This is an interesting little mind fuck, good for playing late at night, after having been up for about 48 hours.

Before I go on with what may seem like a glowing review, I should put up some qualifiers (beyond the fact that I played it in the aforementioned condition.)

This game was pointed out to me by one of my ex's… To which I had to say, "You have Steam!?" - to which she said, "I bought the Orange Box to get Portal… And everything else in it BOMBED." …I feel compelled to also mention that I trust said ex, when it comes to this sort of thing, about as far as I can throw her. I should add the additional qualifier to that, however, that like nearly all of my ex's, I can throw her a fair distance, for I am fearful of any woman more than half my size, and thus tend to date very small women.

This is, sort of the "ungame" of FPS. It's not really a game at all, so much as it is a psychological tour, that has you wandering (unarmed and un-HEV'd), on a lovely deserted island, that seems to be, in fact, a manifestation of the protagonist's own consciousness - or a self-created purgatory - depending on which way the story unfolds and upon your personal interpretation. All in all a very interesting game-play concept, again, if one can stretch the definition of "game" to encompass it.

The story unravels with nearly painful slowness, however. I must admit, I found myself setting sv_cheats to 1, and noclip'ing around a bit. I actually *suggest* playing this way, but keep the no-clipping to a minimum, as you'll likely fly through dialogue and randomization triggers and these are absolutely critical to the storytelling process.

Once you reach the underground, the game picks up pace, at which point I highly suggest turning the no-clipping off, not simply because you may miss stuff, but also due to the fact you may noclip your way into an abrupt death and be forced to start the whole process over.

Immersion is everything this story has to offer - so soak it in. Turn off the lights, and just ride with it.

Supposedly the story randomly generates itself, right down to the dialogue you'll hear, and what you'll see scrawled on the walls. I've not yet verified this, as I've not yet felt the need to take this particular acid trip again thus far. I none-the-less keep it around should I be alone and inebriated enough to experience it again - it was just that interesting and different. Indeed, enough of our Jiggly regulars seem to imbibe controlled substances, that I'd have to recommend this game, or psychological journey, if you'd rather call it that, specifically to them.

There are some minor issues with the game. The maps are not player-clipped well. You can easily wander into areas you simply are not meant to be in - so if you start seeing the back-side of the façade, turn the f*ck around, or you'll lose the immersion - the one thing it has to offer. Ye may also wish to turn down the music to make sure you don't miss any of the very well done, extremely immersive narration.

It's a very interesting concept from a game-design point of view. It's indeed, absolutely unique, so far as I know. It opens up some new possibilities for storytelling that may have otherwise gone untapped if not for the "out of the box" thinking from the folks at the Chinese Room. It's not for everyone. It's certainly not a shooter, or anything else you might expect from an HL2 mod. It is, however, an interesting and unique little journey that I recommend taking at least once, provided your head is clear enough, or cloudy enough, to be patient, and in the mood to take in this bit of romantic avant-garde art.

http://www.moddb.com/mods/dear-esther
I suggest watching the somewhat choppy movie at the link, so you've some idea of what you are delving into, though it may present a spoiler or two.
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"At night, you can sometimes see the lights from a passing tanker or trawler. From up on the cliffs they are mundane, but down here, they fugue into ambiguity. For instance, I cannot regularly tell if they belong above or below the waves. The distinction now seems banal: why not everything and all at once? There's nothing better to do here than indulge in contradictions, whilst waiting for the fabric of life to unravel." - Dear Esther
Thothie

Dear mastha, you always come with something amazing... Since my english suck major balls, I'm glad they pulled out the storyline in a pdf...

I'm gonna resend that link to some of my poetic-fag friends as well... I love ya. Thanks.

i think its poetryfag, but nice

no wai

I had you pegged as gay...

I'm sad now

As I always say, I'm a fat Asian lesbian trapped inside a skinny white boy's body. So I'm *technically* gay, I just may not be swinging in your desired direction.

…I really need to stop saying such mean things about Margaret Cho… >_>

PS. Happy Amer-Indian Extermination Day!
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"I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land." - John Stewart
Thothie

i've always indentified as a male-bodied lesbian too, lol. although at that point we're just assigning whatever labels we feel like it to our otherwise unleashed pansexuality, so whatever.

God, I wish that were true. I live about 15 minutes from a rez. If you've never been near one you should feel lucky.

