Take a look around for a few seconds. It doesn’t matter where you are – just go for it. I’ll wait here.

Did you see that stack of papers on the edge of your desk? What the hell are those still doing there? And those books next to your monitor – yeah, you haven’t touched those in weeks. That blob in the bottom of your coffee mug is larger than it was last time you peeked inside. You should give it a name.

Not in an office? Fine. Look at the guy next to you on the bus/train/plane. He looks a little unkempt, no? His appearance might be indicative of stress, sickness, or possibly sleep deprivation. Don’t be alarmed when he nods off and falls asleep on your shoulder.

You might be walking down the street. Maybe you’re shopping or working out or waiting for that man behind the counter to hand over your sandwich. It doesn’t really matter. Unless you’re currently performing surgery – in which case, you’re a horrible doctor – your environment isn’t sterile. Why is this?

Because people are dirty, fallible creatures. We get emotional, we make messes, and the woes of life can and do take tolls on us, both visible and otherwise.

“Awesome – I suck. Good to know. Why isn’t this guy talking about videogames?”

Okay, I’ll get right out with it, then: I want to talk about Mass Effect 2 (minor spoilers ahead). And before I do, please note that I absolutely adore this game. In my humble opinion, no other developer has come close to what BioWare achieved in Shepard’s latest adventure. It’s got characters with convincing motives and interesting histories, choices with real consequences, sleek RPG elements, smooth combat, beautiful graphics and sound design – the list could go on.

But the game could be better. It could be alive.

Shepard and his crew could be dirty, fallible creatures who show emotion, make messes, and display the woes of life. Just like all humans – and Asari, and Krogan, and Quarians, and Drell, and Turians, and Salarians – do in the real world. Notice that I left out Geth. Those guys are fucking clean.

Instead, the Normandy is so sterile that Shepard could pursue a relationship with a toilet and he’d be okay. Stop imagining how that love scene would play out. (Spoilers: there’s a lot of flushing involved.)

When you visit your squad members, what do you see? Well, Miranda is always sitting at her table. Same for Thane. Legion is always standing next to EDI’s main processing core. Grunt is always standing next to his growth pod. Zaeed is always standing around, being as unlikable as ever. Samara is sitting. Garrus is standing. Kasumi is sitting. Jacob is standing.

Your friends are remarkably static. They’ll open up some in conversation, yes, but, externally, they’ll never change. They are plastic.

Imagine this scenario I’ve crafted: after letting Vido Santiago escape during Zaeed’s loyalty mission, you approach his quarters to have a chat. As you get near the door, you hear him stomping about, cursing Shepard’s name in that crazy accent of his. You walk in to find the room in ruins. His gun collection is strewn about. Papers are scattered. It’s a mess. Then Zaeed broodingly walks out from the back room, weapon gripped tightly in his shaking hands. You honestly think he might try to shoot you.

But in the game, you walk in to find him just standing there. He tries to impress you by talking about how many men he’s shot and how many gallons of chocolate syrup he can drink (or something like that).

Grunt’s turn. Remember when he goes through the Krogan equivalent of puberty, and he just wants to kill everything and resents being pent up inside a ship? How neat would it be if, during his conversation with the player, Shepard could say something to royally piss off Grunt? In response, the Krogan slams his fist down on a nearby table, leaving a massive dent on the surface. From then on, whenever you enter his room and see that dent, you remember why it’s there. A small detail, sure, but in a game where you’re building relationships and earning loyalty, the small things count.

Maybe as you walk by Mordin’s lab you could hear him singing or cheerfully whistling to himself. Then, after a stressful event occurs, you walk in and find him slouched over his uncharacteristically disorderly equipment. He’s growing a space beard and drinking space coffee. Instead of him greeting you in his usual, ecstatic manner, he wearily looks up at you, rubs his elongated neck, and drearily utters, “Hello, Shepard.” He then looks down and returns to work with admirable Salarian determination.

