Skiing: bloody expensive

I'm going skiing with 7 colleagues on Thursday night and, well, certain preparations have to be made. Insurance has to be bought, tickets have to be procured, accommodation arranged. For novices - like six of us - lessons have to be booked and, if necessary, transport. Luckily for us, we're travelling overnight on a coach, and it's included as part of the deal. That's way better than a two hour flight, really.

And then there's the question of equipment. I know sport's expensive, but few popular ones can surely rival the expense needed to go skiing. One of my more experienced colleagues is organising everything, and he's provided us with a list of stuff we need to bring. Luckily, I've almost got my gear sorted.

Most of it was bought from Sports Direct, which always seems to have a massive sale on. That meant my jacket was reduced from £80 to £16, and my trousers from £80 to £25. This is gear that's on sale in Sports Direct, so it's not exactly high-end stuff. I also got my socks, gloves and hat from there and, luckily, that was all in the sale too.

Sports Direct doesn't sell thermals, though, so I wandered over to Kathmandu, an outdoor shop that's literally over the road.

It's a gorgeous, welcoming shop, all polished wood floors, rails of fantastic-looking gear and helpful assistants. It seems to sell everything the hardy outdoorsman needs and, as an added bonus, it's also got a sale on at the moment. "Thousands of items reduced", the big red signs blare. I thought it prudent to spend some decent coin on decent thermals, and found them on sale in a two for £24 deal. Sorted.

I also reckoned that I'd be able to get my gloves, socks and hat from the same place, since it was also boasting a three for two deal on any selection of these. You'll notice that I bought those items from Sports Direct, though. That's because I walked into Kathmandu and the first pair of gloves I looked at cost £40.

All this is for a short trip and I'm doing it on the cheap because I have no idea if I like skiing. In all likelihood, I'll spend three days tumbling down a mountain before coming home.

But what if you're serious about it? £40 gloves are, surely, just the start. I've been told that decent jackets and trousers can cost £200, and a quality pair of boots also stretch way into three figures (I'm hiring mine).

Then there's all the ancillary stuff: ski ties, hats, socks, thermal base layers, fleeces, goggles. And then the stuff that we're hiring when we get there - boots, poles, the skis themselves.

It all adds up and, it seems, it'd be a frightening amount if you're really going to take this whole Winter Sports thing seriously. It doesn't help that all of the gear in Kathmandu looked absolutely brilliant: from t-shirts and hoodies through to rugged trousers and thick, warm jackets, I wanted it all - not just for skiing, but for wearing everyday. I guess I'm just a sucker for this kind of kit: I'm more liable to choose a backpack or jacket based on the number of pockets, compartments and hidden areas it's got than I am for what it costs or looks like.

I'm sure it'll be awesome and I can't wait to get there. I think I'll stick to football, though: after all, you only need some jumpers and a ball. And I'm pretty sure you don't need to spend hundreds of pounds to get some of those.

Why nostalgia is a load of old tosh

It's the same every time a new year runs around. Every gaming website or magazine worth its salt - or bereft of ideas, depending on your viewpoint - unleashes a Game of the Year feature, where the best titles of the past twelve months are decided and rewarded, usually with a paragraph. If they're lucky.

One unwanted side-effect of these retrospective articles is the inevitable surge of the nostalgia-fuelled rant. Older guys will come out and say "gaming was definitely better in the eighties", while 20-somethings will inevitably say the same thing about the 90s gaming scene.

It's a load of rubbish.

With that said, the 80s and 90s were, of course, pivotal times for gaming. Every classic genre was formed, from the RTS and FTPS to the platformer, sports sim and racing game, and careers were made, with Sid Meier, Will Wright, John Carmack and John Romero just some of the names to emerge during these halycon days.

These two decades were vital in shaping the course of gaming, setting down trends that would last until today and will undoubtedly prevail into the future. That means that the 80s and 90s were incredibly influential, and I'm not going to be silly enough to deny that.

However, that's still no excuse for claiming that the gaming scene of twenty years ago churned out games that are consistently better than recent titles. That's beyond appreciation for classic titles - that's just silly, like claiming that classic silent movies are better than today's Oscar winners, or that the BBC's first forays into television are more rewarding, in 2010, than the latest jaw-dropping wildlife documentary.

These wild claims are entirely borne out of the rose-tinted spectacles worn by those folks who grew up at the time. I'm certainly not immune to looking back with fondness: Road Rash was my first gaming love and devoured hundreds of hours, but I'm not going to claim that it's a better title than Burnout Paradise. Similarly, FIFA 94 and 97 were the two football games that first captured my imagination, but FIFA's latest incarnation kicks it all over the park.

