My Patapon problem

It saddens me to admit that I haven't made the most of the PSP I purchased early last year. Actually, I've barely made use of my portable PlayStation at all--as I've yet to buy a single game for it.

One of the games I've been meaning to buy for it--along with the Final Fantasy remakes, the Holy Invasion of Privacy, Badman! titles, Half-Minute Hero and bunch of others--is Patapon.

The good news is that I've dragged my feet for so long that I could pick up this strategic rhythm game--or is it a rhythmic strategy game?--quite cheaply at this point. The bad news, however, is that while I've been dragging my feet, the folks at Sony have released not one but two Patapon sequels.



OK, so the second sequel (called, imaginatively enough, Patapon 3) hasn't yet hit the streets in the States, but it will soon--on April 12th, in fact. (Surprisingly, it won't be released in Sony's home country until April 28th.)

That doesn't mean much to me at the moment--why would I care about the series' third game when I've yet to buy the first?--but I realize it could mean something to those of you who have experienced (and hopefully enjoyed) the original Patapon.

If that includes you, you'll likely rejoice when you hear that both the UMD and PSN download versions of Patapon 3 will carry price tags of just $19.99. (Pre-order the former here.)

'Size doesn't matter if you can perfect the Rising Dragon Punch'

London-based designer Aled Lewis (aka fatheed) recently posted the image below--and the comment above--to his Flickr photostream and to his tumblog, Aled Knows Best.

I'm also quite fond of "Enhancement" and "Fashion Faux Pas." And "Private Time." Oh, hell, I like everything Lewis has created so far.

The Great Gaymathon Review #7: Mizubaku Daibouken (PC Engine)

Game: Mizubaku Daibouken

Genre: Platformer

Developer: Taito 

Publisher: Taito

System: PC Engine (HuCard)

Release date: 1992

One way to translate the Japanese title of this game into English, or so I've been told, is to call it Water Bomb Adventure. That's certainly an apt way to describe this quirky little platformer, which stars a platypus--yeah, I know the folks at Taito say he's a hippopotomus, but there's no way the paunchy protagonist is anything other than an Ornithorhynchus anatinus--who throws, you guessed it, giant balls of water at innumerable foes as he waddles through levels pulled from the pages Platformers for Dummies. His journey--to save his kidnapped girlfriend, naturally--begins easily enough, with straightforward stages filled to the brim with enemies who put up little to no resistance, but it rapidly rachets up in intensity. That's OK, though, because the Parasol Stars-esque sights you'll see and the hummable tunes you'll hear along the way help make it all worthwhile--assuming, of course, you didn't drop too much cash to procure your copy of the game (an unfortunately all-too-common occurrence given its Bubble Bobble connection).

See also: Previous 'Great Gaymathon' posts

8-bit terrariums

When "Game Over IV," the show at Giant Robot San Francisco that "pays homage to the continuous evolution of videogames and their massive influence on popular culture," opens on March 4 (it runs through the end of the month), it will include a trio of "8-bit terrariums" created by Philadelphia-based artist Jude Buffum.

The terrarium below, "Toadstool Terrarium," was inspired by Super Mario Bros., while Buffum's other 8-bit terrariums--"Belmont Terrarium" and "Hyrule Terrarium"--were inspired by Castlevania and The Legend of Zelda, respectively.

On his blog, Buffum explains what prompted these earthly endeavors.

"I am actually a bit of a terrarium enthusiast myself, so this idea sort of evolved naturally from that interest. I see a lot of similarities between video games and terrariums; they are both closed systems that seek to nurture and sustain an entire world within a small viewing space. And I get equal enjoyment out of interacting and watching both."

Prints of each of the above-mentioned pieces can be purchased--for between $40 and $70--from Buffum's online shop.

Why I 'collect' games

A recent post over at famicomblog.blogspot.com has prompted me to consider why I "collect" games. (I put quotes around the word collect, by the way, because I don't think of what I do as collecting. Or, at least, my intent isn't to be a collector.)

It's obvious enough to me why I buy, collect or whatever-else-you-want-to-call-it current-gen games and systems. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to play games like ClaDun: This is an RPG, Dragon Quest IX or Kirby's Epic Yarn--as, with few exceptions, none of the aforementioned games can be played on a computer via emulation.

The same is true for most last-gen games and systems. Although it's easy enough to play GameBoy Advance games via emulation these days, it isn't so easy to play, say, GameCube or PS2 titles that way. (I know emulators exist for both of those consoles, but as far as I'm aware rather high-end computers are required in order for them to operate at acceptable levels.) As such, there's also no question as to why I continue to buy games for those systems.

None of the above can be said of earlier generations of games and systems, though; after all, I could, quite easily, enjoy pretty much every pre-PS2 game ever released--and a few that weren't--by downloading and playing them, for free, on my PC or even Wii via emulation at this point. So, why do I still "waste" my money by buying them--especially if I don't consider myself a collector?

Well, one reason is that I like having a physical object that I can hold onto, look at or read, depending on the situation. (I also like being able to play a game using a controller that was intended to be used for said game.) Another reason: I like owning the systems and games I dreamed about owning as a kid.

Although I think both of the above are good reasons to keep buying systems and games from the past, I have to admit the second one gives me pause. Am I really buying these games and systems mainly because I want to hold, look at and, in the end, play them, or am I buying them because I want to relive--and maybe recreate--my childhood?

If I were to be completely honest with myself, I'd admit that, yes, some of my interest in certain systems--such as the Famicom and the PC Engine--and games can be linked to my childhood, but I don't think nostalgia is chiefly responsible for my virtual trips through the aisles of some of the world's best import shops.

Anyway, that's why I tend to buy, collect or whatever-else-you-want-to-call-it retro games and systems. Assuming some of you do the same, what are your reasons?