I’m not a very coordinated person, so I was pretty excited to be given a RPG where I could play and have fun without worrying about running myself off a cliff, as is my wont. Case in point: a few weeks ago Jeremy Pencil asked me to play some New Super Mario Bros for him so that he could record some footage. “I just need you to collect heaps of coins and stay above five lives, Tuppences. It’s heaps easy,” he said, giving me a pat on the head.

He returned half an hour later and I was still in World 1-1 with no lives left.

Yeah, I’m just no good at certain games. But here’s a review of a game that I was good at.*

Mario and Luigi: Bowser’s Inside Story (DS)

The voice of Mario, Charles Martinet, once described Nintendo’s Italian plumber gaming series as being joyous and wholesome – the kind of series that anyone of any age could appreciate on their own level. Mario games appealed to the youngin’s because of their sweet themes and vibrant imagery, but also struck a chord with older gamers because of the technical challenge they posed alongside the clever sense of humour that wooed our idle thumbs into action.

And it is on this note that I begin my review of Mario and Luigi: Bowser’s Inside Story. A follow-up RPG to Partners in Time, Bowser’s Inside Story packs a suitcase full of the wholesome, exuberant silliness that we know and love from the Mario franchise and transports it into the depths of Bowser’s…err…bowels. And stomach. And arms. And nostrils. And a plethora of other organs and cavities that one should never consider exploring in a spiky turtle. Yet here we are – controlling our favourite brothers as they wade knee-deep in Bowser mucus after the turtle himself accidentally sucked the inhabitants of the Mushroom Kingdom into his body – while also wrangling Bowser himself into tracking down the culprit who made him gulp down the kingdom in the first place.

The fun and wholesome spirit of Mario permeates every aspect of the game, from the cheerful leaps of Mario and Luigi as they run and jump up cartoonish veins and muscles, to the tantrums that Bowser throws when players control him for large portions of the game, to the energetic bounces and punches that the characters throw during the turn-based battles.  Playing as both Bowser and the brothers, you have the opportunity to team up all three players during battles but getting Bowser to suck his opponents into his gut, where Mario and Luigi lay waiting to work their magic on them.

Admittedly, it is a strange feeling alternating between playing as Bowser and the brothers, because there is always something not quite right about helping your foe level-up so that they can pummel you later on, even if said foe is a childish and exaggeratedly hot-headed turtle. In forcing us to play in this way, the game sets us up to play against ourselves inasmuch that we ultimately have to battle not an AI with pre-determined stats and skills, but a monster we’ve created through our own interaction with the game.

Yet despite the increase in difficulty as the game progresses and the fighting-yourself-conundrum that players eventually face, the game maintains its sweetness throughout. Its cheeky sense of humour makes an appearance at every corner and it’s hard not to wear a dorky grin on your face when Bowser’s ‘globins’ speak to you and mistake the brothers for their fellow globins.

If there’s one criticism that must be made, its that the game has a few too many tutorials to explain every action, item, and move, and unfortunately, this hand-holding business has become a standard affair for many Nintendo games. But hey – isn’t a deal breaker and it can be overlooked.

Bowser’s Inside Story is that burst of joy that our handhelds have been waiting for, and a reminder as to how more than 20 years on, Mario is still at the top of his game – kicking arse from the inside and out.

*Yes, I do realise it’s not hard to be good at a Mario RPG. My dog could be good at a Mario RPG. But this is not a competition. At least, I don’t think it is…

Not pictured: the mote we built to stop the water from the ocean from destroying our 'shroom.

I went on a beach adventure with friends. We made things in the sand.

Goomba is angry because he hates the beach and the sunshine.

Only the silly white friends got burnt because they didn’t wear enough sunscreen/hats/stay in the shade. The recommended amount of sunscreen that one should wear is one teaspoon full per limb, with re-application throughout the day. I am serious.

Not pictured: me yelling at the ocean to stay the fuck away from my mushroom.

After we made these, we jumped onto them and went home to play board games and eat hot chips.

Here’s an old bit of news that was once new at the time it went to print. I really should follow-up on it to see if anything has changed, but first I need to stop distracting myself and write my essays. Hit the jump for the article I wrote for issue #192 of the ever lovely Hyper magazine. Issue #194 is on-sale RIGHT NOW. I’m sure this piece of information will excite many of your in the general pants region.

—

If you think young gamers get an unfair rap, try being a young Xbox gamer living in New Zealand.

Across the Tasman, users of Xbox’s popular online network, LIVE, who had registered with child accounts found that they were unable to use their Microsoft Points after a Microsoft update in June. Users were also unable to make purchases over the network, or download games, trailers, music, or videos.

Initially it was thought to be a technical glitch as users were greeted with the message “Can’t retrieve information from Xbox LIVE. Please try again later. Status code: 80153065” when they tried to download content, but it later became apparent that this was a deliberate move on behalf of Microsoft to stop under-18s accessing mature content.

