Three Lights Update

Well, I got my shipping box last night, packed up my 360 and dropped it off this morning. Here are a few photos for those of you who are curious what all this looks like.

The address of the repair facility from the shipping label.



Here's the rest of the label



The instructions (sorry for the quality, this is the first time I've used this camera, I got it this week for my birthday)



Finally, this is the little UPS drop-off where I got my receipt, where, incidentally, they tossed my box a good four feet into the spot where they leave all the packages without even asking me if the contents were fragile or sensitive. Good thing for them it's already broken.



So wish me all luck. Hopefully we won't have to document any more failed systems here.

THERE ... ARE ... THREE ... LIGHTS!

Well, my 360 has been hinting that it was on it's way out, crashing during three successive play periods on two different games. I had one last hurrah when I beat a R6: Vegas level I've been stuck on for a month or so (due more to apathy than lack of skill). Saturday night, I fired it up, got about a minute into gaming and it froze on me.

It did not respond to the guide button.

I walked over to the TV, powered down and back up, and there it was. The red ring of death was staring me in the face. I went through everything with tech support, and yes, my hardware has failed. Considering that I was camped out at midnight launch night to get one of these, and given how notorious the 360 failure rate is and that I had a launch console, I'm not all that surprised by this development. It is tremendously unfortunate that the extended warranty, while a nice gesture, failed to cover me when I needed it. It's strange to think that my NES, SNES, N64, Xbox and Gamecube (until I traded it in towards a Wii) all still function perfectly, and that a system I had less than two years, actually for only 17 months died in spectacular fashion. It may happen that as systems become more complicated and technologically advanced, they are subject to higher rates of failure. I hope it's not the case, but it may well be.

They funny thing though (well, not really funny) is that Ben was had not one, but two Wiis fail on him. Luckily for him, they were covered under warranty.

I must say, in defense of Msoft, the tech was nice, helpful, and efficient, and had an answer to every question I had. The box for repair was supposed to be shipped to me in four business days, the system repaired in two, and shipped back in four. With a bit of luck, I should have it week after next. This may prove to be a blessing in disguise, as it will push me to play the games I have on other systems.

I should be getting a digital camera for my birthday this weekend (it was actually Tuesday, but I had to postpone celebrations due to a full schedule), with which I'll document the proceedings.

Wish me luck readers.

Bonus points if you can identify the source material

In the words of Woody Allen ...

Those of you who've read this blog, or any of my others, you know that my interests extend beyond that of games. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but there are other things in my life, and at times my interests in one area inform the others.

Among other things, I'm a film buff, and Annie Hall is one of my favorites. Woody Allen used the phrase "mental masturbation" to refer to college courses such as "Contemporary Crisis in Western Man," or "Existential Motifs in Russian Literature." I've always thought this phrase was a great way to describe the sort of pointless, self-aggrandizing intellectualism that one comes across not just in college, but elsewhere in life. Philosophy, psychology, sociology, anthropology, art theory, all of these are important fields of study, but at times they can run amuck. This affliction is not limited to scholars, or the small selection of fields I've listed, they were just the first examples that came to mind. This can even afflict game journalism. The one post in particular that has irked me appeared yesterday on Destructoid.

This post was on an interesting topic. Should games seek to grow beyond the idea of simply being fun? But beyond the premise, the article is a jumbled, rambling, poorly sourced mess that really only serves to advance the author's theories and comes off a lot like someone who wants to hear themselves talk. This article could have made a good round table discussion, or podcast, or a mildly interesting lecture, but as an article, it misses the mark.

I guess the other reason I took issue with this article is that I think it's thesis misunderstands the very nature of videogames, and of entertainment, and the author presents his points poorly and haphazardly. Should videogames try to reach the levels or art that prose, poetry and film have reached? Sure, and I'll try those games. But the real basic point, that doesn't require several thousand words, is that games need better writing. You do this, and the rest of what we want will follow. Have you ever watched a movie by a great screenwriter, and then one by a poor one? Would you be tempted to call one "art," and the other "escapist fun"?

Now here's the kicker: if you enjoy both of them, does the "fun" movie need to evolve into great art, or can we simply enjoy it for what it is? I say we enjoy it.

