Backlog Tweetbook Q&A: Why do you love Borderlands?

Controversial admission: I don't like Borderlands. Don't get me wrong, I've tried; and this response to the latest "Bitmob Wants You" callout marks my fourth attempt at taming Gearbox Software's RPG/FPS hybrid.

After investing a few more hours, I still found myself unmoved. Hoping to gain some insight as to why it has been so popular and how I could come to love it myself, I decided to take to Facebook and Twitter to ask friends, family, colleagues and associates the following question: 

Do you love/like/hate Borderlands? Please tell me why!

Via Twitter:

@TheL4stQuestion: Best played with friends. Solo, it's a bit meh. Good to just zone out and grind, but becomes another beast with co-op.

@GarciaINCIDENT: It was good for a bit and then got repetitive and grindy to me. Nice ideas though. Kinda fun with other people at least.

@RaygunBrown: I loved the art style & guns. Hated that quest givers were basically cardboard cut outs. Story/world felt lifeless.

@shiggyninty: Becomes better when its Broderlands. But I loved it. Art was different and loved the guns.

@neinhandle: Art, guns and loot.

@JoelGreenius: Borderlands is amazing when playing co-op with some mates! You'll like it soon enough :P

Via Facebook:

Alex Connolly: I like Borderlands. Actually, I quite like Borderlands...just needed a little more NPC action and non-enemy life out in the wilderness.

Reuben Damen: I like because its the best RPG fps, many hours playing LAN co-op, very awesome game.

Blake Thompson: I liked it, was a fun FPS to play more than anything. I can't stand most of the CoD/BF/CS games in comparison.

Matt Pfingst: Love. Awesome 2 player, graphics are brown, the end.

Lincoln Damen: Hate. Complete lack of plot/story, crappy controls and soulless environment and repetitive missions. Liked the robot. 

Jason Stubbs: Like. It just feels kind of pointless after a while though. Very cold. But the gameplay makes up for it. It could be likened to a one night stand.

Sam Phillips: Loved it. The mix of cell shaded graphics and hyper violence had me hooked. The dialogue was funny enough to make up for any lack of solid well defined story line. Like Reuben said, we spent alot of time shooting skags in their mouth flaps and being freaked out by the maniacal panting of those little midgets.

So for those in the love/like camp, a very strong theme was apparent: I should be playing with friends or, if that wasn't possible, with others at the very least. This observation troubled me somewhat, as I've always played Borderlands in public lobbies and very often with company in tow. Granted, very rarely was I playing with friends, but most always I had a few randoms along for the ride. Art direction was another much-applauded aspect of the 2009 release, and I'd agree that the cel-shaded look suits an apocalyptic wasteland quite well. Finally, the lovers and likers seem to have great affection for the copious amounts of loot (specifically: guns) on offer to players throughout their respective adventures.

The haters and the indifferent have all brought up the same issues that ultimately ended my last three attempted playthroughs: it's repetitive, it's (invented word time) grindy and the game's story elements felt lifeless. If you can't find good company for your journeys through Pandora, you're left with an inhospitable wasteland with few redeeming features. 

Equipped with knowledge of what to look for and what to avoid, I returned to Pandora with a renewed sense of purpose. I played from an open lobby for seven hours and saw of lot of what people liked. I saw, collected and sold an impressive cache of guns and equipment.  I found an explosive pistol that helped me rack up many a satisfying kill. I played with a diverse range of characters: some who helped with my quests, some wandered off and acted without rhyme or reason, none were known to me personally. I meandered throughout the great expanse of Pandora and let time pass me by on what was -- outside of the world rendered on my laptop -- a miserable, rainy day. It wasn't entirely unenjoyable. 

I was still able to see those flaws, however. They were still obvious to the point where I can say, with confidence, that I'll never be able to love it like a great many of my friends and fellow Bitmobbers. The quest radar is just plain useless: I lost about forty minutes searching for an item that the game was telling me was really close by. I battled scores (and scores and scores and....) of skags. I "interacted" with no more than three NPCs, all through the use of menus and with a bare minimum of spoken dialogue. 

I'll admit that even now, Borderland's visuals hold up really well. The unusual style isn't processor-intensive (I'm playing on PC nowadays), and it looks just as clean as more recent FPS releases. I'll probably even buy the sequel at launch and try once again to fall in love. 

 A quick thank you to all that responded, and here's some follow-ups for you readers: 

• Do you love/like/hate Borderlands? Tell us why? 
• What about Borderlands did you love the most? 
• Did you buy any/all of the DLC packages? 
• Are you picking up Borderlands 2 in September?

