Jerry Holkins, Tycho of Penny Arcade fame, penned a comic (shown above) and an accompanying blog post in defense of THQ’s recent comments regarding purchasers of used games. The quick recap is that THQ doesn’t care if used game buyers are upset that purchasers of new titles are going to get a bunch of “free” stuff that a used game buyer is going to have to pay extra for, and Tycho doesn’t think it’s appropriate for these used game purchasers to get angry at THQ over it.

What bothers me about Tycho’s commentary is that he comes across as sounding more like a privileged industry insider rather than the civilian commentator everyone has come to love, and I don’t think he meant to be taken that way.

I quote:

“The idea that THQ is somehow ‘disrespecting customers’ with this kind of rhetoric misunderstands the situation as completely as it is possible to do so. In a literal way, when you purchase a game used, you are not a customer of theirs. If I am purchasing games in order to reward their creators, and to ensure that more of these ingenious contraptions are produced, I honestly can’t figure out how buying a used game was any better than piracy. From the the perspective of a developer, they are almost certainly synonymous.”

Let’s remind ourselves for a moment that the average gamer isn’t the most eloquent person on the face of the planet, and not sit so high on our horses mocking their inappropriate use of words, because in doing so Tycho runs the risk of misunderstanding the situation as completely as it is possible to do so.

Gamers don’t purchase games to reward their creators. They purchase games to play games, and the games are expensive. StarCraft II’s recent pricing at $60 rather than the traditional $50 of PC titles is probably going to set a trend for all PC games in the future, and when the next generation of consoles finally come out, one can imagine that the average price point per title will continue to rise.

To be fair, games are not cheap to develop and publishers are entitled to make their return on investment. When a genius piece of work like BioShock is developed for $15 million, however, and we then look at other budgets in the industry for products of far lesser quality, there’s a fair argument to be made that the publishers have been pissing money away like drunken sailors for years on bloated development costs and needlessly huge ad campaigns, and the consumer doesn’t deserve to foot that bill.

Activision threw a huge party with Eminem at E3 2010 which had nothing to do with video games. If Activision starts charging for online Call of Duty the way Michael Pachter keeps arguing they have to, how much of that extra money gamers will be paying for something they used to get for free will go towards the next big, meaningless, and expensive PR function at an industry event that tells us nothing about what Activision is working on?

GameStop pays shit prices for used titles, but the chain gives gamers the opportunity to get something back in their pockets for games which can very quickly become collectors of dust after they are purchased. Perhaps the game has been sucked dry to its marrow due to a short campaign, lack of any meaningful DLC, or shoddy multiplayer. Perhaps the video game media once again abrogated its responsibility to let the consumer know that the game really wasn’t as good as all the hype, and that they should wait six months for the price to come down to a more reasonable level.

Getting $35 for selling back a game you paid $60 for five days ago is surely a rip-off, but it is also half of another, new game. It’s a 3-for-2 deal for people who turn games around quickly in periods of high new release volume, and that’s not something to just piss all over, which is what I feel Tycho is doing when he compares the used games market to piracy. Even in the context in which he’s making the comment, it sounds ridiculous. Piracy is outright theft and malevolent in its intent. Selling a used game is not.

When THQ, EA, Sony, and Ubisoft all start making noises about trying to kill the used games market without simultaneously addressing the conditions that created it in the first place, I understand how it might sound pretty disrespectful, if not outright dismissive, to some of their customers. For some people, the used game market is a lifeline to getting games which are new to them, whether they are still encased in the shrink wrap or not.

GameStop has become an industry giant directly as a result of the high prices set by publishers and their failure to spread major releases throughout the year. If you want to criticize the used games market and suggest that it’s doing harm to developers by taking money out of their pockets, at least address the publishers who created that market in the same breath. Even if you’ve said it before, it’s worth saying again in this context.

The purpose of a review is to evaluate a game by providing a critical statement that is indicative of the title’s merit or lack thereof. As much as some may try to provide an objective opinion, leaving personal feelings, interpretations and prejudices at the door, providing an unbiased opinion based merely on facts is nearly impossible. Even if it were done, it sure as hell would not be very interesting.

The preconceived opinions, attitudes or feelings that make up our prejudices influence how we think about what we perceive. It is because of this that two individuals can come to entirely different conclusions about the exact same experience. One person’s terrorist is another’s vision of a freedom fighter. Similarly, one person’s idea of a perfect game could leave another wanting.

Reviews not only contain bias in order to formulate a subjective opinion on a product, but also within the structure of a review itself. The majority of videogame reviews are rated on a scale of zero to ten. However, it seems the prejudices formulated by the academic background of reviewers and readers have influenced both the use and reception of this scale, giving rise to complications and creating grave inconsistencies in the process.

Our personal biases and life experiences certainly affect who we are and are a crucial part of formulating our opinions. The blending of the academic and critical mindset in ten point reviews does not make a lot of sense and is something that needs to change.

Academically, a student’s work is graded on a scale of failure to excellence, ranging from fifty to one hundred percent. While game reviews are typically scored on a scale of zero to ten where five is the average, years of academia have repercussions on reviewers and readers at an intrinsic level.

The academic rating scale suggests that anything graded in the southwards of seventy percent denotes a lack of quality. This way of thinking is something that is ingrained into children at a very young age, and is reinforced throughout their academic lives.

Due to differences amongst the systems, a score of seventy percent (or seven of ten) may denote an average score in an academic setting, whereas in a review it should signify a game of higher quality.

