Games I'll Never Play

I find that I'm becoming increasingly interested in games with integrated layers. Being an assassin is cool, I guess, but improving businesses that generate money I can use to buy better swords and armour? Sign me up. Exploring the universe is great and all, but slowly collecting resources to create a fleet to do missions for me? I'm all over it.

There's something about that power curve I love; starting off as a nothing and ending up with greater systems and abilities that make me near unstoppable. That's where the action is at. I don't think a lot of games understand that dynamic. Sure, it strips the late game of challenge, but the game is front-loaded with difficulty. The payoff is kicking ass without breaking a sweat. Don't give me none of that 'enemies scale with the player' crap.

That being said, I want two games. Problem is that they don't exist.

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The Skull Admiral

The third person gameplay of Assassin's Creed Black Flag, some of the sailing technicalities from Sea of Thieves, the economy of No Man's Sky, the ship customization of Mech Warrior, plus crew and fleet management.

I want to start off with a single dingy running simple trading missions. I want to work up to a sloop, and a brigand, and a galleon. I need to be able to customize the ship with weapons and hull types and sails and such that all have their own tradeoffs. More armour means less cargo capacity. Bigger guns mean less speed. As the ship grows, I need to recruit more crew and assign them to appropriate slots depending on their skills. Eventually I recruit other ships, appoint captains, and give them tasks.

I want to develop trade routs that involve buying a product from a port where it's abundant to a port where it's rare for a big profit. The route will have hazards along the way. Maybe I can assign some of my fleet as escorts so that I can gamble big on sensitive cargo. Like Drug Wars, that simple game for early Palm Pilots and T-83 calculators.

Of course there big fights with ship to ship combat where you need to mind the wind, ocean currents, line of sight, and weapon characteristics. Damage that impacts your maneuverability. Maybe you start taking on water and need to assign gun crews to start bailing. After a particularly bad fight, you can to go to port to repair, rearm, and resupply. If you're feeling ballsy, you can try boarding an enemy ship and fight back and forth on the deck. You can recruit defeated crewmen, steal their cargo, and maybe even salvage the ship for your own fleet.

There will also be ther factions and bounties and wanted levels and all that. Maybe you get into such big trouble that you start hurling parts of your fleet and your enemy. Maybe even a big showdown. And once you're done you can claim a territory and port, which will help your trade routes. Oh yes, get things really moving and watch the money come in. Enhance your fleet; more ships, captains, upgrades. You're on top of the world and unstoppable.

But now you've become too powerful that all the other factions form an alliance to take you down a peg. A new armada from the Old World arrives in force to carve out their spot. Maybe you can stand your ground, or maybe you watch your empire crumble until you're down to a single port and handful of sorry ships and need to start all over.

Also, storms, finding treasure, ambushing treasure ships, basic diplomacy, running blockades, smuggling, and all those other delicious pirate-y things.

I tried replaying Black Flag recently to scratch this itch. What was more disappointing than the dated graphics and simplified gameplay was the sheer potential that was left on the table. It was an alright story wrapped in arcade-y mechanics. They had a simple Fleet metagame, but it was so simple and inconsequential it kinda hurt. So close, yet so very far away.

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Limited Slip

Here's the thing with most racing games: you get a car, you attend an 'event' of 3-4 races with one car, and then you move on to another event with a different car. Their idea of progress is an arbitrary XP system that unlocks faster and faster cars. There's no real connection from one event to the next.

I want Forza 7 combined with Motorsport Manager. Hear me out.

Simulation Arcade racing is the best - it can be accessible while having enough depth to challenge you and add substance to the driving itself. Screw all that 'SWEET DRIFT AROUND THAT CORNER, NOW YOU GET MORE NITRO!!' crap (I'm looking at your NFS). I want to worry about apexes and undercutting and off-camber turners that upset your suspension. I want to feel like I'm driving, not watching an anime cover of Fast and the Furious.

So along those lines, I want driving with a hood cam, tire wear/temperatures, fuel, drafting, damage, weather conditions that affect grip, understeer, lift off oversteer, manual transmissions, and pit stops. Mmmm.

A step above that, I want a racing league with *gasp* seasons. That means you earn driver and team points that impact where you start on the grid. And in the right conditions, you can win a season by never finishing a single race above 5th place. It's all about that consistency, after all.

Wait a minute, team points? That's right. Teams. You can run your own teams, minding the mechanic salaries, hiring a team mate, selecting sponsors, creating your brand, building infrastructure, engineering parts, applying upgrades, etc.

