Welcome to another edition of GameSpotting, where our only defenses against the mad bomber are a bucket of water and our wits. Our heads are squarely in the past this week, and we spend our time discussing the merits of 2D graphics, our first games, and our first television sets, among other things. Unlike Kaboom!, though, GameSpotting isn't a one-way street. We encourage you to participate by submitting your own GuestSpotting column, or sharing your thoughts on the feature in our forums.

　　Down to Two Dimensions

　　Greg Kasavin/Executive Editor

　　"Recently, I was reminded that 3D polygonal graphics still haven't entirely surpassed 2D game art."

　　Previews of Games That Don't Exist #2

　　Justin Calvert/Associate Editor

　　"My Street meets There meets Animal Crossing meets lager in Pub Quest--coming probably never to a PC near you."

　　The New Guy

　　Sarju Shah/Associate Hardware Editor

　　"Woo! I'm the proud winner of a disability concussion in the first week."

　　Go Small or Stay Home

　　Tyler Winegarner/Associate Producer, GameSpot Live

　　"I have conducted my entire career as a gamer on the same television."

　　Everyone Has To Start Somewhere

　　Greg Mueller/Associate Data Producer

　　"Ten or 20 years from now games will be far more influenced by the Grand Theft Auto series than by Mario or Zelda--and that's not necessarily a bad thing."

　　Frustratingly Fun?

　　Nick Mendez/GuestSpotter

　　"It's downright infuriating when you get the feeling that the game is cheating on its own rules just to beat you."

　　John Romero: Mentor, Hero, Role Model

　　This Could Be You, Jr./Imaginary GuestSpotter

　　Want to give a shout out to your favorite game, favorite game developer, or favorite game controller? Read up on our GuestSpotting FAQ to find out how!

　　Down to Two Dimensions

　　Back in the mid-'90s, I imported a Sony PlayStation within days of the system's release in Japan. To afford this investment, which cost me nearly $1,000 what with all the games and accessories I wanted along with the machine, I sold my NeoGeo and all its games. (Later, however, I bought most of this back.) In turn, I originally bought the NeoGeo mostly from money I earned from selling my Super Nintendo Entertainment System and all my games for that system. And, of course, I bought my SNES with money I earned from trading in my Nintendo Entertainment System and all those games. I acquired a number of other game systems on the side, but, in retrospect, I'd say I put this particular chunk of money to good use over time. And while I still have that old first-generation PlayStation--and it still works great--it reminds me of how mixed my feelings were in giving up the ultimate 2D game system for the ultimate 3D game system. I think most any longtime game player has a soft spot for hand-drawn 2D graphics, and recently, I was reminded that 3D polygonal graphics still haven't entirely surpassed 2D game art.

　　My favorite video game artwork all comes from 2D games, like Samurai Shodown II.

　　I'm honestly surprised at this. Though I was first in line for a PlayStation, I was at least somewhat reluctant about the shift from 2D to 3D that it represented. Latter-day SNES games, like Super Metroid and Chrono Trigger, just looked so good with their expressive, smoothly animated, highly detailed 2D sprites. Yet the PlayStation and, to a lesser extent, the Sega Saturn boasted characters and objects that seemed like you could reach out and touch them. That was the difference. 2D gaming had subtlety, while 3D gaming had texture. I always held out some hope that, well, it would just be a few more years before all the best aspects of 2D gaming were appropriated by the new 3D gaming systems out there. I needed to think this, after all, because 2D gaming essentially died along with arcades. Many of my favorite game series transitioned from 2D to 3D--we're talking everything from Mario to Mortal Kombat--and there was clearly no turning back.

　　Ironically, the popularity of the Game Boy Advance, along with the rising popularity of mobile gaming, is causing a 2D renaissance of sorts. Despite the radical advancements to polygonal graphics that we've seen during the past few years, there's something about sprite-based graphics that can still be immensely appealing.

　　Ragnarok Online looks nothing like all the EverQuest knockoffs out there, and this plays a big part in its appeal.

