Mirror's Edge and Cultural Synergy

Last year I saw a video featuring "Mirror's Edge-inspired parkour" and that got me thinking about that game. Time and time again, I have seen the name of Mirror's Edge pop up front and center whenever anybody talks about parkour in video games. If there's a discussion about freerunning in video games, Mirror's Edge will come up. If ever a game is modified to be more based around freerunning, that modification will often be labeled "Mirror's Edge-inspired." Parkour enthusiasts have rallied behind this game and adopted its art style as a symbol of the freerunning culture. What's the big deal? Last week I started up the game to find out.

For the uninitiated, Mirror's Edge is an action platforming game focused heavily on navigating through the world. The player character is armed only with a set of freerunning skills inspired by the acrobatic art of parkour. Instead of going down a beaten path, the player must climb to higher ground, leap across rooftops, run across walls, and generally use the urban terrain in any and every way to get from point A to point B. One aspect of the game that assists players is a mechanic called "Runner Vision," which represents the character's intuition for pathfinding. In the game, Runner Vision turns certain objects and platforms red to present a possible path or escape route. This often clashes highly with the game's normal pristine white environments and is part of the game's signature design.

The story introduces us to a dystopian city where the rich and powerful wield absolute control through coercion and surveillance. Any dissent is quickly put down. The only hope for any resistance is in a breed of athletic couriers called runners. The runners are the backbone of an information network that gives freedom fighters a chance. The player takes on the role of Faith Connors, a runner tasked with saving her sister's life and uncovering the truth of the ominous "Project Icarus."

Between chapters the story is told through more stylized animated cutscenes which have a bit of a noir feel

And let me tell you, this game is a wild ride all the way through. One moment you'll be freely leaping between rooftops. The next, you'll be running for your life from gunfire. The next, you'll find yourself indoors and needing to find your way up to an air vent. The next, chasing after a suspicious character who has information you need. Because the terrain is so important to how you progress, I can look at any set piece from this game and remember what it was like to find my way through it.

If you can't tell by now, I ended up liking the game. I'm not a parkour enthusiast myself, but watching their work and playing this game has clued me in to how they can swear by it and admit it into their culture. In fact, what I've observed researching this game rings true for many instances of video games based off of real-world cultures, hobbies, professions, etc.

First of all, Mirror's Edge is spot-on when it comes to simulating parkour with video game controls and a first-person perspective. Even if it's not perfect, you can tell a lot of effort and observation went into this game, and I think that's what really matters. There are plenty of games that feature characters that run and jump and navigate structures to get to their goals, but Mirror's Edge is one of the few first-person games that places it front and center. Barring moments when you may get stuck in a combat situation, you'll be running around and navigating terrain. In fact, the best idea when faced with enemies oftentimes is to find a route around and avoid them. You are encouraged to stay in motion and keep this about the freerunning, which is admirable.

You'll be seeing this view often as you tackle the game's many daunting jumps

It's worth mentioning that there is a rather neat combat system that incorporates your parkour skills, along with a gunplay aspect. Apparently the game's handling of guns leaves much to be desired, but I never bothered. And that's saying more about the athletic fisticuffs; I was having too much fun disarming opponents with well-timed counters and jump-kicking singled-out targets!

And that's the thing about video games which makes it exciting when there is one made based off of a real-life interest. A game can be as grounded in realism as much or as little the designers want it to be. Just because a game is realistic in some ways doesn't mean it can't be exaggerated in other ways for the sake of an enjoyable playing experience. In Mirror's Edge, failing a jump can cause you damage or kill you. If you take a jump slowly or from the wrong angle, it will take you more time to recover from it. If you approach the jump at the right angle while running at top speed, you can leap over obstacles and pull yourself up to higher ground faster. Those make sense because you're able to build up momentum and from a game standpoint you're rewarded for moving efficiently. Meanwhile, Faith always has perfect balance, never fails a saving roll after a high jump, and is generally never subjected to little unavoidable human errors that often lead to injury. Case in point, someone I know is learning parkour and he once hit his head on the ground practicing a standard rolling procedure. Faith will never do that. When you tell her to roll, she rolls and that's that.

The point I'm getting at is how there is some element of homage whenever a real-world interest inspires the mechanics of a video game. I can imagine there's something flattering to parkour enthusiasts about a video game in which the player saves the day with "the power of parkour," so to speak. Faith's freerunning skills are an exaggeration of real-life capabilities to present a flattering and entertaining image of parkour that can be enjoyed by everyone, enthusiast or non.

Here is the video that inspired this discussion. I believe the performer is intentionally emulating the feel of the game, which is really cool

In addition, by appearing as the protagonist and player character of this game, Faith has established herself as an icon of sorts. When a video game studio got the idea to make a game with parkour as a central mechanic, this character was created. Her being fictionalized and designed to represent an art serves to make her easier to rally around. Her look, her attire, her affinity for colors, became synonymous with her and the culture she was made to represent. There's some back and forth homage and inspiration at work. As a result of this character's creation and use in the game, parkour practitioners who are fans of the game seem to enjoy adopting those traits. For instance the runner symbol, the color motif of crimson against pristine white, and Faith's attire. I know of at least one video where Faith's signature red glove is prominent.

Having a real-life interest given the "video game treatment" can be an exciting thing. It represents the interest in new ways that can generate more interest from unlikely sources. The video game can then be used as a bridge between long-time practitioners and people who became curious because of the video game. On the other end, the interests represented can return the excitement back by representing the game in their real life practices. They can rally behind a common icon, that being the game, game world, or significant characters. There are a great many games that have been inspired by real world practices and had potential to enhance both. I'll quickly list a few others that may not be on the level of Mirror's Edge, but still show the creativity of video games as a medium.

Punch-Out!! is a very simple game, but it makes us all feel like heavyweights

One early example of video games taking inspiration from real life: Punch-Out!! for the Nintendo Entertainment System. This game plays more like an action puzzle game than it does a fully robust boxing simulator. The game misses out of the little nuances of boxing strategy that I cannot begin to comprehend in favor of reaction-based gameplay and pattern memorization. In the end, we still have a go-to video game for fictionalized and exaggerated boxing and all the fun that goes with it. I recall that the Wii installment in the series was met with great enthusiasm by a YouTube video creator who was big into boxing. The protagonist, the Rocky-inspired Little Mac, has come into his own as a boxing representative that gaming can call its own. And if these games have provoked any solitary individual into looking at real boxing, that aspect has also been fulfilled.

Ace Attorney is not a close law simulator, but it is a celebration of logic and situational awareness

Another noteworthy example: The Ace Attorney series known mostly for its protagonist Phoenix Wright. Ace Attorney hardly represents the legal process. In fact, it's more of a melodramatic detective series that boils down to proving clients' innocence in murder trials. But the characters, design, and stories are all their own while still inspired by the legal system. While we won't see Phoenix design contracts, settle out of court, or brush up on changes in law, one basic and key element is still represented: Logic. Phoenix still uses logic and his knowledge of the situation to reach conclusions which are both favorable and feasible. Though logic and the ability to see the bigger picture are small parts of being a lawyer, they're still vital, and Ace Attorney hits that note. At least I'd hope so. I haven't studied law, so I'm at the mercy of actual practitioners.