That means you get buy the car you want, build it up how you like it, and tune it to driving perfection.

So how about that power curve? It goes like this: you start as a free agent driver, getting paid a pittance here and there to race for other teams where you can. Once you get a podium here and a bonus there, you start your own team. You start off in some low-end spec series with a cheap car. Season over season you improve and build your garage. With enough money you can buy better cars to compete in faster series. With enough wins and points, you get invited to higher and more prestigious series. With those come better sponsors and prize money. Eventually you have all the money and rep to race whatever car in whatever series you want, with a kickass team that will give you the edge over anyone.

If you don't get emotionally attached to the the very first shitty car you purchase, the game isn't doing its job. You've gotta take that haggard old Civic or whatever and squeeze every inch of performance out of it. It's gotta be one tired and abused war horse that's seen you through many a track battle. Eventually you'll have to choose between a big overhaul to take it to the next level, or simply putting the cash towards a better vehicle.

I get it, the variety of vehicles is what sells most car games. But that shouldn't mean that the game holds your hand through driving every single one in its own event. Give me a series, with seasons and points. Give me team infrastructure and personnel management. Then put me in the drivers' seat to enjoy the fruits of my labour.

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What can I say, I'm a man of simple tastes and attainable desires.
-Cril

I Am Not Okay: A Rebuttal

But on the other hand, I believe in the power of the mind. Somethings gain more influence just by being acknowledged and being granted permission to live in your head.

I've read and known about tinnitus for a long time, but I regret that fateful evening when I actually paused  to wonder if I actually had it. Turns out, yes, I do. I wish I had just left it alone and not taken 20 seconds to look for (and find) a problem. Now I can't escape it. Especially when I'm lying in bed at night, trying to doze off to the high pitched squeal of an overlayed B and A flat. Thankfully it goes away when I listen to music. I'm like Baby Driver, but without any discernible talent.

The point is that maybe by admitting I'm depressed and feel like hot garbage, I therefore am more depressed and feel like even hotter garbage. It opens the door for my head to overindulge in self-inflicted burden. I don't want to have anything wrong with me. No one does. No one wants to be weak, or have to admit that there's something off with their mind. That's having to admit that the very fabric of your reality is tainted, twisted, and torn. 

I don't want to go to therapy and discover more issues. I don't want to become reliant on another person to help me cope with day to day life. I don't want to depend on prescription medications to be functional. I want to be stable, reliable, and self-sufficient. Screw needing a 3rd party to help you stabilize your own place in the world. This is not something that a strong individual does. This is something a weak individual does.

I used to like to think that I was a decent person that was on top of his life. Responsible and all that. Someone you'd want on your team. Someone who knows what's going on, does his share of the work, and will pull through when you need him most. I'm no longer that person if I'm wildly depressed.

If I don't believe I'm depressed, how can I possibly be depressed? It's impossible to be a slave to the trappings of a mental condition if I just force my head to be in the right place. I think therefore I am. I don't think, therefore I am not.

A horse walks into a bar. The bartender looks up and says, "You always seem to be going into bars. Are you an alcoholic?" The horse replies, "No, I don't think" and POOF he disappears. You see, this is a reference to the philosophical theory of 'I think, therefore I am', but if I would've explained that first it would've been putting Descartes before the horse.

I want my problems to go POOF. If I can make my mind certain that everything's fine, my mind will make it so. It's a self regulating, isolated system, isn't it? Just gotta suck it up. Be strong. Be better.

I still feel like garbage, and I hate how weak and useless that makes me. Perhaps I just need to suck it up and do the strong thing by ignoring the problem away. That's how it works, right?

-Cril

I Am Not Okay

 I used to be in a rather unhealthy relationship with this lady. We were stuck in this feedback loop of drama; we'd find problems, drift apart, have soul-searching conversations, come together into a passionate renewal of our affection, which eventually cooled. It was either hot or cold, we never found a solid balance and became addicted to the emotions and sensations we found at the extremes.

Deep down I knew this was exhausting and untenable. If you're listening to this relationship on the radio, you'd start off by listening to the saddest station. Keep going down the band, and if your fingers are nimble and ears acute, you'll just pick up a small oasis of funny between the static. It was a truly absurd dynamic. At this particular point, though, we'd gone far beyond and were tuned into the station for just plain stupid. It was that stage where we were "taking space" from each other, again, for whatever reason.

