Well, what did you expect?

It’s a very busy time of year at my job, and the main thing getting me through it is the fact that we finally rid ourselves of the most toxic member of the staff. Over the past year and a half, this guy–let’s call him Chungus, because seriously fuck this guy–has stuck around despite making the lives of everyone else in the office miserable. No indoor voice, no sense of boundaries, no concept of what’s appropriate for a work conversation. He probably only lasted that long because he’s related to someone on the board. Yay, nepotism (not today’s word).

And lest you think I’m being too harsh toward someone whose worst crime is having a voice like if Rocky Balboa was a frat boy, and a laugh like Woody Woodpecker with a traumatic brain injury, there’s also the fact that Chungus was caught driving drunk with a loaded gun in his car, which he may or may not have had a license for. But even that wasn’t what finally rid us of him–no, that happened after Chungus got drunk again and started harassing one of our female coworkers outside of work, and she filed a police report. At which point, I really have to ask, just what did you think was going to happen, you stupid prick? And that brings us to today’s word.

query, verb – to ask a question (also noun – a question, itself)

Learned from: Space Rogue (Apple II, Amiga, Atari ST, Commodore 64, PC, FM Towns, Macintosh, PC-9801)

Developed by Origin Systems

Published by Origin Systems (1989)

Most people, if they’re familiar with Origin at all, probably know them as the developers of the Ultima games, but they did have other credits to their name. The Wing Commander series (which I’ve sadly never played), is probably the best-known of their other projects, but they had the odd standalone title here and there, too. Space Rogue is one of those, and for being a one-off project, it was surprisingly ambitious.

You start as a crew member aboard a ship that was sent to investigate a distress beacon (if memory serves). While you’re out on a spacewalk to investigate the small, derelict vessel, aliens attack and destroy the ship you flew in on, leaving you alone and in command of the abandoned ship you were sent to find. From there, you can…well, kinda do whatever. Try to discover why your other ship was attacked; become a pirate; learn the economies of various star systems and try to become rich as a merchant; help a robot find love; wile away your time on the game-within-a-game you can play on various space stations; just explore the galaxy, wherever the wormhole network happens to take you; etc. and so on. Space Rogue was an early example of what we think of today as an open-world sandbox; there’s no right way to play, and the story is largely optional if you want it to be. Exhausted everything to do in one star system? Pilot your way through a wormhole, and query your computer for points of interest where you end up–there’s always something new at each destination.

Speaking of the star systems, kudos to the development team for trying to account for actual physics and space hazards. Wormholes aside, planets would move in their orbits as you plotted courses to them; velocity was constant unless you fired your thrusters; inertia in dogfights felt believable; radiation and space debris were real concerns; you could crash if you tried to land too fast at a space station–this was impressive stuff for a game with 4-color CGA graphics that came on a couple of floppy disks.

The free-form open universe felt a little too open to my 7-year-old self, and I don’t think I ever beat this game, insofar as there was a way to “beat” a sandbox, sci-fi space adventure. But it was certainly different from anything I’d played at the time, and it left an impression on me, even all these years later.

Look at this guy, like he’s getting ready to drop Aldeberan’s hottest album of 1989.

Phrasing

Sometimes, you run into a game with a title that just doesn’t quite make sense. A lot of these are foreign games using English words, and maybe something got lost in translation. See: Infinite Undiscovery, Under Night In-Birth, or Chaos Zero Nightmare for a more recent example. But every so often you’ll get one from a Western developer where they clearly didn’t think things through. Such is the case with Tritryst, which is probably the least-sexy game you could imagine with a title that essentially could be read as meaning “menage a trois.” Which brings us to today’s word.

tryst, noun – a romantic encounter

Learned from: Tritryst (PC, Mac)

Developed by Cinematronics, LLC

Published by Virgin Interactive Entertainment, Inc. (1995)

Tritryst was a match-3 puzzle game. But despite the obtusely spicy title, you’re not matching up naughty bits or anything. Heck, it doesn’t even feature the fast-paced action of Columns, or even have a timer like Bejeweled, that might provide some excitement. Tritryst gives you a series of static, grid-based boards in various layouts, and gives you all the time you need to place pieces composed of three randomized colors so that you can match three in a line until you run out of room. You can rotate each piece in 90-degree increments, but that’s about it–I don’t even think they came in different shapes; I’m pretty sure they’re all straight lines.