Take other classic games that have been widely credited with inventing entire genres and it's plain to see that few stand up to their modern counterparts, even if recent titles can't claim to innovate half as much.

The first Dune and Warcraft games were released in the early 90s, for instance, but it's impossible to argue that they're more fun to play than, say, World in Conflict or Warcraft 3: the latter games' features, graphics and gameplay more than see to that, even if the original games were responsible for popularising the genre. I've been back to play Warcraft 1, and it's incredibly frustrating: long before the era of second buttons on mice, you had to click a character, then click a box in the panel and then click an area on the world to make them move. Ouch.

The earliest FPS games are beset with similar limitations. Doom's fun in a simple, blasting monsters kind of way, but Serious Sam HD does all of that on a far grander, prettier and more versatile scale. Quake introduced mouselook, sure, and it should be commended for its innovation. It's also a game I spent many hours playing in my youth. Now, though? I have Modern Warfare 2, Left 4 Dead 2, Half Life 2 and all manner of games to stoke my FPS fires.

Every genre is littered with games like this, and few games seem to stand up today in the face of far more advanced competition. Take Mario and its brand of 2D platforming, which has stood the test of time partly because of its fantastic gameplay and partly because Nintendo enjoys rehashing its back catalogue to appeal to millions of new (young, and inexperienced) players drawn into gaming by the Wii.

The majority of "classic" titles, though, are just that: games which deserve endless praise for innovating and, in some cases, inventing genres and concepts that are still relied upon today. And, of course, at the time they seemed revolutionary. That time, though, was twenty years ago - and that time has long gone. It's fine to reminisce about games you enjoy, but claiming that these old games are better than today's finest? Tosh.

Instead of wallowing in nostalgia, then, I'll enjoy concepts pioneered by Doom, Warcraft and Mario in Modern Warfare 2, World in Conflict, Uncharted 2 - titles that have become hundreds of times more intricate and challenging than their influential forefathers. And they look fantastic on an HDTV without the need for rose-tinted specs, too.

Metro's headlines: sensationalist, unethical and simply not true

My morning routine is, like most people, the same every day: get up, watch Neighbours, eat toast, get dressed and go to work. I don't normally read the free Metro; instead, I'm usually working, playing games or watching a DVD.

The paper - which is distributed to almost three million people daily - is still visible over countless shoulders. That made yesterday's front page headline, "Video gaming leads to surge in rickets", hard to ignore.

It is, of course, sensationalist bullshit in the finest Daily Mail/Express tradition.

Take the study where the story came from: conducted by two scientists from Newcastle University and published in the British Medical Journal, its conclusion was that sedentary lifestyles and a change in diet means that kids aren't getting enough Vitamin D which, in turn, has resulted in an upswing in the number of rickets cases. Simon Pearce, Professor of Endocrinology, went on to recommend that the Government combat this by putting more Vitamin D into common foods, like milk.

I know that it's bullshit because a colleague of mine, Joe Martin, spoke to Professor Pearce, and found out that he "didn't do any research to link video games to rickets".

Furthermore, the study was conducted exclusively on children under 20 months old - far too young to play even the most basic of Wii titles, let alone game for long enough to cause rickets. "Our intended message", he said, was that "vitamin drops and food supplementation might...ensure children don't get rickets". Very different, and Joe's very illuminating article can be read over on Bit-Tech.

It's classic sensationalism, and something that gamers are used to. Despite the UK games industry being bigger than the nation's movie industry, games are regularly held up to the kind of negative scrutiny that rarely befalls movies, TV or literature, all of which are seen as "proper" cultural fields in the face of gaming's incorrect image as childish and immature.

Never mind, though; that kind if blind, harmful ignorance will disappear with time, as it did when movies and television were feared as the technological innovation that would ruin children.

What is disturbing, though, is how the story came to be. rather than reporting on real issues - the tragedy of Haiti, or the Chilcot war inquiry - Metro has taken a mundane press release and manipulated it beyond all recognition in the search for a headline. Grip people with an exciting headline and more people read your paper; more readers means that you can charge advertisers more. Advertising is how Metro makes its money. In the midst of this ad-driven process, they've also taken a cheap and unwarranted shot at one of the nation's most popular hobbies.

So, who was it? An eager young reporter, trying to impress his superiors and convinced that yesterday's work represented "real" journalism? A jaded editor, searching for headlines amid the dozens of faceless press releases that clog his inbox on a daily basis? A cynical sub-editor, writing attention-grabbing headlines to spice up a mundane story?

