Would you ever consider an article on how experience works? I’ve personally found it a bit wonky; I mean, it’s entirely possible to gain massive increases in strength- even potentially changing their entire body- just by defeating the same few Pokemon over and over again. Thoughts?

I don’t know if I want to do a whole thing on it, just because it’s not really a question about Pokémon at all – similar or identical systems are extremely common in RPGs and even appear in other genres.  It’s just one of the basic commonplaces of reducing combat to an abstraction that can be portrayed by a video game (some games actually do try to explain experience points in a way that makes sense in the context of the story, like the Star Wars RPG Knights of the Old Republic II, but it’s often more trouble than it’s worth for the writers).  The word “experience” seems to demonstrate that the basic assumption behind it is pretty simple: the more you do something – such as fighting – the better you get at it.  I think it’s highly unlikely that all the growth we associate with levelling is related to the Pokémon getting physically stronger, tougher or faster, although some of it probably is.  They’re learning to apply their strength more effectively, endure pain with greater focus, and move more precisely with better reaction times.  These are all things people can do too.

Evolution’s the weird part, and I’ve always thought that the way the anime portrays it is our best hope for making sense of that; it regularly seems to be a result of diffusing psychological blocks of one sort or another, of strong desire or desperation to overcome a specific obstacle, or of achieving some new sense of self-awareness (my further thoughts on this in some of my anime commentaries, particularly to The Problem With Paras).  Fighting often means using their powers often, and using their powers often means Pokémon better appreciate their applications and limits, and become more in touch with the forces that allow them to function.  I don’t believe we’re supposed to be able to figure out exactly how it works, particularly not biologically – I’m pretty sure on some level it’s basically magic – but I think we’re meant to see evolution as part of a Pokémon’s realisation of its potential, and battles and experience as one of the fastest ways to understand that potential.

I’m sure you have been asked about it before, but I’d love to see a list similar to “Top Ten Worst Pokemon Ever” in which you give your opinion of the best Pokemon ever, whether it be based upon flavor or actual battle usefulness (or both) is up to you. Presumably it would discount legendaries, because a top 10 best list of all legendaries would just be boring, especially if you’re basing this upon power alone… Anyways, just some food for thought when you’re coming up with future topic ideas.

I think I probably have been asked this before, but I don’t remember exactly.  The main reasons I’ve never tried to do it are because I don’t think I’d be able to narrow it down to ten, and even if I did, I don’t think I’d be able to put them in order.  I mean, really, choose a single “best Pokémon ever”?  Even my “worst Pokémon ever” was kind of a fake-out because I honestly do like a lot of things about the Unown; I just hate the way the games handle them.  The fact is, as much as I bitch about it, Pokémon has a lot more good designs than bad ones, and it helps that I was able to select my top ten worst ones from the relatively small subset of those who are also terrible at everything.  The other thing is that while I’m very sure that the weakest Pokémon contribute little to gameplay, I kind of believe that the very strongest ones are not necessarily a positive influence either – I love Kyogre as a Pokémon, but I would never have let players anywhere near something so powerful.  Even nerfing Drizzle only stops him from totally dominating all the other legendary Pokémon.  I’m not sure where I would draw my line, though – is it my contention that Blaziken is ‘good’?  What about Lucario, or Garchomp?  I’m not sure what the ideal balance point is.

Travel and Stuff

Just flew from Auckland to Cincinnati (total of 30-odd hours on planes and in airports).  Tomorrow I’m flying from Cincinnati to Rome, where I’m doing a three-week summer school course on the documentation and interpretation of architectural remains on archaeological sites.  I’m going to try and write up Aegislash as quickly as possible, since that’s the last Pokémon in the Central Kalos subregion and a good place to pause, but beyond that I make no promises for the speed or regularity of my posts over the next few weeks.

I was just wondering, can you make sense of Graveler’s evolution? It’s a rock monster with six limbs and no visible biological features that suddenly becomes a four-limbed reptilian creature with a rock shell. Sure, there have been other strange evolutions, but at least Remoraid’s evolution is going from one living creature to another, how does one go from being mineral to animal? It just looks like Golem was intended for an entirely separate evolution line.

