Posts Tagged ‘video games’

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.

GET SOME!!

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.

Unplug.

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So last night, ended up hanging out with my cousin and a friend of ours.  Of course, with this particular crew, we end up talking music and video games…  which inevitably ended up at my cousin’s in front of his epic gamer setup.  I still had my 360 in the car (really can’t play it, explanation coming), so I made sure that I’d brought my copy of Duke Nukem Forever.  These guys have both played prior Duke games, but they lack the… enthusiasm that I have for it (but that’s a different story entirely).

Hail to the King, Baby!

"I've got balls of steel!" - Duke Nukem

This brings me to a major issue, the very heart of the reason that the 360 has stayed in my back seat.  I can run around, I can shoot, I can even switch weapons.  However, Jill’s dexterity is complete shit– and the cast further inhibits any prayer of analog-stick control.  I know, really kills my buzz even thinking about how Jill’s other stick control will have degraded too.  Anyway, after a quick run, they tossed in a fighting game.  Having learned from prior mistakes, I sat these rounds out.

Rounds, however, might be a bit generous of a description– because my cousin is some kind of sick genius at gaming.  If I’m playing a game somewhat regularly, yeah, I will wreck face with extreme prejudice.  This means I will do bad things to the AI, murder n00bs, and actually hold my own against most players.  Then you have my cousin, who appears to be just a walking amalgamation of all that is digital-interface rape.  So to say our friend went “rounds” with him is a bit of a misnomer.  My cousin toyed with him, and because he was screwing around, got beat a few times.  I’m glad I sat that one out, especially with the way my wrist was aching after getting my murder on.

Finally, we went and threw in a game we all know and love:  Star Wars Battlefront II.  Back in the day, my college buddies and I used to play hours on this game (and its predecessor).  Needless to say, they went co-op mode, and I advised them that I’d be the free-kill.  Of course, they’re freaking good at this game, so they didn’t care about another handicapped stormtrooper on their side.  I wasn’t entirely useless, thanks to my many hours of game play in the past.  We were all getting tired, so our last board was destined to be Mos Eisley.  It was time for every BF2 player’s guilty pleasure–  the hero assault.  My gaming skills just got relevant again.  I have a WMD in my back pocket.

Pay no attention to the tin can.

A force-dash powered murder missile.

I don’t have to worry about aiming Darth Maul anywhere– it’s more like steering.  He’s a ridiculously fast, linear weapon, with a wide radius of damage potential.  Essentially– point Darth Maul at something, book ass right into its face, and kill it to shit with a crimson storm of bitchslap.   Steering, oh yeah, I got this.  We three go co-op, again, mainly because you can’t make it a fair fight any other way.  That and we were also engaging in another guilty pleasure: the occasional comp-stomp, with the AI cranked to 11.  For those of you unaware of how much fun this is, I truly pity you.  I didn’t think I was doing as well as I was.  However, I guess I wasn’t spending all my time running around in circles looking for days to ruin.

I outscored my cousin.  I guess while I was running around in circles, I was also picking up kills like the Grim Reaper on coke.

Unplug.