An Inherent Vice….City

Decisions, decisions. What does one do when faced with a such a privileged, consumerist predicament? Such as purchasing a remake smeared in perfunctory veneer that gives the impression of something refined, but ultimately winds up looking like someone has fired Homer Simpsons makeup gun at it? The remastered GTA trilogy couldn’t be more nostalgic for me if it came packaged with Power Rangers and Turkey Twizzlers. Nostalgia is an absurd affliction really. One that manifests as a powerful recollection of memories that can also contort those lucid, biased evocations. Like convincing you that the Chuckle Brothers were funny. When it comes to Vice City, a game that fully capitalises on that nostalgia, I’m not sure an updated version can live up to such wistful standards.

My appreciation for Vice City was somewhat tarnished when I attempted to play and subsequently rekindle some of that fading nostalgic whimsy a couple of years ago. With the antiquated controls being a harsh reminder of the game’s ageing mechanics. Not that the targeting system was anything methodical in the first place, but coalesced with the PS2 graphics and character’s awkwardly gesturing their hostile intent with boxing glove hands, does diminish the spectacle of a crime drama somewhat. But the setting, tone and character’s were as endearing as I remembered. So, if the new trilogy collection can renovate these deteriorating facets, which looks unlikely judging by what I’ve seen, while retaining the same vibe and aesthetic of the original, as well as populating the barren City with a few more low rendered pedestrians, then this might be an cash-grab remaster worth investing in. With the one notable caveat: the retention of the music.

My biggest concern is that licensing for the various 80’s tunes has lapsed, thus compromising the diverse, quintessential tracks that gave Vice City its arresting ambience. The soundtrack was such a salient representation for establishing the games tone, that if Rockstar is unable to retain the licensing I just don’t think the game can replicate that sense of nostalgic catharsis adequately without it. Even a condensed playlist would jeopardise the whimsy.

Chances are, if you never played the original game, you aren’t going to be bothered by a few, if notable omissions. But for those of us that experienced this, probably at an age you shouldn’t, I think any alteration to that original soundtrack is going to severely undermine your sentimentality.

The Worst Thieves In GTA V!

“In 2014, a crap commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they don’t remember commiting. These men promptly escaped from a minimum security stockade to the Los Santos underground. Today, still wanted by the government they survive as soldiers of fortune and narcissism. If you have a problem, if no one else is stupid enough to help and if you can find them……maybe you can hire The Ahh!-Team.”

Did GTA V Need A Next Gen Re-Release?

Glitz, Glamour And Platinum #20…..Almost

At the expense of much perishable time–much of which was allocated to subverted allocation of free time–I recently received my 19th Platinum trophy courtesy of Tales of Xillia. Please, please reserve your applauds and informal plaudits. Oh, you are. Well this Platinum, though tenuous at times was largely fun at around 75 accumulated hours and certainly an influential advocate for monetary restraint as your likely discover enough salient time to accomplish all the necessary accolades to achieve the Platinum. A cursory advisement that is always a consideration when acquiring any Platinum is at least a meagre deviation from your intimate proposed stipulations and some minor capitulations and compromises, though likely numerable alterations have to be applied in the procurement of trophies. But the most common attribution that can be derived from your resilient endeavours is repetition, often postured as “grinding”. It’s a lamentable parity affiliated with almost every game; collect specified antiquities, ascend to stipulated level, participate and win regulated events etc. But nowhere is the relinquishment of sanity and tenuous grinding more apparent than in my projected 20th Platinum trophy, GTA V.

You’d imagine that the on-line portion would be a personification of the singular brilliance of GTA V’s sardonic observations of modern recognition. The morose subjugation of the impoverished inhabitants, exacerbated by the extravagant disparity of glitzy Vinewood that looms over their corrugated habitations with strangulating earnest. The glamorised perception of fame coveted by so many vacuous cretins with aspirations of falsified notoriety, via exploitive TV shows such as “Fame or Shame”. The lavished extravagance of narcotics, the pervading infidelity and invasive conduct of the press are satirised with attentive accuracy. However none of these evocative observations overtures are accounted on-line, which diminishes the potency of the objectives which is primarily a compilation of mini games– and the acquirement of trophies that simply force you to perform the vapid tasks and recreational activities that no one wants to do. Participating in Golf is mildly entertaining, if irrelevant, sure. But to obtain the “Numero Uno” trophy for instance requires that you play–and win–at darts, the shooting range, arm wrestling and tennis? Tennis. In a GTA game! Really?! All these events are largely superfluous activities that people reluctantly sample, and quickly evacuated (not rectally…..I hope). Another Bronze trophy requires the auxiliary assistance of *sigh* other players, and you know how I feel about that sort of thing? Most of whom possess all the willing compliance of someone receiving a struggle cuddle. But the award for most derivative, protracted, elongated, obtuse, soul-destroying, grind, goes to…….(opens figurative envelope)…….”Above the law”. Congratulations you hermetic little annoyance, take a bow!

