Having finished Portal and played a bit of Portal 2, I'm finding that I'm feeling less abstracted in the second one. It may just be a matter of mood - perhaps I was especially pensive the day I played Portal.
That sounds reasonable, but honestly, I think it comes down to something in the games themselves. Portal 2 is a bigger game than Portal, and I don't mean just in size. Portal barely had a plot, and there were only two characters, one of whom didn't actually have any lines. And yet its spareness is also its greatest strength - Chell starts off as a lab rat, and everything about the game, from the sort of obstacles you face, to the simple design of the environment puts you in her shoes - you become a lab rat. Then, there's a plot twist halfway through, and you escape the maze and become an avenging badass, and aside from the changing tenor of GLaDOS' taunting, the entire story is told through the things you do.
Chell doesn't need dialogue declaiming her motives, because those are also your motives. You are driven to confront GLaDOS, to find a way out of the facility, to end the game, because the game has trained you to go forward no matter what. It's masterful.
In fact, I'd go farther than that, and say that playing Portal is one of life's perfect experiences, like listening to Beethoven's 9th or seeing the Grand Canyon. It's just something everyone should do at least once.
And therein lies the trouble. It's possible to go into it already aware of the reaction you're expected to have, and that can blunt the edge of the experience. In my more neurotic moments, I worry that might happen to me if I ever get the chance to visit the Grand Canyon - that I'll get so hung up on how I'm supposed to feel awe at its majestic beauty that I'll miss out on the grandeur of the actual thing.
I also worry that I might be doing some damage in going on this way about Portal. I mean, it absolutely lives up to the hype, but it's also true that there's no reason to think the hype will enhance the game (then, I remember that I'm writing an obscure blog that's read by, like, 20 people, none of whom are likely to be waiting on my recommendation to play the most celebrated game of the last decade).
Which is to say, that Portal made such a strong impression on me, that there was no way a second playthrough could escape the shadow of the first.
Portal 2 does not have that problem.
Don't get me wrong, Portal 2 is a great game in its own right. I have nothing bad to say about it. It's just that in terms of flustering internet commentators who are trying to compose blog posts as part of a hastily conceived personal resolution to play more video games, its bigness works against it.
Portal 2 is a sequel to Portal, and like many sequels, it aims to give its audience more of what they loved about the original. And Portal 2 delivers. GLaDOS is more hilariously cutting than ever. Aperture Science is even more bizarrely and selectively incompetent. The pitch-perfect learning curve that leads gradually yet inevitably into puzzles of devious complexity is everything you could hope it might be. Cave Johnson and Wheatly are brilliant comic inventions, perfectly keeping with the humor of the first game, while taking it to the next level.
Yet for all of the great additions (and to be clear, there is nothing in this game that I'd want to cut), Portal 2 feels crowded in a way that Portal did not. Portal 2 has spectacle. It has lush post-apocalyptic environments and thrilling chase sequences. It's crammed with things to watch or to listen to. And that blunts the nostalgia a bit. Playing through a second time, I'm noticing things I missed the first time, and being reminded of things I forgot over the years. I have to say, because of this, I'm finding it more immersive than the original Portal.
Does that mean Portal 2 holds up better than its predecessor? That's a difficult question, and probably not an entirely fair one. Replaying the first Portal felt like walking through a memory because my first time through left an intense and indelible impression, and it did that because it was a masterpiece. Replaying Portal 2 is a bit more engaging and directly satisfying because it is a very, very good game.
Conclusion: playing both is worth my time.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Portal and Portal 2 - 2.5/20 hours
I'll try and make this quick - After 2 hours and 23 minutes, I finished Portal, and I have to ask myself "did I make the right choice combining it with Portal 2?" What it comes down to is, do I believe I could have reasonably played through this game nine more times in a row?
Probably, I could have. It may may even have made for an interesting series of blog posts. Still, I think I made the right choice. Going straight into Portal 2 doesn't quite have the novelty of unnecessarily repeating the original Portal, but I'll probably enjoy it more.
Probably, I could have. It may may even have made for an interesting series of blog posts. Still, I think I made the right choice. Going straight into Portal 2 doesn't quite have the novelty of unnecessarily repeating the original Portal, but I'll probably enjoy it more.
Portal and Portal 2 - 1.5/20 hours
You can only have a single first time.
