Putting the Game Before the Book, Part 2: Revenge of Bone

So hey, did ya hear? Blogs of the Round Table are allowing another post for this months theme! Yeah. Sweet, I know. This allows significantly more pontification on my part, with an air of legitimacy!

But wait! This fever/nausea! Will it spell doom for our intrepid blogging hero, in his quest to make the most awesome blog posts of all time? Yes.

Yes it will.

No seriously, you don't wanna be anywhere near this blog bro/bro-ette. I got like a mad case of sore throat/fever/nausea. It might be contagious.

But before you go, I was gonna probably talk about Bone. You know. BONE! Seriously, have you not read it? It's fucking sweet. Like ridiculously sweet. It's goddamn intimidating is what it is. While you got all these postmodern/dada/whatever-they-want-to-call-themselves-I-don't-give-a-fuck-anymore shitheads, and other fucks running around putting toilets in museums, or Brillo pads, or whatever the fuck they're doing now, I don't give a rat's ass, the thing is that you got THEM over THERE, with their MUSEUMS and CURATORS, and DEGREES and shit, from FANCY COLLEGES with their fucking TWEED JACKETED-PROFESSORS* and whatever other goddamn stereotypes you wanna perpetuate, I don't care, the point is that THEY are over THERE. You can't tell, because you can't see me, put I'm pointing off in some random fucking direction, it doesn't really matter, the point I'm trying to get across is that there are so far removed from REAL SHIT that they think they matter.

No wait. I think that's my point. Yeah. Yeah it is.

You got all these fucking shitty ass artists going nowhere and calling it POST-MODERISM** and whatnot, or SNARK, or whatever, I really don't care, the point is that they're stupid, and noone loves them. Oh yeah, people will buy their shit at auctions and whatnot, and they'll put that crap up in their fancy houses and sip FINE WINES and be all CULTURED and shit, but those fucks don't love the artist. Shit, they don't even love the art! They just love the STATUS, the DICKHAT, if you will, of having POST-MODERN or CONTEMPARY art in their emtpy lives, so that they can pretend that they have some kind of soul to thier existence. After all, they're involved in CULTURE.

Enter: Bone.

Bone is so goddamn intimidating, in much the same way that Shadow of the Colossus is intimidating. Both of those works are just so...


Think about that. In this fucking ''POSTMODERN'' age with the fancy ''INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY'' when was the last time you actually some a real thing that was...



No really. I'm not saying that our lives our over saturated with advertising, even though they are***, I'm just saying that there's not alot of calm in our lives. Now sure, some people blame the Internet, or TV, or whatever, but I propose something more simple; this is the way it's always been, only know someone actually bothered to write it down.

So anyway, you got our non-calm***** culture, our way of life if you will, and then you SotC, and Bone.

You see, one of the symptoms of this whole culture shit, is that so much of our art is also non-calm. Now some can pull this shit off. Like Bangai-O Spirits. Bangai-O Spirits can pull off not being calm. It's a fucking game ALL ABOUT blowing shit up. That's not a terribly calm activity******. But some shit, some shit just can't. It gets all neurotic and shit, and starts worrying and stressing about difficulty level, and about 'flow' and about 'are there enough power-ups?' and 'do we have an ice level?' and just stupid shit that gets them off track.

But Bone? Nah man. Bone ain't like that. Bone knows where it came from. Bone knows where it's going. Oh it's tense at times. At times the reader feels panic about what's going to happen next. But the piece as a whole doesn't stretch itself like most videogames, save SotC, do. It doesn't try so hard, and it doesn't make you feel almost bad for not liking it. Bone just does it.

Loving videogames sometimes feels like loving your kids kindergarden scribbles. Sure, Timmy couldn't color in the lines. So the kid likes blue. Big deal. I mean, come on, we should encourage creativity right?

And so you do. You just encourage little Timmy to just keep on bringing you those scribbles and whatnot, knowing that one day he'll grow out of it, and start bringing home better scribbles, till he moves on to stuff he really cares about, or finds that scribbling is what he loves, and just becomes and animator, or whatever.

But games, games feel like they're just not trying anymore. I mean Timmy, Timmy tries ya know? He's your kid, he wants to make you proud. But videogames, man, they do really even give a fuck about us anymore? I mean really. Another World War II shooter? Kingdom Hearts 2? For real? Are the serious? I mean, have these fucking developers played SotC? Have these shit-humping publishers even seen...like...shit, even fucking Dead Rising. Seriously, have these shit-for-hearts motherfuckers even once seen sum GOOD GAME DESIGN? Ever?

...oh shit, I was supposed to make game. Crap.

Okay so, Bone the Game...you know what? FUCK IT. To me, Bone isn't about the story*******, or the art********, or the characters*********, or any of that shit. It's about the aura a work of art can project. That self-assuredness without being a dick, that calm without being aloof, that relaxation while being tense. That's Bone. And I don't want to make ONE game that exhibits those traits. I want a million fucking games with those traits. I want to sing about those kinds of games from the rooftops, I want to run naked through the streets shrieking about those kinds of games, I want to cry myself to sleep playing those kinds of games, I want to SHOVE those kinds of GAMES under the NOSES of EVERY SINGLE SON OF A BITCH WHO DOESN'T UNDERSTAND VIDEOGAMES AND TELL THEM THAT THIS IS WHAT THEY ARE ABOUT.

Also, 'Inside the Actors Studio' has Conan O'Brien on, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna miss that.


*Note to self: Get tweed jacket. And monocle. And pipe.
*** They don't have to be, just do what I do and watch PBS. Seriously, Bill Moyers has the fucking biggest balls in journalism this side of Jon Stewart. And Kieth Olbermann. And Rachel Maddow****
****On an unrelated note, I am GAY FOR RACHEL MADDOW. Your regularly scheduled footnotes section will now return.
*****NOT anti-calm, mind you!
******Note to self: Make game where blowing shit up is calming.
*******Which is incredible.
********See: *******
*********See: ********


There already is a Bone videogame...crap. But wait! It's and adventure game! So I probably WOULD hate it, since the whole genre was merely a placeholder to begin with! So there.


  1. Post-Modern refers to post-"Modernistic" not exactly the adjective modern. But yeah, there has been some confusion with that term.

    But yeah, well I haven't read that comic so I can't comment because you haven't described any game.

    But your rant does give a nice Manifesto. You could very well be one of those post-modern schmocks yourself. ;-)

  2. 0.0!

    No! I have become everything I hate! There is only one solution! I must write my memoirs!