Couch your feelings

Tonight will be the last night that I spend on this couch. The "leather" has started peeling, there's hair from creatures of various species tucked between each cushion, and the armrests have started to cave in. I've never liked this couch, but my word have I had some memories on it. Some I won't share because, quite frankly, I don't know who's reading this; and others I'll gladly share... because I don't know who's reading this. 

 I love you.... but I hate you!

Carly and I acquired this uncomfortable, though visually-inoffensive chair when we first moved in together in 2008. It supported me - literally - while I played games on my terminal Xbox 360 and eventually on my PlayStation 3 and healthy, more recently-acquired Xbox 360. I dragged it close to the entertainment unit when I had a mere nineteen inches of viewing space. I pushed it back when I upgraded to a larger display. I punched it when I lost hundreds of bouts of Street Fighter IV online, and during the hair-tearingly frustrating final mission of Grand Theft Auto IV. I curled up on it as I wept through the last boss fight in Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker.

Almost everything I've written for consumption via my blog or Bitmob, was written on this couch. Every job application, every trolling comment, every counter-trolling comment, (almost) every email was written on this couch. The insincere back support made me write faster at times... if not, I'd have to lean forward to give my spine sweet, though ineffective respite. I've written enough words to form a dissertation or two on this couch, I guess I owe it some form of farewell.

 You did the best you could, leathery soldier.

Tomorrow its replacement will arrive: a stylish, modular suite with a reclining chair and infinitely-better back support. I will more than likely continue to write on this new piece of furniture and rest-assured I'll game from it as well... but it won't be the same. I won't have to battle back pain and discomfort while I climb or rapidly descend half a decade's worth of leaderboards. I'll be more comfortable then ever before, but will I be as determined? Probably. Shit, without having to shift every twenty minutes I may become a paid writer just yet!

Despite my unkind words, I would like to thank you, uncomfortable brown couch for all the time we've shared together. May we never meet again.

Tell us about your gaming furniture. Are you comfortable with you current setup?

It's my life: A nihilist reading of Saints Row: The Third

 Note: This post is a response to the Bitmob Writing Challenge - January 2012. This post also contains spoilers for Saints Row: The Third.

That is the most extreme form of nihilism: nothingness (the "meaningless") eternally!

          Friedrich Nietzsche

Don't let the wealth of colour, vulgarity and fun fool you: Saints Row: The Third is a playground for nihilists. Each gang, law enforcement agency, politician, and paramilitary organisation eventually comes to disregard the laws and institutions of the city of Steelport. The individual player even comes to reject established standards of previous open world action games given enough time with the game itself, and its elaborate arsenal of vehicles, weapons and abilities.

While the killing of civilians in Steelport is technically illegal (read: will illicit a response from police in close proximity), through activities like Mayhem, Tank Mayhem and Trailblazing, violence against public and private property, the police and the city's inhabitants is incentivized. It can be argued that there is a greater reward for shooting inanimate objects instead of people, however, killing civilians is not effectively penalized. I was able to reach target amounts in all but one of these instances by attacking innocent people, gang members and the law; it wasn't until the last instance of Mayhem that I found that destroying fences and barriers was the most effective way of completing that particular activity. Saints Row: The Third's missions are designed in a way that allows players to disregard human life.

I'd say "I'm sorry", but it wouldn't mean shit

The Wavves - "Idiot" from the WDDT CPDG Adult Swim radio station

Where most other games are designed to punish players who harm civilians or friendlies - through either mission failure, or the use of increasingly-belligerent police as per the Grand Theft Auto series - Saints Row: The Third either completely ignores the player's transgression, or offers them ways to cancel the interest of gangs and/or the police that require little effort. Firstly, players can evade all pursuers by entering any stores that they own. Considering how little this valuable real estate costs, and how densely-populated Steelport is by these retail spaces, shaking your would-be captors and assassins is so easy as to defy the consequence of any misdeeds entirely. You can also call "homies" - that the player acquires throughout the adventure - that can either revoke your "wanted" status or allow for law enforcement personnel to intervene in most conflicts on your behalf. Players can also purchase the ability to wipe notoriety with any of the game's three gangs. All misdemeanours performed by the player can be rendered meaningless with a minimum of fuss.

Nihilism has no substance. There is no such thing as nothingness, and zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing. Man lives more by affirmation than by bread.

Victor Hugo

At the close of the campaign - at least with the choices that I had made - the Saints became immortalized in film, and had been deemed heroes for defusing an explosive situation. Everything that my created avatar had done was for money, fame and power. Not for the greater good of Steelport, not to achieve any form of vigilante justice, just for me (and perhaps Burt Reynolds). I brought death and destruction to Steelport so that it may be covered in my gang's trademark violet hue. Every mission, side mission, collectable, customized vehicle, and weapon was attained so that the Third Street Saints could impose themselves upon another city; to affirm ourselves so that we could have domain over something and everything (well not quite, I'm at 91% completion).

