Have you ever played a video game series, and the dates of release uncannily correspond to life events? I take this as evidence that I am of the gamer generation, not simply here during a time in which video games exist.
Man I wish I could have played that
Back when I was in Jr. High School, I had a friend who was obsessed with Fallout. He talked about it endlessly, and I admit that it sounded bad-ass. But, my family was not only opposed to video games (of the generation that considered them mind-rotting indulgences (you know, the Victorians complained about their children reading too many books–some things never change)), but we were an Apple-using family–back in the day in which it was considered counter-culture and what I considered cool, but therefore excluded from the PC-gaming community. So I never got to play it.
A couple years out of college, and into the beginnings of my disillusionment upon experiencing the workforce for the first time, I used my newfound full-time salary to escape reality. It was during this period, 2008, that Bethesda, having now acquired the rights to the Fallout franchise, published their first game under that title: Fallout 3. And, it was fantastic.
I don’t want to set the world on fire
At the time, something I didn’t realize, was how appropriate the narrative was to my circumstances. In a very abridged plot synopsis: a young man gets involved in some local politics, enters the bigger world in an attempt to find his father and the work he was entangled with to better said greater world, and in the process achieves his noble victory at great personal loss. How strongly that resonated. How much I wished that my own suffering was for some greater cause.
In 2015, Fallout 4 came out. By that time, I was married and had a daughter. This time, the plot involved tracking down my spouse’s murderer and child’s kidnapper. Ouch. It was a bit of a different emotional pull. Plus, this time the game’s theme involved trying to rebuild the world and take care of the populous, rather than generally ignoring or using them to further personal objectives. The protagonist, in these regards, was far more mature.
It’s all over, but the crying
Some consider me a part of Generation-Y, while others define me as at the older end of the Millennials. What seems to be apparent, however, is that I am at the exact age during which video games evolved from simplistic novelties into powerful forms of emotional media.
Since the vegetable garden got decimated by frost, I was forced to do something I’ve never done before: buy tomato plants. I’ve purchased seed of course, and the first year we were in our last townhouse my mother-in-law gave us two tomato plants, but never before have I purchased them at a store. And once I grow a plant, I save seed–partly out of a sense of self-sufficiency and the desire to maintain my own seed stores, partly to discover new hybrids, and partly because the germination rate on saved seed is significantly better than store-bought (not to mention free).
But with over half my tomato plants dead, and since I didn’t get the chance to put in a vegetable garden at the new house last year, this year I was going to have tomatoes dammit! So when the local Lowe’s started putting them on sale, I relented.
Normally I don’t get tomatoes until July, but here I am with a single tomato, growing from the heirloom yellow lemon variety:
I see you!
I suppose since I’ve recently depleted my canned tomato stores, that I can forgive myself just this once.
Tutorial finally complete, it was time for questing! First order of business: inform the widower of the Bile Hurk’s former first officer that she died in glorious combat…or I’m assuming anyway. If you recall, Kur’P Ud Wakk more or less stumbled into that scene, so the particulars of her death, beyond that the former captain dunnit, were left to speculation. Still, Klingons. I imagine if I told her family that she died like a bitch (like the captain), then the streets would flow with the blood of Klingons.
But I didn’t have the choice anyway. For an RPG, this game doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of decisions built into it. But this is an older game from a time preceding RPG character repercussions, so I had no choice but to be the good guy. Following the GPS embedded into the upper-left corner of my eye, I found this guy and delivered the news (yes, by pressing “A”). Button mashing commenced, because I really didn’t care at all about this guy or his reaction. Kur’P Ud Wakk’s short command career had apparently already made him incredibly callous. I left the Klingon to grieve, which probably meant blood wine…because they’re Klingons and that’s all I’ve ever seen them drink in any of the Star Trek series. Klingons have blood wine, Romulans have Romulan ale (which is illegal in the Federation because of some embargo, like Cuban cigars–this gets mentioned a lot), and the Federation has their non-alcoholic synthesol (although Picard has been known to enjoy some genuine wine from his family’s estate in France). The future of alcohol seems pretty sad I must say. I muse on this while I pour another glass of bourbon from my decanter.
