Home again, home again
There are some things in life that I’ll just never quite understand. Grown men enjoying Pink. Owning more than two pairs of usable shoes. Rugby.
Today I have added Playstation Home to the list.
Apparently it’s a bit like Second Life, which I’ve never looked at. In fact, I always had the sneaking suspicion that Second Life was invented by cultural studies students so that they’d have something in cyberspace more interesting to talk about than chat rooms. So it’s a little disturbing to take a step into this peculiar world — a world which for all I could see was completely pointless. A step into the unknown. How exciting it would be.
Well, first I pressed the button that said “Playstation Home”. That was pretty exciting right there. I’d previously downloaded the program when it was released, attempted to run it, and found that connection issues prevented me from even entering. Not a good start. Now, months later, I try again and find that there’s a system update. No worries I think, lulled by the efficiency of updates on the Xbox 360. Hah. 5 minutes I wait for the progress bars to dance their merry yet predictable dance across the screen. Then we’re in. Right?
Well, no. Then I get to go to a new and entirely different progress bar when I eventually launch the game. It’s caching vital elements, or somesuch. I can’t argue with that. Vital elements are vital. Any fool knows that. More minutes pass. It’s just as exciting as I knew it would be. Finally the caching is finished. Thank goodness. It’s time to enter Playstation Home.
Oh no, wait on. Another progress bar. I appear to be downloading my home, which is a studio. Sounds swanky. More minutes.
It turns out my room is swanky. It is also very small. I have entered a thrilling virtual world to find out that my house is pokier than my actual house, and lacks a bedroom, or kitchen, or any sort of room. It does have a sweet view, I can’t deny that. It also has some very bland furniture. I try to put a TV in — my first instinct in any house — but it appears I don’t have a TV. Dear god. I’d slit my virtual wrists if I could find the right button. After wandering up and down my porch and moving the couch to and fro, I decide it’s time to go outside. The helpful door informs me that the world outside is about 40mb and needs to be downloaded before I go out. It kindly suggests that I could download it in the background.
I kindly suggest that it could have started downloading it in the background while I was wandering about my tiny tiny room. Where else was I going to go? But it’s not listening, because it’s a door.
I eventually go outside. There’s a poster which I can look at, but it’s blank; completely black. Let me get this straight. You spent three minutes downloading 40mb of outsideyness, and that didn’t even include the posters? I keep walking. I see a bowling alley in front of me. Ooooh, I’ll wander over there. Ah. More downloading. Background please. Thanks. I wander further. I’ve got time to kill. My movements are jerky and strained for a while, as the download of the bowling alley appears to be taking priority over simple movement. This makes me grumpy and I’m thinking of turning off the console when a virtual person walks past.
“Hi fatso.”
I’ve been in Playstation Home for about 10 minutes, and my avatar is already getting bullied by random people. I’m not even fat; I only slightly raised the weight of the avatar above the median default value. I’m just big-polygonned. It’s enough to make you want to start taking cultural studies. Which is how you know something is wrong. Just as the bowling alley helpfully advises me that it’s ready for me now, I turn it off.
I’m sure once you’ve downloaded a whole bunch of Playstation Home, it becomes a lot more seamless. I’m just not clear what on earth would make someone want to keep exploring after a first-run experience including six progress bars and no discernible entertainment. So: it’s just one of those things then.