“Don’t Bother Me Mom – I’m Learning,” “Job,” and “Nigger”
It’s a good bet that the above combination of words has never been said or written before and probably never will be ever again. Enjoy it while you can. Anywho, three more books read means three more mini-reviews/summaries.
“Don’t Bother Me Mom — I’m Learning” by Marc Prensky
Given the title of this book it could very well have turned out to be about the joys of masturbation, but somewhat disappointingly, it’s actually about the educational benefits of gaming. As the title suggests, it’s aimed at concerned parents who are worried about their children’s game-playing habits. And of course by “concerned parents” I mean overbearing suburbanite Moms with maybe just a little too much time on their hands; the kind of people that are head of the PTA and coach their kid’s soccer team. The author is a nobody who, despited obvious good intentions, does not completely convince me that he is an expert on the subject and worth listening to.
Many of the arguments are the same frequently cited by defenders of the games industry. Basically what they all sum up to is that video games do not cause serious harm to the players. He takes it a step further, though, by insisting that there’s a lot for kids to learn from video games. He says these skills they pick up in video games are essential as they grow up and “join society,” or at least essential enough that he encourages using games in the classroom. While I’ve long since accepted that video games aren’t going to rape my soul and turn me into a serial killer I am completely against games in classrooms. Sure, they won’t harm you and you may even learn a few things from a handful of titles (”handful” meaning a couple dozen).
But games are not, and probably never will be, about learning. They are about enjoyment, entertainment and any knowledge injected into them takes second priority. Furthermore, there just aren’t enough titles that are both entertaining and educational to make it worth buying, say, several thousand dollars worth of game systems or PCs. As much as it pains me to say this, using video games to teach is just another gimmick in my eyes. Why can’t schools hunker down and update ten-year-old textbooks instead of purchasing the latest gizmo (or sports equipment)? If I ever father children (Science help them) I definitely won’t stop them from gaming at home, but I’ll whine my butt off to the PTA if I find games at their school.
Job: A Comdey of Justice by Robert Heinlein
Now this is my definition of a good book. After reading a handful of Heinlein’s stories I was beginning to doubt Heinlein’s abilities, but this book showed me why so many adore his writing. Here’s a plot summary from Wikipedia:
The story examines religion through the eyes of Alex, a Christian political activist who is corrupted by Margrethe, a Danish Norse cruise ship hostess — and loves every minute of it. Enduring a shipwreck, an earthquake, and a series of world-changes brought about by Loki (with Jehovah’s permission), Alex and Marga work their way from Mexico back to Kansas as dishwasher and waitress.
Whenever they manage to make some stake, an inconveniently timed change into a new alternate reality throws them off their stride (once, the money they earned is left behind in another reality; in another case, the paper money earned in a Mexico which is an Empire is worthless in another Mexico which is a republic). These repeated misfortunes, clearly effected by some malevolent entity, make the hero identify with the Biblical Job.
On the way they unknowingly enjoy the Texas hospitality of Satan himself, but as they near their destination they are separated by the Rapture — pagans don’t go to Heaven. Finding that the reward for his faith, eternity as promised in the Revelation, is worthless without Marga, Alex’s journey through timeless space in search of his lost lady takes him to Hell and beyond.
Heinlein’s vivid depiction of a Heaven ruled by snotty angels and a Hell where everyone has a wonderful, or at least productive, time — with Mary Magdalene shuttling breezily between both places — is a satire on American evangelical Christianity. It owes much to Mark Twain’s Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven.
There are plenty of books that are labeled as comedies but aren’t the least bit funny or amusing. Heinlein’s ownFor Us, The Livingis one such uncomedy, but you’ll be hard pressed not to at least crack a smile while readingJob. The similarities to Mark Twain’s satire of evangelical Christianity are hard to miss, as they have similar subjects and tones. I foundJobmuch more entertaining than anything I’ve read by Twain, though. Perhaps this is because of the large gap in time between the writer (Twain) and the reader (Me). At any rate, I strongly recommendJob: A Comedy of Justice
Nigger by Dick Gregory
Here we have the autobiography of Dick Gregory, an African American comedian and civil rights activist. Having received my education from inner city public schools, I have had an ample dose of black author’s writing crammed down my throat. Given this, I never thought I would want to read something like this of my own accord, but this book shows how little weight there is in stereotypes. It’s charming, easy to read, and overall fairly light-hearted given the subject. I appreciate a book that can illustrate the horrors of our society while still showing me a good time; definitely not an easy task.
