Pokemon Generation 9 is a Step in the Right Direction

It used to be that I didn’t pay a whole lot of mind to Pokemon games.  Oh, I played most of them, sure, and even occasionally mustered up enough effort to complain about their flaws, be they trivial or serious.  But ultimately, the main-line installments in the Pokemon series were defined by consistent low-effort stories that said nothing, enacted by casts of flat NPCs and silent protagonists, and which only included the very namesakes of the franchise in the capacity of plot devices, collectibles, and lore scenery.  For 2 decades, Pokemon games were transparently nothing but Nintendo’s way of printing money every now and then.  Some like Generation 1 were more boring than others, some like Generation 3 were more stupid than others, and some like Generation 4 gave a token effort to do something with themselves, but ultimately they were all subpar as RPGs go, to put it a bit generously.  Highly ignorable as a whole.

Simpler times.

Because then 2016 rolled around, and for its 20th anniversary with the series, Nintendo went and did the unthinkable: they released an actual, genuine, all-around great game in the Pokemon series.  Generation 7 had a story with nuance, legitimate heart, and sincere purpose, told through the vehicle of a great main character and a compelling villain with some depth, and defined itself by their dichotomy.  Generation 7 also fulfilled its quota of new Pokemon, a new region, and even gave that region an interesting place in the world that expanded the franchise’s lore pleasingly.  But the main quality of note was definitely the fact that it told a well-written, gripping, thoughtfully emotional story of independence, love powerful enough to forgive, the heroism born when those qualities meet, and expressed itself through a colorful cast with a lot of personality.  There was even the seed of a promising new perspective on the titular Pokemon and what their place should be.  Generation 7 was so great that, suddenly, Pokemon was something I could actually give a shit about.

So of course, the next installment of the series turned out to be the most vapid, hands-off, lazy non-story the series has yet seen.  I’ve made my complaints known about Generation 8 on more than 1 occasion, but suffice to say that it was the absence of every quality that makes an RPG even remotely worth playing, and proud of being so.  Nintendo and Game Freak didn’t just go back on the progress that Generation 7 had made, they reversed it so hard that they wound up at a lower, lousier level than they’d even started at.

Thankfully, though, Pokemon Scarlet and Violet have actually managed to reach down into the hole that Generation 8 dug for itself, and haul the series back up.  Not to the height that Generation 7 achieved, of course, or really even anywhere close to it, but at least we’re back above-ground at this point.

Generation 9 involves an actual story you get to participate in, for starters.  Not the journey to beat all the Gym Leaders and become Champion so much, of course.  That’s just the same bland, pointless filler it’s always been, punctuated by Nemona, a rival so 1-dimensional in her obsession with battles that even the largely parodical Big Bull of Okage would tell her to get a damn hobby, and Geeta, a Champion who’s generic and forgettable to an extreme fault.  On the other hand, she’s not Leon, so I guess she still represents a huge step up from last time.  But besides the regular, canned Pokemon journey, Generation 9 also focuses on a story about investigating the delinquent student group known as Team Star and hauling their asses back to class, and a story about getting ingredients to make sandwiches for a dog.

And okay, yeah, those don’t sound terrifically interesting, admittedly.  But learning the history behind Team Star actually turns the ordeal into a halfway decent story of regret, friendship, and the failure of the system to do right by those on the fringe of society.  And procuring ingredients winds up having the player participate in a plot with some poignant pathos as Arven pursues his plan to restore the health of his Pokemon pup who was injured while protecting Arven.  This one’s particularly good, as it’s a decent story in its own right, it actually follows through on Nintendo’s “they’re partners that we value and grow together with, not gladiatorial slave animals!” narrative, and it establishes Arven’s character very well, which is important since he’s the guy with a significant connection to Professor Sada or Turo, the main figure of the final, overarching story of the Paldea region.

And speaking of, the last arc in which the truth of Sada/Turo is revealed is pretty decent, too.  It may not ultimately be all that truly meaningful and poignant in actuality, nor Sada/Turo all that impressive an antagonist, but it manages to sell itself as such pretty effectively with its atmosphere and earnestness.  The line between the moron in Generation 9 who aimed to completely destroy the ecosystem with temporally-displaced invasive species and the the morons in Generation 3 who aimed to completely destroy the ecosystem by fucking around with land/ocean distribution ratios may be thin at best, but unlike the joke that is Generation 3’s main plot and villains, Generation 9 goes as hard as it possibly can to make this seem like a more epic finale to a long quest than it actually is, and it does actually pay off to a decent degree.  The final confrontation with Sada/Turo feels compelling, and the preamble setting of the Great Crater helps get the player into it.  The final arc of Generation 9 also represents a decent (if a little too understated) conclusion to Arven’s personal story, and also a good finish to the story of the protagonist’s partner Koraidon/Miraidon.

And yeah, I’m also pleased that a major character of the game’s story, one which is actually dynamic and has a relevant part to play as more than just as a plot device, is the main legendary Pokemon of the generation.  This is the third game in a row that has finally begun treating its series’s namesakes as characters, not just objects, with their own stories and personal development to achieve,* and it does so both in its main story and in 1 of its DLC ventures, so I’m very pleased with Generation 9 on that front, and I hope that this indicates that Nintendo has decided that Pokemon being important characters in their own damn games is now a series standard.

Honestly, there’s a lot to like about Pokemon Scarlet and Violet.  There actually seems to be some enthusiasm to the manner in which Generation 9 portrays and makes use of its setting (that being a Spain-inspired region), as it incorporates some occasional Spanish into its dialogue, and even makes a pun out of Team Star’s catchphrase “hasta la vistar.”  The DLC is overall pretty good--not something I can recommend buying due to being grossly overpriced, but still, way better than Generation 8’s, and, for that matter, Nintendo’s overall standard of quality for its games’ add-ons.  Even if I’m lukewarm on Penny, and Nemona is just an obsessive idiot, the overall dynamic of camaraderie between Juliana’s friend group by the end of the game is really appealing.**  The soundtrack is pretty decent, and even if there’s not a lot of tunes I really love, it definitely knows how to set its mood when it’s most important to do so (particularly through the final dungeon and finale).***

Sure, Generation 9 isn’t without its failings.  The character designs are pretty lackluster and few major characters, fewer Gym Leaders, and only half the Elite 4 stand out at all, whether visually or by gimmick.  And while there have certainly been worse generations for this, I can’t say that the Pokemon that Generation 9 introduces are too terribly interesting in my eyes--Koraidon and Miraidon are decently cool, and Ogerpon and Terapogos are both very cute, but not a lot else caught my attention.  And lastly, it’s buggier than it has any right to be, a problem which has unfortunately earned it a lot of scorn and dismissal by gamers.

But character design is a pretty minor and unimportant flaw, and Pokemon design is really only slightly worse a thing to flub.  Technical failings are frustrating, but the game is still very playable; it’s thankfully not the kind of mess you’d expect (and have that expectation met a dozen times over) from Bethesda, for example.  And such a buggy state is a symptom of bad management and unrealistic deadlines, whereas a tasteless nothingburger story like that of Pokemon Sword and Shield simply represents an outright bad game, one whose creators clearly didn’t give a shit about.  If I HAVE to choose between an RPG with merit that doesn’t function on a technical level as well as it should, and a worthless RPG that works perfectly but can offer nothing but wasted time, you can bet I’m gonna pick the former, so to me, Generation 9’s still a tremendous leap forward from Generation 8 even at its lowest moments.

Pokemon Scarlet and Violet’s not Pokemon Moon and Sun, not by a long shot.  But Generation 9 is still a pretty good game in its own right, the second best RPG the main Pokemon series has to offer (hell, just the second good one it’s produced).  And after having Leon shove me away from experiencing an actual story for 95% of Generation 8, and finding the contents of that last pathetic gasp 5% to be stupid and boring, you can bet that I find Generation 9’s fairly good plot, decent cast, and earnest attempt at quality to be a huge relief.  There’s every chance that the next mainline Pokemon game will be a return to subpar quality, but Generation 9 at least has shown that there’s cause for hope, that climbing out of the gaping landfill of Generation 8 wasn’t an insurmountable task.  Good work to Nintendo and Game Freak for Pokemon Scarlet and Violet!












* Granted, Generation 8 only did this in its DLCs, but that’s still more than Generations 1 - 6 bothered with.  And heaven knows Sword and Shield needs what little credit it can get for doing anything right.


** Although really, just about anything would be better than having to go through another game of Hop forcing his way into every single situation you come across.


*** Admittedly, this isn’t really a step up from the last game.  Generation 8 shares that curious quality with so many others like Chrono Cross, Final Fantasy Mystic Quest, and Final Fantasy 5, wherein a really bad RPG somehow manages to have an absolutely banging soundtrack.  Still, at least Generation 9 isn’t a noticeable drop in musical quality, personal tastes notwithstanding.

Pokemon Generation 9's Add-Ons

I genuinely have no idea what I feel right now.  Normally I’m pessimistic going into a game’s downloadable content, particularly for a Nintendo venture, but my last foray into a Nintendo RPG’s DLC suite was actually pretty positive.  So maybe I should be optimistic!  On the other hand, the add-ons for the last Pokemon game were predictably bad, and that was both more recent and for the same series, so likely there’s more call for pessimism.  Then again, bad though they were, Generation 8 was such irredeemable, lazy trash as a whole that its merely regular-bad DLCs were nonetheless its best quality!

Meh, I guess the answer is to stop waffling and just get started already.  Here we go!



The Teal Mask: This little adventure sees the protagonist go on an extended field trip to a new area in the countryside, and partake in a quest to exonerate a Pokemon that’s been wrongly vilified by the nearby village for ages.  It’s a mixed bag, but pleasant overall.  On the upside, the primary new characters involved are decent (Carmine is, in fact, strangely very likable to me), and the overall plot has a pleasant feeling of authenticity to its theme of local legends, traditions, and festivals; it seems like the kind of story that could have been an arc in Okami.  I also find it interesting that an element of the backstory to this DLC’s town is that a friendly and well-meaning stranger and his Pokemon were chased out of town for the fact that they looked different, while a trio of thieving, violent charlatans who looked more “normal” were embraced by the community and even eventually venerated as heroes--this year I’ve played Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 5 and watched I’m in Love with the Villainess, and I’m starting to get the distinct impression that the creatives of Japan are rapidly losing their patience and abandoning light touches and analogies in favor of direct, outright criticisms of the problems of their society.

