I confess I had initial misgivings about a first-person shooter involving zombies. While, from a shooter-game-design perspective, it provides perfect premise sense for an inexhaustible supply of hostile cannon fodder, I wasn’t all that excited about mowing down the shambling, decaying undead. I suppose it stemmed from my childhood distaste of zombies in general, what with my father being a fan of movies like Re-Animator and George Romero’s classics. And no, I still have not seen the more recent films like 28 Days/Weeks Later, or even Shaun of the Dead. Yes, I know. I’ll watch them soon, especially now that I’ve gotten hooked on Left 4 Dead.

But I get ahead of myself. It was Oneal’s prompting that finally got me to try out L4D for the PC when Steam had a free-activation weekend. I was impressed enough by the game that I went ahead and bought it (on 40% sale that weekend, yay), firmly establishing my presence on Steam.

I like L4D because of its jump-in-and-go implementation of game launching, which has streamlined the back-end of the multiplayer FPS experience into a very sleek and robust system. This is the most hassle-free design I’ve ever seen in terms of getting random people to play together, and I marvel at how easily you can get right into the thick of things. It’s a well-implemented FPS, too. And games like this have been in my blood since the days of classic Wolfenstein 3D.

I’ll talk more about it later on. For now, work beckons, but I am happy to report that blowing the heads off of zombie hordes is a great stress-buster.

Aquaria is the story of a young aquatic girl named Naija, and how she discovers and comes to terms with the world she inhabits. It is a visual and aural feast that combines beautiful artwork with an evocative soundtrack, wrapped around a narrative that is pleasantly rich in familiar fantasy tropes and social commentary.

I fell in love with this game from the moment I came across its launch trailer back in 2007. The visuals, the music and the atmosphere drew me in, and I waited impatiently for the proper release to come out. When I finally did get the chance to play it, I adored it even more. Something about the way it conveyed its world and story struck a chord in me, and I was caught up in a quiet giddiness that only the most appealing games draw me into.

I was further impressed by how the game itself was made by only two people: Alec Holowka and Derek Yu, under the Bit Blot banner. They made everything themselves, from the story and programming to the graphics and music. They had no creative staff working with or under them, and no other trappings of a gaming design company. The only other person involved in the project was Jenna Sharpe, who provided the voice for the game’s lonely, restless protagonist. The whole endeavor had a romantic feel to it, and that deepened my appreciation of the game.

The interface is both novel and effective for a 2D scrolling adventure, and I am still in awe of how the essentially simple control scheme allows for satisfying complexity. Naija has a full range of movement as she swims through the game world, and her abilities come from she sings the notes of the Verse: the underlying harmony of everything that is. She can manipulate her being and the world around her through her songs, which are combinations of notes that are easily strung together through a compass-style ring. The entire game can be played with just the mouse, although keyboard shortcuts are also available.

One of the most evocative things about underwater vistas is the richness of life and landscape, and in this respect Aquaria definitely does not disappoint. As you explore the vast game world, countless unique touches can be found amidst the varied flora and fauna. You come across saltwater denizens of all shapes and sizes, many of which would likely be very familiar to oceanographers and marine biology enthusiasts. Alec and Derek really did their research, and it shows in the game’s creature population density and attention to detail. Very often I find myself coasting along, leaving the main plot alone for a while and just seeing the sights. It’s not a sandbox world, but it’s definitely one that invites exploration and aimless wandering.

I’ve clocked in around ten hours of gameplay, and the game still feels as compelling to me now as it did when I first started out. I’ll write more about the experience after I complete the game, which will hopefully not be too soon. There’s a lot of the world still left unexplored, and I like sustaining the sense of mystery and wonder.

I went ice skating with Shey yesterday, and it was loads of loud, silly fun. I hadn’t been on the ice in over a decade, but I felt confident that I could at least not fall on my ass right away. I asked Shey to go skating a couple of weeks back because I knew she’d always wanted to, and yesterday was when our schedules finally lined up after Holy Week.

We spent our first lap around the rink mostly glued to the support railing. It was faintly embarrassing, but we both soldiered on and refused to give up. Shey had never been on the ice before, and she was alternately exhilarated and mortified. We complained constantly at our initial discomfort and lack of skill, muttering curses every other minute, hoping that the children sailing gracefully past us wouldn’t pick up our, ah, colorful vocabulary.

After one circuit, though, I decided to try pushing our comfort zone out a bit more. Hell, we’re adults! It’s unbecoming to scoot about in constant fear while kids a third of our age were gallivanting around us without a care. I let go of the railing altogether, and kept insisting to Shey that she should also try to maneuver without it. I told her that the ice away from the edges was smoother and easier to handle, which was true. I told her that she could trust in the ice to not give her a hard time if she just relaxes. At first she didn’t want to because she was still having trouble getting her balance and forward movement right, but eventually she agreed to leave the railing.

I held on to her as we took a few more circuits around the rink, each time getting progressively braver and moving further away from the edges. We were by no means moving with grace or panache, but we were definitely moving! Every step (slide? skate?) of the way, we were ranting and talking about how still-difficult-yet-satisfying it was becoming. I think the increasing leg pain we had added to our frustration, haha. We still muttered curses under our breath, but as we made more progress, we cursed less and rejoiced more. Eventually we even cut across the rink in the middle areas, which was very satisfying (given how we started out totally afraid and unbalanced).

