Leave Luck to Heaven's Future

Read this.

Why I felt like posting this on Twitter, I dunno. Call it me reaching out to people rather than babbling within a bubble.

Regardless, it bears repeating this isn't Leave Luck to Heaven's end. However, it's become clear I need to prioritize what's best for me and my career, and the current developments in the works for Hey Poor Player will decide that. In the meantime, if you exist, dear reader, please bear some patience.

I can, however, promise a new review by this weekend. 

Happy New Year!

For better or for worse, the turbulence of 2017 has paved the way for a very uncertain 2018. Such is the life of a left-wing American, but I suppose my blog isn't suitable for airing such grievances (let's just leave it at climate change and social media's reluctance to tackle discrimination/harassment -- hi, Twitter -- being objectively terrible things).

Anywho, with the year opening with two days off I wanted to wrap up another review, but a December cold decide to infect me again, so now that's uncertain. Regardless, I guess now would be a good time to say pretty much all those minor review updates I mentioned in November have been completed (check out my fear of Sonic the Hedgehog's drowning music!). You'll also notice most of my 2010-2013 reviews feature a disclaimer noting they're obsolete, although having recently filed a review schedule, I wouldn't expectment replacements for all of 'em until maybe next year.

Oh, and expect three Hey Poor Player reviews this month, too: a manga volume and two games. The former may be my first review copy, and one of the two games is an import! Can I successfully juggle all that with the blog? We'll have to find out.

Regarding This Month's Drought and My Social Media Presence

Hey, all. Things have been quite slow this October, and when also factoring in some recent Twitter comments of mine about leaving the platform, I figure I should clue y'all in on what's going on.

First and foremost, I desperately wish this drought could be explained by it being a really busy work month (although it certainly has been that), but I'm afraid that's not the case. Earlier this month, my cousin's wife was diagnosed with an especially rare form of the paraganglioma, a cancer that's already rare in itself. While we've since approached this situation with optimism -- this isn't the first time a close family member had a brush with cancer -- as I'm extremely close with the family in question, it's naturally still on my mind 24/7, and we won't know the cancer's severity until the operation on Halloween. As two (very) young children are involved, needless to say it's a scary time.

Not to mention...honestly, it's already been an overloaded month as it is. Never mind all the hours of work, I took an insane amount of workload for Hey Poor Player earlier this month (three feature articles in three straight days), and I've been working beyond my limits to raise awareness for the site and match my monthly post quota. Furthermore, my next review...well, I won't spoil it for those waiting, but it's been a long time coming and given the massive size involved, it's been a huge stress factor as well.

In short, things may stay Hey Poor Player-only for a little while until I get my scheduling/life in order. It's a huge bummer personally since I finally set a proper set-up in penning my reviews and whatnot, but the extra workload has prevented me from carrying it out. Regardless, I hope you understand.

There's also the issue of Twitter; for the uninitiated, I have expressed a desire to drop the platform entirely. Over the past year, I have felt immense guilt associating myself with a site that, thanks to piss-poor moderation, has allowed the likes of racists, Neo-Nazis, misogynists and harassers on their platform, and I could no longer in good conscience tolerate their presence. It's immensely useful tool for sharing my work, yes, but would I be any better than those who value ad revenue over their users' safety?

However, a certain...incident threw a monkey wrench in my plans. NeoGAF, a forum I frequented for four years, underwent chaotic anarchy following sexual assault allegations against the owner, and I, like many others, did not wish any more association with the site. The exodus was immensely disheartening for everyone involved, and Twitter was the only reliable tool we had to stay in touch with old friends. In many ways, there was truly nothing like NeoGAF, it being one of the final gaming bastions of progressive ideology and a zero-tolerance policy towards any any of the alt-right rhetoric that's plagued our medium for the past several years.

Thankfully, since then we've made a smooth transition towards spiritual successor ResetEra, and while I personally couldn't be happier with how that's turned out, I'm still a little shaken by what happened. NeoGAF was set to be my one and only social internet connection once I left Twitter, and with that suddenly ripped from the equation, I'd be left with nothing else. Again, ResetEra's shaping up to be a worthy replacement, but that whole incident forced me to reconsider all my internet-related plan, and so that's why I'll be giving Twitter one last shot to redeem itself while being more proactive in calling out the filth plaguing the platform. This may, however, change depending on any further scandals with the service, so please bear that in mind.

Anyway, that's about it. I'll probably be spending the next week sorting this all out. Reset assured, Leave Luck to Heaven has some big plans in the future.

 In the meantime, it's time for me to Do the Odyssey. See ya soon!

Spring Cleaning + Kirby Concert!

Hey all, sorry for the two-week absence; been juggling through several reviews/Hey Poor Player stuff as I've been perfecting the balance between my work/writing/reading/gaming schedules or what not. I'd like to think I've finally about to hit a sweet spot, but we'll see in the coming months.

In any case, I've finally been wrapping up the post tags for much of my earlier stuff. All that's left is for posts from the end of 2014 to mid-2015, and we should be good to go for that. I've also taken the liberty of updating my reviews with "score" tags, so you don't have to click all the way to the archives to discover my verdict.

Unfortunately, a lot of music videos and the like have been taken down over the past few years, I'm not sure when I'll have time to fix all that, but I am aware of the issue. Until then, please be patient.

(Funny story: in the process, one of my earlier E3 posts somehow got pushed up to being published today! Got fixed, but no idea how that happened!)

...so, how about that Kirby concert, eh? Truth be told, while most of the translation work was done by my friend at Source Gaming, I took the liberty of translating the above setlist as well as a couple other details. My Japanese skills are still growing, and I can't wait for them to become a reliable asset for Hey Poor Player!

And yes, I'm still biting at the bit for confirmation of a CD/DVD release! As mentioned in the article, the Fire Emblem and Zelda 20th anniversary shows got their own respective soundtracks, so I'm thinking it's likely Kirby will get its own!

In the meantime, a Japanese show-goer took the liberty of uploading the show setlist as according to the original versions of the songs. (To reiterate, these aren't the actual orchestrations) If you're like me and just can't wait until a CD release, I highly recommend checking it out.

Gotta say, that's an incredibly solid song list, although I'm saddened Rainbow Resort and Kirby's Epic Yarn didn't make the cut...

Anyway, I've been hard at work getting Leave Luck to Heaven active again by next week, so get ready for some serious review/Biweekly Music Wednesday time soon!

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 43 ~Puzzling Truth~ (Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance)

Origin: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance

Plays In: Map Recaps/Cutscenes
Status: Original
Composed By: Atsushi Yoshida

Three weeks ago, the world as I knew it changed forever. This is hardly anything new, but none of my personal tragedies or cynical coming-of-age developments were never on a global scale as what transpired on Election Day. On that date, every moral principle and ideological construct as I knew it had been proven to be a lie: that racism was a thing of the past. That women were to be treated with respect. That even though I didn't understand gay and transgender people, they were still human beings like me. I learned the hard way of how lies could hurt. That the world will suffer irreparable climate change until we stand up and do something. That whoever held the presidential office, whether one liked him or not, was a respected individual with a wealth of experience and wisdom.

