Delusions of Gaming Grandeur

I had been under the impression that I was nearing the end of Final Fantasy XIII. At twenty hours, something in my muddled mind said the end was only hours away. Then, as I wondered what the third disc in my game set might hold if this alleged culmination of my fumbling use of Paradigm Shifts was within my grasp, I remembered:

The tutorial aspect of the game ends after twenty hours.



Still, I am enjoying the game quite a bit. I would gladly throw two of the main characters off a cliff and sleep well that night, though. Vanille is a horror show of cutesy, and Hope is a whining emo bastard who needs two weeks of solid ditch digging to knock the mewling out of him. Yet the main character of Lightning--seen above kicking government ass--and Fang (who I always think would smell of clove cigarettes) are some of the most engaging characters I've seen in awhile.



I've also been rocking Pokemon Heartgold, with now two Gym badges under my belt. I stand alone in my appreciation of this RPG with my more hardcore, heavy drinking gamer companions. The level of detail that is crammed into this game is a cheerful celebration of OCD. The Pokewalker is one of those rare gimmicks that is actually fun in and of itself. I'm not sure how much of a pedometer it actually is, but carrying it around with me surreptitiously throughout the day has won me some very nice loot drops and at least two caught Pokemon.

I have made it a point to follow some of the more, shall we say, involved Pokemon threads on sites like NeoGaf and Penny Arcade, and the level of dedication and complexity in this game still makes me smile.

I also have been playing Etrian Odyssey 2 on the DS.



This has been on my wishlist for awhile. I first heard about it on Active Time Babble, the superb RPG podcast on 1up.com. Etrian is said to be one of the toughest RPGs in the current generation, so of course I have to throw myself against it to see for myself. The hardcore element lies in the expected level of grinding, but also in the map-making you have to do as you traverse the dungeons. You draw the map on the lower screen of the DS, and if you make a mistake--like not putting a door where there is one, you can well and truly screw yourself over if you try to escape. It appeals to my nature to have to go over every single detail as I move my party through the dungeon, nerdily writing down everything I see, leaving the correct icons and making notes to myself. On top of that, healing seems to become more expensive the more times you make use of it. I think if the technology were available, Etrian would also shock you every time you died fighting, just to drive home the point that you suck.

It reminds me of 1st Edition Dungeons and Dragons, with that same feeling of 'You can die around any one of these corners' I remember from my sessions back in the Eighties. And I miss that degree of gaming sadism.

But my real joy lately has been playing Battlefield: 1943 with two of London's premier bloggers, Jim Dandy Goodness and Crazylegs of Theater of Cruelty.



I am not a shooter guy at all, but playing online with these two jokers has been incredibly conducive to me wanting to play more of them. But only if these two guys have my back. Instead of wading into the adolescent screaming and raging of most online games, it's fun to grab a tank and discuss London radio hosts while blowing shit up on Iwo Jima. Create an Xbox Live party, create our own squad, and we don't have to deal with all the screaming and howling from the raging masses of asshole kids. It's rather peaceful, in a way, like having a coffee with good friends, but with more sniping.

So that's where I'm spending my precious gaming hours. You?

Pokemon Sunday

Why we don't get this--a show dedicated to Pokemon called Pokemon Sunday-- in North America makes me weep. I can't imagine any better way to deal with a post-Saturday night hangover than this.

Retro Sundays: The Legion of Super-Heroes #311 (May 1984)

First, a little explanation on how Retro Sundays work. Every Sunday morning, I push myself out of bed, wave away the red wine hangover, and stumble down to the Comic Dungeon. I've picked a random longbox of comics, turned it around so I can only see the back of the comics when I lift them out. In that way, I don't know what each book will be each week until I turn it around. So I am not making any dedicated effort to read any title in its entirety. Whatever the next book is, that's what the next book is. There is no plan. There never is.

So, onto this week's book. Another Legion title, since I did get a little Legion mad back in the mid-Eighties. This is really a plot custodial issue, since two long running plotlines are wrapped up, but both in very different ways.

In the first story, while the rest of the Legion are en-route home from that business with Big Face Omen on Khundia, Brainiac Five tries to finally free Computo from inside the head of a little girl. Computo is the evil computer assistant Brainy made to help him out round the lab. That didn't work out so well. (see: Hank Pym and Ultron) The problem is, Brainy is all distracted thinking about Supergirl, so this allows Computo to make its move. This move includes smacking Brainy around like a rented mule, and as Bouncing Boy and Duo Damsel look on outside, results in the complete destruction of Legion H.Q.

