Do you truly equate progress with complexity, when it comes to games?
Complexity is a required ingredient for progress, even if the most complex games are not necessarily the best ones right now. From complexity you can derive more depth (which is in other words "meaningful complexity", complexity in mechanics which is not immediately superfluous) and more gripping immersion (nothing is more complex than the reality videogames try to supplant). These together provide stimulation. Some games can capitalize more of its limited complexity by being deep (2D action games, small-scale tactics games for some examples), but this doesn't really apply to extremely (and purposefully) shallow games. Remember my problem with these two games is that they only work on any level after sacrificing what makes games great. To celebrate them as the best is to sell complex games short.
If these have really had such a profound impact on gaming and are, in fact, taking games backwards, where are their imitators? Where is this impact being seen, currently? Is it all potential negative impacts based on the buzz surrounding them?
Was there a significant impact caused by Shadow of the Colossus, as well (positive or negative)? I think it could fit snuggly next to the Walking Dead and Journey when it comes to its minimal systems and a focus on presentation before gameplay. All I ever really saw come from it was a lot of people saying they liked it.
What I'm saying is not so much that these games have a special impact, but what they show us. They are capitalizing on the changing nature of how people (although I'm mainly speaking about the "critics") view games. If nothing else (although I would argue against its inclusion in such company) Shadow of the Colossus's hyperbolic reception (and perhaps elements of how people received story heavy games in the past) was an early example of this, an outlier then. We are in a very different environment now than we were in when SotC came out. "Indie" as a marketing sensation is in full effect (even when games are directly backed by 1st party publishers) and downloadables being fully established allows people to remove a lot of the risk of making a cheap game which betrays expectations. A prime time for novelty chasers.
Journey, Dear Esther, or To the Moon, for just a few examples, convey more emotional complexity than any of the AAA, focus-tested blockbusters that you would seem to prefer.
You use a very limited application of "emotion". Certain brands of artistry try to claim ownership over what "emotion" is, often limiting it to sappy sentimentality things of less grandeur specialize in (which of course is joined by the attempt to demonize big budget things, as if greatness doesn't come at a cost). The truth it is every game's objective is to generate emotion and every one of them succeeds at this to varying degrees of quality. The idea that the goal of competitive multiplayer in Call of Duty is to create emotion might seem alien to someone reading this, but that's because of a now very old misunderstanding deeply engrained into the criticism of other mediums (much like "art" bullshit).
Journey, Dear Esther, and To the Moon are all bad (in some cases truly repugnant) games because the emotions they produce are comparatively weak (so I wouldn't say it has "more emotion") to losing yourself in a more consuming game ("shootbang" may or may not be included). They are less stimulating, sentimentality and all. What these games usually lack is any real depth to interactivity and feedback, removing an opportunity for players to release or sharpen their strength. In other words, they are less fun (btw, I'm more or less defining what fun is here, which I will bring up again). What they do provide is something "new", in theory anyway.
Is this, however, invalidated in advance by the fact that they lack a half-dozen types of jumps, a vast array of weaponry, and an extensive leveling system? What good are such elements when they are put to shallow ends, full of polygons and button-presses, signifying nothing?
These systems are tools in place to enhance the pleasure one get from the game. Sometimes people use the word "shallow" to attack what is honest and natural. So wanting to make yourself feel good might be thought of as shallow. What I'm seeing here is nihilism.
What these games produce is something conceptually complex, but mechanically minimalist, much like those painted "monstrosities" on the walls of MOMA that you decry.
Your idea of "conceptually complex" leaves a lot of room for nonsense (a space as endless as the human imagination, even!) of which none of it actually can be shown to exist in a perceivable (non-sense) "reality" (a painting in this case). So yes, with that, people can point to something that looks like it was drawn by a child (or worse, frankly) and say it holds some deep truth about the universe and the human experience (although it would make more sense just to study the universe and humans instead).
While your ideal games are blundering around in the dark, using their clockwork systems in search of endless iotas of "fun," these "dead ends" are illuminating new provinces of experience.
This sentence in particular slays me. To say games with good mechanics (oh no, mechanics... like a clock! Or like our understanding of the sciences) are blundering is quite silly. The ideal games (and a whole bunch of the mediocre ones) are succeeding at generating great amounts of pleasure. To say that this is in "darkness", well, like I think I spoke about nihilism...
Here you seem to demean "fun". I on the other hand would say there is nothing more important than having fun. This is true not only in games, but life itself. Would you balk at the idea that humans live to have fun? That "above all, a living thing wants to discharge its strength"? We have to look at what "fun" really is (especially since it is so often associated with "dumbness") and that requires looking at human nature at some point if it is going to be challenged every step of the way, but I won't explore this very far because talking philosophy will only serve to make myself fringed on GAF (plus I'm not sure how well I could do it).
Usually when I break down a post into a few quotes like that it means the conversation is too much work to be worth continuing for long. That is what happens when there is little common ground, you have to seemingly attack every concept (and I hold very little common ground with someone who doesn't find modern art grotesque).
All this said with a Duke Nuke 'Em face.
Look at this wretched human.
well, the point of what you quoted is that the bond between you and another player charges your scarf, the proximity of the other player charges it up which naturally brings you closer together to the other player. you can then dance and skip and fly in the sky together, never touching the ground as you sing a duet. this is how the game is arguably meant to be played, and is something you are incapable of doing alone, without practice, or without the realization of it.
One way Journey fails is that the game doesn't make good use of this at all. Good cooperation games test you on your ability to cooperate. The bond between players become stronger when it must endure challenges and adversity. Though I must admit if I were to voice examples it wouldn't quite sound like a ballerina performance.