Unfortunately, the holdover from academics seems to affect how people perceive review scores. Psychologically, former students have a difficult time associating numbers below seven or eight, numbers linked with C and B grades, with quality or excellence.

This mindset leads to a variety of problems. When a game is reviewed with an academic mindset it becomes all too easy to ignore the lower half of the scoring scale. Doing so increases the range of failure, whilst compacting that of success.

While it may seem to go without saying, the average score a game can receive in a review on a scale of zero to ten is a five. So while that might seem odd considering how we associate five with failure, theoretically anything at or above a score of five should still be a decent game that is worth your time. Unfortunately, it seems all too typical for gamers to write off any title that receives a score below seven.

In a ten point scale, positive reviews theoretically would make up the upper half of the scale. This allows for reviews to rate games on an even distribution ranging from typical, average games to titles that are near perfection. Conversely, the lower half of this scale would range from titles that are merely mediocre to broken, awful games that are practically unplayable.

The more commonplace perception of review scores, the academic “anything above a C is acceptable” mindset, leaves only the upper quartile for the wide array of high quality experiences. Cramming everything that is “good” into such a small percentage is irrational when we have a larger scale to utilize than that of academics. Well received titles with similar scores have large differences in terms of quality, while poorly received titles of similar quality can have drastically different ratings. This issue has left the top quartile unbelievably crowded with virtually any and every game that is received in a positive light.

In occasions when reviewers utilize their full unbridled liberty of the ten point scale, particularly with anticipated or high profile releases, they catch a great deal of flak from their audiences. No-one really enjoys being criticized or harassed. Some individuals are actually so afraid of criticism that they will bend to the will of others in order to avoid it. After all, it is a lot easier to say something positive than it is to go against the grain and be critical.

Being critical not only means potentially disappointing an audience that has been looking forward to a game for months, perhaps years but also the title’s publisher and developer. Being brutally honest could risk straining that relationship. In the case of one Kane & Lynch reviewer it could even mean losing your job. Then there is always the rage of fanboys to worry about.

It is unfortunate that this cowardice exists in the first place, much less is supported by a system suffering from a battle between two schools of thought. Those that are afraid to give a game an honest score are camouflaged amongst a sea of individuals who review games as though they are grading papers.

It is understandable that thinking about two very similar things in incredibly different ways is difficult. Anyone that has tried to learn a foreign language can attest to that. However, if we as reviewers and readers begin to utilize the full ten point scale when thinking about games we are not only being more honest, but we are improving the quality of the system which we use to evaluate what we care about and further legitimizing it by differentiating games from other, previously established facets of our lives.

This is not a piece about Starcraft II reviews. I want to make that very clear; but I do take issue with calling the authors of these reviews “critics,” and Starcraft II is merely the latest title to bring this inappropriate verbiage to light.

To wit, the headline of the GameSpy article was “Critics Praise it, But a Number of Players Have Some Big Complaints About StarCraft II.” The video game media uses the words “critic” and “reviewer” interchangeably, as though they are synonymous. Most of the current reviews of Starcraft II have absolutely nothing to do with criticism.

Critics are concerned with evaluation based on a formal set of criteria, what we call “critical language.”  The best, formal criticism seeks to have some modicum of objectivity by basing its content in the acknowledged critical language of whatever art form or field of study that it’s talking about. When a film critic does their job, they will refer back to film theory and established technique and the body of critical language that’s been developed for decades.

This is not to say that critics are entirely unbiased. I had a professor in school who was the acknowledged expert on the film maker John Cassavetes, and said professor was as much a fanboy as any participant of console flame wars – but he was able to defend his fandom using legitimate film and cultural theory. In this, praising Starcraft II isn’t unreasonable from a critical perspective, as long as the critic maintains credibility by also seriously acknowledging where the game might have honest weaknesses from a critical perspective.

Reviewers, on the other hand, tell a story of how they felt when they experienced something. “I liked this movie because,” or “I hated this movie because.” As Jim Sterling recently opined, there’s no such thing as an objective review. It’s all based upon personal bias…and it’s ultimately what makes a review pretty worthless to anyone other than the reader who already agrees with the sensibilities of the reviewer.

Criticism of video games is tough because we have no formal, critical language to conduct that discourse with. If you ever wonder why so much of the writing about video games is of such poor quality, you can lay a lot of that on this doorstep. We can apply some concepts from film criticism now that story is taking such a huge role in video games. If Mass Effect 2 didn’t make us feel a sense of connection with our crew members, we as players wouldn’t give a damn whether any of those crew members died or not during the suicide mission, and all of those tense moments at the end of the game would have been lost. We can discuss, from a critical perspective, the narrative techniques Mass Effect 2 used to make us connect with those characters.

We could probably cobble together a critical language of video games if we needed to. I hold that said language already exists through the collective experience of the O.G.s (original gamers) who have been at this since the Golden Age of the Arcade, the Amiga and Commodore 64, and the Atari 2600. The elder members of the gaming culture have been playing video games long enough such that, if they sit down and think about it, they can figure out what makes a good game or not, and judge other games by that jury-rigged theory. When it comes to looking at video games within a specific genre, a critical analysis becomes even more tenable – and if we look at Starcraft II in a critical manner, it’s not going to present the same picture that a review would.

The Starcraft II single-player campaign is very interesting. The attention to detail and graphics are top-notch, and the storytelling and RPG elements are appreciated additions. I’m logging my time spent with the campaign to validate just how much gaming I wring out of the title, and I’m already secure in my feeling that I’m going to get as much or more from the single player game as I do from most campaigns for console releases. The $60 price tag no longer bothers me.