After an hour and a half playing Portal, I find myself in a surprisingly melancholy mood, and I think it's because I can only have a single first time. Nostalgia has not exaggerated this game in the slightest - the controls are as flawless, the puzzles are as clever, and GLaDOS is as wickedly over-the-top as I remember . . . but there's something missing.
The first time I played this game, it punched me in the gut. I remember coming to the gradual and hilarious realization that the funny robot with the gentle sing-song-y voice did not have my best interests at heart. I remember wracking my brain trying to detangle the more devious chambers, and the flood of relief and pride when I finally figured them out. I remember the bleakness and isolation of the abandoned testing facility, and how it felt to be successfully manipulated into caring about the companion cube.
This time, though, it's different. It's like I'm playing the game at a remove. Like I'm not really experiencing the game, and more like I'm walking through a cherished memory. It's been 3-4 years since I last played this game, but everything about it has come back to me almost instantly. I'm at the point where you learn that GLaDOS's offer of baked goods may have been somewhat disingenuous, and none of the first 19 chambers has so much as slowed me down.
Everything is exactly as I remember it, but it's just not the same.
That's not a complaint, by the way, except in so far as it is a complaint about the slow yet inevitable unwinding of my youth. You cannot go back. You only get one chance to play Portal for the first time. It was a sublime experience, but it is in the past now. All that's left is a memory.
But, as memories go, it's one of the best.
After an hour and a half playing Portal, I find myself in a surprisingly melancholy mood, and I think it's because I can only have a single first time. Nostalgia has not exaggerated this game in the slightest - the controls are as flawless, the puzzles are as clever, and GLaDOS is as wickedly over-the-top as I remember . . . but there's something missing.
The first time I played this game, it punched me in the gut. I remember coming to the gradual and hilarious realization that the funny robot with the gentle sing-song-y voice did not have my best interests at heart. I remember wracking my brain trying to detangle the more devious chambers, and the flood of relief and pride when I finally figured them out. I remember the bleakness and isolation of the abandoned testing facility, and how it felt to be successfully manipulated into caring about the companion cube.
This time, though, it's different. It's like I'm playing the game at a remove. Like I'm not really experiencing the game, and more like I'm walking through a cherished memory. It's been 3-4 years since I last played this game, but everything about it has come back to me almost instantly. I'm at the point where you learn that GLaDOS's offer of baked goods may have been somewhat disingenuous, and none of the first 19 chambers has so much as slowed me down.
Everything is exactly as I remember it, but it's just not the same.
That's not a complaint, by the way, except in so far as it is a complaint about the slow yet inevitable unwinding of my youth. You cannot go back. You only get one chance to play Portal for the first time. It was a sublime experience, but it is in the past now. All that's left is a memory.
But, as memories go, it's one of the best.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Portal and Portal 2 - Initial Thoughts
About the Game (From the Steam Store Page)
Previous Play Time
0 hours (combined)
What Was I Thinking when I Bought This?
A friend loaned me the Orange Box, so I could play Portal, and I rented Portal 2. I enjoyed both of them, and had been intending to buy them, so when I saw the bundle for 5$ on Steam, I couldn't pass it up.
Prior Experience
I've played through both of the games' main storylines on the console, but haven't done any challenges or co-op. That's why I decided to combine them into a single entry. I know for a fact they're pretty short, and while I could probably spend 20-hours on each, I really have nothing to prove here. They're a great couple of games that I've previously enjoyed, but haven't had the chance to experience on the PC.
Expectations
I'm certain that I will sail through the story-mode and then have a blast with challenges and/or co-op. It may well take me a bit more than 20 hours to get through everything I want to get through, but since I already know that these are a wonderful couple of games that entirely deserve their towering reputation, I am greatly looking forward to playing them.
Portal™ is a new single player game from Valve. Set in the mysterious Aperture Science Laboratories, Portal has been called one of the most innovative new games on the horizon and will offer gamers hours of unique gameplay.
The game is designed to change the way players approach, manipulate, and surmise the possibilities in a given environment; similar to how Half-Life® 2's Gravity Gun innovated new ways to leverage an object in any given situation.
Players must solve physical puzzles and challenges by opening portals to maneuvering objects, and themselves, through space.
___________________________________________________________
Portal 2 draws from the award-winning formula of innovative gameplay, story, and music that earned the original Portal over 70 industry accolades and created a cult following.
The single-player portion of Portal 2 introduces a cast of dynamic new characters, a host of fresh puzzle elements, and a much larger set of devious test chambers. Players will explore never-before-seen areas of the Aperture Science Labs and be reunited with GLaDOS, the occasionally murderous computer companion who guided them through the original game.
