just organizing them. And secondly, we're gamers. This is a system to be mastered. It's a game. It has winners, losers, and rewards for the former. It's not their fault I forgot the rules this time. Nonetheless, all of this just made my screenplay writing even farther behind, and for that they must pay.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Rantings: GAMING! IN THE FUTURE!
Today, we'll discuss the future of games, as I see them. It's an interesting subject; the entirety of games as a commercial venture is only about 35 years old, 40 at the most. Most people describe the current systems (Playstation 3, Xbox 360, and Wii,) as seventh generation. Given that most generations are about 5 years or so long, that's not very long at all. Imagine this industry when that time is doubled, and the industry is as long as a common life span. How will things look? Given that we're already seeing diminishing returns, graphically, how will things change per generation?
Let's pick a hypothetical time to start with. We'll double the number of generations, tossing us at about 2040-2045. Let's assume, of course, that humanity hasn't wiped itself out, civilization hasn't ended, we reasonably fixed global warming, peak oil, and other potential crises.
First of all, what will happen to the various console, PC, and handheld markets? Who will win? Well, for starters, they all will win. Because they will all be the same. Yes, 35 years of improvements to the industry will make hardware minimized to the point where anything most people need can fit into a device the size of an iPod. Actually, it could be even smaller and more portable. I am after all both a futurist and a transhumanist; I can see the hardware going from simply portable into fully cybernetic. People carry around cell phones, word processors, internet searching, email, instant messaging, video games, music players, video players, GPS, and more into a single device/implant. And the graphics for games and such will be as close to photorealistic as any can desire.
Of course, there's the problem of the two inch screen. Games could be as realistic as they want, but they still lack the appeal of giant screens. There are two options. The optimist in me hopes that not only are the devices built in, but their interactive elements are completely neurological. So we see the games and videos as close as possible because they are being shown directly in our eyes. Plan B, of course, is not nearly as cool. Instead, "consoles" are simply adapters that connect to our portable systems when at home, letting transfer the video and audio directly to the more advanced systems at home. This latter method, admittedly, is better for social events.
What about controls? Well, if output is fully neurological, why not make input the same? In other words, controllers in this format are extinct, from the keyboard setup of computers to the esoteric controllers with a dozen buttons to Nintendo's more surreal inputs. You simply think what your protagonist does, making the game all about strategy and rapid reaction, not figuring out controller combinations and what each button does.
Unsurprisingly, interactivity, multi-player, and online components will be more important. I'm not saying that narrative will be dead, nor single-player gameplay. As my early blogs suggest, this would nearly kill all my interest in the industry. But cooperative and competitive gameplay will be more important, and some elements are nearly essential in every game. Another option is spectator mode, splitting narrative gameplay between those eager to play the game and those who simply treat it as a television series/movie and can watch people from across the globe play the game for them. Some games will even be released in serialized formats, with another hour or so worth of "chapters" released every week. What you won't see are the games that require hours of grinding or four-hour long epic quests. Save-anywhere will, in some way, become the standard, though there will be steps to correct for the problem of saving and loading every three steps to prevent any threat, and the rise of difficulty made to counter that. People just won't have the time and interest in this sort of thing, and nobody wants two take three hours doing nothing when they could just bound into another game.
Finally, we come to issues of business, rival companies, and how much games themselves cost. I think hardware manufacturers will continue to have a rivalry, much like the modern Nintendo vs. Sony vs. Microsoft of our era. That, of course, assumes that there's enough of a reason for them to exist; if there literally are no differences to be had with hardware, at least at a reasonable price, then nobody will bother and switch to software. This will be more like our DVD and other video storage circumstance, where there eventually is only one winner. What will certainly be extinct are normal, physical game and video stores. Most things will be downloaded these days, though some people will still buy collector's editions, but even then most people will order online.
As for pricing, games can be bought at various rates, but I don't see advertising as replacing costs entirely. People, frankly, hate ads, and they will be looking for ways to bypass or ignore them by then. So people will be getting games in one of three ways; in one single purchase, making it less like modern games and more like DVD collections of a television series, in a series of micropayments per level or element, again much like the old shareware system and which I think will work for serialized games based on television shows, and finally optional payments. This last system is used in Korea already, and it works fine as long as the elements aren't part of obligatory gameplay. It can even be used to let people customize and alter the game world itself. Imagine how much people would play to, say, create a city or a monster in a massively multiplayer game? It wouldn't work for every game, but it would be a great way to make open world games truly the player's story. It can even be used to narrative games; suddenly an epic story has new monsters and bosses, or even major plot twists, as altered by the players. Of course, there has to be some quality control!
If indeed narrative games, epic stories, actual character development, and other elements I consider essential do remain, I think this will be a golden future. More importantly, with the graphics chase done and designs efficient to the point where game development isn’t prohibitively expensive, we can finally see the respect among the mainstream of gaming as an art form. After all, at this point, almost everyone alive grew up with games, and the only thing more heart-warming than seeing another generation of kids playing games is realizing that retirees are doing the exact same thing.
Let's pick a hypothetical time to start with. We'll double the number of generations, tossing us at about 2040-2045. Let's assume, of course, that humanity hasn't wiped itself out, civilization hasn't ended, we reasonably fixed global warming, peak oil, and other potential crises.
First of all, what will happen to the various console, PC, and handheld markets? Who will win? Well, for starters, they all will win. Because they will all be the same. Yes, 35 years of improvements to the industry will make hardware minimized to the point where anything most people need can fit into a device the size of an iPod. Actually, it could be even smaller and more portable. I am after all both a futurist and a transhumanist; I can see the hardware going from simply portable into fully cybernetic. People carry around cell phones, word processors, internet searching, email, instant messaging, video games, music players, video players, GPS, and more into a single device/implant. And the graphics for games and such will be as close to photorealistic as any can desire.
Of course, there's the problem of the two inch screen. Games could be as realistic as they want, but they still lack the appeal of giant screens. There are two options. The optimist in me hopes that not only are the devices built in, but their interactive elements are completely neurological. So we see the games and videos as close as possible because they are being shown directly in our eyes. Plan B, of course, is not nearly as cool. Instead, "consoles" are simply adapters that connect to our portable systems when at home, letting transfer the video and audio directly to the more advanced systems at home. This latter method, admittedly, is better for social events.
What about controls? Well, if output is fully neurological, why not make input the same? In other words, controllers in this format are extinct, from the keyboard setup of computers to the esoteric controllers with a dozen buttons to Nintendo's more surreal inputs. You simply think what your protagonist does, making the game all about strategy and rapid reaction, not figuring out controller combinations and what each button does.
