GameblurgKids Talking About the Future

I have a friend who simply can’t resist bad dialog. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t ignore the laughing sensation of shallow one-liners during a videogame’s epic action scenes, or some stereotypically corny “hero-line” during a game’s climax. And it doesn’t ruin anything for him. In fact, he enjoys it. “It’s awful,” he proclaims. “But although it’s bad, it’s a “funny” bad.”

At the time, I didn’t think I could hear anything dumber. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t figure out why something so stupid confused me. Does that make me stupid? Funny is bad. Bad is good? Should I try to make bad games with the hopes of them being “funny”?

Unfortunately, I might be guilty of the same shallow pleasure (admittedly, I am a big Vin Diesel fan). It’s interesting that not only my friend and I, but millions of other idiots like us enjoy similar garbage.

It’s just ironic (and a little disheartening) that we disregard our “standards” and ignore what a complete package is supposed to be just as long as there is one thing satisfying underneath the pretty bow and wrappings.

What’s more disheartening is how pretentious my approach was when addressing my friends’ opposing taste (no matter how moronic they may appear). Sometimes, you (or, I) forget that it’s okay to relax and just have fun enjoying a simple action sequence because of the spectacular visuals and forget about the aggravating glitches that may follow.

That’s the key: bad is acceptable for you when the good is overwhelming enough to blanket the bad. For example: Smooth and sleek gameplay mechanics (good) vs. Main character with a mullet (bad).

Sure mullets are well…mullets, but good gameplay is hard to come by so just ignore the fact that you’ve got it follow some moron around, staring at the back of his ridiculous mullet for 10 hours.

Take this Bayonetta magazine advert for instance:

To a fan of the upcoming game, the logo alone is enough to spark a smile, but thanks to the Sega’s Public Relations department, the stale line “I just dropped by to say die.” is completely accepted and/or ignored. The horrendous copy is irrelevant to those who begin to drool over the pretty pictures and the game’s release date.

Could it be that every once in a while, it’s perfectly fine to hop off of our high horse (when no one’s watching) and indulge in our guilty pleasures (reading/watching Twilight, humming Miley Cyrus tunes in your place of work)?

Deep down, we all love to enjoy our own version of cheap, trashy fun (enter dirty girl/clean girl analogy here) on a level that doesn’t require serious thought.

It’s revelations like these that almost make me want to learn how to create terrible games on purpose. Almost. It would be a purely for the money though. Who needs pride when you have Vin Diesel?

Edit: Kenneth just sent me a link to this trailer for Dante’s Inferno. Skip to the end of the video and you’ll have a beautiful example of what we’re discussing here.

The Xbox 360 has received a bump in hardware sales throughout the past 2 months which brings the question: Where has this sudden rise come form? Is it the booming software sales? No. It is because of its strategic product bundling? No. The responsibility of the recent Xbox 360 surge lies on the shoulders of the audacious Jane Lynch.

The witty actor (who’s credits include The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005), Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (2006) and Role Models (2008) ) stars in a slew of Microsoft’s “It’s More Fun Time” commercials, promoting Xbox’s ability to generate “fun” in the family household. What you don’t notice is Lynch’s gifted ability to sneak into your heart with her brash sarcasm and sly humor.

In order for the other companies like Nintendo and Sony to compete with the mammoth “Jane wave”, they could be a shoo in for a celebrity frontman/woman of their own.

A nice wholesome lady like Lisa Lampanelli, or a strategically placed f’bomb from an equally hilarious Katt Williams will have the family excited about purchasing consoles for this holiday season! Or you could just yank Jane from Microsoft. She’s funny as sin, and we’d be hard-pressed to blame you.

Our finger of disapproval doesn’t shake without friendly suggestions to follow, and if there’s anything we’ve aimed to teach you today is this: our world is jaded and celebrities sell stuff.

Recently, the taste of a rumored Dead Space 2 stimulated the curious sensations of the gaming blogosphere via mysterious silhouettes and messages.

A sequel to a creative title garners my personal excitement, but whenever the bar is set high, there’s always the heartbreaking possibility of expectations being crushed by the notorious sophomore slump.

Thus, there are issues we’d love for Dead Space producer, Visceral Games, to address in its upcoming title.

For instance, there’s something mildly distasteful about operating a slow protagonist in a fast-paced environment, much like the alien-infested atmosphere Dead Space creates. Sluggish melee options, clunky avatar movements and slow reloading time all constitute to a lack of fluidity during gameplay.

