I was just on TVTropes (no linkage, you'll all die from old age if I did) and I discovered that the French military uses the FAMAS. Now, I, like any good, self-respecting Scotsman-that-lives-in-the-USA, hate the spoiled cheese out of the French. But this is the gun of Solid Snake, so the French have just Taken A Level In Badass for me.
That is all.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Epic Fail on SH:SM
No, the title does NOT mean Sado-Maso. It means Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. What that means is a game that promises to be scary. What it delivers... is not quite such.
The game starts off with a psychological profile, something that I can really appreciate. Anyway, some people (Adam fucking Sessler) say that this makes the game worse, but I think that it's a nice little touch. IE: choosing the basic background of a sexually-repressed person (not my original choice, but I decided I wanted to see Freudian imagery) leads to a nice little mindfuck. It's not really going to just jump out at you and slap you in the mouth with it's cock, but it's going to sit there, waiting for you. I like it especially because, well, all the little details conform to you. Yes, yes, I know it would've been scarier to a sexually-repressed man to be chased down a giant birth canal by fanged, screaming cunts, but that would take... editing. Also, there's hardly any blood in this game, and that would also be messy. Probably.
The game is not really that scary, and some have derided the main enemies, which I personally found to be unnerving, but not outright scary, but an even bigger source of derision came from the fact that you can only be attacked when your screen goes blue and you know that you're in what my friend quickly dubbed "The Other Twilight Zone". Now, wait, I thought this was a fucking Silent Hill game?
Combat has been replaced with running away, which is good, considering this is a Wii game, but I always thought that the combat in SH was part of what made it great: desperate flailing away at a vastly-superior force felt SCARY.
They got rid of that hooded cunt, which is good. They took out monsters, which is bad. They took out combat, which is both good and bad. They have a psych profile, but don't utilize it to it's fullest potential, which is bad. The monsters aren't SH2 caliber, which is bad (and impossible, so I'll let that one go).
In short, good, ambitious attempt, but it falls short.
6/10
Stay tuned, I'm gonna do Red Dead Revolver next!
The game starts off with a psychological profile, something that I can really appreciate. Anyway, some people (Adam fucking Sessler) say that this makes the game worse, but I think that it's a nice little touch. IE: choosing the basic background of a sexually-repressed person (not my original choice, but I decided I wanted to see Freudian imagery) leads to a nice little mindfuck. It's not really going to just jump out at you and slap you in the mouth with it's cock, but it's going to sit there, waiting for you. I like it especially because, well, all the little details conform to you. Yes, yes, I know it would've been scarier to a sexually-repressed man to be chased down a giant birth canal by fanged, screaming cunts, but that would take... editing. Also, there's hardly any blood in this game, and that would also be messy. Probably.
The game is not really that scary, and some have derided the main enemies, which I personally found to be unnerving, but not outright scary, but an even bigger source of derision came from the fact that you can only be attacked when your screen goes blue and you know that you're in what my friend quickly dubbed "The Other Twilight Zone". Now, wait, I thought this was a fucking Silent Hill game?
Combat has been replaced with running away, which is good, considering this is a Wii game, but I always thought that the combat in SH was part of what made it great: desperate flailing away at a vastly-superior force felt SCARY.
They got rid of that hooded cunt, which is good. They took out monsters, which is bad. They took out combat, which is both good and bad. They have a psych profile, but don't utilize it to it's fullest potential, which is bad. The monsters aren't SH2 caliber, which is bad (and impossible, so I'll let that one go).
In short, good, ambitious attempt, but it falls short.
6/10
Stay tuned, I'm gonna do Red Dead Revolver next!
Monday, April 26, 2010
I Hate The Internets Sometimes
This damn internet here at the National Hispanic University (don't ask). Or maybe this damn computer. Ah well, either way, I don't suppose it really matters that much. Can somebody tell me why an applet will run FINE for like an hour and a half, and then just arbitrarily decide not to work? Most annoying thing ever. I'm so pissed I'm making the wall vibrate from how hard I'm typing. FUCKER!
In other news, Tony Stark built this in a CAVE! With a BOX OF SCRAPS!
In other news, Tony Stark built this in a CAVE! With a BOX OF SCRAPS!
