Boss

Do do do do do dodododododo, do do do do do dododododooo…Now this musical notation really doesn’t need clarifying, considering that its glaringly apparent that this musical composition converted from it original audio, is Sonic the Hedgehog’s antagonistic parable (Dr Robotnik’s) theme music. Altering the exuberant tones that accompany your accelerated endeavours to more urgent intonation, and even after adolescence has absconded me, coercing me into reluctant maturity (well, older anyway) this piece of scoring is still distinctive as well as abiding encapsulation of my absent youth. Though the variable encounters that you engage with this questionable physician are as onerous as a scuffle with candy floss, it is lamentable to think that such vivid boss battles have become somewhat moderated, diminished by the advent of multi-player or if not completely relegated. The latent catharsis is so apparent in modern games that its difficult to differentiate between one ambivalent, mutated creature and another repellent engineered mutation augmented by a dilatory, shady corporation with clear apathetic ethics. The glaring abstinence of villainy has only been compounded by the swelled infirmity of developer creativity.

“Captain Birdseye’s original vocation before fish fingers.”

During MGS3: Snake Eater for your confronted by many gregarious oppositions with varying conceptual eccentricity, composed of individuals such as “The Pain” who largely spent his time propelling projectile hornets at my crutch (probably), a former cosmonaut known as “The Fury” that spews incendiary retardants with flame-thrower while elevated by combustible jet pack, and The Sorrow, who though technically dead can still kill you. But the boss that is most visceral in my mind is the sniper extraordinaire referred to as “The End”. Which is ironic considering that this battle (loosely termed) never ended! You were required to identify the location of a surprisingly nimble geriatric, camouflaged amongst the dense foliage that required passive mobility to avoid detection from his remarkably precise reticles. Hours were emaciated tracking him to various environments across a linear, though vapid environments, culminating in a number of indolent manoeuvres and vocally expressive retorts.“You sneaky son of a gun. I’ll get you next time (paraphrased statement).” At one stage I became so ingrained in my environment that we spent 10 mins lying parallel, innocuous to one another’s stationary presence despite the close approximation of our adjacent equivalent’s, before I crawled surreptitiously into Captain Birdseye’s sniper barrel. The misery of being repressed by a boss that spent the majority of his time preserving what little vitality he had left by sleeping is humiliating enough, but the most disconcerting thing was that this entire protraction could have been averted if I had simply dismissed nobility, by shooting him while he was slumped defensively in his wheel-chair earlier on in the game.

“Run from the pixels Claire! RUN!”

The Tyrant in Resident Evil 2 still evokes anxiety too, with his almost harmonic, synchronised steps that reverberated throughout the dilapidated corridors in Raccoon City Police Department. With the clattering of wood that heaved under the excessive force of his gargantuan frame indicating his nomadic return. Though his massive frame prevented much urgency in his mobility, this giant, follicle infirm vagrant with cumbersome pace, still strode with menacing pace that always appeared to catch you up. It was his perpetual presence, his motivated penchant for your death that made every pious step excruciating. The DMC series has often revelled in the eccentricity of its extenuate portrayal of mythical beasts and demonic spawns, secreted from the depths of hell with intriguing abstract depictions, they also required collating tactical awareness. You had to parry at the exact moment, cultivating your moves with minimalistic button prompts as simply squeezing the attack button wasn’t enough. Patience wasn’t just a virtue but vital to succession as much of your time was expelled utilising cover and dodging projectiles rather than extruding aggression. But sadly even this series has pandered to some nonchalance of sterility.

“If a tumour had a penis, it would look like this.”

Now we are presented with enemies that resemble a pulsating phallic with an angry tumour attached! Or an angry demonic bald man who diminishes as a prospective bogeyman, as without rhyme or prior exposition mutates into a generic giant, composed of concentrated tarmac and metal. Why?! But that’s the problem; nonsensical boss’s that pander to the conventions of simple extraction of weak points; dodge a few wayward, choreographed moves that are easy to interpret and counter with sardonic exclamations of your exuded captivation “Ooh isn’t this exciting!” This may not necessarily apply to all current games, but there is an endemic nuance on aesthetically pleasing abominations, with grittier, bigger and with more grr presentations! That are shallow, simplistic are most notably, forgettable.

Let me know what your favourite boss fight is, and are boss fights really relevant now? Cheers.

