Pokémaniacal

Makin' Movies

Sat, 25 May 2013 05:29:07 +1200

I am currently being drowned in a flood of undergraduate Greek history essays, which is why I’m not rambling about Pokémon at the moment. Can I not take time out of marking my clueless students’ misshapen diatribes against history, you may ask? Is not my Pokémon blog more important than this?

Well, sort of. The trouble is that I’m already taking time out of marking essays so I can make pizza muffins at five o’clock in the morning.

This is because I am participating in a short film competition.

You understand now that I am not merely affecting insanity when I write about Pokémon on the internet. This is actually what my life is like.

Perhaps I should explain some of the context involved here.

Every year, myself and a group of friends, under the command of one of my high school friends who’s trying to make a name for himself as a director, participate in a skin-flayingly painful event euphemistically known as 48 Hours Furious Filmmaking. The premise is really quite simple: make a short film of 7 minutes or less, within 48 hours (beginning at 7pm last night). To ensure that everything really does happen within 48 hours, all teams in the country must use certain elements (a character, a prop, a line of dialogue, and a camera technique) revealed at the beginning of the competition, and each team is individually assigned one of ten film genres. This year, every film must feature an insomniac named Vic Mayor (the names are always appropriate for either a male or a female character - in this case, Vic could be short for either Victor or Victoria), a card (a playing card, a credit card, a birthday card, whatevs), the line “did you hear that?” and… some camera technique I’ve forgotten because I don’t know a thing about camera techniques anyway. My team has been assigned the “action adventure” genre.

None of this explains why I am making pizza muffins at five o’clock in the morning.

Although I normally do contribute something to the scriptwriting process, I have for some years now had a rather different role on our team. Every team needs food to survive, and I happen to be a damn fine baker. My pies and Cornish pasties have long been famous in our group, and every year on the Saturday of the competition I work hard all morning to bring our film crew a good solid lunch, then get back to the kitchen to start work on dinner. Now, ordinarily I would have prepared my pie fillings in advance of the competition, to keep my workload manageable, but this year I have not been able to do this, due to the aforementioned torrent of undergraduate essays. Thus, I stayed up all Friday night preparing them instead. I also, as is my custom, submitted an idea for a script. In nine years of competition I have never actually managed to write a script that has caught our director’s fancy. This year (again, as is customary) my idea was good, but another was chosen to be taken to the development and writing stage. I returned to my kitchen to get on with my real job.

However, at quarter to eleven, I received a rather panicked text message from the director, indicating that perhaps it might be useful to have a backup script.

By two o’clock, it had become clear that my backup script was, in fact, likely to be the primary script. I dutifully continued working.

By four o’clock, my work was complete. At this point, though, I reasoned that trying to sleep would just make me feel more tired and cranky when I had to get up again in a few short hours. So I decided it would be a better idea just to keep cooking, hence the pizza muffins. I believe my mind has become host to Dark Forces from Parts Unknown, which are now the source of all my power. To be perfectly honest, it’s really quite exhilarating. I now intend to enslave these Dark Forces and retain them for further use at a later date. For now, though, I suspect they will abandon me if I go to sleep, so I will continue to produce delicious baked goods for my team.

Anyway, I have to go. My first batch of muffins is ready.

I just read your Celebi writeup and i noted a certain resemblance to Lord English from Homestuck. (Lord English is a time traveling demon demon born at the end of the universe, who manipulates events to perpetuate his own existence. The main difference is that he is incredibly evil.) Was this intentional?

Fri, 24 May 2013 09:31:00 +1200

…huh.

You know, I didn’t specifically have Lord English in mind when I wrote that, but I suppose, now that you mention it, that there are some marked similarities in concept. They are also both green.

Sorry for the intrusion, but what are your opinions about Cherubi and Cherrim? They're two of my favourites(I even used them in White 2, since I got him in a trade), even though I know they're rather useless.

Sat, 18 May 2013 23:36:00 +1200

(Sorry about taking so long to get around to this; have been very busy lately)

Cherubi and Cherrim are… meh. You might recall my general distaste towards Sunflora for being a Grass Pokémon whose thing is that she likes sunlight - a characteristic shared by all Grass Pokémon - and this bugs me about Cherrim as well, but at least she can claim to have a unique mechanical and thematic quirk that shows her association with sunlight is stronger than it is for most other Grass-types. The design is not particularly inspired, but the choice of a cherry is admittedly a nice touch, since the shift from cherry fruit to cherry blossom allows for a dramatic change which still makes intuitive sense and is easy to comprehend (especially for a Japanese audience). I don’t think they really needed to be in the game, exactly, and it’s clear that they don’t have much of a battling niche outside of doubles, but… I guess I’m not that upset that they exist? Uh. So yeah.