It's my life, don't you forget. It's my life, it never ends.

Talk Talk - "It's My Life" from the 107.77 The Mix radio station

Despite a conclusion that somewhat redeems the player created lead and the Saints, life after the main saga is meaningless. You could complete the leftover side missions and find those last collectables, but after that, all there is to do is kill. Kill so that you can impose yourself on the people of Steelport once again. To be chased, to evade or to die... and rise again. The various upgrades players can buy only serve to make the final hours all the more pointless: with upgrades to your damage resistance, you can make a close range rocket as painless as a short fall. Saints Row: The Third allows you to do everything and achieve nothing at the same time. It is a nihilistic sandbox in which you must assert yourself, as nothing else matters.

How Gears of War saved my life

Note: This post is in response to the Bitmob Writing Challenge - December 2011. The topic I was given by my Secret Santa reads: What game this generation have you sunk the most time in? 

2007 was a difficult year for me. With my longtime girlfriend moving to another city, a dead-end job, and my final year of university study still in hand, I was lost in the throes of alcoholism.

It may sound far-fetched, but a game helped me renew my focus and get out of that final year rut. I've played that game more than any other on this generation of hardware. That game is Gears of War.

Gears of War saw release at the end of 2006, but I didn't really get absorbed in the competitive multiplayer suite until the following year. I played through the campaign by myself and with the help of my brother, but didn't have the confidence to venture online. A lack of disposable income (eaten up by the drink and public transportation costs) soon meant that I had to squeeze the most out of every game, so ready or not, I took my fight to the world.

My first memories of the competitive space were not pleasant ones. Verbal tirades from my teammates, low scores, and abusive direct messages were my only rewards for showing some courage. I also lost my head a lot, as my opponents were often skilled with the Longshot: the game's fearsome iteration of the the sniper rifle. Whenever I saw the icon in the bottom corner of my screen that indicated that an enemy had that gun, I hid away from  its harmful payload. Still, I couldn't manage my anxiety when I was one of the few left alive, so I often emerged from my false sanctuaries to have my head taken away from me. I was a jittery mess at the best and worst of times. 

To calm my nerves, I played through the campaign again. I began to identify with the sullen, though foul-mouthed members of Delta Squad. I started exercising, and even bulked up a bit... not to Marcus Fenix proportions, mind you; but big enough to gain a little bit of confidence. Defeating General RAAM for the third time gave me the strength I needed to return to the online melee.

My regimen began to take shape: mornings consisted of study and exercise, evenings had me at work and then online upon my return. I hardly slept, but I wasn't drinking half as much as I used to. My experiences on the battlefield didn't detract from my grades either. My Grade Point Average benefitted significantly from my battle against the Locust Horde.

With the realisation that in six months I'd have two degrees under my belt, my focus became even sharper. I dropped drinking during the week, and when I had the weekend with my girlfriend, I even managed to avoid it on some weekends as well. Sometimes Carly came to visit me, and fell asleep at my side as I blasted my way up the leaderboards. She knew what it meant to me, and I never heard her complain that I spent too much time playing. That being said, I may have overdone it a little.

Those weapon-specific achievements that at first seemed unattainable started popping up during matches. I even managed to net one hundred kills with the Longshot.  Me! The guy who for the better part of the year, had no head to speak of! 2007 was starting to come around.

That's more like it!

Saving all that money from not drinking also helped me experience other great releases like Halo 3, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, and The Orange Box. I still returned to Gears at night, however. It was my alcohol patch: it concentrated all of that negative energy and sent if flying from the barrel of my lancer.

I survived shift after shift of corrosive chemicals, apathetic customers, and worries of love and study, only to return to the fray. My wonderfully-rendered, violent sanctuary would call to me as I cleaned ovens and meat slicers. I could now see the light at the end of the tunnel, and knew that my days working in my oppressively-dull job were numbered; thanks in part to Gears.

In the last months of 2007, I finished study (once again with grades far higher than I was used to), and quit my job at the supermarket. I made plans to move in with my sweetheart. My life finally started to "happen". I still played Gears.

I may be underselling the contribution of my then-girlfriend-now-wife, but Gears of War saved me from the brink of alcohol-fueled despair. I've now been married to Carly for just over a year, and I've thoroughly enjoyed every installment of the Gears saga.

