In the great trolley problem that is life, we are left with abysmal options.

Almost makes the idea of being powerless to enact change feel like a vacation from choice

It would seem I am in somewhat of a post game completion blues, which is much what it sounds like. Many books readers comment on very much the same feelings of melancholy that besiege them upon finishing a story and finally closing shut the book they’ve spent a chunk of time with. I’d say for me, it’s not necessarily linked to a particularly good or satisfying experience, as the last game I reached the end of was Super Meat Boy 3D, which had its moments, but ended up being less than by days end. I am partly to blame perhaps; my reverence for the first game may have led me to have unrealistic expectations for this entry, so in a way, my endearment to the name cost me greater enjoyment levels….at least, benefit of the doubt in all that; blame may fall in more than one place in a conversation betwixt an experience and the experiencer.

With all of that said, I have not rushed off to start a new game in some bloodthirsty rage of virtual conquest. As ever, I find taking a moment to let oneself process recent events before moving on a vital part in the consumption process. In any case, I already have so many random games continuously ongoing as is, I have more than enough to slake me until I do commence the next adventure. I think one thing I didn’t quite dive into (from a writing perspective) with Meat Boy, and perhaps I did not dive in due to the notion the game was already struggling to impress its self upon me, so why add insult to injury, was the importance of what a game has to “say”, so to speak, and whether or not that is even a fair metric with which to judge a property on in the first place.

I started my deconstructionism of Meat Boy on the ass end of Mixtape, and given my background, you’d think I would have dragged Mixtape and praised Meat Boy, but it was more of an inverse scenario, as I ended up being far kinder about Mixtape when everything was said and done, which is ironic, as one of my lamentations of that game was its core gameplay elements were barely existent in some sense, though it felt as if Mixtape had more to “say” then Meat Boy did when all was said and done. Certainly prompted more conversation throughout the industry, at the very least, so Mixtape’s “being” caused some “saying” on the matter, and thusly a far more fruitful dialogue than one Meat Boy left behind.

That kind of parsing of details, in all of its queer metaphysicality, is sure to have eyes rolling left and right, from the crowd whose go to line is “wHy DoNt yOu jUsT sAy wHeThEr oR nOt yOu lIkE tHe gAmE?” With all of the pomp and circumstance that comes with such breathless amounts of mouth breathing glory. The sentiment here ends up dealing with cultural capital, as it were, and how the idea becomes currency within the realm writ large. Once again, such a curious posit does not necessarily indicate that even with the achieved goal of becoming evaluated as “of interest” to a large conversation, necessarily indicates something wholly good, nor wholly bad, thus rekindling my citation of “grey area complexities” back from whence this all started.

I was just thinking to myself, in attempting to articulate this point, that maybe I am expecting too much from…err, people I suppose. I have an astonishingly low opinion of the “composite individual”, so why I think they’d be interested in any kind of exchange involving nuance and critical thought is well beyond my foolish proclivities at the moment. There is more cognitive gold to be mined from that plot of thought, so it is at the very least important to keep reminding myself of such a reality, though the idea with what a game “has to say” needs more time in the proverbial oven till it’s fully cooked.

In other news, I continue to play Donkey Kong: Bananza, as it still remains one of only two major games I’ve picked up for my Switch 2 since I got it at Xmas, though my progress through the title is positively glacial. I guess that speaks to its strength as an ideal on the go casual title, but most certainly says little about its ability to command one’s attention long term.

I’m aware I’m in the minority here, as I recall the game getting what I seem to recall as across the board praise when it first launched, even to the point of me thinking where Mario Kart: World failed to sell me on the system, DK: Bananza did not. However, the crowd going wild on this one may have been more of what I’ve referred to as “post launch blindness”, in that everyone was so lukewarm on MK with the Switch 2 launch, but still so hungry to enjoy their new shiny toy, even the slightest notion of something savory was going to be an elating experience to send one over the moon. DK: Bananza may have had the same team that developed Mario: Odyssey, but I’d say they used up their bag of tricks with that title, as none of the same engaging design hooks made it into DK’s DNA.

The title feels so aimless; the mechanics more akin to servicing the ADHD crowd of gameplay design methodology, where it’s constantly about just going ape shit while wildly pressing buttons really fast, just long enough to break through some terrain to see a new piece of shiny that distracts you; rinse and repeat. I guess with the number of highly distracted individuals we have in this day and age, they certainly have their demographic cut out for them, but it leaves much to be desired within any realm of where more compellingly indepth interactivity is concerned.

I’m also enjoying the first Blood Omen at the moment, which is quite the meaty experience from back in the day, though ironically, does not inspire me to write at length about it, so I will likely not commit much time to doing so on ATE. I’m also low key attempting to get all of the achievements in both Rare Replay and the Master Chief collection, which are more or less fools errands, as they both have a ridiculous amount of content, and I believe I’ve been working on these projects for more than a decade at this point, so it’s hard to say whether or not it’s just a sunk cost fallacy that is more or less driving me, impossibility be damned.

The fact I myself am between worlds may not be due to the fact that it feels as if there is a lot of white noise going on within the gaming industry, but it is certainly not helping matters any. My patience at the moment might be extraordinarily dwindled for a myriad of reasons, and I may just be kicking up a dust storm out of a sense of bored monotony I find myself lamentably trapped in. Finding meaning amid the sandstorm is of importance, though sitting with unfavorable emotions is a part of life, too.

They can’t all be winners.

-Pashford