I hate Shadow of the ColossusShadow of the Colossus is one of those games that really just gets under your skin. Most critics I read said that the game was a cinematic and gaming masterpiece. I'm convinced to say its over rated. That is because I got to the 4th boss and I already became so frustrated that I was inclined to curse repeatedly (as quiet as possible as I only have about 40 square feet to say "you fucking fuck fuck fuck!!! Get on your fucking horse!!!")
My reasons:
I can't get on my horse unless I hit the triangle button repeatedly. I have to keep doing this because the horse either keeps rearing into the air or the camera puts me looking straight at the horse and turns a different direction as I continue to hit the button over and over just jumping and jumping again and again.
The horse has an idiot AI. It runs away when you're trying to call it. It gets stuck behind trees. It runs away over and over and over again. If I wanted to play the game "FIND YOUR FUCKING HORSE!" I would have been happy to do this for 5 minutes every time I attempt at getting on the fucking thing.
The camera only shows the artsy side of myself that is, instead of a top down 3/4 view I have a horizontal 3/4 view meaning I only see the character and horse at the very left or right edge of the screen and everything else to its side. This means I have little concept of location,depth or relative speed. I end up running into walls, trees, the colossus, running over cliffs all as I'm just trying to figure out what is to my left.
There is an included "press L1 to look at the colossus". All this does is focus the camera at the colossus' head which only gives me a stylized look at the character and the colossus meaning that I just get a confusing look at what I'm going after which really only makes it harder to figure out your method of attack.
Here's the thing. You're supposed to play a game because its fun. The first 3 bosses were fun and challenging. The fourth? Its completely impossible. I've seen Youtube videos showing how to do it and I keep trying and it makes no sense that I can actually do what is shown in the video. I'm sure its possible, but its not actually. I managed to get on the second ledge on the back legs but because the damned thing won't stop moving I can't managed to move without losing my grip and hanging on and getting my grip back and then losing it because the colossus moves again and I lose the grip and hang on and yadda yadda yadda.
Its not at all intuitive as the suggested strategy is to hide in a hole until the colossus goes digging for you. Here is the problem: You have to actually lure the thing (like a fish) slowly and surely into place (the correct place that is) and if you decide to creep around the tunnels below and out of one of the other holes, the thing sees you even though you're hidden behind the entrance.
I could go on and I could write it as poorly as I've written this. But honestly all that matters is that while Shadow of the Colossus is a good game in terms of graphics and concept, the game play makes me want to have an aneurysm because all the guy who created the game wanted to see pretty things while you're trying to FUCKING DO ANYTHING!!!
Update:While I later have defeated the 4th Colossus, I'm now on the 9th but still feel the same about this game. Its hearalded for its "realism", but I still feel like its no more than a cool idea wrapped up in the inconsistencies and incompatabilities of artsists who think of pretty things but don't remember that this is being played by a kids who say "pwned" and "lolz" and not art critics.
¶ 7/31/2006 10:43:00 PM3 comments
Friday, July 14, 2006
People who I know who I refer to with proper nouns!I happened upon some of my former classmates work from Comm 383. I hope they don't mind me putting some of that up here. I'll give you credit guys. But I highly doubt you will find this page anyways. Am I talking to myself?
Peter Siestrzewitowski, Mario Troia, Nigel McFarlane: Rusty Cage (I was involved with this one for about a day)
Jorge Herrera & Matt Hance: The Beat Down
Jonathan Fernandez: The Admiral & Betrayal
Is it lame to post videos? I mean, they're quite entertaining and absolutly all the rage on the Internet (why is it capitalized by the way? I mean, I guess its a proper noun, but so is pickle and thats not capitalized) [wait, is pickle a proper noun?] {uhhhhhh.......}
Update:Mollie tells me "hahahahhaa pickle is a simple noun because there are lots of them. there is only one internet. rock"
¶ 7/14/2006 04:05:00 PM0 comments
This post is intended to lessen the seriousness of the previous postBecause I don't want to be completely bummed out and have only a bummer of a post, I thought I should hand out some entertaining YouTube clips to even it out.
