The Real Fear

Like most of the Switch-owning public, I downloaded a copy of Metroid Dread when it was released earlier this month. I have to say, it’s a slick piece of work. It’s got classic Metroid design and classic Metroid gameplay. The artwork is pretty, and the animation is gorgeous.

And, well, I’m kinda disappointed with it.

⭐⭐

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Heh, I should probably be up front here. This post isn’t meant to be a review of the game, though I guess I can talk about it a bit.

I guess my problem with Dread is that I don’t feel it takes any chances. It’s certainly not the revelation that Metroid Prime was, that’s for sure. Maybe that’s not fair to complain about; Dread was never advertised as some revolutionary take on the series. Even so, I had this quiet hope that Dread would be a new Breath of the Wild: a game that would stand before the Hollow Knights, Axiom Verges, Shadow Complexes, Guacamelees, and all the other indie wannabes that have sprung up over the years, and say, “Listen up, fools, here’s how it’s done.”

Instead, it’s just another Metroid. That’s cool, I guess.

The world is lovingly crafted, but it doesn’t stand out from the other rocky/volcanic/watery/technological planets Samus has visited. Honestly, I preferred the BSL from Metroid Fusion. At least it wasn’t just another planet. The boss fights are cool, but something about them just feels rote. Super Metroid may be old enough to drink, but it set the bar pretty high. How many times are they going to trot out Kraid and his belly? I felt more impressed by the bosses in Cuphead. The ballyhooed E.M.M.I. robots that stalk Samus through certain passages are too numerous, and encountered too frequently, to be truly scary. I suppose that, if you’re sensitive enough to be shaken by games like Slender, the E.M.M.I.s might give you a chill, but I found them more annoying than anything else. The SA-X from Fusion was far more frightening, and far more rewarding to finally stand up to because it appeared rarely. The methods for laying out an E.M.M.I. are also unusually complicated. Hold L, hold R, hold Y — jeez, is this really a Nintendo game? What happened to intuitive simplicity?

Now, here’s the thing: I can already hear the voices of Nintendo fans leaping to this game’s defense. I also know exactly how they would respond to my complaints.

“Um, this is the Metroid formula, duh.”

“Um, Kraid is a perennial villain and an important part of Metroid canon.”

“Um, you complain about the game being too much like other Metroid games, but then you complain when they add new things like the E.M.M.I. What do you want?”

“Just another casual who can’t handle complex controls.”

These voices descended on a poor reviewer at the Guardian, who dared to post her shrugging review of the game. I found it when I went in search of opinions that might match my own, wondering if I was really alone in my assessment. I’m glad I wasn’t, but I can also see why people who dislike popular games don’t speak up. The worst response to the review was probably this one:

The language here concerns me. “Safe to ignore this review?” What does that mean? That the review isn’t a threat of some kind? If so, a threat to what, the foot-thick consensus of “indomitable triumph?” Also, because the reviewer has a particular notion of what a short game is, all of her points can be dismissed completely? What fragility this reveals!

I know how you guys feel; you love Nintendo, you love Metroid, and you want to feel secure that your love is worthwhile. You don’t want to hear any criticism when you’ve already made up your mind. To instantly cast aside differing opinions, however, and finding weak, tenuous reasons to do so, is dangerous. I know we’re just talking about a silly video game, but I actually think this attitude is one of the reasons why our political situation is where it is. We can’t afford to be this sensitive. It’s just a game, guys. I guess the same can be said about everything.

Polite Society Strikes Back

What a great time to be alive! I don’t care what anyone says about surveillance, the nanny state, or the “cancel culture” — and just what the fuck is that, anyway? A culture that says, “You know, your behavior reflects poorly on the rest of us, so we don’t want you around?” Weren’t we always like that? I swear, these people only give names to stuff when it doesn’t help them — the ability to call out and shout down the assholes is exactly what’s been missing from life for centuries.

How long have decent people shoved their bile down while morons, douchebags, and jackoffs have thrown their weight around, acted like children, and expected everyone else to eat shit and like it? Unlike these walking scraps of semi-sentient garbage, the rest of us were taught that a civilization must remain civil to survive. We had parents who took us to the car and smacked us when we screamed in the store. We had people tell us “no” on occasion. We managed our emotions in positive ways, such as in the gym, or on the track. Most importantly, we learned that we couldn’t always get what we wanted, and that sometimes life sucks, and the reason that life sucks is that there are so many morons, douchebags, and jackoffs in it.