Unsurprisingly, interactivity, multi-player, and online components will be more important. I'm not saying that narrative will be dead, nor single-player gameplay. As my early blogs suggest, this would nearly kill all my interest in the industry. But cooperative and competitive gameplay will be more important, and some elements are nearly essential in every game. Another option is spectator mode, splitting narrative gameplay between those eager to play the game and those who simply treat it as a television series/movie and can watch people from across the globe play the game for them. Some games will even be released in serialized formats, with another hour or so worth of "chapters" released every week. What you won't see are the games that require hours of grinding or four-hour long epic quests. Save-anywhere will, in some way, become the standard, though there will be steps to correct for the problem of saving and loading every three steps to prevent any threat, and the rise of difficulty made to counter that. People just won't have the time and interest in this sort of thing, and nobody wants two take three hours doing nothing when they could just bound into another game.
Finally, we come to issues of business, rival companies, and how much games themselves cost. I think hardware manufacturers will continue to have a rivalry, much like the modern Nintendo vs. Sony vs. Microsoft of our era. That, of course, assumes that there's enough of a reason for them to exist; if there literally are no differences to be had with hardware, at least at a reasonable price, then nobody will bother and switch to software. This will be more like our DVD and other video storage circumstance, where there eventually is only one winner. What will certainly be extinct are normal, physical game and video stores. Most things will be downloaded these days, though some people will still buy collector's editions, but even then most people will order online.
As for pricing, games can be bought at various rates, but I don't see advertising as replacing costs entirely. People, frankly, hate ads, and they will be looking for ways to bypass or ignore them by then. So people will be getting games in one of three ways; in one single purchase, making it less like modern games and more like DVD collections of a television series, in a series of micropayments per level or element, again much like the old shareware system and which I think will work for serialized games based on television shows, and finally optional payments. This last system is used in Korea already, and it works fine as long as the elements aren't part of obligatory gameplay. It can even be used to let people customize and alter the game world itself. Imagine how much people would play to, say, create a city or a monster in a massively multiplayer game? It wouldn't work for every game, but it would be a great way to make open world games truly the player's story. It can even be used to narrative games; suddenly an epic story has new monsters and bosses, or even major plot twists, as altered by the players. Of course, there has to be some quality control!
If indeed narrative games, epic stories, actual character development, and other elements I consider essential do remain, I think this will be a golden future. More importantly, with the graphics chase done and designs efficient to the point where game development isn’t prohibitively expensive, we can finally see the respect among the mainstream of gaming as an art form. After all, at this point, almost everyone alive grew up with games, and the only thing more heart-warming than seeing another generation of kids playing games is realizing that retirees are doing the exact same thing.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
My Life: Actually Not My Life #2
So we come to round 2 of the alternate life concepts. This one is going to be slightly different from the first (which, if you forgot, as I did, was how I saw myself in 10 years when I was 18.) I imagine myself as I do now, but with one notable exception; if I could relive my life knowing what I know now. In other words, this is the cheating edition.
Now, I'm going to avoid cheating too much; there are all kinds of ways one can if one knows he's living a quarter-life long personal Groundhog Day and has an overactive imagination like mine. So let's set some ground rules. First, I can't use any of the time I already had to prepare, nor use other hypothetical time between now and when the "jump" happens back into my own childhood. The second rule, which is also a direct corollary to the last, is absolutely no time travel money frauds, and believe I've considered a lot of them. No memorizing lottery numbers before the jump, no conveniently figuring out stock tips, no gambling on sports. Let's face it, I couldn't do number 3 anyway without the prep time. I'd make a fortune guessing who shot Mr. Burns on the Simpsons, though.
Rule number 3 says I don't use my knowledge to alter history. No altering who wins elections, who saving celebrities or family members who died before their times, no preventing 9/11 or other disaster. Don't get me wrong, I totally would do this in a "real life" version of this situation, but this hypothetical is about a new me, not a Temporal Superhero version of me. Similarly, according to Rule 4, this hypothetical assumes only general knowledge of what I know. I can't do calculus, quickly relearn Japanese, or demonstrate capable C programming skills at the age of 7 and live my life as a celebrated prodigy. I'm only as smart as I was at any given age; I just might be a bit wiser.
With the rules over, we can start with the actual plans. We'll start with the easy things. First of all, extracurricular activities will change. Intramural soccer and baseball are gone right away. I hated them the first time around. Also gone is elementary school chorus. Really, the only reason I tried it was because it was easier than band and there were almost no non-athletic activities in grade school. In high school, I'd also remove most but not all of my journalism classes. They were fun and a decent way to bond, but that doesn't mean I had to be an editor in both newspaper and yearbook at the same time. I used to stay at school as late as nine. It certainly wasn't worth that.
Instead, in grade school, I actually will try for band. I do have a natural talent for keyboard skills, after all. I could be a pianist or drummer. Or just play guitar. That last skill in particular has other benefits. As for high school, I would focus on doing some art or drama related in addition to a little journalism. Writing is fine; five hours altering page layouts is less so. Athletically, I could focus on things I know I have skill and interest in, like track, or things I would have prefer trying, like formal martial arts training.
A tougher change to make is altering my personality and, in short, quit being such a prude. I mentioned before that my religious beliefs changed over my life. Had I gotten over these things earlier, they would have changed my life rather thoroughly, ending with the college I chose. But it also would have led to my next change, which is to simply be less shy. Having less insular social groups is a good start, but it also means just being open. I shouldn't be worried about the class jerks, but there were plenty of nice people of both genders I could see being friends if I made some effort outside of school work, which is another thing to worry about less. On that note, and the hardest thing I have to do, is deal with those jerks. I can't just ignore them; that failed the first time. But actual fights would be even worse. The only choices are to be in a position where I won't be an easy target for the taunting jerks, or to actually respond. It can't be angry or aggressive, but assertive and questioning. Make them the focus of come discomfort and embarrassment, and they'll either move on or actually improve themselves.
The end result has 28 year old me again. Here, I have friends from other times, at least beyond the mere couple I have now. I could even have dated one or more of them, or even end up married to one. I also would have accomplished artistic things from even early times. I'd have writings, paintings, even musical performances from when I was a child. It beats trying to stay awake during songs I can't sing. Admittedly, I still have some old newspapers and the yearbooks from high school, but that's still not as variety, and certainly not as personal, as the work I could have done. Besides, I still would have had written stories from them in this version.
That's me, knowing what I know now, if I could redo my childhood, especially everything after the family moved when I was 7. That was sort of the sticking point for much of my life. Now, may I ask, what would you change, hypothetical readers? Assuming I have any? As for me, I'll be writing another of these posts in the next few of this topic. But this time, more boobs will be involved! At a personal level! So it could get weird.