Hmm.  Faced with a weird evolutionary line in the first generation, my instinct is go to the hex numbers and see what patterns turn up (if anyone’s unfamiliar with what these are, they’re the numbers that represent the order in which Pokémon were originally programmed into Red and Blue, and probably the order in which they were created).  Of the three, Graveler comes first, followed by Golem ten places later.  Both are within the first 1/3 of the sequence, where there are relatively few intact evolutionary families – the only related Pokémon who appear close together this early are male Nidoran and Nidoking, female Nidoran and Nidoqueen, and Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee (who at this stage were ‘related’ but not by evolution).  Some of those designs may even predate the concept of Pokémon evolution, although that’s a very speculative suggestion.  Shortly after Golem, complete families start to occur more often.  Geodude turns up far later, among the final 30 designs, 10 of which didn’t even make it into Red and Blue.  It’s entirely possible, even likely, that Graveler and Golem were not originally conceived as related creatures, and were combined into a single lineage after the fact – something which may actually have happened at a relatively late stage of the games’ development, concurrently with Geodude’s introduction.

Froakie, Frogadier and Greninja

Froakie.

My unfathomable whims have decreed that it’s time to wrap up the Kalos starters.  The third and last is the Kalosian Water-type starter Pokémon, Froakie, a little blue frog with a good head for deception and evasion.  His second form, Frogadier, also happens to have one of the most fun English names to say of the entire sixth generation, energetically tripping off the tongue in the same way as Octillery or Galvantula.  As for the fully adult ninja frog… well, at some point, quite early on, I realised that the pink scarf thing around Greninja’s neck is probably his long froggy tongue, and ever since then I’ve been so weirded out by it that I can never quite accept him without doing a nervous double take.  I’m now forced, whenever I see him, to contemplate the mental image of my own tongue stretched out to twenty times its normal length and wrapped a couple of times around my neck.  I can see what it adds to the design; ninja are regularly portrayed with masks or headbands that leave strips of cloth fluttering free, and the tongue allows Greninja to mimic that appearance, while also providing a visually striking colour contrast between its bright pink and the deep blue of his body.  Hell, if my tongue went that well with my outfit, maybe I would wear it as a scarf.  Anyway.  Past Water starters have generally been bulky Pokémon with a ‘tough guy’ aesthetic, so Froakie’s very different take on the type is a welcome bit of diversity, and also establishes him as a very different Pokémon from either Chespin or Fennekin.  Let’s take a closer look.

 The legendary ninja Jiraiya atop his majestic giant frog steed.

These Pokémon are ninja frogs.  Frogs and ninja are connected in a variety of modern fiction, apparently because of one very famous ninja hero from Japanese folktale, Jiraiya, who was the subject of a classic Japanese novel of the 19th century (which, as is the way of such things, was only loosely based on a wide variety of different version of older tales).  Jiraiya seems to have had a thing for frogs and toads; he supposedly had the power to transform into a toad, and is often depicted riding a giant magical toad whom he saved from a marauding serpent.  Snakes as villains seem to be a unifying thread of the Jiraiya tradition.  In fact, one sequence in the 19th century novel even describes a rock-paper-scissors relationship – almost exactly like the one that exists between trios of starter Pokémon – between Jiraiya’s frog powers, the snake powers of the story’s villain Orochimaru (which are apparently strong against frog and toad magic), and the slug and snail powers of Jiraiya’s love interest Tsunate (which can overcome snake magic, for reasons which I imagine made perfect sense at the time).  Or something.  Look, I haven’t actually read it; I just looked for summaries on the internet.  What do you people want from me?  The fact that Froakie, Greninja and Frogadier seem to be referencing Jiraiya makes me wonder whether there’s any significance to the presence, in the previous starter trio, of a snake Pokémon whose powers can defeat theirs – Serperior.  Obviously Serperior wasn’t designed with such a relationship in mind, but maybe Greninja’s creators got a kick out of it – and if they did, they would probably also have noted that there are slug and snail Pokémon in the game as well, and that these Pokémon, although not actually starters, are Fire-types.  Although it’s rather a stretch to think that they planned it this way, Greninja, as well as being a starter, actually completes a weird little cross-generational trio of his own.

Anyway, that’s why ninja frogs are a thing.

