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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Wii Fit and a Spoonful of Sugar

It is the middle of November and by now people all over the world are exercising to their trial versions of Wii Fit U. I am one of them, which is good since I fell out from being consistent with the first Wii Fit. But I'm back on the Balance Board and things are looking up! I have already partaken in many of Wii Fit U's games and I am having actual real fun! And that fun is pivotal to today's topic.

"Wii Fit" is a household name to many, but for the uninitiated, Wii Fit is a game that gets the player to exercise. Since the game cannot provide physical feedback like standard exercise machines, it instead provides instructions and challenges that require the player to pose and move around in certain ways. For instance, Yoga exercises in a Wii Fit game show the player how to adopt a given Yoga position, then assess the player's ability based solely on how able he or she is able to maintain their balance on the Wii Balance Board. I could choose not to do the pose and stand comfortably so that the game would give me a favorable rating, but beating a video game wasn't exactly on my mind when I chose to buy Wii Fit.

Wii Fit U offers many yoga exercises, strength exercises, dance steps, balance games, and more, but what really got me inspired writing was my first experience with Wii Fit U's "Free Step" exercise. The activity is a simple one 1) Step on to the Wii Balance Board with one foot while raising the opposite arm and moving the other arm back. 2) Step on to the Wii Balance Board with the other foot while returning your arms to a neutral position. 3) Step off the Wii Balance Board with the first foot, this time raising the same-side arm and moving the opposite arm back. 4) Step off the Wii Balance Board with the second foot, returning your arms to a neutral position. It takes some getting used to, but Free Step gives you plenty of time to adjust. How much? Oh, in the area of a half-hour.

This deceptively simple screen has everything you need to step like a pro

If that last bit made you say "What!?" let me tell you my reaction was very much the same. When you start Free Step, you are given the option to quit at any time. You are also given the goal of completing over 2000 steps within that time. The game can work off of the Wii U's Gamepad so that your TV can be freed up for other things while you step through your half hour. Since my first playthrough of Wii Fit U was intended to just be a trial run to see what the game had to offer, I figured I'd do a good 100 steps and call it to see what else I could do.

So, I was off. The screen displayed a stage where my character and a bunch of my handmade Mii characters had their own Balance Boards. The onscreen character automatically did his steps, which was my prompt to imitate him to make sure I'm doing it correctly. The game even provides a helpful stepping sound effect to signal the moment when your moving foot should touch down each time. I took all of these into account and began my steps. The game only counts steps you actually do, and uses pressure on the Balance Board to verify those steps.

As I worked to imitate my character as close as possible, stay in step, and switch feet as smoothly as he did, 100 steps came and went. I don't know what it was, the step counter, the little Miis standing around supportive, the trainer's voice informing me of my progress, or just how little I looked at the ingame timer counting down from thirty minutes, but I was feeling pretty good. The steps weren't physically demanding at all, but I was still working up a good amount of effort. I was also getting bored, but in the best way. I got the idea of what to do and the steps were too slow. I then noticed that Free Step has three tempo settings and I had been stepping to the lowest one. It was time to get Wii Fit! I clicked onto the second setting, found it alright, then clicked onto the third setting. And then I was off for real.

As the minutes ticked down, the steps ticked up. With four steps in a cycle, it was 25 cycles for every 100 steps. At some point, the trainer even stops using specific numbers when telling you how many steps you've done. That's a good indication of when you're high up there! Over the half hour, I could move in tandem with my Mii on the screen and switch feet on the fly seamlessly. Pretty soon I was looking at the clock, but only to get an impression of how many more steps I could get out before the half hour was up. I was in a state of Zen that I was in no rush to leave. And yet, all good things come to an end. When the half hour was up, I had done well over 2600 steps and could feel them all in my thighs. And I still went for another 15 minutes on other games to round out the full hour of exercise.

Some of these games take crazy coordination. I love his enthusiasm!

Now, I consider myself middling at best when it comes to work ethic for exercise. Yet here I was putting in half an hour straight of steps. What happened? My friends, gaming happened. It's easy to feel negative about exercise if you haven't done it in a while, but it's even easier to feel positive about games, especially if you haven't played any in a while. Wii Fit U managed to take the eagerness I normally reserve for games and redirect it towards exercise. Whatever associations may be keeping me from exercising were rendered null in the face of my overwhelming love for games. You might say that the game "tricked" me into exercising, but I certainly don't feel tricked. And if it is fact that I was tricked, that's my kind of trick!

This experience taught me the importance of associations in human psychology. We as people can have very warped senses of priority based on previous experiences. This is where procrastination comes from, after all. I hear all the time about workers who have a report due the next day and they'll play five lives in Candy Crush before even looking at said report. It's not even a contest. It's also easy to understand how that happens. Candy Crush is fun, colorful, and gratifying. Comparatively, the report is arduous. Imagine if the worker could channel that eagerness from Candy Crush to that report. After all, that individual report needs to only be written once while Candy Crush will always be there.

And that's basically what happened with me on the Wii Fit U. I can't speak for everyone using the software, but I have gone on to incorporate more activities in my usual exercise routine and be more consistent with it. I may not have the benefit of a game tracking my progress, but the positive experiences I had with exercising filled in those gaps. I less thought about exercise as something strenuous and more like a cumulative activity that I am meant to improve and build on. Even if it were scientifically proven that exercise shouldn't be possible and fun, I am able to keep doing it as if it were. Thus, I was "tricked" not only into doing exercise, but enjoying it as well.

Two saying passes through my mind in response to this. One was "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." The other one was "A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down." Though the first one is relevant, I believe my case with Wii Fit is more accurately described by the other. Many will recognize this quote as sung by Mary Poppins to motivate the Banks kids into cleaning up. Literally, the quote refers to the general bitterness of medicine and a child's unwillingness to take it, even if sick. But adding a spoonful of sugar will make the medicine taste appealing enough for the child to take. In context, Poppins is saying that menial tasks can be completed quickly and made fun if you don't think of them as menial and more gamelike. Sure, the film depicts "fun chores" as simply snapping one's fingers and watching the room clean itself, but clearly that is symbolic for how easy it is to clean one's room when you're having fun while doing it. At least that's how I choose to see it. And I digress.