There’s also something disgusting about delivering cheap scares at awful camera angles. In a horror movie where survival games may draw inspiration from, this idea is cute, but in an interactive environment where I fend for my life/sanity, this idea further aggravates me, especially when I’m handicapped by gaudy camera positions.

During the down time of the ship’s exploration, the lack of the main character’s involvement in the story’s progression leaves me with a dull, empty feeling as random superiors bark orders at me. At some points during the game, I became very passionate (passionate, angry, same thing) during the intense skirmishes and it would be nice if my character could share similar emotions in the middle of these exhilarating situations with me.

Games that reach so far into the creative box for ideas have the tendency to leave the simple, practical elements of creating a game behind. A third person shooter in an accelerated atmosphere should not be plagued by a sluggish protagonist who is further handicapped by technical miscues and poor story involvement.

The sophomore slump can rip a franchise’s survival hopes to shreds, and could even threaten the potential of a intellectual property as strong as Dead Space, but with the right glue, Visceral Games can mend the few broken miscues and create another stimulating, fruitful roller coaster (preferably, without the headaches).

Assassin’s Creed 2 historical highlights captures my interests much like attractive artifacts would at a museum. Initially, I didn’t know how to take this. I’m not used to stopping and raising my eyebrows at small facts and tidbits in a videogame.

I’m used to enjoying exhilarating, emotional roller coasters that force me to cringe at the sudden appearance of zombie waves or throwing my controller at the screen when I’m “un-fairly” sniped from afar.

Assassin’s Creed 2 is a different kind of monster: It makes me pause and ponder instead of pausing and breaking things (which is pretty good for the longevity of my controllers). As I walk around, there’s something new to embrace about the culture of the European Renaissance that is re-imagined for the sake of the game. You can step among the Palazzo Vecchio and learn about its cultural impact. As you step passed other historical structures, even more historical beings like Leonardo da Vinci (famed painter, inventor, philosopher) and Pope Alexander VI (notorious for corruption and immoral nepotism) exist behind their walls, choosing to aid or negatively impact your quest.

Like an interactive museum, each step leads away from one artifact and towards another. You can experience what it was like to hear the call of the town herald recite news and other announcements because an overwhelming percentage of the town may be illiterate.

You can also experience what it’s like to engage in a free-running rooftop pursuit of a random pickpocket who decides that your money would look much better in his pouch instead of your own.

The culture captured in Assassin’s Creed 2 bears the responsibility of revealing the environment of the Renaissance during the late 15th and early 16th century in Italy, and so far, the game has done a convincing job depicting the chronicled atmosphere.

Now, if the story didn’t awkwardly run dry and the combat system was just as engaging as the atmosphere, we might have a really good game on our hands.

This month, Game Informer celebrates their top 200 games of all time in unique fashion. The lure to these covers is that they strip away the normal routine of displaying teasers to the inside content and instead, reveal a simplistic showcase of their main focus (In this case, the games that have inspired creativity in the videogaming universe).

There’s no colorful background to disctract readers. No font is plastered along the pictures to minimize its appeal. The only portion of the magazine cover that remains is the featured artwork.

An artist emphasizes minimal design on the cover of items that bears content in an attempt to allow the content (images/words) to impact viewers and the December covers of Game Informer embrace this approach, and succeed with elegant success.

Pretty pictures lie below. Enjoy!
(Via Game Informer)

The good people at Epic Games have decided to release the Unreal Development Kit (UDK) for a reasonable price: free. The Unreal Engine 3 is used by videogame development teams worldwide and is considered a standard tool by many veterans inside of the videogaming universe. This gift is a dream come true for modders, students and developers who couldn’t afford the UDK before. So download and enjoy and thank you Epic.

There is a big reason why the competitive fighting game genre has few premier franchises: it’s surprisingly difficult to rewrite what Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat and Tekken have planted in the minds of players worldwide. How do you put a different touch on a world that other franchises have a stranglehold on?

Fans of fighting games have slim pickings. Compared to the other videogame genres to choose from, fighting gamers have a specific allegiance to franchises that run deep. Who can blame these players? These franchises have been around for a long time for a big reason: they have consistently done the hard things really well.

This may not come as surprise to industry veterans who have succeeded or tried to emulate the magic of a fighting game, but to those who don’t lose sleep over programming woes, the problems of creating a sophisticated fighting game with good balance, unique characters and an enticing culture run deeper than the average eye can tell.