The multiplayer game, however, seems devoid of any innovation short of what a third expansion to the original Starcraft would have brought, i.e. new units. I don’t follow the competitive South Korean leagues, but I’ve watched short documentaries, and Starcraft seems made into a completely different animal by the Koreans. Perhaps they utilize some real tactical acumen when it comes to the actual use of their armies, but what I experienced of online Starcraft play was that micro-intensive gameplay and rushing won the day.

Real Time Strategy games have evolved greatly in the 12 years since Starcraft and Brood War. In Company of Heroes, control of territory determines the resources one has to build and improve troops. Cover and positioning are immensely important. The real work is in the movement of one’s forces and their tactical positioning. This is real time strategy that concerns itself with combat, not base management. Dawn of War II has done away with resource management almost entirely. Strategic points are needed to call down reinforcements, and to gain logistical advantages like turret deployments, but if the game has micromanagement it is tactical in nature. Use of cover and unit interdependency are the name of the game.

In both of these titles, we see an evolution towards a grand strategy that increasingly focuses upon the actual use of military forces. RTS gameplay has moved from logistics and resource production and morphed more into a true tactical exercise. The new RTS title R.U.S.E. seems to continue the movement in this direction, taking things a step further in adding new levels of strategic subtlety based on potential threat of force rather than actual confrontation.

Along comes Starcraft II…and the gameplay hasn’t changed one meaningful whit from its predecessor. It is still micro-intensive gameplay where rushing wins the day. It no longer quite fits in with the other titles we dub “Real Time Strategy games.”  If we were talking about first person shooter titles, Company of Heroes and Dawn of War II would be normal, and Starcraft II would be “on rails.” From the videogamer.com review: “Multiplayer is a fast affair, epitomising the virtues of the rush and solid micromanagement.” A critical analysis of Starcraft II would not gloss over this. It would not call the game “thoroughly modern.”

To a point, Blizzard has dug themselves into the same hole that the Halo franchise has dug itself into. Halo represents a distinctly old style of first person shooter gameplay. It has fallen behind the times, and if the Beta is any indication, Halo:Reach is only making grudging steps forward into the modern FPS world. Halo is too popular a franchise to change, and so all the Halo titles blend together in terms of their gameplay. Starcraft is also too popular to change, and while the sequel may sell 10 million copies, it’s still a dinosaur, and any critical analysis must acknowledge this.

To be fair, Blizzard was in a lose/lose proposition. If they had taken some risks and shown some innovation which carried over into the multiplayer, the game would no longer have been Starcraft II in the eyes of devotees, but some other game entirely. Because they did not take any risks the game is effectively Starcraft 1.5 as soon as the campaign is over.

I have no problem with the reviews of Starcraft II other than those which are awarding perfect scores. Even if a review and a critical analysis are separate entities, I feel a reviewer should exercise some modicum of perspective and historical foresight in declaring what constitutes a “perfect” score. In some ways, this just shows the weakness of a 5-point scale, in that it’s much easier to hand out a 5/5 rather than a 10 or a 100. My problem is when we call these reviews “criticism” by labeling the authors “critics.”

The ultimate purpose of a review is not to make us think about game design, but rather to inspire or dissuade our purchase of the product being reviewed. That’s the reality of mainstream video game writing, and I call no foul on account of economic necessity…but I long for the day when video games have grown up enough where we DO have proper critics who can start calling spades, spades. Then I can read the reviews to decide whether I want to look into buying the game or not, and then slide over to the criticism to read the interesting stuff.

I have only pirated one game in my life. I had picked up the Xbox version of the Star Wars game Republic Commando, expecting it to work in my new Xbox 360. That’s when I discovered that the 360 hadn’t been updated yet such that Republic Commando was backwards-compatible, and there was no information about when the next title update was coming which would allow me to play the game. Angry and frustrated, I downloaded a copy of Republic Commando for PC from a bit torrent site. Just a few days later, the Xbox 360 received the needed update to allow me to play the console version, and I deleted the pirated PC version from my hard drive.

The only way I was able to deal with the qualms of Catholic conscience generated by pirating Republic Commando was that, in my mind, I’d already given the appropriate parties my money for the privilege of playing the game – and I was angry. It’s easy to justify this sort of thing when you’re angry.

I was discussing Starcraft II with a friend last night, and he told me that it wasn’t a game he’d be willing to buy, but he might pirate it. As the owner of copyrighted material, myself (a trio of screenplays written in my sordid youth), I am generally in favor of the arguments against piracy. Anyone who works hard to produce a product should be paid for the right to use said product.  In this case, however, I found it difficult to chastise my friend, because I understand his perspective.

I had Starcraft II in my hand last night, and I couldn’t pull the trigger on the purchase. Paying $60 for a PC title bothers me a little. There has always been something very satisfying about paying $10 less for games which often would have better graphics or deeper gameplay than console titles. I’m a cross-platform gamer, which means I dip from all the attitude pools; and there was something smugly pleasant about paying less and getting more.

Considering all the reports about the quality of Starcraft II, I could have stomached $60…but then I thought about those missing Zerg and Protoss campaigns. I’m into Starcraft for the lore, and the story. I actually owned the original three Starcraft figures (and sold them for a pretty penny on eBay recently). The cutscenes and little video clips were the best part of Starcraft for me. I didn’t have time to learn all the strategies and nuances of the game which were required to be successful in the multiplayer, and I have even less of that time now…and a great many more games to play. My stack of PS3 and Wii titles for these two new-to-me consoles keeps getting distressingly higher.

