It’s fucking okay to get pumped up. To smile. If the Brothers Omega and P. Coop are to be known for anything, it’s hopefully our bridled hammer-fist enthusiasm for existence. One of the things I try to carry through by example! is a genuine excitement on the website.

Sure we piss and shit and sometimes smear the old fecal blast across the nose of someone who has annoyed us. Here’s looking at you, Zack Snyder! Yet, by and large, I’d say we’re the smiling goofball fuck-faces of the internet. Three working dudes who whittle away some time on the internets desirous of spinning the yarns de bullshit with people who share likeminded interests.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Daryl Millar wasn’t one to brag. In fact, he held a special disdain for those who gloat about their triumphs. Part of this contempt stemmed from the fact that most braggarts haven’t done nearly as much as they claim. Gum-flapping as a means of self-denial. The rejection of a lackluster life. The other primary set of boasters are those who speak truthfully but only do so as to posture themselves above others. At the end of the day, Daryl believed that most who bragged were either liars or assholes.

Or, maybe even lying assholes.

So it was with some reservation that the protagonist considered phoning his friends. But he just had to tell them about his evening. “I can’t keep this to myself,” he thought, “it was just too unreal. Almost…otherworldly.” Daryl had turned a corner, and was on his street. As he approached his house, he picked up the pace of both his steps and his thoughts.

Thinking on it now, Daryl felt changed, as though shedding the skin of a virgin had not only opened his eyes but granted a third one as well. While he had been trained to connote first sexual experiences with the end of innocence, this was not his current perception. Instead, he felt an overwhelming sense of possibility, as though a door had opened and was urging him to take the final step across the threshold.

Something within had been activated and Daryl was sure that it was pushing him towards redefinition.

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If you’re reading this, chances are that New Jersey’s Craig Elmore has a better He-Man collection than you. I first met Elmore about 10 years ago at community college in a speech class. It was a requirement, we weren’t retarded or anything like that. The first “speech” I remember Elmore giving was on how super saiyan levels from Dragonball Z work. About halfway through his speech, Elmore paused and apologized. He said he had just smoked a bowl before class and was having trouble delivering his speech. I knew then that this kid had stones.

What I didn’t know about until a little later was Elmore’s possessed a massive MOTU collection. Like, really big. I thought I was cool with Hordak and Trap-Jaw on my desk, but Elmore puts my collecting heart to shame. 10 years burning plastic torsos down the road and Elmore is still He-Man hoarding strong.

Why collect He-Man? Why not Ninja Turtles or GI Joe?
The main figures I collect are He-Man, Thundercats, and Silverhawks. I have some Turtles, Transformers, and other toys, but growin’ up He-Man, Tcats, and Silverhawks were my fave.

Do you call them “He-Man figures” or “Masters of the Universe figures?”
Definitely He-Man figures.

Are most of your vintage figures the ones you owned when you were a kid? Or did you go back and re-buy them?
I’d say a 1/4 of em were mine from when I was a kid. When I was in high school and started looking on internet I saw some sites people made for 80s cartoons. It made me go in the attic and pull out what I had. Then with eBay and some toy shows it just got bigger and bigger and I started asking my friends if they had any.

Above: Elmore

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

December 10^th, 1964

Mother,
It’s been nine years since I wrote you last. I’m sure it comes as no surprise, but I’ve spent a good many number of these in anger. Towards you, that is, as well as your refusal to support my marriage. I understood why you might have been put off with my decision to wed Lukas, but I guess I had hoped you would put aside your disapproval for my sake.

After all, what’s a family if not a collection of people who tolerate disappointment for the sake of solidarity?

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No blogging today. The brain barks at my behavior, asking for a moment to cool down. Overheated, it begs for me to relent. I typically scream nay!, and flood the bloodstream yet again with caffeine. Shotgunning Diet Mountain Dews and ripping off psalms to those who aren’t there and certainly aren’t listening.

I shut it down for a day, having ceded the majority of my stem-power to classroom observation, driving to a failing program through the local public library, and eating a calzone. I’m not saying I don’t regret it, but I certainly didn’t miss mashing keys for a lovely twelve hours.

See you all tomorrow, you’re all unapologetically beautiful.

Sammy Hagar isn’t just the genius behind Van Hagar and Mas Tequila. No sir. He’s also the man who has been abducted by aliens multiple times, having his ass downloaded or uploaded or…something. He’s not really sure. But it’s led to some rockin’ jams.

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Sorry about the delay, folks. Meditate to this and embrace your inner Luddite.