I think Hugh Janus had to do this as well, which seems a little odd. Imagine an enormous Klingon runs up to you and tells you that your wife is dead, all the while someone else stands awkwardly close to your conversation, only to interject the moment you finish talking to tell you that your wife is dead. I’m no Klingon, but that might make me a little violent. To recap, it went something like this:
Kur’P Ud Wakk:
‘Hi, your wife is dead.’
Widower:
‘Uh, okay.’
Hugh Janus:
‘Hi, your wife is dead.’
Widower:
‘…Yeah, okay, I got that.’
Kur’P Ud Wakk and Hugh Janus high-five and shout in celebration, then take of running at full speed, because no one ever walks anywhere in an RPG.
But the Klingon did not get violent, and despite the nature of the quest, we celebrated having successfully completed an objective together. We had figured out game mechanics.
But the quest was not yet completed. For some reason, this objective was lumped in with the next: going to a warehouse, shooting some people, and activating terminals. So we do just that. Kur’P Ud Wakk skillfully balances pressing the right trigger and “A”, dropping foes with his disruptor. Hugh Janus, on the other hand, goes in ineffectually swinging a bat’leth. Kur’P Ud Wakk suspects he was impressed after witnessing his own mad break-dancing moves earlier and wants to show off. I anticipate a bat’leth duel between the two at some point.
On the way out, a bigger baddie shows up, which requires many more pushings of the right trigger. He drops, we leave the warehouse, and then we run around the station for several minutes trying to figure out where to go.
Which brings me to my next point: email! How many RPGs have you completing objectives, but you have to physically return to the quest-giver? And these are futuristic games. We have video conferencing and voice chat, yet when it’s time to send a message back, the player character is apparently incapable of initiating the communication. Like some old geezer who can’t figure out his cell phone and says “Fuck it, I’m just going to go pay this guy a visit. I’ll go jump in my Buick and drive 20 in a 45 while everyone else is trying to get to work on time.”
Eventually, perseverance pays off when we collectively explore the entirety of the compound’s physical space, and successfully complete the objective, thus officially completing our first quest together. I celebrate with a glass of bourbon.
I knew that when we purchased a house the demands for my physical labor would skyrocket. As predicted, the chores piled up, and my body, certainly approaching the end of its prime, started objecting by chronically hurting and refusing to operate at peak efficiency. But the body is a biomechanical machine, and while we as a people pretend to understand it way more than we actually do, logical reasoning and experimentation still apply.
I hate physicians as much as I hate hippie homeopathic peddlers. The two represent extremes: the former–an ego-maniacal sellout to the entrenched pharmaceutical overlord, the latter–a manipulative snake-oil huckster who relies upon contradictory medical evidence to spin compelling pseudo-science. They’re more alike than different, really (having the same motivator). And as I always say, the truth generally lies somewhere in the middle. Therefore I considered both positions in my conclusions. So without further ado…
Step 1: determine the source of the problem. Bones, joints, connective tissue, and muscles all suffer from physical punishment. Bones strengthen from impact and aren’t a problem unless broken (and men usually don’t suffer from calcium deficiency). Joints and connective tissue can strain and tear, but the physical therapy applied to fix this problem focuses on strengthening the supporting muscle. My muscles themselves were constantly fatigued and suffering tears. So with my bones not a problem, and the other points of concern all pointing to muscles, I concluded that I needed to focus on said muscles.
Step 2: determine what my muscles needed of which they weren’t getting enough. Presumably, anything my body needs it would synthesize itself from raw organic caloric input. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, and there are things that have to be consumed to be replenished. Since the size of my belly can attest to me receiving sufficient caloric input, I therefore concluded that I needed to focus on the essential, vital components. I know of two: amino acids and vitamins.
Step 3: consider the stages and requirements for muscle growth and repair. Like anything, it needs base components. Then to begin construction, it needs metabolizers. And of course, to operate, it needs an energy source. Starting point now defined, it was time to seek out something that fit the bill in the form of supplements.