Those that succeed at such a task, as I believe Gregory has done, reap the rewards. Everyone prefers to laugh at serious issues than to have to listen to a more fire and brimstone account, and they’re still likely to learn something . This at least partly explains why shows like “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report” enjoy such high ratings. Back to Dick Gregory, it amazes me how he manages to describe even terrible personal events with such good humor. He begins his life in poverty and stays in such a condition many years into his adulthood. A failed night club and unexpected baby later, he reaches the lowest financial point of his life. He keeps improving his comedy, though, and finally lands his big break at the Playboy Club in Chicago. From there it’s all gravy, baby.
But as he lives his nice, comfortable life, he slowly begins to give back. As, despite all of his success, most of the white population still thinks of him and his kind as “niggers.” So he joins the civil rights movement, ends up in jail a few times, makes a difference, and ultimately makes it look easy.
Torus Trooper Review
The first few minutes of playing Torus Trooper were, without a doubt, some of the most exciting in my entire video game playing career. It’s classified as a tube shooter, a subgenre of the shoot ‘em up, which means it has the same basic mechanics as a normal vertically scrolling shooter but creates the illusion that your ship is careening down a tube or tunnel. Shoot ‘em up players are thoroughly accustomed to having their ships shot at, but tube shooters like this one make it seem like bullets and enemies are flying directly at you, the player. This is particularly exhilarating since tube shooters almost completely died out in the eighties, after a very brief stint in the lime light.
This is not your Tempest or Gyruss of old, however. The extremely smooth, abstract 3D graphics and the obligatory techno music are the most obvious improvements. And, as always, Kenta Cho has managed to include a few dashes of original game mechanics to spice things up. The procedural generation and unique bullet patterns are here and better than ever –perhaps Kenta Cho’s best implementation of these mechanics yet. The “mega shot,” which takes a few seconds to charge and destroys both bullets and enemies, is nearly useless. I didn’t realize it existed until level twenty, then hardly used it thereafter. The most interesting aspect, though, is the mix of F-Zero-esque futuristic racing with shoot ‘em up mechanics.
The game gives you two minutes to get to the end of each level. You lose fifteen seconds when your ship is hit by a bullet, and you gain time when you reach a checkpoint or kill the boss at the end of each level. (Although you are unaffected when hit by an enemy, which seems a bit odd.) The farther down on the screen your ship is the slower you move. Basic shoot ‘em up strategy and common sense tells the player to keep their ship at the bottom of the screen in vertically scrolling games. This way the bullets have spread farther apart so you should have an easier time navigating through them. With this new gameplay element Kenta Cho has devised a clever way to get you to move the ship farther forward. You’ll move faster but have a harder time navigating through the crowd and thus possibly die more often.
It’s not all peaches and roses though. Somehow, somewhere, I picked up this notion that shoot ‘em ups are supposed to be thrilling to the end. This is fairly easy for most shooters to satisfy since they are so short, but Torus Trooper seems to drag on forever. Worst yet, once you’ve played this game for a few minutes you’ve seen everything it has to offer. There are at least forty levels and three difficulty levels, but each variation contains the exact same elements. Sure, it was exciting at first, but playing the same beautiful note over and over does not produce a concerto.
Overall, it’s nice to see some innovation in the most stagnated of game genres. Shoot the Core, an enthusiast site with a fairly comprehensive list of PC shoot ‘em ups, lists only two other tube shooters. So it’s very likely you’ve never played a game quite like this. Just because something is you unique does not make it worthwhile, but Torus Trooper could make a case for itself even in the most crowded of fields.