But this is Brainiac Five. Turns out he had a plan. Unbeknownst to readers, he had a new containment system ready to go, and poor, circuit mad Computo got sucked into that during the explosion. Now he's the Legion's butler, and to show how grateful he is, he remakes the entire Legion headquarters in minutes. The story even ends with a panel of Brainy laughing at his awesomeness.

Very much a quick moving, Eighties style Legion story. It's great because the secret plan Brainy had is just so ludicrous, and feels like Levitz had had enough of the plotline itself and wanted it finished. Having a brand new H.Q. just adds to the idiocy, and the joy.

The second story also wraps up a plotline--this time Dawnstar's search for a mate. The art here is by Gene Colan, who I always associate with Marvel's horror titles like Tomb Of Dracula. It was bit of a shock to see him here, but I actually enjoy his artstyle moreso than Giffen's more stylized, rushed looking design.

Here, Wildfire tries to find Dawnstar by going to her home planet. He gets the cold shoulder from Dawny's old man, who wants his daughter to marry someone she can at least touch. Which when you're Wildfire, and you're made of anti-energy, a cuddle is out of the question. Still, he flies off to find her while her family shake their heads.

He finds Dawnstar near her namesake, that being the planet Venus. (Apparently, we Earthlings call Venus the 'dawnstar'. And now you know!)He interrupts her looking for a sign of her perfect boyfriend, and they shout at each other. She regrets that she can't touch him, but if she could, then her quest would be over. Then she realizes: Wildfire is her man. Screw all this flying around crap, looking at stars and nebulae.

She flies home and breaks the news to her parents. She even shares that 'the pleasures' she and Wildfire will 'never share' is worth it, because she values his love and friendship. If that bit of overshare wasn't enough, she also hints that maybe she'll get it on with someone else one day, or maybe not. Her parents, we assume,just stared at her.

Another niggly plot line tied up with a bow.

What made this second story more interesting is that Paul Levitz seemed to be pushing himself here, trying to write a more emotional story than you saw in other Legion stories. Take away all the trappings of beings of anti-energy, a Native American girl with wings who can fly through the stars, and the strength of this piece lay with the conversations between two people. Sure, it was cheesy, but was still affecting. While the end of the Computo story was concluded with a wink, this ends with the acceptance of a decision that can only guarantee more pain.

As well, the open acknowledgment of sexual activity was rare in mainstream comics back then, and it was handled here with grace. Compare this with Buffy The Vampire Slayer #34 to see how times change.

Retro Sundays: The Legion of Super-Heroes #310 (April 1984)

This is the issue we've--well, I've been--waiting for all week. The throwdown between Omen and the Legion!

You know the shit is going to fly just from the cover. Clearly, Omen has microwave powers, and he's just getting warmed up!

Get it? A microwave warms things up, and that's what those...

Ahem.

After two issues of the Prophet taking turns wringing his hands about Omen and smacking the Legion around, we finally get to meet His Omen-ness. He seems to be one of those eternal, all-powerful types who just wander around the universe. You know, like Galactus, the Beyonder, and Lady Gaga.

Even though we just saw the Prophet smack Timber Wolf down for trying to kick him in the face--and the Prophet has made it clear Omen is far more powerful than he is-- Ultra Boy tries to punch him in the face. With this level of intelligence, you can tell Brainiac Five must play a lot of chess on his own in the Legion rec-room. (Which I like to think has orange shag carpeting.)

The Khunds are getting very Khundish about the Legion fighting this yellow faced, no-eyed eternal dude, saying this is an 'internal' issue that only Khundia will deal with. My respect for the Khunds' government planning was about to rise, since I don't think any other planet in the UP has a Wandering Eternal Dude policy in place, but no! Turns out Omen is there for a reason, one which the Legion soon discovers.

Turns out the Khunds are making a negaton bomb. Invisble Kid explains that this bomb is the sort that can 'harness the energy of a dimensional hole'. Omen needs that energy, because....well, he just does.