That was all demolished that day. Racism is alive and well in America. Neo-Nazism, xenophobia, and media/government conspiracy theories will grow to be normalized, as will the KKK. Women will continue to be disenfranchised, and gay/trans rights may very well suffer. We rewarded a pathological liar with the most powerful position in the world. We will continue sticking our heads into the sand and pretend climate change is not an active threat, all the while shrugging our shoulders at the latest gun massacre and going "well, they were gonna die anyway; nothing we can do. But hey, thoughts and prayers!"

In short, we are not just well underway to roll progress back to a bigoted America, but as evidenced by the manchild demagogue that is Donald Trump, are set to becoming the laughingstock of the world.

In hindsight, I am perhaps not so surprised. The offbeat events of 2016 all but paved the way, be it the likes of reddit and Twitter doing nothing to stop the onslaught hate and harassment by those who aligned themselves under Mr. Trump's bigotry, or the media hyper-focusing on deleted emails that never once caused harm to a single human being. We clutched to our electorate polls in times of distress, no matter how much red dotted central America. But it was no use, for we underestimated the likes of voter apathy and the bigotry that had seeped into rural America.

Even more than that, though...was it really all a lie? Reading the horrors of segregated America back in high school, I couldn't help but marvel at how I wouldn't have to worry about this a mere forty years later. And yet, a tiny part of me wondered...could such violent friction between races really have healed in such short time? When the famous Trayvon Martin case reared its head alongside the countless similar tragedies since then, it was then I knew my country was heading down a dark path.

Have we made progress as a human society since then? Undoubtedly, but to think we have actually evolved as more moral human beings...how foolish of us. How foolish of me. We are, still forty years after the Civil Rights movement, a century and a half since the Emancipation Proclamation, the very same selfish human beings who are eagerly willing to step over others' ideologies and rights just to further our own selfish interests.

And what a bigger fool I was to think this once had nothing to do with me. Politics, I thought, were far too complicated for an autistic individual: what was I to make of caucuses? Filibusters? Legislation? Third-party movements? Parliament? I struggled daily with putting away laundry and making eye contact, so why bother with such vitriol when none of it made an ounce of sense? My college analysis of the Tea Party Movement, whereupon I was told it was a Conservative and Liberal movement, only proved it to me: I was above such petty quarrels.

But now I see I was wrong. Conforming to such a selfish ideology is something that would only benefit myself, and serves not a single member of humanity. Moreover, it was my own inaction that helped lead to where we were today; granted, my father never would've allowed me to not vote, but my apathy may very well have been part of what we witnessed earlier this November. It was only when Donald Trump's momentum grew to horrific levels this past year that I stood up and said, "I have to do something."

I believe, and always have, that America has never been "great." Forget the implications of how "Make America Great Again" means reverting to a time of open bigotry and whatnot; from our very beginnings, we have been hypocrites the moment "all men are created equal" was penned into the Declaration of Independence while we still had black slaves. From the Emancipation on, from the Civil Rights Movement on, from every LGBT movement on, we as a country are still dragged kicking and screaming into the acceptance of those who are different from us.

I do not love America, but I do love what America stands for. The dream of a place where anyone of any nationality can live free. The ideals of "The American Dream" and "The Land of Opportunity". Where virtue, open expression and equality are prized above all else. Where I can look at a broken individual in the eye regardless of their skin color and say, "you are welcome here. You are loved."

And now, the country I live in is in its darkest hour. Hundreds of hate crimes are committed in the name of our presidential-elect, who is too busy attacking the 1st Amendment on his Twitter to actively dismiss such atrocities. There are not one, not two, not three, not four, not five, not six, but SEVEN anti-LGBT members of Trump's cabinet, not the least of which is Mike "Gay people should be tortured and I'm going to roll back Obama's pro-gay policies" Pence (not to mention the presence of Steve Bannon's general fuckery). Climate change denial will be the main policy of the administration, despite not only the overwhelming evidence involved and having everything to lose should you be wrong, but is utterly baffling and self-destructive in the face of absolutely zero repercussions not to care for our planet. (But hey, gotta get rid of that "politically correct" climate change, otherwise known as quite possibly the dumbest shit to ever leave someone's mouth).

All this time, I thought a Trump loss would not only prove the exploitation of racism/biogtry and the presence of a lying demagogue  with no political experience would have no place in a modern White House, but it would serve as a wake-up call to America. But would it really have put a stop to it all? That energized buzz of bigotry wouldn't be going anywhere, and I can hardly imagine the extreme right-wing Congress of today not exploiting that base. If this dumpster fire is what America truly needs to transform, so be it.

But I will not stand for a country built on hate and ignorance. I will not stand for a country where we have to continually choke back our tears and do nothing as gun massacres slaughter our loved ones, our children. I will not stand for a country geared towards self-destruction as the greatest crisis mankind will ever face threatens to erase our existence. I will fight for a country built on acceptance. A country where political parties who serve their homeland not on personal interests but for the interest of the people. A country where the dreams America has fought to earn for over the past two hundred years can finally, finally come true.

I will never build my life on hate. I will fight for a better tomorrow. I hope you will join me.

Final Thoughts: This is the first time I've ever gone political on Leave Luck to Heaven, so I felt Fire Emblem would serve as a proper musical accompaniment. Do you think it worked? It'll definitely be a rare occasion, so savor it while you can.

A Lesson in Patience

Wh..what is that?

It couldn't possibly be..!

It is! My very own Famicom. Wow.

Easily my most expensive purchase at Otakon (about $99, plus tax), obtaining the Japanese NES has been a goal of mine for a while. As an aspiring Nintendo archivist, it's a dream of mine to obtain every piece of Nintendo hardware and software out there, and what better place to start than the original home console that started it all? Having studied Japanese over the past year, I was also eager to put my studies to the test.

Alas, but I've already hit a snag. While the Otakon vendor was kind enough to include the required power adapter/AV cable, I'd forgotten the Famicom requires certain channel frequencies to display the game on American televisions...all of which aren't available on the only CRT in the house! Agh!

To make matters worse...well, take a look below.

What? Is that a crack?!? And is the red casing loose? Was I sold a faulty Famicom?!? Bring me the one responsible, now!

...actually, I'm pretty sure it was an accident on my part. While carrying it around in a bag at the convention, the console's weight was too much and it ripped through, slamming onto the floor with a loud CLACK! Naturally, I was scared, but a quick inspection showed nothing wrong...so I shoved it in my backpack.

"Well, why didn't you put it in your backpack in the first place," you may ask. Well, a while back I learned that filling backpacks with game cases isn't a swell idea, as they get punctured with holes and the like, so I guess that fear spread to any and all valuable game merch. Anyway, it wasn't until I got home that I noticed the crack, and the casing was actually a lot looser; in fact, you actually see the wires inside. Thankfully, I shifted it around the above plug's casing insert, and it's currently as you see it now.

The question is...does it work? In my inspection and testing, I've noticed the Famicom has two flaws in comparison to the NES, bhe first one being there is no LED light to signal whether it's off or on. I was frequently shifting through channels to see whether or not it'd come on, but due to the lack of an LED, I had no idea whether or not it was actually, well, on.

