Mulling things over in a Press of Words, and something with Gamasutra

This post is just to inform those who read this that there is now a WordPress version of this blog (it can be found at http://mullingoverthemultiverse.wordpress.com/ and my username there is JPLC). It will be similar to the LiveJournal version in that it will have the same content as this one, essentially acting as just a mirror (except maybe in rare occasions). One day, I may choose just one place to mull over the multiverse from, but as of now I do it from three locations: here, LiveJournal, and (once again) WordPress. However, as of writing this, I still consider the Blogger location (here) to be the primary location. Take that as you will.

Also, in an unrelated matter, in my previous post (the one about console video game archival), I stated that I had also posted it on gaming news site Gamasutra in my free Member Blog. Well, it seems that it was a wise thing for me to do: the post netted me a lifetime subscription to Gamasutra's sister publication, Game Developer Magazine! You see, every week the Gamasutra staff collects stand-out Member Blogs of that week and makes a post about it (this week's post can be found here). Out of the ones they choose, though, only one is selected as their favourite, and to the person who wrote that post they give the aforementioned subscription. In this week's case, mine is apparently the favourite! I am deeply grateful and I am looking forward to receiving my first issue; it has been quite some time since I've had a subscription to a gaming magazine.

So, yeah, this is basically just a "state-of-the-blog" post. The next one should be actually about something (whenever I decide to post). Stay tuned...?

Building the future and keeping the past alive are one and the same thing.

In the video game industry, much time and effort is put toward new ventures. Whether this means merely a new instalment of a franchise, an entirely new IP, or the next console/graphics card down the road, the industry tends to keep its gaze future-bound. At least, this is how it seems to one presently outside of the industry (like myself). While the future is definitely important, it should not stand without acknowledging its history. In this case, "history" meaning "older video games". Essentially, I am saying that before going too far forward, it would be wise to archive old games.

Before going further, it would be wise to establish what I mean by "archival". In this case, I am not referring to mere records of the existence of past games and consoles. I am also not referring to the matter of actually archiving physical copies of games and their respective consoles (although this is a very important endeavour). No, in this case I mean digital archival: the digital preservation of games and consoles via the process of emulation (I am staying out of the concept of PC game archival due to my lack of knowledge on the subject). Also, I propose that these emulated games and consoles be made public for the average consumer.

Granted, the concept of digital emulations of games and consoles is nothing new. ROM downloads and the like have been available online illegally for years now. While some may claim that these illegal methods* are good enough for archival, I beg to differ. What I propose is legal emulation of old games and consoles, something which is still in a state of infancy.

Nintendo was the first to support the idea of legal emulation for console games with their introduction of the Virtual Console. It allows consumers to purchase and play digital copies of older games for older consoles (like Super Mario Bros. for the NES). Sony has a similar system in place with their PSOne Classics available on the PlayStation Network, and Microsoft has made some Xbox Originals available for download over the Xbox LIVE Marketplace. While all of these initiatives are good starts, they still have some major caveats in terms of acting as archival systems.

Firstly, each system only seems concerned with their "Greatest Hits", so to speak. Sure, one will be able to find nearly all of Mario's earlier titles in the Virtual Console, for example, but niche/unknown games are generally left at the wayside. It's understandable why this is done, though; more money is likely to be made with hits, and it would be financially unwise to keep games around that do not necessarily sell. Still, it's disheartening to see that a vast multitude of old games (including even some of the greats) are not being preserved for future generations, especially since their being digital makes it much easier to archive than it would a physical product. Server space may cost money, but it could hold digital copies of all video games ever made easily; the illegal emulation websites can attest to that.

Secondly, these systems are generally updated at very sluggish paces. At least in North America, the Virtual Console, for example, usually only dishes out one game a week (sometimes not releasing anything at all, and very rarely releasing multiple titles). Sony's PSOne Classics, in recent times, has a somewhat better track record of releasing usually two PS1 games a week (although there are weeks sometimes where only one or none are released). The Xbox Classics, lastly, do not seem to be updated at all anymore, standing still at 29 games in North America. Now, while the Japanese counterparts for the Virtual Console and PSOne Classics seem to generally fare better with more releases a week, the systems are still lagging far behind the number of titles that can be found online illegally in an instant. (This is especially evident in the case of Sony; they are a full console behind with their digital offerings since they seem to be shying away from PS2 emulation on the PS3 at the moment. Hopefully that changes in time.)

