Microtransactions… Mega Problem

When I was younger, when a game was released, the only payment a player would be responsible for was buying the disc. However, as I began to play more mature games like Call of Duty, I noticed that a few times per year there would be DLC (Downloadable Content) releases in which new maps would be released. While purchasing these releases was not mandatory, those that did not purchase the DLC maps would not be able to play with those who did purchase them, essentially splitting the player base in half. I always did purchase the DLC maps as they weren’t too expensive and I looked forward to new in-game content. While the Call of Duty franchise was not the first game to include in-game purchases, my experience with Downloadable Content first came while playing COD and games released by EA Sports such as NHL and FIFA. 

Although the splitting up of the player base in Call of Duty was irritating, a player’s in-game performance was never directly influenced by anything that was available for purchase. That is, until they decided to release “supply drops” in 2014’s Advanced Warfare. Supply drops were initially earned in game; these drops included variants of weapons that provided players with a distinct advantage, as many variants included increased damage and range or significant improvements in mobility speed. While the release of supply drops received a bit more backlash than Activision (developers of Call of Duty) expected, because supply drops were originally not available to be purchased, the backlash was limited. However, Activision ultimately decided to release advanced supply drops which were available for purchase and provided significantly higher odds of obtaining the best weapons in the game. 

(Call of Duty Advanced Warfare unfair weapon variant and Advanced Supply Drops in the Marketplace)

Unlike the original supply drops, this move by Activision caused extreme damage to the game, as many players felt that the integrity of the game had been lost. Now, the skill gap was smaller, and the game became “pay to win.” Although I think the community overreacted to these supply drops since the weapons weren’t that much better than the originals, Call of Duty’s player base began to decline at a rapid rate. Call of Duty seemed as though it would be a dead game so long as supply drops and microtransactions were a part of the game. To combat this issue, Activision made supply drops that include strictly cosmetic items that did not impact game performance. Although this change was positive, Call of Duty has never been the same game as it was when microtransactions were limited to DLC maps. 

While Call of Duty may have ruined the game by way of microtransactions, one game that enhanced the player experience through the use of microtransactions is CS:GO. CS:GO also allows players to purchase skins for real money; however, these skins hold monetary value and can even be resold on the marketplace. Through microtransactions, CS:GO has not only preserved the longevity of their game, but also created an entire community of players who are obsessed with collecting and trading. While no game that includes microtransactions will ever be perfect in my opinion, I think CS:GO does an amazing job of integrating microtransactions as an optional enhancement to game enjoyment. Some of these skins have even gone on to sell for tens of thousands of dollars, even hitting prices well over $100,000.

(This CS:GO knife skin is valued at over $1 million, and its owner has turned down offers over this price tag) 

While my complaints regarding microtransactions seem to be very minor as they only affected my enjoyment of the game, there are more tangible reasons as to why microtransactions are more harmful than good. One thing I have noticed in microtransactions is that there are two specific types, both of which ruin the experience: microtransactions that provide an advantage or those that look to exploit children. 

In my experience of playing games, since Call of Duty, I have mostly seen the first type of microtransactions in sports games, specifically FIFA. For example, when I was in high school, I watched one of my good friends become addicted to opening FIFA Ultimate Team packs just to gain an advantage against other players. When it was all said and done, he had spent around $2,000 in under 6 months, causing a long discussion with his parents. Again, microtransactions of this type may be annoying to those that do not wish to spend money, yet they can also be extremely problematic to individuals, especially when the perceived in-game advantage they provide is extremely large as is the case with FIFA.  

For the second type of microtransactions I have come across, the first game I point to is Fortnite. Although the items offered in the Fortnite marketplace do not affect gameplay, the inclusion of pop culture icons and characters in game “skins” is directed at mainly children, especially when considering Fortnite’s player base. While this may be profitable for the developers of Fortnite, it begs the question: are microtransactions truly ethical? When purchasing from the Fortnite marketplace, it takes about 15 seconds for an individual to add money to their account and purchase a new skin. And with each skin costing roughly $15-$20, purchasing skins quickly becomes a very expensive hobby that young kids are most likely unable to stop themselves from participating in. Considering that the revenue from microtransactions is nearly $100 billion per year, I would argue microtransactions in this context are absolutely not ethical; however, there is no chance that microtransactions are going anywhere, as they’re just too profitable.