Ms. Poppins explains it best herself

I would encourage official study into this topic of enriching non-game work ethic with game-like incentives, but that actually has been well underway for years. Many of you probably have been thinking the term "gamification" throughout this whole article, and you'll all be right. For a quick reference to what gamification is, I point you towards this early Extra Credits episode on the topic. Very good viewing. And as you can see from the video, gamification is still very early in its development and has incredible potential for growth, but it still represents everything I've been talking about throughout this article. In fact, you could say everything I've been writing about since March is a case-by-case argument for gamification's potential.

How about you? What experiences have you had with motivation in video games? What are some times where game-like thinking have helped push you along, or even been key to solving a problem? I have found that when I go into a game, I come into it with a sort of neutral optimism because I know the game was designed with my success in mind. This is an attitude that video games do in a way all to their own. I'm not even aware of this positive attitude, but I have brought it with me to non-game situations and been all the better for it. I'll bet every gamer also does this and has a great story from it.

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the Wii Fit U Gym Communities!

-

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Phoenix Wright and Focus

By now, my Nintendo 3DS is my preferred exercise companion on the treadmill. Sure, other devices offer similar services, but nothing captures my attention like a good Pokemon battle, RPG cutscene, flight around Wuhu Island, or courtroom drama. For today's topic, we will discuss why that last example is so effective.

We all can agree that the Phoenix Wright games really make us think. Capcom's law games create these little worlds of scenarios, character, evidence, and motivations. At its most intense, I have found myself so immersed in a Phoenix Wright storyline that I began seeing the real world in terms of alibis and some way in which a murder could have been hidden.

Officially known as the "Ace Attorney" series, some games in the franchise even star other characters and take place at various times in the world's history. Phoenix Wright just happens to be the most recognizable aspect of the series .

For the uninitiated, Ace Attorney games work your problem-solving skills more than they do your reflexes. You won't be defeating enemies one after the other, nor won't you be grinding up stats, picking up loot, earning weapons, or even much of controlling your characters. The bulk of Ace Attorney gameplay is in its dialogue. You will spend more time hearing characters talk and explain things than you will taking any sort of action.

Everything happens in menus, and every option opens up a colorful and endearing new event

On paper, this sounds dreadfully boring. But in execution, this is perhaps the most enthralling way to play a video game that I have yet experienced. Like I said above, an Ace Attorney game is more than interactive media. It is a window into a world of intrigue and murder mystery. And yes, every court case boils down to murder at some point.

Every chapter follows the same formula: Your main character meets a person who is charged with murder and takes the case to defend this person. From there, you hit the streets to scour the crime scene, find evidence, and talk to people related to the incident. The games are all very linear, so you'll be following a carefully crafted storyline the whole way through. When your investigation is over, it's time to head to court where you will engage in debate with the prosecutor, whose job it is to see your defendant found guilty.

Already you can see how Ace Attorney can keep a person hooked. The gameplay and the storyline are chained at the hip. Whereas most of what happens in a video game is part of the "experience" and you can go for long stretches without continuing the story, Ace Attorney is in storyline mode full-tilt. If the game ever stops, it's because it needs you to nudge it in the right direction. You are never not ingrained in an Ace Attorney storyline for as long as you are playing it.

By now you're probably wondering what it is the player actually does which presents any challenge. Well, there come times in the story where your protagonist will have to put money to mouth and prove their point with some evidence. But they won't do it by themselves. When you hit that impasse, it's up to you, the player, to sift through the evidence and find that piece that will throw doubt on the other person's claims, forcing them to elaborate or admit to lying. So, if your witness claims to have never been at the crime scene and yet you found their phone right next to the body, time to raise an OBJECTION!! Digging up the truth is very rewarding, and watching your character pursue that line of logic further just makes it all the better.

 But allegedly, the victim wrote the defendant's name with his right hand. Curious...

Bringing it all together, what does this game being good have to do with me being on the treadmill? Nothing, directly. But it does help me focus on the exercise. And funny enough, it helps me focus by taking my mind all the exercise almost entirely. And let me say ahead of time that this is a particular sort of multitasking that not everybody can do, so be careful if you try it out.

First, by concentrating on the game I am less aware of my surroundings. Not by a whole lot, just enough to where I am not constantly checking the clock, calories, or distance. This way, I won't be thinking about how much further I need to go. Likewise, since I'm not focused on the strain of the exercise, I won't have any reason to exaggerate how tired I feel just to give myself a reason to cut it short.

Second, the attention that I am not giving to the exercise pours straight into the game. With the amount of attention that game commands, it's not likely to let go of that focus any time soon. The storyline is constantly in motion, so at any time you can just click on it to see more. Further, the conversations and characters are entertaining enough where pretty much any exchange contains at least one smirk or laugh out of the player. There is a lot going on at any time in the game, so you'll be thinking about the storyline and what the newest developments mean for the larger mystery afoot. Even putting the game down to think about something will keep you invested enough to where you won't get bored while exercising.

The game's music is also exceptional and has everything to do with the Ace Attorney experience. The iconic "Cornered" theme is catchy, especially in a capella.

There are two caveats for this method. First, playing a game while exercising requires being able to multitask in a very particular way. While I can stay enthralled in my game, I still need to keep up with the treadmill, maintain balance on the belt, and keep an eye on the timer so I can scale up the speed according to my routine. If you cannot multitask like this, then this whole method could prove dangerous. Practice first on low speeds, even if you already multitask well.

Second, there do come those times in an Ace Attorney game where you will get utterly stumped. The solution is out there, but your thought process won't find it. In those cases, the game's hold can wane. In that case, you may want to switch up for a game that doesn't require problem-solving to continue, like Animal Crossing.

These things aside, I have a great time on the treadmill with 3DS games, Ace Attorney in particular. If the story really picks up, I might even pull some overtime just to keep in the zone.

All of that said, I'd like to hear from you. What activities keep you in "the zone" like a good game does? Which activity would you like to have a zone for? A game-like perspective on that activity may help in accomplishing this. On the other side, what are good games you like to play while doing something else? And on the other side of the other side, what are some things you like to do while playing games? I know I like to wind down at the end of the day by catching up on my videos while playing some Borderlands 2 or Cube World. I look forward to seeing what you all have to say! Until then, game out.