Edge magazine spoke to Starcraft II’s lead software engineer Carl Chimes about the decision to go with a Terran-only campaign:

“You’re calling the next two parts expansions, but each one focuses on a different race in single player – why did you decide to split the game up like this?

“CC Early on in the development of StarCraft II, we realised that we wanted to make the story so epic that it just wouldn’t fit in one box. So we had a number of choices and ultimately we decided to split that campaign up into three equally epic stories and deliver those as the base game in each of the expansions. Wings Of Liberty will focus on the Terrans, and future expansions will focus on the Zerg and Protoss.”

I have trouble with a line like “wouldn’t fit in one box.” PC games have frequently come on more than one disc.  Knights of the Old Republic came with 4. Blizzard really couldn’t have delivered the entire campaign experience in this release? Even if Blizzard claims that being tied to Activision doesn’t change its culture as a developer, that is a separate issue than their behavior as a company.

It’s not that I was surprised by the knowledge that I was only getting 1/3 of the story…but there’s no news as to when Heart of the Swarm will be released, and Legacy of the Void might not be out for years.

We’ve been told that they will be priced as expansions, but when the main game is now $60 what does that mean? $40 per expansion? Potentially $140 for the full experience I think deserved to be the baseline product? Blizzard had 12 years to develop this game, more than enough time to work on all three campaigns and release them simultaneously. I’m not sure that there’s really any excuse for holding back on the other two campaigns other than pure greed. I try to be fair in assessing the conduct of corporations, because they aren’t charities and deserve to profit by their efforts. This feels excessive, however.

Some reviewers care so little about the missing campaigns that they don’t even mention it, and others only give the consideration a passing nod. I read that there are allusions to be made to Wing Commander, and a 16-hour campaign is quite reasonable, considering that many $60 console titles can have campaigns that last only half as long…but it seems as though the majority of the value for Wings of Liberty is the multiplayer and Battle.net, neither of which hold other than passing interest for me.

I’m still going to buy Starcraft II, because I write about video games and this is one of those titles that simply must be played considering all the press it is going to generate for quite some time, but I can also write the purchase off on my taxes as a work expense. If I wasn’t writing about video games I wouldn’t feel this sense of immediacy, and the need to experience the game with as little outside tainting of opinion as possible.

If I was just coming at it as a gamer, however, I might wait for the price to come way down. I can understand why some people are going to pirate this particular title. When Blizzard starts talking like a proper corporation, which is to say, issuing silly statements about mistakes being proof of success, and hiking up prices, they begin to feel a little slimy to me, and that’s when I start finding it difficult to feel bad for the actions of the pirates. I don’t condone what they do…but in this instance, I would understand it.

I find it difficult to put into words how sickened I am by the current state of play within gaming. The three major console manufacturers are busy flexing their technological muscles, showing us who can make people look like the biggest prats in their own living room – an invisible skateboard ramp here and a twelve year-old imaginary friend there – all the while failing to realise that nobody actual wants to move about while they play.

After a long day, either at the office, where you were sent on a tea run by your boss, or at school being made to jog three extra laps because you got caught flipping coach the bird, the last thing you want to do is come home and do somersaults over your couch.

For a start, the idea of telling people openly that you’ll be spending five hours of your evening with a control pad in your hand is often a hair-raising experience, but informing that special someone, at home or your place of work/college, that you’ll be battling demons with an invisible sword could leave matters beyond repair.

You could also count the fact that if one is playing, say, X-Men Origins: Wolverine with 1:1 motion control, the image of a more than sweaty bastard comes to mind, doesn’t it? I was playing this very title on my PS3 of late and it struck me that every one of Logan’s moves would surely be impossible for even the fittest of freaks to manage. You wouldn’t have a cat’s hope in Hell of pulling off the attack that essentially involves acting like a human drill, or the other spinning thing, which would only result in a trip to Ikea for a new lamp shade and bookshelf, anyway.

Another angle to look at within the downside of this motion control trend is the possible isolation of less able-bodied people. For instance, if you are overweight, you’ll be less likely to power slide your way underneath that closing door or run up a fucking wall with your hands tied behind your back. Furthermore, if you are disabled in any way, you are instantly being at risk of being left out of this new fad.

And that’s what it is: a fad. Don’t get me wrong, I think some of the technology going into this is spot on, really pushing the envelope. I just don’t think there’ll be any good games to come out of much of it. Video games are supposed to allow us to “be all that we CAN’T be”, which is where this new “immersiveness” is bound to fall flat; we just don’t have it in us to behave like those characters do on screen when we have a control pad safely tucked into our clammy mits.

I wish I wasn't. Really.

To quote our very own Grahame when Project Natal featured on Jimmy Fallon:

“That does look rather cool, but how long would people want to play a Wii minigame for? Burnout was pretty awesome but unless the motion control gets developed further, I can see myself showing Natal off to friends for all of 20 mins, then reaching for a pad if I wanted to “really play” on Burnout.”

That is so well put that it doesn’t need expanding on.

For me, the most exciting aspect of gaming in 2009 is creativity. Games like LittleBigPlant and the upcoming ModNation Racers are what currently get me excited. It is this aspect that I feel is really here for the long haul – I hope so, at least. It is refreshing to need to use your mind and your own ingenuity at times, because you’ll be surprised at what you can achieve when you do so.