Now, I'm going to avoid cheating too much; there are all kinds of ways one can if one knows he's living a quarter-life long personal Groundhog Day and has an overactive imagination like mine. So let's set some ground rules. First, I can't use any of the time I already had to prepare, nor use other hypothetical time between now and when the "jump" happens back into my own childhood. The second rule, which is also a direct corollary to the last, is absolutely no time travel money frauds, and believe I've considered a lot of them. No memorizing lottery numbers before the jump, no conveniently figuring out stock tips, no gambling on sports. Let's face it, I couldn't do number 3 anyway without the prep time. I'd make a fortune guessing who shot Mr. Burns on the Simpsons, though.
Rule number 3 says I don't use my knowledge to alter history. No altering who wins elections, who saving celebrities or family members who died before their times, no preventing 9/11 or other disaster. Don't get me wrong, I totally would do this in a "real life" version of this situation, but this hypothetical is about a new me, not a Temporal Superhero version of me. Similarly, according to Rule 4, this hypothetical assumes only general knowledge of what I know. I can't do calculus, quickly relearn Japanese, or demonstrate capable C programming skills at the age of 7 and live my life as a celebrated prodigy. I'm only as smart as I was at any given age; I just might be a bit wiser.
With the rules over, we can start with the actual plans. We'll start with the easy things. First of all, extracurricular activities will change. Intramural soccer and baseball are gone right away. I hated them the first time around. Also gone is elementary school chorus. Really, the only reason I tried it was because it was easier than band and there were almost no non-athletic activities in grade school. In high school, I'd also remove most but not all of my journalism classes. They were fun and a decent way to bond, but that doesn't mean I had to be an editor in both newspaper and yearbook at the same time. I used to stay at school as late as nine. It certainly wasn't worth that.
Instead, in grade school, I actually will try for band. I do have a natural talent for keyboard skills, after all. I could be a pianist or drummer. Or just play guitar. That last skill in particular has other benefits. As for high school, I would focus on doing some art or drama related in addition to a little journalism. Writing is fine; five hours altering page layouts is less so. Athletically, I could focus on things I know I have skill and interest in, like track, or things I would have prefer trying, like formal martial arts training.
A tougher change to make is altering my personality and, in short, quit being such a prude. I mentioned before that my religious beliefs changed over my life. Had I gotten over these things earlier, they would have changed my life rather thoroughly, ending with the college I chose. But it also would have led to my next change, which is to simply be less shy. Having less insular social groups is a good start, but it also means just being open. I shouldn't be worried about the class jerks, but there were plenty of nice people of both genders I could see being friends if I made some effort outside of school work, which is another thing to worry about less. On that note, and the hardest thing I have to do, is deal with those jerks. I can't just ignore them; that failed the first time. But actual fights would be even worse. The only choices are to be in a position where I won't be an easy target for the taunting jerks, or to actually respond. It can't be angry or aggressive, but assertive and questioning. Make them the focus of come discomfort and embarrassment, and they'll either move on or actually improve themselves.
The end result has 28 year old me again. Here, I have friends from other times, at least beyond the mere couple I have now. I could even have dated one or more of them, or even end up married to one. I also would have accomplished artistic things from even early times. I'd have writings, paintings, even musical performances from when I was a child. It beats trying to stay awake during songs I can't sing. Admittedly, I still have some old newspapers and the yearbooks from high school, but that's still not as variety, and certainly not as personal, as the work I could have done. Besides, I still would have had written stories from them in this version.
That's me, knowing what I know now, if I could redo my childhood, especially everything after the family moved when I was 7. That was sort of the sticking point for much of my life. Now, may I ask, what would you change, hypothetical readers? Assuming I have any? As for me, I'll be writing another of these posts in the next few of this topic. But this time, more boobs will be involved! At a personal level! So it could get weird.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Reviews: More Vampires, but Flatter
Today's review is for Blood+, an anime recently airing on Cartoon Network. Like every anime on Cartoon Network lately, I didn't watch it live. I get tapes of the show as they got collected, so I can watch it in bulk. Yes, tapes; I mean VHS tapes. I am one billion years old.
But we're here to talk about the show. Blood+ is a pseudo-sequel to an animated movie called Blood: The Last Vampire, which I never watched, but it's not essential. The TV series summed up the movie's plot as it went, so I never had trouble understanding what happened back then. The series is basically a dark, M-rated action/horror series about vampire hunting. The main character is Saya, a seemingly normal teenaged girl. This changed as she learned she was destined to hunt a race of monsters called Chiropterans, which are basically vampire. Yeah, it's kinda like Buffy.
But that basic premise doesn't last long. Saya is in fact a Chiropteran/vampire/whatever herself, but she belongs to a different family, and the two are naturally opposed. In fact, her blood was the only normal weapon to kill them. There were downsides, though, including having amnesia for her past life and the fact she has to go into a dormant sleep every few years, and she has to sleep for thirty years every time.
As she learns the truth, she teams with a group of allies, including her adopted family, a vampire servant she created, and a secret society tasked at hunting down the bad vampires. But the bad vampires aren't exactly willing to stand around waiting to die. They have armies of the generic vampires (which look a bit like feral horse/bat things,) almost a half-dozen of the upper-tier vampires, government ties, genetically engineered vampire-based weapons, and plans to infect and transform countless humans into vampires en masse. Plus there's their queen, who has the same advantages and weaknesses as Saya and is evil, or at least sociopathic and crazy.
The show has both strengths and weaknesses. Strengths include the fact that at no point is this a Monster of the Week series. The initial arc starts with Saya hacking apart generic vampires, but from there on, the series bounds across the globe, from Vietnam to Russia to France to New York, with story arcs at each location. Each covers more of the plans and history of the villains, include revelations about Saya's past, and features some growth among the protagonists. This is definitely a tragic series, and many characters, good and evil, suffer and/or die, often in ways you wouldn't believe even Adult Swim would go. Most of the villains also aren't generic "mwa ha ha" villains; they often have their own motivations and fight amongst themselves.
The downsides are the occasional tendency for nothing to happen. One problem is that the generic vampires sort of disappear from the action after a few story arcs. This only leaves the evil chiropteran queen and her top-tier minions as antagonists. And all of them are much, much better than our protagonist is. As for Saya, she's sort of useless combat-wise as well. That's reasonable, given the amnesia and initial tendency to think of herself as a normal girl, but it means that the game's have a whole lot of our heroine relying on getting help from her friends and not doing anything herself. This often gets ridiculous near the end; any one of the main villains could kill her easily, but they always choose not to, episode after episode. Suspension of disbelief started to take a hit, which you never want to happen in a vampire series. Let's face, there are often easy if goofy ways to kill normal vampires, like water guns filled with holy water. You ignore these things in a good vampire series, like Buffy, because it doesn't fit the show's feel, but kill the feel and you turn skeptical. Blood+ vampires are immune to most vampire weaknesses, even light and stakes to the heart, but they're not completely invincible. Saya's blood is the only way to easily kill them, but pretty much anyone can be tied up, manacled, tossed in a safe, immersed in cement or molten iron, or tossed in a volcano. It would sure beat shooting at enemies who are bulletproof, wouldn't it?