Maybe Garrus is pacing back and forth, unsure about the team’s chances of success against the Collectors. He had a similar conversation with Shepard in the first game about potentially not stopping Saren, so displaying that anxiety again would show a different side of one of the calmest and most respected individuals aboard the Normandy.

Maybe Miranda is standing at her window and looking out at the blackness of space. She’s wearing her Batman pajamas, which ironically could be loose-fitting and actually suitable for combat. Her bed is unmade, and you conclude that she was having trouble sleeping. As you approach her, she turns to you with tears in her eyes. She asks you how long it will be until you can check up on her sister.

See what I mean?

The best characters in fiction aren’t one-sided. They aren’t purely evil or purely good. They aren’t always elated or always angry. People (and aliens) are complex creatures with a wide variety of emotions and attitudes. Even the bravest of the brave will have moments of doubt and fear. They get sloppy and lose determination.

BioWare, let me live these moments with your characters. You have the cast in place. The plot has reached a boiling point.

Now bring Mass Effect to life.

The Game Developers’ Conference has come and gone, but we here at TotalPlayStation are still talking about it – Infamous 2, Resistance 3, The Darkness II, and, of course, Shenmue III. But much more than the particulars of this year’s specific show, there are the holistic generalities: what is the role of the conference in the structure that is known as public relations? Just how should the average gamer – and journo – perceive and interact with the event? And should something major be done to GDC, such as stripping the public at large of its access and rendering it a cabalistic, ritualistic affair?

Andy Curtiss
Staff Writer
Our victim… er… topic of conversation? This year’s GDC. It’s come and gone in the blink of an eye. And I know, based on comments I’ve heard, that some of you were more disappointed than others. So let loose – how disappointed are you? Was there anything at all for PlayStation fans to enjoy? Or was it all developer mumbo-jumbo?

Discuss!

Sam Bishop
Editor-in-chief
I actually thought it was a really good show. Obviously, it’s never going to be E3 (or, at least, I hope that’s the case), but there were a few neat reveals that I’m churning through right now and there should be plenty for our readers to digest by the time they hear about our little conversation here. The reveal of The Darkness II took both JD and I by surprise; Digital Extremes is really embracing the comics side of things, and they’ve done a hell of a job with capturing a kind of semi-cartoony, exaggerated feel to the animation and cutscenes. It really does look like a comic brought to life, and any worries I had about Starbreeze not being on the project anymore were allayed by the short little demo they showed us.

Some of the other reveals, like Infamous 2’s Mission Creator, Resistance 3’s multiplayer stuff, just getting the chance to go hands-on with some of the single-player bits of both those games – plus final MotorStorm Apocalypse – seeing what Snowblind has been up to with their Lord of the Rings game, and seeing some indie stuff that we may or may not be actually getting on the PSN was really neat. Personally, I would have liked to have been able to jump into more sessions and just listen to devs talking about their stuff, but, overall, the show was surprisingly packed with updates and new information on a lot of games we knew were coming. E3’s the time for big reveals, but this was at least a nice way to catch up on a bunch of stuff.

Oh, and I need dat NGP action. It looks so very nice up-close.

Ryan Green
Managing Editor
I don’t know. As exciting as new details about Infamous 2 and other properties is, GDC doesn’t excite me. Ever. Ultimately, I care about the games, not what goes into them. I’m not a developer, so extensive talks about how to optimize lighting in a vacuum setting, featuring real-life numbers, means crap to me. Optimize all of the netcode you want; all I care about is the end result. And that is what a lot of people, from the shareholders to the eight-year-old getting his mom to buy him the Halos, care about.

That said, I totally give a crap about mention of Shenmue III. It was just a passing mention, but as a guy that enjoyed the original Shenmue (and narrowly escaped playing the sequel), the idea of bringing the franchise back is cool with me. Bring me HD ports (or even better, remakes) of the bat-crap crazy original entries, or just the conclusion, or something! Don’t just bring Ryo back for another Sonic cart racer – drop his name at GDC, and then produce nothing.