The title of the post is "Fun isn't enough: why video games have to move beyond escapism." Actually, fun is enough. Fun is the point. If you were to ask me why I love baseball more than any other sport, I couldn't give you reasons more concrete than "I enjoy it," or "I think it's fun to watch and play." That's enough for me, and I've enjoyed it as a part of my life for 24 years, and hopefully I'll be watching it until I die or lose my eyesight (in which case I'll just listen). All because it's fun.

Sometimes you need a masterful portrait of human events and emotion, and sometimes you need the Three Stooges. Sometimes you need a game with a compelling plot that challenges the way you think about the world, and sometimes you need Tetris. Games must remain fun, and them must remain fun first. We can make them better and more complicated, but even in five hardware generations, people will still play Tetris, Mario, hell, probably even Pong. They will play these games because they are fun, and for no other reason. The games described in this article will come about, but they will not be the only species or game left.

Now, the article makes some really dumb mistakes too. Such as:

Instead of looking at WWII as the horrific loss of life than it was, in video games the war is frequently depicted in much the same way it was in the 1940’s: a heroic, unambiguous fight against evil. Good guys die in large numbers, but their deaths are not terribly violent (not a single WWII game I can think of includes blood, much less gibbing). The enemies we fight are faceless and without personality (Call of Duty 2 seems to have about twelve different Nazi models, total).

Factual errors tend to undermine an article, especially when they are phrased like so: "not a single game I can think of includes blood." Well, after 10 seconds on the ESRB page, I found the following

Call of Duty 2 / Activision / T / Blood, Mild Language, Violence

Oh really. How interesting. He couldn't think of (or hadn't played, which is the greater sin) the game he mentions in the next sentence. And as for gibbing, it has gone out of style since ragdoll physics have come into style: why blow a person to pieces if you can watch them crumple and dangle to show off the neat new physics engines? Anyone who has actively played games over the last five years should be aware of this trend.

To the other point he made in the quote, about the exploitation of the seemingly simple good versus evil dichotomy of WWII, yes, simple can be dull, and deprive you of the enjoyment that a rich story with twists, turns and mixed motives might have. But there are plenty of games that actually do this. Despite being dumped on prolifically by Destructoid, Twilight Princess puts you in a situation where you have to assist someone who may or may not have any real interest in helping you, and may well just be using you. This is interesting, and subverts the usual good / evil framework, since you're not really sure what you're doing is good at all. Deus Ex did this as well, and gave you choices about how to move through the game. Oblivion and Morrowind let you reshape the world around your character, engage in political espionage and assassination, become a criminal or vampire, and the variety of the choices and freedom even scared some people off. Games already do all the things he talks about, and they do so outside of Shadow of the Colossus and FF VII which are the untouchable fanboy pillars of esoteric gaming.

Finally, no article, opinion piece or post should ever include any heading as dumb as "Misery is friggin’ awesome." No, actually misery is miserable. We here at FPSS have all know each other for some time, and at times Ben and I have debated how one should approach their emotions. I always held that the most important thing was honesty in expressing how you feel; if you see reasons to feel sad, then feel sad, if you see reasons to be happy, be happy. Ben would say that the negative effects of sorrow and pain can be avoided by changing your frame of mind, and it's more important to focus on trying to keep yourself happy. However, neither of us would endorse the sort of feelings that were put forth in this article:

But misery? Misery, as said above, sticks with you forever. Misery can ruin your life, and fuel your creativity. Misery can give you purpose and drive where simple happiness and contentment lead to stagnation. Not to get any more philosophical or condescending than I already have, but wouldn’t it be interesting to see that misery present in video gaming, as well?

Not to be superior or snarky, but philosophical and condescending peg this article quite well. People (hopefully) grow out of this mindset as they leave their teenage years. At best, this attitude could be described as adolescent, and at worst this sort of wallowing is pathetic. So much great art has been inspired by natural beauty, or aspiration to create something beautiful, or to prove your love to someone, and to suggest that all art comes from misery is downright mean and cold to the bone.

Have the chutzpa to enjoy something - in the words of South Park:

BUTTERS: Wuh-ell yeah, and I'm sad, but at the same time I'm really happy that somethin' could make me feel that sad. It's like, ih ih, ih it makes me feel alive, you know? It makes me feel human. And the only way I could feel this sad now is if I felt somethin' really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good, so I guess what I'm feelin' is like a, beautiful sadness. I guess that sounds stupid...

GOTH 1: Yeah.

STAN: No. No, Butters, that doesn't sound stupid at all.

