The Sensation of Alienation

All works and no play makes Pash a dull boy.


I can’t help but feel Marx warned us about this

Super Paper Mario for the Wii did indeed have you briefly engage in menial work in order to progress the story at one point, which was a phenomenal surrealism to me at the time in terms of gaming getting real with it. Maybe not so much in the way that it falls in line with a regular bemusement of mine “it always starts out as a joke”, but that Nintendo was actually ready to run with said joke and make it a real thing you did in a real video game. This isn’t a post about that, but the thought did pop into my mind as I decided how much time I had to write about anything before more or less needing to get ready for work while I was indeed having fun.


Fun might be a strong word

Which is fair, in a sense, as depending on what one is doing in the world of gaming, “playing” can indeed take on different kinds of tenuous forms of relevancy, and these new or less traditional forms of play evolve or devolve, depending on how you look at things, into a more tedious form of labor, I suppose. A labor of love could be a sentiment used to pad the blow of some of the monotony involved with grinding, for example, whether it be just for levels or for a rare gear drop, but the idea stands firm, I would conclude. In my case, playing in the form of work is very literal in a sense, as while I may not care about monetizing Active Time Event, I do try to treat it as a labor of love, and respectfully tackle the subject material with as much gusto as I can feasibly muster given the circumstances.


What I look like after a night of work totally sleep deprived
dying to the same boss in Elden Ring for the 50th time thinking
of a way to transmute tears into punchlines for my next article

Which is why today’s post feels so meandering, I gather. Time is of the essence, this much is always true, when one is fighting against a self-imposed deadline, it would be quite easy to just wipe clean the slate of responsibility with the dry erase marker with the word “Exception” emblazoned upon the side, but then where would the challenge in that be? That does remind me of another great example of non-traditional play in the form of practicing hard games, which can completely deviate from any idea of traditional fun and go full on straight up ludicrous in terms of just how painstakingly difficult the entire session becomes.


Don’t look at the time playing games like Super Meat as insane
bloodletting, view it through the lens of having spilled gallons
of dedication into the experience

I think I did kind of derail my own point there, but I am obviously feeling ranty. Writing about games in essence has a certain burden of proof attached to it within the regards of authenticity or legitimacy I suppose one could say. There is the idea of that extreme efficiency is needed in a number of facets, as one has to get through games, pouring many hours into them, maybe experimenting with multiplayer, testing the title even of sorts, just to finally know what to really hone in on when writing about the game in it’s finalized conceptual form within one’s own brain. That same idea is part of the reason I find writing about either really high quality video games or “safe bets” as it were, almost difficult in a mundane sort of way, as the difficulty lies in the inherent lack of challenge in discussing the title, cause everything just works, is top notch, tons of fans, everyone is looking forward to it, nearly flawless etc. The whole process nearly strains the imagination to even come up with some legitimate feedback that doesn’t come off as apple polishing or at the very least, intellectually worthy on some basic level.


Some games struggling with that worthy merit more than others

To wit: I recently beat Cadence of Hyrule the other day, which is kind of what I wanted to talk about, but between a lack of energy and time, didn’t really feel like I was going to do the title justice in my writings. However, it does relate to the topic at hand here, as while I find myself delighted by the game in it’s entirety, I find that it’s almost inherently less interesting to talk about than the game it was based off of, Necrodancer, as the title is just more polished and ultimately more enjoyable to play, leaving a lot less room for interesting critique involved with the imaginary world I have contended with. I know I might be a bit of a weirdo in that regard, but I can’t help but feel in order for one to feel truly engaged in whatever their doing, gaming or not, they must be fundamentally discontented while doing so, in order to achieve some new form of thought, act of becoming, state of being etc, as traveling outside of one’s comfort zone, even if not literally speaking, pushing one towards a new level of understanding or perspective.


Think this, but less strange

So in the idea of not having more time to do fuller write ups involving Castlevania or Zelda related material, and wanting to issue myself a mini challenge by doing something more creatively endeavoring than just a small report on a headline, I leave you with just a few of these brief thoughts to ponder in your moments to come. Cheers.