Microsoft and Sony are barking up a tree that is currently inhabited by Nintendo, who have that market sewn up, and fair play to them. I mean, who doesn’t own a Wii? And, if they do, who actually considers it to be their gaming bread and butter? Have some originality, Sony and Microsoft, for crying out loud; the bandwagon has long since gone.

So, come on guys, let’s see some more time, effort and resources put into games that really allow the player to feel like they are a part of the experience: through creativity. There is no better feeling in games at the moment than creating a fantastic level for all your friends to enjoy in LBP and, as long as I don’t need to be physically swinging from my light fixtures, I’d like to be doing much more of the same in future, on all platforms.

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When I first clapped eyes on the initial images of PSP Go, I was considerably unmoved. And now it seems that retailers are becoming equally pessimistic about the launch, having forecast a retail disaster earlier this week. Things are not boding well for PSP Go.

As reported on Gamer Limit, these independent retailers are becoming concerned by an apparent lack of interest towards the console, after it failed to attract any pre-orders whatsoever. And it’s not hard to see why.

My initial gripe with the PSP Go was the simple fact that it is yet another redesign, and not the official successor to the PSP that I was initially inclined to believe, i.e. PSP 2. Because let’s face it, the PSP has been something of a dead horse recently, so a brand new console, especially after the PSP’s now lengthy 4 year reign, would have been ideal, particularly after its lasting defeat against the DS. Instead, we were presented with that same haggard horse but now scaled down with a beefier 16GB stomach. It’s missing a vital organ too, as Sony is still oddly reluctant about performing a much needed transplant for an extra analogue stick.

The single most controversial feature however has been Sony’s somewhat questionable move over to the digital download format. For the consumer, this drastic change will not be suitable for many unless Sony devise a way to port over your UMD collection, but it is the retailer that could be the potential victim here. As retailer Chips stated, there is very little reason to even stock the system, due to the PSP Go’s sloppy business model as a result of shifting to the downloadable medium. And I’m inclined to agree with them, as unless Sony adopts a voucher based distribution system, the retailer obviously won’t get any other primary benefits without selling their own stock of games, and the fact still remains that limiting the games to download only restricts your collection to the amount of games that will fit on the hard drive. The lack of UMD could indeed prove to be more convenient for some however, but at what cost?

Upon launch, PSP Go will set you back $249, although Amazon UK is currently listing the PSP Go at a speculative price of £229.99, which, all things considered, is extortionate and unfounded when you consider that the current PSP is struggling to sell at around £130. As I mentioned before, this is still the same console but with an added bulk of memory and it doesn’t even have a UMD drive anymore, so it seems difficult to justify the price tag. Of course, the pricing for the UK model has not been officially announced as of yet, but you can guarantee that we will receive the shortest straw as per usual.

And then there’s the design. In hindsight, I will admit that the original embodiment of the PSP was a tad overweight, so the diet that was fed to the 2000 and 3000 models was very welcome, but the PSP Go is said to be a further 50% smaller, which of course means that the screen will consequently be affected. Granted, the more compact size will no doubt do well in making the console live up to its name by being more portable (and, heaven forbid, may now actually fit comfortably in your pocket), but the size of the original PSP’s screen was one of its most acclaimed attributes. Along with the lack of an extra analogue stick, the positioning of the new stick is also cause for concern – presumably Sony are marketing the console for baboons, but I will reserve judgement until I have grasped the console for myself.

I even have reservations with the name. PSP Go – say it. It sounds like it was moulded out of cheddar cheese and just doesn’t seem right somehow; despite the attempt to form a consistency with Sony’s other line of Go branded products. Afterall, approaching, and subsequently pointing at, random bystanders exclaiming “YOU THERE! Buy a PSP…Go” isn’t likely to have the same effect as it did for me in the past.

All in all, apart from the added convenience factor, I am really struggling to find a fathomable reason for existing PSP owners to upgrade to Sony’s “new” handheld, and I fear that newcomers alike will be put off by the pricing when it is launched come this October.

I severely dislike the “rhythm game” genre. Ever since Dance Dance Revolution came out, I’ve always found the genre to just be a bit ridiculous. I’m a real musician and I already like to dance – making DDR, Guitar Hero, and Rock Band seem a bit superfluous – but there’s a much better reason, in my opinion: In these games, all I’m doing is pressing buttons to my favorite songs.

There is only one rhythm game I’ve ever played that actually had a thoroughly interesting concept to me: Gitaroo Man. Originally released to obscurity on the Playstation 2 way back in 2002, it got a re-release four years later on PSP. Now, to be honest, I don’t think Gitaroo Man’s gameplay is that great, either; but it certainly got me closer to enjoying a rhythm game than the “big three”  ever did.

To give a rundown of Gitaroo Man for the people who have never played it: Gitaroo Man features completely original music. You and your opponent start out with a lifebar that starts out maybe half-filled. You fill it by playing the intro as best as you can. Afterward, the song goes into a bunch of back-and-forth solos. When you’re playing a solo, you’re on the offensive, trying to take down someone’s lifebar. When your opponent is playing a solo, you’re on the defensive, hitting buttons at the right time to guard against damage. If both players make it through all the solo sections alive, the winning player will play the outro alone, giving him a final chance seal the win or totally blow it.

