#Press Start!
Press Start: Life Lessons
A lifetime playing video games hasn’t just taught me that I’m a fat, slovenly dork who prefers his own company and staying indoors. Far from it: games have allowed me to come to all sort of bizarre, self-therapy conclusions. See for yourself.
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Pressssss Sssstarrt! – Dare to Scare
Somewhere out there, unbelievable as it may be: someone is surprised that Dead Space 3 wasn’t a resounding success. Whoever that may be clearly doesn’t see the issue with watering down a great horror game so much that it becomes a tepid co-op shooter with faux-RPG elements. In fact, if you think of all the meetings and work hours this game went through in order to get made, it’s startling to think that nobody suggested how fucking awful an idea the game was. In actuality, they probably did, but they then met with some sort of comedic ejection procedure (my money is on tossed from a first storey window by two burly security guards).
Thank Dead Space 3 for fucking up horror gaming for the rest of us: no doubt convincing investors that the genre is a lame duck. Next, thank Bethesda for being confident enough to get Shinji Mikami making a proper horror game. Dreams can come true.
Press Start: Dare to Care
Week in, week out, I find that I give fewer and fewer fucks about my greatest love: video games. Something about the world has changed recently: perhaps it’s a winding down as the console generation nears to a close, or maybe the industry has just plain run out of ideas. Whichever the case may be, I can’t help but wonder why anybody other than dedicated, pathetic losers like myself would be inclined to care. Abruptly, he slaps himself across the face with a force that ejects two fillings and a week’s worth of shitty debris that previously resided underneath his grubby fingernails. God-fucking-dammit, man! This is your one-true, your reason d’etre! C’mon, surely I can muster up a handful of halfway adequate reasons to deter any other would-be quitters. Here goes.
Press Start: Death of The Three-Headed Monkey
You know what sucks? Devices that aren’t perpetually connected to the Internet. And do you know who sucks? That’s right, the kind of pricks that don’t have flawless connections and maybe even live in rural areas. I mean, seriously, where the fuck do those guys get off? This, ladies and gentlemen, is the future of video game customer relations, courtesy of Microsoft. Prepare your anus, and start saving for that PS4, because Microsoft are so unbelievably cool that they don’t even want your business. Yeah, #dealwithit.
Press Start: No News For April Fools
It’s after this holiest of holy weekends that I like to give thanks to the lord baby Jesus for giving us the gift of video games, for introducing the concept of extra lives and, most importantly, dying for our sins so that we are all able to wallow in our own filth whilst we gaze into the screen for an entire weekend, shoveling poultry and confectionery down our unrelenting gullets.
Thank you, Jesus.
Press Start: Suda Horny, Michael
The world of video games is an industry powered by the inane grins of fuckwitts flailing to Just Dance and the sweaty wank-palms of teens prestiging for the nineteenth time on Black Ops II. Occasionally though, this fecal assembly line spews out the odd gem, inspires the odd moment of creativity and even showcases some of the most inventive minds working today. I guess, on the whole, it isn’t quite so bad. Perhaps I should put my cynicism aside. “What’s that? Assassin’s Creed with pirates? You mean the only decent mechanic in the entire of Ass Creed III was simply to test the market for the next title?” Excuse me whilst I wretch over the starboard bow. No wonder I’m so cynical. Before I hurt someone, here’s a round-up of the less-shit things that happened in gaming this week.
Press Start: Dads N’ Damsels
This week in gaming, millions of male gamers still found a way to wax their poles to the new, gritty Tomb Raider; Sim City went into complete shit-ridden meltdown and I continued to play a tonne of Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. The only thing that comforts me after typing that ridiculous name is the unrelenting entertainment value of tearing out cyborg spines. Third playthrough down and I’m still digging the most violent method of electrolyte extraction known to man.
Press Start: Severed Heads and Savoir Faire
Big Al down the pub told me that he’s seen the PS4. He said it’s sort of shiny, round and floats towards you ominously with its protruding spikes and blades. I told him that was one of the spheres from Phantasm. To be fair: I should have known better, Al is renowned for being full of shit – he once even told me that dogs can’t look up.
Press Start: Exclusive Blanka Colourway
Sometimes, leaving the intro until last is to my benefit. Well, yours too really, as I’m now able to provide you with ample warning. I think I’ve talked about butts quite frequently, and roughly 50% of the whole piece is just completely made up. So, in advance, sorry about all that.
Press Start: Of Monkeys and THE MAN
This week’s pressing questions in gaming are:
Why don’t more women play games? Probably doing something productive whilst I jerk it to polygons.
Why did they delay GTA V and does this somehow relate to rumoured plans for Rockstar to form a Bioshock-esque rogue state?
Just how powerful is the new Playstation going to be and is it going to include the Fleshlight extension that I’ve been petitioning for some months now?