Has a game helped you out of a rut before? What game from this generation have you played more than any other? Merry Christmas, by the way!

Meet the Mob: Tristan Damen (Part 2 – Hardware)

So, where was I? Right, current generation hardware. Beautiful stuff, isn’t it? 

 

I picked up an Xbox 360 just as I was heading into my last year of university studies. Being loyal to the PlayStation brand, this was not an easy decision; but the ridiculous price set for Sony's latest machine (just under a thousand bucks in Australia) and inevitable delays forced my hand. All things considered, I’m glad I ventured into brand neutrality: for the 360 was and is a fantastic console. From the Xbox Live Marketplace to exclusive software, Microsoft’s second foray into the market has provided heartbreak and fun in equal measure. 

 

“Heartbreak,” I hear you say. “How so?” Between my brother and I, we’ve seen four 360s fall at the hands of the Red Ring of Death (RRoD). For a family who’d never had a console fail, these deaths rocked us to our very core. Still, the best gaming experiences of this generation can arguably be found on this platform; build quality be damned. 

 

Dead Rising was the first game to demonstrate the power and necessity of this new breed of machines. Hundreds of zombies on screen, all sporting a level of detail that was simply not achievable on your PlayStation 2s, Xboxes and Gamecubes. This “arrival” so to speak, was further highlighted by BioShock, which would have to be my favourite single player experience without question. Rapture, Ryan and the moral quandaries that they presented continue to be the point from which all other videogame narratives should be judged. 

 The Big Daddy of all powerful first-person narratives.

 

The Xbox 360 is also home to my favourite competitive multiplayer experience as well: Gears of War. I wasn’t well liked in most matches that I joined: I stole kills, I relied heavily on the chainsaw bayonet, I was Achievement-focussed (so I hogged weapon pick-ups) and I freaked out – as in rolling around, desperately avoiding an enemy that probably couldn’t see me anyway - whenever the opposing side acquired the Longshot. So to summarize, I was not a team player and my actions were never backed up by anything reminiscent of skill. Still, it’s by far the most fun I’ve ever had playing with or against others, and I would also argue that I invested more time in playing Gears online than any other game released before or after the fact. 

 This is what I was trying so desperately to avoid!

 

Right after my first 360 suffered from the dreaded RRoD, I switched to the PlayStation 3. Metal Gear Solid 4 and Grand Theft Auto IV were my first memorable experiences with Sony’s current generation hardware, with each proving to be the best instalments of their respective franchises. I’ve heard plenty of arguments for Niko being a flawed character, but that’s exactly the point. Listen to his chat with Illyena Faustin: the man has seen the worst humanity has to offer, and after travelling to America to live a life of supposed luxury with his cousin, he finds himself in just as much trouble as he had back home...all within a matter of days. He didn’t want to slay that SWAT team with Johnny Klebitz, but to avoid time in the slammer, he did it anyway. When people are backed into a corner, they do desperate, regrettable shit. End of story. Besides, Niko be damned: Liberty City is the real star of the show!

 

Only recently have I tried to start gaming on the PC. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always had one in the house, but rarely with enough power to play new releases. Sometimes I’m blown away by how smooth the experience is when compared to consoles: both Deus Ex: Human Revolution and Warhammer 40K: Space Marine held up remarkably well on my new laptop. My new "rig," however, fails to run others - like Witcher 2 and, more recently Driver: San Francisco – to a satisfactory standard.

 

Still, as someone prone to wax nostalgic, I’m happy to admit that the standard of gaming experiences on current platforms is better than those found on previous hardware iterations. Even if you disagree, you could likely download your favourite “classics” to your platform of choice or find them included in a compilation disc.

I could go on about my favourite games from the last few years, but I need to address something that finds itself into many of my posts: the Australian effect. Things are different on this side of the pond, and whether it be price, censorship or the release schedule, it’ll often be cause for me to pause for thought, scream or put rant to paper (or blog as it were). 

 

Australians are often subject to ridiculous price points at bricks-and-mortar retail stores. The retail price of videogames is set at $99.95 for most PC releases and as much as $119.95 for console games. That’s standard editions too, folks. If you want to talk Collector’s Editions we can tread into some ridiculous territory; upwards of $200. Grey importation is the order of the day for a lot of Australians, with Australia Post reporting that a whopping 70% of packages processed were from online retailers (via Kotaku AU). Downloadable games and content is, however, still subject to some pretty bogus pricing arrangements. To buy Modern Warfare 3 from Steam in Australia will set you back $99.95, and the prices seen on the Playstation Network and XBLM’s Games on Demand service are at times reason for me to vomit in horror. So THQ, you want me to pay $99 for a digital copy of Space Marine via the PSN for which the publisher didn’t have to foot any logistical costs (such as packaging, freight etc)? No thanks, and up yours for asking!

