So, it’s been a pretty momentous week. But one of the least-seismic, and perhaps best developments is the mass exodus of users from Twitter. Sorry, Elon, nobody is going to call it X. That platform has been a cesspool for awhile now, and I don’t think I’ve used it since WordPress removed their auto-post integration, but the recent TOS change, saying anything you post can be used to train AI…well, that’s actually been kind of great, because it’s made people realize there are other options out there.
All of this is to say, I’m now on Bluesky Social: brainrotblog.bsky.social
Also, this brings us to today’s word.
climacteric, adj. – constituting or related to a major event or critical period
Learned from: Mass Effect 2 (Playstation 3, PC, XBox 360)
Developed by Bioware
Published by Electronic Arts (2010)
The Mass Effect games fall into the same category of RPGs as your Fallouts, your Elder Scrolls, and even your Genshin Impacts, in that there is a metric boatload of in-game lore to read through, if you’re so inclined. You could easily just ignore the plot for an hour or two, kick back, and read through piles of data logs about anything from the Reapers, to the complex interrelations between the Hanar and the Drell, to the centuries-long life cycles of the Asari. I think it was the latter where I first saw climacteric, in relation to when Asari reach adulthood, or something. (It’s been quite a long time since I’ve played this series; I should fix that.)
Fun bonus fact: Climacteric is also a noun, meaning a major event or critical period. This also makes it one of my least-favorite words, right up there with “chiropractic.” Some people hate the word “moist.” I hate nouns that end in -ic. It’s like saying, “I’m going to study scientific.” There’s nothing about that that sounds right.
“Liara is aesthetic.” You see what I mean? It’s just wrong!
I recently got back from visiting my family downstate for the holidays. It was great getting out of my bubble for a bit, seeing folks I haven’t gotten to in several years (thanks, COVID), and experiencing all the wonderful food and cultural opportunities a more metropolitan area offers. It was a great trip for a lot of reasons.
We also got in a few movies, including the absolutely incredible Godzilla: Minus One, which is not only the best Godzilla movie I’ve ever seen, but my film of the year–not that I go to the theater much these days, so take that how you will. But in leading up to the film, there was a trailer for a different, much more depressing-looking movie. Which brings us to today’s word.
atavistic, adj. - the reversion to something ancestral; the reemergence of a past outlook, activity, or style
Learned from: Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes (Gamecube)
Developed by Konami Computer Entertainment Japan, Silicon Knights
Published by Konami (2004)
Godzilla: Minus One is not only a triumph of filmmaking, but also of the human spirit. I don’t want to spoil much, but suffice it to say that the movie’s underlying message is that you don’t always need to sacrifice yourself for the good of your loved ones, or your government, or society–there’s almost always another way. It’s beautiful, hopeful, and a surprisingly moving film that hits way above its weight class on an emotional level. Seriously, watch this movie.
But before I was sucker punched right in the feels by a Godzilla movie, of all things, there was a trailer for I.S.S. And the two films could not be more tonally different. This trailer starts with a lot of messaging about how the International Space Station is bridges national and cultural gaps, where the best and brightest from around the world come together at the forefront of scientific advancement, etc. and so on. Cue scenes of happy Russians and Americans laughing, enjoying the view, and bonding…then they see World War III break out. Large swaths of Earth are literally on fire, yet somehow both the Russian and American leaders have enough infrastructure left to send messages to their respective scientists on the I.S.S., ordering them to secure the station, “at any cost.”
And judging from the rest of the trailer, that’s exactly what they set out to try and do.
It’s horrendously depressing in a vacuum (no pun intended), but even more so when contrasted with the actual movie that I watched that day. Godzilla: Minus One is a celebration of hope, perseverance, and working together in the face of impossible odds. It takes place in the smoking aftermath of World War II, and says that even in our darkest times, we can rise above what we were. But I.S.S.? The message there seems to be that things can–and will–always get worse. That there’s no escaping the primal, tribal violence that so much of our history is shaped around. Even when there’s nothing left worth fighting over.