The problem is, Gitaroo Man‘s gameplay is done in such a boring way. The game is played on a PS2 controller. When you ‘play’ your instrument, all you do is hold down a button and turn the analog stick in a certain direction. When guarding against attacks, you press the correct corresponding front panel buttons. The guarding isn’t bad, but it’s easy to see why the game isn’t quite as exhilarating as Guitar Hero or Rock Band: the “controller playing” is just so disconnected!

I can’t help but think, though: what if there was a game played with the toy guitars, mics, and drums, but blended it with the gameplay concept of Gitaroo Man? You’d have tons of original music (no pressing buttons to your favorite songs) and about thirty different solos recorded over the solo section (that way, the song would always sound different every time you played it). The intro/solo/outro phases would add a fun spin on the competition, as well.

I’m way too cynical to believe a game like this will ever be released, at least not by Neversoft or Harmonix. After all, why should they? Guitar Hero and Rock Band are huge money-making successes; why change the formula? Still, a rhythm game like this would be the kind of thing that actually made me really enjoy them – and believe me, I want to enjoy them. Alas, until that happens, I’ll continue to go to parties where Rock Band is played, explain to people why I don’t want to play when it’s ‘my turn’, and usually do better than them when they dare to taunt me with the words, “I bet you just don’t like it cuz you suck.”

Ah, the internet poll: How worthless you are. Cheaters will cast multiple votes on you by refreshing the page or using proxies. You are easily skewed and meaningless as a measurement of anything. Ron Paul is a perfect example on how internet polls shouldn’t be taken so seriously. He would single-handily win them if they actually represented voter intention, but the same didn’t happen outside the internet world.

If you’re like me, who frequents many gaming sites, you’ll notice that most will have some sort of poll. I take my time to vote for my favorite, but at many occasions, my choice isn’t in the lead. It won’t change my opinion towards my choice or prove anything meaningful. Internet polls basically serve as a form of entertainment (GameFaqs’ “Greatest Game of All Time” poll is a perfect example), but to fanboys, they are truly serious business.

A few weeks ago, CNET ran a poll, asking their readers which racing sim will be best: Forza Motorsport 3 or Gran Turismo 5. There were no options for “both games are going to be great” or “both games will suck”; it was just vote for GT5 or FM3. The poll might as well read “click here if you’re a Sony fanboy or click here if you’re an Xbot” because you know the poll was going to cause a fanboy war.

The shit really hit the fan when news about the poll made its way to N4G, and the headline read, “Forza Better Than GT 5, Says Vote.” I was hoping that people would ignore this or call it pointless because it was an online poll, but the fanboys made a big deal out of this.

A couple of them treated this as the Holy Grail or the be-all, end-all of all arguments. Here are a few comments:

“Zhuk: Xbox 360 and Turn 10 are victorious against the evil Sony Empire in this poll. Gamers have chosen Forza 3 as the ultimate simulator franchise this generation.”

“Vhero: Even when offering a free gift they cant win?? how much proof do we need which games better before they have even been released?”

“mirroredderorrim: It’s good to be the King.”

Yes, a poll where 40,000 (completely unfiltered or cross checked) people voted is an accurate representation of millions of gamers, and it also determines which game is better. I loved how Vhero acknowledges that both games aren’t even out, yet he treats the poll as something significant.

There was even a celebration post at N4G where GT 5 was dubbed “King of all Driving Sims” which is pretty silly because both games aren’t out, and it didn’t win anything meaningful; it didn’t even win the poll.

But wait, there’s more to this farce. What made this poll so popular was because Turn 10, the developers of Forza, were giving away a free car to those who voted for Forza 3. Some people were calling it bribing, but it was blown completely out of proportion.

It was posted on the Forza forums where the users were most likely going to vote for Forza 3, and the free car was limited to Forza 2 owners. Also, Turn 10 weren’t asking for proof; all you had to do was say “I voted,” even if you didn’t vote for the game. If Turn 10 were giving away free prizes to GT5 fans, then you can somewhat call it bribing.

The voting would have a similar effect if Turn 10 informed the forum goers about the poll without mentioning a free prize – I have no idea why they didn’t do that unlike Sony. Sure it’s a little silly that Turn 10 would bother to do such a thing over an internet poll, but stuff like this happens all the time to them. You guys are treating like it’s a federal crime.

“SpoonyRedMage: OMFG Turn 10 are giving Forza 2 owners who go on the Forza forums a free car in Forza 2 if they vote for them in a poll!!!! OMFG. They’re practically handing out bags of money!”

Well of course. How else do you think Scrooge McDuck got so rich?

Lastly, it was an online poll. Why are you all taking them so seriously? I can’t stress enough how pointless they are. Nothing bad was going to happen if your game didn’t win it. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world. The winner wasn’t automatically going to become the better game or get better sales. It’s not like an internet poll was going to affect your purchase decision or opinion on the games.

The poll is over and guess what? Nothing happened. We’re still waiting for the games and debating which one will be better; Forza fans still prefer Forza 3 while Gran Turismo fans still prefer Gran Turismo 5. Next time, please don’t take internet polls so seriously.

Gamers are growing up, and as a result, so is gaming. Sitting on the top of a mountain after what was almost a ferocious rise, our once marginalized hobby has hit the mainstream. But at what cost? Have we allowed the rest of societies’ ills to flood in and kill the simple pleasure of playing a game, mirroring the same corruption of music and film?

I wrote earlier this week about bloggers and main gaming sites taking shortcuts, churning out simple content to pull hits and fill chunks of dead air on slow news days. Following on from that, my sights are set on Olivia Munn, presenter and “journalist” of G4′s “Attack of the Show” and the furphy around her appearance in, and subsequently also on the cover of, Playboy.

