For anyone reading, I have to level with you: I feel like kind of a wretched idiot for writing this. In times like these, art and entertainment and expression and all that beauty is important – crucial even – because joy is important. Every day I walk around with an aching jaw simmering in an uninhabitable rage about AI and union busting and ICE and Palestine and everything in between and how all the little facets of my mostly comfortable life from the food I eat to my job to the ways in which I entertain myself to the things I need to survive are inexorably tied to systems of violence and oppression that stretch so far beyond me it’s almost inconceivable. Almost!
Working in pro wrestling constantly feels like we’re doing a Cabaret thing. Photographing this absurd self-indulgence and trying to hold onto frivolity as a human right rather than an exercise in indifference, while diabolical people do diabolical shit everywhere all the time. In some ways, it’s an obligation against apathy. To show up and do and watch art. Even amongst the frivolity we tell the queer stories, the stories that represent cultures and identities other than our own, told by those people. Stories that, in other forms and in many places and exponentially so, are being suppressed and censored. Just like any other art, I’m grateful to be a part of it.
Art does not technically have to mean anything, the right to create is inherent on its own. Sometimes I like garbage – little substance, mostly sugar, whatever. The older I get, the more lives that touch mine, this ever-unfolding narrative of life in the society I’m a part of, it’s all encouraging me to be more mindful of the art in front of me. I’ve become more thoughtful about the message and author, more appreciative of the details, more open to unconventional narratives.
Back to video games. This year had several games that really stuck out to me, not least of which are the ones that stood out on top. There was a lot of comfort where I sought it and distraction where I needed it. I’m sick of saying (year) was a bad year for me but 2025 was a lot. I got sick for two months, had a remarkably busy summer with wrestling, became closer with a lot of people, moved to a new apartment, got hurt in a very age-defining way (my back), lost one of my two cats to cancer right after PAX West and Bumbershoot, and then bummed around until the end of the year feeling a bit like someone jabbed me really hard in the brain, trying and failing to catch up properly. And around all those events, I played some games so my head didn’t completely blow up.
WEBFISHING
Webfishing rules because it’s in a little box off on my other monitor and I can tab out of it without losing the sound, able to pop in and out when I catch a fish and to cast the line again. And the casual social aspect of it is nice – crowding around on a pier, chatting and showing off some monstrous fish that consumes the entire screen for a moment. For at least a few days every month I have several hours of photo editing to knock out, and Webfishing really helped maintain that momentum by giving my attention somewhere else to go other than doomscrolling tumblr or whatever. Just a little brain hack for you.
Techno Banter
I already wrote about it in a longer piece but Techno Banter is a standout for me. Stylish, chaotic, and funny, with a bright and dreamy visual design. It reminded me of the feeling when your neighborhood becomes your whole world and your world becomes full of people, the thoughts and feelings of whom you can’t even begin to predict. And you might say, well isn’t that everybody? but go ahead and tell me you can’t make a decent estimation on the feelings of some guy on a golf course.
Old Skies
Old Skies is a charming point-and-click from Wadjet Eye about time travel and love. It’s much more character-driven than focused on one big story (though it does tie a lot of the smaller stories together by the end) but these characters are dynamic and emotional. Both the time travel and 9/11 (or rather, 9/10) bits are hard to do well and land right where you want them to, but Old Skies has done it. And, as someone who has been to NYC whopping three whole times, I feel Dave Gilbert’s enduring city spirit all throughout this game.
Immortal John Triptych
Although the fart/cock/ass jokes started to grate beyond my own personal taste occasionally, Four Last Things, The Procession to Calvary, and Death of the Reprobate were at least some of the most unique little gaming experiences I had last year. They are all very funny at times, quite weird at others. I would consider Joe Richardson like a generational iconoclast, a competent wielder of medieval and religious absurdity. The visuals are entirely made up of Renaissance paintings, which is completely fucking bonkers to me, just considering the time and attention that must take, and it turned out gorgeous. No wonder he wanted to die by the end of it.
No Players Online
I have a whole damn interview about it if you’re interested. Basically, I checked it out after hearing about the DMCA takedown issue, and got sucked in whole-heartedly. While it’s labeled as horror, I would describe it more as creepy and atmospheric, and I do appreciate the lack of jump scares, though at times I expected them. The narrative is deeper than it appears on the box, a lingering and lonely story about grief and preoccupation, haunted virtual spaces, with a lot of stylish visuals and a flair for nostalgic desktops.
Until Then
Yet another Filipino banger. It reminds me of A Space for the Unbound in that way, the representation I can’t personally testify to, but I can see its natural and easy incorporation into the setting even in its most mundane details. Until Then is about repetition of grief and ultimately letting go, and the almost (here, used literally) metaphysical strength it can take to do that. There’s a way that Until Then blends the facets of catastrophe and abuse with guilt and the kind of love that would make you jump into a black hole. I also love stories that put teenagers into these roles – sometimes they’re the ones who understand love in its most chaotic and unconditional forms, for better or worse.
