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Wednesday, October 3, 2012

World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria Log One: Yep, I Sure Am A Panda-Person

October 3rd, 2012Top Story

World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria Log One: Yep, I Sure Am A Panda-Person

By Kate Cox
World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria Log One: Yep, I Sure Am A Panda-Person

[The Mists of Pandaria expansion to World of Warcraft introduces new content in the starter levels as well as in the late game. This is a look at how new, low-level content appears to a new player. We'll also be posting a look at Pandaria's new level 80-90 zones, and the veteran perspective, from a more experienced hand.]

Nearly every MMORPG I have ever played suffers from one jarring, universal problem. It's particularly bad in brand-new games, or in brand-new content added to older games. I claw my way through a throng of other players who look just like me, to speak with an NPC. "I've never seen anything like you!" my quest-giver gushes.

Really? Because I can spot fifty right now, with a brand new hundred by the time I get back to you to turn in my ten dead things.

Being one of many facing cognitive dissonance in the panda throng is not new, unusual, or unexpected. It is, however, the first in a series of many events that tell me Mists of Pandaria doesn't give two shakes of a panda's tail what an honest-to-god new player thinks of World of Warcraft. Actually, I lie. It's the second such event. The first happened before I even logged into the game, upon discovering that a Mists of Pandaria purchase doesn't include base game access, and is not valid to upgrade a trial World of Warcraft account. You need to get the base game (now sold in Battle Chest form with two expansions) first.

I am that rare thing, an honest-to-goodness World of Warcraft newbie. I have played many MMOs, including WoW clones and competitors, but other than three weeks in 2006 and a very brief foray into the Pandaria beta, this is the first time I have ever actually sat down to play the dominant game of the genre.

I kept battling this constant sense that the game actively expected me to have and know information that is not made particularly clear through normal gameplay.

I am sad to report that, lovely music and lush landscapes aside, Mists of Pandaria doesn't particularly seem to offer anything new or special to entice the newbie player. Instead, I kept battling this constant sense that the game actively expected me to have and know information that is not made particularly clear through normal gameplay. It took the internet to tell me that I could get item comparison tooltips by holding down shift, and I discovered the dressing room function entirely by accident. And while figuring out what I needed to do after dying for the first time (gracelessly, in a turnip field) wasn't exactly rocket science, it certainly could have been made much more clear what my options were, and why.

I also couldn't shake the feeling that, although the Wandering Isle where I started was a very carefully crafted experience, it was also, ultimately, an irrelevant one. Seeing hundreds of other players kitted out in exactly the same gear reminded me that individuality, at level ten, is of more or less no value—and neither are my quest rewards. Three vest upgrades in ten levels? Sure, I appreciated the armor, but hanging onto a reward for less than twenty minutes tells me that the reward is pointless.

What I was pleased to discover, though, is a story. It's not my little rogue's story, but the Pandaren NPCs who accompany the newbie through levels 1-12, and join them in assimilating either to the Horde or the Alliance after, have a dramatic tale to tell. I think. After I arrived at Stormwind Keep and met the king there, my beary companion vanished. I am sure that her story resurfaces, because the king's words were too dark an omen for it not to, but as yet I've no idea how or when. I hope I don't have to wait for 70 levels for the next chapter.

World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria Log One: Yep, I Sure Am A Panda-Person

The panda soap opera, as it turns out, is something I can totally buy into. The quests around it, well, they're less distinctive. I need to kill 6, 8, 10, or 12 of something. Or rather, I need to gather said number of things from the corpses of stuff I killed, but naturally not every dead thing will drop a whatever. Eventually my journal says it's full and I go look for the marker on the map that says I should turn in my ill-gotten loot to someone who can use it. This is the way of the world. I mind more that I have to avoid and take turns with other players than I do that these are the quests we undertake. Still, WoW was ever thus.

As I wandered the Wandering Isle, I felt mostly like I was visiting EPCOT. This was a variation on Chinese mythology that never quite was, an extraordinarily carefully built horseshoe-shaped tour of this custom-built island. The timing of the questing is exquisitely managed, like a theme park queue. I reached 50 quests completed at almost the exact moment I hit level 10, and reached the final stage of my tour at the same time. There, I met both the Horde and the Alliance and, working with representatives of both, wrapped up two more levels—and all of the starter area content—in quick succession.

