chris
29 Reviews liked by chris
Final Fantasy XVI
2023
This game wishes it was as good as Stranger of Paradise
Gitaroo Man
2001
I don't get it.
Gitaroo Man is okay. Those are the strongest feelings I can muster towards it.
I'm left grasping at what people actually like so much about this for it to have the reputation that it does. I've heard a lot about the story, and the gameplay, and the music, and I'm wondering what it is here that connected with others and didn't with me. It's as if we've all played different games. What I've seen isn't worth much celebration, but that hasn't stopped the party from raging on without me involved. I'm lost. What is it about Gitaroo Man that I've missed?
The gameplay is finicky. Timing windows feel just a little out of sync no matter how much I fiddle with the delay. The Dualshock 2 analog stick was not designed for the precise movements that the game implies you're meant to be doing. Every whammy bar sequence where the line wobbles actually fails if you try to wobble along with it; you just keep holding the stick down through the middle of the the line, and the game automatically compensates and wiggles it for you. The Charge/Attack/Final sequences are an interesting touch, but all they are in effect is the ability to prematurely end a song if you play it well enough. It's still an engaging and difficult enough loop to justify playing through all ten stages, but it's not something that impressed me.
I feel as though any piece of Japanese media with a child character in it will immediately have a legion of fans who give it acclaim as "a story about growing up", even if that doesn't apply in the slightest. I don't mean to vaguepost about any reviewers here — Lord knows I probably am anyway, but I've very purposefully avoided reading anyone else's words on Backloggd about this — but everything I've seen elsewhere online is full of people who can't stop insisting that it's about maturity, or the joy of being a child, or whatever. I don't see it. A loser kid gets powers and goes on an adventure where he comes back a little cooler. You couldn't have a more basic Saturday morning framework if you tried, and this one is as simplistic and boring as a wall painted beige. Gitaroo Man gets unduly hailed as one of the most moving stories in video games solely for the reason that there are two good songs planted right at the end of it.
The soundtrack is...fine, mostly? The Legendary Theme fucking rocks, as does Resurrection, but there are some pulls on here that are just mediocre. Twisted Reality, Born to be Bone, and VOID are the especially goofy-sounding songs. Flyin' to Your Heart has the double dishonor of being the worst track here and being the longest by three entire minutes. If we're being honest, the last two songs in the game are good enough to justify the existence of the entire soundtrack, but they're pulling a lot of weight.
And that's it. There isn't anything left to talk about, and there isn't anything here that I've loved. I don't know. I get the distinct feeling of being stupid. Of missing out. But I really just don't see what everyone else sees in Gitaroo Man. I'm disappointed, but it's probably my own fault. Maybe I just had unrealistic expectations. Everyone else got a pleasant surprise, and I created an unattainable standard in the wake of its reception.
I wish I'd gotten the same experience as everyone who loved this.
Gitaroo Man is okay. Those are the strongest feelings I can muster towards it.
I'm left grasping at what people actually like so much about this for it to have the reputation that it does. I've heard a lot about the story, and the gameplay, and the music, and I'm wondering what it is here that connected with others and didn't with me. It's as if we've all played different games. What I've seen isn't worth much celebration, but that hasn't stopped the party from raging on without me involved. I'm lost. What is it about Gitaroo Man that I've missed?
The gameplay is finicky. Timing windows feel just a little out of sync no matter how much I fiddle with the delay. The Dualshock 2 analog stick was not designed for the precise movements that the game implies you're meant to be doing. Every whammy bar sequence where the line wobbles actually fails if you try to wobble along with it; you just keep holding the stick down through the middle of the the line, and the game automatically compensates and wiggles it for you. The Charge/Attack/Final sequences are an interesting touch, but all they are in effect is the ability to prematurely end a song if you play it well enough. It's still an engaging and difficult enough loop to justify playing through all ten stages, but it's not something that impressed me.
I feel as though any piece of Japanese media with a child character in it will immediately have a legion of fans who give it acclaim as "a story about growing up", even if that doesn't apply in the slightest. I don't mean to vaguepost about any reviewers here — Lord knows I probably am anyway, but I've very purposefully avoided reading anyone else's words on Backloggd about this — but everything I've seen elsewhere online is full of people who can't stop insisting that it's about maturity, or the joy of being a child, or whatever. I don't see it. A loser kid gets powers and goes on an adventure where he comes back a little cooler. You couldn't have a more basic Saturday morning framework if you tried, and this one is as simplistic and boring as a wall painted beige. Gitaroo Man gets unduly hailed as one of the most moving stories in video games solely for the reason that there are two good songs planted right at the end of it.
The soundtrack is...fine, mostly? The Legendary Theme fucking rocks, as does Resurrection, but there are some pulls on here that are just mediocre. Twisted Reality, Born to be Bone, and VOID are the especially goofy-sounding songs. Flyin' to Your Heart has the double dishonor of being the worst track here and being the longest by three entire minutes. If we're being honest, the last two songs in the game are good enough to justify the existence of the entire soundtrack, but they're pulling a lot of weight.
And that's it. There isn't anything left to talk about, and there isn't anything here that I've loved. I don't know. I get the distinct feeling of being stupid. Of missing out. But I really just don't see what everyone else sees in Gitaroo Man. I'm disappointed, but it's probably my own fault. Maybe I just had unrealistic expectations. Everyone else got a pleasant surprise, and I created an unattainable standard in the wake of its reception.
I wish I'd gotten the same experience as everyone who loved this.
Hi-Fi Rush
2023
I cannot break the gameplay in fun ways like a badly made sonic game or a very exploitable game; it doesnt give me the challenge of a 3D Ninja Gaiden for example, where level and enemy design are different puzzles of situations you have to solve with the tools at your disposal, just press the jump button to go to a platform, press the assist button to activate a platform, press the hook button to go somewhere, filler, classic 7th gen games filler; it doesnt have a freedom of gameplay ramifications like a Sunset Overdrive or InFamous where i choose what to upgrade, what missions i do or what weapons and scenery i use to tackle fights. and nor it has the slightless DMC or whatever depth in the combat system, no cancels, every attack has massive areas, enemy and playable character alike, also the beat system makes timmings much more simplistic and removes complex button presses.
I have died in this game mainly because i didnt have the patience to dodge hoping I would hit faster to be done with fights sooner.
For the non gameplay part: characters, storytelling and all that, while very well executed, i cannot see the sightless hint of originality, i have already seen this story, this protagonist, these different characters, every new personallty just tells me how proud they are to be cliche, and every potential plothole or whatever is solved by classic "haha this game is goofy remember?" almost 4th wall type of shit.
Nevertheless, im rooting for more game to come out like this, experiences that grab your money once and never ask you again, thank you
I have died in this game mainly because i didnt have the patience to dodge hoping I would hit faster to be done with fights sooner.
For the non gameplay part: characters, storytelling and all that, while very well executed, i cannot see the sightless hint of originality, i have already seen this story, this protagonist, these different characters, every new personallty just tells me how proud they are to be cliche, and every potential plothole or whatever is solved by classic "haha this game is goofy remember?" almost 4th wall type of shit.
Nevertheless, im rooting for more game to come out like this, experiences that grab your money once and never ask you again, thank you
Air
2001
My first playthrough of this legendary Key novel since about a decade ago, and I'm happy to say that AIR still remains a beautiful, memorable experience that I'm very happy to have spent a few weeks coming back to. If Kanon was the game in which Maeda et al found their ground after departing from Tactics, AIR is the game which ensured that Key would remain a titanic presence within the visual novel sphere for years to come.
