Starting off a new series of super brief reviews/comments on games, books, and other stuff that I own or recently obtained. Today we’re going with Hylics, a great looking RPG Maker game, and Time of Need, one of my favorite critical books on art (yeah, yeah).
I won’t get super into Hylics right now, but I wanna say that the game looks and sounds fantastic. Mason Lindroth’s claymation/low-res artwork is fascinating to watch squirm around, and rarely are you even reminded that everything in boxed into RPG Maker tiles. It’s a testament to how far RPG Maker’s open endedness can lead to great things. The sound design is equally impressive, and definitely recalls Space Funeral’s use of Les Rallizes Denudes with its distorted, experimental guitar hums.
Hylics has something to say about Gnosticism, and while you don’t really get punched in the face by its gnostic hell world like in, say, Dark Souls, the use of real textures, bodies, and the motif of skin and transformation makes for a trippy adventure down transgression lane. It’s a short game, about two hours, though much of the length comes from how damn difficult the game is. The JRPG turn-based battles give you a decent amount of options, but players’ll probably find themselves dying frequently to the same enemies.
The writing is random to the point where it might be superfluous, and goofy NPC text is all over the place. I kept hoping that NPCs would start giving me puzzles clues or something, but that never really happened. There weren’t any lines of dialogue that stood out to me, but the writing should be taken with a grain of salt. Hylics is decidedly a game of beauty and aesthetic. Worth the couple bucks it costs.
I originally read this book when I was in high school because modernism freaked me out and William Barrett seemed to back up my notion that art of the 20th century was apocalyptic and that modernism was a problem that needed attention. Now that I’m old and boring, I know that Barrett’s not really saying anything radical, that he’s interested in sentence structures and telling it like it is about Camus and Nietzsche. It’s a fantastic read for kids interested in the development of atonality and Faulkner.
“Confronted by a world that has become meaningless, we cannot be convinced by rational arguments to finding meaning in it. But if life-giving energy flows we are able to create values, and we can then find reasons enough to find the world meaningful…Humor is a sign of vitality. So long as we can still laugh, we have not succumbed to despair.”
There’s a section on sculpture throughout history, comparing how men of different ages choose to portray man through art. I also like the cover ~
I’ll be posting new games to http://nilson.itch.io/.
GraveCamp is now available for free at itch.
Half up the arcade stairs,
the old heavy blue halo
crunching down on us,
earthquake roar, hurtle,
hurricane, heads up,
you speak in tongues on
a cartoon RPG religion.
Our feet stuck to wooden
planks, I set my fishbowl
drink down, sloshing pink
sludge, and repeat after
you three small mantras:
rhythm, respect, and
Title: Wall Street Kid
Mike went to a pretty wild flea market over the weekend, returning two NES carts richer: Monster Party, 8-bit horror classic and one of my favorite platformers, and, uh, Wall Street Kid…?
That’s a name I hadn’t heard in almost a decade.
Wall Street Kid is a game I had when I was very young, one of those used three bucks NES cartridges kids buy because the picture looks mildly entertaining (or just because we couldn’t believe there was a game about being a “wall street kid”). It was a game my brother and I would play very rarely, and only for ten minutes at a time, one of the games that seems like it might be funny to play for a bit, then quickly becomes too tedious to be novel.
It’s one of the few old games I never returned to as I got older, looked at it with new perspective. Would it charming, humorous, or just awful? Would it be worthy of my kind of “weird NES game” seal of approval?
The game was developed by SOFEL, a Japanese communications company that dabbled in Famicom and apparently Game Boy games before fading into obscurity. Their first title, Casino Kid (or $1,000,000 Kid: Maboroshi no Teiou Hen), which is based on an unpopular manga, was released in 1989, with a sequel, Casino Kid II, released in 1993. The sequel was a very late NES game, but rumor has it the game was supposed to be released in 1990 and titled The Prince of Othello…!
The games were obviously shoddy casino simulators, but had cool “JRPG walking around” segments, which I’m a sucker for. Mediocre sprites, but still cool. The garish checkered floor is to die for.