Confession time: I genuinely was a little bit obsessed with farming after first playing a Harvest Moon game

Last on my abridged list: Harvest Moon. Who would have thought a game about farming would be so popular and spawn a series that is still ongoing in more than one line of games? Clearly the designers, who started with the concept of a farming game and made it into a money-making game fueled by consistent small tasks. The amount of time it takes to grow crops and mature livestock is exaggeratedly quick, but the principles of day-to-day hard work are well represented. I'm not so sure Harvest Moon will make many farmers out of gamers, but teaching the work ethic of farmers still counts for a lot.

How about you? What are your noteworthy games inspired by real-world interests, hobbies, sports, professions, cultures, etc.? What fictional characters have you come to enjoy as a symbol of said culture? Or how has a game sparked any interest in a real-world practice? I want to hear from you.

Sly Cooper and M Plus One

I spent one magical week buried deep in Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus. I voraciously tore through the game's story and worked myself to the limit to clear the game's extra challenges. When I beat the game fully, I was rewarded with developer commentary unlocked for each stage. Whatever possessed me, I decided to take a listen. The Journey I took through Sly's development only made me appreciate the game all the more and introduced me to a fascinating concept: "M plus one."

For the uninitiated, Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus is a platforming game that challenges the player to win through stealth rather than combat. You play the role of the titular Sly Cooper, infamous thief, as he slinks, jumps, and swings around a wild variety of creative and stylish stages. In this game, the equally titular Thievius Raccoonus, a book containing the secrets of the Cooper family, has been stolen and separated page-by-page all over the world. Sly - and you - must use his family's legacy of skills and know-how to recover the pages, reassemble the heirloom, and thwart the ambitions of the villainous guilty party.

And I repeat, this is a stealth game. You are given a complex, hallway, building, etc. and your goal is to reach your target without being seen. All of the stages have tight security, so you'll be sneaking through the shadows, above everyone's heads, and taking shortcuts that keep you out of plain sight.  Therefore the environment design is very important not only to this game's presentation, but how it plays. Every power line, window, rail and pole is free game for getting around. And don't think this is all optional, because being caught or trying to engage an enemy head-on is recipe for disaster. You are a capable fighter able to single out targets, but you won't last long in a really hot area. Besides, it just feels cool to take secret paths and leap around rafters in a borderline parkour fashion.

You'll want to stay up and above this guard

I came for the story, the characters, the setting and the gameplay, and I stayed for the time trial challenges. Beating levels unlocks challenge versions of those stages. They aren't any different, but you'll be racing a strict timer. Beat the timer, and you beat the challenge. Beat the challenge, like I said above, and developer commentary is added to the game. And this isn't simply audio that you hear in a menu. The game actually places an object at the beginning of each stage that begins the audio log. If you're so inclined, you can play through the stage while the audio is playing. You can play the game and learn about the development process at the same time!

I essentially played the game three times. One for story, two for challenges, and third for the commentary. I am a complete sucker for any behind-the-scenes look at game creation, so I had no problem coasting through a third time with a developer talking in the background. Every stage had something new to note. The developer would talk about designing stages, character, enemies, the world, the story, and the gameplay. I distinctly remember one stage where the developer talked about how a stage's lighting worked for style and visibility. Sure enough, I looked around at the stage while I was hearing about the lighting and could absolutely see what the developer was talking about.

One topic that came up in the commentary was a concept called "M plus one." As described by the developer, M plus one is the design practice of introducing new concepts into the game and training the player to be proficient in those new concepts. "M" stands for "mechanic," and the "plus one" stands for the way which the game will gradually make the concept more challenging. This way, it forces the player to get better at that concept and prepare them for the puzzles and bosses ahead.

This game also has collectibles, colorful characters, great design, and more. I could go on but I can only fit so much in an article

Let's look at Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus as an example. If you want to get onto a higher platform, you jump to gain that height. However you can also jump to cross over gaps that you can't run over. Meanwhile, Sly has a cane that he uses in combat and as a way to operate levers. There are also poles that Sly can use his cane on to swing from and cross larger gaps. Now imagine instead of a gap, you're leaping off the side of a cliff and trying to land on a platform that is moving. See how M plus one works? You have these simple concepts, you hone them through a series of challenges, and then you combine these concepts to make all-new challenges that still fit with what you know about the game and the world.

Hearing it plainly like that is one thing, but where and when they place the commentary for their explanation could not be more perfect. You see, the explanation of M plus one comes relatively late in the game, when we've already had experience learning concepts and combining them without a name for it. In comes this developer talking about M plus one. At this point I am exploring around a casino-like stage while the developer rattles off examples of M plus one. And I kid you not, he talked about what I was doing at that exact moment.

In the casino stage, I was jumping between platforms. The platforms were actually large roulette tables, and they were spinning. This made it a little more difficult to jump properly since the very ground beneath me was moving me around. At the same time, there were bars of electricity that I had to jump over. When the roulettes weren't trying to spin me into those bars, they were spinning in the opposite direction of where I was trying to go so I would have a more difficult time jumping over the electricity! And right when I am dealing with this situation, the developer is talking about that very stage that I'm playing, that very obstacle I'm up against. I felt a connection with the developers at that moment. It really drove home for me that amount of care and planning went into this game.

The actual M plus one commentary - starts at about 1:38 in the video

My friends, I love this concept. It's one way to learn and I am pretty sure it's one of the most commonly employed methods of learning out there. But now we have a name for it, and a pretty cool name at that. The more I think about it, the more I realize it's good to have a name for the way we're learning and to really break it down. After all, what is one of the most common pieces of advice for tackling a large task? To break it down into smaller tasks. Good advice, but I know it's hard to do such breaking down when I'm flustered. The issue in my case is that I'm going the wrong way for my personal style. To break a big task down into smaller tasks, I'm still faced with making any sense of the daunting large task.

Using M plus one, however, the focus is on what I am capable of and how it equates to the end goal. For instance, I'm currently learning programming and have been tasked to make a bunch of programs from financial report generators to simple games. Often when I get these assignments, I look at what's required and my mind just burns out trying to figure out how to get there from a blank page of code. When I take inventory of what I know and how to use what I know to build up a program, I'm better able to calm down, find my center, and get to work.

If I want to make a calculator app, let's start from the ground up. I know how to make the program perform math functions. I know how to make the program take numbers from the user. I know how to make the program tell if the user puts in letters instead of numbers. I know how to make the program show the result of the equation. And so on and so on. From there, it's a matter of taking these things I know separately and combining them in a way that creates a program that acts like a calculator.

With some confidence and mastery of your basics, you too can be cool just like this speed runner!

This is a simple example, but it gets my point across. The real important part is to find where you are comfortable starting in your planning process and use that to its fullest effect. There are plenty of projects where you'll need to start from the top in order to spread the work among a team. But eventually, you will have to start and you will start from some sort of bottom. If you're too focused on the top to do your job or do it well, then M plus one will help you gain that focus. In that sense, we may think of M plus one as a jumping-off point for a task or project rather than a full guide from start to finish. I know it helps me out to, at some point, look directly at what I am holding in my hands. Just like Sly Cooper planning to snatch a treasure starting off with just his cane, wits, and agility.

