Keep in mind that I've played Crisis Core, Disgaea/2, and can't stand grinding. Monotonous battles get boring, especially when the go on for seemingly forever.

So, for a grind-hating RPG newbie, are there options?

I'm considering doing more of these. Possibly under a moniker of "Irrelevant and Irreverant" or something similar. Feedback much appreciated.

Before I really say anything, here's some bullet facts most of you won't care much about.
-I'm talking about the Wii version. There is a DS version, but I have not played it.
-All comparisons between Galaxies and Retro Evolved are to the PC version of Retro Evolved.


I'm going to assume nobody here is a stranger to Geometry Wars. Ok, no I'm not.

Geometry Wars is a fast, chaotic, brightly colored dual-stick shooter, originally added as an extra in Project Gotham Racing 2 (I think it was 2... it's not important) and later released on XBLA. It's simple, intense, arcade-y goodness. I love it.

As time went on, the game evolved, mostly visually, but also with a few new enemies and such. I first played the game under its "Retro Evolved" edition. I had fun. It got pretty repetitive, but not really boring, thanks to the sheer intensity. Basically, you are in a box, and various shapes spawn and try to collide with you. It's hallucinogenically delicious.

A time later, a shelved wii game caught my eye at the store. Geometry Wars: Galaxies, it called itself. From what I could see on the back of the case, it seemed quite the upgrade. Varied levels and modes, multiplayer, and the use of the classic controller to preserve dual-stick play. (Pointer's there, but it sucks) So I bought it.

I took it home, put it in, and immediately felt that something was wrong. The shapes, and my ship, are smaller. This irked me. It also irked me that the multiplier, which I would rarely get to 10 on Retro Evolved, rapidly advanced well past 50 my first play. I also did not expect the small white square that followed me around and shot at things for me.

In Retro Evolved, the multiplier goes up over time, or based on kills. Either way, it'll happen sooner or later. In Galaxies, each downed enemy drops a small yellow trinket. A "Geom." Grab a geom, the multiplier goes up. Geoms also serve as currency, to unlock new levels and bot (the white square from before) behaviors.

I at first found these changes to be awful, but felt compelled to keep playing, for fear of having wasted my money on the purchase. Thankfully, over time, I started to see the wisdom behind the decisions.

See, in Retro Evolved, you have a rectangular box. That's it. Galaxies offers many different sizes and shapes for arenas, as well as varied obstacles. This means that one could conceivably take advantage and find places to camp. By basing the score multiplier on pickups, the player is forced to move around if he wants a high score. The smaller shapes and players means more screen real estate. Arguable as to whether or not that's a GOOD thing, but it's justified. The geom=money bit... Ok, that one's a bit of a cheap trick. To keep going through the game, you'll probably have to do a couple levels over again. It extends gameplay in a way it doesn't need to. I think it has about the same replay value no matter what, cuz it's all about short, fast, intense survival rounds.



The bot... Eh, I just started to like the little guy. Though I must admit, one "personality" for him was VASTLY superior to the rest. Kinda nulls the point of being able to choose. But it's a cool idea.

Besides, even if it's not the best thing for him to do, it was still awesome to watch him ram into dudes for me.

Multiplayer... Kinda halfassed.Instead of allowing two people into the main game, they set aside a few levels specifically for multiplayer. Varied, yes, but few, and it feels a bit tacked on and unnecessary.

Also, the game has Retro Evolved included, which is pretty cool. It removes geoms and hazards and all the new stuff, but keeps the objects small. It works pretty well.

I could go into detail about the different stuff to do in the game. Certainly the most entertaining one, for me, was when there was essentially a black hole in the center, and everything (you and enemies alike) are forced to orbit it. It was pretty awesome. Most others are more forgiving, but you're basically guaranteed to find some levels you hate and some you love.

But that could get long-winded and dumb, so I'll just leave with the fact that it's a great game, the best that I've seen from the series. One of the best I've seen from the genre. It's varied and intense, but still simple. Though, without a classic controller, the pointer might get a little frustrating. Unless you don't hate it.

God knows I do... I hate it so much...

If indeed, you are like me, the title caught your eye. It is, in fact, the title of a flash game over at Newgrounds. It's one of the most creative experiences in a flash game ever, from both a gameplay and presentation viewpoint. It even has a level editor, and an interface to use user levels.

The author description posted is as follows:
_________________________________
Time Cfuk is a game about stasis, its a game about perspective and viewing both sides of the story from afar, its a game about blocks, platforms, drinking, high school reunions and work time fun.

Time Fcku is a "puzzle platformer" about finding logic in irrelevance, its a 1+1=2 formula that will ask more from you after you leave it alone, its a community experience about communication with people who you dont like.

Time KcuF is not an art game, its an allegorical game about stuff you've never experienced, its an escape from your current existence, its the feeling of loss and panic.

Time Fcuk is a play on how if one changes around the letters in a word even though it means nothing
logically, we all still see it as something that its not.
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To check it out now, without my writeup, which contains spoilers, check it out here:

http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/511754

If you'd rather stick around and learn more before playing, or if you want to read and not play, well, then, hello.

Anyways, the game is, at its core, a puzzle-based platformer. The graphics are pixelly, but only for style. It excels, however, in the creative engine it uses. There's not a huge variety of tiles to use, but they work well and accomplish what they need to. The real kicker is in the dimension-switching mechanic. Almost every level will have at least 2 planes of existence, which you can cycle through at will. trying to shift into occupied space will kill you, but if a block shifts into occupied space, it obliterates whatever was there.