He then knocks the Legion out--except for Dream Girl, whose prophetic power let her know he was going to do that. She doesn't warn anyone else, though, which makes me like her a bit more. She's also at the controls of the negaton bomb, which I assume is because she had another vision that this might be the place to stand. Really, you don't need any other Legionnaires when Dreamy's around, do you? To stop Omen from getting the bomb, she sets it off, saying 'It's been a fun life'.

And that's how the Legion died, saving the universe from Omen. As a final book in the series, this was a shocker. In honor of the Legion, DC never brought them back, saying their deaths should have some form of narrative weight and....no, wait. That's not what happened.

Everyone lives! When the bomb goes off, it sucks Omen and Prophet away--but not the unconscious Legionnaires, oddly. There was a giant vortex when the bomb went off since Dream Girl is seen holding onto dear life to the control board, trying not to go where power hungry eternal wanderers go. I guess the Legion landed on some velcro or something. Maybe the Khunds kept the planet's supply of velcro beside the negaton bomb, just in case something like this happened.

Those Khunds! Always thinking!

But that's not the end of the surprises! In the rubble is the old Invisible Kid--he of the unfortunate headband-- who got blown back into this universe when the bomb went off. So now I'm hoping next issue has a knife fight between the two Invisible Kids, or maybe a street race, with Dream Girl waving the checkered flag. At least a battle of rock/paper/scissors when they're both invisible, just to even out the odds.

London, Ontario: Welcome To The Douchemouth

The question that has been plaguing many of us for years now--Why are there so many douchebags in London?--may have finally been answered.

An ancient text was found buried beneath the asphalt of the parking lot at Clarence and King Street by an unemployed and possibly drunk archo-historian. Entitled The Origin of Douchery by Dr. Alphonse Dulac, ESQ., it appears to lay the blame for London's excessive use of hair product and rampant self aggrandizement at the doorstep of the mystical realms.

According to the text, London was founded atop a swirling morass of douchery called 'The Douchemouth' by the local wizards of the day. Its tendrils have been seeping into the air throughout our fair city like cheap cologne smelling fog, clouding the minds of the weak, making London's inhabitants make appalling fashion and life decisions for over a hundred years. Early manifestations of this douchery include refusing to see any Marx Brothers film because they were 'stupid', refusing to hire Walt Disney as a cartoonist for the London Free Press, and naming parks after Hollywood directors who haven't lived here for twenty years.

Yet now, in 2010, the Douchemouth has reached its apex, drawing terrifying strength from its thousands of willing acolytes. Fed by the self important aura emanating from the local University, the Douchemouth's power has spread to a degree not seen outside of Los Angeles or Rosedale. It has become so bad that even Toronto has begun to limit the number of Londoners who can visit, terrified the incoming douche levels will topple a city already on the verge of a Douche-apocalypse.

The Soldiers of Douche can be known through many means, but these are easy identifiers for those who are uncertain whether the Londoner beside them is a douche.

1. Driving a SUV the size of a small house in Thedford, talking on a cellphone while driving through stop signs.

2. Any woman with a tattoo on right above their spine, most notably if it is in the shape of a bullseye.

3. A complete collection of Nickelback CDs. (Burnt, not actually bought, because only losers buy music.)

4. A bright, red complexion generated by tanning beds and copious amounts of Labatt's Blue.

5. No sign of any books anywhere in their homes.

6. Complete knowledge of all the characters on Jersey Shore and/or The Hills.

7. The use of the following phrases:

a) But you know what?
b) That girl is so hot I would totally roofie her.
c)But I wanted a latte. This is so not a latte.
d)Hey, I got into Business Administration!

8. Having children solely so they can join mommy's support groups and/or because it's what you do.

9. Making those children take violin lessons so they can show off to their friends in the same mommy support groups.

10. An incessant need to be in some form of social interaction at all times.

11. A fondness for any sort of rock music with the 'EZ' prefix.

Many more tell tales do exist, and those concerned that they may indeed be douches are advised to take this highly researched medical quiz.

Those Londoners not affected by the Douchemouth are a hunted species, doing their best to hide their books and ungelled hair from the Croc wearing hordes.

"It's like Night of The Living Dead around here," one woman said, looking furtively around her. "Except these zombies smell like Polo."

"Polo was so last year," a woman in dark sunglasses and alligator skin said nearby, sipping from her Starbucks while texting on her Blackberry.