White 2 Playthrough Journal, episode 23: Chasing shadows

Sat, 18 May 2013 23:21:06 +1200

We touch down outside the route 22 entrance to the cave network that leads into the Giant Chasm. Jim, Hugh and I sneak inside and prepare for a surprise attack on the two Team Plasma guards within, but are cut short when a third grunt approaches to tell them that they’re being relieved – it’s time for everyone to gather in the crater forest. The third grunt turns out to be our old friend, Rood’s spy. In recognition of the minor service he has performed for us, Hugh refrains from crushing him like a bug, and actually seems almost apologetic. I think he may have finally learned to distinguish between the two factions of Team Plasma; he even expresses a belief that justice for Rood’s group will never be possible as long as the loyalists’ actions continue to tarnish the name of Team Plasma. The agent thanks him for his understanding, and regretfully explains that he must leave us, as he still has more to do.

The cave network is twisted and confusing, but small, and we easily find our way into the Giant Chasm. As we step, blinking, back into the light and feel the still, frigid air on our faces, we see that Cheren was right about the frigate’s destination – the great ship has landed in the middle of the crater forest. Many Team Plasma members are already outside, apparently standing guard near the cave exit. To our surprise, Rood is there as well, standing opposite them with a couple of ex-Plasma grunts. Rood seems to be trying to explain to them that Ghetsis is evil and has no interest in liberating Pokémon at all. That’s… strange. I thought everyone already knew that. Some of the loyalists still believe that their real mission is to free Pokémon from human oppression? I know that many of them have given up the pretence completely; these guys are either lying or deluded. They refuse to believe anything Rood says, denouncing him as a traitor. Hugh calls on Rood and his attendants to fight, asking them why they even have Pokémon with them if not to protect the things they value. “Even if your precious Pokémon get hurt,” he exhorts them, “even if your ideals get damaged, the time to fight is NOW!” Wait- hang on, Hugh, aren’t their ideals the things that they’d be fighting to protect? And aren’t their ideals all about protecting Pokémon? And, for that matter, aren’t their Pokémon the ones they originally stole and are now trying to earn forgiveness from? And- oh, what the hell. At least he’s learned to exercise a little discrimination in his rage-unleashing; there’ll be plenty of time to get him started on philosophy later. His rallying cry seems to have worked, at any rate. Rood and his allies call out their Pokémon and prepare to fight, sending the three of us on ahead to invade the frigate once more while he keeps his former friends occupied. As we leave, he calls out to Hugh, telling him that the Purrloin he’s looking for is likely to be in the hands of the Shadow Triad. His commitment renewed, Hugh charges off towards the ship, Jim and I following cautiously behind.

The entrance to the ship is unguarded, and we quickly gain entrance. Jim and I almost immediately lose track of Hugh, who has begun another rage spree in his search for the Shadow Triad. We find a warp panel that takes us into the lower levels of the ship, and are immediately confronted by another force field, this one controlled by a series of switches protected by a warp panel maze. How the hell does anyone get anything done on this ship? More to the point, who’s designing this stuff? The Pokémon world’s security companies must be staffed entirely by ADHD schizophrenics. Jim and I split up, and manage to fight our way through the handful of Team Plasma guards remaining on the ship to flip the four switches. We meet up again at the deactivated force field and advance. Directly in front of us is the huge machine we saw from the balcony above the last time we were here – the ship’s heart, with Kyurem waiting inside. Zinzolin appears for one final gesture of futility. I convince him that there’s no point in fighting; he can’t beat either of us alone, so he’ll certainly never have a chance against both of us together. He gives us a strange piece of advice, “as long as you are dreaming, the dream will never reveal itself to you,” (either Zinzolin is still my superior in philosophy, or he’s spouting cryptic nonsense in order to confuse us – possibly both) and tells us that, although Kyurem’s prison is indestructible, we can go on to fight Team Plasma’s leader by taking the warp panel to our right. With a resigned shrug, we ready ourselves to take on Ghetsis. We remember the bastard from the original Black and White, and we aren’t about to be caught unawares. Satisfied that our Pokémon are in order, we step onto the panel and find ourselves in a spacious control room at the ship’s prow. Standing at the front, behind a desk packed with complicated-looking control panels, is-

Colress?

Ah hah! I knew it! Colress was really Ghetsis all along! I- wait, no, that makes no f#$%ing sense. Colress, why don’t you tell us what you’re doing here?