You could almost classify Tritryst as a cozy game, since I suppose there is a certain calming appeal one could find in mulling over where to place each piece at their own pace. But honestly, I just remember it being kind of dull. I only ever played the demo, because even back then, I couldn’t see it being worth paying for. Good for winding down before going to bed at night, maybe, but nothing I could see most people playing for extended periods. And that title just had me perplexed, once I looked up what “tryst” actually meant.

Have I mentioned how much I miss the box art for old games though? Because, man I miss this kind of insanity!

Old faithful

It’s been a busy few weeks, between traveling, seeing old friends, and being short-staffed at work in between all that. But it’s finally a weekend where I don’t have anything going on, and we finally had our first snowfall of the year, so I figured this was a good opportunity to get another entry out.

I say “finally” about our first snowfall in early November, because according to people who grew up where I currently live, there used to be snow on the ground before Halloween. Consistently. But better late, than never–I still like winter, despite all the shoveling I have to do as an adult. The colder temperatures just sit well with me. I mean heck, my wife and I had our honeymoon in Iceland, where temps in the 60s (Fahrenheit) are positively balmy. And in a roundabout way, that brings us to today’s word.

geyser, noun – a hot spring which periodically boils over, sending a spray of water and steam into the air

Learned from: Space Quest (Apple IIGS, Mac, PC)

Developed by Sierra On-Line

Published by Sierra On-Line (1986)

The first game in a six-game series, Space Quest was sort of the adventure game version of Spaceballs: all ridiculous situations, jokes, and references to established sci-fi franchises. Star Wars was the main inspiration, but there’s some Star Trek, Dune, and other things sprinkled in there. You play as Roger Wilco, a space janitor who ends up embroiled in a nefarious plot that threatens the galaxy, and only he can foil the villain’s plans and save the day.

After escaping the exploding space station where he, until just recently, worked, Roger crash lands on a desert planet, and must survive the sweltering heat, deadly wildlife, a speeder bike action sequence, and unscrupulous used droid salesmen to get back to space and foil an evil alien plot. One sequence on the planet has you making your way through a cave system with a geyser that you need to plug up with a rock, so the pressure will open a secret door. Adventure game logic is really odd sometimes.

Fun fact about the word, “geyser,” though: It’s actually named after a region (and a town) in Iceland, famous for its various hot springs, mud pots, and yes, geysers. The most famous one (called Geysir–not sure why the spelling changed in English), is now largely inactive. Strokkur is the most vigorous geyser in the area, going off every couple minutes, and it is pretty spectacular.

Fun fact about Geysir, Iceland: Everywhere we went in Iceland, was multi-lingual. Street signs, restaurant menus, signs on businesses; all of them were in at least two languages. Sometimes more. In fact, during our time there, there was only one sign we ever saw that defied this rule; the sign was at Geysir, and it was written only in English. Basically, “Despite appearances, this water is incredibly hot. If you touch it, you WILL get burned. The nearest hospital is over 50km away.”

I have a photo of it somewhere, but it’s on an old laptop I haven’t used in awhile. But yeah, if you ever wonder what the rest of the world really thinks about the United States, this thinly veiled jab toward famously monolingual Americans pretty well sums it up.

Also not my photo. The laptop my Iceland photos are on is old enough that it’s not compatible with Windows 11, so it’s sat untouched for some time.

Who are you, again?

