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The Great Debate

Sunday, July 26th, 2009

This topic is, regrettably, a rather touchy subject that can boil the blood of anyone in the vicinity. It’s been looping through my head these past few days, and I’ve yet to really come to a wholehearted decision. Are dragons considered dinosaurs, or does their residence in fantasy negate any such possibility?

bb-coverThe Mascots of My Internal Toils

Before I delve too deeply into the fat of the debate, I’d like to discuss what brought me to this age old question. I was going through some of my old games recently, when I happened upon my copy of Bust a Move 2 for the Sega Saturn.  I grimaced, remembering the stupid amount of time I put into the game, but I was a mere pawn to its forces, and had to boot it up yet again. As I was playing level after level, I began overthinking the origins of the characters Bubble and Bobble, and just what it is they are. They’re undeniably adorable, but they’re also very dino-like in appearance. Their Wikipedia page refers to them as dragons, but I’m not sure I’m ready to concur. If I did go along with this notion, though, would that mean they weren’t dinosaurs? Or would it mean that they’re mythical offshoots of the dino lore?

It started off as an innocent internal debate, as these things often do, but I quickly noticed an escalation of it in the priorities of my mind. I thrive on seemingly unimportant questions like this, and derive possibly far too much entertainment from them. As it stands I’m still unsure of what to truly think, hence the writing of this article. Do you have an opinion on this subject? Do you think dragons can exist in the same realm as dinosaurs?

Super Mario World

Thursday, May 7th, 2009

Very rarely does a video game “best of” list get created that lacks Super Mario World for the Super Nintendo. This praise is completely warranted, and anyone with a concept of fun will wholeheartedly agree. Every level is pure, unrepenting fun.

Because of the simplistic gameplay, a lot of details tend to go unnoticed or tossed to the wayside. Everybody knows they’re saving the princess from Bowser, but the massive dinosaur motif is often missed.

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The actual story of Super Mario World is that Mario, Luigi, and Peach go on vacation in Dinosaur Land. As is the norm in the Mario realm, Peach is quickly kidnapped by Bowser. Mario, being the heroic boyfriend he is, takes it upon himself to cut his vacation short and traverse Dinosaur Land to save her. I’ll be the first to admit that this is a simple and tired plot, but when you add a dinosaur-centric world into the mix it becomes fresh and new. Just go down the list of your favorite games, and imagine them in the world of dinosaurs.  Silent Hill with dinosaurs? I’m in.

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According to the Super Mario lore, Dinosaur Land isn’t in the Mushroom World at all. Instead, it’s  a place in the pacific ocean. Being that I’ve been on the hunt for a new vacation spot, I am particularly excited about this news.  If you’d like a postcard, please let me know in a comment!

We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story

Thursday, April 30th, 2009

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As a child, cinema revolving around dinosaurs was the pinnacle of cool. Jurassic Park, terrifying as it was to me at that age, never ceased to wow me with the amazing effects and beautiful dinos. At such an age, I was thoroughly convinced that dinosaurs were real. How else would they be able to create a movie such as that?

Not too long after, my parents introduced me to a charming animated film called We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story. I grew obsessed with it, and what do you do when you’re obsessed with something as a child? You fawn for every single piece of merchandise under the sun. I didn’t get everything I wanted, but I did get the game based on the movie. Nowadays, this might sound like a not-so-exciting prospect, but this was at a time where games adapted from movies were often good.

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We’re Back! tells the story of dinosaurs who were fed “Brain Grain” cereal, causing them to grow docile and intelligent. As smart dinosaurs are prone to do, they leapt through time and landed in our era, where they traversed New York City and granted wishes for children. There is, of course, plenty of conflict and romance, but I will withhold from spoiling any of that, and it’s all kind of moot anyways given how poorly it translates to the game.

In terms of gameplay, We’re Back! is a platformer of the most straightforward variety. You jump over gaps, you fight enemies, you collect things, you travel right the entire time. In no way is this a bad thing, though. Simplicity tends to lend itself well to games that are adapted from a film, and that is certainly the case here. 

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The media wants you to think that dinosaurs are heartless creatures who have it out for you. This is pure slander, though, and We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story wants you to know that. Should you ever see a dinosaur, run to it. When you’re face to face with it, close your eyes and make a wish. I’m not a believer in magic, but dinosaurs have an untapped element of divination within them that is begging to be used.

Dino Crisis (PS1)

Friday, April 17th, 2009

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The survival horror genre is not exactly renowned for being realistic. For years scary games revolved around people getting trapped in a mansion and being pursued by something frightening. Finally, though, the genre was blessed with the key ingredient needed to invigorate anything growing stale: dinosaurs.