“OK Rooftop Rumble completed, time for the next mission which is……Rooftop Rumble?”

It’s not difficult to achieve level 100 in the conventional sense, there’s no reticulated barrier restricting me and not some masochistic boss that impedes my progress, but progressive fidelity becomes stifled by assertive repetition and linearity. When you’re relying heavily on your own conviction to succeed rather than the game enticing you to explore its concealed labours with your own collaborative volition, or probing affiliated forums for a concerted cheat that you can exploit that grants special dispensation, then you know you’re in trouble. You can’t detach yourself from the community to concentrate focus purely on development because the community is always there, probably right behind you attaching an incendiary device to the base of your $800,000 car! Even though engaging with other adversaries in competitive terms is suitably balanced, restricting the more financially robust philanthropists with a neutrality extending to the armaments so that individuals advanced repertoire of stylised logistics or personalised artillery are rendered negligible, but is largely bereft of incentive. The retention of RP (the commodity required for level development) is an according capitulation particularly exploited in Rooftop Rumble. Comprised of a simple shoot the bad guys, extract the required Intel for your client and successfully evading your aggressive perusers, thereby accumulating affluent financial compensation. “Great” I hear you rebuke, “what’s the issue?” Because its simply an alternate variant on a pre-existing grind, provoked by similarly established players hitting the restart button at the conclusion. And in fairness why shouldn’t they when other more aggravating and needlessly tenuous missions offer less compensation for your efforts.

“I think after playing Resident Evil 6 we can all agree, that Resident 5 wasn’t that bad.”

And it’s that contradictory subtext that remains a perpetual blemish for me. How can it be less profitable to procure a cargo carrier full of ballistics, guarded by a small militia, than beating a prostitute with a blunt phallic in some concealed alleyway? You maybe shocked to learn that GTA On-line has suffered from an abundance of problems, so I’m sorry for the clarification here. As a result–for the game to even function for longer than it takes flies to fornicate–RockStar have frequently released patches, or band-aids to stem the crimson coagulation from permanently staining their beautifully rendered city. As significant as these intervening patches have been, even bolstering the expansive range of vehicles, residencies and other amenities; each new update is usually accompanied by a clandestine limitation that reduces the applicable currency and experience received. It’s almost as though they want you to extend your funds by using real money? Say what you will about Resident Evil 5 (which I cite as one of my most enjoyable platinum’s), but for all its vocal criticisms it was a contrasting dynamic in comparison. Because for all of its erroneous fables, regulated repetition, the intentional mirroring of its predecessor and Jill’s (stupid!) blond follicles the attainment of accolades felt naturally progressive. You recouped them so regularly and consistently that its repetition was negligible in contrast to the evanescent sophistry of GTA. Their were no attenuated offline trophies like regulating a submersible to collect……toxic waste? Which was only suitably surpassed by the cranial haemorrhage caused by the monotony of assassinating 400 pigeons in GTA IV. Is it too much to ask that a game presents interesting trophies for me to collate and reward my continued patronage rather than inhibit it? Of course its my decision to collect these largely superfluous accolades and that its my own submissive narcissism that motivates me, and that’s partially affable. But complacency is inevitable too, especially in a game that relies repetition and on the enmity of greed and the consolidation of the mentioned sin…..So in actuality, the requisite grinding required to attain level 100 is rather applicable, unfortunately…..

What’s the most annoying grind you’ve ever experienced? And don’t say this article. Cheers.

Trust No One But Yourself!