Thirdly, only home consoles seem to be the focus of these systems. Sony has changed this trend somewhat in recent times by making some of their older UMD titles available via the PlayStation Network now that the PSP go lacks a UMD drive. Nintendo, however, despite the successes of the various iterations of Game Boy, has yet to release a handheld Virtual Console equivalent now that the DSi has sufficient memory capability and an online presence. This may change in the future, though, so this complaint may be somewhat premature, but the fact that DSi Ware cannot be transferred between DSi handhelds does not bode well for such a system.


Which leads to my final complaint: these systems have some holes in regard to purchasing these old titles. While most purchases are tied to their respective systems' accounts (e.g.: Xbox LIVE accounts, PlayStation Network accounts), they are still limited to a certain number of downloads for certain things, and as stated before, transferring these purchases to replacement consoles can sometimes be a hassle (if not impossible). Granted, this is due to the industry's rightful want to avoid any piracy, but it does not bode well. This may become especially troublesome when the next generation of consoles arrives; will PSOne Classics purchased on a PS3 be transferable to a PS4, for example? One can only hope that these digital purchases are "future-proof". Then again, gamers are used to having to re-purchase back catalogues of games, so the industry may not see a need to keep this compatibility. For the sake of archival, though, it would be wise for them to do.

Solving all of these problems will not necessarily be easy (especially in the case of the ownership of the digital purchases), but it can be done. This becomes especially evident when focus is put once again on the illegal emulation scene. Vast catalogues of ROMs and ISOs have been collected by enthusiasts and hobbyists, and consoles have been emulated by people who have never worked on the originals. If this amount of progress can be made by those outside of the "Big Three" (Nintendo, Sony, and Microsoft), it is only reasonable to assume that more progress can be made from within. For example, a stable PS2 emulator would probably be much easier to develop from within Sony than from without.

But this all leads up to an interesting question: do the Big Three really care about preserving older titles? After all, old games go out of print rather quickly and yet the Big Three still make money with their newer titles. What incentive would they have for archival?

It's a good question. Some may say that good money can be made from the sale of older games, but that may merely be a drop in the bucket. Really, I don't think the Big Three really care about archival. It is my hope, however, that game developers themselves care and will persuade the Big Three to be interested. I would expect that many game developers would only support game archival, just like how most writers would support the preservation of old literary works and film makers the preservation of old film. History is important in any field, and being able to experience that history first-hand is invaluable. Being able to play an old title trumps any write-up describing it. Granted, my emulation proposal does not replicate the entire experience of playing a real old game on a real old console, but it is much better than having nothing at all.

Essentially, I suppose I'm saying that people will be emulating games illegally anyway. If we want to curb this piracy, why don't we just make a legal alternative for those who would be interested? It would be naive to assume every pirate would convert, but it would probably convert some, and maybe it would deter some of the future piracy of our past titles.

After all, how can we stand on the shoulders of giants if the majority of the giants are lost to history?

*I understand that emulation of a console, in some cases, can be legal by itself and that the illegality lies more in the ROMs and ISOs themselves. I refer to the emulation as illegal in this article, though, to illustrate the differences between the emulation solutions made by the Big Three and the emulation solutions made by the public.

(This post can also be found on Gamasutra at my free Member Blog.)

Creative Curveballs: Cowboy Bebop: You're gonna carry that weight

(This is the first installment of Creative Curveballs, a series that will examine and applaud works of fiction that depict the unexpectedness of reality. As stated last post, this will be spoiler-ridden. Also, it assumes the reader knows the piece in question to avoid too much explanation. You have been warned. If you don't know the piece in question, though, the following may still be worth your time. Maybe.)

The crew of the Bebop, from left to right: Jet, Spike, Faye, Ed, and Ein

Cowboy Bebop was a classic sci-fi anime of the 1990s. The show, despite being Japanese, had a western flavour to it: the episodes were, for the most part, self-contained like in North American animation, and the music was rife with blues and jazz (specifically, the titular "bebop"). As such, Cowboy Bebop's fandom tends to encapsulate not only die-hard anime fans, but people who usually don't like the genre.

It was with this knowledge that I wanted expose my younger brother to the show. He is very much aware of my love for anime (and, more cringingly, my love for cheesy J-Pop), but he has never been too interested by it. However, we usually have very similar tastes on a number of other things, and I was curious to see if Bebop would jive with him. After much delay, I finally got him to sit down and watch the 26 episode series and the movie that followed. The results were what I had hoped: he had enjoyed it.