We took a couple of breaks to rest our feet during our session, and I got my camera at one point so that we’d have photographic proof that she did manage to get on the ice. We really wanted to keep going, but the pain was beginning to overwhelm the joy, so we decided to just skate some more another day. And hey, we didn’t fall! Not once!

Shey’s post, and the rest of the photos, are here.

[Minor spoilers present.]

Monsters VS Aliens takes a cue from the insufferable series of parody films that have been plaguing Hollywood cinema over the past decade, putting together a mishmash of pop culture references involving, well, monsters and aliens. And the military. It doesn’t fall into the usual pit of inanity and self-deprecating slapstick that smorgasbord parody films usually reside in, though. Instead, it puts together a story with sincerely amusing and inventive situations that have become the baseline for animated films today.

The creators borrowed heavily from both old-school B-movie sci-fi films and contemporary fare, and did so unapologetically. What’s interesting about how they brought everything together is the way they managed to poke fun at the now-familiar tropes without coming across as insulting to the source material. The movie feels, in terms of its individual aspects and as a whole, more like a homage than a roast, which is a very welcome outcome for its openly parodic premises.

Any animated feature worth the money spent on it these days should cater not just to the natural audience of youngsters, but to adults as well. MVA does this splendidly, with countless inside jokes, from the subtle (a quick bar of the ET theme while the camera focuses on a missile that has “ET Go Home” painted on it) to the obvious (the musical exchange from Close Encounters of the Third Kind segueing to the “Axel F” theme from Beverly Hills Cop), alongside the straightforward, non-joke cross-media references (Insectosaurus as a permutation of classic Godzilla, B.O.B. as a spinoff of The Blob, and so on) . There’s plenty about the movie that can make a kid laugh and enjoy himself as it is, but for adults there’s a lot more, bringing nostalgia and wit to the table.

The stellar cast of voice talents was awe-inspiring, with very familiar names from all over the popular media spectrum, from television to feature films. To their credit, their distinctive voices didn’t overshadow their performances. They just felt right, which is what any good animated feature voice talent should aspire to. I did have a little trouble not seeing Seth Rogen in my head whenever B.O.B. spoke, but then that’s probably because I just saw Zack and Miri Make a Porno the other week. Hugh Laurie’s voice as Dr. Cockroach was very reminiscent of his more theatrical performances back in Blackadder, and Kiefer Sutherland was pleasantly surprising as the voice of General W. R. Monger.

If you are any sort of sci-fi monster alien pop culture fan movie-watching person, you should see this one. I’d say it’s an IMAX must-see, but it’s pretty satisfying already on standard screens. It’s all sorts of fun and fancy, and thoroughly entertaining regardless of your individual film preferences.

Rating for NewWorlds.ph: 5 out of 5 Green Jell-Os

After rereading my prior post and going over my friends’ replies, I am certain now that it wasn’t my freelance writing that got me into this rut. It’s not even specifically what’s keeping me stuck anymore: it’s just the paradigm that my writing mind has been defaulting to for lack of any other options.

The reason why I ran out of options is, well, I chose to.

Back in the first quarter of 2008, I went through a crisis that left me with a great deal of disappointment and disenchantment. As I tried to come to terms with what happened, I retreated into myself. I pulled away from my regular crowd at the time, and I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself and a very select few. I needed to gather my wits and recover my sense of self-worth, because they were effectively mangled by what I went through.

Over the course of 2008, I did manage to heal and move forward. My freelance work picked up, as did my social life. What I didn’t get to restore, however, was  my willingness to open up in my writing and in terms of my online presence. This blog went dead for most of 2008, as did my Facebook account. I’d add to my Multiply account on occasion, mostly photos from the social events I’d go to, but not anything of narrative or expository substance.

I understand with better clarity that I have been consciously maintaining a certain perspective for these past months: stay quiet, don’t bother, keep everything low-key. We all go through cycles where we are very open and sociable one day, and then quiet the next, but my cycle got stuck. I chose to stay closed off instead of trying to break out of the shell I had put myself in. The healing process I started had become a harming process by virtue of the reclusive habits I had developed.

The first quarter of 2009 hasn’t been very kind to me, and I’ve been feeling the desire yet again to just close up shop. It’s really tempting. But the more I think about it (at leat when I’m not exhausted or otherwise in a dark mood), the less sense it makes to me to just clam up again. What would the point be? What would I stand to gain by running away, metaphorically or otherwise?

Back in 2008, I did have something to gain by closing up: withdrawal from the situation that hurt me, so that my wounds could heal. In 2009, though, with my own voiceless writing adding to the stress I’m working through, I think closing up again is a bad idea. I’d just eat myself alive, confining myself to my own thoughts and feelings, not learning anything new other than ways to wallow and be depressed.

Enough.

I’m tired of feeling bad, and I’m tired of feeling reclusive. I need new things in my life. New experiences, new joys, new sensibilities. I’ve already started revising the way I do things in person; it’s about time I carried the impetus over into my writing.