Vitamins were pretty straightforward, despite what the supplements isle at the local grocery store might suggest. Like anything, casual interest can turn into obsession, but good lord people–they’re just vitamins. I did, however, choose a name brand. I had found out once from someone on the inside of the pharmaceutical industry that generic brands contain less of their reported active ingredients than name-brands, due to less stringent legal requirements. That right there is a red flag that the industry is fucked up. But anyway, I settled on a standard adult multivitamin.
What the hell is in there?
Amino acids, specifically essential amino acids, usually come as part of protein powder, I guess because amino acids are protein. As I searched for something simple and minimally processed, I ruled out anything generally marketed to meatheads. Also because I hate vegans, I didn’t want to support that in any way–which ruled out a surprising percentage of these supplements too–I guess because vegans are worried about getting enough protein. Finally I found something that fit the bill: brewer’s yeast–the leftover byproduct of beer brewing. It had the added bonus of supporting an industry I’m behind 100%. Is fungi okay to eat as a vegan? I dunno…stupid vegans.
So between vitamins and essential amino acids, I had covered supplementing my muscles with the extra material they needed for growth, repair, and production. It wasn’t until much later that I found the answer to the energy problem, because it’s part of an industry I also despise, and because of my general concerns regarding artificial supplements: creatine.
But as it turned out, it wasn’t the artificial illegal performance-enhancing jet fuel that the 90s and Mark McGuire had led to me believe. In fact, there is almost no evidence of long-term detrimental effects. It is actually a natural distillate (probably not the most accurate word), of animal protein. You can read Wikipedia for a more detailed explanation, but basically it recycles a certain energy transport nucleotide (adenosine triphosphate) that muscles use, while also allowing muscles to store more phosphocreatine, which in turn increases the rate of adenosine triphosphate synthesis. And because it’s the same energy system the nervous system uses, it also has the benefit of enhancing cognition, so win-win.
With this trio of supplements, I now had the building blocks for muscle growth and repair, the ability to synthesize muscular protein for this purpose, and greater muscular energy and endurance–which lessened the total amount of injury I receive from exertion while allowing me the greater potential for exertion. The wood is chopped, the lawn is mowed, and the gardens are being dug. And, I did it all without spending a fortune or taking something dangerous.
And this combo got a true test when the garage door spring broke and I had to open it manually. Turns out, according to the technician, it weighs about 400 pounds. Admittedly, that did make me feel a little like a badass. Vae Victus!
So it turns out that these inexplicable conflicts with the Federation are centered on this mystery prisoner that I had neglected to mention before, since really he was just another source of skippable dialogue, and what dialogue I did read didn’t offer much of an explanation since the game was wanting to keep this little bit of intrigue as a hook to get people to finish the tutorial. From memory, I’ll try to reconstruct a conversation Kur’P Ud Wakk had with this NPC:
Kur’P Ud Wakk:
“Haha, I have you in the brig. Why is the Federation after you?”
Prisoner:
“Haha, I will only answer you with a vague foreboding of future events, hinting at wide-spanning politics of which you know nothing about.”
Kur’P Ud Wakk:
[Something Klingonese]
Prisoner:
“I’m also going to escape, like 3 friggin times.”
I mention this now because apparently I was recapturing this guy and picking him up from a penal colony. So I do that, and we have another variation of the above conversation. Then I leave, hopefully to get hammered in-game, because the dragging tutorial was killing my real bourbon-induced buzz.
I was then instructed to go to another planet, which I presumed was the Klingon homeworld, because although I might be a bit of a nerd, I really don’t remember the name of the Klingon homeworld. I beam the prisoner down to the prison. In fact, the cutscene showed me beaming him down between two guards, immediately outside of a holding cell. He then walks 5 feet into the cell and the forcefield activates. That seemed unnecessary.
Now, I do remember from a TNG episode where they were beaming a prisoner between holding cells, and they had to drop the forcefield and energize at the same moment, because the forcefield interferes with that. But that doesn’t explain why I couldn’t beam him into the cell when its forcefield was deactivated. Star Trek seems to struggle to maintain their technological canon, like if you can beam into a ship when its shields are up, or fire weapons from a cloaked ship. I guess when things interfere with a plot device, the technology changes.