For Colress, all of this is, and has always been, about how Pokémon can become more powerful. N believed that humans suppressed the true strength of Pokémon, and that only separating the world into black and white could ever allow Pokémon to achieve perfection. N, of course, recanted his views after the events of Black and White, proving to Colress’ satisfaction that the way forward was for humans to bring out the true strength of Pokémon, but there was still a question to be answered: was this to be done through hard science or through emotion? When Colress’ old friend Ghetsis asked him to help orchestrate Team Plasma’s new operations in Unova, Colress decided to take advantage of the whole thing to set up an experiment. He designed all of Team Plasma’s new technology for Ghetsis, including the great flying frigate and its Nevermeltice cannon, along with a host of other devices, to try to bring out the power of Team Plasma’s Pokémon (particularly Kyurem). Unlike Zinzolin, he has no particular desire to see human civilisation destroyed, but would consider it a reasonable sacrifice, if that’s what it will take to see the ultimate strength of Pokémon realised at last. Meanwhile, he would encourage trainers like me and Jim to grow, work with our Pokémon, bring out their power through trust and love, and challenge Team Plasma. The Team Plasma loyalists who still worked for Ghetsis made the perfect control group, since they were, almost without exception, appalling trainers with only the barest shreds of empathy. We, it seems, have shown the potential of our approach at almost every turn. Like a good scientist should always be, Colress is as happy to be proven wrong as right. Our conflict with Team Plasma, he thinks, will decide the fate of the relationship between all Pokémon and humanity – Pokémon must always grow towards their true potential, whether the path is through Ghetsis’ cold technology or our empathy. He just has one final experiment to run: one last battle.

While Jim and his Pokémon team engage Colress’ powerful Steel-types in battle, I attempt to take on Colress himself in debate. I admit that I admire his dedication to the basic principles of science – his willingness to put his beliefs on the line and let his worldview be dictated only by hard evidence – but question how he can condone giving such power to a group like Team Plasma, effectively a terrorist organisation. How could his experiment be worth risking our entire civilisation? Colress replies that it was no risk at all. Ghetsis and N’s actions two years ago have revealed that both the justice and the utility of our relationship with all Pokémon are in question, and the nature of that relationship pervades every aspect of our society. If Team Plasma wins, if Pokémon truly can reach their potential more effectively through Ghetsis’ philosophies, then what authority is there left in civilisation? What can we trust is not holding us back? Better to take away everything, let our new relationship with Pokémon be decided from scratch, and to the victor go the spoils. But, I challenge him, how can a contest of brute force be allowed to have such authority? Colress chuckles at that. Surely I know better, he asks. Pokémon become more powerful as they grow, everyone knows that, but that’s hardly all there is to it. As a Pokémon’s physical strength waxes, so do its self-awareness, its understanding of its own powers, its ambition and ability to plan, even its personal charisma. This isn’t about Pokémon becoming better at battles – this, just as N always said, is about Pokémon becoming perfect beings. I concede his point on principle, but remind him that the relationships between all of these factors are still very poorly understood, in spite of recent advances in the field, and that any sweeping conclusions must remain highly contentious, especially in the case of species which do not exhibit Pokémon evolution. I suggest a complete survey of all relevant studies to date, with a thorough examination of the data and a critical review of all current methodological approaches. Colress agrees enthusiastically, and offers to mail me a copy of his research notes and a detailed bibliography. There’s totally a PhD thesis in this for me. At this point, we are interrupted by a deafening metallic clang as Colress’ Magnezone crashes to the floor. Colress claps his hands together excitedly. Jim’s Pokémon, again, have proven far more powerful than his. He congratulates us both on our strength and returns to his control panels. Tapping a few buttons, he casually explains that he is unlocking the warp panel that will lead us to Ghetsis’ office, then sends us off with a jaunty wave.

Notice on new X and Y stuff

Mon, 13 May 2013 00:15:42 +1200

I am vaguely aware that a number of new Pokémon have been revealed, however I have no plans to say anything about them. This is about the point at which I normally begin to ignore everything about a new Pokémon game, in anticipation of approaching it with as close as I can get to a completely fresh eye. In short - if you ask me what I think about any X and Y news from this point, I will have nothing to say, and may not even know what you’re talking about.

White 2 Playthrough Journal, episode 22: Naval warfare

Sun, 12 May 2013 21:10:44 +1200

With only a bare handful of grunts on deck, my Pokémon and I manage to force our way onto the Team Plasma frigate without much trouble. Jim and Hugh arrive just as my Ampharos is tossing the minions overboard. Together, the three of us march into the ship’s forecastle, our Pokémon swarming around us. Tragically, our dramatic entrance is stymied by a Team Plasma security device: a crackling blue force field.

Oh, okay, I remember how to handle these things; we have to find the ‘off’ switches in the rubbish bins, and- wait, there are no rubbish bins. Damnit; what kind of power-crazed madman designed this place!?