What’s up, fuckers! Dial up your compete level to ten and let’s get ready to fucking rock! Slap that pink polo on, scream at the stars, and as your hazy vision returns, let’s dance. This is Press Start! The column where we spank and jack and spit and vomit up five things in gaming that caught our eyes this week. I’ll show you mine, you show me yours.

Excelsior.

—–

#1: BioWare Developer Caught Reviewing Their Own Game.
This is a story stuffed to the brimming gullet with win. A BioWare developer was caught reviewing their own game, Dragon Age 2, on Metacritic. Already that’s pretty ballsy, since you know  he had to know he would get busted. Nothing is sacred anymore, no one can hide. The sleuths of the internet illuminate anything. So Chris Hoban, posting as Avanost, reviewed his own game. But it gets better. Homeboy went out of his way to give Dragon Age 2 a 10/10, and said anything “negative you’ll see about this game is an overreaction of personal preference.”

Well done, Hoban.

Electronic Arts, not to be confused with a publisher with humility or regret, backed up their boy. A rep told Kotaku that of course “the people who make the game vote for their own game.  That’s how it works in the Oscars, that’s how it works in the Grammy’s and why I’m betting that Barack Obama voted for himself in the last election.”

Of course.

Doi!

—-

#2: Judge Lets Activision Sue the Fuck Out Of Electronic Arts.
The NFL and the NFLPA aren’t the only two Rich As Hell Greedy Douche Titans slugging it out currently. For those of us of the nerd proclivities, we can watch as Electronic Arts and Activision deliver bodyslams, jackknife powerbombs, and stunning reversals to one another in the courtroom.

You see, back last year Activision canned Jason West and Vince Zampella. These two duders were the sultans of the Modern Warfare franchise, having founded Infinity Ward. In other words, they governed the flagship iteration of the biggest fucking franchise in measured existence. The reasons why they were fired is dependent on who you ask. But this much is certain, since their firing, Activision has sued Electronic Arts, West, and Zampella in some bananas $400 million interference suit. I can barely speak English, can hardly write in anything, and definitely cannot comprehend legalese, so the finer details are lost on me.

I can tell you that this week, a “California Superior Court judge has given the go ahead to an Activision lawsuit brought against EA over the publisher’s hiring of Infinity Ward founders Jason West and Vince Zampella.” Activision thinks that EA totally snagged their girlfriend in West and Zampella, and the lot of them intentionally botched MW2 DLC and some other ridiculous shit.

It’s entertaining to see these two monolithic entities pulling one another’s hair and shit.

Also In The Gaming Courtroom: Sony gets access to GeoHot’s PayPal account.

—-

#3: Super Mario Bros. Goes First Person.
First Person Mario is an animation dreamed up by Brandon Laatsch. The gorgeous early Spring breeze you may have felt on the Northeastern seaboard this afternoon was actually the thunderous thousands of geeks smacking their goo bits to the concept. It’s pretty fucking awesome. Laatsch has Mario running around the classic board, while achievements hit up the interface like a mix between Call of Duty and Bulletstorm.

Someone use their Gaming Geek Wizardy powers to make this come to life. I know you have it in you.

Also In Mario’s World: Mario goes indie flick at SXSW.

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[WEEKEND OPEN BAR: The one-stop ramble-about-anything weekend post at OL. Comment on the topic at hand. Tell us how drunk you are. Describe a comic you bought. This is your chance to bring the party.]

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to a few fellow graduate students waiting for a class to begin. They were all talking about what their final thesis was going to be on, when I decided to spurt nerd juice all over the crowd. “I want to work with comic books for mine”, I said. I wasn’t stunting, it’s my geeky aspiration.  An unimpressive woman with no chin turned and smiled at me. “Oh, you mean graphic novels.” The smile lingered. In my mind, fantasies of spin-kicks and flawless victories danced about. Her chin shattered into a thousand pixels of hate, her smile evaporated and an announcer bellowed “KO!”

I returned the smile and informed her no, I very much meant comic books. No need to dress it up in the high-brow artsy-fartsy name.

When she assailed the cred of my favorite medium, the first thing I wanted to do was pull out the typical parry. Watchmen. It’s at the tip of every fanboy’s tongue when the medium of comic books comes under assault. If it isn’t the first thing, it’s surely the second. Watchmen, Watchmen, Watchmen. Considered one of the greatest novels of all time. Deconstructs the superhero. Blah, blah, blah. Commentary on the conflict of ideologies in the Cold War. Blah blah. Watchmen, Watchmen, Watchmen.

But I didn’t say anything, I was tired of using that usual comic book as a defense. It was then that I realized: we need to come up with new stalwarts. New examples. We need to put Watchmen down.

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Because it’s Friday and I can do whatever I want. And because Ray Winstone is the shit.