So it's not Buffy, or Angel, or anything of that sort. It nonetheless was a dark, interesting series with many complex characters, and the problems only really start to develop in the second half. If you assume the series is not perfect, tends to degrade in the second half, and features less action than you might expect from vampire hunters, you can get a good time. And the series is only 50 pages total. After stuff like Bleach, that's refreshingly short. I'd give it a B. It hasn't inspired me much by itself, but it gave me some ideas about how to make a story of this sort, including how to and how to not do it right.
But we're here to talk about the show. Blood+ is a pseudo-sequel to an animated movie called Blood: The Last Vampire, which I never watched, but it's not essential. The TV series summed up the movie's plot as it went, so I never had trouble understanding what happened back then. The series is basically a dark, M-rated action/horror series about vampire hunting. The main character is Saya, a seemingly normal teenaged girl. This changed as she learned she was destined to hunt a race of monsters called Chiropterans, which are basically vampire. Yeah, it's kinda like Buffy.
But that basic premise doesn't last long. Saya is in fact a Chiropteran/vampire/whatever herself, but she belongs to a different family, and the two are naturally opposed. In fact, her blood was the only normal weapon to kill them. There were downsides, though, including having amnesia for her past life and the fact she has to go into a dormant sleep every few years, and she has to sleep for thirty years every time.
As she learns the truth, she teams with a group of allies, including her adopted family, a vampire servant she created, and a secret society tasked at hunting down the bad vampires. But the bad vampires aren't exactly willing to stand around waiting to die. They have armies of the generic vampires (which look a bit like feral horse/bat things,) almost a half-dozen of the upper-tier vampires, government ties, genetically engineered vampire-based weapons, and plans to infect and transform countless humans into vampires en masse. Plus there's their queen, who has the same advantages and weaknesses as Saya and is evil, or at least sociopathic and crazy.
The show has both strengths and weaknesses. Strengths include the fact that at no point is this a Monster of the Week series. The initial arc starts with Saya hacking apart generic vampires, but from there on, the series bounds across the globe, from Vietnam to Russia to France to New York, with story arcs at each location. Each covers more of the plans and history of the villains, include revelations about Saya's past, and features some growth among the protagonists. This is definitely a tragic series, and many characters, good and evil, suffer and/or die, often in ways you wouldn't believe even Adult Swim would go. Most of the villains also aren't generic "mwa ha ha" villains; they often have their own motivations and fight amongst themselves.
The downsides are the occasional tendency for nothing to happen. One problem is that the generic vampires sort of disappear from the action after a few story arcs. This only leaves the evil chiropteran queen and her top-tier minions as antagonists. And all of them are much, much better than our protagonist is. As for Saya, she's sort of useless combat-wise as well. That's reasonable, given the amnesia and initial tendency to think of herself as a normal girl, but it means that the game's have a whole lot of our heroine relying on getting help from her friends and not doing anything herself. This often gets ridiculous near the end; any one of the main villains could kill her easily, but they always choose not to, episode after episode. Suspension of disbelief started to take a hit, which you never want to happen in a vampire series. Let's face, there are often easy if goofy ways to kill normal vampires, like water guns filled with holy water. You ignore these things in a good vampire series, like Buffy, because it doesn't fit the show's feel, but kill the feel and you turn skeptical. Blood+ vampires are immune to most vampire weaknesses, even light and stakes to the heart, but they're not completely invincible. Saya's blood is the only way to easily kill them, but pretty much anyone can be tied up, manacled, tossed in a safe, immersed in cement or molten iron, or tossed in a volcano. It would sure beat shooting at enemies who are bulletproof, wouldn't it?
So it's not Buffy, or Angel, or anything of that sort. It nonetheless was a dark, interesting series with many complex characters, and the problems only really start to develop in the second half. If you assume the series is not perfect, tends to degrade in the second half, and features less action than you might expect from vampire hunters, you can get a good time. And the series is only 50 pages total. After stuff like Bleach, that's refreshingly short. I'd give it a B. It hasn't inspired me much by itself, but it gave me some ideas about how to make a story of this sort, including how to and how to not do it right.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
My Inspirations: Groundhog's Video Game
Like most video gamers who've been at this since the 80s, I'm a fan of Nintendo's games, especially the big-name ones around since my childhood. This means Mario, Zelda, Metroid, all the hits. It doesn't yet mean most of the new stuff, especially on the DS, since a) I don't have that system, as I barely had a gap in my schedule when playing console games, and b) I'm generally opposed to games that make you yell at them, blow at them, or play them in direct sunlight. Especially portable games.
The Zelda series holds a place in my heart as a result, but while it always entertained me, it hasn't inspired me that much. I don't know why; they certainly have impressed me, but other Action-RPGs, like Secret of Mana, tend to influence my work more. There are exceptions, of course, but the one game that affected me the most was one of the more obscure games in the series. That game is Majora's Mask.
The most recent Zelda game, Twilight Princess, defied tradition by being the first Teen-rated game in the series; earlier ones for aimed at a younger market and closer to the E or E10 range. But it wasn't the most adult game of the series, nor the darkest. That right belongs to Majora. The game has humble origins. While most Nintendo systems after the original intentionally only had one "real" game of their flagship series like Mario and Zelda, Majora was the second game on the N64, meaning it followed Ocarina of Time, arguably the most famous and defining game of the series. And it differed from its predecessor minimally; both used the same graphics and engine, and it even recycled most of the enemies, friendly NPCs and weapons from Ocarina.
The focus on the game's development, therefore was on the gameplay. From the outside, the game operates like nearly every Zelda game. The world of Majora's Mask has a large world, containing numerous environments from swamps and forests to oceans to mountains. As Link, the game's protagonist, he had to use his combat skills, other mobility skills, and a wide range of items to get to the dungeons of the game. Defeating all the dungeons' bosses will get access to the game's final boss. The most noteworthy of these items are magic masks. You can collect over twenty of them, and all had properties, from just provoking reactions when interacting with some people to completely transforming Link into new bodies.
The best gameplay feature, however, was that the game only gave the player three "days" to save the world, where each day was somewhere around a half an hour to an hour in real time. It's nigh impossible to beat the entire game in three hours, but the game made up for this by letting you magically transport yourself to the start of that time limit. It works like an actiony equivalent to "Groundhog Day," especially since important items like the masks will go back in time with Link.