　　The graphics found in 2D fighting games always impressed me most of all. I memorized what seemed like every pixel on every character in games like Street Fighter II and Samurai Shodown and was astounded at how the artists working on those games could capture such a sense of each respective character's power and personality with just a pixel here and a pixel there. I was blown away by how these immensely popular characters, like King of Fighters' Iori or Street Fighter II's Ryu, displayed facial expressions that were really nothing more than a few well-placed dots. Likewise, their attacks would consist of exactly the right number of frames of animation to make them appear powerful and distinct.

　　My problem with 3D graphics in games--and it's always been my problem with 3D graphics in games--is that they're unedited. You can often view the action from any angle, and frames of animation are typically never skipped. In a way, then, I think the cinematic power of gaming almost took a step back with the transition from 2D to 3D. 2D game characters are displayed precisely how the artist chooses to display them to you. There is no extraneous frame of animation to be found. 3D game characters, meanwhile, are yours to control, so you may rotate them and view them from whichever unflattering angle you like.

　　I mostly gave up on playing platformers when they went from 2D to 3D. I felt like they all lost their souls.

　　When you watch a movie, you don't question the fact that the movie is a series of carefully contrived camera shots. You typically don't find yourself wishing you could see the action from another perspective. You don't dream of rotating the scene to your desired angle or anything like that. Or if you do find yourself wishing these things, it's hopefully because that's exactly what the movie director wants you to be feeling, such as during a claustrophobic scene in a horror movie. I equate 2D game graphics to this sort of model. They are purely intentional. Every little detail that's put into 2D art is meant to be seen, whereas with 3D graphics, some of the angles, perspectives, animations, and effects may be incidental or accidental.

　　For a variety of reasons, I've been playing a lot of 2D games again lately. I'm playing the classic Super Mario World on my Game Boy Advance, which I maintain is far superior to any of the 3D Mario games. I'm playing Ragnarok Online, a charming online role-playing game whose visual style is ripped straight from Final Fantasy Tactics. And after hours at the office, I'm playing Ultimate Mortal Kombat 3 with Jeff, gradually regaining my long-lost skills. I'm also itching to spend more time with Metal Slug 3 on my Xbox. These games have collectively proven to be a refreshing change of pace, even from some of the truly great polygonal games I've played lately.

　　I still think 2D games handle collision detection (or the interaction between two characters or objects) better than 3D games do, on average. And having good collision detection is one of the most fundamentally important aspects of just about any game. Likewise, I think 2D game characters still have the capacity to display more-lifelike emotions than 3D game characters do.

　　Maybe "lifelike" isn't the best choice of a word. 3D graphics can certainly look more lifelike than 2D graphics can. Motion-capture technology allows for animation that looks flat-out human. But when I play games, I don't necessarily want to see anything mundane. I prefer exaggerated or otherwise imaginative looks to my games, so I don't think it's coincidental that some of the most memorable-looking, best-looking games I've ever played feature 2D artwork. I'm also glad to have realized lately that, much as I suspected a decade ago, 2D graphics will never completely go out of style.

　　Previews of Games That Don't Exist #2

　　Since Pub Quest is a game that exists only in my own mind, it seems reasonable to assume that the following preview is a GameSpot exclusive. Development on the game is currently zero-percent complete, and there has been absolutely no interest expressed by any of the publishers that I come into contact with on a daily basis. Being in the unique position to have spent a little time playing the game in my head, however, I am pleased to report that it's coming along nicely.

　　Pub Quest is essentially a collection of pub-themed games that you'll be able to play against other gamers that you meet in virtual pubs with names like The Jolly Abbot, The Red Lion, and The Pig and Whistle. Each "pub hub" will basically be a chat room-style meeting place capable of supporting up to 200 players simultaneously, and with the appearance of, you've guessed it, a fully 3D pub. Once you've created your "pub patron" avatar, you'll be free to visit any pub that isn't already at capacity.

　　Anybody fancy a game of dominoes?

