It’s raining crack rocks- the local population will be screaming ‘thank you jesus!’
It’s raining crack rocks- the local population will be screaming ‘thank you jesus!’
I have been thinking about and playing a lot of games lately, moreso than I really should be considering my plate is full to begin with. But, as we all know, the best work is that which is done at the last minute, so thus far I feel quite free to continue procrastinating. Also, after the sadistic auctioneer taught kickboxing class last night, all I could bring myself to do afterward was lie on the coach, play games, and moan.
The other day in the interview, I surprised even myself by saying that I liked Amplitude better than Guitar Hero–really? The precursor to one of the most popular and best-selling games of all time? WHY?
It’s not that I dislike Guitar Hero; I think it’s a lot of fun. I think that its very accessibility is a huge boon to the game industry as a whole as it has attracted many new players, and being able to posture with the guitar clearly taps into very primal centers. However, as a self-proclaimed snotty know-it-all about the rhythm-action genre, it’s a step back. How so? Here’s a run-down of the most widely-recognized, groundbreaking R-A games:
Parappa the Rapper (PS1, 1996) is, essentially, the first widely-recognized rhythm-action game, and its gameplay is akin to Simon Says: a series of button-actions are shown onscreen, and you mimic them. Its spin-off UmJammer Lammy (PS1, 1999), was much the same, though it included one of the first guitar-shaped peripherals. Parappa the Rapper 2 (PS2, 2002) is clearly in the same style. (As Guitar Freaks was/is primarily an arcade game, I will disregard it here. Dance Dance Revolution will be similarly disregarded.)
Released around the same time as UmJammer Lammy was Space Channel 5 (DC, 2000) and gameplay was nearly identical, though the stylization of Space Channel 5 made it wildly more successful.
Changing things up was Samba De Amigo (DC, 1999), which, like UmJammer, also included peripherals–a floor mat and two maracas; the sombrero and fringed jacket were your own responsibility. Gameplay, however, was concurrent with what appeared onscreen, instead of the call-and-response of PaRappa, UmJammer, and Space Channel. This concurrency has been a mainstay of rhythm-action games since that point, speeding up gameplay significantly.
Gitaroo Man (PS2, 2001), though a cult hit and never a commercial success, improved on Samba’s concurrency with the addition of the analog stick, which aided immersion, as it involved the player in more aspects of the song than a singular beat.
Also in 2001, Harmonix released FreQuency, which split songs up into drum, bass, guitar, keys, and vocals onto separate ‘tracks’–when you played through two full bars, that track would auto-play for a time, and you could move onto the next track, the goal being to get the entire song playing concurrently for as long as possible. FreQuency’s musical focus was primarily electronica; its sequel, Amplitude, was released in 2003, and included a much broader range of songs; gameplay remained very similar.
Harmonix is also responsible for the first two iterations of the Guitar Hero series, which I imagine most game-players on my list are familiar with. The game is played using a guitar-shaped peripheral, the left hand controlling neck buttons, and the right in charge of the strum bar and whammy; gameplay is straightforward and concurrent.
What makes Guitar Hero a step back? Its very straightforwardness. In FreQuency and especially in Amplitude, the path you chose to move through the song determined your score, determined your completion percentage, determined what powerups (if any) you’d get, and ultimately determined whether you’d make it through the song or not. There was always a way through that led to maximum points/completion, but it wasn’t obvious. It required a greater level of dedication, and the flexibility to approach the same level many, many different ways. In Guitar Hero, for the same song, you press the same buttons in the same pattern every single time. Thus, after a couple of play-throughs, I was done with it. Amplitude has tapped into my domination-seeking lizard brain, and consequently, I’ve played each level one hundred times or more in order to truly master the game.
And that’s why I think Amplitude is, like, the greatest rhythm-action game ever. The only thing that would make it better is a ship shaped like a pony that shoots lasers from its eyes.
Mellzah, age 8.
P.S. I want to love Elite Beat Agents, but the songs make me hate it. So. Much.