Dead Space and Being the Silent Protagonist

I love the first Dead Space. By now, the Dead Space series has made a big name for itself and spanned three installments with some games and literature on the side. But before the brand took off, there was just the one really ambitious title. Dead Space has great atmosphere, looks incredible, employs creative enemy designs, and gives players a satisfying variety of weapons. It's also one of the definitive games that emerged from the boom of American-made horror titles in the late 2000s. Don't quote me on this, but I imagine the immense success of Capcom's Resident Evil 4 got that ball rolling.

There is one aspect of Dead Space that I think is vastly understated even today. Later installments even did away with this precedent that I thought was pretty important. I am of course talking about the fact that protagonist Isaac Clarke never spoke. Everyone else carried conversations naturally, but Isaac himself never got a spoken word in edgewise. The game covers for this by having all the conversations scripted in ways that don't require Isaac's input.

The silent protagonist in video games has been around since video games themselves. When the main character of a game lacks a voice, it becomes easier for the player to project themselves in the character's place to be more engaged in the game's settings and situations. Gamers most often think of iconic silent characters such as Crono, Gordon Freeman, Link, and other characters who never actually speak in written dialogue.

Vahn from Legend of Legaia is my obscure silent protagonist of choice

However, are these characters really silent? These silent characters clearly communicate through the course of their games. For instance, a character's dialogue with the main character will come off as a conversation with him or herself. "May I help you? Oh, you want the water gem? I can't give it to you unless you slay the dragon. You'll do it?" In Mario and Luigi: Superstar Saga, the plumbers have dedicated animations for when they speak. Even though their words come out as a string of comical gibberish, they clearly hold functional conversations with the other characters of the game world. There are games out there where the main characters don't communicate, but I feel this has the most impact in Dead Space.

Let's examine the situation: In Dead Space, Isaac is stranded in a derelict space vessel that is infested with horrifying monsters. He is not entirely alone since he maintains contact with two colleagues, Kendra and Hammond. While Isaac braves the depths of the USG Ishimura, Kendra and Hammond remain in relative safety while they figure out what's wrong with the ship and how to escape their predicament. For most of the game, everything Isaac does is not his idea. He simply moves from order to order issued to him by other people.

Further, the game is scripted and acted in a way that Isaac's silence just feels natural. The way the characters interact with him, you get the impression that they are used to carrying a conversation with Isaac. Instead of Isaac simply being slapped with the stigma of silence for effect, that may just be part of his character to be soft-spoken, if spoken at all. All of this, combined with the way he moves like a civilian, has Isaac strike me as an introvert. Quiet, maybe a little awkward, evasive but not reclusive, and generally a softer personality type than what Western media typically offers.

A great documentary going into the thought process of using a nonstandard hero.

Given this, your first impression of Isaac may be that he is a weak character. In fact, his situation could be downright insulting. One of the first things that happens in the game is Hammond ordering you to hack open a door with about as much enthusiasm as turning a doorknob. If you were in a bad mood, you might have felt that your character's life skills and expertise were being marginalized by his role.

You know what, you'd be right. Despite the fierce appearance of Isaac's protective suit, he never struck me as a person of action in the initial minutes of the game. It served as a great contrast for when as the game escalated, we'd see this character forced to rise to the situation.

And even though Isaac doesn't talk, that doesn't mean he can't think or feel. He feels terror plenty. Any time he takes damage or worse, you can hear his muffled cries of pain and fright through his helmet. Should you fall prey to one of the game's gruesome death scenes, you'll hear just what Isaac feels about the situation. I absolutely loved this aspect of the game since the muffled cries invoked a claustrophobic feeling because the character couldn't be heard properly. It goes to show that Isaac's silence becomes a source of strength since he maintains it in a hostile environment. Silence both of word and emotions. He is plenty scared, but isn't letting it affect his ability to do something about it.

The second way Isaac expresses himself is through his personal log. Though it's mostly a game mechanic to remind the player of what they're supposed to be doing next, it's still written in Isaac's "voice." The logs depict Isaac as rational, focused, nonjudgmental, and given the situation, scared. He rarely writes anything personal about others, unless it's a response to storyline developments. This limited exposure allows us to see Isaac as the most level-headed person on the ship. He clearly feels more confident in expressing himself with the written word above the spoken word.

Watch the first minute. Seeing Isaac straighten his posture to fight this monster is my favorite moment.

The big payoff in all of this character analysis is seeing Isaac get work done. Here we have this wallflower of a character and he's the one destroying monsters, making repairs to the ship, and saving the day. It's hard to appreciate this character development when it's actually us, the players, doing the real work. We're more inclined to celebrate our own victories rather than keep our perspectives all within the game world. Objectively speaking, Isaac can deliver. Though not very impressive as a communicator, Isaac shows his strength of character through his actions. We could have had a main character with all the vocalized confidence in the world who could have done the same thing, but because our first impression of Isaac was not as strong, that made his actions all the more meaningful.

The more I think about this and how organic of a character Isaac Clarke is, the more I thought about how this translates to the way we act and see others in the real world. I'll admit right here that I based my vision of Isaac Clarke largely on my own introverted self. As I analyzed Isaac and how his actions have meaning, I came to realize that I too benefit from my actions. Whenever I come out of my shell to do something, it always seems to grab attention. Conversations start, we keep in touch, and before I know it I have new friends and acquaintances that I am comfortable enough around to cut loose a bit more and approach.

Just like Isaac, we all have some area that we have our strengths in, our proverbial "good sides," if you will. We just have to figure out how to display this good side to others and use it as a gateway to introduce those others to our beautiful personalities. This is why self-help gurus often recommend volunteer work to help people find friends. The fact that you are doing volunteer work shows your fellow volunteers and others that you are the sort of person who does volunteer work. If you are artistic, find a venue in which your work can be displayed for others to see. I'm doing that right now by sharing this blog with all of you! And it has worked. I've met some new people and hope to meet many more as I continue to write these posts.

Now, how about you? What is your "good side" that you would love sharing with others as a way for them to get to know you? Can you play sports well? Do you like movies? On the other side of this post, which video game characters do you consider strong and well though-out? Maybe you see a character different than most people do. Maybe your reasons for liking a character are personal. I would love to hear all the varying responses and reasons. Until then, game out.