No matter who's responsible, it's still reprehensible, and it certainly isn't news. It is, instead, a cheap headline-grabbing tactic designed to provoke outrage rather than inform, and it's at the expense of facts, integrity and real news. It also makes me glad that I never read the Metro.

Why Microsoft's marketing is cynical, cheap - and brilliant

Microsoft is, increasingly, an awful lot like Apple when it comes to marketing.

A couple of years ago Redmond seemed comfortable to sit in its nerdy niche but, ever since the arrival of advertising guru Steve Ballmer as CEO, the firm has paid plenty of attention – and spent plenty of money – on revamping its image.

It’s arguable that only the crucial Windows group has more of a marketing focus than the Xbox division but, whereas adverts for the new OS have concentrated on being open and honest, Microsoft’s gaming efforts seem to focus on pulling the wool over customer’s eyes – especially when it comes to so-called “exclusive” titles.

Take Left 4 Dead 2, for instance. One of this Winter’s blockbuster releases, it’s developed by PC gaming icons Valve – as was the first after the studio was bought mid-way through the game’s creation – and is a co-operative FPS that’s best played on the PC.

Except the average gamer might not know that: every TV advert shows the game’s frenetic action before cutting to an Xbox 360 ident that, to the average Modern Warfare 2 and FIFA-playing console fan, makes the game appear as an exclusive.

Of course, Microsoft avoids legal issues by never using the “E” word, but it’s not needed – the Xbox 360 branding at the end of the advert will, I’m sure, make enough gamers assume that the game is only available on Microsoft’s platform.

It’s not only Left 4 Dead 2 that has fallen prey to Microsoft’s sneaky tactics. Most of the Rock Band series has been adorned with the branding despite it being available for PlayStation 3 simultaneously, and a new advert shows all manner of music games – including Guitar Hero 5 and DJ Hero – being played on a 360, with voice of “real” music Jo Whiley providing a suitable voiceover. Zane Lowe has done the same sort of thing in the past, too.

This strategy – which presents many of the world’s most alluring games as exclusive titles, even if they’re not – is arrogant, smug and misleading. Very few tech companies, with the exception of the cult-like Apple, have been able to get away with something along these lines.

Perhaps I’m feeling wounded as an unashamed Sony fan: after all, it only really advertises real exclusives rather than pretending that multi-format releases are only available on one platform.

Unfortunately for Sony, it seems to be working. Reports from the launch of Modern Warfare 2 suggested that Xbox 360 copies were flying off the shelves in comparison to the PlayStation 3 version, even if the gap between the two consoles is closing: Activision reported that 360 sales outnumbered PS3 sales two to one, even though PS3 sales have surged over the past few months.

And, perhaps, Microsoft should be applauded for its aggressive advertising. Sony has its own endorsements – many of which, including the Champions League and WRC – it’s stood by for years, but it just doesn’t promote its console as aggressively as Microsoft does in the mainstream, with adverts touting many of the same services, such as movie streaming and media capabilities, that the PS3 offers for free.

With only a handful of exclusive games between platforms and most big titles appearing on both machines, I’d wager that Microsoft’s early lead of the PS3 was the result of an earlier launch and plenty of adverts rather than it being borne out of a genuinely superior machine.

After all, thanks to Microsoft’s sneaky marketing, thousands of people are fooled in thinking that certain games are only available on a console that’s noisy, ugly and far more expensive, when it comes to total cost of ownership, than its main competitor.

There's no doubt that Microsoft's aggressive and effective marketing strategy should be applauded. It’s just a shame that the battle between the world’s two best consoles might be won by whoever is willing to stump up the biggest advertising budget.

First impressions: Left 4 Dead 2

Aside from That Evil Game With The Level In The Airport©, Left 4 Dead 2 is probably one of the most controversial PC releases of the year, albeit for all the wrong reasons.

The fans revolted, you see, because Valve decided to develop a sequel to the original only a year after release, while promising to still release DLC for the first Left 4 Dead game. How dare they develop a bigger, better and more violent game? The insolence!

But anyway, that’s of little importance now that said sequel has been released and said protest has fizzled out. What is important, however, is that Left 4 Dead 2 (L4D2) is superb.

I myself am a newcomer to the game, not having played the original, but I’ve been told by more experienced colleagues that this game is a bigger, better and badder version of the still-popular first game.

Explaining L4D2’s concept is easy: four people have survived the zombie apocalypse, and they must fight their way through unrelenting hordes of the undead to get to a safe evacuation point.