Although the surface of a conventional fighting game is simple (one-on-one battles), its inner workings require much thought. Large rosters are a nice thought but the size of a game’s roster becomes irrelevant when their powers are not balanced.

The problems are rooted deep when approaching the road to solving balancing issues. Imagine in front of your game console of choice and you find yourself inside of the character menu, but your selections are influenced deciding if it’s feasible to endure an uphill battle because of their lack of offense and exploitable defense.

When you create a game with overpowered, or “God”, characters, some characters become invisible because of their uselessness. Why not create a 5 man fighting game if they can overpower the rest of a 25 man “roster”?

A fair physics engine must be in place in order for any player to experience a fair fight using his/her choice of characters. A balanced roster erases unfair advantages and introduces strategy. Now, instead of merely choosing the best characters, the player must rely on his/her own skill in order to pull out the win.

Regardless of a roster’s balance, it must not only be diverse, but full of fun and unique characters. Because of the genre’s conventions, escaping clichéd ninjas and martial artists is imperative to creating a special and distinctive experience. If we dive outside of the realm of customary fighting game characters, we could begin to experiment with new personalities:

Now that we have our working physics and interesting characters to exercise those mechanics with, they all need a fun world to play in, and that’s where the culture lies. From the powers that are at your “deposition” to the atmosphere that you and your opponent do battle, the predominate behaviors, attitudes and design characterize a title.

What characteristics your game presents are an important part in establishing an identity. Take the Mortal Kombat franchise for instance: the game showcases overzealous blood and the dismemberment of body parts in an attempt to pitch the idea of deadly bloodshed.

While a sleek “user-interface” will induce a calming effect, a ragged and grungy arena menu will suggest aggression and intensity. Language, music, art also play vital roles in determining the “feel” that will help a game to survive in past its initial release date.

Creating a new fighting game franchise goes against the heavy hitters 10 years worth of headaches and troubleshooting that an inexperienced team hasn’t began to think about. With a full plate of fixing physics hiccups, constructing a list of characters and cultivating a new environment in a crowded genre is a task only for a determined team to shake and reinvent a tired genre for the better.

Starting a brand new fighting game franchise without a license is like trying to find an alternative for the pencil and pencil: things that are “in place” are hard to replace because we’re so used to them.

But remember, someone started drafting iPods when the world was addicted to CD players.

Sure it feels like a recruitment call and a brainwashing tactic rolled into one gorgeous advertisement, but you’d have to admit that if Microsoft manufactured an army, you’d enroll faster than you could say Sony Entertainment.

Via IGN

The launch of a videogame doesn’t have to be just its date and a few late night TV ads. The event can spawn into colossal beginning for a successful franchise. With a few well executed risks, a successful launch can set it up for unprecedented success.

Imagine this:

The brisk morning light peeks through a gloomy Britain sky, awakening you from your dreary slumber.

The day is no longer exciting to look forward to as free reign as become a choice of the past, abducted by a totalitarian government who has become obsessed with the restriction of pedestrian movement.

On this morning, a knock rattles against your front door and in a moment of desperation to stray from the monotony of the normal morning routine in an autocratic Britain, you rush to answer the door.

As you pull the door ajar, a man in uniform stands in your doorway from the British Freight Company who requires your signature to receive your mysterious package.

You follow instructions and unveil the box’s contents: a Guy Fawkes mask. This mask is the very mask that appeared months before on national television, preaching revolution to an oppressed nation. The very oppressed nation that you live in.

As mysterious as the mask’s presence is, its message ignites a feeling of hope and faith, and suddenly, it begins to articulate into a goal: freedom.

Soon after, you peer down your street and witness similar countless instances occur in front of your very eyes. It takes one mask to engulf the lives and thoughts of hundreds of thousands across your world in Britain in order to create an atmosphere of drastic change.

Now, let’s keep the event that transpired, but leave the futuristic landscape that V For Vendetta (2005) has created for us, and return to reality.

What if those masks were something else? A plastic Master Chief helmet? Leisure Suit Larry hair gel?

Imagine being a fan of a franchise and being one of these recipients. To carry badge of allegiance and support, and generate excitement of your favorite game’s release at the sight of its symbol would entice enthusiasm through the many fans for the arrival of their game.

Publishers, instead of the normal Tuesday release date, the week before its release, when the UPS representative shows up to your customer’s door, and unveils the perfect reminder that he/she is about to be apart of one of the biggest events in their life is something to put thought into.