The other flaw? Well, both of the console's controllers are hooked to the console, meaning you can't replace them. When considering my bad luck, take a closer look at my two controllers and guess which one is Player One.

Why, the scratched-up one with the rough surface, of course! Boy, am I screwed.

Scuffs, scratches and cracks are the shame of any collector, and it seems I'm inexorably drawn to such blemishes. My game cases keep getting punctures, my Nendoroid stands break with little to no hope of replacement, my cats like knocking down my One Piece statues...as I'm clumsy by nature, it weighs heavily on me, and I beat myself up for it constantly.

In regards to the actual games, it's an even tougher subject. It's not like they're making anymore Famicoms, y'know? Forget the possibility of wasted money: a broken Famicom would mean one less functioning legend in the world that someone else could've enjoyed...and yet, don't all physical products break down eventually? Just ask my SNES and N64 cartrdiges: in a phenomenon that, to my surprise, has yet to be cataloged over the internet, they're riddled with graphical glitches from meshed-together 3D polygons to a morphing white square in the corner of Kirby Super Star. If it sounds confusing, I'm honestly just as much at a loss as you are. Regardless, it's a very cynical outlook, especially when considering Nintendo's Virtual Console filters.

It extends outside my hobbies, too. I frequently miss cues to do chores around the house,, I speak too fast when I don't mean to...it's something I can't escape. Just another trait of being an Aspie, I suppose.

I do wonder if it's a sign not to rush into things too fast? Maybe my Japanese just isn't ready yet, and I lack a steady job, so I need to discipline myself and save money. Furthermore, my computer is quite outdated, and I'm starting to lack space for display and archive purposes: as I'm branching out to study books for future writing endeavors, I lack a proper bookcase to store them all in, as well as a table and containers for future statues, Nendoroids. and the like. Should I hold off on that all until I move out into my dream home?

Probably, but I wonder how long I'll be able to hold out. The Otakon vendor I purchased the Famicom from happens to be based in New York City, and I just so happen to be heading down down there this November for my birthday, so maybe they can help me with my Famicom (and provide some more info on hooking it up).

Regardless, what's most important is that I further work on pushing myself forward with my writing and Leave Luck to Heaven's future. If it takes broken products and a lesson in patience to express that, so be it.

Oh, and on a semi-related note: the Detective Conan figure I also purchased got a weird scuff on his hat, too.

why does this keep happening to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

How to beat The True Arena in Kirby: Planet Robobot (GameSkinny)

Article Here

My first ever guide! Writing this was just as tough as completing the actual mode; I actually had it nearly finished over a week ago, but a browser blunder ended up deleting the whole thing! ARGH! It happened very much the same way as the last boss's final phase, too.

Planet Robobot is definitely one of the tougher Kirby games out there, so I hope this guide will hope those struggling with the mode. Remember: use Stone!

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 36 ~Rainy Day~ (Animal Crossing)

Origin: Animal Crossing
Plays in: All day during a rainstorm

Status: Original Composition

Composer(s): Kazumi Totaka, Shinobu Tanaka, Kenta Nagata, Toru Minegishi

When it rains, it pours. Over the past month, the circumstances regarding my job have only gotten from bad to worse, and it's been affecting me deeply. I won't get into the gritty details, but it's been a maelstrom of miscommunication, finger-pointing and radio silence that's wearing me down. Not good, not good. 

I try my hardest to be a resilient human being. I've had a countless amount of challenges and hardships to overcome in my lifetime, yet every struggle ends the same: I slowly rise back up to face whatever comes next. At the end of the day, I have my dreams to live for, and there's people who love me that count on my existence. So far, it seems this case will be no different, as there's plenty of opportunities to look forward to. For instance, I'll be starting my JTP with GameSkinny next week, so I probably won't be completely jobless in the near feature. And I've excelled in my self-studying of Japanese (I was able to translate some of the 1st One Piece volume today!), so there's that.

And yet, this situation is still immensely disappointing to me. That I was able to make a difference in a district I spent over decade loving and hating as a foolish adolescent was both cathartic and monumental to me, and now that may not be the case soon. Not that neither side is completely faultless in the ordeal, mind, but I'd rather be honest over the ordeal rather than hearing, well, nothing.

At the heart of the matter is something I've slowly grown to fear over the past couple years: social skills, cues and conveniences I cannot glean due to having Asperger's. I still cannot comb my hair properly. My rate of speech is still too fast, and I cannot properly gauge the volume and tone of my voice. I unconsciously pace around. I hate using it as an excuse--at the end of the day, we're all human beings no matter what we do--and yet it's who I am. What's an Aspie to do?

It's not that I hate myself for having the syndrome; in fact, I'm proud I came this far as a member of the spectrum. But it's that fear that no matter where or what I'm doing, it always ends up being socially unacceptable or wrong. This is despite the fact I'm on the high-functioning end of the spectrum: I still know the difference between right and wrong, and what's sensitive and insensitive. But there's always going to be a blind spot in areas I continue to fail in, and neurotypicals will, without fail, pick up on that.

This isn't the struggle I imagined myself back in 5th Grade, where math problems were the bane of my existence and I was struggling with the reality that I was falling for my best friend. I've always known I was different and people were going to have difficulty accepting who I am, most of all myself. Funny how I always paint my childhood with rosy innocence, and yet I wonder if my hardships back then were just as poignant.

Does my choice of an Animal Crossing theme--one that happens to be one of my favorite rain themes in gaming history--strike as fitting? It's not particularly gloomy, given that it's from Animal Crossing and all, yet it's something I always turn to whenever I'm pondering myself. I usually walk away content, yet today is different. Am I searching for a piece of childhood that's calling out to me, refusing to be buried in the mists of time? Am I just looking for catharsis? I don't know, and yet I'm just staring at the storm.

Just what am I missing? What am I missing?  

Final Thoughts: By the way, this is the first time I've done a second music column on a single game, hasn't it?

Biweekly Music Wednesday! No. 35 ~Midna's Theme~ (The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess)

Origin: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Plays in: Various cutscenes

Status: Original Composition

Composer: Toru Minegishi

They say that whenever Nintendo holds a stockholder's meeting or the like, you should always expect the worst and hope for the best. Predictably, the results have lately been falling upon the former, and today's bombs are no exception. The nebulous NX console won't be arriving this year as most expected, but instead March 2017 so as to ensure a strong launch line-up. The next Zelda title has once again been delayed, as it'll launch alongside the NX next March. What this means is that Nintendo will once again have to ride its current money-making waves from amiibo figures and their mobile ventures, as the Wii U's paltry lineup will hardly sustain another Christmas season.

I've largely come down from the disappointment this morning, but there's no denying things are looking bleaker than ever for Nintendo. 2015 was already one of their roughest years despite their high-quality output, and the ways thing are going, 2016 looks to be even worse. We still have no idea what exactly the NX is, and outside of Pokemon Sun and Moon, who knows what else they'll have scheduled for this fall.

Worldly Weekend: Dragon Ball Z: Budokai (PS2)

And now, to geek out even more.