L4D2’s genius lies in how Valve has expanded and perfected this concept. Weapons, for instance; all of the game’s standard guns are comically exaggerated, packing explosive recoil, huge amounts of power and a superb, kinetic feel, but a host of melee weapons add spice to the game.

The katana, for instance, slices zombies into slivers, and the crowbars and guitars and frying pans come complete with meaty and satisfying sound effects. The chainsaw, though, is the undisputed king of melee: its whir like a maniacal laugh and its cutting and grinding power unmatched. I can’t think of any other game that prevents you from seeing enemies directly in front of you simply because there’s too much blood in the way.

Even the chainsaw runs out of fuel, though, which contributes to one of L4D2’s other vital ingredients: suspense. The threat of death by zombie is ever-present, even though you’ll always have a weapon: melee items are normally available, and the pistol never runs out of ammo. Neither of these, however, are enough to fight off an ever-increasing group of zombies without help from your fellow survivors.

You’ll have to work in a team to succeed, especially when L4D2’s roster of “special” zombies has been expanded. Now there’s the Jockey, who leaps on survivors and walks them to grisly deaths, the Charger who, well, charges people, and the Spitter, who propels balls of acidic phlegm across the map.

Valve’s other masterstroke was to make most of the game playable online, with only one mode – the imaginatively named single-player mode – not requiring internet access.

Playing with other people, whether you know them or not, adds layers of both unpredictability and trust: you won’t be bothered when your AI team-mates die, but you’ll certainly work harder to protect and heal real people, just as they’ll instinctively do the same for you. Even if you don’t know them, the “us vs them” mentality that’s prevalent when you enter a server is genuinely galvanising.

The only other mode I’ve played so far, aside from the campaign levels, is Versus – and it’s great. One team of four plays as survivors, and another team of four takes its place among the infected, occupying all of the “special” roles. Playing as a survivor is fine – it’s just regular L4D2 but against slightly cannier human opponents – but it’s unfortunate that playing as the infected seems to be slightly broken.

In concept, it’s a fine idea, but the idea of an unrelenting horde is harmed by having to wait twenty seconds to respawn. The infected aren’t particularly powerful, either – maybe I’m just not very good, but I’m lucky to get one attack in before I’m killed. It’s the nature of playing amid a side that’s been designed to be easy to mow down.

Removing the respawn time would perhaps balance things up a little and make it more fun playing as infected, allowing you to wade back into battle far quicker. This, however, is a tiny, minor complaint – and one that’s perhaps borne out of me just not being very good at the game.

In every other respect – the level design, the game modes, the sound, the graphics, the weapons – L4D2 is superb. I can’t help but recommend a game where I laugh uncontrollably as I gun down hundreds of zombies and stand, triumphant, amid their infected entrails and spilled blood.

Aion and MMOs - a delicate balancing act

The past few weeks of playing in Aion have, at least for me, illustrated that getting the balance right, especially when it comes to MMOs, is vitally important.

Take my tenure as a Ranger - while I thought that running around with superb blade and arrow skills would be awesome, I found that my weak armour (I couldn't use chain or plate, for instance) and lack of actual melee weapon proficiency was my downfall.

When attacking, I was always on the back foot, and had to rely on kiting to defeat difficult mobs - that is, fire arrows and lay traps, all the while retreating, so that you can kill them without them hitting you and doing damage. I found myself always playing on the defensive and struggling to kill mobs that were at my level, possibly because I'm just not a very good kiter.

This, obviously, sucked.

I gave up at level 19 and started a new character. This time, I'm a Gladiator, and I can wear plate and chain armour. I can also wield a polearm, which is a 10ft tall stick with a god-damned HUGE blade on the end.

This, obviously, means I can wade into battle, hit higher-level mobs around the head and watch them cower in fear.

Which means that I can play much more aggressively.

It's amazing the progress I've made - in less time I'm at a higher level and I'm enjoying it much, much more.

I do feel that, perhaps, the Ranger class could be better balanced - while my blade skills were sufficient to take down lower level enemies, as I approached levels 19 and 20 I found everything far more difficult. Looking up guides for kiting revealed that the best way to progress was to exploit a small animation but that, essentially, allowed you to fire arrows sooner than you really should have done. In my opinion, getting ahead this way is just not right, and illustrates that, however small it may be, there's a small unbalance in the force.

But, now that I'm Gladiator, it's all good - stuff that's my level falls easily because I've managed to acquire some pretty good equipment, but quests around my level still offer a good mix of difficulties - some are simple and easy grinding whereas others are too difficult because of the sheer number of mobs. Others, such as those in the Krall settlements near to Verteron Fortress, require groups, and ranging around with a group of people picking off high-level mobs is some of the most fun I've yet had in Aion.