Fittingly, I suppose the word that might best define AIR is "breezy". Despite many titles that it would go on to influence tearing deep into melodrama and bombastic moments - some incredible, some misguided - AIR is remarkably quiet and distant for the entirety of its run. The dreamy, faraway summer haze that permeates AIR allows each story, each moment, to blend borders of days and times to create a very amorphous, congenial tone. Although they ultimately play lesser roles in the story as a whole, the stories of Minagi and Kano are enjoyable to simply exist in - and though certainly not quite as memorable or composed as the main scenario, their routes certainly contribute to the game's larger thematic structure and pathos.
Ultimately, though, Jun Maeda and Yūichi Suzumoto are the star penmen here - and the conclusive triad of Misuzu's route, the Summer arc, and the Air arc are the core of this work's thesis. AIR, ultimately, is about tackling our preconceptions of "futility" and the impossible, about how we process our own individuality and the hedgehog's dilemma, and about the liquidous construct of family. Minagi's route in particular sets up the pins for Maeda to strike through with the minimalist profundity that would define Clannad only four years later, and Suzumoto offers a very essential parable of the extent of love, sacrifice, and perseverance in Summer that no doubt allowed him to create his later masterpiece, Planetarian. Shinji Orito's score is textbook Key mastery, as well - very stark instrumentation that packs a punch when it's necessary; dreamy, glittering, gentle, and bittersweet. Again, AIR is breezy, and I can't say that much actually happens during this intangible, distant summer - but it's the mere existence of its cast and their drive to simply "be" that creates the emotional and personal statements that will keep you thinking about it, even when it's gone.
A distant memory, something you can hold close and just barely recall finer details. You might not remember the faces. You might not recall which days held what adventures. You might not even remember what you chose to say to her while you had the chance. Despite all that, it's a story that stuck with me for a decade, stuck hard enough to call me back to go through its motions, laugh, cry, think, and feel the things I did as a teenager - like it was the first time, even though I'd been here before. The story remains the same, no matter how much you change. Remember that girl and her story, even when you've grown apart, no matter how many years it's been since you last opened the cover and read. She is waiting, like she always has, in the air.
Fittingly, I suppose the word that might best define AIR is "breezy". Despite many titles that it would go on to influence tearing deep into melodrama and bombastic moments - some incredible, some misguided - AIR is remarkably quiet and distant for the entirety of its run. The dreamy, faraway summer haze that permeates AIR allows each story, each moment, to blend borders of days and times to create a very amorphous, congenial tone. Although they ultimately play lesser roles in the story as a whole, the stories of Minagi and Kano are enjoyable to simply exist in - and though certainly not quite as memorable or composed as the main scenario, their routes certainly contribute to the game's larger thematic structure and pathos.
Ultimately, though, Jun Maeda and Yūichi Suzumoto are the star penmen here - and the conclusive triad of Misuzu's route, the Summer arc, and the Air arc are the core of this work's thesis. AIR, ultimately, is about tackling our preconceptions of "futility" and the impossible, about how we process our own individuality and the hedgehog's dilemma, and about the liquidous construct of family. Minagi's route in particular sets up the pins for Maeda to strike through with the minimalist profundity that would define Clannad only four years later, and Suzumoto offers a very essential parable of the extent of love, sacrifice, and perseverance in Summer that no doubt allowed him to create his later masterpiece, Planetarian. Shinji Orito's score is textbook Key mastery, as well - very stark instrumentation that packs a punch when it's necessary; dreamy, glittering, gentle, and bittersweet. Again, AIR is breezy, and I can't say that much actually happens during this intangible, distant summer - but it's the mere existence of its cast and their drive to simply "be" that creates the emotional and personal statements that will keep you thinking about it, even when it's gone.
A distant memory, something you can hold close and just barely recall finer details. You might not remember the faces. You might not recall which days held what adventures. You might not even remember what you chose to say to her while you had the chance. Despite all that, it's a story that stuck with me for a decade, stuck hard enough to call me back to go through its motions, laugh, cry, think, and feel the things I did as a teenager - like it was the first time, even though I'd been here before. The story remains the same, no matter how much you change. Remember that girl and her story, even when you've grown apart, no matter how many years it's been since you last opened the cover and read. She is waiting, like she always has, in the air.
Edit: Just wrapped up my second play-through of this game, and fuck, do I love it even more than the first time. Remains my favorite ARPG of all time. Literally just throw a mini-map on here and a mute option for Jed and it's a perfect game.
It's still pretty surreal, sitting down to write this piece, to be able to say it, but Stranger of Paradise is easily the most ballsy and unique entry the Final Fantasy series has seen since the XIII trilogy, and stands pretty easily as my favorite entry of the post-VIII games. It's like the ambitious, earnest, and thrill-seeking Final Fantasy never left us. After decades of what I feel has been a progression of back-stepping, reductive, and trepidatious entries, Stranger of Paradise bursts in, guns blazing and Limp Bizkit blasting, and demands your attention, your frustration, and your heart.
Through the entire experience, I felt like I'd been transported back to the days in which these types of experiences were the norm for major third parties like Square - parts of me even imagine this must've been what lesser titles like Dirge of Cerberus wanted to be. There is no irony to Stranger of Paradise; what you see is what you get, and it stakes its claim as a new step for action-RPGs loudly and pulls it off in stride. The gameplay is just ridiculously fun - swapping between classes, casting magic and going in for strings of melee combos is a blast to pull off in succession. The boss fights are almost all hype as fuck, with awesome delineations between phases to keep things fresh. Modern takes on Final Fantasy I classic bosses that feel fresh and new, while bringing back memories of my first runs through the original title, created memorable moment after moment. Speaking of, the dungeons are pretty breathtaking - and the choice to model each area lightly after a landmark from another Final Fantasy (Mount Gulg after VIII's Fire Cavern, Crystal Mirage after III's Crystal Tower) made this longtime fan stoked to see every new outing spring to life. A mini-map would've been nice for some of these areas, but it never got all too bad; no traditional dungeon crawling here.
Looting was never too overwhelming, save the few times my inventory filled when I really could've used boss drops, but to see Jack and the crew in whatever obnoxiously loud new outfits I obtained next was a joy after another - especially considered like 70% of the outfits in this game constantly clip through themselves. Oh, I love the jank in this game. It was always a laugh WITH the game, not quite at it, and playing the title as a couch hang-out with close friends only accentuated this.
Not to parrot the exact same sentiment as many others have about the plot, but I have to hand it to Stranger of Paradise for taking it from "tacky, goofy but entertaining anime plot" to "honestly powerful final act" as quickly as it did, and I'm left with a genuinely positive impression over all. Stranger of Paradise is a title confident in what it's doing and honest to God believes in itself - and I do, too. This is my favorite Final Fantasy in a long, long time. Since the XIII games, for sure. And yes, it did it its way.
It's still pretty surreal, sitting down to write this piece, to be able to say it, but Stranger of Paradise is easily the most ballsy and unique entry the Final Fantasy series has seen since the XIII trilogy, and stands pretty easily as my favorite entry of the post-VIII games. It's like the ambitious, earnest, and thrill-seeking Final Fantasy never left us. After decades of what I feel has been a progression of back-stepping, reductive, and trepidatious entries, Stranger of Paradise bursts in, guns blazing and Limp Bizkit blasting, and demands your attention, your frustration, and your heart.
Through the entire experience, I felt like I'd been transported back to the days in which these types of experiences were the norm for major third parties like Square - parts of me even imagine this must've been what lesser titles like Dirge of Cerberus wanted to be. There is no irony to Stranger of Paradise; what you see is what you get, and it stakes its claim as a new step for action-RPGs loudly and pulls it off in stride. The gameplay is just ridiculously fun - swapping between classes, casting magic and going in for strings of melee combos is a blast to pull off in succession. The boss fights are almost all hype as fuck, with awesome delineations between phases to keep things fresh. Modern takes on Final Fantasy I classic bosses that feel fresh and new, while bringing back memories of my first runs through the original title, created memorable moment after moment. Speaking of, the dungeons are pretty breathtaking - and the choice to model each area lightly after a landmark from another Final Fantasy (Mount Gulg after VIII's Fire Cavern, Crystal Mirage after III's Crystal Tower) made this longtime fan stoked to see every new outing spring to life. A mini-map would've been nice for some of these areas, but it never got all too bad; no traditional dungeon crawling here.
