More Star Wars Trivia for Kids

On Friday I wrote about being asked to prepare some Star Wars trivia questions for a group of youngsters as part of a larger Star Wars-themed event. I'm pleased to report that everyone seemed to have fun—we had a good range of participants, from the anticipated Star Wars mega-experts to the kids who'd barely even heard of Star Wars at all.

I was impressed by many of the answers...and amused by just as many. A few gems:

Me: "How did the duel between Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Maul end?"
Child: "Darth Maul got cut in half!"
Me: "Very good! What did he get cut in half with?" (To this, I was simply expecting, "a lightsaber.")
Child: "He got cut in half by Qui-Gon's lightsaber, wielded by Obi-Wan, who knocked him into the big pit." (Impressive. But you are not a Jedi yet. How about this one...?)

Me: "What do Nute Gunray, Lott Dod, and Rune Haako have in common?"
Child: "They're all Star Wars characters!" (Very good. An excellent start. I was going for, "They're all the same race—Neimoidans, to be specific," or, "They're all members of the Trade Federation." I'm proud to report that someone did answer with the former, although I would have also settled for, "They all have funny hats.")

Me: "What is a wupiupi?" (The correct answer is money—specifically, a unit of currency mentioned in Episode I when Jar-Jar is eating things in the marketplace.)
Parent: "It's a cushion! (Yes. A wupiupi cushion.)

Me: "Who was TK-421, and why wasn't he at his post?" (As I'm sure we all remember, TK-421 was one of the poor Stormtroopers who got knocked out by Luke and Han on the Death Star when they were in need of disguises.)
First Child: "He was dead!"
Me: "Great! Tell me more. Who was TK-421, and why wasn't he at his post?"
Second Child: "He was...a little robot. And...he...um..."
Me: "Actually, he wasn't a robot, but you can keep going if you want to."
Second Child: "...he...um...and he got stuck in traffic!"

Fantastic.

Star Wars Trivia for Kids

I have been tasked with creating a series of Star Wars trivia questions to fill about 15-20 minutes with some youngsters. Now, I have enough experience to know what kinds of general trivia questions do and don't work well with the younglings, but Star Wars trivia? That's a bantha of a different color.

Why, when I was still barely taller than an Ewok, I could've named a half-dozen classes of Star Trek starships, told you exactly how many bars of health Mega Man started out with, and quoted half of Michael Winslow's lines (and sound effects) in Police Academy. Never underestimate the geek capacity of a child.

At the same time, never overestimate the geek capacity of a child.

It's difficult to tell what, exactly, this generation of Star Wars fans knows. From the diehard who built her own lightsaber, right down to the newcomer who thinks a Star Destroyer is a scathing news report on TMZ, the difference between what passes for general and esoteric Star Wars knowledge has shifted from when I was a kid, and it's all because of the prequels and The Clone Wars spinoff movie and TV show.

I say this without conducting any kind of formal research, mind you. However, the kids for whom I'm writing these trivia questions grew up when Darth Maul action figures were all over the shelves, Samuel L. Jackson was known primarily as the guy who played Mace Windu, and "wesa no liken" passed for acceptable English. Now they're watching a computer-generated Anakin Skywalker be the hero every week, and reading about Kit Fisto and Plo Koon in their comic books. Of course their knowledge of Star Wars is going to be different from mine at that age.

So, I'm playing it safe: I've got the dork-heavy questions like "What do Nute Gunray, Lott Dod, and Rune Haako have in common?" as well as the questions that every fan should know, like "True/False: Han shot first." (Obviously, it depends on which version you're watching. Obviously.)

May the Force be with me.

Sunday Spotlight: Gurren Lagann

I've seen a number of anime series that build and build toward a satisfying climax, only to go totally weird in the last two episodes and ruin everything. I've seen shows that hold my attention for a while before steadily becoming less interesting as time goes on. Gurren Lagann introduced to me a new category of anime that falls short somewhere: shows that are totally rad except for a string of episodes in the middle that make you very, very angry.

Gurren Lagann is the first anime series I've seen that plays out like an ongoing D&D campaign: characters of humble origin are driven together by chance and circumstance; they embark on a grand adventure against increasingly impossible odds, becoming stronger and more heroic along the way; and no matter whether they achieve victory or taste bitter defeat, the story continues and new adventures arise as a direct result of what the heroes have been through. It's almost like four different series starring most of the same characters, fit neatly into the span of 27 episodes.

You've got Kamina, the irrepressibly and even foolishly gung-ho leader of the group. There's Simon, the cowardly digger who unearths the Gunmen (note the intentional pun on Gundam) called Lagann that sets their adventure into motion. You meet Yoko, the sharpshooter with a heart so warm that she barely needs any clothing to keep out the cold (that clothing restricts her movement is the completely reasonable rationalization given for her skimpy attire).

Along the way, the group meets up with a host of other characters, who range from a fabulous technology wizard, to a quartet of black-clad siblings, to a crewman whose only function is to excitedly press buttons, to a heroically comedic pig mole. They pick up team members from a sheltered, impoverished village just as easily as from the enemy palace. The team is even able to capture enemy Gunmen, changing their situation from being oppressed humans living underground to being powerful humans who roam freely across Earth's surface in their giant mechs.

Gurren Lagann is just as much a show about the characters as it is a show about big robots smashing up other big robots. At times it's a tongue-in-cheek parody, and at other times it's a serious and heartfelt tale of these characters fighting against fate, but more than anything else it's just plain fun. Gonzo action sequences, creative character designs, larger-than-life friends and foes, and smile-inducing dialogue make for a show that is just plain entertaining. The fact the characters are real characters who grow and change through their experiences, and whose actions directly impact the direction of the story, gives the show depth and a meaningful weight that's often absent in action-heavy anime.

That's why I got angry at Gurren Lagann: Following the conclusion of the major story arc that comprises more than half the series, we fast-forward to a point in the story that destroys both the fun and the meaning by having a few key characters shut off their brains to manufacture the conflict of the next story arc.

My wife and I have been watching the first season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and we've been noticing an unfortunate trend: everything is going well until one character shuts off his or her brain, triggering an unnecessary conflict that gives the characters involved a reason to fight, get captured, and/or die pointlessly. Conflict is not flowing naturally from the circumstances--it's more like the writers want to have a big battle between some clone troopers and the local aliens, so they introduce a character supposedly on the side of the good guys whose only goal in life is to kill all the local aliens. The writers have him shut off his brain when people try to reason with him, and have everyone else shut off their brains when he orders them to stop talking and kill the local aliens. This results in the viewer hating the character driving the conflict and calling everyone else an idiot, effectively severing any real investment he or she had in the episode. At least, if this viewer is like me.