On the other end of the scale, I was challenged to a dual by a Chancer a couple of days ago. Not having encountered one before, I accepted, and he cut me down with a few simple spells, and I couldn't get near him.

Either I'm not very good or that particular class of character is too powerful for its own good.

Ho-hum.

Big name games: are they really that bad?

“Guitar Hero is exactly what’s wrong with the games industry”, said my colleague, after I’d found out that Santa Monica by Everclear would be appearing in the upcoming pop spin-off, Band Hero.

But why?

When it debuted in 2005, Guitar Hero was universally adored. Everyone loved its innovative take on the rhythm action genre (never mind that guitar games have been popular in Japan for years), and everyone seemed to enjoy the dodgy cover versions that made up the games 48-song track listing.

The game exploded in popularity: Guitar Heroes 2 and 3 came to pass, expanding the track list and replacing cover versions with real songs, and Rock Band entered the arena, a blatant copy of an existing formula, albeit one with drums and microphones. The fourth game in the series, World Tour, belated brought instruments to Guitar Hero’s table.


The state of play is now thus: Rock Band 2 suffered from patchy distribution but still enjoyed good sales thanks to Microsoft’s heavy-handed faux-exclusive advertising, and Beatles Rock Band and Lego Rock Band are diversifying the franchise.

Guitar Hero, on the other hand, has brought out Metallica and Aerosmith editions, with Van Halen soon to follow, and Band Hero is forthcoming, offering pop songs and classic cheese amid soft-rock. DJ Hero is, well, a DJing game and comes with plastic decks.

I don’t see what is wrong with this. Guitar Hero and Rock Band have both become phenomenally successful, and their publishers have capitalised on this trend by releasing more titles.

The same can be said of the Call of Duty series, which churns out a superb title every year and, before its improvements over the last couple of years, the FIFA games were well known for being minor refreshes designed purely to make eager punters who hadn’t discovered Pro Evo part with £40.

Worse than all of these is, arguably, The Sims – a series which, alongside its three main titles, has spawned 16 expansions packs, with only one of these compatible with The Sims 3, which was only released in June.

Critics would argue that this sort of development exists to do nothing more than gouge money from eager punters who don’t know any better but, if that’s what they enjoy playing, then that’s fair enough – that they won’t experience Fallout 3’s wastelands or Uncharted 2’s masterful storytelling is their loss, and you can hardly blame the big publishers for supplying such demand.

I don’t agree with the charge that this sort of production line development disrupts the rest of PC and console gaming, either. EA has, since 2006, had a separate division to develop its Sims games, and development duties for the Call of Duty titles are shared between Infinity Ward and Treyarch, who take turns to product the yearly titles.

Meanwhile, EA's 29 other studios - which stretch from established areas in the US and Europe to emerging markets like China and India - are free to concentrate on other games, both franchises and original IP.

It could also be argued that the vast amounts of cash that Guitar Hero, The Sims and its ilk is conducive to more innovative and risky development elsewhere - publishers are more likely to take a chance on some original IP, say, if they've got bucketloads of guaranteed income elsewhere.

Activision, publishers of Guitar Hero, are bringing out social networking racer Blur in 2010 and have already unleashed Prototype, and action game crammed with Parkour and shapeshifting. Even DJ Hero, despite its status as a Guitar Hero spin-off, is one of the most inventive games of the year thanks to its unique peripheral and mixing gameplay.

Ubisoft, the world's fourth-biggest games publisher, is also responsible for exciting and original IP - Assassin's Creed is the biggest original IP title of the current generation.

EA is even more prolific, publishing games like Mirror's Edge, Mass Effect, Crysis, Skate, Spore and Dead Space in the last two years alone. It wouldn't be possible to publish all of these games without the funds that EA Sports titles, once the much-maligned staple of the studio, brought in.

It's not a modern phenomenon, either. FIFA and Madden have both been cash cows for EA since the early 1990's, and old warhorses like Pacman and Tetris continue to live on in new formats and in countless new "Extreme" editions, even more than twenty years after their respective births.

It's not a modern phenomenon, then, and it's not one that will be going away any time soon - in fact, I reckon that the continued success of big-ticket franchises can help secure the future of plenty of games - and even entire genres and consoles - from potential obscurity thanks to the money and publicity they bring into the industry.

You could certainly accuse some publishers of being cynical with some releases - take some of the FIFA games from the beginning of the millennium for a prime example - but I, for one, hope that they don't vanish anytime soon.