Black Myth Wukong – the noob friendly soulsplayer?

It’s not good for me, I know, but I’m in the midst of a soulsplayers binge – Elden Ring, Elden Ring DLC, Dark Souls 3 and now Black Myth Wukong have been played in succession. When I’m finished with the latter the prospect of another Sekiro playthrough (using one of those masochistic ultra-difficult mods) appeals to me the same way a hit of crack rocked up using the purest Colombian raw would to an addict.

I used the word masochistic in the previous paragraph. Playing a Hidetaka Miyazaki soulsplayer cannot be done casually – your focus is entirely gripped by dread as mistakes and inadequacies are punished emphatically and the cost of failure is often punitive. Repeated failure breeds the kind of obsessive vanity that often proves destructive, eventually morphing into self-flagellation. When the anticipation of relief is finally, tantalizingly near, that, at last, your ordeal trying to beat this sodding boss is nearly over, nerves become your greatest enemy. As you whittle the boss’s health bar down to the last sliver, your frown deepens, a grimace appears, teeth gnash, and the heart starts to palpitate and the glands sweat more than Terry Waite chained to a radiator. To surmise – a true soulsplayer makes you feel and play in a state of desperation, like a noob.

And yes, I realise a man in his forties shouldn’t be using the term “noob”. Said terminology belongs to the chronically online incels, 4chaners or snobbish wankers who spend most of their waking hours on Discord convincing themselves they’re better than incels.

Anyway, we return to the question, is Black Myth Wukong a true soulsplayer? Nope. Now that isn’t intended to be a disparaging quip, and this isn’t me claiming not to be a noob player. Game Science may have intended Black Myth Wukong to sit alongside Dark Souls 3, Elden Ring and Sekiro in the soulsplayers pantheon, but because they’ve made something so engrossing and enjoyable that it isn’t a true soulsplayer doesn’t matter.

To get to the substance, Black Myth Wukong is simply not hard enough to belong to the genre. For two reasons – first, there simply isn’t enough jeopardy. Take Dark Souls 3, a perpetual state of panic is always lingering when exploring, because peril is as relentless as your character is frail; that you might fall to your death, get overwhelmed, be subject to a sneak attack, confronted by yet another fucking mini-boss, etc. This is especially heightened when you’ve exhausted your healing capability to pass several enemies. The prospect of failing and having to do this bit of the level again is agonizing because you’ll lose your souls and level progress. Black Myth Wukong does not punish failure beyond sending you back to your previous shrine. No sparks or items are lost, and shrines are generally plentiful and often favourably located.

Second, while there are a few piss boiling bosses in Black Myth Wukong, the portentous chatter of Yellowbrow and Erland is purposely aggravating, overcoming the Yoaguai Kings does not feel insurmountable. There is no Darkeater Midir, Sister Friede, Promised Consort Radahn, Isshin the Sword Saint or Malenia Blade of Miquella in this game, where the path to defeating them feels torturous and demoralisingly distant, especially during your early attempts. Yellow Loong was the boss I had the most bother with in Black Myth Wukong. It took me roughly fifteen attempts to beat him. This was mostly down to not optimizing my build, correctly allocating skills and initially failing to adopt an effective fight strategy. This is of the kind of irrational dogmatism that only belongs to an aging brain, but also reflects that the game’s difficulty often did not necessitate a deliberation on approach.

Difficulty aside, every other element of this game is phenomenal. It’s the most beautiful game I’ve ever played, and that extends to both character design and landscapes. The Chinese politburo needn’t bother with tourism advertising. China’s immensely varied topography and biodiversity is fully and gloriously represented in Black Myth Wukong with jungle, desert, caves, lava scorched hills and snow-covered mountains. The lushness of these landscapes serves a purpose beyond surface; it encourages extensive exploration. This leads to a minor gripe – invisible walls galore. I found myself wanting to get lost by just wandering off towards a random point in the distance, only to be frustrated by the game’s necessary linear constraints.

