Thumbstruck

Building on Success

2011-07-04T12:44:00.001-04:00

The Supreme Court's decision last week to overturn California's violent video game law was a huge success for the games industry and First Amendment proponents. However, I can't feel like the purity of our message has been lost in the celebration that has followed. The video games industry is far from perfect, and there are many legitimate reasons to be concerned about kids (and even adults) playing violent games. Just because I don't think California should be deciding what's too violent and what isn't doesn't mean I don't think they're right to be concerned. In MediaPost's Gaming Insider I said I hope our industry builds on this victory, instead of sitting back now that we feel safe. Read it, and let me know what you think!

Ready for Social

2011-06-21T01:22:00.001-04:00

If there was one thing that every major developer and platform provider at E3 agreed on this year (and there were many things on which they did not agree), it was that they simply could not ignore the emerging possibilities offered by social networks anymore.

This admission is an important first step for the video game industry, currently roughly divided into companies that are DTF ("down to Facebook") and those that ain't. The current state of things is really sad because it limits the marketplace in artificial ways - there are not many options out there right now for the Street Fighter IV player who likes finding matchmaking opportunities with his Facebook friends, nor are there many ways for me to share my Halo 3 user videos to a place where people are actually going to see them. I can't tweet comments about my favorite user-generated Portal 2 levels as I play them because the Steam community is very averse to the idea of the invasion of external social networks, which incidentally is the same reason that popular "casual" destinations like Pogo and Big Fish Games avoid Facebook like the plague, for fear that their change-averse communities will rise up against them.

But why all this fear? Are we as gamers all really so limited in our world view, despite comprising such a large and diverse portion of the world's population? Do we really lack the collective clarity of judgment to realize that just because 99% of the games currently using Facebook's platform are imitations of one cleverly designed farming game in their marketing tactics, business model, and simple gameplay, that their simple connection to the Facebook platform makes them so? Are we truly so blind to the diversity of games already available on Xbox Live, Steam, and on the iPhone that we believe a game's mere use of a social networking API could actually communicate anything meaningful about its quality or substance?

I'd like to think, "no," but so far my experience is that many gamers and internet-savvy users, aware of the popularity and success of Facebook and of the amount of "real information" it asks of its users, are loathe to accept any implementation of its API in their games, no matter how harmless, option, or beneficial, and that's extremely disappointing, because it limits my options. I'll have to save my diatribe about internet privacy for another post, but I completely agree with anyone that doesn't think Facebook should be a mandatory component of a game that could be played without it (i.e., most games, including the ones in the top 10 apps on Facebook). I'll be the first to tell anyone considering opening a Facebook account to take a long hard look at their Terms of Use, their privacy settings, and their track record, and make an informed decision about how they do and don't use the service. And I'm not a big proponent of the perceivable desperation baked into any game that has access to your news feed. But I do feel the opportunities for good far outweigh the potential downsides.

Fact: Facebook currently has over 500 million users. If you live in the United States or one of the many other countries with a high adoption rate for the site, then you are more likely to have friends using Facebook than any other social network, including AIM, Steam, Battle.net, Meebo, Myspace, Xbox Live, Playstation Network, GameCenter, Twitter, Second Life, Flickr, LiveJournal, or your bizarrely-specific-to-your-cultural-nice online dating site.

All of that being said, here is my hypothetical evidence to support my theory that the [transparent, optional, secure, game-appropriate] use of social networks like Facebook can only make our favorite games better.

Super Mario Galaxy 2: "Super Guide Ghosts"

I just finished playing Super Mario Galaxy 2 (at least, the "first quest") and loved the game to pieces. Here's a game more challenging than its predecessor, yet more accessible than ever before - a wonderful example of smart game design that's fun for players of all types. The game has a few very clever built-in hint systems, one of which Nintendo likes to refer to as the "Super Guide." This is an in-game movie that will play through a level for you if you're stuck - letting you intervene when you feel comfortable taking the reigns again. The game also has a "co-star" mode where a second player can take on a helping role as an in-game pointer for collecting items, stunning enemies, and pointing out secrets.

What if I was stuck on a level, and the Super Guide was able to tell me that I have 5 friends with this game, 4 of whom have all beaten this level already? I can select my friend Andrew, and the game will download a 'ghost data' file of his playthrough. In seconds, I'm following a jump-for-jump copy of Andrew's path through the level, missteps and all. When I'm done, I'm able to send him a one-up as a thank you for sharing his play-through data with me, and Andrew's rating as a Super Mario Galaxy 2 Super Guide increases, meaning others are more likely to select his play-throughs later. Andrew might even take it upon himself to make his play-throughs completely public, and gain such a reputation that his user profile becomes the de facto replacement for the Super Mario Galaxy 2 GameFAQs page.

Furthermore, when I see him later that week, I can tell him that not only did I beat the level, but I also caught a glimpse of his trouble avoiding fireballs - something I'm sure he'd be quick to defend.

Portal 2: Co-Op
Did I say Portal 2 Co-op? Let me re-phrase that. I meant "Steam."

I'm sick of having four Steam friends, despite my overwhelming confidence that I know more than four people using the service. Steam has so many great tools for players and developers - great communication tools (chat, messages, groups), a great client and storefront - but Steam is not a dedicated social network. It exists for a fringe purpose (gaming) and because of that it's never going to be as frequent a stop for casual gamers and fringe gamers (like many of my friends) as a site like Facebook.

If Steam had a Facebook app with a decent adoption rate, however, I'd have a lot more real Steam friends. I'd know the instant one of my friends started playing Portal 2 and I'd be able to be the first one to swoop in and offer to walk them through the first few levels of co-op. I'd see that girl I knew in high school that I thought I had nothing in common with, who actually has more achievements than me in my obscure indie puzzle game, and I'd consider reconnecting (and asking what she thought of the game).

Moreover, I'd have an achievement for every friend that wrote "Spaaaaace." as their status at some point in the last two months. But then again, maybe that's what the nay-sayers are worried about.

Grand Theft Auto IV: my wildcard idea
I figured it would be fun to come up with something really out-there for my last suggestion. Here goes!

Fans of Rockstar's pioneering, envelope-pushing Grand Theft Auto IV (can you tell I'm one of them?) often cite the in-game television as one of its brightest spots - a trivial bit of detail that goes a long way toward building the world (and being hilarious satire).

Picture playing GTA IV while connected to the internet, when all of a sudden, you walk past a TV in a storefront playing a news story with an image of your friend Garrett on the screen:

Newscaster: Police say they are still on the lookout for their suspect, who they believe could still be hiding in the vicinity. Witnesses are encouraged to call a toll-free number if they have any information, for a reward of up to $200,000.