Inspection reveals that the force field is controlled by a keypad. We need to input the correct passphrase if we want to get inside and confront Team Plasma’s leaders. I momentarily regret ordering Sansa to throw the first batch of grunts off the ship without first torturing them for information. I instruct Hugh to guard the force field while Jim and I find someone to interrogate, but Hugh is having none of that. He still has rage to unleash today. He tears off towards the rear of the ship, looking for a way down below the deck. I follow him, glancing back at Jim with a helpless shrug. I catch up with Hugh as he barrels down the stairs only two steps behind his Emboar, who lands with a sickening crunch on top of an unfortunate Team Plasma grunt waiting at the bottom. Hugh is beginning some kind of rage-related threat when the grunt splutters a plea for mercy. He is, he claims, a spy for Rood’s splinter group, keeping watch on the movements of Ghetsis’ loyalists in order to help thwart their mischief. Huh. Way to go, Rood. I didn’t think espionage was really his style, but I guess it must have been easy enough, since the loyalists are still actively trying to recruit from his group. Unfortunately, Hugh and I very quickly learn that this spy has discovered absolutely nothing of any value. He knows that there is a force field protecting the ship’s command centre, and he knows that there is a password. He has no idea what that password is. Nor, when Hugh questions him, does he know anything about a stolen Purrloin. Hugh snorts derisively, muttering that he expected no better from a former member of Team Plasma, then tells Emboar to get off the poor guy and stalks off into the bowels of the ship. The spy apologises to me for not being helpful, but suggests that some of the real Team Plasma members might know something.

While the exterior of the Team Plasma frigate is quite imposing, and has a certain old-fashioned charm to it, the interior is really rather depressing. All the furnishings are in dull grey metal, and the grunts sleep in crowded dormitories and take their meals – bread and water, according to their cook – in a run-down mess hall. Frankly, the place reminds me of a prison. When I question one of the grunts about their living conditions, she remarks defensively that some of them have nowhere else to go. Well. That’s depressing. I suppose when the alternative is the revilement faced by Rood’s group, maybe this doesn’t seem so bad. I feel a momentary spasm of guilt at invading their home, and decide to take my mind off it by having Jaime the Samurott dangle one of them out a porthole. We quickly establish that none of them actually know the password, they just have a couple of letters or clues each. All this guy knows is that it begins with R. Well, surely, I point out as Jaime shakes him up and down, they must have compared notes once or twice. He protests, his voice slightly muffled as it comes in through the porthole, that the kind of people Ghetsis liked to recruit are not exactly experts in cooperative thinking. I shrug in assent, and dismiss him. Jaime drops the grunt into the sea, and we turn to the next fellow in line. He holds up his palms and explains quickly that he knows the password is the name of a Fire-type Pokémon, but nothing more. I am about to have Jaime stuff him through the porthole anyway, when my brain starts to tick. A Fire-type Pokémon whose name begins with R. That’s actually reasonably specific. Which Fire Pokémon have names that start with R? There’s Rapidash… Rotom when he’s in the form of a toaster, if you can even count him… and…

No… surely not… surely Zinzolin wouldn’t be so brazen?

I call Jim on my X-Transceiver and tell him to try entering “Reshiram” as the passphrase. It works.

Clearly Zinzolin never got the memo that your password should never be your name, your spouse, child or pet’s name, your date of birth, or the name of the ancient god who is the raison d’être of your entire organisation.

Jim marches through the deactivated force field with his Lucario, Dovahkiin, at his side. Behind the field is a tiny room containing a warp panel, presumably leading to somewhere else on the ship that can’t be directly accessed from the outside. They step onto the warp panel and, with a flash of light, find themselves standing on a balcony overlooking what appears to be the ship’s power core. Zinzolin is waiting for him. He applauds Jim for making it into the engine room, to which Jim modestly admits that all he did was keep watch while I found the password. Zinzolin shrugs, and notes that Jim is still clearly a very powerful trainer – and worthy of seeing the secret of Team Plasma’s newfound success. He gestures to the power core below, an enormous glass cylinder surrounded by an eerie blue glow that seems to feed the machines around it. Inside the cylinder, apparently passive and docile, is Kyurem, the legendary dragon of ice. This is the source of energy that powers their ship’s Nevermeltice cannon and, presumably, its other systems as well. It takes a while to recharge the cannon after a volley, but apparently the ship is almost ready. With Kyurem safe behind glass and all his ship’s systems powering up for battle, Zinzolin confidently challenges Jim, but the conclusion is forgone and hilarious. All of Zinzolin’s Ice Pokémon, of course, are cripplingly weak to Dovahkiin’s powerful Fighting attacks, and have no effective means of damaging a Steel-type anyway. Hugh, meanwhile, has arrived to deal with Zinzolin’s attendants. Once their battles have run their course, Hugh approaches Zinzolin and demands to know what’s happened to his sister’s Purrloin. Zinzolin frowns and gives Hugh a sceptical look. He has no idea where Purrloin is, though he assumes it now belongs to a member of Team Plasma. He suggests that Hugh should go and catch another one, to which Hugh objects that this Purrloin was caught for his sister by their grandfather, who has since died. Zinzolin dismisses this, saying that “an individual’s feelings” are “a trifling matter indeed.” He chides Hugh for wasting time on such sentimentality, then proclaims the ship ready to fly and summons the Shadow Triad. Two of them appear by Jim and Hugh on the balcony, and the third appears next to me on the lower decks. For an instant, everything goes black, and we find ourselves standing on the beach.