My anger toward Gurren Lagann--like my distaste for the last several episodes of The Clone Wars--is not directed so much at the conflicts themselves as it is toward the presentation of those conflicts. Don't allow the viewer to get so angry at the avoidable situations and boneheaded characters that they begin to hate the show itself--temper the viewer's temper with a reason to pity or sympathize with the boneheaded characters, or forgo the emotional investment in people and places that'll make it hurt more when bad things happen to them.

There's a string of five consecutive episodes in Gurren Lagann where several of the heroes are turned into villains, either in the eyes of the viewer or in the eyes of their comrades. After fifteen episodes of natural story progression and logical character interactions, bad things just happen. Characters go off the deep end in pursuit of their beliefs, people stop thinking rationally about the actions and motives of other characters, and the writers--in true Dungeon Master fashion--develop the romantic relationships between characters just enough to be used against them.

If you ask my wife, she'll tell you that everything terrible that happens here is because of how the characters' histories and personalities are shaping their interactions with others and affecting their ability to adapt to their new situation. I don't entirely disagree. The problem is that the writers fail to show the viewer any of the humanizing factors that put these characters' actions into context until too late in the story.

It's one gut punch after another as the characters you once cared for are villanized and their world falls apart...but there's no glimmer of hope that things will get better; no feel-good successes in the face of disaster; no flickers of remorse from the offending parties; nothing to suggest that the good guys who think they're doing the right thing really are doing the right thing. I simply stopped caring at one point--let their world fall apart, because I'd rather see it burn than suffer through another half-dozen episodes of unchecked angst and despair.

By the end of the series, most of the events that had made me angry had been softened with further explanation and perspective, but that doesn't change my drastically unfavorable reaction to the episodes where all I could see were manufactured conflicts and emotionally manipulative situations. Did Gurren Lagann redeem itself? Yes. Once they finally started acting like heroes again, the show quickly went from bearable to downright fun once more. The sour taste in my mouth persists only because of how much I like everything surrounding that string of infuriating and disheartening episodes--Clone Wars is disappointing when it resorts to artificial conflict, but the show so far hasn't done enough to invest me in the characters and raise my expectations of the writing to make it feel like all that much of a letdown.

Overall, Gurren Lagann is one of the most entertaining anime series I've seen in a while, with at least one or two of the best action sequences I've ever had the pleasure of watching in an anime. There are great, memorable characters and a dynamic story that becomes almost absurd in its scope, though delightfully so. Even with my complaints against the way the second major story arc was handled (and your feelings on the matter certainly may vary, as my wife can attest to), I respect the show for its ability to continually build on itself without overstaying its welcome or losing track of its roots. It's a good series that comes recommended to any anime fan, and first-timers with no prior exposure to anime are all but guaranteed to find something they like, whether it's comedy or plot continuity or big robots punching each other with drills.

As a side note, viewers in search of fan service a more complete Gurren Lagann experience should be advised that the English dub of Episode 6, the infamous hot springs episode, is considerably different from the original Japanese cut. It's a near-mandatory anime tradition to have an episode (frequently the sixth one, for some reason) take place at a hot spring, opening the door for scantily clad shenanigans in even the most serious and conservative series. Gurren Lagann is no exception, but the censors obscured some of the racier content with fog clouds, and excised the rest of it altogether, replacing it instead with a clever-but-obtrusive recap of the first five episodes.

As a result, the story feels somewhat disjointed, and most of the humor of the episode is lost, along with some worthwhile character development and even a little foreshadowing. The uncut and subtitled Japanese version is out there for free on the Internet if you poke around a bit, and there are plenty of synopses that go over the version differences if you'd prefer to pass on watching/rewatching the episode with its questionable content intact.

Anypigmole, that's Gurren Lagann for you.

[Images from gurrenlagann.wikia.com and Wookieepedia.]

In Which Greedo May Possibly Be Allowed to Shoot First

Whenever the age-old Star Wars vs. Star Trek argument comes up, I try to stay out of it. They've both got their high points, they've both got their low points, and it's difficult to judge something that started as a movie against something that started on television. Despite any similarities they may have, Star Wars and Star Trek are simply too different and too vast for both franchises in their entirety to compete on the basis of merit.

The argument boils down to personal preference of the creative details--Tatooine vs. Ceti Alpha V; phasers vs. blasters; Bothans vs....uh...Bothans--and preference between breadth and depth. In my experience, Star Wars has more breadth thanks to its wide variety of aliens and eons of internal history; Star Trek's focus on character interactions and social issues gives it more depth. I prefer Star Trek for its depth, and for the planets, technologies, cultures, etc. that are more in line with my tastes...but there are huge portions of both franchises to which I've never been exposed, so I can't say with any true certainty that the issue of breadth vs. depth is really what the argument boils down to.

Especially after reading Heir to the Empire.

As discussed yesterday, Heir opened my eyes to a level of complexity in the greater Star Wars universe that was largely absent from my experience with the franchise. The movies, television episodes, games, and books with which I'm familiar all have their share of plot twists and clever heroics, but I've always perceived the story to be what drives the characters, and I prefer the characters to drive the story--another matter of personal preference, I might note.

Luke Skywalker joins the Rebellion because two droids literally fall out of the sky and effectively drag him along through a series of events largely outside his control. The Battle of Hoth occurs because the Imperials happen to find the Rebels' hidden base. Kyle Katarn has to muck around in the bowels of Nar Shaddaa because the data disk he needs accidentally gets knocked off the landing platform when he shoots off 8t88's arm. Clone Troopers easily kill Aayla Secura because she happens to be looking the wrong way when Order 66 is given. So often in Star Wars, things just...happen. The characters are merely along for the ride, doing little more than nudging their destiny one way or another.

To a certain extent, the characters are driven by the plot in Heir to the Empire. The key difference, though, is that every character has well-defined goals and motives that drive him or her to fight against the flow of fate. Some are in better positions than others to succeed, but virtually nothing ever happens--or fails to happen--strictly because the story dictates it must be so. Author Timothy Zahn knows the characters extraordinarily well, and ensures they use every tool, trick, and ability at their disposal before succumbing to the inevitable, or before claiming victory over impossible odds.

I find myself invested in the Star Wars movies because I like the action sequences, and some of the aesthetics, and some of the characters, and some of the creative situations in which the heroes find themselves. I found myself invested in Heir to the Empire for all those same reasons, but I found myself in awe because these characters and their universe were living up to a potential I didn't realize existed.

You think of an X-Wing as just another snub fighter until its guts are willfully burned out and ripped apart to escape a tractor beam and set up an improvised homing beacon. You assume that a Jedi is the most powerful force in the galaxy until a little furry snake creature puts his Force powers on mute. You take for granted that Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine are the baddest of the bad until criticisms from an Imperial officer and obvious contrasts with the increasingly sinister Grand Admiral Thrawn start to make you think that maybe the Rebellion had it easy. The book takes what already exists and goes to lightspeed with it.

