I’ve totally sucked at updating Omega Level the last few days, and for that I apologize. I’ve been busy with tutoring, school, too many sporting events, and my writing gig over at Mishka Bloglin. I’ve been out of the loop for the most part too. It’s fucking daunting, turning your back on the infostream. All of a sudden you’ve been gone for two days, and there’s roughly four-zillion things to catch up on. Here, have a bulletin.

1. The Final Fantasy XIII trailer from the Tokyo Game Show is fucking gorgeous.
2. Going into Pandorum, I knew the movie was going to suck. Then it preceded to be the worst movie I’ve seen in ages.
3. Speaking of sucking cocks covered in open sores, the first episode of Dollhouse S2 continues the show’s tradition of being absolutely unbearable.
4. In the span of a month, there’s five games (two on one day) that I want to play/cover for Omega Level. Brutal Legend, Uncharted 2, Borderlands, Ratchet & Clank, and Modern Warfare 2. I fucking hate this time of year for gaming. It’s amazing/awful.
5. Pepsibones is my brother, and he does a fair share of posts far better than mine. For those wondering who was penning the Friday Night Brew Review it’s him. His liver and sanity are taking a hit for you fucks. Get drunk with him and read reviews such as these.
6. You owe it to yourself to watch Community on NBC. It’s on Thursday nights, after The Office.

What have you been up to?

If there’s one thing you know I love, it’s Fallout 3. Which is why I’m excited for Denzel Washington’s movie The Book of Eli. Why is that? Well, it stars a dude wandering a post-apocalyptic wasteland with some mysterious item promising a resurrection or some shit. Yeah, it’s Fallout. It also has ridiculous ass-whupping action. And Commissioner Gordon.

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Jesus sweet Christ, I turn my back on MMA news for like one day and I miss Rampage Jackson retiring? Over a fucking role in the A-Team movie? Dana White was understandably pissed when Rampage had to delay his fight when Rashad Evans over some shitty movie. So Dana talked some shit. And Rampage? Oh yeah, he quit.

Via Cagewriter:

…so I’m done fighting. I’ve been getting negative reviews from the dumb ass fans that don’t pay my bills or put my kids though college. So I’m hanging it up. I’m gonna miss all my loyal fans but hopefully they’ll follow me to my new career & I will gain more loyal fans along the way. & all you hater fans out there can kiss my big black hairy [expletive]! & anybody that don’t like what I just said can come try to kick my [expletive]!

What the shit? Rampage isn’t my favorite fighter – that would go to Black Neo, aka Anderson Silva. But he’s the funniest dude going in the octagon, and every time they get a microphone near him you’re about to witness comedic gold. Not to mention I’d be sweating his fight with Rashad Evans for the past seventy-nine months. Now the dude is hanging it up so he can act? Whatever Rampage is sniffing, the goods are potent, and I probably want some.

This blows.

Hopefully this is just a tough-dude throwing a sissy-fit. Because I’ve seen your future, and I don’t think you’re going to make it rich playing the titular role in The Scorpion King IV: Black Scorpion Voodoo. Please baby, come back.

The way everyone is going nuts about Kanye West you’d think he was caught molesting children.

Oh wait.

We don’t lash into child molesters, now do we? Well, I mean we do. But not ones that didn’t make a significant contribution to the pop industry, molest countless boys and bribe their parents, and perform surgery after surgery on themselves until they look like an unrecognizable monster from my dreams.

I’ve found the past week to be generally disappointing for a humanity I don’t have much faith in already. The pervasiveness of Kanyegate is staggering. It’s everywhere. Twitter updates. Facebook status updates. On the news. On the radio.

Who the fuck cares. Why the fuck cares! Who the fuck cares?

I find it particularly saddening that a dude crashes the stage of a shitty pop infomercial and it brings hell down upon him. Of course he acted like a goddamn schmuck. Is that really debatable? He apologizes a day later and it ain’t good enough. No way. No how.

Why?

Because you’re being told you’re supposed to be outraged. It’s a convenient little bit of fast-food pop-news to keep the fat docile populace from really thinking about anything worth fucking mentioning.

Then there’s Michael Jackson. A man commits a laundry list of sex crimes against little boys and he’s lauded as Pop Jesus. The way people cried and cried and oh-my-gosh-I-can’t-believe-he-died sentiment that was vomited across the walls of media was disgusting.

What the fuck is going on here? How is it that a guy who crashed the gate of a Shit Castle becomes a public enemy, while another pop-star can get away from having children fondle his nipples.

It’s insanity in motion.

People’s memories have become so tailored by the exertion of the media it’s absurd. Newscast after newscast told everyone, you’re supposed to be sad, Michael died! Oh my gosh Michael died! No, not Michael! The world’s only lost a child-molesting pill-popper! How are we ever going to cope? Who is going to cure AIDS? Who is going to solve cancer? Who is going to create the ultimate renewable energy?

More importantly, who is going to be a sexual threat to our children?

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I bought Scribblenauts for my girlfriend yesterday. It’s a pretty dope puzzle game, and I knew she’d like it. I watched her play it for a bit, and it seems fun enough. But then I came to a pretty big disagreement with the game over the concept of vulgarity and what constitutes it.

Caffeine: Do you think you can use a dildo in the game? Or is that vulguar?

Note how I even have to ask this.