You recognize Garrett's Facebook picture instantly, of course. You know that Garrett must have caused some serious mayhem in his game in order to rack up that kind of bounty on his head - and you also know he'd turn you in in a heartbeat. You dial the in-game number and correctly select Garrett from a multiple-choice list of friends. Your character is rewarded in-game money, while Garrett's is fined. But Garrett's informants tell him you were the rat, and now you're a marked man - good luck next time you need a favor from that guy.

Looking Forward
Consoles and "hardcore" gaming have a long way to go towards acceptance of the "social networking" trend, but I'm confident that someday we'll all be used to the idea enough to be accepting of the good ideas and shielded from the bad. All it takes is a little bit of imagination on our part (the players!) to see that there's good there (and to understand the nature of the potential evils) so that we can protect our interests and seek out new experiences. I'm excited to rat out my friends in GTA and count my "Spaaaaaace"-related statuses. I just hope everyone else gets excited soon, too.

If you think I've said something worth repeating, try Re-Tweeting! I'm DTF, too - share a link to this post and get a discussion going in the comments!

What's on the 21st Century Tube

2011-06-18T02:17:00.001-04:00

Disclaimer: The title of this post contains an anachronism. You've been warned!

In April I said I wanted to play more games. My last game purchase was Portal 2 (a great investment), but I told myself I wasn't allowed to spend another penny on games until I had completed that game and at least nine others to some level of satisfaction. This gave me a goal, some pressure to play quickly, and would theoretically help me tick a few boxes off on my long list of "games to play."

Well, it turns out that I have great timing! Two weeks ago I moved into Queens (bye bye, Jersey, though my heart belongs to you). When my father learned that Lori and I were saving money by not signing up for a cable TV bill, he reminisced about the days before cable TV and said, "Wow, so you're living in the 70's, huh?" I pointed to the piles and piles of games and DVDs, and though the irony was apparent, I had to drive it home:

"No, dad, this is the 21st century - I pay for my internet bill and Netflix, and I have my games. I don't need cable!"

But really, what's been my go-to source of entertainment after work, now that I don't have 100 channels of 24-hour entertainment? Games, of course! Games that might have previously seemed like too large a time investment this late at night, or too alienating for the other people in the room - now, games are my nightly pastime, and that just feels right.

The move also means I'm closer to work, which means a shorter commute (bye bye, bus! I never really loved you!), which means my gaming balance has shifted from being all mobile games on my DS, to weigh much more heavily on couch-gaming on my Wii. Change is good!

Now that I'm more than halfway through, I'm afraid what happens at 10! Most likely I slip right back into my old habits of compulsively picking up cheap used games at a faster rate than I can play them - but maybe, just maybe, I'll be playing a little more often than before. We'll see!

6/10 games complete.
4 games to go before I can buy games again.

Play More Games

2011-04-26T23:44:00.041-04:00

I was this close to starting a new Final Fantasy VII file the other day! Thiiiiiis close. Why? Because of this excellent series of open letters between gaming bloggers Leigh Alexander and Kirk Hamilton, chronicling the former's obsession with the game and the latter's recent introduction to it. I defy anyone to read and not let nostalgia get the better of them.

That being said, I have "a thing" about replaying single-player narrative games. Since I fancy myself a connoisseur (full disclosure: spellcheck helped me out on that word) of the interactive arts, I have it in my head that I need to be constantly broadening my pallet, so to speak. Of course there's nothing wrong with replaying games, and in fact games in their purest form are meant to be re-played. Still, I think there's something to be said for trying new things.

In the last two years I have taken to buying used games at a rate that far exceeds my capacity to play them. I'm not really averse to playing decade-old games for the first time (this year I've played and finished Metal Gear Solid 2, Chrono Trigger, and Metroid Zero Mission, amongst others), so after my recent purchase of Portal 2 I set a temporary rule for myself:

I'm not allowed to buy another game until I beat ten games that I own but haven't beaten before.

I'm willing to be flexible, of course, since some games don't focus on their "completed state" (i.e. Rock Band 3) and others perhaps have unrealistic goals for theirs (i.e. Pokemon Black). That being said, I need some help sorting through the stockpile of games I've amassed. That's where you come in! Help me choose games! See anything that sets off a wave of nostalgia? Want to play through any of these alongside me? Let me know!

In no particular order, the list of games I own that I should probably play:

Left 4 Dead 2
StarCraft
Braid
Machinarium (pictured)
StarFox: Command
Final Fantasy Tactics A2: Grimoire of the Rift
Gish
Aurora

Magicka
Monday Night Combat (pictured)
Cortex Command
Osmos
World of Goo
Penumbra
Aquaria
Lugaru

Ben There, Dan That!
Time, Gentlemen, Please!
Revenge of the Titans
Rayman (pictured)
Chrono Cross
Elder Scrolls - Daggerfall
Nier
Okami

Monte Python and the Holy Grail
The Darkness
Deus Ex
Eternal Darkness (pictured)
Dragon Quest VII: Journey of the Cursed King
Shadow of the Colossus
Link's Crossbow Training
Psychonauts

The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass
Skies of Arcadia Legends
Rayman 2: The Great Escape
Banjo-Tooie
Star Wars Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy
Red Dead Redemption (pictured)
Rock Band 3
Borderlands

NBA Jam
Starfox
Baten Kaitos
XIII
Viewtiful Joe (pictured)
Lost Odyssey
Super Mario Galaxy 2
Fallout 3

Lego Indiana Jones
Dragon Quest IV: Chapters of the Chosen
Retro Game Challenge (pictured)
Breath of Fire II
Zack and Wiki: The Quest for Barbaros' Treasure
Tales of Symphonia
Golden Sun: The Lost Age
The Legend of Zelda
Zelda II: The Adventure of Link
Sonic & Knuckles

I completed Portal 2's single-player campaign (excellent! great fun) and I'm looking forward to the rest of the co-op. That will be game one of ten!

Sharing Content with Social Relevance

2011-04-26T00:03:00.001-04:00

A few months ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to write an editorial series that was published on GameZebo, a casual games review site. The series was called "Core and Casual: What are We Talking About?" (click the link to read part 1).

Well, I'm at it again! This time, I'm tackling the issue of sharing from games to the 'outside world,' generally through social networks like Facebook or specialized gaming networks like Xbox Live. There's an interesting rift right now in what is generally referred to as the "gaming industry" - a small part of the audience is very accustomed to social network games that contain many prompts to post stories about your in-game accomplishments for your friends to see. The rest of the gaming public tends to look upon this practice as a degradation of the sanctity of games, even while the games they play grow more and more "social" (if you need proof, read the comments on Kotaku regarding Valve boss Gabe Newell's recent statement that all of Valve's games will be multiplayer in the future).