GOD DAMN IT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS TELEPORTING NINJA BULLS#!T.

I run to get back onto the ship, but Zinzolin has already fired up the flight engines, so I start hurling abuse at them instead, beginning with ‘coward’ and working my way up through all the different possible levels of obscenity and anatomical detail. For some reason, the ship does not descend, but instead flies off to the northwest. As I slow down to take a breather, we here a familiar voice – “sorry I’m late.” Cheren, useful as always, has just arrived to tell us that he thinks the ship is heading for the Giant Chasm. We all hop on our respective Flying Pokémon and prepare to move out, but Cheren himself doesn’t move. I give him an accusatory glare, and he just says something about looking for the heroes, since only Reshiram and Zekrom can stand up to Kyurem. We’ll see about that, I mutter as I spur Daenerys into flight. This is my damn story, and if I’m standing up to whatever Pokémon I please, N or no N. Daenerys the Flygon, Lydia the Swanna, and Hugh’s Unfezant soar off, past Humilau City and back towards route 22.

Let's talk about legendary Pokémon

Thu, 09 May 2013 14:22:00 +1200

So this image was doing the rounds a little while ago.

It’s a bit compressed by the format of my blog, so here’s a link where you can see it full-sized: http://i.imgur.com/mbPDZ94.jpg

I vaguely recall promising someone I would talk about this at some point, since I agree with some of what it says, but think that other parts are a bit simplistic, and others based on faulty assumptions.

So, basically - obviously enough - this purports to be a ‘family tree’ of sorts, showing the connections between all known legendary Pokémon and the way they relate to each other. The basic concept is more or less sound. I think it’s debatable whether the content of the Pokémon world’s myths can be, or is intended to be, taken as fact - in some places, Game Freak seem to imply that Arceus isn’t actually the creator of the universe, just a very powerful Pokémon who was worshiped as the creator by the people of ancient Sinnoh, while in other places they seem to state quite unequivocally “yes Arceus is god shut up.” I think it’s debatable. Most of what we know about Arceus is in-universe information from the perspective of modern humans, who (as they freely admit) don’t know much about anything. Still, setting that particular debate firmly aside for the moment, since it’s clearly beyond the scope of what this schema aims to deal with anyway… Some of the ideas are interesting, but I take issue with some of the specifics, which I shall discuss herein:

- I am mystified by the author’s choice to connect Latias and Latios with Dialga. I can only assume that this stems from the twins’ species designation - the Eon Pokémon - since an eon is a period of time (an extremely long one). However, they don’t actually have any time-related powers, or any obvious connection with time other than that name. The only convincing explanation I’ve ever seen for the designation “Eon Pokémon” is that it’s a reference to the Gnostic concept of the Aeons, a series of divine beings understood as ‘emanations’ of God (this is a… complicated idea that goes back to Neoplatonist movement of the third century AD, and ultimately has its routes in the doctrine of creation put forward by Plato’s Timaeus, where all reality is thought of as an expression of the mind of the creator, but let’s not go there). The fact that they exist as a male/female pair (the defining characteristic of Gnostic Aeons, who are unable to fulfill their proper functions in the absence of their counterparts), along with their Psychic typing, are what makes this theory attractive to me. In short, I don’t think time has anything to do with it, and I don’t think Latias and Latios are directly subordinate to Dialga. In fact, I think it’s really very difficult to say anything about Latias and Latios other than that they are extremely powerful and intelligent Psychic Pokémon, since there are no stories about them. They are explicitly said to be herd animals (even though we never actually see them in herds) and they are especially good at sensing emotion, but that’s about it. I honestly suspect they have no part in the mythology at all. If they do, and if they are intended to recall the Aeons of Gnosticism, they have some very strange implications for the nature of the Pokémon universe since Gnosticism is based around the idea that the creator (i.e. Arceus) is actually imperfect, and that the physical world is a result of the creator’s flawed nature and acts as a barrier to union with the true divine force. The Aeons themselves, however, are above that, which would make Latias and Latios, theoretically, a more pure version of what Arceus is supposed to be. Again, though, in the absence of any firm evidence, I’m hesitant even to give them a place in the cosmology.