 

The Office of Film and Literature Classification (OFLC) and the Australian games classification system is also cause for much agony and eye-rolling. Despite what you may have read, we don’t actually have an R18+ rating for games yet. It was agreed to in principle by the Standing Committee of Attorneys General, but the new rating is yet to be implemented (once again, via Kotaku AU). For more on the OFLC’s gaffes and inconsistent decision-making, check out these posts:

• The Skin-Deep Doctrine
• Barely Legal: Australia, Games and Moral Panic
• How did Dead Island defy the Australian Classification Ban Hammer

 No, you're right: this looks like a hug compared to Left 4 Dead 2

Apart from grand larceny and a nonsensical ratings system, Australia’s actually a pretty great place to live and game. It is pretty hot here though - particularly on the Gold Coast – so Swamp Ass is a real danger, especially in summer. 

 

Are there any other Australian Bitmobbers out there? I know there are some Kiwis amongst us, which is good to see. 

  
Dutch Note: There will be a third part to this series, however, you may have already seen it; so I won't publish it here again. It's an edited version of Sounds Like a Memory.

Meet the Mob: Tristan Damen (Part 1 – Ancient History)

Dutch Note: I'm writing a two-part biography piece for my Bitmob portfolio and I thought I may as well share it with y'all as well. Some of this information I've shared previously; as in when I first started the blog. Hope you like it!

Nerdiness runs in my blood: my father was a gamer before me. Famously, he had bested a friend’s long-standing high score in Frogger one night on his Atari 2600, only for my older brother – then an infant – to crawl past and unwittingly turn the console off. Heartbroken and exhausted, my father did what anyone would do after losing sight of an all-important goal: sit outside and polish off a case of beer (or your beverage of choice; in Dad’s case it was beer). My dad eschewed his gamer ways in order to provide food, clothes and video-games to a growing family: something for which I’m eternally grateful.

Enough about my dad though; this post is supposed to be about me!

My brothers and I were happy enough with the Atari until our mother brought home a Sega Mega Drive (Genesis), two controllers, an arcade stick and six games which she had borrowed from a friend. The next six weeks were indulgent beyond belief, and six-year-old me knew to do only two things when it came time to return this wunder-console to its owner:

1.    Cry like a baby

2.    Beg for a Mega Drive of our own

We would one day receive that Mega Drive we so dearly desired, but not before we had experience with some of Sega’s other machines; specifically, the Master System and Game Gear. My brothers and I were most definitely Sega fanboys throughout our childhood. We were at times distracted by PC offerings such as Relentless: Twinsen’s Adventure, Crusader: No Remorse, Fallout and many a Wing Commander game; but we much preferred a controller to a keyboard and mouse.

 Best Action RPG ever.....EVER!

In my teens I found myself with a PlayStation and a somewhat more powerful PC. On the Sony console, I sunk any free time and money into RPGs, fighting and wrestling games; Street Fighter Alpha 3, the original WWF Smackdown and Vagrant Story being my favourites if I had to choose. On the PC I invested years into creating mods and skin packs for Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight (JK). 

While I was a massive Star Wars fan, I also had a deep love for a great many other pop culture icons; so being able to create and modify skins for use in JK’s multiplayer suite allowed me to express my love of all things nerdy. In LAN matches at the Damen house you could expect to see Hollywood Hulk Hogan using Force Destruction on Wolverine, who was in turn activating Force Healing (or was he using his Healing Factor?). There were some great user-created maps available for Jedi Knight. The best was definitely the Sarlaac Pit complete with skiffs and Jabba’s Palace in the distance.  Combine that with the Mandolorian Wars mode, which included grappling hooks, and you could keep me entertained for – what turned out to be – years.

 It's like I'm watching Empire!

After finishing high school, my brothers and I progressed to the PlayStation 2. I spent a lot of time playing various instalments of the Grand Theft Auto franchise, usually with System of a Down’s self-titled album as a soundtrack. When with friends, I would get involved in heated matches of Capcom Vs SNK 2: Mark of the Millennium. A friend’s mastery of Blanka had me stumped for months until I discovered that Terry Bogard’s “Crack Shot” had priority over most of the green man’s deviously-fast rolls. For those interested, my team usually comprised of Ryu (Ratio 2), Rugal (Ratio 1) and Terry Bogard (Ratio 1). I also owned a Gamecube, which had Super Monkey Ball or its disappointing sequel loaded in the disc tray for the majority of the time. Save for some Mario-themed sports games, Resident Evil 4 and Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes, pretty much all of the time spent with my favourite Nintendo console revolved around monkeys and the spherical prisons to which they were confined. 