~Pashford

Ruminating on Reminiscence

Last time, on Active Time Event Z!(?)


Guys, my post about hell related activities was two posts ago…

My intent in breaking down a flashback/retrospective into multiple parts mid-story was not entirely hellish in motivation, but is exactly the kind of nonsense anime would in fact pull. I want to say Naruto did it so infamously, I seem to recall them referencing the very same episode they were still in *with a fucking flashback*.


Anyone want to break the news to him?

Having a healthy sense of self-awareness is key in the creative process I find, and I didn’t mind splitting my reflections between two different posts. Firstly, because I was already happy with the amount of content I got out of part one, but secondly, I did in fact wait too long between writing the piece, and editing and formatting it yesterday, finding me essentially running out of time to get the post up before midnight. The whole thing worked out in the end, but let it never be said that sometimes, no amount of crunch is going to help you finish the fight in time.


*Sets alarm to go off for three years later*

So I push on into part two of reflecting on further extrapolation involving recent gaming fumblings and writing endeavors abound.

Next up on the list was a piece entitled “Rhythm and Flow“, and like many articles I’ve “keyed”, the final product in no way, shape, or form resembled what I had set out to do. My introduction and very title of the article itself was suppose to be a ramp up and direct reference to my time with Necrodancer, which I will be getting to here shortly. While I did touch upon Multiversus again (I’ll spare you the indignities of smut related Scooby Doo photos this time around), I more or less just discussed writing about games…in my writing about games, the article not really focusing on anything but itself and the process. Kind of a self-referential nothingness that made up the core backbone of the concept at hand.


That something of nothingness, as it were

Which is fine enough, as I love talking shop and the behind the scenes involving the process…and beyond the very ideas of the games themselves. I guess my only surprise is the articles I have written this year, which have kind of more or less detailed the process of writing about games, and the personalization of the matter through a more active voice in the process, have ended up being more popular, which comes as a pleasant surprise. I think even outside the insanely twisted world of narcissistic intent or the demented trappings that may drive an egoist, one still remains keen on hearing their work is of worthwhile pursuit, or at the very least of some relevantly entertaining quality.


Which doesn’t always turn out to be the case, I hear

Which finally does bring me to my thoughts on Necrodancer, which definitely were amongst some of my more complex imaginations involving my recent gaming musings. I haven’t played a game in a grand while which kind of had me rethinking the very essence of my being, in a sense, which is downright mad in some ways, as the game isn’t really intended to be a thinking man’s gaming. Not to say it’s a dumb experience at all, I gave the title props overall for it’s sense of solid decency in paying tribute to the gaming giants of yore that had inspired it. Necrodancer is just a very gamey game, in a sense. You really have to feel it instead of think it, the title possessing a strong sense of what I refer to as “finger feel”. If you’re familiar with the idea of “mouth feel” and how that relates to one’s personal experience, you get a sense of what I’m alluding to.


Though I understand why the phrasing may evoke more illicit
connotations for some

All of that and more is why I felt utterly compelled to discuss the game at greater length, as I was just so baffled at how a game, which I accredit as possessing what I feel has an objective kind of quality about it, ends up being one I am seemingly not particularly fond of, but then felt the need to play for over a hundred hours across the last five months. So many mixed messages, and to what point and purpose am I so perplexedly wrapped up in this paradoxical web Necrodancer has so superbly crafted with which to ensnare me?


Tootsie pop levels of existentialist dread is what we are
confronted with here

I’m still not entirely sure how to distill the essence of my issues involving Necrodancer down to their finer elements, but I was lucky enough to happen upon a passage from Being and Nothingness that helped in assisting me make sense of it all. The tome in question details many thoughts relating to existentialism from philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, and the example he gives that relates to Necrodancer and I is essentially a process of becoming: the self continually having the freedom in how it will define itself, and that is through the essence of moments and projects one could even consider a mission of sorts. Nearly a compartmentalization involving a process akin to self-actualizing, which I quite like. Cause whether it be a concept like Necrodancer, or a sentient entity like a me, we aren’t ever all good or bad at any given moment, but we are always becoming more of the what-we-end-up-being, which is indeed a continued intensification of the greyest variety.