Everything else, however, won't stay the same, and that is where the beauty of the game starts. The game takes place in Termina, an alternate universe version of the main Zelda setting of Hyrule (hence the recycled NPCs,) and the three day limit is justified by, well, the world ending. Specifically, the moon was enchanted by the game's main villain and will crash onto middle of Termina's capital in three days. And boy do the people now it. That's the first sign of how serious the game is; all the NPCs you speak to are afraid that they and everyone else will die in three days, and it's leading to fighting, irrationality, and quite understandable fear.
To combat this emotional response, though, Link is given ways to help (besides stopping the apocalypse.) In addition to normal items, Link has a journal that mentions all noteworthy characters, listing their motivations and showing when important events happen related to that person. Using the three-day schedule, it's possible to plan for when and how to help people. This can be as simple as listening to a grandmother tell old stories to reuniting a cursed and separated couple. Everyone you help will give you something, but also changes their life.
Until time resets again. And that sense of nihilism provides a nice balance. When you actually do save the world, you care far more than you would for the NPCs of most games, who offer a few static comments and otherwise don't do anything. It even sets up challenges like trying to save everyone, or at least as many people as possible, on the same time cycle that you beat the game. In Majora's Mask, that's not just a test of game skills, it feels like a moral victory.
What has this game, which on a good day is listed among my top 3 favorite games, inspired me to do with my games? Most importantly, it means that you can save a city, a country, a planet, or even the whole damn universe, and it won't mean a thing emotionally if you don't care about the people who actually live there. It also was one of the very rare games that, at the end, made me cry. On the other hand, it did introduce us to Tingle. But no game's perfect.
The Zelda series holds a place in my heart as a result, but while it always entertained me, it hasn't inspired me that much. I don't know why; they certainly have impressed me, but other Action-RPGs, like Secret of Mana, tend to influence my work more. There are exceptions, of course, but the one game that affected me the most was one of the more obscure games in the series. That game is Majora's Mask.
The most recent Zelda game, Twilight Princess, defied tradition by being the first Teen-rated game in the series; earlier ones for aimed at a younger market and closer to the E or E10 range. But it wasn't the most adult game of the series, nor the darkest. That right belongs to Majora. The game has humble origins. While most Nintendo systems after the original intentionally only had one "real" game of their flagship series like Mario and Zelda, Majora was the second game on the N64, meaning it followed Ocarina of Time, arguably the most famous and defining game of the series. And it differed from its predecessor minimally; both used the same graphics and engine, and it even recycled most of the enemies, friendly NPCs and weapons from Ocarina.
The focus on the game's development, therefore was on the gameplay. From the outside, the game operates like nearly every Zelda game. The world of Majora's Mask has a large world, containing numerous environments from swamps and forests to oceans to mountains. As Link, the game's protagonist, he had to use his combat skills, other mobility skills, and a wide range of items to get to the dungeons of the game. Defeating all the dungeons' bosses will get access to the game's final boss. The most noteworthy of these items are magic masks. You can collect over twenty of them, and all had properties, from just provoking reactions when interacting with some people to completely transforming Link into new bodies.
The best gameplay feature, however, was that the game only gave the player three "days" to save the world, where each day was somewhere around a half an hour to an hour in real time. It's nigh impossible to beat the entire game in three hours, but the game made up for this by letting you magically transport yourself to the start of that time limit. It works like an actiony equivalent to "Groundhog Day," especially since important items like the masks will go back in time with Link.
Everything else, however, won't stay the same, and that is where the beauty of the game starts. The game takes place in Termina, an alternate universe version of the main Zelda setting of Hyrule (hence the recycled NPCs,) and the three day limit is justified by, well, the world ending. Specifically, the moon was enchanted by the game's main villain and will crash onto middle of Termina's capital in three days. And boy do the people now it. That's the first sign of how serious the game is; all the NPCs you speak to are afraid that they and everyone else will die in three days, and it's leading to fighting, irrationality, and quite understandable fear.
To combat this emotional response, though, Link is given ways to help (besides stopping the apocalypse.) In addition to normal items, Link has a journal that mentions all noteworthy characters, listing their motivations and showing when important events happen related to that person. Using the three-day schedule, it's possible to plan for when and how to help people. This can be as simple as listening to a grandmother tell old stories to reuniting a cursed and separated couple. Everyone you help will give you something, but also changes their life.
Until time resets again. And that sense of nihilism provides a nice balance. When you actually do save the world, you care far more than you would for the NPCs of most games, who offer a few static comments and otherwise don't do anything. It even sets up challenges like trying to save everyone, or at least as many people as possible, on the same time cycle that you beat the game. In Majora's Mask, that's not just a test of game skills, it feels like a moral victory.
What has this game, which on a good day is listed among my top 3 favorite games, inspired me to do with my games? Most importantly, it means that you can save a city, a country, a planet, or even the whole damn universe, and it won't mean a thing emotionally if you don't care about the people who actually live there. It also was one of the very rare games that, at the end, made me cry. On the other hand, it did introduce us to Tingle. But no game's perfect.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
My Ideas: Writing Done Fast
About five years ago, my writing skill was limited mostly to design documents and RPG adventures. In 2003, though, that changed, because I learned one of the strongest motivations I apparently have; being dared. This brings us to National Novel Writing Month, or Nanowrimo as its fans call it. Which is ironic, since National Novel Writing Month is dedicated to writing as many words as possible. The premise is simple. Take the month of November. Use it to write. Specifically, write 50,000 words in those 30 days. Said project should ideally include the beginning and end of a novel, but the only requirement is that all the words be written during that period. The end result is short, but it isn't nonetheless incomplete. After all, my two favorite novels overall, Brave New World and A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, both are under 50,000 words. It's quite an accomplishment, really. And so, starting in 2003, I tried to succeed. Four out of five times, I succeeded, and that one year, 2005, I deliberately never started, concentrating instead on other writing projects of the time. I have to admit, though, that there were complications that I never expected. For example, I never thought it would be so easy, and that unnerves me. When I started, I tried to be prepared. I started in a setting I used for years (specifically, the same one Dot was from,) and based in on an idea that I had years ago. I created an outline, figured out the names of each chapter, summarized what will happen, and even estimate how many pages and words each chapter would take. Of course, I made the subject extremely simple as an introduction. Honestly, most of the novel takes place in and revolves around people playing a game show. This is not a tough format to work with. I won by a couple hundred words. I was so proud of the work that I decided to do it again next year, but up the ante a bit. I still had an outline and the same setting, but I made the plot more complex and original. I beat it by about 1,000 words. On 2006, I actually used Dot and tried to make it more ambitious in length and concept than the last one, and after getting about 60,000 words, I did alright. But since then, it's been a bit trickier. In 2007, I deliberate flew without my normal safety nets. I used a different setting, had a grand total of one character I ever created before, and used almost no outline. I still finished, but only by about 700 words. Admittedly, life was more difficult and stressful that month than normal Nanowrimos. And I appreciate these challenges. I know that Nanowrimo won't make me the next Steven King. But if they make me a better writer, it's worth the stress. But there's a reason I'm writing about Nanowrimo some 5 months from my last novel. In March, I learned from Nanowrimo's links that there was a similar challenge in April. Dubbed ScriptFrenzy, It's pretty much exactly like it says. Instead of writing 50,000 words, the challenge is to write 100 pages in a screenplay. Since a novel is normally about 200+ pages and contains more words of the oddly formatted and dialogue heavy screenplay, it should be shorter. But it's something new, at least. And if I can't get into video game design, my next greatest hope is to write a pilot for a television show or a screenplay for a movie. Creation is creation, especially if my "narrative and story is bad" fears about the video game industry are ongoing trends. So, if you were wondering, this is the first reason why I couldn't write as many of these blogs any more, but with my other goals to get a new job and move in the next few months, it was possibly inevitable anyway. But I think I can at least write a screenplay as these steps begin. How hard can it be? I mean, I just wrote over 680 words right here!