Something interesting came up, though, while we discussed the show's end -- or more specifically, Spike's final decision to take on his former crime syndicate after the death of Julia. My brother was disappointed by Spike's last actions. He noticed that throughout the series, Spike was very focused on the present (despite his occasional run-ins with his former life), and would even dissuade others from living in the past (Faye in particular). Thus, Spike's choice to knowingly end it all in a battle with his past was something that seemed beneath him. Spike knew better.

The reason I bring all of this up is to illustrate that Cowboy Bebop is a show that depicts the unexpectedness of reality. The show throws a curveball, and asks the audience to deal with it.

Now, I agree with my brother. By all intents and purposes, Spike should have realized that his actions would prove nothing, and they would most definitely not bring Julia back. He ignored his own advice, and death was his repercussion. It was his punishment for being out of character. But was he really?

We learn from Spike's final exchange with Faye (taking place just before he goes to fight the syndicate for the last time) that he lost an eye in the past and that he now has a robotic replacement (something which the show had hinted at previously). Spike claimed that, after the operation, one eye always saw the past with the other seeing the present. He was thus unsure if he was really alive, or if reality was a dream passing before him (this, in my interpretation, makes the assumption that Spike was unsure he survived "faking" his death when he left the syndicate years ago). This information, metaphorical or not, changed the idea of who Spike was. In an instant, his laid-back attitude was altered from being merely how he was to a possible coping mehcanism for his "dream-state".

Spike's eye disparity is only rarely made visible. During this scene is one of those times.

Faye herself was taken off guard by the revelation:

"Don't tell me things like that... You never told me anything about yourself! Don't tell me stuff like that now!"

She even goes as far as to tell Spike of her own run-ins with her past, which she had, until recently, no recollection of:

"My... memory came back. But... nothing good came out of it. There was no place for me to return to..."

It wasn't long before she got straight to the point:

"Are you telling me you're going to just throw your life away!?"

In turn, Spike responded:

"I'm not going there to die. I'm going there to see if I really am alive."

I include the above excerpts because I think they hone in exactly at my point. In the exchange, Faye embodies the mindset of the viewer, one which cannot accept the incongruity of Spike's choice with the way he had been presented up to this point. The audience may now know Spike's reasons, but it still does not seem to fit. The audience, sitting upon the expectation of knowing the ins and outs of things as they occur, is thrown, just as they would be in real life. Human beings rarely know all sides of an event, let alone what someone's true person and motives are. Cowboy Bebop recognizes this, and decides to use its main character as the vehicle for this aspect of reality.

Now, to be fair, the series does hint at Spike's deeper bonds with his past throughout the series -- especially when he encounters the syndicate -- but he still tended to look forward rather than back. The point still remains that his death was wholly avoidable, and as such Cowboy Bebop is a great tragedy. Sure, the series is on the whole an action-comedy, but there is always that twinge of sorrow, culminated in the last two episodes. And it was real in a way many works of fiction aren't. We did not wholly expect or agree with Spike's decision, but he went through with it anyway. He was not forced to do what he did, he chose it. And that's the most real thing of all, in a sense. Humanity will never act in pure logic all the time. Like it or not, it is an important aspect of life, one that should not be excluded from fiction.

(Some blog-notes: being inspired by a certain Chocolate Hammer, I'm going to be a bit more lax with this blog in terms of content. If I feel like writing, I will write here, regardless of whether I have an "essay" or not. I've been neglecting this thing for too long. As such, my next two installments of Creative Curveballs may be interrupted by other posts, but I see that as a good thing. In short, I will still write "essays", but I will also just write if I feel like writing. That is all.)

Creative Curveballs: An Introduction

We expect a lot from narrative. Aside from sheer entertainment and the relaying of tales, we usually expect to get a solid grasp on what's going on in a particular piece. We expect to be able to look things over in the end and say, "well, this happened because of this, this, and this". In essence, we expect to be shown enough angles of a story from various points of view so that we may make sense of it all. This expectation, while craved by nearly all, is however not realistic.

It is not my intention to say that all narrative must be realistic. Far from it, narratives should be of anything and everything, bound by nothing but what the author chooses. My intention, thus, is to say that narratives should be allowed to be realistic in the case of audience expectations.

This may seem a trivial statement to make, but it is not uncommon to hear negative claims akin to "well that came out of nowhere" in reference to narrative. While in some cases this can be a justified statement to make for one reason or another, my argument is geared towards the times that merely mimic reality. In other words, I am coming out in defense of depicting the curveballs life can throw every now and again. Life is not a neat and tidy ball that is easy to understand, and one human will never realistically know all the aspects of a single event.

