2541: Farewell

This is my last daily post on this blog, to coincide with the last hour of the last day of 2016. I’m not going to rule out posting on here again when I feel like it, but this is the last of my daily entries. I feel that the exercise has run its course, and I’m definitely satisfied with what I’ve accomplished over the last 2,541 days.

Why am I stopping now? Well, it’s part of a broader plan I outlined a few days ago. I want to unplug and get away from the constant noise of online culture in 2016. It stopped being fun a good while ago — roughly coinciding with the rise of the outrage brigade who love nothing more than using their social media clout to shame people for enjoying “problematic” material — but it’s also been becoming increasingly apparent that the reasons I’ve been keeping my social media accounts active for as long as I have simply don’t seem to be the reasons other people keep them active.

On previous occasions when I’ve considered deactivating my Facebook and Twitter accounts — Facebook in particular — the thing that has always stopped me is the thought that “oh, people won’t be able to get hold of me easily, since everyone uses Facebook nowadays rather than anything else.” But over time it’s become apparent that while everyone does indeed use Facebook, pretty much the last thing they use it for is keeping in touch with other people. Rather, the inherent encouragement of narcissism in modern social media encourages people to post everything about their lives — or rather, everything in a heavily edited, idealised version of their lives — in an attempt to make other people feel like they should be having more fun/sex/babies/delicious meals/strong opinions about Donald Trump. And while that occasionally leads to heated debates in comment sections, it very rarely seems to lead to good conversations.

Twitter comes at it from a different angle. I’ve heard Twitter described as being like going to a party where everyone is shouting things at the room in general hoping other people will come and join the conversation, and that’s a fairly apt description. The particular trouble with Twitter is that its original selling point — its 140-character limit, intended to encourage people to “microblog” rather than post walls of text — isn’t conducive to nuanced discussion and debate, which leads to particularly obnoxious behaviour when people of differing ideologies and/or opinions about which anime girl is hottest come into contact with one another.

In short, I’ve been finding social media to be more trouble than it’s worth, so I’m unplugging from the noise in the hope that those people who do value my friendship will make use of other, more private and personal means of contacting me rather than everything being aired in public. And this blog comes under that header, too.

This blog has been valuable “therapy” for me over the course of the last few years, which have been, to say the least, rather challenging and difficult for a variety of reasons. I’ve faced many obstacles — some of my own creation, some by other people being colossal jackasses and my not really having any power to do anything about that — and, while I wouldn’t say my life is where I want it to be in the slightest, I feel that I’ve grown stronger as a person as a result.

But I feel like I need to start a new chapter. Leave behind the past, and look forward to a hopefully brighter future. It’s not easy to shed emotional baggage — not to mention the physical baggage that mental stress can leave you with — but severing my ties with the past, be they social media accounts or indeed this blog, feels like the right thing to do right now.

I’m not disappearing entirely, mind you; as I mentioned in my previous post, I still intend to keep writing weekly on MoeGamer, which will become my main place to write about games I’ve found particularly interesting or exciting, so I encourage you to subscribe over there if you like what I’m doing. And for more general writing, I’m starting up a weekly TinyLetter — effectively a small-scale mailing list — for personal notes to those of you who have been kind enough to show me friendship and support over the last few years. If you’re interested, you can sign up for that here. (Those of you for whom I have email addresses already, I’ll be taking the liberty of signing you up automatically at some point on New Year’s Day; I hope you don’t mind, and if you do, please rest assured that if you decide you don’t want to receive my notes, you can unsubscribe easily.)

Aside from that, though, at this point in my life I feel like broader Internet culture just doesn’t hold the value it once did for me, so out the window the unnecessary crap goes for 2017. I’m not encouraging any of you to follow my lead and I’m certainly not casting any judgement on those of you who still find value in social media and Internet culture at large; I’m simply saying it’s not for me, and explaining where I’ll be going if you do want to find me.

If you’d like to stay in touch more privately, please either subscribe to my TinyLetter — which you can reply to just like a normal email — or drop me a message via my Get In Touch page with your email address and/or any other contact details you’d care to share.