How about you? Does M plus one ring a bell? Or do you have your own learning experiences with games you'd like to share? Perhaps you have your own project or task that can benefit from a little bit of M plus one planning. If you do, I want to hear about it.

Gears of War and the Story of the Gameplay

A few years ago, way back in the year 2011, Cliff Bleszinski answered a fan question on Twitter. The fan asked, "What is more important, story or gameplay?" In other words, is it more important for a game to look great and tell a deep story, or is it better for a game to focus on playing well and provide great fun to the player? In my opinion, the answer varies depending on who you ask. You have people who can do both very well, you have games which are notable for refining one into artwork, and you have developers who can do one very well and need to focus on the other for a sense of balance. As for Bleszinski, he enigmatically tweeted back, "The Story of the Gameplay." Here we were expecting one or the other, but here is the curveball response.

I have occasionally obsessed over this answer ever since that day. What does that mean, the story of the gameplay? Does he mean one or the other? Does he mean both or something else entirely? On one hand, we can see it as Bleszinski being a wise guy and end it at that. Me, I like to give more credit than that. If not to Bleszinski, than to the concept itself. I happened to have tweeted back, asking Cliff if he was referring to an actual concept. I never heard back. So in the absence of any clarity from the source, let's figure out what it could mean ourselves. For reference, we will use Bleszinski's own Gears of War and its sequels.

For the uninitiated, Gears of War is a series of third-person shooter games. You take on the role of Marcus Fenix and a thrown-together squad of soldiers as they fight a seemingly hopeless war. The enemy? The Locusts, a race of invaders that emerged from underground to claim the planet. The interesting thing about the Locusts is how their ground troops are largely similar to humans to the point where they even use firearms and similar military tactics. Thus the conflict is more similar to fighting a standard war against a cunning and strategizing foe than any old alien invasion. Weapon choice, focusing targets, positioning, finding cover, and aiming true are all vital and you can't win if you lack any of them.

"@Culbec: @therealcliffyb what's more important, story or gameplay?" The Story of the Gameplay.
— Cliff Bleszinski (@therealcliffyb) March 16, 2011

The tweet that sparked this discussion

So now that we have our game, how do we tackle our concept? Let's break it down. "The story of..." refers to an event which is communicated between people, either recalling something that happened or making something up. "... the gameplay" refers to any factor that goes into how the player interacts with the game and their success is determined. Putting it together, we are looking for outstanding events that occurred while playing the game, perhaps even events that define the experience as a whole.

In the first Gears of War, one part of the story requires you to hold your ground at the entrance to a manor. Locust forces can only pour in through one entrance to get at you, but you can look out a window to pick them off before they even get there. That only works for so long until they bring out a larger enemy which cannot be whittled down before it reaches you. Further - I may be remembering this incorrectly - there are multiple of them at once. Therefore this sequence requires you to pick your targets, reserve your powerful ammunition for when you need to take down a big enemy, and position yourself so you can take effective cover and fire back.

I was stuck in this sequence for a very long time, and I was only playing the game on medium - medium! To be fair, the middle difficulty is called "Hardcore" so I at least knew what I was getting into. The strategy I employed was staying on the high ground to either side of the entryway where the Locusts came in. I did this to stay out of the way of rockets launched by the appropriately named Boomer enemies. But in the end, it was always the same deal. The Boomers were able to take too many hits and they just had to blow me up once to make me start the whole thing over. Something had to give every time.

After taking one rocket too many, I started to evaluate my options. I left the safety of my high ground to see what else the terrain had to offer. The manor entryway had tables, banisters, a dual stairway leading up, and raggedy couches. Surely, the couches were not suitable cover against bullets and explosives. But I tried it anyway. Furthermore, I positioned myself not to the side, but in front of the entryway. The Boomers would be able to fire at me as soon as they got in range, but the opposite was also true. This strategy resulted in a complete reversal. Being able to shoot as soon as I saw the whites of the Boomers' eyes meant I could start working the Boomers down before they even got close to the door. The Boomers fired back, but my couch proved to be a surprisingly formidable shield. The first Boomer died before it landed a foot in the entrance hall and the second one could only get a few steps in.

All at once, I made use of all of Gears of War's features. Strategy, position, cover, predicting enemy behavior, and aiming for weak spots. This experience really drove in how much thought went into this games design. It also makes for a good story.

Knowing how to remove troublesome turret gunners is also crucial. Hardcore mode's description is "You know how to pull off a headshot"

My second war story skips a generation to Gears of War 3. In particular, the game's competitive multiplayer. Just like the campaign, multiplayer requires teams to work as a unit, collaborate on a plan, position themselves well, take cover, pick their weapons wisely, and aim well. There is a good variety of game modes, and my story takes place in the one called "Capture the Leader." You run around shooting the other team, except this time one player on both teams is designated at a leader. The leader cannot die normally, but will be captured instead. The leader can't do anything, and the captor moves slowly while only using a basic weapon. The goal is to keep the opposing team's leader in the captured state for 30 seconds. Should both leaders be captured, neither timer will go down until only one leader is being held.

That said, boy did I have one good round. It started off poorly with our leader taken and dragged into the enemy's half of the arena. As I do often in these games, I died and respawned on my team's side. I had a bit of good luck as I found a boomshot, an explosive not unlike the Boomer rockets. My second bit of luck was seeing the enemy leader with another enemy. I suppose they figured with all the fighting happening around my team's leader, they could just hang out on our side where none of my team would think to look.

I sprung into action, firing a Boomshot that killed the regular opponent and took down the leader. The opposing team's clock ticked down 5... 4... 3... 2... and stayed at two. I picked up the enemy leader and forced the two timers into an impasse. And since the opposing leader delivered himself to my team's territory, I was safe while my team scrambled to free my leader. I positioned myself well behind cover and on high ground.

Suddenly, an enemy ran by. How did he get there and why didn't he notice me? I then realized that we were so far in the game that the spawn points had switched. In other words, the territories had just switched, pitting me in the enemy territory. Though it seemed that they hadn't caught on yet. On the flip side, my team was now entering the field closer to my team's captive leader. After some time, I heard a chime. The opponent's timer vanished and my team's timer began to tick down. That was good, but I was still in their territory and my team was still picking itself up after saving the leader.

Finally, one of the opponents thinks to look up the ramp in his new spawn and sure enough must have caught a glimpse of me. He doesn't have a direct line of sight, so his only option is to get up close and smack me down. He even tosses up a smoke grenade, which fills my screen with white and gray and no trace of his approach. While I hold the opposing leader, I can't use any of the "good" weapons, making do with just a basic pistol. If I were to survive, I would need to find him as soon as he came through the smoke, fire as soon as possible, and hit every one on his head. Those were a lot of stars to align.

And yet, they did end up aligning. I saw, I aimed, I fired, I hit. The opponent fell down and was no longer a threat. Him out of the way, I was uncontested and finished off the leader for the win. I imagine if I opted in for voice chat, there would have been lots of cheering to go around. If you think that's cool, the next round is equally worth talking about. I entered the battlefield and was immediately taken down by a shotgun point-blank. Short but sweet.

