Loss of Innocence

I've heard that the last 'official' Dreamcast game is to be released soon.

That games are still produced for Sega's final hardware misadventure at all may shock some people. But there's a cult following for the first of the current gen consoles (let's not herald the new gen's arrival until we see some more decent non-ported 360 titles). This following is mainly comprised of Sega fanboys and hardcore gamers alike. Alas, even they will have to accept that the system is now, officially, dead.

I'm quite upset by Sega's demise as a hardware developer. I was a Master System & Mega Drive/Genesis child of the late 80's and early 90's. I had many a heated debate with the rich kids about why the SNES's Mode 7 graphics meant nothing, Sonic was way cooler than that fat little Italian plumber, and we had red blood in Mortal Kombat. They'd then kick me firmly into touch with mention of Street Fighter II. Then after about an hour we'd agree to disagree and watch the turtles or something. It was a magical era for me and my favourite pastime, where games tried to be original, and developers weren't shackled by the money men.

Sega's demise was pretty much seeded by their step up from the Mega Drive. The Mega-CD & 32X suffered from a poor catalogue of games, crap marketing, and consequently, a crap consumer perception. This commercial car crash in slow motion spilled over to the Saturn launch: once Sony bailed out of a hardware deal with Nintendo, went solo and deployed its 'Playstation generation' blueprint well, something had to give. Sadly, it was Sega.

Yet both the Saturn and the Dreamcast had some really, really great games. So why would they fail? For the answer, just follow the top ten sales charts for this summer. If Fifa 2006 - Germany doesn't attach itself to the number one spot like a limpet I'll not only eat my hat, but post pictures of this process (plus the resulting stomach pump) on this blog.

Sega's demise is testimony to the marketing machine which is today's gaming industry. An edifice to cash stifling creativity; and if you snubbed the Dreamcast in favour of waiting for the Playstation II, you've got Sega's blood smeared all over your hands. This includes me.

The answer is simple: never buy another title you don't believe to be original in some way shape or form. Avoid sequels unless they significantly improve upon the original concept, or its predecessor was groundbreaking in some way. Import games you wouldn't normally play. Develop an instinctive cynicism toward EA titles. Buy a Nintendo Revolution on release day.

And last but not least: don't forget why you love games, and who's responsible.

Out of Oblivion

Well, after a few more hours of serious play, it appears Oblivion isn't quite as clever as it would have you believe.

Central to the game's appeal (and others of its type) is its sense of immerison. This largely depends on the diversity of the game world, the robustness of the rules that govern it, and the credibility of unscripted NPC behaviour employed to flesh out the experience.

I have witnessed many a gaming magazine and webzine circumventing the difficult issues facing Oblivion in favour of raving about Radiant A.I., unprecedented freeform gaming and the beautiful beautiful stars. Maybe all these really are great, but let's not kid ourseleves: once the initial wonderment wears off, what you're left with is a lot of the same problems that dog many freeform games of this ilk.

What does this mean? To start, there's plenty of NPC stupidity (I massacred somebody's pet dogs in front of them with an axe, threw their dinner at the wall and then calmly approached them and held a civilised conversation). Secondly, the system of advancement is screwed to fuck. As you advance, all generic enemies become tougher, meaning the game world content has to change to accommodate your character's development. This belies the intended impression of a world that functions organically and without your input. Not good at all. Thirdly, well... the stars are beautiful...

What I'm trying to say is Oblivion is a bit like an oil painting: best viewed from a distance. Get up close, and everything starts to look a lot more crude. Keep your distance and put that knowledge to one side though, and it's a masterpiece.

Into Oblivion

For the past eighteen months my gaming time has been ruined... by a game. No matter how hard I tried to 'get into' other titles, they all seemed a lonely and inferior experience in comparison to Halo 2 online. Until 360 Oblivion.

This is what next gen is supposed to be about. Real advancement. Not simply the same chassis and engine with new bodywork, but a reinvention (or at least reinvigoration) of a genre from the ground up. New consoles are supposed to do this.

The sparce choice of Western console RPG's have never really courted much attention from me. I wanted to be embroiled in some mystical fight for good in some faraway land, but I just didn't have the time (it's difficult saving a kingdom from evil when dinner's on and the nightly scrum for the T.V. remote ensues). Consequently I defaulted to a compromise between depth of gameplay and how easily my play sessions can be shoehorned into my day (i.e. mostly Halo 2 online). Well that's all out of the window now.

I have this bizarre fixation with Oblivion. It's sporadically ingenious then plain fucking stupid; it can be astonishingly beautiful and then pig-dog ugly; it makes you weep with joy then turns those tears to little beads of liquid frustration in an instant. But every moment ripples with invention and ambition.

I haven't even touched on the main quest yet and I'm some twenty hours in. I've been appointed a Mage, then dismissed for pickpocketing from one of its members; become a paid assassin, ridden a Unicorn, and set foot inside hell (then bottled it, scavanged a sword off a nearby corpse and legged it back to civilization). I've foiled a graverobber, conned then killed a paranoid eccentric, and pushed a pirate into the sea. Oh, and I've been transported into an oil painting to rescue an artist as well.

I can't remember being this excited by a console title since GTA III. Reason being, it demonstrates scope for entirely new experiences over the next half-decade or so. It deserves to be at the top of the charts because its creators CARE about the player's experience. So just ignore the minor inconsistencies, pop-in graphics and occasional loadtimes and go buy it now.

D-Day

Off to play Sunday football now. It's the final game of the season and we need a win to avoid relegation to an even lower standard than we play at now. Which, frankly, is unimaginable. However, like a hero I must face my fate. United we stand and all that bollocks.

Oh, and my horse didn't place, but at least it didn't die.

A Grand Don't Come For Free

Well, in a complete betrayal of this blog's theme, my first bona fide post relates to horse racing.

To the delight of leather faced chain smoking bookies and the horror of SHAC-demo attending tree huggers, Aintree hosts the Grand National today. For those not well versed in British culture, it's pretty much the only horse race that everyone watches; man, woman and child. Winners are romanticised to absurd levels, and even the names of famous losers (usually robbed at the last by some twist of fate) are readily dredged from the memories of racing laymen.

Every office has a sweepstake on the National. Keep an eye out for Joe's Edge, the only of my four randomly selected nags that has a semblance of a chance.

I'm undecided on jump racing. More than 30 horses have lost their lives running in the National in post war times, and I wouldn't be at all surprised to witness another fatality today. Yet it seems apart from the aforementioned tree-huggers, the public put aside their views on animal rights for one day to excuse 'having a punt'.

Racing people argue that the competing horses live pampered lives and in some way have 'bought into' the glory of racing on some conscious level. I think if you start dragging a horse around a paddock from a young age making them jump things all day then that's all it's going to know.

Still, I'm all for shelving my morality for a quick buck and an afternoon of entertainment. So I've just put a tenner on Garvivonnian at 14/1.

Here's to tradition.

Popping the Cherry

So, here goes. My virgin blog, my virgin post.

Given my propensity to half-arse things, I'm taking bets on this being my last as well. As for my plans for this little corner of the internet, well, at the moment, I think it's going to be games as the core ingredient, with the occasional careless daubing of A-Level standard politics and self absorbed ramblings about my life.

This could be fun. For me, at least.