(Fortnite marketplace featuring Star Wars skins for purchase) 

As mentioned previously, microtransactions can be positive for a game; however, they also cause a lot of problems when overused and when they’re meant to exploit young kids. In the days of early Call of Duty and CS:GO, I thought microtransactions could help enhance games; yet, when a game revolves around its microtransactions, I learned how microtransactions could become exploitative and lead games to lose their integrity. While I’m not exactly sure how to fix this issue, I do think we need to investigate solutions, as it is typically more of a problem than a game enhancement. 

Master of Distraction

In my nearly 15 years of playing video games, I have seen how videogames can be used for good and bad. Emily’s blog post for Tuesday made me question my idea of togetherness, which led to me remembering the times during Covid when my buddies and I would hop on XBOX for a few games of NHL, Call of Duty, or even Fortnite. Man, those were the days! Just a couple of unemployed highschool seniors grinding away for hours at a time without a care in the world. It was like clockwork. Everyday. All day. The only decisions we had to make were what game we were playing and who was at fault when our team died. Although we weren’t able to see each other for months, I never felt closer to my best friends. Even when we hang out now, we still talk about the awesome moments we had together. Video games helped us turn a negative into a once in a lifetime experience. Through the first few weeks of class, I have redefined what it means to be together. While I initially defined being together as being in the same physical location, the past few weeks made me reflect on my experiences and realize that togetherness isn’t such a clear concept. As I mentioned in my comment on Tuesday, I now think of togetherness as the act of progressing in personal relationships by way of any form of communication. 

Another example of video games serving as a distraction came more recently following the loss of a loved one in November. However, unlike my Covid story, video games were a more negative distraction. For me, video games became an outlet where I entered a different world. Everything seemed like it was going to be fine. But along with these feelings of separation from the real world, I found myself neglecting the true problems that loomed over me everyday. If I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t, and so I did just that. I sat in my room and played until I was forced to face the real world again. And every time I turned off my XBOX, I was hit with a wave of realization that I was pushing off my responsibilities and placing myself in a virtual world–a fantasy land. While I am a very happy individual, video games were consuming my days, as it was easier to grab the controller instead of open my laptop and face the overwhelming amount of homework that we college students have.Though it is human nature to opt for play over work, I found that this feeling was exacerbated by my recent experiences. 

Based on my two experiences, at the very least, I myself find video games are best at a happy medium. However, what I do find interesting is that over gaming and overuse of electronics is not a very common topic in the media or really anywhere for that matter. Have we really been so consumed by our devices that we are all, quite literally, addicted to them? My screen time on my phone alone has exceeded six hours per day, and it’s only been increasing since I’ve added more responsibilities to my plate during college. While I don’t consider myself addicted to video games, there are many people around the world, known as “shut-ins” who live their life online while they remain inside alone. As the internet has developed, more and more “shut-ins” have appeared, and the addiction is spreading quickly. While the effects of over gaming are not as easily recognizable as other addictions, gaming addiction leads to similar symptoms of the more well known addictions, and as we know addiction can lead to isolation and negative effects on personal relationships. 

I completely understand that I’ve contradicted myself in this post by saying that video games can promote togetherness while also harming it, but isn’t that what the blog posts are for? Anyway, as for closing remarks, I want to encourage everyone to be mindful of the time we are spending on our devices. While we may think we are taking a break for a few quick games, an hour or two quickly turns into a full day away from what really matters around us. 

-MSC

Relationship-Building 101: Gaming?

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a big gamer. I mean, I’ve definitely played my fair share of games, that is if you include games like Candy Crush, Roblox, or even the occasional Call of Duty. I am by no means good at any of these, however, and I only began playing because of recommendations from friends or family.