- I likewise dispute associating Deoxys with Palkia, since I think this just relies on a fundamental misunderstanding of the word ‘space.’ We often use ‘space’ to refer to everything outside of our own planet, which I think is the sense being employed here - Deoxys is believed to be an alien life form, so must therefore fall under the domain of the ruler of ‘space.’ The trouble is that, when we say that Palkia controls ‘space,’ a very different sense of the word is meant - the three dimensions of space, the x, y and z axes, if you will, the kind of ‘space’ which is occupied by things that have volume. This ‘space’ does not end at the earth’s atmosphere; everything on Earth exists and moves in these three dimensions, including us. Deoxys does fall under Palkia’s domain, this is true - but so does every other Pokémon, just as everything that is, was, and will be is within Dialga’s sphere of influence. There is absolutely no reason to suggest a particularly close link between Deoxys and Palkia, any more than there is to suggest a link between Palkia and Sentret. What is interesting about Deoxys is that, since it doesn’t seem to be from earth, it’s clearly outside the traditional influence of most other legendary Pokémon. Deoxys is clearly not descended from Mew, for instance (we know it grew from a virus). It presumably has no connection with Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf. Is it even part of the creation of Arceus at all? I’m not sure.

- The association of Kyogre, Groudon and Rayquaza with Palkia, I can only assume, is to be taken as an assertion that Palkia created the physical world - since it exists in space? This, again, seems like a faulty link - the earth, sea and sky exist in time as well, so why not connect them with Dialga? For that matter, since Arceus supposedly created the world, doesn’t it make more sense to assume that those three primal forces were his creations as well?

- I am skeptical of giving Cobalion, Virizion, Terrakion and Keldeo a special role in the cosmology. Their backstory very much seems to suggest that they were reacting to what they saw as human aggression and recklessness. They weren’t set up as guardians by Arceus at the beginning of time or anything like that; they took on that role themselves. Dispute Cobalion, Virizion and Terrakion if you must, but Keldeo is definitely a late addition to their group, and nothing suggests that he was anything special before deciding to join them. The interesting implication here is that they were not born as legendary Pokémon, but achieved that status later in life.

- I am extremely skeptical of the notion that Regigigas was created by humans. True, Regigigas and its subordinate creations do have a complicated relationship with humanity (to wit: Regice, Regirock and Registeel were sealed away by humans who feared their power, and Regigigas’ own eternal sleep is presumably - though not necessarily - a result of that same action against them) but the mere fact that Regigigas is supposed to have towed continents (an aetiology for continental drift) surely implies that it is far, far older than humanity.

- Although the belief that Giratina was banished by Arceus is clearly what is supported by the extant mythology, I can’t help but think that a more critical reading may be necessary here. The events of Platinum version make it clear that Giratina and the Distortion World actually serve a vital purpose in maintaining the balance of forces in the real world. The Distortion World stabilises our own reality - and, indeed, is so effective at doing so that Dialga and Palkia, the masters of time and space, working in tandem, are unable to destroy it as long as the Distortion World exists. In fact, the way Cynthia describes it, the Distortion World almost seems like a kind of photo negative to the real world - a backup copy that can be used to repair any damage done to the fabric of existence. Giratina, it is implied, guards and protects that universe. Responsibility for an entire universe seems like an awfully important job to give to a being that was “banished for its violence.” I think it’s more likely that Giratina gained that reputation later on, based on accounts by humans who encountered it for one reason or another and fell afoul of its territorial nature, and that its actual role in Arceus’ creation was originally quite different.

- Finally, I have my own interpretation of Mew, although I’m aware that this one is rather idiosyncratic and many will disagree. See, I don’t believe that Mew is the ancestor of all Pokémon at all. I believe that the scientists who originally came to that conclusion prior to the events of Red and Blue were using very faulty logic. The evidence for this claim is that Mew appears to contain the DNA of all Pokémon, which is how she is able to Transform into any of them and use all of their powers - but that is simply not how evolution works. The whole point of evolution is that organisms change; an ancestor wouldn’t have all of its descendants’ DNA. The ‘canon’ explanation of what Mew is just doesn’t make sense. You can read about what I think is really going on in this entry.

That’s just what jumps out at me. I might come up with some other points to disagree with if I ever try to examine all of the legendary Pokémon in detail, as I have with Mew. But that’s another rant entirely.

could you describe what you look like in one word?

Thu, 09 May 2013 12:28:00 +1200

Myself.

This question is about the one you recently answered about trying to fill out the Pokemon ecosystem to give variety cabon copy Pokemon. I ask because I agree with both you and the questioner, so I wonder if different forms would be a solution? Instead of Goldeen and Finneon, they could be treated as 1 Pokemon with the same stats abilities and movepools, but have their different names and appearances. They would be looked up in the same place in the Pokedex, under a name like Fin Swimmer or w/e.

