It’s after midnight and finally I can jump online. My boy has been asleep for hours and I’ve put my wife to bed so maybe I can do a little gaming. I log onto LoL and a three of my buddies are in a game. Cool. I’ll do some other stuff while they finish their game.
Suddenly I get a chat from one of them. “We just won two in a row! Want to jump in?”
Hmm. Dilemma. Yeah, I want to jump in, but if we lose, it’ll get blamed on me. Plus I don’t have “mumble” or whatever it is these guys are using instead of Skype so I won’t be able to communicate as well. I type my concerns to my buddies.
“Don’t worry. We’ll blame the random 5th player if we lose.”
Look at my little sackbot up there, caught in the gears. You’d think that would make me sad. It doesn’t. He’s fine. The gears are just speeding him on his way. I jumped into them on purpose after a creature hinted that I should take “a leap of faith”. I was doing this so I could “defeat the Red Menace” at some point. You read that right. Red Menace. Did I find this disturbing? Nah. You see, once you encounter your first swastika in LBP2, you can pretty much handle a little sackbot communism.
I got dipped into a level about shark attacks, and I immediately got excited. I started spinning up possible headers as the level loaded. Something about a bigger boat would be obvious, and maybe too easy. Something from the Indianapolis monologue perhaps? Or how about swimmin’ with bow-legged women? No. That’s weird.
Then the level started and it was awfulness. Just gigantic sharks attacking and my little sack dude screaming his head off in this awful manner. I shudder thinking about it. I finally figured out how to use the grappling hook to get away from the sharks and…what? A row of collectible object bubbles over my head, out of my reach, and smack dab in the center is a Nazi symbol. Here? Really?
I left feeling crappy, wondering what I was supposed to do. Report it? Give the creator a pointed review? I don’t know. It was just so out of left field. I waxed poetic about the “community” feel of this section of LBP2 previously. Doesn’t that word also suggest responsibility for those who play in the community?
I ended up just moving on and found the nice Red Menace level pictured. Actually it’s called The Fearsome Challenge. It was neither, truth be told, but it was a relief after the other level. Which I will not link to. But what I should have done, or should do…I suspect that will continue to nag at me.
As someone who has been exceedingly vocal about his difficulties watching movies that show children in peril, I can totally get where this guy, Geoff, is coming from as he tries to watch the Dead Island game trailer. I’m a sensitive and protective father too. I can get past this if the filmmakers know what they’re doing, but I’m always going to be more uncomfortable watching something with a kid in danger than I was before I became a father.
I love this guy’s reaction–aside from the Polish slurs. Dude, lay off the Poles!–but it wasn’t my own. Is that because I’m father to a son? I doubt it. I think it has more to do with the fact that this is completely haunting and earned my appreciation, as hard as it is for me to watch. It is one of the most beautifully edited pieces of work I’ve seen in a long time. It’s heartbreaking. The image of the girl on her dad’s back will not soon leave me.
Still, I respect your reaction, brother. I’ve been there. Hope I can talk to you someday and let you know that while your Dad-ness forced you to miss beating Dead Rising 2, the Case West DLC is totally SFD.
“Never played as her before,” the anonymous person playing Sivir types.
“Me neither,” is my chat response. Meaning my champion, Ezreal.
“Me too,” types the dude playing Blitzcrank.
Solidarity. We have waited just north of ten minutes for this match to begin, and we are bonding before heading into the fray. Not with small talk either. We are revealing our little insecurities before heading into battle. I think this is a good sign.
Every now and again I’ll come across a level whose sole purpose is to share an element of design with the LBP2 community. Sometimes the creator does this to get some love (hearts, thumbs up) from the players. Sometimes this is done for the sole purpose of sharing something new, at least as far as I can tell. Today’s level, LBP2 Bounce Pads, seems to be the latter. Before you get through the starting gate a warning pops up announcing, “Please note this level is just a demonstration of bounce pads.” What follows is a pretty nifty demonstration. You bounce all around collecting bubbles and racing against a clock. In the screenshot above my sackbot is bouncing at hyper-speed between floor and ceiling pads. At the end of the level, you get another text bubble.