Still Alive
Been a while. Turned 17, almost got a shiney new girlfriend, then fucked that up. Uohh... am writing comics, kinda. Lessee, gotta be something that I can review... OU! I saw Kickass on Friday! It was, well, kickass. Very funny, but not in the way that you expect. Honestly, one of Nick Cage's best performances ever, but not his best. Certainly his... strangest. They basically copied the comic with different costumes for Hit-Girl, Big Daddy, and Red Mist, and let BD keep his supercop persona as the real one, but other than that, it was the comic. Oh, and Red Mist is... less evil, shall we say?
I think that Nick Cage only takes the best and worst roles offered to him as some kind of weird sociological experiment. I don't know what the aim of this experiment is, but by fuck, it exists. It's the only logical solution.
SHARKS WON, BITCH! COLORADO CAN SUCK MY BALLS!
Moved today. Not fun. I hate moving, but at least we're in the middle of everything. Only 5 minutes away from Barnes & Nobles and Camera 7. The only two places I ever go to anyway. Now I just need a job and a girl and I'll be set to go.
Also, somebody kill Rob Liefeld (still) and James Cameron (still), please.
I think that Nick Cage only takes the best and worst roles offered to him as some kind of weird sociological experiment. I don't know what the aim of this experiment is, but by fuck, it exists. It's the only logical solution.
SHARKS WON, BITCH! COLORADO CAN SUCK MY BALLS!
Moved today. Not fun. I hate moving, but at least we're in the middle of everything. Only 5 minutes away from Barnes & Nobles and Camera 7. The only two places I ever go to anyway. Now I just need a job and a girl and I'll be set to go.
Also, somebody kill Rob Liefeld (still) and James Cameron (still), please.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Oh, Sony. When Will You People LEARN?
You guys remember that time that the Wii experimented with games that gave their players full control of their avatar's motions via 1:1 sensitivity? Great. Do you ALSO remember how everyone hated it?
See, Video Game Industry, the thing about motion controllers is... 1:1 control, in theory, sounds AWESOME. Full control over my sword-swings? Manual aiming at last? The ability to seduce (IN REAL TIME) every female in Mass Effect? Hell yes, I'll take two. But, here's the dark, depressing truth: gamers are not the Hero of Tamriel; gamers are not Soap MacTavish; what gamers are, however, are fantasy/sci-fi enthusiasts who are in love with being able to pretend they are these characters without being insulted for their lack of real-world skill with a sword or a gun.
The problem with every motion-controller game is we don't know how to swing a katana in such a way that we cleave into a Nazi's delicious, un-stabby-ized neck meat. (well, I don't, anyway...)
So, I say, enough with full immersion. I just want to be able to end the Reaper threat. And it's a lot easier to do that if Commander Shepard isn't being played by a twitchy, nervous n3w8.
And on a side-note... BioWare: who do I have to do what to to get to find out anything about Mass Effect 3 or Dragon Age 2? Because I will. BioWare Crack Whores Anonymous, AWAY!
See, Video Game Industry, the thing about motion controllers is... 1:1 control, in theory, sounds AWESOME. Full control over my sword-swings? Manual aiming at last? The ability to seduce (IN REAL TIME) every female in Mass Effect? Hell yes, I'll take two. But, here's the dark, depressing truth: gamers are not the Hero of Tamriel; gamers are not Soap MacTavish; what gamers are, however, are fantasy/sci-fi enthusiasts who are in love with being able to pretend they are these characters without being insulted for their lack of real-world skill with a sword or a gun.
The problem with every motion-controller game is we don't know how to swing a katana in such a way that we cleave into a Nazi's delicious, un-stabby-ized neck meat. (well, I don't, anyway...)
So, I say, enough with full immersion. I just want to be able to end the Reaper threat. And it's a lot easier to do that if Commander Shepard isn't being played by a twitchy, nervous n3w8.
And on a side-note... BioWare: who do I have to do what to to get to find out anything about Mass Effect 3 or Dragon Age 2? Because I will. BioWare Crack Whores Anonymous, AWAY!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Reason I Like Joe Quesada (Temporarily)
To the horror of fanboys everywhere, recently, Spider-Man made a deal with Mephisto. If you haven't read this story, don't: it sucks. But it sucks in the same way that Hal Jordan becoming Parallax: it gave us a new Kyle Rayner moment.