My View on Review Scores
I’ve been meaning to talk about this for some time and this Gamasutra article I just read, “Video Game Review Scores: Pointless or Pertinent”, has pushed me to finally put it to paper. This issue is certainly as old as video game reviews themselves, but no one has been able to properly solve it and it’s likely no one ever will. The Gamasutra article does a good job of condensing the issue into one sentence: “While good critics will bemoan having to reduce a 1000-word piece of incisive criticism to a number on a 10 point scale (or, um, 19 point scale if you’re GameSpot), to the average consumer they offer a useful shorthand reference point with which to compare different titles and inform buying decisions.”
Of course, when I put so much effort into crafting a great review I don’t want the reader to pass right over it in favor of a review score that doesn’t mean very much. I don’t know any statistics denoting the number of gamers who look at the review score before anything else, but I can tell you from personal experience that unfortunately they are in the majority. It is more than just a matter of ego, though, as I always write a review as long as it needs to be to completely convey my feelings about a particular game. And, try as I might, I doubt I will ever be able to tell readers everything they need to know with a one or two digit score.
Every time a reviewer scores a game –besides killing a few babies with his thoughtlessness– he is attempting the impossible by applying quantitative values to qualitative data. For example, a reviewer might condense the line, “The graphics are ugly and take away from the overall quality of the game” to a score of 6/10 for the graphics category. I’d ask to see the formula or procedure he used to figure that out, but he probably doesn’t have one. In mathematics and science everything can be proven, checked and then double checked. Video games are much closer to art than any of the sciences (whether they are art is a perfect subject for another article) so they are much more open to personal feelings and opinions. This subjectiveness does not blend well with numerical scoring systems.
I’m convinced many reviewers look at their scores and opinions of other games (both past and present, in that game’s genre or not) to use as a sort of benchmark when conjuring up a score for their latest victim. Aside from the issue of subjectiveness I’ve already discussed, comparing such wildly different games as, say, Zelda and Mega Man, is a ludicrous proposal. Additionally, there is a major issue with this system that specifically affects Linux game reviewers like me. As much as I enjoy playing Linux games, I don’t believe there are any “perfect 10s” in the library — that is, games that make you jump up and down and scream for more. So any Linux game I give a score to is at an immediate disadvantage. So should I loosen my expectations a bit in an attempt to make the system more fair? No.
The real answer lies in eliminating video game review scores altogether, and I intend to stick to that policy. Although I’m sure I will lose (and probably have already lost) a certain part of my audience with tiny attention spans, I’m confident that those who have stayed are here to stay. I sort of regret not adding a review score, but I can’t do that until someone clears up the issues I have with the system.
A7Xpg Review
I’ve decided to write a review for a game by the talented Japanese shoot ‘em up designer Kenta Cho. Since I reviewed one, I figured why not review them all? So expect my reviews sprinkled over the calendar in the next few months. Due to the nature of his games, my reviews will be comparatively short and will act as buffers between more substantial games/reviews.
Many scientists and sci-fi writers like to think of time as a gigantic spaceship and ourselves as passengers. This ship is constantly moving forward, whether we want it to or not. Many people chose to blast straight through the 1980s, leaving virtually all of its pop culture behind, but the spirit of eighties video arcades still lives on in the form of remakes, throwbacks and revivals. This particular game, A7Xpg, aside from having a nearly unpronounceable name, takes what I call the Tempest 2000 approach by integrating flashy particle effects and a thumping techno soundtrack with primitive gameplay. A7Xpg is a completely original game, but it does feel a lot like an eighties arcade game.
The word “primitive” often carries with it a negative connotation. You may have mental images of a group of man-apes banging away mindlessly at an arcade cabinet before heading off to worship a mysterious monolith. But readers in their early thirties and older are likely to have fond memories of some of these seminal arcade games. Indeed, there are a few dozen titles that are well-remembered and an even smaller group that we as a society still play regularly. But then there are hundreds of titles that we shot out of the proverbial airlocks long ago, alongside hair bands, Hammer Pants and Reaganomics. Games have become increasingly complex in the last twenty years, so any modern game with the simple mechanics of an early arcade game needs something special to make any kind of splash.