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Reviews: An Obscure One This Time.
Another writing project is my current obsession and I'll get into details about that later this week, but I do have some time for a review. But this will be a review that not everyone will understand; it's a bit specialized. The book I'm reviewing is the Tome of Magic, a supplement for the Dungeons and Dragons game, so it'll get more into technical details than most reviews will.
The Tome of Magic is basically a description of three new classes for the Dungeons and Dragons game, each with its own new type of magic system. Each one is related to the core systems, but they have their own methods casting "spells" or other, similar powers. With each class comes descriptions of specialized prestige classes that use that system, organizations related to or opposing to that system, new magic items, and even related monsters. For all intents and purposes, each of the three systems is its own book, so I'll review each one separately.
The first system is called pact magic. This system doesn't even count as a spell-casting system. Instead, its users, who are known as binders, summon powerful and mystical beings who exist between life and death, outside of time and space as normally conceived of. These creatures give the binder various abilities, including some spell-like powers. Instead of a normal wizard class, then, the class lets the binder imitate numerous class roles, based upon which creatures it bound with. They can be mini-spell casters, limited rogues, or even competent fighters. The concept is sound, even if the creatures are strange, but the story around the concept (called "fluff" in role-playing terms,) is very silly. Basically, all binders are often considered to be evil or dangerous, and there are even good classes like paladins who are willing to ally with evil classes and kill innocent binders just based on the concept. This makes no sense; paladins are in direct contact with their gods. Either the binders are really so dangerous that this violent extremism is necessary, in which case it probably shouldn't be a playable class or there should at least have some mechanical elements, or they're fine, and thus the good gods are perfectly willing to let their holiest warrior slaughter innocents.
The second system is probably my favorite. Dubbed shadow magic, it's the closest to normal magic, though the means of gaining spells is different. It has different paths of magic, and every level the caster can choose to advance to the better spells in a path or pick a new path. There's a choice here; advancing a path will get the caster more powerful spells faster, but a new path will give the caster new feats. Also, though the spells initially count as spells, as they gain levels, the lower level spell paths can be used more often and are easier to cast; they eventually turn into simple supernatural abilities that can be used out of a force of will. The spells themselves are designed around the concept of targeting individual targets instead of, say, blowing up everyone in a room with a fireball, but the tactics are relatively similar. The concept's fluff is also nice; it ties into the Shadow Plane, a unique element of the Dungeon and Dragon cosmology, and uses many obscure but interesting monsters and organizations inside the game.
The last set, however, was also the weakest. Truename magic, which works on the concept that everything in the universe has a unique word that define it, has a number of problems, starting with the mechanics. I'll try to explain it without getting technicals. The truename "spells" can be used more or less endlessly, but each use requires a skill check. Skill checks, in Dungeons and Dragons, raise by 1 every level. The DC to win a skill check, however, raises based on the CR (the level of a creature, which is usually the same as the player's level,) times 2. So just accomplishing anything and not being useless gets harder every single level. The only alternative is to use feats, magic items, and everything else just to balance out the inherent weakness of the class; a taboo in this system. The fluff isn't much better; these unique words are nonsensical collections of syllables, like "Basnublua'gah," and the system assumes that the casters will be using these words with every spell! This is about as annoying as expecting bards to sing every time they used their powers. I can't see myself using this spell system at all without some changes, starting with a complete renovation of the skill check and removing a lot of the nonsense about learning personal true names.
So, that's two out of three systems that are remotely useful. For a supplement, that's not too horrible. I can even see using a binder or shadow caster as an NPC in one of my games or playing as one should I be in a position to do so soon. I would have to say B- or C+ would be fair, given the general weakness of that last third.
The Tome of Magic is basically a description of three new classes for the Dungeons and Dragons game, each with its own new type of magic system. Each one is related to the core systems, but they have their own methods casting "spells" or other, similar powers. With each class comes descriptions of specialized prestige classes that use that system, organizations related to or opposing to that system, new magic items, and even related monsters. For all intents and purposes, each of the three systems is its own book, so I'll review each one separately.
The first system is called pact magic. This system doesn't even count as a spell-casting system. Instead, its users, who are known as binders, summon powerful and mystical beings who exist between life and death, outside of time and space as normally conceived of. These creatures give the binder various abilities, including some spell-like powers. Instead of a normal wizard class, then, the class lets the binder imitate numerous class roles, based upon which creatures it bound with. They can be mini-spell casters, limited rogues, or even competent fighters. The concept is sound, even if the creatures are strange, but the story around the concept (called "fluff" in role-playing terms,) is very silly. Basically, all binders are often considered to be evil or dangerous, and there are even good classes like paladins who are willing to ally with evil classes and kill innocent binders just based on the concept. This makes no sense; paladins are in direct contact with their gods. Either the binders are really so dangerous that this violent extremism is necessary, in which case it probably shouldn't be a playable class or there should at least have some mechanical elements, or they're fine, and thus the good gods are perfectly willing to let their holiest warrior slaughter innocents.