Looting was never too overwhelming, save the few times my inventory filled when I really could've used boss drops, but to see Jack and the crew in whatever obnoxiously loud new outfits I obtained next was a joy after another - especially considered like 70% of the outfits in this game constantly clip through themselves. Oh, I love the jank in this game. It was always a laugh WITH the game, not quite at it, and playing the title as a couch hang-out with close friends only accentuated this.
Not to parrot the exact same sentiment as many others have about the plot, but I have to hand it to Stranger of Paradise for taking it from "tacky, goofy but entertaining anime plot" to "honestly powerful final act" as quickly as it did, and I'm left with a genuinely positive impression over all. Stranger of Paradise is a title confident in what it's doing and honest to God believes in itself - and I do, too. This is my favorite Final Fantasy in a long, long time. Since the XIII games, for sure. And yes, it did it its way.
Heisei Pistol Show
2008
Wandering about dreams, or reality
the infamy of love’s double edged sword. exerted above and beneath a euphoric night sky filled with stars of incomprehensible emotion.
LOVE IS FAKE
stars reach endlessly across the sea of night. though what they seek may only be fantasy.
LOVE IS RAINBOW
of the stars that twinkle, bright and dim, there is purity and harmony inside each and every one.
LOVE IS HERO
the curtain closes behind his feet. in his shadow, behind the curtain, footsteps lay permanently embedded into a meadow of sentiment. the stars remain entranced.
If there’s no bright future without him gone, then I’ll descend into hell with him by my side.
there is heartbreak among the stars. they are unable to ascertain their dream and reality.
A farce of my own selfishness
simply beautiful.
the infamy of love’s double edged sword. exerted above and beneath a euphoric night sky filled with stars of incomprehensible emotion.
LOVE IS FAKE
stars reach endlessly across the sea of night. though what they seek may only be fantasy.
LOVE IS RAINBOW
of the stars that twinkle, bright and dim, there is purity and harmony inside each and every one.
LOVE IS HERO
the curtain closes behind his feet. in his shadow, behind the curtain, footsteps lay permanently embedded into a meadow of sentiment. the stars remain entranced.
If there’s no bright future without him gone, then I’ll descend into hell with him by my side.
there is heartbreak among the stars. they are unable to ascertain their dream and reality.
A farce of my own selfishness
simply beautiful.
Yakuza 2
2006
the ending was the biggest piece of dogshit but then I saw Suda51 in the credits
With its cacophonous city street designs and bold vibrant greens and reds, Resident Evil 3: Nemesis is arguably the series' most plainly beautiful release. The claustrophobic, labyrinthine alleyways and avenues are clearly spawned from the minds of Japanese developers, and offer this American-set apocalypse a dream-like atmosphere to buoy the action elements and exciting horror fodder. Alongside the artistic vision, this scenario also habitually imbues the subtext with a sort of nationalist retort to pride; a significant American city on the eve of doomsday, a clocktower counting down the seconds till mass destruction, in the wake of a particularly capitalistic failure.
The zombies have never looked better up until this game, as they're reactive to combat and have a striking sense of physicality, as opposed to the target practice enemies which came before. Indeed, Nemesis pushes the PSX's technical capabilities to the edge, and each map, each room, each frame is a delight to the senses beside the delectable carnage.
The central gimmick here arrives in the form of the titular beast: an experiment in genetic warfare, created to destroy truth-seekers and cover up the inimitable Umbrella Corporation's vile, exploitative operations. Nemesis is prone to appear at any given moment, especially as the player progresses through the game, and depending on the difficulty setting can prove a formidable foe.
The recent Resident Evil 2 Remake's Mr. X doesn't hold a candle to this opponent, mainly due to level design working in favor of the rules governing Nemesis. Each door leads to a new area separated from the next, so being chased through a gauntlet of doorways and fixed cameras (not to mention puzzles) restrains perspective and limits adaptability. Mr. X can be vanquished and made a fool; Nemesis, aside from triggered cutscenes, is always an oppressive threat. It is a testament to the lasting power of old-school survival horror game design; if you're low on ammo, better get running.
A proper sequel, Nemesis builds on the core gameplay strengths of its predecessors without succumbing to fatigue. If Resident Evil 4 never happened, one might only guess as to the prospective future-present of tank controls and tactical combat, especially given how successfully RE3 builds layers over its series roots, like a thick coat of luscious, bloody paint. The story's conclusion is morbid and deceptively victorious, as Jill flies off into the sunset, leaving behind a ruptured piece of America left smoldering in flames, brought to ruin by its own hands. Citizens sacrificed for the sake of national security. There just polygons on a screen after all, right?
The zombies have never looked better up until this game, as they're reactive to combat and have a striking sense of physicality, as opposed to the target practice enemies which came before. Indeed, Nemesis pushes the PSX's technical capabilities to the edge, and each map, each room, each frame is a delight to the senses beside the delectable carnage.
The central gimmick here arrives in the form of the titular beast: an experiment in genetic warfare, created to destroy truth-seekers and cover up the inimitable Umbrella Corporation's vile, exploitative operations. Nemesis is prone to appear at any given moment, especially as the player progresses through the game, and depending on the difficulty setting can prove a formidable foe.
The recent Resident Evil 2 Remake's Mr. X doesn't hold a candle to this opponent, mainly due to level design working in favor of the rules governing Nemesis. Each door leads to a new area separated from the next, so being chased through a gauntlet of doorways and fixed cameras (not to mention puzzles) restrains perspective and limits adaptability. Mr. X can be vanquished and made a fool; Nemesis, aside from triggered cutscenes, is always an oppressive threat. It is a testament to the lasting power of old-school survival horror game design; if you're low on ammo, better get running.
A proper sequel, Nemesis builds on the core gameplay strengths of its predecessors without succumbing to fatigue. If Resident Evil 4 never happened, one might only guess as to the prospective future-present of tank controls and tactical combat, especially given how successfully RE3 builds layers over its series roots, like a thick coat of luscious, bloody paint. The story's conclusion is morbid and deceptively victorious, as Jill flies off into the sunset, leaving behind a ruptured piece of America left smoldering in flames, brought to ruin by its own hands. Citizens sacrificed for the sake of national security. There just polygons on a screen after all, right?