Think of more creative ways to involve the most important people, the customer, in your product’s lifeline.

Good games with a mediocre launch might flourish on its own worth, make decent return and survive the wave of competition, but a good game with a memorable launch will devour that wave of competition.

Should I draw stuff? Program stuff? Organize stuff? Your goals need to be put into perspective, and David S.J. Hodgson and Bryan Stratton’s book, Paid to Play: An Insider’s Guide to Video Game Careers is a great start to organizing to skills and interests and harnessing them into a profitable career in the videogaming universe.

Many professionals inside of the gaming universe have followed a road well traveled. Initially, fans of the media merely play videogames.

After a large amount of time invested into various videogames, some fans begin to gauge a abnormal interest while thinking about them. They become knowledgeable about what they’re doing, and want to dissect their celebrated hobby at a deeper level: things like learning what makes videogames attractive to begin with, or learning what makes a bad videogame.

At the height of this curiosity, we gain an intense desire to know, at what was once a meddling inquiry to the mind becomes a healthy obsession about a subject that you genuinely care for, and alas, a career is born.

Although there are those who have stumbled into their careers without giving it much thought before college, those who do know that they want to enter the videogame industry as a professional have an interesting dilemma: what should I do?

Should I draw stuff? Program stuff? Organize stuff? Your goals need to be put into perspective, and David S.J. Hodgson and Bryan Stratton’s book, Paid to Play: An Insider’s Guide to Video Game Careers is a great start to organizing your skills and interests and harnessing them into a profitable career in the videogaming universe.

Paid to Play provides a vast overview of what many jobs entail that surround the concept of creating a videogame. Do you have the patience for hours and hours on end for a programming task? Do you really care about the proper color palettes that need to be applied to your character’s 3D models?

If you’re confused or overwhelmed in a world crowded with many interesting jobs, Paid to Play is a great starting point to figuring out where exactly your interest lays, and where your career can begin.

After EA’s previous installation of the Harry Potter series, I was confident that I could satisfy my prejudiced love for flying dragons and Hermione Granger, but eventually, my wizardly bias couldn’t fight the snail’s pace of the Half-Blood Prince’s beginning.

I like the “3 strikes” rule when approaching videogames: within the first 15 minutes of a videogame, if I encounter 3 major hazards, I move on to another game.

This concept is simple, and it has saved me plenty of time over the years.

Although this 3 strikes rule is in existence, when I grabbed a hold of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, I was sure I wouldn’t have to apply the rule to this game.

After EA’s previous installation of the Harry Potter series, I was confident that I could satisfy my prejudiced love for flying dragons and Hermione Granger, but eventually, my wizardly bias couldn’t fight the snail’s pace of the Half-Blood Prince’s beginning.

Let’s take it from the top:

The first slew of unstoppable cut scenes are stuffed down my throat. The thing that depresses me more than the bad acting is that I know there will be more of these to come.

(We can considered this as a strike, but I know Hermione is in some of these cut scenes, so I can just start paying attention when she shows up again.)

The game begins play with Harry conveniently placed on his flying broomstick outside of a rundown house called the Burrow. Practicing for Quidditch, the wizarding sport played between two teams of seven players who ride broomsticks and four balls to score points, we are instructed to flying throughout the sky and capture the Golden Snitch, a flying, darting object that must be captured in order for the game to end.

As I chase the Snitch, I start to notice how the flying sequence drags on monotonously. My movement is restricted to the thumb stick in which, all I can do is move in four basic directions and move through obstacles in order to gain speed.

Historically, the Snitch is extremely fast, which can be provided for an argument that defends the developer’s need to provide a linear and sterile path to track the Snitch down. Regardless, I’m still bored.

As I ride, I can not change speed, reach out to grab the Snitch when I’m near it or do any cool broom tricks. Not to mention, no Hermione sighting. (Strike one-Abysmal opening sequence)

Thankfully, we land and end this mess only to endure another. Harry finds his best friends Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger (five minutes too late) lurking outside of the Burrow.

Just as soon as I was ready to forgive the 1st strike because of Hermione’s appearance we encounter our second major hazard.

I learn that I’m being instructed to remove wasted cauldrons from a lawn. No catch, no hidden goals, just moving cauldrons up and over a fence because someone spilled them. Ron’s subtle sense of humor saves me from complete boredom as I continue manipulating the cauldrons.