I just wanted to tell you that I had a dream last night. I was in a different version of "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". Basically, it was yourself, myself, Mollie, Tory and a few others who I think were just placeholders to keep the story interesting and moving. The story was different in just about every way because it had nothing to do with the entire story.
In anycase, we were traveling through the world (it was really quite linear) doing the adventure thing. But for some reason, you and Tory were always trailing us and kept your distance at all times. We'd be walking through some museum curated by an ecstatic older fellow who claimed to be the proprietor and display maker of the museum (turns out he was) but she and you would be distant and trailing the rest of us. There also was the dressy dinner on a hill with a steep incline where they served alcoholic Jones soda and Chocolate Milk. I ended up sitting by myself (Mollie wasn't there for some reason). It was odd because you both were so distant and I couldn't manage to get your attention or even try to figure out what was going on between you two.
What is really sad is that this isn't a dream. Or at least the whole distance thing, because I'd be all over alcoholic Jones soda. Seriously though. What the fuck man? Whats going on? Why the distance? All I want to do is help and maybe tell you that I wish I was at your birthday bar hop and I wish that you and Tory would stop all this internet feuding (Myspace isn't a secret hideout, its just been deemed most frequented on the internet [source: hitwise]).
Just talk to me sometime ok? I want to be your friend. Friends want to help and support.
Trip the shrooms fantasticDreams to me are usually not something that I really put much weight into because of the crock ideas used to analyze them (ie. bathing means I want to go back into the womb. I mean WTF?). Even further, I don't really understand my dreams whatsoever in such a way that I don't even know if they're worth looking into because they're often full of absurd things that should be kept secret since my brain likes to dream about things like ice cream monsters and the like.
In addition to bogus dreams, I also get prophetic dreams. The ones where later you see the event you dreamed about in your mind. These freak you out ("freak ouuuttt!" ~ Rob Cooper) and the people you tell that you dreamed of that very moment. Although what makes last night's dream interesting is how prophetic the Internet was today as this is what I came across:
Sleeping...
Wasted...
and Hallucinating
Björk also had a part in this whole thing as she and her performance-artist butt seems to just want to make the world even stranger. As well as making Pandas sexy. (see right)
Anyways, the dream I had last night is worth repeating. I'm going to keep it simple so that I don't confuse you:
I was at the wedding of Paris Hilton and some person who I thought was Tom Blowe.
I was there with Chris and some girl who looked like someone I knew but I couldn't pinpoint it.
We were sitting in the pews of a very laid back chapel with lots of windows and lots of green paint.
At some point the ceremony started but it wasn't being conducted by a religious official but rather by Paris and the Tom Blowe guy.
It was really loose ended as they didn't really finish the rituals very well which were usually hurried or skipped over, kind of like a rehearsal, but I was fully dressed for a wedding, not a rehearsal.
Suddenly the whole congregation's wrists and ankles were latched onto by metal clasps that held us in our seats. For whatever reason I was the only one protesting.
At that moment, Paris and Tom started walking towards the back of the chapel and drew a large quantity of medical syringes from a canvas Army bag and started to distribute injections to all of the attendees.
As they got to me they just coldly looked at me and started to inject me while I was trying to get their attention and ask them what they were doing.
I struggled while they injected me. But it did no go as in a matter of moments as the room started to spin I could see that the rest of the people there had passed out and they were giving the injection to Chris who could have cared less that he was being restrained and drugged.
When I came to, the clasps retracted and I noticed almost everyone in the chapel had left except for a few dazed people, still sitting, Chris and the girl.
Paris and Tom were packing up things that were set up for the wedding into a red convertible that was freshly driven through the wall as the dust cloud was still lingering in the room.
I started to scream at them for doing what they did to us. I tried getting up but my head felt like it was filled with concrete as were my feet.
I continued to scream asking "why did you do this?", "who are you?", and my favorite "I'm only 21! I'm too young to be involved with religious interrogative drugging or governmental corruption!" There was also lots of swearing.