The care taken crafting the game’s aesthetic is also extended to elements of The Journey to the West’s mythology. Each chapter epilogue is an animated sequence, mostly Manga inspired, serving as a summary of the chapter’s lore and or themes. These manage to be visually beguiling and simultaneously squalid, peculiar and macabre. Traditional Chinese portraiture of defeated foes, as well as end of chapter paintings, operate as a vector into Chinese Buddhist mythology, making it feel accessible to us uninitiated Westerner scum who are also unfamiliar with Alan Watts. The novella entries for all enemies you defeat are there for the more discerning (aka the few people who still read) preceded by a poetic passage for those who don’t want to read anything longer than a paragraph.

My favourite of these belongs to Tiger Vanguard:

Gathering strength with a mighty roar,
Transforming stones, launching surprise once more,
A Loyal General with a heart so bold,
A noble fighter, lost in the age of old

Non-boss combat is moreish, at times strategic with the various staff stances, spells, spirits, relics, transformations, curios, armour and skill tree upgrades at your disposal. But to return to it again, their rapid accumulation proves too plentiful, and, even if used sub-optimally, combine to make your character too formidable. On my second playthrough I didn’t die until chapter three (of six), as you keep all your upgrades earned from the previous playthroughs. This does create a conceit in encouraging you to replay the game to experiment and master all staff attack combos, to max out the skill trees and collect every item.

Paradoxically, the challenge feature earned upon completion of your first playthrough is the game’s sternest test. You have to defeat several Yoaguai Kings or Chiefs in a row without dying, and your health or mana isn’t replenished between each fight. This feature has the feel of a late addendum, and, I’m probably projecting here, it’s as though the developers knew the base game’s difficulty wouldn’t satiate and appease soulsplayer fanatics.

Ultimately most games are truly memorable when they test the limits of your patience and endurance. Black Myth Wukong is the exception, it’s memorable without being a psychological blight. If Game Science are to make a follow up, as rumoured, give the noobs what they think they want but really need – make it tougher and more ruthless than the original. Gamers are all one and the same – there can be no feeling of achievement without a bit of suffering.

Posted in Odds & Ends | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Song Of The Day – D.A.I.S.Y. by De La Soul

From the album “3 Feet High and Rising” (1989)

Posted in Song Of The Day | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Song Of The Day – Shroud Two by Odd Ned

From the album “Long Mile Works” (2021)

Posted in Song Of The Day | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Premier League Preview 2025/26

Holy Jesus, Premier League football is back already and that means the summer is nearly over. I’ll confess I enjoyed the three-month break from organizing my schedule around live football. But now we’re back to normality – nine months of stupid kick-off times, cringeworthy Sky hyperbole, demoralizing forms of geopolitical sportswashing and brazen corporate cheating being ignored for the sake of tribalism, crap commentary and punditry from second rate ex-players, Rod “who ran away and left his wife for a young’un” Liddle moaning about the promotion of women’s football and women generally, an oppressive abundance of corporate advertising and product placement, billions of impressions on Instagram, Twitter and TikTok to be farmed and fought for and mass fawning over displays of grotesque opulence and financial profligacy while match-going fans get gouged. But apart from all that – we fucking love it, don’t we?

I used to hope that the power of proper football returning – nobody cares about the abomination that was the Club World Cup – could stymie some from participating in the uglier social and political pre-occupations of the day. Thankfully most football fans sequester their politics from their football support or place the latter well above the former. We seldom see the overtly populist bullshit immigrant and Muslim demonization in and around football (especially if those immigrants and Muslims are high priced signings for your football club) that’s now so depressingly prevalent online (Rupert Lowe is a thick racist twat) and in the news. There’s also scant support on the terraces for the media and political class wingnuts harping on about petty culture war shite, which is another device to distract us the from the ongoing current economic extortion by their super-rich benefactors. In fact, the hyper-inflation in football, especially through ticket pricing, is one of the main venues where ordinary folk are visibly biting back, via protests, against the contemptuous greed of the rentier class.