Because I hate this storyline, I'll use the slightly-better-contrived plot from Emerald Twilight. Hal Jordan, current (and intensely unpopular with readers) Green Lantern, has his home-town of Coast City destroyed by Mongul. What follows plays out a lot like a Disney Acid Sequence (DAS): you freak out, let it take it's course, and somewhere along the line, 15 minutes later, your brain kicks in again with no real memory of what just happened.
ANYWAY. Hal Jordan goes Axe Crazy. And I don't mean "heeeeere's Johnny" crazy, either. He goes crazy on a level usually reserved for Chuck Norris power-levels. He becomes a 12.0 on the 10.0 scale of MANLINESS. And by this, I mean of course that he remorselessly tracks down and slaughters every one of the GLC for their rings. Why does he do this? Who the hell cares? It's awesome in a way that only this picture can encompass.
The entire point of this rant, getting back to Marvel comics once again, is that both of these storylines did something for me personally. The key word here is ME. I, like many of my fellows, hated Hal Jordan. (Well, I hated him when I read the comics. I was, like, 8 at the time.) However, I loooove Kyle Rayner. But, as my colleague Linkara once said, "[The fans] liked Kyle Rayner, they just weren't happy about what they had to go through to get him!"
I always agreed with Joe Quesada on one thing: Mary Jane SUCKS. Seriously, look at what's happened to her in comics since his reign began. This (forgetting that she's married and all) is only the latest in a long string of abuses heaped upon poor, poor MJ.
I hate the One More Day storyline for what it represents, yes: executive dickery with plots. However, I bet you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this rant, so I'll wrap it up.
I have four words for you.
Black. Cat. Is. Sexy.
And now that he's no longer even cognizant of the idea that he could've been at any time considering the notion of contemplating marriage to MJ, he's free to hook up with Black Cat again. You know, like how it was, back in the good ol' days? And now we won't have to go through that falling-out stage of Mary-Jane wondering why Pete chose the interesting female lead over her.
Vilify me and Joe if you want. Call us philistines, monsters, irreverent of the fandom. Call us things that would make R. Lee Earmy blush. But I know what I like, and what I like is more issues of oh-so-self-insertable scenes of Black Cat and Spider-Man intermittently kicking ass and making out.
Oh, and she beat down Sabretooth this one time. And during Peter's marriage, she told MJ (her friend, no less!) that she was GOING to sleep with Peter. And you know what? Thanks to the gigantic memory loss concerning the marriage and Peter's revealing of his identity during a certain Civil War...
SHE DID.
I love the potential of what we can do with this new, open-to-Felicia-Hardy-related-romps world that you've created, Joe. Now, never do anything that stupid ever again as breaking up MJ and Peter with Mephisto, or I'll have you're face. I know Moon Knight. Don't get smart with me, or you'll be calling yourself Bushman for the rest of your life.
Because I hate this storyline, I'll use the slightly-better-contrived plot from Emerald Twilight. Hal Jordan, current (and intensely unpopular with readers) Green Lantern, has his home-town of Coast City destroyed by Mongul. What follows plays out a lot like a Disney Acid Sequence (DAS): you freak out, let it take it's course, and somewhere along the line, 15 minutes later, your brain kicks in again with no real memory of what just happened.
ANYWAY. Hal Jordan goes Axe Crazy. And I don't mean "heeeeere's Johnny" crazy, either. He goes crazy on a level usually reserved for Chuck Norris power-levels. He becomes a 12.0 on the 10.0 scale of MANLINESS. And by this, I mean of course that he remorselessly tracks down and slaughters every one of the GLC for their rings. Why does he do this? Who the hell cares? It's awesome in a way that only this picture can encompass.
The entire point of this rant, getting back to Marvel comics once again, is that both of these storylines did something for me personally. The key word here is ME. I, like many of my fellows, hated Hal Jordan. (Well, I hated him when I read the comics. I was, like, 8 at the time.) However, I loooove Kyle Rayner. But, as my colleague Linkara once said, "[The fans] liked Kyle Rayner, they just weren't happy about what they had to go through to get him!"