Anyone who had their Xbox set to New Zealand’s zone and had registered with a date-of-birth that the system recognised as making them under-18 years of age was automatically blocked from all Xbox Live downloads. At the time of writing, more than a month after the ban was implemented, underage gamers still do not have access to downloads.

In an official statement from Microsoft, it was explained that the company implemented the block as a safety measure to protect younger gamers.

“Microsoft is a responsible company and believes in working together with families to use media in ways that are fun, safe and healthy,” the statement, which was received by many media outlets said. “By default, under 18s are not given access to Xbox LIVE or the ability to download paid content from Xbox LIVE until an adult as consented.”

Users were given no warning of this when they logged onto LIVE, or when they purchased their Gold accounts or Microsoft points at retailers.

“After setting [Xbox LIVE] up, I could not download anything! Not even the under 18 content,” said Dorren Andrews, 16, who didn’t find out that he’d been locked out because of his age until he consulted the Xbox forums.

“The response from Xbox LIVE has been pitiful. After emailing them many times I had a load of different responses. My father rang the helpline in the USA and was told ‘my account had been banned and I had breached the terms and conditions and had no recourse; go to the forum pages’.”

Dorren is not alone. Many other Xbox users in New Zealand have received equally confusing responses from Microsoft. Oliver Lin, 15, who has been using the service for more than two and a half years said that when he tried to contact Microsoft to find out why he couldn’t access downloadable content, they could provide him with no information.

“I had to ring customer support nearly ten times in the last month,” he said.

“First they said it was government-mandated, and then they said it was their own initiative. So they lied to us. For about a month they would not even refund my Microsoft points. Then they said they would. Then they said they wouldn’t. Their support drove me crazy.”

When Hyper contacted the Internal Affairs department of the Consumer Affairs Ministry of New Zealand, we were told that they were unaware why a block was in place. Similarly, when we emailed New Zealand’s Office of Film and Literature Classification to ask if they’d played a role in the decision, we were kindly told: “The Office of Film and Literature Classification has had no involvement with Microsoft’s decision to ban its under-18 users from downloading content from Xbox Live.”

When we posed a series of questions to Microsoft to find out what was going on, all we could get was two official statements released by Xbox LIVE, which failed to address any of our queries.

“Microsoft has taken an initiative in New Zealand to ensure people under the age of 18 cannot access mature content,” the statement said. “We are working to limit access to content to the appropriate age group in New Zealand. This will take some time due to technical reasons. We are working to remove the ability for people under the age of 18 to add points until we can resolve this issue.”

For users whose points are already sitting in their accounts, Microsoft has offered to transfer those points into adult accounts, although this process has not been a smooth one.

“It took four phone calls before they [transferred the points], one of them lasting 30 minutes,” said Oliver Lin, who has 2290 points in his account. “Still, I’d rather have it on my account than a ‘fake one’. It seems funny that Microsoft tries to block kids downloading, then just tells them to make a fake account.”

“They are also sending me a free game as compensation. Funnily enough, it’s an R16 game. They even offered me Ninja Gaiden 2, which is R18,” he said.

By implementing such a block without informing customers before they purchase Gold accounts or points, Microsoft may have also violated the New Zealand Consumer Guarantees Act, which sees software as a good.

While it is still unclear what Microsoft’s plan of attack will be, it is clear that they have a lot of disgruntled customers on their hands.

“Overall, I’m extremely angry with Microsoft for not fixing this issue,” said Dorren Andrews. “I seriously want my money back for the time wasted [on a] wrongfully sold item and I wanted my money back for my Xbox because I can’t use it for the purpose it was bought for.”

Q&A WITH MICROSOFT

Or how we asked questions and they didn’t really answer them

When Hyper contacted Microsoft’s PR agency in New Zealand to find out what was going on, the response we received was…unhelpful. We asked questions along the lines of: Who decided to implement this block and why? Is this change temporary or permanent? Why were users not informed of this earlier and why have under-18 users been banned from downloading content appropriate for children? Will future Xbox LIVE users receive warning of this before they purchase Microsoft points?

Here are parts of the spiel they gave us that was meant to answer our questions:

“…All New Zealand content is still accessible via an adult account on any console, so parents can still download appropriate content for younger gamers to use on the same console, and for their own use. The update has had no impact on them chatting with friends online and young gamers can still enjoy the popular online multiplayer gameplay features.

Until we can restore downloads of appropriate content for under 18s, we are also working on removing the ability for people under the age of 18 to add points that can’t currently be spent…

Xbox wants New Zealanders to be assured that we take a responsible view on access to appropriate content and Xbox 360 has family setting that enable parents to manage the gaming experience in their home.”

