Hello, dear reader. I am Moxxie. My first videogame was Contra on the NES. I'm a lover of words and music, but videogames are as integral to the core of my being as love and cloudy skies. I am a student and a full-time systems admin at a pretty neat company. I spend more time reading and/or thinking about videogames than playing them. I have trouble choosing favorites, but here are a few:
Final Fantasies VI and XII
Metal Gear Solid 3
Secret of Evermore
My favorite film is Porco Rosso. It's the right choice.
I am not a social creature by nature and I am fine with that. But I do like to discuss videogames and share disembodied words as has become so easy these days.
As I continue to drift through the days of this, the final year, I find that time eludes me. Since I first committed my lovely name to the site, a great many games have seen release. All the while, I've sat idly, head tilted like some poor confused dog, wondering how it's come to pass that I am so disinterested in the greater whole of modern video games. There was a time, I recall, that I waited eagerly to get my hands on a full copy of Diablo III, but time rolled on and anticipation faded to disinterest which later turned to rolling eyes and casually willful abstinence.The final chapter in the Mass Effect Saga stopped by with much fanfare but still I waved it on - a pass entirely. Truth be told, I yawned through E3, later grazing through its tidbits of news with lazy, sleepy eyes.
I don't want more polish and shine. The thought of a new generation of consoles stirs no excitement. I shudder at the very idea of higher-budget titles and further ventures into the DRM rabbit hole. I'm simply not interested in the biggest and baddest new thing. Don't talk to me about your epic, gritty storyline. I don't want to be locked inside someone else's sandbox and offered a bucket and shovel for a few extra coins a piece. I just want to play. I want to get a few splinters in my fingers and find the crawly little bugs on my own. That nagging feeling that videogames are somehow Ďdifferentí now sometimes scratches around in my head.
I am certainly not alone in expressing such opinion. The place has its share of posts about disenchantment with Ďmodern gamingí and growing older and wanting more and rose-tinted glasses and so on and so. I have moments where I long for games Iíve played in what feel like previous lives. I donít yearn for the joy of playing any superior games of old; I just want to slip back into serene moments where I could feel a certain balance in the world. There, in an earlier stage of youth, sitting in the soft glow of the television screen at some ill-reasoned hour, I could get lost in some other place, some other time - Evermore, Midgar, Hong Kong in the 80ís. On nights like that, my whole life would stretch in front of me and concerns became a distant echo on foreign shores.
When I think about it rationally, itís not the games I miss. Theyíre still here. Theyíre in a cabinet across the room, theyíre in boxes, theyíre in the hands of friends. Hell, I can even make the time to play them. But even the best of them I hesitate to dust off and bring to life. A solid game is always so, but thereís no guarantee on the magic. I am not the same person as that shy, sheepish, middling teenager, so the magics no longer hold sway over me. One can never go back, Iím told.
Truth be told, video games are, in many ways, in a terrific place. Content and complexity is impressive. Indie games are a dime-a-dozen and often shockingly well-crafted. Prices are reasonable. Itís a fantastic industry for all its slime and undesirable filth. Iíve almost felt twinges of envy toward the generation growing up with todayís games, but then, Iíd never trade my experiences for anything.
I love videogames more than any previous time in my life despite my massive lack of commitment to actually playing them. Itís strangely sensible to me. Iíve less free time than I did in my teenage years, more disposable income, and the ability to acquire more games more easily thanks to online distribution and patience. So I play what I want when I have the time and desire and I play how I want. If that means modding the hell of out Fallout 3 and never following the story and just stopping after a couple dozen hours, thatís fine. Playing several characters in Dark Souls all the way up to the final boss and stopping? All good.
So I hereby rescind the notion of abolishing Ďgamerís block.í I just play games sometimes.
Iím Moxxie, a long-time enthusiast of the videogames. I have been alive since the middle of the Eighties and have been fascinated by assorted electronic media for much of that time. I have a permanent companion who also loves videogames, but I do not think that she thinks about them as much as I do. Iíve been reading Destructoid for a somewhat limited amount of time, but find myself in recent months on the site daily via mobile phone. I once spent a great deal of free time writing stories and blogs and various bits of thought, but have, as of late, fallen out of said practice. This blog is created with the intent of rekindling the practice of writing with an obvious focus on games.
As weíve (somewhat) recently slid into the start of another year, Iíve noticed a wealth of people discussing their videogame backlogs and goals for the year. Whether itís simply an effort to catch up on the previous yearís new releases or perhaps trying to justify a wealth of Steam holiday purchases, people have plenty of games that they want to complete. I am not so different. Though Iíve no list, there are certainly videogames that I have intention to play. Despite this, one might say that I am plagued with a certain condition. Perhaps this is familiar. Perhaps an acquaintance has this issue. Perhaps you, dear reader, are like me.
I chronically leave games unfinished. Now, donít misunderstand. Everyone (I assume?) purchases a game now and then that fails to meet expectations. Or maybe it just doesnít click. Itís certainly easy enough to come by a number of titles that are inexpensive enough to be bought on a whim. Any game, big or small, can disappoint and I should think that many a player would abandon something found unenjoyable.
This is not the issue I address. Games that I love have, in recent years, fallen largely to the wayside. Consider: I purchased in 2011 perhaps a dozen games, perhaps as many as two dozen. During the year, I completed maybe nine? Out of those nine games, three were games purchased in 2011. Granted, this discounts games designed to be completed over and over in fairly rapid succession as with arcade-style games. This is due in no way to disliking my yearís purchases! The chief example of 2011 is Dark Souls. Unquestionably in my shortlist of all-time favorites, Iíve yet to complete the game. More perplexing still is the fact that Iíve probably dumped a hundred or so hours across numerous characters, each with different focus. I can navigate nearly the entire world of Dark Souls handily but still, at some point, I just stop playing.
Many games have succumbed to such a fate in my hands: Valkyria Chronicles, Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Vagrant Story, Borderlands, Oblivion, Fallout 3, Dead Space, even Resident Evil 4. I could go on and on and on. . . Note also, during 2011 I played through Half Life 2 and its subsequent episodes yet again. As well as Cave Story and Mother 3. Again.
Perhaps itís not so odd. Maybe these tried and true experiences bring comfort. Perhaps thereís just no room to love any new games in my cold, little heart. But wait! I do love Dark Souls even without finishing it. And I did finish NieR and it, too, is dear to me. Iíve plenty of love to give to my games. So it is this Ďquirkí that I will solve during this, the final year. That is my 2012 Ďresolution in videogames.í