GDC is, at best, a place for developers to tease the on-looking internet trolls like us with the promise of something much greater to come. At worst, it is all about colleagues, friends, and students getting together and sharing great ideas with each other. But that is sort of backwards, isn’t it? “At best” should be the learning, and “at worst” should be the PR nonsense, teases, and everything else that is otherwise meaningless to the people that work on games. Of course, that is sort of a greater problem in today’s conference setting.

Marc N. Kleinhenz
Features Editor
GDC bored me this year. This, however, is not a bad thing in the slightest, for, as Ryan mentioned, the conference should be focused upon game development and should ignore publisher-induced media frenzies as much as possible.

Given that, however, I’m continued to be impressed by the 3DS. Although not major revelations, the announcements of Netflix support, the inclusion of Game Gear and TurboGrafx-16 games for the system’s version of the Virtual Console, and, of course, a new Super Mario game make a very happy handheld gamer, indeed. And I only have a little while left to wait for all the new services…

And Shenmue, one of the biggest – but certainly not the last – disappointments unleashed by the walking accident that is Sega, can remain dead, thank you very much.

Nathan Tsui
Staff Writer
I honestly don’t have too much to say about this topic, because, for whatever combination of reasons this year, I didn’t end up following GDC too closely. It really felt like it was over before I’d even noticed it had started. And reflecting back on it now, I can’t remember a single thing that was announced during the conference specifically, but that just might be my terrible memory.

I actually got to try out the 3DS at the SXSW Interactive thing, and I wasn’t terribly impressed. I played SSF4 3D, but mainly I was testing out the technology. It’s more like looking into a box than having stuff pop out of the screen towards you. The effect is kind of interesting, but it’s somewhat blurry (at least, to me), and I could see it being a nuisance more than anything after an extended amount of play time. In fact, I was able to get my hands on the demo unit so easily because a kid with glasses handed it over to me, saying that it was giving him a headache. I played around with it by looking at it from all different angles and messing with the slider, and my ultimate conclusion was that $250 is way too much for this thing.

And Marc, I oughtta castrate you for those comments on Sega and Shenmue! Damn yoooouuuuuuu!

Ryan Green
Managing Editor
Marc is just upset that he searched for years in Japan and never found Ryo’s home. He wanted to ransack it for the mint condition Sega Saturn inside of it.

There are some really neat ideas that will come out of developers talking about and working on 3D technology. This year, the only thing I remember even close to that was Crytek’s passive 3D engine. Companies are either working on glasses-less 3D or wear-your-own-prescription glasses 3D, but I have yet to find one that didn’t make people sick. Crytek seems like they are on to something, but they still have some work to do there. The 3DS might prove, on a larger scale, that “3D works but who cares?” Like Nathan said, it made him a little sick, and that has been a consistent response from people when using 3D devices. If it, at all, has the potential to make people ill, it might not be worth investing in.

Perhaps GDC this year was a good test to see if developers, save for their publishers, care about the technology.

Aram Lecis
Señor Editor
To be honest, if I had my druthers, I’d probably go to GDC over any other “expo”-type event, simply because it is something a bit different. Sure, not a lot of info came out that was particularly titillating for the average gamer (save for the aforementioned Infamous 2 info), but the idea of developers getting together to share their ideas seems like it would have much better far-reaching effects for gamers in the long run. It’s also a much better opportunity for journalists to interact with the people who create the games we love, since they are not inundated with appointments and exhausted from the show floor.

That being said, I can’t deny the dearth of interesting info that came out of this year’s GDC. I think Sam put up a dozen previews here at the site, and while they were informative and interesting, I don’t think any of us got a lot of new info out of them. Even looking beyond the bounds of Sony, there still wasn’t a whole lot out there unless you were totally shocked that Nintendo is making more Zelda games or you
somehow hadn’t absorbed the barge full of information out there about the 3DS.

If there had been information about Shenmue III or even some sort of Shenmue MMO, that would have been pretty thrilling to me, despite
Marc’s stick-in-the-mud opinion.