Yakuza
2005
10 years of modern gaming made you a fucking pussy if this is what you consider "dated"
Katamari Damacy
2004
randomly a katamari damacy ost came up while i was studying and listening to a Best VideoGame Music Ever ™ playlist and i havent been the same person ever since
now i always had an idea that katamari damacy was a game that everybody loved and adored for reasons that were outside of my conscience and since i had never watched any gameplay or shit like that i was like “people love this game ! ok next” and like saw the cover art and i thought it was probably gonna be a nostalgia filled childish videogame with okay ish mechanics and a silly story and id say i was half right
after listening to masterpiece roll me in i HAD to take a leap of faith head first into this game because that ost is completely insane im not even joking if you havent just listen to it its breath taking and the fact that it single handedly lured me into a game where you roll a fucking ball is so funny to me but im glad it did
sooooooooo whats katamari . i kind of got no clue but i realised that katamari damashi aka 塊魂 means clump spirit and its honestly the funniest shit ever and also the kanji look so similar thats probably another reason why they chose this wacky title
and you can even witness how FUCKING wacky this game is by the absolute insane opening this is the closest thing to a heavy drug trip i ever experienced im not joking
basically the story follow the little prince who got ordered by his father (fathers?) king of the cosmos to roll up some katamari > clumps to make some stars out of them because he destroyed the entire universe after a psychotic episode or something like acid LSD i guess trip since he also says he had fun so . yeah its up to the little prince (cutest character ever i want to smooch him hes soooooooooo + hes like half a feet tall so best little baby man lil lil baby man lil lil baby baby man) to get the galaxies back up there using the other main character THE KATAMARI a ball yeah its basically a ball so
apart from the weird as fuck premise something that completely took ME out was the character design that i was witnessing the king is a sight to behold completely and to this moment i still cant recover from that i dont understand how they came up with this Giga Chad ultra wide hammerhead shark non binary fellow i really want to see the behind the scenes of his design im not joking im reaching out to the art direction of this game because this is unreal
hes not the only hammerhead person here the little prince and the queen (non existent character basically) and all the cousins of the king have this weird genome something that causes them to have this incredibly weird shape but i love them theyre my babies and i will protect them from people trying to stomp on them
and also yeah theres people in this game and funnily enough one side story is about a square faced family trying to get in a space station or something i got no idea while the prince is in the meantime rolling around entire cities but ok its fun i like this game
so if i tell you this game has the most stupid story and also the most stupid gameplay ? yeah masterpiece . what you gotta do is push the katamari around which ok we settled it its a ball ok a sphere so you have a tutorial where you understand how this works its kinda weird at first but you will get the hang of it in no time im stupid and i managed to get the jist of the mechanics in like 3 levels so youre fine that being said . thats it thats the gameplay you roll this ball around and run over everything that you encounter and make the ball bigger to ingest even more stuff and/or explore new areas
this is possibly the most simple concept ever created but i can assure you its a drug theres something so rudimentary and primal about the need for a person to create a mass of junk and roll it around like youre in a dung beetle simulator im just idk this satisfies possibly every need of creativity i had in my life its just so stupid like my mind goes “hehe get things ball bigger hehe swoosh” the end some new level of zen entertainment meditation people have been real silent since this dropped
so anyway this has also quite some complexity in the physics department or else it would be boring so thereslong object such as poles and arrows or shit like that that will unbalance the katamari and make it leap from time to time or when you collapse with something too big you will lose some stuff that was in the katamari in the collision and you can push the katamari up some steps if its big enough and thats it i think the end of the depth in the mechanics
so the levels follow some kind of progression and theres 2 types the "get to a certain diameter of the katamari" OR "get a certain number of objects" and thats basically it
diameter levels have some progression in scale youll begin being really small and suck up pins or coins and till the very end of the game youll be able to roll up cars people animals entire cities or entire masses of land so thats funny as hell
object levels center around the object of the constellation youre trying to recreate so thats pretty straight forward stuff sometimes the king require only one (1) object and these levels can last for and im not joking 10 seconds at best
at the end of the levels youll get a rating but nobody cares about that and some super fucking funny comments from the king i hate that bitch i swear hes so random
and thats basically it this could be the entire description of the game if only . IF ONLY there wasnt another thing that made me reach nirvana
the ost in this game is phenomenal its jaw dropping its absolutely unbelievable songs like roll me up and que sera sera or even UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WALKING ON A STAR but basically every single track in this game is an experience of its own and it has so many different genres like theres pop ???? electronic??? jazz ummmmmh ambient stuff and some piano bar and different talented artists its honestly absolutely incredible that a game like this has some of the most varied and perfect pieces of music in the videogame medium please just play it for the ost im begging you just do it for the incredible stuff that your ears are gonna listen to
so ugh
umh
i think im already done with considerations on this game damn that was fast but the fact that this is kind of a short review doesnt mean this game doesnt deserve praises its more about the fact that sometimes the most simple and straight forward stuff can be the most artistically evocative and im just leaving that here folks
this game makes me feel like a 7 year old again like this idea wouldve come out a childs mind
i watched a 1 hour documentary about this game thats how much i wanted to know about the thought process that gave birth to this odd ball + the fact that the objects ingame were modeled by students from some art school or something is so cool
the girl going “i feel it i feel the cosmos” might be the person with the most opened chakras ive ever encountered in my life i so aspire to be her her connection with her spiritual side is to be envied mooooooooo
still angry the king didnt visit italy are you italophobic
the fact that all the songs either say katamari somewhere or have some sort of pun on rolling stuff and balls its so fucking hilarious i cant believe this game is real
my only complaint would be that the levels might get kind of samey in the end and thats because it they reuse the same assets for every single level but thats fine i can close an eye for this one and its a thing that theyll fix in katamari 2 so ITS FINE ITS FINE ITS STILL GREAT
+ the sound design is fire nothing like hearing people scream in my ears animals cry and lands getting eradicated from earth
NOOOOOOOOOOO EMMA STAR
now i always had an idea that katamari damacy was a game that everybody loved and adored for reasons that were outside of my conscience and since i had never watched any gameplay or shit like that i was like “people love this game ! ok next” and like saw the cover art and i thought it was probably gonna be a nostalgia filled childish videogame with okay ish mechanics and a silly story and id say i was half right
after listening to masterpiece roll me in i HAD to take a leap of faith head first into this game because that ost is completely insane im not even joking if you havent just listen to it its breath taking and the fact that it single handedly lured me into a game where you roll a fucking ball is so funny to me but im glad it did
sooooooooo whats katamari . i kind of got no clue but i realised that katamari damashi aka 塊魂 means clump spirit and its honestly the funniest shit ever and also the kanji look so similar thats probably another reason why they chose this wacky title
and you can even witness how FUCKING wacky this game is by the absolute insane opening this is the closest thing to a heavy drug trip i ever experienced im not joking
basically the story follow the little prince who got ordered by his father (fathers?) king of the cosmos to roll up some katamari > clumps to make some stars out of them because he destroyed the entire universe after a psychotic episode or something like acid LSD i guess trip since he also says he had fun so . yeah its up to the little prince (cutest character ever i want to smooch him hes soooooooooo + hes like half a feet tall so best little baby man lil lil baby man lil lil baby baby man) to get the galaxies back up there using the other main character THE KATAMARI a ball yeah its basically a ball so
apart from the weird as fuck premise something that completely took ME out was the character design that i was witnessing the king is a sight to behold completely and to this moment i still cant recover from that i dont understand how they came up with this Giga Chad ultra wide hammerhead shark non binary fellow i really want to see the behind the scenes of his design im not joking im reaching out to the art direction of this game because this is unreal
hes not the only hammerhead person here the little prince and the queen (non existent character basically) and all the cousins of the king have this weird genome something that causes them to have this incredibly weird shape but i love them theyre my babies and i will protect them from people trying to stomp on them
and also yeah theres people in this game and funnily enough one side story is about a square faced family trying to get in a space station or something i got no idea while the prince is in the meantime rolling around entire cities but ok its fun i like this game
