My Evil Monkey Brain

People tend to think of video games as a waste of time. I think that, for many lifelong gamers, there is a distinct difference between gamers and people who don’t game in the way they view the world. It has little to do with violence, or time management. It is a much simpler, much more sublime process. There is a lot to do with dexterity and concentration and aim, which are good points of fine motor skill which are, in general, the result of minutiae and the incorporation of training exercises into a form of enjoyable play.

My evil monkey brain sees a coconut. The coconut contains delicious coconutty goodness. So I try to break it with my thumbs. No good. I try a wall. No good. I try a big rock… and make a mess. I try a sharply angled rock, and the monkey eats.

Humans can problem solve, and this is a skill that many video games teach.

At Best Buy, a gentleman can come up to me and say his TV is not working. I’ll ask him if he tried plugging in the wires, and tried a different set of wires, was on the right input. All simple questions that most people cannot answer. Now a gamer, from the old console gypsie who moved the systems all around the house to the young kids whose TV’s are far easier, there is a consistency. We try everything to get the TV (or other problem) to work.

Video games are not the sole provider of good problem solving skills, but good games are. Games that are not… well, they’re becoming more common. My biggest problem with Guitar Hero is not that one isn’t spending those hours learning to play a guitar, it’s that you are learning a set routine. In games such as Sonic the Hedgehog, you are rewarded for your routine.

I am a reactive gamer, and my evil monkey brain dislikes learning repetition in a video game. This is easily seen in Guilty Gear matches with Angsty Gaijin.

I am accused of button mashing. It is true I don’t know what the buttons don’t’ do in some elaborate chain, but I do know what buttons hurt, what buttons block, and my goal is to hit somebody. I do damage, because my mind is not encumbered by patterns, it is only that I have a simple arsenal that no one expects because video game fanatics who learn games like Guilty Gear learn how to do moves. I simply learn how to hit somebody, and that makes me a threat because I am not picky about how it’s done. I know some combos, but I don’t care. I want to hit, and I hit.

There are reactive gamers, and there are system gamers. Angsty is a systems gamer. Do ____ without ____ and master ____ and you’ll probably win. This is the basis for games such as Guitar Hero, DDR, and any game where perfection is rewarded. It is satisfactory in the fact that you can master a very complicated string of issues with success.

To a reactive gamer, this is positively droll. Now games are systems. X then Y then Z and maybe a bit of A again to get to the final goal or score. Games that reward reactions… well, I tend to frustrate people.

Smash Brothers, Mario Kart, and Halo. I have a very limited amount of skill for memorization, but these are games with what we can call random events. A mallet from the sky, for instance, or the randomness of weapons combat in Mario Kart or weapon placement in an open may in the wider stages of Halo. In these environments, I am a juggernaut of pwnage. A reactionary gamer learns what they need to win, and how to use the environment to their advantage.

Systems gamers will play those games (particularly Halo and Smash) and learn the exact timing cues for many of the characters, grenade throws, etc.). I will admit this gives them a better chance to beat me, but not every time. Never every time.

System gamers weaknesses is that they are obsessed with the pattern and the execution. Always. If Angsty is a certain distance from the screen, I can almost be certain he’ll dash towards or execute a distance attack. I can beat him, and beat him into the ground, because I don’t care about what it takes to get the job done. It’s not a system of moves, it’s about the openings, and nothing, nothing else.

This is on my mind because tonight was the Super Bowl, and arguably one of the greatest football teams on the planet was beaten by a team with a considerably more reactive effort.

As watching the Super Bowl is not a matter of an event but rather one of avid interest, I shall put forth a few facts.

The New England Patriots are a better football team. They won 18 games. They drill and drill and drill and drill and can execute most plays better than any team I have ever seen.

So why did they lose tonight?

In the leadup to the game, there has been a lot written on sports pages about how each team plays the game.

Bill Bellichick is the coach of the Patriots, and he’s one of the first coaches to practice the art of metrics. Measure everything you and everyone else does. Find the perfect play. Memorize the moves. Learn the weaknesses, and execute.

His quarterback is a laser, setting and beating records. He has thrown more touchdown in a season than any big name, won more games in one season than Brett Favre, John Elway, Joe Montana, Dan Marino, or anyone else a casual passerby of this sport might recognize.

The Giants studied how to contain the perfection. Throw the other team off balance. Their quarterback is Eli Manning, who is good but often erratic.

Indeed, Tom Brady wasn’t on his best game, his throws were off the mark, but he’s still a laser, and coming into the last 5 minutes of the game, they were leading.

Eli Manning made the play of his life. He broke a tackle of about 3 defenders, composed himself, and fired a rocket downfield about 30 yards. That set up a touchdown that won the game. They beat perfection.

My point is that you DO have to learn the moves, but you have to learn how to adapt quickly in an open field. The other player will learn you, and that is fine, you have to learn how they’ve learned you. And then you find out what you want, you find the small leak, you compose yourself, and you throw. And perfection and the record books are soundly denied.

And that’s why I win at Guilty Gear sometimes, because it’s not about the system, it’s about finding that opening. There is no time for style, for the playbook. It is only a time for letting instinct and dexterity and to heaven or hell with the pattern. I like the moves I have. I don’t care for combos, or ultra super moves.

Tournaments have become the refuge of systems gamers because these are games and they do have high scores or a set speed, the master of which results in high wins. I can’t play Halo on Saturday nights because there are people who ALWAYS play Halo on Saturday nights, instead of having regular interests like girls, alcohol, and not being in your living room. Perfection is not for a video game. Discovery, inventiveness and cleverness, those are my gaming values, and it’s something that very good video games reward.

There is something to be said for rote memorization, and Guitar Hero sells millions. But in games of perfection, of excellence, being scrappy and direct is a bastard, and always will be. That’s enough for me.

Incidentally, I read this article and I think it is another good take on the game and talks about the differences in style. There is no right way to win. There is only your way.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/04/sports/football/04rhoden.html?hp