Sure, GDC will never be the goldmine of new game announcements that E3 is, but, in the long run, I maintain that without GDC to plant the seeds of new innovations and ideas, E3 would never see those announcements, either.

Marc N. Kleinhenz
Features Editor
I think Ryo’s house was washed away in the tsunami. Too soon?

Given the more-or-less consistent sentiment regarding GDC, does anyone think that the conference would be best served by having it be closed completely to the public? Wouldn’t the most conducive environment to collaboration and development be one completely devoid of self-consciousness?

And, just for the record, I do miss my Dreamcast. Samba de Amigo is some of the most fun my wife and I have had with gaming – it’s kinda odd to think that Sega had Harmonix beat by some six years – and Chu Chu Rocket should definitely be a 3DS launch game (space cats in 3D? Oh, yeah, baby).

But one does have to admit that Sega is kind of the leper of the videogame industry – everything it touches tends to implode or otherwise decompose into a stinking heap of flesh. Or something.

Aram Lecis
Señor Editor
Yakuza seems to be doing all right for them… it’s pretty much Shenmue for (slightly) less niche gamers.

I like GDC being semi-open. I think that giving a little transparency to the inner working of the industry is nice, and I shouldn’t have to be an “insider” to enjoy a talk form Will Wright about the Br0derbund days…

Parjanya Holtz
Senior Editor
Aren’t E3 and the likes more like GPC in that sense – the Game Publishers’ Conference?

Sam Bishop
Editor-in-chief
GDC is still very much about devs and people trying to break in. It’s “open” to the public in the sense that if someone has a couple hundred bucks, they can get into the sessions and the Career Pavilion, but it’s not like E3 where you have to be a part of the industry to get in. GDC as it is now is fantastic; the press stuff happens outside the conference itself in hotels and such around the area. So it’s actually a pretty decent trade-off right now. The industry can chat about making games with other people that make games, and the press folks can get updated impressions of stuff and maybe take away something from the odd keynote. Win-win.

Marc N. Kleinhenz
Features Editor
Winning!

Long ago, when PC gaming was still king, the best games would often get expansions that cost a fraction of the full-game price and offered a brand-new campaign or set of levels. Truth be told, those things still exist, although the popularity and distribution methods of PC gaming have changed quite a bit over the years. Back then, though, console gamers were left out in the cold more often than not when it came to extra content; we simply didn’t have the technology to easily deliver that content, nor the integrated hard drives to allow for easy assimilation into existing games.

Times have changed pretty radically, however, and now most people have high-speed internet connections that make the 14.4 modems of the past absolutely archaic, and new consoles come packed with enough storage space to hold dozens of full games. But expansion packs still haven’t made their way to consoles with any sort of regularity, and with the new focus on high development costs and yearly iterations of franchises, I’d say we won’t likely ever see them again. Instead, the flavor of the day is the ubiquitous downloadable content (or DLC, as it has become colloquially known).

I’m not sure any innovation in gaming has distressed me as much as the advent of DLC. I fully understand the need to bump the standard price for a retail game from $50 to $60, given that after 15-plus years at the former price point, we were due for an increase, especially since development costs have risen exponentially (and haven’t been offset by the rise in sales and popularity for videogames). I don’t even mind the extra $10-$30 that gets tacked on for “special editions” as long as they offer something tangible, like a collectable lunch box or other knick-knacks. What kills me is the DLC that you are almost forced to buy to get the full game experience, which often ends up pushing the final cost of the game to $100 or more. It’s a very transparent cash grab by greedy publishers, and it is slowly pushing me away from console gaming.

In the interest of fairness, not all DLC is evil. There are a number of different types of downloadable content, and some developers/publishers use this new medium in the proper way. Let’s take a look at the various types:

1. DLC that adds sizable content that takes place outside the vanilla game, yet integrates well into the existing world. The prime example here is the Fallout series, which has received numerous, excellent add-ons that are purely optional but very well-crafted.

2. DLC that provides trinkets and items that are purely cosmetic additions and are not necessary for the full game experience. See the Ace Combat series for an over-the-top example of this type of content.

