Adrian's Stew: Vol. 1 Ed. 2
Written By: Adrian V.

Now I’d like to discuss something that has no bearing on your life whatsoever. That’s the beauty of writing...if you do it interestingly enough, you can talk about the dust on your TV for pages on end. Of course, many people forget about the ‘interesting’ part of that scenario, leaving us with endless rantings about topics with little entertainment value and even less relevance as they wander aimlessly through the caverns of their own minds on a journey inspired primarily by something so ponderous they usually forget what it was before completing the third sentence. But we’ll name names another time.

I’d like to talk about my Dreamcast games. I know, this is the Nintendo site, so I should stick with the subject matter at hand, and you’re right. Which is why I’ll always get the hot chicks. Because I’m willing to break the rules, which makes me dangerous. And as we all know, chicks dig guys who do stupid shit no one with enough braincells to regulate their pulse would try. That’s in the handbook. They tried to confuse us in the eighties with all the movies about egg-headed losers ending up with the girls, but as more than a few of those unwashed geeks discovered, this was simply not the way life works. Remember the abysmal Revenge of the Nerds 2 where Courtney-Thorne Smith hooks up with the head dork in the final scene? Have you actually seen her? If not, let me assure you that, if you’re reading this, she would never, ever date you. Ever.

Where the hell was I? Oh yes, my Dreamcast games. Because a mangled dissertation of various features and experiences encased in these plastic, disc shaped keys to the kingdom of Geek are obviously more engrossing than any discussion we could have about Courtney-Thorne Smith. Indeed.

I was trying to decide what game I should play tonight (since late Friday nights are really my only time to play a game for the sake of enjoyment) and I thought that I would give my stilted journeys through Banjo-Tooie and Zelda (no, I still haven’t beaten it... I have a religion to my Zelda playing which I will detail at another time) a rest for the week. I turned then to my Dreamcast, hoping to bask in it’s warm, off-white embrace for a fond recollection of the good times we’ve had that will come to an end far too soon.

So I took a look at my collection. I was in the mood for some plot, which means that they have to at least pretend there’s a reason for what I’m doing in the game. Worms: Armageddon doesn’t even bother. But do you really need a reason to blow up, shoot down, carpet bomb or frag grenade a group of oligochaeta? My various Street Fighter titles come a little closer, but the World Warriors have never really convinced me that the pleasure they experience from sinking their fists forcefully into someone else’s flesh is second to any other motivation for their unending tournament. Jedi Power Battles actually ranks among my more interesting story driven games, but only because when compared to the detestable Phantom Menace source material, even Bordello of Blood begins to look like Amistad. I agonized over the decision for a while, seesawing between Code Veronica and Sonic Adventure until I realized why I was so incapable of arousing my own...interest. There was no longer any reason for me to ever partake of a videogame for purposes of storyline ever again.

This is because I have played a title on my import DC that has forever satiated any desire I could ever have for plot development. Perhaps you too have been ensnared by the evil that is Berzerk, or the cleverly disguised American version, Sword of the Berzerk.

I picked this little number up because I had been a fan of the anime series for some time, and the opportunity to actually be the ultra badass Guts wielding his outrageously oversized sword was too good to pass up. Particularly since the scope of the show is so epic, so grand, so utterly staggering that 19 of the past 20 installments I have seen are simply background information bringing you up to speed on the situation presented in the first episode, and we’re still not caught up. That, my friends, is how you write a story.

Of course, what no one bothered to tell me was that the Dreamcast game was just another episode that gives you a handful of opportunities to chop up a few bad guys with the massive sword in an off-handed effort to justify the cash you drop on this ‘game’. The true nature of Berzerk turned out to be cut-scene after laborious cut-scene with the occasional taste of combat provided to make sure you’re still awake for the cut-scene waiting in the wings to introduce another plot twist paving the way for an even longer cut-scene designed to ensure that your synapses are so overloaded with dialogue and relationships that it can slip the next three cut-scenes in without your noticing. This process could have been a stroke of script-writing genius if it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t understand a single word of it. That’s because it was a Japanese game, in Japanese, with the original Japanese dialogue. An excellent addition to my growing Berzerk collection to be sure, but not a joyful romp through an action-filled anime universe.

I ended up dividing my Berzerk gaming into two parts. First, I decided to play through the game, skipping the story sequences. This took a total of twenty-three minutes. That wasn’t nearly enough time for me to formulate a second part to my gaming, so instead I watched Friends and Magnum P.I. and ate a pleasant dinner while I contemplated my next move.

This next move turned out to be a decidedly interesting choice. Assuming the definition of interesting includes ‘colossally overestimating the limits of your own patience.’ My big plan was to capture the on-screen dialogue with my handy tape recorder, go back through the most accurate sounding bits and attempt to piece together what I could and write the results down. Then, I intended to translate these results with the many dictionaries and language programs I own and use for the sole purpose of placing them in conspicuous places so that guests believe me to be a worldly, self-educated individual of many talents. These conspicuous locations are all conveniently underneath the incredibly large shelf displaying countless Star Wars and Batman toys, which seems to be about as far as most people get in their assessment of my household before making judgments about my character. I assume, anyway, since everyone still buys me coloring and activity books on major holidays, and I have been of legal drinking age for quite some time.

Meanwhile, back at the translation department, I had made serious headway. With at least three sentences pieced together, I was beginning to understand why the large man with his head in a sack was so silent and the reason for the sudden attack by bandits upon his friends. It went something like this:

Large Man: *Silence*

Young Girl: ‘I for you go cheese to cradle push.’

Large Man: *Silence*

Attacking Horde: ‘We take profound osteopathic surgeon crush like jelly!’

Young Girl: ‘I never you see mouse pulsating sponge deception! Yeaaah!’

That was the result of thirty-nine minutes of effort, leaving me, in the end, with just over an hour’s worth of wasted time to ponder while crushing the disc into something close to a million pieces with my trusty ten-pound sledge. There was much rejoicing.

After that, I came to a few realizations. One; I need to stop purchasing import games. Two; plot is a highly overrated feature, and three; Japanese gamers are chumps.

Tune in next time when I discover that George Lucas is the devil, and all Nintendo64 games, if played in the proper order, unlock his unholy plans for the destruction of the world and the part you can play in it.

End of line.