Please, please go buy Just Cause 2 early on. I fear it's going to hit the same sales mark its predecessor did, despite the fact that it has improved in almost every way. The mind-twizzling stuff you can do is more entertainment than should be legal, and out of 5 sessions of the 30 minute demo, I have not bothered to start a mission.

Furthermore, the demo showcases a relatively small part of the map and only a sliver of the weapons and vehicles. Red Faction: Guerilla was my favorite purchase of last year, and only ceased to be fun when I realized how little there was to do. The over-the-top nature of Just Cause 2 and the Lego box feel of building stunts and action sequences makes this game worth keeping an eye on at least.



And if they released a Crackdown-esque God mode tool where you can mess around and spawn items at will, this should be a Day 1 purchase for everyone.

Hey guys, I know the video quality is less than stellar, but I just got a digital camera, and I would love to take a photojournal of the PAX East sexiness.



Also, here is the pic from the Miami NARP where Colette signed my EDF:

It's a little blotchy, but I like it.

Attention citizens of Destructoid!

I think it's about time that we had a town meeting. The topic of tonight's meeting is legitimizing our medium. Now, before you all run away screaming because you think I'm slinging pretentious Reverend Anthony jibber jabber your way, just hear me out.

I saw this video recently, and though it is a couple of months old, I think it does a good job summarizing the crossroads at which the gaming industry finds itself. I ask that you watch it, as it will give the basis for the rest of the article. Go ahead, I will wait.



....

Are you done yet?

Good.

Moving on. The whole video is very well done, but I think the fascinating part comes in Mr. Floyd's thought that perhaps the gaming industry should rebrand itself. His primary example was the comics industry and their move to the term "graphic novels". I've never really thought about it before, because by the time I was old enough to read comics, "legitimate" comics had fought their way into the mainstream. Alan Moore was in full production mode and I was not subject to the social awkwardness that a comics fan in the '70's would've endured. Yet, unfortunately, there is still a difference in my mind between a "comic" and a "graphic novel". A comic can be ridiculous in its plot points, and dance in and out of light social activism whenever it fancies. A graphic novel seems to be a more focused affair that sets out to say something meaningful.

It seems that the games industry could take a few lessons from the history of the comic book medium:

1. We must shed the misconception that videogames are for _______. Games started off as a distraction for kids and a tech demo for old computers. The industry, however, is now in a position to expand. Some games are great for children and some games are great for adults. There is certainly enough room (and money!) floating around in the industry to suit the needs of every niche. However, first we must:

2. Establish that we want something new. By reading this blog, I can assume that you are a) interested enough in gaming to take it beyond a passing interest and b) give thought to what media you consume. The unfortunate reality is that mass media has a proven pattern, and we have done nothing to break it. Movies publish sequels until they stop making money, Madden will sell a billion copies annually, and for some reason, Britney Spears is considered relevant. My intention though is not to make Modern Warfare 2 less popular. I am much more interested in showing publishers that there are developers out there who have artistic potential, can create a faithful following, and, logically, earn them money and respect. In the same vein, developers who have creative ideas that rely on minimalistic production values must be supported, both by large publishers and by grassroots efforts.

3. The barrier between "artgame" and "mainstream game" needs to be dissolved. The idea that a game needs to be shallow or simple to appeal to the populous at large is perhaps our greatest challenge as a culture and as an industry. Also, the concept that a game has to sacrifice fun, entertainment, or the ability to engage to be meaningful is inane. I am aware that many AAA games are multimillion dollar gambles, and the inefficiency of bloated companies is to blame for that. But there is a middle ground that has only recently begun to come into focus (World of Goo and Portal being prime examples) that allows for games to be fresh while also maintaining a high level of polish.

I enjoy games. I love games. I love playing games and thinking about games and reading about games and writing about games. Gaming has been a part of my life since I can remember, and they have remained as my only constant. I am not wont to argue about whether we should call them "videogames" or "interactive experiences" or something else. I simply hope that by banding together, we can take control of our medium and experience something incredible because of it. But you, as a reader of Destructoid, as a consumer of games, must fight to close the gap between the indie and the mainstream. It is up to you to invest in the future of gaming, both financially and otherwise. Our medium's expansion depends on the work that we support today.

There are 3 facts about me that make me a miserable person.

1. I love stories

2. Reading for long periods of time frustrates me, because I am very slow

3. I have very little leisure time

While I should probably rethink my choice to pursue writing as a career, I am nonetheless drawn to a good story. Or an average, clichéd story. Or even a bad story. I love to tear into any story, guilty pleasure or not, if it is engaging. Stories can come in many wonderful forms: prose, poems, music, art, and even videogames. Especially videogames. For me, gaming is probably the most significant, most consistent portion of my life. I picked up a controller 19 years ago, and I have never stopped playing.

Gaming and solid narrative have always had a sordid affair, especially with the evolution of graphical prowess. Narrative in games can be expressed linearly or non-linearly, realistically or fancifully, interactively or non-interactively. I am not the man to argue about the nature of the medium or the inherent conflict of interactivity and narrative. I am only a lowly gamer that has a love/hate relationship with the premier king of engaging narrative: the JRPG.

The Japanese game market is a funny thing. Unlike the American side which constantly thirsts for new and different experiences (well, in some cases at least), the Japanese seem to be perfectly content releasing endless iterations of popular franchises once a winning formula has been found. That is not to say that innovation is not fostered as well, but more times than not, the safe horse wins the bets.