3. DLC that provides trinkets and items that drastically alter the balance of the game by providing overpowered weapons or armor to the user. In a single-player environment, these are optional and probably nice for those that struggle with completing the game, but in a multiplayer scenario, they can destroy the competitive balance. The Dead Space series is a good example of this. Often this type of content is offered as a pre-order bonus from various distributors.

4. Map packs in first-person shooters. Occasionally these are provided for free, but more often than not, they cost $15 to add four or five new maps into the rotation for online games, and they are pretty much a requirement for anyone that plans on playing the game regularly. Popular titles can see the release of three or four of these packs, pushing the price of the game into triple digits if you want to keep playing. Check out any Call of Duty or Halo installment to see this.

5. Increasingly popular is the “online pass” that comes with every new copy of the game, but requires a $10 fee to get online with a used copy. Electronics Arts has championed this particular type of DLC, with everything from Madden to the recent Need for Speed: Hot Pursuit. Blame GameStop for this one.

6. DLC that was once part of the final product but was then stripped out at the last minute (but left on the disc) so it could then be sold later at a premium price, often day-and-date with the release. Many times, the story will feel incomplete and have notable gaps if you haven’t bit the bullet and bought into the “extra” downloadable content. Mafia 2 and Dragon Age 2 are prime examples of this practice.

I certainly have no issue with the first type. Fallout 3 and Mass Effect 2 were given additional life by the steady release of fully-fleshed-out and interesting content that came out over the course of a year after the release of the main titles. One could easily spend dozens of hours with just the stock game and never feel like he was missing out on a thing; the extra content was there for those who loved the universe and felt like they wanted to explore it more. I absolutely support any developer who wants to go this route.

I find I have varying levels of distaste for the rest of these scenarios, though. If someone wants to spend good money on horse armor or on having all the cars in Burnout: Paradise unlocked for her so she doesn’t have to play the actual game, well, I might not be into it, but I ‘m not going to get all up in arms over something that doesn’t affect me. Map packs are something that does bother me; oftentimes, these packs are just rehashes of maps from earlier entries in the series and, thus, don’t require much effort on the part of developers – and even the ones that are entirely new seem like they should be priced a tad bit more reasonably. They also serve to fracture the online community, since you can’t play with those that don’t have the new content, and once a game gets older and the online presence starts to die out, such a schism can essentially break the experience for folks who don’t want to invest another $45 in a title they already plopped down $60 for.

The “online pass” is something I understand the need for, but, at the same time, I can’t help but feel like I am being punished for the greed of GameStop (and, now, Best Buy). I fully understand developers’ frustration at used game sales sucking up all of their profits – they obviously don’t get a dime for GameStop’s second-hand wares – and I also understand why stores push so hard for consumers to purchase the used version, given that their profit margin is so much larger. But punishing the end user for this seems a little disingenuous. I pity the poor fool who is convinced he should get a game used at GameStop for $5 off the retail price, only to get home and find out he needs to pay another $10 to play the game online, something the employee likely didn’t mention during the sale. Poor Joe SixPack now has shelled out $5 more than a new game would have cost to get a dinged-up version (often in a generic case) through no real fault of his own, other than ignorance.

But the scourge of all gaming is the now-almost-standard practice of yanking content from a full game and forcing people to pay extra to get the remainder of the experience. I find this to be shady, insulting, and even a bit unethical. This is almost always a publisher choice; I am willing to bet most developers don’t want their games hacked up, especially knowing that many players, since they will never purchase the DLC, will be left with an incomplete experience and vaguely resentful feelings. The latest Prince of Persia offering was sold without a real ending, which was there when the game was developed but which was pulled after someone decided that they could get another $10-$15 out of innocent consumers by selling it a month later. The truth of the matter, sadly, is that most people finished the game, got disgusted with the lack of resolution, and never picked up the DLC – and, thus, were turned off of the series. Any time DLC is included on the disc itself, it’s an extra slap in the face. There is no reason other than pure greed to lock out that content, especially when it is already in the player’s hand. I personally will never pay one red cent for any of that content, and I refuse to support any publisher who wants to go that route. Unfortunately, with the major companies, this approach seems to be turning into the standard rather than the exception, and I honestly feel it is ruining gaming.