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"I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land." - John Stewart
Thothie[/quote]

Meh, spent some summers next to one in Arizona for awhile, never had any real trouble with em. (Maybe cuz they were too hot to move...) - I've some buddies that live up by the 222, and they never have any trouble with their Injuns either. I think, however, neither of those tribes have casinos - that maybe where the trouble starts.
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"When the white man discovered this country Indians were running it. No taxes, no debt, women did all the work. White man thought he could improve on a system like this." - Old Cherokee Saying
Thothie

Yeah, up here in MN (where all tribes have casinos by default) it's pretty bad.

Had a friend in HS beat into a 6mo coma by a gang of drunk indians. Nothing was ever done to them because if you don't catch them doing something while off the rez the police can't go in after them. Most of the local robberies and the like are by natives.

This sounds super racist, but I know exactly what you're talking about.

I used to live near a reservation and stuff similar to this (but not quite as bad) would go on all the time. A little kid would come up and punch you in the balls and stand there and stare at you, and his 3 or 4 older brothers would stand around near the car and watch you intently to see what you'd do.

It's stupid that they don't live under the same laws as we do. I used to deliver pizzas in that same area, and whenever I had a delivery out there I was just happy to get out without getting shot, much less a tip.

--Locane

I suppose it's equally racist is to feel empathy for folks who react with anger to the world for the injustices done to their ancestors. It's not much different with the Blacks than it is with the Amer-Indians; there has to be a certain taint, in ones mind, that goes with being raised with and constantly engrained by that horrific history. To know that the poverty you see around you, that the drained husk of your community, had the blood pulled from it to create the richer nation that surrounds it, be its remains ghetto or reservation, and to know that said nation holds no gratitude for that blood. You have to have a great deal of respect for those who have the incredible self control to not lash out at all around them, even when it comes in the form of simple submission, and must at least hold some pity, for all the multitude that fail that test of forgiveness. (Save when they are driving off with your car...)

Still, it'd be nice if all these poor folk would realize that this sort of attitude only serves to cement their downfall to where, to an increasing degree, their decrepitude is as much at their own, living, hands as it of those of our long dead. But I doubt any of this is part of the conscious thought, so much as an underlying current of boiling blood.

In the case of the reservations, the ambiguity of the law is a double edged sword though. I've heard of instances where native Americans would be raped, off reservation, and be unable to press charges because of their residence status, or unable to seek protection from protagonists on the reservation. Sadly, these reservations never became the human zoos, the preservations for the native's way of life, that we had originally intended them to be - not that they were ever grandiose enough to sustain such an absurd existence - and now their meaning is very cloudy indeed.
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"Howard Hughes devised the support bra based on the American Indian practice of tying someone spread eagle between two trees." - Rasputina
Thothie

Frankly, I'm fed up with paying for sins my ancestors committed. Really. Black people complain about racism and it's like "Hello, if you didn't make such a big deal out of it maybe there wouldn't be so much racism!" Why are we still calling attention to the fact that we screwed up?

Yeah, we know. Sorry. How many times do you want us to say it? How much do *I* have to apologize for something I didn't even do? Join the rat race like the rest of us, and try to get ahead in the miserable thing that we call American Life.

Like I said, I agree… Excepting that I don't see how you can grow up in the ghetto, or a reservation, and not have that resentment. Ye might grow out of it (a lot of folks do), but I figure there at least has to be some "hatred of society" stage for most folks. I mean, hell, I'm whiter than 99.9% of the populous, and even I hold an unhealthy resentment for the system - and I don't have that excuse to ride on.

The only black folks I've known well have all been Oreos, and I suppose I could say the same of the two Amer-Indian's I knew, if not for the fact that their culture has been dashed to the winds to such a degree that I don't think there's much in the way of any other kind. They all adjusted fine, because they all grew up in fairly well-to-do neighborhoods. I'm sure the resentment is there on some level, but not to the point where they perceive every attack on poor people as an effort to exterminate their race, as they aren't really a part of that culture.

Suffice to say, if our situations were reversed, I'm sure we white folks would be just as nasty. There's some sad evidence to support that in Kosovo and some of the former eastern block countries, where a sliver of difference between white on white races leads to oppression, poverty, and reactionary violence, that looks all too familiar.

Could be worse though - we could all be surrounded by pink wood panels!
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"You were born an original. Don't die a copy." - John Mason
Thothie

I'm still holding out hope that the human race as a whole will get smarter and hopefully (eventually) learn to deal with extreme and irrational emotion in such a way that doesn't lead to violence and prejudice against a group of people for some stupid reason like their faith or their skin color.

Also, thread *totally* hijacked.

A buddy of mine published a good book on the subject

Pigments on the Imagination