High Dynamic Range Lying

Much of life is filled with boring and tiring tasks. We spend the majority of our days at work or school, performing tasks for other people. When we return home, we do the same thing, whether it involves changing a lightbulb in the garage, going to the supermarket, or vacuuming the living room. That is probably why many of us play video games or have other hobbies. We use them as an escape from an otherwise painfully boring existence.

Even work can be a welcome change from boredom. Last month I was a day late on paying my internet bill for my apartment, and as a result lost internet access at home for three days this month. Without the internet, I was forced to spend my night doing other things. I decided that, instead of wasting my night away watching TV and replaying old games, I would clean my apartment, and empty my overflowing garbage.

While there`s no question the entire ordeal was fulfilling, it reminded me why my garbage can had been overflowing in the first place. Menial tasks are no fun, and I have a great habit of procrastinating on boring and menial tasks when they are not entirely pertinent to the situation.

This does not explain, on the other hand, why I find myself so addicted to the likes of Nintendogs and Brain Age. Nintendogs is essentially a dog sitting simulation, by Brain Age a collection of mathematics and reading exercises. Neither of those premises sound particularly exciting in the context of real life, but they not only make fun games, but they make addictive time wasters.

The concept of doing math problems being an addictive time waster is about as believable as developing a hobby around creating Excel spreadsheets. An addiction to any number of “non-games” has to be experienced to be understood, which is probably why many times the games are reviled by the hardcore gaming public at large. The concepts themselves sound boring and silly, and often times seem like a poor replacement for the regular fare of shooting nazis and slicing up zombies.

It is obvious that there is something hidden and secret about the appeal of any of these games. Traditional hardcore games need only explain their premise, and a list of its gameplay mechanics to entice gamers to pick them up. The gameplay often has no accessible real life equivalent, and many play upon the common male adolescent fantasies, such as heroism, power, and fame.

Some games do not play upon those themes, but are often so intrinsically inaccessible and strange, that it often puts off the casual player. Games like Rez and the upcoming PSN exclusive echochrome are both mostly abstract in presentation, and almost simplistic in design. In the case of Rez, its appeal lies in its uncanny art style and its synesthesic stranglehold on its sensory interaction with the player. Additionally, it has no accessible real world equivalent, and merely stating the game’s premise is enough to perk up a few ears.

It would be fair to say that a casual game would need to go that extra step to validate its existence as a game, considering its painful tie to a mundane real world counterpart. Perhaps its merely the insertion of a scoring method. Playing to humanity’s inherent competitive spirit goes a long way to making anything fun; even basic arithmetic.

Accessibility goes a long way to making a game successful. In the case of Nintendogs, the game provided a chance for players to raise, walk, and even enter dogs into shows, without the undesirable time investment. I myself felt quite silly playing Nintendogs in my own house in the US, while my two, very real Golden Retrievers went hungry and unloved. My feeling towards the game changed when I moved to Japan, and began to understand its pull far more.

Not only does the game offer a lot of reward with very little time investment, but it gives players the chance to play with their puppies anywhere they are. The game’s success makes an incredible amount of sense in the context of Japanese society. Despite space concerns and the impracticality of owning a mid-sized dog, Japan is dog-obsessed.

Perhaps that is the secret in casual gaming success. Its success lies in the same vein as more traditional games. Despite a far more down-to-earth or traditional grounding, casual games, much like their hardcore counterparts, offer success and achievement without gross investment and fatigue. Without the years of investment in attaining the knowledge, and without all of the negative portions of the experience, players are able to enjoy all the positives of a given activity, with a constant and almost immediate reward.

It isn’t rocket science, but it’s an interesting look into the success of casual gaming in the last two years. Their insurgence was sudden, and their effect is still being felt. Here in Japan, the games themselves still command the charts, and new titles are releasing every day. Some are merely helpful learning tools like dictionaries, but some do have legitimate entertainment value that many gamers are frankly not willing to acknowledge.

It really is a shame. The future is big enough for everyone to find something to obsess over.