I don’t expect any of you to join me in my boycott, but just remember – if you support the wrong sort of DLC, it will only become more prevalent, so much so that, one day, our $60 will just buy us a game engine. If you actually want something to do in that world, be prepared to turn over your bank account details to EA and Activision.

There’s an old saying about pleasing some of the people some of the time…

The highly anticipated – and highly advertised – sequel to Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age 2, was released on March 8th, 2011…much to the dismay of some of its “fans.” Apparently, a sect of the more vocal constituents of the preceding game have cried out to the Maker in agony, struck by despair at their sense of betrayal for receiving a game so horrible, it cannot be played. At least, if Metacritic.com’s own user-created reviews are to be regarded as a fair and balanced response to the sequel. Yes, the internet is always an excellent source for objective criticism.

But what’s strange is the vast difference in response from the critics’ reviews and the user reviews on Metacritic. Surely, the occasional fan will take umbrage at a game in a way that differs from the popular critical response, or even the majority view of other users, but Dragon Age 2 plays an unusual role here. The critical Metascore for the game is an 80/82/83 (360/PS3/PC), while the user scores are 4.3/3.8/4.3; it would be enough if only a handful of people reviewed the game, but there are a total of over 5,000 user reviews for this title alone! This kind of response for videogames is actually more common on Metacritic than you might think – for example, Call of Duty: Black Ops has an equivalent critic-to-user difference of an average of 30 points (using Metacritic’s critic-based scoring). But for a title like DA2 to receive this kind of blog-flogging from its prior supporters seems strange considering developer BioWare’s commitment to producing games with its fans in mind.

So, why all the hate? Is this game so terrible? Apparently, in this case, it does depend on who you ask. The venom that has been spewed forth – especially on BioWare’s own messageboards – about feelings of the title being “garbage,” “a failure,” and even the “death of the series” are extreme, to say the least. But this seems to be more the case of those vocal few who view the internet as an outlet for extreme opinions, rather than those who have assessed the game on its own merit. Considering the majority of these opinions surfaced in short time after the launch of the game, one wonders just how much critical attention the outspoken “fans” truly devoted to this title.

Perhaps some (if not most) of this is due to the antagonistic relationship outspoken gamers have with sequels. Some resent publishers for producing sequels, claiming that they are produced simply to capitalize on the success of their predecessors. While this is true (after all, why make a game you intend to make no money on?), these same individuals fail to recognize that many games now have the capacity to tell an interactive story far beyond the scope of games of yore. And these same games – and their corresponding stories – develop and grow with time. Sequels (and DLC, to an extent) are the extension of that philosophy.

To be fair, the game is not without its share of shortcomings. I wonder who the architect of Kirkwall was, and his obsessive compulsion to design each cave, warehouse, or Hightown mansion in a uniform way, much less the interior decorators, who furnish each home with frighteningly similar paintings, chairs, et cetera. Or, perhaps, the unusual amount of dropped equipment that the player will likely never use, especially with regards to armor. And I still chuckle when I visit the Viscount’s manor and hear the canned background speech from one poor soul who apparently has been forced to wait to see the ruler of the city for over three years, if the game’s chronology is to be believed.

But for all its idiosyncrasies, the game is a triumph of episodic gameplay, in its own way. The massive collection of quests gives the player a variety of different residents of Kirkwall to interact with – and sometimes kill and loot. Moral choices and lasting consequences are still as ubiquitous in Dragon Age 2 as they are in many BioWare games, but now the end results of your actions are more clearly defined in many cases, giving the player the freedom to direct the story better than its predecessor did. The combat system is fast and dynamic, the tactics portion of combat is more accessible and meaningful (with the addition of cross-class combos), and attributes and abilities are more balanced and multi-functional than before. And not once did I have to backtrack to a shop before completing a quest to sell loot, simply because I was “too encumbered” (take that, Fallout 3!).