And by God, we can only turn the other cheek for so long.

I’ve come to realize that there are two major types of people: those who take responsibility for their own behavior, and those who blame everyone else for calling them out for it. Well, with the glorious new hashtags of #karensgonewild and #kevinsgonewild, the latter folks are finally starting to understand that it’s not just the people calling them out who have a problem with them, it’s the rest of the fucking world.

It amuses me that the Karens and Kevins of the world are so mad at the camera-holders. They don’t like being held responsible for their bullying. The way they see it, they’ve been allowed to shit on anyone they like all their lives, so why is everyone getting on their cases now? It’s not fair!

Now I know that the punishments we’re seeing, such as lost jobs and ruined reputations, might seem a little extreme. Let’s get real, though: how hard is it, seriously, to not make a selfish, racist tirade in public, especially when cameras are rolling? If these people had just kept their mouths shut and walked away, they could’ve gone right back to their high-paying jobs, their prefab homes, and their 1.5 children, all while maintaining their fitter, happier veneers.

But no: these spoiled filth need to yap. They need to remind us — and themselves — that they are the superior class of person. They need to feel that their particular position in life has earned them some unwritten privilege to step over and intimidate the peasantry.

So I can’t help but smile when I read about another Karen losing her job, or another Kevin issuing a public apology, because of some “But I’m special!” tantrum that he or she threw. I have no sympathy for these people. None whatsoever. They needed to learn a lesson, a lesson that they should have learned when the consequences for failure were not so dire as they are now. I can only hope that these trending hashtags will remain more than just trends; otherwise the assholes will come crawling back, and all opportunities for the growth of our species will be lost.

What Literally Grinds My Gears

lit·er·al
/ˈlidərəl,ˈlitrəl/
adjective
1. taking words in their usual or most basic sense without metaphor or allegory. “dreadful in its literal sense, full of dread”
2. (of a translation) representing the exact words of the original text.

Any freaking dictionary

Okay, this is getting out of control, people. Everywhere you (figuratively) turn, there’s a thousand (figurative) morons misusing the word “literally,” and it’s (figuratively) making my head explode. I’d say we’re due for a refresher course, but don’t (figuratively) come at me for being pompous: I didn’t make these rules, you know.

The first problem we face lies in the mistaking of the word “literally” for a means of emphasis. People are using it as a denial of exaggeration or embellishment, the way they once used the words “really,” or “truly,” or “seriously.”

“Seriously, brah, I totally banged my sister’s ass in my dad’s bed last night” would be a correct (or least acceptable) use of these terms

Of course, using “literally” as a way to communicate that “I’m totes not joking, guys” is almost right, but still completely wrong. Please direct your attention to the most important phrase in the above definition of the word “literal,” which is, “without metaphor or allegory.” This phrase is key to the correct function of the word “literally,” which is to mark that whatever is being said is not, in fact, a figure of speech.

For example: if you become attracted to the gal in the house beside yours, then you are right to say that you have “literally fallen in love with the girl next door.” “Girl next door” being an age-old metaphor, the word “literally” correctly points out that, in this particular case, the metaphor isn’t necessary. The words of the sentence express its meaning without approximation.

Here’s another one: Say you’re doing some work in the yard, and you tear one of your gluteal muscles while reaching for the hedge trimmers. In this case, you’d be correct in saying, “I’m literally busting my ass out here!”

Next: suppose you get in an argument, and the other guy gets so angry that he swings a sledgehammer at you and crushes both of your testicles. Even the most anal diction-nazi couldn’t stand up to you if you said, “He’s literally breaking my balls over this!”

Finally, say you’ve just been in a firefight, and you discover that your car won’t start because there’s a bullet in the engine. You can feel safe in knowing that you now have full rights to say,

“The alternator’s shot. Literally.”

Leave it to Mike to show us the way. I hope what I’m saying is (figuratively) sinking in, because there’s still more to talk about.