If you haven’t noticed by now, Harry Potter uses magic. I can not fathom any fan of the series, or sane human being getting excited over removing cauldrons from a pool of waste with his wand that’s capable of so much more.

Doing chores are as boring as it sounds, and in a world where I can cast killing spells and levitate, you’d think there were better things available to do versus cleaning messes. (Strike two-Failure to elevate excitement)

The cauldrons are gone, and I hopelessly wish for that whole fun thing everyone’s always talking about. Recovering from my exciting cauldron escapade, the gameplay stops and awkwardly, the game skips from one setting to another without warning or smooth transition.

Experiencing annoyance, I’m prompted with another long, unskippable cut scene. (I can not describe much of it as I shamelessly started scribbling notes instead of glancing to see more characters try that whole “good acting” thing.)

(Side note: Harry Potter’s tales are gigantic in scope, so the movies are scaled down to a two/three hour experience, so it often feels like a summary of all of the events going on, resulting in awkward pacing. A game can offer more than two hours of play to move from the beginning to the end of the story, so I can only blame the game’s terrible pacing on laziness and/or poor project planning.)

The gameplay returns as I’m dumped outside of Hogwarts with another friend of Harry’s, Luna Lovegood. We take a long, boring trail north to return to the school. I don’t have any funny quotes to describe how fun it was, because it wasn’t. (Strike three- Slow transition into the story)

Here, a smarter me would have given up and moved on to Google-ing for Hermione stills, but my blinding bias will not allow me to shake this game off that easily.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to splash my face with water to keep awake, my bigotry gets the best of me, convincing me that this experience will get better. I do not recall any substance abuse in my bathroom, and to this day, I have no idea what I was thinking.

I eat another long, dragging cut scene as I finally enter the boarding school. The headmaster Professor Dumbledore explains the school’s new teachers and more info about the school that I did not care to remember.

After more trite dialogue, the gameplay resumes, allowing me to navigate the school, following Nearly Headless Nick, an ghost who provides his guiding services for myself and Ron to get to our class. Wait, class? After nearly falling asleep, I’ve got to go to class?

I accept the punishment and trek down the flights of stairs. The school is replicated accurately and seems alive as it’s populated by active children and teachers.

As I explored more of the school, my interest began to surface. “Maybe it’ll be exciting,” I thought as I moved in and throughout Hogwarts. Naively, I stepped into the Potions class room and receive the final blow to my enthusiasm for the game.

I’m instructed to take a seat and begin mixing potions. At this point, I’m desperate to find any reason to continue. “Maybe the school will explode and I’ll get to fight dragons?” I said, stuffing imaginary (but encouraging!) thoughts into my head.

The process of mixing potions consists of the following: one by one, by one, I retrieve the specific ingredient and add it to a kettle of liquids and while controlling the temperature, I create a mystical mixture of…we’re done here.

You’re busy. I’m busy. Videogames that carry the goal of entertainment must do so within 15 minutes to obtain and keep the attention of the game’s player, or you risk losing him forever to something more satisfying like Spongebob or streaming internet pornography.

It’s as if developers and publishers forget that their competition is stiff, smart and creates a similar experience. Remember, your game isn’t the only one on the shelf: I have options and you should make yours a superior one.

In the span of 25 minutes, I was driven to a point of ultimate boredom and I firmly believe that the Half-Blood Prince’s only saving grace would’ve been making Hermione Granger a playable character.

I quit games that slow and stall on the regular and suggest you do much of the same for the sake of your sanity.

It’s a little strange that the Joker chose to take over our site, but as you can see, we had no say so in the matter. We just do what we’re told. It doesn’t really help when people are threatening you with butter knives and explosive teddy bears.

Just in case you’re assuming we’re just sitting on our hands, complaining about video games, we’re here to remind you about our dedication to creating a dynamic blog that visually celebrates our culture.

It’s a little strange that the Joker chose to take over our site, but as you can see, we had no say so in the matter. We just do what we’re told. It doesn’t really help when people are threatening you with butter knives and explosive teddy bears.

Enjoy the deranged takeover. We hope we put a smile on your face.

There’s only 1 thing worse than following a tool for hours: following a tool that doesn’t talk.

During the silent times, your tool not only does nothing, but continues to say nothing. During the frantic firefights, sure, we’re attacking but I’m not a fan of playing with a thoughtless puppet.

When you spend hours with any game, your avatar stops being a tour guide and becomes an interactive accomplice. A vast majority of our games focus on one main character and it’s important to consume the player through this gateway because the main character is responsible for the game’s progression.

