Just Ramblin'

Due to StarCraft’s robust map editor, decade-long popularity in the professional circuit, and a lack of competition in the RTS space, the original StarCraft custom map community was surprisingly active. When WarCraft 3 was released, the trend continued, even spawning an entirely new genre with the custom map Defense of the Ancients.

But what makes this branch of mod development unique isn’t just its popularity, but also its focus on gameplay. Almost every StarCraft and WarCraft custom map uses only in-game assets. Many StarCraft 2 custom maps even use the core game mechanics for things like combat or resource management, while wildly varying in other areas. There's nearly infinite experimentation and exploration of the game’s possibilities, while staying firmly grounded in the original game’s setting and characters.

In other words, it’s fan fiction.

“Just as the human memory is not a passive recorder but a tool in the construction of the self, so history has never been a simple record of the past, but a means of shaping peoples.” - Arthur C. Clarke

Golden-age science fiction was always about history. The long, sweeping arcs of the human race played out over centuries. But instead of the past, the titans of the golden age wrote about the history of the future. Mankind's path through the centuries and the cosmos, their paths intertwined towards some bright and shining future.

Of all the things we accept as mundane, video games are perhaps the most like science fiction. So why hasn’t science fiction been explored better in the video gaming space? Sure, we have tons of science fantasy such as Star Wars, and I’m sure we’ll see much more of that once the prequels finally arrive. But what about science fiction? What about following mankind's destiny towards the stars? Heroes building a better world through science and reason? The history of the human race that’s yet to come?

After learning both Sid Meier and Brian Reynolds re-joined forces at Firaxis for Alpha Centauri, I pulled every string I could in order to get a preview copy. While I expected a new take on Civilization, I got way more than that. Civilization explores the possibilities of history. Alpha Centauri explores the potential of mankind's future history. But it’s not just about mankind's future, it’s your personal future history. Each game lets mankind follow a different path among the stars. It’s full of possibility.

In 256 B.C. the two superpowers of the ancient world went to war. Rome, a rapidly growing agrarian society, needed to secure the Mediterranean coast of Italy against invasion. Which meant Rome needed control of Sicily, because it was just off their southern coast. As a society of farmers, they needed their borders safe to protect their land.

Carthage, a mercantile society, saw Rome encroaching on the Mediterranean Sea and saw a threat to their shipping lanes. Sicily was the main shipping route between Carthage and Italy. They needed control of the Mediterranean in order to continue their dominance as the premier merchants of the ancient world.

Each vision of the future was mutually exclusive. They couldn’t both dominate the Mediterranean, yet neither could afford to lose it. The ancient world was falling away and only the winner would have the power to shape the new era.

The ancient beige-box world of computing is falling away while the new era is busy asserting itself in a dozen different form factors and price points. Google and Apple are two companies currently betting everything on mobile computing, each with very different ideas about how to make money.

Where computing goes, gaming follows. How the average person uses a computer will change drastically in the next decade. How the average person games will change even more.

This is not just another console war.

“Sparks flew.” Have you ever heard that expression? It's used to describe a great fight, or a fun date. Farrah, from the Xbox game Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, was a little of both. She was fairly useless, constantly feuding with me and taunting my lack of progress. Though the puzzles were tough, they were fair. I eventually won and Farrah came around. I felt just the right amount of friction between the thrill of success and the threat of failure, flint and steel. The game was truly something special - sparks flew.

There were no sparks between me and the new Prince of Persia. The game just lacked that certain something. The new love interest, Elika was pretty, helpful and always there for the Prince. Whenever you're about to die she's always there with a helping hand. She was way more useful than Farrah ever thought about being. Yet I can't help but bristle at her antics. The game never really came together for me in any meaningful way. The game missed that special friction. There were no sparks – instead, Elika just grated.

I am addicted to the apocalypse. I love it. Nothing makes my heart skip a beat like the notion of apocalyptic horror. Pre-apocalypse stories involve a ragtag group of unlikely heroes that are bound together by the secret, cryptic signs that the world is about to end. They always try to save the world with their newfound realizations. No one believes them, of course. How could the world possibly end? It's lasted this long, right? Then BAM, the bombs drop, or the plague hits, and only our heroes are safe. The future of humanity now rests solely with them.