I always agreed with Joe Quesada on one thing: Mary Jane SUCKS. Seriously, look at what's happened to her in comics since his reign began. This (forgetting that she's married and all) is only the latest in a long string of abuses heaped upon poor, poor MJ.
I hate the One More Day storyline for what it represents, yes: executive dickery with plots. However, I bet you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this rant, so I'll wrap it up.
I have four words for you.
Black. Cat. Is. Sexy.
And now that he's no longer even cognizant of the idea that he could've been at any time considering the notion of contemplating marriage to MJ, he's free to hook up with Black Cat again. You know, like how it was, back in the good ol' days? And now we won't have to go through that falling-out stage of Mary-Jane wondering why Pete chose the interesting female lead over her.
Vilify me and Joe if you want. Call us philistines, monsters, irreverent of the fandom. Call us things that would make R. Lee Earmy blush. But I know what I like, and what I like is more issues of oh-so-self-insertable scenes of Black Cat and Spider-Man intermittently kicking ass and making out.
Oh, and she beat down Sabretooth this one time. And during Peter's marriage, she told MJ (her friend, no less!) that she was GOING to sleep with Peter. And you know what? Thanks to the gigantic memory loss concerning the marriage and Peter's revealing of his identity during a certain Civil War...
SHE DID.
I love the potential of what we can do with this new, open-to-Felicia-Hardy-related-romps world that you've created, Joe. Now, never do anything that stupid ever again as breaking up MJ and Peter with Mephisto, or I'll have you're face. I know Moon Knight. Don't get smart with me, or you'll be calling yourself Bushman for the rest of your life.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The "My Immortal" Experiment-- You Bastards Owe Me For This One
Alright, I'm going to be doing this stream of consciousness, as I listen to it. Even with all my anger, I'm not strong enough in the Metal to overcome the horror of "My Immortal" in text form. So I'm suffering through the dramatic readings of it. I hope to god this thing isn't more than forty chapters. And yet, I somehow think it mihgt. Only half-way through chapter 2, and the writer, henceforth pronounced "she", or "the Dark One", or something of the type and OH MY GOD I JUST DIED HEARING THIS LAST EXCHANGE BETWEEN HER AND DRACO MALFOY (cause it's a fanfic, people!) THAT MAKES ME WANT TO KILL MYSLEF. Anyway, back on topic, she's got at least 50 horrific misspellings and she's taken asides to describe her clothes and makeup. Slit wrists, really? Apparently, Goths drink human blood.
(Oh, quick note of aside-yness: I am not a Goth, but I am aware of what they are. I like them more than Emos anyway. They do not shop at Hot Topic, or listen to Good Charlotte or Marilyn Manson, or care about anybodies' opinion [which is why we should leave them the fuck alone and concentrate on fighting the scuorge of both our existnecs, Emos])
Car has changed TYPE!
Going to have an aside to explain what the fuck is going on, huh bitch? Good plan. Why is she spelling evything Goff? And oh crhist, now the porn has started. Dumbledore just asked "wat the hell r u doin u motherfukkers?"
My soul is dying. I can FUCKING FEEL IT WITHERING!
Also I like Harry Potter: pointing out: Slytherin's dorm is in the dungeons. Dumbledore's office is on the fifth floor. (And fuck off if you say HP is bullshit, you uncultured cunts. It's sodding BRILLIANT.)
BLOOOOOOOD.
Slamming my fukking brain against computre right now.
Haryy Poter is now caledd Vampier. Evretnihg is becomnig disjnoited.
Mary Sue FOR THE WIN! GOD MODE SUE! GOD MODE SUE WILL SEE US TOWARD THE LIGHT!
Adverbs will kill me. Oh please, bitch. You get all pudrsih about acutally saynig penis and pussy after you pull out dis ovver shyt? Guy doing dramtaic reading is breaknig down wif laguhetr. Hermione's real name is Hermione's real name is Hermione's real name is *SLAP* Hermione Smith, and she's really a Stanasit vamprie.
God let this be wirtetn by a porfsseional troll.
