The Ending To Black Ops Is Amazing Dick Rock Stupidity

I finally beat Call of Duty: Black Ops last night. Took a fucking week! Goddamn, I need my elite gaming status revoked. You say I haven’t had in a while? I say your Momma’s tits sag but I’ll suck em anyways! Oh lord! Father forgive me for my brash delivery. I enjoyed the fuck out of the game.

I dug the single player, the story, the presentation, everything. They hooked me in with the gimmicky as fuck numbers bullshit. I mean, yeah dude, I saw LOST. I loved the numbers back then too. Interrogation, floating numbers! Flashing, hypnotic surreal cut scenes? It was all so predictable, but it worked. Listen, Call of Duty isn’t looking to reinvent the wheel. I always think of these games (well, MW, MW2, and this) as six-hour Jack Bauer-esque experiences.   If you’re looking for depth, go jump into an Olympic swimming pool! And drown! Ha, the Pepsi Max, it speaks to me in riddles involving penises, and vaginas, and talking grizzly bears.


But yeah. Fight Club twist? Generic, predictable, still okay. A riff on the typical brainwashing the US agent to do someone else’s bidding? Generic, predictable, but still okay. It was executed well enough to keep me satisfied. I mean, I love Fight Club. I love Ed Brubaker’s Winter Soldier storyline in Captain America. I’m break dancing gleefully to all of these tropes already. Why not keep spinning to the beat you already enjoy?

The best fucking part though? The ending. It was such stupid, dick rock insanity. Imagine, true believers. You have just climaxed, the game is ending. You surface after outracing a sinking and exploding ship. The dawn is rising – do you get it, a new dawn! and you drop some fucking awesome line.

“Oh hey, I saved the day!”

That’s when amazing begins to happen.

Your counterpart, you bro in ninja top secret black ops action drops a line.

“For now.”

This is already amazing. But then some fucking chuggy power chords drop. Some real metal shit. After this line is dropped, fucking jets cruise overheard. Action movie line? Check. Metal chords letting you know this shit is legit? Check. Pure American Muscle cruising overhead? Check.

It was so fucking rote and amazing and awesome and predictable for the demographic this game was aimed at. I suffered unto some sort of fugue state. I enjoyed it both for what it was and also in some sort of meta-hahahaha-this-is-hilarious manner. I knew I was loving some sort of stupid shit, because of the mouthbreather in me, and I also enjoyed it because it was so ridiculous.

If there was any confusion as to the prime demographic for this title, the ending just about eradicates any sort of confused clouds of doubt. And I fucking love it. If you’re still confused, just hop on Xbox Live and play a few rounds. The first time some thirteen year-old calls you a “Faggot lame ass fag”, you’ll understand. Perfectly.

I love this series.