Having been guided so very carefully around a very limited starting area, I then found it pretty jarring to be dumped unceremoniously in "old-world" content with no clear idea of what direction would best continue my story. So now, as happens in large game worlds, I am a bit of a mercenary, performing tasks for any old exclamation point who lights up my path. Maybe eventually the game will show me how I can pick up a crafting profession, so that I can compulsively mine the nodes I find glittering so enchantingly in my path. And maybe, sometime after that, it will give me a reason for playing, other than "someday you will be level 80 and can earn rewards worth hanging on to."

Kotaku's MMO reviews are a multi-part process. Rather than deliver day one reviews based on beta gameplay, we play the game for a few weeks before issuing our final verdict. Once a week, we deliver a log detailing when and how we played the game. We believe this gives readers a frame of reference for the final review. Since MMO titles support many different types of play, readers can compare our experiences to theirs to determine what the review means to them.
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How To Be A Master Of Driving In The Wet

October 3rd, 2012Top Story

How To Be A Master Of Driving In The Wet

By alex lloyd

How To Be A Master Of Driving In The WetAyrton Senna is arguably the greatest racecar driver to ever walk this planet –- and neighboring planets too — but he will always be the undisputed rain master. When the heavens opened he was unbeatable, showcasing his unmatched prowess in a way no other driver could match.

Rain is the great equalizer. It provides a driver an opportunity to overcome mechanical deficits. The emphasis is set on feel, awareness and adaption. Car control and throttle modulation become top priority. The conditions take center stage as the most prominent obstacle standing between each driver and their shot at victory.

Drivers fear the rain. They may not say it, but they think it. It puts people in the wrong frame of mind heading into a race. Thoughts like, "I need to leave a little extra margin for error so I don't crash," or "Bloody hell my socks are soaked," slip into their minds. Most are simply thinking, "Dude, this sucks!" Mentally you need to be tough and squash any negative thoughts. You should be thinking, "Man, this is brilliant. I'm going to punish you fools and make you look like a bunch of idiots. This is my chance." Racers fear a demeanor like this. They won't understand why you are so confident and excited when they are not, thus making what little ego they have left shrink even further.

Of course, all the mental strength in the world can't make you drive fast in the rain if you have no clue how you drive in the wet. When Ayrton Senna participated in his first wet race he was "useless." He "couldn't do any good." So what did he do? "Whenever it rained, I went to the go-kart track," Senna explained. While other racers were sitting at home watching their Dad's filthy movies, Senna was getting pissed wet through driving round and round the local go-kart track — learning, experimenting and mastering. "That's how I learned," Senna once said.

How To Be A Master Of Driving In The WetThe first thing you need to do when driving a wet racetrack is forget the traditional racing line. Now your focus is on finding grip. It doesn't matter how unconventional or stupidly illogical your lines appears, finding the most grip will result in the fastest lap time. I'm not saying the usual racing line is not the best option –- many times it is — but it can also be completely different, especially when the track has been well used and a lot of rubber is laid down on the racing line. Wet rubber is extremely slippery and avoiding this is often a far quicker way around.

This is very evident when karting. In fact, my first ever race victory was in a go-kart in the rain. How I did it was by utilizing my naturally smooth style and venturing completely off the beaten track. I broke a kart length to the inside of the usual braking line to avoid the slippery rubber (allowing me to brake later), then ran my kart right around the outside of the bend (which is where I found a bunch more grip). Then I pinched the car on exit to accelerate in a straight line, tighter than the traditional line, to again avoid the rubber and leaving me with a faster exit. What I discovered helped me win by a quarter of a lap in each heat and ultimately in the grand final.

The same theory is used with any racecar on any track. Search for grip. Look for other patches of tarmac that might provide better grip than where you would normally drive. Brake in new areas and be conscious of what tire rubber can do to the track surface when wet. Be prepared to short-shift up the gears if it helps put power down, or even choose a taller gear through the bend to assist with this. Think outside the box, and be attentive to other racers' lines. Can you learn anything from them?

Above all, practice. Don't sit on the couch watching reruns of The Real Housewives of Orange County. Grab your umbrella and head out to the racetrack.