For those who have supported this blog for any period of time — be you lurker or regular commenter — thank you, good night, and I wish you a happy, healthy and hearty New Year. Here’s to 2017 being a better year for everyone.

2540: Royalty Free

I was surprised to discover that a device exists purely for the purpose of streaming shit music into shops.

Actually, let me correct that: a device exists purely for streaming royalty-free music into shops. There’s a good reason for this, of course: music in the background generally makes for a livelier, more pleasant atmosphere, but not all businesses find it practical or desirable to pay up for PRS and suchlike in order to use copyright-protected music, and as such we have the rise of the royalty-free artist and their music to fill this apparent gap in the market.

The aforementioned device isn’t, shall we say, a perfect bit of kit; the available music on offer is relatively limited, and its shuffle algorithm is so unsophisticated that it’s not at all unusual to hear the same song five or more times over the course of a single hour, but it does at least perform its basic function reasonably effectively. And more to the point, through a bit of the old Stockholm Syndrome, finding yourself in an environment where this nonsense is all you are able to listen to means that after a while you might actually start liking some of these songs.

Songs like Kady Z’s Game Over.

Or indeed Kady Z’s Beautiful Disaster — apparently Kady Z, whom I had never heard of prior to actually investigating the dreadful but catchy lyrics to Game Over, is pretty much the queen of royalty-free music.

Interestingly, of all the musical monstrosities that belch forth from the aformentioned streaming box, Kady Z’s are the only ones that I seem to be able to find easily on the Internet. I’m sure the others are out there somewhere, but Game Over is the only song I’ve so far managed to find by Googling the one line of the lyrics I can actually remember. (“Game over, you and me, game over, finally free.”)

All this is perhaps because in particular the two songs I’ve mentioned above I actually don’t mind all that much. As I say, that may well be the Stockholm Syndrome talking, but from a bit of additional cursory research this evening, Kady Z appears to be 1) quite attractive and 2) actually not a terrible pop artist either, seemingly drawing influences from a number of other artists including Ke$ha (most apparent in Game Over), Katy Perry and numerous other “upbeat white chick” kind of affairs.

I wouldn’t say she’s a particular artist I’m going to rush out and buy all the albums of, but sometimes it’s kind of nice to accidentally stumble across some reasonably inoffensive new music that’s a bit outside the mainstream pop charts, which remain mostly dominated by bullshit these days — yes, I am getting old, and I’m not at all ashamed of it.

So there you have it. Make an hour-long playlist with Game Over in it at least five times punctuated by other stuff and you, too, can experience roughly what my day has been like.

2539: Hipster Coffee

I was a little early going into town for work this morning, so I stopped for a coffee. The Starbucks I usually stop at was pretty heaving, so I went over the road to a place that has relatively recently opened but which I hadn’t tried before: an apparent chain (I’ve seen at least two in various parts of Southampton) called Coffee #1. And I think it’s the most hipster place I’ve ever been in.

If I were to say the words “hipster coffee shop” to you, picture what you think I mean for a moment. Chances are you’re imagining a place with wooden floors, eclectic art lining the walls and overly familiar, jocular writing on the menu. And, of course, lots of 20-year old mean with beards and overly elaborate moustaches browsing Instagram on their iPads. And blue-haired, slightly overweight women staring morosely at their mobile phones, flipping idly through social media rather than actually talking to the person sitting across the table from them.

Coffee #1 was exactly like this, and then some. The art on the walls seemed to have no coherent theme whatsoever, running the gamut from an enlarged diagram of how to correctly hitch a horse to a post to framed covers of Tintin comics and Tolkien novels. The furniture wasn’t much better; I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a single matching chair in the entire place. And this wasn’t the case that you find in some coffee shops where maybe a chair breaks so they have to bring out an “emergency chair” from the back room to fill a gap; no, this seemed like a distinct effort to make everything mismatched. It was sort of impressive in a faintly insufferable sort of way.