Thus, I feel it is important to celebrate works that lob a curveball every once and a while, those that play with the concept of the unexpected. As such, I am dedicating my next three blog posts to the following works: the animes Cowboy Bebop and Neon Genesis Evangelion, and the PlayStation 2 video game Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty. These works have been discussed time and again by various people, but I wish to explore my own thoughts on them in the writings to come. It will also give me an excuse to post more on this blog (which I apologize for not doing).

So, prepare for the first installment (of three) of Creative Curveballs some time in the future. I don't have an exact schedule for this thing, but I hope to kick it off relatively soon. And who knows, this may become a re-occurring segment with more works. Or not. Only time will tell.

(Oh, and as a warning, the future posts on this subject will be rife with spoilers. You have been warned).

Why the goal should be "Engaging", not just "Fun".

"Fun" and its relationship to games is a topic that has been discussed ad nauseam, and probably by people more educated and eloquent than myself. Even so, I feel I must contribute my own opinion on the matter. Take the following as you will.

As the title of this post states, I believe that aiming for "fun" in the game industry is the wrong way to go. I understand this may seem a strange statement to make. To clarify, then, I think that "fun" is too low of a goal to aim for. I posit, instead, that we aim for "engaging". Before I go any further, however, I should state the definitions I am using for fun and engaging.

Firstly, I am using the word "fun" to describe something as enjoyable or amusing. "Engaging", then, is being used in this case to describe something that holds or attracts one's attention, or something that is engrossing. These definitions are not extremely different from one another, but the difference is important. The difference, in my eyes, is that fun is merely a subset of engaging. Alternatively, a way for a piece to be engaging to someone is for it to be fun.

Most expressive endeavours (books, movies, television, visual arts, etc) dabble in a wide range of subsets of engaging, but games – aside from a few exceptions – seem to focus primarily on fun. A simple example of this would be Tetris, a game that can engage players for hours on end with naught but fun in the form of a puzzle of falling blocks. A not-as-apparent example would be a game like Bioshock which, despite its heavy message, still strives for its gameplay to be fun – dispatching foes is another puzzle to be conquered. Fun is a brilliant subset of engaging, and it is one of the most effective of the subsets, but there are others to choose from. It would be wise to define and exemplify some of the other subsets before moving on, though.

There are many ways to make an expressive endeavour engaging. As previously stated, one of the ways is fun. Another way is to be abstract. Examples of this would be abstract arts, whether they be visual, literary, or otherwise. Some of these pieces would never be classified as fun or beautiful, but they still manage to engage, even if the number of people engaged is not as great (a number of Andy Warhol's works could fall into this category).

Another way to engage is via beauty. Examples of beauty are bounteous and are visible in both nature and the realm of the artificial (from roses to paintings to people). Beauty is not necessarily fun either in some cases (witnessing a sunset is beautiful, but the act probably wouldn't be described as fun, much like the sunset itself), but it engages.

Yet another subset of engaging would be unsettling. I use the term in this case to be an umbrella that spans from concepts of horror to pieces that aren't necessarily frightening in the same sense, but still terrible. When a piece is effectively unsettling, one can become transfixed without necessarily desiring it. An obvious example of this would be a horror movie that gets screams, chills spines, and raises adrenaline. In this case, the unsettling visuals get one's blood flowing. There are however, cases of unsettling visuals that are just as engaging, but do not elicit the same biological highs. These cases are the primal opposites of fun, but are still thoroughly engaging. These are cases where one cannot look away, despite all urges to do so.

Despite the fact that there are more subsets of engaging to speak of, it is these specific unsettling things I wish to discuss the most. This is due to the fact that I think they are really the farthest things from fun one can get, but they are still engaging. A specific example of a piece that uses this unsettling factor is the film version of Requiem for a Dream (some spoilers may follow, be warned). It is a film that examines the lives of a group of addicts, whether they are addicted to physical desires, unattainable ideals, or both. Near the end of the film, there is a scene in which one of them undergoes electroconvulsive therapy due to a deteriorating mental state. This scene is highly unsettling as the viewer has witnessed this person's downfall, and must endure the sight of this person writhing in pain over and over again. This scene is by no means visually appealing or fun to watch. It is essentially visual torture, at least for myself. I have stated many times to those I know that I never want to see that scene again, but when I first saw it, I could not look away. Despite these negative feelings, I do not regard the scene as something that should never be experienced. The film is an excellent warning about going over the edge in more ways than one, and I highly respect that it did not pull any punches in depicting the terror of it. It was entirely engaging and worthwhile, but it was in no way fun.