This must be why Star Wars fans harbor such ire for the prequels--knowing what's out there, and what could be out there, makes a goofy Gungan who accidentally saves the day seem like a slap in the face. And that's to say nothing about the breaches in continuity that I've heard exist. For me, the prequels have the same kind of action and aesthetics and characters and creative situations that I like about the original trilogy. As films, they're not anywhere near as well-directed and well-scripted as the originals, but as Star Wars films, I'm getting all the sci-fi fun I could hope for.

That's what Star Wars has been for me: sci-fi fun. That is why I've steered away from those venomous Star Wars vs. Star Trek debates. That is why the rage against George Lucas over the prequels and the Special Editions has always baffled me. Dislike and disappointment, sure--but rage? I've seen a lot of passionate fans, and I've gotten up in arms about one thing or another ruining my favorite fandoms, but I have seen Star Wars turn people into irrational zealots who would hurl you into the Great Pit of Carkoon if you so much as suggested that it was maybe not beyond the realm of possibility that Greedo could potentially have shot first, you guess.

My childhood wasn't shaped by Star Wars. My adolescence wasn't spent immersing myself in the Expanded Universe. My adulthood hasn't been spent hiding or picking up the wreckage from the brand-new canon George Lucas has pointed at his fans. I watched the Star Wars films, and I liked them. I've tried out different parts of the fandom, and I've liked them too. It's been a matter of personal preference--nothing more, nothing less.

Heir to the Empire changed everything. I've read other books of comparable quality, and I've been exposed to other installments of Star Wars that have been just as captivating, but I'd never seen Star Wars as anything other than a collection of events that dragged along some interesting characters. For the first time ever, I understood both the heroes and villains as people, not just as archetypes or sci-fi characters.

Characters can never grow beyond their role as entertainment. People can become your family and friends.

Without my understanding this, the most diehard Star Wars fans became irrational zealot characters in my eyes when defending the people they cared so deeply about. Those debates were never about franchises; they were about friends. It's taken me a decade to realize this.

I don't know that I'll ever fully turn to the Dark Side (the Light Side?) and embrace Star Wars over Star Trek, but there is plenty of room in my heart for both. I've got a Dark Force Rising paperback on the table, a Clone Wars disc in the DVD player, and a Rogue Squadron cartridge in my N64. I am a Star Wars fan. That may not mean the same thing to me as it does to you, but I hope we can both come to understand each other as people before making judgments on the differences.

Exfanded Universe

There are only three movies I can recall (willingly) seeing in the theaters more than twice: The Matrix Reloaded, Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones, and Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. This should tell you something about my taste in movies. "Yeah, that you've got terrible taste in movies," you might be thinking. At a glance, to the average fan who loved The Matrix and the original Star Wars trilogy (and hated everything after them), that's exactly how it may appear. To Grand Admiral Thrawn, however, it might seem more likely that I had enough spare cash during the first half of the aughts to indulge in the pleasure of repeatedly watching a few of my new favorite big action sequences and big explosions on the big screen.

Up until three weeks ago, I had no idea who Grand Admiral Thrawn was.

I've been a Star Wars fan for years. I've marathoned all six movies in the prequel trilogy and original trilogy. I've seen the Clone Wars animated film, I'm more than halfway through the first season of the spinoff TV series, and I've watched the previous (and, in my opinion, superior) animated TV series as well. I've played Shadows of the Empire and Episode I: Racer and LEGO Star Wars 1-2. I like the Rogue Squadron video game series, love the Jedi Knight computer game series, and have spent more time with Knights of the Old Republic I & II than any other RPG in the post-SNES era. I own posters from the six main films, a handful of Star Wars trade paperback comics, about a dozen different toy lightsabers, about as many Star Wars PEZ dispensers, and nearly the entire line of Galoob Star Wars Micro Machines (and a fair number from their larger Action Fleet line, too). The list could go on, but I think it's clear that I am, in fact, a fan of Star Wars new and old, in all its forms.

Yet liking the prequels and being over the age of five seems to disqualify me from being a legitimate Star Wars fan.

I always marveled at how people could claim to be Star Wars fans when Return of the Jedi received such criticism for being different from Empire Strikes Back, and when people outright refuse to acknowledge the existence of the prequels. Liking only two, maybe three of the six films that form the canonical basis for your fandom doesn't seem to make you much of a fan. I never minded too much when someone said they liked the original trilogy and not the prequels, but it was incomprehensible to me that I might be considered less of a Star Wars fan for liking something produced by the man who created it!

It wasn't until three weeks ago that my heresy began to make sense.

Early last year I'd picked up Timothy Zahn's Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, and The Last Command, the three Star Wars books from the early '90s collectively known as the Thrawn trilogy. I'd read a few Star Wars books before--Tales of the Bounty Hunters, Shadows of the Empire (after playing the video game), the Han Solo trilogy, and possibly one or two other novels that have slipped my mind. While they were entertaining, and helped satisfy my curiosity about this Expanded Universe that Star Wars fans are always talking about, that was about the extent of their influence on me.

Heir to the Empire--the officially sanctioned continuation of the Star Wars saga--was where I first realized how little I understood about diehard Star Wars fans.

Strictly in terms of style--at least, as far as I've read--Timothy Zahn's writing favors function over form, providing only as much information the reader needs to adequately picture the action (with a few descriptions and turns of phrase here and there to add extra flavor, such as time being measured in "a pair of heartbeats"). What is most striking about Zahn's writing is how he seems to truly understand the characters, the Star Wars universe, and how the characters interact with the universe and each other.

I fell in love with Star Trek because of the characters, the universe, and how the characters interact with the universe and each other.

The moment that connection clicked with me was the moment I began to realize that being a Star Wars fan really isn't about the movies at all. The Expanded Universe isn't just an extension of the core fandom--it is the core fandom.

Suddenly, those big action sequences and big explosions on the big screen seemed like a pretty silly reason not to be disappointed by the prequels.

But that's a discussion for Saturday.

Lost in the Archives

I'm not sure if you ever do this, but I find myself getting caught up in extraneous research sometimes when writing. It'll start off with a quick date confirmation on Wikipedia, or a peek at a previous post or article I've written to ensure continuity and prevent unnecessary repetition. Then my productivity grinds to a halt. Such was the case when I went back through the Exfanding archives to find posts I should link to when discussing my recent resurgence of interest in Star Wars.