The Skylanders Mom and Gamer Networking

Given some time, shopping for video games with one's parents is going to become one of those essential childhood memories. I know that I cherish such memories. During my own trips to video game retail stores, I occasionally get  a glimpse into what the whole process is like nowadays. I've seen all sorts of experiences, ranging from the nagging kid whose parent buys a game based off a cartoon, to the encouraging parent purchasing the latest Mario for their grateful child. But sometimes, you see something different.

Browsing in the Electronics section one time, I overhear a mother and son in the Skylanders toys. For the uninitiated, Skylanders is an action/adventure series of games which contains a huge library of playable characters. You gain the ability to play as new characters by purchasing the action figure of that character and using a peripheral to plug the character in the game.

In the store, I actually saw in passing the son placing an action figure on the demo booth to see the character in action. He was seriously deliberating. Eventually, he goes to his mother and says he chose that character. And this is where it gets interesting. The mother takes one look at the character and says, "This looks like a big guy. Don't you play the fast guys?" to which the son responds that he wants to try a slow-but-strong character for once. They went back and forth for a bit, including one time when the kid tried a big character at a friend's house and said he didn't like it, leading to the kid saying he wanted to actually take it seriously.

What struck me about this exchange is that the mother and son were genuinely discussing strategy and logistics about the game. Normally, we'd come to expect the mother to sigh "okay," drop the toy in, and be on with her day. But here, she actually took the purchase seriously and wanted to talk it through first. Not as the credit card-holder trying to stave off a purchase, but as someone who understands what the purchase means to the child. She knew enough about the game to talk about it on the same terms as her child.

Every character in Skylanders comes with its own unique stat spread.

I was floored to hear this. I don't know if this is increasingly common now, but during my youth parents did not try to understand video games. The norm was that video games were not something that required further understanding. They were in the same league as simple toys. It's funny I say this so firmly because one of my parents was a subversion of this norm. My mother, much like the Skylanders mom, actually stopped to look at what I was playing and rationalize the bright colors on the screen. She knew what "characters" meant to video games. She understood what a "hit point" was. She saw how to recognize who the player character was without needing me to tell her. She knew what a power-up was and could alert me to when one pops onscreen.

Hearing the Skylanders talk made me think about a discussion I had before where I tried to make the argument that video games are just as complex and conversation-worthy as any real-world sport. Naturally, the other person had all of popular culture on their side and I had to concede. In light of overhearing this conversation, I'm thinking popular opinion is starting to sway the other direction. Now that video games are on the popular culture radar, my argument for the complexity of games has more ground to stand on.

Lastly, and just as importantly, even I could understand the conversation I was overhearing. Not because I've played Skylanders, but because I've played games in general. Games have a lot of things in common. In this case, the kid was used to characters that moved fast but could not defeat enemies quickly. This new character would move slow, but defeat enemies with less hits. He is swapping out the advantage of speed for the advantage of power and perhaps other capabilities.

Fighting games, by far, most emphasize the differences between characters and topics of discussion.

Thinking on that last point, I have come up with a term for how general video game knowledge allows someone to understand a game they haven't played yet. "Gamer networking" is what I've come up with so far. That is, networking with an emphasis on video games. In this day and age, "networking" mostly refers to a person socially engaging others to build a "network" of friends and acquaintances. People often network by emphasizing things they have in common, such as what movies they like, sports they follow, what they do for a living, and so on. This way a person can have a big network to be well-connected in many places among many types of people.

Gamer networking is interesting because video games are so complex. There are entire genres of games, and each game in each genre can be radically different from each other. And yet, video games all come from the same roots and therefore contain a lot of similarities as well. For instance, Final Fantasy is a very different game from Bioshock. However, both games have in common that the players attack enemies in order to win. In both games, the damage that players deal to enemies is quantified. In both games, the amount of damage can be increased in some way. In both games, the benefit of increasing attack power is taking less time to defeat regular enemies and being able to keep up with the more difficult encounters. Therefore, if a player of either of these games mentions a time for opportunity in which they increase their attack power, the other will know right away the basic benefits of that increase. And yes, players of both of these games will be able to join a conversation on using heavy characters in Skylanders.

Gamer networking is not just for people who freely identify as gamers. People who network over sports have discussions of a very similar sort. And then there's the fact that non-gamers have stormed the scene as casual and social gaming grow. Let's take one of the most prolific games of the modern era, one that every person reading this blog has either played, played secondhand, or heard about. Yes, folks, even players of Angry Birds can get in on the action. Angry Birds is a game more different from Skylanders, Final Fantasy, and Bioshock from each other, yet the concept of "more power" exists there as well.

Though Angry Birds does not emphasize defeating enemies, you still use force to knock down buildings using your birds. The individual birds cannot power-up, but using special birds is satisfying and mostly essential for getting the best results on stages. The Big Brother Bird in particular goes along with my point because it is a straight upgrade from the standard red bird character. It may not be as precise as the red bird, but precision is less of a factor when your bird can just demolish whatever it touches. It's not exactly the sort of quantified power in the other examples, but it is a relative increase in power all the same. Kind of a stretch, but the connection is there.

Just watch the first minute to see the big guy tear it up.

You see, the more you break down a video game into relatable problem-solving tasks, the more easily someone can understand it. The less a person knows about games, the simpler you'll have to get. Getting someone on your level requires effort and patience, but it is worth it. I've had long conversations with people who have no prior interest in games but every good intention to understand what they can, and all because I worked my way up.

It seems that we as gamers also have the progress of technology on our side. The more people come to rely on bright screens and dealing with user interfaces, the less foreign video games feel. In fact, video games may turn around and help us in the real world of situational awareness and problem solving; but that's a topic for another time. Either way, the Skylanders mom provided a good window into what could be when it comes to public knowledge and attitude surrounding video games. Perhaps in the future, more complex games will work its way into global culture; and not just a split-second of Call of Duty or an offhand app reference.

So, what about you? What experiences have you had in gamer networking? Ever tried explaining a game to your parents? Invited your friends over for some game time and had some banter? Or maybe you've butt heads with another game online about the superiority of one character or another. I know we've all done it, and I want to hear it. Until then, game out.