I recently attended a presentation by author, Sue Harrison, where she talked about her journey to becoming a writer. She genuinely seems like a delightful person, and her personal story was an uplifting one. But when she mentioned that she has difficulty remembering faces–to the extent that the first draft of one of her books had virtually no facial descriptions of the characters–I realized I knew the technical term for that. Which brings us to today’s word.

prosopagnosia, noun – face blindness

Learned from: Rogue Legacy (Playstation 4, Mac, mobile, Nintendo Switch, PC, Playstation 3, XBox One)

Developed by Cellar Door Games

Published by Cellar Door Games (2013)

Rogue Legacy is, as the title might suggest, a roguelike platformer. The gimmick in this one is that when your character dies, he or she is replaced by an heir you select from a few possible options. Some of the options are pretty straightforward, like the character’s class, but the cool part is that each one has a selection from a vast variety of traits they can be born with. From the innocuous (being bald), to the mildly inconvenient (colorblindness), to things like prosopagnosia, which made it so you couldn’t see any of the traits of the next generation. Not horrible, compared to something like schizophrenia (which I think showed enemies and platforms that aren’t there, while sometimes not showing ones that are), but it meant you’d have no idea what to expect on the next run.

And really, that’s what kept Rogue Legacy fun. The actual platforming and combat isn’t bad, but without the quirky results of genetic chance, the repetitive runs probably would have gotten boring before the end. It’s still a fun little game, easily worth the $15 it’ll set you back on most platforms.

Go, my balding, vampiric dwarf with ADHD! You are the hero we deserve!

Can a metaphor be a single word?

A rhetorical question, really; the answer is yes, but it’s generally harder to accomplish. Today’s word feels like an apt descriptor of…well, a lot of what’s going on lately, if you stretch it a little.

purulent, adj. – filled with, or oozing pus

Learned from: Cronos: The New Dawn (PC, Mac, Nintendo Switch 2, Playstation 5, XBox Series X/S)

Developed by Bloober Team

Published by Bloober Team (2025)

People sometimes ask me why I like horror games. “What do you find so appealing about being scared?” “Do you like watching terrible things happen to people?” Etc. and so on. Being scared can be thrilling, but I’d argue it’s the perseverance over terrible situations that’s more of a draw than witnessing them on their own. But the real answer is, in horror games (the good ones at least, that give you some agency aside from running and hiding), you can face the awful things in the world and beat them to death with a two-by-four. It’s a nice contrast to real life, where it feels like all we can do is watch powerlessly as everything just gets progressively worse. And if you have any doubts about the world ending, just look at the fact that Silksong finally came out, and we got a Silent Hill sequel that isn’t absolute dog water. We just need Valve to shadow drop Half-Life 3, and the final seal will be broken.

But today, I’m not here to talk about any of those games. Cronos: The New Dawn is a really weird, and surprisingly excellent psychological/body horror game from a studio I’d nearly given up on after the clunky and disappointing Layers of Fear, and the pretty-but-shallow The Medium. You play as a Traveler from some point in the future, diving backwards through time to…acquire certain individuals present during the outbreak of a horrible mutagenic plague that destroyed the world for…uh…reasons. I don’t want to spoil anything, because experiencing this bizarre, unsettling mindfuck of a story firsthand is actually a big part of the fun. It shouldn’t come as any surprise though, that this plague is of the icky, goopy, body-deforming variety, with early medical reports tactfully describing the horrors unfolding with terms like “purulent lesions.”

I know that Silksong stole pretty much all the thunder in the gaming scene as of the time of this writing, but there are other games that have come out recently which also deserve attention if the reviews are any indication. Looking forward to trying out Hell is Us and Silent Hill f after I finish Cronos. I’ll get to Silksong eventually, so long as the “highly unusual” meeting of hundreds of generals in Virginia next week doesn’t in fact usher in World War III….

I’d almost prefer an anomalous, reality-warping plague, personally.

My favorite time of year

Earlier today, my wife and I headed out to her folks’ place to spend part of the afternoon helping her father harvest grapes, which we will later also help him crush to turn into wine. Somewhere, there’s a photo of me grinning like a maniac, with my arms stained red damn near up to my elbows, like I just murdered somebody. Good times.