Instead of trying to condense my thoughts into a short blurb before my lunch break ends, I'm going to use today as a chance for longtime readers to have a refresher and new readers to have a first glimpse of my (often unpopular) opinions about this fandom I claim to like. The links below are to three different posts I've written about Star Wars that showcase the kind of thinking I tend to do about both the prequels and the original trilogy. These should provide some worthwhile background for later in the week, when I plan to discuss my experiences with the Star Wars novels and video games, focusing on one book in particular that's allowed me to finally understand why disdain for the prequels runs so deep.

On that note, please allow me to link to three posts that are really more even-handed than their titles suggest:

- Sorry, I Like the Prequels Better

- Repairing Star Wars

- What If the Empire Never Struck Back?

*waves hand* This is not the post you were looking for...

Today's post was written by your favourite blog sidekick, Neko-chan. This was supposed to be a detailed account of her and Nathaniel's adventure to see L'arc~en~Ciel perform at Madison Square Garden, a long-overdue guest post; however, due to Neko-chan being a lazy over-sleeping slacker, this will instead be a short spotlight about the anime series "To."

Friday was Star Wars Day ("May the Fourth be with you"), and I decided I wanted to do more than just wear a licensed t-shirt to celebrate. I have seen the movies countless times, and didn't feel like watching them again on my own (Nathaniel was away on a fishing trip), so instead I kept with the "sci-fi spirit" of the holiday and curled up with a different space-themed show from our Netflix queue, "To."

Released in 2009 by Avex, and directed by Fumihiko SORI (who also did "Vexille" and the latest version of "Appleseed"), the anime series "To" is comprised of two 40-minute episodes set within the backdrop of outer space. The opening music by Tetsuya Takahashi is reminiscent of Yoko Kanno's "Ghost in the Shell," electronica with tribal-ethereal female voices, and the animation is completely computer-generated. I was especially impressed by the cg for the space station and the environments, it was some of the most realistic-looking design work I had ever seen, but something about the cg for the characters was a bit off-putting. It was like a cross between the rotoscoped-over actors of "Waking Life" and a very pretty video game cutscene. Furthermore, unlike the generically beautiful 18-25 year old characters in most anime, "To" actually attempts to bring in a bit of realism by giving its characters wrinkles and other signs of aging and individuality, however the animation still has a "painted" quality to it, so the result was that they looked more like well-sculpted dolls than people, and the juxtaposition of the figures against hyper-realistic backgrounds actually makes them seem even more photoshopped and unrealistic than they would have otherwise.

Both episodes are set in the same world, however there is no cross-over between the characters, and it is difficult to say how they relate to each other in terms of timeline. The first episode centers around Dan, the captain of a space station that acts as the main supply line of goods between earth and its moon colony (the whole station is designed as a cannon that shoots supply crates through space), and Maria, the leader of a deep-space mining operation who has just returned to earth after a 15 year expedition and is stopping at the station to repair and refuel before delivering her cargo of extremely valuable proton energy.

This episode touches on a variety of space-related subjects including earth vs. colony tensions, space terrorism, space exploration and ownership rights, and with how human relationships have adapted to the conditions of space travel (truly long-distance relationships, crew polyamory, and age gaps due to cryofreezing). I was intrigued by the world that was portrayed, however my one problem with this episode was the English translation. It was a bit confusing as to what the nature of the relationship was supposed to be between Dan and Maria, and I actually had to Google it afterwards to understand exactly what the flashbacks and insinuations had meant. 

*SPOILER*
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They first make it appear as if Maria is Dan's wife who left him and his son, however in actuality she is his mother who abandoned him to seek her own dreams. She left earth 45 years ago on the first of three 15-year expeditions. Each time she finishes an excursion she stops back by earth to catch up with Dan, so it has been 15 years since they have last spoken. During that time, the earth has been plunged into war, his son has died in the fighting, and his wife has passed on, but Maria has been traveling in cryofreeze for most of that time and has missed these events. She has only aged a total of 6 years since she first left earth.



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*End Spoiler* 

The second episode is much more straightforward, complete, and cohesive than the first. It involves mediation talks between two colonies on a survey planet, the Eurasian colony and the European-American colony, who are fighting over resources and terraforming rights on the planet's surface. It does a good job of showing how national feuds don't end at the border to space, but are carried on within the prejudices of the people. As one character states "Humans can start a war anywhere."

This episode also raises some interesting points about alien life forms: What constitutes sentient life? Do humans have the right to terraform without considering the local ecosystems? Is it irresponsible to destroy something before understanding whether it is truly a threat? Do humans really have a lasting impact on the worlds they contact?

Woven throughout this story is a subplot of lovers caught on opposite sides of the conflict. Additionally, there is an overarching theme of "symbiotic versus parasitic relationships" that carries throughout the episode, and which ties all of the events together. I liked that there was no wasted exposition, everything that is introduced comes back full circle at the end - a bit predictably and heavy-handed perhaps, but in the same way that a short campfire story might be.

Overall, I give "To" 8 wookies out of 10. I enjoyed the visuals, even despite the figure-background disconnect. I enjoyed the soundtrack. The voice-acting was some of the best dubbing I have heard in a long time. I enjoyed that these episodes made me think about the issues that were raised, and that this OVA reminded me of longer anime series such as Planetes, or of book series such as the Mars Trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson, both of which deal with the socio-political aspects of space travel and colonization in a semi-realistic manner. Also, in looking up more information about the show, I learned that this was based on a 10-volume Japanese comic book series called "2001 Nights" written by Yukinobu Hoshino, a comic book series that Nathaniel just happened to pick up last year, and which is just sitting on our bookshelves waiting for me to read.

So whether you are an anime fan, a cg fan, or a comic book fan, I recommend taking a chance on this show. It is short and doesn't require a huge time investment, and it is available on Netflix or DVD, so you have no excuse not to exfand your horizons.

The Accidental Death of a Nerd

Today we have the pleasure of introducing our first-time guest poster Marcus, an ex-hobbit who I'm fairly certain was last last seen chucking potatoes at passersby from atop a tall building. At least, that's what I recall from one of our previous tabletop roleplaying sessions together.

"Dungeons & Dragons," they called it. I had never heard of it, but after recently moving across the country and seeing my first opportunity to have friends outside of school, I happily agreed to come over that night and try their game. That was fourteen years ago, and now here we are: the same people, the same table, the same DM, and the same chainmail and lightning bolts; but somehow it doesn't feel the same. Then the realization hits me, and I lean over to the guy who in those fourteen years has come to be my closest friend, whispering, "dude...I don't think I'm a nerd anymore."

I'm not sure when, or how, it ended. I definitely can mark the first time I sat down at that table as the moment when it began; my passage through the wardrobe and into the realm of nerddom, a place in my life now so foreign to me I can hardly believe was ever real.

