In the video game Fallout: New Vegas, there’s a very important item–a kind of MacGuffin, really–that looks like a platinum poker chip, but which turns out to be a data storage device.

Well, a fan of the game actually took it upon himself to build a working platinum chip/data storage device. Pretty cool.

Actually, they apparently do mass-produce platinum-colored data storage devices that are about the size and shape of a poker chip. Amusingly, I discovered this fact after I had already played New Vegas, and I did what must have been quite a comical double take upon seeing it.

So, there has been some controversy surrounding the above ad for Activision and Treyarch‘s new game Call of Duty: Black Ops.

What strikes me as ironic is that, for obvious reasons, they don’t actually show any people being seriously injured in the ad. The actual game, like many another video game released over the past two decades, is full of violent scenes that depict CGI figures that look like humans being shot and stabbed. And yet, I have to admit that I think this ad is more disturbing than the game itself.

What I can’t figure out, though, is why exactly that is. I guess it’s just because the people in the ad aren’t dressed like soldiers, and thus viscerally remind me of random terrorists or criminals rather than members of the military.

Overall, it’s a very good game. The Bethesda and Obsidian collaboration delivered almost everything in New Vegas that I’d hoped for, so I’m quite happy with it.

A few issues: I felt like the story got kind of confusing towards the end, although in my experience Obsidian’s stories get much better on subsequent playthroughs as you pick up on subtle things you overlooked before.

Also, lots of bugs during the final battle, but if you save regularly it shouldn’t be a problem.

But all in all, I’d have to say it’s the best game to come out this year.

[UPDATE: Note that when I say “finished”, I mean I played through the main story line and completed it one time. Because there are so many ways to play through it, and so many sidequests, it would be inaccurate to say that I have come anywhere close to seeing everything in the game.]

I’d like to do a review of Bethesda Softworks and Obsidian Entertainment‘s game Fallout New Vegas, but the game is so massive and there are so many different ways to play that I don’t see me being able to do that before next September, if I hurry.

What I can say is that most of the reviews fall into two categories: those who love it because it’s “just like Fallout 3“, which they consider to be a very good thing, and those who think it is too buggy to even be playable.

I’ve had a few crashes, but I save often, and the game auto-saves frequently, so the bugs haven’t been an issue for me.

As for the “it’s just like Fallout 3” idea, I have to say that, while that might be true in terms of gameplay, it’s absolutely wrong in terms of story and dialogue. New Vegas is so far superior to F3 in these areas it’s amazing.

I thought Fallout 3 was okay, but overrated. I think Fallout New Vegas is a vast, vast improvement. So far, it seems to me to be one of the best games in years. The story is much better than F3’s, the atmosphere is just as eerie, and the dialogue is much more intelligent than F3’s was.

The other thing is that New Vegas‘s tone goes back and forth between uproarious humor and pitch-black seriousness with stunning rapidity. And unlike Fallout 2, it never feels jarring.

Be warned, it’s seriously dark at times; and not just because of the on-screen violence. As often as not, it’s the things you don’t see that are the most disturbing. (I am thinking particularly of one quest involving a sniper that ends on an absolutely chilling note. No spoilers, but if you played the game you know what I mean.) It definitely deserves its “M” rating.  Nevertheless, it’s a very good game.

[NOTE: I am not a lawyer or a constitutional scholar. What follows is merely my opinion as a player of video games.]

Our beloved Republic stands at a crossroads. Tomorrow is a momentous occasion in the history of America.

I am speaking, of course, of the case before the Supreme Court, challenging a California law that would ban the sale of violent video games to minors.

One problem with the coverage of this issue is that they’re talking primarily about the question of violence in games. The real issue is not just “violence”. This is mistake people often make. The real question raised by the case involves its definition of violence, which deems a game violent if, among other things, it doesn’t have: “serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value for minors”.

This seems to me to require an answer to the question: which violent games have artistic merit and which do not?

Consider: The most violent video games are rated “M” for “ages 17+” by the ESRB. But not all “M” games are alike. Most of them fall into the category of being mindless shooters, like Doom, Call of Duty, Gears of War and so on. These are the games that usually grab people’s attention for excessive violence.