I hope having a bit more of a balanced, thoughtful consideration for the benefits of social sharing in games might at least enlighten game designers and players to the opportunities that await them. At the same time, any thinking about the topic should also serve as a warning to those who would abuse the powers social networks bring: namely, those that end up creating games that feel like they're trying to get something out of you instead of giving you something.

You can read the full article on GameZebo. Of course, thoughtful comments and criticisms are always appreciated!

My Existential Crisis

2011-04-07T15:52:00.001-04:00

I was corrupted at an early age by the agents of a dark and powerful force, and for the better part of two decades this force has festered in my soul and grown stronger. Its tendrils reach my brain and re-route logical thought. Its nourishment feeds my body and makes me dependent on it. But two weeks ago, I confronted my own inner Nintendo Fanboy, and I think I may have won.

Consider that the only Nintendo system I have never owned is the Virtual Boy, and that I would gladly trade a week's meals for one, if you can name your price (e-mail me!). Or that I've been present, cash-in-hand, for the day-one launch of the Game Boy Advance, the GameCube, the DS, and the Wii. That my man-child poster wall gives Zelda more real estate than Lord of the Rings (a nerd amongst nerds?) and that my senses detect SNES cartridges on thrift store shelves as readily as most people notice loose cash lying on the sidewalk.

It seems within reason that I'd be picking up the Nintendo 3DS - Nintendo's newest handheld, a significant upgrade to their DS line that can play newer, better games and features a stereoscopic 3D screen (think Avatar) without the need for 3D glasses (and it's awesome!). Indeed, that was my plan.

But I chickened out! Or at least, that's how I first described the decision to not spend my money quite yet. Sure, it has its flaws, the launch lineup of games is terrible, some of its online features won't activate until May, and they're likely to release a new model or drop the price by the holidays, but I knew all that before this weekend. So did I chicken out? Did my miserly attitude hold me back?

My crisis wasn't in deciding whether or not to get the 3DS - the moment that seed of doubt was in my mind, the crisis became whether or not to acknowledge that it was right. I should not buy the 3DS at launch, because I might end up deciding that I don't want it. My crisis was acknowledging that there might be better options out there, a thought that terrified my Inner Nintendo Fanboy. He raged against that thought, but the instant it formed, there was no going back.

I fought and I won, but with questions still lingering ... will I eventually pick one up? Should I hold out for the NGP? Is it finally time to cough up for a smartphone that I can game on?

I suppose time will tell.

Casual or Core: What are We Talking About?

2010-12-18T15:30:00.001-05:00

I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to write a series of opinion pieces that went up on Gamezebo, a casual games review site with an industry-friendly focus. I encourage you to please check them out and leave comments if I've said anything worth responding to or disagreeing with. The links to all four parts are below as well as a selection from part I. Thanks readers!

The games industry has a dirty secret. We hold press conferences and give keynote speeches, put up billboards in Times Square and displays in 7-Elevens. On stage, online, and in every message that reaches public ears, we declare our steadfast dedication to making “core” games, or announce our bold decision to explore “casual” games. Yet in reality this is a dishonest message because every good game creator knows that there has never been a successful game that was either exclusively “core” or exclusively “casual.”

The problem stems from the popular notion that there are two discrete groups of people in the world: casual gamers and core gamers. When someone loosely refers to “casual gamers,” we all smile and nod our heads as though we know the specific group of people they’re talking about. Still, like all labels used to define large groups of people, this system quickly breaks down. At a recent press event, Microsoft caused many of its loyal fans to feel betrayed and alienated, largely due to a few misguided statements that relied heavily on this assumed difference between “core” and “casual” players. More on that later.

Surely, though, there must be some inherent truth to the core/casual divide that makes it so easy to grasp. The first solution is to stop assuming that the world is in black and white – if the original Game Boy could produce two additional shades of gray, then surely people and gamers must come in a few more. If we cease thinking of casual/core as a binary trait, and picture our players as existing on a number line somewhere between casual and core, we can pat ourselves on the back for not dealing in stereotypes, and we get a mental image like this...

Part 1: Core and Casual: What Are We Talking About?
Part 2: Initiation: Ever Played This Game?
Part 3: Taste: Everyone's a Critic
Part 4: My Kind of Gamer

New Thumbstruck posts are coming soon!

Something New

2010-08-24T23:33:00.000-04:00

Six months ago, I began a post that I never finished, as school ramped up and my time to tend to this blog disappeared. Until I have time to write my first post in a long time, here's the beginning of that unfinished draft, the promised follow-up to my first post on New Super Mario Bros. Wii:

Very soon I'll have no more challenges to complete in New Super Mario Bros. Wii, and realizations like that are always bittersweet. Two nights ago I completed the last level in World 8, having collected every secret coin leading up to that point, which unlocks another eight levels to play. When I'm done with those, I'll have "completed" the game, and won't touch it again until the next time one of my friends sees the distinctive red case on my shelf and asks if they can try it out. When they do, I'm almost certain I'll say yes.

About a week later, I did complete that game - although I can't take all the credit, as I played it from start to finish in cooperation with a rotating cast of friends including my three amazing roommates. Without turning this post into the lengthy review that it was originally intended to be, let me just say that my experience with NSMBW was pure gaming joy the whole way through. The game managed to scratch three strong itches at once:

Nostalgia for my childhood days playing the Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario World games with my brother, taking turns but essentially playing together, trying to get past tough levels and find new shortcuts,
Obsessive-compulsive completion checklists, since each level has three hidden coins that somehow convinced me they all NEEDED to be found,
And the joy of cooperative play, especially in a large group. Here I could share those first two aspects of my experience with my friends. Here co-op was not a separate part of the game but had all of the great hooks that the "main game" possessed - every one of my co-adventurers, by the time we were done, were determined to 100% the game, even while fighting over who got the Penguin Suit.

Needless to say few games have ever come close to checking this many boxes for me and there isn't likely to be another for quite a while. But I have to say I'm quite thankful that I had the chance to share that experience with my friends and roommates while the opportunity presented itself. Though six months have past and I'm currently enjoying other games, including Super Mario Galaxy 2, I'm not likely to supplant those memories any time soon.

Secrets of Game Design from 1985

2010-02-16T07:10:00.000-05:00

Game developers recognize the value in making their games more accessible to new players. By presenting a game's challenges in a way that does not assume the user has any prior experience, a game designer greatly expands the potential audience for his or her game. Of course, taken too far this can cause a game to suffer from a lack of depth, and it won't to appeal to experienced gamers. Luckily, there's New Super Mario Bros. Wii - a beacon of hope for those who believe in Nintendo's "everyone's a gamer" philosophy, and a fantastic experience for veteran gamers. It's unfair to give all the credit to Nintendo's most recent entry in the series, however, since so much of its appeal (and content) is derived from a series nearly 30 years in the making. Today's post is not about the "New", therefore, but about the old.