While Pokémon was what cultivated my interest in anime and manga, Dragon Ball was what captivated that interest and promptly skyrocketed it into a permanent hobby. Akira Toriyama's tales of monkey-tailed boys, alien combat and musclemen protruding golden hair three times their size captured my heart like every other young male living in early 2000's America, and I celebrated my fandom in every way possible. My friends and I constantly invented new adventures for our DBZ action figures. I dressed up as Vegeta for Halloween (I think the wig my mom made is still lying around somewhere!). I memorized the power levels of every character as I frequented the web for plot summaries and pictures. I downloaded translated ROMs of the Japan-exclusive games. I even discovered that, gasp, the show was being censored for American television!

That all began fifteen years ago, and after all these years, my Dragon Ball dorkiness is still alive...if not a tad more latent. Episodes from the fabled Dragon Box sets frequently serve as nostalgic background noise within my basement. I'm quite behind on the new animated adventures, having only seen the first two episodes of Dragon Ball Super and the Battle of Gods movie (for the record, I loved both). Every now and then, I take one of my old manga volumes and take a whiff of that familiar smell; once upon a time, I was convinced Japanese children reveled in that holy scent twenty years before I did.

While still regarded as an action masterpiece, it's easier to discern the flaws of something I once deemed as perfect. The childhood and adulthood periods of protagonist Goku's life--marketed outside of the original Japanese manga as Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z, respectively--are too thematically dissonant (if anything, I prefer the whimsy of Dragon Ball). Non-Saiyan characters are frequently shoved into the sidelines, no matter how much time had been invested into them prior. Yet no matter how much I could go on, none of it matters whether I'm reading or watching it. I could say it's just my childhood speaking, yet every story beat, every character moment have become so ingrained into shonen manga that it's little wonder it remains the cornerstone of Weekly Shonen Jump (to provide an American equivalent, I suspect many feel the same about the original Star Wars trilogy and how it impacted cinema). Needless to say, it's a series I still deeply respect and adore.

With all that said, Dragon Ball Z: Budokai requires some context. See, Japan had been living it up with Dragon Ball video games since the 80's, yet we Americans never got in on that action (not including the infamous Dragon Ball GT: Final Bout). It wasn't until 2002 when animation company Toei, American anime licenser/localizer FUNimation and game publisher Infogrames finally got off their sorry keesters and began distributing DB games across the West. While we were initially gifted with a spectacularly shitty duo of Game Boy Advance games in The Legacy of Goku and Collectible Card Game, everyone's eyes were on what was to be the first 3D DBZ fighter for PS2: Budokai.

That's a pretty big deal, as evidenced from the above intro animation. Mute the rancid (yet catchy) 90's rap song and merely observe the video. Yes, you're watching a replica of the Cha-La Head-Cha-La opening from the Japanese version. For the first time, every scene from this iconic 1989 animation had been rendered in beautiful, luscious 3D. That America was not only treated to a butchered version of the opening for the show but that the original song was axed in favor of Rock the Dragon dilutes the nostalgic impact somewhat. Thankfully, we were too distracted by the shiny PS2 graphics to really notice.

What made Budokai so special is that it framed itself as a genuine celebration of Dragon Ball. It didn't cover every chapter of the saga, but the game sprung to life from the get-go with winks and nods everywhere (just look at all the little character icons up there!). Menus were peppered with animations and stills that perfectly matched the style of Toei Animation (with how the company handled the opening sequences for the sequels, I'm convinced they at least provided the latter for this title). The voices were the same as the show, and the soundtrack--composed by series veteran Kenji Yamamoto in a collaboration with Tower of Power--was so good it had practically defined the game by itself.

And how my heart aches knowing I can no longer appreciate all that.

I say this knowing full well Dragon Ball Z: Budokai never had the deepest battle system; even back then, I was able to discern the more homogenized attacks between most characters in the first two games (the most baffling case being in this title, where one particular combo is literally just a couple kicks. Bear in mind there's a dynamic camera involved). But it was good enough...and cool-looking. Like, really cool. The game's emphasis on arena-destroying supernovas (the best being Mr. Satan-er, Hercule's, where, in a fake plea for mercy, he hands over a remote-controlled bomb to the enemy), emulating the super-fast flurries of punches/kicks through button-mashing sequences, and delivering attacks so hard they send your opponents careening into alternate arenas all authentically matched the show.

Except now it's not. Unlike most games ravaged by time, Budokai's in a...peculiar predicament. For one thing, it's the forerunner in a series that shifted over to cel-shaded graphics just the next year. The awkward graphical look would be bad enough, but there's also the matter of just about everything else. You have the voice acting, which is the same as the show but FUNimation's dubbing for DBZ has always been a mixed bag, to say the least. Then you have the music, which was...no, I don't have the heart to say it yet.

Needless to say, a "just good-enough" battle system can't support all that, no matter how flashy it is. It'd be easy to dismiss it a static relic of its time, yet somehow it's preserved its spot as the fondly-remembered DBZ game by American fans. We could just chalk it up to it being a runaway sales success over here, yet there's other matters to consider, namely that Budokai was the only Dragon Ball Z game for years to host a fully-animated Story Mode that reenacted the original series.

Not that the subsequent games up to 2008's Burst Limit didn't have a Story Mode, but they were all propped up through board games (Budokai 2), 2D "still" images (Budokai 3, although Dragon Universe was mighty cool for what it was), or the models just standing there talking (the entire Sparking!/Budokai Tenkaichi trilogy). Subsequently, Budokai's first stab at retelling the story we all know and love in 3D won by default for most folks.

And it's not like it did so through laziness. For one thing, the cinematics are well-animated for their time. Yes, we can nitpick the grainy textures (look no further than the bleached green of King Kai's planet) or that fart sound that comes out of Yamcha's clenched fist in that one cutscene, but god damn did they look cool. Take how it adapts Goku's iconic transformation into Super Saiyan, where the screen quakes with such intensity every time he screams. It was electrifying to watch as a kid, and even now it's one of the legitimate pieces of direction that holds up.

But wait, I thought I just said the game didn't age well graphically? Yes, well, note how I said it's well-animated, and even then that only applies to the cinematics. While the cutscenes may be of adequate quality, it's shocking how that all falls apart when the fighting comes down. The characters lack breathing animations, and everyone's beefcake designs renders it even more awkward, particularly when a good chunk of victory animations consist of character crossing their arms and grinning smugly into the camera (the winner goes to Piccolo, who hangs his mouth open in stupefied wonder at his endlessly-wiggling antennas).

Needless to say, it's really easy to see why they moved into cel-shading. For instance, there is nothing natural about the power-up animation: as opposed to lifting the iconic stances from the show, characters statically scrunch up into a position quite akin to that of taking a dump. Despite the beefcake designs, there's a real lifeless look to everything that was never going to hold up. While the GameCube version added in a unique cel-shaded look of its own, the animation problems persist.

Honestly, I think I'm even being generous with the cutscenes in regards to modeling. Just look how ghastly Karin (Korin) the cat looks up there. That's actually a shot from the HD version, and apparently whoever was in charge of that remaster couldn't fix such a monstrosity.

