There's no yoga in the jungle

A month ago Destiny came out. That's the reason I haven't posted any Ultra Street Fighter IV videos in a while. It's also the reason my Xbox Live Blanka ranking has plunged below 500th.

This match was my second against Diamond M2's Dhalsim. The first was a loss; he kept me zoned out with that long-range fierce punch all day. I learned from that loss that my priority should be to crowd Dhalsim as persistently as possible.

Round 1 was especially satisfying because I managed to hit him with a hop-Ultra I at the end. Since Blanka's charge-dependent Ultras can't be comboed into, any method of tricking the opponent into hitting a button at the wrong time is gold.

Japan's Monster Hunter honeymoon may be over

I've monitored (and participated in) Japan's love affair with Monster Hunter for most of the franchise's lifespan. From the series's ubiquitous handheld presence on Tokyo commuter trains, I've been conditioned to assume that nothing could break the spell that the "hunting action" phenomenon has woven over Japan's gaming public.

But history has taught us that, if anything is capable of souring gamers' opinions of Capcom, it's Capcom. More cynical fans of franchises like Street Fighter and Biohazard / Resident Evil have accused the publisher of squeezing money out of its customers by releasing streams of paid DLC and updating popular titles piecemeal, rather than putting an earnest effort into creating new games. Of course, Capcom isn't the only game company that does this, but its recent treatment of Street Fighter IV has been a particularly sore subject with some fans.

Now the public has turned a critical eye on Monster Hunter 4G, which came out last weekend (and which many are calling a small update to Monster Hunter 4, albeit for a ¥5800 ($54.45 US) price tag. Customer reviews on Amazon.co.jp have been brutal so far:

As of Friday afternoon (Japan time), the game's customer review average is only about 2.38 stars out of 5 (after 428 reviews, more than a third of which garnered a score of 1 out of 5 stars). This is in direct contrast to the previous 3DS title in the series, Monster Hunter 4, whose ratings bar graph looks like 4G's bar graph inverted.

Players cite a number of reasons for being dissatisfied, but a recurring theme in the reviews is the overblown difficulty level. Capcom often allows gamers to port player data from one MonHan game to the next, so that seasoned players don't have to feel like they're always starting over. But in order to challenge these players, the game apparently features quarry described by reviewers as too fast, too strong and cheap. Quests that in previous iterations were described as "challenging" have now become stressful, particularly when playing solo.

Many customers also express dissatisfaction with the amount of content. There is a consensus that the amount of value offered by MH4G deserves a price tag of about ¥1500, not ¥5800, and should have been marketed as a DLC expansion to MH4.

I'd offer my opinion but I'm not a professional game critic and the Amazon reviews have scared me enough to stop me spending my money on the game. And yes, Famitsu loved MH4G (giving it straight 9's in their Cross Review system for a total of 36 out of 40), but I haven't valued Famitsu's opinion for years, nor should anyone.

I repeat, Famitsu is garbage.

High-context culture: a true story

A "high-context culture" is one that tends toward inference and unspoken messages, as opposed to direct and literal verbal communication.

I was sitting on the Saikyo Line, heading home after work this evening. I was playing BlazBlue: Chrono Phantasma on my Vita (because fighting games on the Vita are the greatest gift to mankind since Prometheus brought mortals fire). Seated to my immediate left was an older gentleman (perhaps in his fifties) in a suit with a briefcase on his lap. Standing in front of the older gentleman was a younger suited man (perhaps in his thirties). Thirties was holding a handstrap his left hand, while holding an open beer in his right hand...and balancing an iPad in the crook of his right elbow.

My attention shifted nervously between my game and Thirties's beer, which I was sure he was going to drop while he fumbled with the iPad. My apprehension worsened after he dropped the iPad once, hitting my knee. It didn't hurt, but I was annoyed enough to wish at that moment that my knee had been hard enough to break the iPad's screen on impact.