By now, you’re probably asking yourself what the hell this has to do with Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes. Or, if you’re familiar with Hideo Kojima’s Philosophy 101 bloviating, maybe you understand all too well.
It’s during the fight against Psycho Mantis I believe, where he’s incessantly monologuing at you, that he brings up something about mankind’s atavistic tendencies. Honestly, it was long enough ago that I played this, and even at the time I tuned most of it out, but that word stuck with me. Here’s a guy prancing around in a gimp suit, making your controller vibrate, and taunting you with comments about the save files on your memory card (if you had any other Konami games on there), and in the midst of all that word salad, he tosses out “atavistic.”
You may be getting the impression that I don’t really like Hideo Kojima’s work, and you’d be right. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to go off on a tangent about just how overrated I think his games are, but I won’t. Instead, I’m going to go full circle back to movies, and end this post (and this year, as I’m writing this on December 31st), with a message from another memorable film, Everything, Everywhere, All at Once: Please, just be kind.
On this random Sunday, I’d just like to dispense a bit of advice: you never can really know when something you do or say could have unintended consequences. This might sound like I’m advocating living in a constant state of anxiety, but that’s not exactly the case. That sort of thing tends to be my general state of being, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Just, be mindful, because you don’t always know what other people may be going through. Which brings us to today’s word.
chary, adj. – exceptionally wary or cautious
Learned from: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (Released on virtually everything that can display graphics, since the PS3 era. I’m not listing it all.)
Developed by Bethesda Game Studios
Published by Bethesda Softworks (originally 2011, with many, many re-releases afterward)
These games are full of books. Books about history, and poetry, and cooking, and travel guides–there’s a lot here for anyone with the patience and interest to seek it out and read through it all. That said, I don’t think I would’ve had the foggiest idea of which book the word “chary” showed up in, if I hadn’t scribbled an extra memo next to it in my notebook. If I was accurate, this word shows up somewhere in volume 2 of The Real Barenziah, in reference to how some townsfolk feel with regards to the titular character.
Now, if you offered me a million dollars to tell you just who Barenziah was, or why your average citizen might be overly wary of him, I would not leave the conversation a rich man. Heck, I can’t even say for certainty that Barenziah as a “him” at all, it’s been so long since I read this particular story-within-a-story. And that’s something I seem to remember from Skyrim as a whole: a lot of the ancillary, background material seemed significantly more detailed and fleshed out than the events taking place during your adventure.
In fairness though, I never finished it. After about 20 hours of primarily fighting the same reskinned “guy with melee weapon,” “guy with ranged weapon,” and “guy with magic” over and over again, I lost interest. If I find a subterranean nest of bug people, fighting them shouldn’t feel essentially the same as fighting a group of bandits. But it did. I guess I just wanted more of a chary feeling, venturing into the unknown, instead of the boredom that settled in.
I couldn’t find a screenshot of that exact page, so enjoy the hexadecimal codes for a bunch of crafting materials, instead.
Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a post all about COVID. At least, not directly. Over the past few months, the company I work for has bled off no fewer than seven employees. We aren’t large, so this has really hurt. And because there’s a labor shortage in the US right now (the exact reasons why are a subject for another time), every place is hiring. That means we’ve had a ridiculously hard time getting people to apply–and if they do apply, most of them only stick around for a month or so before leaving to look for something less stressful. “Normal” this year has become an endless cycle of working extra hours because we’re so short-staffed, leading to a more stressful environment among those of us who have stuck around, and the new employees we do get pick up on that, and don’t want to stay, leading to more long hours, and more stress, and…
I miss the old normal. Which brings us to today’s word.