 A tip of the cap and it's problem solved!

I’ve also invested a lot of money in portable gaming, with the aforementioned Game Gear, Game Boy Advance, PlayStation Portable, DS, and – more recently - the 3DS allowing me to game when I’m supposed to be engaged in social activities, studying or working. The Game Boy Advance SP easily ranks as my favourite, with a library of games punctuated with 1632-Bit classics. Fire Emblem, Pokemon Sapphire and Metroid Fusion each kept me from attaining those grades I was probably capable of at university.

Tune in for the next instalment of my Bitmography where I’ll discuss my experience with current generation hardware as well as the pitfalls of gaming in Australia.

Thanks for reading.

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Review (PC) - Design of the Decade

Until late last year, I'd never played any of the previous instalments of the Deus Ex series. I picked up both of Human Revolution's predecessors during one of Steam's delirium-inducing digital fire-sales after tiring from the numerous, pretentious rants that I'd read discussing the importance and influence of the original. Ten years after its release, however, proved to be too late for me to discover its magic. What I saw was ugly and unapproachable. I didn't even think to load up the sequel, Invisible War after that eyesore. Instead - shallow man that I am - I waited for the latest iteration, with enticing art direction and most importantly, rendered with all of the grandeur and beauty that I've come to expect from modern hardware. Read on to find if a prettier Deus Ex is more approachable or, at the very least, playable. 

The Good

Crack gaming - Deus Ex: Human Revolution is straight-up addictive. There's no sugar coating or sidestepping the fact: this game will cause you to lose sleep. Whether it was agonising over my next augmentation, wondering if I played that last conversation the right way, or getting lost in futuristic Heng Sha: I found it genuinely difficult to put my controller down and walk away. Even now after having completed the game, I still find myself going back to sneak up a storm.

Illuminating tale - Core to the game's addictive quality is its brilliant story that pushes to you question whether self-controlled evolution is the future of mankind or a propellant toward its demise. The central characters are all voiced expertly and some - like Pritchard - have an enjoyable chemistry with Jensen that evolves throughout the adventure. You can approach the story at your own pace and - in what I see as a master stroke - you're not obliged to experience it all. Not that I can see why one wouldn't want to comb through each of Detroit's dangerous streets and alleyways, but it's great that the game gives you the choice all the same. To give you an idea how deep the rabbit hole can really go, I highly recommend this piece from Rock, Paper, Shotgun. I found myself nodding enthusiastically in agreement.

Summon the funicular - Human Revolution's environments are dripping with cyberpunk intrigue. There may be a bit of recycling at play, but locations like The Hive and Picus Station are memorable and demand to be explored. I'm now halfway through my second playthrough and it's amazing how many new locations and conversations that I've found thanks to a different approach and a compulsion to collect everything. The various mechs, vehicles and augmented humans that you encounter are also impeccably rendered and designed. While not the most technically impressive release of the year, I challenge anyone to think of a game with more pleasing art direction. 

Who's your daddy? - Human Revolution's many influences are obvious, however, they are all treated with respect and in some cases, carried out better than in the source material. Conversations in this game aren't as frequent as they are in Mass Effect, but their outcomes are more ambiguous. The logs and literature don't contribute to the pervading sense of dread and calamity as effectively as those found in Bioshock, but they do give you a greater idea of the geopolitical landscape of the future Earth that Adam Jensen inhabits. The stealth mechanics are more fluid and forgiving than those from Metal Gear Solid 4, and discovery isn't tantamount to what the Penny Arcade team once described as sliding down a "shit-greased chute" for inept players. Human Revolution is a smoothie comprised of my favourite games.

Go your own way - I tried to go through the game without taking a life, but there was a time that I felt as though my hand was forced towards lethal weaponry. Not that I had to engage my foes, rather I decided that I couldn't walk away from this particular situation. After fifteen hours of using stun guns and my fists, I had to unleash the beast; or beasts as it were. Shotguns, revolvers, lasers, retractable blades: never has abandoning my principles been so much fun. The varied arsenal and tactics available to players affords a freedom that is almost paralyzing and there's more than enough to find and trial across multiple playthroughs.

Budgeting - I lost hours agonising over how to spend praxis points. Should I upgrade my strength to be able to punch through walls (in hindsight, yes!) or invest in my reflexes so that I can takedown two thugs at once? These choices are once again, a reason to lose sleep. A reason to keep you coming back and slaving away for more experience points. There were several times when I'd bought an upgrade only to then find an obstacle seconds later that could only be tackled with an augmentation that I'd opted to leave for the time being. This game taunted me on many an occasion, yet I still want more!