Quick Time Events and the Subconscious

The laugh track. The sound board. The wide-angle lens. As media evolves, it develops new techniques. Either because of advances in technology, or simply because an idea sees great success and becomes a trend. Video games have seen plenty of its own techniques as the time has passed. One of the more divisive techniques of the modern school of gaming is the quick time event.

For the uninitiated, a quick time event (QTE) is a gameplay mechanic in which the game prompts the player to press a specific button to achieve a certain goal. This is different from regular gameplay in that these button-presses are context sensitive. Where the A button normally makes you jump, in a QTE you'll be prompted to press the A button to have your character jump out of the way of a falling rock. QTEs are characterized by being reaction-based and generally trying to give a gameplay translation for a character's instincts.

I can trace the evolution of the quick time event in three landmark games. The first game is Shenmue, released for the Dreamcast in 1999. During the course of the game, main character Ryo Hazuki is put in several situations where he must avoid something, catch something, or give chase to someone. In particular, the chase scenes involved Ryo dodging obstacles and choosing paths. For the cinematic effect, regular gameplay was probably not intricate enough or too awkward. Thus, the scene was depicted as a cutscene with quick time events as input. The scene changed depending on the player's success with the quick time events. Shenmue implemented QTEs so effectively that it put the concept on the map for future games to build on.

The Wii literally shook things up by incorporating motion controls.

The next game in my analysis is Resident Evil 4. Aside from forging new ground in third-person shooter games, I find this game incorporated quick time events not unlike Shenmue. In fact, Resident Evil 4 used them more frequently and in different ways. A cutscene would play for minutes, when all of a sudden the A button would appear onscreen. In the case of Resident Evil 4, failing a QTE would almost always result in a gruesome death for protagonist Leon Kennedy. Perhaps someday I'll revisit the concept of those death scenes in another post. QTEs also appeared in non-scripted situations, such as when an enemy grabbed Leon. This actually is a step up from a Resident Evil 3 mechanic which allowed the player to move in the opposite direction of an enemy and avoid damage. This is shown by having Jill Valentine execute a dodge ability.

The last game that I think leads up to quick time events as they are today is Dead Space. Dead Space, or at least my interpretation of it, is a game that aims to one-up everything about Resident Evil 4. The running and gunning was smoother, the environments were much more immersive, and the death scenes were even gorier. Once again, I'll come back to that sometime. And yes, Dead Space incorporated quick time events in similar ways. In fact, Dead Space took it a step further. Dead Space set up "scripted events" which required QTEs and other context-sensitive actions to progress. For instance, upon entering a certain corridor, the game is programmed to have a large tentacle monster grab Isaac Clarke and drag him to a hole. The player had to shoot the monster's weak point to save Isaac. However, the fixed camera made this difficult.

So what am I getting at here? Games like Dead Space, Resident Evil 4, and Shenmue have a sort of "pace" to playing them. Quick time and scripted events are part of the experience and the brand of these games. There are normalcy and consistency in these mechanics. Well, I've had an experience that told me there's more to this.

Failure scenes have become a separate art form. The new Tomb Raider sure has its share.

We've all had that one dream where something is attacking us and we can't do anything because it's a dream. In my case, I've dreamt that there's literally a snake in the grass in the front yard outside my house. I step into the grass, because it's a dream, the snake prowls around, lunges for me, end dream. I'm not particularly afraid of snakes, I guess I had recently watched or played something with snakes.

Then, one night, my dream changed. Same set-up, but this time when the snake lunged, time seemed to slow down and I saw a prompt for a dodge. The dream followed the prompt and allowed the snake to fall past me. The dream then prompted me to move in for a counter strike. I did, and, well, I can't really pull much more of the dream past that. Either way, waking up from that dream gave a very interesting feeling. My go-to dream for helplessness was completely turned around to be empowering. Because of video games? Because of quick time events?

Like I said before, quick time events are a reaction-based mechanic. They test your reflexes and hand-eye coordination by telling you a button to press and giving you little time to do so. Gamers typically have better association of buttons with functions than they do the labels of the buttons to their positions. I also mentioned how QTEs can be a gameplay translation of instinct. Instinct, which I define in simple terms as "being yourself quickly." That is, react as you would without taking time to revise in your head. It's empowering to know what to do and when. It helps you reaffirm your identity and proudly own it.

Heavy Rain, a PlayStation 3 title, was really ambitious with quick time events.

Video games always depict characters using instinct to save themselves or others from peril. In real life, ideally, peril is not ever-present. However, the opportunity to use our instincts is. For instance, I'm sure at some point in your life someone has approached you and said "hello." What did you do in return? Look at them and stare blankly while you decided between "hi," "hello," "good morning," or just a nod? Probably not. You picked a response and had a conversation. Your brain went through a little quick time event. Sure, nothing was at stake. Life would go on if you had said "apple," but all the same you were prompted and your instinct to greet the person back kicked in.

Saying "hello" isn't exactly the most intense example, but it is a relatable one. Real-life quick time events happen all the time. Some of them occurring in the form of decisions. Ever catch a ball that was flying straight toward you? Good job on that quick time event! Job seekers, have you ever seen a posting on craigslist that you qualify for but said "nah?" That was a quick time event that you willingly didn't respond to. The only difference is you won't come back to that moment to "get it right." This isn't guilt, just fact.

The fact that video game characters can respond to situations so quickly and expertly is why we see them as being strong. They don't second-guess what they're capable of, they just do what they can - or must. We too can be just like them. Sure, we won't be hitting any emergency brakes nor making jumps to safety, but we will be accomplishing commonplace feats that make us great people in our own home. Helping someone grab the milk on the high shelf, taking out the garbage, speaking up to volunteer, speaking up to not go through with something that you're being pressured into. All of these things which you may brush off or not feel "strong" enough to accomplish are more possible than you can imagine. It's not as simple as pushing a button, but it takes just as much effort when you set your mind to it.

Give it a try. See if, in your regular day, you can recognize a quick time event and do what you imagine it's prompting you to do. If you have any relatable experiences with real-life quick time events that you want to share, please post in any of the linked social media. I look forward to seeing responses. Until then, game out.

P.S.

I make quick time events out to be very promising, but in execution they actually have somewhat of a poor track record in gamer culture. See below for a humorous take.