I allow this level to be copied so you can “object capture” the bounce pads. PLEASE DO NOT REPUBLISH MY CREATION!!! Thanks.
I can’t say I really understand what all that is about, as far as getting the difference between “object capture” and publishing the designer’s creation, because I have absolutely no understanding of how any of these creation tools work. But I like this sharing aspect, and I wonder if it is, indeed, just for the joy of sharing, or if there are pins or trophies involved. Doesn’t really matter. This was a cute little diversion either way. I’m just curious.
I’m also increasingly pleased with the fact that the creators of LPB2 decided to label the area where you experience these levels “Community”.
Community level designers in LBP2 can give details about the level in a little text bubble that appears as the level loads. Some folks take advantage of this by begging you to heart their level. Some folks simply describe what the player can expect, in whatever language. Some folks apologize:
Hello ! This is my first level so there are maybe some problems and it is maybe short but, please, be cool :] [Minimum 2 players]
I’m usually not a fan of artists opening with apologies. The thing about these community levels that I haven’t really mentioned before, though, is that they are all works in progress. Perpetually. It took me awhile to get hip to this. Having been burned by the Special Editions(tm), I’m not crazy about revisionist artistry. But here I’ve come to respect it, and even find my interest piqued by it. A couple of designers whose levels I’ve featured in Daily Little Big Planet 2 have contacted me to let me know they’ve tweaked the level and have asked me to give it another go. One time, as I was trying to figure out how to upload extra pictures, I saw a screen of the revisions one designer had been making to a level. It showed revisions leading up to a moment three minutes before. That designer was still working on the level and I’d finished with it hours before.
The community world in LBP2 is far more alive than I initially realized. There is fluidity here, and I find this exciting. The above quote, appearing in the details for the level It ‘s everyone destiny, is a perfect example of this. I find this level mesmerizing. It’s mysterious, and it’s got atmosphere–partly because of the haunting music–and because of that the fact that I’ve gotten stuck doesn’t bother me. The designer admits there are glitches here in the opening tags and in the above text. Cool. I like where you’re going…I’ll come back and give you more chances. Especially since I only now noticed, after playing your level a few times, that it requires more people than just me. My bad. Regardless, props for being honest about where you are.
I’m finding that what increasingly appeals to me in these community levels is an understanding of just that. I don’t necessarily need great gameplay in these levels. In fact, I’ve come to expect that I’m not going to get that. I run across clever moments in some of the levels, and that can be exciting, but the real draw in dipping into these levels is getting some random individual’s take on this world. A feel that I’ve landed someplace specific, with a texture or sound or sense of humor that reflects the designer’s sensibility in some way. Most of these folks can cleverly place a jump pad. It’s rare that one of them can make me lose time.
Today’s level, histoire mixe, did just that. I jumped in to sample a couple of levels before I had to head off to pick up my son from school. Before I knew it, thirty minutes had gone by and I had to hustle. Histoire mixe, made by Darkness-Thomas, achieves this in two main ways. One way is the depth of the background, which you can see in the screenshot above a little bit. That figure behind my sackbot is a garden gnome, over there to the left is a shovel resting against a fence, behind which fence you see the greenery of neighboring yards. The other way is through sound.
A lot of the levels use a fairly generic sound scheme. Random music or the seemingly ubiquitous–and annoyingly extraneous–buzzing of flies. At the start of this level you hear a buzzing. As you play you realize it’s a lawnmower in the distance. A neighbor is mowing his lawn. Other mechanical noises bully their way in, including, inexplicably, a helicopter, which I understand slightly when I realize the half-worded sign below me says, “Call of Duty” on it, followed by a helicopter full of sack soldiers. Why is this in the backyard? Can’t tell you. Does this matter to me? Nope. Because like a good short film, this level has a sense of place. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, and I couldn’t care less.