Why does your recommendation feature suck so hard? If I tell it that I’m not interested in, say, a cd single, I shouldn’t have to say that I’m ALSO not interested in the UK version of the same single, or the Australian release of the same single…I JUST DON’T WANT IT. Also, if I don’t want a game, I don’t want the gamecube version or the xbox version or the ps2 version or the ds version or the 360 version…I DON’T WANT IT and I shouldn’t have to keep indicating that I don’t want it. If I own a version of a game and it’s available on six different platforms, I have probably already purchased it on the platform I wanted it on, and don’t need suggestions that I buy it for every other goddamn one. If I buy ONE book about circus freaks, I don’t want EVERY OTHER DAMN BOOK EVER WRITTEN on circus freaks. If I buy a Buckethead CD, you don’t need to recommend every other Buckethead CD out there–odds are, I either know about them, or a simple search on Buckethead would list them all. If I tell you I have a platinum gamecube, why does it suggest that I should buy one in black, purple, and orange? I ALREADY HAVE ONE. How many could I possibly need?
Why can’t it be smarter? More like Netflix?
In conclusion, please stop blowing goats.
Mellzah the Consumer Whore (and how!)
Looks like I’ve found my ticket to the good life, and yours, too!
For a while, daemonwolf has been posting intriguing little clues in the comments as to what she’s been fixing to send me in order to further grind on my apartment manager, clues which have indeed captivated my imagination:
“It’s not really that horrible, just… odd. I’m still sad I didn’t get the matching one, but goddamn shipping would have been ridiculous.”
“I went with the theme of BIG and KITSCHY.”
“He is on the way. I call him…. MexiClause. Or perhaps LatinoClause. I’m still sad I didn’t get the matching set. His woman, she was browtastic.”
Even though she told me it was big, GODDAMN I did NOT expect to see a package of such immense proportions waiting for me. All the while, as I was peeling off tape, my mind was still imagining what on earth ‘MexiClause’ could be–and even in my wildest imagination, I came nowhere close.
Just look at this:
I’m jealous of his luxurious beard, that’s so thick and masterful, it must be parted. If only I could grow a beard so spectacular–I’d go for a side-sweep part myself. Sort of a beard combover.
I’m reminded of the painting of Baba Rama Nana in Private Resort, but as I stare into his eyes, I’m not convinced that I should wear robes and worship him…yet.
Best. Painting. Ever.
Thank you, Tara!
I have been getting various things through the mail for an upcoming event, the details of which I am not yet revealing, on April 20th. (By the way, you should all mark your calendars to be available that day from 6-11pm, or you will be mad at yourselves FOREVER.) This basically means that I’ve been getting packages in the mail every day for about a week and a half.
I don’t get snotty remarks anymore. The office people address me politely by name, and when they see me out walking Napoleon, they gather up whatever packages I’ve got and have the ready for when I walk by the office. The apartment manager also said that if I want to renew my lease, I should talk to her and she’ll only bump me $10 per month instead of the $55 everyone else is getting.
Then, yesterday, I got this on my door.
I think this means I’ve won! Many thanks to everyone who helped make this campaign of irritation and absurdity work–you’ve won, too. Fuckin’ A.
Quote of the day, overheard from one white trash hen to another. And I’m not paraphrasing, as each word was burned into my mind as I heard them.
“So she was outside, in the sun, watching her neighbor get evicted. Out in the sun. And then, all of a sudden, her uh, eye, uh retina! Her retina like detached right then. So she said see, she was being punished for watching her neighbor get evicted.”
Moral of the story: watch your neighbors on cloudy days? Just listen to them get evicted? It’s a puzzle to be sure.
Today’s defining moment:
“Please put your feet up in the stirrups and spread your legs.” “Dr. Zhai, I like you, but not in that way.” “…” “OH GOD OW. OW. OW.”
A whole new pair of pants has risen up in the fight against me. This particular pair, I discovered on Saturday, I could take off and put on without going through the hassle of buttons and zips, yet my hips were enough to keep them up. This is a nigh-perfect Jeans Situation to be in.
Except, of course, the jeans were merely luring me into a trap. On Saturday, I was walking Napoleon, went to get the mail, and saw I had a package in the office, so I picked that up as well. With both hands occupied, I made my way back to my apartment, at which time, my pants sprung their trap and fell down. I flailed wildly for a few moments, as Napoleon at that EXACT MOMENT spotted another animal that he felt he must destroy, and started yanking me forward as I was attempting to maneuver the package and mail to the ground and pull up the renegade pants.
No fewer than three neighbors witnessed this.
*I* am the definition of class.
If the insurance company that denies my claims wants me to spend MY time filling out their goddamned surveys, they’d best be prepared to get some answers they don’t like.
I hope my next plan booklet comes in Klingon.