Any survival horror fans out there are probably screaming “Dino Crisis! Dino Crisis!” and roaring a deep-pitched roar of bliss. I wouldn’t blame them, either. The Dino Crisis games are excellent for their portrayal of the hatred dinosaurs have for humans, and they serve as an excellent reminder for how much work we have left until humans and dinosaurs can finally coexist peacefully.

Dino Crisis tells the story of a Raid team visiting Ibis island to look into the intel they’ve received about a man called Doctor Edward Kirk developing heinous weapons.  When they arrive, they learn that a serious accident has occurred; causing a time rift that enables dinosaurs to travel to the present. This concept of time-traveling may remind some of you of Back to the Future, but you’ll be happy to know that the dinosaurs lack hover boards. 

The game relies on surprises as a scare mechanic, and it works incredibly well. Opening a door to find a raptor poised to attack is nothing short of terrifying, and the amount of times this happens never reduces the fear factor of it. Having entered many a room only to find a raptor ready and able to kill me, I can tell you with certainty that it never fails to send a chill down your spine. 

Interestingly enough, Dino Crisis, now ten years old, is meant to take place in the year 2009.  What better way to celebrate than by procuring a copy and playing through the game yourself? The graphics may be outdated, but there are few better ways to fill your urge for pixelated dinosaurs.

A Foolish Endeavor

Sunday, April 5th, 2009

In the gaming culture, there are several games that are talked about so frequently as being terrible, they rise up to supernova status. E.T. for the Atari is one that comes to mind. Everyone has heard the rumors of its poor reception leading Atari to buy land in New Mexico in order to create a landfill and dispose of the excess copies. Superman 64 is another good example. Terrible controls synthesized with strict time constraints for missions ended up sending the game to the Island of Misfit Games.

There’s much joy to be had in the infamous, laughably terrible games that exist out there, but what happens when you sit down with the ambition of beating one of them?  I recently fired up a copy of Barney’s Hide and Seek in search of answers.

A journey more epic than the Oregon Trail itself

A journey more epic than the Oregon Trail itself

2:48 PM - The first thing I noticed is that you cannot pause the game. You press the start button, only to see Barney blowing a kiss. If you lie stagnant long enough, he begins what can only be described as a jig of happiness.

2:55 PM - I won’t lie. At this point I want nothing more than to give up. I have no idea what motivates me to carry forward. Perhaps it’s some ill-placed form of journalistic integrity, or just a product of masochism.

3:04 PM – I cannot even explain what just happened.

3:18 PM - Several levels have been completed now, but I’ve noticed no curve in difficulty. The linear format of the levels makes me yearn for the days of simplistic platformers, but it also makes me grimace  at such lazy design.

A truly unsettling moment of confrontation

A truly unsettling moment of confrontation

3:34 PM - I can’t tell if I’ve yet to even make progress. The levels blend together so much that it’s impossible to tell if I’m reaching the end of the game, or if I’ve been thrown into some Twilight Zone-esque void. Am I doomed to play hide and seek for the rest of my life?

3:47 PM - That’s it. I’m not progressing. I’m trapped. Paranoia is setting in, and an extremely unpleasant chill is running up my spine.

3:56 PM - A water level! I knew I was getting somewhere!

4:08 PM - Phone’s ringing, but I ignore it. There’s no time to mingle with friends, clients, or telemarketers. I’ve been given a mission, and I’d never forgive myself if I just gave up on it.

4:09 PM - Screw this. I quit.

A Jurassic Challenge

Thursday, April 2nd, 2009

Frustration is an emotion gamers are very well-versed in. Since the very advent of games, there has been reason to want to break something in sheer anger. I’m sure many of us remember firing up a gaming console as a child, inserting a game, and enduring the age-old battle of convincing yourself not to throw the controller at a wall. One game that often comes to mind for me is Jurassic Park for the Sega Genesis. Sure, it’s a game based on a movie, but back then that wasn’t always a bad thing.

My parents loved Jurassic Park because it would often get me to go outside now and again. Whenever I played it, I’d reach a level of anger that could only be culled by the fresh air found outdoors. It wasn’t that the game was bad; it was just impossibly difficult for my yet-to-be-developed gaming skills. Or that’s the excuse I still tell myself.

At the very least, I enjoyed admiring the dinosaurs. Sure, they were roaming with the sheer intent of killing me, but the grace with which they constantly achieved this goal was worthy of my childish admiration. In fact, I often chose the option to play through the game as a raptor, which admittedly made the game a bit easier in the long run. Being a human is great and all, but fulfilling my childhood dream of being a dinosaur was not something I could easily refuse.

As mentioned before, Jurassic Park for the Sega Genesis is not a bad game. It’s campy in every sense of the word, but not without its charm. Perhaps the greatest part about Jurassic Park is the lesson it teaches to people everywhere: fighting dinosaurs is never an easy endeavor.

No caption needed for this picture to be enjoyed

No caption needed for this picture to be enjoyed