After yesterday’s somewhat harrowing helicopter ride, it was a relief to discover that today I got to ride a mouse. I think my sackbot is much more geared for mouse riding anyway, especially with mice as agreeable as those in this day’s level, Mousehole.
One of the joys of playing these community levels without having played the actual game itself so much is the discovery. Even when I get frustrated with a level design I find I’m only a little ways away from feeling a sense of wonder. I started this level and saw these mice floating at the top of the screen, right under me. They all had triangles over their heads, and I assumed this meant they had something to say to me so I ignored them and fell to the bottom of the screen. I couldn’t do much down there but be chased by a scrapbooky cat. I started over and this time pressed the triangle only to discover that this was not to get the mice to speak, but to activate them for riding. Now I could scoot all over the level, avoid the cat more easily (pictured), and even have the opportunity to drop into another level called Mousehole Reloaded (yes, there is also Mousehold Revolutions) where I could ride my mouse over to a jukebox and choose my tunes for the extra level.
The other side of not knowing what I’m doing is that I’m often confused by objects in these worlds. The prompt to drop grabinators and controlinators and otherinators always furrows my brow. Am I supposed to drop the object? What if I don’t? Is the game just being polite by giving me the option, or trying to tell me something? Am I being rude if I want to hold onto my grappling hook? Because that gives me comfort.
I suppose if I played more of the story I’d get a better understanding of these issues. I’ll get around to it. The discovery phase is too great to worry about that right now.
Bromance alert. If a frank discussion about why friends are so freaking awesome and why they are deserving of love is going to make you uncomfortable, you should probably leave the room. Imagine klaxons are sounding if you need an excuse. Tell your loved ones there’s an air-raid and hide under the dining room table. This is about to get real.
I have fallen for this game. Truly. This is not normal for me. I don’t fall for many games. In point of fact, I don’t play many games. I have fallen for this one. And I know, categorically, that I could not have done this on my own. I needed help. For this I am grateful.
Jane McGonigal, author, game designer, and futurist, has a column over at Huffington Post in which she informs us that playing video games will make us healthy, wealthy, and wise. But only if we restrict our playing to an hour a day. What’s more, a good game will not only make us more creative, optimistic, and goal oriented, it will also make up for what real life currently lacks.
The truth is this: in today’s society, computer and video games are fulfilling genuine human needs that the real world is currently unable to satisfy. Games are providing rewards that reality is not. They are teaching and inspiring and engaging us in ways that reality is not. They are bringing us together in ways that reality is not.
She’s written a book detailing actual scientific research into this so that gamers, and their parents, can look at gaming as preparation for life’s challenges, like curing cancer and ending world hunger. But those possibilities pale in comparison to the real breakthrough in her research.
And just 90 seconds of playing a game like World of Warcraft – where you have a powerful avatar – can boost the confidence of colleges students so much that for up to 24 hours later, they’re more likely to be successful taking a test at school… and more outgoing in real-world social situations.
Whoa! Great news for WoW players! You folks now only have to play for a minute and a half. Science has just given you your life back.
Read the post to find out how much gaming is too much and adjust your lives accordingly.
I flew a helicopter tonight. Yes, it was to no avail. The thing was impossible to control, and flying it did me no more good than running would have done. Or keeping my cool little jetpack on. But now I can say I’ve flown a helicopter in one of these levels. That’s never happened before. You know what else has never happened before? I’ve never gotten this direction from one of the creatures in a level:
“Kill those things.”
Whoa. I don’t recall seeing the word ‘kill’ in any part of LBP2 as yet. Maybe I just missed it. But it struck me here. True, the killing in this latest level, outbreak 1, consists entirely of firing what I think is a paint gun, but still, I was given the directive to kill. That caught me up short for a moment. My little sackbot is now a killer. I will have to take stock of that.
I’ll let you know when, and if, I get a machine gun.
Well this was unexpected. The real world just got its chocolate in my peanut butter.