A Water-type ninja as one of the sixth generation starters is also an interesting choice following the Water-type samurai we got in Unova, Samurott, given that samurai and ninja tend to be set up as opposites in popular culture – samurai are seen as large, powerful warriors, devoted to honour and often more than a little flamboyant, while ninja are depicted as stealthy, agile, deliberately understated, and perhaps more unscrupulous.  Water seems like it should be a natural element for that kind of Pokémon; it’s changeable, being the only substance in nature that exists on Earth as a solid, a liquid, and a gas, it flows around obstacles as easily as smashing through them (as Misty explains at length to a rival Fire trainer in the anime episode Some Like it Hot), and it is regularly associated with subtlety and deception.  The mutable nature of water is particularly evident in Greninja’s signature move, Water Shuriken, which magically compresses water into sharp-edged discs that slice through his enemies’ flesh with pinpoint accuracy.  Bulky, powerful Water Pokémon that draw on the unparalleled fury of a stormy sea are common, but ones focussing on the constantly shifting, intangible nature of water are few and far between; the only ones I can think of are Golduck, Vaporeon and possibly Starmie and Jellicent.  Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, but I find it surprising that Water Pokémon like Greninja aren’t more common, and the contrast between Greninja and Samurott almost seems to draw attention to it. 

 Frogadier.

Chesnaught and Delphox are both perfectly competent, as starters normally are, but Greninja has hit the jackpot.  He seems made to be a mixed attacker, employing both physical and special attacks to confound heavy wall Pokémon who focus on only one side of their defences, although his movepool pushes him much more towards a special focus.  His special attack is great, his attack isn’t far behind, and he’s so fast that he can probably afford not to invest the greatest possible effort in speed, leaving more to divide between his attack stats if you want to pick up one or two of his physical moves.  His need for heavy speed training is further diminished by Water Shuriken, which gives him access to a fairly strong physical priority attack.  Because Water Shuriken is a multi-hit attack, its power fluctuates a great deal; it will sometimes be weaker than Aqua Jet, though not by much, and it will usually be stronger, sometimes by quite a lot.  The truly lovely thing about Greninja isn’t his stats, though; it’s his hidden ability.  Chesnaught and Delphox have pretty neat hidden abilities, but Greninja’s blows both out of the water.  It’s called Protean, an English adjective derived from the name of shapeshifting Greek ocean god Proteus, and it automatically changes his type to match that of any move he’s about to use.  Effectively, Greninja gets STAB (Same-Type Attack Bonus, +50% damage) on everything and, thanks to his excellent speed, can sometimes shift his type to gain resistance or immunity to incoming attacks, hopefully keeping his lacklustre defences from having their full impact – but bear in mind that he’ll always have his native Water/Dark typing when he switches in; Pokémon with actual resistances or immunities are safer.  Basically, it’s like Kecleon’s Colour Change, only it’s actually useful (and, indeed, Kecleon now shares Protean as his Dream World ability and gets to suck a little bit less).  Of course, life’s a bit grim if you want to use the Froakie you got from Professor Sycamore, whose ability will be Torrent, but hey, no-one ever said Pokémon was fair.

Protean Greninja can use both physical and special attacks of any type with roughly equal competence, though his physical movepool leaves much to be desired (maybe future games will change that).  Surf, Hydro Pump, Dark Pulse, Ice Beam and Extrasensory form the core of his offensive capability.  Grass Knot punishes other Water types, provided they belong to high weight classes, although be careful they don’t return fire with Ice Beam after you become a Grass-type.  Hidden Power deserves special mention on Greninja because of the way it can be used to exploit Protean; if you want Greninja to be able to shift his type to resist, say, Dragon attacks, which would otherwise be impossible since he doesn’t learn any Fairy or Steel attacks, you can try to trade or breed for a Greninja with Hidden Power: Fairy and net him a quasi-immunity [EDIT: I HAVE MISLED YOU; Hidden Power cannot take a Fairy type, probably because that would have meant reassigning all the other types to different personality values and therefore screwing up Pokémon with Hidden Power transferred from older games].  Water Shuriken and Power-Up Punch are the high points of his physical movepool – trying to use a pure physical Greninja is a bad idea since his physical moves just aren’t very powerful, but Power-Up Punch will spell doom for any Blissey who thinks she can take you, and again, Water Shuriken is on average pretty powerful for a priority attack.  U-Turn is worth it whether you’re training his attack stat or not, because free switches are always welcome.  Acrobatics is difficult to use at the moment because Flying Gems don’t exist on X and Y and it’s depressingly weak if you can’t reliably use up Greninja’s item, but when Game Freak gets around to introducing gems in the sixth generation, it could be interesting.  Rock Slide and Night Slash are there, but just not powerful enough to be worth it.

 Greninja.

