Confession: I Once Thought Morrowind Sucked

Morrowind: Not exactly love at first sight.

With the recent release of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, I've been thinking back to the olden days of The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. I love The Elder Scrolls now. It's one of my favorite series for the sheer amount of things you can do. But years ago, I played Morrowind for the first time on the original Xbox.

And I hated it.

I was probably about 13 or 14 at the time. Most of my gaming experience had been with action, adventure and survival-horror titles. The first RPG I ever played was the amazing Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars. I adore that game. It set the bar for all other RPGs I played after it.

So, you can imagine the confusion I felt when I played Morrowind. I thought creating my own character was cool. I liked pilfering items from houses in the town where the game begins. But after that, I had no idea where to go. I wasn't big on listening to what people told me to do, or reading quest instructions in the journal, I guess.

By chance, I found my way to Balmora, the first major city of the game. When I arrived, I couldn't believe the  size of everything. Buildings were spread out as far as I could see. Where was I supposed to go? I finally checked my journal. It told me to visit some guy and join the Blades, I think. Well, that was nice to know. But where was this guy I was supposed to visit? Was I supposed to just wander around town until I found him?

The game basically forces you to explore everywhere. That freaked me out. I was so used to hand-holding and linear levels in games. Morrowind restricted nothing at all. If I wanted to leave the city right away and explore the world on foot, I could. I could also inadvertently enter some random person's house and accidentally kill a character central to the main storyline, thus requiring me to reload an old save or never beat the game. This happened, by the way. I lost about three hours of progress. It was awful.

Anyway, at first, I never found that guy or joined the Blades. I was so lost and confused that I left the safety of Balmora and headed into the wilderness with nothing but a crappy iron sword and some fur armor. I was very quickly killed by a persistent cliff racer, some pterodactyl-type bird that made a an annoying squawking noise to announce its presence.

That was enough for me. This game was just too much. I hated the openness and uncertainty. So, I regrettably returned it to the store.

Years later, I found Morrowind for sale for about $5 in a bookstore. At that point, I guess my gaming tastes had matured a bit. And so I gave it another shot. I'm so glad I did.

This time, the freedom amazed me. I fell in with the thieves guild almost immediately, and I loved picking locks and stealing stuff as I climbed the ranks to master thief. I joined the mages guild, where I promptly learned how to fry those cliff racers with fireballs. The fighter's guild taught me how to swing a sword. I traveled the land and became powerful and wealthy.

The lore and history within The Elder Scrolls series is so detailed, it almost seems real. I'd sit and spend hours reading the books scattered throughout Morrowind. I still do this now, in Skyrim.

In the end, Morrowind does indeed have its flaws. Glitches that can break the game, for example. Or a skewed level-up system. Nonetheless, I love it, and I always will.

Now I'm playing Skyrim, and its beauty astounds me. I know I'll be spending over 100 hours here, maybe more, simply exploring the world, doing quests, and chatting with the locals. I really owe this all to Morrowind. I hated it at first, but it changed the way I look at RPGs.

So, thank you, Morrowind. I promise I'll be back to visit again someday.

Bubsy: Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind

That grin never goes away.

Bubsy: Claws Encounters of the Furred Kind taught me so many things about life. Unlike most video games that give you a health meter of some kind and let you take a few hits before your untimely demise, Bubsy never disillusions kids about the consequences of their stupid actions. Bubsy teaches everyone that death by drowning, falling, or alien abduction is only a step away.

Bubsy is a bobcat, and he's apparently as hip as they come. Aliens have taken over the world, and he's on a noble quest to bash them and slaughter their queen. The instruction manual said that the aliens chose Earth for its abundant yarn supply. Why they needed the yarn, I've long since forgotten.

Bubsy may not be the best choice for an alien-fighting hero, though. This bobcat can only take a single hit from anything before he dies. If an alien blows its nose in Bubsy's general direction, he keels over as if he suddenly contracted swine flu. Touch a tack, and Bubsy deflates instantly. Dab a toe in the water, and Bubsy drowns.

Danger is everywhere, and Bubsy's only defense is jumping on foes. Unfortunately, if you don't jump on an alien just so, Bubsy dies because the game "thinks" the alien ran into you. Trust me when I say this game is not for the impatient or easily frustrated.

Before I played this game, I didn't know that bobcats could glide. Bubsy spreads his arms and legs when falling from great heights, allowing him to land softly and safely. Of course, you can never see what's too far below you. For all you know, you might be plummeting to your doom. It's fun floating down from the top of a roller coaster or tree until you glide right into a hole or bed of nails.

The music and graphics in the game are actually pretty good; it's just that Bubsy has no concept of fairness since everything can kill you. Lives are pretty hard to find, and if you lose them all (you will), you have to start the world you're in from the beginning. Of course, you can only do that if you bothered to write down the password after beating the last world's boss. And let's be honest; who does that?

As I mentioned earlier, Bubsy has a lot to teach people. Just look at him. Despite all the setbacks and fatal injuries he suffers, Bubsy always has a ridiculous grin plastered on his face. There's a cat who knows how to make lemonade out of lemons. If you made the mistake of buying Bubsy, you can use this game to teach kids how to be grateful for the awesome games they have today. At least you won't feel like you totally wasted your money.

Chuck Rock: Promoting Obesity

Isn't it funny how you don't see too many games about cavemen these days? I think Chuck Rock scared players so much that developers refused to make another caveman game again.

In Chuck Rock, you play as a half-naked, obese caveman who plays in a rock band with his wife and pet dinosaur. The game manual explains that Chuck's cave-neighbor gets jealous of his manliness and overall success at life, so he steals Chuck's wife for himself and runs away to the ends of the earth.