Anyway, prisoner delivered, I needed to talk to him again, which was another variation of the above conversation. Then, having received no further information on the mysterious prisoner plot, I got to leave the prison and enter the station proper. Now I was free from the eternal shackles of Tutorial, right?
Nope. Now I had to go to the proving grounds or something. Apparently, even though I had violently usurped the captain’s chair, I had to prove my worthiness through…more violence. Were the Klingons always this single-minded?
The proving grounds was a raised platform in the middle of the station, where during Klingons’ much needed downtime, in order to relax, they hack at each other with bat’leths. The ringmaster informed me that in order to challenge someone to a spar, I needed to talk to them. Thanks, ringmaster. You just advised me that in order to communicate intent to another being, to use our shared language to do so. I’m not sure if the game’s regressing, or if it’s just always going to treat me like an idiot. Then again, I did fly the Bile Hurk directly into an asteroid cloud twice, so maybe this treatment is justified.
First, however, I noticed a passing Orion in the 20 feet between the ringmaster and the ring, so I had to stop and take a gander:
If you know anything about Orions, it’s Star Trek’s excuse to show a bunch of green ladies wearing minimal clothing
That isn’t my screenshot, but it is a true rendering of a Star Trek Online Orion. Is that their work attire or casual evening wear? If the game mechanics allowed it, Kur’P Ud Wakk was about to bury his bat’leth into a giant lizard’s face and then go grab that Orion (they don’t).
Back to the sparring now. So, I walked up to any number of giant lizards who apparently just hung out around the ring, waiting to be challenged, even though I had to talk to 3 of them in order to find one open to accept. Guess how I talked to them? That’s right! I pushed “A”.
Then something unexpected happened. When battle initiated, I was given a mini tutorial inside the main tutorial, which explained how to use a bat’leth. And no, it wasn’t “A” or the right trigger alone. There were combinations, involving patters of the right trigger and the right bumper. I failed to commit the extensive list of commands to memory however, so when battle began, I fell back on my Soul Calibur experience, and with the deft dexterity of a master gamer, proceeded to button mash as quickly as possible.
Kur’P Ud Wakk responded by having a seizure. The giant lizard, uncertain what to make of the apparently break-dancing Klingon, must have figured he was simply getting served, for he stood motionless and made no attempt to decapitate his foe. That would be his undoing, for in the midst of Kur’P Ud Wakk’s flailing, enough blows landed upon the lizard that he tapped out. Victorios, Kur’P Ud Wakk returned to the ringmaster, who congratulated him. But, not one, but two matches were required for arbitrary reasons. As with the asteroid debacle, the game must have figured I needed more practice, so I ran back to the ring for one more challengee. But there were no takers. Apparently the lizards, not having the sweet moves to match Kur’P Ud Wakk, honorably declined.
This is about the time that Joe, playing through his own tutorial in tandem, announced that he just got an achievement for completing the tutorial, thus confirming first that it was indeed a tutorial, and that it was almost over. Also, the moment he completed it, his character’s isolated spirit form popped into a commonspace corporeal existence, for he could see Kur’P Ud Wakk, though I couldn’t see him.
To expedite the process, I simply asked how the fuck do I complete a second spar, and he advised to talk to the ringmaster again. It would seem that I hadn’t mashed the “A” button enough times, and for some reason I needed her blessing first in order to wail on strangers who have the audacity of being in my vicinity.
As before, I completed the mad skillz break-dance routine and emerged victorious, if not with a lessened reputation. One more talk (AKA pressing “A”) with the ringmaster, and the angelic ding of Xbox Live achievement recipiation indicated my own tutorial completion. I too immediately underwent corporeal transference, and in an instant I could see Hugh Janus–an alien of some sort, 4 feet in stature. And so, Kur’P Ud Wakk and Hugh Janus–an amusing irony of juxtaposed statures, became instant besties and for the first time contemplated a joint course of action.