Most of all, I approve of making a story that involves its lead Pokemon as a major participant, an actual character, rather than just a non-entity that amounts to no more than a prize.  This trend of valuing the occasional Pokemon as an actor in the drama that Generation 7 began with Nebbie, Generation 8 very lightly continued in its DLCs with Kubfu and Calyrex, and Generation 9 incorporated with Koraidon and Miraidon, is probably at its best here with Ogerpon.  She actually does have a bit of a personality, and a character arc, and I approve of each tiny little step Nintendo takes (even if unintentional) towards an eventuality where Pokemon games actually value and are about Pokemon, as entities.  As an individual that you actually assist, who’s shown to have her own feelings and opinions, and, hugely, one who gets to actually choose to become the protagonist’s partner out of her own goddamn free will, Ogerpon’s a great possible step forward for the franchise in terms of its narrative potential.  Doubtless it won’t come to anything for a long while, if ever--I’m done with my previous naive optimism about that--but it’s still good to see.  Oh, and the fight against Ogerpon to prove that you’re worthy of her is actually pretty cool, even epic.

But there are downsides to The Teal Mask, too.  While plenty of older Pokemon are added to Generation 9 through this DLC, there are very few outright new Pokemon to be found, and most of them are pretty dumb.  I can’t believe that the fucking apple pie Pokemon is no longer the dumbest version of its evolutionary family, and a matcha tea Pokemon?  Really?  Actually fucking really?  Nintendo really looked at their keyring Pokemon and said to itself, “I know I can never recapture the magic of Garbodor, but I think I can still do worse than this”?  And, related, the villains of this piece are pretty lame, too, which lessens the story of Ogerpon’s vindication a bit.

I also will say that the way this add-on’s story concludes is, on a certain level, dissatisfying.  To me, it feels wrong that Ogerpon chooses to go gallivanting off with Juliana/Florian.  Sure, she/he has helped Ogerpon defeat the Loyal 3 and clear her name, and been a friend to the Pokemon after presumably centuries of loneliness.  But Kieran also assisted and was only not involved from the start because his sister made the dumbass decision not to tell him about what was going on, and whereas Juliana/Florian just blew into town earlier this week, Kieran has spent his whole life feeling instinctive sympathy for the maligned Ogerpon, and trying to find and befriend her.  It feels like Juliana/Florian just inserted her/himself into someone else’s heartwarming Pokemon story, and yoinked the happy ending to it for her/his own.  I understand that this ending is needed to set up Kieran’s going all Vegeta on us* in the next DLC, and I even actually respect some of the intent behind that, but it still feels like an unfair and out-of-place turn of events.

Still, as a whole, I actually like this add-on well enough.  I’m not going to judge whether or not it’s worth buying just yet, though, because all of Pokemon Generation 9’s add-ons are sold together rather than separately, so we’ll hold off on figuring that out until the end.  Still, there’s reason for at least a little optimism!


The Indigo Disk: This DLC package is a continuation of the story of The Teal Mask, in which the protagonist gets involved in an exchange program with another academy, notably the one that Carmine and Kieran attend.  And I have to say, I’m impressed with the amount of content to be found.  There’s a lot to The Indigo Disk!

You start off with a storyline where you find out that since losing his match to Juliana/Florian and watching Ogerpon choose her/him over Kieran, the kid’s adopted a try-hard anime tough-guy attitude, and made his school’s Pokemon training club a no-fun zone.  It’s the protagonist’s job to battle her/his way up the ranks to challenge and defeat Kieran in order to knock some sense into him and restore his club to being about the fun kind of competition, which...well, it’s not exactly an interesting premise, but on the other hand, “beat some trainers, beat the champion, be the best” is the boring default of Pokemon narratives anyway, so just the fact that The Indigo Disk bothered to create a reason for becoming the academy Champion beyond “Because it’s there!” or “Because it’ll shut Nemona up!” is at least a step in the right direction.

Besides, I happen to very much like the idea of Kieran, a regular guy, being pushed over the edge because he can recognize the gross, cosmic unfairness of Protagonist Privilege.  It’s not just Ogerpon--Juliana/Florian gets the best Pokemon, she/he gets to travel as she/he pleases, everyone seems to like her off the bat or becomes her friend through, let’s face it, very little real effort...meanwhile, Kieran’s stuck as an introverted kid limited by reality in what he can achieve, forced to give up on a Pokemon he had a legitimate emotional claim to for no apparent reason beyond the fact that it’s a 1-of-a-kind and thus HAS to belong to the player.  I like it when games force us to look at our player privilege and confront that our demands of wish-fulfillment from games might in fact be an unhealthy, destructive kind of mindset and behavior.  It’s not Undertale or Doki Doki Literature Club or Nier: Automata, but this story of Kieran’s frustration still clearly touches upon this notion of looking at ourselves as players and asking critical questions.

Unfortunately, the resolution to this is basically just Kieran seeing the danger his fixation caused, and giving up on beating Juliana and asserting himself over the Player Character.  Turning away from obsession is a good thing, of course, but at the same time, it feels like Nintendo was approaching a thoughtful discourse but chickened out before anything could be meaningfully explored--not an unknown phenomenon when it comes to Pokemon.  A more brave and passionate creator would have done interesting things with this scenario, but Nintendo clings to Pokemon’s status quo the way Bethesda clings to its Creation engine--unreasonably and to the expense of its own creations.

Still, both parts of The Indigo Disk’s story are okay enough, and there’s a LOT that comes with them.  The first part necessitates traveling through a large, multi-biome conservatory as big as any given zone of the main game, to challenge a new stable of Elite 4 in both minigames and actual battle, which is a sizable endeavor.  The new Elite 4 also have a little personality to them,** too, which frankly I thought was really lacking in the Gym Leaders of Generation 9’s main game.  Combine that with the second part of the DLC being an exploration of a sizable cave below Area 0, and you have an add-on with a pretty wide scope overall.

The new Pokemon are mostly pretty cool (and Terapogos is adorable).  A new sidequest is added where you help Team Star with some tutoring...it’s a pretty decent little side thing that helps better expand and cement their personalities and team dynamic, which is a positive gesture since they really didn’t get as much characterization in the main quest as they probably should have.  And there’s a ton of new cosmetics and emotes, if you actually care about that.  Sadly, most of the ones you can get at auction are stupid, but at least you can be Cyclops now.

Finally, there’s also, when you’ve finished the main story, a secret post-story scene you can find at the Crystal Lake from The Teal Mask involving the game’s professor.  It somehow feels very meaningful and significant, even though Sada is, really, merely a long-gone villainous legacy.  The fact that a scene with her can make such a poignant and positive impression is interesting, really.  Regardless, it’s a nice experience.

So yeah, there’s a LOT of content in The Indigo Disk.  I’m genuinely, pleasantly surprised by how much there is to do in it; this add-on is really more like an expansion than a typical downloadable content.  And it even has some deft touches of flavor and creative care here and there along the way--I really like the fact that if you bring Ogerpon out when battling Carmine, she’ll recognize it and comment on it, and that if you use Ogerpon during the battle with Kieran, he’ll likewise see her and react with strong hurt and anger.  Pokemon REALLY needs to incorporate little personal touches like this in its major battles more often; it added such great, raw drama to the battle!

With a lot of content, a reasonably okay story for Kieran (even if it did disappoint by not living up to what it could have been), a few cool new Pokemon, and some laudable care put into its method, I think it’s safe to conclude that The Indigo Disk is actually a pretty good DLC, too.  I think I liked The Teal Mask a little more simply because I think Ogerpon’s story is a bit better, but things are still looking optimistic.


Mochi Mayhem: This is so fucking dumb.  Like...holy shit, this is so.  Fucking.  DUMB.

Okay, so this DLC is a mini-adventure that takes place as an epilogue to The Teal Mask and The Indigo Disk.  In this add-on, Juliana/Florian’s friends from the main story of Generation 9 (Nemona, Arven, and Penny) come along with Juliana/Florian to meet up with her/his friends from the DLC story (Carmine and Kieran) and hang out.  And that’s actually a pretty good concept for a little finale episode to Generation 9!  Because the protagonist’s connections to both friend groups formed the backbone for each of Generation 9’s major stories--Juliana’s story has been that of forming friendships and both helping and being helped by those friends.  It feels very right to bring the 2 groups together and to have that be the ending note of this game.

But then once that’s going on, this thing happens where people are eating purple mochi that turn them into a Pokemon’s mind-controlled zombies who do...who...who do the...the funky chicken dance as they shout “Mochi Mochi” and try to battle you.  As the rest of Juliana/Florian’s friends are controlled, it’s up to her/him and Kieran to defeat the Pokemon causing it.

This is a fetish thing, isn’t it?  That’s the only explanation I can really think of.  Someone on the Generation 9 team has a weird kink for mind-controlled girls doing weird little dances, and the rest of the writers finally let them have a turn at the script to shut them up.  There’s just no way something this fucking dumb and bizarrely out there came about from anything other than some deeply buried tag on Archive of Our Own.  I’d stake half of my entire readership on it.***

That said, even if it’s dumb as hell, I suppose it’s harmlessly silly-dumb, and thus, I guess, not really bad, per say.  But it does kind of suck that something this weak is the last impression of the game you’re left with.  Also a little annoying that, as the first one affected, there’s basically no Carmine in this DLC; she already had to take a decidedly backseat role in The Indigo Disk to Kieran’s story, so it would have been much better to have switched her and Kieran’s role in this so that she’s the one helping Juliana/Florian through to the end and Kieran’s Patient 0, balance things out a bit.  But eh, whatever.  This thing’s barely worth the time it takes to play it.


Purchase or Purse-Pass?  So here’s the thing.  Is The Teal Mask pretty good?  Yeah.  Is The Indigo Disk also pretty good?  Yes.  Is Mochi Mayhem at least not a net negative?  Ehhhhh, I guess.  But are they good overall and going to provide you with 35 hours of gameplay?