I was hanging out with my uncle, and he made a casual inquiry about how things were going with the two of us. I sheepishly told him that we were taking a break. He replied with, "Aw, that's too bad. I guess some things just don't work out. You'll be alright." Conversation moved on, and it took me a few days to untangle a quizzical expression left on my face.

He didn't say, "When will you get back together?" or "I hope you two will work it out". Instead it was "That's too bad." With a sense of finality, like hearing about a dead pet. We weren't just taking a break, we were broken up. Cleft in twain. And I didn't correct him, for some reason.

That comment, whether intended or not, made me pull the emergency brake and bring the whole flaming disaster ride to a halt. Because I had actually told another soul, I had to own the situation and see it through. Sure, we could've gotten back together, but that would've made me look like a weak-willed idiot. Which is what I was. There's something about moving an issue out of your head and into the real world that puts it into context and gives you the perspective to appreciate just how messed up it is.

A few months ago I approached a doctor to get on anti-depressants. I did the whole schtick for a while when I was a teenager, so I recognized the signs and knew what the solution would be. As an adult, every few years I'd have a short stint that would work itself out. I never told anyone, I just muddled through. For the last couple years, though, I've been stuck in a short stint that isn't exactly short any more. So to the doctor I went. There's no shame in it, mental health is a legitimate priority, medications can help, and all those other cheery platitudes.

I skimmed the surface with my doctor, did a few tests, and she prescribed me some meds. What all those mental health advocates don't say is how hard it is to get on a stabilized medication that doesn't screw you up worse than before. I thought crossing the threshold into the doctor's office and admitting the problem would be the hardest step. I was wrong.

Treating a mental issue as a physical problem gave me a tool to box it up into a tidy little container; there's not something wrong with my mind, it's just a chemical balance in my brain that needs to get sorted out. Go pills!

But pills haven't been the quick and easy solution that I seem to remember as a teenager. I'm about to start my third different medication, and my doctor said that I should really consider some "talk therapy". She gave me a referral. I submitted my patient information on their website, and they scheduled an intake appointment call. Then something peculiar happened; in our phone discussion I had to describe not my general mood or feelings, but who I was and what I'm actually thinking about. In those fifteen minutes, I shone a light into a remote corner of my brain that I've always known is there but conveniently avoid acknowledging.

Almost like that missing kid in that creepy movie where everyone in the small quiet town says, "Oh, we don't talk about that." Yeah, you know that something's not right and it's a giant neon sign short of being as obvious as possible.

I am not doing okay.

Sure, depression. I feel empty and can't remember the last time I was passionate about or looked forward to... anything. Blah, blah, whatever.

But I can't do anything creative. Never mind inspiration, I can't get I can't even look at creative things without feeling like a failure.

I'm becoming stupider every day. It started off with a weird misspelling or forgotten date, and now I'm making bizarre typos (when was the last time that you spelled "challenge" as "channel"?), missing details on a label right in front of me, misremembering my weekly schedule... I've heard that your mind slows down as you age, but this simply can't be right.

Fixing a garden-variety depression may be one thing, but is there any bouncing back from watching your mind is unravel itself in a desperate frenzy? My professional life is a mess, and how on earth can I possibly dig up the gumption to find a new job when I'm a creative failure and can't even pretend to be a semi-intelligent individual.

By removing the ugly paper mache mask obscuring my insecurities, I'm feeling like the mess I've been hiding. And damn, this was just an introductory call. I don't even have my first appointment until the end of the month. But just having to say neglected things out loud to another human being has opened the floodgates.

Here's the kicker: I now have the opportunity to do something about it and get off the flaming disaster ride again. I hope I have at least that much left in me.

-Cril

Oh, I've changed my number
Wore disguises and went undercover just to
Just to hide away from you
Oh, my ghost came a-calling
Making noises 'bout a promise I had broken
Oh, I'm gonna be lonely soon

Oh, here comes trouble
Put your helmet on, we'll be heading for a fall
Yeah, the whole thing's gonna blow
And the devil's got my number
It's long overdue, he'll come looking soon
Yeah, the whole thing's gonna blow

"Everything's gonna be okay"
Oh, I keep telling myself
"Don't worry, be happy"
Oh, you keep telling yourself
"Everything's gonna be okay"
Oh, I keep telling myself
"Don't worry, be happy"
Oh, you keep telling yourself
"Everything's gonna be okay"

TV On The Radio - Trouble