　　The avatar creation system in Pub Quest will be a little different from those in more conventional online games insomuch as your avatar's appearance will, to a certain extent, be determined by the answers you give to a questionnaire about hobbies, taste in music, and so on, when you register your copy of the game. You'll be able to tinker with your avatar's physical appearance manually, of course, but the clothes and accessories that you find in your personal wardrobe will be determined by your responses to the questionnaire. If you say that you like baseball and support the San Francisco Giants, for example, there's a good chance that you'll have the option to wear a Giants shirt or cap that will only be available to players who gave those same answers. The thinking behind this innovative system is that it'll make it easier for you to identify players with similar interests, and it will also go a long way to ensure that no two players ever look the same. In addition to the personalized clothing in your wardrobe, you'll find a number of plain white tops that you can add simple messages such as, "I wanna play darts!" or "What you lookin' at?" Other communications with players will be handled in much the same way as most current MMORPGs, giving you the option to either speak aloud or to target your comments at a specific player or group.

　　Once you've chosen a game to play, your avatar will leave the bar area, but can still be contacted by any other patrons that are on your drinking buddies list. Games currently under consideration for inclusion in Pub Quest include darts, dominoes, chess, backgammon, checkers, battleship, pool, snooker, and two-player versions of classic arcade titles such as Donkey Kong, Pac-Man, Space Invaders, Asteroids, and Defender. Additional avatar accessories and clothing will occasionally become available to you according to which games you play or as rewards for certain achievements. Scoring a perfect 180 at darts, for example, will earn you a beer hat with "180" written on it, while winning a game of 8-ball pool, without your opponent playing a single shot, will add a stylish "8-ball" jacket to your avatar's collection.

　　Should've taken a break before playing chess.

　　Like real pubs, Pub Quest venues will offer themed events to tie in with celebrations such as Halloween and Christmas. When you visit a pub hub on these occasions, you'll have an opportunity to win commemorative items for your avatar--a fetching pair of devil horns or a Santa costume perhaps. Regular interpub challenges are also planned, in which frequent players who have earned themselves a "regular" or "local" label by spending more than 75 percent of their online time at the same pub, can compete with players from other pubs that they might otherwise never have had the opportunity to meet.

　　Perhaps the most intriguing feature of Pub Quest, although its inclusion is very much under consideration right now, will be the "intoxication simulator" that kicks in after you've been logged into the game for three hours straight. In an effort to ensure that players take occasional breaks away from their PC screen and don't forget to lead their real lives, the intoxication simulator will slowly but surely render the game unplayable by re-creating the effects of being drunk until a logged-out break of at least 10 minutes is taken. Intoxication simulator effects will include double vision, blurred vision, fluctuating sound levels, reversed game controls, and the random deactivation of certain letters on your keyboard when you try to communicate with other players. The intoxication effects won't kick in when you're in the middle of a game, of course, but once you return to the bar area you'd be well advised to take a break before your next gaming session.

　　You never know who you'll meet at your local pub hub.

　　Unsurprisingly, Pub Quest is primarily being targeted at an adult audience, although child-friendly pub hubs are definitely being considered. The child-friendly hubs, if they make it into the final game, will incorporate language filters and, in place of the intoxication simulator, will likely include a "naptime" or "bedtime" reminder that gradually blurs and darkens the screen.

　　Like Paparazzi: Celebrity Shooter before it, Pub Quest is not currently in development for any platforms and has a tentative release date of never. We'll bring you more information on the game as soon as it becomes available.

　　The New Guy

　　I am the "ng." The new guy. This is my third day at GameSpot, and it's been pretty sweet so far. I have my own little chair that goes up and down whenever it feels like, a nice reflective mousepad for an optical mouse, and a somewhat largish stone head sitting on my desk. One would think this is some sort of hazing, or at best a mild mannered attempt at browbeating me. But no, it's just that I have yet to encounter the ergonomics department in this company.

　　Who is this?

　　But the head--that is the shame of the "ng." No one seems to know where it came from, or they go well out of their way to hide its origins. I can only surmise as to why the blinds have been drawn over the truth. Where is this head from? Who took it? Why did they take it? Is it even safe to touch? Who knows where it's been or what those beige lidless eyes have seen. Was it brought in solely to plague poor new people like me with endless seemingly mundane unanswered questions?