so if i tell you this game has the most stupid story and also the most stupid gameplay ? yeah masterpiece . what you gotta do is push the katamari around which ok we settled it its a ball ok a sphere so you have a tutorial where you understand how this works its kinda weird at first but you will get the hang of it in no time im stupid and i managed to get the jist of the mechanics in like 3 levels so youre fine that being said . thats it thats the gameplay you roll this ball around and run over everything that you encounter and make the ball bigger to ingest even more stuff and/or explore new areas
this is possibly the most simple concept ever created but i can assure you its a drug theres something so rudimentary and primal about the need for a person to create a mass of junk and roll it around like youre in a dung beetle simulator im just idk this satisfies possibly every need of creativity i had in my life its just so stupid like my mind goes “hehe get things ball bigger hehe swoosh” the end some new level of zen entertainment meditation people have been real silent since this dropped
so anyway this has also quite some complexity in the physics department or else it would be boring so thereslong object such as poles and arrows or shit like that that will unbalance the katamari and make it leap from time to time or when you collapse with something too big you will lose some stuff that was in the katamari in the collision and you can push the katamari up some steps if its big enough and thats it i think the end of the depth in the mechanics
so the levels follow some kind of progression and theres 2 types the "get to a certain diameter of the katamari" OR "get a certain number of objects" and thats basically it
diameter levels have some progression in scale youll begin being really small and suck up pins or coins and till the very end of the game youll be able to roll up cars people animals entire cities or entire masses of land so thats funny as hell
object levels center around the object of the constellation youre trying to recreate so thats pretty straight forward stuff sometimes the king require only one (1) object and these levels can last for and im not joking 10 seconds at best
at the end of the levels youll get a rating but nobody cares about that and some super fucking funny comments from the king i hate that bitch i swear hes so random
and thats basically it this could be the entire description of the game if only . IF ONLY there wasnt another thing that made me reach nirvana
the ost in this game is phenomenal its jaw dropping its absolutely unbelievable songs like roll me up and que sera sera or even UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WALKING ON A STAR but basically every single track in this game is an experience of its own and it has so many different genres like theres pop ???? electronic??? jazz ummmmmh ambient stuff and some piano bar and different talented artists its honestly absolutely incredible that a game like this has some of the most varied and perfect pieces of music in the videogame medium please just play it for the ost im begging you just do it for the incredible stuff that your ears are gonna listen to
so ugh
umh
i think im already done with considerations on this game damn that was fast but the fact that this is kind of a short review doesnt mean this game doesnt deserve praises its more about the fact that sometimes the most simple and straight forward stuff can be the most artistically evocative and im just leaving that here folks
this game makes me feel like a 7 year old again like this idea wouldve come out a childs mind
i watched a 1 hour documentary about this game thats how much i wanted to know about the thought process that gave birth to this odd ball + the fact that the objects ingame were modeled by students from some art school or something is so cool
the girl going “i feel it i feel the cosmos” might be the person with the most opened chakras ive ever encountered in my life i so aspire to be her her connection with her spiritual side is to be envied mooooooooo
still angry the king didnt visit italy are you italophobic
the fact that all the songs either say katamari somewhere or have some sort of pun on rolling stuff and balls its so fucking hilarious i cant believe this game is real
my only complaint would be that the levels might get kind of samey in the end and thats because it they reuse the same assets for every single level but thats fine i can close an eye for this one and its a thing that theyll fix in katamari 2 so ITS FINE ITS FINE ITS STILL GREAT
+ the sound design is fire nothing like hearing people scream in my ears animals cry and lands getting eradicated from earth
NOOOOOOOOOOO EMMA STAR
Out of all visual novels, I would argue that fata is most akin to the Western Canon aka the "great classics" of literature (don quixote, shakepeare, edgar allen poe, dickens, etc.). It's a very, very, VERY difficult read, much more so than steins;gate or fate or clannad or any other highly rated visual novel. Part of it has to deal with the heavy philosophical undertones, multiple layers of narrative, and overall complex writing structure that the visual novel uses. Part of it is due to the heavy and serious topics the vn covers, as well as the complexity of the characters involved. No character is underdevelooped in this vn, in fact some may argue that characters are OVERdeveloped. Compared to any other vn, fata's characters (especially jacobo) feel a lot more "human" because of this extensive development.
Good morning.
This farewell is as sad for me as it is for you.
I’ve prepared a goodbye party for tonight. A game competition will be included as well, so please feel free to participate.
The difficulty is small, but not to be trifled with.
As this will be the last opportunity, why not take part yourself?
Written in 1928 by S. S. Van Dine, the article “Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories” is a fascinating collection of 20 writing regulations that could, in theory, elevate a given investigation tale to its best possible iteration. Described by close friend and timeless author T. S. Eliot, as to one day having a nervous breakdown and spending the following 2 years in bed reading more than two thousand detective stories, the poet argues that during that time, Van Dine methodically distilled the genre’s formulas and began writing novels, to which he considered them to be masterpieces.
Out of his absurdly strict rulings, some may argue that most of them can in fact improve the narrative such as (10) stating that the culprit must play a role in the story and (15) stating that the truth of the problem must at all times be apparent, giving so a chance to the reader to decipher the story alongside the detective and not having to rely on hunches from time to time. The reception for his failed jurisdiction on the detective genre became a moderate success from the makers of such stories but not so much by the fans. It rejected possible clichés such as (11) servants not being able to be the culprits, and narratives that were not explored around enough at time such as (12) multiple culprits. People like clichés what can you do...
Over time however, reception of it started to get even worse, not only because of what was mentioned before, but in no small part due to the release in the following year of a much moreCHAD reasonable article dissecting the mystery genre and its inner workings, called Knox's Decalogue, written by Ronald Knox. In one of literature's biggest middle finger ever, his 10 points were almost 1 to 1 with half of the Twenty Rules, prioritized giving the viewer a fair challenge of a tale, but this time allowing cliché tropes and creative liberties about its possible cast. Imagine Van Dine’s reaction seeing that become overwhelmingly more praised from writers and viewers alike. Take this big fucking L, nerd.
And while we get gaslit into thinking that the viewers rights to “fight back” in the intellectual game wasnt started by Dine, he will probably keep seething in his grave over the fact that some rules are obviously made to be broken at times, simply for fun. Even looking at the books in "golden age", some break fundamental rules that are praised nonetheless for it's creativity, as sometimes you can fix this unfairness in the game by using foreshadowing effectively (hats off to Disco Elysium). I am here solely to add to his perpetual torment in the history books arguing that his ruling number 3 in particular, is fundamentally why people like me and other highly sexy and intellectual individuals preffer theCHAD reasonable Knox's Decalogue more.
COMMANDMENT 3:
THERE MUST BE NO LOVE INTEREST. THE BUSINESS IN HAND IS TO BRING A CRIMINAL TO THE BAR OF JUSTICE, NOT TO BRING A LOVELORN COUPLE TO THE HYMENEAL ALTAR
It’s easy to just stop here and think about how many great mysteries would have not existed or be less impactful had every writer followed up on that, but we have to remember that this comes from someone living in what was soon perceived as the “golden years” for said genre. While you could argue that love could bypass any resemblance of a logical reasoning to which it would be the ends but not the why’s (aka when love devolves into lunacy with the killer incessantly screaming “I loved her” while being taken away) these are far and few between to be argued on Van Dine’s favor. Human affection can and will lead to insanity, but if the ultimate end goal is also one, was it really love?
The important element about love as a reason that has failed to be comprehended here, is that it can take many forms that I simply wouldn’t have time to begin describing here, as with just the change of a simple word in “love for others” becoming “love of others” you can turn tragedy into fortune. While the advent of romantic love that is heavily implied here does mean that the amount of plausible given possibilities are diminished, lesser infinities are still endless.
Now I’m sorry, but will there EVER be a better motive to kill, murder and slaughter someone, than the reason that brings up the loss of reason itself?
I will go further. There CANNOT be a single plausible reason for a murder in a tale that values the life of its characters and doesn't treat them as pieces waiting to fall off the board, other than actions relating to the innate fondness of others that we so desperately need. A given character in a tale that has their own romantic life all figured out should never be the killer nor suspect, as the most impactful and sincere motivation, from the bottom of their hearts, cannot be present.
Van Dine’s precepts make it very clear that (17) crimes by house-breakers and bandits are the province of the police department, not of authors and brilliant amateur detectives. If you fail to treat your victims and killers with the same amount of respect for an action that isn’t guided by an illogical leap-of-faith that seeks adoration of some sort, was it really a murderer or an overly intricate common burglar?
Love is the reason we sin.
Love is the reason we go further.
Love is the reason we are humans.
And to put it extremely bluntly.
Love just makes us do some stupid ass shit.