Of less importance, will matches that matter reduce participation in the most depressing and degrading contemporary social media vices? Sadly, it’s baked in now that we get the worst of both worlds when games are on whilst the transfer window is still open. Who doesn’t love the perpetual mass displays of childish pathos when a defeat or draw occurs, the growing obsession with winning transfer windows, idiotic catastrophizing when they don’t (see Liverpool last season), fans of rival clubs gleaning genuine joy from reading inane whiny tweets from fans of rival clubs, the insatiable need to be seen to be right on the internet when arguing with avatars and strangers and simply not being good enough to ignore provocative clickbait tweets from cynical aggregator and or banter accounts with Stake sponsorships. My opinion of this dismal sub-culture, particularly those who populate it, is applicable to an acrimonious scenario from the brilliantly astute Deadwood, “we live life however we choose” a character offers as a banal appeasement, which elicits a deservedly hostile response “and you choose life as a cunt”.

Before we get to this season’s predictions a quick recap of my calamitous predictions from 2024/25, because this column exists for self-flagellation via humiliation. The only successes were Newcastle United getting Champions League football, albeit by finishing fifth, not fourth as I predicted, and Arsenal finishing second. Not that the latter is one to brag about. They’ve done that in each of the last three seasons.

As per usual I’ll pick the three who’ll be relegated, go over the Champions League contenders and pretenders and who’ll win the league – none of which I ever get right. Google tells me the opposite of the Midas touch is the Sadim touch, where everything you touch is ruined. At least this year I’ve acquired some knowledge while writing two-thousand words of nonsense.

Relegation:

When it comes to figuring out relegation having a predilection for shorter term trends, in this case a growing belief that the gulf in quality between the Championship and the Premier League grows every year, may be wise. Or at least wiser than a muppet using the percentage of promoted clubs staying up in the Premier League era, starting from the early nineties, to support the belief that one of them must survive, or was statistically likely to. And yeah, that muppet was me.

All three of the newly promoted sides have been relegated in each of the last two seasons, and not only that, with weeks to spare. Sunderland may have spent £100m, but Ipswich also spent heavily and went straight back down last season. The promoted sides are so comparatively weak that spending £100m guarantees nothing, well, it probably prevents them being as historically awful as Derby County accruing only eleven points in 2006/07.

Logic dictates that if nothing is guaranteed it’s not certain that this two-year run will become three and cement it as a trend. But it’s not just one of the promoted sides being good enough to compete, one of the ensconced Premier League teams has to drop off, significantly.

The best candidate is Brentford. Selling your top two goalscorers and replacing Thomas Frank with a set piece coach who has never managed before is a strategy that could easily dice with disaster. Everton and Wolves have been perennially woeful. Both sacked their managers in the middle of last season yet survived easily. Crystal Palace’s squad depth has been pared down aggressively and Glasner isn’t having it, but Palace going down? I’m not having that either.

It’ll be the three promoted sides for the chop again. It’s becoming boring. If we’re lucky we’ll get a decent dogfight till the end this season.

Top Four (maybe five?) and Thursday Night Wankers:

While it was welcome to see Nottingham Forest interloping in the fight for Champions League football, it was also clear that they were over their skis. This happens every decade or so – club avoids injuries, has a centre forward who goes on a hot streak, they defend a slender lead well with a low block, counter attack effectively, and win games they should draw, and draw games they should lose. It’s a formula that served Ipswich Town well in the mid-2000’s and most impressively and improbably of all Leicester City in 2016.

I’m not expecting any surprises in the European contenders this time. Amusing as it was to witness the calamitous league campaigns Spurs and Manchester United served up last season, the former hiring someone who actually subscribes to discipline and pragmatism in Thomas Frank and the latter spending £200m on forwards (just how much were the dinner ladies, admin team and cleaning staff getting paid at Carrington?) should restore them to top half respectability. While I’m not expecting either to challenge for the top four (or five) beyond February, they should contend with Villa and Brighton for the Europa League spots.

The top four faller will be Newcastle – it’s been a clown show all summer. The Saudis appear to be more invested in funding the transfer pyramid scheme at Chelsea through a minority stake. The horse punchers have no director of football, seem incapable of getting good players wanted by other top clubs to join them, their best player has downed tools and will probably exit before the end of the window and Jason “knockoff Patrick Bateman” Tindall is still using sunbeds in July. Eddie Howe to be beheaded by November.