　　It's falling apart; now someone is really going to kill me. Great. So far, I've had one person actively hunt me down for taking possession of the head. A quick dose of mockery was dealt, but no lasting emotional damage to speak of. I guess the worst it could get is someone tossing it at me when I'm not looking. Woo! I'm the proud winner of a disability concussion in the first week.

　　I fear the worst has yet to come. When they learn of my more recent gaming habits, there will most assuredly be bits of concrete embedded in my skull. Even now, an internal debate rages as to whether this should become public knowledge. I'll just get it over with: I play grandma games. There, I said it. My biggest gaming joy in recent months was breaking well over 100,000 points on Yahoo! Text Twist. It was peer pressure at first. A friend showed it to me--coaxing me to play with him, promising a good time--and before I knew it, I was hooked. Those cracklike letters, slowly twirling to reveal the pipe within. They give you six letters and you make words from them. Make the biggest word and you advance to the next level. Simple, no? That game was a long time in the weaning; at its height, I was coming to street signs spinning the letters in my head to create new words, most often words that didn't quite exist. Cromulent! I win!

　　Recently, I was taken in by a game called Ballance; no it is not some digital form of sadomasochism. Some old-school gamers might recall Marble Madness for the NES. The goal is simply to steer the ball around various levels and obstacles, almost making it a computer version of the board game Labyrinth. Through the game you get to play as three different kinds of balls, using the unique properties of each to get through the various puzzles. The mainstay is the wooden ball that isn't too cumbersome or slow; for some special tasks you need the stone or the paper balls to push around stone blocks and to float above little fans in order to get to hard-to-reach spots. Then it starts to get crazy; the course become one leap to the next, and gone are the guardrails. The game is fun, but not in that I-look-up-and-see-that-10-hours-have-magically-disappeared sense. It's one of those I-have-10-minutes-to-kill kind of games.

　　Looks a bit like that mousetrap board game...

　　Yes, this decidedly does not sound as exciting as a round of BF1942, but then again, I was also sucked into Pontifex for weeks. The art of building bridges to the tune of faux physics. This game starts off all easy-like; lay down a few beams and watch the little train go by. Then as the levels--and days--go by, you find yourself dreaming of random bridge designs, imagining how the little pylons would fit together to make the most stable bridge ever. If this game isn't edutainment at its best, I don't know what is. It's like Kix; you know it's good, and good for you.

　　I think I can. I think I can.

　　In my defense, I have played the usual games and am currently playing UT2004 and Neverwinter Nights and will probably toss on Counter-Strike again just to make sure my Deagle skills haven't deteriorated too far--mostly to make sure I'm not a running target when I have to play the folks in the office at some sort of game that requires skill. But I'm not even going to try with the fighting games. That's one territory I've been schooled at for decades; and that isn't going to change anytime soon.

　　Go Small or Stay Home

　　Working in this industry there has always been a huge drive to have the latest and the greatest--we're constantly surrounded by new technology, and that often makes the technology we have at home seem a bit tired and dated. Not too long ago I found myself in a car with a group of GameSpot employees and alumni, and we were discussing whether or not to purchase a new high-definition television. You know, the usual stuff--what's good about them, what's bad about them, what's the best bang for the buck, that sort of discussion. I found myself, however, somewhat unable to comment much on the conversation, due to the fact that I have, by far, the most outdated television set in all of GameSpot. That is to say, I have conducted my entire career as a gamer on the same television, and I continue to use it today--a 13-inch GoldStar television.

　　This is the television that has been with me my entire gaming career. It's awesome. Really.

　　I really don't know how this happened--it's certainly not like I planned it that way. I only vaguely recall when my family purchased it nearly two decades ago. I think its purpose was so my sister and I could watch television or movies when our programming desires differed from that of our parents. When my father was conducting his computing on our Atari 1200xl, the NTSC monitor he bought along with it gave up within a year or so, and the GoldStar shouldered the responsibility of his computing and my gaming needs. By the time I had my NES, he was using an IBM PC clone, and the rest, as they say, is history. A Sega Genesis, Sony PlayStation, Sega Dreamcast, Nintendo GameCube, Sony PlayStation 2, and an Xbox later, and the TV is still running strong.