You'll see the player's team's counter is at 30 and about to count down. The enemy has no counter because they do not have the player's leader. If the enemy leader were to get away, the player's team would have to start all the way at 30 again

Now that we have these anecdotes, what does this mean for our elusive "story of the gameplay?" My friends, I believe we are onto something. The game is built and designed in such a way that you can have your moments of glory with some luck and skill during typical play. Any game can accomplish this, but I think Gears of War has this very concept in mind. When I think about "typical" game flow, I think about the game introducing its concepts and mechanics, building a player's skill with coasting low-intensity tasks, and then testing those skills against a challenging boss enemy or stage.

Gears of War is different. The game has its mechanics - aiming, reloading, taking fire, running, dodging, etc. - but most problems are not solved alone by practice. You need tactical smarts. You need to know when to apply pressure or when to fall back. You need to recognize a good vantage point where you'll be safe and have a good view of the enemy. You need to know when you're outnumbered and a frag grenade will even those numbers. You need to recognize opportunities to get at your enemy's sides or back. You need to assess if the situation is clear enough for the rest of your team to charge in and control more of the battlefield. You need to think like a soldier and not just know how to use their weapons and abilities.

This game invites war stories because of how it isn't won by "playing hard," and that is where the story of the gameplay comes in. This game is designed in such a way that every moment, decision, and small victory is imbued with a sense of importance. My experience playing this game stuck with me because the way each skirmish played out was as a result of my skill and knowledge. It was hardly ever cut-and-dry how I was going to stop the advancing enemy or force my way into a stronghold. Because this game felt so significant, I can remember all of these events in such vivid detail. The story of the gameplay is not something told by the game, but instead something lived out and told later by the player. No game can guarantee that every player will have their own story of the gameplay, but games like Gears of War sure promote it by engaging the player's tactical thinking.

So Cliff, and Epic Games by extension, whether or not "the story of the gameplay" is a real thing, your game is robust and carefully crafted enough for me to make my own definition. Cheers!

Another game I have stories for days is Bravely Default. Trying out new class combinations makes for riveting conversation. Anyone else feeling deja vu?

And you know what, I like this concept. Making a game so noteworthy to play that you could make a story out of it is a noble endeavor and a mark of true effort. This got me thinking in a broader sense. If we can make stories of out typical play in a video game, what else in our lives can we make stories about that we otherwise would think are not that noteworthy? Is your job more interesting than you may give it credit for? Could you form a story around a meeting or a task you took on? Do you play a sport? Did you witness an amazing play or take part in one yourself? Do you exercise? Is the reason you exercise interesting? Did you dig deep in your own mind to find the will and courage to exercise? Perhaps someone would be entertained and even motivated by hearing it.

Or maybe, just maybe - and I won't imply this is the absolute truth for a moment - you know that your life could be more interesting. Any life could be more interesting. I sure know that's true for my life. This added interest could come in the form of the aforementioned sports, exercise, hobbies, groups, community involvement, and so many more. This discussion was inspired by an Abstruse Goose comic in which the author addresses the concept of a noteworthy day. On an August 4th night, he climbed a pyramid structure and broke his foot on the way down. To quote the comic, "Now I bet you're thinking that climbing a pyramid, screaming 'I Tony Montanta', and breaking my foot was a pretty stupid way to spend the night. But I'll also bet that you don't remember what you did on August 4.'

So just like I would ask myself, "Can I remember what it was like to play Gears of War?" I should also be asking myself, "Can I remember what I did on April 24th?" I like the idea of working within my means to make every day significant. Even just a little more so. 

Kid Icarus: Uprising and Sportsmanship

When Kid Icarus: Uprising came out, I played the game's multiplayer religiously. I just loved the concept: Taking the weapons you built in single-player and pitting them against other gamers? Cool! And I'll stand by my opinion that Nintendo could take online multiplayer scene by storm if they expanded on Uprising's mechanics. But that's a discussion for another time.

For the uninitiated, Kid Icarus: Uprising is an action game for the Nintendo 3DS. You play as the angel Pit who battles the forces of evil in a mythology-inspired world. The controls involve moving Pit with the control stick while aiming and controlling the camera with the touch screen. There's a bit of a learning curve, but you'll unlock a very robust game on the other side. Pit's mobility and powers are influenced by the weapon he's using, and at 108 weapons in this game's armory, you will have your pick. Multiplayer is played the same way, but now you're competing with other players for glory.

I almost exclusively played the game's team-based mode, called Light vs. Dark. In Light vs. Dark, you battle in teams to defeat other players and decrease the opposing team's collective health bar. When the other team's bar is depleted, the last player defeated will turn into an angel. The angel is very powerful, but the other team wins if the angel is defeated. Thus it is a good idea to keep the angel protected.

The first few games of Light vs. Dark I played, my team won. When you win, you see your team's angel help the other team's angel up off the ground in a show of good faith, backed by an uplifting fanfare. When I first lost a game, I was a bit riled up and was not looking forward to what sort of humiliating results screen waited for me. Instead, I saw the exact same image of one angel helping another, smiling at each other, while the same music played. And I thought to myself, "What? No rubbing it in? No condescending musical stings? No huge 'YOU LOSE' covering the screen?"

A sample round of Light vs. Dark. Notice how even though the player loses, the results screen is still triumphant

Slowly, my confusion melted into elation. I no longer felt put on the spot. During the game, I felt frustrated because my weapon and skills were being outmatched. But hearing that music and seeing the two angels being friendly, I only felt the same sense of satisfaction that I would have if it were my team that had won. The game gives rewards to the teams based on who won, and of course my team's consolation prize was small compared to the winning team's purse. I suppose you can interpret that as the game focusing on who won and who lost, but it is only fair that the team which played the better game receives the significant reward.

Thus, we're back to the results screen, the one real opportunity that Uprising had to objectively make the teams feel one way or the other about the outcome of the match. To be honest, it's brilliant. Absolutely uplifting. The game could have really gorged the winning team's ego while stomping on the other teams', but it doesn't. I just couldn't bring myself to stay upset when I saw the angels smiling and that upbeat fanfare. I truly got a sense that the only thing the game wanted me to feel was that the match we just played was a good game. Nothing more, nothing less.

My friends, I want to see more of this: Games themselves promoting good sportsmanship through their presentation. That's not to say there are no examples of it out there, but the more the better.

I know promoting sportsmanship is a tricky business. How do we build a culture of mutual respect without going too far overboard and sheltering the participants? There's no one answer to this, but Kid Icarus: Uprising's approach is a pretty good take. And furthermore, it does this in a way that only a video game can. The bright and positive fanfare gives the losing team something encouraging to see and hear immediate after the game ends. This is the game immediately doing what it can to promote an optimistic outlook for that team. It's a counter-point to whatever frustration the losing players may be feeling following the match that just ended. However, the post-game rewards give a clear indication that not everyone is a winner. The winning team earns a free weapon in addition to a sizeable amount of ingame currency. This is done after the encouraging fanfare to frame the rewards as an incentive. It's as if to say, "Hey, you didn't win this time. But the next time you win, that's what you look forward to earning." There's a balance of themes there that may not be perfect all the time, but it's the best effort I have seen thus far.