Far Too Patient Girlfriend: I’m pretty sure that’s vulgar.

Insert some serious silence while I ponder.

Caffeine: Really? Like…really?

I again doze off into rumination.

Far Too Patient Girlfriend: It’s a dildo.

Caffeine: Yeah, exactly! I mean, it’s a device that brings pleasure. How is that vulgar?

Sorry Scribblenauts, we’re going to have to agree to disagree. Apparently you’re like everyone else in this boring Puritanical country. I mean, I should have known we’d part ways. I’m the same guy that finds it completely acceptable to discuss bowel movements and masturbation at the dinner table with my eighty-seven year-old Nana. I mean, c’mon! It’s just a beautiful scientific discovery we’ve fashioned to give women and me pleasure. It’s not vulgar, it’s beautiful.

Pepsibones and myself have been pretty high on Kid Cudi for a while now. I was pretty excited about his album Man on the Moon: The End of the Day. And then I heard it, and it lit my expectations on fire and kicked them down the stairs. In a good way.

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FELLOW Metal Heads, fucking stop! Put down Megadeth’s Endgame, and go spend the money on something productive. I see you in the aisle, with it in your hand. I’ve been there. But you don’t owe Dave Mustaine anything. I’ve enjoyed almost all of Megadeth’s albums for varying reasons. I even enjoyed their last effort, United Abominations. It had some decent songs, and the lyrics were so bad they were entertaining.

Endgame makes a good point that I hope you all pay attention to: heavier isn’t always better. Even though Endgame is heavier than probably everything since Countdown, it’s my least favorite album since The World Needs a Hero. All the riffs sound like Dave Mustaine was trying to write Rust in Piece again. The results are thrashy riffs that aren’t really memorable, and half of them sound like a rehash or tweaking of Tornado of Souls of some shit.

Amorphous, boring riffs.

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Harrison Ford is talking Indiana Jones 5?

Via /Film

According to Tout Le Cine, Ford told the assembled press at Deauville that he, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg have agreed on the maguffin for the fifth film. Well, my translation software doesn’t say the ‘fifth maguffin’ but the ‘fifth element’ – I hope he wasn’t just talking about the Luc Besson movie.

What the fuck. Guys. Come on. The Indiana Jones awesome to suck ratio is so friggin’ high. Don’t start diluting that. Did you ever think that there would be as mad awful Star Wars movies as there were stellar ones? Kingdom of the Crystal People With Adamantium Skulls featured Even Stevens swinging on vines with monkeys. Please. I beg you. No

It’s amazing how many people are appauled by Kanye West. Yo, I’m appauled at everyone for watching that fucking infomercial. The MTV Music Awards are like free advertising for all the shitty corporate rock on MTV. Now listen, I’m not saying he’s not a douchebag. And I’m not saying I don’t like shitty corporate music. He is, and I do. But seriously, what the fuck is the problem here?

It’s like he stormed a fucking Slap Chop commercial. Taylor Swift, some bubbly product in neat packaging will survive. She can wipe her tears with all the hundreds of thousands of dollars she has, while she gets double-penetrated by her boyfriend and her music award. Mmmm…Double Penetration.

Calm the fuck down. Who the fuck cares. I can’t believe that this is on CNN, and that like everyone’s status updates on Facebook/Twitter/MySpace/Your Mom’s boobs are ranting about this. It’s not like he’s fucking Joe Wilson interrupting a speech, or a dude crashing on stage during the Miley Cyrus concert and finger-fucking her to climax. This was a dumb corporate piece of shit advertisement.

IT’S THE FUCKING MTV MUSIC AWARDS.

I’m more offended by Kanye’s haircut. What the fuck was going on! He’s got the fucking forest maze of Kokiri from Ocarina of Time carved into his god damn skull.

I don’t think that anything makes me feel more old than my perpetually widening disconnect from pop culture. I’m like eight months away from doing the jitterbug and talking about how I remember when The Great Gatsby was released.

Evidently the VMAS were last night. I wouldn’t have known any better if it weren’t for the fact that Kanye West went and acted the fool again. Who could have suspected that? People were all OMFG, that’s so disrespectful to Taylor Swift. And I was like, “What’s a Taylor Swift?” Another Disney machination? A new American Idol abortion? Apparently she emerged from somewhere, another Happy Meal for public gorging.

But people were blown away by this corporate-package on corporate-package hate, and I wasn’t even aware who one of the parties were. I’m floating further and further into the real of the Out of Touch. It’s a frightening feeling, since all you do during your teenage years is say to yourself, I’M NOT GOING TO BE MY FATHER.

Yesterday I was walking around the mall, gazing at the storefronts. You know the shitty mannequins schilling the specific store’s slop. Pimping the wares.

Walking past Hot Topic, I was shocked. It wasn’t the shitty t-shirts and caps that blew off my skull cap. It was the fact that these pieces of crap belonged to the Insane Clown Posse.

The fucking Juggalos still live? I had no god damn idea. I thought that all the Faygo-pounding toolsheds had been put out to pasture. Just what the fuck was going on?! Had I slipped into some alternate dimension? All my friends who used to wear JNCO jeans and sport Jugga-faces have long since disavowed their face-paintery.

What the fuck! What the fuck am I missing?

I am destined to be another nerdy dad. I can see my kid now:

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