"how can you drink hot coffee in the middle of summer?"
fire cannot kill a dragon
I don’t think I ever showed you guys this but we have a dog named Booker and this is his tag.
listen you boutta have the thickest smoodie of all time, where is your liquid? your ice? weak ass aesthetics, try again
smh they leave the strawberry tops on… might as well leave the gotdam banana peels onu can eat strawberry tops… & recent studies are showing banana peels are healthy n nutritious for u:…. The turntables
n im sure the outside of a coconut is mad high in fiber but im not bout ta eat woodchips cause of no govermence scienticians
This is the best thing I have seen all day
In the third act of Kentucky Route Zero, when Conway and his ragtag group of companions enter the Lower Depths tavern, it’s supposed to be a simple detour—one borne more out of necessity than by choice. But if there’s any recurring theme throughout the three acts of Cardboard Computer’s seminal and increasingly significant game it’s that sometimes the most important moments—the revelations you search desperately for—come where you least expect them, trapped in a haunted mine or a desolate dive bar under the quiet of the open night sky.
Junebug and Johnny’s performance of “Too Late to Love You” to an almost empty tavern forms the musical centerpiece of Kentucky Route Zero’s latest act. The ambient piece with its minimal beat, swirling orchestral flourishes and emotive vocals encapsulates the ethereal beauty that lies at the heart of this game. It is here that the magical realist adventure finally lays bare the opaque heart filled with vague, amorphous intentions, giving the clearest hints of how its internal machinations work.
In more than a few ways, taking a left-of-center detour from the main plot that concludes with a musical set-piece puts this scene in direct comparison with Final Fantasy VI’s famous opera scene. Both narrow their focus onto the aesthetic elements and reduce player interaction to purely text-based choices, capturing a microcosm of a larger truth through a magical musical performance. The larger truth here, at least from the game’s context, is how differently each treats player choice within the context of their linear narratives.
In the opera scene, the player has to rehearse lines from a script before performing them on-stage as Celes. The choices are reduced to simple right or wrong—where much like the rest of the series, the games aren’t interested in the motivation or intention of the player who made them. In Final Fantasy, players embody these characters who are essentially chained to the script themselves, the game too absorbed with its own narration to bother inviting the player into that process.
Kentucky Route Zero’s musical centerpiece is similarly linear albeit with a key difference—the three choices you are offered at specific points in the song are of subtly different tones and moods.
THE SONG AS A METAPHOR FOR HOW YOU PLAY THE GAME