Though, such an abstract take away likely wouldn’t fly for what would be in consideration as a “legitimate” game review, let alone a fetching splash quote you emblazon on the metaphysical back of the box with.


“The ideal experience for any gamer who wasn’t sure whether
or not they were.” ~Pashford Murano

I realized I’m speaking about a couple of different articles here interchangeably, so apologies for the confusion. My series of articles entitled “Fire in the Disco“, “Existential Elegy“, and “Radical Hyrule Rhythm” all kind of represent distinct structural attempts in terms of writing approach, in making up some faux trilogy of Necrodancer inspired thoughts. “Disco” being my usual ranty off the cuff Op-Ed where the goal is improvisationally charged, gonzo fueled deconstructionist madness, “Elegy” being a more straight faced dressing down of analytical nature, and “Radical” being the most basically structured piece of traditional gaming journalism. I realize “Radical” is indeed detailing Cadence of Hyrule and not Necrodancer itself, but you can see the relation as to why something with so much rizz was included in the grand scheme of things.

That screenshot is not even from the right Zelda game!
Who’s editing this?

I did also write a buffer segway entitled “Legend of Being Tired“, which was a result of me genuinely not knowing if I wanted to publish “Elegy” without any jokes or attempts of humor imbued in the piece what so ever, as I really had never done so before (intentionally) with any of my other writing. I therefore had to write a quickie in order to meet my currently working quota of a write up a day, without spoiling the idea of finalizing an article without the need to crutch on jokes, and see if the piece stood by itself sans punchlines or visual gags. The final pieces all help to flesh out some great ideas in a fashionably multi-dimensional kind of way, so I remain happy at the execution there after.


A surprisingly common happening when the Legend of Zelda
is involved

While I am not done discussing the complex inner turmoil Necrodancer has spawned within me, we will put the matter to bed for the present time and forge on to other recent reminiscences. Some of my last write ups were of a briefer nature; my quickie on The First Descendant underscored just how blatantly uninspired GaaS experiences can be, with the barest of bones bog standard looter shooter title that wants you to cough up dough on it’s fugly design and mind-numbing tedium without giving you absolutely any motivation to do so. I was wondering if I would even summon the energy to force myself into justifying another moment of energy wasted on the ill-conceived monstrosity, but considering I basically struggled to make it through even the first hour of gameplay upon my initial test drive, I think this flop is as good as parked.


Pictured: Somehow related

I did originally report on a new trailer for a Doom 1+2 bundle that was showcased at Quakecon recently as having a load of new features being available, including a new chapter: Legacy of Rust. I was operating under the impression all of this was going to be retroactively patched into other versions of Doom 1 and 2 ports already available, but I may have been incorrect about that assessment, as my digital copies of both remain unaltered. I will happily purchase the bundle if need be, as there are few delights in gaming life that match the splendor and smell of fresh hell to liven up the morning.


These guys know what I’m talking about

Wrapping up, I did indeed provide another update on my thoughts involving Multiversus, but I feel as if we’ve covered the topic as extensively as need be and or as much as anyone would want…outside of the sickened machinations and indignities involved with the perversity of the Scooby Doo fandom.


Scooby, Don’t

Leaving us with my last article I wrote that we can reflect on, entitled Reflecting on Reflection…


(Kidding)

~Pashford

Radical Hyrule Rhythm

My last *major* writing endeavor involved a more somberly self-reflective look at myself, gaming, and how the two help to actualize each other.