When you lose in Team Fortress 2, you're forced to hobble around completely defenseless until you're killed or the next round starts

To contrast, let's bring up another multiplayer game that puts emphasis on the results of a match: Team Fortress 2. Team Fortress 2 is a first person shooter with a dark sense of humor that revels in shamelessness. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact I have laughed with the game's dysfunctional and tongue-in cheek malice many times. And as such, the way this game ends its rounds is equally hilariously mean-spirited.

In Team Fortress 2, once a team wins, the other team can no longer fight back. An announcer shouts "You fail!" and a crowd boos while downtrodden music plays. The losers are stripped of their weapons and their running speed is decreased. In addition, the winning team's weapons are super-charged with critical hits. Essentially, the losing team is reduced to fodder for the winning team to hunt down until the next round starts. To top it off, this whole mechanic is called "Humiliation." And by all means, is there any better word to describe this situation?

So does that mean Team Fortress 2 is an awful game? Of course not. Anyone who plays the game will quickly be made to understand its hard-boiled nature and expect everything to feed into it. Humiliation is intended to be humorous to all parties involved. Objectively speaking, humiliation is a laugh riot. The team without weapons is bowled over by the team with the supercharged weapons? Who would have thought? This may be one of the only times when people are victimized and I'd say the only logical reaction is to laugh.

I'd also like to put in a good word for Uprising's single-player campaign. It is quite the adventure with some fun characters, snappy dialogue and no fourth wall.

If in the end neither game is seriously trying to personally make the loser feel bad, what is the difference that makes this article about Kid Icarus: Uprising and not Team Fortress 2? The keyword here is "authenticity." You can take Uprising at face value and trust it to be authentic with how it presents itself. There are no hidden or double meanings. There's something comforting about a game that works intuitively with how the human mind processes information and meaning. Team Fortress 2, on the other hand, requires a split-second of deciphering. Horrible things happen to your character not because the game is actually mean to you, but as a bid to be so over-the-top that you laugh alongside the game at the absurdity that it presents. So where Team Fortress 2 uses an overabundance of poor sportsmanship as a means of comedy, Kid Icarus: Uprising presents you with good sportsmanship and means it.

As things stand now, there is a lot more inauthentic humor than there is authentic empathy. That's because being inauthentic is easy, people like to laugh, and some cynicism can be healthy. What I want to see is more of the Uprising example. I want to see more authenticity not just in video games, but in the world as a whole. I want to see more people attempt authenticity. I want to see more people speak up for authenticity. I want to see more people react to and promote authenticity. We may believe that authentic culture "goes without saying" and that's why we see less outstanding examples of it in the media. As for me, the fact that I was so surprised to see it goes to show how much more I'd like to see out there.

And now I want to hear from you. What experiences have you had with games promoting good sportsmanship and authenticity? For all I know, there could be a game out there which depicts competition even better than Uprising does. Maybe you saw a movie or read a book where characters set a good example. Heck, maybe some of you have a story about a positive experience in Little League. If you do, I want to see it in the comments.

Borderlands and Media Intimacy

Game trailer for mature audiences

I have a friend who is an absolute Borderlands nut. He has internalized all of the lore, all of the characters and settings, and I'm pretty sure he knows every line of dialogue in the second installment. So naturally, during the run of the first Borderlands, he one day gifts me the game over Steam with demands that we play together. It's a big-name game and it has my good friend so riled up to play it, so I gave it a shot.

For the uninitiated, the Borderlands series is of the first-person shooter genre. You assume the role of an adventurer exploring the world of Pandora. The goal of the first game is to find a mythical stash simply called "The Vault," so adventurers of your kind are known as "vault hunters." You have four vault hunters to choose from, each with distinct weapon affinities and abilities that make their play styles very unique. It's a completely different game to start a new file as another vault hunter. As for the world of Pandora itself... well, the only way I can put it is "violently quirky." Imagine wild west with alien creatures, some future technology, and some of the most endearingly shameless dark humor I've seen in a game. Add in roleplaying elements and an impossible amount of weapon varieties, and you have a game formula that can last the avid gamer a very long time.

So I play Borderlands in a group of three. I had fun, but I really wasn't feeling the game. I was the only person playing for the first time, so the other two just tore through knowing exactly where to go and what to do. I meandered behind them by comparison and maybe got a few shots off. I was basically dragged through the game without any chance to catch my breath and try to get a feel for the game. I should have said something, but I was expecting to pick it up along the way. Coming off from these play sessions, I found Borderlands to be merely a solid shooter with a nice animated design and a sense of humor. For some reason, having this lukewarm response to the game didn't sit well with me, so I played some more. My friends were busy at the time, so I started a new character solo.

The original four vault hunters - Roland, Brick, Lilith, and my man Mordecai.

My friends, the difference was night and day. Playing the game at my own pace allowed for me to truly have a personal playing experience. I could slow down and take in the scenery without anybody having to wait on me. I could actually explore around the landscape and go off the beaten path to see what was over there away from the objective. Without my friends acting as a combined shield and battering ram, all the enemies shot at me and I had to fend for myself. I got to use different weapon types and see which ones suited my playing style and my skills. Heck, I even became aware of an entire aspect of the game.

You see, weapons in the original Borderlands came plain or in one of four "elements." Your weapons could simply cause damage, or also light an enemy on fire, destroy shields faster, destroy armored enemies quickly, or simply have their bullets explode. In a group, I was completely unaware of this because everything died so fast. But alone, I was forced to experiment with elemental weapons. Through my own trial and error, I saw which situations called for which types of weapons and I was able to build my own assembly of weapons that I switched through and used.

Furthermore, I got to learn about my character. I simply picked him because I liked his design, but I came to realize he was perfect for my play style. I tend to favor the handgun weapon types in shooters, and it turns out my character, Mordecai, had skills and abilities dedicated solely to this one weapon type. By building Mordecai into his "Gunslinger" abilities, I became my own wrecking ball of quick reflexes and precise shots. I was finally having the immense fun that was expected of me when playing this game. Nothing against my friends and their most well-meaning approach, but I only could have reached this level of intimate familiarity with the game playing it by myself.

A typical weapon in Borderlands. These things are as plentiful as rain and their attributes are almost always completely randomly generated. You will have lots and lots of guns pass through your hands.

And that brings me to the topic of this article, a concept that I have preliminarily dubbed "media intimacy." I would have called this "game intimacy," but I have realized over time that this concept applies to more than just games. In fact, oral tradition may have the honor of being the first media to engage people in media intimacy. The idiom "curling up with a good book" is a great example of media intimacy as well.

So, what is media intimacy exactly? As I define it, media intimacy is the connection between a person as an individual and any sort of media. If you've ever "gotten into" a movie, TV show, book, or even a live performance, you've experienced media intimacy. You're more than just a consumer. You feel like you're part of whatever it is that you're watching, listening to, or playing. A "fan" of something is a person who is intimate with the media that they are a fan of. Even if all of someone's experiences with the media have only been as with a group, it takes just one individual thought or interpretation to spark an interest. And when this person engages in just thinking about the media on their own terms with nobody else to influence it, media intimacy begins.