No.

And that’s the problem.  All in all, the combined content of Pokemon Generation 9’s add-ons is probably gonna give you between 20 and 25 hours of gameplay.  Which is a TON!  This absolutely should be viewed as an expansion and no less.  But the combined cost is a staggering $35.  Over half the cost of the actual game!  And I’m just not ready to abandon the metric of $1 = 1 hour of content for DLCs.  That day is coming, but it’s not here, and even when it gets here, it’ll still probably have a hard time justifying this particular purchase.

Still, this expansion package IS good as a whole, and I genuinely like a lot of it, so I can at least say that when it’s on sale or its price has dropped to $25 or lower, then it’ll be worth the price.



Well, even if I can’t recommend it as of this moment, the quality of Pokemon Generation 9’s add-ons is generally positive, and that by itself is a pretty unusual occurrence when it comes to DLC, so all said, I’m pretty pleased with this state of affairs.  I’ve no doubt that the good mood that Fire Emblem 15’s DLC put me in won’t last for much longer, but it’s certainly nice that it’s managed to prolong for more than a single game.  Who knows, maybe we’ll even be able to start a streak of good add-on experiences!











* I don’t get it when Pokemon trainers start talking about becoming stronger.  With the exception of Bea, who is actually fucking hardcore...they’re not.  Their strength has absolutely nothing to do with Pokemon battling; it’s the damn Pokemon who do everything and whose strength is tested.  The most personal strength you contribute to any given Pokemon match is simply having the physical capacity to lightly toss a ball onto the ground a few feet away, asshole, so take your scrawny little kid physique over to the corner, shut the fuck up, and stop trying to take credit for the ones actually putting in the work.


** Crispin’s kind of an idiot, though.  These are 2 actual quotes by the man:

“I love battles and I love cooking ‘cause they’re both so easy to understand!  In battles, you either win or lose!  With cooking, your dish is either spicy or not spicy!”  
“I’ve got no clue how to manage the temperature of anything besides what I’m cooking.”

Crispin, your entire existence is defined by 2 things: being a Fire Type trainer, and having a frying pan.  And you have basically just told us that you should never, ever be allowed near either.


*** You hear that, Ecclesiastes?  We’re slicing you right down the middle if I turn out to be wrong.

Pokemon Generation 8's Leon is a Jackass

Not every Pokemon Champion is all that impressive.  Lord knows that Lance and Alder never impressed me in the slightest, for example, and I actually just had to look up who the Champion of Generation 3 was to remind myself.  Which didn’t even work; I know what he looks like and what his name is, but I still don’t remember a thing about him.  So yeah, they can’t all be Cynthia.  But that’s no excuse for Leon.

Leon is a putz.  A schmuck.  An incompetent, braindead doofus whose existence has actively worsened his entire nation.  The guy is an embarrassing, tiresome excuse for a Champion, and represents a painfully obvious case of Trying Too Hard on Nintendo’s part.

Let’s just get it out of the way first: I was never gonna like the guy, because he’s the most notable entity forcing the protagonist to stay out of the plot of their own game.  If the slightest possibility of actually taking part in the game’s story arises and Leon’s around, you can bet your last dollar that Leon’s gonna be the one to enthusiastically shoo the player off, insisting the protagonist concentrate solely on their little sports challenges.  Leon and I weren’t going to get along, ever, because he is dedicated to keeping me away from the entire reason I’m playing the game.

Still, it can’t just be me, right?  I mean, the guy is a rank amateur!  As a Pokemon trainer, Leon reminds me of Eleanor Silverburg from Suikoden 4: overrated, and constantly lauded by all around him for possessing nothing more than basic competency.  You’d have a difficult time arguing that he’s anywhere but the absolute bottom of the Champions in terms of basic in-combat ability, and his dialogue certainly seems to back that up.  “Super effective hits are a surefire path to victory!” he’ll proudly inform you, as you battle him for the title of greatest trainer in the region.  Cynthia set and manipulated battle conditions to give herself advantages half a dozen turns in advance--meanwhile, Leon over here knows how to follow the advice of a tutorial NPC.  So impressive.

I also like the part during the final battle where, if he scores a critical hit, he’ll reassure the protagonist not to focus on it, and keep going ahead.  It’s like...yeah, okay, thanks again for the tutorial during the final battle, dick.  Yup, Gloria/Victor has trounced every Gym Leader in the region, beaten all of her/his rival trainers, fought alongside beasts of legend to save the world, and taken down a godlike Pokemon that whupped your sorry ass, Leon--but no, you’re right, she/he’s in serious danger of giving in to despair over your lame-balls Charizard getting a lucky shot.  She/He’ll just fall all to pieces without your generous condescension.

Speaking of the Charizard, gee, Nintendo, could you pander a little harder to the nostalgia of your adult audience?  “Look, look, 30-to-40 demographic!  Leon uses a CHARIZARD!  Just like YOU did 25 years ago!  Remember that?  Huh?  Remember the good old days with Charizard?  Is this not DA BOMB, my fellow used-to-be kids?  I’d buy that for a dollar, amirite?  ...No, really, please, buy this for dollars, please please oh my Arceus we want your money so bad.”  Never mind that Leon’s constantly spouting platitudes about how much regional pride he has while making his signature Pokemon one that comes from an entirely different region.  I mean, I’ll be the first to agree that the new Pokemon you’ve rolled out for the Galar region are the most uninspired lot you’ve come up with yet--seriously, I never thought I’d  reach a day when I’d view something like Flapple would be 1 of the better new Pokemon for a generation--but maybe at least showcase a Pokemon you can find in your own country if you’re gonna keep spewing patriotic sweet-nothings all the time?

And while we’re on the subject of stuff that Leon says all the damn time...DUDE.  We get it.  YOU’RE THE CHAMPION.  Could ya...could ya maybe stop calling attention to it every 4 minutes?  I mean the word champion is even Leon’s favorite adjective.

Not that he’s too terribly attached to the job, mind you.  Leon’s perfectly willing to give up the position to any of the sponsored trainers who can complete their journey and defeat him, as is only right.  Indeed, Leon is perfectly content to give the chance to replace him to any talented, worthy trainer...or, of course, to his own family member.  Yes, nepotism is alive and well in the Galar region with Leon, who makes it a point to endorse Hop, his own brother, to take on the challenge to become the next Champion.  Yeah, because Hop being admitted into a competition based on talent for leadership and tactical intelligence isn’t a dead give-away of preferential treatment at all.  Who else was on Leon’s list of potential candidates for sponsorship that Hop was deemed more qualified than, I wonder?  Team Skull grunts?  Magikarp?  A half-eaten sandwich?*

And on the subject of the transition of leadership from 1 Champion to the next, can we talk about what a scummy, responsibility-dodging ass Leon is?  The first thing he does, the FIRST THING, when Gloria/Victor becomes the new Champion of Galar, is immediately start talking about how it’s time to start looking ahead and planning for the future, passing the goddamn buck to Gloria/Victor as he says it’s up to her/him “to create the bright future we all hope to see.”  GEE, kinda interesting how the SECOND he’s no longer Champion himself, suddenly all the fun and games are over and it’s time for the Champion to start doing some real goddamn work, huh?

What convenient fucking timing that we’re going to start taking the responsibility for Galar’s future seriously NOW, huh?  Not for the last few years, during which the Champion’s been known for absolutely goddamn nothing but public showboating and sporting matches to show off his might as a trainer.  Not for the past couple weeks, which was when Rose was trying to get Leon to commit to some action regarding the potential energy crisis in the region’s future.  Not last night, when another sporting event was deemed more important than Rose’s having a mental breakdown out of worry for the region’s future.  No, no, not any of THOSE times, only NOW, when some other Champion can be the one working for the good of Galar.

So, hey, Leon, quick question there, buddy.  If it’s up to the Champion to bring about the new future and guide their region’s path, as you are so conveniently quick to point out now that you’ve been replaced...does that mean it’s your fucking fault that Galar is a nation of sports-obsessed morons who are too busy filling stadiums in worship of you to pay any attention to their looming energy crisis?  That everyone in the region’s so fixated on seeing giant Pokemon battles that even the most basic history and lore of your country’s been almost completely lost?  That all socio-economic ventures have become so inherently tied to the narrow, specialized Pokemon battling involving Dynamaxing, that any town not lucky enough to be built on a Power Spot runs the risk of sagging into poverty and obscurity, like Spikemuth?

Is the current careless, teetering bread-and-circus society of Galar the path and destination you consciously envisioned, Leon, or did it just happen to get that way on your watch because your mental acuity, ability to prioritize, and personal values are all identical to those of a poorly-raised 5-year-old?  Has your country been getting destroyed by your vision, or your carelessness?  Hitler or Nero, Leon, which one are you?

You know, if I had even the slightest faith in the writers of Pokemon Generation 8, I might have thought that it was all intentional.  I might have thought that Leon, and the sorry, vapid, 1-dimensional society of the Galar region were an intentional critique of the Pokemon world’s tendency to elect its most lauded celebrities and (from all appearances) government leaders based simply on how good they are at a specific sport.  You could look at Leon’s total disinterest in anything of actual importance to the region, at the way the region’s so busy being distracted by stadium matches that it can’t face its actual problems (present or future), and see a subtle but scathing commentary on the social structures that have been established in previous games as being the norm of the Pokemon world.  A message to the tune of, “Choose your leaders based on their ability to win Pokemon battles, and of course you’re going to get a dumb-as-rocks, clueless jock like Leon as your leader,” or something to that effect.  This could be a clever, insightful indictment of the series, much in the way that Generation 7 quietly criticized the way that Pokemon are treated in this world...

But it’s not.  Generation 7?  Well-written, involved, emotionally powerful story with depth and nuance.  Generation 8?  Game Freak actively barred you from the plot so they wouldn’t have to actually write it.  The writers of Sword and Shield likely do not possess the talent, and absolutely do not possess the work ethic, to have intended anything more of Leon as a character than the surface level.  Besides, the game makes it too strong and uniform a point to portray Leon as some great guy you’re supposed to idolize--he’s celebrated too earnestly for you to be intended to do anything else.  Sadly, though, the substance isn’t there to back that desire up, and in the end, Leon is simply a tiresome dipshit.