A VIOLATION OF THE CGA

Microsoft may have violated New Zealand’s Consumer Guarantees Act 1993 (CGA) by banning underage gamers from using all components of Xbox LIVE. The Act, which treats software as a good, states that, subject to section 41 of the CGA:

(a) That the goods are reasonably fit for any particular purpose that the consumer makes known, expressly or by implication, to the supplier as the purpose for which the goods are being acquired by the consumer; and

(b) That the goods are reasonably fit for any particular purpose for which the supplier represents that they are or will be fit.

If the Xbox Gold accounts and Microsoft Points were sold to those under 18 and the customers were then unable to use the accounts and points for their intended purpose, then this must be remedied by the supplier. At the time of writing, there has been no word about how Microsoft will handle the situation, or if the Ministry of Consumer Affairs will be looking further into this.

Not pictured: me eating the cake.

Initially, I was going to write a review of Darren and Amanda’s wedding.

“Hey!” I thought to myself as I stuffed my cake hole with delicious…err…cake. “Since Darren is a games writer and reviewer and Amanda plays games and I, too, play games, you know what would be REALLY clever? A REVIEW OF THEIR WEDDING LOLOLOL!”

Yeah, I was pretty chuffed with myself. So much so that I rewarded myself with more cake. Om nom nom.

But then it hit me – this isn’t a game. This is real life. Heck, this is their real life. Am I really going to treat the lives of these two lovely individuals — whose love is more real than any fuck-tonne of pixels could ever be — as a game? Is this what their marriage is to me? A friggin’ videogame judged by visuals, sound, cake, and gameplay?

After much chin-stroking and contemplation about this ‘real life’ business, as well as the marriage of Daz and Da (who are the sweetest couple you will ever meet), I had an answer. YES!

So here’s my first wedding review.

Title: Darren and Amanda’s Mario-themed Wedding

Developer(s): Darren and Amanda

Setting: On A Boat, Darling Harbour, Sydney

Cost: I didn’t ask, but my estimation sits at ONE MIRRION beans. At the time of writing, the exchange rate for a bean is half a Tuscan tomato.

Rating: G. There was kissing involved, but if the baby at the reception could handle it then I don’t see why everyone else can’t.

The guests arrived in a spectacular fashion.

History

Since most reviews start off with the history of the franchise or developer, I guess I should conform and do the same.

Fallout 3 is an action role-playing game released by Bethesda Game Studios, and is the third major game in the Fallout series. Bethesda Softworks started working on Fallout 3 in July 2004, but principal development did not begin until after The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and its related extras and plug ins were completed. Bethesda Softworks decided to make Fallout 3 similar to the previous two games, focusing on non-linear gameplay, story, and black comedy. (Source: Wikipedia)

Then, after two years of courtship, Darren asked Amanda to marry him on his birthday and she said yes. It was nice.

Gameplay

A small and intimate affair, players were required to turn up to the wedding in formal/cocktail fashions and bring a gift. Many participants brought cards with them, presumably stuffed with Tuscan tomatoes. Tables were decorated with golden star balloons and goody boxes contained a Mario key-chain, a bubble-maker thing, sweets, and a personal note from the two NPC.

Food was a self-serve affair with a surprising lack of mushroom-based meals. This, however, was made up for with the presence of cake, but more on this later.

The maximum level the player can achieve in the standard game is level 20; this is increased to 30 in the downloadable Broken Steel content addition. With each level, the player can allocate more points to their skills and a new Perk can be selected, each offering advantages of varying quality and form. (Source: Wikipedia)

Ain't it purrrrdy?

Visuals

Set in the scenic Darling Harbour, Darren and Amanda’s wedding was surrounded by water, which was beautiful to those who weren’t nauseated by large bodies of salty Sydney fluids. The groom abandoned his gamer t-shirts and badarse leather jacket and scrubbed up nicely in a black suite. The bride wore a big, white dress. Both moved rather smoothly at a whopping 598256742369854×5 frames per second, which was previously unseen in a game of its kind.

Unfortunately, other players in the server had exposed polygons, but this wasn’t a deal-breaker.

Sound

The evening playlist consisted of music from videogames and anime. Notable tracks included the gym-leader battles from Pokémon Red and Blue, the theme music from My Neighbour Totoro, and the opening credits from Evangelion. Notably absent tracks included the theme from Street Fighter IV – Japanese and English versions – and the entire set list from Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

To make up for this, the couple replaced their “bride and groom’s first dance” with a “bride and groom’s first Rock Band jam”, strapping on a plastic guitar and singing Portal’s “Still Alive”.

Also, loud explosions.

Lasers

There were none.

OM NOM NOM IS DELICIOUS.

Cake

The lovely couple had a two-tiered Mario-themed cake that was chocolate-flavoured on the inside and videogame-flavoured on the outside. Videogame-flavour tasted like fun and enjoyment. Chocolate tasted like chocolate. Neither were poison or posed moral dilemmas.

Verdict

A delightful wedding enjoyed by all, except for that wretched baby that slept through the whole thing. How rude! The cake was scrumptious, the vows were nerdy, the bride and groom were beautiful, and the music was Rock Band. A lack of lasers couldn’t take the shine off this civil ceremony.