But then there are those other games, which are not merely endless levels of cannon fodder enemies, but instead present real, gritty fighting, disturbing scenes of violence, and most of all, show the consequences of that violence and its impact on the characters. Games like Black Isle’s Fallout series and Planescape: Torment and Hideo Kojima’s Metal Gear series. These attempt to deal with violence in a realistic and adult manner–not merely a cartoon-ish  shoot-’em-up.

The question is, which is worse for a kid to see: a game where wave after wave of nameless enemies are gunned down without consequence, or a game which depicts violent acts, but also the physical and psychological after-effects of violence on the victims and the perpetrators?

There are two classes of “M” games: those which use violence because they think it’s awesome when the guy’s head explodes and those who are using it to serve some artistic purpose. The former kind kids will enjoy, the latter kind they may learn something from.

The trouble here is that the law concerns whether or not the games have artistic value to minors. “Minors” is a big range. For example, Sniper Wolf’s death scene in Metal Gear Solid is poignant if you have the maturity to grasp it, which many people have by the age of fifteen, but which few people have by the age of nine.

Of course, we face the same issue with movies. There are seven Saw films, there is only one Natural Born Killers. (And even its artistic merit is disputable.) It must be understood that violence is not the real–or at least, the only–issue; there is also a question of artistic value. I believe that video games, as an art form, deserve exactly the same treatment as movies, books, and all other art forms in this area.

Sam Machkovech has a rather bizarre piece in The Atlantic in which he claims that patching video games to fix bugs renders them incapable of being art. He reasons:

“But in terms of buggy, incomplete games reaching the marketplace, the hobby is doing great damage to itself. When video games depend on patches, they lose all artistic potential and become broken advertisements for their future selves.”

I’m not entirely sure I follow that, but I think what he’s saying is that because video games are updated even after their release, they’re never finished and, therefore, never art.

I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous. They’re always doing restorations of movies and paintings and such; why not for video games?

And, anyway, patches are only used to correct glitches and small errors. I don’t think anyone’s going to introduce a patch that completely alters the central artistic vision of a game. (Okay, there are mods. But modding a game to have different-looking characters and weapons is about the same as setting Macbeth  in modern-day Australia. Does that make Shakespeare not “Art”?)

I thought Bethesda SoftworksFallout 3 was kind of overrated, to be honest. I know it’s heresy to say that, but that’s my opinion. Nevertheless, I’m quite excited about New Vegas.

There are a lot of flaws I could point out in Fallout 3, but for right now, I want to focus on the two things that it did right: it conveyed a sense of scale and a splendid atmosphere. The giant Capital Wasteland was an epic area to explore. I used the quick travel thing as little as possible; because my favorite part of the game was walking through the desolate wasteland, alone.

Sadly, for me, the game was fatally flawed by weak writing and dull characters. But I’m not worried about that this time; because this time Bethesda is having the game made by Obsidian Entertainment. And great writing and great characters are what Obsidian is known for.

If it lives up to its potential, and combines the epic size and atmosphere of Fallout 3 with the wonderful storytelling of everything that Obsidian does, Fallout: New Vegas has the potential to be one of the greatest games of all time. We’ll find out tomorrow.

“The true weird tale has something more than secret murder, bloody bones, or a sheeted form clanking chains according to rule. A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain–a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those fixed laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space.”–H.P. Lovecraft. “Supernatural Horror in Literature.” 1927.

I didn’t plan to write more about horror movies, but this post set me thinking about it. Well, this, coupled with the fact that it’s October, and for years I’ve wanted nothing better than to see a good, solid, terrifying movie during Halloween month.

But I can’t, because what passes for a horror film these days is mindless ultra-violence. None of the horror films of today are remotely frightening. They are, at most, grotesque. Which is not at all the same thing as frightening, and it’s a sign of how very pathetic the whole genre has become that they continue to profit.

Audiences nowadays are seemingly only capable of viewing a film on a visceral level. There is no wish, it seems, for a kind of intellectual horror–which is the only kind that really interests me, at least in a film or book. (There are a few video games where pure shock and grotesqueness can work.)