The Death-match was over, and like former war veterans returning to battle ground to reminisce at bygone trauma sustained, we each surveyed the collateral damage that had severely depleted our respective arsenals. Grenades had been consumed barely half way into the encounter due to the fragmented, spacial concealment, omitted to prevent regularly occurring fatalities with grenades providing sustained durability against the restrictive proclamation of combatants. My primary assault rifle had exhausted a quarter of its originating ammunition too, with my pump-action shotgun faring just as empathetically. Preliminary numeracy calculated that fiscal allocation required to amend the deficit would be around $3,000. Not bad considering the advantageous result permitted such a lavish reimbursement of around $15,000. I may have to purchase that shirt I wanted? But retaining your acquired fortune represents temporary, but aggressive, invasive rectification from the losing side. Preliminary surveillance of the sometimes reclusive district, in this instance localised around a swamp with no immediate cover or accessible vehicles to enact an instinctive abdication from imminent danger. A partial glance at my spawning, potential antagonists and cursory assessment of my environment proved fortuitous as the nominal players (2) localised in close proximity to me were largely too distant to cause immediate concern. Mitigating the immediacy of your death is crucial, though largely fallible as the action of pacifying your opponents in menu select–unless instigated before a confrontation–can’t be immediately activated post game. So your temporarily left exposed to the dictating subsidiaries separated from a larger crew that could invariably leave you in a death paradox–constantly spawning and being killed before you can even select an appropriate weapon to retaliate. So I ran!

“Oh that wasn’t the me in the jet. Purely coincidental. Honest.”

The nearest available refuge lies imminently adjacent from me, a highway bridge partially obscured by some benign foliage that is little more than aesthetic nuisance rather than encumbering obstacle. As I begin to run, evasively weaving sporadically from left to right, rolling and jumping meekly to confuse any potential perusers, I’m duly focused on the securing prolonged sanctity and thus absent in the trajectory of another recluse cautiously seeking the same facilitation. It isn’t until I arrive at our mutual destination that we clarify each others intentions the only way you can in GTA; pointing guns at each other. It may seem derisive to insinuate that gamers intent is not always one of amicable courtesy and that indulging in games that permit discerning duplicitous individuals is hardly an affable commodity. But for me trust is an indelible fortitude. I coordinate with robust cynicism, sceptical of any affiliation that isn’t mutually beneficial and mistrustful of the humility of others. You become dejected by the recurring redolence of competitors goading barbs and the displaced loyalties, particularly the individuals that seldom deigned to occupy similar precise acumen, but instead rifle you as you ponderously walk away to other engagements, and then chastised you for your inferiority as they accelerate away in their modified Bugatti (Or Adder in GTA)! So I have every right to affirm the intentions of my dubious contemporaries. After considerable time, our respecting artillery were lowered and gestures of mutual civility were exchanged after any threats had been suitably neutralised and tranquillity amended. With limited access to any adequate vehicles other than a commandeered van with the approximate acceleration of congested snot, and my car–currently frequenting an insurance company (don’t ask), my new affiliation kindly offered to escort me away from the desolation of the current habitation, to which I anxiously complied.

“Take that Law enforcement!”

Things began promisingly enough. He appeared amiable enough, complicit in my navigations to retrieve my personal vehicle, humble in regarding his superior level by suggesting hours of diligence were required rather than owing his numerical ascension to skill. We discussed appropriate procedures that would be requisite to succeed in our preferred objectives, beguiled one another with mutual tales of gallantry and our valiant reprisals. Discussions continued through competitive matches, collaborating tactics in unison by correlating the salient cogency before actions were regimental clarified and applied. Conversions were both earnest and sometimes reticent, implemented with concerted parity and tending to our respective duties with amiable diligence. But there was something amiss? That his exuberant traits that excused his subverted eccentricity, that suggested infamy.Perhaps it was the sloping brow, the disconcerting features, the implicit continuation of cheesy radio stations or his willingness to publicly display his body with only his Trevor style underpants to conceal his delicate’s. Or perhaps it was during an intermission from our mission, we decided to gallivant on the beach close to the pier. Arriving in our respective vehicles we began to distribute mediated anarchy, you know minor misdemeanour’s such as driving erratically, shooting the ocean (take that water!). We frolicked and laughed, skipping merrily across the expansive beach, before the partial nudist chased down a terrified civilian, hit her with such force that she died, stooped over her lifeless body and making lurid, necrophiliac gestures. Then subsequently shoots ME, stealing MY car, briefly absconding with MY car before mowing me down and plunging MY car into the crests of the oceans embrace and fleeing to another game.

                              Yeah, come to think of it, that could why I shouldn’t have trusted him.

Have you wrongly trusted someone you shouldn’t have Online? Let me hear your experiences. Cheers.