The Bad 

Corn bread - Last year, I commented that the voice-acting in Just Cause 2 was so heavily set on stereotypes that it was almost offensive. Human Revolution also features some regrettable voice direction with some African-American characters sounding like throwbacks to Gone with the Wind. Some Asian characters who speak in English are scripted with intentional syntax errors. I'm not saying that every Chinese hooker is going to speak English as though it was their first language, but at times it sounds forced and unnecessary.

Who's the boss? - As I've detailed in a previous post, the boss fights in Human Revolution felt alien when compared to the rest of the experience. They were often unforgiving and - worst of all - almost incompatible with players who choose espionage-flavoured augmentations (this Penny Arcade comic sums my experience up perfectly). One of these encounters can be made drastically shorter - to the point of farce - if you invest in the typhoon augmentation. The final two boss encounters actually bordered on enjoyable thanks to some of the choices I had made earlier in the game. It's a mixed bag for sure.

The Ugly

A litany of minor errors - As polished as the core action is, you'll come across a great many slight inconsistencies that can serve to lessen the sense of immersion you'll feel throughout the game. As per my lastpost, NPCs are sometimes completely unaware of some pretty big indiscretions that you'll carry out in plain view. There are also some big questions that certain play mechanics raise over sustained play:

• How come I need to rest for as long as twenty seconds before I can punch another enemy (or civilian)?
• Why would I upgrade my battery's recharge ability if it has no effect on depleted cells?
• If I'm so advanced, how come I can only sprint for the in-game equivalent of five metres?
• How come I can't fall a painfully-short distance without dying?

These are all petty in the grand scheme of things, but you'll easily get twenty hours plus out of this game, and such illusion-shattering queries are unavoidable (I'd strongly recommend you check out Bitmob's Mike Minotti's illustrated take on some of the game's flaws). For example, once I'd saved a game when I was sitting on top of an awning that was suspended about two metres above a tiny landscaped garden. Trying to engineer a non-lethal drop to said garden cost me more lives than all but one of the boss fights combined. I couldn't then reconcile the following ten minutes of goon smashing because if I couldn't survive falling from a one storey building, how could I cop a few bullets to the chest and still live to tell the tale? Sometimes, it's the small things that really detract from an experience.

The Verdict

There are scores of minor flaws and wrinkles that one would find in any given play through of Deus Ex: Human Revolution, but after thirty hours of well written - though not always well-delivered - dialogue, slick stealth gameplay and varied locations, I'm still hooked. This game has sunk its augmented claws into my skin and I can't escape. Better yet, I don't want to escape. I'm happy to have a crack at every achievement, every weapon, every air duct and anyone that looks at me sideways.

Neon Wasteland: How to Break an Honest Heart

First of all, an apology to the Bitmob staff - particularly Dan "Shoe" Hsu who awarded me with the download that is the subject of this post - for ignoring a lesson from my childhood: when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me. Last month, I disclosed that I had assumed that I had to finish the Fallout: New Vegas' main quest line in order to have a chance of surviving the downloadable expansion, Honest Hearts. Upon deciding the fate of New Vegas however, I learned that there's no going back. It probably would have made sense to consult a resource like the Fallout Wiki, however I piggishly insisted on slogging it out alone.

 This conversation never happened!

So without further ado, my first adventure to Zion National Park.

It started out pretty rough; mainly because I couldn't find the NPC to start the quest that takes you to Zion. It was placed pretty clearly on my map, but in the middle of the night, a darkened cave entrance isn't overly obvious. Which is just as well, because without stumbling to the north of the Mojave Wasteland, I wouldn't have come across a small squad of aliens with ridiculously effective weaponry.

Equipped with some other-worldly hardware, I wandered around the Mojave until sunrise. Then I could see the gaping hole that evaded me during night hours. I wandered in and came across a wary group of travellers. I was told I could join them after lightening my pack. After two hours searching for this introductory quest, I'd now have to wander back to the New Vegas Strip to drop most of my gear. Fast forward fifteen minutes and I was back where I needed to be and ready to go.

Now for the frustarting part.

After initiating the first quest and watching a modest slideshow, my companions came under fire from some indigenous folk. Knee deep in the blood of newly-acquired friends, I fought back, killing all of the White Legs people who opposed me. I looted my assailants' freshly-fallen bodies and proceeded across a rickety bridge. Again I came under fire, this time from a unique NPC named Follows-Chalk. Heart still pumping from the assualt I had just survived, I switched to my alien firearm and reduced my opponent to a blue, chalky substance. To my surprise, I received notification that I had failed a quest and that another had been added, "Chaos in Zion." Bemused, I carried on with weapon drawn.

