Tried and True Titles
I want to write, but I don't feel like writing. I've had a cold-ish sort of thing for a few days now, my back is plenty sore, and my sinuses are plenty clogged.
But I always rant at my students, "a little bit every day," so stuff and things and whatnot and what have you.
I like my job – like seriously business. Obviously, if I had the choice between hot-tubbing with books all day and doing my job, I'd have to go with hot-tub book-time. Besides that magical fantasy, however, my job is pretty fantastic. The only downside is that I don't move a lot. There was a brief season in my life when I worked a cheap construction job. I got up quite early, moved heavy stuff all day, and got home early. It was perfect for my teenage self. My current job is perfect for my 28-year-old self; I just need to devote time to exercise now. A lot of things are sifting into place over the weeks/months; regular exercise is my next habit to add.
I still haven't read in my new room, but I at least have a lamp I can turn off without getting out of bed.
Baldur's Gate 2! Aaron (one of my many, beloved brothers) has allowed me to access his Steam account. Baldur's Gate 2 is such a nostalgic classic; it's half of my childhood practically. Wellll, video games are half of my childhood, and BG2 was a large part thereof.
I'm not sure if I've outgrown them in some way. I'm not sure if I've become subjected to the modern-day rush. I'm not sure what it is. But I often find myself skipping through the narratives in games. There was a time (Star Control 3 for example) when I relished each morsel of story. I have theories; I have so many theories. For old games that I replay, I know most of the stories, so I don't need to rehash them. For new games, however, I do occasionally get the vibe that the writers didn't really commit much of anything to the story (Destiny for example). Skyrim did a reasonably good job of filling the world with story. Elder Scrolls Online seems like a noncommittal, online copy of Skyrim. There's some flashy stuff to be sure – and they definitely spent money on story writing – but it's not heartwrenching in the least. The Kingdom Hearts series had beautifully immersive stories. In contrast, I don't feel attached to anyone in Elder Scrolls Online. Skyrim didn't garner a massive amount of affection, but a handful of characters generated enough appeal; there were some memorable personalities and such: the bratty child that wandered Whiterun or the arrogant wizard in Winterhold for example.
I often recall the quotation from "XXX" with Vin Diesel:
Reflect with me. Zelda games have long been proponents of wonderfully complex puzzles. RPGs in general have housed creative fiction. The King's Quest games especially exercised one's brain and, depending on how far back you go in the series, cultivated one's writing as a whole. If you go back even further to old-fashioned arcade games, you will recall a sense of fatalistic grit.
"Old computer games couldn't be won. They just got harder and faster until you died. Just like real life."
I've skimmed too many themes: depth of story, complexity of puzzles, and grit of challenges. Even so, there seems to be something that is sapped out of games nowadays. I've been trying to hold on to video games (for I believe that video games are just as reputable a diversion as any other), but their strength seems sapped, underfed if you will. I grew up on video games – and I say grew up advisedly, for I have learned quite a lot via video games throughout the years. I grew up on video games; I miss the heart that used to be put into them.
As with many things, I am sad to see their vitality dwindle. In the grand scheme of the universe, they are negligible, but it's like having your favorite flavor of a certain brand of ice cream discontinued. Or it's like having your favorite song redone by some band who doesn't do it quite the way your heart learned to love it, and you can't find the original. Or it's like eating cream-filled chocolate sandwich cookies when you were expecting Oreos. In many technical ways, it's the same, but, in the deep truth of life, it's not. It's like a perfunctory birthday party: the celebration is still technically there, but the excitement is awkwardly missing.
I'm not sure if they can be resuscitated in this greed-glutted season. Maybe in the next few decades, video game makers – and video games subsequently – can regain their sense of honor. For now, I'll seek solace in tried and true titles.
But I always rant at my students, "a little bit every day," so stuff and things and whatnot and what have you.
I like my job – like seriously business. Obviously, if I had the choice between hot-tubbing with books all day and doing my job, I'd have to go with hot-tub book-time. Besides that magical fantasy, however, my job is pretty fantastic. The only downside is that I don't move a lot. There was a brief season in my life when I worked a cheap construction job. I got up quite early, moved heavy stuff all day, and got home early. It was perfect for my teenage self. My current job is perfect for my 28-year-old self; I just need to devote time to exercise now. A lot of things are sifting into place over the weeks/months; regular exercise is my next habit to add.
I still haven't read in my new room, but I at least have a lamp I can turn off without getting out of bed.
Baldur's Gate 2! Aaron (one of my many, beloved brothers) has allowed me to access his Steam account. Baldur's Gate 2 is such a nostalgic classic; it's half of my childhood practically. Wellll, video games are half of my childhood, and BG2 was a large part thereof.
I'm not sure if I've outgrown them in some way. I'm not sure if I've become subjected to the modern-day rush. I'm not sure what it is. But I often find myself skipping through the narratives in games. There was a time (Star Control 3 for example) when I relished each morsel of story. I have theories; I have so many theories. For old games that I replay, I know most of the stories, so I don't need to rehash them. For new games, however, I do occasionally get the vibe that the writers didn't really commit much of anything to the story (Destiny for example). Skyrim did a reasonably good job of filling the world with story. Elder Scrolls Online seems like a noncommittal, online copy of Skyrim. There's some flashy stuff to be sure – and they definitely spent money on story writing – but it's not heartwrenching in the least. The Kingdom Hearts series had beautifully immersive stories. In contrast, I don't feel attached to anyone in Elder Scrolls Online. Skyrim didn't garner a massive amount of affection, but a handful of characters generated enough appeal; there were some memorable personalities and such: the bratty child that wandered Whiterun or the arrogant wizard in Winterhold for example.
I often recall the quotation from "XXX" with Vin Diesel:
[Dick's] also the guy who wants to pull every video game off every shop in the country because he feels that the video games diminishing intelligence of our youth. Oh, come on, Dick. It's the only education we got.I don't agree with the whole statement, but there's something hidden in the sentiment that rings true – or used to ring true.
Reflect with me. Zelda games have long been proponents of wonderfully complex puzzles. RPGs in general have housed creative fiction. The King's Quest games especially exercised one's brain and, depending on how far back you go in the series, cultivated one's writing as a whole. If you go back even further to old-fashioned arcade games, you will recall a sense of fatalistic grit.
I've skimmed too many themes: depth of story, complexity of puzzles, and grit of challenges. Even so, there seems to be something that is sapped out of games nowadays. I've been trying to hold on to video games (for I believe that video games are just as reputable a diversion as any other), but their strength seems sapped, underfed if you will. I grew up on video games – and I say grew up advisedly, for I have learned quite a lot via video games throughout the years. I grew up on video games; I miss the heart that used to be put into them.
As with many things, I am sad to see their vitality dwindle. In the grand scheme of the universe, they are negligible, but it's like having your favorite flavor of a certain brand of ice cream discontinued. Or it's like having your favorite song redone by some band who doesn't do it quite the way your heart learned to love it, and you can't find the original. Or it's like eating cream-filled chocolate sandwich cookies when you were expecting Oreos. In many technical ways, it's the same, but, in the deep truth of life, it's not. It's like a perfunctory birthday party: the celebration is still technically there, but the excitement is awkwardly missing.
I'm not sure if they can be resuscitated in this greed-glutted season. Maybe in the next few decades, video game makers – and video games subsequently – can regain their sense of honor. For now, I'll seek solace in tried and true titles.
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