The Adaptability Of Humanity.

It amazes me sometimes just how adaptable we are as a species at wilful ignorance. How attuned we are to compartmentalisation of issues that should impair our day to day lives. We seem to inherit this natural adaptive intuition, that allows us to consign the tribulations of the world to the deepest recesses of our minds, purely out of a desperate need to live. The news is saturated with the grim capitulation of our humanity. Wars and recessions. Greed and poverty. The anarchic dichotomy of our society that is seemingly always on the brink of collapse. And it’s fascinating being with my daughter in a public park, watching as she constructs these malformed sand castles and other elaborate structures, as if this was the most important thing in the world. How are we capable of tuning out the horrific tortures of this world? This question really is as rhetorical as they come, because the simple answer really is “because we have too”.

For the most part, I try to stay as oblivious to traumas that afflict the world as much as I can. I have a vague semblance of certain collateral problems that seem to thrust themselves into our daily lives, like that person that wants to talk about the latest Marvel excretion. Things like politically charged dissent. The perversions of some emboldened celebrity that’s been abusing their position. But for my own diminishing sanity, I have to be wilfully ignorant. Imagine waking up every day, pouring yourself a tea, or a coffee if you prefer. Waiting for your toast to, well toast, settling down to peruse social media for some irreverent humour, only to be inundated with the latest developments in the Ukraine, the murder of a toddler, the acquittal of purported sexual deviant and the sudden tax hike on Jaffa Cakes! How do you carry on your day with the accumulated knowledge of such deplorable misery, if you can’t separate it from your own life? Being so emotionally invested in every skirmish in the middle east would be exhausting as well as demoralising. And I think that’s why I play games.

Escapism is so beautifully encapsulated by these virtually generated worlds. Distractions that immerse you in these robust scenarios that provide a surrogate element of control, absent from our own complicated lives. There are objectives. Environments and scenarios radically different from our own that require our services. Any antagonistic threat’s are designed to be reconciled by our actions. As such we are provided with a guiding purpose from which to resolve these predicaments in fun, deferring ways. With the solutions to these conveyed tribulations, necessitating our involvement. Which does create the illusion that we can make a difference, even if it’s just in a fictionalised, artificially designed environment. But it is also a rejuvenating sabbatical from the harsh society we so often endure. And to me, the best kind of adverse problems are ones I can placate. Not ones out of my control.

Giga Chunk! The Size Of Game Installs.

Back in my day – an all too frequent expression for me these days – games came packaged with cartridges that contained all the necessary data to be played. No need for separate memory cards or external harddrive to enable the functionality of your games. Of course the industry has progressed beyond the limited capacity of these humble dust magnets, with the exigency of additional file storage required to expedite the obscene data consumption of modern games. Now even the most rigorous testing to isolate glitches, mitigate bugs and bolster optimisation often necessitates extensive post launch patches, that coerces players into becoming unwitting beta test participants. As a result these game installs swell to such an astronomical size, that it may demand a fastidious reorganization of your harddrive, with the possible deletion of data, to allow a game to run. Not to mention the time needed to download said content, which becomes a separate issue when your Wi-fi is slower than an asthmatic sloth. All of these factors combine to make modern gaming more protracted than it ever has been. Though “Star Wars Jedi: Survivor” is testing both your patience and your storage capacity like never before.

Having been delayed from its initial release back in March, to enhance performance and eradicate other stability issues (Time well spent it would seem). It was casually announced that the PC version would require a minimum of 155gb of space to run. With the Xbox X and PlayStation 5 iterations needing 134gb and 147gb respectively. Now considering a standard PS5 comes courtesy of 825 GB of internal storage, 158 GB of which is reserved for system files, so it’s more like 667 GB of space, that isn’t a lot. Now imagine if every game required a similar volume of data to play? You’d be able to store 4 games, with enough surplus capacity to install the gargantuan patch’s these barely functioning games will subsequently need just to function appropriately! That is an absurd expense to provide gamers with AAA quality content. It’s also not sustainable in a market that is so reliant on potential consumers having money, let alone navigate an already clustered storage system.