Coffee #1 wasn’t a bad place to go for coffee by any means; the coffee itself was nice and at least came in proper mugs rather than artisanal blown glass jars or something, but the whole experience I had while I was there was just one of the place itself trying far too hard. “Look at me!” it seemed to say. “I’m quirky and kooky and wacky!” It felt like whoever had designed the chaotic aesthetic of the whole place was desperately trying to ensnare to coerce the millennial market into coming for a cup of overpriced, overly complicated coffee while taking selfies with their insufferable friends to plaster all over an Instagram feed that no-one in their right mind would give a shit about, regardless of how many cat GIFs and screenshots of the Notes page on their iPhone featuring supposedly profound “showerthoughts” they interspersed their irrepressible narcissism with.

Entertainingly, I got the distinct impression that the staff at Coffee #1 were a little weary of the whole thing, too. The woman serving me wandered off to take a piss (in the toilet, thankfully, at least I assume that’s where she went) halfway through taking my order, and the guy who appeared to be in charge looked a little flustered, to say the least. I’m not sure whether this was simply a side-effect of the Christmas rush (which I can attest to as being exhausting) or if working in an environment that practically screams “ME! ME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK HOW QUIRKY I AM!” simply fatigues the mind after a while.

Either way, I’m not averse to going back to Coffee #1 again in the future, since the important part of its service — y’know, the coffee — was nice enough and no more obnoxiously priced than its peers. The mismatched, chaotic decor didn’t even really bother me that much, despite the words I’ve expended describing it above — it was simply rather striking, since it was my first visit. It all just seemed like rather a lot of wasted effort — and believe me, to ensure that every single chair in your establishment doesn’t match any other chair in your establishment has to take a certain amount of effort — when I can’t help but feeling most people would be happy with comfy chairs, muted and relaxing decor, and perhaps some light, calming music playing in the background.

And good coffee, of course.

2537: Treasure Tracker

I started playing a game I’ve been meaning to check out for a while today: Captain Toad Treasure Tracker, a spin-off title from one of the Wii U’s best games, Super Mario 3D World, and a fantastic game in its own right.

For the unfamiliar, Captain Toad is based on the occasional levels in Super Mario 3D World where instead of controlling Mario, Luigi, Toad and/or Princess Peach, you take on the role of Captain Toad, an intrepid explorer from the Toad race who is carrying so much crap in his backpack he can’t jump. Consequently, his means of navigating levels is very different from the relatively conventional platforming of Super Mario 3D World’s regular levels, and his stages tended to be rather more puzzly in nature.

Captain Toad Treasure Tracker takes the idea of these stages and builds a whole game out of them. With each stage being formed as a three-dimensional diorama, usually in a cube shape, you need to carefully navigate Captain Toad around and rotate the camera in all directions to find hidden items and passageways as well as determine the best way to proceed.

Captain Toad Treasure Tracker features a great deal more variety in its stages than the Captain Toad stages in Super Mario 3D World, and in true Mario game tradition there are a wide variety of unique mechanics and gimmicks that are introduced and explored in a couple of stages before being set aside before they wear out their welcome. Powerups from Super Mario 3D World put in an appearance, too, most notably the cherries which spawn a clone of your current character, which you then control simultaneously with your original one. You’ll then be tasked with navigating these characters together in such a way that you do things like simultaneously press switches or proceed down two separate routes at the same time.

In true Nintendo tradition, there are several degrees of depth that you can play the game in. At its simplest level, you can make your way through Captain Toad by simply determining the path to the star that completes the stage. Then there are three hidden gems in each stage, and finally a hidden bonus objective. Not all of these objectives need to be completed at the same time or even in a single playthrough, but they add a great deal of depth and replayability to the levels.

Most of all, though, Captain Toad Treasure Tracker is simply an utterly charming game that doesn’t have a drop of maliciousness or cynicism about it whatsoever. It’s endearing, cheerful, colourful and relaxing to play, and already, after just 11 stages (out of a reported 70+) it’s becoming one of my favourite Wii U games that I’m very much looking forward to getting stuck further into.

