Campaign promises… now where’s that duct tape?

Posted: September 18, 2011 in Comedy, Humor, Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , , , , ,

That’s right, 29 posts, and 56 days later, I cracked the 1000 hit mark sometime this morning!  That’s not too shabby for a guy who’s typed over half of his posts left-handed (read: one-handed), and hasn’t a single publication to his name.  The majority of these are from close friends of mine, I’m sure, but I’ve seen signs of others– curious others wondering exactly what the Hell this quasi-gimp is raving about.  If I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, I encourage all kinds of freaking responses– whether it’s questions, commentary, or just snide remarks.  Special thanks to those who’ve swung with me from day one, through snot-nosed whining, and beyond justified wrath to where I am today—  still recovering from wrist surgery.  Thanks for making this, at very least, entertaining for me to keep doing.

I promise that I, as a jadedly cynical blogger, will never again use following the terms (aside from naming them here) ever again:  blogger, blogosphere, blogspace, bipartisan, netizen, trending, or hater.  Of course, the word “or” is an understood exception required for proper use of the English language (something I know several people have difficulty with), but I had to clarify the list due to several known wiseasses who read these shenanigans.  I also promise that I will continue the upkeep of this monumental waste of time as long as my fingers keep working.  There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, do what you want with it.

Anyway, with that said, on to today’s entertainment.  It’s no secret that I’m not just a “zombie enthusiast.”  I’m psychotically enthusiastic about the inevitability of a zombie apocalypse, and now that Zombie Jill is no longer a possibility– I’ve gotta get me back to being my friends’ go-to guy for Z Day.  Considering that I am still dealing with rehab, this means one thing, and that’s gaming (now that I can freaking aim).  I don’t play CoD (because I am not a regular gamer), and Duke Nukem would easily tear through a horde of rot popsicles on one of his textbook roid rages.  I’m too cheap to pay for broadband internet (I piggyback off my Droid like a good technocheapskate), let alone Xbox Live.   I’m talking about something new:  Dead Island.


Eleven on one? Please. I don't even need a gun for this.

Unlike with Duke (where I had been waiting 12 freaking years for the game to come out), I did not run out and buy this game new.  I hit up my good buddies at Redbox.  I wasn’t even going to get the game, but thanks to a friend of mine ditching me for reasons ambiguous, I got the game to myself all night.  Not many things make me jump, but this game is genuinely creepy.  I have no idea whether that’s due to the sunny resort setting, the gore factor set to eleven, or the fact that you don’t get a freaking usable gun until late in the first act.  It’s not like any game I’ve really played before.  No joke, where Left 4 Dead (among other titles), rely heavily upon creepy settings (and employing the classic “shoot the living shit out of a freaking horde” mentality), Dead Island is seriously different.  You gotta get personal, which means a whole different ball game.

This game is so heavily reliant on melee, it almost qualifies as a first-person fighter.  The developers were brilliant when they actually forced you to repair your weapons, as they take damage during use.  Not to mention, you can modify your stuff to be even more bad ass– from putting nails through a baseball bat, to making a burning plank, to electrifying a machete, and even more that I haven’t unlocked.  Yeah, how’s that for the ultimate dick move?  Sure, you’re allowed to diabolically DIY stuff that’d be clearly in violation of the Geneva Convention.   However, you’re not allowed to MacGyver anything without a set recipe– and you have to find and earn those.  Yes, they’re worth it, and yes, I totally geek the hell out every time I got a new one.  Don’t judge me.

Not to mention, another break from the genre–  there isn’t an endless sea of doddering carrion.  I mean, yeah there are zombies of various types just littering the stunningly gorgeous maps.  There are plenty of potential targets for which to get your violently bloody murder on.  That said, there are few true “horde” situations that I’ve encountered (Take into account that I’ve put some serious time in on it, and I’m not even 25% into the single player plot line)– and you’re forced to think like a survivor that doesn’t have a military arsenal at their disposal.  You have to be wily.  You have to loot, and loot, and loot, and launch a guerrilla campaign against the maggot marionettes that are trying to eat your face on a completely open world environment.  Can you say my style of game?

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire...

Light the barbecue!

All gameplay awesomeness aside, this game actually made me jump on more than one occasion.  Zombies can grapple you, and sometimes you’ll be looting your way around, minding your own business– and bam, you’ve got something rotting and drooling trying to teethrape your brain jelly.  Even I shat rocks the first, oh, dozen times one of the living impaired thought I’d make a good to-go snack.  Like I said before, I have no clue as to exactly why— but this game actually made me give a shit about not getting killed.  That’s pretty much a feat in and of itself.  Add into the factor that it can repeatedly make me jump like a six year old watching Nightmare on Elm Street, and this game has officially got my attention.  Sick, sick bastards, you game makers.  I want to hump your legs for this one, even if the gameplay employs a serious learning curve.

Yes, Redbox, we shall meet again soon– unless I find it in a bargain bin somewhere first.  In the meantime, I guess it’s going to be “Hail to the King, Baby.”  For some reason, I don’t consider that a bad thing.  I wonder why?  I’ve got balls of steel, that’s why.



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