Thus, when I played Borderlands by myself and engaged with it on my own terms, I became intimate with the game. The gameplay was more significant to me. The characters were more significant to me. The story, the setting, the individual events and lines of dialogue, all significant. I could more appreciate the game as a sum of its parts and not just as another example of its genre.

The most recent game that showed me a good time via media intimacy is Bravely Default. Such a deceptively complex game, but the most rewarding when you put in what little effort is needed to learn its ropes.

When I came back to playing Borderlands in multiplayer with my friends as my custom-built Mordecai, I was far more proactive. I got right into the fray and knew what weapon to use against which targets. I knew what events were happening, so it didn't bother me when we glazed over the cinematic sequences. I knew what went into a good weapon, so I didn't just pick up and drop anything just because it had an impressive design. We finally were all playing the same game. I was truly a vault hunter and I couldn't be happier.

And by all means, if we can be intimate with our media, why can't we be intimate in other areas of our life? How about business intimacy, or professional intimacy? Art intimacy or, hear me out, social intimacy? The common thread here is you engaging with your chosen topic on your own terms. You need to want it for reasons all your own. That's not to say you can't be influenced by the ideas of others, but the way you process those ideas need to be yours and yours alone. Thinking or acting some way just because someone else said so isn't intimacy. Or at least that's how I see it. After all, if you're taking any of my words to heart, you're engaging in media intimacy right now by taking in my words and processing that information.

Case in point, I am currently taking classes to learn programming. And as it stands, I'm hard-pressed to really get into programming when I just think about it in terms of assignments, grades, and lectures. But when I'm by myself and think of programming languages as fun tools with which to build fun programs, I find it much easier to learn and love programming.

Now I'd like to hear from you. Now that you have some idea of what I'm talking about, what are your experiences with media intimacy? What are you a fan of? Has a game, book, movie, TV show, etc. really made an impact on you? I want to hear about it.

Elite Beat Agents and the Meaning of Passion

Video game concept: A group of snappily-dressed gentlemen travel the globe and inspire regular people by dancing to popular music. Hope and motivation would be in short supply if not for these suit-wearing male cheerleaders.

If you're wondering what such a game would be like, look no further than Elite Beat Agents for the Nintendo DS. This game absolutely took the handheld scene by storm during its release and people I know are still making references to this game. Just like in the paragraph above, the game is about the titular agents as they travel the world and spread passion to the people. How do they do it? By acting as cheerleaders singing and dancing to popular music.

As you can tell by now, Elite Beat Agents is set in a modern world of cartoon fantasy. And even though the game revolves around the agents, the stars really are the people that the agents inspire. These aren't your typical video game problem-solvers. Instead of saving the world, our protagonists have more relatable goals and issues such as babysitting, creating art, proving their worth or just trying to survive in a rough-and-tumble culture.

Some typical gameplay. The player is following the beach ball left to right and afterward going to tap the 2 and 3 buttons

Instead of saving the day behind the scenes, the Elite Beat Agents are all about filling their targets with the courage and passion they need to do it themselves. This being a game, simple problems quickly turn into wild adventures. But the themes of overcoming doubt in one's abilities are still there. Let's quickly go over how this game is played.

For the uninitiated, Elite Beat Agents is a rhythm game that tasks the player to tap buttons on the DS touch screen following the melodies of well-known songs. These buttons fade into the screen and have circles closing in on them, indicating the right time to tap. In some cases, the button then prompts the player to follow a path on the screen, or some other follow-up motion. The result is a whole routine of button-pressing that compliments the song perfectly. As the song goes on, there is a status bar on the top of the screen that goes down. Should it empty entirely, the stage is lost and the player has to try again. This bar is bumped back up by the player performing the song well. This gameplay does very well to excite and push the player to do well and earn a good ending.

On the note of endings and stories, Elite Beat Agents has some of the most energetic presentation I have ever seen in a game. It's rife with passion, over-exaggeration, endearing charm, great characters, excellent themes, and is just a pleasure to experience the whole way through. Let's take a look at one of the game's stages.

The "Makes No Difference" stage - Interesting because the outcomes rely on the lead actor, which relies on Chris's directing

Stage 2 of the game introduces us to director Chris Silverscreen as he works hard to produce the next great blockbuster hit. Morale drops when one of Chris's bosses comes onsite to tell him that his job is strictly on the line. Chris carries on, but the extra weight is dragging him down. Chris's self-doubt and stress pile up, culminating in the desperate cry of "HEEEAAALP!" Thus, the Elite Beat Agents embark to motivate Silverscreen and make "Romancing Meowzilla" a huge hit!

I really must stress the significance of the "HEEEAAALP!" screams in Elite Beat Agents. It's the call that summons the agents to the target's aide, but it means so much more. The emotion that drives every character to yell this call is a very relatable one. Even though the situations are different, the emotions are the same: Self-doubt, anxiety, stress, maybe even helplessness. In short, the nagging voice that says "I can't do this. This is way bigger than I am." I am absolutely sure every person has felt this at some point. Perhaps some among us are feeling it right now. And I can assure you many of us will feel it more times in the future. Thus, I am certain we can all relate to feeling this emotion, especially to the point where we would shout "HEEEAAALP!" if it meant receiving any degree of help.

You can see the magic of the agents right away when they lift Chris straight out of his funk and get him waving with the music. After all, the best start to a daunting task is to loosen up. A little bit of waving with the music to take his mind off of the stress of the task will only help. You may also interpret this as him "riding the wave" of positive thinking and progress. This will be more significant in a few paragraphs.

Here you can finally see the game in action. All gameplay is reserved for the bottom screen while the top screen shows Chris as he works toward producing his movie. On the bottom screen, the  buttons appear to the beat of the music and you will gain points for tapping and dragging, depending on your reflexes and timing. Your performance not only affects the meter that you keep above failing levels, but it also affects how the events on the top screen play out. Performing the gameplay well will depict Chris as making progress. Performing poorly will depict Chris as struggling or failing to reach his goal. Performing perfectly will depict Chris succeeding greatly and with infectious gusto.

I find this very well represents what it's like to progress through a daunting task. You'll have your highs and your lows, and moments when you're just coasting through with moderate progress. In fact, depending on your task, you may coasting much of the time.

More sample gameplay. The circles around the buttons close in and when they overlap with the border of the button, that is when the player must tap.

The music you're hearing is a cover of Sum 41's "It Makes No Difference." And I must say, Elite Beat Agents has one of the most memorable soundtracks not necessarily because the songs on it are all original and of great quality - in fact, the entire core soundtrack are all covers of popular music. What makes the songs stand out is the context that they are used. In this game, music and gameplay are intertwined. The routine of button-pressing is set to the music, so you become intimately familiar with the music out of necessity for playing the game well. I find that this set-up has given me a fondness for all of the songs in the game's soundtrack. It helps that when you perform well, these songs are the background themes for your awesomeness. You can see comments all over the Internet from people who have a problem with popular music saying that this game makes it enjoyable.