Anyway, there's also the matter of VAs. Look, let's be honest: while FUNimation may be the best anime dubbing company in America now, that'd be a difficult case to make in 2002 (let alone when they first started out). While Dragon Ball Z was what got them on the map, it fell victim to about every bad dubbing trope from the late 90's: stilted VA direction, corny scripts, a never-ending replacement BGM, and embarrassing opening songs. You cannot sit here and tell me that a dub host to a character singing "CAT LOVES FOOOOOOD YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAAAH" (if you pay attention, the dialogue exchange doesn't even match the context of the scene) or a villain randomly making homosexual advances is better than the original Japanese, a thing of beauty host to the best seiyuu in the anime industry.

But hey, don't take it from me. Why, who is that handsome young man grilling voice actors Sean Schemmel and Christopher Sabat? That would be me, at last year's Otakon! And I gotta say, while I don't entirely buy the "old equipment" answer, I'm quite impressed with their opinion on nostalgia. After all, it's not like Dragon Ball is some holy grail many of us superfans treat it as such. To some people, it's just their favorite goofy Japanese cartoon they grew up, and the meaning of "dubs vs. subs" hold little meaning to them, and that's quite alright.

With all that in mind, Budokai is a pivotal moment in researching the history of DBZ dubbing. Not only was the show coming to an end in America, but this was the first time the cast was brought together for an extensively-voiced video game. For starters, there's Chris Sabat and his dozen roles: his stern direction for Piccolo had evolved just fine, yet he still hadn't figured out how to make Vegeta sound anything other than, as Kanzenshuu once put it, a guy in a booth doing a gruff voice. Meanwhile, Sonny Strait has come a long way in his voicing Kuririn (Krillin): no longer has his direction for the character rendered him an annoying squeaky-voiced punk, but as a genuine sidekick that immediately grows on you.

And then there's voices that continue to, well, flat-out suck. Like Ocean's Pauline Newstone before her, Linda Young's Freeza remains the most notorious miscast in anime dubbing history. Don't let the lipstick fool you; the character has absolutely zero business sounding like an old woman who's had far too many smokes. Despite being the series' most infamous villain, it's hard to believe that in context when you cannot take anything he says seriously. It goes to show FUNimation's worst casting weakness lied in body type: the less said about Philip Wilburn's squeaky Android #19 and Sean Schemmel's "marble-mouth" Kaio (King Kai), the happier I'll be.

In context of the game, it's interesting to witness the juxtaposition of direction. Rumor has it that Toei representatives oversaw the localization, and it'd definitely show in the Story Mode. Regardless of any voice mismatches, there's not a single instance of dry delivery, further granting the impact these cutscenes had back in the day. And then, once again, it falls apart a bit in actual battles. Characters announce attack names super quickly to accommodate the quick frame executions (check out Gohan's take on Kamehameha), and there's an obvious glitch regarding the Cell character: no matter how much he transforms in battle, he's always stuck with the nasal "bug" voice of his first form. It's something they never actually fixed for the sequels, and it's especially odd when contrasted with the normally-dignified countenance of his Perfect Form.

Add in how the voice clips' muffledness has grown more distinct over the years, and the delivery of the bad voices are amplified. Of course, Freeza is absolutely terrible, but the most egregious cases lie in the representatives of the Ginyu Force. Chris Sabat's Arnold Schwarzenegger impression for Recoome borders on incomprehensible and obnoxious, as is also the case for Captain Ginyu himself. The elderly Brice Armstrong is a baffling replacement for the adequate Dale Kelly; he's clearly too old for the flamboyant character and it shows in his nasal delivery.

Speaking of baffling, we now arrive at the most heartbreaking case of all: Kenji Yamamoto, the soundtrack's composer. No, not the same Kenji Yamamoto who composed the Metroid Prime trilogy; the Kenji Yamamoto who's not only been involved with composing songs for DBZ since its inception, but for all the video games dating back to the Super Famicom era.

As mentioned before, Budokai's score is so damn good that it's practically impossible to discuss the game without bringing it up. What made it excel was that it struck that perfect balance between Dragon Ball's lighthearted humor and adrenaline-rushing action. The above themes, which respectively accompany the menu and character select themes, represent the former and dress up the overall presentation; they're so fun that you can't wait to dive into the action.

And what action it is! Kenji Yamamoto's collaboration with Tower of Power definitely bore fruit; yes, those are real instruments you're hearing, all accompanied through some kickass synth. Raging guitars rev up the familiar locales that are Budokai's battlefields, and they're all the better for it. Combined with the arena-shifting mechanics, one could even say they heighten the glory of a shallow combat system.

The Story Mode isn't neglected, either. They emphasize more on synth, but Yamamoto ensures they inject blood-pumping adrenaline and appropriate drama when needed. The above example is actually spliced into three different components for varying cinematics: quiet anger (when Goku observes his dead friends slain by Nappa), anticipation and encouragement (Goku convincing Gohan to take on Cell), and awesome kickassery (Goku's Super Saiyan form scaring the shit out of Freeza).

Heck, he even goes out of his way to pay homage to the original DBZ recap theme! You see what I mean when I said this game celebrates Dragon Ball? In fact, rumor has it there's a cameo from Super Famicom fighter Super Butoden 2 somewhere...

So, wait, I just spent the past four paragraphs singing the soundtrack's praises. If the music's so good, what's the problem?

Well, it's plagiarized.

Yeah, how's that for a kick in the balls?

Kenji Yamamoto's plagiarism scandal has been well-documented, and while I was careful enough to cite the tracks that (as far as we know) weren't "inspired" from other sources, therein lies the rub. It's immensely disappointing that someone who clearly had talent fell to thievery, let alone the fact that he strung along his none-the-wiser collaborators for the ride. And even in the case of my cited tracks, I'll always be asking myself if they were truly born from his "talent."

Perhaps my memories of how much I enjoyed the game are what's most important, but that they won't live on to future generations is the most heartbreaking factor of this ordeal. Just like how Dragon Ball Kai's soundtrack was swiftly replaced across the world following the scandal, any games currently on the market that had Yamamoto's involvement had their scores replaced with recycled tracks from the Tenkaichi brand of games (which, in themselves, were actually replacements of the original Japanese score).

 

The Budokai HD Collection for PS3/X360 was no exception to the rule. Let it be known the dance music of the Tenkaichi series is not at all like the grounded guitars of Budokai, as evident in this collection of cinematics. It's too blatant how the cutscenes were built around the original score, and all these overly-peppy tracks induce emotional cues so differently that you may as well be watching/playing a whole different game altogether.

And therein lies the real problem: I actually prefer the plagiarized score because it functions better within the game's context. Isn't that messed up? It's too ingrained into me, too loved to accept any morally-correct replacement, and that's all because some jackass in Japan decided it was okay to steal. Maybe I'm at fault, too, but to dismiss it as "it is what it is" feels so wrong.

I love everything else Budokai brings to the table. I love that the Tournament is framed within the World Tournament/Tenkaichi Budokai from the original series (complete with the lovable announcer guy!). I love the concept of custom fighters and collecting abilities through Hoi-Poi Capsules. I love the "what-if" scenarios, particularly the scenarios involving Cell's "nightmare" and The Legend of Hercule, where the big faker actually ends not up being a faker and beats up everyone attending the Cell Game.