mundane, adj. – normal, ordinary, commonplace
Learned from: The Immortal (Apple IIGS, Amiga, Atari ST, Genesis, NES, PC, Nintendo Switch)
Developed by Will Harvey
Published by Electronic Arts (1990)
The Immortal was an odd, but memorable game. Part-adventure game, part-light RPG, it put you in the shoes of a rather old wizard, trying to find his mentor somewhere in a sprawling labyrinth. It sounds pretty straightforward (aside from the protagonist older than 30–how often do you see something like that, these days?), but the game was anything but. Your adventure was chock-full of clever puzzles to solve (or bash your head against), traps to avoid (or blunder into), monsters to fight (or sneak by, or even befriend), and spells to cast–even spells as “mundane” as fireballs, according to the manual.
The world usually felt threatening, sometimes alien (the will-o’-the-wisps stand out in my memory), and always lived-in. Even despite the clunky controls, and some would say unfair difficulty (how was I supposed to know that chest was full of spiders, ahead of time?!), I still have very fond recollections of my time with The Immortal. Despite the bland initial setup, the game is anything but mundane.
Believe it or not, EA publishing good, inventive games also used to be normal.
I’m only going to be paying lip service to the game in question, today, because the real focus is something much more important. Even with us being down to about 60% staff at work, and all the extra hours and stress that’ve resulted, the news that broke last night was something I couldn’t let pass without comment. Kentaro Miura, the author and artist of Berserk, one of the best dark fantasy series ever written, died earlier this month. As far as I can tell, the news was only made public yesterday (or, today technically, since Japan’s in a different time zone). This post won’t be a tribute to the man, directly (since I didn’t learn any words from the Berserk game on the Dreamcast), but it’s the only way I could think of to talk about him while still being relevant to the purpose of this blog.
Published by Stern Electronics, Atari, Vectrex (1980)
Berzerk with a Z was very much a “survive as long as you can and get the high score” style of game. There was no end, or any real story as far as I know–just room after randomly-generated room of killer robots that you had to shoot.
Berserk with an S has nothing in common with the above…except, I guess now it also has no end…. I avoided this manga for the longest time, because what little I’d seen of the first anime adaptation suggested that it was about a band of mercenaries fighting in various wars: a magic-less, fairly realistic medieval fantasy series (except for the one monster that was an inexplicably unkillable minotaur). I generally prefer my fantasy with more inhuman creatures, magic, and stories about more than just dudes in armor. And the fact that the Dreamcast game I mentioned centered around plant monsters just muddied the waters, because the anime had nothing like that, and a friend at the time said it was an unrelated side story. My first impressions were that Berserk was a series with no real identity, as a result.
I discovered years later that I’d done both the series and its author a tremendous disservice. There is a lot of human drama in Berserk, and in the pages of the manga, it’s poignantly heartfelt and sincere. To the point where I cried at certain spots. And I couldn’t have been more wrong in my assumptions about the magic and the monsters; some of these demons look like if Lovecraft and Bosch had a baby.
I…realize I’m on the verge of rambling, but the emotions are still too raw right now to do much else. Berserk is a manga that’s been in the works for decades, and the story Miura wanted to tell will now forever remain unfinished. He was only 54 years old, and his death truly is a loss for the world. Even if you’ve never heard of Berserk before today, I can guarantee you’ve felt its influence: The oppressive, hostile worlds of the Dark Souls series. Cloud’s gigantic sword in Final Fantasy VII. The whole “one hero against hordes of enemies” idea that’s at the core of Dynasty Warriors. Hell, Sam Sykes’ fantasy novels are practically just reskins of Berserk when you get down to it (they’re still good, though). And on, and on. Miura created something special with Berserk, and his legacy will continue long into the future. The next time you see a character wielding a sword so absurdly large that it’s more “like a hunk of iron,” or a band of mercenaries who keep running up against impossible odds, or a fantasy world where life is cheap, but true friendship is the most precious thing there is…remember Berserk. And if you haven’t read it yet, I cannot recommend it highly enough. So long as you’re not squeamish, that is. Nothing is really off-limits in this series, but it’s all part of the journey. And, as with all the best journeys, this one will have to be more about the path, than the ultimate destination.
