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By: Justin Sells

"Laments of an Old School Gamer"

I do not like modern video games. I like games that make it obvious a lot of care was put into their creation. I like to have my performance graded, and I like to be punished when I do not meet the standard of perfection. I like to be continuously tested, forced to think each section through or have excellent motor skills. I like entities that have charisma, whether they are a wooden box or an Italian plumber. I like the charisma to be conveyed by usefulness, and applicability instead of empty hype. In the case of a living thing, I like to have to read between the lines to recognize someone's greatness, as opposed to it being forced upon me by corny comments, and an aura of 'trying too hard'. I like to be told just enough to let my imagination kick in and visualize the rest, so that I can have a unique experience from everyone else playing, and also so I can become fully immersed.

I like things to be realistic in a psychological sense as opposed to an overt physical sense. For example: In Wizardry, I must form a party with synergy and raise them correctly in order to be effective. I must make the correct decisions or the outcome will not be in my favor. Each character has unique physics and psychology, and I have my own metaphysical intentions for each of them. Skills, weaknesses, weapon/armor preferences/limitations, and they have a potential uniqueness to their background. If an Elf chooses to be an archer, he will be dexterous and agile, proficient in long-range weapons, and average to low defense wise. If I have a black mage, he will learn black magic at the appropriate rate for his profession, which he has chosen, and must be bound to in order to truly excel at the art. It is ludicrous to see the omnipotent and utterly generic characters in modern Rpgs that function as a Mage/cleric/Fighter/Thief who can use all weapons and armor and perform well in offense, defense and magic. Certain things should not be customized. You can choose a race, a class, and equipment as it pertains to a particular profession. What doesn't make sense is the ability to have everyone do everything. Such is the difference between Wizardry and FF7. All the characters lose their value and distinction when they all do everything. Rpgs are about different types of warriors coming together to form a party in which they can lend their individual and exclusive traits to in order to further the goal of the group.

You do not become a cleric because you find some shiny rock; you have to train in the school of white magic. To watch a little girl, over 3 different turns cast Ultima, Life, and then hit for 9999 is disgusting, and devoid of charisma. The focus should be on the quest itself, and each quest is unique, considering the goal is to achieve maximum synergy and functionality with ones party; not watching movies and hearing about emotional problems. Know why my cleric in Wizardry has no emotional problems? Because he knows who and what he is: a cleric, and a damn good one. He focuses on his white magic, and takes everything as it comes. You can sit back and imagine the characters' exploits when the game is turned off, but when it is on, the focus should be attaining greater proficiency in ones' art as it relates to the ultimate goal. I like text boxes that tell me "a bandit draws near".…and "eyes me cautiously". I then picture something far more amazing than if the bandit approached me in FMV, and began speaking like a member of a boy band. In Metroid, I can play the role of a space Pirate, in Defender I can put the fate of the people in my hand, and in The Legend of Zelda I can explore a vast and mystical land. I can be fully transported into the world in which it takes place. This is what physical realistic programming takes away from games, because the more they "add" to a character the more it takes away from the immersion, and the less I can become that character. Games like GTA are in opposition to the immersion theory, because one could go for a walk and hear and see those kinds of things in the real world…and why would you want to. These are the very things that cause me to turn to video games and my imagination for serenity. And regarding the endless quantity of pointless "goodies" which can be unlocked upon completion of these modern titles, I have this to say: I do not need an incentive for beating a game besides beating it; for if I did, I would surely not be worthy of the title: 'gamer'.

I like to have to use everything I've got to get where I need to be, unassisted by in-game tutors. There is a lot to be said for merely completing many classic titles, much less earning a high score. I enjoy the bragging rights associated with a flawless run through Ninja Gaiden, or beating the champs' Space Invaders score. I like unlocking the strategic secrets of each game, especially when it looks like nothing is there, and appears 'hard'. This is when I look beneath the surface and after a while I say "Ohhhhhhh so THAT'S what they meant by that, or "Ohhhhhh so THIS is the technique I use to get past this formidable 8-bit boss. I like obstacle courses, in which every 10 yards there is another enigmatic challenge. Levels like 6-2 of Ninja Gaiden or some of the higher Galaga stages are almost alive to me. They have charisma. I like it when there is something I have to learn in order to progress. I like under-developed characters, because then I can develop them, based on their ambiguous, yet striking presence. For example, I get a kick out of imagining the bosses in Double Dragon from Abobo up to the shadow boss, in various situations that furthers my immersion into the game environment. Or that damn dot in Adventure that kept my attention for weeks. Or the secret agent in Golgo 13, whom I can't escape picturing with an English accent; or Vodka Drunkinsky from Punch out, getting drunk at the bar before the fight; the minus world in SMB for crying out loud and the red mages' hat in FF1.

