Critically acclaimed artist responsible for stirring scores behind Dragon Age: Origins, Icewind Dale II, Baldur’s Gate II: Throne of Baal, Fallout 3 and many more will be composing an original score for studios n-Space and Digital Extremes upcoming project “Sword Coast Legends”.
AAAHHH! *flips table* It’s tough attempting to abate my outwardly valiant masculinity so as not to diminish the inclusion of other males from feeling diminutive in my manly presence. Such as watching all 6 Rocky movies in unison, whilst eating a bowl of glass that buoyant empathetically on a pool of nitrogen peroxide and devoured with an irradiated utensil. Yes the suppression of such hereditary gallantry is palpable and requires some clandestine aperture to ease the predatory intensity and impede the caustic testosterone that effuses through my herculean physique, that can provoke me to repeatedly pummel kittens. Gaming however, certainly stifles these combative exasperation’s. Gaming is very much geared towards the ordained perception that contemporary games solitary utility, stimulates the regressed primeval of Neanderthals that play them. Omitting liberal conventions of compassion and analytical diplomacy, for pestilent annihilation of civilians in the middle East and liberating our rights as men to project our own repressed need for explosions, thus reducing the docile feminine to the supportive damsels that urgently require domestication. Now this may seem like misogynistic exposition that categorizes our nihilistic presumptions, but games certainly perpetuate and promote the ideology of male chauvinism as commercially acceptable, which falsely contradicts the overlaying fact that female gamers are ruthless!
Woman posses some incredibly abundance of residual concentration, as opposed to men who demonstrate vocalised antagonism, with some of the most formidable female adversaries, audit cordial greetings and exhibit tones of submissive docility that deceptively shroud their introverted ferocity, before unleashing apocalyptic defilement with simulated castration of my genitalia. To experience such a pronounced violation certainly sedate’s the attenuated premise that a very masculine endorsed industry conveys. A man considers a console control to emulate as an extension of his genitalia, which in most instances is a grossly falsified exaggeration to its anatomically inferior contemporary. The vanity of a male mind is to bask in adulation of our achievements, and to suffer the indignity of defeat with humility and magnanimous grace (by which I mean biting the controller). You get the immediate impression that some advertisers would be dumbfounded by the discovery that…*stifles a choke* woman play games?! “Wait a minute; you have boobs, where trousers and posses a vaginal cavity, and you play games? What an absurd notion!” The notion of gaming being dominated by a largely masculine audience is a falsity, as is our unifying reason for indulging in simulated adventures.
I’ve always believed that gaming is a promotion of emulation, encouraging us to manipulate characters we wish we could be, experiencing adventures we wish we could imitate as though games represent a more attractive distraction from the banality of life. While there is an element of truth to the consensus of distracting escapism–one to which I have accredited to my own involvement–it’s also a broadened definition. Sure you want to portray the courageous hero, saving the world from imminent destruction from some villainous antagonist, but I doubt that anyone, of any physiological specificity has played Call of Duty has stated “Wow, I’d love to be involved in this conflict.” Or scoured the wastes of Washington DC in Fallout 3 and thought “What a great place this would be to live in.” No, that inanimate device is our best friend we covet, not for a greater sense of importance or the solace of antipathy for social confrontations, but a perpetual friend that preserves your sanity from the platitude of boredom. It’s that manly, man, grr thing we do. Generally being a male gamer is much like this protracted article; incoherent, permeated with contradictory statements that are wholly dependant on our own frenetic supposition to inform our conclusions. There’s an entire market geared towards naivety and suggestion, which are–let’s face it lads–perfect narration for the male psychosis.
What does gaming mean to you? Let me know. Cheers.
Sun, chloride infused pools, crisp and cool to the touch, purifying your shattered soul, reclining contentedly by the exquisite liquid gently rippled by the ambiguous encouragement of the elements. There’s a pronounced timidness to the unfamiliar surroundings and distinct reservations to the pleasantries exchanged between the locals and foreign infiltrators, consumed with the outward lust for their frequently nourished environments while regarding the natural vibrancy with wary reverence. Cocktails, beers and all manner of elixirs with a veritable rainbow of vibrant colours, complementing the hallucinogenic applications of these magical narcotics, all of which are readily consumed with excessive yearnings. Not to mention the exotically attired woman who barely registered with any fervent visual acknowledgement from my horizontally reclined position, only subtlety observed by myself and discussed in passing with other, charming gentleman as we maintained consistent respectful acknowledgement by averting our peripheral sight from their alluring figures–for the most part at least. The general purpose for our visit to Cyprus of course was to absorb the nourishment of this hospitable climate, retain as much free (a word I can’t emphasis enough) food and drink until our throats became swelled and confused by the obscene regularity at which meat and whiskey courted it, but most importantly, this vacation was an opportunity to repress life’s resilient mundane persuasion, and remember the harmony of adolescence, when the worlds troubles, where someone else’s.