 Wrong place, wrong time.

The environment in Honest Hearts was uncharacteristically captivating. Indigenous art decorated cliff faces. Instead of the dreary browns, greys and pale greens of the Mojave Wasteland, Honest Hearts is home to earthy, red tones and rustic camp ground structures. A complete and necessary change in palette.

Despite the inviting, new location, I still found myself subject to an unrelenting assault from all of the Zion National Park's inhabitants: regardless of tribe or species. No matter how many locations I came across, not a single living creature was happy to see me. Surely this new expansion was not solely a survival-based affair? I began to question whether there would be any conversations or friendlies to encounter in this beautiful hellhole. Still, my enemies were no match for my recently-acquired alien blaster. Even the giant yao guai and cazadors were helpless against this other-worldly hardware.

The killing continued. I slaughtered Daniel, Walking Cloud, the Sorrows, Dead Horses and anything else that moved, until I finally reached the quest marker at the north of the map in Zion Canyon. I collected a map and was then instructed to return to the Mojave to complete the quest - and unbeknownst to me - the Honest Hearts expansion.

I watched another slideshow that described the carnage I had brought to this intriguing location. I had unknowingly flunked the downloadable quest, but still: what were the developers thinking, with a quest that could so easily be shrugged off course with some careless fire? Under assault almost the second I arrived in Zion, I could only assume that Follows-Chalk was another savage enemy.

There's that word again: assume. I was so busy defending myself from the frenzied attack of the White Legs tribe that I assumed Follows-Chalk would do me harm and because of that, Honest Hearts was almost completely lost to me.

 This dude looks evil, but I guess I shouldn't assume

Quest Design 101: Do not place an all-important NPC in the midst of a deadly firefight. A battle where one stray bullet can cancel out hours of potential questing.

Can you recall any other examples of broken quest design?

Neon Wasteland: Returning to New Vegas

Thanks to the lovely people at Bitmob, I was afforded the latest expansion to Fallout: New Vegas on the condition that I write about my experience with the downloadable prize. While I can never pass up a free game (or an expansion as it were), I was somewhat hesitant to re-engage with Obsidian's buggy follow-up to what is one of the better role-playing games available on this generation of console hardware in Fallout 3.

You can read all of my initial impressions of New Vegas by clicking here, but to summarize for those bereft of spare time: the game featured underwhelming visuals and voice-acting, broken quest design as well as one of the most purposeless narratives in recent memory. There were also more than enough bugs to diffuse any attempt at an extended play session. It had been just over six months since I last played this mess; but with two new expansions and some major patches, I had hoped that this middling release would have been whipped into shape.

I'm afraid this was not the case.

The New Vegas Strip was just as ugly as I had remembered it to be. The inhabitants didn't fare much better either, with their marionette-like bodies brought clumsily to life with the press of a button. They would spout uninspired observations about the establishments they resided within, and rarely uttered more than a single phrase. The washed out brown and grey corridors of the various casinos, clubs and other establishments were also just as exhausting as they were when I had first wondered through them last year.

I wasn't here for the old though, I thought to myself. I'm here to experience the newest chapter in this(so far) disappointing adventure. But then I thought about it a little harder.

It was entirely likely that the characters and by extension, enemies that I would encounter in these recently-gifted environments would be of a higher level than those peppered across the standard questline; and they would therefore be able to brutalize my inexperienced character on a whim. Before I could play through the new, I would have to suffer the old; and suffer I did.

First I played through the painfully easy, yet undeniably broken quest "Bye Bye Love." On first attempt, I arranged to meet Joana and her fellow ladies of the night in the Gamorra club lobby. Upon some last minute preparations, we embarked upon our deadly journey. Being the gentleman that I am, I waited for the ladies to leave first and the proceeded to venture out on the Strip. Joana wasn't there, neither were her friends. I was then promptly advised that I had failed the quest because I allowed the ladies to venture off alone. A different approach was required: I ran out of the club as soon as I advised that we were right to go. Again I was met with failure. Upon five successive and unsuccessful attempts, I decided to load a save game I had created about ten minutes earlier, just as I had initiated the quest. Joana and her companions met me outside and we quickly proceeded to complete the quest.

War - and Fallout: New Vegas it seems - never changes. Just as broken as ever.

New Vegas is home to many different bug varieties 

All frustration aside, I'm now proceeding towards the end game. If all things go according to plan, I should be playing Honest Hearts by next week.