If you are anything like me then you probably insulate a few games that you know you will play again. So determining what games are expendable amongst a retinue of reliable titles is yet another agonising decision you have to make. And it isn’t that I have a personal vendetta against upgrading the capacity of my console at some point, to accommodate the thriving list of games in my catalogue, but for it to become such a necessity almost from the start is ludicrous. Which is where I believe Indie games capacity to afford us with less demanding restrictions but supplying quality and variety is a distinguishing benefit. A device like the Steam Deck facilitates this. A console of considerable versatility that can be upgraded to a capacity that supports a robust portfolio of independent titles. I’d argue that this is what this device was conceived for. With a market place stimulated by modestly sized games.

I believe we have reached an impasse with the bloated size of installs, that the industry is trying to resolve by expediting the need for cloud gaming. A solution that depends heavily on the speed, stability and reliability of a service that is anything but. And personally I want to be able to game regardless of my internet connectivity.

Why I Still Love Open-World Games.

Games have always been an escape from the labours of every day life. A respite from the scalding reprimands of your parents and their irascible need for you to go outside and socialize. The emergence of open world games only further enthused these diverting proclivities. For a game to facilitate such seemingly boundless opportunities for exploration, was such a liberating novelty. No longer impeded by the shackles of linear game design, the world was free to roam at your own incorrigible leisure. The ability to run without exhaustion, with no need for sustenance or rest is a freedom seldom permitted by our own restricted reality. Many of my sophomore gaming experiences were conducted within the realms of the open world. Whether it was the top down shenanigans of GTA or the iridescent vibrancy of a Tales adventure, these feasts of traversal are so rooted in our desire for exploration.

My family home was nothing special in regards to space. It was a very pleasant, though simple residential home. A 3 bedroom semi-detached with an adequate garden from which to embark on my own modest quests. What was remarkable to me was our house being perched on top of a rather large hill. From my window I was blessed with a tremendous vantage point from which to survey almost the entirety of the town centre, as well as the adjacent sport’s ground and the encompassing park. There was always a humbling sense of satisfaction being able to visualise a distinct spot that appeared so far away in the distance, that within less than an hour I could walk to, scan the horizon and observe the window I had previously devised my excursion. For me the satisfaction comes from the perception that I have travelled a great distance on my own little adventure. Sure, I’m not vanquishing trolls or bandits, but in my imagination I was most certainly on a pilgrimage. And I think it’s that sense of expedition that is replicated in open world games that makes them so compelling.

Now I may not be the biggest Assassin’s Creed fan, a statement that may alienate me somewhat amongst my peers. But you can’t deny the series zest for grandeur, lends itself well to player autonomy. Though more recent ventures have expanded the acreage of its world beyond its capacity to furnish these lands with any meaningful ventures for players to engage. They still provide fertile resources for players to observe. Structures far off in the distance that in time can be reached by whatever means suits your sensibilities. Visual markers to entice exploration. Not because you need to, but because you can. For me a good open world game emulates these real life compulsions. Because regardless of the abject story or the boring characters, at least there is still the potential to sate those inquisitive appetites for exploration. And if anything encourages us to explore our own neighbouring environment more readily.

So This Is My Life Now.

Like most teenagers, I was very messy. Maintaining a total disregard for the rigours of order and at times cleanliness. Discarded clothing strewn across my bedroom floor. The detritus of crumbs that clung to the carpet like they were embedded into the fabric itself. With the curtain’s perpetually drawn and the windows sealed, the room radiates with an oppressive quality. The lack of ventilation generated a smog-like climate within the confines of these four walls, with the only light being emitted by the glaring illumination of the television. Friday nights were a haze of cheap domestic beer, salty potato snacks and even saltier players being demolished in competitive Uncharted 2 online matches by a slightly inebriated, semi conscious man child. Okay, the last part is a bit of an exaggeration, but the point is that I wasn’t concerned with hygiene, diet or even basic motor function or cognitive stimulation. Now, in my mid 30’s, I find myself engaged in the most unlikeliest of games.