A family friend developed an obsession with the mobile app, Candy Crush Saga–an obsession that soon took over my household. For the next few months, my mom and I were constantly competing, seeing which one of us could surpass levels at a faster rate and make it farther down the candy path. Later, after the Xbox came out, my brother tried to teach me how to play console games, but gave up when he realized I just wasn’t going to learn. When each round became difficult, I routinely handed over the controller to my brother in hopes of him passing the level for me. After I realized console games weren’t for me, my younger cousins introduced me to Roblox, an online platform that allows users to not only create games, but also play games created by other users. At every family function, six of my cousins and I would gather together in a room to decide which Roblox game we would conquer next. It seemed like there was a game for every occasion because Roblox housed a wide array of selections including obstacle courses, role-playing fantasy games, first-person shooter games, and even town and city games. 

From Fashion Famous to Flee the Facility to Superhero Tycoon, every game had an entirely different narrative and end goal. In Fashion Famous, players had 3 minutes to dress their character in an outfit that best corresponds to their given theme. Then players would walk down a runway for judges. Getting higher ratings on your outfits allowed you to climb through levels and unlock new accessories.

Switching gears entirely, Flee the Facility allowed five players to play in a server, randomly picking one to be the beast and the rest to be survivors. Survivors were responsible for traveling through the domain to hack computers and open an exit before the beast found and captured them. Superhero Tycoon, on the other hand, enabled players to pick a superhero and build a tycoon by buying droppers that make money. As players build their house and acquire weapons, they can attack other players and steal their gears.

I’ve played each of these games, and many more, for hours on end. Though I’m not a big gamer, I’ve found that I have connected a lot with people through gaming. Even if it was as simple as losing to my brother in Call of Duty, or basking over my victory in Candy Crush to my mom, or even calling my cousins every night to play Roblox, I strengthened my bond with the people I played with.

The competitive nature that games provide enables players to interact with others and provides a foundation for a relationship to further develop. Often, gaming has a negative stigma as people believe it reduces social interaction or is only meant for children. But, in my experience, gaming is what enabled me to enhance my relationships with loved ones by giving us a common interest through which we could work together or compete in order to achieve a particular goal. It’s funny to think that my close bond with my cousins can be attributed to a newfound Roblox obsession. If you’ve ever played Roblox or have any game suggestions, let me know and I’ll be sure to mention it at my next family event!

-Riya Patel

Mario Kart, Nickelback, and “Twilight”: A Theory of Art

Picture this.

It’s 3 AM. You’re tired. The last thing you want to be doing is arguing with your roommate, but you are anyway. This time, the central question: “What is art?”

You say Rembrandt. He says Mario Kart.

You say Beethoven. He says Nickelback.

You say Hamlet. He says Twilight.

“Dude what?”

“What.”

So you give up.

You go to bed. You get a bad night’s sleep. You wake up the next day. …And now you start thinking. What actually is art?

—–

That didn’t actually happen just for the record. (Well, that didn’t exactly happen I’ll say.) Nonetheless, that story does a pretty good job of illustrating the difficulty of defining the term art.

There are quite a few people today that have a very hard time calling modern art that which it is: art. And, to some extent, I understand the challenge. It can be strange to refer to The Night Watch and Rainbow Road in the same sentence. And even stranger to call Für Elise and a guy whose voice is gravellier than a Vanderbilt construction site crying into a microphone the same word (though I don’t think anyone could, would, or should debate the transcendent beauty of the Mii song). But that doesn’t mean something is not art.

Please treat yourself to this incredible masterpiece. The last ~5 minutes are my favorite so make sure to listen to the whole thing!

You might have heard someone at some point say, “History repeats itself.” If you haven’t, now you have. And if you have, know that person was right. Never has this cliché revealed its banal brilliance more clearly than in the history of art.

In almost every major artistic movement in history, the ‘modern’ art at the time was an object of collective, societal scorn. Take, for instance, the rise of the novel in the Romantic Period. Throughout its inception, the novel was mercilessly degraded by critics (especially novels written by women) for being less fine-tuned, less taut, and less ‘artistic’ than the poetry and other writings that dominated the mainstream. Now, though, we look at the novel as one of the most beautiful, artistically robust, and creative literary genres.