I like subtle details, either by themselves or in conjunction with a finely worded and illustrated manual that combines with my imagination and creates gaming bliss. I like the Japanese 80's synthesizer music on the NES, where I can just picture that Japanese producer putting his heart and soul into capturing the vibe of total 80's badassness; it matters not that it is all synthesized or that they had no live instruments, what matters is what they did with the synthesizer they had; it is startling. The intrusive presence of commercial hip-hop in a video game is the quickest way to jerk me out of the vibe. I can find that anywhere for goodness sake; I don't need it in my video games, nor do I need to hear any modern "street" slang, which strikes me as absurd, stereotypical, exploitative and utterly convoluted. I enjoy the deeply challenging mathematical system in games like Might and Magic, which allows me to calculate an entire round of combat to a 'T' and forces me to focus on every decision; for if I do not, my demise is eminent, and I will see that long lost relic: the 'Game over' screen. Then I will have no choice but to rework my strategy, rethink my math or improve my motor skills in order to progress. That way I learn something. I enjoy having to work my way into an area in which I can save; so I can appreciate what it means to do so. I dislike having the ability to save anytime, which causes me to loose any sense of tension. There can be 300 different 'goals' in a game, but as far as I am concerned there is nothing like a game in which the one goal sounds simple (to reach the end), yet actually is monumentally complex in application. I do not like remakes, as I have never seen one that captures the multiple facets of the original 'feel', and is not in some way watered down and convoluted, failing to live up to the name of, and capitalizing on the notoriety of it's namesake.

I do not like 3d, as I believe it is a method of fooling the gamer into believing that there is more to do than there really is. There are games that have tons of nice looking inanimate objects, yet do not require half as much thought or interaction as a single screen in many classic titles across multiple genres; weather it is discovering what lies behind the bush/rock/statue/water/etc. in Zelda, making the correct series of jumps and slashes in Ninja Gaiden or defeating a group of metal Babbles in Dragon Quest 3.

I do not like the control associated with 3-D. I find it ridiculous and choppy to say the least. Some are better than others but they all lack that sharpness and response found in a much higher percentage of 2D games. All of this diagonal jazz, or the delay in jumping, or any of the other aspects that have no point other than doing them for the sake of themselves. Even with the horrible controls most games are STILL way to easy. Mario 64, for crying out loud, even as one of the absolute best uses of 3D controls is at least 10 times less difficult than its predecessors; especially SMB2 (J). In the process of obsessing over 3D, the entire obstacle course feeling was lost. After all there is much less tension in successfully making proper jumps, using foes as platforming objects etc. that made the older Mario games quite exciting. On top of that you can save, which removes the sense of necessity; that which prompts one to step up to the plate.

I do not like in game tutors. I see them as replacements of a good manual and one's own skill. When a character jumps out of a bush and says "Hey! The key is right over there", well, that is just idiotic really. We used to have to take notes, make maps, use our memory and solve problems using our noggin. The manual told us what we needed to know, and then left the rest to us. Now they use in game characters with colored text and bolded sentences, stating the obvious. I do not like a lack of challenge as I have stated, and I detest game engines that cater to the "jump in" style of play, as I feel sufficient time must be spent in order to get to know the ins and outs of any game worth one's time. The less time required for analysis, the less rewards to reap upon deconstructing the engine.

I do not like FMV. I feel that games are a different medium than movies and should be treated as such. FMV wastes time. It shows you an interpretation of the game world from the developer's point of view, which is exactly the same for everyone. It is never as good as the worlds I see with my imagination in classic games, which allows me to become fully immersed. If a game tries to be a half-movie, it will not stand up to dedicated movies, or dedicated games. As far as conveying a story through FMV, I can have FAR greater stories conveyed through films, where the only button I need to press is play. And I won't even get started on books. I am used to blasting invaders; or maneuvering through Ninja Gaiden; or orchestrating a fine round of intense turn-based combat. Functionality such as that sets the vibe for what I am actually doing, not a movie showing one of my characters talk like N'sync and the other like 50 Cent, while doing meaningless plot- oriented things that have no relevance to the gameplay. I already have many favorite movies and books. No plot-oriented game is going to surpass them. What those movies and books cannot give me is the almighty satisfaction of a perfect Battletoads run through, or surpassing my Galaxian score, or when I watch my 6 character party carry out a sequence of commands that I have carefully inputted, causing them to function with a synergistic essence that would make most Olympic diving teams jealous. I like to reap the rewards of my efforts; whether my efforts are in the form of motor skills, memory, hand eye coordination, problem solving, tactical prowess, depth perception, physics, math, science or impeccable timing. Without turning this into a book or a thesis, or using 15 methods of saying the same thing: I simply adore games with substance; I simply abhor games without it.

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