Zero Parades: For Dead Spies
Zero Parades, like Disco Elysium, feels like a genuinely creative endeavour. It's written by novelists and poets and its visually identity is forged in the spirit of fine art. Inasmuch as its predecessor is worth mentioning, its sordid corporate drama becoming more and more tiresome as the days go by, it is as a creative reference point. And in that sense Zero Parades honours this creative legacy. This is a game that puts significant resources into areas other games disregard. It may not be the summation of a person's life work, lacking the exceptional vitality of that hail mary desperation, but it is the product of genuine thought and creativity. Where Esoteric Ebb has the serial killer's eye for the qualities it thinks this kind of game should possess, Zero Parades embodies them naturally.
ZA/UM are corporate shitebags who deserve nothing but contempt, but much like many of the other corporate shitebags that bankroll the things we love, they've facilitated the production of a rich and beautiful thing. So thank you, the individuals who made this game. I hope you are remunerated in the ways that suit you. And no, ZA/UM, I will not be buying from whatever cynical merchandising operation you extract from this fruitful labour.