"Vlodemort gave me a gun". Vlodemort has telekinesis, and spaeks wif thees and thous and I'm glitching bang bang rather watch babies eat eachother nytng but this crycrycrycrycry.
She actually has to tell us what the fukk shes thinking on the plot. Draco is silting his rits. And also had a gay filng wif Harry and everyone es a vampire. ENOUGH ASIDES WITH THE PLOT TO THE DISBELIEVING AUDIENCE BITCH. "See is ths chptr is shrupid!" YES PLEASE COMMIT SUICIDE SO THIS DAMN SOTRY STOPS. Loopin and Snap are apparently masticating to her taking a bath. "Abra Kadabra" shouts Loopin. Hargrid is magical. She shoots everyone. Hargrid is a Stanasit. 50 Cent did a gothic song? Slightly confusing is a fucking udnrestaemnet.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH taking a break for a few minutes. Looking back at what I wrote, I'm seeing a lot of red lines. This thing has lowered my brain-power. Suddenly, I think that this might not have been the best idea. Sorry for the spelling errors, but I won't delete them because, hey, it's a visual reminder of the destructive power of this "story". Its like reading something written by one of my ex-girlfriends, who's name is Jillian Smith and she lives somewhere in Illinois and this is her twitter page. See? I am a merciful God-- I give you a face to direct your hate at.
(Oh, quick note of aside-yness: I am not a Goth, but I am aware of what they are. I like them more than Emos anyway. They do not shop at Hot Topic, or listen to Good Charlotte or Marilyn Manson, or care about anybodies' opinion [which is why we should leave them the fuck alone and concentrate on fighting the scuorge of both our existnecs, Emos])
Car has changed TYPE!
Going to have an aside to explain what the fuck is going on, huh bitch? Good plan. Why is she spelling evything Goff? And oh crhist, now the porn has started. Dumbledore just asked "wat the hell r u doin u motherfukkers?"
My soul is dying. I can FUCKING FEEL IT WITHERING!
Also I like Harry Potter: pointing out: Slytherin's dorm is in the dungeons. Dumbledore's office is on the fifth floor. (And fuck off if you say HP is bullshit, you uncultured cunts. It's sodding BRILLIANT.)
BLOOOOOOOD.
Slamming my fukking brain against computre right now.
Haryy Poter is now caledd Vampier. Evretnihg is becomnig disjnoited.
Mary Sue FOR THE WIN! GOD MODE SUE! GOD MODE SUE WILL SEE US TOWARD THE LIGHT!
Adverbs will kill me. Oh please, bitch. You get all pudrsih about acutally saynig penis and pussy after you pull out dis ovver shyt? Guy doing dramtaic reading is breaknig down wif laguhetr. Hermione's real name is Hermione's real name is Hermione's real name is *SLAP* Hermione Smith, and she's really a Stanasit vamprie.
God let this be wirtetn by a porfsseional troll.
"Vlodemort gave me a gun". Vlodemort has telekinesis, and spaeks wif thees and thous and I'm glitching bang bang rather watch babies eat eachother nytng but this crycrycrycrycry.
She actually has to tell us what the fukk shes thinking on the plot. Draco is silting his rits. And also had a gay filng wif Harry and everyone es a vampire. ENOUGH ASIDES WITH THE PLOT TO THE DISBELIEVING AUDIENCE BITCH. "See is ths chptr is shrupid!" YES PLEASE COMMIT SUICIDE SO THIS DAMN SOTRY STOPS. Loopin and Snap are apparently masticating to her taking a bath. "Abra Kadabra" shouts Loopin. Hargrid is magical. She shoots everyone. Hargrid is a Stanasit. 50 Cent did a gothic song? Slightly confusing is a fucking udnrestaemnet.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH taking a break for a few minutes. Looking back at what I wrote, I'm seeing a lot of red lines. This thing has lowered my brain-power. Suddenly, I think that this might not have been the best idea. Sorry for the spelling errors, but I won't delete them because, hey, it's a visual reminder of the destructive power of this "story". Its like reading something written by one of my ex-girlfriends, who's name is Jillian Smith and she lives somewhere in Illinois and this is her twitter page. See? I am a merciful God-- I give you a face to direct your hate at.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Jeff Bridges Is Still Cool
Just went to go see Crazy Heart. It was a good movie, so this one won't be a very funny review. However, I would just like to say this right off the bat-- if I ever look that shitty when I hit 57, somebody just fuckin' shoot me, OK? I'm counting on you, people. Anyway, Jeff Bridges is an alcoholic country singer (truth in film), and NO, you malignant bastards, I don't mean the crappy pop-country. I mean the real shit, the blues and gospel-inspired country, the type that's like what would happen if Slayer was a bunch of cowboys.