I had been playing video games since my friend got an NES when we were six, but there was nothing to indicate that I would later put two years of my life into WoW raiding. I was an avid reader and enjoyed The Lord of the Rings, but I had countless other books I considered to be of unquestionably higher caliber. My interest in school and learning was non-existent, and I was happier playing sports. Unusual interest in dark humor aside, I was about as average a kid as you can imagine.

But something did happen, beginning with that first D&D campaign, those first friends I made after the move: I came to define myself by which genres of games I preferred, I saw red when Trekkies called Star Wars derivative, and I began to shun any but the most necessary physical activity and threw myself into school; my curiosity about understanding the natural world was only matched by my fascination with imaginary ones. Perhaps most tellingly, I discovered the label 'nerd'--and it fit me perfectly.

Those of you whom I met in college likely knew me through shared interests in anime, pen-and-paper RPGs, and late night video-gaming. Each of these, in turn, has fallen by the wayside as I come closer to a time when I can no longer call myself "in my mid-twenties." I had been vaguely aware of the changes, although my continuing Steam account suggests an attempt to cling to the identity I once had. Once, I played video games to relax, to enjoy my free time; now I play them when I have nothing else to do, which is sadly too rare. My love of games--while still present--is no longer a significant part of my life. That's what I realized, sitting at that table; "nerd" was a title I simply could no longer ascribe to myself.

Like its rival sibling "geek," "nerd" has become decidedly less of a pejorative in recent years. Reading, video games, favoring brains over brawn or looks, traits once used to distinguish myself from the popular kids, are now more commonly accepted and even admired. This phenomenon, this mainstream geekiness, I unquestionably recognize as a positive development. Children should never be shamed for their interests, and the notion that school was a place where you could be mocked for intelligence should have been sending off alarms through our society decades ago.

But at the same time, I cannot accept this shift in attitudes coinciding with my own loss of identity as a nerd as coincidence. It is something that I credit--albiet, through grit teeth and clenched jaw - in large part to J.K. Rowling. Those same children who sat at the best lunch tables and shunned us for our interest in playing at elves and wizards found joy in putting on robes, waving sticks, and shouting mangled Latin at one another--and while I wish them all the best in it, as this culture has merged into the mainstream, I've felt myself moving away from it. That night at the table, when I found myself thoroughly nonplussed by the choice between fighter, mage, or thief, I came to accept that this was no longer me.

Given that my identity as a nerd was so tied to my circle of friends, I do suspect that some part of my ultimate rejection of the label can be traced to a transition of setting. Once I left school I was forced, for a time, to work whatever jobs I could to pay the bills, and in these jobs I found myself (as always) surrounded by people with interests different than my own. But that this was no longer school was clear, and the determinants of popularity lay in doing your job well and getting along with people whose best interest is to get along with you. We even all wore the same clothes; it was an absolute reversal of what I understood about being a part of society in school. In this new social scene popularity still did matter, but the paths to it were vastly different than the old ways of high school. Slowly, I began to socialize with and befriend people I would have shunned--or, more honestly speaking, would have shunned me--ten years ago, and in my proximity to a broader variety of less-than-nerdy interests, some of them began to rub off on me.

Labels aside, I found an interest or fond childhood memory that might be described as nerdy in a person that otherwise would seem out of place at a LAN party, but in this I began to be aware of my own changes. In the end, I think this is what became of me. The clear line in the sand between who was and who was not a nerd has been scuffed out in recent years, and we are instead left with a hazier sliding scale on which the vast majority of our peers register at least a few nerdy tendencies.

As for myself, there are still many nerdy things I hold dear but there is a common trend throughout them: they are all old (or older, anyway). The last game I seriously played was WoW; and the last console I owned an N64, but I will quite confidently assert that Chrono Trigger is quantifiably superior to any game released in the past fifteen years. I tried to play Skyrim recently; it fell flat. But man, did I have some good times in Morrowind. Final Fantasy III* was brilliant--rolling around the D-pad into a Bum Rush is 95% of what I remember of fifth grade--but I honestly think VII is a dull plod through a morass of repetitive battles and boring characters.

*Serious Final Fantasy fans know it as VI. People who waited til their parents were in bed to sneak out and play all night when it first came out know it as III.

The difference? Chrono Trigger, Morrowind, and FFIII all came out when I was playing video games. I had an itch in my brain for new worlds, and they were the ones to scratch it. Objectively speaking, I know that there is no way to weigh their merits against Modern Call of Special Ops 6, and I know that there are millions of youths out there whose imaginations will be sparked by the pace, the intensity, and the multiplayer connectivity of the latter. But me? I just don't get it. My point, in so many words, is that there are games---and other things--that are special to me, not because they are games but because they are *my* games. There was a time when video games played a huge role in my life, and while they no longer do, the effects of that time and of those particular games continue.

None of this is to disparage or denigrate anyone who does still call themselves a nerd (hipster bandwagoners aside). To those of you who have kept the faith over the years, you have my admiration, and envy. Even now, as I find new joys and new pursuits, none of them ever excite me the way a new Zelda game did. Never has my imagination been so stirred as by the promise of new, exciting worlds behind each turn of the page and every roll of the dice. Nor have I yet clung to any label or identity so fiercely as I once did to "nerd." Whether it was something in me that developed new interests over the years, or the redefining of the term, I must come to terms that the nerd in me is gone; I'm now simply another average guy with average interests.

But I still hate Star Trek.

The Bark Side

With the Super Bowl fast approaching, advertisers everywhere are working overtime to prep those wonderful, wonderful commercials.

And because everything is over-the-top crazy these days, some companies have taken to releasing previews for their upcoming Super Bowl spots.

That's right--like movie trailers, only for commercials.

Insane? Sure. But at least we get things like this, from Volkswagen. It's called "The Bark Side" and, well, I'm posting it today just because.

Enjoy, and Happy Sunday.

Total Studs and Total Duds: A Review of the LEGO Movie Games

Today's post comes from none other than returning guest writer Neko-chan, who is also engaged to half of the writers of this blog.

As readers will know, Nathaniel and I have been playing through the various LEGO Movie games as a couple. Now, LEGOs are something that he and I both cherish. We both have our respective collections, we both get excited every time we pass by a LEGO store, and he even proposed with LEGOs, so of course we were going to buy and play through each LEGO video game together, especially since these games are based around some of our most-loved fandoms.

To date, we have completed Star Wars I+II, slogged through all of Indiana Jones, and have played a few hours' worth of Batman. You would think that each game would improve upon the last, keeping the things that worked, and touching up the things what needed fixing, but unfortunately that has not been the case.