“Power Wash Simulator” brings all of the mundane excitement of spraying high pressured water at stained, highly congested areas of varied putridity. With each window, door, railing, partition or indeed Stegosaurus slide cleaned, brings you closer to 100% completion. With each objective satisfied, you earn revenue from your respective employer. Funds earned from these errands enable you to invest in upgraded power washers, nozzles, solvents and even cosmetics, to make subsequent jobs easier and more glamorous in appearance. Cleaning houses, Vans, Parks, Golf carts, Giant elaborate boots. All via the power of nature’s most sodden element. Now you’d think that a game conceived around the tedium of pressure washing driveways, an exercise my very spirit recoils in imagining let alone doing, would in fact be a muddling incongruity. Certainly not an appropriate means of relaxation to neutralise the rigours of our daily activities. But is actually a thoroughly compelling distraction.

Deciding the appropriate nozzle for the guttering. Locating that clandestine patch of dirt that prevents the satisfying *ding* that signifies it’s completion. Seeing the enormity of the job ahead of you, only to compartmentalise the problem with pragmatic planning, isolating specific sections into manageable targets. Slowly and methodically purging the environment of the stubborn grime that’s accumulated. Revel in the satisfaction of your convictions, to then be confronted by another congested maelstrom. Or perhaps the simple truth is that “Power Wash Simulator” exemplifies where I am I’m my life right now. So as you can imagine I’m hyped to move on too “Lawn Simulator” “Hanging Washing Simulator” and “Ironing Simulator”. Perhaps “Awkward Silence Between Your Partner Simulator”. Followed by “Sleeping Simulator”. God have mercy.

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What strange gaming habits have you developed as you have gotten older? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

The Power Of Music.

Music is a powerful stimulant. According to studies, music possesses intrinsic psychological benefits that help in supporting our own mental and emotional health. Boosting our mood, enhancing productivity and has also been claimed to encourage deeper, more restful sleep. Which could explain the therapeutic effect “Slipknot” has on my nocturnal rejuvenation. Serenading me to a wistful slumber. Music has such cathartic properties that are as unique and intimate as any family photo. Memories ingrained in the notes and compositions themselves, that elevate these sounds beyond the rudimentary perception of auditory gratification. To me there is nothing that possesses such emphatic nostalgia, as the “Donkey Kong Country” original soundtrack.

Having not heard any of the game’s melodious theme’s for almost a decade, I was immediately transported, almost violently so, to those care free days of adolescence where the most problematic issues were deciding what cereal to have for breakfast. Awash in the curative grasp of nostalgia, the comforting familiarity of the music, conjuring vivid images of my time traversing a tropical island as a barrel throwing gorilla, inexplicably sporting a bright red tie embroidered with the initials “D.K”. Hunting down the thieves that poached my vast banana supplies from the cavernous pantry under my hut. Incapacitating the litany of anthropomorphic crocodiles that hinder my progress, as well as crippling the passive wildlife that I encounter, by forcing them to be mounts for my rather dubious excuse to debilitate any indigenous life that has made the unfortunate decision to take a morning stroll. All with the complicit assistance of a cap wearing minor, in Diddy Kong. What this experience did, other than teach me just how violent the animal kingdom can be, is just how important music is to informing that experience. Especially at such an impressionable age.

Though almost every song sparks some kind of cognisant memory, whether it’s the rhythmic bongo’s in the opening level. The dynamic tension that was disseminated by the mine cart stage. Or even the jolly chirpiness of the final boss. It’s the transcendent beauty of the underwater stage that I find most potent. “Aquatic Ambience” has always been an evocative inspiration on my recollections. It’s soothing yet melancholic ambience, that belies the apprehension you experience navigating through this submerged labyrinth. There’s something hypnotic about this track. An ethereal longing that’s both comforting and isolating. As well as an extraordinary example of prestige gaming compositions. This song also has the unfortunate recognition of being a jarring parallel with my own parents separation. Though this would strike most people as a despondent association, it actually provides me with a lot of comfort too.

Hearing a song that sparks these kind of wistful memories makes you wonder if the games we play with our children, will inspire the same cognitive retentions. It does however remind you of your own mortality. Time seems to move differently as we get older. Perhaps it’s just are perception that does, but whatever the reason, these musical memories do abate the violent acceleration. If only for a short moment.