One of the best moments you can appreciate how much detail has gone into the “streamlined” art direction of the game comes when you compare the detail between the different races and characters in both games. Elves and dwarves especially look more distinct from their predecessors’ counterparts, giving them a visual personality. But no other race has undergone such drastic alteration as the Qunari. Now endowed with horns, and a stone-like fleshtone, they remind me of what design choices went into the Klingons of Star Trek after their first appearances on the television series. But to truly see the difference, you will have to encounter one of your former companions. After I met up with one from the first game (no spoilers), I was amazed how much more animation and detail went into his (okay, little spoiler) appearance this go around.

Where DA2 shines the most is in its intricate story. According to lead designer Mike Laidlaw in the foreword for the strategy guide (beautifully designed by Piggyback Interactive), the development team “jokingly used to pitch [Dragon Age 2] as ‘two archdemons stapled together to lead a super Blight!’ Perhaps you can see why [they] wanted something different.” While this is apparently lost on some so-called “fans” of Dragon Age: Origins, the story is the beginning of an exciting epic, much as the Assassin’s Creed series has bravely adopted.

This game explores a rare place in the fiction of any game, one where politics and intrigue play out around the Champion of Kirkwall’s heroics. Quests and interactions with the major players in Kirkwall are some of the most fascinating moments in any role-playing game. Between the ruling Viscount Dumar, the Fereldan refugees (of which Hawke, the protagonist, is a member), Knight-Commander Meredith, and the Arishok – a figure who leads his people through the harsh tenets of the Qun – DA2 is stuffed full with moments of tension and believable characters with identifiable motives. The underlying parallels between conflicts of religion, race, and government in the game are almost painfully recognizable in our own modern world, only previously hinted at in Origins, now explosively relevant in the context of its sequel. To see these comparisons made in the fantasy world of Thedas makes for some intelligent storytelling that requires its audience to draw their own conclusions.

In the end, Dragon Age 2 is, in many ways, much like the entertaining supporting characters that ally themselves with Hawke. Like the saucy pirate vixen Isabella, it is a tarnished beauty; already in its short life, it has endured wildly varied support and extreme – and unfair – condemnation. Like Fenris, former Tevinter Imperium slave and fugitive, it has fought against the trappings of its former life, and been attacked for daring to live in a way different than the unfair expectations posited upon it by its users. And, maybe like Anders (imagine Malcolm X as a mage), I, too, rally to defend this enjoyable title from unfair persecution, and enjoy DA2 for what it is – a fun game.

In 2005, a child was born to the videogame world. Its father? The music industry. The little bundle of joy would go on to be christened Guitar Hero. The inspiration of this would-be giant came from peripheral maker RedOctane, who had recently developed a guitar-shaped controller for Konami’s arcade game Guitar Freaks. It would go on to have an unbelievably large effect upon both of its parent industries.

The release of Guitar Hero is one of those events in videogame history that everyone remembers to some degree or another. “Cultural phenomenon” became the phrase to describe it; some journalists even went a step further to call it “one of the most influential products of the first decade of the 21st century.” Sound like a little much? It did to me at first, too – until I took a step back and realized what it had accomplished. Not only had GH single-handedly spawned an entire genre that raked in, literally, billions of dollars worldwide, it had also boosted sales of music globally – and not just new artists, but old ones, as well. As if that weren’t enough, here’s a piece of trivia that may surprise you: researchers at Johns Hopkins University have used Guitar Hero as treatment for amputee patients and those needing new prosthetic limbs. Additionally, the music and dexterity-based controllers are credited for helping stroke patients regain coordination.

And then there’s the franchise’s offspring. RedOctane had teamed with Harmonix Music Systems to make the first GH (which was then distributed by Activision), but RedOctane would go on to be purchased by Activision, and Harmonix – which was acquired by Viacom through its MTV Networks division – would strike out on their own to create Rock Band, a game which took the Guitar Hero concept by the hand and guided it a step further, adding more instruments, such as drums, vocals, and even (later on) keyboard. In this way, the two games are cousins… or step-brothers… or something like that.

