Also, new character? Yes, please!
Fifty cool points to the first person who identifies the clouds outside the window in panels two and three.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Adventures of Clip and Art #9
Like Rear Window
Whell! Suffice it to say I'm far more pleased with this strip than the last one. Especially the last panel. I can't take credit for figuring out how to get the lighting to work, but executing the idea and seeing the end result fills me with mirth bordering on auto-erotic ecstasy.
Also, new character? Yes, please!
Fifty cool points to the first person who identifies the clouds outside the window in panels two and three.
Also, new character? Yes, please!
Fifty cool points to the first person who identifies the clouds outside the window in panels two and three.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
What a difference two and a half years make...
I first played Trauma Center: Second Opinion and Trauma Center: New Blood in May 2008, and I fucking loved them. I just finished replaying both games, and I did not fucking love them anymore. What happened in the interim that could have caused such a marked change? What gives?
First, let's examine how I felt about the medical simulation series the first time I played it. At the time, Trauma Center marked my first outing with the Nintendo Wii, a system I had previously written off as a gimmick. Imagine my surprise, then, to find a Wii game that was not only fun to play, but also downright exhilarating. It turned the control scheme from an imbecilic gimmick to an immersive gem, requiring one to not only keep track of a million things at one time - the patient's vitals, the time remaining, the need to switch between half a dozen medical tools rapidly in the course of a single operation - but also requiring one's hands to reflex at practically inhuman speeds to keep up with it all. Furthermore, the stories in these games were chock full of enough intrigue, terrorism, and medical-ethical conflicts to make Lost, 24, and Grey's Anatomy green with envy, respectively, and the characters were all discrete and likable enough to win me over.
Fast forward almost three years to my second playthrough of Trauma Center in preparation for the recently-released Trauma Team. Now I'm thinking of the few dozen operations in Second Opinion, only about ten of them are actually any different. Now I'm thinking the controls are pretty damn gimmicky, at best. At worst, they don't even really work the way they're meant to. Now I'm thinking the characters are about as flat, cliched, or retarded as they come (no, seriously, play New Blood as though Valerie Blaylock is mentally challenged and only passed medical school because of her superhuman operating speed; it makes it make so much more sense that anyone would put up with her bullshit). Now I'm thinking these games just ain't as good.
And it doesn't really end there. I recently tried to play Eternal Sonata, a game which I regretfully purchased at launch in November 2008 but didn't get around to until January 2011. Four hours told me all I needed to know about that experience, particularly that it was going to be woefully repetitive, with a cast of stock JRPG characters: the Magical Girl, the Wiser Older Man, the Brash Young Hero, the Goofy Genius Child. But I can't help but think if I'd played Eternal Sonata right when I bought it, apart from actually getting my sixty dollars' worth, I would have really enjoyed it.
Then there's God of War, a game I absolutely despised in 2005 for its brevity, weak dialogue, and poor characterization, but upon replaying it in late 2009, it stunned me with its haunting take on Greek mythology and its very focused portrayal of Kratos as an individual so far gone down the path of violent abandon he can hardly be called a man anymore.
And there's Grand Theft Auto, a series I couldn't be arsed to consider playing five years ago. Now, its fourth numbered entry is a landmark in video game design.
All of these one-eighties are not merely the product of me playing better games with greater frequency in the latter half of the last decade. If that were true, then I wouldn't have liked Trauma Center in the first place, because I can point to at least a dozen better games right from where I'm sitting that preceded Trauma Center in release. Those games should have told me not to like Trauma Center, those bastards, but they didn't, so I can only conclude that, at the time, Trauma Center did genuinely have a place among their ranks. And while I have changed a lot in the last five years, I don't think those changes really had much to do with video games.
Ultimately, I have to look at the state of video games today, and that state is Heavy Rain. That state is Red Dead Redemption. Hell, as much as I hate to admit it, that state is Mass Effect 2. These games define the medium today and are shaping the medium for tomorrow, and none of them have their roots in Japanese cliches or in completely sequestering story from gameplay. They have their roots in games with fresh, focused narratives; with living, breathing open worlds; and with systems of meaningful player input. It's hard to go back and play a game with a cheap story that may as well come on a separate DVD for all it has to do with the gameplay and still think it's among the best and brightest video games have to offer when we know that video games have left that structure in their dust.