After a meandering journey via all manner of transmitting vehicles, the holiday began in traditional foppish, British style; with one member of our intrepid group misplacing his key to his suitcase. Though such a triviality was soon remedied by another of our acolytes, who with delicate precision and professionalism almost caressed the aforementioned lock open with a hair pin, before owing his generous skill to Fallout 3. I would like to continue temporarily in a negative manner, purely to satisfy my naturally argumentative disposition by explaining that Cyprus is also renowned for harbouring what is colloquially known as the “Cats of Cyprus”, which you quickly ascertain is largely consisted of stray, mangled, under-nourished excuses for felines, with follically indifferent fur, lethargic almost painful mobility, caused by some form of debilitating infection or defensive encounter with another feline, instigated through its own ravenous folly. But this really was the conspicuously curly follicle, in an otherwise succulent dish which included the obligatory excursion to a water park with all its hydrating rejuvenation that quells the tide of perspiration.
The highlight of this particular excursion was participating in an inadvertent 4 way race down slippery incline, with our diminished responsibility left in the confines of the slide, water-repellent mat and gravity. Only to witness my significant other plummeting down this steep precipice, descending at such accelerated pace that she completely obliterated the competition and almost her skull in the process as she clashed head first into the buoyancy of a floatation device at the end, almost accelerating at a speed of 88 mph, leaving a trail of illuminating embers behind and simultaneously ascending through time! (Great Scott indeed!). There were prosperous receptions as we revelled in satisfaction at our superior intellect, when our quiz team (Quiz on my face) pummeled the opposition into submission with our astounding varied knowledge, such as my Sage like presence that bestowed our team with victory in the “advancement of astrological particles and their usage” category. Or was that the TV themes category? Cyprus is also the home of Aphrodite, the god of love. So of course the island barters with the usual assortment of paraphernalia, such as a certain male appendage–or whatever suitable definition you care to use–all in variety of sizes and girths, with various usage in those everyday encumbrances that petulantly obstruct us. “Can’t access the sweet beverage encased in your bottle? Then fear not my trusted ally, for I possess something of great interest for you, concealed in my conspicuously large pocket. Yes, a bottle opener adorning my large, wooden, ornamental penis!”
Aphrodite continued presence appeared to have a lustful impact on the indigenous people too, though it particularly afflicted the respective wildlife as I inadvertently witnessed copulation between two flies. The countries expressive courtship aside, my eventual return home largely consisted of stifling a grimace of apprehension at leaving such a vibrant country, with a population that garnish you with civility that truly humbles you. The fragility of your emotions after such an indulgent excursion is palpable, that reality deems suitable to fracture. But it’s with a swelled, though content digestive system and temporary immunity to the crippling side effects of alcohol, that I sit humbly reflecting on the week’s events, observing the slowly forming ice crystals, delicately caressing the aeroplane windows as the curvature of the world begins to flatten as the aircraft pivots and turns to make its final descent. Though it’s comforting to be reunited with my betrothed (my PS3), it’s difficult not to look back with wistful reverence. I used to believe that life is just a series of distractions, purposefully designed to prevent us from gaming, know I realise that sometimes life has other things to show you.
Apologies for the crudity of this article, as well as the lack of visual stimulus, but technology appears to resent my current musings. When technology and I have met and sorted this discourse, I will endeavour to correct this oversight. Cheers.
Also, I’m hoping my next article will reflect what this site was originally intended for, gaming.
Glitches have become a significant occurrence in the gaming industry, one that many of us have adapted to accept, and for much of it, obtuse sensibilities is a satisfying deterrent, until the little bugs and glitches that were once irrelevant and unassuming, suddenly become more pronounced and insipid. It’s an unconscious sensation, born out unbeknownst resentment. Vaguely tolerable circumstances that you barely comprehended before, are suddenly infuriatingly clear. You maintained a constant vigilance on accomplishing your required conclusion, that any deviation was of a secondary concern. But somehow, through some kind of desperate, inconceivable notion to disappoint, Bethesda created glitches beyond the simple pails of this world. Somehow procuring the aid of Lucifer himself in the creation of some of the most conceptually genius creations, and transforming them into heinous acts of ignorance and callous stupidity, unheard of since the city of Troy graciously accepted the Trojan horse with great sincerity, from the apparent generosity of the Greeks, rather than adopt a sense of speculative curiosity and inspect their newly acquired trophy.