How To Be A Master Of Driving In The WetAyrton Senna almost won a rain-soaked 1984 Monaco Grand Prix in his first season in F1, racing for the lowly Toleman team. He then won his first ever Formula One race at an equally drenched Portuguese Grand Prix the following season for Lotus. But the most memorable victory of his career perhaps came at the 1993 European Grand Prix at Donington Park (a race in which I — age 9 — stood watching in awe). In an underpowered McLaren, facing a dominant Williams, Senna dropped to sixth off the line. The rain was torrential, but by the end of the first lap, often referred to as the greatest lap of all time, he was miraculously in the lead. He went on to win that race by 1 minute 23 seconds, masterfully lapping everyone up to second.

Senna famously said, "You think you have a limit. And as soon as you touch this limit something happens and you suddenly can go a little bit further. With your mind power, your determination, your instincts, and the experience as well, you can fly very high."

These are words every racer should live by.

About the author: @Alex_Lloyd began racing in the U.S. in 2006. He won the Indy Lights championship in 2007. He's competed in the Daytona 24-hour twice and the Indianapolis 500 four times — placing fourth in 2010. The native of MADchester, UK began racing karts at age 8, open-wheel race cars at 16 and finished second to Formula One World Champion - and close friend - Lewis Hamilton, in the 2003 British Formula Renault Championship, followed by a stint representing Great Britain in A1GP and winning races in Formula 3000. He lives in Indianapolis with his wife Samantha (also from England) and three young "Hoosier" children. He also enjoys racing in triathlons and is rather partial to good old English cup of tea. But not crumpets.

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Butt-Chugging the Election: Your 2012 Presidential Debate Drinking Games

October 3rd, 2012Top Story

Butt-Chugging the Election: Your 2012 Presidential Debate Drinking Games

By Mobutu Sese Seko

Butt-Chugging the Election: Your 2012 Presidential Debate Drinking GamesThe presidential debate will be on all the networks tonight. This explains the sense of dejection you felt on waking this morning and realizing, in some vulnerable corner of your heart, that Detective Olivia Benson won't be getting too close to a case. I'm sorry it had to be this way.

If many of the pundits are to be believed, this is Mitt Romney's chance to introduce himself to America. Or seventh. Romney's like the coworker a friend keeps inviting to hang with your group, mistakenly thinking his appeal is transferable. ("You should hear the cracks he makes about our supervisor, Mr. Werner! He's the funniest guy in the break room!") Except in this case the friend introducing Mitt Romney is Mitt Romney, which makes it weird.

Just to be on the safe side, though, don't believe the pundits. Treat this event with the respect it deserves: settle in front of the TV and your favorite wiseass's Twitter feed and get thoroughly polluted. What tonight holds in store for everyone will only be certain 48 hours later, via political time-dilation, and there will be a truth unique to each party anyway. Being sober for it only increases understanding, which only reifies the need for drink.

There are two problems with presidential debates. One, unless one side magnificently fucks up, each can plausibly claim a victory, leaving the fight to their war rooms. (Al Gore was credited with a win during the first debate in 2000, but weeks of spin about his "sighing" made him somehow un-win it.) Two, since the "scoring" of a debate has zero bearing on how the country is actually run, the facts crediting wins and losses are drawn from an amorphous pundit fog of trivialities.

The pregame shows are worse for this. They reward the pundit who can subtly throw as many predictions at the wall as possible, allowing him to later claim the one that stuck. The pundit's task is less to outline a strategy for a candidate and conduct an accurate debate postmortem—because both of those things could later turn out to be wrong—than to maintain the illusion of having always been for whatever it was that happened.

Anything you hear today about what "needs" to happen during the debates will probably either include dozens of ideas or hew to one safe standard. On the former, you'll get segments like, "The Three Things That Romney Needs to Do Tonight," with enough conditional arguments that the three things functionally swell to seven—while at least one political-advice fantasy boils down to, "Mitt Romney needs to align his campaign's deflector dish to aim a reverse-tachyon beam at the middle-American disturbance to undo the vote wormhole in Freedom Subspace." Meanwhile, the safe latter option will be something about "managing expectations."