Street Fighter IV and Owning Your Character

There's two things we know about Street Fighter character Guile for sure: His theme goes with anything and his advice to any person is that they "go home and be a family man!" Aside from these very memetic things, I wonder how much about Guile the common internet goer knows? Do they know his actual personality? His back story? His rank in the US air force? I'm sure that people who enjoy studying up on the Street Fighter mythos would know all that.

As for me, I actually did not care much for Guile. It's true. In my younger years, I COULD NOT fathom Guile's moveset. The core of Guile's special moves is the mechanic of holding the joystick in one direction, then quickly moving the other way and using an attack. For the life of me, I could not get that timing down. I guess I rather harbored those frustrated times and continued to overlook Guile for that reason.

In particular, the Flash Kick vexed me. Part of the command was 'up.' As in the same 'up' used in jumping!!

In my recent playing of Super Street Fighter IV: 3D Edition I made it a point to give every character a chance. When I played Guile, all that learned behavior came back. The natural aggression I learned playing Ken, Dudley, Rose, etc. clashed with the campy style that Guile promotes. One of Guile's strategies is to keep in a low blocking position so he can punish impatient opponents. Low block? Come on! This is Street Fighter! I want to go in fireballing and uppercutting! Granted I can now appreciate how intricate the fighting system is and how there IS more to it than quarter-circle-punching my way to victory... my stance on Guile hadn't changed.

In addition, I found Guile to be... well, kind of a jerk. In his win quotes, he tended to be condescending in that 'grown-up' way and put people down after winning over them. I guess that being a soldier, he feels a need to discourage others from combat and fighting and all that. Even so, I wasn't a fan.

A little later, my constant playing of the game lead me to take on a different sort of project. As part of that project, I needed to do a character study of Guile. Mind you, the reason I picked Guile was for his memetic qualities alone. All I really wanted was to get a feel for how he behaved in battle so I can build accurate fight scenes involving him. Naturally, the start of this was rather reluctant.

I got a feel for his martial arts in a narrative sense, but I was left wanting more from the gameplay perspective. Thus, I dedicated some time to practice and study.

In time, I got into it. My advanced gamer reflexes could now pull off the timing necessary for sonic booms and flash kicks. I learned the range of Guile's fierce attacks, doing sweeps to stall and charge a special move, and made it a game within a game to see if I can pull off Guile's Ultra attack, much more actually finish a match with it.

Suddenly, I was hyped for Guile. I was learning while I was mopping up and it was fun. I even took pride in his personal mannerisms like sunglasses, his dedication to his hair, and his occasionally ham-fisted demeanor. Because I lived this character, I internalized more his dedication to his mission and the merits of his patriotism. His attitude towards other fighters still left something to be desired, but I knew more than before that Guile was within his character to say those things. He wasn't particularly condescending... he was just Guile. Rather than accentuate the negative to support my aversion to the character, I looked for all the positive to see. After all, a character that I spent so much time learning can't be all that bad, right?

So... what happened here? I circled around Guile for half my life and didn't give him a second thought. Suddenly I gave him the benefit of a doubt and I'm an overnight family man? Not quite.

See, if Street Fighter came from and stuck to a non-interactive medium, say purely big/small screen franchise, I doubt I could have ever taken a shining to Guile. His no-nonsense personality was too abrasive for me. I would have supported him as a protagonist, but only that far. Expanding on his back story may give me more to judge him by, but the character we have here doesn't change much for it.

The video game angle is what caused this change in outlook. It's one thing to know where a character comes from, but it's another to actually BE that character. Having their skills at your disposal gives you a deeper insight into what it's like to be this character. Of course, we can't experience for ourselves the loss of Charlie or take on the strain of remaining a noble soldier while hatred plays your forced muse.

We CAN, however, slip ourselves into Guile's camo and wield his sonic boom. The more we learn a character and turn to them as an ambassador for the Street Fighter experience, the more influence this character can have on us. Suddenly, we are more sympathetic to Guile's mission. We are right there with him when he grips a fist in agony after a time-out loss. After Guile toasts to a temporary victory, speaking to his friend's tombstone, the word 'amen' may be on the tip of your tongue.

Then again, your experience owning a character in a tournament fighter probably isn't so dramatic or in-depth. At the very least, you'd echo a sound bite or mimic a mannerism when you're feeling particularly proud of a win over a real-life friend.

Movies, TV, books, etc. can do a lot to give you an in-depth look at a character. They can weave words and images, or make the character a consistent part of your life as you follow their journeys. Each medium has an advantage over the other to pull off the same narrative goal. Video games are distinct in that they are capable of saying, "You know what? Here. You take control and see what it's like." It's up to the game from there to use perspective, control, gameplay, scripted events, and much more at its disposal to tell its story.

Of course, not every game is an epic tale or descent into the very soul of its protagonist. Then again, what a game is or isn't depends entirely on the imagination of the gamer.

Portal and Inception

Yes, that Inception. Get out your mammoth horns and spinning tops, because we've got to go deeper. Toss in thinking with portals, and we've got today's topic.

As any Internet cynic will tell you, the term "inception" actually has nothing to do with dreams, much less the act of entering one. In fact, the movie dedicates a whole scene to establishing the true definition of the word. Simply put, inception just refers to the point in which something begins. In the case of the film Inception, this thing is an idea. The goal of the movie is to change a person by planting an idea in their head by going into his dream. The inception of this personality change is the point in which he sees this planted idea.

Are you following me so far? If not, that's okay. All you need to know is that in the movie Inception, the characters manipulated a person by planting an idea in his head without him knowing. When this idea came to his attention, he felt like he came to this idea all on his own. As a result, the idea feels like his own and he has no instinct to resist it. He doesn't feel like he's being told what to do. As I watched this movie and heard these concepts explained, I wondered why this felt so familiar. Naturally, my answer ended up being the same old: video games.

In particular, I thought of Valve's mega-popular and memetic Portal. You see, the goal in a typical game is to present challenges to the player and lead them to overcome those challenges. Therefore, the inception of victory will occur while the game is being played. Portal is a great example because the very structure of the game is to undergo this process of challenge, discovery, execution, and victory over and over and over and over again. Really, I could use any game that involves puzzles or strategy. Portal is just easier to talk about and more well-known.