It seems to me that the Martians must have deposited the Super Mario Bros. series on Earth in the 1980s as a guide for humanity to design their games by. Modern science may refute it, but the evidence is there. In 1985, Super Mario Bros. provided a fantastic experience for the casual gamer; the interface was simple, the challenges clear. Most importantly, however, it could be played as a game and as a toy - a point I'll get to later.

Point A to Point B
The interface on the Nintendo Entertainment System controller consisted of the + shaped control pad and four face buttons. Two of these buttons were "Start" and "Select" and were easy to ignore. The other two big, round, action buttons were "A" and "B". For someone completely new to gaming, even a simple control scheme like this one can be tough to manage at first, but in Mario, learning how to run and hop your way to victory is all muscle memory. A player can play the first level a few times, jumping between blocks, pits, and goombas, and they will begin to automatically hold "B" to run through the entire level just as a driver instinctively maintains speed with their foot on the gas pedal.

All interfaces have some kind of learning curve, but instead of pausing the game to explain each new move, Mario lets the player discover moves as they need them. In the first level, the player discovers that pushing the control pad in a direction (to the left or right) intuitively moves Mario in that direction. They will likely also discover that pushing up and down does nothing. Furthermore, they find that they can barely walk to the left before hitting an invisible wall; walking to the right, however, pans the camera to reveal more of the game world. The player has immediately learned the first lesson of Mario: you must get from Point A to Point B, and Point B is always some distance to the right of Point A. This means the player now has an objective! They've discovered that moving to the right reveals some interesting game world to them, and their interest is piqued as to where and how this game world ends. As they continue to the right, the world scrolls past like a tape on a reel. And he or she has discovered all of this just by pushing the control pad a few times.

A slow-moving player will pass a hill and a bush in the background, before encountering their first "foreground" elements: a floating "?" block, and a Goomba approaching them on the ground. When the Goomba inevitably collides with the player, he or she learns their second lesson: some things can touch and kill Mario! When they do, the player's progress toward their goal (reach the end of the level) is reset, and they realize they get only get a few tries. All of this is communicated to the player through actions, visuals, and sound.

The next time the player comes back, they know they need to reach the end of the world WITHOUT touching a Goomba. But how? Obviously, this is how the player learns to jump (if they haven't already tried the jump button). In doing so they're likely to accidentally hit their head on a question mark block, and within seconds the game has taught the player (almost) everything there is to know about Mario: run, jump, avoid death, get coins and power-ups, and try to reach the end of the level.

It's possible to know very little about the game and complete its first stage (try playing World 1-1 by keeping "right" pressed down on the directional pad and only using the "A" button). A novice player with only superficial knowledge of the game's interface can achieve success after a few tries. And since the game starts at this level every time (save features didn't quite exist yet), every newcomer to the game is likely to start right here, even if they're playing with a person who's reached World 8 before.

Toy Plumber
Of course, the player wouldn't keep playing to learn these goals and to master the interface needed to achieve them if it wasn't fun. The brilliance of Super Mario Bros. has always been that it is a fun toy in addition to a great game. A player could play World 1-1 dozens of times, repeatedly failing and starting over, and still enjoy themselves. Why? For one thing, Mario is a joy to control. He responds to player input exactly as the player expects, and he performs acrobatic feats cartoonishly disproportionate to his stocky figure. Furthermore, every motion Mario makes is accompanied with sound effects that almost seem to congratulate the player. Again, take the time to play World 1-1 for a few moments, and make sure the volume is up. Pay close attention to each sound effect, and think of each of them as a congratulations:

"Good job, you jumped!"
"You got a coin!"
"Hey, you landed on a Goomba!"
"You smashed a block!", etc.

Nearly every desirable action in the game has an accompanying sound effect. Just playing with the physics of the game world and discovering all that there is to do is fun as a result.

This kind of play without goals, which is fun simply because it brings us joy to test our abilities, is like playing with a really fun toy. If you think back to your first board games, you probably found the physical act of moving the pieces like toys around the board more fun than actually following the rules of the game (a fact which probably frustrated your parents). In checkers, jumping a piece can be fun just for the satisfaction of slamming your own piece down on the other side of your opponent's. The fun you once had jumping checkers may have paved the way for your appreciation of the game's rules and strategy. A player's skill and reasons for enjoying Super Mario Bros. progress the same way.

It's possible that the only thing I've convinced you of is that games are only fun when they let you jump on or over things to kill them. Whatever the case may be, I hope you'll make your thoughts heard in the comments section. Soon I'll be sharing my thoughts on how New Super Mario Bros. Wii appeals to people seeking a challenge without rejecting newcomers. I hope you'll find it interesting whether or not you've played the game.

World, Meet Melton Hayes

2010-02-14T23:43:00.000-05:00

Melton Hayes is only eighteen years old, and has spent the last few years of his life working in the kitchen of a small local pub. Melton's always been an unremarkable kid, mostly unnoticed by the salt-miners that frequent the pub at the end of the work day, but he cooks good food and always comes in on time. His only worthwhile education has been on-the-job, and while he's not particularly strong he's developed the charm and cunning needed to navigate the volatile social climate of the slums of Crymar, the Jewel of the Eight Cities.
It was only recently that an intoxicated veteran general took notice of Melton's more subtle peculiarities - his handiness with a cutting knife, his intuition with flavor, and his keen understanding of differences in taste. Melton didn't quite know it himself yet, but what Riurik and his band of adventurers-for-hire recognized then was that the boy was gifted, touched by forces of nature unknown to most men, and was destined for greatness.

By the way, I'm playing Dungeons and Dragons for the first time. And the inspiration and lessons in game design that this has granted me have sent me back to Thumbstruck. Hopefully this means frequent, worthwhile posts. I hope you'll join me!

Now, it's time to go discover more about my mysterious connection to the arcane world of the Feywild.

Time Trials

2009-10-03T20:24:00.010-04:00

One doesn't often encounter the words "Time Attack" in video games anymore. A time trial mode just wouldn't carry the same heft as "Campaign," "Co-Op," or "Stage Creator" on game's main menu these days, and that's probably for the best. I am glad, however, that the concept of time trials hasn't been lost completely, but instead integrated into modern games in new ways. Super Mario Galaxy let players attempt speed-runs on certain levels for stars, for instance, and 2008's Prince of Persia included an Achievement for finishing the game's story in less than 12 hours. As another example, I have been known obsess a bit over the incremental improvements I make with each failed attempt in Super Smash Bros. Brawl's Events mode.

I'm currently enrolled in the second-to-last semester of my undergraduate education, and in many ways it feels like a race against time. In the last few months, I've found that the way I pursue life goals has an analogue in the relationship between video games and players.