Artis Impact
God damn I wish this was longer. It’s interesting and weird, and compact in a way that reminds me of a GBA game or whatever. I love the visuals, the writing is cute and funny, the gameplay is… enough! I don’t love how rushed and aborted the ending is, or that one guy whose whole journey is being a huge misogynist, though it kind of rules that he isn’t teased with some sort of redemption and you just beat his ass instead. Also, I locked myself out of one of the main areas by not being defiant enough at the end of a scripted fight, and I’m not replaying it just for that. But that’s on me, I guess. It’s a very casual RPG, has one-note combat that’s easy to overlevel, with some sim elements that may or may not drive you crazy. I kind of liked that part though. Again, I wish Artis Impact was longer and the narrative (and world, and lore, and characters) fleshed out more, but I enjoyed it a lot and it stands out to me amongst all the other games I played this year.
SpreadCheat
Think spreadsheet math puzzles with 90s corporate absurdism. It’s so short I don’t know what else to say about it, but it’s good and I liked it very much.
Kingdom Come: Deliverance (I & II)
I’m cheating a bit because it’s hard to choose between this and the other top game – this is my favorite game that I played and was released in 2025.
I played both of these in 2025 (technically, I’m about 80% of the way done with II, I’m taking a break to read a specific history book, and because often the best kind of satisfaction is the kind that is not immediately delivered) and after almost 200 hours my thoughts sans indulgence are pretty neatly packed. Its combat is such that once you do the things that make sense (train and get real armor) it gets way more intuitive. For a combat system that has been described frequently as “quite challenging” especially for the first game, I was surprised at myself for how well I picked it up and beat ass. It felt steady, and one-on-one fights held their weight. It’s cool. Admittedly, I have a thing for knights.
As for the indulgence, I just really love the story. It hit me in places I thought I had covered up, especially as the child of very Christian parents, and who is queer in a couple different directions. More on that, eventually. To be honest, I only paid attention to KCD upon hearing the protagonist could have a gay romance in the second game, which was surprising considering the studio and genre. I went into the first game expecting a generic medieval bro atmosphere, and there was some of that, but it lays the foundation of a story about cycles of revenge born from love and loyalty, which isn’t exactly a new story, but it’s well done. Kingdom Come: Deliverance II only amplifies it with really interesting political intrigue and a lot of compassionate interpersonal dynamics. It’s kind and sympathetic as much as it’s bawdy and violent.
The thing about nonstandardized historical concepts like chivalry is it allows you to dream big about how the world used to be. Not in a bad way – I think looking back fondly on what people would have been like and how they moved about their lives is one of the worthwhile parts of studying history in any capacity. I’m sure I have distant ancestors back there somewhere who would be absolutely thrilled at the selection of fruits I have available to me throughout the year, or medicine, or an indoor toilet. Moving throughout the world in KCD2 is deeply immersive. I liked to ride all over the map rather than use fast travel, see the towns and find knights-errant and roving bands of mercenaries and little pockets of people doing their things medieval style. Playing these games felt like genuine escapism, which I needed a lot of this year. That world and the small, beautiful narrative moments about unconventional families and the heavy burden of honor and the ecstasy of revenge all helped to keep my head from blowing up, for sure.
1000xRESIST
I cannot deny, this is my favorite game that I played in 2025.
I started 1000xResist up at a LAN party in Seattle over the summer while I waited for the others to finish up a game of something else and it hooked me instantly. It’s intimate and existential. It’s cosmic and isolating. It’s like biting into something I haven’t eaten since I was a kid and walking around my old neighborhood. It’s about family and inheritance, and loneliness, and sorrow, and protest, and love, and justice, and the end of the world. Every time I put it down, I would think about it until I picked it up again. Looking back at my playtime, I’m shocked it packed so much into a game that’s only about 15 hours long, if that.
1000xRESIST asks questions that don’t have answers, only steps toward and away from some deep intrinsic concept. It actually does the thing I think science fiction itself is best at: exploring the human condition up against otherworldly conditions, against the unfamiliar and unthinkable yet within the orbit of what is, to us, home. So close yet so far away. It goes a step further by exploring the human condition within a vessel within a closed system of one woman’s accumulated and inherited grief. Its surrealism reminds me of many other works that I call fundamental to myself as a person whose interests shape them, and perhaps that’s also why it works so well. Weaving together these chaotic sentiments that flow through and around the sprawling reality of diaspora to the isolated horror of a family torn apart by disaster is no small and graceful feat. The disjointed, unnerving, and abstract forms in which this story is told is so integral to the whole experience that I have internalized it as a prime example of how you can use the medium of video game to make a point in a specific way that couldn’t be made otherwise.
1000xRESIST is so obviously written from the personal perspectives of the authors, but it touches upon so many wounds inherent to any player, really. I cried and sat in silence by the end, feeling that catharsis and the comfort of the story of a kind of kindred spirit. It let a little steam out, brought me back down to Earth where we’re not so different, you and I. It’s a special piece of art I hope remains in conversations about extraordinary writing for many, many years to come.