All in all. It's mostly straightforward. Point A to Point B. Or grab a couple keys in between. You know, whatever.

But beyond the game design, or even the level design, is the amazing way the game is presented to you. It begins with you, an unnamed dude, running into a room, empty save for a small box. An identical character pops out of the box, introduces himself as you, sent back in time 20 minutes from now to put you in the box. He talks a bit, and shoves you in.

This puts you into the first level, which teaches you how to move and jump. This delightful knowledge is given to you via a message from yourself further on in time. You go to the end portal, and go to level 2. This level similarly introduces you to the concept of switching dimensions, again via a message from a future you. You don't shut up immediately, however, and will occasionally interject with odd messages, like "I'm in room 2, I don't see a way out. Who's Steven?"

Further on, the messages from you take on a less instructional tone. "It feels like my brain is sloshing around in my skull. Feels familiar, and oddly comforting." "My teeth fell out again. The empty holes scream when I sleep." Also, when you die, you taunt yourself. "Amusing." "When you died, I felt it." and "B===D~~~" are among your lines. From creepy to silly, they add character.

A little ways in, a small growth appears at your neck. You are told by yourself that the growth is named Steven. We know this because Steven told us so. Steven seems to have a tendency to grief future versions of you, calling them filthy, or awful, or whatever.

Further on, the growth matures, and resembles a small child, attached to you. Steven then disappears, and you are told things ended poorly.

Time progressively ceases to follow a line, and you often hear "I'm in a blue room with no exit. Help?" "I'm in Room 4 again... Am I going backwards?" "Steven told me you're a liar" "I'm in room 2. I don't see a portal. And who's Steven?"

The messages are the real meat of the presentation, taking it from a kinda trippy idea to a more fleshed-out what-if scenario. One message claims "Steven mentioned something odd before he left. He said your name was also Steven." For the dim among us, this strongly hints that you are indeed the same entity that split from you.

Upon reaching the last level, you tell yourself "this is the room in which you die. Just take the pill, end it now. There's no way out." If indeed you hit the suicide button, as suggested, you will end the game with you taking the pill, your head exploding, and a cutscene, showing you popping out of a box, in front of someone identical to yourself. You explain that you were sent back 20 minutes in time to tell him that he needs to get in the box. You then shove him in. Yes, this scene is identical to the intro. That's the point.

After shoving him in, you run off, and your body splits off into many other identical Stevens, all running in different directions.

If, though, you decide NOT to kill yourself, you beat the last level by finding, and promptly merging with, another you. This then triggers the same cutscene and splitting Steven cutscene. The only other difference is the end text is different: The suicide ending criticizes the fact that youre reading it. The merged ending tells a somewhat disturbing tale of a boy in a box.

It's an experience worth having, even with my spoilers. Go now.

We have established here in our Weekly Musing theme that gaming communities suck. There are many reasons for this: Trolls, Flames, Fanboys, etc.

The problem is, that's just how we are. We, as gamers, tend to be dicks about it. You don't know what "One-shot, greenbox" means? NOOB. Don't get it when I say "Ryu's overhead"? LOL SCRUB. Like the 360? RROD lul failbox... You think Killzone's better than COD? WELL F*CK YOU THEN, GO SUCK SONY'S (some manner of jumbled typing that nobody understands)



Yes, baby, it's awful, I know.

These people exist, and they don't go away. For each and every one of us who looks down on these people, there's one for us to look down on. And more.

I cite the Greater Internet Dickwad theory:


To put the above into detail, allow me to paraphrase the basics in a grossly verbose manner:

People have a desire to be assholes. Society says being an asshole is bad. Thus the desire to be an asshole is repressed. Upon removing accountability, we no longer care if society says it's bad. That's part of why people talk about 4chan as the single most concentrated hive of wretched scum and villainy this world has ever seen.

But goatse is neither here nor there. The point is, given the chance, many people in this world will lose control and become, to quote Gabriel, Total Dickwads.

As much as it saddens me to say it, you and I will not be able to stop this. We may not partake in this behavior, but that is a metaphorical drop in the metaphorical bucket of not-so-metaphorical dickwaddery.

The only way to stop it is to remove the required components. Fire requires Heat, Fuel, and Oxygen. Dickwaddery, according to Gabriel, requires a Person, An Audience, and Anonymity.

We cannot possibly remove the audience, nor the person, lest we destroy the community itself. Literally. It needs people to exist, and people become audiences.

That leaves anonymity. Is it really possible to take that away? Without any clear identifiers to differentiate one person from the next, it's tough. It's always possible for a banned dickwad to make a new account. Tie the account to an email address? He'll find a new one of those too.

Things begin to look bleak. Perhaps Dickwaddery is here to stay. We can't conceivably take away People, Anonymity, or the Audience, so what can we do?



Why, yes, baby, you're RIGHT! The Greater Internet Dickwad Theory DOES state that we need to have a "Normal Person"

This leaves us with one clear answer: Don't be normal. Normal people turn into dickwads. Refuse the temptation.

The problem is us, and that's not gonna change unless we do. Not "we" as in you and I, reader, but "we" as in gamers. All gamers. Until we all stop being infantile dickwads (No offense, baby) then our communities are gonna suck.

Quite simple, really.