"Jesus, I didn't even see her!" the woman said, cranking a NPR podcast on her Ipod for as a protection charm before running off into the night.

Retro Sundays: Legion of Super-Heroes # 309 (March 1984)

As I feared, we've hit a vein of LOSH. And we're right back with a crap villain and an even crappier bit of cover word play.

Now let's look at that cover. Look at the ponytail on the bad guy. No one on the Legion has thought of just grabbing that and yanking it? And isn't there an anti-douche law in the future that outlaws that sort of pretentious hair style? No, obviously not. Look at Shadow Lass. She apparently draws in her hair with black crayon.

Right, the story. Just kinda continues on from last issue, surprisingly. The Legion continues to try and punch Prophet Guy, and mostly don't. Even though it's been shown PG is rather cosmicy-powery, Timber Wolf still thinks kicking him the face might work. Oh, Timber Wolf. You fucking idiot.

It finally takes Invisible Kid to figure out the guy's weakness. It's a doozy. Skunk Fro deduces that Prophet doesn't just have red glowing eyes, but that they're actually reflecting the sun. And since Khundia's sun is in permanent eclipse (!), he must be getting his powers from somewhere else. I guess it makes sense if you're French.

So Shadow Lass actually earns her Legion paycheque this week and fires shadows into the guy's eyes, which mess him up. Who knew? By this time, the other Legionnaires have shown up, since the gormless Earth Ambassador who just wanted to hide them in a broom closet has changed his mind. Which is good, since now Omen himself makes his appearance, the bad guy the other bad guy said was coming. Well, now he's here, and he looks like a giant albino mannequin.

But before we move onto the second Legion story in this issue, there were two great ads in this comic. One was for Parker Brothers Arcade Series, which was an attempt to make boardgame versions of popular arcade games. The idea being that when you ran out of quarters, you could go home and keep your Q*bert skillz by playing it with dice. With a picture of gel-haired teen in dark sunglasses and a dog collar, there was this classic text beneath:

"After I spend 5 hours and 40 quarters playing Popeye, Q*bert and Pole Position in the arcades, I split for home. And not to watch some dork show on TV, either. I play more games. I've got the new Parker Brothers Arcade Series. They help me sharpen my strategies. Plus I can play them with all my friends. And beat them. Which is one thing I can't do in the arcades.

So get serious and pick up one of Parker Brothers' Arcade Series board games. Nothing is more totally awesome. Except me."

Beautiful.

The other ad of note was for the Zorcom Spaceship, which promised hours of fun. It was essentially a piece of fibreboard made to look like a spaceship that kids could crawl into. It offered a 'creative place'--meaning you could draw on the inside of it. Illustrated with an astonishing array of space graphics, you could stand it on its base for a play launch into a fantasy stratosphere.

The final story dealt with Karate Kid and Projectra having a honeymoon on some Fantasy Island like world called Luxuris. The art was by Pat Broderick, who must have had an off day. Projectra looks to be about sixty, and it looks she's renting Karate Kid for a little executive retreat action. They flop around on the beach, obviously trying to morph into the Beast With Two Backs, but are interrupted by an assassination attempt.

Turns out Projectra's cousin wants to kill her and Karate Kid for putting him in the slammer, so his brilliant plan is to threaten the horse alien who runs Luxuris to allow him to throw monsters at them. Not wait until the two are heavily involved in digging a rut in the sand and then maybe shooting them with a laser gun. No, he throws monsters at them. This ends in the inevitable confrontation between the evil cousin and Karate Kid, who opts to fight him in his Speedo. Projectra is conveniently knocked out at this point.

Evil Cuz fires a spell at Karate Kid, and either because he's awesome or magic moves real slow in the tropics, he's able to get around the Cuz and have him take the brunt of the spell. This turns him red and yellow, and after the expected threatmaking, he falls down a magic tunnel.

Kid asks Projectra what sort of magic that was, and she says she could care less. Bear in mind Kid's still in his Speedo when she insists she just wants to get on with her honeymoon. So, she was almost killed, her planet almost suffered an overthrow of government, and all she wants is those Speedos off now.

The horse dude is still standing there, with who knows what thoughts or hopes running through his head. I suspect he ran off to cue this up on the hidden palm tree speakers. It was the least he could do, since he was kinda involved in their near murders and stuff.