Actually, though, video games are more intellectual than the idiocies which are committed by alleged horror filmmakers. Doom 3, flawed though it was by the bad melodrama of arch-villain Dr. Betruger, at least actually did introduce “outer, unknown forces”, as Lovecraft described. Indeed, most video gamers have read some Lovecraft somewhere down the line, and hence have (probably inadvertently) picked up a few principles of cosmic horror.

(It’s revealing that when they made a movie based on the Doom series,  they had to change the whole story to make the monsters not the supernatural legions of Hell, but rather mere genetic mutations. Scientific explanation of the monsters ruins horror of said monsters.)

This is the second, related flaw I see in modern horror films: when everyone isn’t being gruesomely terrorized, they are explaining the origin, physical properties, and, if possible, psychological profile of whatever the monsters are.

I assume this is some sort of attempt to make the story intellectually engaging, but it invariably ruins any conceivable fear that it is to be had from the story. (Also, the state of writing being what it is in horror films, it’s generally painful whenever anyone says anything, so the less said, the better.)

Finally, since the idea of “horror” is increasingly synonymous  with “violence”, filmmakers are ceasing to make their monsters monsters, and instead making them merely insane criminals. Well, I suppose that’s scary enough in its way, but nothing that couldn’t be remedied with a better police force, better prisons, and perhaps a shotgun.

(As an aside, why is more gun ownership the implicit moral of many of these supposedly “Liberal Hollywood” movies? Do they not realize it?)

Horror movies are in a state of severe decline and appear to have a crippling lack of originality and inventiveness. Violence is a basic and ancient human activity, and therefore requires no imagination to throw into a film. The over-explanation of everything serves to make the films more mundane still. Criminality is, again, a fact of life which requires no imagination to think up, only access to a police blotter.

Imagination, then, is what the horror filmmakers of today lack. They have no ability, it seems, to think outside the natural laws of the everyday world and seize upon some truly unsettling idea of incomprehensible forces, preferring instead to let their lazy minds settle on whatever base emotion they happen to have.

[Note: I wrote this post awhile ago, but didn’t publish it. Then I was reminded of it by thingy‘s comments on this post combined with reading this post by Nameless Cynic.]

Do you have any favorite works of art, music, literature or entertainment that you really like, but that the vast majority of critics hate? I’m not talking about stuff that’s “so bad, it’s good” here, I’m talking about something where you and a friend can be talking about this thing, and it’s like you’re talking about two different subjects. Your friend hates it for reasons you just don’t see, and you can’t make your friend see why you like it.

I think I might have some sort of mental issue with this, because there are all sorts of examples I can think of from my life. For example, remember those Star Wars prequels that everyone hated? Yeah, well… I loved them. I think they’re honestly better than the originals. [Prepares to be flamed.]

Take another example: Obsidian Entertainment‘s video game Alpha Protocol. The critics and videogamers generally hated that thing. Destructoid gave it a 2 out of 10. That just isn’t done in game reviews. I, meanwhile, thought it was an excellent game–in some ways, better than Mass Effect 2, even. [Prepares to be flamed, again.]

Even in my enthusiasm for Gilbert and Sullivan, this issue crops up. The Grand Duke was G&S’s last operetta, and the only one to be an utter failure. And despite the lasting popularity of Gilbert and Sullivan’s works, The Grand Duke has been ignored from its 1896 premiere to the present day. Most G&S fans hate it. And yet I love the thing. It’s my third favorite of their 14 operettas. [I probably won’t get flamed for this, but better safe than sorry]

It’s not like I don’t realize there are flaws in all these works. Yes, the dialogue in the SW prequels is very weak. Yes, sometimes the textures in Alpha Protocol don’t put in an appearance until you’re well into a mission. Yes, it occasionally seems like W.S. Gilbert utterly lost his knowledge of how rhyme and syntax work for The Grand Duke. But somehow, these flaws just don’t bother me like they do most people.

But anyway, enough about my eccentricities. I’m just curious if anyone else has ever experienced anything similar to this.