Similarly, the Impressionists of the late 18^th Century were ridiculed by their contemporaries for breaking from the classical painting tradition. Yet now, we consider some Impressionist paintings, like Monet’s Water Lilies series, to be some of the greatest works of art ever produced.

A gorgeous example of Monet’s Impressionism

In other words, it’s not uncommon to see ‘modern’ art demeaned or cast aside in favor of something better from the past. And now we are seeing countless critics viciously debate the ‘artiness’ of new art. But history repeats itself, right? Haven’t we learned? I guess not.

Historically speaking, though, we are a little but unique because we haven’t just broken from artistic tradition – we have created a brand-new form of art: the video game. The video game as form of media has been around for not even close to 100 years yet, but the artistry in video games is hard to dispute. Just watch the gorgeous graphics of literally any new console game. Just lose yourself in the lush symbolism of Braid. Heck, just listen to Delfino Square.

Video games aren’t not art because they are new. They aren’t not art because some critics say so. If fact, because some people say that, video games almost unequivocally are art, ironically. That is, if history has anything to say about it.

This isn’t to say that video games are in any way inherently better than Shakespeare or Da Vinci or Mozart. I wouldn’t want to make that argument at any rate. But we can’t dismiss them just because they’re new and just because some other people do.

Old art vs. new –
Rembrandt’s “The Night Watch” and Nintendo’s “Mario Kart 8” (picture from Nintendo.com)

---

So, what is art? I really have no idea.

But is ‘modern’ art still art? Well, I’m assuming so. But I guess we’ll know for sure in about 100 years or so.

-Peter

Make (AAA) Video Games Great Again

Being a business-minded person (ironically majoring in English), it hurts to me to see the state of AAA titles, or titles that have major (designer) studios and massive budgets behind them. I’m not going to try to make this a nostalgic, grass is greener type of post, but there has been an undeniable decay in quality titles. I attribute this to a variety of factors, the foremost being the push of financial interests overwhelming any sense of artistry for designers and storytellers. Many famous studios since the seventh generation of consoles (Xbox 360, PS3, Wii) have become “sell-outs” pumping out sequel, after sequel each year, releasing incomplete, glitchy games and selling them for $60 a pop. Why, you might ask, do they have the audacity to release half-baked titles? Because the seventh generation of consoles introduced the ability to PATCH games. Patching means they essentially offer online updates that you download straight to your console. In its best use, it fixes gamebreaking bugs that play testers missed, at worst it allows developers to meet their deadlines on products and just update it later.

From a studio standpoint, tension has grown between “hey, we’ve got this $100 million dollar game brand that’s super valuable, lets leverage that and sell it again, slightly different, for the full price!” and “hey, lets create something new and original, and see where it goes!” The operative term for this phenomena is risk.

Risk has always been an important facet of success in game development, people conceptualize all kinds of unique, wacky ideas, and generally if their team was behind them, they would get to work. Now, most big conglomerate video game companies have acquired these studios and have essentially told them to take far less risk, and to design titles that encourage the customers to spend even more cash on downloadable content. My favorite example of taking a unique idea and injecting old fashioned corporate greed is Evolve. Evolve took a unique concept, one player plays as a massive powerful monster trying to evolve (lol) and destroy the planet or kill the hunters. 4 other players pick hunters, categorized by roles, in order to combat the titanic beasts. Sounds interesting right? Check out this cool screenshot:

It’s a AAA title that had a lot of unique promise to it. But then, on day 1 (yes, ONE, UNO, EINS) of its release, it launched with approximately $136 in buyable, downloadable content for players in the form of new characters and monsters…

Developers all started out in the same place, getting into game development either out of the interest in the challenge, or true love of creating stories and entertaining the masses. As soon as the sixth generation of consoles, that is, the PS2, Xbox, and Gamecube era, each platform had incredible AAA products come out, these games were complete because they had to be, you couldn’t issue software updates to any game-breaking glitches. Releases had multi-year gaps between them, meaningful space to respect their current offerings, and to properly develop their newest titles. Now, we have this:

You really gotta ask yourself: what’s going on?