I know it's not a perfect analogy, but humor me for a moment. Like games, my college career:

...is segmented into episodes, with each episode requiring me to learn from the episode before it while adding a new layer of complexity or challenge
...has given me many "second chances," offering a chance to try, fail, and try again.
...presents me with a wide variety of potential experiences, leaving me to interpret what tasks I must complete and how to measure my own success.

Most significant here is that last point. Of course I'm hoping to pass all my classes with a decent GPA, but beyond that there are so many ways that my peers and I measure success, some of which are unique to me and my personal goals.

Just as each person has their own goals in real life, they also have their own ways of approaching games. Over a year ago, Mitch Krpata outlined a working set of terms for a "New Taxonomy of Gamers" on his blog, Insult Swordfighting. In this series of articles, he suggested that some players play games as "tourists," experiencing the content that the game has to offer and being done with it. Others, he said, are "completists," trying to unlock every secret and finish every challenge for a 100% completion rating. (Note: Krpata's essays cover a lot more ground than what is summarized here, and I highly recommend giving them your attention.)

If different types of gamers can all approach the same game (a popular example: Rock Band) and find their own reasons to enjoy it, then the strength of that game is not in its challenge or the amount of content it presents. The game imposes nothing on its player, instead allowing them to play game designer and determine what the goals are and when they have "won." Open-ended games like The Sims push this concept in obvious ways, but even a traditional linear RPG can allow its player some degree of freedom by including side-quests or multiple endings. These games present a system to the player, and allow the player to project their own goals within the framework they provide. Just as I've discovered my own goals (and means of pursuing them) through the experiences I've been fortunate to have, a player discovers what they hope to achieve in a game, and then works to rise to their own self-imposed challenge.

This analogy might help next time I feel stressed about my workload. After all, if the tasks before me are anything similar to the challenges in games, I can rest easy knowing that even if I don't complete them before the clock reaches zero, the experience was worth it - if only for the fun I had trying.

Dreaming Big

2009-08-28T13:20:00.002-04:00

Quick update: I haven't had internet at my house for the past two weeks. But the technicians are coming to get us all hooked up tomorrow afternoon, at which point Thumbstruck should be back to its regularly-scheduled programming.

Since the Vintage Game Club is done with Majora's Mask, I'll probably only make one more post on the subject, not to drag things out.

School has started back up and the semester is in full swing. I'm working on getting my research project organized, as well as a very interesting class about using robotics and game-like video interfaces to convey information like a conductor to an orchestra.

Lastly, my peers and I are dreaming big about the upcoming series of independent game festivals we're hoping to enter. I'm sure as we get more organized and actually make progress that I'll have more to say on the subject.

Check back in a few days!

Bomber's Notebook, Part 2 - The Ticking Clock

2009-08-04T20:35:00.007-04:00

In my previous post, I detailed the first chapter of Link's adventures through time in The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask. Here's chapter 2! For more discussion about this game (from a lot of interesting people), check out The Vintage Game Club.

Since the game's core mechanic revolves around the three-day time limit, it goes without saying that time is an ever-present factor in Majora's Mask. Its predecessor, Ocarina of Time, focused on the protagonist's journey seven years into the future, and the stark contrast between the whimsical world of his childhood and the dark realities of his adulthood. The game required Link to travel through time to save the world. A few puzzles required him to travel back in time and "change the past" (an illusion of some cleverly scripted events). In this case, "time" empowered and enabled Link.

In Majora's Mask, time is an inhibitor. Link can manipulate time in this game just as he could in Ocarina, but he does so only to put off the inevitable. Instead of leaping forward in time to cheat his way into a life he shouldn't be experiencing yet, Link loops time to avoid a near-future he knows is coming and desperately wants to avoid. He has to make as much progress as he can within the three-day time limit in order to reach a preservable milestone, i.e. defeating a boss or learning a song. A countdown clock resides at the bottom of the screen, always reminding the player of the world's impending doom. Time is not on Link's side, and the limitations it imposes can sometimes feel crippling.

This point is evident in how many complaints the game receives for its time limit. Plenty of games make use of timers: Super Mario Bros. limits how many seconds you have per level, for instance, and Oregon Trail counted the days down before winter came, drastically reducing the player's chance of survival. Pikmin's brilliantly inspired design suffered as a result of a 30-"day" time limit to complete the story, a complaint rectified in the sequel. Majora's Mask, similarly, has frustrated many experienced gamers with the limits imposed by its three-day cycle. Each cycle requires some planning on the player's part to ensure that they make efficient use of their time and get all of their goals accomplished.

At the VGC we've talked about how progress in the game is not measured by changes made to the world, but by information Link has learned and the tools he has collected. Link regains his human form, and a slew of new opportunities open up in Clock Town: most importantly, he is allowed to go out beyond the city walls. In the Southern Swamp, it's easy for Link to get lost - that is, until he purchases a map from Tingle. It might take Link a long time to make it to Woodfall Temple, as well, but once he knows the Song of Awakening and the Song of Soaring, getting there is quick and painless. Lastly, the puzzles in Woodfall Temple are on the easier side, but no one's perfect, and it's possible that while the ground is shaking and the clock tower is chiming on The Third Day, the player is still only halfway through the dungeon. That's okay! They can just re-set time, armed with the knowledge they need to breeze through the dungeon at twice the speed they did the first time (I learned this first hand, as my Wii froze after four hours of play - I covered the same ground in less than half the time afterward).

Contrast this with Ocarina's formula for progress, which saves incremental changes to the environment - a door has been unlocked, a mini-boss has been defeated, a treasure chest has been opened. In that game, Link can save whenever he likes; in Majora's Mask, he can only save his personal progress by undoing all the progressive changes he's made to the game world. I can't help but wonder if this unique design suffers from having dungeons that too closely match the formula laid out in Ocarina; after all, a dungeon is only worth the challenge of mastering its puzzles. If any one dungeon had more replay value, the game could capitalize on its own penchant for forcing the player to repeat familiar tasks. Luckily, this philosophy is carried out in the side-quests of the Bomber's Notebook - an aspect of the game I hope to talk about soon.

As Link, I defeated Odolwa, the evil spirit trapping the swamp's guardian giant, and saved the Monkeys and the Deku Scrubs from their various minor perils. They thanked me, but a wise Deku Scrub noted that they can't shake the feeling things are still about to go quite wrong. They're correct, of course - that moon isn't stopping itself. A few in-game hours and a dozen unsuccessful races later, the Deku butler finally yielded and told me I remind him of his son - a boy whose soul I now possess in mask form. These are problems future and past, but only I seem to be fully aware of them, as the rest of Termina is stuck in its three-day bubble. I, as Link, have the burden of being able to see past this bubble in either direction, and the power to act on what I see. In that way, I am alone - my only company is Tatl the fairy, and the ever-present ticking clock.