Then it happened: While trying to put the iPad into his bag (which was on the rack above Fifties's head), Thirties managed to spray beer on both of us while everyone in the immediate vicinity looked on disapprovingly. A few drops landed on me, but the majority of the payload ended up on Fifties's briefcase. I dug through my bag and produced a package of tissues with my company's name on it and used one to wipe myself off. Then, in a brief moment of PR genius, I decided it would be nice to help Fifties out by giving him my company's pocket tissues, simultaneously creating an association between my company's name and the kindness of an unknown foreigner in his mind. I held the tissue pack out to Fifties, logo side up.

But Fifties refused my tissues with a single-handed "no, thank you" gesture. At first I thought he was just doing the polite refusal that is expected of Japanese people in all situations, but then I saw him regard Thirties with an expectant look and a nod toward his beer-streaked briefcase.

He was waiting for Thirties to clean up the mess he had made himself, which Thirties did in quick order before hurrying off the train at the next stop.

This entire episode happened without anyone uttering a single word. It was awesome.

Non-revelation

A lil' (that's how you type "little" when you want to come across as cute and colloquial) update for yas (that's how to you type "y'all" when you don't want to sound Texan):

Apparently the King of Fighters Angel cosplayer I shot at last autumn's Tokyo Game Show was none other than Nonsummerjack (Non for short), a professional cosplay model who is famous among people who would know who somebody like Nonsummerjack is.

This was brought to my attention by a reader who wishes to remain anonymous, probably because he doesn't want to be identified as someone who would know who somebody like Nonsummerjack is.

Yup, that's her all right.

I now have the unfortunate distinction of being able to identify a cosplayer by name. Not only does this drop me down to a new depth in the Abyss of Geek Misery, knowing her name means I can no longer rightfully greet her with the command, "POSE FOR ME, WOMAN."

If I see her at the next TGS, I'll say, "POSE FOR ME, 'NON' WOMAN."

Viva la Vita

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my gaming habits have undergone a shift away from console platforms toward handheld ones since the birth of my daughter. My Playstation Vita and 3DS, once merely distractions for my daily commute, have now become my preferred medium. Being able to play without tying up the TV, as well as play for short periods without having to sit through a console's lengthy startup, proves attractive for a new parent.

But since the release of the Vita, I've run across article after article calling Sony's current-generation handheld words like "embattled" and "struggling." Whether the blame is pinned on disinterested consumers, smartphones and tablets encroaching on the games market or a lack of third-party software support, the Vita has been branded as a lame horse in the US.

The concept didn't really hit home for me until I went shopping in Wisconsin last month, eager to find post-holiday deals on Vita games (which are particularly convenient by virtue of their lack of region coding). I visited two Target stores, both of which had the exact same selection of only six Vita titles in stock. Gamestop had similarly sparse pickings. And one Best Buy store I visited seemed to have scrapped their Vita section completely. It was as if retailers were under the impression that the Playstation 4 would somehow replace the Vita (which it won't, nor was it ever intended to).

Maybe I wouldn't have been so surprised at this, had I not spent the last decade in Japan, where the Vita is comparatively very healthy. Every electronics retailer carries a wide selection of titles -- and rightly so, because the Vita's Japanese library is much bigger than its American counterpart. In comparison to the barren desert that is the Vita scene in the US, in Japan it's like an oasis full of palm trees, free beer and bikini models. What ever the cause, it would appear that the Vita has seen very different days on either side of the Pacific.

Which brings me back to the question of what's causing the Vita's demise.

If the ever-increasing presence of mobile game developers at Tokyo Game Show is any indicator, then the aforementioned encroachment of smartphone and tablet games on the market is the primary culprit. And this is unhappy news for people like me, who prefer to play games on machines that were built for playing games. As fun as it is to kill five minutes with a few stages of Angry Birds on my iPhone, limiting my game library to titles that can be played with only touchscreen and accelerometer controls is not a bright picture of "the future of gaming."