-Tom

If We Could Go Back In Time…

Text by A.A. BENJAMIN, Game Demo by JO KIM, Characters by SPARLING

Our fictional Once Upon A Time Machine video game proposal (<–see our powerpoint presentation here) had one obvious blunder. We had a cool game demo but treated our presentation as separate from the demo.

As we talk about hyper-meditation in this English New Media course, finding ways to merge the two would have been an opportune way to express what we’ve learned in the course. However, timing issues and mishaps aside, the highlight of this project was collaboration. Our bouncing ideas transformed into a proposal that mimicked gameplay and a fun intertextual commentary that made gaming attractive to a target audience.

The Narrator

We built a video game model off of the arcade style and well-known Mario Kart race track design. The premise of the game is that you can choose one from ten playable characters designed from H.G. Well’s novel, The Time Machine. You then race against your friends in your choice of eight vehicles derived from methods of time travel across literature and film to date, all with their pros and cons. Along the courses which follow the novel’s plot, you use items and special weapons to work your way to first place, surviving the clingy Eloi and destructive Morlocks. Our game provided some intertextual game play for intellectuals in their 20s and 30s, as well as sci-fi and steampunk fans. We also took liberties with H.G. Well’s more obscurely described characters to create gender and race-inclusive characters.

The most enjoyable part about this project, to me, was the generation of ideas together and then watching them develop through art and imagery. One thing we would have needed to do if this were a real proposal would have been to fully design our own concepts and/or cite our sources (drawing them would have been super fun). Though we wouldn’t have to consider copyright issues with the aged H.G. Wells novel, we concluded that we could keep the vehicles as direct references under the Fair Use doctrine. Also, as indicated by our classmates, we could have described the functions of more of our characters, vehicles, and levels rather than focusing on one or two, so here some drafts that didn’t make the cut:

 

Man With A Beard–Spontaneous combustion whenever using matches

 

Time Machine Sled–Can hold endless items. The more you have slower you are. Items attract Eloi, sled itself attracts Morlocks. Enables use of mace

Tardis–Unaffected by villains. Overheats when lighting matches. Your matches don’t work on villains (because you’re in a box. Basically, just avoid matches). Disappears momentarily. Works best with Medical Man

Final Stage Kill Screen: In the old arcade games, the machines had limited space and therefore when players got far enough the graphics began to devolve. The Time Machine ends with the Time Traveller disappearing without a clue of where he went, so the last stage could be a “kill screen,” racing at length until the game graphics begin to deteriorate.

Unfortunately, we are mere undergrad students incapable of rendering the game in such the intricate way that we imagine, so if we were to get a chance to build it, it’d probably be less compelling. But it was fun to dream, anyway. Isn’t that where all great games begin? Progress!

–A.A. Benjamin

Gimme hold of that narrative!

Narrative ambiguity is a central feature in Journey; a pro for those of us who enjoyed playing/watching the game, irritating and inconclusive for those who did not. But many of us felt connected to the character(s), sensationally aware of the setting, and personally invoked in the story–whatever we manipulated it to be. Not surprisingly, Journey’s critical response also centered on the game’s open interpretation aspect. Joel Gregory, a game reviewer for Playstation Official Magazine writes that “its [the game’s] brilliance . . . comes down to the fact that the symbolism is left open to interpretation” and describes the game as an “interactive parable” (2012).  And as Gregory notes, the interpretations of the game are infinite, but a definitive answer isn’t the point here. Rather, the game invokes the player on an intellectual level and allows (or forces, for those who didn’t find joy in it) to engage with and in many ways, complete the story by his or herself.

In class, we wondered if this type of game–one that requires intellectual reflection and analysis–might be limited in audience. Many people, it seemed, might be turned off by the mental gymnastics required of the player. And Gregory echoes these concerns, writing that “some think it’s pretentious nonsense.” But the game’s critical reception overwhelmingly suggests otherwise: Journey is currently the fastest selling game on Playstation Store to date, won multiple Game of the Year awards (in categories ranging from story to gameplay engineering), received a Grammy nomination for the score and garnered 92% approval rankings on both GameRankings and Mediacritic.