That’s what their games should be to them, trophies. Such a blatant disregard for quality is so apparent that its offensive. It’s as though Bethesda, nearing the completion of their products, as the game testers are reciting the numerous, amalgamated errors that need adjusting or just neutralised entirely. Bethesda rapidly place their ignorant fingers into their ears, in an attempt to disregard the countless faults. Fallout 3 was derided for its inconsistencies on the PS3 on initial release. From blurry textures, infinite cap bugs (useful, but inappropriate) and general freezing which accompanies so many games, but nothing truly detrimental to your progress. Fallout: New Vegas, which was arguably more enjoyable than its predecessor, but its enduring legacy will be far less grandeurs than the vast desolate land it conveyed. Bethesda failed, or indeed ignored the crippling glitches that were so blatant in Fallout 3, and instead decided to puncture widening, penetrative holes into their credibility.
Tarnished by more punctual proficient, glitches that would persuade a rehabilitated drug addict to relapse. New Vegas was a haven for Doctors with necks of such flexible dexterity, that their face can perform a 360 more efficiently, that even an owl would hoot in approval. Riddled with textural anomalies, characters seemingly typing on ghostly typewriters, moon walking hounds, or inexplicable, visual misdemeanors that culminate in you plummeting into randomly recurring vortexes, that leave you spiralling helplessly into pixellated oblivion. But readers who regularly frequent my blog will already be well aware of both my admiration, and disdain that I possess for Skyrim. The grievances and misdemeanors perpetrated by this potential game of the year, are beyond reprehensible.
Bethesda’s inefficiency to craft a game without incessant glitches is one thing; you learn from your mistakes and move on, but you don’t then continue to incorporate the same obtrusive monstrosities, so conspicuously apparent throughout previous titles. Your tolerances are further tested, when reducing the space on your PS3 to accommodate Skyrim, is the equivalent of trying squeeze Antony Worrall Thompson into a pint glass. But you carry on regardless, hoping beyond all reasonable hope for a reprieve, stubbornly persevering, scouting for any tangible clarity amongst a the siege of pixellated travesties, determined to succeed despite the fragmented world seemingly crashing around my Nord. I’m not aggrieved by the discernible lack of content available, I couldn’t be more indifferent about the eventual release of Dawnguard; just grant me a world without slain, enemies torso’s that periodically spasm, dragons flying in reverse, or having to reload to the game due to the unforseen complications when attempting to access a door!
Many of the most notable lags and glitches have now been removed from these games (though Skyrim is still far from perfected), with no discernible effects on gameplay, but this it what it should have been like to begin with. Perhaps I’m just venting concentrated frustration, and demonstrating a merciless assessment, of an undoubtedly talented developer, but I would be surprised if I was the only one throughly exasperated* by Bethesda lethargic approach.
(Or conversely, replace this word with a profanity of your choice.)
How have you been affected by glitches? Or can you ignore them? (If so, please tell me how!)
Recoiling my time with Fallout 3 is reminiscent of watching a great movie that you forgot even existed. You quickly extract vivid images from your extensive memory, and once again become captivated by its forgotten genius, but unlike a classic movie, your subconscious also conjures up the enormous sense of despondency you endure, from the games extensive dilemmas. This is Fallout 3, an immersive world teething with dangers, not just from mutated insects, rodents and even humans, but also from the harsh and highly radioactive environment that is the Capital Wasteland, but equally sullied by its well documented problems. The question is, is Fallout 3 still playable? Well the answer is simply, Yes.
Ok, there are issues, the very same contentions we all remember, but there not as glaringly obvious as they appeared in hindsight, nor nearly as frequent. Glitches and other nuances have become unfortunately affluent in many of Bethesda’s titles, although it harbours many bugs, it doesn’t contain the same crippling defects associated with both New Vegas and Skyrim, which symbolizes that Fallout 3’s problems are rendered somewhat obsolete, in comparison to its successors.
Fallout 3 has never been a visually appealing RPG, opting for every shade of green and grey conceivable, but in a world as ravaged and somewhat desperate as the one conveyed here, it should come as no surprise that you’re not carelessly skipping through beautiful green fields, inhabited by rainbow coloured unicorns, (what a tender world that would be?). So in that respect, the graphics play a minute part in this games overall appeal, although its fair to suggest that it’s aged about as well as a Dorian Gray portrait. But where Fallout flourishes, is in its ability to keep you hooked in its own singular fashion.