So, Chuck sets out on a journey to rescue her, naturally. This is the stone age, and the dinosaurs here are royally mad at you for being a human. Chuck's belly also looks like a honey-baked ham, so I'm sure that has something to do with their lust to kill him. Chuck's beer belly isn't just for looks, though. He actually uses it as a weapon to slaughter vicious velociraptors and sea monsters. Press the "Attack" button, and Chuck proudly thrusts his belly into the face of his victim as they die an agonizing, fat-smothered death. Chuck has no other attacks, but he can pick up boulders and throw them at dinosaur's heads. He can also use them as ladders and shields. I guess in a game called "Chuck Rock," I'd expect no less.

For a man as hefty as Chuck, it's surprising what can kill him. A tiny frog swam into Chuck in the water, and he died. From a frog attack. Baby birds can easily fell Chuck, too. Perhaps the worst enemy I encountered is the swooping pterodactyl. This thing "caws" at Chuck every half-second, and the caws sound like a prepubescent teen boy having a coughing fit. While I'm on the topic of sound, let's not forget Chuck's rally cry at the beginning of every level: "Unga Bunga!" Very insightful, yes?

Chuck's belly in action.

Your goal is to make it through all the levels, kill some bosses, and find your wife. Levels are all generic, including a prehistoric jungle, cave, swamp, and snowy mountain. Throughout the levels, you can pick up food to increase your score, but I never found a reason to. Maybe you get an extra life after ten million points. I picked up every chicken leg, hot dog, and ham hock I could find, and I got nothing. If you skip picking up any of these goodies, the game will last you about an hour.

I never finished Chuck Rock, but I know it all worked out okay for him in the end. That's because there is actually a sequel out there: Chuck Rock 2: Son of Chuck. So, either Chuck saved his wife and they had a kid, or Chuck gave up, went home, and found a new girlfriend (most likely).

Ape Escape: Awesomely Addictive

Catching monkeys never gets old.

I know this blog is supposed to be about crappy retro games, not good ones. But I've got to take a moment to recognize Ape Escape for its ingenuity and overall greatness. GameFly is all backed up right now, so despite the dozen or so new releases that I really want to play, I'm not getting much sent to me. As a result, I've picked up Ape Escape, an old-school original PlayStation platformer.

In the game, you smash monkeys in the face with a light saber and then capture them with your trusty net. It just doesn't get better than that. The story (as if you need one) explains that a brilliant professor created some gadget called the Peak Point Helmet. A monkey at the zoo, Specter, steals the helmet, puts it on, and subsequently becomes a genius. He then frees all the other monkeys at the zoo, and, using the professor's time machine, sends them to different eras to help him rewrite history and take over the world.

You play as a kid named Spike, and never a more accurate name have I seen. His hair is so spiky that the kid looks like a hedgehog. Spike works with the brilliant professor and his snotty granddaughter, Natalie, to recover all the monkeys that Specter released. Every so often, the professor gifts you with a new gadget to make catching monkeys easier.

One of my favorite gadgets is the RC car. I can't help running over monkeys with this toy car. Shooting them with exploding bullets from my slingshot is fun, too. Later in the game, you get the spring-loaded boxing glove, which knocks monkeys absolutely senseless. Mad at someone? Smack a monkey with a boxing glove. You'll feel better; I promise. Some of the monkeys dare to challenge me with their rocket launchers and grenades, but most of them either run away slowly or simply sit there, awaiting capture.

 You get to travel across time to catch these chimps, which, of course, I've always wanted to do. Your monkey-catching adventure starts in the age of the dinosaurs. You then travel through the Ice Age, ancient China, and Medieval times. I didn't pay any attention in history class, so this game was just what I needed to catch up on geography and stuff that happened millions of years ago. I feel smarter just for playing this game.

The voice acting is so terrible in Ape Escape, but I love it. Spike's mouth keeps moving long after he stops talking. His facial expressions, as well as those of his friends, are always priceless. Spike smiles when he's talking to his mortal enemy, Specter. Natalie always looks like she wants to murder Spike. She's always complaining, "Wait for me!" or "Get me out of this cage, you useless heifer!"  I've no idea what relation she is to him, sadly. She's either his sister or his girlfriend; I've guessed that much. The professor either has no mouth, or his round nose is so big that it blocks it from view. When he introduces a new gadget or era, he talks for at least 10 minutes. It sounds like an old dude reading a book aloud when the professor talks. I think I fell asleep once while listening to him talk about his latest gadget. He did invent the time machine, so I'll give the guy a break.

The graphics are pretty bad, but it just adds to the charm. You can really only see several feet in front of you, which sucks if you're trying to plan a surprise attack on a monkey. The monkeys basically consist of 10 polygons each, but you can tell that they're monkeys, so it's okay. The music rocks for such an old game. It always fits the historical era perfectly.

This is one of the first PlayStation games that required the DualShock analog controller. Yes, once upon a time, PlayStation controllers had no analog sticks. You moved your character with the directional buttons. It sucked, let me assure you. Ape Escape ushered in a PlayStation controller revolution. You use the left analog stick to move Spike, and the right one to use your selected gadget. The other buttons let you select the gadget you want to use. It's so intuitive, it almost makes me want to weep tears of joy.

I enjoyed Ape Escape, as you can tell, and I suggest you give it a try if you have the chance. It's a relic of the past, unfortunately. I got my copy at GameStop, but those idiots have since stopped selling PSone games. Your only source for monkey-catching awesomeness is probably eBay, but it's worth it.