So rather than excluding segments of the typical gaming community, might Journey (and games like it) actually invite a larger audience? The gameplay is relatively simple, but as Eurogamer reviewer Christian Donlan writes, Journey creates a “sense of hardship” because of the vast unknowns in the world of the game. (This “hardship” is precisely what draws so many advanced gamers to the game; they still find payoff in the end despite the low technical demands of the game.) Games like Journey invite another class of people to the gaming table: maybe those novice gamers who still want to participate in the stimulating virtual world,  maybe those literature buffs who want something new to dissect and analyze, maybe those who feel most connected to a story when they make their own contributions to it. I suspect a bit of all three lies within many Journey players. (But to give credit where credit is due, the game developers have done the majority of the mental work for us plebian players by creating such a visually and sonically robust world.)

In a workshop on Vanderbilt’s campus this afternoon, game designer Evan Meaney cautioned the audience of the illusion of choice present in video games. In his words, games offer the viewer more choice than film (or other media forms) only by “better lying.” And this makes sense–of course a user doesn’t have full control over the game world, because the game developers have only coded so much! In terms of mechanics, Journey succumbs to this same critique. But by granting the player with narrative power, we’re gaining more control, and for Lamer Gamers like me, that’s pretty darn empowering.

-Emma Baker

The Eye: In Gaming and Other Forms of Media

A. A. BENJAMIN

 

I’ve noticed a trend in the different mediums I’ve come in contact with lately.  

Movie: The Fellowship of the Ring

Game: A Story About My Uncle (PC)

Game: Journey (PS3)

Article: some Uber alien game that hasn’t come out yet

What is the cultural significance of this eye and why do we fear it? It drives us instinctively to hide even when it has not been explained—game, movie or otherwise—why we should hide in the first place. Something fictitious puts such a deep anxiety in our hearts that I have to wonder what about this fear is real.
 
 
 
My first instinct is to run to Orwell’s “Big Brother” in 1984. This could possibly be a subconscious cultural and political commentary of modern day lack of trust in structures of authority and power. This unifying symbolism shows a thread of fear that weaves these creative minds together as they form a common enemy.
 
The looming watchful eye always takes a grotesquely large and bulbous shape, anywhere between orange to reddish in tone, sometimes with that cat-like slit that seems to be that much more evil. It is always THE eye. One, not two.
 
 
 
Not only does the singularity suggest the disturbing all-powerful theme explored in 1984, but it also creates this alien-ness that makes it hard for us to fathom what the one eyed creature would do with us if it did catch us. The unknown stirs our deepest fears…
 
Though recurring images across mediums may not be intentional, I think it’d be a bit naïve to assume that they are by accident. What are we trying to tell ourselves, with the continuous return of this monster? Maybe we fear imposing onlookers stripping away our privacy and autonomy. Maybe we fear spectatorship, which is quite interesting considering the mediums in which this monster takes form. If we conflict with a culture of spectatorship, we must be using some strange counter attack that involves becoming the looming spectator ourselves. We can comfortably strip Frodo down with our own eyes, but God-forbid the camera turn on us. Our first instinct is to hide and fear, and it appears that game developers continuously use this easy fix to propel gamers through their desired narrative.
 
I still can’t pinpoint, though, WHY The Eye is such a universally easy fix. How has this organ become a fearsome symbol through time?

The Eye of Providence, or what illuminati conspiracy theorists call, the Eye of Horus (U.S. Dollar Bill)

The Evolution of Immersion

By: Billy Bunce

Help me. I’m being pursued. I desperately flee from four shadowy figures, each of whom desires nothing more than my death. Oh, but what a relief it would be were that my only dilemma. As I was first abducted by these four (though I luckily just escaped), I have absolutely no knowledge of my surroundings. In fact, I feel almost…trapped. I have no idea how to escape. My only chance of temporarily evading my captors would come from thoroughly surveying the area in which I currently find myself. Then and only then might I possibly be able to find some fleeting escape to postpone my inevitable demise. Maybe I’ll be able to find a weapon soon and fight back against my captors for a brief while. But until then, I run.