But I love that all with a broken heart, and I can no longer call Budokai one of the truly great Dragon Ball games. It doesn't fall nearly into the "so bad it's good" rabbit hole I rediscovered last summer with Sonic Adventure DX, but the polish found in everything else can't save how it's a victim of circumstance. The combination of flash over substance, Toei-blessed presentation vs. generic models, and an amazing soundtrack tainted with plagiarism blend together to create a product with big, gaping cracks gradually rising to the surface.

I suppose it'd be a bit mean to label Budokai mediocre; I mean, I love what it tries to do too much to label it as such, but as it stands, it truly is a relic meant for study and getting one's nostalgic kicks, not entertainment.

(I blame Yamamoto; seriously, fuck you, man.)

Biweekly Music Wednesday! ~No. 30~ Fallin' Love (Mother/EarthBound Beginnings)

Origin: EarthBound Beginnings (Mother)
Plays In: Mt. Itoi Cabin
Status: Original Composition
Composed by: Hirokazu "Hip" Tanaka/Keiichi Suzuki

Over the past several years, I've gradually decided that I want to be a hermit. I'd live in the mountain country home I've always dreamed of, surrounded by trees, fields and mountains that stimulate my inner nostalgia. Walks within forests and alongside mountain roads will be my zen, blue skies and dew-adorned flowers providing endless wonder. It would be a paradise all to my own (barring the company of some cats, naturally).

But why isolate myself? Have my social anxieties and insecurities reached their limit? Is it because I have Asperger's? Sensory issues? Indeed, they're all very likely answers, but I wonder if the more suspicious might believe I'm running away from something; safeguarding myself from a potential trauma, if you will.

In that case, is it because I'm afraid to be hurt by love?

Maybe it's because I realize my dream of young love will never come true.

I have never once dated in my life. After my court jester persona simultaneously ruined my reputation and forced me into seclusion during my grade school years, I never once entertained the idea of dating any of the individuals that helped ruin my social life. Opportunities never sprang in college, either, as I was much too focused in achieving my goals.

Deep down, though, I think I was still wishing for my dream to come true. It was one I secretly cherished for ten years, one centered around an individual I believed understood me more than anyone else. She was the epitome of young love: laughter abound, a never-ending plethora of inside jokes and memories reminisced in warmth, the golden scent of hair, and in possession of the the world's most headspinning smile.

It was an impossible dream, for she never felt the same way. I was just "the friend." But I never stopped dreaming. When I was sailing the high seas of Zelda: The Wind Waker, she and I built a life together on a tropical island. When I was an awkward teenager and endlessly reading video game fanfiction, I'd insert ourselves as the romantic leads. She was my Kairi, my Tetra, my Colette Brunel. Even when I thought I didn't love her, dreams of my mountain abode had her waiting for me at the doorstep.

As they say, however, love is cruel. The dream shattered in a million pieces as we reached twenty, when she began prizing drama and attention above all else. People found themselves being cut out of her life...repeatedly. Being "the friend," I was always the first to get the boot, watching helplessly as the breadth between us grew wider and wider. My own thoughts and feelings become inconsequential, a decade of memories and friendship rendered irrelevant as I soon found myself with nothing but a broken heart and tarnished memories.

It's so easy to say, "I will never fall in love again." It's a mantra I've repeated over the past year and a half, one that has only induced confusion and disbelief from those who've heard it. I do not wish to love because it's so scary to me. For every fairy tale romance that I personally witness, I can cite five more involving closed Facebook accounts, dramatic runaways and abusive relationships. The prospect of investing years into someone else only to end with heartbreak is pointless and far too risky for me.

It's wrong to stereotype, I know, especially after having dealt with the most selfish drama queen on the planet. But when you've invested ten years of unrequited love only to be betrayed not as a romantic partner but as a best friend, it does something to your ego. Any and all conceptions of romance are ruined for you  I do not see the point in any of it. I do not understand why people constantly shut out their friends over ill-fated romantic pursuits, and I do not understand why age-gap relationships are a thing, and I do not understand why some establish cruel hierarchies of power and control to foster distorted notions of love.

It's all incredibly judgmental of me to say, as even the question of "why do people stay in abusive relationships?" often crosses my mind. If my decision to become a hermit hadn't already shown it, such statements prove that even I, too, am selfish. They're born from fear that I'll repeat my mistakes, and anger that things didn't go my way. The maelstrom of insecurities born from Asperger's, sensory issues and previous social encounters gone wrong seem to only cement the deal...

But, say, if I were ever to move on from all that, and I were to love again, who would it be with? Deep down, I already know the answer. It would be with someone who respects me, someone who does not judge me based on my background, but instead understands it and always supports me. Our thoughts and feelings are, respectively, of the utmost importance to each other. 

Such a love would prove that the boons from young love are not exclusive. It'll flutter and waltz with grace and passion, just as when Ana asked Ninten to dance with her. It will not be something I will purposely seek out, but it's a path I'm gradually beginning to accept and possibly open. Maybe sooner than I think.

Final Thoughts: ...is the first time I've ever elaborated on this subject at length on here? It's why experimenting with this column is so fun.

Super Mario 3D World

Super Mario 3D World is a game that should, by all means, be considered a masterpiece in my eyes. It's a labor of love, joy and good ol' fashioned game design that follows off the heels of its 3DS predecessor. Having thoroughly enjoyed Super Mario 3D Land, common sense should entail I'd love its sequel just as much.

And why shouldn't I? It's propped up by a live big band score, which is undoubtedly the funnest Nintendo soundtrack since Rhythm Heaven first visited our American shores. It's polished to oblivion, with secret coins, mushrooms and Luigi sprites hidden everywhere from the most unsuspecting of bushes to the tiniest of bonus stages. The warm, fuzzy nostalgia of Super Mario World aesthetics returns and is just as soft as you remember, with the familiar clean artstyle popping up everywhere in the form of Miiverse stickers and familiar cast members roaming the landscape (the Chargin' Chuck football guys!).

And it sheds the spotlight on cats. Cats! My status as a hardcore cat lover is beset by how all three of my cats treat me like I'm the Anti-Christ, dashing away the moment my lumbering presence enters their personal space and daring only to stare at me from the dark reaches of the stairtop (that, and I forbid myself to watch cat videos on YouTube in fear I'll waste hours watching Scottish Fold kittens). That Mario and Co. appealed to my rejected heart by dressing up in cat costumes and meowing up a storm is the best medicine I've received yet, and I dearly wish for the Cat Suit's appearance in more games.

Super Mario 3D World holds the highest Metacritic score of any game released this console generation. It's the first 3D Mario with full-blown multiplayer, complete with Princess Peach and Toad as playable characters. Nintendo fans far and wide have gleefully proclaimed it's the funnest game they've played in decades; not only that, but to many, 3D World represents Mario's true transition of the 2D formula into 3D. And I, the biggest Nintendo nerd I know, have spent the past year and a half coming to terms with the fact that I'm not in love with it.