You'll notice that in this game, stages take place in typically four sets. At the end of each set, depending on if your meter is above or below 50%, an event occurs that shows if your protagonist succeeds at the immediate task. In the case of this stage, we see if Chris's directing pays off and his lead actor pulls off the performance of a lifetime. In this stage and any other, seeing these little victories along the way to completing the stage is very rewarding. Remember that quivering ball of doubt that your character was at the beginning of the stage? Well look at what they're doing now!

Between sets, we return to seeing our character doing the wave, but as the stage progresses we see more characters joining in. I love this aspect of the game, since in my eyes it signifies the point when those characters are "on the same wavelength" as our protagonist, so to speak. It's one thing for Chris's lead actor to do his job, but it's another for him to really understand Chris's passion and motivation. With the lead actor joining Chris in the wave, I feel like he's really on board and sharing in that passion to make a great movie. Later on, even the antagonistic executive joins the wave, which goes to show even the bad guys in these stories see things more the protagonists' ways. To be fair, the executive does soften up when he sees the progress made in the movie.

The ending you get for a stage is based on how many sets you passed. The best ending is if you pass every set, there's  a neutral ending if you miss any sets, a bad-ish ending if you miss all the sets but still pass the song, and running out meter entirely will "reward" you with a soul-crushing failure scene. Trust me, these are hard to watch. In Silverscreen's case, all of his efforts and directing prowess pay off. "Romancing Meowzilla" is a huge hit, he makes his bosses happy, he keeps his job and can keep doing what he loves.

For me, what's more rewarding than winning in this game is seeing the evolution of its characters as the stages progress. They go from self-doubt to unflinching confidence - which you may notice is signified with a very distinguishable face bearing sharp half-circle eyes like masked superheroes - something that I refer to as the "fervor face." It's the face of a person who is well past the point of "Can I do it?" and only focused on where and how to make it happen. I love it.

The "Sk8er Boi" stage - A prime example of the protagonist using the fervor face

The next stage places us in the backseat of Jack, an ace taxi driver. He's good at his job, but he has a problem driving too fast. After being let off with a "friendly" warning from a police officer, a woman in labor barges into his car and tells him to step on it for the hospital. Jack can't risk being caught speeding again, but time is of the essence. With nothing else to do, Jack starts his engine and makes for the hospital with a shout of "HEEEAAALP!"

As we can gather, most - if not all - of the cries for help are not so much "This is out of my league, please help me out of this responsibility" but more "I'm going in to make this happen! Back me up!" For characters like directors and taxi drivers that are normally mundane in video games, this is a great attitude. The music for Jack's stage is Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi. The fun part about this song is how it tells a story, thus the lyrics are prevalent and clear. Even though the lyrics don't have much to do directly with the events of the stage, I still feel there is some connection. Perhaps because the pace of the song's story arc matches the stage's pace and there's some synergy when both stories are at their climax.

The "YMCA" stage - Look at this man tear through his plight

Another of the game's stages which makes great use of lyrics is the game's seventh stage, in which we join the quest of a sailor out to find treasure. The song for this endeavor is the time-tested and iconic YMCA, credited as being covered by TC Moses. And I must give props to TC Moses because regardless of if this song sounds like the original or not, the version we have in Elite Beat Agents is every bit as fun and energetic. I know I would be down to explore the depths of the ocean to such a tune. I can't tell you how pumped I was just hearing the initial horns and drum beat.

The "Anthem" stage - The story of a wash-up who hasn't given up on himself

The last stage I want to mention is the game's fourteenth stage, featuring an allegedly washed-up baseball player, Hulk. He had his run in the big leagues and struck out in more ways than one. He lives a life downtrodden melancholy until one day when the amusement park he works at is under attack from a volcano monster. It's up to Hulk to save the park from destruction using weaponized baseball skills! Of course, this story isn't as down-to-earth as the rest, but the themes are possibly deeper. Hulk has already seen the worst brunt of failure and yet puts in the effort to save the park and his biggest fan who is caught in the action. To me, that makes Hulk's story powerful in its own right. Rather than avoiding failure at all costs, he is overcoming the current paralyzing effects that a past failure can have on a person.

In the end, the power of music may get our protagonists up and doing, but it is the power of passion that makes everything possible. Behind every character and story is some sort of passion or drive. The same can be said of anyone. Every person has something they're interested in, and if we could we would pursue those interests with our hearts and souls fully invested. However, many of us don't pursue these interests for a variety of reasons. Either we don't find them practical as a living, we believe we don't have what it takes to make a living of it, or we just turned to the more practical occupations to place all our effort. And in some cases, the more practical occupations are our passions and we're as happy as can be. In any case, we all have something we want to do and do it well, and in a perfect world, we would all be masters of our trade. And to all of the masters of their trade currently reading this article, I commend you.

In Elite Beat Agents, antagonists take the forms of executives, traffic cops, aliens, unruly children, and the weather itself. But the real conflict throughout the entire game is people versus themselves. Every character is perfectly capable, but the only thing stopping them is their own self-doubt. Once they get that confidence, the problem doesn't stand a chance. It's in this way that we might even think of the agents themselves as purely symbolic. It's incredible to think all these people can gather the courage by themselves, but more comforting and empowering to think that we all have this group of agents somewhere in the distance confident enough in our ability to cheer us on by dancing to popular music.

The first stage of "Osu! Tatake! Ouendan" - The simple story of a student needing to study for exams

And I can't end this article without talking about Ouendan. Many people in the gaming community already know about Ouendan, so they can skip to the next paragraph while I clue the rest of us in. "Ouendan" is the colloquial name for "Osu! Tatakae! Ouendan" the Japan-only game to which Elite Beat Agents is an international "sequel" of sorts. I'm no expert, but I'll explain this as best I can with my limited knowledge and research: An Ouendan (spelling may vary) is a Japanese cheer squad not unlike cheerleaders in function. Though whereas cheerleaders rally up support by having a good time, the typical Ouendan will instead deliver an intense, stoic performance. I imagine it's because they take belief and inner strength very seriously. Thus they project such a professional tone to help their team's resolve sturdy up as well.

The Ouendan game very much takes a stoic approach to passion and motivation. Compared to the Elite Beat Agents, the Ouendan members are serious. Not mean or disagreeable, just very intense and focused on their task of bringing drive to the people. Instead of doing the wave, character in Ouendan put on their fervor faces back with the flames of passion. I guess you can say the attitude in Elite Beat Agents is "Take it easy, you've got this" and the attitude in Ouendan is "You are so capable of overcoming this challenge that it is your solemn duty to do so!" Personally, I can see how the stoic approach well represents Japan while the laid back approach powered by popular music appeals much more to the general international audience.

Different though their methods may be, Elite Beat Agents and Ouendan both set out to celebrate the common person and to me they succeed. Every profession, hobby, and undertaking in these games are shown in an impressive light. And you know what, in the right light, that applies to us in real life as well. Anyone can truly seize life if they keep their passions front and center in their minds and in their hearts.

We can't discount the power of music, either. With my playlist open as I type, I can vouch it helps. How about you? What music do you listen to that gets you in the mood for what you love? Perhaps the next time you listen to it, you can imagine a squad of agents dancing to it in the distance.