Three-Day Cycles: 3 (5 total)
Accomplishments: Learned two songs; earned three masks; defeated Odolwa at Woodfall Temple; completed first Spider House; got some pieces of heart and notebook entries; restored second Great Fairy and learned the magic Spin Attack; and got the Hero's Bow, Pictograph Box, and Magic Beans.

Bomber's Notebook, Part 1 - New Kid in Town

2009-07-28T00:35:00.009-04:00

For the past few weeks, The Vintage Game Club has been playing through and discussing The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask. If you're not familiar with the Vintage Game Club yet, take a moment to click the link and catch up on some of the most interesting discussion surrounding games going on right now. (A more competent introduction to the club can be found at co-founder Michael Abbott's blog, The Brainy Gamer). I find it amazing how this group can get me looking at a game I've already played five or six times before in a completely new light.

In order to set this play-through apart from my other save files and foster some critical thinking, I began the game considering the chain of events from Link's point of view. Early in the game, the player is given The Bomber's Notebook, an important item that embodies one of the key mechanisms for navigating Majora's Mask's unique plot structure. Whenever Link encounters an NPC that needs assistance, the who, what, where, and when is recorded in the Bomber's Notebook, and as the player progresses in the game they begin to fill the notebook with a detailed itinerary for the inhabitants of Clock Town and the surrounding world. Instead of the player needing to take notes manually, they can consult the Bomber's Notebook if they need to track down a particular character to complete a side-quest.

The game takes place over the course of three days, at which point a scary-looking moon crashes into Clock Town, destroying the world. Link escapes by traveling back in time to the start of the three days, repeating this cycle ad nauseum until he has collected the tools and information necessary to stop the apocalypse. The notebook takes on a role here, too - since all of Link's good deeds are reset when he travels back in time, he is left with only the stickers in his notebook as a lasting sign of his generosity. Link can't help everyone on every day (unless the player is feeling particularly ambitious), but he can console himself - and remind himself he isn't crazy - by consulting the permanent record in the notebook.

For the next week or so I'll be playing Majora's Mask, updating here and at the VGC's forum for the play-through, putting together a sort of Bomber's Notebook of my own. I believe that organizing the information presented by the game in this way will give me a new angle to observe the game from, and I hope to have some more interesting things to say in the future.

Three-Day Cycles: 2
Accomplishments: Started quest; restored first Great Fairy and got Magic meter; recovered Ocarina of Time; learned two songs; turned human again; got 3 masks including Deku Scrub Mask; got Adult Wallet, Bomber's Notebook, Bomb Bag, and 4 Pieces of Heart; and met 8 people in Bomber's Notebook.

Once You Go Gamer

2009-07-22T21:38:00.011-04:00

There is a billboard near Penn Station advertising Verizon Mobile's new "app store." The images may be hard to see above, but nearly half of the "apps" being advertised are games - Prince of Persia, LIFE, Tetris, Guitar Hero, etc. Many people see this billboard: men and women, college students and baby boomers, fast food employees and professional athletes.

Down the block there's another billboard, showcasing a handful of games available on the iPhone and iPod Touch. One block in the other direction, there is a particularly gaudy two-story GameStop. And tomorrow, just a short walk away, Time Square's Military Island is being taken over by Nintendo to promote the release of Wii Sports Resort with a tropical-island themed "beach party." As I considered these facts, one after the other, on my way home yesterday, I caught myself silently celebrating a small victory for this great pastime called gaming.

Then I stopped myself, remembering that nearly every facet of our diverse culture manages to find a home in New York City. I remembered that there are actually a few games downloaded on my mother's iPhone - but she's never played any of them, and I or my sister or brother put them there.

Still, I couldn't help my wishful thinking. Maybe it's all the marketing getting to me, or my recently increased exposure to online gaming portals that reach the newer portions of the expanding gaming audience, but I couldn't help myself, and I formulated a very unscientific hypothesis in my head:

Within five years from now, my mother will be a gamer.

My father? Well, I'll give Dad ten years. He doesn't have the iPhone in his pocket quite yet.

When I got home, my dad - a computer scientist who is currently pursuing post-graduate studies in history - asked me a question out of innocent curiosity. He asked if they make games about the factors contributing to various global conflicts throughout history. Not wanting to waste a fine example of divine providence, I did my best to hide my enthusiasm while I attempted to explain the differences between the Civilization series and the Total War games. I offered up my review of a Gettysburg game I once played in high school, and mentioned the recently-announced project by a Norfolk University professor to make a game about the Underground Railroad (Source: Kotaku). Then I stopped myself from scaring him off with too much information, figuring Google and Wikipedia could handle the rest.

My father was just asking a simple question, of course, and it probably doesn't mean anything... or maybe, my future children are going to look forward to playing video games with Grandpa.

Hmm... I may have gone too far with that last bit. Here's a fun diversion that I encourage you all to try: choose three people in your life that don't play games - even if one of them is you! Now, pick the three games that you think could actually engage them enough to bring them back for more. Let me know what you come up with in the comments.

Asteroids for the Internet Age

2009-07-22T00:41:00.004-04:00

A long time ago, in an age nearly forgotten, teenagers cashed in large bills for pocketfuls of quarters, and dedicated themselves to hours of chasing high scores and challenging each other to impromptu tests of skill in Space Invaders. Space Invaders turned to Street Fighter. And while the past two sentences have been a gross oversimplification of the history of arcade culture, this much is true: it's 2009, and arcades have all but died out.

In the span of a few generations of home consoles and PC hardware, gaming audiences and game designers alike discovered the joys of saved progress, 40-hour campaign modes, and separate multiplayer modes for 2-4 players. Recently, however, the design philosophies behind some of the greatest arcade gaming experiences of the past have been making a comeback in the last few years. I'm not the first person to notice, but this never felt so real and so obvious to me until this week.

Aegis Wing is a free download on Xbox Live Arcade, and is a very old-school-inspired side-scrolling shooter. This game has 6 levels but encourages re-plays in multiplayer and on multiple difficulty settings. Upon beating the game in 2-player mode on Normal difficulty, I'm rewarded with the "Hero" Achievement, but this leads me to the discovery of Achievements still far out of my reach: Achievements for doubling my current high score, or for beating the game on Insane difficulty. The last time I listened to a game when it told me to "try again on a harder difficulty" was in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles IV: Turtles in Time. I have to say I was surprised how effective the tactic was. Needless to say, I will be spending my week losing lives in Aegis Wing while I chase Achievements.