And I didn’t even make one lewd joke while excitedly doing so

I guess it was good fortune that I was feeling so exhausted when writing the past couple of days, as it gave me the ability to deliver an article when I thought I couldn’t at all, and prove to myself that the writing doesn’t always need a quick 1,2 punchline to justify itself. I realize my articles are never truly exhaustive in what they cover, as I feel they represent more of a creature comfort companion compendium, representing more the idea of the game and the experience itself, nearly going full gonzo in the process.


Though one should be weary when going full gonzo

With that in mind, and in a lucky coincidence of cosmic forces coalescing into a chaotic cacophony of complimentary collaboration , I follow my write up of a Zelda game coming out, with a Zelda game I slept on in the most bizarre happen stance, and one that happens to be a spin-off of Crypt of the Necrodancer: Cadence of Hyrule (CoH), in all of it’s crazy Zelda glory.



I have previously joked about what terrible research I had done involving the title, and I sure wasn’t kidding, or at least, the sentiment started out as a joke, but the premise for the laughs ended up being as real as can be. I’m not one to usually harbor expectations, though in the world of gaming, I usually have a pretty good beat on things, so seeing a project from a far, I can usually surmise or otherwise stipulate what likely awaits for me, even before diving into the experience head first.



That’s where Cadence of Hyrule delightfully blew my assumed expectations straight out of the Hylian water. Here I had thought perhaps this was going to be some cheap skin swap, with most of the original Necrodancer being largely intact, with just a fresh coat of Zelda paint slathered all over the experience…but by the three goddesses, how wrong I was. While the core elements of Necrodancer are intact (mostly), the entire experience is utterly enhanced by it’s fusion with the Zelda pedigree, and the entire game benefits tremendously as a result. I think, as follow up to the original, Cadence of Hyrule is perhaps one of the biggest embodiment’s of quality of life features I’ve seen in a series in a long time.



As mentioned, most of what made Necrodancer tick is still present, but the concentration on infusing the Zelda games is front and center in the best way possible. Having said that, as much as I am a fan of Zelda games, the titles aren’t know for their overly complex narratives, especially the 2d adventures, and CoH isn’t any different. A flimsy premise to get the main character from the Necrodancer series to Hyrule, and a big bad trying to take over, this time in the most musically themed way possible. The whole hing is a bit silly, but I’m not sure there is a straight faced way to lay down the plot work with anything less than absurdist execution.



CoH takes a lot of overall cues from Link to the Past, though the visuals are more reminiscent of Minish Cap. Though, the game overall cherry picks a bunch of different and elements from various Zelda titles, so just about any generation of Zelda player will likely feel very cozy. While the randomized nature of the maps ala Necrodancer is still intact (save for plot relevant geopgraphic staples), the game still feels unabashedly Zelda like in it’s physical form. Both times I played through the demo felt very unique, without feeling cheap or vacant either run. A good sign when a demo creates an immediate urgency for prompting replayability.



To that point, there are still mini hollows to discover in CoH, much like with any Zelda title that has bomb destroyable walls or hidden staircases covered by bushes. There remains an overworld, alongside a dedicated dungeon, so one isn’t just trudging through floor after floor of similar looking dungeons over and over again like the original Necrodancer, which really adds to the variety of exploration the game has to offer, which is exactly what you want to hear in reference to any Zelda experience.



Just like most other Zelda titles, you do have a slew of equipment in which you can arm yourself to better fight the hordes of Hyrule. I know Necrodancer had loads in terms of items to choose from, but with the more randomized nature of the dungeon layout, it always felt too few and far between. CoH is a far more localized experience thanks to the overworld, and they wisely put a save and continue (plus warp!) system in place so that inspite of the games difficulty (in keeping the spirit of Necrodancer alive), you can jump right back into the action with little progress lost. Though you lose some consumables upon death, you keep the overwhelming majority of the gear and upgrades you’ve acquired. Between the time saving checkpoint system and a dedicated inventory that sticks with you between lives, these are some of the big QoL changes I was discussing in reference to why this game was such a breath of fresh air comparatively speaking to it’s OG counter part.