Score

5 Mexicans/6 Headphones

Yep, it was a pretty awesome cake.

I was originally going to use a photo of myself from when I was 15-years old and playing videogames at my friend's house. It then occurred to me that I looked like an emaciated sweatshop child who'd been dropped as a baby. So here's a picture of a cute blonde girl trying to clap her hands during some maths game.

I remember the best way to pique my interest as a child was to show me people having fun while they were doing something.

I started writing in primary school because I saw that my friends were having so much fun writing their own little novellas; I took up the violin because the virtuosos I saw on television always looked like they were having a lot of fun while playing, and it’s the same reason why I started playing videogames. One day I saw my older brother playing with our Famicom, he looked like he was having fun, so I wanted to have a go, too. And as I kept playing, the more he kept handing down games to me that he’d exhausted, and the more my friends would start lending me the games that they had enormous amounts of fun playing. So I got to play the games that they loved – the games that were special to them.

Years on from when I played my first game, wrote my first story, and played my first hideously squeaky note on the violin, my interest in anything can still be piqued in the same way. Show me that something is fun and enjoyable and I might just give it a go. And so it came as a surprise to me when IGN AU published this article a few days ago, detailing ways in which a gamer can get his lady friend interested in videogames.

No, scrap that. I wasn’t surprised. I was appalled. I felt like I was reading a guide from the 1940s on how to welcome women into the workforce, and by the end of it I was expecting a dot point suggesting: “Girls like to maintain their appearance, so make sure you encourage your lady to have breaks while she’s gaming so that she can moisturise her hands – she wouldn’t appreciate having her thumbs callused by the D-Pad!” Thankfully, such a dot point did not exist, but the ones that did exist were pretty darn patronising.

I like to think that girls have taste and a brain. I like to think that they can be moved by a story that is told well, engaged by gameplay that is mesmerising, laugh at humour within a game that is well constructed and executed, and become attached to vast virtual worlds that intrigue and offer the possibilities of adventure and exploration. And I like to think that any girl – or any person for that matter – can become interested in videogames if they are introduced to a good one.

So maybe if we want to get girls involved, we should show them something fun. Maybe we should start off by sharing the games that we love; the kind of games that stimulate our minds and take our imagination to places we’d normally struggle to dream up. Maybe, instead of coming up with a list of ten ways to patronise women and make them feel as though they’re incapable of understanding the kind of gaming that doesn’t require waggling, we should just show them how much fun we have playing great games, and then give them a go. They might appreciate it. I know I did.

Hey Kate, they weren’t breathing down the necks of girls because they’re not used to being around the ladeez. They were just trying to absorb the other guests’ T-Energy.

Racism is really bad in the areas marked by the flags. It's also pretty bad in areas that aren't marked by the flags.

This review was published in issue 9 of Pixel Hunt, an online magazine put together by my freelance colleagues.

Charles Martinet and I in the GG office. Giant question mark proudly brought to you by rad production coordinators who work within the ABC. Neato Mario brooch by some lady with big, red curly hair who I once met outside of Sydney. She was making bibs or something.

Ohai, internets! It has been a while since I last updated, and with good reason! You see, maintaining a blog is a bit like using Tamilee Webb’s Abs Of Steel (from the same series as Buns Of Steel, but with an abdominal focus). The moment you take even the shortest of breaks from doing it, it becomes too easy to not do it, and before you know it you’ve left so much time in between steely workout sessions that you become intimidated by the workout itself and are scared to go back to it. So here I am with abs no steelier than before and a blog that hasn’t been updated in weeks. But whatever. LIKE ANYONE CARES.

So, aside from not doing Abs Of Steel or updating Zero Light Seeds, what have I been doing? Well, I’m glad you asked, Internets! I’ve been fulfilling my role as news editor at Hyper magazine, writing for a few other publications (there’s a Pixel Hunt review that I’ll post soon, as well as a review for Official Nintendo which I’ll post when the magazine comes out), interning, enrolling in French boot camp (I’m serious), drawing cars with faces on them (also serious), and interviewing the likes of Charles Martinet, the voice behind Mario, Luigi, Wario, and a squillion other videogame characters. He was heaps rad – perhaps one of the sweetest, most energetic, funny, and lively people I have interviewed for Good Game, or any outlet for that matter.

Anyway, this update was just to let you all know that the blog is still alive and I still have abs of flab. Because you all care, of course*.

*Not really. I apologise for the interruption. Please go back to your regular lives and I’ll ring a cow bell to get your attention when I think I’ve got something amusing to say.

It are ONE MIRRION PRINNIES! And by that, I mean four.