Long story short, he meets the reporter of his dreams, the all-too-worldly and oh-so-hot-40-year-old who's name I can't goddamn remember because they said it once and she's not even that hot because she's played by Maggie Gyllenhaal (please don't hate me Maggie I love you), and spends half her screen time splayed out on Jeff Bridges' ("Otis" Bad Blake) massive old-man gut and she has a four-year-old that looks like he carries every disease known to man and the middle plays out like a more-positive Heavy Rain and oh my God this sentence is going on forever and I've forgotten where I'm going with this, but the point is that Maggie Gyllenhaal's character is the weakest point of the movie for me.
(Everything's becoming a little disjointed right now-- maybe I'm watching too much Zero Punctuation. No I will not add a hyperlink; Yahtzee can go fuck himself. Your asses are my audience.)
It's a good movie, with a great soundtrack, no butt-monkey characters that make you wanna kill yourself for hating them and being unable to do anything about it (them being works of fiction and all), and a great soundtrack (if you like real country, not that Tim McGraw shit).
Go see this movie or I swear to Cthulhu I will take vengeance upon you. I have stock on both Jeff and this movie on HSX.
Long story short, he meets the reporter of his dreams, the all-too-worldly and oh-so-hot-40-year-old who's name I can't goddamn remember because they said it once and she's not even that hot because she's played by Maggie Gyllenhaal (please don't hate me Maggie I love you), and spends half her screen time splayed out on Jeff Bridges' ("Otis" Bad Blake) massive old-man gut and she has a four-year-old that looks like he carries every disease known to man and the middle plays out like a more-positive Heavy Rain and oh my God this sentence is going on forever and I've forgotten where I'm going with this, but the point is that Maggie Gyllenhaal's character is the weakest point of the movie for me.
(Everything's becoming a little disjointed right now-- maybe I'm watching too much Zero Punctuation. No I will not add a hyperlink; Yahtzee can go fuck himself. Your asses are my audience.)
It's a good movie, with a great soundtrack, no butt-monkey characters that make you wanna kill yourself for hating them and being unable to do anything about it (them being works of fiction and all), and a great soundtrack (if you like real country, not that Tim McGraw shit).
Go see this movie or I swear to Cthulhu I will take vengeance upon you. I have stock on both Jeff and this movie on HSX.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Time to get CONTRAVERCIAL, people!
BIOSHOCK 2! That whooshing sound you just heard, reader, was the exultant cries of hundreds of 2K Marin fans at the mere subconscious mention of Bioshock 2. And there it is AGAIN! I will admit, Bioshock 2 got through even my cynical armor to my soft, nougaty core. Once again, the keyword is atmosphere. Or... is it?
Sadly, no. It's not.
In case you've been under a rock for the past several years, Bioshock 2 is a followup to the widely-acclaimed first game, from 2K Marin. In case you've had a life for the past 20 years, Bioshock was the "spiritual successor" (read: complete clone) of the Crystal Dragon Jesus that is System Shock 2, which is basically, the Matrix meets a God complex. Bioware is the same game, but now the really scary AI, SHODAN, is the really AWESOME magnificent bastard Andrew Ryan, and the Matrix part is a giant underwater city that was secretly built by a group of seditious artists. Hooray for original plots!
The sequel casts you as a Bid Daddy, who were in the first game, basically Pyramid Head from Silent Hill 2 in a steampunk deep-sea diving suit with a drill instead of a sword, who guard freaky little vampiric girls called Little Sisters, who drain the dead of blood, and do it all in a rather disturbingly perky, innocent way.