BUTTERS: Well, thanks for offerin' to let me in your clique, guys, uh but, to be honest, I'd rather be a cryin' little pussy than a faggy Goth kid. Well see ya, Stan.

STAN: He's right. I don't even know who I am anymore. I like liking life a whole lot more than hating it. Screw you guys, I'm goin' home.

GOTH 2: Go ahead and go back to your sunshine fairytale!

No Butters, it doesn't sound stupid to me at all.

1337 Hacking Skills

Sure, I know that you want to use your skills for evil. Map hacks, aim bots, server abuse. But this is why we evolved huge frontal lobes, invented vacuum tubes and microprocessors, and put together the amazing entertainment devices known as the NES and the N64.



For those of you lacking the requisite gaming knowledge, I'll fill you in. This is Mario 64, re-textured using images from Super Mario Brothers and a smattering of Super Mario Brothers 3 (plus one image from Yoshi's Island).

Bravo; job well done. I demand more.

Modern psychology makes games more fun.

This post is in reaction to Jenova Chen's recent article in the Communications of the ACM, titled Flow in games (and everything else).

Chen writes an interesting article about how the psychological concept of flow is relevant to modern video game design. The trick is essentially that a game must be sufficiently challenging to significantly captivate the player’s interest, but not too difficult to cause constant frustration. Any dedicated gamer would agree, getting into the “zone” is a highlight of the gaming experience.

While this may sound like common sense, it is useful to have descriptors and measurements for flow, especially when it comes to video game design. Who wouldn’t want a game that is more attuned to that “zone” of creativity and mental acuity we all find so enjoyable?

The concept of flow was introduced by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi in the 1970s, and is now considered one of the fundamental building blocks of modern psychology. According to Wikipedia, “Flow is the mental state of operation in which the person is fully immersed in what he or she is doing, characterized by a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and success in the process of the activity.”

According to Csikszentmihalyi there are 8 major component’s of flow:

• A challenging activity requiring skill;
• A merging of action and awareness;
• Clear goals;
• Direct, immediate feedback;
• Concentration on the task at hand;
• A sense of control;
• A loss of self-consciousness; and
• An altered sense of time.

Any good video game designer will attempt to touch on as many of these as possible. Chen provides charts suggesting that flow zones for different players will occur at different difficulty levels. Like the GREs, video games that encourage flow will adjust their difficulty levels according to the ability of the player. Some games take a deliberate approach to this – we’re all quite familiar with Halo’s Legendary difficulty setting, for example.

What Chen does not touch upon, and which may be interesting research in the future, is to analyze which kinds of experiences prove to be most fulfilling for different types of users. I am not certain what all the dimensions of measurement should be, but it seems that World of Warcraft could provide at least some basic insight.

World of Warcraft approaches flow in all the right ways, and this is, I believe, the primary reason it is such a popular game. The concept of leveling is not new to the RPG genre, but Warcraft provides just the right amount of difficulty at each level to make the experience rewarding, even if you’re soloing. It succeeds because it provides opportunities for players to engage the game on many different dimensions. If you’re interested in finances, you can play the Auction House; if you’re a team player, there are dungeons and raids aplenty; if you’re a strategic sniper, you can do that; if you’re into narrative and stories, just follow the quests; and the list goes on.

A game needn’t be as vast and multivariate as WoW to promote flow. Seemingly simple games like Checkers, Tetris, or Mario 3 can be just as engaging, though perhaps not to as wide an audience as Blizzard’s masterpiece. The simple “speed-up” of the falling blocks in Tetris was always enough to keep my interest piqued, and the anticipation of what’s just beyond the edge of the screen in Mario could be a great thrill.

For myself, appropriate anticipation of future events in a game is what is most exciting. When I am forced to analyze the current situation, imagine what the future scenarios might be like, and to prepare my character/team/army appropriately, I am most engaged in the process. In Warcraft, the options of what to equip when, whether to use my druid’s cat form or feral form when attacking an enemy, how to cast heals on my teammates appropriately so I don’t run out of mana and so that none of them die; all of these things are what I find most intriguing.

My personal flow also manifests itself in RTS games like Homeworld or Total Annihilation, where the build-up is just as important as the actual fight. Of course, the fight itself often requires as much awareness and pre-cognition (to borrow a term from Philip K. Dick) and is also enjoyable.

What do you find generates the most flow for you?

Hopefully understanding flow will help game designers to create even more engaging games in the future.