A7Xpg has the same basic premise as Fishie Fishie and all of the “collect-a-thon” games before it. Collect all the randomly placed pieces before time runs out, while avoiding the randomly placed enemies. This randomness, often called “procedural generation,” is a hallmark of Kenta Cho’s games. So you effectively get a slightly different game each time you turn it on, but the downside is the developer has less control over the difficulty level and learning curve. Another small innovation is the ability to move some enemies out of the way with your rocket’s exhaust. This requires a bit of planning on your part to complete each level, or at least it would if this game wasn’t procedurally generated. Visually, this game is likely to remind you of Geometry Wars, with arena style levels, characters made from simple shapes, and a ridiculous amount of effects. These particular effects make the game blurry and detract slightly from the overall quality of the game.
This game is enjoyable to a point, but it lacks anything special enough to keep you coming back. And some of Kenta Cho’s other games, especially Tumiki Fighters, have a much better chance of riding along on “the ship” for years to come.
“A War of Gifts” and “For Us, the Living”
A War of Gifts by Orson Scott Card
First up is a short story spin-off of the acclaimed Ender series. I read the original book Ender’s Game and a few of its many sequels and spin-offs. I really enjoyed “Ender’s Games” but my interest in the series has slowly waned with each new book. It was a great book and great books deserve sequels, but this makes it clear that Card has run out of interesting stories to tell in the Ender universe. Furthermore, the writing is not up to Card’s usual standards, further proof that Card wrote it solely to put a little more money in his and his publisher’s pockets.
For those who have never read the Ender books, here is a quick recap. The human race has narrowly survived two separate invasions by an alien race which they call the “Buggers.” A third attack is believed imminent so the worldwide government begins to scour the Earth for child prodigies that they hope to turn into officers in time for the third strike. To accomplish the difficult task of teaching them, they ship the kids up to an orbiting training facility called the “Battle School” where they manipulate each kid in different ways. The “Ender” in the title refers to a very young prodigy (even by their standards) who becomes the leader of the kids and eventually saves the day. The first book is focused mainly on the events in Battle School from Ender’s point of view. This particular book takes the point of view of a fundamentalist Christian attendee who refuses to cooperate and play the adult’s “game.”
Overall, it’s very derivative. Really, how many more times can Card take us back to the same place before we get tired of it? A series needs an epic premise in order to produce an equally epic number of enjoyable sequels. Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series, which uses the entire galaxy as a setting and has a thousand year timeline, is a perfect example. Otherwise you will produce a lot of redundant material as Card has done. He really is a talented writer so by writing junk like this he’s eating up valuable time that he could be using to create fresh, new universes.
For Us, the Living by Robert Heinlein
This was Heinlein’s first novel, but it was rejected and went unpublished until 2003, many years after his death. I understand completely why the publishers rejected it. For one, it isn’t really a novel at all, but a collection of lectures jammed together and covered with a thin plot. I would explain the plot but I believe Wikipedia does a better job: “Perry Nelson, a normal 1939 engineer, is driving his automobile when he has a blowout, skids over a cliff, and wakes up after the car accident in the year 2086.” This world of 2086 is a pseudo-Utopia, far different from the world Perry knew in 1939. So he spends most of the book trying to incorporate into this new society by talking to experts in various fields. These talks can go on for dozens of pages apiece and are not exactly enjoyable reading. I was amazed at how Heinlein gave no explanation as to how and why Perry ended up in the year 2086. The characters just seem to accept it as fact, and yet they are fascinated by the finer points of economics and history.
These talks certainly made me think, although just about every prediction has been wrong thus far. It opens a window into an aging ideology that still holds much truth today, but misses the whole point of a novel: entertainment. Even though Heinlein was American, this book bares surprising similarities to my (stereotypical) concept of nineteenth and early twentieth century English literature. The characters always eat, smoke, or have a glass of wine before setting down to a nice scholarly chat. I am always surprised at how these English authors managed to make such amazing and wondrous tales so damn dry. I suppose now I should have a morbid fascination for Henlein too, as the only major differences are the sci-fi theme and a distinct lack of tea. The main selling point of “For Us, the Living” these days is its function as a key for many of Heinlein’s later books and ideas. Rabid Heinlein fans will enjoy it, but the casual reader searching for a weekend thrill should avoid this one.