The second system is probably my favorite. Dubbed shadow magic, it's the closest to normal magic, though the means of gaining spells is different. It has different paths of magic, and every level the caster can choose to advance to the better spells in a path or pick a new path. There's a choice here; advancing a path will get the caster more powerful spells faster, but a new path will give the caster new feats. Also, though the spells initially count as spells, as they gain levels, the lower level spell paths can be used more often and are easier to cast; they eventually turn into simple supernatural abilities that can be used out of a force of will. The spells themselves are designed around the concept of targeting individual targets instead of, say, blowing up everyone in a room with a fireball, but the tactics are relatively similar. The concept's fluff is also nice; it ties into the Shadow Plane, a unique element of the Dungeon and Dragon cosmology, and uses many obscure but interesting monsters and organizations inside the game.
The last set, however, was also the weakest. Truename magic, which works on the concept that everything in the universe has a unique word that define it, has a number of problems, starting with the mechanics. I'll try to explain it without getting technicals. The truename "spells" can be used more or less endlessly, but each use requires a skill check. Skill checks, in Dungeons and Dragons, raise by 1 every level. The DC to win a skill check, however, raises based on the CR (the level of a creature, which is usually the same as the player's level,) times 2. So just accomplishing anything and not being useless gets harder every single level. The only alternative is to use feats, magic items, and everything else just to balance out the inherent weakness of the class; a taboo in this system. The fluff isn't much better; these unique words are nonsensical collections of syllables, like "Basnublua'gah," and the system assumes that the casters will be using these words with every spell! This is about as annoying as expecting bards to sing every time they used their powers. I can't see myself using this spell system at all without some changes, starting with a complete renovation of the skill check and removing a lot of the nonsense about learning personal true names.
So, that's two out of three systems that are remotely useful. For a supplement, that's not too horrible. I can even see using a binder or shadow caster as an NPC in one of my games or playing as one should I be in a position to do so soon. I would have to say B- or C+ would be fair, given the general weakness of that last third.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Rantings: Why Movie Games Suck, A Counter-Example
This might be a shorter post than usual, for reasons I intend to get into about Tuesday. However, this topic is also fresh on my mind, again for reasons to be detailed later. Tonight, we'll continue the topic I believe I first mentioned in the very first week of this blog; movies based on video games, and why they usually suck. This time, I'll offer some suggestions for a movie that could break this trend. My example will be God of War, for various reasons I mostly covered last time, but let's review. First, the game is comparatively short (about 5-8 hours on a first play through seems to be the norm,) and it's divided into only a few major locations. Thus, it's not television-length, as many video games are. Second, the game already uses many techniques more common in cinema, from the narrator to the flashbacks, encouraging a backstory while at the same time keeping the emphasis on action, as an action movie should. Finally, the main character, Kratos, is much better defined in terms of story, motivation, iconic appearance, and personality than, say, Mario.
The game will start just like the game. Kratos will announce that the gods have abandoned him, and he will try to commit suicide by walking off of a cliff. The game will cut back to explain who this man is and how he got to that level of despair. Just like in the game, he will be ordered to save a ship under attack by the hydra. The movie's version will be shorter, featuring him arriving, saving the crew from the monsters. Well, some of them. Just like the game, most non-Kratos characters will not have a very happy fate. Another thing that must happen in the movie is feature characters for Kratos to interact with. In the game, most people tend up being killed by Kratos or a monster within minutes. In this case, the ship's captain will meet Kratos early on, ineffectually help, and almost get eaten by the Hydra.
This begs the first question: will Kratos actually let the captain die in the movie, heartlessly abandoning him after getting a key he needs and then, if I remember right, kicking the guy down the hydra's gullet, or at least letting him slip the rest of the way. In this version, I would probably do the same, but make it more ambiguous. He takes the key and leaves, having otherwise ignored him. The reason for the key in the game was to rescue the women and children of the boat, who were kept in safety in the locked room. This...didn't work. By the time Kratos returned, they were being massacred. This is a tough scene to add. On one hand, his response to women in general, and their deaths in particular, is a major plot point related to Kratos' history. However, the general use of women as victims in the original God of War might not work in a movie. Though if 300 could get away with worse, who knows? I might make it a specific woman and/or child, perhaps one that Athena requested that he rescue, to make it more personal.
Either way, Kratos failed, and instead of cutting to the next level, the movie will feature some of the introductory material only found in the instruction booklet. In this case, Areas mocks Athena and makes his plans to attack her city of Athens, setting up the conflict of the gods that starts the main plot. Enter Kratos. Athena tells Kratos to stop Ares, and this, plus the woman he tried to rescue, explains that Kratos works under Athena's command, despite not seemingly being compatible with her message of wisdom, as part of a life of penance. He arrives and has to meet the Oracle of Athens in the city, who can give him a way for a mortal to slay a god.
So, Kratos arrives and kicks butt, but again this is much shorter than the game. There's a new monster, but it's a major boss encounter against an originally normal enemy, like a gorgon or cyclops instead of a few hundred mooks. He then learns from her that he must go to retrieve the Pandora's Box. And so, they head off. Yes, they. Once again, Kratos needs someone to interact with besides his own memories, so the oracle, abandoned after her rescue until the very end of the game, will become the default foil. The desert level will go away completely, except for a few moments of exposition, as Oracle asks about why he allied with Athena, and while he rejects her questions, the narrator will not, covering about half of the back story the game presented. This could even be prompted, not by the desert journey itself, but by another scene from the game while in Athens. In the game, Kratos meets a citizen, who flees at the sight of him, more scared of him than she is of the monsters. In the end, she even plummets out of a window, choosing death by falling to encounter with Kratos.
But eventually they reach the Temple of Pandora, which takes up a good half of the game, but here it barely covers a few scene. Another awkward moment of morality comes up, where Kratos has to sacrifice a captured soldier, an absolute innocent, to solve a puzzle. This time, the scene from the game will appear, contrasting the Oracle's morality with the indication of Kratos' absolute obsession with his quest. This brings up the second half of the back story, finally revealing that Kratos, who previously pledged absolute loyalty to Ares, only for him to trick him into killing his own wife and daughter. He rejected his former master and allied with Athena as a result, less out of actual guilt and more to escape the constant nightmares of what he did. The brief temple bit ends with a fight against a giant, armored minotaur, just as it did in the game, but when Kratos got the Box, Ares was prepared for this and ambushed him, killing him and taking the Box and the Oracle. In the game, Kratos fought his way out of Hades himself, with the help of a mysterious grave-digger. We'll get back to that point later. The game/movie ends with Kratos returning to get the power of Pandora's Box and fight Ares, only to lose his weapons and have to confront his past, but the fates themselves seem to assist him, giving him a weapon capable of killing Ares.