The US Wall Street Kid was released in Japan as The Money Game II: Kabutochou no Kiseki, and it was a sequel to SOFEL’s earlier game, The Money Game. The game’s scant Wikipedia article has this to say:
covered in ketchup and mustard
grassy motherfucker with crab’s claws
claws and grovels into the dirt behind the abandoned
contemporary art building
the old El Nido Triangle,
unburies his – 100th bible – while
buskers and babes watch from the misty sidelines
moaning and sighing in sign,
moist waffles, moist in the puddles of mud–
Steven Howard Jr., now Sony
executive Dr. “Crab” Spencer,
freelance child psychologist,
who reduced his whole train staff into
biblical pages, paces around the office,
its sandy beaches vacant and holy,
et al. Read More
Title: Monster Party
Developer: Human Entertainment
Oh, boy. Here we go.
Monster Party was released for the NES by Bandai in 1989 in the US, developed by Human Entertainment (of Kabuki Quantum Fighter fame, maybe). For whatever reason, Bandai never released the game in Japan, and this only adds to the obscurity and mystery surrounding the game.
Monster Party isn’t like most other NES games. It holds something of a cult status among retro gamers and collectors, both due to the game’s mysterious history and for its…aesthetic. While remaining in its average NES platformer obscurity, Monster Party saw a rise in its cult status after a series of Japanese Famicom prototype screenshots surfaced in the early 2000s on the internet.
Let this be said first: Monster Party is a very strange game, a creepy, mystical video game. It’s tough to gauge how popular the game was initially (apparently it received a 6.25/10 from Nintendo Power), and I can’t comment on how the game would be remembered if the prototype screenshots never showed up, but I can say this much: the few, grainy Japanese images revealed that Monster Party was originally much darker, bloodier, visually complex, and more pop culturally-oriented than the already completely strange game we played when we were younger.
“Can you spell that? I can’t
Think today…” so the receipt girl
Tears a receipt and writes ZANZIBAR
On it, warning me it only works sometimes
I leave a Hello Kitty visual cue on the table
As per the rules of having your coffee and
Drinking it too but Boy #2 seems to not notice
And the code doesn’t work and I rode
The number 2 bus all the way here and my
Sexual desires are comprehensively reviled
And I probably find myself revolting My only
Remaining option is to send hand-drawn
Pictures of my ballsack to some kid’s Gameboy
While I’m driving oh! if only I had a car so
Please, Please let me have another chance
I’ll even do the whole interview again
I swear it’ll go better this time I
Swear I am Fresh to Death I swear
A short game I made in RPG Maker 2003 (works in PC only, I’m SO sorry) about Pancake, my son. He wrote most of the dialogue while we watched Steve Wilkos and Maury. I mostly used only the RTP assets just for the fun!
It’s sort of a neo-noir story about – stuffed animals -.
And yeah, Mike, it’s over when you beat the cyclops!
WEST CAMPUS, out of my league:
far below us, kids our age scramble around a
frozen vodka fountain in the dim plaza,
their laughter immense but barely audible, their
search for eternal youth lengthy and sudden.
Stoic, he closes his blinds until only
an orange halo filters in from outside,
illuminating these Oxford sheets,
, enveloped in pale high school musk,
the occasional wool sock.
A soft whir hums out of the play
station and that
green beep, tumbling disc spinning
on its axis,
a chair dragged across the chipped floor
accompanies his bright mumbling. For
a moment, all is chthonic,
teenagers holding their breaths…
the shattering rumble of the
start screen floating mid-flight
somewhere beyond iridescent
narrows into the harsh glare
of the tv screen,
bouncing back images of a lone idiot
dashing down Kowloon descending into Hell.
“Should I kill
Four tribal hollowed-
out men stand static in treetops, prostrated,
unconcerned, diseased, and in prayer,
my eyes droop for hours, my brain,
steady, my dick–
“Do you want to go to latenight?”
“What time is it?”
In a foreign eatery with gravel floors, my
head on the table, dizzy, he pours us seltzer
and we make fun of and adore four
prostitute girls, je t’adore, je t’aime then
like soil we return to his dorm room. My
sneakers are still wet and
we’re both wearing matching gray jackets.
In the underground tunnels, hooded gypsies
carry baskets of laundry on their heads and
winter’s howl throttles
thin black window panes and I
shiver and swallow my gum
and finger for my phone and remember at 3am I’ll
be out there, dashing and
cursing my luck.