This post, like all of my ramblings, has to do with specific complaints about videogame plots and story premises in general. (Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep the use of the word ‘narrative’ to a minimum.) First, on my list of narrative annoyances: Evil. As the title of this piece suggests I’m sick of it. Every game, (and movie, or popular novel) it seems, features some sort of an ancient, newly discovered, supra-galactic, underground, Mayan, divine, satanic, it-was-man, undead, insectoid, magic, mechanical, cybernetic, EVIL force, character, or organization bent on destroying everything in existence. Worlds, galaxies, universes and parallel universes are ceaselessly under threat of obliteration. Existence as any one has ever known it or imagined it is constantly in jeopardy from some conscious Agent of Doom. This ensures that the stakes are always at their highest. → Double your reading, double your fun.
Sequels suck. Prequels putrefy. And spin-offs spin out of control. And yet, so often when a story we enjoy ends, whether in the terra-forming of Arrakis or bodily ascension to heaven, we are reluctant to let go. We refuse to accept that resurrecting something so that it can go on eternally is usually a bad idea (I’m looking at you evangelicals.) The exceptions, (and there are a few: Godfather II, Red Dragon, The Simpsons, The Bible Goes West) prove the rule. So, when one of these quality exceptions of a continuing storyline comes onto the scene, especially in our medium, I think it’s time to take a holiday from derision and give the credit where it’s due. Such is the case with Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn. So, sit back and let me tell you about the shining dawn of a radiant path in brilliant storytelling and those who have strayed from the light. → Gotta get down on Friday.
I have had an Xbox 360 for about three months. Under normal circumstances such a short period of time would never be enough to wear down the novelty of this fantastic new toy. However, about three weeks ago tragedy struck. (No red circles were involved, the box works fine). I accidentally deleted about 25 hours worth of progress in one of my all time favorite games: Culdcept. The second I realized what I had done, I almost vomited from grief. I had gotten more than halfway through the game collecting about 300 of the 500 available cards, and all of it went up in smoke with a simple misclick. For the following week I could not bring myself to play another game. I could not even look at my Xbox without feeling a pang of regret. → Virtua Poster 4: Evolution