But before we sign off entirely, let's cut some onions

Dark Cloud 2 and Zealotry

Ah, Dark Cloud. This series has been on the sidelines of gaming culture since the days of the PlayStation 2. Far too long in my opinion! My passion for the series was recently reignited when I came into contact with a fellow video maker and I saw he has Dark Cloud videos on his channel. All of this remembering Dark Cloud reminded me of a story I want to share with you all!

For the uninitiated, Dark Cloud is a series of action/adventure games where the player takes control of a number of characters on a quest to save the world. Part of saving the world requires the player's party to venture into multi-floored dungeons as part of the storyline. The second game in the series differed from the first by featuring only two playable characters. But it made the most of those characters! Max, an inventor, is able to jump in a giant robot to completely whoop on enemies. Monica, a magic-using princess, is able to transform into monsters and use their abilities. And there is where my story begins.

At one point in the game, the player needs an item called the "Sundrop" in order to progress. The only way to get a Sundrop? Transform into the "Himarra" monster and talk to a Himarra. That's right, while your character is transformed into a monster, she won't be attacked by monsters of a similar type. You can even talk to your fellow monster as if they were a friendly non-player character. When you obtain the Sundrop, you even hear the Himarra's voice! I don't know about you all, but I got attached to the Himarra I talked to. Did I mention that you can just pick any Himarra wandering around the dungeon? That's right, the game doesn't just give you a monster to talk to. You actually have to find one yourself. That made the mission all the more personal to me.

This is a Himarra. Isn't it adorable?

That's why I was shocked at what happened next. After obtaining the Sundrop, I naturally thought "No reason to stay as a monster anymore," and transformed back into Monica. Imagine my surprise when the Himarra I was talking to moments before starts attacking me! "What's going on?" I thought. I pleaded to the screen, "Why are you doing this? It's me! We were talking a minute ago! You helped me!" but the Himarra would not - or could not - listen.

Eventually, I had to act. Putting on my best action movie drama face, I muttered, "Don't make me do this." But I had to. I forced Monica to cut down this monster that she had been fraternizing with moments before. Monica herself didn't even flinch to destroy the monster. She acted with the same neutral conviction that the monster had. I alone harbored this connection that didn't even involve me.

Okay, perhaps I'm embellishing the drama of this anecdote. A little. Especially considering I know why things turned out the way they did. In reality, the monster was nothing more than a construct of a game. It was a set of pixels on the screen programmed to behave in certain ways under certain circumstances. In this case, the monster was programmed to be hostile to the player unless the player assumes the form of a similar creature. In no capacity is the monster able to observe, learn, think, and defy its original programming. There's just no need for that in the game.

And yet, I still reacted this way. Who am I to be feeling this way, anyway? If this mission didn't even exist in the game, I wouldn't have second-guessed chopping down that Himarra in the first place. And that certainly didn't change anything afterward. What is it about connecting with that one video game enemy that's getting me to think so hard? I dove into the very core of the human condition to find an answer and I have come up with something.

At 14:45 you see the player get a Sundrop from a Himarra

You see, I humored the idea of the Himarra as a free-thinking being and went from there. The question then became why the Himarra would choose to attack me as soon as I presented myself as a non-Himarra creature. And, well, perhaps I'm not giving Dark Cloud 2 enough credit. What I'm chalking up to game mechanics may, in fact, be something more complex and tragic.

Where I'm more open to friendship, the Himarra may be more discriminating. After all, it lives in the wild where survival instincts take hold. The Himarra knows it can trust its own kind and probably has experience that tells it that there is no such guarantee with other types of creatures. Thus it stands to reason that when I transformed back into a human, the Himarra had a logical negative reaction. It could have thought that I was a spy amongst its ranks, or, even more heart breaking, it could have felt a sense of betrayal at seeing this new friend lie about who they are. Heck, this Himarra probably knows that humans are the most dangerous, destroying monsters left and right with ease. With this logic, the choice to attack as a pre-emptive defense is understandably obvious.

I got a little scared thinking this way. In a matter of seconds I took a course of action that was based on false assumptions, but phrased it in such a way that anyone would agree it was the right thing to do given the circumstances. I'm even more scared now because I am all too familiar with that way of thinking.

Attack-on-sight mentality of very common in our world, both in instinct-driven creatures and deep-thinking individuals. You do have the people who use pride in their identities to strengthen their roots and improve their character, but history shows conflict is in the blood of any culture and "us versus them" has been a time-tested mantra for unifying people, albeit of specific ideologies, for better and worse.

I remember when the first Dark Cloud was called a "Zelda-Killer." At least it gave us this great art!

Showing hostility as a roundabout way of showing support makes sense from a passion standpoint, but is flawed and stunts a person's growth as a cultured and free-thinking individual. For instance, I remember when Harry Potter was in full swing and I saw a news report on the series' exploding popularity. One interviewed mother said that she didn't care about Harry Potter nor will she bother reading it. The reason? Her family were already fans of A Series of Unfortunate Events and she resented Harry Potter for taking the thunder of her preferred series. Whether you prefer either book series, imagine that. A person willing to turn away from something new just because it was more popular than what she already knew.

There is a word for this sort of uncompromising conviction: Zealotry. Don't get me wrong, one can be a zealot for good causes and work their zealotry for the betterment of the world. But in general, I feel there's something uncanny about being too sure of yourself. This comes from personal  experience. Throughout my life I've found groups I can identify with and do well to fit in until I was expected to join in on badmouthing other groups or ways of thinking.

For instance, I talk to people all the time about watching what I eat. I do believe that a good life includes indulgence, and at the same time I'm still open to new things and trying the "less is more" approach to eating right. A few people I talk to, however, are deeply entrenched in one or the other and are very passionate about playing down the other half. I'll tell a calorie-cutting friend that I really enjoyed a meal out with a group last night and be told in return that I should stop letting my company coerce me into unhealthy eating habits. On the other side, I'll try getting water with a meal instead of soda to see how much I really miss it. Seeing this, my more wining-and-dining friends will tell me I'm acting like one of "them." I assume "them" refers to the insufferable sort of fitness enthusiasts who often go on record condemning common eating habits. Even if my friends don't mean to tear down the other side, their word choice still reflects that sort of mindset.

Without staying specific to one group, you can still see where I'm coming from. People can love what they love, but when they try to love through hate, that's going a bit far for me. If it gets to the point where someone could say "You're one of THEM," for any reason, then we're no better than the Himarra who's only following his programming.

I planned on putting in video game zealotry, but my search turned up nice consoles so I'm going with that instead. Found here. I really want to credit the source.

We're going leave this off on a community note. Let's share our own zealotries and see how or identities shape us. As for me, anyone can tell I'm zealous about video games and further the study of video games as a serious cultural medium. I may not agree when it comes to all criticism of video games, but only because I prefer to talk things out. Behind every piece of criticism is a story and a topic to explore further. If we just take the criticism at face value, that's no good. How about you? What are you zealous about? Games, movies, sports, comics, food, exercise, or even your work?

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to reading about how diverse this audience is!

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