As with many (if not all) Bethesda titles, the only way to travel is in first person, as switching to third person perspective will leave your character to skirt across the Capital Wasteland like an inebriated contestant, participating in Dancing on Ice. The detailed post apocalyptic, Washington is still as perilous as I remember, with dangerous Raiders as well as the aforementioned grandeurs creatures, which continually lurk throughout the city and the surrounding areas, being your main distractions. But taking advantage of the V.A.T.S is still as equally satisfying, as you watch in satisfied elation, as the dismembered heads of your enemies slowly ascend through the air, like a well struck Nadal forehand in slow motion. Fallout 3 is still a challenging proposition, which can leave you frustrated at points, but never feels unfairly balanced, not to mention the rather peculiar nod to heavy metal band, Fear Factory (if your unsure of what I mean, then check out the computer in the “Museum of Technology”). The plot is mediocre, neither absorbing nor reprehensible, just ok, and the sense of desperation that smothers almost every aspect of Fallout 3, can feel a little overwhelming, but once you’ve become accustomed to the dark overtones, you soon uncover why Fallout 3 can be an obsession.
Exploring ever inch of this depleted land, scavenging for supplies such as ammo and caps, or simply blasting copious amounts of Super Mutants into extravagant, rain-soaked glory, is what makes this game compelling. The freedom and the sense of control can not be understated, just the ability to arrogantly stride across the Waste’s like an Armageddon esq Clint Eastwood, is a novelty that feels continually satisfying (A Fist Fall of “Caps” perhaps?).
Overall, Fallout 3 is an absorbing but flawed experience, but in many ways is a more accomplished and fluid RPG than the subsequent titles that have followed, including Skyrim! The diverse range of Weapons and quests will suitably pacify, even the most demanding of completest, and is somewhat more enjoyable than my original play through. The enormous sense of isolation in this vast, but barren environment, can feel unnecessarily bleak at times, but that is one of Fallout 3’s, more subtlety attractive propositions, that your being totally absorbed into a reality that could credibly happen.
Have you played Fallout 3 recently? Let me know what you think of it.
I hate Glitches, for me there is nothing more frustrating than gaining huge strides in a game, finally thwarting the terrible doom about to befall the unsuspecting habitants of….wherever, when your character freezes, as does the world around you, as though there has been some form of incursion from a virtual extremist prepared to punish you for your gaming wrong doings. What is decidedly more annoying however is discovering that you haven’t saved your immense expedition for about half an hour, leaving you to utter an obscene amount of expletives until your colorfully creating your own unique cusses, most of which don’t necessarily constitute as expletives, but due to the severity of the anger that has suddenly consumed you. Don’t be too surprised when your local PC comes tapping at your door. “Dont worry officer, I was merely yelling abuse at my Playstation”. There have been many examples of this particular catastrophic failure in many of my gaming experiences over the years, but for almost every instance I have always persevered and have succeeded in my eventual conquests, and feeling exceedingly magnanimous in my eventual victorys………..except for one, Fallout New Vegas.
Fallout 3 was a huge, albeit desecrated environment, with an almost endless plethora of quests to keep you distracted as well as the linear main quest you can drop in and out of, but it was plagued by insistent glitches that constantly hindered your enjoyment of a truly enterprising game. But its follow-up, Fallout: New Vegas, NEW VEGAS!!!! *shakes fist furiously*. New Vegas is the most narcissistic game ever devised! Developed in the bowls of Lucifer’s bread bin and created by Hitler himself (I think?). How could a well-respected developer such as Bethesda allow such a catastrophic abomination to reach its devoted fan base. Ok, I understand the immense amount of grafting that goes into a game as ambitious as New Vegas, and its near impossible to flush out every glitch that will regularly occur, but come on, surely you can’t miss this many, can you?
For example, check out the picture at the top of your screen; seen it? Confused? Well let me explain. After leaving the Mojave Outpost I began to the descend the hill cautiously due to the hive of scorpion activity around the area, when I became un-expectantly trapped between a handful of stones. As I was struggling to free myself from these new unexpected fiends, I then began to plummet into a never-ending pixellated pit, blissfully watching the world around me ascend above. How has such a mistake been missed by the developer? It just seems lazy. I know that since New Vegas release Bethesda were quick to respond to the overwhelming problems that fans stumbled upon (freezing, corrupted game saves etc), and yes, a few technical errors are acceptable in a game as vast as Fallout, I’m not completely heartless. Issues with out of sync conversations should be considered as collateral damage, but falling feet first in to the depths of a virtual black-hole, really is unforgivable.
Fallout New Vegas is a thoroughly enjoyable expedition (and in my opinion) more fun than Fallout 3, it’s just that attempting to complete it is the equivalent to trying to win the marathon with a broken leg, achievable, but painful. Patient gamers will find more reward from Vegas than I did, because I truly HATE glitches.
Check out the link to watch a handful of the glitches rife within New Vegas, its freakin funny too.