Virtual Dork: South Park Stick of Truth Review

There is a moment, after you've vanquished a member of a rival faction using an arsenal of farts, Cheesy Poofs and magic 8-ball-handed weapons, when you, as the "new kid" in South Park, witness a familiar cast of characters bickering over how to take down their greatest foe.

"Suck my e-e-e-elven dick, Butters," Jimmy Valmer says on the screen in front of you, perfectly framed as only the construction-paper inspired animation of Trey Parker and Matt Stone can be.

It is these moments that elevate South Park: Stick of Truth above a normal licensed game. The script was written by Parker and Stone. The game was made using resources from South Park Studios' animation team. All of the voice actors (including Isaac Hayes in a brief cameo) are here. This looks and sounds exactly like an episode of South Park should.

It's only a pity that, under the hood, Stick of Truth is an exceptionally easy title with little reason for multiple playthroughs. While the South Park fan in you will squeal with joy as you battle Al Gore and try to beat back the flaming farts of Wizard Cartman, the nonsensical ending and shallow gameplay keep Stick of Truth from being a truly great video game, although it's undoubtedly a wonderful narrative experience (with some caveats).

You begin the game as the "new kid," moving in to a home on the same block as series regulars Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormack and Kyle Broflovski. You quickly join forces with Butters Stotch, who informs you of the game du jour in the neighborhood. The conceit, a mystical RPG quest with fantastical elements, is drop dead similar to the narrative sheen that ran through last fall's "Black Friday" trilogy on the show. Cartman and Butters are members of the human guild, while Stan and Kyle do battle as knights of the elven faction.

After creating your character, you learn from parents (who share your physical traits) that there is something just not right about you. Unfortunately, what is one of the most interesting and novel story quirks in the game gets dismissed in a trivial and surprisingly uninteresting and unfunny cutscene toward the end of the game featuring an eye-patched, shadowy government figure.

Your journey will take you to all the staple locations in South Park: Skeeter's Bar, Jimbo's Gun shop, City Wok, Tom's Rhinoplasty and the abortion clinic. Throughout the game's roughly 15-hour playtime, you'll run into all the classic characters, who you can "friend" through the game's Facebook system. As you gain friends and experience points, you'll be able to add perks and abilities that increase your powers in turn-based combat that hearkens back to the old days of Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy.

Unfortunately, that combat is relatively uninspired. While there are some fun elemental quirks to the game that you can use to turn the tide in your favor when the combat screen does appear, most of the fights are winnable using a simple pattern of actions, and because there is no limitation on the amount of items you can carry and stockpiling combat potions is merely an exercise in searching for cash, strategy goes out the window in the second half of the game.

As a thief, I was granted a basically game-breaking ability early on to stun the most powerful enemies while I picked off minions. Using Butters' "Healing Touch" ability, I was able to win almost all fights in the game following a relatively simple pattern once I had a level 10 weapon. Combat becomes a slog to get to the next brilliantly written cutscene.

That is, until the end of the game, when you're forced into a series of battles that increasingly make little sense and the difficulty factor is artificially inflated. Without spoiling the ending, I can say that the final climactic scene can be seen coming from a mile away, something that is relatively unconscionable for a series and writers known to toy with the absurd in pursuit of satire.

Despite my poo-poohing, Stick of Truth is an extremely fun romp through America's finest source of scatological satire. Fans of Matt and Trey's work should not miss the opportunity to visit this quiet little redneck mountain town and relive some of their favorite experiences from the long-running series. However, I would advise against paying the full price. Wait for a discount for your trip to Colorado.

Verdict: 3/5 stars

A Goober Does Sociology

This morning, I happened across a thought-provoking piece in the New York Times written by Sheryl Gray Stolberg that attempts to explain why political sex scandals occur almost exclusively to male office-holders. The simplest answers--that men outnumber women in Congress by a margin of greater than 4:1 and that positions of political, economic and social power long-held by men may increase a need for a "quick-fix" self-esteem boost enabled by meaningless intimacy--are addressed in Stolberg's piece but ultimately cast aside in favor of a type of moralistic argument that illustrates, in conjunction with several recent high-profile scandals running wild in the media, the necessity of a public myth that our pop culture heroes still possess the possibility of being motivated completely by altruistic means.

Stolberg quotes Debbie Walsh, director of the Center for American Women and Politics at Rutgers University, who states, "The shorthand of it is that women run for office to do something, and men run for office to be somebody." To selectively quote Walsh here may do a disservice to the research conducted by the Center. Certainly, in reality, there are men and women present in the current Congress who have to defy this simple dichotomous explanation of the motivations of the sexes in politics. Yet, Walsh's statement illustrates vividly the optimistic American belief that our politicians can be altruistic servants of the common good, as originally envisioned by the Founding Fathers. In those days, the Presidency wasn't a position one aspired toward, it was a grave responsibility that was assumed as a kind of selfless public service. Washington didn't step down in 1796 to go on an extended tour of lucrative speaking engagements, and in some ways the statement made by Walsh and the outcry against Jonathan Edwards' current campaign finance scandal (leaving the despicable nature of his personal infidelity out of the equation) indicate a revulsion to the current career-minded politician and a nostalgic desire to return to the days when servitude and integrity were placed before advancement.

A few weeks ago, I posted a review of David Foster Wallace's long essay "Up, Simba" to this blog in which the author grappled with this very issue much more adeptly than I could hope to. Arguably, the sex scandals of the past few weeks have only intensified Wallace's observations about the salesman mystique of the modern American politician, and Walsh's piece published this morning throws a gender-specific slant on the kind of nostalgic hope present in the American public that politics can still be self-less and not ironically self-aware.

It occurred to me, as I was reading Walsh's article, that politics are not the only arena in which we (both the public and those in positions of fame) cling to perhaps outmoded archetypes. The current scandal at Ohio State, already covered on this blog and to the point of nausea in the sports media, contains all the elements of similar scandals occurring in the political arena. Jim Tressel cultivated a public personality of selflessness and virtue, while accepting a salary bloated to levels of Solomon-like excess and turning a blind eye to the ethical violations of his athletes. The current year-long backlash against LeBron James (of which, I admit, I am a passionate participant) is fueled by some kind of ancient code of honor that honestly should never have lasted past the free agency era in any sport. Collectively, as a society, we are aware of these virtuous archetypes and use them as helpful narratives to keep us from becoming, as this past week's episode of South Park so poignantly reminded us, "cynical assholes."

We need these symbols of unquestioned virtue in all aspects of our culture, whether true or false, to keep us from believing that our society is in an apparent moral and spiritual decline. And, certainly, there are instances in which the narratives prove true. At the same time, we should not allow a comforting story to obscure the truth about ourselves and what the world around us has become because we are afraid to admit the consequences brought about by social media, frenzied election cycles, or the unrelenting pursuit of wealth in a global capitalist economy.