A great example of providing insight into a lonely protagonist is shown through the movie I Am Legend (2007).

I Am Legend features a character named Robert Neville who finds himself in a lifeless Los Angeles as the last man standing, years after a cosmic apocalypse infects the world around him.

The drawing point of the movie is the focus of Neville in this mysterious situation and the delusional world that solitary confinement has cultivated around him.

In order to defend its self, Neville’s mind created life around him to preserve his sanity. This results in activities like turning mannequins into neighbors and animals into friends to protect his mind.

Neville vibrantly spoke to his neighbors about women that he was interested in. He holds conversations with his dog about his daily activities as if the dog were capable of understanding him as a human being would. He created his own world by interacting with his environment as if it were normal.

During one of the many acceptance speeches for the leading role inI Am Legend (2007), Will Smith mentioned how humbled he was by the award. To paraphrase one of his many speeches:

“[...] the movie featured only me for hours, and I’m thankful that the audience still enjoyed it enough to give me an award for my performance.”

Imagine if Robert Neville stayed silent the entire movie, only motivated to take action from the instruction of commanding officers. I have to admit that I don’t feel much attraction towards the idea of following a mute.

When you’re forced to spend so much time following anything, you begin to form a relationship: especially if that “thing” is a human being. If that particular thing lacks personality and depth, it will fail to gauge affection, interest or care for its well-being.

Let’s examine Dead Space’s main character, Issac Clarke, as another example of a protagonist in a secluded atmosphere.

• Our avatar’s attire consists of a dull-toned, generic suit that has little personality. (Every variation seems to suck, no matter how many upgrades.)
• Issac has no input on his missions because he has no voice, which portrays a lack of personal control, and thus, a tool.
• Because he’s silent, and merely takes orders, the introduction of his life and family outside of his setting lose meaning. Why should I care about Issac’s wife when I don’t even care about Issac?

If there is supposed to be any synergy between the player and avatar, it would be benefit the relationship if both expressed the emotions that certain situations evoke.

When the surrounding environment stimulates extreme emotion, there is room to create a persona for the player to relate to and more importantly, attach him/herself to in order to dive into the world entirely.

It’s as if you’re putting on an intriguing mask, and your interest in what the mask will turn you into begins to grow.

• What’s the story behind this thing?
• What is the expression it’s trying to convey?
• Could anyone recognize me if I went streaking?

In the videogame medium, it’s important to utilize our main strength to its highest potential: interaction. This extends further than commanding your character to pick up an item.

It’s about getting inside of your character’s head and gaining an understanding of the person that you’re spending the next 10+ hours with. If the person behind the character on screen is full of personality, why can’t the character be just as interesting?

As you can see (look up, silly), Gameblurg’s crew is excited for the release of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles In Time Re-Shelled scheduled to invade Xbox Live on August 5th, and later this year on the PlayStation Network.

We hope you all enjoy the redesign and that you all are playing the 1989 Classic version of the game in preparation for the August 5th release.

If you’re not playing, I really can’t understand why you’re still reading this. I posted a linkfor you and everything.

For those of you hoping that I’d end this post in some corny, Turtle-related catchphrase, I hope I’ve disappointed you.

Edit: Alright, alright…Turtle power.

We all have that one friend who happens to be better at Rock Band/Guitar Hero than ourselves, so when he comes over, what happens?

You get demoted to bass. No no, I don’t want to hear it: it sucks.

Yeah yeah, I know. “Bass isn’t so bad.” “It’s the soul of the band.”

No thank you. There used to be a day where a lively rhythm guitar was a second choice instead of playing the murky cords of an uneventful bass guitar.

As cute as the instrument is, I’d prefer not to repeat the same hum-drum melodies over, and over through the course of a 4 minute song.

Unless you’re utterly friend-less (lucky you), there are a few groaning instances where all pretend rock stars have had little choice but to play bass:

• You suck.
• Your friends suck, but want to take on a few hardcore Metallica solos on the medium difficulty.

I don’t want to hear anything about programming, or “adding 1 player would create a 5 man roster, and take up all the slots”. This is injustice. I’d like to enjoy some of my favorite songs without raping my fingers or being bored to death.

It’s as if I’m trying to find the middle ground again: my inner peace. Alright, I just personally would rather play with a controller than play bass guitar again for another 3 straight hours. Activision/MTV, can you help me out?