　　The TV set, I'll admit, is pretty ghetto. Like I said, the TV is only 13 inches wide, and its display is a bit fuzzy. Its only input is coaxial. The mono output speaker blew out a long time ago. Because coaxial adapters are hard to find for modern consoles these days, I run the output from my consoles though my VCR and take my coaxial output from that. The sound runs through the VCR and into the sound card for my computer, so I can get nice sound from my better-than-average computer speakers. The bottom line for me is that I can make it work, and that's just fine for me. Other than that, I've realized that it's pretty gratifying to think that the same television upon which I defeated the Wizard of Frobozz in Zork is the same television upon which I just recently finished The Chronicles of Riddick: Escape From Butcher Bay. The fall of Gannon, the exploration of Dezoris, and every single defeat of Dracula, all seen on the same screen. Not a bad haul.

　　Can you believe that I played both of these games on the same display? If you can't, then I can. I have to.

　　I know that I'll have to replace my television someday, but so often the same realization occurs--"Hmm... I could buy a new television, or I could just buy another five or six games"--and the grip of instant gratification takes hold. Maybe someday my trusty GoldStar will die a noble death, or maybe somebody more desperate than I am will come along and steal it, or maybe the glory of modern NTSC display technology will eventually lure me in, but until then, I'll be playing games on my tiny screen, maybe just a bit fuzzy, but with decent sound and lots of memories of good times past.

　　Everyone Has To Start Somewhere

　　For me, this is what makes for a great game.

　　Do you remember the first video game you ever played? Do you remember who got you to play, where you were, or what you thought of the experience? No, I don't remember either. I started gaming at a young age, and at the time it was difficult to tell the difference among a bunch of blocky-looking Atari 2600 games. But my first experience with video games must have been positive, or I probably wouldn't have kept playing. Now as I look back and try to recall those formative years, I can't help but wonder if the games I first played determined what kind of games I like to play today, 20 or so years later. Then I realize there are plenty of people who are just now having their first gaming experiences with games like Halo, DDR, Madden, or Riddick, and these gamers are bound to have a radically different idea of how a game should look and feel. While old-timers lament that the golden days of the industry have passed, new recruits might be thinking that games are right where they should be and that the industry is taking some positive steps toward the future as the speculation brews on a new generation of consoles.

　　For some, this is what games are all about.

　　Although I don't remember my first gaming experiences, I can recall quite clearly some of my personal video game milestones. Games like Super Mario Bros., Contra, Baseball Stars, Shining Force, Final Fantasy VI, Chrono Trigger, Mario 64, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, GTA 3, Metroid Prime, and so on, guided me along and marked the best times in my gaming career. To me, these titles define what a great gaming experience is like. As evidenced by my admittedly lopsided collection, I have been looking for a little bit of those games in every new one I buy. I will admit, this predilection for certain types of games--or even certain developers--limits the breadth of my gaming experience, but I simply have no interest in stealth games like Splinter Cell or hack-and-slash games like Onimusha. When I see the rabid fan base that such games have developed, I have to conclude that my lack of interest is entirely a matter of taste, because to be so popular these games must be pretty good and interesting to some people. I doubt that so many people would buy them simply to admire the high-production values and nice graphics. Folks weaned on Metal Gear Solid or Resident Evil are probably in heaven with the crop of games so far this year, while old schoolers still pine for a new Mario game that doesn't have "advance," "tennis," or "golf" in the title.

　　This is a great game for everyone in the world (age 13 or older).

　　For me, Shining Force became Final Fantasy Tactics, which later became Disgaea. Or to make it as linear as possible, Final Fantasy VI became VII, which later became X. This is why reissues of old games are so popular. It's a simple way to recapture the magic of the classics. The only problem is that the excitement of venturing into new territory is replaced with amusement at the novelty of revisiting familiar places, which is often short lived. Perhaps today's gamers will feel the same when they play the Halo compilation 10 years from now.