LEGO Star Wars I+II

Plot: Broken into two sagas (on the GameCube; combined into one complete saga on the Wii), the Star Wars games follow a condensed and oh-my-gosh-kids-can’t-see-violence-let’s-make-it-funny-instead version of each movie from the original epic through the less-than-satisfying third prequel.

Characters: Fans get to play as all of their favorite characters, and even the secondary characters are unique and interesting to look at. Sure, there are a few more Stormtroopers than necessary, but the fact you can play as a Jedi with force powers, an evil Sith Lord, a crossbow-shooting Wookiee, a bomb-throwing bounty hunter, or a robot that can fly, totally makes up for any extraneous characters. You can also use the character editor to customize your own character using costume parts and weapons from any character you have unlocked thus far.

Gameplay: This is a very family-friendly game. Level designs are just interesting enough to offer multiple pathways, exploration, and a decent challenge, but not so confusing that you are often at a loss for where to go. Aside from the usual running around and attacking enemies, there are simple puzzles, a little bit of minor platform jumping, some swerve-and-dodge podracing scenes, and a few chances to blow up starships with other starships. As you play, you can attack plants and other destructible background items to earn “studs” (coins), which can be spent to unlock characters, hints, and game modifications that either make playing the game easier or sillier.

Most moderately-okay gamers should have no problems with the difficulty level, and even the worst players can join in and have fun. You are granted infinite lives, so if your character dies you just respawn in place, losing nothing but studs and pride. Also, the game gives hints in the form of arrows if you are unsure what to do with a particular object you have picked up.

As with all of the LEGO Movie games, there are two modes–“Story Mode” and “Free Play.” In story mode, you get humorous cut-scenes, and can only play through levels with the characters indigenous to that scenario. In Free Play mode, you can replay through levels with characters of your choosing in order to unlock secrets and bonus areas that were inaccessible, or that you missed, on the first playthrough. In effect, this gives you infinite “do-overs” and the ability to keep racking up in-game currency, so eventually players of any skill level will be able to beat the game, having unlocked and collected every secret.

The game is allegedly designed for two-players. Certain puzzles need two characters to simultaneously pull switches or attack targets, and certain boss battles require cooperative strategies to win. Both players have independent control of their characters, so each player has the free ability to attack, interact with objects, or collect studs. However, due to screen limitations, the characters can only run so far apart. This means that if one player decides to explore the far side of the screen, and the other is standing on a platform, the second character will be dragged along and most likely fall into a pit of despair.

Also, the camera angles on two-player mode are awful. For certain levels, the camera is not only skewed, but is zoomed out so far that it is almost impossible to accurately judge platform edges or to distinguish objects from one another. Players must alternately drop in and out of one-player mode to zoom the camera far enough in for detail, and for many sections of the game it is simply easier for the second player to drop out entirely.

Gimmicks: In these games, each character has a specific weapon or ability; for instance, some characters can use Force powers, and others can high-jump or use specialty weapons or computer terminals. The abilities are built-in and inherent to that type of character. Certain secrets require a specific ability to unlock, so if you see a control console in story mode, and don’t have a droid in your party, you know you will have to come back later in free play to get in.

There are also hat disguises that you can get from random hat dispensers, which allow you to sneak through enemy territory and bypass checkpoints. In Free Play mode you will have characters that are automatically equipped with these disguises, but in story mode it can be a pain because a single hit from an enemy removes the disguise, and then you have to wander halfway back through the level to re-equip one.

Bonuses: There are numerous secrets to unlock as you play and replay through levels. Some secrets involve unlocking game modifications, some unlock bonus missions or cut-scenes, and some are merely for fun or decoration. There is a percentage counter that lets you know how much of the game you have unlocked, and you can see at the start of each level which bonuses you have yet to clear. Almost every secret is worth going for, and the rewards you get, either in awesomeness or in laughs, are proportional to the effort you put in.


LEGO Indiana Jones

Plot: I don’t know many American children who didn’t at one point run around the house pretending to be Indiana Jones. He is an iconic figure, and I was super-excited for this game to come out, if only for the chance to play as him and destroy everything on the screen with a whip. However, this game somehow managed to capture the events of the movies while removing any sense of excitement or adventure.

Characters: There are really only a handful of characters in the game. Besides Indy, Short Round, Sallah, Indy’s dad, the female love interest du jour, and the guy with the yak on his head, every other character in the game was a generic thug, a generic thuggee, a guy in a uniform, or a screaming female. There were far more palette-swaps than original characters, and it wasn’t worth raising the in-game currency to unlock them, as they did not add any new abilities or visual interest.

Gameplay: This game had the same problems with camera angles that the first games had, and compounded those issues with non-coherent level pathways that made it difficult to figure out not only where we were supposed to go, but how to get from point A to point B in the first place. This game was also heavily glitched, crashing at random points that caused you to lose an entire level’s worth of gameplay, having places where you could literally fall of the map of the level or fall into areas you shouldn’t have been able to get to...and then there was the infamous “elephant drop.” [Editor's note: Don't ask.]

Additionally, certain sections popped you directly into a cut-scene if your timing was off, making it nearly impossible to collect a few of the secrets. Furthermore, a couple of the boss battles are illogical to the point where Nathaniel and I had to use a walkthrough to figure out what in tarnation we were supposed to be doing. Moreover, it was difficult to determine which of the secrets we could get in story mode, and which we would have to go back and get in free play, because it so often looked like we should be able to make a jump or get to an area when in fact the bounding boxes made it impossible. Finally, this is a poorly designed game that will result in fights and one of you sleeping on the couch.

Gimmicks: LEGO Indy uses a tool system. A character can carry one tool at a time, and certain characters are always equipped with a specific tool such as a wrench or a shovel. During story mode, you must bribe monkeys with bananas in exchange for tools, and sometimes you will find a tool randomly on the ground; however, whatever tool you procure will not be necessary until more than halfway through the level, so if you accidentally drop it, or decide to take your chances by picking up a different tool instead, you must then run all the way back to the beginning to get another one, but most of the time it is no longer available and you are out of luck. Free Play is more tolerable because you can choose to have the proper tool-bearer with you if you know in advance which tool the level requires.

They also added torches, which usually burn themselves out in-between when you pick one up and when you find what you are supposed to use it on, so you have to go back and wait for the flame to respawn. This is a joyful process in battles than require fire, especially when you try to throw your torch and miss.

Oh, and they kept the hat system, but took away the dispensers, because a whole level built around scrambling through piles of random drops that disappear within 10 seconds of hitting the ground is fun.

Bonuses: Most of the useful bonuses require you to beat story mode, go back through each level in free play, find a random block, run to and fro through the level looking for a hidden postal box, mail the block, complete the level, run back to the in-game store, realize you don’t have enough money to unlock it, and cry. Almost all of the other bonuses are not worth getting. There are a few cameos that make you pine for the first two games, there is one cameo that is just strange (and glitched), and the bonus missions are simply not fun to the point that we gave up on achieving 100% completion.

