Reviews by AmberShards

Yes, it's a game about terrorists, but this one takes the side of a would-be suicide bomber. (Like you didn't see that one coming, right?) Everything from the name, to the intro text, to the only puzzle in the game, is about painting coalition partners in the worst possible light, in an attempt to make your heart bleed for the poor guy whose homemade bomb didn't go off and kill lots of people. Utterly depraved.

Ok, since it's fair game to comment on other reviews, here's mine.

1) "liberal neocon" is an oxymoron, and says more about the person pastiching together such an epithet than it does the original reviewer.
2) As far as "neocons" go (which is anti-semitic argot for "right-wing Jews"), ignoring abuses is not their claim to fame. However, many of them are skilled in sussing out bigots.
3) As far as people being angry about the game, they're angry about it because it lies.
4) Condemning reviewers because they refuse to take action on something that they're not convinced exists is illogical.
5) Panties on someone's head, disrespecting their Islamic masculinity, and psychological fake-out (as the cover clearly represents -- if you knew the story behind it), are not torture, yet they have perpetually been referred to as such. The very same people who claim that are the ones claiming that torture is widespread.
6) Finally, as far as this stuff actually occurring, once you get down to any actual, verifiable cases, you're talking about something that is statistically irrelevant; thus all the rhetoric about it empowers only one group of people -- those who want to take America down a notch for either their own twisted pleasure (keyboard cowards everywhere) or for their own empowerment (Hamas, Al Qaeda, national Democrat leadership).

Every so often, I come across a game that I cannot understand why it was made. TOASS (how's that for an acronym?) is one of those games. First, the underpinnings are gimmicky. IF based on an RPG from an alternate universe? Why? Second, the game is far too difficult. I heart RPGs majorly, but nothing sucks more than a game which you can't get past the first monster. TOASS is one such game. Third, the writing style is purposefully worse than an overdramatic grade-Z drive-in flick. It's not humorous because it's everpresent and unavoidable. Fourth, well, I don't even have a fourth, but my heart goes out to the author. Some people miss the mark by accident, but some miss the mark on purpose. To say that TOASS is worse than a Paul Panks adventure is probably not sufficient, because Pank's work at least had a sort of innocent incompetence about it. TOASS is bad on purpose, and is sufficiently well-designed so that you can't miss the point. People who enjoy RPGs won't enjoy this as it's like being slapped repeatedly. People who don't like RPGs will find it insufferable. TOASS seems designed to drive away anyone interested in playing it. I suppose there's a challenge in that and only people who won't let a game have the final word will survive this game.

Unlike others who have loved this game (and most games I review it seems are of this variety), I can't say that I enjoyed Lost Pig after about an hour. It starts strong, unfolding the world of the PC and who the PC is bit by bit. Then the impossible puzzles hit. You'll bang your head against the keyboard as you strive for even two points and move game objects around at random, utterly perplexed as to what is supposed to do what. The NPCs that you find may be loquacious, but they talk an awful lot about nothing at all. As that doesn't help you in any way with your objective in the game, their conversational skills quickly become annoying and frustrating. In short, the pacing and puzzle difficulty are seriously out of whack. It's a shame, because there's obviously been no small effort expended on the early parts of the game and the conversation structure. Playing Lost Pig is like you're driving a new car and just as you reach second gear, you drive off a cliff.

No, it's not IF. On one hand, this should receive zero stars. On the other hand, it does use the Z-machine. What is it, besides a game with a lackluster name? It's one of those "make the colored objects touch to get points" game, where the more balls of the same color that touch, the higher your score. It comes with a hall of fame with some scores already filled in. It's not timed, but you only play one screenful. There are no bonus rounds. It's a simple, straight-ahead, entertaining arcade game. It deserves some kudos for using the Z-machine to do it, and succeeds at what it set out to do. With that said, there are far better examples of this particular arcade genre.

Zork I holds a special place in my heart. Although I had played Adventure and enjoyed it, I fell in love with Zork I. Adventure was ultimately frustratingly random and obscure, but Zork I was descriptive, challenging, and intriguing. It kept you hungering to find out just what was around the bend, and what the next puzzle would reveal. If you factor in the state of the technology at its release, when moves would occasionally cause the floppy disk drive to whir, you can get a feel for the fun that playing IF was then. You never knew just what would happen when that disk whirred.

In Zork I, you are an adventurer and the world is your oyster. While the plot may be tired by now, when Zork I was released, this was novel. Blame the following deluge of rip-offs and hacks for the decline of the cave crawl genre, not one of the founding games. Though to be fair, a goodly part of Zork I occurs outside, so the "cave crawl" genre is a rough fit.

The prose is evocative without being excessively detailed and by turns slyly humorous; the puzzles are easy-to-medium in difficulty; the parser is head-and-shoulders above Adventure's, which is to say just a step or two behind modern Inform. Also worth noting is that Zork I encourages you to explore by not introducing movement-blocking puzzles right away. This is a key factor in the sense of immersion.

While Adventure opened the world of IF to many, it was Zork I that made people want to stay. If you have never played this game, play it by all means.

Fine-Tuned evokes the feeling of an early radio drama that doesn't take itself completely seriously. Narrative, puzzle, and the right amount of prose drive the game. It proves to be an evocative and engaging, but the author wasn't satisfied with that achievement alone. He also throws multiple perspectives into the mix, alternating main characters with each episode. A few bugs remain unsquashed but none of them prevent you from reaching the final (and very difficult) puzzle. In short, memorable characters, uncommon atmosphere, and medium-difficulty puzzles add up to unfading fun. (I would rate it 4.5 stars had the rating system allowed.)

Are you ready to be clobbered over the head with the 2x4 of modern man-hating female disparagement? If so, Galatea is the game for you. Many have crowed about the interactivity, but interactivity with a self-righteous female, statue or no, is not enjoyable. (Modern spineless males will enjoy the exercise in self-torture, doubtless.) Because the game goals are so vague, there's no real way to advance to the next state of conversation without playing an updated version of "guess the verb" called "guess the conversation topic". Thirty minutes of futile guesswork was enough for me. Galatea gets two stars for coding genius alone. As far as games go, it's a dud.

Honestly, that's the only way to sum up this game. While it features well-written prose and probably the best use of weather in IF, the puzzles utterly destroy any enjoyment you can wrench from the game. Not only are they timed puzzles, but feedback is wholly missing. Result: you die over and over again until you finally throw your hands up and find something more humane. It's a shame that the prose is wedded to such monstrously unfair puzzles.

One of the effects interactive fiction generates a strong feeling of "being there", due to the description of your environs and your interaction with them. The Act of Misdirection features stunningly evocative prose; you never doubt that you are in turn-of-the-century London, seen through the veil of Victorian horror. The game also features a flashback, which is a rarity in IF. However, there are no choices in this game. It is more like you fumble around where interaction is required until you discover "the" answer, which allows the plot to continue. The ending is satisfying in a cathartic way, but still feels hollow. It's like someone is reading you an engrossing story where you have to guess what comes next at certain junctures. Fiction it is; interactive, it is not.

Games like Spider and Web are why I've never understood the wide appeal that the author commands. At the beginning, the mechanism that drives the game lures you in. "This is different," you think. But then you realize that the entire game works that way, and the spartan storytelling style provides neither clues nor room for exploration. If you don't get every single detail right (and you have no way of determining the details ahead of time), you're sent back to start over. So you start over, and over, and over again.

I'd rather spend my free time any other way than being told, "You're wrong. Try again" repeatedly. That's just not my idea of fun.