I read an article recently that; besides being little more then a directly targeted, terribly written, bigoted, hate spewing manifesto; made a loose reference to the rise of the “fake woman gamer”. This being someone who uses their gender, rather then their intelligence, knowledge, or skill, to use and abuse the affection shown to the geek girl by the more desperate of our gaming brethren.

Now, while I don’t agree with the large majority of the author’s comments, especially since I know quite a few very talented female journalists who do it for the same reasons I do, there are real examples of this particular ‘gamersploitaton’ in action. Case in point – Olivia Munn.

Not only had she, prior to becoming a host on G4, admitted she knew practically nothing about videogames, its almost plainly obvious her constant appearances in Playboy plus her exposure on G4 are simply there to push her career from modeling to B- grade acting.

This kind of crap is one of the biggest reasons female journalists are constantly the target of angry male gamers. Generalization is a nasty thing, and regardless of how successful and talented female gamers become, the Olivia Munns of the world will be quick to stomp on their work by showing a bit of TNA and condemning gaming to the same arena as Nascar.

Many of you will probably be quick to jump up and claim that G4 isn’t a great television representation of the game world. I’d be inclined to agree. In most cases, most video game blogs will follow the story because it generates those tasty ad revenue hits and fills those precious news spots at 7pm. Main gaming sites probably will too, for the same reasons.

In the case of G4, the issue is that it’s one of the few windows that many non-gamers will see. If we’re trying to push gaming to a point where it’s taken as seriously as film or music, creaming our pants every time a “girl gamer” gets into a bikini isn’t really the best way to head there. As someone on posting a comment on Destructoid eloquently put it, its a classic case of “Tits for Hits”.

In the end, why don’t we give real girl gamers, journalists and developers the benefit of the doubt and stop supporting those who are out simply to get their piece of the pie. Gaming is one of those fantastic mediums where gender is irrelevant, where the aim is developing the best games possible with the media taking an important place alongside to critique and push developers to create better and more refined experiences.

We need to grow up and start recognizing the work, rather then the “quirk” of the female gamer. It’s not rare anymore to see a woman playing on Live, writing an article for Gamespot (or Gamer Limit for that matter) or creating the games we play in the first place.

G4 could actually grow a pair and hire someone who actually knows and is passionate about gaming. Australia’s very own Good Game did just that, which just also happens to be one of the most popular shows on its channel.

But hey, sex sells doesn’t it? Can’t beat natural instinct. I wonder if the Frag Dolls are available for a Gamer Limit photo shoot…

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been struggling through a drought of new PC games. But instead of randomly purchasing new titles, I decided to go back and play two of my favorite RTS titles: Warcraft 3 and Empire: Total War. During the nostalgic moment, I noticed one distinct element; they both implement the hero system.

It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that heroes are important to the RTS genre. On the other hand, it is a concept that is often overlooked. It’s an idea that seems so basic, but at the same time, it gives the genre a much needed boost. For this week’s Soapbox, I will be exploring the relationship between Player and Heroes.

Before Warcraft 3, I never encountered a system that rewarded players for their survival and aggression in the way that it did; it was always build, mass, over run. Instead of blasting a battalion into the enemy, hero control taught me how to micro manage every unit until their very last breath. For example, the Dread Lord’s Vampiric Aura restores nearby friendly unit’s HP. While attacking an enemy force, I would always pay specific attention to units receiving heavy amounts of damage.

Damage dealt is life gained. Instead of letting one unit receive all the damage, simply removing the unit away from the action, so that enemies would focus on different units is extremely detrimental to the game. It prolonged a unit’s life, added damage to the fight and restored HP. As a result, it added much more depth to the game, and it taught me control and patience.

Similarly, special hero abilities and boosts are the strength of one’s armies and the demise of the enemy. It’s the abilities and boosts that give armies the edge in battle. Without them, armies are vulnerable, generally resulting in the death of any player or computer. As the general of my armies, it was always better to sacrifice a handful of common units than lose your captain.

On the other hand, while playing Empire: Total War, I noticed that strong leaders are only gained through experience. There is always the option to buy leaders, but they are generally expensive and they are never as strong as experienced veterans.

Also, the game created a sentimental relationship between George Washington and I. While playing the game, I always went to such great lengths to avoid his death. He gave my units morale boots, and in return, I supported him with virtual currency (Sucker!). Aside from that, losing George Washington never felt right. Whether he lived or died, the game always went on, but it was never the same.

Why is this important? The porting of heroes into RTS titles drastically changed the way we play the game. In Starcraft, the game was based on fast fingers and extreme dexterity. The person who could build the largest army the fastest was generally the winner, but when Warcraft 3 was released, it drastically changed the style. It placed a heavier emphasis on control and patience. When you lost your heroes, it generally meant certain death. Of course battles could still be won, but it was much harder.

Aside from hero control, basic hero management extended to basic game play. Resources are scarce, new units are costly, and training is time consuming. Taking the lessons from hero control and applying it to basic unit management ultimately made players smarter. As a result, the relationship between hero and player is often overlooked, but it is a link that should be examined closer.

Dearest Blizzard – I have a problem. You see, I’ve developed an unhealthy addiction to Starcraft 2 – never mind the fact that it’s yet to be released – I can’t be bothered to consider such minutia. I’m much too busy re-watching Battle reports, and then absorbing, digesting, and analyzing the excreted remains of every morsel of information you toss my way.