I know this is the image a lot of people are using, but it honestly works so well…
Well, two days ago marked the official start of a new era in United States politics. That sounds a bit melodramatic, but the past four years have felt much, much longer. And I know the problems inherent in, and responsible for those four years won’t just go away overnight, but we can hope they were ultimately an aberration. Which brings us to today’s word.
ergodic, adj. – the tendency for a system to even out to a baseline value over time
Learned from: Oxenfree (Playstation 4, Mac, Mobile, PC, Nintendo Switch, XBox One)
Developed by Night School Studio
Published by Night School Studio (2016)
Disclaimer: The definition above is significantly simplified. The exact meaning is rather technical, and seems to vary slightly depending on which dictionary I use to look it up. This is perhaps fitting, considering the term in the game applied to a theory of thermodynamics.
Oxenfree is an interesting horror-themed adventure game. Sort of a sci-fi, coming of age, ghost story…kind of. You play (mostly) as Alex, a girl who gets invited to a party on an abandoned island one summer. Once you’re there, you and your friends accidentally make contact with…something through your portable radio, and end up in a struggle for your lives against the entities on the island. Much like today’s word, this synopsis is over-simplified, but I don’t want to give spoilers, because the narrative really is good, with dialogue choices that seem to matter, and some really neat twists.
Anyway, at one point, you discover the notes of someone who was researching the entities, and it’s in this person’s study that you find, among other things, books on ergodic thermodynamics. You know, just a bit of light reading while your friends are getting possessed, and reality itself is warping around you.
Damn teenagers, always on their radios, opening rifts in space-time…
December is chock-full of holidays, and regardless of their individual religious connections, there’s a very good reason for that: the winter solstice. During the darkest time of the year, when the days–let alone the nights–are freezing, and light seems to be fading from the world, people needed an excuse to be happy. Even before 2020. Today’s word isn’t the happiest, but it does fit, thematically.
fuliginous, adj. – sooty, smoky, dirty
Learned from: Darkest Dungeon (PC, Mac, mobile, Playstation 4, Playstation Vita, Switch, XBox One)
Developed by Red Hook Studios
Published by Red Hook Studios (2016)
I have a certain fondness for games that are punishingly difficult: Dark Souls and its ilk, the Shin Megami Tensei series, etc. Darkest Dungeon is no exception. Your characters are as likely to go insane from the stress of exploring your family’s estate, as they are to die of actual physical damage. Pathological fears, obsessive compulsions, and strange fixations can cripple them more than any injury or disease. And sometimes when one of them succumbs to this stress, they have some colorful, almost H.P. Lovecraft-level purple prose to accompany it–such as the occultist who cried out about the pull of the “fuliginous abyss” calling to him, or something like that, before he lunged for the clearly evil altar in the middle of the room.
So yeah, your characters will occasionally do things that are outside your control, and those things can sometimes lead to the death of your entire party, like when they activate a ritual to open a rift in time and space, and some tentacled horror picks them apart, one by one. As long as you don’t mind setbacks like that, it’s an incredible game.
I’m not going to say “happy Easter,” because most of the things that people seem to like best about the holiday are things that they really shouldn’t be doing right now. If you’re having an egg hunt, I hope it’s indoors, or that you have a fenced lawn. Much as you miss your families, you really shouldn’t have them over for dinner. And if you’re smart, you’re not going to church, because if there are a bunch of people clustered together, the virus doesn’t care where they are. It’s understandable if this makes you feel sad, frustrated, or even guilty, but staying home and staying safe is objectively more important than putting yourself and others at risk, simply because tradition calls for it. And in a roundabout way, that brings us to today’s word.