It's going to be even more fun writing this article again in five years, when the next video game paradigm shift occurs, and playing and liking Red Dead Redemption seems like a fool's errand. Haha... hahaha... haaaa... like that will ever happen...
First, let's examine how I felt about the medical simulation series the first time I played it. At the time, Trauma Center marked my first outing with the Nintendo Wii, a system I had previously written off as a gimmick. Imagine my surprise, then, to find a Wii game that was not only fun to play, but also downright exhilarating. It turned the control scheme from an imbecilic gimmick to an immersive gem, requiring one to not only keep track of a million things at one time - the patient's vitals, the time remaining, the need to switch between half a dozen medical tools rapidly in the course of a single operation - but also requiring one's hands to reflex at practically inhuman speeds to keep up with it all. Furthermore, the stories in these games were chock full of enough intrigue, terrorism, and medical-ethical conflicts to make Lost, 24, and Grey's Anatomy green with envy, respectively, and the characters were all discrete and likable enough to win me over.
Fast forward almost three years to my second playthrough of Trauma Center in preparation for the recently-released Trauma Team. Now I'm thinking of the few dozen operations in Second Opinion, only about ten of them are actually any different. Now I'm thinking the controls are pretty damn gimmicky, at best. At worst, they don't even really work the way they're meant to. Now I'm thinking the characters are about as flat, cliched, or retarded as they come (no, seriously, play New Blood as though Valerie Blaylock is mentally challenged and only passed medical school because of her superhuman operating speed; it makes it make so much more sense that anyone would put up with her bullshit). Now I'm thinking these games just ain't as good.
And it doesn't really end there. I recently tried to play Eternal Sonata, a game which I regretfully purchased at launch in November 2008 but didn't get around to until January 2011. Four hours told me all I needed to know about that experience, particularly that it was going to be woefully repetitive, with a cast of stock JRPG characters: the Magical Girl, the Wiser Older Man, the Brash Young Hero, the Goofy Genius Child. But I can't help but think if I'd played Eternal Sonata right when I bought it, apart from actually getting my sixty dollars' worth, I would have really enjoyed it.
Then there's God of War, a game I absolutely despised in 2005 for its brevity, weak dialogue, and poor characterization, but upon replaying it in late 2009, it stunned me with its haunting take on Greek mythology and its very focused portrayal of Kratos as an individual so far gone down the path of violent abandon he can hardly be called a man anymore.
And there's Grand Theft Auto, a series I couldn't be arsed to consider playing five years ago. Now, its fourth numbered entry is a landmark in video game design.
All of these one-eighties are not merely the product of me playing better games with greater frequency in the latter half of the last decade. If that were true, then I wouldn't have liked Trauma Center in the first place, because I can point to at least a dozen better games right from where I'm sitting that preceded Trauma Center in release. Those games should have told me not to like Trauma Center, those bastards, but they didn't, so I can only conclude that, at the time, Trauma Center did genuinely have a place among their ranks. And while I have changed a lot in the last five years, I don't think those changes really had much to do with video games.
Ultimately, I have to look at the state of video games today, and that state is Heavy Rain. That state is Red Dead Redemption. Hell, as much as I hate to admit it, that state is Mass Effect 2. These games define the medium today and are shaping the medium for tomorrow, and none of them have their roots in Japanese cliches or in completely sequestering story from gameplay. They have their roots in games with fresh, focused narratives; with living, breathing open worlds; and with systems of meaningful player input. It's hard to go back and play a game with a cheap story that may as well come on a separate DVD for all it has to do with the gameplay and still think it's among the best and brightest video games have to offer when we know that video games have left that structure in their dust.
It's going to be even more fun writing this article again in five years, when the next video game paradigm shift occurs, and playing and liking Red Dead Redemption seems like a fool's errand. Haha... hahaha... haaaa... like that will ever happen...
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Adventures of Clip and Art #8
Peeping Art
I've been wanting to try a more minimalist, background-less strip for a while now. I'm not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, it looks like I'm spatially retarded, but on the other hand, I ended up with something vaguely Wondermark-y in visual design. I also don't like that this strip has a grand total of two words, two of which are not actually words. It was a fun experiment, but I probably won't do something like this again for a while.
Also, I don't really know what the inside of a gym looks like.
Also, I don't really know what the inside of a gym looks like.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Adventures of Clip and Art #7
Gregsbook
I'm back. I regret having taken such a long break, but that's what happens when you work retail during the holidays and live at least 1000 miles from friends and family you haven't seen in months.
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