I’ve managed to maintain my composure since you announced it in 2007 – but the tension is building, and I’m not sure how much longer I can last. Rather than deprive me the object of my desire and risk various unwanted effects, I’d like to propose a compromise. If you agree to provide me with a Beta Key to Starcraft 2, I will happily conform to any of the following:

1. Singlehandedly finish development on Duke Nuke’m Forever.
It’s was probably going to be released this year anyway.

2. Eat a grapefruit.
I don’t even like grapefruit.

3. Shoot myself in the foot feet.
Do you know how many feet I need to play Starcraft 2? Zero. That’s how many.

4. Donate my firstborn child.
Straight up.

5. Donate my second-born child.
It’s easier than explaining to him what happened to his brother.

6. Watch Flavor of Love seasons 1 and 2 (Again).
So long as you promise not to ask why I watched them the first time around.

7. Promise to never zergling rush, ever.
Never mind. What would be the point?

8. Switch from Skippy to Jiff.
This is like switching from oxygen to mustard gas for me, so I hope you appreciate its value. “Choosy moms” my ass.

9. Promise to never mention Starcraft: Ghost ever again.
It’ll be like it never happened.

10. Quit drinking.

10. Quit drinking on weekdays.

10. Quit drinking on weekdays before noon.

10. Quit drinking on weekdays before noon, alone.
From now on, weekday morning binges will include the first homeless guy I see on my way home from the liquor store.

11. Promise not to make a Use Map Settings game in which the Terran “Viking” is a Decepticon.
A flyer that “transforms” into a bipedal mech? It’s more than meets the eye!

12. Take your mother out for a nice Italian dinner.
Anything more than that, and I’ll need in to Diablo III beta as well. We’ll talk.

13. Eat a pie.
But I won’t admit that pie is better than cake, because that simply isn’t true.

14. Divide by zero.
I’m prepared to face the consequences.

15. Tattoo a SC2 logo onto my upper arm.
Hey, Peter Moore did it, and he turned out alright.

16. Fight Chuck Norris.
This item has been removed by Chuck Norris.

17. Play World of Warcraft again.
You’ve hooked me, my friends, my family – hell, even my girlfriend is playing WoW these days. I’ll re-subscribe, and help refill the ink on your money-printer.

18. Give you five dollars.
That’s five more dollars than you’d have if you said “no”. Think about that.

19. Explain to you the plot of LOST.
Hint: It has to do with – POST EDITED BY DHARMA INITIATIVE.

20. Halt Global Warming.
Or if you’d prefer, I could instead advance Global Warming. I don’t know about you, but I think Waterworld was pretty badass.

So there you have it Blizzard – 20 things I’d happily do if you were to provide me with a Starcraft 2 Beta key. If you think of something that isn’t included in the list, get in touch with my people and we’ll work something out. I’m negotiable.

The thing about great graphics is that they have a habit of being too good. There they are in glorious 1080p, slapping you in the face and squeezing your bum cheeks until your eyes water with joy. In some cases, the detail is such that you’ll feel like you are leading a double life – a part-time human with a job, an angry cat and phone bill and a part-time supercharged weapon of death, wreaking havoc on slimy things with red eyes. It’s a good life if you can get it.

Of course, things weren’t always like this. In fact, there was a time where games looked like utter shit in comparison. But it’s never mattered to me. I remember picking up games because the front cover looked cool. I couldn’t make out the screenshots on the back and, if I could, I ignored them; the cover alone was an adventure for me and I was lost in that world.

The first time I saw the cover for Doom, I was in utter awe. Look at it, just bloody well look at it! There is guy wearing the coolest looking space marine ensemble ever (with his six pack showing for good measure) standing on a pile of something, shooting what is clearly The Devil in the face.

You just got yourself a sale.

This image alone, along with the contents of the instruction manual, captured my imagination and got me psyched up for my journey to Mars, before I’d even loaded the thing up. While, in reality, I was on the bus home from the shop, in my mind I was part of an elite squad heading to the Red Planet in search of some alien demon blood.

OK, so the look of the game may have dated since, but when I played it back in the mid-nineties, I was there. I was just there, every step of the way. The beauty of it was that I was stimulating my mind at the same time as playing. I was recreating the events of the front cover.

Going back to the Commodore 64, things were even further escalated. Golden Axe, for example, just had to be good, judging by the front cover. And it was. At this stage, I was probably playing my older siblings’ copies, but finding these treasures under the bed and loading them up was an experience that my imagination has definitely grown stronger from as a result. These simply coded titles looked nothing yet everything like they were advertised.

It were these oil-painted re-workings of the actions that were being played out on screen that made me fall in love with gaming, I am sure of it. And, to tell you the truth, I am really beginning to miss the idea of being required to use my mind to add the final touches to great games. It’s all too easy now.

Game coverart needs to go up a step, to bring back this great divide. I want to see what I can’t do in-game on the cover, so my mind can do the rest. Even though graphics have stepped up and we have the internet to tell us exactly what we can expect from a game before it’s even out, I’d like to attempt to claim back some of the romance that game covers gave me over the years.

Call of Duty: World at War boasted one of the most realistic and intense battles in FPS history. But the front cover didn’t do this justice; it should have gone above and beyond, much like Doom did. It should have been hand-painted, depicting an army general holding up some poor Japanese bugger by his balls, while simultaneously volleying away a grenade and BBQ-ing six other guy’s faces with a flame thrower.

Do you see what I’m getting at?

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