To some, this idea may seem to be a turn off. This is an understandable viewpoint to have. But in my opinion, the opposite end of the spectrum of engagement is just as important as the end games are most comfortable with. I do not mean to say, however, that no games have ever tried to reach for types of engagement beyond fun. Examples that spring to mind are the Mu Training in Mother 2/Earthbound, the final boss battles of the games in the Mother/Earthbound series, and the Arsenal Gear sequence in Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty (things that better people than I have gone into vast detail with). All of these examples use gameplay to express something that is not fun, but it still engages the player. Even more examples exist, of course, but the point I am trying to make is that the ratio of engagement is heavily skewed to fun when it comes to games, and it should not necessarily be so.

In the end, I suppose I am championing the idea of more variety in games. There is room enough for fun games, unsettling games, beautiful games, games that combine subsets, etc. I have heard too many people discuss the "right" way to make games. I posit that there is no "right" way. As long as the player is interested in playing, the game's existence is justified. The player's engagement is all that matters, and there are many more ways to engage than just by fun, as ridiculous as that may sound to some.

Before I end, I know that this will probably stir up a "games as art" debate. I am under the belief that anything can be art (and as such, “art” is a bit of a bogus term), so please do not condense this idea into another "pro-art" or "anti-art" stance. I merely wish for much more variety in the world of video games, and for more experiences that engage in ways other than just fun (especially in the non-indie game scene). Fun is all well and good, but it is most definitely not all there is, nor is it all that there has to be.

End rant. I hope I made sense.

(This post was initially made for Gamasutra and my free Member Blog there, but I am also posting it here due to my abhorrent lack of posts. My computer’s all nice and fixed now, so let’s hope I make some more posts in the near future!)

If it ain't broke, it soon will be. Also, House meets Haddaway.

Yes, I am still alive, despite what you may have suspected. It seems my initial promise of more blog posts during the summer was heard by the gods of digital destruction, and they appear to want to toy with me for as long as they can.

Y'see, my Internet has recently been very, very screwy. Disconnections and the like abound, creating chaos and havoc everywhere. On top of this, my laptop's monitor has decided to stop functioning. It may just be the screen, or it may be a video card issue. Either way, it is presently unusable, and it will have to be taken to someone for a fix (I'm using my brother's laptop to punch out this post). These problems will make timely posting very unlikely, so until things get resolved, don't expect much. I hope to be done of this madness soon, however.

Now, if this were any other day, I would probably have ended the post at that as I do not have much else to say presently, but this is not any other day. No, this day is important, to a degree. This day is the day of What Is House. Allow me to explain:

I had watched the Season 5 finale of House M.D. with my brother recently, and we were both impressed. The show is going to be very interesting come Season 6, and I await it with much impatience. The finale itself, though -- especially the final scene -- was a fine piece of television. I will not try to spoil it for those unaware, but the final scene was a montage of events with music playing over top (this kind of montage is not uncommon for House M.D.). It was a good montage, but soon after watching, my brain came up with an idea to make it better. Well, maybe not "better", per se, but definitely funnier. My brain had decided that the montage would fit smashingly with Haddaway's hit song What Is Love.

I'm not sure how that thought came to me in the first place, but it was a powerful enough thought to spring me into action. I found the end montage online, muted it, and played it alongside What Is Love. The results were uncannily hilarious. Thus, the below video was created by me and hosted on Dailymotion as YouTube does not seem to agree with it (House M.D. Season 5 finale spoilers contained within the video, watch at your own risk):

What Is House: "House M.D. Season 5 Finale" & "What Is Love"
by JPLC

(Here's the link for the Dailymotion page for the video in case the above embeddded video doesn't work: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x9bk34_what-is-house-house-md-season-5-fin_fun )

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I first "discovered" the hilarity. Feel free to share the URL with friends. =P

Until next post, then. May the gods of fixed computers ensure that it happens soon.

If you see Solidus Snake and a crashed Arsenal Gear on the news tonight, you now know why

I know I just posted (the previous post was about Mirror's Edge, it's right below this one, please read it as well), but something just came to my attention:

Today is Thursday, April 30th, 2009. The Plant Chapter of my favourite game (and thus the majority of the game), Metal Gear Solid 2 for the PS2, was set in 2009 (the game was released in 2001) on the dual dates of April 29th and April 30th. I think this is something worth mentioning.

Happy MGS2 Day(s) everyone! Time for a poorly-Photoshopped picture to mark the event, woooooo!

METAL GEARS FOR ALL!