2536: NES Remix and the Art of Good Game Design

Still on a Nintendo kick at the moment. I’ve been playing a fair amount of NES Remix on Wii U, a rather peculiar package that consists of an enormous number of bite-size challenges based on a variety of Nintendo’s old 8-bit NES games.

Structurally, it’s rather like a mobile game in that each level tends to take less than a minute to complete, and upon completion you’re graded between one and three stars, which are subsequently collected and used to unlock further challenges.

The rating system isn’t needlessly complicated, however; you get one star just for clearing the challenge, even if you ran out of lives and had to continue partway through a multi-stage task; you get two stars for clearing the challenge without using a continue; and you get three stars for clearing the challenge without using a continue and within a (hidden) par time. (You can also attain “rainbow stars” for each challenge by beating an even tighter par time, but these are purely for your own satisfaction; they don’t count as extra stars as far as the game is concerned.)

The genius of NES Remix is that it teaches you to play all of these old games as you go, and it does so without using any hand-holding tutorials whatsoever. Rather, with each of the games in the package, it starts you off with simple tasks and gradually advances you to more complex, multi-stage challenges. And once you’re done with all that, the “Remix” and “Bonus” stages provide their own twists on the classic NES games in all manner of ways, perhaps by mashing up characters from one game into the levels of another, or by doing weird things with the visuals, or by making you play the game upside down or back to front.

What NES Remix successfully does is revitalise every game it incorporates — even those which, when played in their original forms, would look a little tired and primitive now. By trimming the experience down to less than a minute rather than expecting someone to play, say, an entire round in Golf, or a complete game in Baseball, you get a feel for the solid base mechanics of these games without having to invest a lot of time in them and risk them outstaying their welcome. NES Remix instead tasks you with, to use the same examples, simply getting on the green in less than 2 hits from a variety of situations, or winning a game from its final innings.

NES Remix is also interesting from a historical perspective to see how far we’ve come in certain genres. As you may have surmised from the examples I’ve given so far, this is particularly apparent in the sports games. Tennis, for example, requires far more split-second timing than its more modern counterparts. And while Golf features an early version of the classic “two tap” power-and-accuracy meter that many modern equivalents still use today, the lack of features such as the ability to put spin on the ball or estimate the maximum distance a given club will hit makes you realise how much we take for granted today.

It’s not just true for sports games, either. Ice Climber makes me incredibly grateful that Nintendo finally got the hang of jumping controls with the Mario series, because they certainly didn’t in Ice Climber. The Legend of Zelda will make you miss the ability to move diagonally. And Donkey Kong will make you glad that modern platform game heroes have significantly stronger knee joints and don’t die if they fall more than the length of their own shins.

As infuriating as some of these old games can be, NES Remix embraces their foibles and quirks and turns them into simple but compelling and addictive challenges that have kept me very much entertained over the last few days. And when you’re done with Nintendo’s oldest games, NES Remix 2 then moves onto later titles such as Super Mario Bros. 2 and 3, Metroid and Zelda II as we see a company getting more adventurous and attempting to refine their craft further.

For some, there will be no substitute for playing the original games — perhaps even on original hardware — but NES Remix is a great way of revisiting a wide variety of Nintendo classics and having a bit of fun with them. Plus I can’t help thinking it would make a hell of a great basis for group competitive play.

2535: A Very Nintendo Christmas

Familial duties for Christmas Day are all done and dusted, and the wife and I are back home. After giving a bit of fuss to the cats — who got an impressively large haul of gifts, because everyone likes to buy presents for cats, and cats are easy to buy gifts for — my main plan for this evening is to sit down in front of the Wii U for a whole bunch of Nintendo gaming.

I’m not entirely sure why my brain has made an unbreakable association between Nintendo games and the festive season, but I get this feeling and this desire to binge on Nintendo games every Christmas.