My friend Matty has a copy of Tekken at his house — I’m not sure which version it is; we always just call it “Tekken” because none of us really care enough to take note of the number. Let’s just pretend it’s Tekken 4. Anyway, every time we go over to his place to play on his PlayStation 2, we each choose a character and stick with it. I always choose the lady who kind of waves her crotch in front of everyone before grabbing her opponents with her legs and thrusting her crotch into their faces. Button-mashing with her tends to lead to victory, although Matty has assured me that he and my other friend, Morgan, have gotten really good at Tekken since the last time we played together and they can now both beat my crotch-thrusting, button-mashing ways. We’ll see.

How is any of this relevant? Well, issue #191 of Hyper is on sale soon — it’s the issue that has some dude from Tekken 6 on the cover! — which means I can now post my reviews from the previous issue on the internet. Here is my review of Prinny. You might like to read it, and then go buy the issue of Hyper with the Tekken dude on the cover, and then remember that the best way to win is to crotch-thrust like it’s nobody’s business, because it ain’t.

Prinny: Can I Really Be The Hero? (PSP)

When you have the coordination of an infant and the gaming skills of a shoelace, being given a thousand lives in a game is almost a godsend. Until, of course, you realise that those thousand lives are there not because the gaming gods take pity on you, but because the game is actually hard enough to warrant that many lives. Yes, the gods are cruel.

Burst forth from the womb of the Disgaea universe, Prinny: Can I Really Be The Hero? is a 2.5D platform adventure that gives the squishy penguin-esque slaves with pegs for legs and a penchant to explode on impact the opportunity to step out of the shadow of their demon overlords. And, in true Nippon Ichi fashion, the cuteness factor (which is incredibly high – I mean, squishy penguins? Excuse me while I implode) barely conceals the arse-kicking nature of the game – and by that, I mean the game kicking the gamer’s arse.

When the mistress of the underworld, Etna (read: high-maintenance, moody, lady dog) finds that her Ultimate Dessert has gone missing, she summons her army of 1000 Prinnies to find the ingredients to make her another one. The issue of Prinnies exploding when they do so much as fall over is solved with a scarf that Etna conjures, which prevents said unwanted explosions. Thing is, there’s only one scarf, so each time a Prinny dies, the scarf gets passed onto the next Prinny. There being 1000 of them, you get 1000 goes before it’s all over.

A thousand lives would be fairly generous if it weren’t for the sadistic old-school game design that is punishingly difficult and will require many failed attempts before each level can be completed. It’s not so much that the jumps are too perilous or the enemies are too clever, either. It’s just too easy to make errors. If Mario taught us that jumping on our opponents would lead to the end of them, Prinny teaches us that jumping on enemies will only cause damage to your penguin friend – unless you carefully time a hip-stomp mid-jump, which isn’t the easiest thing to pull off.

There are six different worlds you must explore, with a boss battle at the end of each level. The levels will change depending on what hour of the day you tackle them; as the hours tick down, the stages will change and so will your rewards. Success in the game comes down to pattern recognition and memorising the moves of your opponents – there are no random elements as every action is a calculated one that exists to inflict frustration.

Yes, there is an abundance of frustration to be had, but not infuriation; there is a difference. The game demands a high level of persistence and patience, and despite the tens to hundreds of lives that you will lose on each level due to miscalculating a jump or mistiming a hip-stomp, it’s not something that one would mind because Prinny makes you want to do better without developing the inclination to throw your PSP at the wall. It coaxes you into having just that one more go and, unlike visiting the casino, that one more go might just get you across the line.

Prinny takes us back to the days when videogames were a lot simpler. It’s a tough game to beat, yes, and the music and voice acting are nothing short of grating, but through its simplicity, it’s a nice reminder that we were once able to have a lot of fun with the most simple of games, and that we’re still capable of having the same amount of fun today.

Our piñata travelled by plane to get all the way to Western Australia! No, wait, I mean WASHINGTON. Yes, Washington! Initially, I was going to use an image from Snakes On A Plane, but then I Google-imaged it and, on the first page, there was a picture of a woman getting her nipple bitten off by a snake. So I freaked out a bit, closed the window, and decided to go with a stock image of an adorable aeroplane.

Hey guys, Colombo (the LocoRoco piñata) has arrived in Washington! Here’s  a slightly abridged version of the email exchange I had with our winner, ShMerker:

Hi Josh,

Not sure if you read my post on this, but you’ve won the LocoRoco piñata! At first I thought the Boomer idea was crazy because SIF I CAN MAKE A BOOMER PIÑATA, but then I figured, ‘why not?’.  So I’m gonna try and make one.

If you could provide me with your mailing address, I’ll package the piñata and mail it off to you within the next fortnight-ish.

Cheers,
Tracey

Many weeks and a trip to the post office later, I get this email:

Just received it in the mail. It’s even more adorable in person. Thanks again for sending some awesomeness to an internet stranger. I’m not sure I can bear to destroy this guy, now that I see him up close. I suddenly understand why people are always blindfolded when they murder pinatas. Will I regret not discovering whatever it is you’ve filled this guy with? A simple yes/no will suffice, I don’t want any surprise spoiled.