“ Love is generous, love is merciful.
Love does not envy, it does not boast. “ - Zepar & Furfur
" At times, love can make the invisible visible. " - Featherine
“ The love we give away is the only love we keep. “ - Ushiromiya Ange
“ To fear love is to fear life, and vice-versa.
One must never embrace death as long as love persists. “ - Ronove
“ Without love, it cannot be seen. “ - Beatrice
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Welp, I’ve used all my pretentiousness for now.
I know someone really special will be reading this soon so I’ll be brief now.
Merry Christmas Audrey.
I love you so much.
Do you want to be my girlfriend?
This farewell is as sad for me as it is for you.
I’ve prepared a goodbye party for tonight. A game competition will be included as well, so please feel free to participate.
The difficulty is small, but not to be trifled with.
As this will be the last opportunity, why not take part yourself?
Written in 1928 by S. S. Van Dine, the article “Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories” is a fascinating collection of 20 writing regulations that could, in theory, elevate a given investigation tale to its best possible iteration. Described by close friend and timeless author T. S. Eliot, as to one day having a nervous breakdown and spending the following 2 years in bed reading more than two thousand detective stories, the poet argues that during that time, Van Dine methodically distilled the genre’s formulas and began writing novels, to which he considered them to be masterpieces.
Out of his absurdly strict rulings, some may argue that most of them can in fact improve the narrative such as (10) stating that the culprit must play a role in the story and (15) stating that the truth of the problem must at all times be apparent, giving so a chance to the reader to decipher the story alongside the detective and not having to rely on hunches from time to time. The reception for his failed jurisdiction on the detective genre became a moderate success from the makers of such stories but not so much by the fans. It rejected possible clichés such as (11) servants not being able to be the culprits, and narratives that were not explored around enough at time such as (12) multiple culprits. People like clichés what can you do...
Over time however, reception of it started to get even worse, not only because of what was mentioned before, but in no small part due to the release in the following year of a much more
And while we get gaslit into thinking that the viewers rights to “fight back” in the intellectual game wasnt started by Dine, he will probably keep seething in his grave over the fact that some rules are obviously made to be broken at times, simply for fun. Even looking at the books in "golden age", some break fundamental rules that are praised nonetheless for it's creativity, as sometimes you can fix this unfairness in the game by using foreshadowing effectively (hats off to Disco Elysium). I am here solely to add to his perpetual torment in the history books arguing that his ruling number 3 in particular, is fundamentally why people like me and other highly sexy and intellectual individuals preffer the
COMMANDMENT 3:
THERE MUST BE NO LOVE INTEREST. THE BUSINESS IN HAND IS TO BRING A CRIMINAL TO THE BAR OF JUSTICE, NOT TO BRING A LOVELORN COUPLE TO THE HYMENEAL ALTAR
It’s easy to just stop here and think about how many great mysteries would have not existed or be less impactful had every writer followed up on that, but we have to remember that this comes from someone living in what was soon perceived as the “golden years” for said genre. While you could argue that love could bypass any resemblance of a logical reasoning to which it would be the ends but not the why’s (aka when love devolves into lunacy with the killer incessantly screaming “I loved her” while being taken away) these are far and few between to be argued on Van Dine’s favor. Human affection can and will lead to insanity, but if the ultimate end goal is also one, was it really love?
The important element about love as a reason that has failed to be comprehended here, is that it can take many forms that I simply wouldn’t have time to begin describing here, as with just the change of a simple word in “love for others” becoming “love of others” you can turn tragedy into fortune. While the advent of romantic love that is heavily implied here does mean that the amount of plausible given possibilities are diminished, lesser infinities are still endless.
Now I’m sorry, but will there EVER be a better motive to kill, murder and slaughter someone, than the reason that brings up the loss of reason itself?
I will go further. There CANNOT be a single plausible reason for a murder in a tale that values the life of its characters and doesn't treat them as pieces waiting to fall off the board, other than actions relating to the innate fondness of others that we so desperately need. A given character in a tale that has their own romantic life all figured out should never be the killer nor suspect, as the most impactful and sincere motivation, from the bottom of their hearts, cannot be present.
Van Dine’s precepts make it very clear that (17) crimes by house-breakers and bandits are the province of the police department, not of authors and brilliant amateur detectives. If you fail to treat your victims and killers with the same amount of respect for an action that isn’t guided by an illogical leap-of-faith that seeks adoration of some sort, was it really a murderer or an overly intricate common burglar?
Love is the reason we sin.
Love is the reason we go further.
Love is the reason we are humans.
And to put it extremely bluntly.
Love just makes us do some stupid ass shit.
“ Love is generous, love is merciful.
Love does not envy, it does not boast. “ - Zepar & Furfur
" At times, love can make the invisible visible. " - Featherine
“ The love we give away is the only love we keep. “ - Ushiromiya Ange
“ To fear love is to fear life, and vice-versa.
One must never embrace death as long as love persists. “ - Ronove
“ Without love, it cannot be seen. “ - Beatrice
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Welp, I’ve used all my pretentiousness for now.
I know someone really special will be reading this soon so I’ll be brief now.
Merry Christmas Audrey.
I love you so much.
Do you want to be my girlfriend?
Sin and Punishment
2000
Played for 3 minutes. I've seen enough.
Note: This is going to be a largely personal and reflective piece of writing similar to my piece regarding Higurashi When They Cry’s first half - so if an intimate conversation about myself just as much as it is about this game isn’t your thing, totally valid and understandable. Oh, and this is going to talk about the “Saikoroshi” chapter of Higurashi Rei as well, as I feel it’s best discussed in tandem with the Answer Arcs here - so spoiler warning for all of Chapters 5-8 and Saikoroshi. Also, a content warning for topics of mental illness, self-harm, abuse, and all that entails. I love you and I cannot thank you enough for your time in advance. You aren’t alone.
One of the most difficult things about depression centered around traumatic episodes is that they often chip away and rob you of the things you enjoyed most around those times. It’s been a very difficult journey to reclaim some of my favorite memories, experiences and works of art over the last few years, and I've found it harder than ever to commit to projects or engage with artwork and see it to completion on my own. Anyone who knows me can tell you that’s pretty out of character; I’ve got a penchant for dropping everything to fully embibe myself in some new fascination on a seeming whim, to completely commit to a new horizon and engage with it with a sincerity and passion I’d previously considered reserved only for that which came before it. That stopped a few years ago, and like I said, it’s been a long journey back up that hill. That would’ve been an impossible task without the support group of closest friends I’ve learned to rely and count on since the recovery process began. I’m fortunate to have a friend-group in which I have been positioned to host events and discussions around media - film, music, games, literature, the works - and show up for my ardently patient, curious and brilliantly kind and courteous friends and bring my a-game each and every stream, each and every discussion, each and every day. We’re more than just a hangout group, though - we’ve weathered trauma and pain, grief and loss together. It is a castle held up by each and every stone in the wall. That’s why I was even able to force myself through Higurashi in the first place - because of my friends, because of the fact that I owed them the responsibility to be myself, to express and to feel alongside them, and not to shut myself out and isolate, to mull and wade in my own self-destruction and pity. This was and has been, as I said, a period of recovery - this was the story of my atonement and my growth. Of course, I didn’t know that Higurashi would shed itself to me, Ryukishi’s arms extended, and that I would find my own answers somewhere in this nearly three-month experience. I didn’t know that I had the single most impactful and reflective experience of my adult life with a work of art in front of me. Strange how that happens - just when it’s needed.