I suspect it’s a combination of factors, beginning with the fact that one of the most exciting Christmas presents I ever received as a child was a Super NES — the first console I’d ever owned, as up until that point we’d previously been a computer game-only household thanks to our collection of 8- and 16-bit Atari computers.

During that Christmas, I spent a great amount of time between the three games I had at the time: Super Mario World, Street Fighter II and Chuck Rock. (The latter two were American imports for some reason, necessitating the use of one of those enormous and unwieldy “converter” cartridges in which you had to plug the game you wanted to play in the top, and an English game in the back.) Consequently, I have very fond memories of that Christmas, and notably, the original Street Fighter II is one of the only fighting games I’ve ever felt like I actually “got”.

I think it’s more than that, though. I wrote yesterday about how I have generally positive associations with Christmas thanks to generally pleasant family gatherings growing up, and Nintendo as a whole prides itself on its family-friendly output. Now, to be honest, my parents were never particularly ones for playing two-player games with me — though my brother would join in when he was present — but the association is still there. First-party Nintendo games in particular are wrapped in a wonderful feeling of warmth and friendliness — a feeling that they’re designed for families to gather round and enjoy themselves with, even if it’s only one person playing at a time while others look on and enjoy the cartoonish silliness.

Then there’s also the fact that Nintendo games are generally very “pure” experiences that often — not always — forego ambitious, thought-provoking storytelling in favour of extremely solid gameplay, and as such are the perfect fodder for those times of year when you don’t want or need to think too hard about things, such as, say, when you’ve eaten several tons of turkey.

Whatever the reasoning behind it, I can’t break the association between Nintendo games and the holiday season, and nor do I want to. So the remainder of my Christmas day is going to be spent in the company of Mario and all his friends.

2534: Christmas Cheer

While I’ve somewhat lost enthusiasm for Christmas over the last ten years or so — I used to absolutely love it as a child — one thing I am pretty grateful for is the fact that I don’t recall ever having a “bad” Christmas.

I mention this simply because one of the most popular stereotypes used when describing the Christmas period is that of “the inevitable family arguments” that apparently occur in many households. While I feel that the descriptions of these are often somewhat overblown and exaggerated for comedic effect in most cases, these stereotypes presumably came about for a reason.

My Christmases growing up were fairly formulaic and predictable, but that brought them a certain sense of comfort about them. I’d wake up to find a selection of small gifts that had been snuck into a “Santa’s sack” at the foot of my bed, then go downstairs for a bacon sandwich and, once I was a little older, a Bucks Fizz. After breakfast, we’d go up to the lounge and open presents — my mother usually being the one who was most enthusiastic about this part of the day, and my father urging a certain degree of restraint — before relaxing with our new acquisitions for a little while.

After that, lunch preparations would get underway, with my mother taking the lead on things — we were a household of traditional gender roles, and also my mother is an excellent cook — and the rest of us alternating between staying well out of the way and occasionally fetching and carrying things as requested.

Lunchtime would come, and sprouts would always be on everyone’s plate, regardless of protestations, though those of us who really objected to them (such as me) would typically only have one of them, drowned in gravy to make it as inoffensive as possible. This would be followed by Christmas pudding, which would always be set aflame, and which I’d never quite work out if I actually liked or not — after 35 years of contemplation, I don’t think I do — and perhaps a cheeseboard to finish.

At some point during the day, the whole family would troop down to a local family friends’ place for wine and conversation for an hour or two; this was never a formal affair, but was always pleasant, particularly if the circumstances of the rest of the year had meant that we hadn’t had the time to catch up as frequently as we all might have liked to do. Then we’d return home, flop into our respective chairs and go back to enjoying our presents, mountains of snack foods and a generally relaxed, calm atmosphere.

I don’t remember a single Christmas that was blighted with arguments or troublesome political discussions, and I’m grateful for that. Perhaps these things did happen and I just don’t remember them, but they couldn’t have been especially traumatic for me if I can’t recall them at all.