LEGO Batman

Plot: Seeing as there is so much source material to draw from, this game does not seem to be following any particular movie, TV plot, or comic, but rather is extrapolating a plot in accordance with the spirit of the characters and the setting of Gotham.

Characters: You play as Batman and Robin. If you play far enough, you can unlock a few of the villains, but otherwise, you play as Batman and Robin. This should feel limiting, but somehow it wouldn’t feel right to play as anyone else. [Editor's note: Except Batgirl! Maybe we haven't met her yet.]

Gameplay: The camera angles continue to be a problem, and in fact, I think they got worse. Also, the designers made each level dark and foggy to fit in with the feel and aesthetic of Gotham, which is nice in theory, but makes it less playable when you are trying to see the edge of a tiny platform stretching between rooftops. However, this game seems to be easier and more straightforward than the first three as far as level design paths and boss battles go, and ::cross our fingers:: so far it has not been glitchy. It is also really fun and satisfying to wave the Wiimote around and Batarang everything on the screen, which I guess makes up for not being able to see what you are Bataranging.

Gimmicks: Instead of special abilities or tools, Batman and Robin have special suits. Scattered throughout the levels are teleporter platforms that allow you to switch suits, gaining new abilities like gliding, tech panel control, magnetic metal-walking, and janitorial dustbustering. Most of them are fun, and it is incredibly obvious where you are supposed to use each one, but Robin’s dustbuster suit can be annoying when you have to backtrack through the level picking up random blocks, and then backtrack even further to find the machine to dump them into, so you can then build a vehicle that you have to ride halfway across the level with, just to unlock one secret.

We have not unlocked all of the villains yet, but it seems like each one has some sort of ability related to their superpowers, as is to be expected. The Riddler is actually quite fun to play as because they gave him Yoda’s staff-physics in addition to mind-control powers. Good times.

Bonuses: It seems as if there are almost too many things to simultaneously unlock. I’m not sure what the rewards will be for our efforts, but so far we have unlocked a few bonus missions, have access to the villains’ lair, have a couple of less-than-but-not-equal-to-good game modifications, and have picked up a couple of different suits and vehicles. We have also collected a few different styles of LEGO minikit components, but at this point it remains to see what they will build.


Right now, LEGO Star Wars I+II are still reigning supreme. We genuinely had fun on each and every level, despite some bad camera angles. LEGO Indiana Jones had some enjoyable moments strung together by many moments of pain and frustration and boredom, but I’m still glad we stuck with it and gave it a chance, even if it didn’t really deserve one. LEGO Batman is shaping up to be mindlessly fun in that, “I want to satisfyingly smash something after a long day” kind of way, but it doesn’t have the presence or the atmosphere that Star Wars did. I think that is part of it.

As much as LEGO Indy and LEGO Batman try, neither one has really captured the feel of being in the world of its subject, neither one fully engages the imagination. Hopefully we’ll have better luck with LEGO Harry Potter, LEGO Pirates of the Caribbean, and LEGO Star Wars: The Clone Wars, but it seems the more I play through LEGO Batman, the more I want to go back and replay the Star Wars I+II.

Unreasonable Expectations

It's easy to forget sometimes that there's a real person behind every original creation. Art museums don't spontaneously spawn paintings. Books don't magically turn into movies of their own accord. Music doesn't come into being of its own volition. Yet we fans are often so fixated on the creative content of our favorite fandoms that we have certain expectations of the creators that would be unreasonable to apply to anyone we know personally.

Example: I make videos for YouTube at a pace that is intolerably slow by Internet standards. While others churn out videos on a weekly or daily basis, I can barely produce ten minutes of footage in a month anymore. My subscribers frequently comment on the high quality of my work, and many say each video is worth the wait, so evidently the wait time between videos is not the most important factor in one's enjoyment of what I do. However, occasional comments lead me to believe that some people view me as a fountain of entertainment, and that there must be something drastically wrong with someone who requires 700+ hours to record ten minutes of video.

Obviously, I'm not spending every hour of every month working on video recording (I also write for this blog, you know). Yet, because many of my viewers know of me only as a guy who makes videos, it might be easy for them to think that my sole purpose in life--at least, as I relate to them--is to make videos. For them.

Equally unreasonable is the expectation that a creator must replicate his or her most successful work with each new offering, as though his or her best work is the only work worth sharing. This is especially true with certain video game sequels, as I wrote about last month in my extensive examination and deconstruction of the idea that Mega Man 2 is the greatest Mega Man game of all time. It's difficult to appreciate a creator's creativity and vision if you are unsatisfied with anything less than that one amazing thing they did, that one time.

I think of how our perceptions of our favorite fandoms might be different if we knew the creators personally, or at least knew enough about them to keep our expectations in check. I imagine we'd be a much happier lot if we as fans could see George Lucas as the person behind one of the most influential fandoms of all time, instead of as "that guy who made Star Wars and then ruined my childhood." People can make all sorts of mistakes and disappoint you in all sorts of ways, but I'd wager that very few of them want to ruin your childhood.

I also think of how our friends and family might respond to us if we openly criticized them the way we criticize the creators whose creative works fail to meet our expectations. If the vitriol that spews from the mouths and keyboards of some comics fans were to be directed at their parents, siblings, spouses, or roommates for last night's dinner, I'd expect to see a lot of comics fans spewing out their teeth after getting punched in the face and tossed out to the curb. We excuse ourselves from behaving like human beings when our fandoms' creators only exist to create what we demand to see.

It's easy to forget sometimes that there's a real person behind every original creation. How much happier we are and how much more rational we appear when our expectations of our fandoms are based on the people who create for them, and not the other way around.

GameCola Recap: January 2011

Even though I failed to contribute anything to videogame humor website GameCola.net during the entire second half of January, I was rather prolific in the first half. Okay, so I wrote three articles and was part of a podcast that I think was recorded in December. Close enough.

I'm very pleased with my contributions. Hopefully they'll be met with your approval, but I'll settle for mild indifference.

Blog:

- The Humble Indie Bumble

Podcast:

- GC Podcast #33: 3D Games

Review:

- Star Wars: Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast

Video:

- How-To: Build Mod-Weapons in Dead Rising 2: Case Zero
.

Geekin' Around the Christmas Tree...

Rockman around the Christmas tree
Hanging out at Auto's shop.
Everyone's here with Wi-l-y;
He brought Flash, Ice, Toad and Top.

Spockin' around the Christmas tree
He's our fav'rite half-earthling.
Watching all of the red shirts die;
Boy, those phasers really sting.