　　As long as video games exist, they will pay homage to the classics in one way or another. At the same time, they will continue to evolve as dictated by the tastes of consumers and the ingenuity of developers. But as new people become gamers every day, the very idea of what a game should be will continue to change as well. The kid that started playing Spider-Man 2 yesterday might grow up to be a programmer, artist, or a director for games that will no doubt borrow heavily from the titles of today. Ten or 20 years from now games will be far more influenced by the Grand Theft Auto series than by Mario or Zelda--and that's not necessarily a bad thing. After all, even the old-school gamers can only take so many compilations. I just can't wait to meet the gamer who starts off on a game like Odama, or Katamari Damacy.

　　Frustratingly Fun?

　　It's fairly well established that video games are, first and foremost, a means of entertainment, not unlike movies or television. Sure, some developers might slip a little expression or art into the mix, sometimes elevating their games to a higher level. Why, then, do many games artificially lengthen the experience simply by frustrating us, the players, until our controllers have taken so many hits they fear extinction? It's something I've borne witness to time and again, where unfair challenges seem to exist purely for the sake of raising their value scores. This isn't to say a challenge is a bad thing, but it's downright infuriating when you get the feeling that the game is cheating on its own rules just to beat you.

　　Thank you, Ninja Gaiden, for keeping me honest.

　　When Ninja Gaiden was released in March, it was praised for its beautiful graphics, great environments, and accessible gameplay. At the same time, gamers were abuzz with the challenge this game provided. The reason Ninja Gaiden succeeded so flawlessly, despite the trouble many players experienced, was that Ninja Gaiden was, above all else, fair. In Ninja Gaiden, if you are a good player, you will win. If you're a lesser player, you'll take more damage and maybe see the Game Over screen a few more times. In many other action games, and even games crossing into other genres, failing can become a very frustrating experience, and it often provides no insight into how or why you didn't succeed in your objective. Your avatar was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or an enemy broke through your blocking move and pummeled you, sword (or gun) and all, into the ground. Ninja Gaiden utterly surprised me though, because after I died, I was aware of exactly what I had done wrong, or not done at all. Ninja Gaiden gives you all the tools to become a good player, and I consistently found myself learning while playing the game. Oftentimes while going against difficult bosses, I would find myself doing better every time I played them, learning their tactics while mastering my own. It's this unique feeling that makes games challenging but without frustrating me to the point of turning the console off.

　　Have you ever messed up playing this game and saved, completely ruining any progress you've made? Me too.

　　At the same time I was playing through Ninja Gaiden, I was also playing Devil May Cry. Albeit a little late, due to my recent purchase of a PlayStation 2, playing these two games at similar times provided me with some insight. Both games tell a story through a flashy, exciting character and allow you to perform insane maneuvers to defeat your enemies. Yet I found myself frustrated much more often while playing Devil May Cry. Ironically, Devil May Cry is most likely an easier game, but somehow that feeling of learning and increasing my skills was absent and left me screaming every time my health bar dwindled down to nothing.

　　What makes this so fun?

　　Some racing games, such as the extremely accessible SSX series, use "rubber-band AI" to even the stakes. When an opponent falls too far behind, the AI cheats the statistics to give your opponents just the speed they need to draw closer to even. Equally, when you fall behind, it slows your opponents down and gives you an opportunity to capitalize on. Many criticize this system for taking the realism out of such games and making them unfair if implemented into a multiplayer situation. On the other hand, these AI systems could be the perfect solution to making games challenging and exciting without frustrating players. It retains the possibility of success while still keeping you on your toes.

　　The truth is there are many options to keeping games challenging and fun without causing you to want to damage your controller. The bigger question is, can gamers blame the developer if they find their game frustrating, or is it merely the player's fault for not being up to speed on the skills required? Should this frustration be a trait negatively shaded over good and bad games alike? I think it's time to take a closer look at the emotion a game evokes.