8 Hours And Temporal Change Into Final Fantasy 13

I like games that make me feel vaguely competent, which is why I'm starting to really like Final Fantasy 13.

The criticisms leveled at this game--that it's too linear, that it takes too long to get going--are all valid, if you come into expecting another version of Final Fantasy 12, or yet another game aimed only at current FF players. While it's nice to feel all smug and cliquey when presented with a game system that only long time fans can make sense of, it will spell commercial death for the series in the long run.

Yes, there are a clutter of tutorials popping up quite a bit in the early hours. The option is there to skip them, but I've run each one because of my failing memory and the need to get every bit of gameplay out of something I've purchased. While the game techniques haven't changed that much, it was still fun to refresh my memory and see what new things have been added. While some FF fans may slap their hands to their faces in horror, I don't fully remember how to activate gestalt mode--in all truth, I had forgotten what it was. (Shriek!)

But even with the handholding and constant appearance of virtual blackboards and 'How To's, the visual beauty of the game makes up for any impatience you may experience. The eye-candy of the gameplay itself would have been only seen in cutscenes a few years ago, and as for the cutscenes themselves? Some of the cinematics are on a level with Cameron's Avatar for thrills. There is a scene (don't worry, no spoilers) that can be best described as the spaceship chase through Coruscant we really should have seen in the Star Wars prequels. It's just wonderful stuff.

The story is the same FF story we've seen before--(evil government forces with ulterior motive vs. our ragtag team of rebels, all fighting for their own reasons-- slapped with a fresh coat of obscure terms that mean nothing at first but then slowly make sense as events play out. As with most FF games, the world seems overpowering at first, almost too alien, but it all becomes clear as the plot threads weave together. Again, it's extremely emo and angsty, but that's what Final Fantasy does. You don't pick up a My Chemical Romance album and be disappointed because it's not Billy Bragg (at least, I hope you don't), so don't expect Final Fantasy to suddenly deliver the kitchen sink realism of a Mike Leigh film. Everyone here is pretty, doesn't get dirty, doesn't have to shower, and experience every emotion with a heartfelt purity most people lose after they turn 15.

There are also a lot of sunsets for people to look heroically into. There are also helpful winds to play character's hair around their faces to add that oh-so important follicular touch to their moments of deep contemplation.

Some of the characters can be irritating, but that's nothing new to the series. Vanille is the worst offender, being all perky kawaii optimism that really grates. She also runs like an idiot. Hope, a mopey 12 year old, also calls out for a Skip button. To the writers' credit, no one else seems able to stand him, either.

But what I'm enjoying most is the battle system. It starts so easy in the early going (just press Auto Battle!) that I felt like I was cheating the game by not setting up actions for each character. (There is that option, but you soon learn it's rather pointless. And since each battle is ranked by how long you take to finish it, it eats up precious seconds.) But around the four hour mark, the battle system expands to a Paradigm Shift mode. This is where the fighting becomes fun. When I finish a battle and get a five star rating, I start to feel that maybe, just maybe, I am a competent video game player. If there was a sunset available, I'd go stare into it.



Essentially, this is how it works:

Instead of just leveling up your character on one path like most RPGs, FF 13 allows you to level up on various roles. The initial choices are Commando, Ravager, Medic, and Synergist. Each Paradigm Shift is defined by what role each character takes within it. So in a Shift called Relentless Assault, everyone would assume combat roles like Commando and Ravager. If you're getting your ass handed to you, you pick a Shift that has a character take on a Medic role, casting Cure spells on the others while they focus on direct combat. Each Shift has the character's roles already set (so the heroine Lighting could be a Commando in one, a Medic in another, and so on), so you don't have to mess around with physically assigning them their role.

You quickly learn, though, that you can't just pick a Shift and sit back. As the combat becomes more complex, you have to leap from Shift to Shift, trying to determine what the best plan of attack will be. With each Shift being accompanied by a bright light show, exciting music, and of course, all out crazy ass fighting, it's quite a ride. When you die--and you do, often--the game offers you a Retry, starting you right back at the battle. Now, you can try different Shifts, seeing which works on what monster.

And then there's gestalt mode, but I'll talk about that later.

So those are my thoughts so far. And I'm sure no-one on the Net has written about this game, so I guess I'm the first!