Thu, 09 May 2013 12:27:00 +1200

Maybe? I do feel that the idea of Pokémon forms is underused, and this would definitely be a good way of showing that kind of variety in future generations - instead of a new bird Pokémon that’s basically the same thing as Pidgey anyway, just call it what it is and create a regional variation of Pidgey (maybe with slightly different powers, a la Nidoran?). Saves time and effort. I don’t think I’d want to condense any existing Pokémon, though. I mean, we have them now, so I think it makes more sense to try and create more points of difference for them, give them more uniqueness and individuality. My real problem is that Game Freak just aren’t interested in doing that because continuing to add more new Pokémon is their top priority - excusable, I suppose, given that it’s been proven by experience to keep the franchise going, but it still bugs me.

Have you ever played any of the non-handheld Pokemon games or spinoffs? If you have a Gamecube or Wii available, Colosseum and Gale of Darkness definitely give some change to the typical Pokemon games. I loved how Instead of just using only 1 Type of Pokemon with no real synergy like Gym Leaders, bosses had various themes and strategies for the Double Battles, (Like Skill Swapping with a Slaking).

Mon, 06 May 2013 14:23:00 +1200

I don’t own any other consoles, nor have I ever really been able to justify the expense of buying them, so no, I’m afraid not.

Which rival is your favourite, and why?

Mon, 06 May 2013 14:21:00 +1200

Hmm.

I’m going to have to go with Silver. Silver starts off just as amazingly dickish as Blue ever was, if not more so, but he has this wonderful arc of growth and development where he learns to care for his Pokémon and work with them in a beautiful union of friendship - and the thing that I find truly wonderful about all this is that, in the end, he’s still a dick. Learning to love his Pokémon doesn’t magically change the fact that he is gruff, withdrawn, condescending and just all-around unlikable, which makes that positive shift feel so much more realistic, and emphasises that Silver, like everyone, has both good and bad in him.

Also Whimsicott is a really clever referance to a mythical plant called the vegetable lamb of tartary come on give Gamefreak so credit

Mon, 06 May 2013 14:13:00 +1200

…huh. Okay.

Suppose you went over to the dark side because they had cookies. You have your choice to join whichever evil Team you like. Which would it be, and why?

Sat, 04 May 2013 15:27:00 +1200

Hmm. Well, Team Plasma are kind of Ghetsis’ silly brainwashed minions, Teams Aqua and Magma are almost entirely built around a stunning failure to appreciate the basic principles of ecology, and Team Galactic go a little too far for my tastes with their plan to, y’know, destroy the universe, so I suppose I’m going to have to stick to the basics and go with Team Rocket. They have a sensible goal (money and power, in whatever quantities are achievable), they have no deluded master scheme that would threaten to derail their other plans and/or wipe out modern civilisation, they have a sensible command structure and effective recruiting strategies, and although they lack Team Galactic’s technological supremacy, they’ve still shown they can pull out some fairly impressive scientific expertise when the need arises. Besides, none of the other teams have an awesome motto.

CHRIS who did you kill for this url

Sat, 04 May 2013 15:04:00 +1200

The man who owned it before I did was a profoundly disturbed fellow who used to travel the world with a pointed stick, jabbing people without provocation (hence “poke maniacal”), and post images of his conquests. He asked me for the time one day while I was in a hurry, so I slew him in single combat using his own pointed stick, stole his wallet, clothes, and identity, sold his children into slavery in a Vietnamese sweatshop, and gave him a Viking funeral.

One could argue that I overreacted but it is a very nice URL.

Why do you ignore Lilligants access to Own Tempo and Petal Dance? It's one of the only Pokemon that can use a move like that with no consequence!

Sat, 04 May 2013 14:54:00 +1200

Because it’s still a bad idea.

The confusion isn’t even really the worst part of moves like Petal Dance, because you can always just switch out. The trouble is being locked into those moves, and unable to switch out, while they continue. Dragon-types can get away with using Outrage because so few Pokémon resist Dragon attacks, and even then it’s kind of a gamble. If you’re using Petal Dance, your opponent basically has a free switch to any of the seven elements that resist Grass attacks (and if Petal Dance keeps going for a third turn and gives the switch-in a chance to set up, you might really be in trouble).

I mean, it’s not useless, but it’s not really good enough that it becomes a better option than Chlorophyll.

I was looking at your review of the Sewaddle family and I noticed that you said you don't get why Swadloon looks so grumpy, it's actually a joke that Swadloon is a hikikomori, to evolve it has to be truly happy (I think Gamefreak put that in as an aesop) Leavanny's Japanese name is even a pun on it!

Sat, 04 May 2013 14:51:00 +1200

What did I actually say about Swadloon? I’m not sure I even remember. I’ll look it up.