The other prediction that I’m convinced of – Chelsea will finish above Arsenal, but neither will meaningfully challenge for the title. Despite Chelsea spending well over a billion quid (over fifty new players signed in three years) since Roman Abramovich was sanctioned, somehow the comatose Robert Sanchez is still in goal and they’ve accumulated a glut of unconvincing central defensive options. The greater weight of narrative expectation is clearly on Arsenal, from both their own fans and media after three runner-up finishes. This has to be the year, blood. While Viktor Gyökeres has flop written all over him, their big problem is still Mikel Arteta. Brattish metrosexuals may be a dislikable cohort (and it gave us that Ibiza Final Boss meme that became tiresome within five minutes), but good old Mikel just has to be a full-on fucking cunt too. It’s fitting that his behaviour is reflected in his tactics – insecure, defensive and cynical. His comments after Arsenal were comfortably eliminated by PSG in the Champions League semi-finals showed a worrying lack of humility and inability to introspect. Attributes that may come in handy when trying to decipher how to go from perpetual second place finishes to first.

My hostility is also informed by Arsenal having become a frustrating watch. They’re more than capable of playing with verve and potency, but instead they spend too much time focusing on the dark arts to their detriment; playing for fouls and corners, diving, moaning at referees and using a favorite weapon of that football genius Tony Pulis – long throws. There’s a lack of nerve too, when doubt creeps in they often retreat into a low block defensive posture. Until this crap changes I simply can’t see them winning the title, and it likely won’t until Arteta is replaced. Given how generously he’s been backed with time and money, a fourth placed finish and another trophyless season will surely see him in trouble.

Speaking of trouble, Manchester City continue to operate as though the charges levied against them by the Premier League for financial impropriety simply never happened. And you know what, I’m starting to think they could be right. Will we ever get a verdict?

A verdict about their team is easier – until last season’s decline the existing treble winning spine was able to cover up for the dirty wee secret that their recent recruitment, Erling Haaland aside, had been so unremarkable. Grealish has completely flopped, see what I did there? Guardiola seems incapable of identifying a viable right back to save his life. Doku and Savinho aren’t anywhere near the level of Mahrez or a prime Bernardo Silva. Allowing Julian Alvarez to leave last summer without a replacement was pure hubris.

Rodri returning will bolster confidence and Omar Marmoush has already shown himself to be far more incisive than the other dozen attacking midfielders on the books. It would also help if Phil Foden can remember he’s quite good at football.

So why second? Well, the defending champions are just better, particularly in goal, and have, on paper, gotten better in attack than last year’s successful version.

Champions:

I hadn’t heard of Arne Slot just over a year ago. We’d just had the Erik ten Hag experience too. Bald Dutch managers coming straight from the Eredivisie felt as reliable as hiring Ghislane Maxwell and Jeffrey Epstein to run an all-girls boarding school.

Stranger still, Liverpool spent little, won the league and have now broken the English transfer record. This isn’t the order in which success is achieved according to the experts on social media. Slot’s achievement is even more impressive than Arsene Wenger coming from being Big In Japan and winning the league in his first full season. Wenger arrived at Arsenal a few weeks into the 1996-97 season, giving him the benefit of almost a full year to bed in and get the measure of things. Slot was taking over from the messianic Jürgen Klopp too, but he made it all look straightforward. It proves that having the right manager or head coach paired with a cogent transfer strategy still matters more than spending gazillions.

The only doubts here is a catastrophic age related drop off for Van Dijk and Salah, a cluster of injuries in one position, or making too many personnel changes to a winning formula. We’re at roughly two-thousand words now, so I’ll stop before I talk myself out of picking them to repeat.

Predicted Table:

1. Liverpool

2. Manchester City

3. Chelsea

4. Arsenal

5. Aston Villa

6. Manchester United

7. Brighton & Hove Albion

8. Tottenham Hotspur

9. Newcastle United

10. Nottingham Forest

11. Bournemouth

12. Fulham

13. West Ham United

14. Crystal Palace

15. Everton

16. Wolverhampton Wanderers

17. Brentford

18. Leeds United

19. Sunderland

20. Burnley

Posted in Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Song Of The Day – Moksha by Richard Sen

From the album “India Man” (2024)

Posted in Song Of The Day | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment