Want so many achievables? They’re yours! As long as you earn them, that is. Z0MB1ES (on teh ph0ne) has unlockable achievements and online leaderboards so you can compete with your friends (which you will have tons of once you get this game).

Z0MB1ES!!1 (on teh ph0ne) is coming later this year. We’ll let you know when we know. You know? Knowledge!

Check out this gallery!

But thing are moving along pretty well, albeit a little delayed (I think I’m 2 weeks off schedule currently, but who’s counting?)

One interesting little bit of fun is localization.  The Dishwasher is coming out in English, French, Italian, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese, and Chinese.  Since I drew my own font, I had to add all sorts of special characters to the graphic.  For Japanese and Chinese I had to change the way the game handled fonts so that it could draw some using my font and others using a SpriteFont (the alternative would be hand drawing a couple thousand Asian glyphs).  It took a couple of days to get everything working right with all of that, but the big hassle comes with adding changes.

A lot of bugs that roll in look a bit like “The game quits a multiplayer game with the message ‘you have signed out’ but should show the message ‘you have been disconnected from LIVE,’” or something to that effect.  So, for bugs where the message that shouln’t be displayed hasn’t been added to the game’s text resources, that means I have to:

• Add the line of text to the text resources
• Send the latest text resources file to the various localization people
• Get the localized resource back from the loc people (usually there are 3 handbacks per update)
• Put the updated text resources back in the game

Not too bad, not too unexpected, but when you’ve got bugs showing up every other day to this effect, it starts to feel a bit crazy with all the back and forth.  Gone are the days when I can just add a bit of text here and there with no repercussions!  It’s weird–these are the things you just don’t think about before you get into it.

I added a practice room.  It’s not too exciting; it’s just a way for you to see what the game thinks of what buttons you’re pressing.  I got the idea from Marvel Vs. Capcom.  (This means that the text “Practice Mode” must be put in the text resources, sent off, localized in 7 different languages, sent back, and incorporated–see what I mean?)

I also added support for the Hori Arcade Fighting Stick.  I’m not sure how in love I am with this thing (had to order one), but mashing buttons is fun.  I guess I’m so used to the original Dishwasher control scheme that having to switch over to something that feels so differently is a bit frustrating–in fact, it felt a lot like trying to dominate in Marvel vs Capcom in arcades after mastering it on PSOne!

Anyway, it feels like I’m getting toward the home stretch.  I don’t mean to sound jaded or anything–I’m still having a blast working on all this, even when there’s drudgery involved (I’ve been a student and an office worker, and XBLA-related drudgery simply can’t compare to other types of drudgery out there!)

Also, expect a deluge of themes and gamerpics!  I’ve got 2 themes running on my dev kits and they look pretty slick.  I’m hoping to do one for free and one for …not free.  The free one is good, the not free one is [IMHO] better.  I’m not still entirely convinced people buy themes, but if they do, I think they’ll be impressed.  The gamerpics are cool too.

Ok, back to work for me!

Such gems include:

“$15 for 5 hours of single player?”

“I could get [insert old game name here] for $5 less at Gamestop!”

“If it were $10, I’d pay, but at $15 it’s just too much.”

Probably my first reaction should be to not listen to anything morons say online.

However, assuming I failed to do the first part, here’s my second reaction:

Maybe I’m old.  Maybe I’m old fashioned.  However, I distinctly remember growing up with NES, where games like Contra debuted with price tags of about $100 when adjusted for inflation.  Yes, Contra is classic.  However, if you bought it, brought it home, sat down and gave it a shot, you would probably make it to level 2 and die.  You could retry a bit, maybe make it to 3, possibly 4, probably not 5, and certainly not 6.  What’s the play-through time there?  You could probably beat the game in an hour with the 60 life code.  That’s an hour for $100–no character building, no online play, no DLC, and no minigames.

I’m not saying we should be satisfied with Contra.  But look how far we’ve come!  We’ve gone from paying $100 for a game that is repeatedly outshined by free Flash games to paying $15 for games with art design that would make our 1980′s-era selves drool, rich gameplay, online multiplayer, and tons and tons of bells and whistles upon that–yet for some that’s $5 too expensive?

We shouldn’t need to be satisfied with Contra, but boy, have we got spoiled.

I would like to address the “I could buy [game name] used at Gamestop for $5 cheaper” argument specifically: sure, you could buy Perfect Dark Zero at Gamestop for $10 (probably $5 even), but here’s the thing: Perfect Dark Zero is not Castle Crashers. If you want to play Castle Crashers, you have to buy Castle Crashers, and the price happens to be $15.  If you wanted to play PDZ (and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to do that these days), you can find yourself a nice used copy at Gamestop.  You’ll get your 10 hours of gameplay, rather than that paltry 5 you would have got in the horrendously overpriced Castle Crashers, but those will be 10 hours of your life spent playing Perfect Dark Zero, which, as far as I can tell, is not something to brag about.