Also, I took some photos of it in it’s new home: Here it is hanging over my desk. And here it is playing Geometry Wars with me. He isn’t very good at it.

It’s Colombo playing Geometry Wars! Wowzers in mah trousers!

Awwwwwww!

OH YEAH WATCH ME FONDLE THIS! BIG SMILE AS I FONDLE!

As I was playing this in the living room, my brother walked in, took one look at the TV screen, and the following conversation ensued:

Him: “…What…what the fuck is that?”

Me: “Cooking Mama 2, something something on Wii”

Him: “…Why?”

Me: “Review.”

Him: “Sucker.”

Yeah, whatever. Now I’m gonna get back into the kitchen to bake some cookies and then I’m going to play some pet sims on my pink DS, yeah? YEAH.

Those aren't my smiley eyes; I always look like this.

Cooking Mama 2: World Kitchen (Wii)

As much as some gamers eschew mini games and refer to them as being ‘too light’ to be worth anyone’s time, there’s no denying that a hell of a lot of people dig those things like badgers. There’s nothing like a good waggle at a party or violent stylus jabbing at the bus stop to keep boredom at bay, but at some point, you have to draw the line and just say “no, this game is a waste of my time and money”. Cooking Mama 2: World Kitchen is where I draw that line.

Harsh words, yes, and I can already hear the collective foot-stomping of enraged Mama fans heading in my general direction; pots and pans in hand ready to deliver a good…err…panning. But hear me out before you beat me to an egg-white omelette.

The Cooking Mama series has been so successful largely because it has been a genuinely good game up until this point. On the DS and even when it made its debut on the Wii with Cooking Mama: Cook Off, the game had painfully cute graphics, bright colours, and cooking tasks that saw you get stylus/waggle-tastic while chopping onions, flipping burgers, stirring soups, and executing other kitchen-type movements that resulted in some kind of virtual food appearing on your screen. This was all good and light fun to be had in small doses. Then World Kitchen arrived and, not only is it a disappointing follow-up, it’s just a disappointing game in its own right.

This time you create your own character and play as Mama’s apprentice; the only role the wide-eyed, Engrish-speaking Mama plays is in holding your character back when he or she does something wrong, like accidentally taking rice off the steamer too early. There are also new mini games (within the ‘main’ game) that see Mama jump in to rescue your recipe. For example, if you accidentally drop a beef patty, the mini-game will involve you waggling as fast as you can so that Mama can race to catch the patty before a household dog gets to it.

It’s a novelty, but it becomes grating when you have to play a mini-game over and over again, and this time round, the game isn’t as fun. The controls feel slow and cumbersome, and the game just isn’t as responsive as former Cooking Mama titles. In earlier games, you could stir and chop faster and it felt like the game actually responded to your physical actions, but in World Kitchen, it feels like you’re locked into an animation.

On another occasion when I was making virtual cookies, my character clumsily fumbled around trying to choose the right ingredients to use, wasting valuable time as the clock was ticking. I knew what I wanted her to pick up and I knew exactly where it was, yet, despite my hardest efforts to move the Wiimote in the most non-jerky fashion possible, the game just didn’t do what I wanted it to do. I cannot emphasise this point enough, because when you’re coming into a game as waggle-heavy as Cooking Mama, much of the joy is derived from seeing things happen on screen in response to your movements. I believe this goes back to one of the simplest pleasures of gaming – just seeing things respond to your actions. So when a game that has no story, no real challenge, and very little that is new, it needs to be spot on in the action/response department.

Unfortunately, Cooking Mama 2 just doesn’t serve up the desired meal. It almost feels like a step backwards – its former titles did it better, and this latest installment just feels slow and superfluous. Get back into the kitchen and try harder, Mama.

Working with kids* has taught me how to smother things really well. *I'm joking. I don't actually work WITH children. I just write for them. Sometimes.

I went on a postal adventure! (Not to be confused with “Going Postal” — I am far too well-tempered a person to shoot my colleagues in the face.)

A while ago Jeremy Pencil and I made LocoRoco piñatas and we decided to give one away to the person who suggested the best gaming ‘thing’ that we should base our next piñata on. We both knew at the time that the piñata, once filled with delicious sweets, would not be a light object and that postage would cost a bit. “Like anyone outside of Australia would enter our silly little competition!”, Mr. Pencil said, rubbing his belly heartily as he munched into his third pork trotter and whipped an in-bred servant that he had illegally imported from Tasmania. Being the crazy wild child that I was, I agreed and went ahead with running the competition.