Let there be no miscommunication here: Super Mario 3D World is quality. It plays great and oozes personality and charm in everything it does, all the result of love being poured into every line of code. And how my heart aches that I don't appreciate all that as much as I should. As should soon be evident, it's a game I still wrestle my feelings with, as while there are certainly elements of it that I love, I can't fall in love with the package as a whole. I've often wondered if the problem lies within my own high expectations for 3D Mario, a series that essentially created, defined and revolutionized 3D platforming (and gaming, in general) over the span of five previous games. Whereas Mario 64 laid the foundation and the Galaxy series crafted such imaginative heights, 3D World is mainly concerned with just having fun (and one other factor, but we'll get into that shortly).

Not that there's anything wrong with that by itself, but such a goal immediately places 3D World at odds with the Wii U's GamePad controller, a device that Nintendo completely failed to prove its worth. Much like every Wii U title that isn't Nintendo Land, 3D World establishes, at best, periphery involvement with touch-screen control and the like. When considering the heights reached in design and control from 64, Galaxy and even Sunshine, that a potential new avenue of 3D gameplay was discarded in favor of designing a HD sequel to a handheld game remains a poignant disappointment.

However, like how not every Wii game needed motion control, not every Wii U game should be decried for not having touch controls, so despite the franchise's prestige, it wouldn't be entirely fair to single out 3D World for that mistake. But alas, it's within that very mistake that 3D World's biggest flaw is made apparent, one that renders it inferior to even its own predecessor.

It wouldn't be wrong to claim Super Mario 3D World is the culmination of the seeds first sprung in the Galaxy series, where Mario's fantastical adventures in space were guided along in a more linear fashion. While they were still designed around the star-collecting missions from Mario 64 and Sunshine, their more open level design was tossed in consideration of those lost in three-dimensions (that the first two New Super Mario Bros. titles, which revived the 2D gameplay of old, sold significantly more than any 3D Mario title only seemed to prove Nintendo's point). The result: 3D Land's further distillation into a pure platforming experience (one could even perceive that the "3D" portion of the title was a rebranding of this particular Mario genre)

Like 3D Land before it, 3D World emphasizes the nostalgic bare-context of the 2D Mario games of yore. We spot this quality in its speck of a plot, bare minimum usage of text, the timer that inexplicably kills your character, and, as seen above, the flagpole signalling the end of every level. Alone, these aren't problems, but they do contribute to 3D World's biggest flaw: in it's rush to streamline 3D gameplay via 2D tropes, the game forgets to innovate and instead produces a homogenized product.

"Homogenized" as in it borrows too much from 2D Mario, I mean. This isn't to say 3D tropes we've seen before aren't present (as seen with how it unlocks progression via collecting Green Stars), nor am I saying it doesn't possess any new ideas, but then why do I grow so tired of it, then? That 3D World is a sequel to a handheld game to streamline 3D Mario gameplay means it has to juggle between retaining and building upon its tropes within an HD context all the while pointlessly reviving elements from 2D Mario, which naturally presents some problems.

Take the level design, for example. You could argue Galaxy and 3D Land of being homogenized as well, yet they're careful enough to frame their ambitions within their respective contexts. 3D Land is particularly interesting in how the level design is built around the hardware, with levels that go down, down, down or up, up, up appearing all the more imposing and inviting on a tiny handheld screen (when factoring in the 3D, the affect is all the more powerful). It's new, it's fresh, it's uncharted waters for our portly plumber.

And yet note how 3D World borrows some of these levels wholesale without a speck of difference. As expected of a sequel, you may say, but the levels that go up, up, up or present a Zelda-inspired top-down perspective simply don't possess the same magic on an HD level. Yes, the former plays well into the wall-climbing antics of the Cat Suit, but that we've already done this before adds a dull sense of familiarity within the first world.

It's no surprise then that the best levels are the ones built around Mario's new toys. The cloning Double Cherry, in particular, is the game's one true stroke of imagination and presents an unparalleled sense of precision and wonder everywhere it appears. Losing one of your clones to enemy fire or a mistimed jump is a common risk, and it takes some skill to, say, carefully navigate a block slide that, according to their color-coded design, disappear and reappear to the music beat. Something we've already done before, mind you, but points for difficulty.

There are other gadgets for Mario and Co. to fool around with, be it potted Piranha Plants to gobble up foes with and an oversized comfy Ice Skate to ride around in. But as expected, they're sparingly used so as to not grow old. This would okay since the clever "clear" warp pipe idea commonly picks up the slack, but that it's shackled in bringing back 3D Land tropes and coming up with new ideas brings me to my next point.

Look at how bright and colorful that is! Indeed, the colors in 3D World pop with such vividness and festivity that they're often propped by distant fireworks and the like (seriously, try bopping on the innocent Sprixie folk; they shed actual confetti). Here's some more delectable shots below.

Here's one with some modern effects. 3D World's character models and setpieces are polished to the point where reflect the shiny smoothness of toys and action figures, highlighted in the above rainy sequence. Note the rain dripping down the screen.

And then there's setpieces where the game just explodes with color. The hidden Golden Express is pure mouth-watering gold (complete with the aforementioned fireworks to highlight the game's status as a hidden level), wherea lava levels alternate between molten-hot red and delicious, tantalizing blue (often accompanied by a certain music track showcased just a ways down).

Anyone who's played 3D Land should recognize how most of the examples provided above aren't present in the handheld title. What isn't shown are not-so-new levels that while necessary within the sequel context, don't bring much new on their own. For every exciting idea found in train levels (Cat bullet bills!) and Japanese bath houses, you shouldn't expect to see them more than once or twice. Yes, it does a gorgeous job of bringing 3D Land level setpieces into HD, but we've seen these ghost houses before, we've traversed these dessert-themed landscapes before, we've crossed these poisonous swamps before, we've ridden on a sea creature down perilous rivers before. Are they framed in new contexts? Sure, but chances are they've probably originated from earlier Mario adventures (hello, flip switches).

Bosses are also disproportionate in imagination. On the highest end of the spectrum lies the above Motley Bossblob; of course, that it'd use the Double Cherry as the fight's basis guarantees it's success, but look at how inventive it is! The flashy fleshiness of his giant form! The choices of either gunning for his fleeing vulnerable form or hopping on his scattered blobs to reduce his size!

...then you have this Bowser boss, where he rides a sexy giant car to lob bombs at Mario. It's host to the slowest, most boring boss fight in the game in that you have to kick back the bombs while Bowser just chugs along in the car. Within games featuring conflict, cars are generally used to run over people; as this would prove problematic in Mario, it has no option but just to sit there looking pretty. Any other platform could've not only sufficed in hosting Bowser, but to build upon it for a more exciting fight.

World themes, too, face disproportion as like 3D Land, 3D World generally places levels wherever it feels like. This wasn't a problem in 3D Land since most, if not all, of world themes weren't so explicit, but this isn't the case in 3D World. We have explicit takes on ice worlds, deserts, and skies, yet 3D World's sense of progression is totally absent barring the necessary castle level.

Just take a look at the game's biggest thematic folly: World Bowser. Just look at this opening! It's a Bowser-themed carnival hosted by the King of Koopas himself. What an awesome idea! And hey, the first level gets it right: you're infiltrating the carnival via the towers in the outskirts complete with orchestra music! And what follows up is...

A desert slide and a dessert level. Wha?