In the arcades of yore, High Score tables let you show off your accomplishments to your peers. However, back then, your victory was tied to a mere set of initials. Today, my Achievements and Gamerscore are tied to my Gamertag which links to this web site, my e-mail address, and all of the other games I've played. I take my place in global leaderboards, and the game informs me of my current rank when compared with all of my other friends who have played it. My Facebook profile automatically posts an update whenever I gain an Achievement, expanding the circulation of information beyond those already interested in the game. In other words, it's really easy for me to show off, and it's really easy for me to get competitive.

Gamasutra recently published an interview with Gareth Davis, Platform Manager at Facebook, which covered a lot of ground (and is well worth the read!). Most interesting to me is a concept I've had a lot of exposure to over the past few weeks, the notion that "social gaming" can be applied to any game to make it more valuable an experience for the player. Those leaderboards, achievements, and Facebook updates make games goal-oriented, competitive, and social, even when playing them alone. I normally wouldn't think twice about my end-of-level score, but every time I sign into Facebook, Aegis Wing taunts me with the possibility of beating my own best - or one of my friends'.

The fascinating thing is that despite the fact that this is all the result of "social gaming," I haven't once mentioned an actual interaction with other people as a result of these updates. Naturally, these interactions exist - I played the game in two-player mode, and my Xbox leaderboards inform me that I have two Xbox Live friends with this game with scores for me to beat - but they aren't necessary for the experience to feel worthwhile. It's enough just for the Xbox to pull up an Achievements Comparison list, or for my Facebook to remind me of the remaining challenges to be faced, and I end up perceiving my gaming experience as being more valuable and entertaining than it would have been without these features.

I suppose this all just sounds like I'm finally experiencing the kind of Achievements-addiction that every Xbox owner started feeling a few years ago, so I apologize for being so late to the game. I feel this is all noteworthy, though, because I didn't originally hold high hopes for Aegis Wing, a game I downloaded because a friend told me it was free. Yet somehow this game has managed to make me feel like a kid in an arcade again.

Looking on the Bright Side

2009-07-10T01:59:00.011-04:00

I have a confession to make: I love my commute.

I may be cheating: I'm only traveling into the city Monday through Thursday. Perhaps it's Friday that crushes one's soul. Or, perhaps there's still a bit of novelty attached to what is certainly a very new daily routine for me. Whatever the case may be, however, the status quo is such: Every morning at 8 AM I pay three dollars for parking, and another two for a bagel, never having woken up in time to make myself breakfast. I wait about fifteen minutes for a New Jersey Transit train to arrive. I'm not alone, of course; a woman stands far back from the platform so that she doesn't blow smoke in anyone's face. A young guy who doesn't sound like he speaks English tries to decipher the train schedule. I'm enjoying my bagel, with butter.

Everyone piles on board and a somber game ensues: thirty seconds later, scores of dejected early-risers walk the aisles of the train, looking for a stranger that doesn't look too fat or too dirty to sit next to. I take a seat next to someone kind enough not to look like they want to kill me.

And as the train starts gaining momentum on its route to New York City, with a full work day ahead of me and with my two hour (combined round-trip) commute in mind, I smile, and I turn on my DS.

God bless the public transportation system.

So, now that I have an extremely busy schedule and loads of responsibilities, I actually have more time to dedicate to gaming! I've been thinking about giving The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass another chance once of these days; my first try at it didn't get very far and was frustrating. I'm looking forward to trying out some portable games I've never had a chance to try, as well - and I'm open to suggestions!

Can anyone out there relate to the joy I am feeling at the thought of spending two hours a day on the train? Or is this, perhaps, a result of some sheltered naïveté that I am soon to grow out of? Share your thoughts in the comments!

One last thing: if anyone is interested, Bethesda recently released The Elder Scrolls II: Daggerfall as a free download on the Elder Scrolls web site (source: Kotaku). The Elder Scrolls: Arena has also been available there for free for some time now. If you're interested in something a little more modern, however, you may be delighted to hear that hot on the heels of the announcement of a new MechWarrior game, MechWarrior 4 and all of its expansions will be released for free, at the BattleTech and MekTek.net web sites, sometime soon (source: Kotaku).

Enjoy some free gaming courtesy of the wonders of infinite supply and sporadic demand! And help me out in my search for some good commute games.

Image courtesy of JanneM (Flickr).

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Digital Remakes

2009-06-29T15:33:00.012-04:00

Remakes are a part of the market, for better or for worse. But aside from remakes that take "retro classics" and update them for current hardware and production values, we're also used to a second kind of remake - the kind that takes a "traditional" game based in the real world, and turns it into a digital game: one with the interface, features, and conventions of other digital games. We usually don't think of them this way, but after all, isn't Madden a sort of "remake" of American football? (More accurately, I'd say Madden is a remake of the game surrounding the NFL - but I'll save that for another post). Just as younger audiences will see Transformers 2, The Taking of Pelham 123, Land of the Lost, GI Joe, and Star Trek this summer without knowing they're "remakes" in one way or another, I'm sure there's more than a handful of kids out there playing Solitaire on their Windows computer without ever having played it with a real deck of cards. They might play a "re-made" version of Texas Hold'em, which lets you play online, with fake money, and a customized avatar. I'm sure you can think of at least one game you've played digitally that has a real world counterpart.

This week I played Battle Chess on the NES for the first time since a vaguely remembered day from my childhood. I'm tempted to say that this game has not aged well, but the truth is that it was never very good to begin with. Battle Chess is based on a basic idea - Chess could be more fun if, like in the famous scene from Star Wars, the pieces killed each other after you finished your moves. Each attacker-defender combination has a "fight" animation that lets you watch your Pawns get jabbed by other Pawns, and watch as your Rook transforms into a golem and squashes your opponent's Knight. The animation's are okay, although obviously a gimmick. With this change alone, the age-old game of chess might have been slightly improved; at the very least, the novelty of the death scenes might have made for a few rounds of entertainment.

Notice, I said "might." It's shocking how boring Battle Chess can be. Each piece walks across the board in the slowest way possible. If you move your Knight, and any pieces are in its way, it will pause while they walk out of its path. The game's title screen offers no options and dumps the player directly into round 1 of a game of Chess - players with an instruction manual, of course, will discover that the Select button allows them to select AI and multiplayer options.

Still, you'd think that one of the first games in the world to be computerized would be easy to make enjoyable in digital form. It makes one wonder why we bother playing computerized versions of games we can already play in real life - Chess, capture-the-flag, baseball, fetch with a pet dog - but this question has many answers. I'm sure many players who enjoy baseball video games might find a game of "real" baseball too inaccessible or difficult to enjoy. Continuing with that example, "real" baseball requires a field, more than a handful of players (eighteen if you're a stickler), and specialized equipment. Video game baseball can be played alone or with complete strangers that are in their own living rooms, and it can be played using the same equipment as video game Chess and video game capture-the-flag.