CoH makes a lot of little leaps and bounds in making the entire package feel more robust. Even small/not so small elements, like the ability to block using your shield, or the more readily available health is key in making the whole game feel way more polished. Other moments, like the game having more verticality to play with in terms of level design, a map you can reference, no strict time limit like the original to contend with, dedicated save files to reference, what felt as if a more robust, built out boss fight…Cadence of Hyrule has so many ridiculous improvements over Necrodancer, it honestly makes the the original game feel like a beta in comparison.



I’m curious as to how much of this progression in game design was a natural one, and how much the devs had to collaborate with Nintendo to make sure it got the seal of approval, whatever the case may be, Cadence of Hyrule doesn’t even feel like a derivative title at all, and feels like it belongs right next to any mainline Zelda title that I’ve had the privilege to enjoy, and that’s coming from someone who had mixed feelings about the original in it’s entirety…and I’ve only just played the demo a couple of times!



Needless to say, I’m pumped to finally scrounge up the money to buy the full title as soon as I can. While I admit to having a heavy Zelda bias, there have been examples in the past of non-Nintendo backed spin offs, with varying degrees of concern in terms of relative quality to said entry. Also, as previously stated, just the fact they didn’t do a lazy palette swap was a relief enough, but they really went up and beyond to craft a love letter to the series in an immaculate fashion. With a banging soundtrack and classic gameplay to boot, I’m kicking myself for missing out on Cadence of Hyrule when it first launched. Bring on more of that radical Hyrule Rhythm, pronto.

~Pashford

Fire In The Disco

My post from yesterday detailed my yearning to continue a consistent regiment of writing, my desire to play more video games, and my lusting of perverse enjoyment combining the two. Characters from Scooby-Doo were involved as well, in all of their memetastic glory.


Let’s hope these are the only dogs Shaggy has ever tried to deep throat

I ended up entitling yesterday’s post Rhythm and Flow, which ended up fitting in with the theme of the article quite well, though I think the title was intended for a write up on my time with Crypt of the Necrodancer, in all of it’s rhythmic glory. I know I’m super late to the party on this, as the game came out almost a decade ago, which comes of as a shocking realization that I have that kind of a backlog issue, but it’s been known to happen.


A picture of my unattended gaming backlog

I had downloaded the title absolutely forever ago, though not upon it’s initial release. Don’t get me wrong, what the game was touted for was absolutely checking all my boxes, as I always enjoyed indie darlings, rogue-likes, and rhythm gaming for the better part of my gaming life. However, the game fell off my radar due to any number of reasons, and only popped back on it when I heard they were releasing a Zelda themed version of the title in the form of Cadence of Hyrule, which came out on the Switch. In a blind fury, I ended up downloading Crypt first, missing the ever important memo that Cadence of Hyrule was in fact a stand alone title, and not an expansion add-on.


I do the worst fucking research

Which, I guess came as such a colossal disappointment for me at the time, I bowed my head in shame and turned away, not even trying out the base game the Zelda themed one was based on…*and* even a game I had just proclaimed enough interest in I had just downloaded it. I don’t know what my logic was at the moment, leaving me guessing at what kind of a rough time I was having back in mid 2019………
Ah, never mind. I just double checked what else I was playing around then, and I was in the midst of beating Sekiro.


Not days filled with puppies and rainbows from what I recall

Definitely a bizarre set of circumstances, especially in my total dismissal of playing a game I was so excited to try after finally acquiring it, but I’m reminded of old habits dying hard, looking over at a still unopened copy of a special edition of Fallout 3 I got at launch and continue to wonder what the actual hell is wrong with me sometimes. Fast forward years later, and seemingly out of nowhere, the itch to challenge myself makes itself known, and the power of the dance floor of the tortured and the damned beckons for me to enter the cursed realm of music madness once again.