Support duty almost seems like a waste of Greninja’s amazing offensive potential, but he has a couple of very helpful support moves – most importantly, Spikes and Toxic Spikes; one or both could find its way onto a moveset to amplify his own and other Pokémon’s offensive potential.  He also gets Taunt and has the speed to use it effectively, anticipating and cancelling support moves coming from defensive Pokémon.  There’s a second signature move that deserves a mention, if only to explain why it shouldn’t be used – Mat Block, which references the ninja technique of blocking a thrown weapon by flipping up one of the woven straw mats used as flooring in traditional Japanese houses.  Mat Block is only useful in double or triple battles, where it acts as a sort of mass Protect attack, guarding all of your active Pokémon from damage… with three important flaws: 1) it doesn’t have priority, so anything that outruns Greninja can bypass it, 2) it doesn’t block status moves, so stuff like Thunder Wave and Will’o’Wisp can bypass it, and most importantly 3) like Fake Out, it can only be used on the first turn after Greninja enters play, something the move’s description conveniently neglects to mention and leaves players to discover for themselves.  Don’t worry, Chesnaught and Delphox – Greninja may have two signature moves to your one, but the second is nothing to be jealous of.

Before we wrap up today, I promised I’d talk at some point about the starters as a group, and in particular about the warrior/spellcaster/rogue interpretation that has become so popular: the idea that Chesnaught, Delphox and Greninja are based on a trio of common roles or classes from role-playing games.  Chesnaught is the warrior, fighter, knight or whatever; Delphox is the wizard, sorcerer, or black mage, and Greninja is the thief, rogue or assassin.  Strength, magic, and skill, the classic three fantasy RPG archetypes.  You can divide some other starter trios along similar lines – Venusaur, Charizard and Blastoise, for example, could be parsed as spellcaster, rogue/scout/fast warrior (remembering that Charizard originally had only average special attack in Red and Blue) and knight/paladin/bulky warrior; Meganium, Typhlosion and Feraligatr work as white mage, black mage and warrior.  For that reason, and also because the Pokémon community is often overeager to construct patterns out of things (says the guy who writes character studies and lengthy speculative discussions of this stuff), I was a little sceptical of the idea at first, though in the end the set of human-influenced designs – knight, witch and ninja – make this way of looking at things particularly appropriate to the sixth generation, and it’s entirely plausible that RPG classes were, if not the creators’ starting point, at least an influence.  To me, all of this is just one example of a general principle of designing starter trios: the starter Pokémon occupies a place of special importance as your partner and as the first point of contact most players have with the game, so it’s vital that everyone (or at least as many people as possible) be able to find one that appeals to them.  To that end, it’s sensible to have starter trios with strongly contrasting aesthetics, fighting styles and personalities.  Sceptile, Infernape and Greninja, for example, would make a poor starter trio because they’re all different takes on the same idea – a fast, active warrior-type.  They continue to be nicely designed Pokémon in themselves, and nothing can diminish their individual appeal, but they don’t provide the same breadth of choice.  Some people would love all three, others wouldn’t like any of them.  A trio of Torterra, Emboar and Swampert would be similarly ill-conceived.  The existence of fighter/magic-user/rogue as a recognisable trope has its roots in the same basic concept; RPG players want to be able to play a hero whose powers have particular appeal to them.  People like choice; it’s really pretty simple.  They also like not to be penalised for their choices, which is where the notion of game balance comes into it, but that’s another topic entirely.

I quite like this Pokémon, in spite of his alarming combined approach to fashion and oral hygiene.  Frogadier makes the cute-to-badass transition remarkably smoothly in comparison to what most starters manage, and the ninja frog thing is a bit weird if you’re not in on the joke, as it were, but was very interesting to learn about.  As for his battle capabilities… well, Protean is a game-changer, there’s no other way to describe it.  Expect Greninja to make a serious impact on any battle he sticks his aqueous ninja stars into.

What type of music you like? I can imagine you as a totally closeted sugar-pop fan. C’mon. Admit it. You love a bit of Katy Perry don’t you.

Honestly, I’ve never really been interested in music as a ‘thing’.  For reasons I don’t really understand, I don’t quite get it on some level.  When I listen to a song I’m always straining to make out the lyrics, because it’s only the words that are meaningful to me, and in the case of a lot of pop songs the lyrics are total nonsense.  A piece of music only means something to me once it’s connected to a story or an experience.  In isolation it’s just noise.