The company that made the 1984 advertisement back in the day is doubling down on creepy future-tech. That’s right, Apple has bought the folks who made Microsoft’s original Kinect. And now there ain’t nothing holding back the Steve Jobs-nanobody robopocalypse.
I am by no means an Xbone hater. As I’ve said across the various poorly-edited posts on this site, I’ve made my amends with Microsoft. Their recalcitrance giving away to penitence more than mollified my anger. So them doing well on launch day? I ain’t got no beef.
Yeahhh! Pig alert! I can’t help it (Yes I can, I’m just a piece of shit.) I want to swerve my swizzle stick all around Master Chief’s blue-bummed aid’s ass. Or something. What am I even talking about? So tired. Oh yeah! Being attracted to polygons. Cortana. Yum yum. Microsoft must know that I’m not alone, because they’re calling their Siri equivalent “Cortana.”
When I was thirty-three, I was madly in love with a man named Herbert. Built like a brick shit house, and worked in a pizzeria. Herbert and I were madly in love. That’s until the day I caught him giving the old pepperoni push to one of his co-workers in the back of our 1992 Sable station wagon. I was aghast. Me holding my pepperoni, this random stranger’s rectal cavity holding my Herbert’s. I felt betrayed. Still we persisted. For a bit. Herbert and I broke up that New Year’s Eve when I found him fingering some young stud near the punch bowl, carelessly pouring spiked Kool Aid all over his balls. I didn’t stay to watch him lap it up.
This is froggy fresh. One of the interesting things about this Fall is that titles are dropping across multiple generations. What if I buy Call of Duty: It’s A Doggy Dog Life on my 360, but then I snag an XBONE for Christmas? What will happen to all those wonderful maps I snagged? Microsoft? They’re actually doing me a fucking solid.
I have to hand it to the Xbox One. It is fucking awesome at moonwalking. Just backpedalling like a motherfucker. All smooth and shit, feet gliding over the floor.
Faux Bot is back with his second installment of Blanka Boyz. This one focuses its mentally ill gaze upon the raging degenerate that is Microsoft’s XBONE. As with the first, it is laden with smash cuts, old school references, and thick slathers of insanity.
Microsoft is dropping their policy of charging game developers for patches, and other updates. Pretty neat. The cost apparently was significant, and if I recall correctly drove away indie studios from patching their games and the such. Was it Fez that gave up being patched? I think? Anyways — neat.
Did you think that Halo 4 was the beginning of a trilogy? You fucking dullard. Trilogies are so 2000s. Now we are into the realm of the amorphous saga. Whatever the fuck that means. How do I interpret it? I take it to make a license to expand ceaselessly into the future, without having to justify story arcs and all that superfluous silliness.
The Monday and Tuesday of the annual E3 week are always a fascinating pair of days to watch unfold from a PR perspective. The show floor opens its doors to attendees on Tuesday afternoon, but by then, an entire story has been told to the media through a series of conferences, briefings and events that kick off the week.
E3 seems unlike any other industry trade show on the planet. It’s equivalents in other industries, from television, to film, to fashion, to food, all seem tame by comparison. At least, from the perspective of public relations.