I asked Chris and the girl if they knew what had happened and they more or less gave me a cold shoulder saying that they didn't know and we should go to lunch.
I looked down and noticed that there was a prescription receipt on my lap (which for whatever reason I told myself that I knew that everyone else who was injected had one too).
The receipt was for a drug called "Triceptices".
As I left the chapel I saw outside the doors two large canvas bags like the ones that the needles were kept in, opened one and saw that there was a great deal of cash in the bag.
Chris and the girl went ahead of me and I walked around for a while.
I went to Shoneys (which had been the place we went to the day after Cary and Paul's wedding) to meet with Chris and the girl.
The Maître d' (why Shoneys had one is beyond me) was dressed in a nurse's scrubs. Thinking she'd know what the drug was that I was prescribed on the receipt I asked if she could tell me about it.
Apparently (in her words), Triceptices is some sort of amalgamation of Iron, Sodium, Rubber, Sulfur and a wide variety of other materials made up the drug and had two forms.
Outside the Body- When dropped on blood outside the body, this drug quickly forms a sphere of Iron the size of a basket ball. In mere seconds round balloons start protruding from one side of the ball and longer more animal balloon like balloons protrude from the other side forming a dreadfully wicked looking formation that floats until it dissolves after expelling all of its energy which is generated by the original blood pumping through the long balloons to the round balloons in a way that resembles a heart.
Inside the Body- A similar occurence forms within the body but at a much smaller scale as the blood that is available is both moving within the veins and there is more blood to go around. While this formation is replicating in your bloodstream you yourself will start to float much like the balloon. The real use of the drug is to give you a sense of elation (which is awfully punny if I must say) and complete forgetfulness. Often patients take the drug to forget their problems.
I was not going to take this drug under any circumstances. Thankfully no one was holding down my wrists and ankles or forcing the medication in me anymore. Although I wasn't sure if I could be sure of what had been injected into me before.
I sat down at a table that was populated by Chris, the girl, Tyson Beck (a friend of Joe Friend's), and a fat guy who looked like Joe Gross. (see right)
I started to eat some food (of all the details here I can't remember what I was eating) when all of the sudden I passed out.
From there I woke up from my dream a whole two hours after I wanted to get up in the first place. This is the sort of stuff that my dreams are made of. Although this one was actually really involving and actually quite scary.
Mollie says that the dreams that keep her awake are the ones that feel like you're swirling around (which I would equate with dizziness). But I don't feel like when I have any dreams that I lose sleep. In fact I think I probably gain sleep as my dreams keep me involved with what is going on.
I'd like to differ with scientists who think dreaming is the brains way of rejuvenating or just random synapses firing which happen to only occur during the REM stage of sleep which is supposed to only last a half hour. My dreams seem like a completely different world that last for far longer than a half hour. If there is anything that I believe is that it is random because I know that a few parts of my dream were from this weekend's wedding retreat.
Whatever. I'm glad I got to remember this dream as long as I have. I just never really get to hold onto the ones where I eat the entire ice cream monster where I don't even care if I get fat.
¶ 7/07/2006 12:34:00 PM0 comments
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Encumbered _____________The Fourth of July was fun. Its all I can say.
By the way, on the ride home Mollie and I came up with a most immature redux of a word that was actually brought up quite a bit this weekend at Cary's wedding (which I will post on later).
Forexample "I was researching the fundamentals of internet memes so that I could stay abreast in today's technological society." Our redux is very simple: "I was researching the fundamentals of internet memes so that I could stayaboobie in today's technological society." Lastly, there were buckets of Jones' soda. Bubble gum, Berry, Cream Soda. It was totally great because of this and also the copius amounts of hot dogs, mile high club sandwiches and whoopee pies.
Something you may not know about Mollie is that she is really quite messy and barbaric with crabs.
My short statement of the whole thing was that it was filled with people of a wide variety of donation amounts as well as those who are yet to be a part of this grand almsgiving. They are very nice people and awfully well dressed as well as patriotic as they know what is right for this country.*