I miss Cynthia.














* Yes, he did sponsor Gloria/Victor, too, but let’s not pretend that said sponsorship didn’t feel a hell of a lot like an unexpected afterthought.

Pokemon Generation 8's Laziness

Man, even by Pokemon’s low standards, Game Freak really, really phoned it in on Generation 8.

Look, I knew, deep in my heart, that Generation 7 was going to be a singular, happy outlier.  A 1-time miracle.  I know I did that rant in which I expressed hopeful optimism that the themes and quality of Sun and Moon’s writing represented the first step to the series evolving into something compelling, and I did hold that hope in my heart, but realistically, I never did expect to be vindicated.  Sometimes a Lufia 2 happens.  You just have to be happy when a Wild Arms 3 drops out of the sky, because you won’t see it again.  Every now and then, a game comes along whose high quality makes it a bizarre outlier in the rest of its series, and you just have to enjoy these Dragon Quest 8s when they come along and accept their passing.  I get that, and I did not expect Pokemon Generation 8 to continue 7’s remarkable, out of character quality.  I fully expected that, when Sword and Shield came, we’d see a return to the usual bland, shallow, careless writing that has typified the Pokemon experience since Red and Blue.

What I really didn’t expect was that Game Freak would manage to be even lazier than that.

When you play a typical Pokemon game, there’s a plot.  I mean, sort of.  There’s a general stab in the dark at a plot, at least.  It’s not always good, but it’s there.  Maybe there’s a team of bad guys out there stealing Pokemon for the sake of crime.  Perhaps there’s a group of exceptionally stupid morons fighting each other to completely needlessly rearrange the planet’s continental feng shui.  Could be that there’s a bunch of pretend animal rights activists who are actually basically just Team Rocket with a better PR department.  Possibly there’s some guy trying to undo the universe, become God, and then remake all of creation as he sees fit.*  But whether it’s barely written, badly written, poorly written, or unexpectedly sort of halfway decently written, there IS a story going on in the Pokemon titles prior to 7.  There’s a narrative in which the protagonist of the game DOES become involved, throughout the game’s course, and plays a sustained role in resolving.

Generation 8 decides to take a different direction with things, and actively tell you to mind your own goddamn business whenever the subject of the plot is brought up.

Seriously!  During the course of Sword and Shield, there are some events** going on in the background, which you will occasionally...well, the term “cross paths with” implies way too close a facsimile of involvement.  Let’s say instead that there will occasionally be times during Generation 8 in which you can see from a distance that something is actually happening in the region.  But without fail, every time this happens, you’re told by a nearby NPC not to worry about it, and just concentrate on your stupid, generic badge-collecting journey.  It’s like every single person in the region is a cop parroting the cliched “Move along, nothing to see here,” line, throughout the whole game.

Think about that for a second!  Just, like, really take in the fact that Pokemon Generation 8 is a game that makes an active effort to excommunicate the protagonist from the plot.  Because with the exception of a few moments of learning some vague, generic snippets of lore for the region with Sonia, whose archeological and investigative skills are more on par with those of a bored tourist than a professor’s assistant, that is the entirety of the Sword and Shield experience right up to the final 2 hours or so.  It’s a game that excludes the player from its story.

Imagine if the first 70 minutes of Star Wars was just watching Luke walking to Tosche Station for those power converters.  Occasionally he’ll see some distant indication that there’s an intergalactic war going on, but every time he notices it, Uncle Owen (Leon) pops up out of nowhere and says “Don’t you worry none about all that hoo-hah, boy, you just mind your own (Com)beeswax and keep gettin’ on over to Tosche Station. Power converters are ALL that should matter to ye, ya blue milk-swillin’ chump!”  Interspersed by a rare visit from Obi-Wan (Sonia), who’s just there to sprinkle a couple historical factoids about lightsabers and the Force around.  Oh yeah, and for some reason Jar Jar Binks (Hop) is always around.

And then, finally, in the last 11 minutes, Luke gets to fly an X-Wing and blow up the Death Star, but only after Uncle Owen had had a go at it first and widened the exhaust port, and only with Jar Jar jammed in the cockpit with Luke to help pull the trigger, thus significantly lessening the scope of Luke’s accomplishment.  Because Arceus forbid Generation 8 gives us a break from Hop or stops Lickitunging Leon’s ass for a full 2 minutes.

At the very least, I guess it’s a unique approach to treat the interaction between plot and player like that of popular girls excluding some kid they disapprove of in elementary school.  Not quite what I meant when I said I wanted more creativity in the writing for this series, though.  Just...imagine being so incredibly lazy and incompetent that the effort of writing a story as mundane and careless as Pokemon Generation 1’s plot is STILL more work than you’re willing to do while on the clock for the better part of 2 years.  Imagine looking at the bare outline you’ve made for a story, and deciding that it is also the final draft.

This isn’t the only stupid, annoying flaw of Pokemon Generation 8, of course.  Hop is an uninteresting, boring, pointless waste of space.  A mechanic of having random-encounters try to chase the player down is annoying; the whole point of tall grass in Pokemon is that the player has some agency in deciding whether he/she feels like catching more Pokemon at that moment.***  Bede is basically the antagonist version of a fart--unpleasant to experience for a couple seconds, and yet, in spite of how unlikable he was, utterly and completely forgotten a few moments later.  Even considering that the player is basically shoved violently away from him at every opportunity, Rose is still surprisingly empty and boring, and Eternatus may be the least remarkable Legendary Pokemon to date.  The new Pokemon themselves, for that matter, are the saddest bunch of blah since Generation 2.  The post-game content is tiresome, stupid trash--I sincerely don’t give a shit about Hop’s self-esteem, the villains are shallow, dithering morons who put Dr. Wiley to shame when it comes to immediate and insincere defeated groveling, and is it just me or does Sonia get disproportionately bent out of shape about the betrayal by her intern when the intern is brand new, has a generic character model, and doesn’t even have a name?****

Plus, of course, there’s Leon, who is a happy-go-lucky dipshit well worth a rant all on his own.  Expect that one in the very near future.

Nonetheless, even if Generation 8 is otherwise a meaningless, unappealing mess as a whole, what truly stands out about it and makes it the worst entry of the series is this baffling, lazy, utterly counter-productive exclusion of the protagonist from their own adventure.  Some players complain when an RPG railroads them from 1 plot point to the next; Sword and Shield, by contrast, railroads the player into the middle of nowhere, away from their destination.  Generation 3 might have been dumb as hell, Generation 1 might have been stale and threadbare, Generation 5 might have been a cowardly betrayal of its own premise...but in none of them did the Champion of the region essentially hide the story behind his back, hold the protagonist away by the head, and sneer “Stop thinking about nerdy shit and go play some more sports, dork!” for the whole game.  Pokemon Sword and Shield is a true testament to sloth, a waste of time defined by its writers’ uniquely assertive take on avoiding the labor they’re paid to perform.





















* Is it just me, or did the stakes with Cyrus seem wildly higher than they were for any other conflict in the series?  It’s like a real RPG villain had to make ends meet and took a side gig with Nintendo in his free time.  Seriously, the guy just basically is Hikawa from SMT3!


** Although I would like to take the opportunity to mention that these events are NOT especially big or interesting.  It’s basically a business guy, Rose, freaking out about the fact that there might be an energy crisis 1000 years in the future, and the region’s star athlete, Leon, telling him to chill the fuck out about it.  Not so much because Leon believes that there’s enough time in the coming millennium to find a solution to the problem, as would be reasonable, but more because Leon doesn’t want to delay Sports! for even a moment to deal with the issue.  You can bet your butt(erfree) that Leon would give not a tenth of a shit more about this issue if the lights were gonna go out in the region the next day.


*** Credit where it’s due, though: it IS a good thing that we finally see the random encounter Pokemon on the main screen.  In a series that’s all about catching the Pokemon you want and avoiding the ones you don’t like (or avoiding duplicates if you’re out for a half-of-Noah’s-Ark approach), that’s a pretty great quality-of-life feature.

...Of course, you wouldn’t think it’d have taken 25 years to figure out how to give the player this small, obvious piece of autonomy, but hey, cut Game Freak a break, we can’t all be as technologically advanced as Chrono Trigger was in 1995.


**** Although I suppose I have to at least acknowledge that the post-game adventure represents the first time in this game where you’re actually allowed to be a part of the plot.  Yeah, apparently it took until the game was over for Nintendo’s writers to feel like opening a word processor.

Pokemon Generation 8's Downloadable Content

I can’t even fathom how boring this is going to be.  DLC is already the part of a game least likely to be interesting or worthwhile, in my experience, and Nintendo especially has a bad track record with it.  And that’s DLC for games that are otherwise good to some degree.  What will a less engaging piece of Pokemon Generation 8 even look like?  After the main game, my expectations are low enough that I might count it as a win if The Isle of Armor isn’t entirely a minigame about laundering your underwear and The Crown Tundra isn’t a snow shoveling simulator.

Then again, who knows?  Maybe Game Freak hunkered down, got serious, and actually gave an honest effort to making these DLCs, to make up for the blahpocalypse they’d foisted on us with the main game.  We live in a world where shrimp can make implosions as hot as the sun with their punches and Alex Kurtzman hasn’t been literally torn apart by a mob, so clearly anything is possible.



The Isle of Armor: I’m sorry, Nintendo, you want me to find how many Diglets?  I thought you just said 150.  It sure looked like 150.  But I know that’s impossible, because if you were asking me to find fucking 100 fucking 50 fucking Diglets, you’d trigger a Gold Skulltula episode in me and I’d have to charter an international journey to your offices to murder every last 1 of you.

For real, though, here’s the deal: this DLC is boring.  Shocker, isn’t it?  Something related to Pokemon: Generation 8 isn’t especially compelling?  Truly a surprise.  Basically, the entire plot of this add-on is that you travel to a little island, join a dojo, become a master at said dojo, and raise a martial arts bear Pokemon.  And if you’re thinking to yourself that most of that premise sounds like it’d have trouble filling the expected time and content of most games’ tertiary sidequests, then congratulations, you’re too smart to work at Game Freak!