Progressing through the carnival only brings more disappointment: 3D World introduces circus levels as it's most common recurring trope, yet not a single one of these is in sight! In fact, a good chunk of that amazing shit you see in the opening shot aren't used at all. Instead of being granted rollercoasters, we're treated to the same ol' level tropes that only vaguely relate to evil circus theme.

"What's the big deal," you may ask. It's what I've been arguing all along: the game is far too comfortable with borrowing 2D Mario's sense of bare context. While Mario games shouldn't be bloated with story and dialogue (see Sunshine), that 3D World largely uses familiar world tropes as only crutch as opposed to building upon them (or, y'know, expanding on it's original themes) is a disappointment. The circus does not build upon itself, nor the sky world, or even the ice world. You know there's a problem when a) Super Mario World and even the later NES Mario games excel at this and b) I'm questioning context in a series that's the very definition of "suspension of disbelief". As it is now, 3D World in it's entirety comes across as some sort of gaudy fever dream.

You could say "Well, the desert slide is still a great piece of game design", and so it is. To deny that 3D World isn't designed well is heresy, but that it restricts itself to 2D Mario tropes is what I take issue with. What place do entire levels based around the "race against the clock" concept belong in a 3D platformer, particularly if they're insanely short? Why bother with quick n' dirty enemy blockades? Why include a giant open area in Sprawling Savannah when the ever-present timer naturally deters exploration? Alone, these are nitpicks, but that they keep building and building only serve to prove the game's homogenized nature. That they're included only for the sake of pandering to the 2D titles associates it far too closely with the games in question, and so we lose uniqueness.

So does this mean 3D World is a complete disappointment? Well, not exactly. Yes, 3D World comes up short as an inventive, cohesive title, but that to deny it's status as game designed around providing the player with as many fun scenarios as possible would be, well, rather ungrateful for one and would also undersell how well-designed its stages are. I can't say I agree with how they're fully framed, but these are still Mario levels through and through.

Take the above tribute to Super Mario Kart, for instance. That it takes place in the ice world makes no sense, but the brief time we're granted with it captures Mario Kart brilliantly thanks to the pervasive placement of Boost Pads. That it's combined with bouncy mushroom pads to regain momentum and slides ripped straight out of the Playskool playsets from your youth only seals the deal.

Meanwhile, Sunshine Seaside is absolutely the best beach level in the game due to how involved it is. Echoing some of the collection missions in earlier 3D Mario games, your character of choice has to nab five key coins hidden across the coast. Be it one of the many goodies hidden inside the giant sand statues or breaking up a Chargin' Chuck huddle, there's no stone left unturned. Once complete, you're rewarded with an amazing Plessie ride. Note what's quite possibly 3D World's greatest easter egg: riding around inside Koopa shells. How I'd love to endlessly surf across the stage without the impending ticking of that pesky timer.

And no one could possibly hate the adventures of Captain Toad! These fun breathers from the main adventure take the form of isometric puzzles where the world's most adorable treasure hunter has to hunt down five green stars. It's the one area of the game where the GamePad is put to good use, as the gyroscope is utilized as the camera to help the player navigate and decipher these puzzles. These actually do grow in difficulty and even complexity as the game progresses, and I was always delighted to partake in them.

And once again, my love for the Cat Suit must be elaborated. Say what will you about the actual adventure, but the new suit is undeniably the funnest the Mario gang's had in years. Everything from how the characters prance along to the exact movement of a cat, how they scratch frantically before futilely sliding down walls (leaving loooong claw marks), let out a celebratory meow upon completing a course (or in the case of Toad, the cute little "myew! of a kitten), or even how the developers just added a sneaking maneuver (complete with it's own pounce attack) for no reason other than to be cute just highlights how much fun they had in creating it. Also, Cat Goombas. And Cat Bullet Bills. And Cat Bo...nah, I'll let you find that one out for yourself.

I can't help but resist spoiling one little surprise though. One day I asked myself, "what would happen if I climbed up a clear pipe with Cat Mario?" The picturesque shot above is the result. It's not possible with every clear pipe, of course, and it doesn't even qualify as a shortcut, but it's one of the very few instances of "create your own fun" that 3D World allows. In fact, if you try this in the very first level, you may find a tiny secret hinting the developer knew about this all along.

In that sense, it's best to enjoy 3D World as a "turn your brain off" sorta deal. It might not blow your mind and it's certainly not Mario at his most ambitious, but during the entire time I've wrestled with my feelings over this game, I always ask myself if that really matters. So long as you don't expect anything from 3D World, it works. Maybe not entirely in a way I'd want it to, but even with it's missteps it's still fun and exciting to play.

What can really ease this process is the score. My god, the score. Truth be told, I am growing a little tired of the newer Mario themes borrowing Super Mario Bros. 3's motifs again and again, so I've instead decided to kick off by sharing the game's best boss theme. 3D World apes Big Band music, and Hisstocrat is where that hits its apex. An explosion of drums, trumpets and synth all contribute to the flurry and chaos of that particular boss battle.

While Mahito Yokota takes up the bulk of the soundtrack, veteran Koji Kondo picks up the slack with his new take on the customary Athletic theme (known as Chain Link Charge). As opposed to the typical high-strung energy found in those themes, Chain Link Charge goes for a slower, jazzier tone that I'd imagine wouldn't be too out-of-place in downtown New York. It's certainly the most grounded Athletic, a unique direction that I'd love to see continued in future Mario games.

But let us not downplay the efforts of Mr. Yokota, who's more than proven himself as a master game musician at this point. Fort Fire Bros. presents some of the finest Nintendo flute work in some time, presenting an exotic air alongside the foreboding beat. It works wonders within any of the lava levels it accompanies, but comes across as particularly chilling whenever it's around the shiny new blue ones.

Of course, my favorite has to be the one I've discussed before: Double Cherry Pass utilizes a pair of violins so bouncy and alive that it perfectly taps into that animated Mario zen, rendering any level it accompanies the manifestation of pure joy. That it accompanies the best level in the game (of the same name) is no coincidence, as it heightens the wondrous discovery of the wonderful Double Cherries.

Maybe, for me, it represents a song of forgiveness. I know that Super Mario 3D World is not perfect, and I know I will continue to wrestle with my feelings over it for some time. In an era where Nintendo had to prove the worth of their shiny new GamePad, that it chooses to overly restrict itself by 2D tropes is undeniably disappointing not matter how well it plays.

But whenever I hear this song, I can channel that elusive reverie that I, myself, have been chasing for so long. This may or may not have to do with the fact that the song plays in the level where I can have up to five Cat Marios dance in tune to the music, but that it compels me to forget that and simply do that despite the impending tick-tock of a timer is no small feat.

Perhaps one day, I could simply forget the game's flaws and just play it? In a time where Nintendo is no longer a stranger to HD and downplays wacky gadgets, that may be possible, but that fear of homogenization is a tad too strong now.

Regardless, the game plays well, looks well, sounds well, and, well, manages to make me smile. It may not be my favorite Mario game, but that last factor is a hallmark quality of Mario through and through. And I guess I should be grateful for that. Meow.

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Sorry for the delay, folks! Got too caught up in polishing this before I was satisfied with it. Was I too indecisive? Please let me know!