Anyway, for me, this is the official start of autumn: being out there with a cool breeze blowing over us, and a beautiful view of the changing colors of the trees on the far bank of the river, foraging through dense vines and leaves, looking for clusters of grapes hidden just out of sight. Again, good times. And that brings us to today’s word.

foliage, noun – plant leaves

Learned from: Space Quest II: Vohaul’s Revenge (Apple IIGS, Amiga, Apple II, Mac, PC)

Developed by Sierra On-Line

Published by Sierra On-Line (1987)

I have very fond memories of the Space Quest games, despite having only played the first two of them (3 and onward never came to the Apple IIGS). Comedies seemed a lot more popular when I was a kid, growing up watching movies like Naked Gun, and Police Academy. And some games got in on the action, too, particularly adventure games like The Secret of Monkey Island, which was a spoof of pirate stories, and Space Quest, which was a spoof primarily of Star Wars, but sci-fi in general. Sort of like a Temu version of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: not bad necessarily, but certainly not as polished as the name brand. I used to play these a lot with my father, laughing at the ridiculous situations Roger Wilco, janitor turned reluctant hero, would get into, and puzzling over how to get out of them.

As the title of the second game suggests, Sludge Vohaul, the series’ villain, is out for revenge against Roger for foiling his plans in the first game. He has goons kidnap you in the opening of the game, and instead of killing you, he has them take you to a remote location so you can be forced to watch the downfall of galactic society at the hands of the genetically-modified insurance salesmen he’s developed. Or something along those lines; it’s been decades since I played it.

Anyway, something goes wrong with the hovercraft the goons were transporting you on, and it crashes into the dense forest of an alien world. As you look around, the narrator comments on the lush foliage–foliage you need to hide within at least once to keep from being found by Vohaul’s reinforcements, as you try to find a way off-planet to foil his latest insane scheme.

It’s an incredibly goofy game, filled with the sort of absolute moon logic that was common to adventure games of the era (e.g., I think you have to discover and mail in an order form for some kind of space-Tazmanian devil thing at one point, to solve a certain puzzle, while making sure the creature doesn’t catch and kill you in the process). But that was part of the fun. And the days of sitting around that 8-inch screen with my dad, tossing ideas back and forth about “well, what if we tried this?” are memories I will forever cherish.

I forgot the sheer Mystery Science Theater 3000 vibes, in this box art.

Standalone

Recently, Merriam Webster shared a post about words you almost always seem used in pairs. Hem and haw; hither and yon (or hither and thither); pomp and circumstance, etc. Granted, it often only applies to one of the pairing, like “thither,” or “pomp,” since it’s pretty easy to find standalone usages of “hither” and “circumstance.” One of the other pairings brings us to today’s word.

beck, noun – a stream or creek

Learned from: The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow (PC, Mac)

Developed by Cloak and Dagger Games

Published by Wadjet Eye Games (2022)

Granted, the “beck” in “beck and call” has a different meaning, derived I would guess from “beckon,” but MW’s post reminded me of this other definition all the same.

The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow is an extraordinarily slow burn horror adventure game, with a retro pixel art aesthetic, akin to something like The Last Door. You play as Thomasina Bateman, an archaeologist who receives a letter from an old man living in the remote English village of Bewlay, detailing a forgotten burial mound that she might be interested in…well, excavating. Exactly who he is, or how he learned Thomasina’s mailing address are only the first of the mysterious goings-on. Followed swiftly by his unexplained absence when Thomasina arrives, the fact that her luggage seems to have never made the trip, and the fact that everyone in Bewlay seems a little bit…off.

For being just a pixelated point & click adventure game, Hob’s Barrow does an incredible job of building atmosphere. There’s the little village, the nearby woods (complete with beck running through them), and the endless moors surrounding it all. That’s it. The game wastes no time in establishing a feeling of complete isolation and vulnerability, considering you barely have enough money on you when you arrive to pay for a room for a night at the local inn–the rest of your funds are with your luggage…wherever that is. There’s this feeling that everyone knows everyone else, and you’re constantly under scrutiny that culminates in a real sense of not knowing who to trust, what to say, when the villagers’ grudging goodwill is going to run out, or if you’re ever truly safe. Especially when I found myself stumbling across something valuable, lying to a villager and saying it’s mine so he’ll buy it so I can have enough money to keep staying at the inn until my supplies finally (hopefully) arrive–and then running into the item’s owner the next day, and the entire time worrying that these backwoods folks are going to discover what I’ve done and descend on me, Wicker Man style or something.

This is folk horror at its finest. Thomasina is very much an outsider, and throughout most of the play time, it’s an open question whether the weird things she catches glimpses of, and the deepening paranoia are all in her head, or if something truly nefarious really is going on. It’s not a very difficult game, as adventure games go, but damn does it tell a good story.