Not that a small premise can’t be entertaining, of course.  With the right cast and the right content, anything can be a compelling story; hell, Non Non Biyori made a gripping sports anime scene out of a recess game of knocking rulers off a desk.  Unfortunately, however, the content of your rise to the top ranks of the dojo is mostly uninspired time-padding sidequest errands, given by and connected to by-the-numbers NPC characters and a mildly annoying antagonist whose personal story is facile and forgettable.  All so that you can be the top dog at some mom-and-pop dojo that they keep touting as a place Leon trained at.  Yeah, because that’s a ringing endorsement.

And then later, Hop shows up.  Yaaaayyyyy.

I will give The Isle of Armor a bit of credit on the point of Kubfu, or at least for the concept behind it.  Eventually you’re given a little martial arts bear Pokemon called Kubfu, and tasked with completing sidequests that are designed to build a friendship with him/her.  This is actually a really good idea!  It’s a totally different avenue to acquiring Pokemon, wherein the process is you going to the trouble to do things to build a real, creditably positive relationship with the creature that you’re going to expect to fight for your benefit.  The idea of approaching Pokemon collection as something that’s at least somewhat a 2-way street, of earning their trust and friendship rather than just magicking them into a tiny ball without consent and moving on, is a great direction to take.  One which you’d THINK the series would have started implementing decades ago to try to prove its bullshit about trainer-Pokemon relations not being inherently immoral!  The idea that you’d actually have to earn Kubfu as a companion, create an emotional basis for his/her willingness to fight for you, is definitely a step in the right direction.

Sadly, the actual process of this is uninvolved and insubstantial.  And, as the stupid Let’s Player I watched* demonstrated, there is absolutely nothing stopping the player, once Kubfu’s personal journey is over with, from just sticking him/her in the PC and forgetting about him/her forever, which really does undercut the lasting impact of the journey of friendship you both went on together.**  Obviously that’s a matter of what the player decides, but seeing it happen before my eyes did kinda lessen what slight hold the story of Kubfu and Gloria’s blossoming friendship had upon me.

Still, as I said, the idea behind the Kubfu part of this DLC is a good one.  If Game Freak had actually given it the slightest effort, it might even have been good!  But they didn’t, nor did they appear to try at any other part of The Isle of Armor’s story, and so this DLC is as bland and purposeless as the rest of Generation 8.  Don’t waste your money on it.


The Crown Tundra: This one is kind of funny.  Not intentionally, mind you; writing jokes takes effort and effort is a foreign fucking concept to Game Freak.  But it’s funny in the sense that the whole thing feels kind of like an exasperated, frustrated parental meltdown.  It’s like Nintendo's just so fucking tired of hearing the players whine about being dissatisfied with this subpar game, and this whole DLC is the company’s response of, “Fine!  FINE!  You win!  What do you want?  You want Legendaries?  GO AHEAD!  Take them, take them all, just take every goddamn one, I don’t even care any more!” as they grab Rayquazas and Mewtwos out of a sack and hurl them at the players’ faces.

The possibility that the Legendary Pokemon pandering overload in this DLC is an actual temper tantrum notwithstanding, I guess I would say that The Crown Tundra is the best thing about Pokemon Sword and Shield.  Not because it’s good, because it unequivocally is not, but because this is the first time that something in Pokemon Generation 8 has had a real, honest-to-Arceus plot in which you’re an actual participant.  It’s not exactly much of a story, basically boiling down to “help a has-been Pokemon trick a horse into letting him sit on it, and then track down some more Legendaries because some helicopter dad’s daughter ditched him on their family vacation and he’s lonely.”  But hey, even that crap still at least involves the protagonist being a legitimately important figure in the DLC’s events, so it’s a step up from having Leon tell you “Stop thinking about stuff and just go play sports, nerd,” every time you so much as think about trying to get involved in the main game’s plot.

Not helping matters is the fact that the major figures of this add-on are generic and boring as all hell.  Like, even Honey, Mustard, and the antagonists of The Isle of Armor had more personality and nuance than Peony, Peonia,*** and Calyrex.  Appropriate to Game Freak’s lack of interest in their work, Peony seems to be written under the assumption that cramming artificial enthusiasm into a person, and nothing else, is all you need to create a character--it feels kind of like someone who thinks the only thing you need to do to make an argument more convincing is to talk louder was the one to write Peony.  Peonia, meanwhile, is just basically the exaggeratedly weary sigh of a teenager made into a human being of its own, and Calyrex is little more than an exposition machine for himself.

I guess I can at least respect The Crown Tundra for the fact that the largest part of its story involves a quest to help Calyrex, a Pokemon, regain status as the famous forest king of local myth.  This involves directly interacting with Calyrex, including having him outright speak to you, and ends with Calyrex voluntarily becoming your Pokemon as a show of gratitude for your assistance in restoring him to his former glory.  Having a Pokemon consciously be the central figure in a plot arc, and having it regularly speak to the protagonist, is a hell of a huge step in humanizing Pokemon as a whole, and the idea of a Pokemon’s joining you by its choice instead of just because you decided to beat it within an inch of its life and trap it in a ball, is something that this series could really benefit from further exploring.  The fact that we’ve had both Calyrex and Kubfu, in a row, treat the act of becoming a kept Pokemon as voluntary, something that’s earned rather than demanded, could be a promising sign for this stupid series actually getting ready to develop into new directions with its storytelling.  Or it would be, if Nintendo hadn’t already disappointed similar optimism previously.  Still, it’s at least a decently respectable approach in the here and now.

Oh, right, there’s 1 other thing this DLC adds, that being the Galarian Star Tournament.  Basically, it’s an elimination tournament of team Pokemon battles with all the Gym Leaders and some other notable figures from the game and its add-ons.  The cool thing is that you can pick any partner you want!  Oh, but not her.  No, no, not her, either.  Um, and not him, obviously.  What’s the matter with you?  By “any,” Game Freak clearly meant “either Marnie or Hop, no one else.”  Duh.  What, you thought it might be mildly diverting to fight together with someone other than the most obvious characters you’ve already been teaming up with all game long?  Well too fucking bad; you can only do that after you’ve beaten the tournament once already and have absolutely no remaining reward- or story-related reason to go through it again.

Why?  Because Game Freak low-key hates you in a very passive-aggressive way, that’s fucking why.

Anyway, yeah, The Crown Tundra is boring and you shouldn’t bother spending your money on it.



Well, as expected, the verdict on Pokemon Generation 8’s add-ons is not a positive one.  I do think it’s safe to say that they’re probably some of the best content that the game has to offer, but much like the statement that My Hero Academia is 1 of the greatest shonen animes to date, this is less of a compliment to the 1 thing as it is an indictment against everything it’s compared to, to somehow be less than what is clearly garbage.  Nintendo keeps up its unbroken DLC losing streak with Pokemon Sword and Shield.















* You didn’t actually think I was going to PAY for these things, right?  I may not learn my lessons fast enough, but I do still learn them.  I’m not paying for another Nintendo DLC until I can verify ahead of time that the solitary character trait of 1 of its main actors isn’t just the way she sighs.


** It’s actually kinda sick, really.  The majority of becoming besties with Kubfu involves bringing him/her to various different scenic spots, seeing the world together.  So you can be both the person who opened Kubfu’s eyes to the joys and wonders of the world all around him/her, and the person that forever takes that away from Kubfu as you incarcerate him/her in a corner of a PC box.


*** At first it struck me as kinda weird and laughably vain that Peony basically named his daughter after himself, but then I remembered that people do this all the time in real life.  But then I remembered that I also think it’s weird and laughably vain when the real life people do that, too.

Pokemon Generation 6 and 7's Traded Pokemon Obedience

The obedience level cap of traded Pokemon has always been stupid.

You know what I’m talking about: that strange gameplay limitation present in the Pokemon series since the first generation which dictates that if a Pokemon you got in a trade from someone else is at a high enough level, it won’t listen to your commands during battle unless you’ve gotten far enough in the game to earn a badge guaranteeing obedience up to an appropriate level.

Well, I think it’s stupid. What the hell does this achieve, really? Yeah, fine, it’s a balancing mechanic, making sure that anyone who gets a Level 99 Mewtwo in a trade doesn’t just sail all the way through the game without trying. Okay, sure, it works for this purpose, but, uh, who the fuck cares? Balancing mechanics are supposed to make the game more fun and properly challenging for those who want it to be. Well, for anyone who wants to keep their game properly balanced, they could just not use the damn overpowered Pokemon they got from the trade! Or is it that Nintendo doesn’t want you going from the beginning of the game to the end too fast? Because Bahamut knows you want to take the time to really savor those thoughtful, rewarding stories in the first 6 generations of Pokemon, right?

Good lord, I think I just gave myself heartburn from sarcasm overdose.

Yeah, sorry, but it’s just dumb. Trying to forcibly dictate how fast the player’s allowed to progress in the game seems pointless when it’s a 1-player venture like this, and it ain’t like the battle system of Pokemon is so complex and articulate that it would be a great loss to make it easier than it already is. Why would Nintendo want to limit the usefulness of the trading feature like this, anyway? From Day 1, the more trading goes on between Pokemon players the better, since it means more people are playing, and thus have purchased, the game.

It’s not even set up intelligently! Pokemon from trades gain more experience points from battles, so if any member of your team is going to hit a level limit earlier than they should, it’s them! The system is set up to make the traded Pokemon grow faster, and then punish them for it!

But you know what? As annoying as it might have always been, particularly for one such as myself, who attempts with each game to import his favorite Pokemon for a new adventure (it just isn’t a Pokemon game if I’m not leading the charge with Mewtwo, Gardevoir, and that wonderfully absurd flaming kung fu chicken), it’s always been a minor frustration, minor enough that even I never thought to rant about it before--and Alexander knows that says something; I've written rants complaining about stuff like the size of a game's treasure chests. It’s an unnecessary and unwelcome gameplay balance, but negligible overall.

