Anyone who has attempted to acquire a Platinum trophy, will testify to how exceedingly exhausting the process can be. The Patrick Jane like acuity needed to determine the most proficient means of gaining these prizes with the minimum of repetition, adopting a hermit persuasion to snare the more resilient accolades, and the necessary skill and the ability to deter cognitive deterioration caused by the seemingly unobtainable trophies, that persistently elude you like the digesting of processed horse meat in your local Tesco’s beef burger (other proprietors are available). But on occasion it’s not the difficulty of the trophy that prevents you from amassing an extended collection of Platinums, but the ludicrous absurdity of some of the less apprised possessions.
Bronze trophies are the natural result of progression of a game, the simplest of tasks are rewarded with that little chime and meager the possession of the top, right side of the screen. Ding! You discovered this destination. Ding! You acquired a hidden treasure. Ding! You pressed a button on your Playstation, and well you get the idea. Many of the Bronze trophies serve as a distraction to assure you that you are making progress with your chosen exploits and ensure safe, progressive passage through. Their hardly difficult acquisitions, they should be readily obtainable, most without prior consensual digressions, or through randomly occurring events. But sometimes these insignificant panderings require incredulous patience, and in my case, the manipulation of a glitch to obtain.
Recently, in nostalgic fascination, I purchased the Ratchet & Clank HD collection, which to my surprise has aged like a Helen Mirren wine, encased in the arctic ice, preserved with unblemished results (in other words well, if you’re a little confused by this admittedly, misleading 
analogy), but the one figurative obstruction that prevented that Ding of satisfied credibility, that can only be obtained from acquisition of a platinum (or sexual congress with Kat Denning’s) was the arbitrary, and distinctly malicious Bronze, that was necessary for the above confirmation. This one, seemingly modest trophy required a glitch to achieve. The defendant in question required me to accumulate 1,000,000 bolts, which for those unaffiliated with R&C, is the fictional currency used to purchase numerous, elaborate destructive weaponry. Which is ultimately achieved with a suitably resilient Playstation capable of enduring an extended, 7 hour application, a suitable controller resistant to repetitive strains by continued diligence from an exceedingly weighty dinosaur cereal bowel, acquired from a museum specifically constructed for the education of paleontology, that could evenly distribute pressure to the appropriate button, all whilst I slumbered, presumably dreaming of more consequential use of my time/life.
Without elaborating further (for your own benefit you understand), it was a gratuitous and tedious expenditure of time, electricity and my sanity, but seemingly the only justification to avoid unnecessarily tedious repetition of a game I love. I verbalised many baffled expletives, all expressed because of a bronze that seems superfluously difficult in the context of your objectives, there just seems to be little logistical continuity?! Many trophies are dependant on your own tolerances, and the perpetual reluctance you’ll likely encounter as you progress. With Silver’s, you expect to achieve with relative ease with only moderate inconveniences, Golds by their very definition require more meticulous command to obtain, integrated to challenge your resolve with standardised pressure. So why is it some bronze trophies, much like the one I’ve referenced with numerous displays of folly, and particularly in regards to online trophies which are equally restrictive in design, requiring a level of dedication few possess, are so masochistic to retain?
Have you had trouble with trophies/achievements that felt harsh? Or do you skip such accolades in favour of gameplay? Let me know what you guys think.