Have remote villages with hidden pasts ever been safe places to visit in fiction?

Hindsight

We’re currently undergoing a remodel where I work, and it’s…not really going as planned. They just got all of the offices usable again, a week and a half behind schedule, the new desks they put in take up like 75% of the floor space, and one–and only one–of the offices has carpet that looks like dirty, bare concrete. It’s not mine, but I really have to wonder if the CEO just doesn’t like that particular person or something. But beyond being behind schedule, this whole project is seeming like a worse and worse idea as time goes on: We’re losing workspace on the teller line (I work in a financial institution) that we really kinda need during shift changes. No one seems to know where we’re putting the printers, since we’re losing counter space. Actually, no one seems to know what the final product is going to look like–but somehow we’re putting in a waiting area for our members…that’s going to be in the same general vicinity as the entrance to the vault. Is there going to be any sort of wall or dividing barrier between the general public and the vault door (not to mention our bathroom)?

It’s almost like nobody stopped to think this through. But hindsight is 20/20 as they say. Which brings us to today’s word.

vigesimal, adj. – base-20, as in a numeric system

Learned from: Subject 13 (Playstation 4, Mac, PC, XBox One)

Developed by Microids

Published by Microids (2015)

Subject 13 is an adventure game that came out during a time when that particular genre seemed to largely be dead, or at least forgotten. Thankfully, the genre is experiencing something of a renaissance these days, but there was a span of a good 20 years when any adventure game that actually got released was worth checking out, just for the novelty of it.

At a glance, Subject 13 paints a decent picture of itself: attractive, pre-rendered environments; a mysterious sci-fi setting; varied and creative puzzles. Seeing it in motion is…less impressive, as the animations leave something to be desired. Hearing it also doesn’t do it any favors; the sound effects feel almost public domain, and the voice acting is flat-out bad (though, I understand the developer is French, so English dubbing might’ve been lower on their budget list than the rest of it. Not every small French game studio can have the production values of the folks at Sandfall). But again, pickings were slim in those days, so any port in a storm. Speaking of…

The real issues I had with the game though, are with the console port. I played this on PS4, and in converting it for that console (and presumably the XBone), Microids made some of the most baffling decisions I’ve ever seen. Some of it’s understandable: There’s no mouse interface (and nobody programmed for that touchpad thing on the PS4 controllers). So rather than just clicking where you want your character to go, you have to stumble around the not-as-big-as-they-look pre-rendered backdrops like a drunken orangutan, trying to get your guy to go up a flight of stairs or whatever. That’s…acceptable. The baffling part is pretty much everything else.

See, a lot of the puzzles require you to manipulate objects in ways that, again, would’ve been intuitive with a mouse. But for the console release, virtually everything requires you to hold down a trigger, and then rotate a thumbstick, regardless of whether it makes any sense or not. Turning a dial? Rotate the thumbstick. Sliding a panel? Rotate the thumbstick. Trying to enter a number into a device? Rotate the damn thumbstick! And it’s even worse, because the sensitivity on this interface is all over the damn map. You could be trying to move some device one notch to the left, but have to rotate the thumbstick in the opposite direction you’d expect, only to have it whip past half a dozen notches before you can stop. It is legitimately one of the worst control schemes I’ve ever come across, and when you combine it with the awful navigation to get your guy from point A to point B, it made some of the otherwise inventive puzzles almost unplayable.

I realize I haven’t talked about the story yet, and while it’s also a bit of a mess, I should at least do broad strokes. You play as Franklin Fargo, a professor who’s tried to end his own life by driving his car off a bridge, for reasons that become clearer as the game goes on. But your plan is foiled when you find yourself waking up in a futuristic pod, with no idea of where you are, how you got there, or if you can trust the disembodied voice that starts talking to you. But the voice eventually leads you, GLADoS-style, through an abandoned research facility and into a bizarre plot involving the nature of consciousness, multiverse theory, and Mayan prophecies (heavily leaning into puzzles based on their vigesimal number system). It’s…weird. Nowhere near as unhinged as, say, Indigo Prophecy, but it really does try to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. And in an adventure this short, that’s a pretty tall order.

All in all, Subject 13 isn’t a bad game, per se, but it’s certainly rough around the edges–even without the limitations of the console versions. If you’re curious, I can only in good conscience tell you to pick it up on Steam, and avoid the awful PS4/XBox ports.

Speaking of awful, just look at this, and tell me you see anything but the concrete floor of a steel mill that’s been abandoned for years. The other carpeting jobs are nowhere near this bad.

Here comes the new boss

It’s always a little surreal for me, when a piece of news takes the world by storm, and I personally end up finding it hard to care less. Nothing against those who do, but when all everyone’s talking about is some British monarch getting married, or some celebrity having a baby, and I’m sitting here with my life not having changed one bit, it’s just…weird. It’s the same thing with the new pope. But since it’s functionally the only piece of news for the day, I figure I may as well use it as a lead in for another word.

zealot, noun – a religious fanatic

Learned from: Diablo II (PC, Mac)

Developed by Blizzard North

Published by Blizzard Entertainment (2000)

Okay, okay, put down the pitchforks and stop building the pyre, because–plot twist–this word is not in any way a direct commentary on the new or previous pope. Francis seemed like a genuinely kind, compassionate person from what little I read about him in the news, and while Leo, the new guy, might get less glowing reviews from the LGBTQ community, he doesn’t sound too bad overall. If nothing else, any prominent figure who pushes back against the policies of the current US government has to have something good going for them. Because honestly, the red hats seem to embody zealotry far more than Pope Leo–his followers might actually hold him to certain standards of conduct.

But enough about real-world cultists; let’s talk Diablo II. Act 3 of the game takes you to a sprawling jungle, filled with ruined temples, sodden caves, and enough dead-ends and switchbacks to make it my least-favorite section simply due to all the backtracking. But amidst all the tribes of poison dart-spitting pygmies and swarms of giant spiders, you’d find bands of crazed followers of…I think he was a fallen paladin, or something? It’s been a pretty long time, but I remember having to cut my way through swathes of zealots at various points, to press forward. That, and the fact that they were about the only things in the entire bloody jungle that weren’t poisonous in some way, shape, or form.

The fact that I have so few solid memories of Act 3 is a testament to how little impact it left on me, despite being one of the bigger parts of the game. But even the bad parts of Diablo II can still be pretty fun…sometimes.

Dimly lit, full of dead-end paths, broken up by rivers that make progress take even longer…I can’t defend this. I’m not in a cult.

Everything old is new again

Pixel graphics! ’80s references across all of popular media! The stock market crashing! Retro is in, baby, and it’s only a matter of time before 3D glasses make a comeback in movie theaters again…assuming theaters survive the streaming wars. But hey, paying way too much to go see a movie in dirty room full of loud people is totally retro too, so maybe there’s hope! Anyway, this all does lead us to today’s word.

anaglyph, noun – an image printed in two different colors overlayed across each other, to give the illusion of being in three dimensions when viewed through special glasses

Learned from: Balatro (PC, Mac, mobile, Playstation 4, Playstation 5, Nintendo Switch, XBox One, XBox Series X/S)

Developed by LocalThunk

Published by Playstack (2024)

Balatro, if you’ve been living under a rock for the past year, or you’re reading this in the future, is a deconstruction of the roguelike deckbuilding genre, where there are no monsters, no dungeons, no trips across the stars–just poker. Your cards are literal playing cards that can be modified in various ways to give more points, generate more money, trigger multiple times, generate other cards, etc. It’s a game that you really have to play to understand its appeal, but it’s simple, addictive, and worth every penny.

As you play and learn winning combos, Balatro offers you ways to up the challenge, from decks that are missing cards, to higher stakes runs that impose restrictions on what you can do. But the further you go, the more you unlock, and beating the game on the “black chip” difficulty unlocks the Anaglyph Deck, which gives you a free double tag whenever you beat the boss blind at the end of an ante. That probably doesn’t mean much if you haven’t played it, but it can be a useful bonus. If you’re lucky.

Once upon a time, these were the coolest thing. I swear.