The game’s two-player cooperative mode features its own entirely separate campaign with a unique story, test chambers, and two new player characters. This new mode forces players to reconsider everything they thought they knew about portals. Success will require them to not just act cooperatively, but to think cooperatively.
The single-player portion of Portal 2 introduces a cast of dynamic new characters, a host of fresh puzzle elements, and a much larger set of devious test chambers. Players will explore never-before-seen areas of the Aperture Science Labs and be reunited with GLaDOS, the occasionally murderous computer companion who guided them through the original game.
The game’s two-player cooperative mode features its own entirely separate campaign with a unique story, test chambers, and two new player characters. This new mode forces players to reconsider everything they thought they knew about portals. Success will require them to not just act cooperatively, but to think cooperatively.
Previous Play Time
0 hours (combined)
What Was I Thinking when I Bought This?
A friend loaned me the Orange Box, so I could play Portal, and I rented Portal 2. I enjoyed both of them, and had been intending to buy them, so when I saw the bundle for 5$ on Steam, I couldn't pass it up.
Prior Experience
I've played through both of the games' main storylines on the console, but haven't done any challenges or co-op. That's why I decided to combine them into a single entry. I know for a fact they're pretty short, and while I could probably spend 20-hours on each, I really have nothing to prove here. They're a great couple of games that I've previously enjoyed, but haven't had the chance to experience on the PC.
Expectations
I'm certain that I will sail through the story-mode and then have a blast with challenges and/or co-op. It may well take me a bit more than 20 hours to get through everything I want to get through, but since I already know that these are a wonderful couple of games that entirely deserve their towering reputation, I am greatly looking forward to playing them.
Gettysburg: Armored Warfare - 20/20 hours
For the last few hours, I didn't really play the game as intended. In the game's Steam forum, the dev gave me a console command (need_a_ride) that would spawn a couple of cars. For some reason, the cars had 3000 hp (as much as a tank), and belonged to a third "neutral" factions. This made them virtually invincible to infantry, and because they are neither Union and Confederate, they will kill any unit on contact. So, what I wound up doing is creating my own game mode - "The psychotic SUV that changed the course of history."
The rules of PSCCH mode are fairly simple - I set the ticket count to 5000, so that there are a maximum of 100 troop deaths possible before the game ends (each time an infantry unit dies in Deathmatch mode, it deducts 100 points from its team's ticket count), then I would set the available units to "1860s" only (for "historical accuracy"), and my goal was to run over as many troops as possible before the time ran out. This was fairly hilarious, as when you hit an enemy going full speed in a vehicle, they simply . . . explode. There's no other way to describe it. You run into an enemy, and then BAM, viscera's flying everywhere. My high score in PSCCH is 55.
I did that for about four hours. If you want to quibble about it, I did not, in my last hour, technically "play" the game. I was a little curious about some of the game's underlying mechanics, so what I did was start up Deathmatch mode, and then decline to jump into a character. I wanted to see what the troops would do without a human intervening. I ran 10 consecutive 5000 point games on the Gettysburg map and watched how they played out (and while I didn't touch the controls, I was in front of my computer the whole time, my only distraction the same podcast I was listening to while playing PSCCH). I can't make any definite conclusions about how the game works, but I think that the winner is mostly random, perhaps with a bias towards the union. While I was watching, the Union won 7/10 games, but that is not suspiciously more than what might occur through random chance.
Of course, it's possible that it was merely the Gettysburg map that favored the union. If I wanted to be entirely sure, I would run the same experiment on the other four maps, yet I'm certain that nobody cares.
Looking back on this experience, I can't help but reflect on the nature of gaming as a hobby. Gettysburg: Armored Warfare was a somewhat frustrating 20-hour journey, primarily because I had no over-arching goals, and no way to track or measure my progress. Each battle was self-contained, and after it was over, the experience existed only as a memory. I couldn't even grind for Achievements.
But the weird thing is, that is how all gaming used to be. When I grew up, I had an Atari 2600 (I'm not that old, but they were once ubiquitous in yard sales), and every single game for that system was the definition of ephemera. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I even got to play a game with a save function. In fact, playing Gettysburg, I often thought of a particular Atari game called Warlords. Warlords was not a particularly good game, even for its era. You could barely even call it 2-D (It was played with the paddle controller, which only had left/right movement, so it was more of a 1-D game). And yet, I loved that game.