Except now, in the sixth and seventh generations of Pokemon. Now, this mechanic is really stupid.

Regardless of all else about it, there was nothing in the games themselves that outright contradicted the concept of the disobedient trade Pokemon. The idea is just that once they get too strong, they don’t listen to you because you’re not a good enough trainer. Simple, if arbitrary.

But in Generation 6 and 7, see, Pokemon battles have been given a little more personality than ever before.* In Pokemon Moon and Sun, your Pokemon’s affection towards you has a direct influence on their combat capabilities--get them to love you enough, and they get more experience points, occasionally dodge attacks and survive otherwise lethal blows, snap out of status ailments more reliably, and so on. Along with these tangible battle benefits, there are various messages that occur during battle that give it some flavor, according to how your Pokemon feels about you. Messages like,

“Oranguru is relaxed. The sight of you might have made it feel more more secure.”
“You and Oranguru are breathing in perfect sync with one another!”
“Oranguru is looking at you with intense and determined eyes!”
“Oranguru puts on some Barry White!”
“Oranguru asks you if this is your first time...”

Maybe a higher critical hit rate ain’t the only benefit the trainer’s getting from their Affection-maxed Pokemon, know what I’m sayin’?

So here’s my question: how does it make any sense when the Pokemon you’ve brought up to the highest level of Affection by grooming and feeding it constantly suddenly decides, at the instant it passes an arbitrary boundary of experience points, that it no longer gives a rat’s ass about you? It’s not like the Affection level lowers at all, or anything. This Pokemon still absolutely worships you, even as it snubs you for the unworthy scrub you apparently are.

Hell, even the battle messages don’t change at all! I bring my traded, Affection-maxed, over-leveled Ninetales into combat, and every between-turn message is about how much she wants to make sweet disturbing Poke-love to me, while every actual turn she takes involves her pretending I don’t exist. Stop making my glorious ice fox into a subpar Tsundere, Nintendo!

So yeah. This mechanic, which was always stupid, nowadays makes no sense whatsoever. ‘Love is fickle’ doesn’t need to be a gameplay feature!












* I’m going on knowledge graced me by the esteemed Ecclesiastes in terms of Generation 6, as I didn’t play that one. But Ecc’s a pretty cool and reliable guy, so I’m assuming he’s correct on this.

Pokemon Generation 7's Significance to the Series Theory

Today’s theory is different from my others. Usually, my theories are on aspects of storytelling, or potential other perspectives on characters, which are unlikely to ever be definitively proven right or wrong. But today’s theory is a little more grounded in tangibles. We’re going to see whether I’m right or wrong--probably the latter, I’m sorry to say--on the inevitable day that Pokemon Generation 8 is released. For the sake of Pokemon’s recent, utterly unexpected venture into quality storytelling, I hope today’s theory will, in at least some part, be vindicated. But I’m not betting on it. Time will tell, I suppose. On with the rant!



There’s just no 2 ways about it: against all expectations, Pokemon Generation 7 is a good RPG. No, that’s selling it short. It’s a great RPG. It’s got a story with depth that feels like it matters, with a well-written, complex, dynamic, and so gosh darn lovable main character, and a complex, well-written, skillfully executed villain who perfectly serves as the main character’s foil. Pokemon Generation 7 has a plot with a real purpose, that poses and explores actual questions and issues, and more than once invokes genuine emotion in the player.

And the interesting thing is, some of these more thoughtful parts of Pokemon Generation 7 may not just be significant in their own right, as moments in their own story, but also as a foundation to the themes and direction of future games in the Pokemon series. For, you see, within Pokemon Moon and Pokemon Sun are seeds that could lead to a complete shake-up of the imbalanced, illogical, and morally worrying way that the Pokemon world, and indeed even its narrative, views and treats its eponymous race of dogfighting servants.

The bulk of this potential is found within the game’s true main character, Lillie. Not surprising, of course, given that Lillie already does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to inserting purpose and depth into Pokemon Generation 7. Lillie has the potential to be a graceful, subtle first real step that Nintendo and Game Freak are taking toward recognizing Pokemon as being, and deserving to be, more than battling slavepets.

To see what I mean, we must first acknowledge a certain unstated narrative decision regarding Lillie: namely, that she is, symbolically, a Pokemon. In the literal sense, Lillie is, of course, as human as any other character in the game, but she nonetheless is clearly meant to be analogous to a Pokemon. Her initial design, of course, is the most obvious giveaway of this fact, as Lillie’s clothing and hairstyle when you first meet her intentionally make her visually similar to Nihilego, the Pokemon/Unknown Beast of greatest narrative importance to the game’s story (besides Nebbie, that is).* And this decision is not just a typical but unimportant artistic choice, the way Gym Leaders will often have color schemes and hairstyles evocative of the Pokemon Type that they specialize in. The game explicitly tells us that Lillie’s mother Lusamine has intentionally made Lillie’s appearance as close to Nihilego’s as possible, for reasons that are fascinating, thought-provoking, but also irrelevant to and just too darned time-consumingly complex for this rant.

Lillie also seems to unconsciously (and perhaps even consciously) parallel herself to Pokemon, as well. Even as she eventually casts aside her mother’s control over her and begins to dress as she wants to, Lillie keeps the comparison her mother drew between her and Pokemon alive--heck, she kind of makes the analogy stronger. Because even as she shows off her new look and determination, Lillie equates this evolution of her character with an advancement of a Pokemon, calling her new outlook and fashion her “Z-Powered Form.” This is, of course, in reference to the Z Moves that Generation 7 introduces to the Pokemon battle dynamic, single-use attacks of extreme power that’re all flashy and super special awesome and such.

Of course, what exactly a “Z-Powered Form” in fact is, I couldn’t say. It’s not actually a thing for Pokemon...seems like Lillie should have called her new look her Mega Evolution, but Mega Evolution is, like, so last Generation, so I guess they just had her go with the less technically accurate analogy for the benefit of tying in with this Generation’s Z-Move gimmick.**

Regardless, though, Lillie’s obviously referencing (if perhaps ineptly) a concept unique to Pokemon in the game to describe herself. So, yeah, even when she’s broken free of the clutches of her dominating mother’s after-influence, Lillie is still meant to represent a Pokemon, by her own words.

So here’s the thing: If we look at Lillie as representative of Pokemon, the story of Pokemon Generation 7 has some very interesting implications for the future of the series. The meat of this game’s story, after all, is that of Lillie stepping out of her mother’s domination, free to be her own person and seek her own destiny. In a touching display of compassion and genuine goodness, Lillie makes the choice to return to Lusamine and save her, not because she’s obligated to, but because she still loves her mother and won’t leave Lusamine to destroy herself. It’s a great coming-of-age story, particularly when it occurs alongside the journey of Alola’s first-Champion-to-be as the island region prepares to join the rest of the world in having a Pokemon League.***

But keeping the Lillie = Pokemon metaphor in mind, the story takes on a new tone. It starts to seem like it’s an allegory for a Pokemon, any given Pokemon, escaping from the dominating, self-concerned control of her trainer, a trainer that demands unconditional obedience from the Pokemon in every regard, and expects the poor creature to shape its behavior and physical existence to suit the trainer’s whims. Which, needless to say, is exactly what we do when we play these games, to varying degrees, and even in-universe seems to be the case for a substantial portion of the trainer population. And while I’d love to say I came up with this interpretation on my own and act all smart and thoughtful, the game basically just spells it out for you as Lillie confronts her mother at the Aether Foundation. She basically tells Lusamine off for taking advantage of Lillie’s love for her, declaring that children aren’t just toys to be played with and discarded...and in the same conversation, also denounces the way that Lusamine harmed Nebby (the Cosmog Pokemon that Lillie ran away with to save from her mother’s machinations). The parallel is drawn clearly between Lusamine’s abuse of Lillie and her abuse of her Pokemon.

This being the case, then, what does the rest of Lillie’s story tell us? Lillie goes on to find her confidence and discover herself, as well as encourage Nebby to grow in new ways without her (as the companion to Moon/Sun, rather than remaining in Lillie’s care), and her story concludes with a showdown against Lusamine, in which Lillie saves her mother from her own madness, and proves herself as an independent individual, both to herself and to Lusamine. As Lusamine murmurs in questioning wonder at how beautiful Lillie has now become, the girl has proven that her love for and devotion to her mother can exist--indeed, has never been greater--as a part of her as an independent person. Not only was Lusamine mistaken when, in her madness, she believed that the only way to guarantee the consistent love and devotion of her family was to control them completely, but the love and devotion that Lillie has now voluntarily shown for her mother is greater, more ‘beautiful’, than ever before. But beyond the surface level of a coming-of-age story that deals with our fear of losing those close to us as they mature into people of their own...this is a story with interesting implications. If Lillie is also meant to represent a Pokemon, and by extension Lusamine is clearly meant to represent that Pokemon’s trainer...then this is a story very different from that cowardly slop in Generation 5. This is a story which dares to criticize the foundation of the Pokemon world: that of a domineering trainer who, as shown through the options and nuances of gameplay, gets to casually acquire, use, and discard Pokemon in accordance to his/her whims alone. Through its protagonist Lillie, Pokemon Generation 7 says that the conventions we’re so used to in these games, which we in real life poke fun at and question the ethics of, actually are morally unsound.

Yes, we know that there are cases in the Pokemon world of trainers mistreating their Pokemon--the sad sack plot of Generation 5 hinged its whole message of “KEEP UP THE STATUS QUO AND DON’T THINK ABOUT THINGS TOO MUCH” around the idea that 1 guy mistook the supposed rarity of Pokemon abuse as the norm, as I mentioned in previously. Nonetheless, until now, the concept was used only as a rare contrast that highlighted how okay it was for the regular Pokemon-human dynamic to exist. Generation 7, on the other hand, actually stars the individual who questions the ethics of the world’s hierarchy. Stars, and glorifies her.