Err…not *that* cursed

I say “again” in reference to my long standing graces with rhythm gaming in general, not yet the untarnished Necrodancer of which I speak. I have a slight history with the genre in some regard, as I was cutting my teeth on novelties like PaRappa The Rapper and Gitaroo Man even before I started ripping up dance pads with DDR in the arcades. All of that eventually led to enjoying Singstar, ultimately leading down a long and winding road involving a legendary run with the Guitar Hero and Rock Band series, and even a real life stint as a karaoke host, but I digress.


What I looked like towards the end of my run with Guitar Hero
and Rock Band

Returning to my point, and after a long dormancy, I was finally ready to try my hand at Necrodancer, to give myself what I felt had been an inordinately damning and calcifying slumber.


At that moment, I had Big Malcolm energy, for sure

You might be thinking: but Pash, how could you compare your time with Necrodancer to the captialistic hellscape of Jurassic Park? People died on that tour! Yes, and I died inside…a hellish number of times, in my endless attempts at beating this god damn game. I had heard stories of Necrodancers mad difficulty levels, so I had not gone in completely unaware of the titles bastardly reputation, but I was use to punishing experiences and the nightmares that both rogue-likes and rhythm games were known for.




Pain is an old friend

So imagine my surprise when Necrodancer just utterly stomps the ever living shit out of my hopes and dreams as easy as it would be to tear me apart like wet bread. Based on all of the metrics involved, there is no reason to foolishly think the game will be anything less than grueling, but the games charming nature and cute visuals do emanate a deceptively disarming atmosphere in helping you to drop your guard. Even as I play now, with a load of experience under my belt, I always joke to myself the difference between a great run and a failed one is about three seconds.


Pictured: The three seconds following my proclamation “wow,
what a great run this is turning out to be.”

And of course, to add insult to injury, since the game is randomized every time, memorizing layouts doesn’t work, only retaining strategies for enemies does. So, feeling like a Mario player who has just died to the first Goomba, I knew I was going to have to swallow my pride, dust myself off, and try again. The irony of all of this is I seemingly enjoy putting myself through the ringer for tough video games, but then curse their name all the while I am doing it. It leaves me scratching my head; do I enjoy loss? Am I somehow addicted to it? Is that why I see it everywhere I go?


So much loss really steams my hams

The more I ponder the reality, the more I settle on the idea it must be true, given the circumstances, and the patterns I’ve exhibited over my many decades of gaming. To that point, while it did take me five entire months, over a hundred hours, and likely scores of deaths more than that to accomplish, I did indeed finally best the Necrodancer, in all of his fiendish fuckery. Though predictably, and inspite of of my hard fought accomplishment, I still wanted more, as it didn’t sit right with me I had only beaten the core content of the experience doing single zone mode runs, and not all four in one go.


Just straight up Ledckying my in-game leaderboards

Luckily, at that point, I had mounds of experience on my side, and felt as if I was finally able to perform a precise, meticulous operation, this time with a scalpel in hand and not a chainsaw. Though, I did concoct the thought perhaps I should download this game again on a platform with trophies attached to it this time, as I have poured far too many hours into this ball-bustingly excruciating experience to not claim and show off some fake internet points, dammit.


Seen here: an example of Sony’s trophy system working in real time

And in a big stroke of luck, likely compounded by my hours of turmoil with Necrodancer, I downloaded and in a single session beat an all zones mode my first night. Here I thought I was to face another litany of weeks involving failed attempts and near wins galore, with failures of spectacular fashion to follow suit. But no…one night, done and dusted. I think the most peculiar thing about my time with Necrodancer is not whether I think the game is a well made one, mind you, but whether or not I truly like it. Granted, though I do not feel as if the game is an immaculate hybrid, as I don’t reach the same flow state as I do with other purely focused rhythm games, nor do I feel the same adrenaline pumping tension that comes with purely focused rogue-likes, I feel as if the Necrodancer still stands as a polished milestone paying solid tribute to the games that have paved the way for it.

How then, in my right mind and in the name of sanity, am I not able to discern whether the hell I actually enjoyed all of this or not?

*record scratch*

~Pashford