You know how this works. A pundit says that his candidate needs to "manage expectations," while the other guy has to have the debate of his life. The other guy always has to play like 2007 Tom Brady, while your brand is so assured of its success with America in general that it can get away with playing as "reasonably sober-looking Kyle Orton." PROTECT THE FOOTBALL. DON'T SAY SOMETHING NICE ABOUT KIM JONG-IL'S POMPADOUR. ("He looked like the Asian Morrissey." BAD!!! AVOID THIS!!!)

Since tonight stands a good chance of not mattering, it's best then to manage your expectations, and there's no finer vehicle for that than drink. Especially a debate drinking game. Twitter is liable to be aflutter with suggestions for vinous self-destruction, so check back throughout the day to plan your night to the fullest. For now, I've done what little I can to help.

PLAN A: You're Going to Die

I've never much understood drinking games. Most people play them to get drunk. Why would you let rules stand in the way of becoming thoroughly shitfaced? YOU'RE AN ADULT, JUST GO FOR IT. There's no way the circumstances of a drinking game are going to elicit approving nods from people, anyway. "Why am I so hungover that I just threw up in that bowl? Well, I established these rules where I took a shot when someone on TV used a specific word. So, naturally, Reverend, I had no choice but to soldier on. Keep going, don't mind me, this baptism is fucking amazing."

The best drinking games are ones where drink is merely a prerequisite and lubricant for participation—"beer die" (a/k/a "plunk") or other tests of skill. But if you want the polite fiction that you're not just getting thoroughly crocked for no reason, these criteria ought to make the presidential debate a night unremembered.

Take one (1) drink every time:

  • You hear "manage expectations."
    You can't go into a debate without a swerve on. This is how you pregame! Imagine that you're at the venue. Actual drinks inside are probably $9.00, so you need to create your own parking-lot experience. Watch a CNN livestream in on an iPad while standing around a grill or sitting in a truck tailgate. Wear a blue sweatshirt or a red sweatshirt. Try to high-five everybody. (A dog counts.)
  • You see Dana Loesch.
    More pregaming! Drinking helps cope with the fact that Dana Loesch is about to talk. Take two drinks if you can tell that she was just composing her next tweet about how LIBTURDS are too busy trying to hide the facts about OCCUPY WALL STREET RAPISTS to notice that it is the blacks and the democruds who are the real racism.
  • Roland Martin has to sit politely next to someone like Erick Erickson cheerlead or pardon obvious dog-whistle racism.
  • Mitt Romney says something that contradicts a statement made by Mitt Romney.
  • Obama makes his "not losing my temper" face.
    After four years of being the last word in major American political decisions, spending a few minutes listening to Chucklehead the Dog Torturer bloviate through something about Thomas Jefferson is going to stamp a wince on Obama's face for as long as he's not allowed to talk. Just a tense smile and a nod—like a teacher listening as the parents of the devil himself filibuster their way through an open-house conversation about "their little angel."
  • Any time Mitt Romney uses "liberty" or "freedom" or their synonyms.
  • Any time someone uses the term "founding fathers" or a proper name of a founding father.
    Take two drinks if the name dropped is someone like Gouvernor Morris or John Dickinson. Finish your drink and take a sip of another if it's Charles Cotesworth Pinckney. If it's Button Gwinnett, please write that on your chest and tweet a photo at me. Or go to sleep. It's not your night.
  • Any variation on "you are/are not better off than you were four years ago."
  • Every time Obama says "divisive."
    It's "div-EYE-sive," like DIVIDE. What's this "dih-VISS-ive" bullshit? I don't care if they say it that way in New England and the midwest. YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.
  • Any time someone says "Reagan."
    You may want to wear a bib after a while. Or sit on something rubber.
  • Any time Obama mentions the auto bailout or killing bin Laden.
    Also, if Obama starts to go on for too long about the decision to kill bin Laden, the White House situation room, the Navy SEALs or the kill shot, everyone has to do a hands check and remove any pillows or blankets from their laps. PEOPLE WITH WAR BONERS HAVE TO CHUG. At least until that thing goes away, because, seriously, GROSS.
  • Romney says he's "for the 100%."
    Drink with your pinky extended. If you're drinking Kahlua, use demitasse.
  • Romney says something about Europe and socialism.
    Finish your drink if he says "Death Panel." If he mentions he lived in France, immediately switch to wine and claim a 50% Reduction Bonus in obligatory drinks for the rest of the night.
  • You hear a Romney zinger.
    Mitt Romney's team believes that the debates are about "creating moments", so they have preemptively crafted memorable zingers to give the speech "stickiness" with voters. The Romney debate prep team is actually three hairless women who spend their days hooked up to hoses and floating in a bottom-lit bath inside granite basins carved deep within the inactive caldera of Mount Ararat, envisioning potential futures according to shifting degrees of probability. Thanks to both precognitive imaging and post-precognitive analysis, the Romney team is over 90% certain that the following comments will not only derail the Obama team's debate hopes but redefine our understanding of the campaign:

    1. Takes one to know one.
    2. You say Obamacare is like my plan? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. President: I've worked with Mitt Romney, I am Mitt Romney, and you, sir, aren't.
    3. Welcome to Good Burger.
    4. You're rubber, I'm rubber. We're both rubber. The American people are glue, I hope.
    4. Do I stutter?
    6. If I lose my temper, you're totaled, man.
    7. [Any really good Monty Python quote.]
    8. Amarxistsayswhat?
    9. (In Batman voice) You'll hunt me. You'll condemn me. Set the dogs on me. Because that's what needs to happen. You'll hunt me, because I can take it. Because I'm not your hero: I'm your 100%.
    10. You say you saved GM? Well, for all the good it did the American economy, you may as well have saved—(pulls out a jar of urine with a turd floating in it)—BM.

    Drink during any of these, but if possible try to anticipate them.

PLAN B: Shoot the Moon

If you declined to take part in the game, you are alive, while all your friends who tried the above are dead! (Congratulations, you stiff.) Now is the time to take money out of their wallets, check their smartphones for private nudes and stick at least a few fingers in noses. Use the smartphones to commemorate the occasion. Don't be afraid to improvise!

Okay, so you're sober and boring. But there is a way to make it to work on time—and with a human pallor—while still gambling with your future and America's. Like shooting the moon in a game of hearts, you can go contrarian. Assume that things won't happen. The trick is, in order to avoid the consequences, you need everything to not happen. Make a series of bets that you will never see or hear any of these phenomena:

  • Positive mentions of "Kolob" or "the UN boundaries of Palestine."
  • Mitt Romney making a brief and forceful statement citing American history that wasn't written by a radio or TV host, a church or this totally awesome guy.
  • Obama making a confident pledge to maintain a progressive stance on an issue and refusing to preemptively concede most of his terms before reaching the bargaining table.
  • "Shukran jazilan, governor."
  • Either candidate making an analogy to a "pantsburnlegwound" or a "Nancy Grace monster jam."
  • A "Good Year" drone circling the debate overhead.
  • Someone in your drinking party getting deported.
  • The camera cutting away suddenly...
    It's Joe Biden! He's walking through a crowd in Janesville, Wisconsin, explaining how he used to be a roadie for Steppenwolf. "Back then, I called 'em 'The Wolf,' because that's how raw they were. Problem was, things got a little dicey when the ladies thought I was talking about myself. The Gray Wolf."
  • The camera cutting away again!
    It's Paul Ryan! He's got the statue of Ben Franklin at the Philadelphia Franklin Institute in a headlock. He's using the pincer-like force of his flexing biceps to UNSCREW the stone head off that big bald sumbitch, and now he's carrying the head above him like a trophy and HEAVING it through the front windows of that unAmerican SOCIALIST redoubt—the Post Office! Ryan is screaming now, screaming at the citizens hiding behind the metal security shutters of local businesses and behind thick wooden front doors. WHO WILL COME OUT TO CHALLENGE HIM? Ryan is demanding that they face him in combat. "SEND ME YOUR FINEST WARRIOR, AND IF I BEST HIM, YOU MUST GIVE ME YOUR VOTES AS TRIBUTE." HE IS UNSTOPPABLE! BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! THIS IS A WAR!!!

If any of that shit happens, you have to butt-chug an entire bladder of Franzia. Cabernet.

Tonight is democracy in action. WHO ARE YOU TO RESIST? Good luck, and God bless.

Many thanks to the fantastic writers @Arr and @mallelis who contributed some jokes to this piece.

Image by Jim Cooke.

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