You see, the other big “literal” problem arises when people use the word for its opposite purpose, i.e., to enhance a figure of speech instead of to neutralize it. You should never, ever do this, unless your aim is to sound like a character from Idiocracy. Observe:

• Unless you live in the slums of Ethiopia, odds are you’re not “literally starving to death.”
• The phrase “he literally said that with his eyes” sounds like something out of a Clive Barker novel.
• If you “literally never spend time at home,” then you are, in effect, homeless.
• It is impossible to say that you’re “literally dying of laughter” because you’d be gasping too hard to speak.
• For your head to be “literally killing” you, it would have to have separated from your body, taken hold of a weapon, and then found the leverage to wield it so as to perform a lethal blow. Of course, by this point, the separation would have already killed both you and the head.

So come on, folks: the next time you want to tell the story of how your online waifu literally broke your heart, think a little before you speak. Otherwise, your friends might mistake you for a zombie with a hole in its chest, and blow your brains out with a .32 special. The only good news there is that you’d then be correct in saying that your friends literally ghosted you.

People I Will Never Be Friends With

A partial list.

• Anyone who says, “Sup, bitches.”
• Women who think it’s cute to roll their eyes in pictures.
• Those who think turn signals are optional.
• People who find a way to bring Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump into any given conversation.
• Anyone who uses an anime character for a Facebook portrait.
• Guys who hate cameramen for catching criminals in action (it’s always guys).
• People who write horror stories and call it “creepypasta.” You can’t call it creepypasta if you’re writing and submitting it to a website, okay? You can only call it that if you copy it from, and paste it to an image board! Otherwise it’s just more bad horror fiction.
• Mud runners.
• Men who despise women for expecting decency from men. True, such women are idealistic, but you don’t get to despise them for it.
• People who share details of any kind about their digestive habits.
• Anyone who uses chat acronyms in everyday speech.
• A person who says “I’m on fire for God!” Well, a person who says he or she’s “on fire” for anything, really.
• Those who treat YouTube as a career option.

The Internet Critic Conversation

Okay, here’s the premise: Daniel (D) submits image/story/cartoon to website. Random site user (C) decides to leave a comment on it. Here’s how it invariably falls out. Keep in mind that this has happened to me many times, with many different people.

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C: This is bad. Just bad. Idea has been done a million times. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing.

D: That’s a little rude, not to mention unhelpful. You’re giving me no ideas on what to improve. Every idea has been done a million times, so you might as well say this about every bit of art on the site. Finally, if I don’t know what I’m doing, perhaps you could be kind enough to enlighten me? If this is all you have to say, then just leave it alone.

C: Well, this being an ART/LITERATURE/PORTAL SITE, I don’t feel I have to hold back on what I say. You need a thick skin around here, so don’t get so butthurt. GOOD DAY SIR

I then discover that C has blocked me from further contact.

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Now, I really don’t care what people like this think of my work. Obviously they don’t have any real opinion; they just want to break stuff down and feel superior to someone. As you probably already know, I get like that myself.

No, what pisses me off is the childishness of it, the lack of self-awareness. Don’t they realize that I too, am allowed to say what I want on these particular sites? Don’t they realize that just because they can say what they want, it doesn’t mean it’s going to go over well? And don’t they realize that blocking me because I called them out on their shoddy critique shows a pretty damn bad case of butthurt on their part?

I know, I know. “Just ignore them,” you say. Normally I do. The last time this happened, though, the criticism was leveled at the concept of the work, which I did not create. The idea belonged to the man who hired me for the commission. I wasn’t personally offended, but I felt compelled to stand up for my collaborator. Bear in mind that I did not use any offensive language. I simply said that it was rude to slam the idea without offering any positives. The “critic” then whipped out the tired old speech about their right to say whatever they want, and added that my art wasn’t even that good anyway (no details of course). Then I got blocked. It all fell out exactly as it did above.

The only analogy I can think of for it is that it’s like watching a grown man stick his tongue out at you and mean it. All you can do is squint incredulously.

You’d think I’d be used to this sort of behavior by now, but I’m not. My attitude toward humanity is like that toward a bad movie: I keep hoping that it’ll get better somewhere. It never does, though, and my mind is continually boggled. I mean, they can’t all be this stupid, can they? Can they??

I’d better just relax. Anyone have any Oxycontin?