I don’t really think it’s about cost anymore.  When you contrast the value of the dollar between today’s gaming industry and that of 20 years ago, there’s just no comparison–videogames are pretty much free.  The question becomes not “how do you want to spend your money,” but “how do you want to spend your time?”

I have to wonder how “marketing” efforts from 100 years ago would have stood up to today’s. People made things they thought people would like, they marketed them in ways they thought would appeal, and everyone went on their merry way. Today, we have focus groups, market research, and all sorts of other data aimed squarely at allowing us to craft the most precise, effective marketing campaigns ever. Market research is an iterative process–each generation of marketing is more effective than the previous. But wait–this isn’t an anti-capitalist rant! It’s an anti-people rant. Bear with me…

Given the choice between instant and deferred gratification, people always lean toward the former. Broccoli will make you full and healthier in the long run, but deep fried chicken parts taste better, even if they will make you fat and disgusting. Guess what McDonald’s serves?

I often joke about creating the ultimate snack. I’d call it Buttersalt Cheesy Chips. There would be numerous flavors–you would never find Original Recipe Buttersalt Cheesy Chips. Store shelves would be stocked with Nacho Taco Buttersalt Cheesy Chips, Creamy Ranch Butter Salt Cheesy Chips, Blue Cheese Pizza Buttersalt Cheesy Chips, and so on. They would be the brightest, greasiest, most disgusting chips ever, and I think they’d sell like mad, because given the amount of time it will take to get the product to market, America will have graduated another generation of focus group-induced fattening, and be totally ready for my brand new heart attack in a bag.

I get frustrated by game reviews because I get the sense that reviewers are really just looking for more Buttersalt Cheesy Chips in videogame form. I kind of feel for the guys–you can’t really hope for any deferred gratification when you’ve got deadlines, a stack of games to review, and a fast fading attention span. Still, reviewers adore Buttersalt Cheesy Chips moments, so savvy developers are keen to deliver. Set pieces make great Buttersalt Cheesy Chips–great at first, but no lasting game play value.

This isn’t to say that big games have no game play–it’s usually quite the contrary. But when more focus is placed on the Buttersalt Cheesy Chips aspects of the game than the Broccoli and Rice aspects, you end up feeling empty inside with a bit of heartburn.

Going back to that Oblivion: it is, quite contrary to the title of this post, a Broccoli and Rice game.

The camera is absolutely paramount to setting the mood and feel of the game. When Devil May Cry first came out, a lot of reviewers didn’t like how the claustrophobic camera affected game play. They liked the mood and feel set by the camera, but didn’t like that you would sometimes get attacked by enemies out of screen. So Devil May Cry 2 was created, headed up by a former game reviewer, and guess what? The claustrophobic camera was gone, the claustrophobic sets were gone; the world was big, there were no more out-of-camera attacks, and people hated it. People missed the feel from the first one. They wanted tight corridors, crowded battles; they may even have been willing to turn a blind eye at the next out-of-camera attack, sacrificing that bit of unfair damage in the name of love of game design.

Ninja Gaiden 2 is a game that is meant to be beyond intense. When you pull the camera back, a la God of War/Heavenly Sword, you rob a bit of intensity from the feel of the game, and it leaves you with a choice: do you want to play a high-intensity game with an aggressive camera that sometimes leaves you feeling a little cheated, or do you want to play a medium-intensity game with a pulled back camera that shows you everything yet somehow lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

The camera is a design decision to evoke a certain mood. The game designer decides on the mood. To me, it’s almost as if game reviewers are looking at the game, saying “I didn’t like it because it’s not God of War,” and docking it 10-15 points for not being God of War. “I didn’t like Call of Duty 4 because it doesn’t have a cover system” is an equally valid complaint; I wonder why no one’s brought that up?

I think the core of the issue is that game reviewers have to really scramble to complete all of the new titles that land on their desk from week to week, preventing them from really soaking in the nuance and subtlety. Ninja Gaiden fanboys understand that the camera must add to the frenetic pace and, yes, be a little obnoxious at times, and that through time and patience it will become a necessary evil. Personally, I’m used to making mental notes as to where the out-of-camera baddies are and attacking what I cannot see–it makes me feel like a ninja. Reviewers, playing through the game at the easiest setting, simply jot down their first impressions: some dude from outside the camera killed me and now I’m pissed off.

I think the solution is a fanboy-only review site. Ninja Gaiden 2 reviewed by Ninja Gaiden fanboys, DMC4 reviewed by Devil May Cry fanboys, and so on.