These days, a Christmas exactly as I describe above is something that only happens once every couple of years now, since being married, we have the “one family, other family, quiet Christmas by ourselves” cycle going on. This year, we’re with my in-laws, who have routines of their own very similar to those that my family have enjoyed over the years, albeit with their own little twists.

And after a turbulent year — not to mention the chaos of working retail over the holiday period — I’m looking forward to a day where everyone, everywhere can just take some time to relax and enjoy themselves for once. At least, I hope that’s what everyone, everywhere is at least going to make an effort to try and do.

Merry Christmas.

2533: Future Collector’s Item

You’ve probably seen me mention my friend Chris on these pages a few times. (You might even be my friend Chris, in which case hi.) Chris and I have differing opinions on a number of things, but one thing we both agree on is the importance, value and general sense of satisfaction inherent in archiving and collecting games and gaming hardware for the future.

The other day, Chris and I were discussing Nintendo’s Wii U. We’re both a fan of the console and many of the games on it, and find the self-fulfilling prophecy of its “failure” rather frustrating; had people been a bit more willing to celebrate its most interesting and exciting titles rather than playing the usual “lol, Nintendo got no third party support” game things might have turned out a bit more differently. Or perhaps they might not have. Either way, it doesn’t really matter; it’s on the way out come March when Nintendo launches its new console, the Switch.

Chris raised a really interesting point about the Wii U that I hadn’t considered before: it is a new TurboGrafx or Neo-Geo.

“Tiny library of mostly excellent stuff?” he explained. “Check. Very short lifespan? Check. Innovative tech that was received poorly? Check. The Wii U in general is going to be a hardcore collecting legend in 5+ years.”

NEC and SNK’s consoles weren’t bad at the time they were released; they were simply competing with more popular (and particularly in the Neo-Geo’s case, more affordable) alternatives from Sega and Nintendo. In 2016, Nintendo finds itself in a similar position as these “second-tier” console manufacturers were in back in the 16- and 32-bit eras: the market is dominated by two more popular, more widely supported consoles (not to mention the endless sprawl of PC gaming) and is perceived as a “failure” despite having a small but beautifully formed library of games, most of which are not only excellent, but markedly distinct from the big-budget affairs that make up the frontline of the PS4 and Xbox One’s respective software libraries.

For the last few years, I’ve taken the attitude that, with a few exceptions — the most recent being Final Fantasy XV and Pokémon Moon — I will prioritise buying games that will more than likely be difficult to find in a year or two. (That said, old copies of Pokémon appear to absolutely skyrocket in value after a few years, so I’m certainly glad I grabbed that one, and especially glad I grabbed the apparently considerably less popular Moon variant.) Since I have an enormous backlog to get through already, I feel that the next few additions to my collection will more than likely be Wii U titles in an attempt to fill out an “essential” catalogue of games that I will be proud to keep alongside the console once it leaves the market.

So far I’ve got quite a decent selection: Bayonetta 2, Hyrule Warriors, Lego City Undercover, Mario Kart 8, NintendoLand, Sonic and Sega All-Stars Racing Transformed (multi-platform, so I sort of don’t really count this one, as fun as it is), Super Smash Bros., Super Mario Maker, Star Fox Guard, Star Fox Zero, Super Mario 3D World, Wii Party U, Wind Waker HD, Xenoblade Chronicles X and ZombiU. (The latter has been subsequently ported to other platforms, but the Wii U version features a unique local multiplayer mode that is a surprising amount of fun.)

I also have digital copies of Pikmin 3 and The Wonderful 101 that I’d like to replace with physical editions at some point in the near future, and I’ve ordered copies of Rodea the Sky Soldier and Captain Toad Treasure Tracker. The game I’m most concerned about becoming difficult to acquire in the near future is Tokyo Mirage Sessions, so I’ll likely grab that in the new year, and I think I’d also like to round out the Mario collection with Mario Tennis and Mario Party 10 at some point, too.