The naivety and borderline stupidity associated with infancy is something that I empathise with strongly, often with a pedantry for ascertaining solutions to simple equations through vague, suggestible deductions. I have always been ignorantly inclined to abide to my cerebral idiocy, with the severity of lapses in concentration perpetuated by my own, preconceived understandings and impetuous actions that reverberate through my vacant cranial cavity, which illicit exuberant jovial relief for my peers, with one instance that rigidly encapsulates this nurtured contempt for knowledge. In school–a time of incredible academic achievement–during a lesson of food technology, I was endeavouring to prepare a succulent banquet of such exquisite nourishment, that Moses deliberately omitted the recipe from the scriptures of the original “12” commandments, due to his clairvoyance indicating that the preservation of humanity would one day require this voluptuous recipe. Though in his haste to preserve its contents for future human consumption, he inadvertently etched out the twelfth commandant; “Thou shalt not watch and enjoy Michel Bay movies”. So powerful was its contents that even men would begin ovulating from the mere aroma of the decadent concoction, but of course this ambiguous meal must remain latent for fear of falling in to the hands of unscrupulous malcontent’s (In other words I’ve completely forgotten what the food was). But I digress…

“OK, check the map again. Because I’m sure this isn’t Disneyland!”

Preparations for the specified creation required me to dissect an onion into more manageable pieces, but in my verdant pursuit for gourmet perfection, I was less than Michelin star. While demonstrating how to cut the perpetrated vegetable to a curious student, blissfully unaware of my inept aptness with knife, I began my incision thusly; by proceeding to slice into the onion with the blunt side of the implement. Carving vigorously with my index finger firmly perched on the conversely splintered edge for more purchased durability, bemused by its lack of penetration. Though you’d think that such a sharp implement burrowing so penetratively into my appendage would elicit some form of retaliation, its sharp, though ethereal indentations failed to register with any cognitive empathy. That was until trickles of claret began to moisten the still liberated shalot revealing my misguided implementation. Suffice to say that I cut through more layers of my own flesh than I did the resistant bulb, and very few of my fellow pupils sampled my less than palatable results, made by my literal culinary “fingers”. “Hm? I’m getting sage, coriander with a distinct infusing of saffron, with a hint of…what is that? (licks fingers) yes, yes a hint of haemoglobin”. There has been a similar degree of familiarity with that incident that resonates profoundly with many of my gaming experiences.

“Fighting a giant, mystical tentacle? Then there’s only one thing to do…RUN!”

During Dragons Dogma for instance, one seemingly impenetrable enemy, with disciplined antagonism funnelled through its viscous, mystical tentacles with devastating mandibles that restrict mobility left me reeling in erratic . But it wasn’t it’s volatile flailing that made this faceless creature so formidable, but the sheer volume of tendrils that wrap with all the constrictive velocity of a reclusive grandmothers, affectionate hug. After precarious maintenance of my allies resources, motility and fleeting mortality, more of these grotesque deformities began protruding through, filtering perennially through cracks in the surface before my assembled companions, as well as myself met with the same fatalities. It took me half an hour to deduce that the only available option against such persistent enemy was to abandon my company, jostling past them with cowardly intent and run like hell! Why a game would emphasis such craven recourse is beyond me, but accosting extensive time for such a simple solution is needlessly pedantic. A more recent “onion” inspired incident that further laments my incompetence, was during “The Last Of Us”. After assisting my companion by retrieving a fallen ladder from an incline that could be used as a makeshift, lateral crossing, I became trapped into a seemingly impenetrable room. After 10 mins of dubious deliberation I finally discovered a crevice from which to escape. Now let me just literate and clarify that this was not a spatially grand environment, nor was the aforementioned crevice indistinguishable from the dilapidated environment. It was placed directly in full view!

My complacent, cognitive desertion is often guided by my spontaneity and a haste, leaving me nursing my moistened brow, which is now firmly clasped in my protective palm, as I begin peering incredulously through my fingers contemplating how I missed such a simple route. People often suggest that modern games are too obvious, too forthright in its assertions by gently grasping the players anxious, perspiring hand and guiding them to the appropriate destination with minimum of dedicated directives. But I would deride further satisfaction from reduced necessity on utilising my mental capacity. That and a steel thimble for my finger to avoid future, vegetable based embarrassment.

Have you ever been duped by a games simplicity? Let me know of your experiences. Cheers.