It's here that the plot diverges one last time. In the game, Kratos, having learned that even the gods can't remove his nightmares, tries to kill himself, but the gods instead turn him into the new God of War, a role he seemingly fills for all eternity. The game offered a few bonus hints about possible sequels, but nothing concrete. The movie's ending is similar, but without the finality, since the sequel had since come out and there was no need to end the first plotline with such a resolved ending. Kratos becomes God of War, but there are no hints that it lasts for long, and in fact Kratos seems to be in despair at the thought of eternal life.
This is not a movie with a happy ending. Kratos is after all barely a hero, so his story is not good defeating evil, it's about the futility of obsession and the willingness to do anything for your own supposed redemption. The movie also explicitly reveals that Zeus himself was the gravedigger who saved Kratos, which the game barely hinted at, suggesting that Zeus has further plans for Kratos and even engineered this entire plan for his own advantage, suggesting that Zeus is the true villain of the series, or at least the chief conspirator. I doubt this would win any Emmies, but this at least offers most of the game's strengths, including the violence, the tragic yet inspiring hero, and the massive battles against seemingly impossible foes. And it shows that video games offer more than the most simplistic of plots. Kratos is ultimately a failure, even if his plans do save a city, and his hubris and that of those who use him will lead to tragedies beyond this single plot. There are other games that offer this possibility, including ICO and/or Shadow of the Colossus and Metal Gear Solid. Let's see which one gets the treatment next, whether that means my treatment or that of people with a hundred million dollars to spare.
The game will start just like the game. Kratos will announce that the gods have abandoned him, and he will try to commit suicide by walking off of a cliff. The game will cut back to explain who this man is and how he got to that level of despair. Just like in the game, he will be ordered to save a ship under attack by the hydra. The movie's version will be shorter, featuring him arriving, saving the crew from the monsters. Well, some of them. Just like the game, most non-Kratos characters will not have a very happy fate. Another thing that must happen in the movie is feature characters for Kratos to interact with. In the game, most people tend up being killed by Kratos or a monster within minutes. In this case, the ship's captain will meet Kratos early on, ineffectually help, and almost get eaten by the Hydra.
This begs the first question: will Kratos actually let the captain die in the movie, heartlessly abandoning him after getting a key he needs and then, if I remember right, kicking the guy down the hydra's gullet, or at least letting him slip the rest of the way. In this version, I would probably do the same, but make it more ambiguous. He takes the key and leaves, having otherwise ignored him. The reason for the key in the game was to rescue the women and children of the boat, who were kept in safety in the locked room. This...didn't work. By the time Kratos returned, they were being massacred. This is a tough scene to add. On one hand, his response to women in general, and their deaths in particular, is a major plot point related to Kratos' history. However, the general use of women as victims in the original God of War might not work in a movie. Though if 300 could get away with worse, who knows? I might make it a specific woman and/or child, perhaps one that Athena requested that he rescue, to make it more personal.
Either way, Kratos failed, and instead of cutting to the next level, the movie will feature some of the introductory material only found in the instruction booklet. In this case, Areas mocks Athena and makes his plans to attack her city of Athens, setting up the conflict of the gods that starts the main plot. Enter Kratos. Athena tells Kratos to stop Ares, and this, plus the woman he tried to rescue, explains that Kratos works under Athena's command, despite not seemingly being compatible with her message of wisdom, as part of a life of penance. He arrives and has to meet the Oracle of Athens in the city, who can give him a way for a mortal to slay a god.
So, Kratos arrives and kicks butt, but again this is much shorter than the game. There's a new monster, but it's a major boss encounter against an originally normal enemy, like a gorgon or cyclops instead of a few hundred mooks. He then learns from her that he must go to retrieve the Pandora's Box. And so, they head off. Yes, they. Once again, Kratos needs someone to interact with besides his own memories, so the oracle, abandoned after her rescue until the very end of the game, will become the default foil. The desert level will go away completely, except for a few moments of exposition, as Oracle asks about why he allied with Athena, and while he rejects her questions, the narrator will not, covering about half of the back story the game presented. This could even be prompted, not by the desert journey itself, but by another scene from the game while in Athens. In the game, Kratos meets a citizen, who flees at the sight of him, more scared of him than she is of the monsters. In the end, she even plummets out of a window, choosing death by falling to encounter with Kratos.
But eventually they reach the Temple of Pandora, which takes up a good half of the game, but here it barely covers a few scene. Another awkward moment of morality comes up, where Kratos has to sacrifice a captured soldier, an absolute innocent, to solve a puzzle. This time, the scene from the game will appear, contrasting the Oracle's morality with the indication of Kratos' absolute obsession with his quest. This brings up the second half of the back story, finally revealing that Kratos, who previously pledged absolute loyalty to Ares, only for him to trick him into killing his own wife and daughter. He rejected his former master and allied with Athena as a result, less out of actual guilt and more to escape the constant nightmares of what he did. The brief temple bit ends with a fight against a giant, armored minotaur, just as it did in the game, but when Kratos got the Box, Ares was prepared for this and ambushed him, killing him and taking the Box and the Oracle. In the game, Kratos fought his way out of Hades himself, with the help of a mysterious grave-digger. We'll get back to that point later. The game/movie ends with Kratos returning to get the power of Pandora's Box and fight Ares, only to lose his weapons and have to confront his past, but the fates themselves seem to assist him, giving him a weapon capable of killing Ares.
It's here that the plot diverges one last time. In the game, Kratos, having learned that even the gods can't remove his nightmares, tries to kill himself, but the gods instead turn him into the new God of War, a role he seemingly fills for all eternity. The game offered a few bonus hints about possible sequels, but nothing concrete. The movie's ending is similar, but without the finality, since the sequel had since come out and there was no need to end the first plotline with such a resolved ending. Kratos becomes God of War, but there are no hints that it lasts for long, and in fact Kratos seems to be in despair at the thought of eternal life.
This is not a movie with a happy ending. Kratos is after all barely a hero, so his story is not good defeating evil, it's about the futility of obsession and the willingness to do anything for your own supposed redemption. The movie also explicitly reveals that Zeus himself was the gravedigger who saved Kratos, which the game barely hinted at, suggesting that Zeus has further plans for Kratos and even engineered this entire plan for his own advantage, suggesting that Zeus is the true villain of the series, or at least the chief conspirator. I doubt this would win any Emmies, but this at least offers most of the game's strengths, including the violence, the tragic yet inspiring hero, and the massive battles against seemingly impossible foes. And it shows that video games offer more than the most simplistic of plots. Kratos is ultimately a failure, even if his plans do save a city, and his hubris and that of those who use him will lead to tragedies beyond this single plot. There are other games that offer this possibility, including ICO and/or Shadow of the Colossus and Metal Gear Solid. Let's see which one gets the treatment next, whether that means my treatment or that of people with a hundred million dollars to spare.
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