And that by itself is impressive. But what’s really interesting is that this game does more than just having Lillie question the norms of the Pokemon world, call attention to the fact that maybe thinking, feeling, reasoning creatures shouldn’t be kept as slave pets. Yes, Pokemon Generation 7 goes beyond simple critique of its own series: it also proposes an alternative. Criticism, after all, is an absolutely essential component to human society, but it’s the easier half of a whole--the other half is actually offering a solution for the problem being highlighted.**** In having Lillie return to save Lusamine from herself, in having Lillie show her devotion even when Lusamine has turned her back to her daughter, and in having Lusamine finally, at the end of the climactic showdown, realize just how amazing Lillie truly is as her own person, Pokemon Generation 7 poses the solution to the current inequitable and ethically uncomfortable status of Pokemon and their trainers. The solution is simply to have trainers give up their supposed authority and control of their Pokemon...release them, let them be their own free beings, and let their love and devotion to the humans keep them voluntarily by the trainers’ side. Lillie has proven that she can be Lusamine’s daughter and her equal at the same time, and by metaphorical extension, that a Pokemon can be its trainer’s companion and equal at the same time.

That’s what I’ve taken from this, at least: that Pokemon Generation 7 has stood up, and proclaimed, “Let equal beings share their love and friendship as equal beings.” To me, the moral and message of Lillie’s story, when viewed through the understanding that she represents Pokemon, holds a very real possibility that the series is ready to take itself in a new direction.

Now, Lillie is my biggest piece of evidence for my thoughts that the future of the Pokemon series might involve a revolutionary change in tone and interpersonal dynamics between trainer and Pokemon, but I do want to point out that there are a few minor details of Pokemon Generation 7 that corroborate this. First of all, there’s the Pokemon Pelago feature--a pleasant, physical location for your Pokemon to go to, instead of just being cooped up in a PC storage system. Could be, and probably is, meant as nothing more than a gameplay feature, but it does nonetheless carry with it an implication that perhaps Pokemon prefer being ‘free range,’ so to speak, than being compressed into a digital box.

There’s also the fact that Alola has a noticeably more equal attitude (though obviously nowhere near actual equality) towards Pokemon, a fact which is outright stated a couple times. Pokemon are implied to have jobs in the community as their own entities (rather than just being used by trainers to perform those jobs), such as independently providing transportation services to those taking the Alola Island Challenge.***** I mean, sure, these transportation Pokemon are still having to drop whatever they’re doing to assist the human being that calls on them, but they’re doing so on their own, without some preteen owner breathing down their necks a few feet away. As a result, it feels less like a slave pet kowtowing to their master, and more like a contracted entity voluntarily fulfilling a responsibility--that is, an employee just doing their job. A region (one which seems especially glorified; I can’t recall any previous installment in the series whose characters, NPCs, and overall tone had so much enthusiasm for its setting) in which Pokemon are viewed as slightly closer to peers than in any other region...it’s an interesting detail to call attention to.

So what does this all add up to? What’s my point? Well, it’s simply this: I theorize (and really, really hope) that Pokemon Generation 7 is intended to be a turning point in the series. Not just in the sense that we’ve finally seen a main series Pokemon RPG with a real story and well-written characters (though I am DEFINITELY down for this being the first of many quality plots and casts!). Rather, I think that this well-written, subtle story of shaking free from unfair bondage and rising up to prove the value of being free to be oneself and pursue relationships out of choice rather than obligation could be a turning point for how the Pokemon series views and implements its titular species. Born from the quiet but bold words and example of Lillie, future titles could finally begin truly exploring the questions of what’s right and just for Pokemon, the questions that have been glossed over, ignored, and at times even actively and ineptly sabotaged by the series until now. The future might hold new stories which further challenge the dynamics of the Pokemon world, even new game features that could revolutionize how Pokemon are acquired--maybe we could soon see a game in which “catching” a Pokemon is less about beating them within an inch of their life and trapping them in a tiny prison, and more about actually convincing them that you deserve their companionship and support, keeping them together as a group out of mutual respect and affection rather than an iron grip of control, as Lillie has taught us is better. I theorize that from here on, with Generation 7 as a foundation to build off of, the Pokemon series will, much as its eponymous beings do, evolve into something greater! Something of depth, that develops itself in a dynamic way with each new installment, moving toward a more worthwhile, wholesome world in which humans and Pokemon are the equals who grow as friends and family for real. A whole new series has been born with Generation 7!

Or, y’know, more likely the next games will be the same careless, uninteresting, shallow cash-grabs as always, and Nintendo will backtrack the hell away from the possibilities that Pokemon Moon and Sun opened to them. I suppose we’ll know for sure in a couple years. Even if that winds up being the case, though, I’ll always have Generation 7 much as I have Xenosaga 1: as a shining moment of glimpsed potential for something great.



EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: Yeah, it was the cash-grab scenario.













* Does anyone find it interesting, incidentally, that in the Pokemon Refresh thing, touching Nihilego in the spot where her face would be (if we use Lillie as a blueprint) provokes a strong reaction? I wonder whether there’re any implications to that.


** Speaking of Mega Evolutions, is anyone else annoyed that none of Alola’s new Pokemon got any? The Z Moves are cool and all, but I’d rather see some cool powered-up forms if I have to choose.

Also, way to drop the ball and still not have a Mega Evolution of Rapidash as a totally bitchin’ fire alicorn, Nintendo. It’s like you guys don’t even read this blog.


*** Come to think of it...why hasn’t the series tried something like this before? I mean, the basic premise of Pokemon is pretty much always the same thing: a kid going on a journey that’s a socially-encouraged rite of passage. That’s basically already the foundation of a coming-of-age story anyway, so why not make an actual, honest-to-Arceus story about growing up and out of the confines of youth? It seems so damn obvious! Sheesh, Generation 7 really is the first of the series where they gave the slightest crap about what they were writing.


**** Not, for the record, that there is anything wrong about offering sincere critique even when you don’t personally have a better solution available. It’s not the diner’s responsibility to know how to make their meal palatable, but the chef’s. It is simply the diner’s privilege to expect as much, and to call attention to a situation which prevents them from having a satisfactory experience.


***** CHRIST ALIVE, NO MORE HIDDEN MACHINES, WHAT A GLORIOUS TIME TO LIVE IN!

Pokemon Generation 7's Main Character

Pokemon Generation 7, better known as Pokemon Moon and Sun, really is a great RPG. It has a thoughtful and interesting story, it has a cast of characters with personality and depth (well, some of them, at least; Hau kinda plateaus at “I like fried bread”), its villain is complex and striking, and its main character is dynamic and terrifically written.

No, I’m not talking about Moon or Sun. I’m talking about Lillie.

Yeah, in addition to having a thoughtful and well-told story, Pokemon Generation 7 is also interesting in that it takes on the challenge of an unconventional narrative form: the protagonist of the game that you control is really not the main character of it. If anything, Moon (I’m just gonna keep saying Moon because I got Pokemon Moon and the either-or thing gets tiresome; just replace “Moon” with “Sun” if that’s your preference...for some reason) is just sort of a plot device to Lillie’s journey of self-actualization and familial redemption, albeit an absolutely essential one.

Sure, the game takes you and Moon through the predictable (though pleasantly jazzed up) Pokemon paces, with the whole wandering around, challenging important trainers, and becoming Champion thing. But the overwhelmingly clear focus of this game, the main plot, is that which revolves around Lusamine, the realm of the Ultra Beasts, Nebby, and Lillie. And that plot is Lillie’s story, not Moon’s. The game's story begins only once Lillie is first introduced to Moon, and nearly every substantial plot point affects her, usually directly. The foil of the game’s main villain is clearly Lillie (and what a terrific connection and history there is between them; the depth and psychology of Lillie and Lusamine are just stellar work by the writers), and it’s her determination and desires that carry the plot forward and frequently determine its course.

Moon’s role in the plot of Pokemon Generation 7 is really just to be a vital support for Lillie--a protective guardian to her to keep her safe early in her journey, and an example to use as inspiration as time goes on. And let us not make any mistake on this point: it’s an extremely important role for Moon to play, to serve as the rock-solid example for Lillie. If she did not have Moon’s independence and unflagging strength to protect others to emulate, Lillie would not have completed her personal journey and found herself. Moon’s presence, silent though it is,* is the shoulder Lillie leans on and the foundation from which she builds herself, and that’s pretty damn important in a story of an emerging individual who has learned to value herself. But, that isn't the same as Moon actually being the plot's key figure.

Even the few major parts of Pokemon Generation 7’s course of events that seem, on the surface, to legitimately be focused on Moon and her journey often end up coming back to Lillie and her personal journey of growth and family. Take, for example, the finale of the game, in which Moon becomes the first Champion of Alola, and the region joins the rest of the world with its newly formed Pokemon League. That’s a pretty big, general event, and it certainly seems like it relates solely to Moon’s quest, in that it’s the traditional Pokemon game conclusion. But even then, this major moment in Alolan history, this crowning achievement of Moon, this final interactive event of the game’s story, is still made important by the plot not for its own sake, but for the fact that it is the final moment of Lillie and Moon’s journey together, despite Lillie’s not being present for it. For, you see, Moon’s victory and assumption of the role of Champion is a galvanizing event for Lillie to leave Alola, with the intention of emulating the girl (or boy; it could be Sun instead, I know) that she respects and, let’s face it, 80% probability loves.** This finale is not just the end of Moon’s tale, it is also the end of Lillie’s, and the beginning of her next, prompting her to leave to care for the mother she has saved and become a trainer like her hero.***

Now, yes, you could make the argument that Lillie’s not the main character of the story, but that she rather fulfills a very familiar RPG role: the Magical Plot Girl. Certainly a common RPG trope, and there’s much about Lillie that reminds one of Breath of Fire 5’s Nina, Skies of Arcadia’s Fina, Lunar 2's Lucia, Lufia 1's Lufia, and countless others. The fact that she’s on the run while trying to protect a mystical plot device from falling into the wrong hands, wrong hands which happen to be actively pursuing her, is so common a narrative trope to the genre that RPG might as well stand for Running Plot Girls.