At that point, I think I’ll be satisfied with what I have; I don’t feel the numerous Lego games (aside from Wii U exclusive Lego City Undercover) have much value due to their multi-platform, cross-generational status, and likewise for stuff like Ubisoft’s dreadful but inexplicably popular Just Dance series and yet another port of the inescapable Minecraft — although I must confess I do like the idea of Minecraft making use of the GamePad’s touchscreen for its interface.

The prospect of the Wii U becoming highly collectible in the next few years is quite an exciting one, because for once, I not only have one, I have a good collection of games to go alongside it, too. It’s not exciting from the perspective that I’ll be able to make a lot of money from it — on the contrary; I don’t intend on letting it go anywhere — but rather because it’s a tangible piece of collectible history that I’ll be able to look back on fondly in the future.

2532: Five Games You Should Get in the Steam Sale

Steam’s Winter Sale has rolled around again! As always, there’s a wealth of great games on offer. On the off-chance that you don’t already own some or all of these games, here are five of my favourites that you should check out.

Recettear (£2.59)

I find it hard to imagine that anyone doesn’t have Recettear yet, but on the offchance you don’t, here’s the pitch.

Recette is a young girl saddled with an enormous debt. Fortunately, she has a shop with which she can attempt to clear said debt by selling items to the local community, as well as through making good use of the assistance of her fairy companion Tear (actually a representative of the bank keeping an eye on her finances) and the local adventurer’s guild.

Recettear is split into two main components. Firstly, there’s running the shop, which involves putting out items for people to buy, correctly answering their requests and haggling over prices. Secondly, there’s a significant roguelike-esque action RPG component in which Recette can hire one of the local adventurer’s guild to go into one of the nearby dungeons to fight monsters and acquire items that she can subsequently craft into more interesting items or simply sell as-is.

The closest comparison is probably Gust’s Atelier series, though there’s much less of a focus on crafting in Recettear and more on the dungeon crawling and customer interaction side of things. It’s one of the most charming games ever created, with a stunning localisation from the original Japanese by Carpe Fulgur, and is well worth your time.

Steam page

Binary Domain (£2.74)

An absolutely wonderful third-person shooter, Binary Domain takes Gears of War’s po-faced, joyless over the shoulder cover-based shooting and ramps up the adrenaline to make something with a bunch more personality and drama about it, albeit with (arguably) a few more clunky edges to it.

In Binary Domain you spend a lot of time shooting the shit out of robots, all of which shatter into pieces rather satisfyingly. There’s a variety of upgradeable weapons to acquire over the course of your adventure, and some truly entertaining setpieces. The story is good, too, featuring a cast who are all much more interesting than the walking military stereotypes found in shooters that take themselves a bit too seriously, and the whole thing feels like it’s been designed on the understanding that games are supposed to be fun.

Steam page

HuniePop (£1.74)

One of the absolute best puzzle games to be released in the last few years — hell, one of the only puzzle games to be released in the last few years that isn’t a free-to-play mobile phone-based Bejeweled ripoff — and a game full of endearingly cheeky humour designed by a team who doesn’t give a fuck about political correctness.

HuniePop is ostensibly a dating sim in that you build up your stats in order to attempt to woo the various girls on the cast, but the twist is that in order to have successful dates (or “intimate” encounters) you need to indulge in some mind-bending, highly strategic puzzle-solving using a combination of your pattern-spotting skills and the items you collect throughout the dating sim gameplay.

HuniePop is beautifully presented, highly playable, shamelessly lewd and an absolute pleasure to play.

Steam page

VA-11 HALL-A (£9.34)

VA-11 HALL-A is a brilliant visual novel-cum-bartending sim in which you take on the role of Jill, a rather ordinary young woman who lives in a cyberpunk future and tends bar in the titular drinking establishment.

VA-11 HALL-A tells its story rather wonderfully through what it doesn’t show you — since the majority of the action unfolds from Jill’s perspective behind the bar, you tend to see the immediate prelude to and aftermath of important events in the game world rather than the events themselves, which allows you to develop a much more personal attachment to them by hearing firsthand accounts from people who were there.