That was in the first game. Apparently, Big Daddies have suffered an immense drop in badassitude, because now every insane genetic aberration is banging down bulkheads to take a shot at you. Anyway, you, Delta (AKA Topside Johnny, deep-sea diver with Balls of Steel), must reconnect with your Little Sister, now all grown up and suffering from acute Alma-itis. (If you don't get it, play F.E.A.R., you uncultured toad) Mummy dearest is a psychologist gone wrong controlling the entire city like some kind of goddamn giant Manson family. And then there's Big Sister... Big Sister is always watching.
All that sounds incredibly atmospheric and scary, right? Wrong. The tension from the first game? Gone. The idea that the entire world has fallen apart and you've come just in time to be eaten by the wolves gnawing at the corpses? Gone. The wrist-tattoos? Gone. No horror, no messages scrawled on walls in probably-human blood beyond the repeated-so-often-it-got-annoying "We will be reborn in the Ocean".
It's still a great shooter, and the fact that you can dual-wield your giant .50-cal machine gun and still have a hand left over to use your psychic flamethrower (yes, it's actually a flamethrower) to cook gribblies like Will Smith stopping an alien invasion makes it all the better. The problem is, we have thousands of good, solid FPS's. I have at least 10 of them right in front of me. What made Bioshock great was the fact that it was scary. Atmosphere is gone, and what made Rapture Rapture went with it. Good, but not great. Now, would you kindly...
Sadly, no. It's not.
In case you've been under a rock for the past several years, Bioshock 2 is a followup to the widely-acclaimed first game, from 2K Marin. In case you've had a life for the past 20 years, Bioshock was the "spiritual successor" (read: complete clone) of the Crystal Dragon Jesus that is System Shock 2, which is basically, the Matrix meets a God complex. Bioware is the same game, but now the really scary AI, SHODAN, is the really AWESOME magnificent bastard Andrew Ryan, and the Matrix part is a giant underwater city that was secretly built by a group of seditious artists. Hooray for original plots!
The sequel casts you as a Bid Daddy, who were in the first game, basically Pyramid Head from Silent Hill 2 in a steampunk deep-sea diving suit with a drill instead of a sword, who guard freaky little vampiric girls called Little Sisters, who drain the dead of blood, and do it all in a rather disturbingly perky, innocent way.
That was in the first game. Apparently, Big Daddies have suffered an immense drop in badassitude, because now every insane genetic aberration is banging down bulkheads to take a shot at you. Anyway, you, Delta (AKA Topside Johnny, deep-sea diver with Balls of Steel), must reconnect with your Little Sister, now all grown up and suffering from acute Alma-itis. (If you don't get it, play F.E.A.R., you uncultured toad) Mummy dearest is a psychologist gone wrong controlling the entire city like some kind of goddamn giant Manson family. And then there's Big Sister... Big Sister is always watching.
All that sounds incredibly atmospheric and scary, right? Wrong. The tension from the first game? Gone. The idea that the entire world has fallen apart and you've come just in time to be eaten by the wolves gnawing at the corpses? Gone. The wrist-tattoos? Gone. No horror, no messages scrawled on walls in probably-human blood beyond the repeated-so-often-it-got-annoying "We will be reborn in the Ocean".
It's still a great shooter, and the fact that you can dual-wield your giant .50-cal machine gun and still have a hand left over to use your psychic flamethrower (yes, it's actually a flamethrower) to cook gribblies like Will Smith stopping an alien invasion makes it all the better. The problem is, we have thousands of good, solid FPS's. I have at least 10 of them right in front of me. What made Bioshock great was the fact that it was scary. Atmosphere is gone, and what made Rapture Rapture went with it. Good, but not great. Now, would you kindly...
Welcome!
Alrighty, so I'll be blunt. This is my first real blog. I don't expect this to get many followers. But what the hell, right?
I guess I should start off by reviewing something, since that's what this blog will (ideally) be about. Looking over my collection of 360 games (and I own both a PS3 and 360, so back off, Microsoft/Sony fanboys), I see very little that sucks... Oh, wait--. Damn. WET.
Well, alright. Let's rip it a new hole.