After much deliberation, we drew a winner. And after even more procrastination, got off our arses and organised a jaunt of sorts to the nearest post office. Here, we were met with a few problems:

1. We didn’t have a box big enough to fit the piñata, and the post office didn’t sell boxes that were big enough, either.
2. We didn’t have any padding for the piñata.
3. I had mis-read the address of our winner. You see, Mr. ShMerker didn’t include his country when he sent me his details, so I assumed he lived in Australia. Sure, the address itself was formatted funny and had all these numbers in strange places, but I figured it must have been because he lived in a commune or something. I have mailed parcels to people in communes before. Also, the address ended in “WA”, which I thought stood for “Western Australia”. Turns out I was wrong. “WA” stands for Washington. As in, that place in the USA. As in, NOT IN THIS COUNTRY AND POSTAGE COST ME $AU85 AND NOW I HAVE NO MONEY LEFT BECAUSE THAT WAS ALL I HAD OH GOD.

Whatever.

We walked around Surry Hills like a pair of hobos looking for a box. A man at the local fruit market shop thing was kind enough to give us a big broken one, which we had to repair ourselves.

Mr. Pencil sits on the floor of the post office, legs crossed, mending a box. This disrupts blood flow to his leg and later, he cannot walk.

Then we taped it up so that it would be all sturdy and stuff, bubble-wrapped our LocoRoco, and sent it off on its merry way.

We used TWO boxes and half a roll of tape. The package itself weighed as much as an emaciated child. OM NOM NOM NOM.

We were reprimanded three times by the post office man for taking photographs with our camera phones, and then they took my $85 from me.

ShMerker, your piñata should arrive in the post any day now. Please let us know once you have received it and, if possible, send us a photo. I hope you appreciate it. If you don’t, I swear I will cut you.

xx

Tracey

What the hell is this thing even meant to be? It's bullshit, that's what it is.

I had to quit because I couldn’t keep it up.

By age 12, my frenzied passion for Pokémon was out of control – I was waking up at 6:30am every morning to record the daily episodes on TV, memorising the names and order of every Pokémon through rap songs, and spending every waking moment playing Pokémon Red and Blue. I may as well have been married to the franchise. We were joined at the hip; each of us never letting the other out of our sight lest we miss a special moment together. I lived and breathed Pokémon, only realising that I had gone too far when I started writing letters to my friends made up entirely of Pikachu-speak.

So, I decided it had to stop. Like a relationship gone sour, I needed to get out of this world – this marriage – that I had spent more than two years of my life in; this world where all I could think about was catching little monsters, where all my money went towards collectible cards, and all my energy was being spent telling everyone I knew how much better my exhausting obsession was compared to theirs.

I got as far away from the monster as I could, replacing Red and Blue with Age of Empires and throwing out my home-made Team Rocket costume, keeping only my original decks of Pokémon cards that were still in their shrink wrap (they were going to support me in retirement). That was, of course, until Pokémon Platinum came out.

After a ten year hiatus from all things Pokémon, I found myself drawn back to it, like a Venomoth to the flame.

Admittedly, I was apprehensive. We hadn’t parted ways on good terms. I’d severed our relationship abruptly and gone cold turkey, and the thought of allowing Pokémon back into my life was akin to re-friending an ex who had remained youthfully beautiful while my own appearance had morphed into squashed clip-art. I now had a job to hold down, a degree to complete, and a life to live – I couldn’t afford to reignite an obsession that would consume my life and render me incapable of being a normal human being. But my curiosity got the better of me, and before long I found myself gazing once again into the saccharine cuteness that won me over so long ago.

But something was different. It looked prettier and sounded far better than I ever remembered, but that wasn’t it. For the most part, the game was unchanged and still had the same aesthetic as the one I knew so well, but it just wasn’t the same Pokémon I had once fallen in love with.

There was a certain excitement that was missing; an excitement I used to feel whenever I encountered a new Pokémon, visited a new town, and defeated a gym. I swore I remembered there being a meatier storyline and a magical quality that had me hooked. But Pokémon Platinum had none of this. It felt empty.

It pained me to admit it, but it wasn’t the game’s fault. The more I played the more I realised that Platinum wasn’t a butchered version of Red and Blue, nor was it technically any less than its earlier iterations. If anything, it was a better game. But, like the relationship gone sour and the ex who remained painfully gorgeous, the attraction simply wasn’t there anymore because circumstances had changed and, more importantly, I had changed. It became clear that I only loved Red and Blue as much as I did because I could make a direct connection between the game and the cartoon series that I was watching obsessively.

Because of my compulsive cartoon viewing, the games back then never needed fleshed-out storylines because I used my knowledge of the series and my imagination to fill in the gaps. It didn’t need to develop characters because I had already become well acquainted with every gym leader and every side-character through watching the cartoon. Without the cartoon to supplement the game, Red and Blue would have only had a bare-bones storyline, a bunch of pocket monsters and a whole lot of grind with very little context to understand or appreciate it in.

After not watching the cartoon for years, playing Platinum made me realise that it wasn’t Pokémon: The Game that I fell in love with, but Pokémon: The World – the world that had story and substance that was populated by the manga, the card game, and the cartoon; not the The Game full of grinding, generic characters, and a barely-there storyline. I loved it for the complete package; a package that didn’t exist anymore because I no longer knew any of the Pokémon, and I no longer had a cartoon series to make me care. Without a reason to give this relationship another chance – grinding for eternity to level up Pokémon, spending a life-time wandering through ‘tall grass’ hoping to encounter something rare, and validating my existence through gym badges and collectible cards – I decided that this hussy wasn’t worth my time.

