Skip to main content

Christmas Gaming: Platypus Nostalgia

Long wintry afternoons and evenings aren't just for books.  If you grew up in the 80s (or more recently), it's also a time for gaming.  If you're old school, this can mean getting out the pen and paper.  If you're teh uber, then it means more time on WoW.  I, striving for To Meson in all things, tend to prefer the old snes.  Once old Bessie is out of the mothballs, that begs the question of what game to play.

Picking a game at Christmas is a lot like picking a book: the question of atmosphere is paramount.  As with Christmas reading, then, I like a game that has a more mellow pace and tone.  The bright and tinny world of Super Mario Brothers is out then.  Also out are the cartoonish creatures of Secret of Mana.  The Legend of Zelda series is welcome any time of the year, but I think I like it best in Summer or fall.  Metroid comes nearer the mark.  What's left?  This year, I think the answer to that question is Final Fantasy III (Japan VI).  With its quiet, melancholy mood and often wintry atmosphere, it's the perfect game for a cold night.

Agree?  Disagree?  Question the question?  It is a bit of a silly question after all.  Should we really choose video games the way we choose wine to complement a meal?  Maybe.  There seems to be value in living life intentionally.  I grew up in a land of sharp and distinct seasons, and seasonal rhythms have always been important to me.  They provide a sense of order and balance in what is so often a disordered and unbalanced world.  By setting times and seasons for our own activities, we increase the order in our world; logos reclaiming chaos.  Still not convinced?  That's ok.  Now how about you; what are your holiday traditions?  

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Platypus Reads Part XXVII

Thoughts after reading the "Iliad" to prepare a Greece unit for my students: -Hector is a jerk until he's dead. He even advocates the exposure of Achaean corpses and then has the cheek to turn around and ask Achilles to spare his. He rudely ignores Polydamas' prophecies and fights outside the gate to save his pride knowing full well what it will cost his family and city. After he's dead, he becomes a martyr for the cause. -Agamemnon has several moments of true leadership to balance out his pettiness. In this way, he's a haunting foil to Achilles: the two men are more alike than they want to acknowledge. -We see that Achilles is the better man at the funeral games of Patroclos. His lordliness, tact, and generosity there give us a window into Achilles before his fight with Agamemnon and the death of Patroclos consumed him. -Nestor is a boring, rambling, old man who's better days are far behind him, and yet every Achaean treats him with the upmo...
15 comments
Read more

California's Gods: Strange Platypus(es)

We've noticed lately a strange Californian dialectical twist: there, freeways take the definite article.  In other parts of the country one speaks of I 91 or 45 North.  In California, there's The 5, The 405, The 10.  Each of these freeways has its own quirks, a personality of sorts.  They aren't just stretches of pavement but presences, creatures that necessitate the definite article by their very individuality and uniqueness.  They are the angry gods to be worked, placated, feared, for without them life in California as we know it would cease.  Perhaps that's fitting for a land whose cities are named for saints and angels.  Mary may preside over the new pueblo of our lady of the angels, but the freeways slither like gigantic serpents through the waste places, malevolent spirits not yet trampled under foot.
9 comments
Read more

Seeing Beowulf Through Tolkien: The Platypus Reads Part CXCIX

After spending a few weeks wrestling with Tolkien's interpretation of Beowulf , I found myself sitting down and reading Seamus Heaney's translation of the text during a spare moment.  I came to the place where Beowulf presents Hrothgar with the hilt of the ancient sword that slew Grendel's mother.  Hrothgar looks down at the hilt with its ancient runes and carvings depicting the war between the giants and God and meditates on the fortunes of men.  In a flash of insight, I thought: this is the whole poem! Let me explain.  Tolkien believed that the genuine contribution of the Northern peoples to European culture was the theory of courage.  The Northern heroes, at their best, were men who fought for order against chaos -a battle they knew they were doomed to lose.  If they were true heroes, their souls would join the gods and aid them in the final battle against darkness and its monsters and again go down fighting, spitting in the face of the meaninglessness...
3 comments
Read more