The most enduring crown jewel of Japanese gaming is the Japanese Role Playing Game. Whether turn-based or dynamic, the concept is simple. You battle to upgrade some sort of statistic or trait in order to level up from a lowly boy in a small village to become the ultimate savior of the world.

Oftentimes you and multiple characters are androgynous and your quest is always the same: save the world from some ancient, unimaginable evil. There are games that diverge from that motif a little, but not with great financial success (I’m looking at you Earthbound).



However clichéd, the epic scale of a good JRPG story cannot be denied. A good Final Fantasy game may be a carbon copy of the versions before it, but by the end of the hours-long campaign, you feel as if you have legitimately changed the face of the world. The boss battles in these games are grand, and require a decent knowledge and comfort with the game itself. Most of the time, you feel as if you are working towards a clear objective, and that everything you do is related to your quest, whether minor or major. Also, the many hours that you spend with the characters allow you to form a real bond to them, and give them a chance to become fleshed out and authentic.



Or, the characters can be totally 2-dimensional, the story predictable and the boss battles tedious. There is no worse feeling in the world than being invested deeply into a boss battle or dungeon and suddenly have the experience despite your best input. It has been 20 minutes since the last save point and the boss that you spent 15 minutes chipping away at suddenly released energy and killed your whole party all at once. Now you lost the gold that you gained, you have another 35 minutes before the boss will rip you a new one again, and worst of all, you know you have dozens of random encounters to sit through.



Grinding and random encounters are the true bane of the JRPG. This devious duo is why the game is artificially lengthened, and why developers justify cheap tactics on bosses. If you are truly the hero of the ages, what are you doing roaming the forest killing wolves and bats? Shouldn’t you be chasing down the head of Evil MegaCorporation or looking for the sword of the Dragon Gods or something? The feeling of working through a long, trying dungeon and running out of potions only to realize that you would have to fight 100 battles to retreat and that you will lose to the overpowered boss ahead of you is the single most harrowing experience that a gamer can experience. The helplessness is overwhelming, and there is nothing but shame and anger when you load up that save from an hour ago.

And you thought you didn’t need that goddamned tent.

You’re walking along the crowded city streets of ancient Jerusalem or Liberty City, the specifics aren’t important. You’ve been exploring these same streets for years, in a different context every time, but the faces never change. All of a sudden, boredom overcomes you and you wonder what would happen if you trick that generic looking citizen into walking into your cleverly placed rat trap. You’ve set up a Rube Goldberg machine of landmines, falling debris, and perhaps, if you’re feeling very devious, chainsaws. The naïve fool is left in a bloody, poorly rendered mess, and in all likelihood, you return to the “normal game” that the developers intended.

These little diversions are fun, but there is always a tinge of guilt, or excitement, the first time that you perform a nasty little experiment. It is the taboo, unnatural element that makes breaking the rules so entertaining. Sure, Rockstar knows that gamers are going to go on a rampage to see how much destruction they can cause, but it is because the game seems to punish this activity that it seems so exciting. If “Press the X button to cap a pedestrian in the face” was in the tutorial, the pastime would offer little more than a few shallow chuckles.

Many ancient games did not allow for exploration in the same freeform fashion that the open-world era offers, but even developers then acknowledged and rewarded illicit behavior. Do you remember the first time you chose to pummel the chickens in A Link to the Past? Nintendo knew that gamers were naturally curious, and decided to grace us with perhaps the most entertaining punishment ever.



But it is that unexplored, virgin territory that makes interactive experimentation so thrilling. A rational person would never devote time to thinking of how many people they could run over before their car inexplicably set on fire, or how many town guards they could fend off before being overrun, but in the context of a game, these are reasonable questions with interesting answers.

Yet, in gaming, the concept of evil is totally lost on the curious. Surely a person can’t be judged for running over a guy in a game. A real body would not have flown 30 feet in the air and glitched into a stray polygon! It is this separation of the real and the unreal that is integral to the healthy development of any gamer.



The illusion of evil in games has little to do with the actual content of the games, and more on the media circus surrounding the games themselves. During the infamous Columbine shootings, the police discovered that one of the shooters had used the Doom Map Editor to plot out his school, complete with unarmed enemy models and ran through the course daily to memorize the layout of the school. The obsessive, twisted nature of that one individual has haunted the medium of gaming ever since.

Developers have begun to combat this by removing the possibility for many of the more politically incorrect scenarios. Most modern games do not feature children or elderly that can be harmed. Nudity and true gore are not available to prevent rape and torture scenarios. The use of zombies and terrorists as generic enemies offer a disassociation from the reality that you, as a player, are simulating murder. You are the hero, justified in all that you do, because most games cannot be bothered to be bogged down by actual moral quandaries. Moral choices in most games include the evil option simply out of curiosity.

No, true evil in games comes in the curiosity of every day people exploring questions and scenarios that they don’t typically think about on a day-to-day basis. A good book or movie or even linear game narrative can prod you to think about subjects that are typically deemed to be evil, but only the medium of interactivity can allow you to create a barrier whereby you commit the evil yourself, of your own free will.

Modern Warfare 2 or Edmund can force you to do evil things, but the justification on the part of the player is that you are following a scripted story by the developer. When you kill a child in Fallout 1 and 2, it was just because you could. When you put your Sim into a pool and take out the ladders, it was to watch them die like an ant below a magnifying glass. When you are left to guard the hostages in Counter-Strike and you kill them all, losing the whole team money, you are doing so out of morbid curiosity