And so it has dawned on me that I have grown up and out of Pokémon. There are now people significantly younger than me who wake up each morning to catch the cartoon and get excited whenever they find Giratina, because that funny-looking thing is meant to be rare or something.

I’ve had my time with the franchise, and it was a good time at that. I’m too old for it now, and as tempting as a new Pokémon game may be, I know it won’t be the same because too much has changed. Where I once saved an extra deck of Pokémon cards just because I thought they were cool and I needed them, I now save them to put towards my superannuation. I’ve moved on, broken up for good, and walked away from the relationship. But that’s okay, because Pokémon isn’t going to miss me.

(This was my submission to the “Call For Writers” that Gamers With Jobs recently announced. I didn’t get through, but here it is anyway!)

Notice how the "E" and the "3" are highlight in red? As in, you know, "E3"? ZOMG THAT ARE SO CLEVER. No, seriously. I'm impressed. Nice work, mangers.

Oh hey, it’s that time of the month again! Time to rub the blood of virgins all over evil villains to drain them of their super strength so that we can launch our rockets at them and extract revenge for the slaughter of our families! No, wait, that was Dynamite Warrior. Sorry, I get confused between Thai films and Hyper magazine.

Right, so the new Hyper is out really soon and I did a whole bunch of work for them. I stepped into the role of news editor and wrote their news, which was fun. “But Tracey,” you say, “How can games news in a magazine possibly be relevant, especially when we have the intertrons?” Yeah, I thought about that, especially since there’s no denying that anything a magazine can do, a blog or any website can do faster. But can a website do it better? Well, yes. And they usually do. So all I’m saying is that I tried to make the news in this month’s Hyper different by, you know, doing some journalism. I conducted interviews, followed up and confirmed quotes, and got in touch with original sources to get a slightly different take on things. This yielded some really awesome results!

You see, there was a story that was published somewhere about a certain percentage of gamers being “addicted” to videogames, and all the blogs and ‘news’ sites were picking it up and republishing the same thing over and over again. When I called up the source to confirm some quotes, he said he’d never mentioned anything about gaming addiction, and went on to say that the media that did report on the study he conducted either misquoted him or never bothered to fact check. Whether or not this is true, I don’t know. But it did feel good knowing that I’d done my job properly.

“So, douche bag, what else did you do for this magazine?”

I’m glad you asked, faceless, nameless spirit of the web! I wrote some haikus expressing my thoughts on this year’s E3. Here is a sample:

So many updates

A bajillion blog posts

How much was real news?

You love that shit.

I also reviewed Prinny: Can I Really Be The Hero? and Cooking Mama 2 because I am all man and enjoy playing hardcore games with guns set in post-apocalyptic environments. There’s also a neato roundtable discussion at the back of the mag where a few readers got to play Call of Juarez: Bound in Blood and talk about it, and I transcribed that bad boy. I transcribed it good. I think I would make an excellent secretary some day. That is, of course, if I ever develop the aspiration to be a secretary. Think of all the benefits! I’d get a desk, and a phone, and possibly free cups of tea!

Okay, you should go buy Hyper now.

I don't know who this child belongs to, but I fully endorse the expression on his face.

A few weeks ago I was linked to this blog entry on Insomnia. At first, I felt compelled to write a response to it, but so ridiculous was the article that I couldn’t come up with anything beyond “What. The. Hell?!”… because how exactly are you meant to respond to such irrational, misogynistic vitriol?

I was able to ignore it for the most part because it was all too crazy for me to take seriously, but it kept being brought up in conversations that I had with friends and other game writers. The people I spoke with all voiced their frustrations at the piece not so much because they disagreed with the ideas in Kierkegaard’s rant, but because he did it in a way that now makes it impossible for anyone to criticise a female game writer without being associated with his hideous diatribe.

There are valid criticisms to be made about everyone’s writing, and there are plenty that can be made about the writing of many of the women who work in the industry. Not everyone is going to like Leigh Alexander’s work; not everyone is going to be a fan of Tracey John, and there will be people who don’t like Nadia Oxford’s writing. There will be people who find me intolerable. I think all writers should be kept in check and be called out when they’re doing a particularly bad job, but Kierkegaard’s method isn’t the right way to do it. If anything, he has been completely counter-productive because now, anyone who has legitimate criticisms of well-known female writers like Leigh Alexander won’t be able to voice their thoughts without conjuring thoughts of Kierkegaard’s needlessly abusive and highly sexist opinion piece.

So that’s one small step forward for Insomnia in their page hits for this month, and one giant leap back for games writing. Thanks, dude. You’ve ruined it for everyone.