Post-apocalypse stories are similarly driven by some singular knowledge. The Wasteland or zombie hordes are held back by the last bastions of civilization. Their secret knowledge of what came before, modern technology, science, and history make them all-powerful in a powerless world. The post-apocalyptic world knows nothing of the world that was, that perfect utopia. They know a poisonous, hostile world. Only the hero truly knows the breath of human knowledge. Can he use it to save them all?

In short, the apocalypse takes anyone with the right knowledge and makes them the most important person in the history of mankind. I can't get enough.

Warning: Fallout 3 spoilers at the end of the article

Creation is a powerful act. Though far less fun than its flip side, destruction, creation has an amazing effect on people. The first time my little bug eyed fly-kangaroo hybrid crawled out of the digital primordial ooze, I was near giddy with excitement. The possibilities Spore affords the armchair god are near limitless. The creations that stream in from my GWJ buddy list have consistently blown me away. The creators of Spore have developed the closest thing to My Little Gene-Splicer that can be safely allowed in the continental U.S.

The ease of use allows plenty of thoughtless creations as well. Plenty of animals don't make it past the Tribal stage because they weren't well thought out before hand. Fortunately in Spore it's pretty easy to get a do-over. You don't have to bear the responsibility for these flawed creations, you can just click the trash can next to their cuddly face and start over.

If only thoughtless business decisions were so easy to erase.

What makes video games different from all the art that has come before it? Paintings make better visual art and books can tell a story very well. Theater can act the story out with breathtaking clarity. A live music performance can be better than even the best game soundtrack, and movies beautifully combine all of these elements into one package. So what do video games do differently? It's simple, games are interactive. Video games can tell a story, but they tell your story.

So why is it that the only art on the planet that can interact with you increasingly decides not to?

Dear Xbox Live,

I know I haven't seen you in a while, and I wanted to explain. It's not you, really. I've just been off doing my own thing, with the zombies in the mall and all that. Really, it was Dead Rising all the way with me. I wasn't off hanging around her again, I just wanted you to know. I know the PC has always had her hooks in me, but I wasn't cheating on you. I've just been going through a rough bit, and I've been into my own single player thing for a while. But I wanted you to know, you and me and some Gears of War? Baby, I love you.

It's a typical late night session at the computer.  I'm rounding up my game before I hit the sack.  A startling noise comes from the hallway.  Should I check it out?  Nah, it was nothing.  I'll just keep staring at my monitor.  It certainly wasn't anything out of the ordinary.  I mean, who else would be in the house to make noise?  The dog is sleeping at my feet, I'm in here, who else could it be?  Certainly if there was someone else in the house, my dog would notice.  Then again, the intruder could be almost silent.  Maybe it doesn't have footsteps?  Maybe it doesn't have feet?  If I turn around, will I see some horrible creation float into view?  Or maybe it drags itself along the ground, waiting for me to look down before it shambles up my leg in order to devour my still beating heart!

This is why I can't play horror games.

Lego Star Wars II has been a recent favorite of mine. I adored the first game, the gameplay was that perfect balance between simple and fun while the cutscenes took the Star Wars Prequels and distilled them to their purest essence, a bunch of plastic men shaking their fists and making angry noises. Plus, no dialogue, which puts it leagues above the real Prequels. The second Lego Star Wars focuses on the Original Trilogy and while the gameplay has some new welcome additions, I'm still addicted to the cutscenes. Unlike the Prequels I actually enjoyed the original Star Wars movies, yet the Lego versions are still just as much fun. As I was playing, I caught myself wishing I could see the entire Star Wars movie redone with Legos. That's when I realized, I just saw it. I just sat through the entire Star Wars movie redone with Legos. Wait a minute, a movie? Wasn't I playing a game? What just happened? I felt like I had been tricked. Then I knew I had been tricked.

Cutscenes, we meet again.

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