You may get a sudden urge to don your pointy ears,
Shouting out, "Beam me up Scotty!" Replicate some Earl Grey hot tea.

Ewokin' around the Christmas Tree
Have a Star Wars holiday
Hang on, they did that already?
Put that VHS awaaaaaaay!

The Artist James Hance

As usual, we have a Sunday Links post for you today, but this one is special. Mostly because of how awesome it is. There’s just so much goodness here that I can’t imagine a single person not liking this.

From artist James Hance, I present Wookiee the Pooh.
Once again this week, thanks go to Dr. Nick Riviera for sending this link my way.

Oh, and if you like what you see, be sure to check out the artists’ website. There are plenty of classical art/pop cultural mash-ups, including my favorite--The Dark Starry Night. Mr. Hance has prints of all of his art up for sale--and at really low prices. There’s some wonderful stuff up there (including some originals), so go have a look.

I promise it’ll be worth it.

-- -- -- --

Happy Sunday, everyone!

Sunday Linking

And so ends our week of video game posting.

It was a long, arduous week for me, personally, since I have very little to say in terms of video gaming. Still, I made it through, and to celebrate, I wanted to share a drawing and a link that, if explored further, I think, could be adapted into the Greatest Video Game Ever.

There’s no point in arguing. Facts is facts. Take a look:
Told ya.

Happy Sunday, everyone!

Not Necessarily a List of The Best Co-Op Games Ever

One of the reasons I prefer single-player games over multiplayer games is that the latter are typically geared toward competition, and I don't like how unpleasant I become when I get overly competitive. However, I do enjoy playing video games with other people, which is why I gravitate toward cooperative or co-op games.

Because you can find bigger, better lists elsewhere of The Best Co-Op Games Ever, I won't bother to compile one here. Instead, I'd like to share some stories of the co-op games I've played with my friends, which could also double as a less-than-subtle list of The Best Co-Op Games Ever.

X-Men Legends (GameCube):

During my sophomore year of college, I was the RA of a dorm--actually a small house at the outskirts of campus--populated by a bunch of kids who, among other things, generally enjoyed playing or watching video games. A GameCube was hooked up to the video projector in the common area, so it wasn't unusual to walk through the door and find someone literally spattering zombie blood across the wall in Resident Evil 4.

It's hard not to occasionally sit in on someone playing video games in the central area of the house, but when the game is X-Men Legends and up to four players can hop in or drop out at any point during gameplay, sitting down to play for a while is almost irresistible.

The beat-'em-up action of X-Men Legends attracted virtually the whole house at one time or another, and many hours were spent shouting at Wolverine for wasting a healing potion when he can regenerate on his own, or holding up the rest of the group because I had destroy every single wall in this science lab with my optic blasts because I could.

Perhaps my favorite memory was the time that Nightcrawler teleported across the room to ambush a bad guy... except he never reappeared. We conjecture that he overshot and teleported into the wall. Brilliant.


Gyromite (NES):

Originally designed to be played with a robot, Gyromite is a simple puzzle-platformer that involves careful manipulation of blue and red pipes (if you're practicing good teamwork) or crushing your teammate to a fine paste (if you're not).

Unlike many other co-op games, Gyromite requires equal participation from both players--you can't just let one player do all the work and then pretend like you helped. One player controls a Dr. Wily-esque professor (in appearance, not disposition) who can climb ladders and grab monster-distracting radishes, and the other player moves the blue and red pipes up and down to smoosh monsters and get the professor where he needs to go.

Speaking from experience, this game is great fun with a significant other, and it's an excellent option for casual gamers who don't have the skill or interest to keep up with the likes of X-Men Legends. There's a sense of accomplishment when you both work together, and there can be some great laughs when pipe manipulation gets out of control. No specific stories to tell; just fun memories.


Lego Star Wars (GameCube):

This family-friendly action-adventure game (and all its relatives) is another great way to get gamers of all abilities playing together, as the most serious gaming challenges only arise when you're trying to go after 100% of the secrets. Between blasting apart droids with a blaster pistol and blowing up anything and everything to grab LEGO studs--the game's equivalent of actual currency--there's enough action and collection to keep most anyone happy.

Something that never failed to amuse while my girlfriend and I played was the end-of-level recap of everything we collected in the level: one of the tallies was of "TOTAL STUDS," in big bold letters, and I would always proudly declare that we were, in fact, total studs. Because I am a total dork.


Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (Genesis):

I'm not catastrophically bad at Sonic games, but there's a reason I'm a dedicated Nintendo and PC gamer. Sonic 2 was always my favorite game in the bunch for the cool locations, great music, good balance between platforming and blindly speeding through levels, and being able to play as an invincible second player.

Tails has always been my favorite Sonic character, so in addition to getting to play as him in 2-player co-op mode, I get to stick my friend, who is far better at Sonic games, with the flammable, crushable, pokeable hero, while I get to fly out of bottomless pits and take an endless amount of enemy abuse because I'm just designed to tag along! All the fun, hardly any of the effort. Total opposite of Gyromite, but just as fun.


Paperboy (NES):

The first time you sit your younger sister down to play Paperboy and explain to her that the aim of the game is to break bad people's windows with a newspaper, you get a delightful reaction that sets the tone for a gaming session where you discover that, after years of playing this game, you're just about as good as she is. I seldom play Paperboy to win; I just like thwapping things with newspapers, and it's always a joy to share that experience with someone new.

Hey, wait--there's no co-op function in Paperboy--how'd it get in here, anyhow?


The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords Adventures (GameCube):

It was known as "The Summer of Zelda." Four best friends speedrunning (or hearing about the others speedrunning) Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time, and spending a designated time each week playing through Four Swords Adventures, which required the most elaborate setup for a non-LAN-party multiplayer game I've ever seen: four Game Boy Advances with four link cables hooked up to the GameCube so that we could send our individual characters into caves and houses independent of the others without needing to break into split-screen action.

Four guys sitting on a couch, slapping each other around with swords, tossing one another into bottomless pits, and greedily breaking open money-filled clay pots with a boomerang that's loud enough to rouse the castle guards and get the whole team thrown into prison. Again. Ah, friendship.

While the game forces a lot of teamwork, the truth is that we all had our own skills and strengths that brought the whole experience together into one that was both fun and productive--somehow, we managed to beat the game before the summer was over, and before we physically threw a controller at our one teammate who insisted on throwing stuff at us. Heck, maybe that was me; it's hard to tell everyone apart when we're all technically the same character.


There's plenty more games to talk about--the Donkey Kong Country series, or Tales of Symphonia, or any game that wasn't technically co-op but I switched off with someone in the single-player mode--but I think there's enough here for one day, and I have plans of maybe someday covering some of those other games in their own dedicated posts. We'll see!