It is a hurdle to be a traumatized person, yet to love and to be loved. There exists some paranoia and constant state of doubt that can, like a crack of lighting, strike down any moment of peace and clarity and bring about questioning, self-talk, and confusion. To hear and comprehend that you deserve what you have but, not unlike tasting something bitter, feel your body reject the notion and spit it back out. Sometimes this coagulates into anger, or resentment, sometimes into defensiveness and a desperate clawing-out of social situations. To be hung up on your thoughts in these times, and to believe the things you tell yourself creates a tunnel-vision in which your suspicions turn to truths, your doubt becomes your sword, and your world gets smaller, and smaller, and more and more hopeless without anything actually happening. It’s hard to understand that people outside of your fucked up little maze you’ve splayed out for yourself might perceive you as something more than your illness defines. You take everything at a second meaning. It’s amazing what we can do to ourselves; or, I guess, what our heads are allowed to do to us. It’s been a hurdle to know and understand deep, intimate love, to drop the shields and let that vulnerability show even when the results typically turn out rancid. God knows I’ve got scars. I’m sure a lot of us do. You can see some of them, some you can’t - and I really hope the former never ever come back by my own hands. It’s an impossible feat to comprehend that someone could find beauty around, and yes - even in - that scarred skin, that scarred heart… but this was always a story about miracles, even before we had the means to see that. Love conquers all. Trust and love are the blade and shield of absolute truth and miraculousness. Higurashi is not a story solved with all the guns, cleavers, knives, or baseball bats in the world - it’s the warm, tender feeling of fingers wrapping around one another and the pulling of muscles to form a ring of smiles.
When I retrace the memories and allow myself to step out of the first-person and look at the majority of my adult life thus far, I realize that so much of my time has been spent in the pursuit of absolvement - both from actions, attitudes and situations I have participated or acted upon, as well as - and equally as much - ones beyond my control or centered around my self-perceived place inside them and guilt squared around them. It has taken years to be able to look at situations I’ve carried guilt about - both punishing others just as much as those where the hammer fell down on me - and be able to say with a level of confidence and assuredness “this was not me, and it was not my fault”. If anything, that’s been the harder trial I’ve had to face than to accept accountability and own up to it where it counts. I’m lucky enough to have both grown up around people whose tremendous mistakes and self-centered actions had immediate and scarring ramifications on the lives of myself and others, but to understand those mistakes as well as my own and be taught the throughline of action to consequence and be shown that I’m capable of that the same as anyone else is. Accountability and the opportunity to amend are two of my key values - integrity interloping with both of them - and they’re the foundation of all of my most trusted and intimate relationships. I have made plenty of mistakes for which I’ve paid dearly, and I’ve had actions taken upon me that have left just as many marks. But it was through a series of steps towards recovery in the aftermath of someone else’s impacting decisions that tore my life apart where I began to understand that growth and acceptance can come from anywhere. I’ve been through things I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, but I’m glad some of them happened, because they became moments of introspection where I needed to whittle everything down to the basics and build myself back up with the spotlight of my caring, earnest, and worried friends cast on me - I needed to prove myself and earn my way into a new way of life, regardless of where that situation came from or how it came about. The cycles of manipulation and abuse continued to spin my trajectory and yet, with the hands of my friends who so often reached out, I was able to pull through and see the other side. In recovery from trauma I found a new lease on my existence and equanimity for so many roads I’d taken, so many lives I’d led, so many decisions I’d made, and so many times I’d considered what the cost and point and keeping up with trying even valued. It was my wake-up call and ironically something I’m honestly kind of glad went down. The cycle broke. Despite everything. No longer on the losing end - it was a miracle forged by extended hands. Mine became a game with no losers.
The resonance of these values and the wake and rebirth of these values and this lease on existence are found ubiquitously through the dynamic with the entire group of people I shared the experience of Higurashi When They Cry with. There is emanating selflessness and kindness and humility coming off of each of these people who I’m fortunate to have spent these 160 hours with - and knowing that this story and this experience left a lasting, profound impact on the group at large is something that is said without the need for words. There aren’t many times I can think of in my life where a totally world-altering experience like this that I’ve had has been shared with and immortalized with a group of people like this before, but it’s one of the most powerful feelings - or, perhaps waves of constant feeling - I’ve ever experienced. In a voice that speaks directly from screen to screen across over fifteen years, Ryukishi broke it down and provided the most succinct measures of our progress and our being to us - ours can be a game without losers; you don’t need to go to school, and it can’t teach you art; atonement is personal and internal first and foremost; your legacy isn’t defined by immediate attention to your craft; your communities and your relationships are your proof of your worth. All of these are takeaways we collectively needed to have and sit with. It’s a set of experiences which speaks to the heart of what our purpose in engaging with artwork as a collective is, with the people we do it with, the way we choose to do it. Atonement came and passed through this group all throughout the experience and continued to be a means for us to look towards our better selves - whether these were aspirations for the future or an unclouded look at what we already were.
Sitting at the heart of this story, or maybe more aptly, surrounding this story, is a girl in need of help. Her poems, her conversations, her defense mechanisms, her sifting of the fragments in search of her answer. She sits outside the realm of the fictional work of art she seeks desperately for her reflection in, still drowning in the drink of grief and isolation. Her eyes see only apathy and destitution - as she sees it, she was born into a life of constant sorrow and she might as well take the ride the ticket she was bought offers. She couldn’t possibly the hands she might’ve had extended to her, even as she watches Rika and Hanyū harden their resolve and attend their perfect June of 1983. When the show is over, when all is said and done, and even Takano gains a second chance, Bernkastel sits alone, staring at her reflection in the pool of wine and the fractals of art, fiction and life spread out on her empty floor. There came an understanding by the time Saikoroshi was said and done - for a moment, I was her. For just a slim period of time, I sat there, draped against the floor in her lonely witch’s lair, on the vast shores of destiny and causality, searching for myself. Higurashi When They Cry stared us both back in the face. The difference lies in my surroundings - my friends. My future. My willingness to change. My responsibility. My awakening. My atonement. The accompaniment of the keys to my next summer. My answer. Tears were shared, laughs were had, hugs and thanks and stories and reflections were made. A door to a brighter future, my true route, my perfect ending, was open. A fistful of fragments containing future lifelong memories, 160+ hours of intimate joy, mystery, grief, tears, smiles, gratitude, shock, pride, sorrow, and unending, limitless, borderless, time-transcending, and yes - miraculous love in hand; I clutch in my grasp my favorite period of my adult life, my now-most treasured and beloved work of fiction, and the most incredible experience this medium has yet to offer me, and with my other hand, I begin a daisy chain of holding hands, smiling through tears, from one friend to the next, hopefully reaching all the way from here to Hinamizawa, marching forever into the next perfect summer.
“The storyteller makes no choice;
Soon, you will not hear his voice.
His job is to shed light,
And not to master.”
One of the most difficult things about depression centered around traumatic episodes is that they often chip away and rob you of the things you enjoyed most around those times. It’s been a very difficult journey to reclaim some of my favorite memories, experiences and works of art over the last few years, and I've found it harder than ever to commit to projects or engage with artwork and see it to completion on my own. Anyone who knows me can tell you that’s pretty out of character; I’ve got a penchant for dropping everything to fully embibe myself in some new fascination on a seeming whim, to completely commit to a new horizon and engage with it with a sincerity and passion I’d previously considered reserved only for that which came before it. That stopped a few years ago, and like I said, it’s been a long journey back up that hill. That would’ve been an impossible task without the support group of closest friends I’ve learned to rely and count on since the recovery process began. I’m fortunate to have a friend-group in which I have been positioned to host events and discussions around media - film, music, games, literature, the works - and show up for my ardently patient, curious and brilliantly kind and courteous friends and bring my a-game each and every stream, each and every discussion, each and every day. We’re more than just a hangout group, though - we’ve weathered trauma and pain, grief and loss together. It is a castle held up by each and every stone in the wall. That’s why I was even able to force myself through Higurashi in the first place - because of my friends, because of the fact that I owed them the responsibility to be myself, to express and to feel alongside them, and not to shut myself out and isolate, to mull and wade in my own self-destruction and pity. This was and has been, as I said, a period of recovery - this was the story of my atonement and my growth. Of course, I didn’t know that Higurashi would shed itself to me, Ryukishi’s arms extended, and that I would find my own answers somewhere in this nearly three-month experience. I didn’t know that I had the single most impactful and reflective experience of my adult life with a work of art in front of me. Strange how that happens - just when it’s needed.