Oh yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t really get it, but I still liked it. Hmm. Well, I have no idea what a hikikomori is, but I’ll take your word for it that it makes sense.

Recently ive been thinking about how you don't like pokemon that step on others toes in terms of design. I, personally, believe they add alot to the pokeverse and here is my reasoning. In the wild, animals have been known to adopt identical traits and natures through evolution simply because it makes them more fit for survival. Looking at the 'generic normal birds' they keep adding. In the real world you don't see one type of bird, they're dozens upon dozens of species of them. So, to me... 1/2

Fri, 03 May 2013 15:44:00 +1200

So I think the second half of this question has been lost in the aether, but there’s enough of it here that I can get the gist of it, don’t you think?

So. Yes; that is a legitimate point. I disagree (as, of course, you are aware) but I think it is fair to say that (for example) Pokémon like Pidgey, Spearow, Taillow, Starly and Pidove convey the variety we see even amongst the ‘generic birds’ of the real world, and that this can be called a strength of that design philosophy. I am inclined to believe, however, that the continued proliferation of ‘generic’ designs like these is simply rather poor prioritisation. The aim (so far as I can make out) is not to construct a working ecosystem, or a realistic cross-section of the species you actually see in the world; the aim, I think, is to convey the diversity of life, to show how just how weird and amazing some species can be. Sure, there are thousands of species of birds, but when you already have the pigeon, why would you do the starling and not the cassowary, or the quetzal?

Besides, if we actually try to imitate the spread of species we see in the real world, we’ll wind up with 90% of all Pokémon being Bug-types.

Perfect blog. Its really great to know some fans are really this deeply interested in Pokemon, and seeing you reveiw almost everything is great

Fri, 03 May 2013 10:47:00 +1200

D’aww, thanks. :-)

On EFTPOS

Thu, 02 May 2013 13:00:00 +1200

So again I have been too busy to write Pokémon stuff for you this week, which is why there is no more playthrough journal at the moment, but I do want to take a moment to talk to you about what I had for lunch yesterday.

Yesterday for lunch I had two vegetarian samosas with vindaloo sauce from a takeaway curry place on the grounds of the university where I work and study. They were delicious, but this is not as relevant as you might think. What is relevant is that I paid for these delicious samosas and their vindaloo sauce by putting a plastic card in a slot and pressing some buttons. I possessed nothing of worth which I could exchange for my lunch (well, except for my books, which I need to do my job properly), nor did I provide the staff of the Indian takeaway place with any useful service. I just presented them with a bit of plastic (which I then took back afterwards!) and keyed a sequence of numbers into a pad (without even revealing what those numbers were!), and I think it is really quite astonishing that I live in the world where this is a totally legitimate way of obtaining delicious samosas with vindaloo sauce.

Let’s think about what’s happening here. I’m talking, of course, about an EFTPOS transaction, whereby some money is transferred from my bank account to the bank account of the company which produces the delicious samosas. As far as I know, this money exists only as numbers on a computer screen. I suppose it’s possible that the bank actually has a bunch of little vaults and that the bank staff shuttle piles of coins from one to another whenever I buy samosas, but I find this unlikely. At any rate I have never seen these coins if they exist, since the money was paid directly into my bank account by the university. The university gives me this money because, four times every week, I stand up in front of a group of 20-odd undergrads and baffle them with nonsense like this, as well as reading the pieces of paper given to me by those same undergrads and explaining to them why everything they have just told me is not only wrong but potentially insane. Since I perform these tasks diligently and with integrity, the university tells the bank to take some of the numbers next to its name and put them next to my name instead. Most of the numbers next to the university’s name are derived from government funding, which in turn are derived from taxes collected each year from the people of New Zealand, as determined, planned and arranged by the duly elected magistrates of our democratic government. As far as I am aware, the people who make my delicious samosas enjoy no benefit, themselves, from my duties, and I suspect it would not matter if they did.

As far as I can make out, then, the people of my country, acting through the person of their elected officials, have collectively decided that, by peddling befuddlement to my students in a misguided attempt to expand their minds, I am performing a useful service to my society, and that in recognition of this service, I have the right to consume delicious samosas on a regular basis, and furthermore, that anyone willing to provide me with these delicious samosas should be rewarded in turn, in a manner of their own choosing. And all of this is represented by the action of a slim piece of plastic and the movement of a few digits.

I find it truly amazing the things people take for granted.

do you think it would be better if Ditto's transform was an ability instead f a move so that way it wouldn't miss out on a turn... I know it would be weird for the programming if a pokemon didn't a have a move but I think that would make it more desirable of a pokemon to use.

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 20:13:00 +1200

You know this is exactly what Ditto’s Dream World ability does, right?