The next six years would see Guitar Hero become an incredible success – such a success, in fact, that, by 2008, the market for the newly-dubbed rhythm genre was worth $1.4 billion. Activision would go on to pump out more then 15 different versions, expansions, and spin-offs (such as Band Hero and DJ Hero). All the while, its relative, Rock Band, was doing the same to a lesser degree. Some of the expansions were specific to certain bands, such as The Beatles and Metallica. Other sequels offered new graphics, modes, and other goodies. But things weren’t destined to stay so bright and sunny. In 2009, a new word was being used to describe the games that everyone had clamored to buy four years earlier: over-saturation.

So what did it? Was it Activision in the lounge with the lead pipe? Or perhaps it was recession in the library with the revolver? It’s no secret that Activision had received some criticism for making all the GH games virtually the same; several prominent journalists and analysts in the videogame community pointed out that it would have behooved the publisher to continue to innovate and find new ways to mix gaming and music. Instead, they flooded the market with the same game over and over again. Like any good fad, people continued to purchase the living daylights out of GH – until they caught on to what was happening, and then many turned their focus to Rock Band, which had at least innovated in the form of new instruments. Despite all the indications of impending doom, Activation continued with its blind strategy of pumping out more of the same.

But perhaps the company isn’t all to blame. They had a great concept with Guitar Hero. There’s the old saying: “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” – and the series wasn’t broken, per se. And goodness knows that the recession that hit our country in the latter half of the 2000s did its fair share of damage; there were virtually no industries anywhere in the United States that weren’t affected in some way by the sudden tightening of purse strings. There is, in fact, the going theory that, perhaps, if the recession hadn’t happened, Activision would have had more cash to pour into making something more out of GH then just the same old, same old. This is all speculation, of course, but well worth pondering.

Finally – and most sadly of all – maybe people were just over rhythm games. It’s a fact that Rock Band’s sales have also been down, so much so that 15% of Harmonix’s 250-person workforce has been laid off and MTV Games has been completely shut down for good. Not enough bad indicators? Then how about this: Viacom, who was so quick to buy Harmonix at the peak of their popularity for millions of dollars, just recently turned around and sold the company – back to their shareholders, which was the best deal they could find. (On the plus side, though, this transaction effectively makes Harmonix an independent developer again. And since they still hold the intellectual rights to both Rock Band and newly-released Dance Central, there just may be a silver lining in this gloomy cloud.)

With the fad of rhythm games coming to an end, we are left with those few, but faithful, fans that actually loved the genre for what it was, not just for the moment of glory that it had. The only problem here is that these fans aren’t enough to keep the genre going at the pace it was – but, to some of these diehards, that’s actually a good thing. Many people were upset by the previously mentioned lack of innovation, and more then one fan has commented to me, since starting this editorial, that they hope the demise of Guitar Hero would allow Harmonix to step back, reevaluate the situation, and come up with the Next Big Thing. It’s just sad to this writer that the catalyst of this possible change is the death of the entire original series, as well as that of RedOctane, the original brainchild, who was axed one year ago by parent company Activision (yes, they bought the peripheral manufacturer hand-in-hand with GH) when the market started to sour. They were 12-years-old.

So I leave it up to you, dear reader, to decide for yourself who killed this once-dominating giant. For one to climb so high and to fall so far is a sad thing to behold, but, more than anything, it should serve as an important lesson to the entire industry that innovation and change are key. One would like to think that Activision will, indeed, take this to heart, but, then again, I’ve often been accused of giving people too much credit. Or perhaps the morale of the story is that fads come and go with the tides. Or maybe – just maybe – the fault lies with the conservatives for causing the Great Recession. Just kidding! (Or am I?)

Whichever school of thought you subscribe to, however, I hope that you’ll give a moment of silence to our fallen comrade, Guitar Hero.