The main thesis of Tyranny of Clichés begins with the notion that conservative and libertarian arguments tend to get rebutted, not with counter-arguments, but with a series of stock statements like “Violence never solves anything” or “I’d rather see ten guilty men go free than one innocent man be found guilty.” These clichés are presented by liberals/progressives (whatever is the label du jour?) as self-evident truths with basis in a pragmatic analysis of the issues. Goldberg proceeds to dismantle those positions by showing how deeply rooted in ideology these statements are, and how, with a little scrutiny, they emerge as empty words with no backing in reality. Well, that’s the idea at least. On more than a few occasions it felt like he was just tit-for-tatting about how conservatives may do this thing, but you guys do it too… but totally to the max dudes! Not there’s anything wrong with this sort of political reverse 1-upping, but it drifted a little away from that aforementioned main thesis. No matter, the entire book is written in a lighthearted tone that makes for fun reading.
Mass Effect 3 is the satisfying conclusion to the Mass Effect trilogy (ME1 & ME2). The Reapers have finally come to reap and it’s Shepard’s job to unite the galaxy against them. Along the way you meet up with old allies (the ones you didn’t kill last time around), fight with all sorts enemies and hide behind a lot of cover.
The game plays more or less the same as the last one with the linear levels and cover-based combat. The graphics are about the same but they no longer have a film grain effect on top of everything. The place where all the Mass Effect games excel is in the storytelling. A lot of gamers complained about the ending, but I thought it was good (I did play the “extended cut”… a benefit of waiting until after launch to buy a game). There’s not much more to say other than this is an excellent game and well worth the 90+ hours of play time it will take to complete the entire trilogy. It’s the best sci-fi I’ve seen since Firefly and Serenity.
This is the first Western I’ve ever read. Written in 1933, Silvertip is the story of a gray-templed gunslinger who likes spaghetti and accidentally kills the wrong man. In an effort to redeem himself he gets caught up in a feud between honorable Mexicans (can’t a guy just carve a brand into their mortal enemy’s forehead and call it even?) and ruthless, torture-loving gringos. Overall, a pretty good and exciting story with e-paper thin characters. Another great freebie from Prologue Books.
I really liked this noir-ish crime novel set in the dingy pool halls of rural Texas. Lots of great characters and a Kill Bill-esque revenge plot with plenty of brutal action sequences.
Alan Wake was developed by the same people who made one of my favorite games, Max Payne. Unfortunately, there is no equivalent to the awesomely addictive bullet-time shooting mechanics of Max Payne. Instead, the main gameplay hook is that you shine a light on the bad guys to wear them down before you can hurt them with your gun. It’s not a horrible system but it gets old really fast. Unlike Resident Evil, which mixes up gameplay on just about every level, in Alan Wake the thing you do in the tutorial to kill that first enemy if the same thing you do to defeat the foes in the last level.
What Alan Wake does have going for it is a lovely Twin Peaks vibe (all the way down to a clone of the Log Lady) and well thought out story. There are a bunch of collection achievements, but that sort of thing doesn’t really interest me as much as plowing through the main storyline.
Fresh off of Goldeneye 007 I am continuing my Wii FPS fix with Conduit 2. Apparently somewhere between 1 and 2 they may have lost the definite article but they gained a sense of self-aware humor. It helps that Micheal Ford is now being voiced by Jon St. John of Duke Nukem 3D fame.
Again, this game is looking about as good as you can on the Wii. The motion controls are very natural feeling (a bit better than Goldeneye in my opinion). The levels are a much less repetitive than the first Conduit game and the enemies offer just about the right amount of challenge for this aging gamer’s reflexes. This is not groundbreaking stuff here, but on the Wii, you take what they give you.
I’ve had this game for quite a while now and have been waiting until I complete it before writing about it. Man, I suck at Jamestown. I don’t know if I will ever finish it, so I guess I will say a few things about it now. Despite my inability to finish the game, Jamestown is great. It’s a rare PC exclusive bullet-hell shooter with pixel perfect art and wonderful music. On top of all this is a goofy 17th century colonial America on Mars theme. There is a good risk/reward balance and, even though I keep dying, it always feels like I almost could get past that last enemy. I think it will even support my massive X-Arcade joystick controller. So good.
I never played Goldeneye on the Nintendo 64. I guess the original was noteworthy for making the controls on a console FPS slighty less sucky. Well, that and the ability to play head-to-head with friends using a postage stamp sized corner of the screen. The Wii refresh of Godeneye improves upon the analog stick controls by using the much more FPS friendly numchuck and Wiimote control scheme that worked so well in the Metroid Prime games. Sure, it’s not even close to the precision of a PC mouse and keyboard, but it’s perfect for playing while sitting back on the couch.
The game itself is really good. There’s a decent amount of variety in game play and the story and cut-scenes kept me pushing forward. I especially liked the stealthier sections of the game. Like everything else about a Wii vs. PC FPS, the stealth seems kinda dumbed down, but, then again—and maybe I’m just cutting the Wii some slack—I didn’t mind it at all.
I have tried the split-screen multiplayer too and it’s fun too. However, you need more than two people to make it really work.
Outside of Demons, I have not see many of Lamberto Bava’s films. A Blade in the Dark has a few really effective and tense sequences. Counter to the title, these horrible killings mostly occur in bright, fluorescent light (not unlike Argento’s Tenebre). Unfortunately, the story is terrible. The victims are just passersby who appear in the main character’s house for no good reason. The hero’s job is that of a horror movie composer. This could have been played up in some real interesting ways but, except for some disjointed voices on his tape early on, it really plays no part in the plot.
Dear Esther is a noble little experiment that pushes the notion of video games as art. The problem is, it isn’t much of a game. You walk around a beautifully rendered desolate island in first-person view. As you move along you are fed bits and pieces of a narrative involving a car accident and a woman named Esther. The story slowly comes together as you approach your goal but remains vague and feels unfinished even near at the very end. Again, this is not a game. Unlike the very similar (yet excellent) text adventure, Photopia (similar both thematically and game-aticly [yes, I made that up]), in Dear Esther there are no choices to be made and any exploration is limited to a couple of structures off to the side of the main path. You pretty much stick to that path and keep pushing forward. In Photopia the story becomes coherent, complete and satisfying at the end. Dear Esther – not so much.
Now all this isn’t to say that it isn’t a worthwhile hour or so of holding down the walk-forward key. The game is beautiful, and, even though at first I didn’t really get what was going on, the narration is very, how shall we say, “fancy” sounding and arty. Whenever someone tries to push the position that video games can be art they always seem to compare games with movies. I think this is a bad comparison. Video games have much, much more in common with site-specific and installation art. It isn’t so much about the scene-to-scene plot as it is about the immersion and exploration. In that context, Dear Esther is an admirable work of art that I’d recommend despite its non-gamey-ness.