Your first experience with portals may be disorienting, but you'll get over it quickly.

In Portal, you play the role of a human "test subject" who must solve puzzles. The puzzles are solved when you manage to reach an elevator somewhere in a given room. This elevator is often placed out of reach and locked behind some door. You are armed only with  a portal gun and knowledge of how to use physics to your advantage. This portal gun literally shoots portals that you can set into walls, floor, and ceilings. You can only have two portals out at a time, colored orange and blue, and they only lead to each other. Thus, if you want to go somewhere far away, you can just shoot one portal ahead and one nearby. Walk through the nearby portal and you'll be wherever your further portal ended up.

This is all just the tip of the iceberg for Portal's complexity. However, it's enough information to pursue my topic. You can probably already see how Portal can be clever, even devious, with its puzzle designs. In any given puzzle, you already know all the information you need in order to solve it. Say, for instance, you need to place a block on a button in order to keep a door open. However, the block cannot reach the button. Then you may wonder: Since you can pass through portals, can you carry the block through with you? You can! You drop the block on the button and you're free to the elevator.

These moments of epiphany and triumph are common in Portal. You'll find yourself often saying, "Maybe I can... aha!" All it takes is for you to remember one little thing, try that little thing, and you come off with a great and revitalizing victory. Jane McGonigal refers to that feeling as a "fiero moment." "Fiero" is an Italian word loosely translating to "Pride." I suppose there's a cultural wiggle room there that allows us to define fiero also as a realization of one's own potential. The closest we have in the English language is the concept of not knowing one's own strength. But let's combine this with what we already talked about. You only came to this feeling because the game herded you to that victory by handing you everything you needed to succeed.

So, do we feel "played" by the game and its manipulation of our feelings? Or do we consider that our effort and problem-solving are still worth something? It doesn't help that the tests are overseen by a snarky AI who tries to mess with our head the entire way through. Well, it wouldn't be me if I didn't take the rosier approach. You still had to figure out your situation, you still had to make the most of your abilities, and you still had to execute the problem-solving. Sure, it's a video game, and problem-solving in a video game isn't exactly like real life, but that goes both ways. In real life, you might end up not prepared enough to solve a puzzle. On the other hand, a problem in real life might have several solutions, some of which easier and better for all involved. And to be honest, I'd rather feel prepared and wrong than in over my head and wrong. For all we know, "being prepared" can translate to one's ability to improvise. And you will be shocked at how well anyone can improvise.

The sequel adds even more complexity to the mix.

Now I'll turn it over to all of you. What stories do you have of great success and realization of your potential? This applies for in games and off. Successes outside of games, more importantly. If a success in a game can remind you of a success in real life, well, chalk that up as a game learning experience.

I really do hope that this discussion can help you rediscover something awesome about yourself. There needs to be more awesomeness going around the world. And if it does so happen that this post leads to some great revelation, you can thank inception for that. If you can't tell, I want to make the world a better place, one person at a time, starting with fans of games. If and when I accomplish this positive change, the inception of that change will be you reading these posts and being prompted to think on them. I've probably harmed my chances by admitting to it, but it's all for the sake of another point.

"Performing inception" is a real thing. It might not be as direct as in the film, but it happens any time anyone tries to be persuasive. The key is to be discreet, agreeable, and not have the other party feel like they're being told what to do. Think of one standout time that a game performed inception on you. Further, one time you may have performed inception on someone else. It's more common than you think.

I do apologize for the brevity of this particular post. I really did intend on just talking about Portal and Inception. My mind just goes wherever a deeper topic may present itself. In this case, talking about fiero moments. Look on the bright side, you got two posts today.

A discussion within a discussion.

Tales of the Abyss and Mobile Storytelling

For the last two months of 2012, my Nintendo 3DS was more than just a portable gaming console. It was an interactive movie on the run. It was like a book with gamification tossed into the mix. At any time, I could open my system up and immediately be back in the world of Auldrant; either to train my characters or to advance the storyline happening within.

This may sound melodramatic, but it is accurate to how I felt about the game. So what did I do special that gave me such an in-depth experience? Nothing, really. I just carried my 3DS around and played the game whenever I was otherwise indisposed. I suppose it was just the fact that the game being so close to me physically allowed me to feel close to the game in a figurative way.

What I experienced with Tales of the Abyss is called "immersion." Immersion is somewhat of a buzzword in the gaming community that may have lost a little meaning because of how often it's tossed around. Immersion is the phenomenon of being so focused on something that you lose awareness of the world around you. I was immersed in Tales of the Abyss, and not necessarily only when I was playing the game. It sort of stuck to me as I went about my day. I would be thinking about the game's storyline or planning ahead which abilities I wanted my characters to learn next. If ever I had a moment, I could just dive right in and either push towards the next plot point or change my team around.

You see, Tales of the Abyss is a Japanese Role Playing Game. JRPGs tend to pack a lot of story content. Since I had that story content literally in my pocket, my book analogy is appropriate. Let's say that I played Tales of the Abyss on a home console. I would be setting aside time to play it and probably in long sessions. Because I played it mobile, I only played small bits of it at a time in situations where I didn't necessarily set out to play it. Rather than think of my ToA sessions as dedicated "game time," ToA was instead interwoven into my day. My routine. My life, even.

It doesn't hurt that the game itself is really good. The storyline takes place in a typical medieval fantasy setting, the world of Auldrant. The people follow a religious organization called the Order of Lorelei and live their lives according to a scripture called the Score. You follow the main character, bratty aristocrat Luke Fon Fabre, as he is wrenched from his life of luxury and sent on a fantastic quest to save the world. The game world is just full of interesting locations, the plot twists and turns to avoid being predictable, and the characters evolve in rewarding ways.

This crew will become family. Mark my words.

This stellar presentation is backed with very engaging gameplay. Most of the game takes place in 3D environments that you can run around and explore, but fighting takes place on specialized 3D planes. Combat in ToA is a mix between old-school RPG and fighting games. If you know what that means, you should be at least a little curious. If you don't, just rest assured that combat is fast, has a learning curve, and can be very rewarding when you do well. Your characters gain stats, learn new abilities, and develop the more you play.