Please take not that I'm not arguing "video game baseball is better than baseball." A statement like that might turn my family against me, and even so much as comparing the two experiences would be a vast oversimplification of the nature of each game. Every example I offered above has a counter-example - to a group of kids growing up on the same block, a bat, ball, and backyard are much cheaper and "more accessible" than a console, TV, and Internet connection. My father had my whole childhood to teach me to play baseball (and bless him, he tried), but it would probably take me the rest of my life to explain an Xbox 360 controller to him.

To me, it seems the lesson learned is that some games are "re-made" as digital games and end up being very different experiences, baseball included. Some games, such as Chess, are made into digital games, and yet the experience is nearly the same. And any "remake" is bound to be compared to the original if it doesn't manage to break new ground on its own, whether the game being re-made is Chess, baseball, or Super Mario Bros. I'm suggesting that that's why we tend not to think of Solitaire for Windows, with its "the boss is coming, minimize the window!" button and all, as a remake.

I just hope that future civilizations don't plug in a dust-covered copy of Battle Chess and wonder, "What part of this was fun?"

Thought for Food

2009-06-14T14:39:00.007-04:00

Games that tell stories borrow a lot from movies (and other forms of storytelling that precede them). Many people have even criticized the games industry's inability to escape the traditions, conventions, and vocabulary of the movie industry, but that is not what this post is about. I want to talk about the stuff that movie directors have that game designers still haven't stolen from them, but should. I'm talking, of course, about food.

Food fulfills one of our basic needs as living organisms. The way we acquire, prepare, and eat our food is usually deeply ingrained in our personal and cultural identities. We eat food for a myriad of reasons: nutrition, celebration, religious practice, and so on. We grab some munchies when we sit down to watch a movie or play a video game. And we see the characters in film and television do the same.

The point is, we (almost) never see game characters eat food. Sure, Mario may chase mushrooms, but it's not because of the peculiar tastes of Mushroom Kingdom cuisine. Game characters, generally, only do "amazing" things - they leap tall buildings, fly spaceships, dual-wield plasma rifles - but they never take the time to sleep, eat, etc. When they do, it's always for utilitarian reasons, and so the joy of finding a mushroom stems from its usefulness as a power-up, and doesn't resonate on an emotional level.

Storytellers in other media have long realized the strength of food as a symbol and as a plot device. In Peter Jackson's take on The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, the viewer is treated to a disturbing scene (pictured above) in which the Steward of Gondor demonstrates his penchant for at least of a few of the seven deadly sins while scarfing down a private feast in the presence of his timid but loyal servant. In contrast, in the early minutes of Disney's Aladdin, the titular character sings a three-minute piece of musical plot exposition explaining that he "steals only what [he] can't afford." It is not until just after this scene, however, when most viewers really connect with the character; Aladdin is about to celebrate by eating his half of the loot - a loaf of bread, his meal for the day - when he encounters two young children more in need than he is. He gives them the bread and the gratitude they show is something anyone watching can relate with.

As a storytelling device, food can show us that a person is greedy and hedonistic, impoverished and hungry, or good-natured and generous. What a character eats and how they eat it can be a window into their personality and personal history, and make them seem that much more human. So why is it that more game characters don't do us a favor and take a lunch break?

Speaking My Language

2009-06-12T16:14:00.006-04:00

I just finished the first chapter of The Atoms of Language: The Mind's Hidden Rules of Grammar, written by Mark C. Baker and published by Basic Books. The book follows Baker's dissection of the human notion of "language" and asserts that all world languages are composed of the same theoretical building blocks. This idea doesn't originate from Baker but it's certainly relatively new in the study of linguistics, and he's done an excellent job (as far as an Introduction and one chapter can demonstrate) so far disseminating his ideas in an entertaining and readable way.

I'm not a linguistics person, but I guess I'm used to dealing with "the abstract" in computer science. Still, I was worried this book might be too over my head for me to get through. I'm not yet claiming its material is entirely within my mental grasp, but the obscure trivia and fun facts peppered throughout the text keep it relevant and entertaining. Did you know the Navajo people have more than ten verbs for "to carry," depending on the type of object the person is carrying?

Fun facts, aside, however, my main reason for reading this book is in preparation for the research I'll be doing in the Fall semester in Natural Language Processing; if you're not familiar with the term, you must not be a computer science nerd. NLP is a fascinating topic that deals with the problem of getting a computer to understand, interpret, and "speak" a human language such as English. If you've ever laughed at a free online translator or been frustrated by a search engine's inability to understand what exactly you're looking for, then you are an unknowing proponent of NLP research.

I'm partly interested in NLP due to its natural implications for games. Façade, Michael Mateas and Andrew Stern's "one-act interactive drama," is an excellent piece of non-linear storytelling that makes use of this technology. Peter Molyneux's recently-unveiled tech demo for "Milo," a virtual boy who interacts with the player via Microsoft's Project Natal, looks to combine NLP with other technologies for a "life-like" experience. Even much simpler games could lend themselves to this technology - a game like 5th Cell's upcoming Scribblenauts, combined with a C-3PO-like understanding of human language, could open up a lot of exciting possibilities.

Time to reign it in, though. After all, I'm only up to Chapter 2: In Which the Ambitions and Dreams of a Young Game Designer are Crushed by the Harsh Truths of Reality.

Can you think of any other experiences in your own life that would be aided by this technology? Feedback and discussion are welcome and encouraged in the comments.

The Start of Something Productive

2009-05-19T22:13:00.005-04:00

This summer is my last summer in a lot of ways. At least, it is the last "summer break" that I'll get. That means it's my last chance to be lazy, last chance to sleep in, and last chance to have fun.

Maybe I'm being a little over-dramatic.

The point is, I've decided to make this a summer of firsts, instead. I'm going to try to gather as many new gaming experiences as I can this summer. Many of them will be games from genres, time periods, and systems that I'd never ordinarily seek out. I still have one year of undergraduate studies left, but I'm making my first step into the real world right now, with this blog. This is the first time I've truly made my thoughts, my efforts, and my aspirations public. The first first in my summer of firsts (couldn't help myself!) is this: the first post of my summer project, Thumbstruck.

I haven't sorted out the list of games yet. I don't even really know what I'm going to write about. I just know that I'm going to try to broaden my horizons and get myself thinking about games and game design in ways that I haven't before. It'll be a learning experience, and hopefully you'll find it to be one worth reading about.

I'm open to suggestions; if anyone has a game they think I should play (or any other ideas), leave a comment or e-mail me. If not, though, I'll be back soon with a plan and some more interesting things to say.

- Vin