Now, reread that paragraph with the newfound knowledge that I just presented a more absorbing, epic, and slightly altered synopsis of the game Pac-Man. Such an involved mindset, though actually rather commonplace in modern console and computer games, is never encountered in classic arcade games. This, in my opinion, is the primary difference between arcade/board games and contemporary video games: a sense of immersion.

I’ll never forget the evening when I finished the fourth case in Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney on the DS. The ending was so shocking and mind-blowing that I literally found myself unable to study for the AP exams that I had the next day. Lost in contemplation, I was only able to think about the game, the characters, and the complex murder mystery that had just been revealed to me. It was then that I first realized just how absorbing a video game can truly be if done right.

However, it wasn’t just the narrative that caused the game to affect me the way it did. The graphics, music, and presentation all combined to make Phoenix Wright one of the most enthralling experiences I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. None of these great aspects, though, can be found in arcade or board games. Although the original arcade games should be appreciated for the difference they made in shaping the present state of video games, the truth is that I will never be as enthralled by a game of Pac-Man, Monopoly, or Galaga as I am by Phoenix Wright, Metal Gear Solid, or Final Fantasy VII.

This difference in the immersive abilities of a game arises primarily due to the evolution of the medium of video games as a whole. Board/arcade games are, more than anything, relics of a time when video games were naught more than quick, simple endeavors. The purpose of video games was once solely to have mindless fun, while they are now transmedial fusions which can provide involving, absorbing, and potentially life-changing experiences (Kingdom Hearts actually fell into that final category for me). Sure, a game of Dig-Dug or Donkey Kong is still fun every once in a while if I just need to kill some time. But for me, an immersive console game will always beat a simple round of an arcade game.

Boredom or Entertainment

   By:  Matt Almeida

        In my mind there is no question, I would choose a console or online game over a arcade game any day. Throughout my life I have had experiences with both and I certainly enjoy console and online games more because they differ from arcade games in numerous ways. Console and online games are fun and entertaining for an extended period of time unlike arcade games. Arcade games are enjoyable at first but in my mind this is only temporary. I can sit down and play an arcade game but after a while it just gets boring. Arcade games are difficult and are designed, for the most part, for the player to lose. After all arcade games are most commonly found in arcades where people pay to play. The only way an arcade can survive and be successful is if people continue to pay, play, lose, and then pay to play some more.

            There are many elements to arcade games that make them different and less enjoyable than those games on consoles and online. Although technologically speaking arcade games are usually fairly simple and straightforward, there are many complicated and complex aspects to them that make them extremely difficult. As I said they are designed to be hard so the player will lose and play again. Not only do arcade games involve difficulty but they are also usually laboriously lengthy. The games don’t always change that much but they go on for a while and incorporate many things that require strategy to become good at. Here is where the problem lies. I would rather have fun and enjoy gaming then extensively plan and strategize to be successful. As seen in The King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters , arcade games require extensive practice and strategy to master. Although some arcade and online games require strategy,  it is not nearly as extensive, boring, or monotonous as with arcade games.

            Simply put, arcade games get boring and on top of that are somewhat anti social and provide very little reward. You can only say you’re a winner at an arcade game if you set some sort of high score. This can be achieved through practice and if practicing and having this goal at the end of the tunnel sounds fun and entertaining then maybe arcade games are for you. For me, however, they are only fun for short periods of time and the thought of sitting in front of Donkey Kong for hours and hours by myself is not a fun thought at all.  Console and online games simply are more fun, incorporating more entertainment, action, and a multiplayer social aspect that arcade games don’t necessarily have. I can play with other people in my home or from my home on the internet with online and console games.  I could play these  games for hours as they always provide something new. Every game has its core aspects and qualities but each play seems a little different than the last. Each game brings something new and unique and the entertainment is constant. Console and online games are new and cool. They are “in” now and are leading the industry with new technology that leaves arcade games in the dust. Perhaps it is just that console and online games are the games of our generation as for me they are simply just more fun and fun is what I want out of a game.

-almeidmd