Stay PermaFrosty

I’ve been growing a little tired of the games I’ve been playing lately. I listlessly snipe my way through Mass Effect 2. I replay Limbo for the millionth time, toying with a speed run. I beat Gabby Jay to a pulp in Super Punch Out. Virtual life feels flaccid and empty. I need to toughen up. I need to put on Eye of the Tiger and clench my jaw.

I have a plan. As I’ve talked about before, I’m an admirer of Ben Abraham’s PermaDeath playing of Far Cry 2. That is, you play until you die once, and then you stop playing. I like the ambition there, and the quest to bring new meaning to old play. The thing about Mr. Abraham, though, is that it sounds like he’s pretty good at the game. Sounds like he’s got all kinds of know-how, and quite a lot of can-do to go along with it.

Me? I’ve played an amount of Far Cry 2 before, but I’m essentially quite, quite bad at first-person shooters generally, really bad at first-person shooters on a console, and especially bad at the “this is some realistic shit right here” style of Far Cry 2. Which is why I’m going to jump into a PermaDeath playing of the game myself. It’s like if I, on hearing about how awesome Neil Armstrong was for walking on the moon, started building a cardboard rocket doused in kerosene to repeat the feat. Lighter at the ready? Let’s go.

My base-line prediction is that I’ll die real, real early on, but I’ll attempt to stave off death in as best I can. Techniques like running away, avoiding actually doing any missions, and sitting around in local bars rather than fight figure to be quite high on my list. I’ll try to do it in character as much as I can, but I suspect my avatar will need a slight character overhaul. Maybe the malaria he gets at the beginning of the game gives him an enlarged fear centre and chisels away his Big Bad Man Gland into a tiny, useless nub, for instance. Believable, right? (I’m available for game scripting work, by the way.)

Anyway, that’s my current plan to resurrect interest in games during this down time. I’ll report back after the first session is done with my tales of cowardice and woe. Please don’t be surprised if I die within my first sit-down with the game. If I do, that’s it, show’s over. This is PermaDeath after all, and Ben Abraham and I aren’t dicking around. Well, I guess I kind of am, but I’m doing it with a very serious look on my face.

Even now I can hear the game’s DVD calling to me, taunting me like I’m the new guy in jail. It’s saying, “You’re mine.” It’s saying, “I own you.” Yes, yes you do. You will.

16 November 2010
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