Now, WET has been out for a long time. Maybe the fact that it was ten bucks at Gamestop should have been a red flag. Or the fact that I've heard the phrases "intensely unlikeable" and "unfinished hackjob" and "what the hell, didn't these people make Oblivion and Fallout 3" thrown about. Or that my friend cringed visibly when I mentioned it. But I pressed on, blindly faithful that Bethesda could climb lovingly over the corpses of the Vault-Boy and Maiik the Liar to bring us the full, Tarantino/Rodriguez-fueled bloodfest grindhouse game.
Semi-whoops.
As I stuck the game in, I was immediately confronted by the fact that I didn't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about the story. Well, this being a grindhouse game, I thought that was a given. But noooo. Bethesda, trying to distance themselves as much as possible from their former games, perhaps, one assumes, due to a spontaneous development of an allergy to success and acclaim, has created a really... bad, I guess, but that doesn't quite do it justice, story. "Intensely unlikable" really can't begin to describe the main character, Rubi Malone, voiced by I don't give a shit who because she sounds like an Americanized Claudia Black (Sorry Claudia, please don't kill me). Basically, if you've seen a 70's action movie, you've seen this, just this lacks the awesome.
Gameplay-wise, I found another dead rat in my shoe. It seems a platformer, drunk and depressed, shacked up with Max Payne, got preggo, and gave birth to an FAS-baby combining the worst parts of those two things. The father didn't wait around, either, because this game lacks any of it's father's GOOD. Shooting is overly-easy, and it feels so insultingly easy I honestly thought that I was going to get a free ice cream cone to make up for the lack of gameplay. Or at least a gratuity shot of Rubi. But once again, Bethesda slapped me in the face, sternly said no, and whipped me back into licking its stilletos. And now I've lost my train of thought.
If I had to summarize this game in one sentence, it's this: 'stylized' can only carry you so far; at some point, gamers are going to demand actual gameplay, dicky demanding bastards that they all are. WET: piss off, skip it.
I guess I should start off by reviewing something, since that's what this blog will (ideally) be about. Looking over my collection of 360 games (and I own both a PS3 and 360, so back off, Microsoft/Sony fanboys), I see very little that sucks... Oh, wait--. Damn. WET.
Well, alright. Let's rip it a new hole.
Now, WET has been out for a long time. Maybe the fact that it was ten bucks at Gamestop should have been a red flag. Or the fact that I've heard the phrases "intensely unlikeable" and "unfinished hackjob" and "what the hell, didn't these people make Oblivion and Fallout 3" thrown about. Or that my friend cringed visibly when I mentioned it. But I pressed on, blindly faithful that Bethesda could climb lovingly over the corpses of the Vault-Boy and Maiik the Liar to bring us the full, Tarantino/Rodriguez-fueled bloodfest grindhouse game.
Semi-whoops.
As I stuck the game in, I was immediately confronted by the fact that I didn't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about the story. Well, this being a grindhouse game, I thought that was a given. But noooo. Bethesda, trying to distance themselves as much as possible from their former games, perhaps, one assumes, due to a spontaneous development of an allergy to success and acclaim, has created a really... bad, I guess, but that doesn't quite do it justice, story. "Intensely unlikable" really can't begin to describe the main character, Rubi Malone, voiced by I don't give a shit who because she sounds like an Americanized Claudia Black (Sorry Claudia, please don't kill me). Basically, if you've seen a 70's action movie, you've seen this, just this lacks the awesome.
Gameplay-wise, I found another dead rat in my shoe. It seems a platformer, drunk and depressed, shacked up with Max Payne, got preggo, and gave birth to an FAS-baby combining the worst parts of those two things. The father didn't wait around, either, because this game lacks any of it's father's GOOD. Shooting is overly-easy, and it feels so insultingly easy I honestly thought that I was going to get a free ice cream cone to make up for the lack of gameplay. Or at least a gratuity shot of Rubi. But once again, Bethesda slapped me in the face, sternly said no, and whipped me back into licking its stilletos. And now I've lost my train of thought.
If I had to summarize this game in one sentence, it's this: 'stylized' can only carry you so far; at some point, gamers are going to demand actual gameplay, dicky demanding bastards that they all are. WET: piss off, skip it.
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