Author Archives: Filemon

UNO, Bitch!

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about a board game based on an MMO*. On the one hand, it’s social interaction with other human beings. On the other, it’s a board game based on an MMO. I’m all for board and card games. When I used to live in a house, UNO ruled the roost, with Street Puzzle Fighter II Turbo coming in a close second.

I enjoy analog games (I’m referring to board and card games, in this case) quite a bit. There’s nothing wrong with breaking out a box and getting some friends together and playing. Although the “getting some friends together” seems to be the hardest part. That’s why it was so much fun in the house. You already had the two to eight players necessary for a round of whatever you wanted to play.

Then there was the rampant cheating, which I enjoyed quite a bit. The house rule for UNO was, “If you get caught cheating, eight card penalty.” The operative word in that rule being, “caught.” I remember one time we finished playing UNO and we ended up with more cards than when we started. I couldn’t fit the cards back in the box, I think we had three decks instead of two.

The game isn’t important at that point, it’s the socialization. Which is why a version of World of WarCraft bothers me so much. The computer takes care of so many rules behind the scenes that you can socialize through chat without having to do anything other than have fun. When you’re rolling dice and following the rules outlined in a game manual that is forty pages long, I’m not sure you’ll have enough time to socialize when you’re not playing the undocumented super secret elite class, “Rules Lawyer.”

I’ve skimmed through the manual and it looks very tedious. I’m sure that there is a market for people that will buy this game, people who have level 60 characters, have all epic equipment, and are rabid fans of Blizzard. For me, that eighty dollars (Yes, eight-zero.) is better spent on my monthly fees.

Some may argue that pen and paper roleplaying games have rules, books and books of them. I argue that these games have Game or Dungeon Masters. Their role is to streamline games. The good ones bend rules when necessary, make judgment calls, and arbitrate conflicts between players. I’d like to take this time to point out an example from a friend of mine, I hope she doesn’t mind me quoting part of her story here.

Two characters (and naturally, the players) were having an argument over a ring which may or may not have been magical. Their bickering was holding up the game, and making people uncomfortable. It escalated to the point where one character actually swallowed the ring to keep it from the other character. In order to keep the game moving, she made a decision:

“You pass the ring in 1d4** days.”

I don’t see that in the WoW rulebook.

* Massively Multiplayer Online (Game)
** One die four. A pen and paper role playing game term that means, “Roll one four sided die.” 2d10, 4d8, 6d6, 1d20, etc.

Damn.

Went to bed at nine-thirty last night.

Woke up around sixish. Felt really good.

Shadow of the Colossus

The word “experience” really is an apt descriptor for Shadow of the Colossus. At a certain point, it ceases to exist as a game you play and becomes something you experience.

The narrative (which isn’t a very accurate word, there’s not a lot of talking) is simple: A wanderer on horseback brings a young girl’s body to an ancient temple. The wanderer knows the legend of the Colossi. If they are defeated, they grant power great enough to bring people back from death. His path is clear.

This is their story.

How well crafted is it? There are niggling bits that I could mention that are simply limitations of the media. * To mention them would be like complaining about a stellar movie that I watched simply because it is always the same no matter how many times I see it.

As games go, Shadow of the Colossus is beautiful. The music, the landscape, the story, the mechanics are such that I was driven to complete it. That does not happen often. It’s that good.

The sense of accomplishment and elation after defeating a Colossus is unparalleled. However, that celebratory feeling is laced with doubt. Is this the right thing to do?

There is a very poignant moment near the endgame which nearly had me in tears. I had to pause the game and compose myself before continuing on.

This is one of the most emotional games I have ever played. Please do not miss Shadow of the Colossus.

* Minor camera issues. I mention this because I feel that I would be remiss if I did not bring it up. After having completed Shadow of the Colossus, I realize now that when I was fighting with the camera trying to look at something else, it was actually pointing me at what I should be paying attention to. It was a not so subtle hint that I was ignoring. In fact, the last Colossus would have been much simpler (and not a two hour confrontation) had I just paid attention to what I was looking at. Thank you developers.

Colossus Hunter

I spoke about Shadow of the Colossus earlier, and it’s very different from most games out there.

It is engrossing, however, as I brought down seven Colossi last night without thinking about how late it was.

Without revealing too much, every time I defeat one, I find myself questioning if it’s the right thing to do. I’m fairly certain that it’s not, just from the snippets of plot that I’ve digested. Why the protagonist even starts this quest, I’m not really certain.

Mortals are mortals after all.

Falling Water

It’s raining.

I can smell the wet playground from here. The windows are open. It’s October. I can tell because of all the orange and black decorations on the bulletin boards. Mr. Christiansen is at the front of the class, teaching algebra underneath the crucifix. I can see an x and a y on the board, but I’m finding it hard to listen because of the rain.

It’s getting progressively louder on the awnings above the windows. Then the sound of rain gives way to something that sounds like tons of gravel being poured out of a truck. Mr. Christiansen opens the door to the playground and takes a look outside.

He laughs.

“Hail.” He says.

I stand up and look out the windows.

The playground, normally black asphalt, is white.

Pieces of ice, the size of chocolate malt balls, have covered the entire playground. I’m astounded. Frozen water, falling from the sky.

We all look at Mr. Christiansen for a moment. Nothing is said. Finally, he takes a step outside the door and tells us, “Ten minutes. And no running.”

I run outside and pick up a bunch of hail that’s frozen together. It looks like a clump of fish eggs. People start throwing chunks of ice at each other and it all starts to melt too quickly.

The ten minutes are over and Mr. Christiansen calls us back inside. He tells us about how hail is formed, how specks of dust collect supercooled water that are then buffeted by winds up and down in the atmosphere before they become heavy enough to fall to earth.

I’m not really listening.

It’s raining. Continue reading →