Gettysburg: Armored Warfare is not especially similar to Warlords, except in the sense that both are driven by their own specific sort of competition, and don't really have all that much to offer outside of their main activity. In fact, one could make the argument that, aside from Warlords' admirable clarity of purpose (a necessity for anything on the Atari 2600), Gettysburg is in every way the superior game. So, why did I struggle with it so much?
When I chose the url for this blog, "decadentgamer," I was mostly being flippant, but underlying the joke is a serious anxiety - I sometimes feel like I'm surrounded by this amazing technology that I am simultaneously losing the ability to appreciate. I have this amazing Steam library, and yet half of them I've barely touched. I sometimes wonder if I am, in fact, becoming blind to all the wonders this amazing hobby has to offer.
When I was 12, every video game was precious. If someone had told me that I would one day have so many games (including some that are considered timeless classics) that I'd lose interest in playing them, well, at best, I wouldn't have believed them, and at worst, it would have made me very angry. If that same person then allowed me to play Gettysburg: Armored Warfare, I'd have just about died. I would have gasped in wonder at how incredible everything looked, and marveled at the scope and ambition of the game (an action game where you can direct the tactics of your allies! a strategy game that lets you take control of your grunts! tanks! airships! boats!).
This is not a "darned kids these days" speech. My 12-year-old self was not the most sophisticated consumer, and, frankly when you compare Gettysburg to Skyrim, or Starcraft, or Mass Effect 3, it really does fall short, but failing to reach such exalted company is no great failing. I'm just reminded of a different way of relating to games. I chose my 20-hour deadline, because that is around the time that most of my favorite single-player campaigns started wrapping up, but that's not how games have always been played. I think that if I'd played Gettysburg in one-hour bursts, over the course of a year, I'd have gotten to 20 hours with scarcely any trouble at all.
Gettysburg will never be considered a classic, but it's more than just a "bad" game to be dismissed. Playing it put me in touch with an older way. It forced me to once again think of "a video game" as something precious, and of my time playing as something to be jealously exploited. In made me think about what my 12-year-old self would have considered wondrous and exciting. And while I will probably never revisit it, I am nonetheless grateful for this experience.
The rules of PSCCH mode are fairly simple - I set the ticket count to 5000, so that there are a maximum of 100 troop deaths possible before the game ends (each time an infantry unit dies in Deathmatch mode, it deducts 100 points from its team's ticket count), then I would set the available units to "1860s" only (for "historical accuracy"), and my goal was to run over as many troops as possible before the time ran out. This was fairly hilarious, as when you hit an enemy going full speed in a vehicle, they simply . . . explode. There's no other way to describe it. You run into an enemy, and then BAM, viscera's flying everywhere. My high score in PSCCH is 55.
I did that for about four hours. If you want to quibble about it, I did not, in my last hour, technically "play" the game. I was a little curious about some of the game's underlying mechanics, so what I did was start up Deathmatch mode, and then decline to jump into a character. I wanted to see what the troops would do without a human intervening. I ran 10 consecutive 5000 point games on the Gettysburg map and watched how they played out (and while I didn't touch the controls, I was in front of my computer the whole time, my only distraction the same podcast I was listening to while playing PSCCH). I can't make any definite conclusions about how the game works, but I think that the winner is mostly random, perhaps with a bias towards the union. While I was watching, the Union won 7/10 games, but that is not suspiciously more than what might occur through random chance.
Of course, it's possible that it was merely the Gettysburg map that favored the union. If I wanted to be entirely sure, I would run the same experiment on the other four maps, yet I'm certain that nobody cares.
Looking back on this experience, I can't help but reflect on the nature of gaming as a hobby. Gettysburg: Armored Warfare was a somewhat frustrating 20-hour journey, primarily because I had no over-arching goals, and no way to track or measure my progress. Each battle was self-contained, and after it was over, the experience existed only as a memory. I couldn't even grind for Achievements.
But the weird thing is, that is how all gaming used to be. When I grew up, I had an Atari 2600 (I'm not that old, but they were once ubiquitous in yard sales), and every single game for that system was the definition of ephemera. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I even got to play a game with a save function. In fact, playing Gettysburg, I often thought of a particular Atari game called Warlords. Warlords was not a particularly good game, even for its era. You could barely even call it 2-D (It was played with the paddle controller, which only had left/right movement, so it was more of a 1-D game). And yet, I loved that game.