It is a hurdle to be a traumatized person, yet to love and to be loved. There exists some paranoia and constant state of doubt that can, like a crack of lighting, strike down any moment of peace and clarity and bring about questioning, self-talk, and confusion. To hear and comprehend that you deserve what you have but, not unlike tasting something bitter, feel your body reject the notion and spit it back out. Sometimes this coagulates into anger, or resentment, sometimes into defensiveness and a desperate clawing-out of social situations. To be hung up on your thoughts in these times, and to believe the things you tell yourself creates a tunnel-vision in which your suspicions turn to truths, your doubt becomes your sword, and your world gets smaller, and smaller, and more and more hopeless without anything actually happening. It’s hard to understand that people outside of your fucked up little maze you’ve splayed out for yourself might perceive you as something more than your illness defines. You take everything at a second meaning. It’s amazing what we can do to ourselves; or, I guess, what our heads are allowed to do to us. It’s been a hurdle to know and understand deep, intimate love, to drop the shields and let that vulnerability show even when the results typically turn out rancid. God knows I’ve got scars. I’m sure a lot of us do. You can see some of them, some you can’t - and I really hope the former never ever come back by my own hands. It’s an impossible feat to comprehend that someone could find beauty around, and yes - even in - that scarred skin, that scarred heart… but this was always a story about miracles, even before we had the means to see that. Love conquers all. Trust and love are the blade and shield of absolute truth and miraculousness. Higurashi is not a story solved with all the guns, cleavers, knives, or baseball bats in the world - it’s the warm, tender feeling of fingers wrapping around one another and the pulling of muscles to form a ring of smiles.
When I retrace the memories and allow myself to step out of the first-person and look at the majority of my adult life thus far, I realize that so much of my time has been spent in the pursuit of absolvement - both from actions, attitudes and situations I have participated or acted upon, as well as - and equally as much - ones beyond my control or centered around my self-perceived place inside them and guilt squared around them. It has taken years to be able to look at situations I’ve carried guilt about - both punishing others just as much as those where the hammer fell down on me - and be able to say with a level of confidence and assuredness “this was not me, and it was not my fault”. If anything, that’s been the harder trial I’ve had to face than to accept accountability and own up to it where it counts. I’m lucky enough to have both grown up around people whose tremendous mistakes and self-centered actions had immediate and scarring ramifications on the lives of myself and others, but to understand those mistakes as well as my own and be taught the throughline of action to consequence and be shown that I’m capable of that the same as anyone else is. Accountability and the opportunity to amend are two of my key values - integrity interloping with both of them - and they’re the foundation of all of my most trusted and intimate relationships. I have made plenty of mistakes for which I’ve paid dearly, and I’ve had actions taken upon me that have left just as many marks. But it was through a series of steps towards recovery in the aftermath of someone else’s impacting decisions that tore my life apart where I began to understand that growth and acceptance can come from anywhere. I’ve been through things I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, but I’m glad some of them happened, because they became moments of introspection where I needed to whittle everything down to the basics and build myself back up with the spotlight of my caring, earnest, and worried friends cast on me - I needed to prove myself and earn my way into a new way of life, regardless of where that situation came from or how it came about. The cycles of manipulation and abuse continued to spin my trajectory and yet, with the hands of my friends who so often reached out, I was able to pull through and see the other side. In recovery from trauma I found a new lease on my existence and equanimity for so many roads I’d taken, so many lives I’d led, so many decisions I’d made, and so many times I’d considered what the cost and point and keeping up with trying even valued. It was my wake-up call and ironically something I’m honestly kind of glad went down. The cycle broke. Despite everything. No longer on the losing end - it was a miracle forged by extended hands. Mine became a game with no losers.
The resonance of these values and the wake and rebirth of these values and this lease on existence are found ubiquitously through the dynamic with the entire group of people I shared the experience of Higurashi When They Cry with. There is emanating selflessness and kindness and humility coming off of each of these people who I’m fortunate to have spent these 160 hours with - and knowing that this story and this experience left a lasting, profound impact on the group at large is something that is said without the need for words. There aren’t many times I can think of in my life where a totally world-altering experience like this that I’ve had has been shared with and immortalized with a group of people like this before, but it’s one of the most powerful feelings - or, perhaps waves of constant feeling - I’ve ever experienced. In a voice that speaks directly from screen to screen across over fifteen years, Ryukishi broke it down and provided the most succinct measures of our progress and our being to us - ours can be a game without losers; you don’t need to go to school, and it can’t teach you art; atonement is personal and internal first and foremost; your legacy isn’t defined by immediate attention to your craft; your communities and your relationships are your proof of your worth. All of these are takeaways we collectively needed to have and sit with. It’s a set of experiences which speaks to the heart of what our purpose in engaging with artwork as a collective is, with the people we do it with, the way we choose to do it. Atonement came and passed through this group all throughout the experience and continued to be a means for us to look towards our better selves - whether these were aspirations for the future or an unclouded look at what we already were.
Sitting at the heart of this story, or maybe more aptly, surrounding this story, is a girl in need of help. Her poems, her conversations, her defense mechanisms, her sifting of the fragments in search of her answer. She sits outside the realm of the fictional work of art she seeks desperately for her reflection in, still drowning in the drink of grief and isolation. Her eyes see only apathy and destitution - as she sees it, she was born into a life of constant sorrow and she might as well take the ride the ticket she was bought offers. She couldn’t possibly the hands she might’ve had extended to her, even as she watches Rika and Hanyū harden their resolve and attend their perfect June of 1983. When the show is over, when all is said and done, and even Takano gains a second chance, Bernkastel sits alone, staring at her reflection in the pool of wine and the fractals of art, fiction and life spread out on her empty floor. There came an understanding by the time Saikoroshi was said and done - for a moment, I was her. For just a slim period of time, I sat there, draped against the floor in her lonely witch’s lair, on the vast shores of destiny and causality, searching for myself. Higurashi When They Cry stared us both back in the face. The difference lies in my surroundings - my friends. My future. My willingness to change. My responsibility. My awakening. My atonement. The accompaniment of the keys to my next summer. My answer. Tears were shared, laughs were had, hugs and thanks and stories and reflections were made. A door to a brighter future, my true route, my perfect ending, was open. A fistful of fragments containing future lifelong memories, 160+ hours of intimate joy, mystery, grief, tears, smiles, gratitude, shock, pride, sorrow, and unending, limitless, borderless, time-transcending, and yes - miraculous love in hand; I clutch in my grasp my favorite period of my adult life, my now-most treasured and beloved work of fiction, and the most incredible experience this medium has yet to offer me, and with my other hand, I begin a daisy chain of holding hands, smiling through tears, from one friend to the next, hopefully reaching all the way from here to Hinamizawa, marching forever into the next perfect summer.
“The storyteller makes no choice;
Soon, you will not hear his voice.
His job is to shed light,
And not to master.”
sotn has remained one of my absolute favorite games since i was 13 and discovering it was akin to the second fucking coming... and it STILL is! some of the coolest art direction and compositions on the psx combined with an air-tight and brilliantly designed first half. obviously yeah, okay, the second major area is a bit lopsided and difficult to traverse but fucking hell if it's not fun to feel totally busted near the end of the game and just rampage through the back half. the corny voice acting and compressed audio makes the experience. still my favorite game in this genre for sure. DARK METAMORPHOSIS!