There’s a wonderful cast of characters — effortlessly “diverse”, I might add, and without making a big song and dance about it at any point, unlike its spiritual predecessor Read Only Memories, which very much wanted you to know how progressive it was at every opportunity — and a compelling story to enjoy here, all beautifully presented in the style of an old PC-98-era visual novel from Japan. Except this masterpiece was put together by a couple of dudes from Venezuela over the course of the last couple of years.

Steam page

Assault Android Cactus (£5.49)

One of the best shoot ’em ups I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing, Assault Android Cactus channels a variety of influences ranging from bullet hell shooters to Rare’s Jet Force Gemini to create a marvelously entertaining and meticulously designed twin-stick shooter for up to four players simultaneously.

Unfolding across some beautiful-looking dynamic levels, Cactus will challenge your shooter skills to the limit if you want to attain the best scores and grades, but the game also remains accessible to newcomers who just want to blast their way through to the end to say they’ve beaten it.

The whole package is capped off with an amazing soundtrack and some brilliant old-school Sega-style “EX options” that can completely change the way the game plays, and is an absolutely essential purchase for anyone who enjoys a bit of quality arcade action.

Steam page

2531: Planning to Unplug

After some discussion with my friend Chris recently — partly inspired by my recent post on mobile phone apathy — I’ve made the not particularly difficult decision to try and “unplug” as much as possible from the general noise of the Internet in 2017.

And I’m talking about more than just stepping away from Twitter and Facebook like I have done a few times in the past, as positive as those experiences turned out to be for me. I’m talking about a pretty thorough purge, and a return to a simpler, quieter life with fewer external stressors.

You see, the allure of the Internet and its ability to connect people from all over the world has kind of worn off somewhat for me. The last few years have demonstrated that there are a significant number of people out there who are more interested in conflict, oneupmanship and narcissism than actual meaningful interaction. The fall from grace of the games press — and many game journalists’ pretty much unveiled hatred of their audiences — is just one of many examples of this, but the overall negativity that infuses what feels like the vast majority of online communications these days is just proving to be more trouble than it’s worth.

I don’t need that. It’s not adding anything to my life — nothing good, anyway — so, I figure, why continue to put up with it? There’s no need to.

As such, starting on New Year’s Day, I’m going to begin a process of unplugging as much as I possibly can. Twitter and Facebook are both going completely, since the annoyance both of those bring to my life far outweighs the benefits of both of them. More significantly, I’m planning on ditching the smartphone age in favour of an older, simpler phone that doesn’t bug me every five minutes with updates and notifications. At this point, I’m strongly considering picking up a second-hand N-Gage I’ve seen on Amazon, since that has the added benefit of being an underappreciated and increasingly rare gaming platform as well as a phone I very much enjoyed using when I originally had one.

I’m also going to draw my time with this blog to a close. I’m satisfied with what I’ve achieved here since I started, but the time has come to move on. I’m not going to give up regular writing, mind you; I’m still going to post weekly articles over on MoeGamer, since those have a clear focus, and I’m also intending to start a weekly TinyLetter as a more private, more personal substitute for my daily updates here. I’ll post details on how to sign up for that towards the end of the year, so those of you who want to continue to follow what I’m up to can do so.

I’ll be keeping more personal means of communication open. My email address and Google Hangouts accounts will still be active, as will my gaming accounts on Steam, Xbox Live and PSN. But the shouting into the void that is public social media will, hopefully, become a thing of the past. It’s no longer enjoyable, useful or fun, so I have no need for it.

I’m not going to put my personal email, Google Hangouts and gaming account addresses in this post for obvious reasons, but if you are interested in staying in touch via any of these means, please feel free to drop me a line via my Contact page explaining who you are and how you know me. If we’ve chatted before in the past, great, no problem; if we’ve never spoken before, however, please do include a bit about yourself in your message.

That’s the plan, then. And I anticipate that it will lead to a happier, more peaceful and less stressful 2017 for me. At least I hope it does, anyway!