Between the storyline and the game content itself, I could be sure that whenever I came back to the game, what I played would be rewarding. By the time I was watching the final scene of the game, I had built up enough investment in the game that I could fully appreciate the events of the game's climax. Once the credits were done and I could fully turn the game off, I just had a moment where I sat back and realized to myself, "It's actually over." I came to the realization that I didn't have Tales of the Abyss to come to for more adventure and training. I wasn't addicted, that game had just been such a consistent part of my days that not having it would take some getting used to.

This, my friends, is why I know that complex mobile games are here to stay. My creativity and zeal for life were kept at steady levels because of the fun and intrigue this game injected into my days. Games can be therapeutic in different ways for different people. The consistent quality of Tales of the Abyss is how it was therapeutic for me. Just having fun and satisfying gaming experiences peppered through my day kept me feeling fresh and chipper.

With an introduction movie this good, you know you're in for a good time.

And now, I want you to think about games which have had these effects on you. A game which you got completely immersed in. A game which helps you relax. A game which gets you fired up for the rest of your day. A game that didn't feel like "a game" when you played it. Remember that zen you feel when you're playing the game. Perhaps you'd prefer to call it "being in the zone." Either way, that feeling is great. If we could bottle that feeling and call upon it whenever we wanted, we would all be much happier with our lives and much more emotionally prepared for whatever may come.

If something comes to mind, feel free to share it in the comments below. Perhaps you'd like to ping me on Twitter, PM on tumblr, or mention on Facebook. I'm available on all social media and will be all too happy to feature your idea. I want to start discussions, not just have them with myself.

I also think I'll be settling into a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule with this blog. Perhaps I'll bring in other articles from around the web to feature on my off-days. Either way, I'm on a roll so you can expect another post by the end of the week. Until then, game out.

Super Mario 3D Land and Taking off the Training Wheels

I love the heck out of Super Mario 3D Land for the Nintendo 3DS. One of my friends, however, begs to differ. In a conversation some time back, she says that the game focused too much on one of its features and came out weaker because of it.

The feature in question is the game's "Tanooki Suit" power-up. Simply put, the Tanooki Suit's main function allows Mario to hover in air and generally be much more maneuverable when jumping. Since jumping between platforms is the backbone of the game, having this power-up clearly makes things tons easier.

After that conversation, I knew what I had to do. I created a new file in Super Mario 3D Land and set out to play through the game with one stipulation: Never use the Tanooki Suit. This way I can compare the impact of suit versus no suit.

My friends, this game is amazing when you don't use the Tanooki Suit. The stages are tougher to navigate, more careful jumping is necessary, and you even get to explore more of what the game has to offer.

First and most obvious, the game was more difficult. If I missed a jump over a pit, I couldn't just scramble my way back to try again. It was down into the pit with me. If my jump landed me in front of an enemy, that was my problem to deal with. And I loved it. It was practically a whole new game now that all the circumstances had been changed.  I adjusted my play style to account for a lack of a "get out of trouble free" card and was happily on my way.

Secondly, I came to appreciate the game's other power-ups. Despite the game emphasizing the Tanooki Suit so hard, it contained two other power-ups: the fire flower and the boomerang flower. These power-ups give Mario the ability to launch fireballs or use boomerangs to damage enemies. Boomerangs can even collect coins wherever it goes. However, these items offer no mobility upgrades, so they were booby prizes compared to the Tanooki Suit. In fact, I distinctly remember in my first play through going out of my way to avoid these power-ups. I only used the Tanooki Suit with another one in reserve.

See the shadow, the goomba, the tail in the title? It's everywhere, man.

Now that the "default" power-up was no longer in the picture, I was free to make use of the other two. This also added to the fun factor since I had more choices in how to defeat enemies. I could just clear the path from afar, pull some impressive shots by bouncing the fireballs off of walls, or safely defeat bosses by having my projectiles to the work. I could even carry the other item in reserve just in case I wanted to switch up the play style. I also got less upset when I took a hit and lost the power-up. I still had my core abilities and the way I moved stayed the same. In some cases, I would value the extra hit over the actual abilities of the power-up.

Thirdly, there is just more fun to be had when the game isn't too easy. I was amazed at how the game engaged me. Before, I could just float through - in some ways literally - without much challenge breaking my stride. Now I just had my skill, wits, and reaction time; all of which improved to adjust. For instance, I had to jump from a rotating block to reach a collectible item. The window for making this jump was tiny. I had to wait for the platform to rotate into the optimal position and still jump at the very furthest I could to get the most height and distance. I must had stayed at that point for at least half an hour straight, jumping, falling, coming up short, and having to traverse the whole stage again just for another shot. Finally, one particularly focused jump saw Mario perch himself on top of the flag pole. I earned a 1-up and a golden flag. I thought I had passed out and was dreaming. It probably was the most rewarding thing I had done in a video game in a long time.

If I were using the Tanooki Suit, I could have made the jump with a half-hearted effort on the first try. There also is an alternate way to make the jump much easier, but that would have had to wait way later in the game.

At this point, this post probably closely resembles the previous one, trumpeting the praises of the self-imposed challenge. And that is true that it's similar. In this case, rather than add more challenge to build a new skill, we are instead avoiding the path of least resistance to enrich the experience. I'd instead say that the game was built around Mario's default jumping abilities. Using the Tanooki Suit is more akin to an "easy mode" than the default.

I can now see where my friend's frustration comes in. The game wasn't necessarily middling to easy, it actually is pretty well crafted. However, it came bundled with Nintendo's PR move to put the Tanooki Suit front and center for the throwback effect. If only there were an Options menu button that could remove the Tanooki suit, or some method of bringing to peoples' attentions the possibility of playing the game in such a way. I count one single collectible that absolutely required the Tanooki suit to obtain. Otherwise, you could play through the game, as-is, and complete every objective. To prove my point, here's someone beating the game's toughest level without use of the Tanooki Suit.

This whole thing got me thinking on how we use inhibitors in our everyday life to make things more comfortable. These range from physical assistance such as escalators to mental and emotional processes that lead us away from the strain of thinking for ourselves. Go ahead. Try and find at least one thing you "use" in your life that makes it easier but duller. Do you think you could carry on without that thing for a little bit? I'd like to see you try. Others would probably like to see you try. Most importantly, I'd wager that you would like to see you try.