Gettysburg: Armored Warfare is not especially similar to Warlords, except in the sense that both are driven by their own specific sort of competition, and don't really have all that much to offer outside of their main activity. In fact, one could make the argument that, aside from Warlords' admirable clarity of purpose (a necessity for anything on the Atari 2600), Gettysburg is in every way the superior game. So, why did I struggle with it so much?
When I chose the url for this blog, "decadentgamer," I was mostly being flippant, but underlying the joke is a serious anxiety - I sometimes feel like I'm surrounded by this amazing technology that I am simultaneously losing the ability to appreciate. I have this amazing Steam library, and yet half of them I've barely touched. I sometimes wonder if I am, in fact, becoming blind to all the wonders this amazing hobby has to offer.
When I was 12, every video game was precious. If someone had told me that I would one day have so many games (including some that are considered timeless classics) that I'd lose interest in playing them, well, at best, I wouldn't have believed them, and at worst, it would have made me very angry. If that same person then allowed me to play Gettysburg: Armored Warfare, I'd have just about died. I would have gasped in wonder at how incredible everything looked, and marveled at the scope and ambition of the game (an action game where you can direct the tactics of your allies! a strategy game that lets you take control of your grunts! tanks! airships! boats!).
This is not a "darned kids these days" speech. My 12-year-old self was not the most sophisticated consumer, and, frankly when you compare Gettysburg to Skyrim, or Starcraft, or Mass Effect 3, it really does fall short, but failing to reach such exalted company is no great failing. I'm just reminded of a different way of relating to games. I chose my 20-hour deadline, because that is around the time that most of my favorite single-player campaigns started wrapping up, but that's not how games have always been played. I think that if I'd played Gettysburg in one-hour bursts, over the course of a year, I'd have gotten to 20 hours with scarcely any trouble at all.
Gettysburg will never be considered a classic, but it's more than just a "bad" game to be dismissed. Playing it put me in touch with an older way. It forced me to once again think of "a video game" as something precious, and of my time playing as something to be jealously exploited. In made me think about what my 12-year-old self would have considered wondrous and exciting. And while I will probably never revisit it, I am nonetheless grateful for this experience.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
The General Plan for Challenges
When I got my first couple of challenge games, I thought for sure that I could just power through them and then get back to the "real" project. I now realize that was a naive belief. Playing a game with no plot or internal goals and unpolished mechanics is surprisingly exhausting. I wouldn't have thought so initially. I actually thought that even a bad game would be diverting compared to, say, staring at a wall for 20 hours.
I'm not sure I believe that any more.
So, I will alternate between challenge games and my regular steam library games. The exception is that I will try and play series of games back-to-back. I'll go down to the challenge list in the order the games were received, and down the library list in alphabetical order (but I'm willing to take requests, if any of my readers have a particular game they want to see).
I think this plan will lead me to complete my goal as quickly as possible.
I'm not sure I believe that any more.
So, I will alternate between challenge games and my regular steam library games. The exception is that I will try and play series of games back-to-back. I'll go down to the challenge list in the order the games were received, and down the library list in alphabetical order (but I'm willing to take requests, if any of my readers have a particular game they want to see).
I think this plan will lead me to complete my goal as quickly as possible.
Gettysburg: Armored Warfare - 15/20 hours
The airship has a maximum speed of 69 mph. By traveling at 60 mph, I was able to make the following observations:
The Gettysburg map is approximately 4.5 miles x 4.5 miles
Infantry travels at approximate 12.5 mph
Horses travel between 25-30 mph (I couldn't get a more precise reading because I accidentally rode off the edge of the map when I was about 85% through the trip, and I wasn't about to spend the 20 minutes of riding through empty fields to double-check my measurements).
Here is what the edge of the map looks like:
Going off the edge will kill you.
The above fact is the easiest way to destroy enemy ships.
Only five more hours to go. I think I'm going to make it.
The Gettysburg map is approximately 4.5 miles x 4.5 miles
Infantry travels at approximate 12.5 mph
Horses travel between 25-30 mph (I couldn't get a more precise reading because I accidentally rode off the edge of the map when I was about 85% through the trip, and I wasn't about to spend the 20 minutes of riding through empty fields to double-check my measurements).
Here is what the edge of the map looks like:
Going off the edge will kill you.
The above fact is the easiest way to destroy enemy ships.
Only five more hours to go. I think I'm going to make it.
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