But the difference between Pokemon Generation 7 and other RPGs is that in a game like Breath of Fire 5, or Grandia 2, or Lufia 1, or so on, the protagonist is made a significantly involved member of the story and its direction. Ryu of BoF5 is the one who makes the decision to bring Nina to the surface, Ryudo quickly becomes the key figure in the unfolding story of Grandia 2, Lunar 2's Hiro gets more or less press-ganged by the members of his party with actual personalities to man up and show Lucia that there's more than 1 way to save the world, and Unnamed Lufia 1 Hero is...well, I mean, he just drifts along with the bland plot, but that’s pretty much true of everyone in Lufia 1, because playing Lufia 1 is basically putting your brain on a crash diet for 40 - 60 hours. Generally, the protagonist actively affects and changes the Magical Plot Girl (most often using the method clinically referred to as Twoo Wuv), and influences the plot’s direction and purpose. But in Pokemon Generation 7? Moon only passively affects Lillie and helps her change, and just sails along with the plot as other people gently push her from one event to the next (although that part’s just standard for Pokemon games). Lillie pushes herself to be greater thanks to Moon’s example, but never Moon’s influence, if you follow me.

The instigator of Pokemon Generation 7’s plot is Lillie, the story’s themes and conflict center around her, the journey for discovery and value of one’s self are hers, the villain of the game is directly connected to her, and almost every major event of the game’s story is focused upon her, whether actively or inactively. She is dynamic through her own determination to be, and she defines the stakes, purpose, and direction of the game’s climax. So in my opinion, it is Lillie who is the main character of Pokemon Generation 7, and I applaud the developers of this game for not only approaching its narrative in an unusual and interesting way, but also for making that different method work so well.













* I’m not a fan of silent protagonists, as I’ve mentioned, but it seems to work adequately here, I must say. Moon’s silent, unyielding hero-ness actually meshes well with the role she’s meant to have as an example to Lillie. Like a pillar of strength who...well, talks as much as an actual pillar would.


** Yes, I’m a filthy shipper, and I don’t care who knows it. Lillie and Moon (or Sun) are meant to be, dammit!


*** Hands up if you shed tears at this game’s ending.

...Oh, you liars, get those hands up right now, you’re not fooling anyone!

The Pokemon Series's Pokemon Breeding

Many thanks to Ecclesiastes for letting me bounce ideas about this rant off him. Also to my sister, who, as she always does, generously donated a willing ear and more time than it was worth to listen to and give feedback on this. Both of you rock.



Y’know, Pokemon breeding is seriously fucked up.

Yes, this is another rant about one of those things that the Pokemon series kinda just glosses over, but is actually pretty disturbing. I know, I know, not exactly original...how in the world do we all enjoy and accept as harmless child’s play this bizarre world of enslaved sentients, culturally encouraged dogfighting, dangerously unsupervised preteens, lethally dangerous government buildings, out of control forced domestication of wild animals, and so on? Still, as with the dangerous nature of many Gyms, this is a subject I haven’t seen critiqued often, so, here I am to do my thing. There is no easier target for logic and ethics nitpicking than Pokemon, and I’ll be damned if I’m above beating a dead Ponyta.

You like that? Ah? Pokemon joke? I’m hilarious.

Anyway. Pokemon breeding! The Pokemon games don’t usually go into much detail on the whole Pokemon breeding scene, from what I see and can recall. It’s more directly a part of the Pokemon world that the anime depicts.* In the games, the whole process is kinda just passed off as some miraculous happening, explained in a very carefully vague way. Or at least, it is in Generation 7, and I admit that I just don’t remember how it was explained prior to that...look, gimme a break, I never used the Daycare centers and even I can’t be expected to remember the wording of every RPG tutorial I’ve ever seen. I think I’m safe in assuming that the earlier games didn’t go out on a limb and supplement their audience’s sex ed classes, though.**

Nonetheless, no matter how quietly overlooked it might be, Pokemon breeding is indeed a thing in the games’ world, as evidenced by the fact that there is an entire trainer type called, clearly enough, Pokemon Breeders. And I gotta say, the concept is pretty messed up. The whole idea of animal breeding can be kinda squicky, of course, and I think there are certain aspects of its practice in the real world that just about anyone would admit are questionable. Nonetheless, even if we take a stance in which we’re A-OK with animal breeding in terms of real life, Pokemon breeding is a whole different matter.

See, here’s the thing: when you’re breeding animals, you’re making mating decisions for creatures that generally lack self-aware determination. With most animals, mating decisions are as much made through instinct as anything else they do...it’s highly arguable how much “choice” they have in any aspect of their lives, with or without human intervention. Granted, this is still grounds for philosophical argument of ethics (on a personal level, I don’t like this practice), but the important thing is, you’re not taking a choice away from a being that can really contemplate the concept of choice enough to appreciate it anyway. But with Pokemon breeding, you’re forcing sapient creatures of human or near-human intelligence to mate according to someone else’s will, not theirs!

This isn’t deciding which chickens mate with which chickens to get the best eggs and temperament. This isn’t setting up a blind date for your stupid dog. This is forcing 2 independent, free-willed self-aware entities to reproduce according to the arbitrary whims of a third party, disregarding any and all feelings the actual participants might have on the matter! I’m no legal expert, but I do believe that’s called rape in some circles. Also eugenics, which is its own bag of unpleasantness. But more importantly, the whole robbing free-thinking self-aware individuals of their right to choose reproductive partners thing.

Oh, and yes, Pokemon (a lot of them, at least) are sentient, sapient beings. According to my ever faithful reader, friend, and sounding board Ecclesiastes, Generation 6 tried to backtrack on this issue, and make the line between human intelligence and emotion, and Pokemon intelligence and emotion, a more solid one. Figures it’d be the 1 game generation I’d skip. Nonetheless, even with my ignorance of the game’s events, I call bullshit on that. The Pokedex and general series lore disproves any notion of Pokemon all being intellectually and emotionally inferior to humans, and said dex and lore do this all over the place. Off the top of my head:


-Cubone wears the skull of its deceased mother, showing that it possess both the concept of sentimentalism for objects associated with those it cares about, and understanding of symbolism and how it relates to loss.
-Mimikyu recognizes love and accolades given to Pikachu, and feels jealousy (which is itself a complicated emotion indicative of intelligence). Its attempt to resolve this situation is to craft a costume based on Pikachu. This isn’t unconscious mimicry born from natural selection, this is a conscious decision to visually imitate Pikachu, and obviously the process of creating a costume to wear requires human-level preparation and know-how.
-Absol’s attempts to warn human civilizations of impending dangerous weather requires forethought, empathy beyond biological imperative, and selflessness to a humanlike degree. Absol has to be intelligent enough to recognize human civilization, identify that humans cannot follow weather indicators as well as it can, and devise a plan to warn them. It also must be emotionally complex enough to recognize the potential plights of nearby humans, care about them, want to help them, and choose to devote its time and energy to doing so with absolutely no possible personal gain.
-Primarina, during her (mine was female so deal with it) personal Z-move, stands and takes a bow after her operatic performance. That’s a display of personal pride in what she has done, and pride is, I’m pretty sure, an emotion only confirmed in human-level intelligence. Additionally, it shows a recognition of subtle social gestures and how they are correctly employed, and an understanding of how such gestures add flourish to a performance. This is no trained trick, done with the potential for reward treats in mind; the only motivation she can have in this bow is to acknowledge her accomplishment and performance, and share her satisfaction in it with others. In this 1 tiny motion, Primarina confirms an intelligence that understands cultural gestures, self-aware personal pride, and art.
-Uh, yeah, Rotom does, y’know, talk. And have a clear personality. Like, throughout the entirety of Pokemon: Generation 7. From the moment it possesses your Pokedex, Rotom does more than observe and recite basic Pokemon facts--it also reacts to, comments on, and poses questions about Moon and Lillie’s adventure together. Or Sun and Lillie’s adventure, whichever you went with.


And I want to emphasize again, this is off the top of my head. If I were to categorically go through Pokedex entries and rack my memory for all the details it can provide of the 5 generations I’m familiar with, I’m pretty sure there’d be a substantially longer list of Pokemon who flat-out, hands-down, beyond-question prove that Pokemon are capable of being self-aware, intelligent creatures mentally at humanity’s level (or even higher), and frequently are. But as I am not patently insane and thus have no interest in looking over...what is it now, over 800? Over 800 Pokemon’s worth of codex entries, those 5 examples will have to suffice.

Which brings us back to my point: Pokemon breeding is forcing 2 entities who, in at least some cases, are thinking, feeling, self-aware beings to reproduce together, regardless of what reproductive partner they might have otherwise chosen. And that is pretty messed up, and not okay. It’s either rape, or something really, really close.

Is this the most morally questionable part of the Pokemon world, when analyzed? Probably not; I mean, as deplorable as the idea of disregarding someone’s feelings and desires and assigning them some eugenics pet project mate to propagate with is, this is also the world which endorses pitting intelligent, self-aware individuals against each other in deadly, painful combat to satisfy the whims and vanity of their owners. That trumps even master-race-aiming rape, at least in my opinion. Still, when you think about it, the concept of Pokemon breeding is yet another extremely unsettling aspect of this cheerful children’s series that we perpetually give a free pass to.










* Sort of. The anime, if I recall correctly (be kind if you need to inform me that I’m wrong on this; I haven’t watched Pokemon since the Orange Island arc was the new big thing), depicts the breeding process more as a vague mixture of food preparation, grooming, relaxation methods, and massage (which makes the Pokemon Refresh thing in recent games even more questionable than it already is, I suppose). As far as it shows, you’d never guess that actual sex and reproduction was a part of the process at all.

Then again, are we even sure sex IS a part of Pokemon reproduction? I mean, you can still breed genderless Pokemon in the games using a Ditto as 1 of the parents (which is in itself all kinds of weird), right? So how much does gender actually matter to these things, in terms of creating new ones? And...

...Actually, you know what? I just realized what I’m trying to analyze here, and how deep I’m going with it. And I’m gonna just cut myself off right there. Not worth the cringy shudders I’m gonna eventually give myself if I keep on.


** Although given how inadequate and often negatively exclusive sexual education often is in the USA--and that’s when a school system even bothers to teach it at all--maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad thing if Pokemon games actually had gone into detail about it.