I’m buzzing along, dipping into community levels with a sense of anticipation now that I’ve found one I really like. Today has been a little frustrating, because I’m getting a lot of duds. Usually I’ll find something to like, however small, in any level. Today…oy. Still, which each new Lucky Dip I feel a sense of hope. Then, out of the blue, the real world intrudes with a commercial. What?
Without really paying attention to the name of the level I drop into something called Prius_Stay Green and I find myself playing an entry in a contest where folks create a Prius level for a chance to win–wait for it–not a Prius. You win a television or some Playstation sports junk. The level is okay. It’s clearly a green theme, as you can see above with my little sackbot standing in front of some windmills. I also get him to water some compost and raise a solar panel. Hopefully by doing these things I’ve earned enough carbon credits to offset the power I’m using to play this game today. Eventually I run into a white Prius, which I meaninglessly drive through a dark city. Or something. It was hard to tell. I know advertisements are part of games. In a racing game this doesn’t really phase me. I expect to see billboards when I’m in a car cruising through a city. Here, on this little big planet, it is jarring. So I purposely chose a non-product picture for the top of this post. Just to grief Toyota, I’ve put the product pic after the jump.
After the jump, I say nyah, nyah, nyah to a car companyContinue reading →
I prefer to think of what I’m doing as playing hard-to-get, rather than labeling it as being cheap, but I’m probably fooling myself. Because there’s this girl I really like. I mean, I’m totally into her. Yes, she’s hot, but it’s more than that. We have a connection like…well…I don’t know if I can explain it. You know how you felt the first time you successfully executed a Zergling rush? Yeah, it’s kind of like that. Something clicks and you get it. I get her. She may be the one.
Plus, she’s easy.
After the jump, I try to get out of the hole I just dug for myselfContinue reading →
Look at him. Look at how happy he is. He’s beaming! I’m pretty happy too. I could sing some Gilbert and Sullivan, I’m so happy. I’m not going to. I don’t sing Gilbert and Sullivan because I find that stuff annoying, but since this level made me feel like the monarch of the sea, I could
Artifact Hunter. That’s today’s level. Excuse me while I sigh contendedly and say, it’s beautiful. Beautiful. It’s a simple platformer puzzle level. It’s all about triggering hidden chambers and finding treasures. Actually, no…that’s incorrect. The gameplay is about that, I suppose. For me this level is about texture and music. It just feels right to me. It’s not overly challenging, but it is evocative. Not in a profound way, but in a comforting way. Especially after some of the levels I’ve dipped into recently. Levels like this make me want to try out more of the story mode of the game (of which I have played little), and I find that a happy development.
There is one problem, though. Sadly it is significant. Happily, it’s probably me, and not the level. I can’t figure out the very end puzzle. The level, bless its heart, is doing its best to lead me in the proper direction, giving me those obvious camera hints that say, “Hey goofball! See this? You’re supposed to jump on this!” But I can’t figure it out. Maybe if I was conversant in platformer-ese I would get it instantly. But I keep getting stuck just before the very end, and having to do that little self-destruct thing. Thankfully there’s no awful sound associated with that action, like that horrific electrocution sound. Ugh.
This happened quite by accident. I hesitate to post about it because, well, I didn’t actually play the level. At all. I just landed in the middle of the action and watched it happen. And it was weird and disturbing and somehow touching. Poignant. I see myself returning to it. For now, however, I’m just letting this weird little experience sit.
In playing these daily levels, I’m using a selection called Lucky Dip, which basically throws me into a random community level. At the top of the Lucky Dip screen is something called “Dive In”. I didn’t know what that was, and I accidentally clicked it the other day. I was thrown into a multiplayer level in the world above. A place called sauvez willy!!. With no warning I found myself a spectator in a sackbot drama. The hapless sackbot above, with the terrified expression, was just dodging falling bits of household junk. Exploding appliances and other weird stuff. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t do anything but watch.
It was such a weird experience. I felt helpless, but completely drawn in. It’s weird how compelling these little creatures are. The expression on this little dude’s face, as he dodged for his life…it touched me. No, I didn’t play this level. It happened to me.