biliary, adj. – of, or relating to the bile ducts or gall bladder
Learned from: Blasphemous (Nintendo Switch, PC, Playstation 4, XBox One)
Developed by The Game Kitchen
Published by Team17 (2019)
Blasphemous is essentially Catholic Guilt: The Video Game. It’s a 2D metroidvania full of quasi-religious imagery, where everything joyful is a sin, and if a person is suffering, that means they’re blessed. It’s twisted and grim, and a perfect example of a Kickstarter project done right. You play as the Penitent One in Silence (there are other Penitent Ones with different burdens they carry), as he tries to atone for whatever sins he’s committed, by slashing his way through an oppressive world suffused with twisted faith. Your sword is gradually piercing its way into your own flesh, you regularly anoint yourself with the blood of your foes, and your health items are biliary flasks (that admittedly look more like they’re filled with blood than bile).
In short, the game is metal. Less short, it’s a beautifully realized world, with great pixel art, plenty of secrets to find, and gameplay that’s a comfortable challenge. So if you’re stuck at home today, and looking for something new to play, consider giving this one a shot.
I could make a “he is risen” joke, but that’s low-hanging fruit. Also, bad grammar.
For this entry, I find myself in the odd position of writing about a game that hasn’t been released yet. I’ll explain in a moment.
oniric, adj. – variant of oneiric: dreamlike or pertaining to dreams
Learned from: Iris and the Giant (projected platforms: PC, PS4, Switch, XBox One)
Developed by Louis Rigaud
Published by Goblinz Studio, Maple Whispering Limited (projected release: 2020)
So, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed today, and an ad for this game showed up, proclaiming it to be a “roguelike oniric deckbuilder”. I knew what two of those words meant, but I’d never heard the term “oniric” before. After looking it up, and perusing some of the screenshots on Steam, I can say it does look rather dreamlike. As a fan of deckbuilding games (100+ hours in Slay the Spire, and counting), and the randomness of roguelikes, I may have to give this one a shot whenever it comes out–I almost feel I owe it that much for already teaching me a new word.
I do love how indie games are willing to experiment with different art styles.
In the back storage room where I work, there’s a bunch of stuff that probably hasn’t been touched in years: paper files dating back almost a decade, microfilm copies of records that are older still, outdated equipment, etc. There is also, inexplicably, a plastic container of 3.5″ floppy disks, labeled, and I quote: “MICS DISCS”. Putting aside the fact that “discs” should be spelled with a K in this instance, they abbreviated “miscellaneous” wrong. Which brings to mind today’s word.
miscellaneous, adj. – not falling into any set category, having numerous and varied traits
Developed by Interplay Productions, Kemco (NES version)
Published by Activision (1989)
Dragon Wars was a first-person dungeon crawler, that had more of an RPG aspect than some other games in the genre (there were actually NPCs to talk to, and choices you made actually mattered, so it wasn’t all about the combat/puzzles). It was a difficult, at times weird game that had an unexpected amount of depth. And to some degree, that depth extended to the magic system.
There weren’t really character classes in Dragon Wars, per se, and it was really a character’s stats and training that determined what they were good at. So, you might have someone who’s really skilled in Sun Magic, but had no High Magic spells. If I remember correctly, there were five schools of magic: Low (entry-level stuff), High (better versions of Low spells, and more versatility), Sun (for those who really wanted to cast the spells that make the people fall down), Druid (less damage, more summoning), and finally, Miscellaneous. I don’t think there were many spells in Miscellaneous Magic, and thematically they didn’t seem to fit anywhere else–sort of a haste spell, and a high damage spell that wasn’t elemental or sun-based, I think. There may have been more, but I honestly don’t recall. But if it really was only that handful, it seems like they could’ve found some way to tweak them so they’d fit in a different school, and get rid of the pointless appendix that was Miscellaneous Magic.
Just like we should really just get rid of “MICS DISCS” at work. I’m sure Mic won’t miss them.
Unrelated note, but I really do miss hand-painted box art. They don’t make ’em like this anymore.
Brain Rot 